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hairstevington · 11 months

Note

if you’re still taking steddie requests could i request something based on the song the marriage of bigfoot and mothman by the forgetmenauts? (super fucking steddie coded if u haven’t heard it btw) (also if u dont want to no worries!)

IT IS FINALLY FINISHED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This request is from March and I've been writing it off and on since then. Thank you for being patient and I hope you like this absolute chaos of a fic. I wrote it on my most unhinged of days. Enjoy!

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The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman | (Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington)

Summary: Eddie and Steve are reunited four years after the final battle with Vecna. They're still madly in love, but Eddie is a little different now. Steve doesn't care, and they both decide to run away together. Meanwhile, Deputy Carver is on their tail...

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Kas!Eddie (kind of not really), pretty much all characters make an appearance, this story is bonkers, no smut whatsoever, sticks to canon except Eddie and Steve were in love, some angst but with a happily ever after, mentions of homophobia/ACAB, everyone highkey gaslights Jason, based on the song from the ask (go listen to it first for context!)

(Ao3 link here )

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1990: Hawkins, Indiana

“We’ve got a situation.”

Deputy Jason Carver sat in his brand new police car. His freshly promoted status had him feeling high and mighty, and he was ready to crack down on the crime of his small, boring town.

Well, it was usually boring, but today? Today he had a surefire way to utilize his new power.

“What’s up?” his partner asked. Andy had joined the force pretty much just to be his friend’s partner. It started off as a joke and then became real. Deputy Carver took his work very seriously, while Andy…less so.

To be honest, it kind of pissed Carver off. All the buddy-comedies they’d watched together? Turned out, not realistic.

"I'll give it to you straight," said the Deputy, gritting his teeth. “I was minding my business, driving through town, and I saw that Freak, Eddie Munson.”

“No way,” Andy responded, sitting up straight. He was fully invested now. “I haven’t seen that guy since -”

“Exactly,” Carver responded.

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Unmistakable,” Carver confirmed. “I noticed a car going too goddamn fast, so I followed them, flashed my lights, and told them to pull over. The asshole didn’t. I lost him on the interstate doing 105.”

“Wait, he didn’t pull over?” Andy asked, shocked. “Isn’t that illegal?”

Jason stared at his friend blankly.

“That’s -” he sputtered, at a loss for words. “Oh my god. Yes, it’s illegal.”

“Well, we gotta catch him then!” Andy suggested, pumping his fist. “Let’s go, man!”

Carver at least appreciated the enthusiasm. He turned the key in the ignition and off they were. To where? He wasn’t sure yet, but he was determined nonetheless. He was the fucking Deputy! He could do this. He could do anything.

Plus, Eddie was one of the least inconspicuous people on the planet. He was in a giant van, for one. But also -

“There’s one more thing,” the Deputy said as he drove them. He laughed to himself quietly in disbelief. “When he passed me on the right -” He reenacted this dramatically, speaking as if it were a performance. “I saw it wasn’t just Munson. He was driving around with Steve Harrington of all people.”

“Pshhh,” Andy said, shaking his head. “Now you’re lying.”

“Swear to God,” Carver promised. “And the strangest thing of all-”

“Stranger than King Steve riding around town with the Freak?”

“That’s the thing,” Carver responded. “They weren’t just riding around town, they were singing.”

“No way,” Andy said, confused. “Singing what?”

Carver cleared his throat, then echoed the words he’d heard not long ago -

“You'll never take us alive, it's our wedding night

We made our vows in the meadow in the dead of night

I will be his forest, he will be my light.”

Andy stared at the man beside him, who’s eyes were now fixed on the road.

“Dude,” Andy said. “How the hell did you remember all that?”

The Deputy shrugged, shook his head, then spit out the driver’s side window.

“Shit was catchy.”

“WOOOOOOOOOO WE’RE FUCKING CRAZYYYYYY!” Steve yelled out the passenger side window of Eddie’s van. Eddie cackled in response, turning the music they were blasting down enough to have a conversation.

“We’re not crazy, we’re in loooove,” he assured Steve, a gentle smile on his face. He hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure for us it’s both,” Steve responded, equally joyous.

Steve wasn’t wrong. The two of them had reunited only a few weeks ago, after four years apart. Now, they were gathering all of their friends so they could run away together and have a pretend wedding ceremony on a farm (because gay marriage wasn’t legal but there were no laws against living with a really close friend of the same gender forever and always).

Oh, and Eddie had come back from the dead after the bats got him in the Upside Down, and now he had wings and glowing eyes.

So…that was also unorthodox. Let’s dive into some context.

1981: Hawkins, Indiana

It was the first day of Steve’s freshman year and Eddie’s sophomore year. Steve was fourteen, and Eddie was fifteen.

Steve had what parents and faculty called “potential.” His grades were decent (save for English and History), and he was on track to be on several sports teams. He was friendly with pretty much everybody in the way some kids are, but he didn’t have a solid friend group or even someone he could call a best friend.

Eddie, on the other hand, was a nobody. He was just a kid who blended in among the others, and he liked it that way. His uncle, God bless him, called Eddie “eccentric,” but Eddie knew that was just a different way to say “weird.” He excelled in English and History, because he did a lot of reading in his spare time (and he had a lot of spare time, considering he didn’t talk to anyone). He was pretty horrible in math and science, though. And generally, he hated being in school, so he skipped a lot to hide at this picnic table he’d found in the woods.

Because he was a shitty student, he had to take Algebra a second time.

Guess who was in his class?

Eddie and Steve would talk to each other every so often in class, but mainly focused on schoolwork. However, they also shared a free period, and since it was Steve’s first time at Hawkins High, he found solace in the familiar face. They worked together sometimes, and eventually had an agreement - Steve helped Eddie with his math homework, Eddie helped Steve with English.

And then…well, they were kids with confusing feelings about having a friend versus having a crush. But all of it came to a screeching halt, because then Steve met Tommy, and he got a little mean.

Eddie kind of knew Steve was headed for greatness in the Hawkins High student body, but he didn’t realize he’d jump to the top and leave Eddie in the dust.

The last time Eddie and Steve saw each other had cemented their fate. They were joking with each other as usual, and then -

“You’re…afraid of the dark?” Steve accused, laughing.

“Well, it’s not - I mean, I wouldn’t say -”

“You’re afraid of the dark.”

“I’m NOT-”

“Don’t worry, tons of people are the same way. Most of them are waaaaay younger, but-”

“Shut your goddamn mouth or I’ll shut it for you.”

“How are you gonna do that? You gonna kiss me, Munson?”

The following silence was all Steve needed to hear. It confirmed what Steve suspected Eddie was feeling, as well as the way the feelings were reciprocated.

Truthfully, Steve just panicked and reacted poorly. He had to decide - either stick with Eddie, confront something he wasn’t ready to confront, and become a social outcast, or join Tommy’s group of assholes, repress all those feelings, and eventually hook up with a bunch of women and be referred to as a King. Obviously, he chose the latter.

Eddie, for the record, ran from it all, too. He decided to embrace his anger and pain and give people something to hate him for. He was fine with being invisible, until Steve made him feel seen - after that, he was desperate for people to notice him, and he did it in the only way he knew how. Plus, Eddie figured that him being the school freak really pissed Steve off, so that was something. But Eddie found friends between music and Hellfire Club and drugs, and he felt pretty alright.

They didn’t talk to each other for five years.

1986: Hawkins, Indiana

Ah, yes. The typical way all estranged friends reunite - Person A throwing Person B against the wall of a boathouse and threatening him with a broken bottle to the neck, after Person A disappeared due to being suspected in the brutal murder of a fellow classmate.

A meet-cute of sorts.

Eddie admittedly hadn’t even noticed who it was he was threatening due to being in a blind panic. He felt himself getting feral, but after the shit he’d seen, no one could blame him.

Dustin’s voice calmed him down enough to recognize the man he'd pinned.

“You,” Eddie said softly.

“Hi, yeah, it’s me,” Steve replied nervously. Eddie let up and backed away.

The next few days were terrible and stressful and filled with horrors Eddie never could have imagined he’d face. But any time he had a moment with Steve, it was like none of that mattered.

The world was ending, and people were dying. Eddie would have been lying to himself if he said he hadn’t thought about Steve all the goddamn time, and now who knew how much time they had left?

Steve clearly felt it too, because when the group realized they’d have to hide Eddie somewhere he wouldn’t be found, Steve insisted he stay with him. Nobody questioned it, each going off their different adventures, connected by a walkie talkie.

So, Eddie and Steve spent hours alone together, and they got to talking pretty fast. Confessions and apologies spilled out of them before either of them realized it was happening. By the time the others returned, the two of them had already processed and forgiven each other for what had happened when they were kids, AND admitted they had non-friendly feelings.

“Holy mother of chest-hair, Batman!” Eddie exclaimed after Steve took off his shirt.

“Not really the reaction I wanted, but okay,” Steve muttered. Eddie laughed, then took a step closer.

“Sorry, I just - I’ve seen you shirtless before in the locker room and stuff, and you didn’t have aaaaall of this.” Eddie ran his hands against Steve’s chest, prompting Steve to jolt backwards and laugh.

“Stop, man, that tickles!” he exclaimed. “And yeah, I stayed pretty hairless back when I was a swimmer.”

“Are you telling me that you were waxed back then?”

“I - well, it was -” Steve sputtered, flustered. “I think we’re going off course, here.” Eddie smirked, then put his hand around the back of Steve’s neck. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Steve’s skull, gripping tightly into a fist. He tugged on it a little to prove a point.

“I like it, you know.” Steve blushed.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed, bringing his lips impossibly close to Steve’s. “It’s like you’re Steve ‘The Hairier’ Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes and pushed Eddie away.

“Get away from me, Munson,” Steve teased. “You ruined it.” Eddie just laughed, undeterred.

“I don’t think I did,” he replied. “In fact, I’m willing to bet that all you’ve ever wanted in your Pretty-Boy life is for someone to accept you for everything you are - excessive hair and all.”

Steve tried to play along and act like he was irritated by all this, but he clearly wasn’t. Especially since Eddie was dead-on.

“I’m not that hairy,” he insisted. “You’re acting like I’m Bigfoot or something.” Eddie’s face lit up, and Steve immediately backtracked. “No, no. You’re not about to make that a thing.”

“Steve,” Eddie began. “You know how much I love urban legends. You can’t just dangle the most amazing comparison in front of me and expect me not to make it a thing.” Steve groaned.

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Why the hell do I still want you so bad?”

“Oh, probably something to do with the deal I made with Satan,” Eddie responded.

Steve couldn’t restrain himself anymore. His attempt at looking annoyed was wearing off, his glare softening, a smirk emerging across his lips.

“I don't get how you manage to piss me off and turn me on at the same time.” he said.

“It’s a gift.”

“Right,” Steve sighed. He gave into his urges and charged forward, kissing Eddie passionately.

He’d never felt this way about anyone before.

They spent five days together that week, but it felt like a lot longer than that. They’d become something like boyfriends in that time - although, they were fighting monsters and plotting how to destroy some big evil dude instead of going on dates. Still, they were something.

After Steve jumped into that lake, and Eddie, Nancy, and Robin saved him from the bats, Eddie tended to Steve’s wounds. They were side by side as long as they possibly could be.

Deciding to split up for the final battle was excruciating, but they both knew it was for the best. Steve had to be with Robin, and Eddie had to be with Dustin, and they all had specific roles to play.

It hadn’t been long enough to call it love, even though they both felt it. If they’d had more time, their final words to each other could have been something special. Something powerful. Something that conveyed what they meant to each other.

But they didn’t have that time, so they settled on -

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Make him pay.”

Steve held up his end of the bargain, but it wasn’t enough. By the time he’d gone back to where they’d left Eddie and Dustin, only one of them was left standing.

Steve did what any nineteen year old would do in that situation. He repressed it, fully and completely. Barely acknowledged or talked about it. The alternative was too painful to accept.

And then, he started aimlessly searching for something else to focus on. He spent a lot of time driving around. Dustin had a girlfriend in Utah, so that gave Steve a good excuse to skip town every so often. He’d drive around the country, bit by bit, never quite finding what he was looking for.

1990:

Four years came and went. The kids graduated high school and were getting ready for college. Robin was about to get her degree. Steve had been spending a lot of time at her university, but he didn’t quite fit there either.

Hawkins became boring again, and Steve decided once everyone was grown-up and scattered that he would never go back.

He drove all the way to California.

One of the gas stations had a newspaper that caught his eye - Mothman sightings. Something blurry in the sky that no one could ever follow or get a decent picture of. Steve’s heart sank as his mind betrayed him, shattering the strict rule he’d lived by for years.

Eddie would’ve loved this.

Damn. That was a buzzkill.

“You hear about the Mothman thing?” the guy at the register asked. Steve looked up, less than enthused to have this conversation. He shook his head. “Wild stuff. People are seeing him everywhere. Around this area, actually. Business has never been this good.” The man laughed, and Steve realized he must be the owner or something.

Steve had been wondering why there were so many people in town he’d never heard of before, when the beach was hours away.

Steve mumbled some sort of response and took off, cursing his inability to find a private place nearby. He drove around the town, but all the spots he deemed worthy of a breakdown were occupied.

He parked next to the woods, then wandered in and walked as far as his legs carried him. He spotted a dark cave and headed inside, a dire need to be invisible.

Then, he screamed and punched the cave wall, hurting his hand so badly he screamed again.

“Dammit!” he yelled, crashing to the floor.

It was pitch black in there. Almost as if he were in another world, or perhaps in no world at all. It was kind of peaceful, in that way.

“You good?”

Steve jumped up faster than he’d ever moved before upon hearing a second voice.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled. “Who - I - sorry, I thought I was alone in here.”

“Yeah, clearly,” they replied.

The voice was so similar to Eddie’s that Steve couldn’t bear it.

“Sorry, you were here first so I’ll go,” Steve said, turning toward the lightened exit.

“You could stay.”

Steve shook his head, knowing the other person in there couldn’t possibly see it.

“No, I - Look, I know this won’t mean anything to you, but I’m having a shit day - well, a shit life, honestly, and you sound a lot like someone I’m trying not to think about so -”

“Steve,” the voice said, sending a chill down his spine. “It’s me.”

“Shit,” Steve muttered. “Great. Now I’m hearing things. This conversation probably isn’t even happening, right?”

“How the hell did you even find me? No one else can,” the voice continued.

“Would you shut up?” Steve asked, irritated. “You’re not - I’m going insane. I gotta get out of here.” He took a step forward, but was pulled back by the wrist.

“Wait,” the voice beckoned. “You don’t get it. You found me. Were you looking for me?”

“Dude, what is this?” Steve replied, tugging his hand free. “Some messed up game of hide and seek? I was just looking for somewhere to be alone, and I found this place by accident, and I’m not even alone here, so I’m going.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” the voice said. “It’s me, okay? It’s Eddie. I didn’t die when I was in the Upside Down - or, well, I did, but then I came back or something, and now I’m here, and you found me on accident. Like, that’s got to mean something, right?”

Steve’s head was spinning.

“What?!” he exclaimed. “I - no, that’s impossible. Why wouldn’t you have - I mean, it’s been years, and he would have - we would have known. No, this is bullshit.”

“Iiiit’s not,” the voice responded. Steve scoffed.

“Let me see you, then.”

There was a long, tense silence.

“I look different.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Come on, I gotta see you or I’ll go insane.” The alleged “Eddie” sighed.

“Fine, but before we go out there, let me give you a little sneak peek.”

Suddenly, Steve was face to face with two glowing red eyes.

“Jesus!” he yelled, jumping back. “What? I - what?!”

“Yeah, I know, how do you think I feel?” the voice responded. “Glowing eyes and big wings, now. I wish I was kidding.”

Steve had seen his fair share of shit at this point. He’d seen all kinds of monsters. He’d been in alternate dimensions. There was a world in which this person (person?) was telling the truth.

Which would mean Steve had Eddie back.

Hope flickered in his chest for the first time. Screw the wings. Screw the eyes. He walked toward the light and waited for footsteps behind him, but heard none. He stopped and spun around.

“Come on,” he said. “Follow me. Please. I don’t care what you look like.”

“You say that now -”

“Yeah, and I mean it,” Steve insisted. “If you’re really - if it’s really you, then I don’t give a shit about the eyes or wings or horns or whatever the hell else you got going on, because I’ve - God, I’ve missed you more than anything, so just step out of this goddamn cave or I’ll carry you out there myself.”

Steve wasn’t usually one to find random dark caves and spill his guts to disembodied voices that claimed to be his ex, but there’s a first time for everything. He realized as he was speaking that he’d already decided to believe what he was hearing was true - which meant that if he was wrong, he’d be crushed.

But that didn’t matter. He’d been crushed before.

“I actually don’t have horns,” the voice said.

“What?” Steve asked, baffled as to why that was relevant. “Yes, you do. I saw the pictures in the paper -”

“I bought fake ones at a Halloween store,” the voice explained. “Which - now that I’m saying it out loud, makes no sense, but I’ve been by myself for like five years now and I kind of have this thing for being dramatic -”

“Jesus Christ it really is you,” Steve mumbled.

“That’s what convinced you?” Eddie asked, chuckling.

“Well, yeah,” Steve replied. “Nobody else would do that.”

“Fair enough.”

“Wait, have you been keeping your eyes closed this whole time so that I wouldn’t freak out?”

“Maybe.”

Steve smiled in the darkness, amazed at how naturally their banter came back.

“That’s dumb,” he said. Suddenly, the red eyes were back. Upon second inspection, they weren’t really that crazy. Then, Steve felt a hand grasp his, and that was it - the final confirmation he needed. He knew from one moment of physical contact that this was real.

He had Eddie back.

Together, the two of them walked out of the darkness.

Steve stared at Eddie for quite some time, analyzing his new look.

“Could you please for the love of god say something,” Eddie begged. “I can fly and see in the dark, but I can't read minds.”

He still had a humanoid figure. His face was the same as it had always been, save for the eyes (which, by the way, looked a lot less intense in the light). The wings were new, but they were only visible when Eddie wanted them to be.

“Okay,” Steve said with a nod. “I’m thinking I can work with this.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Steve insisted. “Bigfoot and Mothman. It’s kind of perfect, right?”

“Bigfoot and Mothman,” Eddie repeated, grinning. “Jesus H. Christ, I love you.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“Shit,” he said, immediately terrified. “I mean - I didn’t mean to say that. If we could just pretend like that didn’t happen, that would be great.” Steve smirked. He’d spent a lot of his life pretending, and he had no interest in repeating those mistakes.

“So, you don’t love me?” he teased, taking a step forward.

“My answer depends on whether or not you love me,” Eddie replied. Steve took his hand again and squeezed.

“I do,” he admitted. “Always have. Your move, Munson.”

Eddie kissed him instead of answering, but there was no doubt in either mind that what they were about to embark on was something major - for both of them.

“This is -” Eddie began after they separated. “This is crazy, right? Like, the world already feels weird about two dudes running away together, let alone one dude and one half-dude half fucking moth.”

“I could go crazier,” Steve said.

“What do you mean?”

Steve took a deep breath. The world had never been that kind to him, but it had given him this, and he wasn’t about to waste a single moment. He’d been running so long, and Eddie had been hiding, and neither of them should have had to live like that anymore.

“I mean, I - I’ve always wanted to ride around like I have been, but I never wanted to do it alone,” Steve explained. Eddie’s face shifted into recognition.

“Six little nuggets in a Winnebago, right?”

“You remembered,” Steve replied with a smile.

“Of course I do.”

Fuck it. Eddie was his soulmate. It didn’t matter that there were a lot of factors against them - if they were in it together, everything would be okay.

“The nuggets are all over the country,” Steve said, referring to the kids who weren’t even kids anymore.

“Well then,” Eddie responded, smiling. “If you think they’ll be as cool about this as you are, I say let’s go grab ‘em.”

They spent the next few weeks traveling the country and rallying up their friends. They’d had the same conversation over and over again - Eddie’s alive? He looks like that? You guys are gay? You’re running away to a farm together???

Whatever. It was crazy and it was amazing.

Dustin was so relieved that Eddie was alive, he didn’t care about the gay thing or the fact he could fly. Eddie and Steve asked Dustin to be their best man, and he burst into tears of joy.

Lucas called out how insane the whole thing was, but accepted it nonetheless.

El was confused, but supportive.

Max literally couldn’t give less of a shit about any of it, but was glad they were happy.

Mike short-circuited at first, but idolized Eddie so much he accepted the situation pretty quick.

Will was unfazed and over the moon for them.

Robin was ultimately just upset that Dustin was going to be best man and not her. Naturally, they donned her Maid of Honor, and then she was good to go.

Jonathan was chill about it. Eddie being a demon weirded him out a little, though.

Nancy was the one with the most reservations, but mainly she was concerned for their safety. Eddie and Steve assured her that they would be in the middle of nowhere, and that Eddie’s freaky appearance would keep them safe just fine. Since everyone else was on board, Nancy shrugged and said of course she would be there.

Wayne, like Dustin, was mainly just blown away by Eddie being alive. The rest of it was irrelevant to him.

Joyce was baffled by the whole thing, but since her children were okay with it, she was too.

Hopper just kind of grunted in approval and said nothing else.

Now, everyone was meeting up at the predetermined location - a homestead that used to be owned by one of Steve’s relatives. It happened to be for sale, so they bought it.

Off they went to their new home.

Jason and Andy had spent all day tracking and following Eddie’s van. It was slow going at first, until a concerned citizen called the local police station to report a two men raiding a gift shop. Her story was nearly discounted at first because she’d mentioned one of the men had wings, but…

Well, honestly? Jason had caught a glimpse of those, too. But it had been so quick he convinced himself he was mistaken. He convinced himself the concerned citizen had been, too. Wings? On a dead man? Preposterous.

Anyway, they chased that lead and ended up locating the van at the gift shop, and - sure enough - Eddie and Steve were walking out.

Hand in fucking hand.

“Oh, sweet lord,” Jason muttered.

“Look at all the shit they stole!” Andy exclaimed, pointing at their loaded trunk.

“I don’t care about the shoplifting,” Jason snapped back angrily. “Look at them! They’re - they’re - they’re holding hands!”

“Dude, who cares if they’re gay,” Andy replied. “We’re supposed to look out for crimes.”

Jason stared at his friend, wanting to argue, then realized he couldn’t. He grumbled, then got out of the car to confront the pair.

“Don’t move!” he shouted, prompting Eddie and Steve to turn to them. Jason was giddy in anticipation of reciting the Miranda Rights - he’d always reveled in that part of the job.

“Jason?” Eddie asked, not at all intimidated. “You’re a pig, now? Thaaaaat seems about right.”

“Shut up,” Jason shot back. “You’re supposed to be dead, Freak.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve just been missing, actually,” Eddie clarified.

“Well, I found you,” Jason said, raising his gun. He thought for sure it would cause Eddie to back off, but he didn’t.

“Ooh, Big Boy Carver’s got a gun,” Eddie mocked.

“Eds, let’s maybe take a step back,” Steve said softly. At least one of them had a sense of respect for authority.

“Jace,” Andy said, tugging at the Deputy’s shirt sleeve.

“Dude, whatever it is I’m kind of busy,” Jason replied through gritted teeth, unwilling to look away from the boys.

“They’re stealing our car.”

That was worth breaking his gaze, for sure. When Jason turned - sure enough, their cop car was driving away without them. Some red-headed teen was behind the wheel, with a curly-haired guy beside her in the passenger's seat.

Jason turned back to see Eddie and Steve had jumped into the van and were attempting to drive away.

“Hey, what do you think you’re -”

Jason tried to shoot at the tires, but he couldn’t move. He was completely frozen, but not out of fear or hesitation - this was something out of his control completely.

He was forced to stand and watch the van speed away, his own police car not far behind them.

Shit.

“WE’RE THE FREEEEAAKS!” Eddie cheered as they sped away. Steve laughed, relieved that they’d had backup or else they never would have gotten away.

“Thanks, Jane,” Steve said, high fiving the girl in the back seat.

“You are welcome,” she replied with a smile, wiping a drop of blood from under her nose.

“Holy shit, that was AWESOME,” Dustin’s voice said through the walkie talkie.

“I’ve never stolen a cop car before,” Max added. “Huh.”

“Don’t make a habit out of it, alright?” Steve warned, ever protective of the kids.

“Yes, mom,” she replied.

They were all meeting at the homestead in groups - Eddie and Steve were originally transporting Robin, Max, Jane, and Dustin, but Max and Dustin ended up making a snap decision to save their asses. The adults - Joyce, Hopper, and Wayne - were meeting them in a separate car. Nancy, Jonathan, Mike, and Will were another group. Lucas was showing up by himself, as he was just coming back from London.

“Okay, well that was cool and all,” Robin interjected. “But you do realize that cop cars can be tracked a whole lot easier than this van, right?”

“Is that true?” Steve asked.

“I dunno, but she said it pretty confidently,” Eddie responded. “Sounds right.”

“So…we ditch the cop car and consolidate,” Max suggested. “Then meet at the farm as planned.”

“They’d still find us eventually,” Dustin argued.

“Not with me driving.”

“Chill out, Mad Max.”

“GUYS!” Steve interrupted. “They’re gaining on us.”

Everyone looked in the rear view mirror to see the cops on their trail. The Deputy led the pack with intense anger in his eyes, desperately attempting to catch up.

“I can keep them away,” Jane offered. “I will protect you.”

“El,” Dustin said. “Not that I didn’t love seeing you flip that van to save us last time, but we probably shouldn’t murder anyone today.”

“Her name is Jane,” Max reminded him.

“Shit, sorry.”

“No murder?” Eddie whined with a fake pout. “But it’s my wedding day!”

“Eddie, could you take this seriously, please?” Steve pleaded, starting to feel nervous.

“Relax, I’ve got a plan,” he responded, cool as a cucumber. “But everyone’s gonna have to play along.”

Well, this could only end well.

Jason and Andy followed the group all the way to the middle of nowhere. It was some barren farmland that hadn’t been cared for in ages. The only thing that seemed somewhat new was the “Sold” sign out front.

For the last hour or so, Eddie and Steve hadn’t tried a single thing to get away. They’d led the cops right to the farm, which was…suspicious.

The Deputy was more than prepared to shoot this time if he had to. Clearly, this was a trap, and he wasn’t falling for it.

“Be ready for anything,” Jason said as he parked the car and stepped out.

“Got it,” Andy replied, actually serious for once. They walked together slowly towards the main house, their hands on their holsters for good measure.

“Heeeelp!” a woman’s voice called from behind the house.

“We are just poor damsels in distress! Please someone save us!” Jason shifted his attention to the vulnerable ladies who needed his assistance and ran toward their cries. Once he got there, they stopped yelling, and he realized neither of them were in any danger.

Two women, one a little older than the other. Jason thought he recognized her from the school band, way back when, but he wasn’t sure. The other one…

“Wait, aren’t you the girl who stole my car?” he asked.

“Sure did,” the red-head admitted with a smirk. “Stole these, too.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out Jason’s favorite pair of sunglasses.

“Hey, give those back,” he said, outstretching his hand.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? Shoot me?” she teased. “I know a good lawyer.” Jason sneered as she put the glasses on herself, smug. Jason was about ready to scold her, but instead heard more voices, now at the front of the house.

“Hey, look!”

“Over here!”

“Forget the sunglasses,” Andy said. “Come on, let’s go.” Jason (begrudgingly) followed his partner around the house, only to find two teenage guys waiting for them, also not in danger. He recognized them, too.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Jason said. “I know you. You were in that club - Hellfire Club. With -”

Jason’s eyes widened. Holy shit. He was uncovering a whole conspiracy.

“That’s correct,” the curly-haired one replied. “I’m Dustin, this is Mike.”

“Hello!” Mike said with a goofy smile.

“You were right this whole time,” Dustin said calmly.

“We’ve sold our souls and live to serve our master,” Mike added.

“Eddie,” Dustin clarified.

“Wait, what?” Jason asked. “Okay, everyone here is insane. Andy, let’s call for backup.”

“Hey, Jason.”

Oh, great. A new voice. Jason turned around yet again to find -

“Lucas….Sinclair???”

Okay, wow. Lucas had been on the basketball team with Jason back in high school. He was one of Hawkins’ biggest success stories, because he went on to play pro and make it big.

“Nice to see you again,” Lucas said.

“It’s - what are you doing here?” Jason asked, his head spinning.

“Oh my god,” Andy muttered. “Dude, Lucas made a deal with the devil! That’s why he made it and you didn’t.”

“Andy, shh!” Jason didn’t like people to know that he’d worked very hard to be a professional athlete, because he didn’t want anyone to know he’d failed miserably.

“Yup,” Lucas confirmed. “You got me. The only reason I am where I am today and you aren’t is because of Satan.” Mike and Dustin stifled giggles behind him.

Jason couldn’t lie - having Satan to blame was kinda nice.

And then, Jason and Andy heard the front door of the house open, and looked to see a man walk out. Jason’s blood went cold.

“...Chief Hopper?” he asked, astounded. “But you - the mall fire…”

It had been front page news. Local Sheriff Jim Hopper died in the Starcourt fire. First Eddie, now him? What the hell was going on?

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Hopper said casually.

“Thanks,” Jason replied, dazed. “But you -”

“Yes, yes, I did,” Hopper continued, looking mournfully at the ground. “We’re all dead, here.”

A teenage boy walked out of the house next, one that Jason recognized immediately.

“Will Byers…” he muttered. Will had also been a top story - the kid that got lost in the woods, pronounced dead, and then came back like nothing had happened. “Wait, you’re saying that you - that you both died?”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re saying,” Will replied with a nod.

“But you aged!” Jason argued.

“Uh, yeah,” Will said with a shrug. “We can do that.”

That didn’t sound right, but Jason nodded anyway. None of this made sense. Was he dreaming?

“Nah nah nah,” Andy said, backing up. “I draw the line at ghost children. I’m out.”

“Andy…” Jason said with a sigh, but it was too late - his friend was already halfway to the car.

“Okay, so what you’re all saying is…” Jason began, attempting to recap what he’d been told. “You both are dead,” he said, pointing at Hopper and Will. He directed his attention to the girls and boys next. “And you all are part of a cult that worships…Eddie Munson.”

Everybody looked at him and shrugged.

“What about Steve?” Jason asked.

“Fresh blood,” Mike explained.

“Okay, so where is Eddie, then?”

“Right here.”

Jason looked up to see Eddie perched on the roof in all his glory - arms outstretched, wings on display, red eyes glowing.

“Jesus Christ!” Jason exclaimed. “Andy! Call -”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that,” Eddie warned. He flew (flew!!) off the roof and landed in front of Jason. “What are you gonna do? Tell people what you saw today? Nobody will believe you.” Eddie took another step forward, causing Jason to take a step back. “We’re all gonna stay here, and we won’t bother anyone, so you should probably just go ahead and forget any of this ever happened.”

“I won’t do that,” Jason insisted. “I can - I will -”

“Okay, so you need a little more convincing. No problem,” Eddie said. He outstretched his hand and narrowed his eyes in concentration.

And then, Jason started floating.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jason cried out as fought against the invisible force lifting him up. “Let me down! How are you -? Put me down!”

Eddie just shook his head and laughed.

“Promise to leave us alone,” he said.

“Fine! Dammit, I promise!” Jason yelled. “I won’t tell anyone! I’ll leave you alone! Just let me go!”

Jason fell back to the ground after that, and then he scrambled to his feet, ran to his car as fast as his legs would carry him, and drove back to Hawkins.

Him and Andy never told a soul what they’d seen.

“Do you, Steve Harrington, take me, Eddie Munson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Once the coast was clear, the team worked to create a makeshift venue for the upcoming nuptials. Nancy took over as the lead with Joyce, assigning tasks to everyone. Jonathan set up chairs, the kids took over decorations, and Robin and Dustin got their respective grooms ready for the event.

Now, everyone was seated on that homestead, watching their two friends have the weirdest wedding ceremony of all time.

“I do,” Steve said.

And they all lived happily ever after.

---------------------

Check out my masterlist of previous fics!

@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingnscatworld @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @dangdirtydemons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @clumsiluni @hollysimone @swimmingbirdrunningrock @witchofhawkins @steddiegarbage @suddenlyinlove @ricekristytreaty @eddielives1986 @bunnyweasley23 @thefailcollection @ppunkpuppyy @bestwifehaver @httpsphynx @skjachukson @deadfromtheneckdown

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #writing #steddie fic #stranger things fanfic #st fic

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thesingingrevolution · 11 months

Text

i was happy i have been waiting for this for so long but it feels like everything sucks. this might be the last current ot20 album ever and i wish things could be good for once. i haven’t seen any real positivity and even if there is one positive tweet or anything the replies are all negative, the qrts are negative, everyone hating on everyone and everything. and honestly even i am kind of pissed off because it’s so messy and the company won’t do (see: isn’t going to try/doesn’t gaf) anything to slightly make things better. schedules are a mess too like why are we releasing nctlabs rn. there’s been ages of musical drought so why is the music coming out now. the nctlab layout didn’t even last a week. before i could even listen to jh’s song i found out nct is coming back. also i was so excited when i heard about t7s unit cb because helloooo the founding fathers. but i was really hoping that it would be a promoted bside with a performance video not necessarily a tt or at least they would do 4 tts like in 2020 so everyone can be on a title track but i just read that there’s gonna be a full group tt which great i like that i just really hope it will be even a little fair 😃 and then the t7s unit cb. 😐 wtf is the point of nct u if we’re just gonna have the same people every single time. in the same unit as each other. in the same fixed unit as each other. why is this a thing. i hope that’s fake so badly because now i can’t even be that happy for t7s unit cb. is it too much to ask for to SEPARATE ty dy jh and mk FOR ONCE. 90s love was a start and universe had more diversity as well but it’s just getting frustrating and i understand non hateful solo stans more and more every day because it’s either your bias is hospitalized from being overworked and having 15 comebacks and 8 world tours in a row or he’s rotting in a dungeon 10 months of the year and no one has seen him publicly since 5:36pm on march 12th and it causes so much resentment and annoyance and frustration and i just wish someone with more than 3 braincells was employed at sm entertainment because then 87% of these problems would not exist

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minachuuu · 3 years

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When The Lights Go Out

❣When The Lights Go Out❣

❤ Pairing: Gahyeon x Fem!Reader

❤ Genre: Suggestive & Fluff

❤ Word Count: 5.1k

❤ Song Suggestions: Daybreak by DreamCatcher & Squeeze by Fifth Harmony

“Hey Y/n!” The door swung open, forcing you and Gahyeon to jerk apart your hovering lips. Yoohyeon, followed by the rest of the DreamCatcher girls entered the green room from the venue of the show both your group and your girlfriend’s were going to perform at. “Long time no see!”

It’s not like the rest of her group don’t know that you two are dating, you never tried keeping it a secret. And even if you wanted, it was almost impossible to keep something hidden from them.

DreamCatcher was one of the closest groups you have ever met, they dropped and picked up Gahyeon from all your dates even before you two were official. It was also important for her that you met all of them beforehand.

You remember that day pretty vividly. It was a little nerve racking, the thought of meeting all these powerful girls that were her older sisters, of course they’re watching over her. You do the same with the maknae of your group, so you understand where that came from. But luckily for you, they all loved you. Putting aside all the joking threats, or at least you hope they were jokes, of taking care of Gahyeon, you actually became pretty close with all of them.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. But you would be lying if you said that sometimes you wish they weren’t around all the time.

“Hey Yoohyeon!” You waved with your free hand as you wrapped the other around your girlfriend, she sheepishly cuddling into your shoulder. “Hi girls!”

“Did we interrupt something?” Handong chuckled as her gentle eyes laid over you both.

“No, not really,” You responded while shaking your head, bringing Gahyeon closer to you with your arm as she chuckled in your neck. “We were just talking-”

“Really? Wow, how boring.” SuA scoffed at us, sitting besides me as she took out her phone. “If I were you and I hadn’t seen my girlfriend in so long I would just ea-”

“Unnie!” Gahyeon reached and jokingly punched SuA away.

“What?! I’m just saying the truth!” She defended herself, trapping you in between of a bickering battle. “We’ve all been busy with comebacks and don’t pretend you weren’t all ‘Aw, I miss my Y/N!’ every single day for you two to be all ‘We’re only talking’ Gahyeon-ah! Especially when Y/n is dressed like that!”

Red rushed up to your cheeks as your eyes scanned your body from head to toe. Thanks to your comeback, you embarked on your usual ‘tour’ around music shows. With all the glamour, of course the extravagant outfits were included, and this time, you fancied a two piece costume that highlighted all your best, exalted all your movements and most importantly, could make everyone fall at your feet at any given time. All combining with your newest concept, a classy version of the already known girl crush concept. You had asked to be the first in the dressing room and the makeup chair, so you could be able to visit your girlfriend in her green room as soon as possible.

Gahyeon wasn’t complaining about it either, since your comeback overlapped with the promotions of her group’s comeback. They were already on their last week of promotions whereas this was your first one, giving you both an opportunity to spend a little time together, even if it just meant stealing kisses in between stages, curtains and dressing rooms.

“So...! You really missed me that much?” Your hand raised your girlfriend's chin to meet her eyes with yours.

“Of course I did, you pabo.” Gahyeon poked your nose with hers as you giggled together.

It’s not like you weren’t that lovey-dovey, but you preferred not going overboard with the public demonstrations of affection that much, it just didn’t feel comfortable enough. Especially with both of you being idols, you never knew what pair of eyes could be around.

But right now, you were only surrounded by her members and staff, who already knew you and your relationship pretty well, so maybe sneaking a kiss wasn’t so bad-

A knock on the door made you turn your head away from your girlfriend, especially when the voice coming from the opening entrance was the one from your group leader.

“Hello Dreamcatcher sunbaenim!” Her head peaked in, scanning around for you as she bowed to all the girls and staff in the room. Her eyes finally landed over you, a relieved gasp coming out of her mouth as she signed you to follow her. “It’s five minutes until they call us to stage Y/n!”

You sighed, nodding at your leader in response. Gahyeon patted your chest letting you know it was okay for her since, after all, this was work for both of you, and you couldn’t neglect it just for a relationship. You stole a quick peck from her lips and stood up from the couch.

“Will I see you later?” Gahyeon asked, playing lightly with your hair.

“I’ll try my best jagi.” You winked back at her.

Maybe it was the outfit with a combination of a makeup that perfectly highlighted everything she already loved about you, or maybe all this accumulated time without seeing each other, but Gahyeon couldn’t resist pulling your hand and you with it in for a more lively kiss.

Of course you didn’t reject the offer, softly brushing your lips against hers, before going for a more daring approach. She wrapped the edges of your top around your neck, pulling you closer. Recognizing the flavor of her favorite lip balm, you never got tired of tasting her lips over yours.

“Sooo… ” Your leader cleared her throat as she rested against the door frame, waiting for you to stop saying goodbye to your girlfriend. Her voice hesitated as she tried to make the moment a little bit less awkward for the spectators. “Congrats on the song unnies! It’s pretty good!”

“Thank you!” JiU chuckled back to her, following the thread of awkwardness. You started noticing the clumsy pace of the conversation, laughing against each others’ lips in the process. “Your album is pretty good too! Gahyeon invited us to listen to it and we really liked it.”

You heard your leader giggling and halting her words, and just then is when you felt the entire room turning their eyes over at you both. You placed a last peck on her lips and pulled away, unhurriedly releasing her hand in the process. Gahyeon sent a flying kiss your way and winked back at you, causing your cheeks to flare up.

“You guys know we love you both but you don’t have to rub it all on our faces.” Siyeon sneered, making you turn to her. Her happy eyes relieved you, knowing she was just messing with you as she often liked to “You know? Some of us feel a little lonely and you don’t help.”

“I’m so sorry Unnie,” You chuckled at her as you bowed in respect, moving towards the exit door. “Good luck today everyone!”

“Thank you!” All the girls waved back at you, in a chorus of happy and excited voices.

“And good luck to you too,” Your girlfriend planted a kiss on your cheek as she accompanied to the door. “Give your all Y/n, promise?”

“It’s not going to be hard with you on my mind.” You returned the kiss as you stood under the door frame. Getting lost in her perfect eyes once again, a calling force that didn’t let you say goodbye to her completely.

“Let’s go, I told the girls we would meet them behind the stage.” You leader pulled your hand, calling you back to reality.

“Oh, true.” You shook your head to ground you back, taking in a deep sigh. You allowed yourself one last word to your girlfriend as you started walking away from Dreamcatcher’s dressing room. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She was quick to respond as she waved to you.

You started walking backwards unable to take apart your eyes from her. It was your leader who rolled her eyes at both your puppy-eyed faces and turned you around by the waist, playfully slapping your shoulder to bring you back once again.

“You’re feeling lonely Siyeon-ah?” You heard SuA’s loud voice coming from the inside. “Let me fix that for you!”

“Unnie, what are you doing?” Siyeon responded in a fairly confused tone. “Unnie!?”

You chuckled at the last words you could hear coming from that dressing room before your girlfriend closed the door behind her. You had enough time to get to the stage by then, so it wasn’t necessary to run towards your destination.

“Should I remind you?” Your leader broke the silence as you walked together. “They haven’t even raised our dating ban, if someone-”

“...Someone catches us like that I could get into big trouble.” You finished your leader’s words as you sighed. “We’re both adults, we know what we’re doing.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you’re still in a rookie group.” She shoved her shoulder against yours, shaking her head. “Don’t forget that Y/n.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You giggled as you shoved her back.

You both arrived at the stage just when your group was being called in to pre-record your performance, all your group got into their positions as you greeted the team and the staff. Usually it takes about three to five takes of the same choreography, with different camera angles and closeups so that they can be stitched together and edited to get the final cut that will air later.

Your group breezed through the first three easily and quickly, but by the third pass, a new fire rose inside of you when with a glimpse you spotted Gahyeon on the stage wings, her eyes not leaving your moving silhouette as you graced the stage with your daring choreography.

By the fourth and fifth take, you noticed how cameras focused a bit longer on you. BUt what they didn’t know is that you only made it for the girl living inside your heart, and standing a few feet away from you.

What you couldn’t notice until you finally finished your pre-recordings, was that your girlfriend already fashioned her comeback attire and her killing makeup, the sight punching you straight in the stomach, leaving you breathless. All happened behind you as your group thanked the show’s staff for their hard work and started moving out of the stage. Not until one of your members jumped and surrounded you with her shoulders, happy with the smooth shoot.

You shook your head back to reality, walking alongside your members. And just as you were exiting the stage, it was DreamCatcher’s turn to record their performance. Remembering to hide your relationship from unknown eyes, Gahyeon brushed by your side just politely bowing to all your group, and her eyes maybe lingered an extra second over yours. Only then you were able to catch a closer glimpse of her outfit.

DreamCatcher always had this super badass concept attached to them, and their styling was no joke either. Rolling with this new biker concept, Gahyeon fashioned some shorts that kept her thighs uncovered, a leather jacket loose enough to drape off her shoulders and high black leather biker boots. Her hair was let down, styled to look as if the wind tapered just enough against it. Her members fashioned similar outfits, some with pants or vests, but it was your girlfriend who you couldn’t take your eyes away from.

“Hey guys,” You called your group as you kept your eyes firmly over Gahyeon. “Do you mind if I stay over here for a while? I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Your leader chuckled at your obviously flustered expression. “Just don’t get caught on camera drooling over Gahyeon.”

You instantly raised your hand to your mouth, cleaning over a fictitious drool that your leader made you thought was already hanging from your mouth. Your groupmates chuckled at that, as you furrowed your eyes towards them, as they headed back to their green room.

DreamCatcher’s comeback music started resonating over the entire venue, turning you around to pay attention. Making sure you were well within the shadows and out of the cameras’ reach, you leaned over a wall, making yourself comfortable to watch your girlfriend give it all on her performances.

You never got tired of watching her in her element, you could see the passion seeping through her in every movement she nailed and every verse that she sang. All combined only prompted you to fall more and more for her, wondering whatever you did to deserve such an amazing girlfriend in your life.

Lost in your trance, you never noticed how they only needed three takes to get everything perfectly, and they were already on the finishing pose of the last one. Maybe it was one of the advantages of being in a more experienced group.

“This has been DreamCatcher!” JiU and the girls acknowledged the staff’s hard work as they bowed, making you remind in embarrassment how you were all hypnotized to forget that. “Thank you so much for your hard work and caring for u-”

Abruptly, the lights of the entire venue shut completely off, leaving everyone in the dark. Mumbles of confusion were heard all around as people started using the lanterns on their cellphones to light up the rooms around.

You straightened up the wall, ready to run to your girl if necessary until your urgency was relieved when her group was instantly surrounded by all their managers and their cellphone lights. And really it was you who was going to need a little more help to find your way around, since your phone was with your managers, all the way back at your dressing room.

“Attention!” One of the high ranked staff called the entire stage area. “There has been a problem with our power plant! All artists must be moved to the dressing room area until we can get the backup power back on!”

People started moving around you, and you decided that it was better to stay exactly where you were, hoping somebody could help you. To your great luck, one of DreamCatchers managers who already knew you well enough, saw you and invited you into their lighted brigade.

You greeted the girls in the formal way that you were expected to when there were other people around, bowing down them as they politely greeted you as if you hadn’t been kissing one of their members an hour ago.

“Really good performance out there DreamCatcher sunbaenims!” You congratulated them, walking besides them to their green room.

The girls giggled at your comment, partly because they were not used to talking so formally with you by now, but they all thanked you genuinely anyways. A light brush against your hand made you slowly turn your head towards it’s direction, only to find your girlfriend staring to the front, but walking right beside you.

You understood her message perfectly, taking her hand in yours and intertwining your fingers. After all, the darkness wouldn’t let anybody see what was going on down there.

You entered their dressing room behind them, only to end up once again at the same couch you were with before being called by your leader.

“The heaters are off too, it shouldn’t be too cold but we can give you this in case you’d like to cover yourselves.” One of the show’s staff approached behind you, handing out blankets to everyone. “We’re so sorry for the inconveniences.”

“Thank you!” All the people inside the room chorused as they exited the room, heading to the next one with another batch of blankets.

Gahyeon grabbed one from the stack over the table, and draped it over both your bodies, using it as a perfect excuse to cuddle back into you.

“You were amazing out there.” You whispered to your girlfriend as the air started filling itself with other conversations to kill time. “I was really thinking ‘Wow, that’s my girlfriend!”

“Y/n! Stop, you’re making me blush!” She whined back to you. Her hands roamed under your laced shirt, resting over your core. The whole gesture caused a chill to bolt down your spine, as you surrounded her shoulders with your arms. “You’re not bad yourself Jagi!”

“You really liked it?”

“Of course I did!” She playfully slapped your arm, a little offended by your questioning. “And I’m so excited to see everything you guys can do, especially you.”

“Oh, can think of one thing that I would love to do…” You added, chuckling to yourself.

“Really? What is it?” Gahyeon excitedly jumped in her place, her bright eyes still shining in the obscure room, full of curiosity.

“Eh-” Caught off guard, you cleared your throat as you avoided her eyes. “I can’t tell you now-”

“Y/n-yah! That’s not fair!” She complained, puckering her lips. “You can’t go saying that and then just not tell me!”

“Yes I can.” You answered dryly.

“Please tell me?” She begged in the cutest voice she could, trying to get you to fall for her.

“No.”

“Then I’ll make you!” She returned with a confidence that flustered your brain.

“No, Gahyeon. What are you-” You halted when you saw Gahyeon’s smile grow up, as you felt her hands roaming to your exposed ribs from under the blanket. “Oh no, don’t you dare.”

But it was too late, she started tickling you mercilessly making you contort over your own body, trying to fight back the laughter that urged to come blasting out of your mouth. The blanket ended up falling on the floor from all the movement, as you fighted against your girlfriend’s playful hands.

Your stomach was starting to hurt from trying to contain the laughter and all the shifting out of your body, as she couldn’t stop cooing at you, taunting you to say exactly what she wanted to hear.

You somehow managed to stand up from the couch and away from your girlfriend’s hold. And it was your turn for vengeance. Gahyeon could see it coming from the wicked smile growing on your lips, and didn’t waste a second standing up and running away from you, out of your reach and quickly enough, out of the room you were sharing with her group.

Bolting behind her, you weren’t sure if you heard the voices of your members or DreamCatcher call both your names or you had just hallucinated them. But it was a worry that lasted just one second, enough for your eyes to catch the silhouette of your girlfriend running away from you across the dark halls of the venue.

Gahyeon’s cute taunting giggles helped you go behind her as this game of cops and robbers started for both of you. She ran in between the different dressing rooms and up and down the stairs, sometimes barely avoiding your hand as she turned out to be faster than you imagined.

She just knew that once your hands were on top of her, there’s no way you were taking them off. Which, right now, wasn’t such a bad idea for her.

She cut the corner and quickly entered an empty dressing room behind her, covering her mouth from the giggles and heavy breaths that tried to escape and give away her location. But it didn’t work out too well after all, because even in the dim light that the entire building was buried on, her platinum, purple-ish hair was bright enough, and you knew exactly where she was hiding.

Gahyeon’s breathing calmed down but she stopped hearing your steps. She waited for a few seconds, but curiosity won over her, and to her own demise, she peaked her head out of the dressing room’s door to try and find you. That’s when you jumped in surprise against her, surrounding her with both your arms to avoid another escape attempt.

“Finally! My vengeance will fall upon thee!” You thickened your voice as your hands fought against your girlfriend to find her tickly spots.

“I promise I won’t do it again!” She giggled, looking at your eyes for forgiveness. “Only if you tell me what you wanted to say downstairs!”

“Ah…” You abruptly stopped trying to reach her, trying to remember what you actually wanted to say. You placed your hands around Gahyeon’s waist, pulling her close to you. “Wait- I don’t remember what that was.”

“Want me to remind you?” You felt her hands sneaking back to your ribs once again, a cheeky smile growing on her perfect lips as she giggled.

“You’re in a very compromised position right now.” You raised your eyebrows this time, softly moving your hands up and down her waist to remind her that you could attack first. “Would you really-”

The new sudden tickle attack caught you off guard, making you accidentally kick the door to the dressing room close behind you. But at least you weren’t defenceless now, as you started tickling her back in response.

Drowning in between your smiles and giggles, you didn’t realize there was a couch sitting exactly behind you. And just one more step back was enough to tumble both of you back over it, with Gahyeon falling on top of you.

“Fine! Fine. I give up!” You breathed out as you took in the impact and laid down the couch comfortably, Gahyeon snuggling against you as you both calmed down your breath.

“So you’re going to tell me what you wanted to say before?” She looked up at you, and there was no way you could say no to the brightest eyes in your life.

“I can’t remember it exactly,” You started, gaining a sigh out of her. You took her chin in your hand and raised her close to your lips. “But I think it would be better to show you.”

Her head tilted in curiosity, with her eyes narrowing full of desire to know and a light nod from her head were enough of an answer for you.

Your hand traveled back to her neck as you pulled her closer to you, crashing your lips together with an accumulated craving from both sides. Letting your fingers play with her hair as you soaked your senses in each other's fragrances.

“Is this what you wanted?” Gahyeon’s voice resembled that of her morning voice, as she tried to keep her tone and volume low. Just exclusive for the moment.

“For longer that I can remember,” You whispered back against her lips, sneaking words between each gentle brush of your lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the girls. But we don’t get much time together… Alone.”

“And you couldn’t wait a bit longer?” She giggled, raising her eyebrows but clearly not against everything that was happening.

“You tell me about it,” You scoffed back. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep her hands off me down in the dressing room.”

“Look,” She moved her hair to the side, shaking her head as she seductively leaned her lips against your ear. “I’ll just say that whoever put you in that outfit deserves a raise.”

“I’ll make sure to pass down that message to the stylist then.” You teased back as you turned your head, capturing her lips with yours once again.

Time seemed to stop for both of you as your lips coordinated their delicate choreography. It didn’t matter how used to each other they were, they would never have enough of the velvet like sensations and flavors, those whose combination sparked fireworks up in your hearts and entire melodies in your bellies.

Her hand made it up to your cheek, gently caressing it as you couldn’t have enough of each other. You raised your hand to meet hers, interlacing your fingers together and pulling your hands apart of your face. A smile growing against your lips prompted you to sit up, directing Gahyeon up with you. Her unoccupied hand shooting up at your collar as she pulled you up herself, not breaking your lips apart at any moment.

Only a lack of air in both your lungs prompted you to halt, but your hands clutching to each other gave up how far from the end this was it. Gahyeon took advantage of the break to move on top of you, straddling your hips. The dim light of the room was enough to catch a glimpse of her hooded eyes and cheeky smile, just as she snaked her arms around your shoulders and up your neck, lacing her hands with your hair.

You let your hands roam to her hips, pulling her as close to you as possible. The smirk growing on your lips caused a big smile on your girlfriend’s face. You shook your head, incredulous of the entire situation, begging that no one woke you up if you were dreaming.

Only Gahyeon was able to bring you back, as she used her hands behind your head to bring you closer to her. Benefiting from that, you placed her lips right on the edge of her jaw, charming your way around her skin. Your hands roamed to her thighs, gently holding at them as you slowly kissed lower each time, eventually arriving at her exposed neck. Little gasps escaped your girlfriend’s mouth as you dangerously kissed closer to her collarbones, but her private whispered whines only kept you wanting more.

“Y/n?” She gasped your name, immediately making you pull apart.

“What happened Jagi?” Your hand gently put her hair behind her ear, resting over her blushing cheeks. “Anything wrong?”

“No, just...” She sheepishly whispered, locking her eyes with yours. A glance full of love in its purest form only made you question why you hadn’t crossed each other’s life earlier. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Not hesitating a second you smiled back at her, gently pulling her head closer to yours.

Connecting your lips once again, lingering with each other a bit more aggressively this time around. Your leather and lace outfits smoothly grinded against each other as you desperately enjoyed each other as much as you could, feeling your heart burn itself with a sweet warmth that you knew only by Gahyeon’s side.

Your tongue brushed against her lips, asking for permission to go further. She let you in with a mild whine as your tongues played against each other for dominance, unleashing brief moans from both of you, as her hands pulled your hair roughly and your fingers dove harsher against the skin on her hips.

Between the clicking of your mouths and the creaking of your complex and expensive costumes, you didn’t notice the door creaking open, and a hand clicking the light over the room.

“Here you are, they’re calling us back to the st-” Dami’s voice abruptly stopped as her eyes laid upon the sight in the room. Her cheeks heavily blushing, her eyes growing in circumference as the words she planned to say completely left her mind.

Both of you jumped apart, looking back at Dami startled. For what seemed like minutes, none of you three dared to move as to try and hide from your own existence, each of you asking for the earth to swallow you whole.

“Oh, look at that,” You cleared your throat as you quickly took your hands off your girlfriend’s hips, hiding them behind your hair. “The light is back…”

“That’s… That’s good!” Gahyeon janked her hands away from your shoulders, standing up from your thighs and fixing back her clothes. “Yes, that’s definitely good.”

Dami could do nothing but stand there just, staring back at forth at the both of you. And you both dared to do anything but stand up and try to fix your clothes as much as you could. A crushing silence engulfed the room as you three just… stood there in awkward quietness.

“Hey, did you find them Unnie?” Your leader’s voice approaching from the hall made you shut your eyes and furrow your eyebrows, shrinking in your place.

“I haven’t but I think I heard Dami over here.” JiU’s voice answering back marked Gahyeon’s turn to hide behind her hands, pulling them up to her face as both’s steps kept moving closer to the room. “There she is!”

“Hey Dami, did you find somethi-” Your leader’s voice now at the door halted when her eyes laid upon yours, as you apologetically smiled back, your cheeks growing in redness.

Both your leaders crossed their arms at the sight in front of them, bearing the disapproving grin all over their faces, it was kind of clear for everyone what had happened in that empty room, and if it wasn’t for poor Dami, who might have to carry that image in her mind for the rest of her life, who knows how far you and Gahyeon could have taken it.

“Do we want to ask about it or...?” JiU called off as a grin grew on her face.

Both of you just shook your head, walking towards the door to go back to work. Your leaders followed you close behind as you walked the halls of the now lighted venue all together. You turned your head towards your girlfriend to catch her already looking back at you with a faint smile on her perfect lips. You returned the smile adding a wink to the mix, to what you both giggled at the ridiculousness of the entire ordeal.

“Oh hey! There you are- WOAH.” SuA stopped her steps as she came closer to both of you. But contrary to the other girls before her, she released a loud chuckle to the air. “Oh Gahyeon-ah. I knew you would take my advice.”

“SuA!” JiU told her off but there was no turning down her loud laughter as that called the rest of the girls around you.

“Yeah…” Siyeon tried to contain back her laughter as she scanned both of you from head to toe. “There’s no way you both are going back into the stage like that, hurry to hair and makeup quickly for a retouch.”

“Yes unnie.” Gahyeon and you chorused as you took a quick peek at each other.

Your disheveled hair-dos matched your lipsticks, that now lied beyond the borders of both your lips. Not mentioning the ran eyeliner, but you could swear that was from the tickling and not the making out part. But neither of you bothered explaining, you both knew you were gonna get nagged about this for a long time, and preferred ot giving them more weapons to do so.

“Dami, are you okay?” Yoohyeon’s sudden change of tone to one more concerned called everyone’s attention to both of them. “You look like you had seen a ghost.”

Gahyeon and you couldn’t contain the cackle that the comment caused, JiU and your leader following with you. Soon everyone but Dami was giggling as they understood the real reason of her appalled expression, as she sighed lowering her head, trying to get the image out of her head.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

#dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #gahyeon imagines #gahyeon scenarios #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios

195 notes · View notes

jingabitch · 4 years

Text

Let Love Be Enough

SUMMARY: On the day of your daughter’s wedding, you can’t avoid Taehyung.

PAIRING: ex-husband!Taehyung x reader

GENRE: angst, smut

RATING: E

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

A/N: i hope you guys like this!! i was pretty uncertain about posting it because it’s not really like my other work, and I wasn’t sure if i was doing the flashbacks well. Thank you to my lovely betas @taetaesbaebaepsae @detectivebts @sweetnspicy93 and @moonmintrails, @dreamystuffers for the banner and @kigurumu and @jkeuphoriadreamland for encouraging me to post it!! Without them the preview wouldn’t even have made it onto Tumblr.

“You look beautiful today, baby.” You were barely holding it together at this point, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling and ruining your makeup. In all fairness to you, your baby girl was getting married. Sunmi looked resplendent in her designer dress, and the entire ceremony was amazing. No expense had been spared – after all, it wasn’t every day that Kim Taehyung’s only daughter got married.

“Thank you, mom,” Sunmi said, squeezing your hand, her own eyes looking a little glossy.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart, and I love you so much.”

Your heartfelt moment with your daughter was interrupted by her father knocking and entering the door. Even after all these years, Taehyung was handsome and stately, and looking at him made your heart skip a beat. The graying of his hair didn’t detract from his attractiveness, giving him a distinguished air, and the crow’s feet had the same effect.

It was really too bad he was your ex-husband.

The thought made your expression tighten, although in the name of maintaining a cordial façade, you kept the smile on your face. “Taehyung,” you greeted coolly. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” you said, turning back to Sunmi and squeezing her shoulder. Normally, you’d have kissed her on the cheek but you didn’t want to mess up her makeup or yours.

“Y/n, please stay.” Taehyung tried to stop you, but you were insistent, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you. Leaning your back against the solid wood, you let out a gusty sigh, his words having brought back memories you’d really prefer to leave behind.

-----------------------------

“Y/n, please stay,” Taehyung begged, both hands grabbing yours as tears streamed down his face. You were equally determined to leave, though – the room, the country, the marriage you’d just witnessed imploding in front of your eyes.

Why, why had you thought that it would be a good idea to come surprise Taehyung on the last day of his tour? Your eyes met the gaze of the other woman in his hotel room over his head. She was perched on the bed, watching with rapt attention at what was happening, and you could just hear the thoughts going through her head.

So this is what Kim Taehyung’s fabled wife looks like, you could see it written all over her face. She’s nothing compared to me.

And she was right, you knew. She was in her early twenties, perfectly made up and coiffed, wearing a tight miniskirt you could have poured yourself into ten years ago but couldn’t anymore. In the teddy you’d bought specially for tonight, you knew she could see every tiny detail of your body, even the bits you didn’t really like, like the stretch marks visible under the sheer fabric of your belly and the thighs that weren’t as firm as they’d been when you first started dating Taehyung.

“Taehyung, let go.” They were the first words you’d said to him tonight, and they just made him cling to you harder as he sobbed. You gritted your teeth and pulled your hand back. If you didn’t get out of here soon, you would burst into tears right alongside him, and you didn’t want to show him that side of you. Not anymore.

Not after he’d betrayed your trust so completely with another woman.

He shook his head frantically. “No, please, please.” You could barely make out the words, he was crying so hard. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees next to him to comfort him, pull him into your arms and rock back and forth. You’d been together for twelve years, after all, and old habits die hard.

But another glance at the hookup he’d brought back to his hotel room made up your mind. He certainly hadn’t cared about your relationship or his vows tonight, finding another girl to warm his bed. Sure, your relationship hadn’t been great for a while, and you took full ownership of your part of the blame for the state of your marriage, but you’d wanted to work on it. You’d flown to the States tonight to make it up to him, show him that you still cared, that you loved him and wanted to put in the effort to make things right.

Instead, you’d found him blowing up your marriage.

“My lawyers will contact yours.” It was the last thing you said before making your escape, the tears falling down your face the moment the door swung shut after you.

-----------------------------

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Sunmi said, taking in the dejected slant of Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of you had divorced when she was seven, and she’d never gotten the full story, but you could barely stand to be in the same room as your ex-husband. You were civil when necessary, but you avoided him as much as possible. It was such a far cry from her memories of when you two were together, when you’d been so close and happy.

“No, it’s okay.” Taehyung waved it away, forcing a smile out even though Sunmi could see that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Today is about you, my love.” Turning to her, he pushed thoughts of his troubled relationship with you out of his mind so that he could pay his daughter the attention she deserved.

Sunmi still watched her father with concern, though, knowing how he got around you. It was a melancholy he wasn’t able to shake until hours after the fact, and it didn’t seem like it had gotten easier for either of you in the twenty years since you’d split up. Sure, you were able to put up a nice front when you couldn’t avoid each other, like at her dance recitals and graduation, but it was clear that neither of you had gotten closure from the divorce.

“Daddy…” Sunmi started, but Taehyung cut her off before she could say anything more.

“You’re so beautiful today, love. You look just like your mother.” Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you, daddy,” Sunmi said, starting to sniffle a little.

-----------------------------

From the moment Sunmi had entered this world, Taehyung had known two things: that she was the spitting image of her mother, and that he was, from that moment, irrevocably wrapped around her little finger.

He’d laughed about it with you, too – how much he loved spoiling her, how hard a time he had telling her no. Taehyung was a devoted father, had been from the start. He’d taken a year off from performing and promoting when she was born so that he could stay in Korea with his new family, especially after the difficult birth you’d had.

You both agreed that you would wait a few years before having more children. Pregnancy and childbirth had been difficult for you, and you weren’t quite ready to go through it again, especially now that you had a young daughter to look after. Still, you were equally committed to having a large family, something you’d been talking about since before marriage.

It was a shock, therefore, to find out after a year of trying for your second child that apparently it would be almost impossible for you to conceive and carry another child to term. You were devastated and so was Taehyung, and, admittedly, neither of you had handled it in the best way.

You could barely stand to look at Taehyung for months after, the guilt of not being able to give him what he wanted and the weight of your own disappointment too much for you to bear. You focused all your attention instead on the daughter you already had in a bid to avoid your husband, and you’d be the first to admit that that hadn’t been the best way to deal with things. Not when Taehyung was grieving the loss of his dream too.

With his wife slipping, it seemed, further out of reach every day, Taehyung did the only thing it felt like he could do. He threw himself into his work, which was made easier by the fact that Jungkook was away serving in the military and Namjoon’s wife had just given birth to the couple’s first child.

By the time he left for that world tour, you were barely speaking to your husband and it felt like you were roommates and acquaintances more than husband and wife. He wanted to fix it, but he didn’t know how to, and you were stubbornly resistant to any attempts to reconcile. It was frustrating, to say the least – he wanted to be there for you, but he didn’t know how to help.

-----------------------------

Taehyung, seated at the table with his family and former band members, watched wistfully as you stood up to toast the happy couple. He didn’t think he’d seen you smile so happily since before the divorce, back when things had been good between the two of you.

“Sunmi and Michael,” you started. “I want to start by congratulating you both. Today has been a beautiful day, and the love you have for each other and for everyone here today is so evident.”

“I remember when Sunmi told me that she was dating Michael – she was only a freshman in college in a foreign country, and I was excited and supportive, but at the time, I had no idea that this relationship would go so far. You have overcome so many obstacles to be together, some of which I’ve witnessed, and many, I’m sure, that I haven’t. Nevertheless, I can see that what you two share is a deep, strong love, that will withstand the test of time.

“If I may, as a mother, offer some advice – although I might not be the best person to give relationship advice,” you added wryly, to chuckles from the crowd, “I know you have the basics covered. Be slow to anger and quick to forgive and remember that you’re a team. But,” you went on, your eyes flicking to Taehyung just for a second, “marriage is difficult, and it takes work. Trust that you’ve got each other’s backs, and communicate about everything, no matter how hard it seems at the time.”

Taehyung’s gaze softened, knowing that it was an implicit apology for your role in the breakdown of your marriage. He was the one who’d ultimately blown it up, something he’d accepted a long time ago, but neither of you had acted like model spouses.

“I believe with all my heart that this is a relationship that will go the distance, and it is my honour to make the first toast to the happy couple!” You concluded, raising your glass of champagne. Everyone in the room followed suit, and you smiled again at them before sitting down.

Jimin leaned over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied quietly. He was better than okay. In fact, he felt lighter than he had in years.

-----------------------------

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked for what must have been the hundredth time today. Taehyung couldn’t quite blame you – when you’d gotten married, you’d given up your dream of a family picnic along the Han River Park. There was no way in hell Kim Taehyung wouldn’t be recognized in a public place like that, so it wasn’t feasible at all.

It wasn’t like you were giving up a whole lot – he could afford to take your whole family to resorts, safaris, you name it. Still, the little girl in you that had so many precious memories at the Han River Park with your own family and friends wanted to recreate it with your own children.

Which was why he’d made this plan for your fifth anniversary. He’d called your assistant to let her know to cancel all your appointments today and booked out the entire park so you could finally have the family picnic you’d always dreamed of. It wouldn’t be exactly the same, of course. The rest of the park was basically deserted. But this was so much more than you’d expected, and you almost couldn’t believe that he’d managed to do this.

When you expressed this to your husband, he just smugly noted that you continued to underestimate him even after eight years of being together.

“Of course,” you noted drily. “You are the very epitome of extra.” Still, you leaned over Sunmi’s head to kiss him in a manner that suggested that you’d be doing a lot more if not for the child sitting between you.

“Mommy!” Sunmi cried shrilly, and you broke away from your husband to give your daughter the attention she demanded.

“Yes, baby?”

“I wanna ride the bicycle!” Sunmi told you, pointing out the car window at the bike rental shop.

“Okay, baby,” you agreed easily.

After the bicycle ride, you settled down for a picnic, letting Sunmi gorge herself on fried chicken and delivery food that she rarely got to indulge in because you were all about feeding her a nutritious, balanced diet.

By the time you left the park that evening, Sunmi was fast asleep in her daddy’s arms while you cleared your picnic area and walked next to Taehyung back to the car. The sunset painted the sky bright pink and orange, the fiery ball of the sun disappearing behind the bridge.

“Thank you for today, Tae,” you said, resting your hand on the small of his back as you stretched up to kiss him.

“It was my pleasure. Happy anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary, Tae. I love you.”

-----------------------------

Watching from your table as the happy couple enjoyed their first dance together, you reached for your glass of wine. Being the mother of the bride was hard work, and you were taking the moment to appreciate that everything seemed to have gone off without a hitch. You had to give Taehyung credit where it was due – he’d always been a good father, and despite everything that had happened between you, he’d never let anything get in the way of his responsibilities as a dad. He’d truly spared no expense when it came to the wedding, and it showed.

After the first dance, the rest of the guests were invited to dance too, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You hadn’t brought a date to the wedding, not wanting to cause any drama with your ex-husband, his family and band members, and it seemed like he hadn’t either.

You didn’t make a habit of prying into his personal life – ever since the divorce, your interactions had been solely about Sunmi. You regretted it a little now, realizing that you’d lost your husband and best friend in one fell swoop, but back then, you’d been so hurt and angry, wanting to punish him as much as you’d needed the space to heal. In fact, this was the longest you’d been in the same room with him since the divorce proceedings.

-----------------------------

It was cold in the meeting room, and the air conditioning unit was incredibly loud, you noted mechanically. You looked around anxiously, picking at the skin around your nails – an awful habit that Taehyung had tried without avail for years to get you to quit. It was just you and your lawyer in here right now, since you’d come a little early to discuss the case with her, but you were expecting Taehyung to come in any moment now.

He didn’t want the divorce, you knew that. You could still hear his sobs ringing in your ears from the last time you’d met, when he chased you back to Korea and tried to apologize, explain, grovel.

When Taehyung and his lawyer came in, you stood up out of politeness, shaking hands with the lawyer.

“Taehyung,” you greeted tightly, your body wound tight. Your fight-or-flight instinct was already activated, and you were ready to throw down if necessary. Not that you really thought it’d be needed, but you really didn’t want him trying to cajole you out of this. Your mind was made up. How could your relationship continue if you couldn’t trust him anymore?

“Y/n,” he replied. You could hear the slight wobble in his voice, and for just a second, you felt bad. Despite everything that had happened, you still loved him, and some part of you didn’t want to hurt him. In fact, you had to fight the urge to round the table and pull him into a hug, like you’d used to when he was upset.

Swallowing hard, you took your seat instead, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap. You’d lost that right when you decided to end the marriage, you reminded yourself. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to comfort him. You couldn’t anymore, not when you were the cause of his pain. You’d never wanted to be that to him, but that was neither here nor there – you hadn’t wanted to catch your husband hooking up with another woman in a random hotel room either.

To your surprise, the division of assets went more smoothly than you’d expected. You’d heard horror stories of ridiculous fighting over every last penny and had steeled yourself for that. After all, despite your own professional success it was clear to everyone that the bulk of your combined income as a couple came from Taehyung. It wasn’t that you wanted to take him through the wringer or anything like that, but you didn’t want to be left out on the streets with Sunmi either.

There was no question that you would be awarded primary custody of your daughter – Taehyung’s job took him overseas for extended periods of time, even taking into account the fact that the group was slowing down now as the demands of real life grew.

The division of assets was challenging, but you ran into the opposite problem from what you had feared. Taehyung, once he’d accepted that this divorce was happening, seemed intent on heaping wealth on you. He tried to offer you the house – which you rejected, instead asking for an apartment that you jointly owned instead. The house would be difficult to maintain, you reasoned, which led to him offering to pay for all maintenance and even for cleaners. You also had to bargain the alimony payments down, to the surprise and amusement of your lawyers. You didn’t need any money from him, you maintained, though you did accept child support.

Still, because there was so little fighting between the two of you, it was over quickly, and the one meeting was enough to settle everything. The lawyers excused themselves, telling you that the final divorce agreement would be sent to you both to sign, and then you were alone.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was filled with anguish and sadness. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you acknowledged, swallowing back the tears.

“Do we have to do this? You know I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me,” he pleaded. “I’ll quit the band, we can go for couples therapy… please, just don’t leave me.”

“Tae…” It was the last time you would call him that. “I can’t trust you anymore, you know that.”

“I understand.” It didn’t mean he liked it, though.

Reaching over, you squeezed his hand. You withdrew more slowly than was strictly necessary, but still too quickly for him, and he felt the loss of the warmth from your hand as if in slow motion, fighting back the almost desperate urge to cling to you and never let you leave him, because when you walked out the door, it would really be over.

But you didn’t want him anymore, and nothing he said could change your mind. He watched quietly as you left, taking in every detail of your departing figure before the closing door obstructed his vision, before he broke down in tears.

-----------------------------

With enough time and distance, you could admit that Taehyung was the love of your life. You’d had boyfriends before and after him, but no one had ever made you feel the way he had, like you were soaring above the ground, but unafraid because you knew he would be there to catch you.

Maybe that was why you’d fallen so hard, been hurt so badly. The betrayal coming from the person who’d sworn never to dishonor you had cut you open, and you’d never healed right.

Everyone at your table had gotten up to join the dance floor now, and you were sitting alone, watching.

Looking around, you signaled for a waiter to top up your glass of wine. Now that everything was pretty much done, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a little drunk – just to take the edge off the day you’d been having. As nice as the day had been and as proud as you were to watch your baby girl getting married… these events were difficult for you.

You kept remembering your own wedding day, when you’d been so incandescently happy to be marrying Taehyung. Back then, you too had thought you were entering a union that would last a lifetime. But your marriage had been unable to withstand the challenges that life had thrown at you, and all you’d been left with at the end was the broken shambles of a life to pick up and try to piece back together even though there was a giant hole in it.

You were frowning into your glass of wine when Taehyung came to sit next to you. “Hey,” he said quietly, and you turned your head to look at him.

“Hello,” you responded, your voice polite but cold, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone. You’d truly had enough, and you didn’t have the emotional strength today to sit and make small talk with Taehyung. Even after so many years, the wounds were still raw and painful.

If your ex-husband was anything, however, it was persistent. “It was a beautiful ceremony,” he pressed on.

“It was,” you agreed coolly. Your hands were resting on the table, and you moved them into your lap, fisting them in the fabric of your dress.

“It made me think of the day we got married.”

Before you knew it, you’d shot out of your seat, the visceral distress at hearing him say those words giving you a jolt of adrenaline. You had to get out of there. “Taehyung, please stop.”

“Y/n, please. You’ve basically ignored my existence for twenty years. I miss you. If you won’t give me anything else, at least let me talk to you tonight.”

When you opened your mouth to speak, your throat felt tight, and you knew you were going to cry. “I—I can’t,” you choked out, before bolting. You streaked out of the ballroom, your body on autopilot, the only thing on your mind getting out of there.

Taehyung watched as you ran from him, guilt stealing over his features. He’d never meant to cause you pain, now or then, but it seemed that was all he was able to do. All he’d been doing for a long time.

He looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed your disappearance and was going to go look for you, but it didn’t look like it – Sunmi and her husband were still wrapped up in each other, as they should be, and almost everyone else was either dancing or at the bar, already drunk.

Sighing, he got out of his seat. He was reluctant to chase you down since his insistence on speaking to you was what had upset you in the first place, but there was nobody else to do it. He just hoped that he would be able to hold it together to actually help you.

You might have let your body carry you wherever it wanted to go, but Taehyung walked with purpose. He had a pretty good idea of where you were, and his hunch was proven right when he saw you pacing by the pool. For some reason, you’d always had an affinity for pools.

“Y/n,” he called out, and you stopped your pacing to turn around.

“How did you find me so quickly?” you asked with a frown, and he shrugged.

“You haven’t changed much in twenty years.”

-----------------------------

Taehyung swallowed hard as he looked up at the house. For almost ten years now, this had been his home. But now as he approached, fishing his keys out of his backpack, he couldn’t help the trepidation that filled him, making his hands shake and his heart pound.

He didn’t know what to say to you, didn’t know how to fix this. With his heart sinking into his stomach, he admitted to himself for the first time that maybe this couldn’t be fixed.

God, he didn’t even know why he’d done that, gone out to get drunk and find some other girl to hook up with. He’d just been so lonely, and it had been so long since he’d had sex. Even before the tour, which had been nine months long, you two had been on such bad terms that you hadn’t slept together in months. It didn’t excuse his appalling lapse in judgement, though.

With a sigh, he opened the door and stepped into the house, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw all your shoes, still lined up neatly on the shelves. So, you hadn’t left, then.

Dropping his things on the floor, he made his way through the house. At the beginning of your relationship, he might have checked the bedroom or the couch – any of the usual places where someone might be moping – but now he knew better.

Just as he’d expected, you were sitting in a lounge chair by the pool out back, a bottle and a single wine glass on the side table next to you. You turned your head when you heard the sound of the door opening, though you didn’t bother greeting him. The pool area was dark, lit only by the moon and the light shining through the windows in the house.

As he drew closer, he saw that your face was stained with tears, but your eyes were dry.

“Y/n,” he greeted uncertainly, drawing closer.

“You’re here,” you observed, your voice impassive. No hello, no welcome home.

“I had to talk to you, to apologize. Please, Y/n, I—” In his desperation, his voice grew louder, and in response you drew back, folding your arms across your chest and pulling your legs in, turning your face away from his stubbornly.

“I think everything there is to be said has been said.”

“No, Y/n, please, it was a mistake, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Taehyung sat at the edge of the lounge chair, and your shoulders hunched over more tightly, betraying your discomfort.

“Well, you did. Please leave,” you requested.

“Y/n, please, talk to me,” he begged, reaching out to put his hand on your knee, before thinking better of it and pulling back. His fists clenched in his lap.

“I said everything I had to say last night. I don’t want to see you right now.” Your voice was tightly controlled. You didn’t want him to see you falling apart. He didn’t get to know how heartbroken you were, how he’d destroyed you.

“Divorce?! Y/n, please. I made a mistake and I know it was bad, but we can get through this, can’t we? We can figure it out. I’ll do anything, I swear.” His voice trembled helplessly, and he felt cold all over. It felt like he was falling to pieces in front of you, and you wouldn’t help. “I’ll work to earn your forgiveness, I swear.” You could hear the earnestness in his voice and knew that he was telling the truth. If Taehyung was anything, it was a hard worker, and you knew he would dedicate himself to this task like he’d never done before.

But it wasn’t enough. “I can’t. I can’t get past this, Taehyung.” With those words, you got up and walked away from him again, leaving him in the dark. By the time he managed to marshal the strength to move his body, you were gone from the house. He didn’t see you again until the division of assets.

-----------------------------

“Taehyung…” Your voice trailed off, your shoulders hunching around your ears uncomfortably. You knew you were both recalling that night, when he’d begged you to forgive him, or at least give him a chance to earn your forgiveness, and you’d rejected him flatly.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His next words surprised you somewhat. You’d been expecting him to continue with your earlier topic of conversation. This, though, wasn’t necessarily better. The words echoed in your head and turned into his desperate, sobbed apologies of twenty years ago. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You inclined your head in a stiff nod, grudgingly accepting his apology and hoping he would leave you to your thoughts. Why did he still do this to you? He’d been your ex-husband now for longer than you’d been together, and yet you remained so easily affected by him.

Damn Kim Taehyung, you thought suddenly, viciously. He’d sunk his claws into you thirty-two years ago and had never let you go. With the sudden flash of anger and resentment fueling you, you bit out, “You never do.”

Right in front of your eyes, Taehyung seemed to deflate. His shoulders slumped and he put his hands in his pocket, head bowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. When you made your speech earlier, he’d genuinely thought that you were extending an olive branch to him. It was why he’d tried again to talk to you. It seemed like, not for the first time, he was wrong. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

With that, he turned and started to walk away. Cursing your inability to let him go, you called out to him. “Wait, Taehyung.”

He spun around so quickly you felt a little dizzy on his behalf. “What is it?” he asked earnestly, his eyes wide.

“That was mean of me to say, and it was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged awkwardly, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “Don’t be. I understand that you still hate me. I would too.”

Since it seemed like tonight was a night for spilling secrets, yours tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. “I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”

His reaction was so dramatic it was almost comical. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he took a half-step towards you before stopping short, not sure what to do with that information. “But—but you…”

Cringing as awareness of what you’d told him filtered back into your brain, you turned away, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Y/n, talk to me, please,” he pleaded. “I just want to understand.” You could hear from his voice and footsteps that he was approaching you, and he stopped just a few paces away, wanting to be closer but trying not to overcrowd you.

“Stop it, Tae,” you said, the old nickname slipping out in your distraction. It didn’t even register with you as you grappled with your emotions, trying to rein them in, but he had to moderate his voice to stop the joy from coming through.

“If you tell me to go I will, Y/n, but I’m just curious. I’ve spent the past twenty years thinking you hated me for what I did. I mean, you’ve barely been able to look at me for all this time.”

“Taehyung…” You turned back to him, then noted the intensity of his gaze with some surprise. It compelled you to speak, like it always had. “I never hated you. I couldn’t. I can’t.”

“Then… then why?” His voice broke on the last word, his voice filled with hurt and confusion.

You gave him a small shrug. “I couldn’t trust you anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand why I didn’t think you were trustworthy after finding you about to hook up with a girl while you were on tour?” You rolled your eyes derisively. “It’s not rocket science, Tae. Was that even the first time?”

“What—Yes!” he yelled. “I swear to God, Y/n. It was a mistake. A shitty, terrible mistake, and one that I apologized for a million times. But you wouldn’t even listen to me, and I thought it was because you hated me, but now… we could have worked this out, couldn’t we?” The raw longing in his voice made you look away from him, because your eyes were filling with tears.

“Stop it,” you choked. “This is ancient history. There’s no point in bringing it up.”

“Y/n, it may be ‘ancient history’ to you, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about it. I love you, and I never stopped, even though everything went so wrong. I know you don’t have to do this. You can walk away right now, and I won’t chase you, I swear. But if you don’t mind, I really, really want to know what was going through your mind then.”

You bit your lip, your face still turned away from him, as you thought about it. For twenty years you’d hidden your tears from him, but if you decided to accede to his request, that ended tonight. Were you strong enough?

“Love… isn’t enough for a relationship, Tae. How was I supposed to trust you after what I saw?” You picked at an imaginary loose thread on your dress.

“Love? You still loved me after that?” Incredulity coloured his voice. You didn’t blame him – you hadn’t exactly shown it, instead pushing him away relentlessly.

“Taehyung…” Your voice caught. You’d always known, intellectually, that you’d hurt him, but seeing his anguish written all over his face made it real. “You’re the love of my life. I could never stop loving you.”

“Y/n…” Taehyung felt like his soul had left his body. Moving completely on autopilot, he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing right in front of you, one hand on your waist. “Please,” he whispered, his other hand cupping your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you.

You wanted to push him away and run off, screaming, but instead your eyes fluttered shut as he brushed his lips against yours gently, your hands reaching out to grasp his shirt. “Tae,” you said, your voice basically a wisp of air, when he pulled back.

“Thank you,” he rasped, starting to step back. As pathetic as it sounded, that tiny, chaste kiss was enough to last him the rest of his life.

It wasn’t enough for you, though. You’d forgotten – forced yourself to forget – what it felt like to have him pressed against you, towering over you, worshipping you with every caress. All of that had been tainted when you saw him with that other nameless girl, but having him here with you now, twenty years later, you felt the first inklings of doubt. After so much time and everything that had happened, he was still here with you, begging you to talk to him. It was clear that he loved you and you certainly felt the same way about him, and for the first time, you asked yourself – could love be enough?

When he made to move away, you tightened your fingers in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close. Taehyung looked down at you with surprise. “Y/n… what is it?” he asked.

Instead of answering him in words, you pulled him flush to your body and kissed him again, releasing his shirt in favour of winding your arms around his neck as his body collided into yours. Unlike the last one, this wasn’t a gentle, chaste peck. Your kiss was filled with all the longing and passion of the past twenty years, and Taehyung couldn’t help but react, his hands gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss hungrily.

You moaned into the kiss, a high-pitched, needy sound, as your arms tightened around his neck, pulling him yet closer to you. Hearing it, Taehyung tightened his grip on your waist, shuddering as he rolled his hips helplessly against you.

Breaking away from the kiss, Taehyung rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling with his in the small space between your faces. “Y/n,” he panted.

“Tae,” you whined, your arms dropping to your sides as you hooked your fingers in his belt loops. “I missed you so much.”

He swore under his breath. This seemed like the reconciliation he’d dreamed of for so many years, but something was off. He’d always been able to tell with you, and he knew he didn’t have the whole story yet. It would be irresponsible and selfish for him to pursue this while you were clearly still in a fragile state, and as much as some dark part of him wanted to, he couldn’t do that to you.

So he took a step back and sucked in a deep breath to regain his composure – then almost lost it promptly when he saw you staring at him with that dark, intense gaze that haunted his dreams. “Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled, ducking his head to hide his flush. “I’m trying to be good.”

“Could have tried that twenty years ago,” you muttered, but Taehyung, being so close to you, heard. The words cut through the haze in his mind like a knife and he dropped his arms to his sides immediately, turning away from you to hide how much your words had hurt him. He knew he deserved it, but the pain of hearing how much you hated him, dashing the new, timid hope growing in his chest like grass in the spring… it devastated him.

“Y/n… I’m sorry,” he choked, his hands balling into fists. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for doing that, and for hurting you, and if there was one thing in my life I could take back, it would be that. I’ve apologized a million times over; I’ve offered to leave you alone tonight. You were the one who initiated that kiss. I just—I don’t know what you want from me.

“I can’t do this anymore. I love you so much, and even though you say you love me, you’ll never forgive me. It just… it hurts so much, knowing that nothing I say or do will ever be enough to make it better.”

His words tore through you, shredding your anger and resentment like tissue. Your hurt may be old, but his… it was fresh, and every time you rejected his company or made a snide remark, it was like rubbing salt in his wounds. You knew he was sorry, that he regretted it, and sometimes even you wondered why that wasn’t enough for you.

Darting forward, you grasped his large fist, cupping it between your hands. “Taehyung, I’m sorry.” Your words were sincere and heartfelt, and you gripped his hand tightly, like you were afraid he would leave – and why wouldn’t he? He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough once, and you’d walked away from him. Really, how could you blame him for doing the same thing?

“I know I wasn’t a perfect wife.” It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud. “It doesn’t excuse what you did, but learning that I couldn’t have more children was heartbreaking for me.”

Taehyung stopped short. You’d never acknowledged this before. Without thinking about it, he uncurled his fingers to hold your hand, giving you what support he could as the confession spilled from your lips.

“I know you wanted children, a big family. Finding out that I couldn’t give you that…” Your voice broke, and Taehyung reacted, turning to draw you into his arms. You nestled in his embrace like you’d never left, your body fitting perfectly against his.

“I felt like I wasn’t enough.” You’d been carrying this secret hurt inside you for so long, and to say it out loud gave you a sense of relief, as if a crushing weight had been lifted from your chest.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was thick with emotion. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, that you’d always been enough for him, but he couldn’t find the words.

“And seeing you with her… it just made it so much worse.” You were sobbing now, your fists clenched as you cried into his shirtfront, reliving the anguish you’d felt at believing yourself inadequate, how much you’d hated him even as you loved him like you’d never loved anyone before or since. How could someone you’d let into the deepest recesses of your soul use that power to hurt you so badly, you’d wondered. That night had been a confirmation of every secret fear you’d let fester for a year, and you’d run from the hurt as fast and as far as you could.

As much as he wanted to sink to his knees, Taehyung forced himself to remain standing, so you could lean on him. It was the one thing he could offer you, and even though it was laughably insufficient to fend off the wave of guilt that crashed over him, he forced himself to, tucking your head under his chin and gathering you up like he could shield you from the pain.

“Y/n… you’ve always been enough for me. Only you could be enough for me. And I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word. For the first time, words couldn’t capture the depth of his remorse, how fucking bad he felt. He would gladly tear out his heart and present it to you if it made you feel just a tiny bit better. It had always been yours, anyway.

Even though Taehyung had apologized to you countless times before, this was the first time you truly believed it, and the sorrow and remorse in his voice filtered through the haze of hurt and anger that you’d been living under for decades. He held onto you like you’d evaporate if he let you step out of his arms, like he was going to hug you for the next twenty years, for all the time he had missed.

You stayed like that for five minutes, just soaking in each other’s presence and comfort, but eventually common sense began coming back to you. “Taehyung,” you sniffled, wriggling slightly in his grasp.

“Just a little longer, please,” he begged, the words whispered into your hair.

“Taehyung, we can’t stay out here.”

He whined, sounding incredibly childlike and not at all like the distinguished middle-aged man he was. “I don’t want this to end,” he pouted.

“Tae—”

He cut you off by squeezing you so tightly you squeaked as the air left your lungs. Rolling your eyes fondly – some things never changed, it seemed – you squirmed determinedly until he had no choice but to let you go, and he stared at you with a bereft gaze.

“Come on, you drama queen,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He perked up visibly and put his hand in yours, not even questioning where you were taking him.

Taking him to your hotel room felt familiar, but new and exciting at the same time. It brought to your mind memories of sneaking around back when you’d first started dating, when he would come over to your apartment in the middle of the night, and you’d smuggle him in, giggling the whole time.

It wasn’t like you were necessarily doing anything wrong – both of you were single, adults, and this time, there weren’t any pesky contractual obligations to keep all relationships out of the public eye. Catching the divorced parents of the bride sneaking off together might raise a couple of eyebrows, though.

Taehyung wound his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch as you fiddled with the key card. Now that you were back in his arms, he found himself basically unable to give it up, hungrily soaking in all the physical contact he’d dreamt of for so long. When you managed to get the door open and stepped through, he refused to let go, instead doing a strange crab-walk while still clinging to you.

“Tae,” you giggled, your hands resting on his arms. “You need to let go.”

“Never,” he insisted, burying his face in your neck. “Not letting you go again,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Tae…” your voice trailed off as you focused on taking off your shoes, which was made more difficult by the new limpet you’d acquired. Now a few inches shorter, you turned in his embrace and tilted your head up to brush your nose against his. The cute gesture was somewhat undermined by the way he immediately claimed your lips in a torrid kiss, his large hand splayed across the back of your head, and you knew that if not for the updo your hair was currently welded into, he would already be tugging on it.

“I missed you so much,” he groaned, his hand sliding from your head to the top of the zipper on the back of your dress. Instead of sliding it down, though, he paused, fiddling nervously with the tab.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, opening your eyes as you pulled back slightly.

“Are you sure you want this?”

You took a step back, out of his grasp, so you could get a better look at him. “Are you?”

Taehyung hesitated. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous about this. It was what he’d wanted for years, right?

“Tae…” As always, you could read him perfectly, and you held out your hand to him. “Come talk to me. What’s bothering you?” You led him to the couch, sitting down on the mattress facing him. He refused to let go of your hand, and you had to lean forward awkwardly.

“You won’t leave again, right?” he asked anxiously, and your brows shot up in surprise. His gaze continued darting around the room, refusing to settle on you, and you got up, closing the distance between you as you sat sideways on his lap.

“Tae, what are you talking about?” you asked, your fingers winding into the short hairs at the nape of his neck and stroking softly, the way you remembered he liked.

His lip wobbled, and you wanted to kiss it better. “I don’t want you to leave me again,” he confessed.

“Tae… this is my room. I’m not going anywhere,” you pointed out, and the slightly exasperated side-eye he gave you had you biting your lip to stifle a smirk. Becoming serious now, you added, “I promise I won’t disappear, okay? We can take things slow, and see where it goes,” before you pulled him close and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

This wasn’t exactly what Taehyung wanted, but he supposed it was reasonable. Acquiescing, he turned to kiss you properly, allowing it to grow heated. You moved to straddle him, but the long dress made it difficult, and you hiked it up around your hips impatiently. Taehyung ran his tongue along your bottom lip and you moaned, heat pooling in your lower belly.

The sound spurred Taehyung to drag you closer to him, his hands kneading the flesh around your hips hungrily. You felt a flash of self-consciousness – the last time he’d seen you naked was decades ago, and your body had definitely changed since then, and not for the better. The greedy way he felt you up with the same hunger as he had back in your twenties when everything was new and exciting, though, banished the insecurities from your mind quickly.

Still kissing him, you ran your hands up his chest, delighting in how firm and solid he still was, before tugging his tie loose and dropping it carelessly somewhere. You attacked the buttons on his shirt impatiently, almost too excited to work them properly. Taehyung wasn’t faring any better, having roughly pulled your zipper all the way down – you gave a silent prayer for the nice zipper on the expensive dress, because if it had gotten caught, he would probably have ripped the whole thing.

You let go of him just long enough to allow him to push the dress off your shoulders so it pooled around your waist, and shivered as he put his hands on your bare skin, running them up your back to pop open the clasp of your bra.

“Tae,” you whined, tugging on his shirt, and he chuckled as he moved to help you with the rest of the buttons while you shrugged the straps of your bra off, tossing it behind you somewhere. His undershirt went the same way, and you moaned when his bare chest made contact with yours, kissing him frantically as you squirmed on top of him.

Taehyung wasn’t unaffected – you could feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh as he fondled your breast, rubbing his thumb against your pebbled nipple. “Fuck, Y/n,” he groaned in that deep, raspy baritone that you’d missed so much, his hands dropping to your thighs as he held you against him, standing up and depositing you on the bed. You gasped in surprise – you’d always enjoyed being manhandled by him, and were impressed that he was still able to lift you up so easily.

Instead of joining you immediately, he yanked your dress all the way off, letting it pool on the floor, before reaching for his belt. He wasn’t able to get it off before you hooked your fingers in his belt loops and yanked him towards you impatiently, causing him to lose his balance and fall on you. “Y/n,” he grumbled, though there was laughter in his voice. He pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at you, and you undid his belt with far greater dexterity than you’d handled his shirt buttons.

Pulling the leather through the loops – and shivering at the whistling sound the belt made, a familiar one from your more adventurous romps from days past – you dropped it beside you before working on his trousers.

“Someone’s impatient,” Taehyung teased, and you scoffed at him.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and he didn’t respond immediately, but that might have been because you plunged your hand into his underwear to grasp his hard cock. Taehyung had always been big, and you clenched on yourself as you remembered what it had felt like to have him stretching you open. God, how you’d missed him, pined for him on those long, lonely nights.

You pumped his cock slowly, running your thumb across the head to collect the pre-cum already beading there and listening to him growl and pant above you, long fingers diving into your panties to stroke you eagerly as his lips returned to yours. He found you wet and sticky already, dipping his fingers in the orifice before returning to circle your clit with all the expertise you’d come to expect after almost a decade of marriage. Some things were embedded in your muscle memory and being with each other felt like that.

Because you knew it would drive him wild, you released his erection, causing him to pull away to look down at you questioningly. With a smirk, you raised your hand to your mouth, dragging the pad of your thumb across your tongue. “Hmm,” you cooed, your eyes fluttering shut. “You taste just as good as I remember.”

“Fuck.” The expletive punched out of Taehyung with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, leaving him breathless. You were so flawless, perfect for him in every way, and he couldn’t wait anymore. He pulled your panties off so hard that they ripped before pushing his own boxers down just far enough to release his painful erection. The head was flushed bright red, the veins standing out along the length, and your mouth watered, but that wasn’t what he was going for right now.

As he pushed your thighs apart with his own, one hand snaked around his cock, stroking it a few times to take the edge off. You both watched, enthralled, as he slid the head of his erection along your slit, gathering up the wetness, before pressing into you. The stretch was immediate, tears springing to your eyes as you tensed up in response.

“Fuck, Y/n, you’re so tight,” Taehyung gritted, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue slid against yours filthily, making you moan, as his fingers reached between you to rub your clit. “I missed you, I love you, I love you,” he groaned as he sank into you, your heels pressing against the small of his back and egging him on. You’d half expected him to pound you into tomorrow after the urgency of the foreplay, but he seemed content to take it slow, kissing you and caressing your side as he thrust almost lazily. He buried his face in your neck and you stroked his hair as your breath caught on the pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you breathed, your voice hitching as he brushed against your g-spot. Of course he remembered exactly where it was, you thought fondly. “I love you so much,” you confessed, the words hanging in the air. He didn’t respond to you, continuing the smooth motions of his hips, and you wondered if he was even listening to you, but then you heard it.

A sob, muffled against your neck. The sound made you panic, and you pushed at his shoulders so that you could look at him. He resisted a little, but you kept stroking your hands down his sides to reassure him. “Tae, are you okay? Is this okay?”

Finally, he lifted himself off you, but immediately went in for another kiss, this time tender and sweet, his lips moving gently against yours. “Say that again?” he requested, and you could see the tears shining in his eyes.

“Tae, I love you,” you moaned as he drove into you harder, gripping your thigh as he angled himself to hit your g-spot again. He was rushing for the finishing line now, you could tell, as he reached back down to thumb at your clit with unerring precision. Your confession had done it for him, but he would not cum before you. It had to be perfect, the best beginning to your future together.

“Again,” he breathed, needing to hear the words from you once more, and you acquiesced, repeating it with each thrust, until the pleasure grew too great and you just gasped and moaned instead, spelling your love for him out in the scratches on his back and the way your heels drummed against him, begging him to get closer, deeper inside of you, to never leave.

“Tae—fuck,” you cried out as you crested, clenching hard on his cock in you as your arms and legs tightened around him. In that instant, as close as he was to you, you needed more, tears springing to your eyes at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you after so long, gentle but sure, reverent yet debased.

Feeling you orgasm around him was too much for his already faltering restraint, and with a final thrust, he came, shuddering in your arms as he shot ropes of cum deep inside you.

In the aftermath, Taehyung sank down on you, and though you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay like this forever, you welcomed his weight pressing you into the bed. He almost surrounded you, his warmth comforting, and you stroked his back as he caught his breath.

A moment later, he lifted himself off you, seeking another kiss which you happily gave him. He tucked an errant strand of hair that had stuck itself to your sweaty cheek behind your ear, and you smiled up at him, eyes shining. As amazing as the sex was, Taehyung had always shown the extent of his love for you through those tender, soft touches that came like second nature to him.

“I love you,” he told you again, emotion shimmering in his eyes. You were tempted to be cheeky and say I know, because he’d told you so many times tonight, but you could sense the vulnerability radiating off him and knew this wasn’t the right moment for your sass.

“I love you too,” you told him instead, reaching up to cup his face and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe the tear that escaped. There was so much more you had to talk about – establishing boundaries and rules for this new old relationship, clearing the air between you. Hell, after twenty years apart, who knew if you were still compatible with each other?

However, you pushed all those thoughts away as you hugged Taehyung’s sweaty, exhausted body closer to you. Just for tonight, you promised yourself, you would let love be enough.

#bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #kim taehyung #bts fanfiction

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milkybonya · 3 years

Text

In THE DaRk

order 004 for anon: large coconut milk tea (In THE DaRk by BOBBy) with regular tapioca pearls and fresh taro

Warnings: food mentions

Pairing: idol!Hui x delivery worker!reader

Summary: you deliver food to cube ent. and end up becoming friends with Hui, an idol who's at the peak of his career... but he finds himself falling for you even as his songs rise on the charts :")

Word count: like maybe 3k?

[a/n]: i love this request because i love this song and writing it while listening to the song on loop in the dark of my room just made me so happy? also i put wayyyy more effort into this than necessary and it turned out super long >.< i'm so sorry anonnie i hope you like itttt ahhh

Shine, you shine on my existence

Sure, Hui was an idol with a life of his own - especially now, during Shine promotions, that his group, PENTAGON, was blowing up. Yet he never failed to make time for you, because you were the light of his life.

As a hardworking idol who was always cooped up in his studio and skipping meals, his members encouraged him to at least order food. He was reluctant but eventually agreed, not wanting to make them worry.

That's where you came in: a delivery worker at a local restaurant not too far from Cube entertainment, Hui's company. A lot of people ordered from your restaurant to Cube, so you weren't surprised when a new order flashed on the iPad screen at your workplace.

"We've got another delivery, [y/n]," the worker at the front told you with a smile, walking to the back to tell the cooks what to prepare.

You tapped your feet against the ground, awaiting the order. Once it was prepared, you carefully placed it in your delivery bag, fastened it to your bike and off you went, wearing a helmet of course.

The gentle breeze was enough to cheer you up and give you energy, despite the scene around you being full of traffic and slightly bleak.

Once you arrived, the guards let you in without even checking your workplace ID this time, recognizing you as a trusted delivery person.

You made your way up to the floor listed on the order, roaming through countless hallways until you finally found the right room. Judging by the area and the doors, it seemed to be full of studios.

The person who ordered this must be working hard, you thought to yourself.

Suddenly, you got an urge to leave a note, wishing the person well. You took out a scrap piece of paper and a pen that you always had handy, your heart racing and your hands shaking at the thought of doing this. You were excited at the idea of the person being happy to see such a cheerful note...

I hope you enjoy this meal and that it gives you enough energy to keep working hard :) Go for it!

After neatly placing the food and note at the door, you knocked and walked away, not wanting to bother the person. Even though you didn't turn your back, you heard the door open a few seconds later.

"Thank you!" a voice echoed through the hall.

You turned quickly to say ‘you’re welcome’ in response and caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a young idol hard at work. His hair was messy and he had dark circles under his eyes, but his mismatches clothes and bright smile were quite cute.

You thought that would be the last you’d see of him, but from that day onwards, he always ordered food from your restaurant at the same time: 2:09pm. Why so specific? You weren’t sure, but that’s how it was, and you being the only delivery worker at your restaurant meant that it would always be you taking the food to him.

The second time you went, you were surprised to see a note waiting on the door for you.

Thank you for your cheerful message... I’ll do my best to work harder!

It made you smile and you decided to leave another note with his order, this time just asking him what his favourite side dishes were so you could tell the cooks to put more of those in next time. Instead of him leaving a note for you with the response, though, Hui decided to text you this time so he wouldn't have to wait for you to make another delivery before you could see his response.

Unknown: This is Hui! Ah, I ordered food from you at 2:09pm? I'm not really picky on side dishes, but one of my members likes kimchi, so could you make sure to leave more of that for me?

You: sure, of course! but how did you get my number?

Hardworking Hui: Ah, sorry! It was on the app since you're the delivery worker... for me to contact you in case you get lost? I'm sorry!

You: No, that's okay! i just wanted to be sure ^^

So after that day, you made sure Hui always got extra kimchi with his order. He would always greet you at the door of his studio, quickly asking about your day and how you were doing. Truthfully, he actually wanted to ask you to come inside so he could talk with you some more, because the two of you would always get an interesting conversation going before you declared you had to leave.

Since he was too shy to ask you in person, he texted you, instead.

Hardworking Hui: could you get the rest of the day off after delivering my order today?

You: why?

Hardworking Hui: so you can eat with me? if that's okay? or just take an hour off!

You: ...

You: Only if you pay for my food :P

Hardworking Hui: deal

So that day, you asked your manager for the hour off from 2:30pm to 3:30pm. She agreed, knowing that you always work hard and deserve a break.

Showing up to Hui's studio with his usual order and some food for yourself in your hands, you knocked a little nervously this time, knowing that this wouldn't just be a delivery, but a whole... hang out? Type of thing?

Hui had made sure to clean his studio to the best of his ability, making sure that there was another comfy chair for you to sit on and that the room didn't smell bad or anything. He lit a couple of candles and vacuumed the place so there would be no dust. When you knocked on the door, he jumped out of his seat with excitement, immediately opening it.

"Hi! Come in," he said, holding the door open so you could step inside. Seeing the cosy, dimly lit space left you in awe.

"It's so cool to see where you've been working away for all this time," you said, sitting down on a chair and putting the food down.

"Yeah... sometimes I get tired of it, but it's home," Hui said, sitting on his studio chair and opening up the food.

"Ah... where's the kimchi?" Hui asked, pointing at all the dishes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I told the cook to include my favourite side dish too, but he must have just replaced the kimchi with this instead, I'm so sorry!"

Hui laughed, shaking his head.

"It's completely fine!" he said, handing you your favourite side dish.

As the two of you began eating, you were able to get to know each other more as you spoke and asked each other questions. Even though it was a little silly asking for each other's favourite colours and seasons, it was a lot of fun, and the two of you turned out to have a lot in common.

Tears are erased by my emotions / Add, add colour to the world

After that day, you weren't just a delivery worker for Hui, and he wasn't just a customer to you. The two of you became close friends, attending the concerts of your favourite artists together. Hui would joke and say that he was attending for work reasons, trying to gain musical inspiration, while you had no real reason to be there. You'd slap his shoulder lightly, telling him to watch his words while he'd laugh at your reaction.

Even though his work was stressful at times, it was days like those that seemed to make him cry in reverse, if that was even possible? You showed up and turned his world around, adding colour onto his black and white canvas.

His members even told him that he seemed more cheerful and energetic despite still working hard in the studio, and Hui even told you that his songwriting process seemed to be running more smoothly.

"I'm so glad we became friends," he told you, leaning his head on your shoulder one day as the two of you sat on a park bench. You smiled, strongly agreeing with him in your own heart.

But do you remember when I mentioned Shine promotions at the beginning of this? Well, let's skip forward to that point.

By then, you had seen Hui and his group perform quite a few times, whether it was at concerts, music shows or even on the TV at your home. You were incredibly proud of him and wanted nothing but for him to succeed.

Every time Hui found you in the crowd at any of his live performances, he'd feel some kind of crazy adrenaline rush as all of his tiredness just seemed to magically disappear. He'd perform as if rent was due just because you gave him the energy to do so.

"Was [y/n] watching us again?" Hyunggu asked backstage after another performance for Shine ended safely.

"Yeah, I saw them there!" Hongseok confirmed.

"Plus, you can tell by the way Hui is acting," Yuto laughed, nodding towards Hui who was frantically texting you asking you if you'd left completely.

You told him you were still at the venue, and he begged you to come backstage. When you arrived, you greeted all of the Pentaboys, who adored you almost as much as Hui did, before joining Hui at his makeup table. You greeted the makeup artist too, out of respect, before asking Hui why he needed to see you so urgently.

"We might win today... I just wanted you to be by my side as good luck," he explained, a clearly worried expression on his face.

It was a shock to you that despite Shine doing so well on the charts, Pentagon still had not gotten their first win, but you knew they were an amazing group, regardless.

What you doing now? What's your plan now?

You placed your hand on top of Hui's, which rested on his own thigh.

"Hui, I know you haven't been getting all the wins you've been expecting, but we can't deny that this song is absolutely a bop and you have all been killing it!" you told him with a smile.

You couldn't tell whether or not your words had any sort of effect on him because he was looking down, but you hoped they at least didn't make him feel worse.

The rest of the Pentaboys cheered hearing your words though, feeling energized at your honest observation.

Hui was looking down because his stomach was tied in knots at the feeling of your hand on his. It was something he'd never felt before... butterflies? He tried to shrug it off but he couldn't stop wondering about your intentions... did you place your hand over his for a reason? What were you trying to tell him? What were you planning?

Inside my brain, after making a place for you / You make it impossible for me to sleep

That night, Hui still couldn't stop thinking about your simple gesture. You didn't mean anything by it, right? It was just a friend comforting a friend... the two of you had been friends for a while now, so why was he thinking into this so much?

As feelings of sleepiness took over, he drowsily wondered what it would be like to hold your hand rather than to just have his hand underneath yours. What would it be like to be held by you?

The next day, with more promotions ahead, you made sure to send Hui a text of good luck. You wouldn't be able to watch from the live audience that day, since you had work and deliveries to carry out, but you still wanted him to know that you were thinking of him.

Hui couldn't stop staring at your message of good luck for the whole day, pressing his finger on the heart emoji that you added at the end of your message.

"Hui hyung, are you reading something?" Wooseok asked the leader, sitting beside him on the sofa in the waiting room.

"Huh? N-no," Hui quickly said with a laugh, tucking his phone away.

"You've been staring at your phone all day... what is it, is it a fun webtoon?"

"No, no! Don't worry about it," Hui laughed, ruffling the tall boy's hair.

Wooseok whined, yelling about how the stylist just did his hair. Meanwhile, Hui's heart was racing. Why had he been staring at your text message all day?

You: I'm thinking of you today, Hui! Go get em, good luck <3

Are you thinking of me in this dawn? / I wish there was a continuous portal from my room to yours

Again, that night, Hui couldn't stop thinking about you. This time, it was about the message you'd sent him. He still had it open and was staring at it. He wondered if, when you said you were thinking of him, did that mean you were thinking of him right then and there too? At the same time when he was thinking about you?

Were your sleepless thoughts filled with him, just like his were filled with you-?

Ring ring. Ring ring.

Shit.

He'd been staring at your text and holding his phone so tightly that he accidentally pressed the call icon next to your name.

"Hello?" you answered sleepily. It was 3am and you had been asleep.

"H-hello? [y/n]?"

"Yes, Hui, what is it?"

"I uh..."

He desperately tried to think of an excuse for calling you, any reason-

"I wish there was a portal that went directly from my room to yours."

Really, Hui? Was that the best thing you could think of?

His heart raced and he smiled as he heard your laugh on the other end. He didn't realize he'd balled his other hand into a fist until your laughter made him calm down.

"What are you saying, Hui?"

"I miss you..." he mumbled.

Despite being sleepy, his words still made you nervous. Your heart raced and you wondered what he was trying to tell you.

"I m-miss you too," you croaked out.

"Really?" Hui asked you, sitting up in bed.

"Yeah, really," you said, laughing. It wasn't a lie, either. You'd been watching all of his performances on your phone that day while working, almost falling off your bike because you were that invested. In him.

"Do you wanna meet up now?"

"Now?" you spluttered.

"Yeah... by the Han River?"

You paused for a while before answering.

"Let's do it."

Even if I breathe in the cold air / It feels sweet, so sweet

"AHHH IT'S SO COOOOLD!" Hui yelled into the night air, rubbing his arms and running around in circles beside you.

"Here, take my coat," you said, but instead just wrapping your arms around him.

Hui tensed up, wondering if your arm that was wrapped around his chest could feel his heartbeat.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked.

"Providing you with warmth," you said.

You also felt butterflies stirring within you, realizing that maybe you saw Hui as more than just a friend. Yet you shrugged it off, telling yourself that Hui was an idol and you were just a delivery worker.

You can't know my pathetic feelings / Even if I've confessed a hundred times inside my brain / I'm invisible to you

Hui stayed quiet, closing his eyes tightly and enjoying the feeling of being in your arms on this cold night. He knew this embrace wouldn't last and that maybe it wouldn't happen again, because in his mind, he was invisible to you. Just a friend who you goofed around with, but all of your jokes made his heart rush.

The two of you ran around the grassy banks of Han River together, laughing into the night and chasing each other like kids. Each time Hui caught up to you, he'd wrap his small frame around you so tightly that it made you lose your breath. You told yourself it was just because you were running so hard, but it was definitely something else.

As the sun was beginning to rise and the two of you were finally in your homes, trying to get some sleep, Hui imagined what it would be like to confess to you. What if he confessed right there and then when you hugged him by the Han River? What if he told you how much he likes you and... what if you felt the same? What if you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him right there as the river reflected the starlight from the sky...? What if Hui would drop his phone in shock but would kiss you back more passionately?

No, Hui. No.

If I ever want you to feel the same / That must be greedy, that'd probably be a chance to peek into heaven / 'Cause you are angel

There was no way any of that would ever happen. There was no way you would ever like him back, at least for Hui. You were way too good for him, an angel on this planet full of demons and sinners.

Little did he know that you were also squinting at the sun, struggling to get some sleep as you thought of the way Hui would press his face into your chest every time he caught up to you at the Han River as you chased each other for fun. His bright smile and gentle laughter made your heart feel like the Han River itself, gently flowing along but filled with such a refreshing feeling.

After another week of intense Shine promotions, Hui feeling all sorts of emotions as Shine continued to soar while his feelings for you also grew, it became unbearable. The two of you would talk late into the night, whether it was sending texts because Hui was busy working or whether it was phone calls. Hui thought about you every second of every day and always missed you a ton.

Please know that I like you / I just want to be there for the rest of your life

Hui asked you to meet him in his studio one evening, as he knew your work schedule and knew that you were free. You agreed, slightly confused as to how he was making time to meet with you despite being so busy.

"Hui, I'm here!" you sang, opening the door to his studio and finding him sitting there in his chair, looking especially cute as his hair was slightly ruffled and he wore a big, comfy hoodie.

"[y/n], I have to tell you something," he said, with a slightly sad smile.

"Yeah, what is it?"

You grew worried, but decided not to make a fuss over anything just yet.

"So, for some time now.... well, of course we've been good friends, and I don't want this to ruin that if you don't feel the same..."

He sighed mid-sentence.

"Gosh, I don't know why I'm rambling," he said with a laugh.

You instinctively laughed along.

"Well, [y/n]. I like you... a lot. I know it's pathetic for me to feel this way when I don't even deserve you, but-"

"You like me?" you cut him off.

Hui nodded in response, looking slightly red now.

Nervous and absolutely bewildered, you starting laughing to yourself, making Hui worry if he'd said something wrong.

"Hui, I... I like you too, what the hell?! And here I was thinking I was pathetic!"

"You're not pathetic at all!" Hui said, grinning widely and bright red in the face upon hearing your answer to his confession.

Both of you nervously smiled at each other for some time before Hui broke the silence.

"I know... it may be hard to date me... well no, it will be hard to date me since I'm an idol, but I promise I'll give this my everything. It's a given, because of how much I like you and how lucky I am for you to even date me-"

"I never said I was dating you," you joked.

"What?" Hui asked in shock.

"I'm joking! Hui, it's okay. We'll get through these difficulties together, whatever they may be," you said, holding half of his face in your right hand, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Hui leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

"You're right," he said, before turning his face and pressing his lips to your hand.

54 notes · View notes

adorehs · 4 years

Text

changing your tune

Hi I just wanted to mention that a lot of this might be inaccurate. This is based off of my time in my city's youth orchestra so while I’m sure some things transfer, but not everything. Kinda bad at the end per usual <3

Summary: Classical Musician!Y/N has created a simple life for herself consisting of herself, her music, and the boy she loves. Friends to lovers. (15.6k words)

Warnings: mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut, minor character death.

“I just think I need to have a fuller tone to really get the dark undertone of the music. Like, it’s so clearly meant to be this dark, horrible travesty but if I can’t get the tone right then it’s just this light and airy travesty. But I can’t bend the note just right, my air is, like, gone,” you vent out.

Harry watches you intently from where he sat in your study with a hand holding his chin up and an elbow on his knee, “I think it sounds great.”

You look at him unimpressed, “It’s all chalumeau. Of course it sounds good, it just doesn't sound right.”

“Right, so it’s in the lower register,” he mentally reminds himself, “What’s it supposed to sound like?”

You let out a sigh and pick up your clarinet from the stand it rested on, “It sounds kind of different without my custom, but the r13 will work for now,” you mumble, adjusting the reed and ligature on your mouthpiece, a nervous tick you picked up in school.

Your eyes flicker up to Harry, waiting for his glance of approval before you start. Your cheeks expertly swell and decompress in size as you circular breathe through the measures, your mind concentrated on the smooth transitions between rhythms and the registers, cutting the triplets short as you’ve written them.

The soothing noise of your clarinet fills the large room immediately, your forte becoming all too loud to process any thoughts. The victorian-styled room had low hanging lights that streamed a warm orange tone over the patterned chairs and built-in bookcase that held hundreds of music books with etudes you’ve mastered since your youth.

Though the warm tones made the room feel homely, the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened ajar allowing a short breeze to flow in every two minutes. You knew better then to turn on a fan around your hand-crafted instrument. You understood the fluctuation it would cause if the temperature changed drastically day by day. This is why you were careful to turn the air conditioning off before you opened the window, keeping the temperature relatively steady through the day.

Harry watched you in pure concentration- he was truly enamoured by the way you lost yourself in music. He wanted to understand what you were saying but it was hard- he enjoyed music but was completely deaf when it came to describing the mood of a piece.

He worked with numbers, and loved it. A born accountant in your presence, watching you play your clarinet with what seems to be ease. But you seemed so distant from him. A whole world away. And how was he going to sweep you off your feet when he can hardly understand your career?

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as the technique became more difficult, effectively making you let off your clarinet and huff a breath of disapproval. Your heart was clearly pounding after the page you played at full tempo for effect, but you tried not to show the effect the music had on your body.

You reached for your pencil before erasing a note you had written and writing another one in, a higher register G#. The graphite smeared on the yellow-tinted manuscript book that sat on the music stand before you, everything shaking lightly as vigorously colored in the line and drew in a staccato articulation above the sixteenth note.

Forgetting Harry’s presence, you picked up your clarinet once again and played the same measure in sets of five, increasing the tempo by four beats each time, before deciding it is satisfactory for now.

Your face only showed a slight upturn, as you wrote in a new measure, testing how the chord would resolve with some soft air and incomplete vibrations through the wooden block. Minor chord or major? you asked yourself.

Harry’s eyes watched yours as they darted across the room from your clarinet, to your manuscript, to your metronome, which was silently flashing a red light at a tempo of 180 and a subdivision of eighth notes.

He wondered who taught you so harshly- he’d never seen someone so critical of their own work. You liked to make everything very perfect in a meticulous way- you knew just when to linger on the seventh of a chord to leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of one;s stomach and you were stellar when it came to expressing a story and emotion through your music. At least that’s what Harry thought.

“So where does your tone need to get fuller?” he asks again.

You looked up at him, slightly shocked. You had forgotten he was there, “When I get higher, like, near the F#. It has no depth to the note and it sounds like a playground piece,” you explain softly, watching as his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“So you want it to sound darker when the octave goes up?” he confirms one more time.

You nod, “Yeah. Want it to sound more emotional and thoughtful. It also makes me sound like a stylistically competent player,” your eyes flicker back to the page in an instant.

“I think your style is good. You have a good variety in the symphony, too. They’ll like this one. Get the solo down and then ask some people to come and play with you,” Harry comments, rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants as he sits back further in the chair. The heavy fabric makes a dissatisfying pulling noise as Harry moves around in the chair, resting his hands on the dark wooden arms with ornate carvings on the ends.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “They haven’t taken my last three. If I can just make one good one, I can take some more risks and possibly compose a whole symphony,” you pause, making eye contact with Harry again, “But that’ll take years. Probably only when I retire from the orchestra.”

“They are good,” Harry argues weakly. He doesn’t know how to convince you because all he knows is that he likes it.

“Well clearly they’re not as good as you and I think,” you counter with a huff, picking up your clarinet once more before playing the same piece from the beginning.

After an overextended work week, Harry was excited to go out and have some fun with his friends. He was still a ripe twenty-six year old, working long and hard hours as a starting budget analyst, hoping to be promoted higher within the job and lighten his workload- at least that's what everyone promised will happen. Nevertheless, he still enjoyed the simple pleasures of going out and celebrating his friends.

It was an all too familiar setting- a sticky, trashed bar with little to no care given to the seats that were falling apart at the seams. He found himself thinking of the frat parties you had described to him when he asked what Greek Life was.

But, he was there to celebrate one of his colleagues' birthdays. It was her twenty-fifth, so he found himself understanding the want for a big party. The bar might have been trashed but it was large and suitable for the hundreds of people she seemed to invite.

And among the hundreds, he only viewed one. You.

You wore a dress that you pulled from the back of your closet and hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in college. You wore it to special events and networking parties, but you found it all too nice to wear to most other situations you found yourself in.

Harry had definitely forgotten your connection to his colleague, or better known as your sister. He watched as you greeted her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, an awkward side hug was exchanged as everyone around you both cheered in excitement. You were pretty loved.

“Happy birthday Mon,” you repeat for the second time that day, “Hope the year treats you well.”

Your sister smiled in response, “Off to a great start,” she eyes the party reviving behind you, “I’m glad you could make it. Thought you’d have a performance tonight.”

You shook your head, “Nope. Requested this day off a year ago. Couldn’t miss my favorite day of the year!”

Your sister glances at you with a look of amusement, “Happy Monica day is your favorite of the year?”

“Yup, love happy Monica day,” you reiterate.

Monica opened her mouth to reply but was swiftly cut off by a deep British accent, “Happy birthday Mon!” you hear from behind you.

You turn around quickly, side stepping to allow Harry into your conversation. He leans into your sister before granting her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “How are you?” he asks, replacing your spot in front of her.

You smile at Monica and halfheartedly wave a goodbye as you slowly make your way over to the bar to order some food. You decided a year ago that you were going to stop drinking. At first, it was a hard choice to make. You were used to having a drink in most social situations, especially being a young adult working with people of all ages. It was a common scene to find you in- an after party with hundreds of musicians having a glass of champagne or white wine in celebration.

You sat yourself on a deep crimson stool, swirling slightly as you waited for your sliders to be given to you. Watching as people met and reconnected was isolating for you. You knew very few people Monica worked with and found yourself just shy of saying hi to someone who looked friendly every time you were at a gathering such as this one.

Nodding a silent thank you as your sliders were placed in front of you, your attention shifts. It was the loud talking and blaring music that made your brain want to go into overdrive, never quite getting used to noises you couldn’t control.

“Hi, Y/N,” you feel a body slide into the seat beside you. You couldn’t exactly pin whose voice it was at first listen so you shift your body towards them and slide the plate between you two as a peace offering.

“Hey,” you reply, making eye contact with one of Monica’s friends you met when she first started working at the firm.

“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’m alright, Louis. And yourself?”

“I’m quite alright. Been working a lot. Itching to get promoted,” he lets out a small laugh, “But who isn’t.”

You shoot him a grin, “Not sure, I love my job.”

“When’re you playing next? Love to come see you play. Haven't been to the new show yet,” he leans in towards you and takes a slider before leaning back again.

“Play Thursday to Sunday every week until November. Then we switch to Christmas ballets,” you tell him with a grin, “I recommend Thursday or Sunday, though. Best prices and best crowd.”

He nods in confirmation, “I’ll have to take Harry with me, know he’s been bugging me to go with him for a while.”

“Yeah, bring him! It’ll be fun, we can all go out after too!” you counter, dismissing Louis' comment about Harry’s insistent nature. That was just him, you thought.

“Definitely,” he agrees, “Plus it’s a nice way to unwind. I’ll definitely see if I can come soon.”

“Oh, please! I love seeing a familiar face. Feel like I play better,” you laugh, “Still get nervous, but Harry always tells me I’ll do amazing.”

“Harry’s good at that,” Louis agrees, “Always makes sure you don’t undersell yourself. And he’s right! You’re amazing.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, “Thank you! He’s definitely everyone's biggest cheerleader,” you joke. Turning around entirely in your stool, your eyes sift quickly through the crowd in search of Harry. “See, there he is,” you chortle, “Hyping up Niall as he chugs a,” you squint.

“A beer, probably,” Louis completes for you.

You both laugh and watch as Niall shoots up from his spot on the ground in victory before immediately falling back onto the ground with great dramatics. The room roars as Harry helps his friend stand back up and walks him over to the bathroom before swinging the door back open, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pauses for effect, “The boy lives!”

The room once again falls into a unison form of laughter as Niall appears behind Harry moments later, “Where’s the beer?” he shouts over the laughs, which quickly turn into cheers at his sportsmanship.

While Louis lets out a loud laugh at his friend's antics and moves towards the crowd to see more clearly, you looked up towards Harry. He dressed himself impressively well considering his lack of knowledge in the arts. Though he wore a simple outfit consisting of a red button up and black jeans, his confidence soared higher than anyone else’s you’d seen in a while.

His smile was infectious and seemed to fill his whole face and as his eyes raised to meet yours it grew to a tenfold. Speaking with his body language, you somehow sensed that he wanted you to get up and join him.

You shook your head with a smile and mouthed ‘I’m fine here!’ only to receive a ‘What!?’ in response. You shook your head in defeat and stood up, mouthing the same phrase only slower.

Harry replied with a look of realization and instantaneously, a pout replaced his smile. You frowned at your effect on him, not wanting him to feel upset because of you of all people.

You stood up and slowly started making your way over to him, allowing the smile to rediscover its place on his lips. He was watching you near him, when his head suddenly snapped towards a high pitched scream coming from your sister, “It’s midnight!” she shouts.

Harry chuckles at her dramatics and smiles when he feels your body press up against his side. He didn’t have to look to know it was you, he could smell your distinct perfume as you neared him and he was happy knowing you found comfort around him- though that should’ve been clear from the nights upon nights you spend together, him listening to your music and you listening to his rants.

Monica was handed a bottle of champagne and she stepped into the middle of the corner you all occupied, people filing in suit around her and forming a circular crowd.

“Hey everyone! Uh- thank you so much for coming- I mean it. It means a lot to me to be surrounded by a bunch of people I love on my favorite day of the year!” She jokes, earning some light laughs and a few words of endearment thrown back at her. “No, seriously, thanks a lot, and,” she trails off, her thoughts too blurry for her planned speech, “Here’s to twenty five!” she cheers, shaking the champagne bottle, allowing it to pop and spray all over. She quickly spins in an attempt to spray everyone, but the champagne bubbles over and only gets half the group.

You and Harry both laugh, shaking your hands to get the sticky substance off your bodies. “She tries every year and never succeeds,” you tell him.

He chuckles in response, “She gets too drunk to remember.”

“Or she just thinks that she’s sober enough to get it this year,” you laugh back.

Harry laughs and nods, “Definitely. She thinks she’s perfectly fine,” he points at Monica who is going around the circle and hugging everyone in thanks. “To be fair she looks okay,” he adds.

“She always does,” you agree with Harry.

The two of you fall silent and you stand back watching your sister make rounds. Harry’s hand creeps onto your back as he steps closer to you, bringing you in front of him. He hums along to the song you couldn’t remember the name of that was blaring on the speakers and he basks in the glory of being in your presence.

Soon enough, your sister had made her way over to the two of you, hugging you both and exchanging her thanks for coming and just as quick as she came, she left you two alone.

“So, uh,” Harry starts.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna leave. Got an early start tomorrow,” you tell Harry, pointing at the door.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. Yeah, you should go,” he stammers.

You smile at him, “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later?” you asked, stepping towards Monica to say a final happy birthday and goodnight.

“Yeah, definitely,” he nods in confirmation.

You wave before finding your sister and saying goodnight, then driving yourself back home.

Harry was sitting in bed with his laptop on his lap and a blanket covering his legs. He was doing some research in an attempt to find books that could teach him about music theory.

He told himself he wanted to be more involved in his friends' lives and further his education in one of his weakest subjects- music. But in reality, it was clear to those around him that he wanted to impress you and be more involved in your life and yours only. They had never seen him pick up a book on physical therapy or take a quick online course on python- he was doing it all purely for you.

He was contemplating if he should invest in a book or just take a free online course, both seemed like viable options but he wanted to optimize his time. He wanted to make it click faster.

He decided he’d try the online course and take his chances and if he still didn’t understand he would invest in a book.

So there he was on a Tuesday evening sitting in bed with his headphones in learning how basic chords were made. He wrote notes as if he was still in school and studied them after each lesson. He wasn’t fully immersed in the world like you were, but he felt as though he could carry a bit more of a conversation with you about music, especially when compared to before.

Harry was learning slowly but surely and in about a week he could, in theory, explain how to develop a minor chord from it’s major among various other basics (that you would probably think were common knowledge) but he had no recollection of learning.

As per usual, he spent every Monday and Wednesday evening with you. On Mondays, you would have movie night and on Wednesdays, he would get some work done in your office while you played. It never truly distracted him, either. Honestly, it made him feel very peaceful and he found that the routine was more about being in the presence of each other rather than making memories.

One Wednesday, he had completed his work early and as usual, he would sit and see what you had composed to help give his limited input on your compositions.

Typically, he would sit and listen silently with a slight tilt to his head while he thought up a thoughtful comment about your playing. You would always sit there anxiously, with your posture beginning to slouch since you were not playing anymore, waiting for a comment that you both knew would be neither helpful or negative.

Harry was good at that. He was good at making you feel like you were doing good with absolute sincerity and not a single waiver of his voice. His face would stay straight and he would find the good in it all. It was probably your favorite part of the man who sat with you on the particular day.

This time, unlike the last, your window was shut tight and you were trying your hardest to keep your hands steady. You couldn’t make the piece sound right. It sounded okay but that would not get you signed. It needed to be calculated and perfect in a theoretical standpoint. It also needed to be simple enough to split into parts for larger groups but difficult enough to have solo excerpts from each instrument- in case a full orchestra didn’t work.

And that was difficult to accomplish.

Harry knew that and he agreed- how could one person who hadn’t ever been signed make such an elaborate piece? He thought it was absolutely absurd that to maximize your chances you had to make the piece a combination of just about everything.

You sat with the same face as you usually did, one pleading for some sort of advice or criticism. What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to deliver.

“Think if you made it a minor chord instead of a major and ended on the seventh it could bring some edge,” Harry eventually says.

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion, “Yeah, uh, let me try that,” you stammered.

You covered what you had written with a sticky note, drawing on the new scale. You showed Harry the note and asked him if that was what he was thinking, to which he replied yes. You nod lightly and play the piece once again from the beginning, swaying slightly as you approached lyrical bits and narrowed your air stream to control your volume.

Harry nods along with your playing, pausing slightly in places he could tell you didn’t like much. Eventually, he watches as you play what he had suggested, anxiety rising up his throat in fear of not being accepted.

“Think I like it. But I need to fix some of the other stuff too,” you told him once you finished. “It would definitely feel right that way.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He rounded the long desk and joined you where you sat by the window in an uncomfortable chair made to help keep your posture near perfect. He crouched down so he could be eye level with your music and furrowed his brows.

You watched as he read the notes carefully, taking his time as he took in each technically challenging measure and the lyrically soft measures in contrast. You grew anxious for his approval so you busied yourself by taking the sticky note off of the manuscript and erasing and redrawing the notes for the new scale Harry advised you to add.

You took your time, slowly coloring each eighth note, the graphite crumbling down the page, leaving a light smear as you wiped it away with the side of your hand.

Harry looked up at you, “I think you should change this,” he points, “Make it flat and get rid of this note entirely,” he spoke slowly. You watch as his finger indicates each note and you nod along softly.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you agree.

He nods in response and rests his hand on your thigh, you hardly notice the action that felt natural in the moment.

You temporarily wrote in each suggestion and played the piece again from the beginning, a process the two of you were becoming increasingly annoyed with. As you approached the measure he had pointed out, your mind wondered: how did he know all this and why didn’t he mention any of it before?

Your air slowed down as your mind wandered and your fingers followed closely after, a ritardando, Harry noted. He hadn’t mentioned tempo but he found that bringing the piece down to cut time brought a new feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Abruptly, you stopped, and Harry knew you didn’t realize. You both sat in silence for a moment before Harry stood up and moved back over to where he was sitting previously. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head out. Good luck Y/N,” he rushed out.

You shook your head in disbelief. You truly didn’t understand what just happened. But, you shook it off and tried again, keeping the ritardando.

Harry on the other hand, was in a state of panic. He had realized what he had done and he thought she did too, resulting in her abrupt stopping point.

Harry had begun to understand that he was in love with you. And he didn’t know until just then. But he had done everything just for you.

The following Sunday Harry finally managed to drag Louis out of his city apartment and downtown to the Meyerson Symphony Center where you were to perform Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Neither Harry or Louis have seen you perform this particular show so they were late to learn that you had auditioned for and successfully got the clarinet solo in a particular piece from the Symphony named Scherzo.

You had explained to Harry your appeal to this particular symphony- you found it to be unique of all the others that accompanied Shakespeare's work. Instead of relaying a difficult emotion or putting a satirical spin on a human issue like his other works did, you found Midsummer to be a pure romp into romance and the abnormalities of love.

And though you hadn’t been in love for a while, you found yourself feeling the emotion wholly through both the piece and music in it of itself.

Harry had read midsummer before- in fact he had seen it live with his mum and sister when he was younger, but he never understood the effect the music had on the play. He never looked into the contextualization of the play, let alone the deeper aspirations of it.

He understood music theory but he still had trouble analyzing music itself. He couldn’t pinpoint moods by just listening- he needed to see it written out which he believed hindered his ability to enjoy music to its fullest extent.

Needless to say, Harry entered the theater with Louis with a thought of determination. All he wanted was to find a way to understand the music and appreciate it as you did. They were both clad in matching suits, a simple black and white for the symphony, and made their way to the middle where their tickets directed them. Harry sat in the aisle and Louis sat right next to him, whispering in excitement of the show.

“I fucking love this story,” Louis says.

Harry lets out a quiet laugh, “I hardly remember it.”

Louis joins Harry in laughter and shrugs, “Oh well, it’ll still be good.”

Harry nods in agreement and turns away from Louis as the curtains open and the lights dim.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen you on this stage, but he found himself mesmerized as he found you with his eyes. He watched as you scanned the crowd quickly, your eyes jumping past him and Louis a few times before you recognized your friends. You shot them each a relieved smile and sat up straighter in your chair.

The conductor cast a smile at everyone before beginning the first piece, the Overture making its debut in the room. Just as Harry was used to, the melodic sounds filled the room to the brim, every last corner feeling the pure emotion that was put into the piece.

Harry couldn’t describe the feeling but he knew he was proud. He understood that watching you in your element is probably the worst thing he could do for himself, but he had to. It was pure torture to watch you fall in love with something that wasn’t him, but he loved the way it happened.

You lost yourself so easily and he felt as though you were the loudest in the room. He could hear your sound over everyone else's, your instrument being isolated from all the others in his mind. Harry could swear he had never been so proud in his life to see someone do what they love.

As the overture came to a close, his hands met in applause and he felt the need to stand up just so you would know how much he loved it. But as quickly as he started, he stopped his applause and the next piece was beginning.

No. 1 Scherzo. It was the second piece on the track and your personal favorite for reasons you would not disclose to Harry. He had heard you practice it a few times before, nodding along as he recognized fragments of the piece.

It was around three minutes into the piece when Harry learned why it was your favorite. Because it was just you. You were the only one playing- your solo bringing tears to his eyes. It was just that moment when you looked up and made eye contact with Harry, him nodding with a large grin on his face with reassurance, you’re doing amazing, it read.

When you looked back up at your music, your eyes narrowing in concentration, you failed to notice the look on Harry’s face. His phone had buzzed and he found himself confused- he was sure he put it on silent. The feeling that was elicited was nothing but good, so he decided to go check just for some peace of mind.

He stood up, pointing at his phone when Louis questioned him silently, gaining a nod of approval as Harry exited the theater in a rush.

The second he exited the room that was beginning to become overly stuffy and constricting, he took a deep breath and told himself you’re probably just overreacting.

Harry was anywhere from overreacting. It was that exact moment that he had received a text that was pushed through do not disturb. The text was from his mum and read nothing but horrible news. The five words that found themselves on his screen that illuminated his face as he stood right next to the door called him a coward. They read: This contact has dialed 999.

Harry understood the severity of the situation but he didn’t know what to do. All he knew is that she called- he didn’t know why or where she was. He didn’t know if he had to book a flight back home or not.

Just as Harry was getting up and leaving for his own agenda, you had finished your solo. You looked up once again, hearing the applause and searching for Harry once more. But this time, you found Louis sat alone with a large grin creeping across his face and his applause filling the space next to him.

You had never felt as hurt as you did in that moment. He had left you. Harry, the man you now realized you love, found something more important than you and your aspirations, and there was no physical way that it wouldn’t sting. What you didn’t know was that as your heart was breaking, Harry’s mum’s was.

It had taken two hours for someone to answer the phone. Two hours for Harry to spend most of his savings on a red eye to the London airport. Ten hours for him to touch down in London. Three to make his way to the hospital next to his childhood home.

He was distraught to say the least.

He had left without mention of what was happening, his phone exploding with texts from Louis and Monica making sure he was okay, but not a word from you. He felt betrayed, but he understood. You had things going on too and he wasn’t the center of your universe.

The hospital looked sterile, not a single thing out of place. The walls were coated in a pristine white color that nearly blinded Harry’s bloodshot eyes, and he spent a few minutes catching his breath before he asked where his dad was.

He walked sluggishly onto the elevator, the weight of reality crushing him as he waited for what seemed like ages but really was hardly forty seconds for the elevator to jolt to a stop. When it stepped off, he saw what he imagined to be organized chaos.

People were walking quickly up and down the lengths of the corridor and he found himself passing by far too many crying people to think anything good could ever happen in a hospital- not revival nor birth.

He walked the length of the corridor in silence, taking in his surroundings. He was in shock- he could hardly even process that he was in England, let alone why he was there. It was only when he stopped shortly at the sight of his mum and sister sleeping, their heads resting on each other's, that he realized the severity of what was happening.

And so, with a deep breath, he sat down on the floor before them, resting his back lightly against the leg chairs and he rested his forehead on his knees. It didn’t seem like his life that he was living- he felt like this was all a vivid dream, but it wasn’t. It was less than twenty four hours ago that he was with Louis watching your performance and now he sat with his family outside of his father's hospital room praying he would be okay.

Harry was one of hopeful thinking and that was made apparent when a doctor exited his father's room with a stack of papers.

Harry was the first to stand, followed by his mother and sister, who were unsure of when he had arrived. He shook hands with the doctor, who he learned was named doctor Wilson. He was clad in the same scrubs as every other doctor but Harry found his to be a special type of unattractive- or maybe that was his subconscious distracting himself from the situation at hand.

Doctor Wilson cleared his throat as Anne made her way next to Harry, Gemma shielding herself from the news from behind him, “So,” he cleared his throat “Mr. Styles came in about a year ago to have his lungs screened, as you may know, and he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer,” he nodded.

“Well, Mr. Styles seems to have,” he left a pregnant pause in his sentence, “He seems to have the cancer cells spreading rapidly. We would like to put him on a self contained respirator and monitor him closely to give you some more accurate information about his cancer and give you some answers within a few hours,” he says slowly.

Harry shook his head in disbelief- his father had never mentioned cancer let alone a screening.

“Thank you doctor,” he heard Anne speak from behind him. He sent a last glance at the broken family and moved back into the room.

It was the first you had heard from him in about half a week. He had called you on Wednesday after not answering your messages asking if he will make his way over on Monday for your movie night.

“Hi,” you answer softly.

“Hey- uh,” you heard some shuffling, “Hey.”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion, “Are you coming over?”

There was a long pause on Harry’s end and you just about opened your mouth to confirm that he could hear you when he replied, “No,” he said shortly. “I- uh- I’m at home.”

“Do you want me to come over?” you asked in confusion.

“No, like, I’m in the UK,” he quickly corrected you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, leaving a pregnant pause on your end, “Oh,” you replied.

“Yeah, I-” you could hear a few other voices in the background and you imagined they were his mum and sister, “My dad- he’s not doing so good. He has stage four lung cancer.”

“Oh,” you let out again. “I- uh- sorry, I really just don’t know what to say right now.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle, which you could tell had bitter undertones, “That’s alright… don’t exactly know what to say myself.”

“I- uh- I’m really sorry,” you tell him sincerely, “God I feel like such an ass,” you expressed.

Harry’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked up at his mum to ensure she wasn’t listening, “No need, I promise it’s fine you don’t have to say anything.”

“I just- I was so mad at you for leaving and not saying anything and ignoring me. Thought I did something wrong or you were mad at me,” you explain. “Didn’t know what was going on and I was scared that I lost you.”

“Couldn’t lose me if you tried,” Harry laughed softly, you joining his laughter momentarily.

“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you I was going?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

“No- not at all. Was mainly just worried,” you reassure him, “I totally understand,” but you didn’t. How could he not tell you? Did he not think you deserved to know why he left when you were playing for him?

“I’m really sorry. Kinda just fell off the face of the Earth for a few days. Was anticipating the news and trying to stay strong for my mum and Gemma,” he explains.

Before you could reply, Harry starts again, “Hey, uh, we’re going back to the hospital so I’ll talk to you later, alright?” he says quickly before hanging up and leaving you alone in your study, clarinet in front of you.

You truly didn’t know how to cope with what just happened- it felt like heartbreak on two spectrums- family and lover. But he was neither, which hurt even more.

You picked up the piece of handcrafted wood that sat in front of you and tried your hardest to pour your heartbreak into the piece- adding pain, edge, and suffering to the nearly- done piece in an attempt to exert your feelings into something productive.

It worked like a charm, which was something you felt bad mentioning. You found yourself falling in love with the piece, fractures of your heart making up every line and the composition falling right into place as your muse fell right apart across the world.

It was the next morning when you received the message from Harry: He’s gone. In his sleep. I’ll be home in a week. Gotta sort some things out. -H

Harry arrived home that following Tuesday and he was exhausted but grateful to be back to his tiny townhouse in the middle of a city with his friends surrounding him.

He felt as though coping wasn’t an option anymore- he had taken up a whole week for that and in this moment in time he felt as though he had already done enough coping.

There was a memorial service the weekend after his father died and to say Harry’s family were crushed would be an understatement.

Anne, Gemma, and Harry each had prepared a speech for the service and none of them felt as though they could do the senior Styles any justice. He was a good man and they couldn’t even begin to explain that to everyone there. Nobody could understand the pain in the same way as they did, so they did their best to remember him in the best light.

Harry was mainly happy for one thing- the following day was Wednesday. He had taken off the rest of the week so he could recover from any jet lag and start the new week back with a fresh start, so he knew that tomorrow would be a great day to catch up. With work and with you.

He hadn’t seen a single person since he was back but upholding the tradition was important to him. He favored you over most all his friends anyway, so when he parked his old car in the driveway of the large house you inherited from your grandparents, he was excited.

He knocked twice and rang your doorbell once,queuing you to open the door in shock less than a minute after. “What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling Harry into a long hug. You had missed him on his ten days of abstinence from you.

“Got back yesterday, can’t skip out on tradition,” he shoots you a smile, letting go of your warm embrace. You took a moment to look at him before deciding he wanted a distraction from everything going on in his life.

You open the door further, beckoning him to come in, “Well come on, I need your opinion on my piece,” you gesture towards your office dramatically.

Harry chuckles and bows in thanks, “After you,” he says with a posh accent.

You both laugh, heading inside to where your things were set up and ready to go. He sat down in the same chair as he always does and you round the desk to sit where your clarinet was standing and your manuscript laid.

“Okay, so I added, kind of a lot, while you were gone,” you warm him.

He nodded and gestured for you to play, “Well go on then. Show me what you added,” he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.

You glanced at Harry and your music a few times each in an attempt to correlate the two in your mind- this was your Harry and he would never hurt you. You began to play the piece that you had become sickly familiar with but Harry found himself utterly perplexed at the sound of a new beginning. You had nearly changed the entire beginning and Harry loved it.

He found it to be oddly comforting to listen to you for what felt like the first time ever but in reality it was just another sense of stability in the world you two had created- the world that was exclusively Harry and Y/N.

The moment you reached the end, a bit he had helped you with, you found yourself stumbling over your composition, making Harry's brow furrow together. You were a perfectionist when it came to music- you loved the control that came with being able to play flawlessly and change how it all came together and he found it odd that you of all people were messing up something you had written in for weeks.

“Sorry,” you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair, “I’m really stressed and it’s really making this all worse.”

Harry nodded in understanding, “You should take a break,” he tells you with full seriousness.

You look at him with a blank face for a moment before bursting out into laughter, “You can’t be serious.”

Harry looked at you confused, “I’m serious.”

“Harry this is my job. This is equivalent to me getting a promotion. I can’t stop!” you explain harshly.

Harry nodded, “I understand. Just-” he paused, “Just come with me, okay?”

“No, Harry, I can't, I have to do this,” you stood your ground.

“Y/N,” he spoke firmly, “If you hate this and want to kick me out for a week and let you compose on your own after this, you can. Just come.”

You let out a sigh and deliberated your options, “Fine. But there is a high chance you’re not showing up at my door for a week,” you point an accusatory finger at Harry.

He raises his hands in defense, “Okay, noted. Let’s go slowpoke,” he teased.

You flashed him your middle finger and a toothy grin before packing up your clarinet and setting it on your desk. You follow Harry out to his car and get in the passenger seat as he starts the car and makes his way out of your neighborhood.

“Can I ask where we are going?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Harry replied, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

“You’re so annoying,” you reply.

“You love me,” he states smugly, making your eyes grow the size of saucers.

“Not right now I don’t” you tease once you recover from your previous state of shock.

Harry shakes his head and says, “Home Depot. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

You wondered why he could be taking you to Home Depot of all places- not getting food or going shopping to find another piece of clothing you don’t need.

Harry parked easily before exiting the car, you follow after him in a haste. You have to job to catch up with Harry who seems to be walking a mile a minute to get into the building, “What the fuck are we doing here?” you ask again.

“We,” Harry says, pointing at the two of you, “Are going to paint that white wall in your office,” he says with a smile.

Your face mirrors his, a grin of your own making its way across your face. You had mentioned to Harry months ago that you were itching to paint the room but you never made the time for yourself to do that.

This time, it was you who took the lead, teasing Harry for taking too long to make his way into the store. You find your way to the back of the store where you see a few employees mixing paint for customers and you find your way to the pantone swatches, Harry immediately picking up a brown one, “I think it’ll match the wood, no?”

You laugh and shake your head, “No I want it to be your hair color.”

Harry’s mouth opens in realization before grabbing another strip. He squints, reading the name aloud, “Werge,” he says confused.

You fall into a fit of laughter before moving down the wall to look at the blues, the color you were actually hoping to get.

With Harry’s unwillingness to be serious and your contagious laughs, it took you forty five minutes to find the color you had seen online a few months ago and had screenshotted on your phone.

You make your way over to an employee and ask for a gallon of the deep navy color, paying and making your way back into Harry’s car within a few minutes.

Your knee was bouncing in anticipation on your way home and you didn’t realize until Harry rested his palm on it, asking you, “What’s got you so nervous?” to which you reply:

“Not nervous, just excited.”

Harry chuckled and kept his hand there for the rest of the ride to your house, which you found to be far too close then you wanted it to be.

You both found yourselves in your garage loading your arms with painters tape and tarp to ensure your room is painted to perfection and not too messy afterwards.

You spilled some paint into the tray and used a roller to begin putting the fresh paint on the middle of the wall. Harry gasps when he sees the color in contrast with the wood that covered every other wall in the room, “It matches so well,” he comments, using a smaller brush to begin on the bottom strip of the wall where the painters tape stuck.

He sat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him, and you stood a few feet to his left, the paint sitting between the two of you.

You nod, “I know, it compliments the wood really well.”

Harry shakes his head, “Not the wood. I meant it matches my eyes,” he draws out.

You roll your eyes and let out a shut up before looking at him.

“Seriously,” he persists, setting his head next to the gallon that sat on the floor.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, dipping your roller back onto the tray, allowing the residue to fall off before you rolled a bit on his face and shirt.

“What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up immediately.

“I had to check!” you exclaim innocently. “You know, now that I look, I think you’re right. It does match, we should use more,” you conclude.

“Now that I look,” Harry starts, with an evil glint in his eye, “I think this is the color your shirt is missing,” he concludes, flinging his brush in your direction allowing the paint to fall on your face and shirt.

“Oh my god!” you shout as Harry doubles over in laughter.

You bring your brush into the paint once more, taking a threatening step towards Harry. He flinches, making you chuckle and redirect the paint onto the wall again, making him breathe a sigh of relief.

He begins again on the bottom edge and before you could think you're safe, Harry gets paint on your ankle from where he sat on the floor.

You let out a loud gasp, “This is war!” you exclaim.

“Or you can just admit that you needed a break,” Harry shrugs, “It’s quite simple.”

You narrow your eyes and look at him, “I am going to cover you in paint. It’s quite simple,” you mock him childishly.

He shakes his head with a laugh before painting the rest of your ankle, making a ring around your foot.

It had taken two hours to complete painting the wall and to complete your paint war. You and Harry found yourselves in your backyard while your sprinklers were spraying the grass.

“Best way to clean,” Harry breathed out.

“You say you’re one with nature but what are you going to say when my grass is blue?” you ask him as you scrub at your legs to get off the paint.

“I’ll say part of me is really with nature this time,” he says shaking the water out of his hair as he walks towards the hose that was attached to the side of your house.

You shake your head in disbelief, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say, looking at Harry as he walks towards you with the hose gushing water out.

You step towards him and let him spray you down and you watch as the paint falls off your skin and into the grass, your shirt clinging to your body.

Harry tries to keep his attention on your face and not on the black bra that begins to show from your wet shirt that stuck to your body like a second skin.

You fiddled with the fit of your shirt, trying to make sure you were comfortable, before scrubbing your arms and legs clean.

Harry and you had decided after the first hit that you would do your best to avoid each other's faces just to make everything easier when it came to cleaning.

You rinse your hair fully before deciding you're as clean as you’d get without using a proper shower (which you didn’t want to turn blue from the paint), so you stepped towards Harry with your arm extended towards him.

“My turn,” Harry says softly, handing you the hose before spreading his arms out and letting the water hit his entire body, “This feels nice,” he comments.

“You’re crazy,” you reply. Harry shakes his head and takes his shirt off in an attempt to get everything off and you almost look away instinctively- you weren’t supposed to see your friend like this.

He allows the pressure of the hose to get most of the paint off his body but he seems a bit carefree about the cleanliness of his body at this point- you’re assuming this is the distraction you both needed from your mundane lives.

Harry finishes off with the hose and you run inside to grab the two of you towels, opting to stay outside for the rest of the night.

You both sit outside on the back porch swing that sat in your yard, wrapped in towels so you don’t get too cold in the autumn air. “You were right,” you mutter, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“About?” Harry edges you on and you can practically hear him smiling through his words.

“I needed a break.”

What felt like a year was only two months and in those two months you had accomplished what you had been attempting since eighteen. You finished what seemed to be the perfect piece from a technical standpoint.

It told a story of betrayal and heartbreak and it included a plethora of twists in tone and changes in tempo and unresolved keys to add edge and lead the listener on. The piece, in theory, was among the most perfect ones written.

At least that's what Harry told you and that's what you tried to tell yourself.

You had just finished the process of getting it all recorded, recruiting some of your friends from the orchestra to take home your manuscript that you wrote in harmonies and new melodies to.

You spent a week editing the music together, sending recordings back, asking for retakes, and adjusting volumes, tempos, and tone before you were satisfied with the music.

All in all, it was a musically complex and fundamentally difficult piece that could be extended into a show or turned into a series of simpler solos- whatever would get your music sold to a publisher, you were willing to do.

You had contacts from your previous attempts at selling your compositions, contacts that rejected you but told you to come back if you had something new. You did not take the suggestion lightly.

You had mastered an email with your pitch- stating your name and your credentials, attaching a file of the piece, along with the score which separated individual parts and showed their dynamic together. It was your life's work and a story you were excited to sell, and that is why you were particularly excited when you received an email back the following week.

The email, in short, explained that a publisher would like to meet with you and is interested in helping you publish the music and help you get on the radar of a symphonic orchestra.

You were a giddy mess leading up to your meeting, your leg shaking in anticipation and your heart beating so loud you swear you could feel it in your throat. So, when it arrived it felt surreal.

You stepped into the tall building in a haze, your hands clutching onto your score and your body clad in your favorite orchestral dress that you find to be the one you wear to the majority of your auditions. You call it your good luck charm.

The receptionist was short and directed you to the fifth floor and gave you strict instructions to wait to be called in by Flynn Bradford’s assistant. You sat in the waiting room with a warm overcoat covering your body in the meantime.

When you got called up your hands began to sweat. You find your way into Bradford’s office and with a nervous step forward, you take your jacket off and sit down on the small chair before his desk.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself with a handshake, Bradford immediately recognizing your name.

“Flynn Bradford, a pleasure,” he returns with a friendly smile.

He was a middle aged man with a few silver hairs peeking through, but he wore a friendly smile and seemed very composed nonetheless. He took your score and opened it immediately. He looked over it in silence for a few moments, you sitting on the edge of your seat.

“I do have to say, Ms. Y/L/N, I was waiting to meet you so I could go over this with you. I think you’re a brilliant composer,” he speaks slowly.

You swallow harshly, “Thank you so much,” you gush, “I’ve been at it since I was a kid so I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods again, sifting through the pages, “And I have to say I’m impressed by the tone in the demo and the overall markup of the piece. I think there are a few minor changes that we’d like to see done but all in all I think it’s good.”

You nod your head quickly, “Of course and I was expecting to do so. I- uh- how many changes are we thinking about here?”

“Well it’s still your piece, so quite minor ones just to increase your chances of having it sold to a school or a symphony. Or, you could keep it how it is but that might not be the easiest to sell.”

“Right, so hypothetically, if I get all the changes done and we’re satisfied within a few weeks, it can go off to you?” you ask in shock.

“It seems to be that way, yes. I’ll send you a contract and some markups once I get to talk with my team about this. It would be best to get your own lawyer to look over this for copyright purposes and to make sure you’re alright with all the fine print,” he advises.

“Yes, I will definitely do that, yeah. Thank you so much,” you reiterate.

He hums a reply and hands you back your score with a tight lipped smile, “So this meeting was a bit quicker and the other might be too depending on what you like and want. Remember all the corrections we send are suggestions so you do what you want and we’ll be alright with whatever you choose to do,” he reminds you.

You nod and shake his hand once more, leaving the building with bright eyes and a winning score in your hands.

The first instinct you had as you sat back into your car was to call Harry but you were so overwhelmed with excitement you decided that going to see him at his house would be a better idea.

After all, he deserved to be the first person to know because he helped you so much when it came to the composition of this piece.

You were smiling incredibly wide as you made your way over to his townhouse in the city. His complex was very modern, a clear juxtaposition to your victorian styled home, but you welcomed it warmly. You enjoyed the prospect of having a place to go that is more minimal in comparison to your cluttered property.

It was hardly fifteen minutes before you parked outside of his home, your car finding its normal spot in the driveway of his garage.

Your legs carried you faster than you could have imagined, rushing you to the front of his house and your hand pounded against his door with a sense of urgency.

Harry took his time making his way downstairs, a towel around his waist and an impatient girl he had hardly met waited in his bed upstairs.

He opened his door slightly, allowing his head to peek out of the small crack he created, “Hey!” he exclaimed when he realized it was you.

“Hi! Can I come in?” you ask excitedly.

“I’m not exactly decent,” his hand scratches the back of his neck, “Can you wait down here as I get some clothes on?”

“Sure, take your time,” you nod in understanding, allowing Harry to make his way back upstairs.

“Who’s at the door?” the girl asks from her spot on his bed as Harry changes quickly into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

“Just a friend, she should be gone soon,” he replies.

“You sure? She seemed really excited to see you.”

Harry lets out a sigh, “Logan, I promise she's just a friend. And what does it matter anyway?”

“Well I don't want to be the other woman,” she pouts, “But if you say she’s just a friend then I believe you.”

“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder briefly as he made his way back downstairs to where you were waiting on his sofa.

“So whats up?” he asks, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m alright. I have some news, though,” you say, enthusiasm raising once again.

“Okay, lay it on me,” Harry joins you on the sofa.

“So I met with Flynn Bradford today,” you lead on, hoping Harry could understand what the news was.

“No way,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “He picked you up? That’s amazing holy shit! Congrats!”

“Thanks! You helped so much, I thought you had to be the first to know. And on Wednesday you can help me decide what corrections to add, too. This is all so exciting! It’s happening so fast!” you ramble quickly, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug.

“No you did that all on your own! I knew they’d pick you up, too. So fucking talented,” he mumbles, returning your embrace.

“Thank you oh my goodness! Okay, I just wanted to come over quick to tell you that. I have to work on some audition music so I’ll head out in a few,” you say.

Harry opens his mouth to reply when you both hear his bedroom door open. Harry’s eyes widened in realization and your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Harry?” you hear an unrecognizable voice, “You done?”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes as you start to realize what was happening. He was with someone. He found someone and it wasn’t you.

She walks down the stairs and your head immediately turns in the direction of the girl. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your tears in the ducts of your eyes as you see her in a t-shirt you know Harry absolutely loves.

“Hey, uh Logan. This is Y/N,” he trails off lightly, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

“Hi,” you smile falsely and extend your hand for her to shake.

“Hey, I’m Logan. You’re Harry’s friend?” she presumes, looking at the two of you.

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” you pause, “Sorry, I didn’t know H was seeing anyone. This was kind of unexpected.”

“Oh that’s alright, I was going to leave soon anyway. Have to meet some friends for dinner,” she shrugged carelessly.

“No, no, you can stay. I feel bad. I can be out in a few minutes,” you tell her with a soft smile.

She looked at you and Harry intervened before she could get a word out, “That’s alright, you can both stay if you want?” he suggested.

“I really do have to go,” Logan trailed off.

Harry quickly jumped at this, “Oh! Sorry, love. Yeah, go ahead, don’t mean to keep you here if you need to be somewhere.”

“I’ll just grab my stuff,” she smiles at the two of you and heads back upstairs to where you assume she was staying in Harry’s bedroom.

You and Harry stand in silence for a moment, “Sorry I should’ve asked to come over. I’ll go, you can spend some time with her before she leaves,” you finally stammer with a slightly wavering voice.

“No!” Harry exclaims a bit too loudly, making you flinch at his tone. “You can stay,” he whispers.

“That’s alright, I have to practice anyway,” you say in a rush, leaving his house at once without looking back at him.

It was two days later when Logan showed up at Harry’s house with a soft smile on her face and her eyes filled with lust.

Not only two minutes after Harry opened the door, his lips were on hers and they were making their ways upstairs to his bedroom. Logan had come to Harry’s for a quick fuck and Harry was there to provide.

It had taken them a few weeks to get into a flow and get a general idea of each others bodys and needs and now that they were getting good sex, they didn’t take many moments to stop and catch their breath.

There were a few moments, though where Logan knew she fell short of your company. She could tell with a quick glance at Harry that he was a lovesick puppy when it came to you and it became more and more apparent the more time they spent together.

When they weren’t fucking, he spent most of his free time talking about you. The girl of his dreams and the funniest, prettiest, nicest, person he’s ever met.

She had her hands in his hair and he had his hands tugging on her waist when his phone began buzzing from his bedside table.

Logan sat up from where she laid, straddling Harry’s lap. He let out a soft groan and ran and hand through his hair as he checked who had called him.

His lips fell into an effortless smile as he answered your call, leaving Logan breathless and unfulfilled. She resulted in getting up from his bed and walking out of his house once she realized it was you he was talking to.

That following Monday, you watched as Harry made his way into your home, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the two of you as you sat on your sofa.

“How was your date with Logan?” you ask eventually.

“Oh, it was- it wasn’t a date,” Harry tried to describe, leaving you confused. Harry wasn’t one for casual hookups.

“Then what was it?” you ask timidly, hoping for an answer you can understand.

“Just meeting an old friend from college,” he coughs.

“A friend?” you ask confused.

“Yeah, uh, a friend,” he emphasized.

“Oh,” you let out softly, “Why’d you get back with her?” you ask.

“I don’t think the girl I like likes me back, so I wanted a distraction” he replies vaguely, turning on your TV in search of a new film to watch on Netflix.

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Harry looks at you for the first time that day, “Well she doesn’t act like it at all, so I think I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you shrug, “What is there to lose?”

“A person who I value a lot in my life,” he replies almost instantly.

You didn’t reply after that, allowing the film Harry chose in a haze to begin and you sink further into the sofa.

It had been an eventful week. You had sent back your manuscript twice between today and your original week and yesterday you had auditioned for the live orchestra for the annual Nutcracker production.

This had been your fifth year playing in it- you were very confident in your ability to get a spot in the orchestra- but it was the solo that brought you grief. Every year, each section had a competitive fight between musicians for the solos that are littered through the production.

You found that the busy week that had followed you around became the main reason you were able to get your mind off Harry. No matter what you did he meandered his way into your thoughts and you were beginning to feel pathetic that your mood relied on him.

It was when you came home from auditions on Tuesday evening when you got a phone call from Harry. You hesitantly picked up the phone and allowed him to speak first.

“Y/N? You there? Can you talk for a second?” he asked.

“Yeah, what’s up,” you reply.

“I need your advice. I think Logan wants to start seeing someone but she won’t admit it to me so I don’t know what I should do because I don’t want her to hold back on it just because of me,” he pushes quickly.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well why wouldn’t she admit she wants to see someone? She probably likes you, H, don’t worry. She’ll talk to you if she likes someone else.”

You heard a heavy sigh come from Harry’s end of the line as you picked up all your belongings from your car, your phone sitting between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I just- I don’t think she wants to tell me for some reason.”

What you didn’t know was that Harry was trying to prolong this call in an attempt to see if you would tell him to cut it off with Logan. It had only been a few weeks, and to be fair he hadn’t hooked up with her more then three times.

He knew he loved you but he needed confirmation that you liked him back. Logan insisted that you did but he didn’t trust her judgement as much as he trusted his own.

As you learned through numerous conversations with Harry, he is a charming man, but he is also a confusing one. He isn’t direct and he seems to beat around the bush when it comes to serious things in his life.

“Okay,” you say, confused, “Well just tell her that if she can’t be honest then she’s never going to be able to break it off with you. And if she says the same thing and you still don’t believe her just cut it off,” you advise selfishly.

You wanted to help Harry, you truly did, but you were also a human. You were selfish and needy and you wanted Harry to yourself. So, you did what a selfish, and jealous, girl would do and you hinted at breaking it off.

“Thanks,” he let out a huff of air, “Sorry, I have to sort some stuff out and I’m really stressed so I wanted your opinion about this,” he apologizes.

“It’s alright. Let me know how it goes, yeah? I gotta run some errands but I’ll see you tomorrow?” you confirm.

Harry hums in agreement and you hang up first, leaving him with the dial tone on his phone.

The first thing you do when you get in your office is check your email. You were waiting on a reply from Bradford- you had just sent in another round of corrections and asked him for minor technical critiques to finish off the piece. You were proud of where it was and you were thoroughly in love with it.

Just as you opened your laptop, you saw the taunting icon saying you have an unread email. You attempted to calm your nerves before opening it, preparing yourself for almost all senders.

But calming your nerves turned into a loud scream. Bradford had replied and informed you that he loved the piece and accepts it as your final draft. He also mentioned that he will fax over the legal documents to look over before meeting with him officially and signing all the necessary contracts.

Just as he said, later that night you received a thick stack of papers to sift off to your parents to help you look over and make sure everything was alright for you to sign.

You bind all the pages together with a few paperclips and make a quick drive into the suburbs to give your parents the good news and ask them to help you find someone to look over all the papers for you.

Your parents weren’t the most enjoyable people to live with but they were great to see in moderation. It was a large showcase of love every time you or Monica came home- they cooked, cleaned, and helped with just about everything you asked.

So, when you arrived home, you got the full treatment. Your mom had cooked a nice dinner for you all and your dad helped you look over the contracts in their entirety as you waited for dinner to be served. You deemed the papers safe and the three of you decided you could sign on them as soon as possible and get all the proper licensing.

You were overjoyed on your drive home and the moment you arrived back, you sent Bradford a quick email from your phone saying you can meet anytime to sign and that you had looked over the contracts.

The following morning, you had gotten back a response stating he was free later that afternoon and you took him up on his offer to sign on the fine Wednesday.

You met him back at his office, similar to the first time, and you had brought all the papers he had sent you, giving him a solid rundown of what you were expecting and negotiating royalties.

You had taken half an hour to settle on a final deal and Bradford had gotten the contracts readjusted for you to sign.

It was nerve wracking but exciting to be holding the pen in your hand and you signed page after page, ensuring your music could be sold and would be given proper care and proper copyright laws.

“Last one right here, Y/N,” Bradford encouraged you. Your wrist grew tired but you refused to complain considering how much you wanted this and how long you waited.

“Okay,” you grunted, signing your name sloppily and allowing Bradford to pull all the papers out from under your hold.

“So, what this all ensures from our relationship standpoint is that we are the primary distributor and we will be helping with copyright and making sure you get your money's worth,” he briefs with a chuckle. He straightens out the stack and stands up with a smile on his face.

You follow in suit and stand up at the desk, straightening out your pants, “Thank you so much,” you gush.

“Thank you for thinking to work with us,” Bradford countered, making you shake your head.

“Of course,” you say kindly, “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few weeks. Been a huge help.”

“Oh it was our pleasure, Y/N. You're a wonderful artist. I think we all enjoyed working with your piece.”

You shake Bradfords hand and exchange pleasantries as you exit his office with a smile on your face.

It was the rush of relief that went through your body that helped you realize the gravity of what just happened. Your music has been sold and now has the opportunity to be in music shops, orchestras, and played all across the globe. And that was a great feeling.

It was indescribable, to say the least. It had taken over a year to compose the piece and you had multiple failed attempts prior to this one. The piece you named Domicile was quite literally a love letter to your life.

The piece went through the ups and downs of love. Domestic love, platonic love, romantic love. It was all encompassed in the piece you titled home.

Written from the back of your mind, you had no idea how to articulate how proud of yourself you were. It was self expression and it was beautiful.

Later that evening, Harry arrived at your home as he usually did. He held a small calculator and his laptop in his arm as he abandoned his car in your driveway and made his way up to your door.

He knocked before opening it, knowing you always forget to lock it when you came home from work, and he followed the noise of soft jazz down the hall and into your office.

The paint smell had finally vanished the room and he found you sitting comfortably on the floor with your legs folded beneath you. “Hey, how was your day?” He asks, walking in and sitting across from you on the floor.

“Really fucking good,” you grin, making eye contact with him.

“Care to explain?” he asks with wide eyes and an encouraging smile.

“Yes,” you say dramatically, “I, Y/N Y/L/N, am officially,” you pause for effect.

“Oh come on,” Harry groans in anticipation.

“I am officially a signed artist,” you squeal in excitement.

“No fucking way,” he says softly, “No fucking way!” he yells. “I knew you would oh my goodness! This is amazing! We have to celebrate-” he rambles on.

“Harry!” you exclaim with a giggle, “No need to celebrate this is enough!” you assure.

“No, no, no,” Harry says, “We gotta do something. Even if it’s just a dinner with Mon and I. We gotta.”

“No,” you reiterate firmly.

“Fine,” Harry says, “But you’re coming with me,” he says standing up. He extends his hand out and helps you stand before leading you to your living room.

He gently tugs your arm towards him and he presses his chest up against yours. “Play it on the speaker, love,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling back and using your phone to play the symphony over your speaker system per Harry’s request.

Harry smiled at you and gently put his hand up to yours, interlocking your fingers and holding you tightly. “Dance with me?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“Of course, sir,” you tease, stepping into his hold, his arms wrapping around your waist and your hands draped over his shoulders lightly.

“I’m really proud of you,” he whispers, swaying back and forth.

“Thank you so much,” you hum, “Seriously, you helped with so much of it. I really appreciate it.”

Harry ducked his head in a bashful manner, unsure of how to reply to your high praise, “I’d do it again if I had to.”

You shake your head, looking out the window next to you two. The sun was setting and the sky was a painting of oranges and pinks, “God, Harry.”

“What,” he chuckles, following your gaze.

“I cannot believe you’re real,” you whisper, you hand moving to meet his jaw. You graze your thumb over his skin in utter disbelief.

“Harry?” you call out softly. He was zoned out, staring at your profile.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“Can I kiss you?” you breathe out timidly. You don’t know where exactly you got all the courage that consumed your body at that current moment, but you were thankful for it.

Harry swallowed thickly before his eyes met yours, “Yes please,” he whispers back at you.

Your hand that rested on his jaw caressed the skin for a moment before you leaned into his warmth. Your lips met his lightly, you pulling away too quickly for his liking. Harry looked at you once more before leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet yours heavily.

You smile into his mouth, absolute joy coursing through your veins as he kissed you so carefully but so harshly. Your bodies stilled into the kiss, your mouths moving in sync slowly, absorbing every inch of each other.

Harry lets out a small groan as you grind slowly against him, his head threatening to roll back if it weren’t for your hand holding his head still.

His hands moved along your back comfortingly making your body melt into his expertly. You pull away again, Harry looking at you with dimmed eyes, you completely out of breath, “Songs over,” you whisper.

“So restart it,” he replies with a small grin.

Harry ended up seeing the full performance of Midsummer the last night it was performed at the theater. He apologized profusely and insisted he’d see the last of the show if it was the last thing he did, so you let him come and sit right in the front as he wished.

Just as the first time, he sent you smiles of luck before your solo and a few more afterwards to show he was proud of you. Just as you anticipated, he is the best person to cheer you on during a performance.

You knew Harry would be waiting for you in the lobby, so you held off on putting your overcoat on and allowed yourself to step out of the backstage area with your black dress and short heels, your clarinet and jacket in hand.

He held his arm out for you once you became close enough for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and you walked into his hold, “I got something for you,” he tells you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask with a smile creeping its way onto your lips.

Harry smiles at you before handing you the flowers that sat in his other hand. It was an assortment of long stem red roses, what he read to be the traditional rose to give after a performance.

“Thank you,” you whisper in awe, your eyes meeting his as he looks at you.

Harry hums in response and tugs you closer to his body before leaving a quick peck on your lips and pulling away just as fast as he approached you.

You and Harry were confused to say the least. You had both confirmed you liked each other the night you got signed but you found it difficult for the two of you to label what was going on. Harry wanted it to be exclusive and you wanted to give it a trial run to see how it would work. And though you did give it a trial run, the two of you were yet to discuss what was going on.

You assumed this would be like any other relationship you had been in- after a few months and a handful of dates, you’d consider yourselves partners- but this was vastly different. You have known Harry for a few years now and he has always been a part of your life. So what counted as a date and what was as normal?

Well, tonight constituted a date. Harry had told you before he arrived that he would be taking you out for a nice dinner after your show and to be ready for the best night of your life. You rolled your eyes at his antics and humored him by showing him the outfit you had picked out- the dress you found yourself wearing every Sunday- and a different jacket then you usually wore- this one more flattering for the body.

Harry nodded in approval at this and made his way to the theater, you asking one of your friends to give you a ride so you could go home with Harry later that night.

Now you sat in Harry’s car with his hand resting on your knee, your hand covering his as he drives you both to dinner. He was clad in the same suit he wore the first time he saw you and it subtly matched the black dress and white coat with pleats that you wore next to him.

Harry informed you when you got in the car that he would be taking you to his favorite (fancy) steakhouse in the next city over. Before you could protest her told you it was in celebration of your final performance and being signed, therefore your protests would only further encourage him.

“Will these flowers be alright sitting in the car during dinner?” you ask him.

“Not sure,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “I’ll get you new ones if they aren’t.”

“No!” you’re quick to stop him, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well what if I want to? You gonna stop me from fulfilling my inner desires?” he asks you teasingly.

You roll your eyes at him and look out the window. The soft sounds of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac fill the silence as Harry exits the highway and turns into the parking lot of Del Friscos, the steakhouse.

Harry exits the car first, rushing to your door so he can open the door for you. You smile at him as you step out of the car and walk in the building hand in hand.

The restaurant was dimly lit and had high, round booths around the perimeter of the room, tables with pristine white tablecloths among the center. Harry met the host with a small smile and a, “Styles, party of two,” before being led to a corner booth with you in toe.

You smile at Harry as you slide into the booth, your hands making their way to the hem of your dress and tugging on it, “This place is really nice,” you comment your voice laced with insecurity.

“Yup, that’s why we look really nice,” Harry reminds you.

“I feel like this is normal,” you chuckle, “I wear this every Sunday.”

“My girl looks this nice every Sunday and I never knew? Might have to make a pit stop Sunday nights too,” Harry compliments.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “I’d be alright with that.”

Harry smiles at you as a waitress comes over and asks what drinks you’d like.

The dinner was filling and well-made, you found yourself laughing harder than you ever had and eating the best food you’ve had in awhile.

Harry held your hand as you left the steakhouse and he opened the passenger seat door for you, rushing to the other side to turn the heater on for you, “One more stop before I bring ya home,” Harry tells you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Alright, where?”

“Oh, Y/N, you should know by now that if I don’t tell you it’s a secret!”

“Well it was worth a try,” you shoot him a smile, your hand finding its place in his.

Harry hums in agreement, “Just know if I want you to know, you’ll know.”

You let out a laugh at his stubbornness, “Alright sir,” you say in a posh accent.

Harry lets out an exaggerated hey before saying, “That’s what I sound like when I talk to my boss.

You burst out in laughter and Harry goes on to tell you an embarrassing story from the first time he met his boss.

When Harry’s car reverses into a spot, your eyes shoot up in surprise at your arrival at the hardly-built riverwalk in your town. It was a new location and half the restaurants were still in the process of being built but it was still a nice place to go.

You catch the door before Harry can, you send him a smug smile and take his hand as he tugs you gently towards the ice cream shop he seemed to be eyeing.

The location was dimly lit with blue tinted lights and a few wall sconces that gave a warm orange glow.

“How did you know I wanted to come here?” you asked him finally, coming to a stop and stepping inside the building.

“It’s just about the only thing you’ve talked about for about two months,” Harry teased you with an accusatory finger.

Your lips curve upwards as you exhale a laugh, “Okay, you got me there.”

Harry smirks at you as you look at the menu before you, stepping up to the teen worker who looked far too tired to be awake, “Can I get a scoop of chocolate? And he’ll have,” you point at Harry.

“Uh- I’ll have a scoop of vanilla with graham crumbs please,” Harry gives the worker a cheeky grin and wraps his arm around your waist as you wait for your cones.

You smile in thanks as Harry pays, heading out of the building almost immediately to be met with a gust of wind and a lit up river beside you.

Harry stays by your side as you both walk in silence taking in the scenery, eating your ice cream peacefully. It was a really nice way to spend your evening and you found yourselves enjoying each other's presence more than each other's conversation.

“Okay,” you swallow the last bit of your ice cream, “What’s your dream travel destination?” you ask.

Harry's eyebrows raise in amusement, “What, did you look up first date questions?”

You stifle out a laugh, “Maybe, I didn’t know if it would be awkward.”

Harry lets out an exaggerated, “Ha!” before redirecting you back in the direction of his car, “That’s cute that you care so much.”

“What and you don’t care?” you tease.

“I care just not enough to google first day questions,” he pokes your side playfully.

You laugh out a “Fine!” and redirect the conversation to your performance from earlier that night.

It was a full week apart from Harry and you were excited to reunite with him. Your week had been full with auditions for different parts in the Nutcracker every day so you found yourself unavailable to spend your Monday and Wednesday with Harry, having little to no time to yourself.

Now, the following Sunday, the only thing between Harry and yourself was your front door.

Harry was officially invited to your orchestra’s gala in celebration of completing Midsummer. You both had decided that Harry would arrive promptly two hours before you needed leave and you two would get ready together.

He was lying down on your bed as you leaned over your bathroom counter in an attempt to perfect your eyeliner, “Don’t know why you bother with that,” you hear him grumble.

You let out a chuckle and stood back to decide if it was even enough, “Me neither it’s too fucking hard.”

Harry lets out a snort, “That's what she said.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him through your mirror, “You sure you’re not fifteen?”

Harry smiles, “You sure The Office is only for fifteen year olds?” he shoots back.

Your face matches his and you lean into the mirror once more to perfect your eyeliner before moving to your closet to change into your dress for the night, prompting Harry to begin getting into his suit as well.

Today, for the nicer event, you wore a nude dress with navy accents towards the bottom and a leg slit Harry thought made you look absolutely ravishing. And, in perfect coordination, Harry wore a navy suit with a white half-buttoned shirt underneath and his favorite red boots that reminded him of an old western movie you’d watched a few months back.

He held your hand as you stepped out of your closet and let out a dramatic “Oh damn!” at first sight before spinning you around so he can get a full idea of your outfit.

You fall into a fit of giggles and collapse into his hold and he sways back and forth, “I really like you,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you reply with a grin, “I like you a lot back.”

“Well how lucky am I?”

“So damn lucky,” you tell him as you let out a silent giggle, “Come on, let's head out.”

The drive to the theater seemed all too short for the both of you. You were sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company on the way there, stealing a few kisses at a red light or a longing glance while Harry was concentrating on changing lanes during rush hour.

When you arrived at the hotel the gala was held at, you both found your way inside and to the tables that were set up with your names on small place cards. You both sat there in soft chatter as you awaited the arrival of your friends who were to sit at the same table.

Eventually, you were met with a crowd of people around your table and your voices raised in volume and excitement. It was merely 8:00 when your ears were greeted by the sound of a disconnected microphone.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Jordan Pennington, the conductor of the Midsummer Night’s Dream orchestra performance and I’m here to recognize each performer for their outstanding work over the course of these past months,” his voice cut through the room like glass.

Jordan then went on to state each performer and his favorite memory with them through the course of the orchestral production.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Jordan introduced, an image of you as a baby and you now making their way onto the screen behind him, “Y/N is a strong clarinetist we are blessed to have in our group. She works very hard in the theater and outside and has recently been signed as a composer so I’m hoping I’ll be conducting her work soon,” he paused as people congratulated you. You didn’t publicize your signing, so a lot of people were in shock and impressed.

“She’s been with us for a while so we have a few good memories with her at this theater but I think everybody's favorite is just about any time Y/N brings lunch,” he pauses as everyone starts laughing. You bury your face in your hands as Harry looks at you with a confused smile.

“When Y/N brings lunch she without fail trips on one of the steps and spills something,” Jordan informs. You let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughter and Harry covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Can we move on?” you call out.

Jordan lets out a laugh and obliges, moving onto the next person on his list.

You glance at Harry who is taking a sip of wine and you raise your eyebrows at him, making him nearly spit out his drink, “Sorry, love,” he coughs out, bringing you in for a hug, “Just sounds so much like you it’s impossible,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes at him and continue to listen as Jordan goes through the rest of your orchestra.

When he finishes, your food is devoured and the middle of the room is opened to allow people to dance. You glance at Harry and take his hand, reminding him of the night you first kissed, “Come on,” you mutter.

He allows you to take him to the center of the room where some of your colleagues have begun to conglomerate and dance slowly to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, you two joining in the mass.

Unlike last time, you knew exactly how to act, your arms immediately finding a home around his shoulders and pulling him close so your flesh is against his.

Harry smiled at this and squeezed you at the waist as a silent way of saying I love you, his head leaning in towards yours and your foreheads resting against each other.

“How is it that we always end up dancing?” he asks you.

“Not sure, I was never good at it either but here I am,” you chuckle a reply.

Harry’s eyes shoot up in disbelief, “There is no way you weren’t a good dancer.”

“Swear on it,” you say, your lips tugging upwards to make a smile.

“No. I refuse to believe that, you’re so good,” he says, his eyes shooting down to your feet and then back up to your eyes making you giggle.

“Nope,” you say confidently, “Just found you and you were good. By association I’m good.”

“So what you’re saying is you found the right partner?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You fall into a full belly laugh at his antics before agreeing, “I found the right partner.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shots #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic

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plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Praise Thy Master

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: I think this is my first time writing a dom reader so I hope I did well!!

You sit in silence at a cafe, your grapefruit bubble tea sat in front of you stands perfectly still. Your legs are crossed under the table as you scroll through your phone, drink half empty and mask pulled tight against your face. You pull your mask and slip the straw underneath, popping a pomegranate bubble between your tongue and roof of your mouth. A chair across the room squeaks and you let out a sigh. When you look up, no one is staring at you, eyes focused on anyone but you. You lean back into your seat and hook your purse across your shoulder. You grab your drink, the water that has formed on it wets your hands and you click your tongue. You stand from your table and make your way across the shop. Your steps are quick and light, and reaching upon a table where a lone man sits, you take the seat across.

The man jerks in attention and stares at you, eyes glancing around the room and hands forming into fists. “I-”

“You know it’s rude to stare right?” You roll your eyes and gently swing your legs under the table. “I mean, come on. It’s one of the few days I have off and all I wanted was to enjoy some tea but instead,” your voice raises in pitch and you tilt your head, “I have some stalker come and show up here. I mean is no place safe from you? And you,” you chuckle and shake your head, “you’re-” you point a finger at him- “unrelenting. I mean, how long has it been? Couple months, no? I gotta give you props for it. You know so much about me- things that aren’t even available online. And all the stuff you give me? I have to admit, they’re preferable compared to other gifts. I mean- all those little trinkets that you leave me? The cream? Smells lovely.” You tilt your head and the man sits in silence, perfectly still, as if the need for movement is gone. “It kind of reminds me of a cat, you know? When they leave presents for their masters.” You smile underneath your mask and your legs come to a still. “So kitty,” you purr, your leg coming up and brushing against his,”you coming to my show tonight?” Your leg stretches high, brushing against his leg.

The chair makes an awful, high pitched screeching sound and the drink nearly topples over until you grasp it, your legs coming down to the floor. You pout and shake your head. You pinch your mask and take a sip from his drink. “Mm, peach.” You bat your eyes at him and stand from the seat gracefully. Your hand meets his shoulders and you spare him a glance. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Great performance as always!” The man in front of you shakes your gloved hand and you smile widely at him. “When you sing, it’s- it’s like I could feel the love you give to all your fans!”

“Oh!” You giggle and clasp your other hand above your fan. “Thank you so much! You know I wouldn’t be anywhere without you as my fan!” You give him a head tilt and quirk your lips.

“I really do love-”

A sweet ringing sound fills your ears and you slip your hands out of the male’s grip and you lean back against the metal chair. “Oh,” you pout. “Looks like we ran out of time. I’ll see you next time, right?” You nod your head as you say your words, beaming as the man that is escorted away from you shouts his reply.

Your eyes are closed as the next person moves forward and you beam at them without seeing who they are. “Hi! I hope-” you open your eyes and your smile flaters and turns into something colder- “well, you did show up, huh?”

The man with light blue hair that reaches his shoulders avoids your gaze and holds a photocard set of you gingerly in his hands. He extends it out to you and under the mask he wears, you can see red peek out.

“You’re going to have to speak up if you want me to sign it.” You place your chin above your hands and smile sweetly at him. “So, what is it you want me to do?”

“Can you sign the cards,” he hesitates, “please.” His eyes meet yours for a quick second before looking away. “To Tomura.”

“Tomura?” You repeat and the man nods. “That’s a cute name,” you hum and grab a pen, grabbing the card set and etching your signature on it. Your eyes meet his and they glance back down at the set in front of you. He has a cute voice- raspy but it suits him. “I didn’t see you in the audience. Either you just showed up or-” you glance up at him and put the pen down- “you’re really good at hiding. But,” your eyes glance over him, “that’s to be expected isn’t it?” The cards are neatly tucked back into the box and you place a kiss against the top, a sliver of glimmer glints under the light and you hold out to him with a coy smile. “Sorry I got some lipstick on it Tomura.”

“That’s-”

“Before you leave,” you raise a hand, “look at the last picture for me? I left you something special.” You bat your eyelashes at him and watch as he opens the set. He’s careful as he pulls out the card, your eyes are entirely focused on his hands, watching as he grabs the card. His eyes scan the card, eyes appearing soft for a split second. It’s a simple photoset- polaroids of you in various settings with white space underneath for your name and when he flips the card over his eyes widen and he looks back at you. You smile and wink at him as the bell rings, serving as a notification that time is over. “Bye Tomura. I’ll see you later.” You wave at him as he’s told to leave.

You sit in your home, going through social media, reading the nice comments left on the official page for you and various others on people who managed to take a few pictures or videos during the concert. You smile softly and hum. Your phone buzzes with messages from your friends who congratulate you and fans who heart your comments. It makes you smile and pride swells in your chest. You did good. And you’re exhausted, but you’re happy. For the most part. While your phone vibrates with notifications, it still doesn’t feel as if it’s enough. You haven’t received one. You haven’t received your little stalker’s message. It makes you sigh.

“To think, he’s been following me around and yet he can’t even message me after I offered, how sad.” You pout and lean back against your pillows. “It’s too bad I didn’t get his number.”

As if graced by a higher power, your phone buzzes with a message and you rise from the comfortable, slack position with a giddy expression. You quickly unlock your phone and you’re met with a text message from a soap company promoting their new line. You groan and fall back to bed.

A knock at your window makes you jump out of your skin. You turn and see a hand fisted, hovering over the window and you grin widely. You jump out of bed, pulling down on the shorts that have risen up and done little to hide what you have hidden. You throw the window open and he flinches away.

“Tomura!” He winces and retracts his hand. “Oh come on, you’ve been to my place dozen of times- granted without my permission-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He hisses and when you move away from the window, you encourage him to enter. He narrows his eyes at you and he enters your room. “What the-” he mutters when you move past him and shut the window, latching on the lock and closing the curtain.

“Oh Tomura,” you sigh and walk over to the bed. “You’ve been stalking me and now you’re going to get mad when I allow you into my home?” You spread your arms wide and give him an incredulous smile. “You must have been inside my place before- right?” You nod encouragingly at him.

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes darting around.

“Okay. So what have you done then? I’ve never had a stalker as committed as you are,” you coo, crossing your leg over the other. “To be honest, I haven’t seen my other stalkers as of late.” You tilt your head. “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to them would you?”

“Do you know who I am?”

You shake your head and you have this innocent look when you bat your eyelashes at him. “Entertain me.” You smile sweetly at him. “Come on kitten,” you coo.

He opens his mouth and mouths words but ultimately closes it.

“Cat got your tongue?” You lilt, a knowing smile on your lips. “I’m fairly positive on who you are. And if I’m right, then I’m a lot more positive about what you’ve done to them. You left their watches or fan memorabilia on my doorstep and the next day I hear they go missing. It’s uh, rather uncouth,” you giggle and scratch the side of your jaw. “I could have gotten in trouble for it, you know?”

“You recognized what they wore?”

You raise your index and puff your chest. “I recognize all- or at least most- of the fans that I have! It’s important to keep my fans happy.” You smile cheekily at him and give him finger guns. “So you invited yourself over. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Why?” When you tilt your head and the smile falls from your face, he continues. “Why did you give me your number?”

You shrug. “To be perfectly honest, I just found you interesting. You’re like this enigma to me. I have suspicion of who you are and if my suspicions are true, then that brings so many more questions. I have to ask- What made you become a fan of mine, Shigaraki-san?” Your grin widens when his shoulders scare and you giggly flap your hands. “Ah! Am I right?”

He opens his mouth and he shakes his head. He buries his face into his hands and his shoulders shake. You frown and when you raise a hand to comfort him, you hear laughter. Your hand retracts as soon as he raises his head and you blink owlishly at him. His laughter is high pitched and you watch him in wonder, your smile growing and hands that jump and dance across your lap. He laughs and shakes his head, and his eyes glint with something unrecognizable. “You’re fucking insane,” he laughs.

“Does that mean you don’t want to make-out?” You bite the inside of your lips when he freezes. “I was going to invite you over but you sort of did that yourself.” He stutters and his face grows red. You allow your grin to widen and even you can tell it comes off predatory. “That’s cute you know. The whole big bad villain is flustered over a kiss,” you lick your lips, “I like it.”

“I’m not-”

You rise from the bed and cup his face in your hands, lips meshing into his and you smile into the kiss when he gasps, tongue slipping into his mouth and your hands remove themselves from his face and slide down his chest. Your hands wrap around his waist and slide towards his middle, unbuttoning his pants and zipping down his zipper.

You pull away from the kiss and you take a deep breath. “Do you want this Tomura? Or Shigaraki? Which-”

“Tomura,” he nods, frantically, pupils dilated and cheeks red. “Call me Tomura.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Okay Tomura,” you peck his lips. “But I do want to ask again- do you-” You gasp when he presses his lips against yours. Your hand slides upwards, to cup the back of his head and you grip his hair into your hand and yank his head back. He whines and makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t get too greedy now Tomu-kun,” you growl. “You still stalked me. Don’t think I forgot about that.” You let go of him and sit on the bed, slipping your shorts and underwear off and tossing them to the side. Your legs are separated and you give him a coquettish grin. “You’re free to have a taste.”

His eyes meet yours and he nods. He sits on his knees and a hand goes down to grab at his hardening length. You tut your tongue and pat him on his head. He glares at you, only to soften when you narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh Tomu-kun,” you sigh. “You made my first few months a literal hell with how paranoid I was. You really don’t get to have the happy ending right now.” Your lips curl upwards and teeth come to show. “I do. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself until I say so. I’m really not above punishing if needed, kitten.” You slip your top off and tilt your hair. “Understood?” He nods. “Good,” you give him a honeyed smile and grab at your inner thigh. “So lick it baby.”

His tongue is hot against your core. He laps at it feverishly, mouth swirling past your clit and slipping into your slit, suckling at the arousal that seeps from you. He rocks himself on his knees and presses his face further into you and your heel presses into his back. His arm twitches and he whines pitifully into you, the vibration making you jerk your hips towards his face.

“No touching,” you mewl, grabbing at your breast and rubbing a pebbled nipple. “Not yet Tomu-kun. Just hold out.”

He nods against you and his tongue pushes around your clit, swirling the pulsing bud around, tongue peeking out and lips wrapping around to suckle on it and his swipes down, nose brushing against it causing your legs to tense and a moan to sound in the back of your throat. His tongue flicks in and out of you, circling and rubbing your inner walls, your sex leaking with desire as your breaths grow deeper.

“Good boy,” you murmur, your hand reaching between your legs to grab at a tendril of his hair, holding it between your fingers. “Who knew you’d be so good at following directions. You’re such a good boy, kitten.” You rise on your elbows and his eyes meet yours. “Come on kit, don’t you want to know what I taste like? How sweet my orgasm is? How it’ll feel as I tighten around your tongue?”

His feasting becomes more feverish, tongue swishing inside of you, he presses his face closer to your sex, desperate to get you to reach your high and you sigh. “Tomura, I’ll be nice. You get to touch me if you want.”

As the words leave your lips, his fingers enter you and your eyes widen and body tenses. His fingers move in and out at a fast pace, lewd noises fill the room and his fingers curl inside of you, desperate to find the sweet spot that will make you curl. His digits are noble and quick, and when they press against your wall you gasp and your back arches. A whispered curse leaves your lips and you rise to a sitting position, gripping his hair in your hand.

“Fuck Tomura,” you gasp. “Do- Do that again- oh fuck,” you groan, wrapping your legs around him and stifling a moan behind a hand when he mimics his previous actions. “Yes, Tomura. Oh- what a good boy. Fuck,” you spit out, your hands releasing his hair and harsh, ragged breaths leaving through your nose. You spill onto his face, his tongue curling inside of you, swallowing your honeyed nectar, humming as it slides down his throat. His hands still and his erection presses harshly against the fabric of his pants. You tap his head and lean back onto your back. “Okay. You know how to use your tongue.”

“Can I touch myself now?” His voice cracks and when you peek at him, you grin.

Tomura sits on his knees; your sweetness decorating his chin and making it shine under your lights, his face is blooming red and his pupils are dilated, tongue lolling out and he looks so needy. He takes stuttering breaths, ot breath fanning across your thigh, his arm twitches and a hand rises to tug on a strand of hair.

“Get on the bed, dear,” you stretch your arms above your head, “I want to try something with you.” He rises and you gasp. “Oh! Make sure you strip though. And do it slow for me, hm?”

His face burns bright and you watch with wide eyes as he removes his clothing. He does as he’s told, he removes the clothing slowly letting it pool onto the floor. His leg jerks and he looks around your room, avoiding your eyes and you think it’s cute how shy he is- how this infamous villain is brought to his literal knees with a simple command. He crawls onto the bed and you perk up as he covers his face with his hands, chest caving in with deep breaths. You run a hand across his chest, lips quirking upwards, when he jumps, your hand glides down his abdomen and flutters above his pelvis.

“You’re so cute,” you mutter under your breath. You hold the base of his cock and run your thumb across his length. He twitches under your touch, pearly beads leaking down his cock and he makes a choking sound. You shush him gently. “You might not get the full happy ending, but you’ll get one.” Your hands glide above him, wrapping him in a firm grip. You take a peek at him, an eye on you as you work him with your hands. “You still stalked me you know. And even if I am attracted to you, I really can’t forgive that,” you chuckle. “I went through such a bad spell of paranoia, you know?” You turn to look at him and your grip tightens. “Be grateful I’m even touching you like this.” You return your attention to his thickness and jerk him slowly. Your lips hover over his slit that beads and you whisper onto him, “You’re not being very grateful, you know?”

He grumbles under his breath. “Thank you,” it comes out in a hoarse whisper. “I- Thank you so much.” He whines when he feels your tongue lap across his slit. “Fuck,” he archs his back when your mouth suctions his cockhead, “fuck.” He squirms and his breathing grows deeper, hoarser while your tongue swirls around him and sucks him deeper. “Thank you,” he croaks, repeating it like a mantra, hands carefully poised above his stomach leaving red lines to avoid decaying your covers.

You pop off his shaft, a string of drool and pre-ejaculate connecting you to his cock and you lick your lips. “You’re a bit of a bitter kitten,” you speak slowly, mouth still parted open and glistening. “I’m not sure if I like it or not.” Your hand works him slowly, more enthralled with the feeling of him in your grasp and you bring a nail to ghost over a prominent vein, smirking when he moans. “Say my name Tomura. I want to hear it.”

He repeats your name under his breath. It’s quiet, nothing more than a murmur in the night, a silent plea laced into your name, filled with want and desire, until it grows, chanting it louder, the want more prominent, hands that dig into his belly and leave red crescent marks in its wake. He moans it out, broken by guttural groans of pleasure as you quicken your pace. Your name is echoed throughout your home, bouncing off the walls, voice groaning weak and his muscles tense. You wrap your lips around him and choke when his seed slides down your throat. It’s bitter and thick, and you can feel the dripping down your throat as it slides in thick, gooey strands. You pop away from him, licking your lips and bringing your index and middle finger to your lips.

He lays in bed, bottom lip between teeth and you roll your eyes and give him a tired smile. Your hand rests above his and he stiffens. “You’ll ruin your lips like that, kitten. You’ve been here plenty, you know where the kitchen is. I’m going to take a shower. You’re free to join me,” you coo, circling your finger around his pebbled nipple. You rise from the bed and give a pat to his thigh, leaving the room filled with rough breathing and little mewls of pleasure.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura imagines #tomura shigaraki imagines #bnha imagines #shigaraki bnha #shigaraki x reader #i hope you like it!!

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twst-headcanons · 4 years

Note

Hey! I was scrolling through some of your older posts and i found the band au one. I was really interested about it so maybe if you haven’t done it, could you do a continuation of it through hcs?

AUHROENFOSHDJNDKD WAIT OHMYGOD ANON THANK YOU IVE BEEN MEANING TO POST MORE STUFF I ALREADY HAVE PLENTY MORE WRITTEN ABOUT EACH SO I HOPE YOURE OK WITH ME POSTING THE BASIC BIOS

HEARTSLAYBUL

A band of five boys looking to enjoy the rest of their highschool experience together before moving on to the real world as adults.

Riddle Rosehearts; A junior at Night Raven, and the young heir to his mother's company. He wishes to do the best he can to take on her business once he graduates, though feels pressured to do so.

Trey Clover; A senior at Night Raven, and Riddle's childhood friend. He looks forward to having enjoyable moments with Riddle and the others before graduating and moving on to college.

Cater Diamond; A senior at Night Raven, and a generally easy-going and "people's person" type of guy with a need to make others around him smile. He thought joining a band might be a good way to promote his social media, and an overall nice change of pace.

Deuce Spade; A sophomore at Night Raven, and a former "bad boy", Deuce is looking to redeem himself so that he can have a pleasant and worry-free highschool experience.

Ace Trappola; A sophomore at Night Raven, and a bonafide flirt as well as an active troublemaker/class clown. He thought joining a band might garner him more attention from girls.

SAVANACLAW

A band of three boys looking to make a change, and their voices heard in the world. Struggling with different issues, they decided to come together to form a band.

Leona Kingscholar; A "super" senior at Night Raven, and the second-born son of a recently-deceased millionaire. Feels as if he was cheated out of his "rightful" inheritance, he hopes to vent his frustrations via music.

Ruggie Bucchi; A junior at Night Raven, and a lower-class student who was lucky to make it to the prestigious school in the first place. He joined Leona's band in hopes of getting famous and being able to give back to the struggling community he grew up in.

Jack Howl; A sophomore at Night Raven, he looks up to his seniors and hopes to support their efforts as best he can, and joins Leona's band to put his drumming skills to good use.

OCTAVINELLE

A band formed by three childhood friends hoping to promote the Monstro Lounge, a restaurant gifted to Azul by his parents. Found out that they enjoy performing together as a band, and decide to continue even after the Lounge gains traction.

Azul Ashengrotto; A junior at Night Raven, and a young yet passionate restaurant owner. He hopes to make it in the restaurant business, and formed a "temporary" band with Floyd and Jade to promote the Lounge.

Jade Leech; A junior at Night Raven, and childhood friend of Azul. He wishes the best for his friend, even if it means joining his band and working at his restaurant.

Floyd Leech; A junior at Night Raven, and childhood friend of Azul. A bit of a loose cannon and rather unpredictable, it was a miracle that he agreed to joining Azul's "temporary" band.

SCARABIA

A duo focused on sharing their culture with others, Kalim's only real goal being to make others smile while Jamil tries his best to keep him out of trouble.

Kalim Al-Asim; A junior at Night Raven, and a wealthy foreign-exchange student sent to attend with his servant, Jamil. He thought it would be fun to perform music and pick up an instrument, hoping to spread the joy his culture brings him to others.

Jamil Viper; A junior at Night Raven, and a fellow foreign-exchange student sent to watch over Kalim while they're overseas attending school. He decided to perform with Kalim as to make sure he wouldn't get in any trouble or messy situations, picking up an instrument as well.

POMEFIORE

A band of three boys formed by an agency with the goal of spreading Vil's influence as a celebrity. Clashing opinions oftentimes cause concern for the stability of their band in the long run.

Vil Schoenheit; A senior at Night Raven, and a famous model/social media influencer hoping to dip his feet and test the waters of the music industry. He demanded that the agency only pick him the "fairest" musicians to choose for his band.

Rook Hunt; A senior at Night Raven, as well as a friend and admirer of Vil's. He decided to pick up the bass in the past but never got serious with it until he heard that Vil was looking to form a band, and asked to join.

Epel Felmier; A sophomore at Night Raven, and a candidate hand-picked by Vil's agency. He hates the thought of being seen as fragile and "pretty", and started learning how to play the drums by Jack. He oftentimes has opinions differing from Vil's, and gets irritated easily by arguing with him.

IGNIHYDE

A pair of siblings hiding anonymously behind the alias of "Ignihyde", they work together as a DJ duo.

Idia Shroud; A senior at Night Raven and a textbook shut-in, he has a talent when it comes to technology, and secretly enjoys making his own music in his free time. Prefers to keep to himself, and is viewed as "the strange student", or even as "mysterious".

Ortho Shroud; A child attending the local middle school, he oftentimes comes after school in hopes of Idia opening up more around others. He was involved in an incident that left him missing a leg and needing a prosthetic, oftentimes joking that he's like a robot because of how the prosthetic is modeled. Asks Idia if he can sing for some of his songs, or at least help him with the instrumentals, even if the answer is usually an embarrassed "no".

DIASOMNIA

A band of four who've known eachother for most of their lives and act as family, and are hoping to stay with eachother for many more. They have decided to create slightly altered "personas" to act as onstage.

Malleus Draconia; A college student attending the local university his grandmother works at, in hopes of taking up her place as a professor once she retires as a means of "continuing her legacy", as Lilia jokingly phrases it. His "onstage persona" is a powerful mage and dragon fae who rules over a civilization.

Lilia Vanrogue; An older college student who never had the chance previously to attend, becoming a father and caretaker by the time he was fresh out of highschool. He used to play the bass, but had to prioritize taking care of Silver and Malleus over his own personal hobbies. He thought it might be fun to start a band with Malleus and Silver. His "onstage persona" is a vampire fae who acts as an advisor to the powerful dragon fae in power.

Silver Vanrogue; A junior at Night Raven, he's a rather sleepy and quiet individual who suffers from narcolepsy, even if it isn't immediately obvious. He's rather indifferent to the idea of being in a band with his father (and Malleus, who he somewhat views as an adoptive brother), and his "onstage persona" is that of a knight training to protect and serve the powerful dragon fae ruling over the faerie civilization.

Sebek Zigvolt; A sophomore at Night Raven, he's actually a rather shy and skittish boy when not acting as his onstage persona, though he's taken to adapting it into his regular behavior to fit his tall and intimidating stature. He decided to join his childhood friend, Silver, in Malleus' band, hoping to grow less shy and to impress Malleus, seeing him as an older brother figure. His "onstage persona" is a rather boisterious yet serious knight-in-training, hoping to live up to his master's expectations and more.

EXTRA INFO

- Night Ravens is a group formed by all seven main vocalists to perform a song for homecoming week, as per the request of the oh-so-generous Principal Crowley.

- No magic exists in this AU. Think of it as a sort of "spin-off" BanG Dream! universe.

- The Diasomnia boys still go by their names onstage, though they act differently according to their onstage personas.

- Each dorm name is their band name. For example, Octavinelle would perform regularly at the Monstro Lounge.

- Any boy that might have "strange" or non-human features are human. If they get body modifications (such as the twins with their teeth, perhaps) then they keep it, but Malleus doesn't have horns offstage, the Savanaclaw boys don't have animalistic features, the Octavinelle boys cannot turn into mermen (sea creatures?), and both Idia and Ortho have normal hair, even if it may be dyed.

- Ortho is a normal human boy, though he lost his left leg in a currently unspecified incident that might be delved into at a later point in time. All that will be currently mentioned is that Idia feels immense guilt and like he was the one responsible for it happening.

- In this AU, it isn't specified whether Silver is adopted or if he's Lilia's biological son. Malleus was put into Lilia's care as his parents couldn't be bothered to raise him/make the time to care for him and his grandmother is busy as a well-known and highly-regarded university professor.

- The setting that this AU takes place in is a city based in a country similar to the United States, and works on the United States school system. This is moreso for convenience on my end, though as it is unspecified it can be adapted to other school systems as needed.

- The faculty are all teachers at the school, though Sam runs an on-campus convenience store. Yuu is the insert character, and Grim is an online friend of Yuu who very conveniently happens to attend Night Raven as well.

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tlbodine · 3 years

Text

Things That Do (And Don’t) Sell Books (in my experience)

I’ve just finished reading this book:

I am both amused and a bit disheartened to have read the whole thing and discovered that I knew pretty much everything in it. Amused, because I guess I’ve picked up a lot of knowledge over the years. Disheartened, because it clearly has not led to me becoming the break-away success I always dreamed of. Ah well. Live and learn.

I’m all about transparency in this business, so I wanted to talk honestly for a while about book marketing and what I’ve experienced in terms of what does and does not seem to work. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so chime in with your own experiences!

Branding and Audience

The first third of Burke’s book is dedicated to this aspect, and it’s an important marketing step that’s easy to overlook. The idea is basically that you can’t market a product unless it has a brand identity. To create your brand, you need to do the following:

Identify the audience who you are trying to reach with your work, or who would be most receptive to what you’re writing

Identify your dreams and goals so you have a clear picture in mind of what you want to accomplish

Figure out how to position yourself in such a way that you a.) stand out from the competition but b.) people can still relate to and understand at a glance

Find a way to communicate your brand consistently in terms of the language used, your aesthetic, the way you act online, and so forth.

When it comes to brand-building as an author, I think I’ve got a bit of a corner nailed down. I at least hope to be perceived as someone level-headed, thoughtful, generally positive/empathetic and humanist, but also critical and looking deeper into the meanings of things -- all of which are traits I personally possess and which are baked in to the work I do. In support of that branding, I curate my activity online as best I can: I post things that are of a certain horror aesthetic that I feel overlaps with my own interests/style; I give writing advice and boost people in the community where I can; I wade into discourse selectively and thoughtfully; I give media reviews and analysis that I think would be interesting to like-minded people.

The “identify the audience” part is much harder for me. I’m still honestly not sure who my ideal reader is, or where exactly to go to find my audience. At this point I’m kind of scattering crumbs of myself out into the wind and hoping it will attract people who will, in turn, be interested in the work that I do (and both willing and able to support it financially).

Things I’ve Done With Varying Degrees of Success:

Aforementioned blogging activities. I have slowly but steadily grown my following her on tumblr and other social media sites as well as my author newsletter on substack, but it’s not clear to what extent that following translates into book sales. My writing advice posts vastly out-perform all of my other content, but I haven’t seen compelling evidence that the people interested in my writing advice are especially interested in my fiction -- it seems to be two separate groups, with maybe a sliver of overlap.

Content marketing with more short fiction. This seems like it should be the safest, surest way to find more readers, but it’s time-consuming and discouraging because of the discoverability cycle. My horror flash fiction posts don’t get nearly as many notes as my advice posts. My attempts to get into the big anthologies that pop up have so far amounted to little, although I do need to write more. It’s just that coming up with new ideas and writing them all the time is a lot of work, and if it’s not paying off maybe I’m still better off dedicating that work to my novels.

Sending ARCs to book bloggers/reviewers/booktube etc. I sent out dozens, if not hundreds, of these and got next to no response. I do think part of the problem is that, at the time, I had no Twitter presence, and -- like it or not -- there seems to be a bit of cliqueishness to this aspect of the book world. Now that I’ve spent more time on Twitter ingratiating myself with the horror community, I suspect I’ll have a somewhat easier job securing blurbs and reviews at least from the people in my extended social circle. But I won’t know until I try it again. *I also know I would have greater success with this if I’d been sending paperback ARCs instead of digital. I didn’t, because the cost of buying more author copies + shipping was prohibitive.

Author Newsletter. I maintain mine in conjunction with my Patreon account. I send a monthly news round-up, making a point of shouting out both industry news and the milestones/achievements of others in the community as well as providing what I hope to be value-added or interesting content (in the form of blog posts my patrons vote on). It does OK. I average a couple of new sign-ups per month this way and tend to hover around a 25% open rate, which isn’t terrible. But it’s not great, either, and I won’t know for sure whether any of those opens will actually yield sales at any point.

Interpersonal relationships/community building. Hands down the most successful “marketing” thing I’ve ever done is make friends with people. My writing discord group is small but very close-knit and interacting with them is one of the genuine highlights of my day. I didn’t really make it with mercenary intentions of selling books, but it has directly resulted in sales. Similarly, there are a handful of authors from Twitter and Wattpad that I’ve developed genuine friendships with, and we buy each other’s books and support one another. This whole community aspect is extremely rewarding and I’d do it whether or not it sold books, but it’s also not exactly easy to scale. I can only maintain genuine friendships with so many people.

Posting in reading groups. The books that allow self-promo are so saturated with it that nobody pays any attention. The good groups do not allow self-promo, unless it’s in the form of getting down in the comments and recommending a book on a per-person basis to people looking for a specific thing, and only then if you’re not being spammy. Again, this is time-consuming. You could spend your entire life in these groups, hand-selling books to these people, and maybe picking up a few sales. They do seem like a good place to identify trends, though, so they’re good for market research if not direct selling.

Things I Have Not Done, But Which I Suspect Would Sell Books

Paid promotions. The golden ticket for book sales still seems to be landing a BookBub promo. If you’re unfamiliar, this is where you price your book at 99 cents or free and then pay bookbub to include it in their deals newsletter. Bookbub is very popular and moves a lot of copies. Ideally, you want to set it up so that your cheap book is the first in a series, and people snap that up and then come back to read the rest. This requires you to have written a series. Also bookbub is expensive because these are premium ads. We’re talking hundreds of dollars for one ad. There are other book promos that are cheaper but don’t have the same buy-through rate.

Ads on facebook/amazon. I’m only dimly familiar with the ins and outs of these ads. They can be relatively cheap, but the amount of visibility they have is tied to your budget -- so the more you can spend on a campaign, the better your performance will be.

Calling bookstores/libraries and asking them to order. I should do this. I have not done this purely because I am a coward.

I am not certain what more I can do to promote my books without spending money.

I understand the “spend money to make money” concept, but I also understand the “I have a limited budget and cannot spend it willy nilly on things that still might not actually pay off, especially considering how expensive self-publishing is when you want to do it right.”

...This post ended up in a much more bitter place than I meant for it to. Sorry. I’ll check in if I remember additional points that could be successful strategies.

#writing #publishing #writing advice #publishing advice #writeblr #long post

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the-littlefangirl · 3 years

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TFATWS episode 1 rewatch commentary

The first scene was so beautiful. I loved that we didn't start directly with the fight sequence. It feels way closer to the quiet beginning of CATWS and I love it so much.

The title is also SO NEAT, music's on point too but hey it’s Henry Jackman the one thing I’m sure it’s going to be great overall is the score.

The choreography is AMAZING, really well shot. Sam shielding himself with only one wing was MA-JES-TIC.

“WHAT'S UP” EXACTLY SAM EXACTLY

I did feel so uncomfortable in regards to the military aspect of it. Not that I was expecting anything else, but both here and in Captain Marvel the military we're good guys < 3 propaganda is so blatant and ugh:/ At least there wasn’t a literal recruitment spot like with CM.

The yellow filter in the Tunisia scene BYE please stop with the yellow filters 2k21

"I've been working with the Air Force for six months now" So, did Sam even catch a break at all after Endgame? Or did he just throw himself to work like SOMEONE did after being iced for 70 years. Hmmm? Sam????

"Essentially, these people, they want a world that's unified without borders" OH NO! HOW AWFUL, how evil of these bad guys smh

Joaquin: SO about Steve

Sam: :)))))) nope

"Moon stuff" SAAAM

#1 cry with Sam's speech, full on chills.. Fuck. Me. His voice about to break before saying thank you bYE.

Shady politician: "It was the right decision" (FUCKKKKK YOUUU)

Rhodey: *press any key to doubt *

I need someone to analyze the different curation of the two exhibits pretty please

NOT THE PHOTO POST-AZZANO JFC. That photo is my weakness, Bucky sweetie (also I find hilarious that usually when there are articles about Stucky and/or #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend they aaaalways use that photo LMAO)

In case someone wants to read the transcription of the texts about Bucky: "In 1944, while on a mission to thwart a Hydra weapon transport in the Alps, Barnes was thrown from a train and believed to have been killed in action. It wasn't until 2014, over seventy years later, that it was revealed that Barnes was alive, having been found by Hydra operatives. Captain America himself (i can't read) the effort to bring Barnes in only to later aid in a escape from custody having been convinced of his innocence. Steve's loyalty to his old friend, coupled with his refusal to sign the Sokovia Accords, led to the dissolution of the Avengers and drove the Captain into hiding with other like-minded Avengers including Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Sam Wilson. The current whereabouts of Barnes remains unknown, habing been labeled a fugitive following his escape from custody."

"current wherabout unknown" but not the government, interesting. Also, pretty good summary of CACW from the public's perspective, although one of the things I always wanted to see explored was the public's reaction of the fallout of them going into hiding after Civil War (which I'm hoping we'll get to see a little bit of in Black Widow).

Interesting point about the 70 years without having Captain America. Clearly the sacrifice play wasn't enough this time to fuel the nationalism so they went with a squeaky clean John Walker instead.

Sam saying the shield belongs to Steve I'm going to cry now excuse me. Sam. Sam sweetie.

The No. 1 Captain America comic in the display ugH fuck yes

See this is how you do a cameo that has actual meaning. Thank god for Malcolm Spellman being a competent writer. That scene was so well written.

HAVE YOU PRAISED ANTHONY MACKIE'S PERFORMANCE TODAY?? Holy shit that last shot fucked me up.

I'm loving the use of the wide shots, especially in the flashback. The camera movements are in synch with The Soldier's state of mind and mission focus, so good.

EVERYONE STAND UP FOR THE NATIONAL ANTHEM aka The Winter Soldier theme composed by Henry Jackman.

Without a doubt the most brutal TWS fight scene there has been, People involved in Punisher and John Wick are involved in this and it SHOWS.

For the record, still stands that the only time we've seen him chocking someone with his right hand instead of the metal arm remains the Maria Stark assasination. I know it's probably because of blocking and the way the shot was composed but the implications are still bone chilling. God.

Uhhmmmm I'm very ambivalent about the "Hail Hydra". On one hand, it was 100% fanservice and the internet is probably going to go insane over it, and the dead way Sebastian Stan delivered the line. Good shit. Buuut what I love about CATWS is the way Bucky never, ever ever, mouths Hydra rethoric, and even when Pierce tries to gaslight him with it, it's just an empty effort. The Winter Soldier isn't doing anything because of ideological loyalty to Hydra, even if it's product of brainwashing, it's just sheer dehumanization. They don’t need him to say the words because he’s just An Asset. There are people who have put it more eloquently but yeah, I rather go with the fanon interpretation of that aspect.

The music growing louder with the shot of the keys. GOD.

I'm fine this is fine.

#2 cry with the therapy scene of fucking course.

The government monitoring Bucky is noooot going to end well lmao.

"We need to know that you're not gonna * slowmo stabbing motions *

Bucky: * nodding along slowly *

I laughed out loud.

"It's passive agressive" I love him.

The way this scene just sucker punched me in the face, made me weep and then had me cracking up. Amazing.

Therapist: You can't do anything illegal

Bucky: yup yup check checkity check. What IS considered illegal tho?

*aggresive tablet finger pressing *

"Then why isn't it rule number one?" Bucky your Steve is showing.

I love the close up shot. I'll keep saying it. It's so good.

"I'm James Bucky Barnes" yeah you are🥺

That smile is nightmare fuel LMFAO I love it.

Uhm the way I'm kinning Bucky it's not funny anymore damn

That whole “are you lashing out at me” rambling is really reminiscent of the bar scene in CATFA and how he lashed out at Steve after Peggy left. Uhm yeah fuck.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" "Peace"

"That is UTTER BULLSHIT" "You're a terrible shrink"

yeah ugly crying to ugly laughing speedrun for me

"You're free" "To do what?" jesus. That entire scene. #3 and #4 and #5 cries for moi.

Ugh that Brooklyn shot. Someone needs to do a gifset compairing it to the one in CATFA asap.

"It's like Monique but it's got a "U" in there for uniqueness" "That's absurd" LMAO

"You can't keep fighting with your neighbors" uHM * redacted redacted i'm shifting into 1940s mode abort abort *

"Nobody passed 90" "So young. Such a shame" FGADHGA

🥺🥺 yes flex those flirting skills good for you

"It's a dance to this things. You can't… you gotta warm up and I haven't danced since 1943. Feels like." #6 cry I completely broke down into tears with that.

This Yori storyline is going to punch me in the face with a metal fist. Great!

The TWS theme when he looks at Yori fuuuuuck.

GREAT LET'S GO TO LOUISIANA THAT WAS GETTING HEAVY.

Those shots of Sam in the car. Immaculate. Showstoping. Yes.

Marvel, what if instead of promoting the military industrial complex you put a lot of publicity about cars?

"Uncle Sam!" LMAO subtle.

Everyone trying to have the wings lmao same.

I've only had Sarah for a day but etc. Brooklyn 99 meme

Good mirroring about Steve and Sam family's legacy. Good shit. Goooood shit.

Sam is trying so hard ouch my heart. I can't imagine how painful the scene with them reuniting must have been. He 100% still feels a lot of guilt about being gone for those 5 years (and even longer before that).

"Maybe it is time for us to move on" uuuuuuuuuuh

"To the rescue" "Always" 🥺🥺 i love them so much already

That shot outside the restaurant is so beautiful. Can't wait to see the night scenes in Madripoor tbh.

"I tried the whole online dating thing. It's pretty crazy". Uhm well that is something that Bucky Barnes has now said. In canon. Damn.

"It's a lot" "You sound like my dad" LMAO

Every Bucky fanfic trope speedrun with this scene

"Wow you really can drink" OH you have no idea

Just realized we don't even know her name, well.

"You have any siblings?" "I have a sister" THE WAY I SCREECHED. We're definitely getting Becca

Well that escalated quickly. The important thing is to try?

I can't deal with this BUCKY SWEETIE #8 cry right there fuck

The wardrobe department is KILLING IT, there's such a difference between the outfits of the shows vs how ugly and generic it usually is.

"ThEre is NO such thiNg as on time. You're either EARLY or LATE . picK One" lmao the way he delivered that line

At first I thought the flag smashers had thrown two cars out of a window LMAO

"I don't know how jurisdiction works here, but I'mma have to place you under arrest" uhm yikes. The way they changed Joaquín Torres backstory to just random army nice guy #1 is not sitting well with me, what can I say.

Sam's wings motions I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR

Fuuuuck this guy.

"Funny how thing's always thighten around us" "Look, I'm on your side. After all, he's a hero". This script is C R I S P as hell, great fucking job.

"I don't care, I'm not gonna quit" "What are you trying to prove? And who you trying to prove it to" SHIT HSIT SHIT!!! UGH amazing. Look it's not necessary to say the show's questions out loud but how they flow between the conversations is still very satisfactory without feeling in your face about it. Inner conflicts have been set up fucking perfectly everyone * claps *

Ugh here we fucking go. I knew this was how the episode was going to end but my stomach still dropped like a rollercoster. God.

The score is on point. Damn. Damn.

God, Sam.🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

The captain america franchise's visuals in the credits are always so amazing.

Also, does anybody know why Mackie isn't first in the billing? Uhm what's that about?

ANYWAY CONCLUSION THAT EPISODE WAS SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE HOLY SHIT. I love them so much. The balance between the personal conflicts and the political aspect (although the military aspect is still very much yikes) was on point and it was overall a joy to watch.

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #i'm so happy rn #sorry for the ramblings i just wanted to have it all written down #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #tfatws commentary

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seriouslysam8 · 3 years

Note

Hullo, Sam. I have just finished reading Kalopsia and let me say, it was a wild ride! I loved it very much. I even called in sick to work today so I could stay home and read it.

I have a few more questions, so sorry to bother you again but I hope you will take the time to answer them.

1) I’ve noticed you don’t give Hermione a lot of screen time, do you have something against her? I felt so bad for her when she expressed her worry about not being able to follow Harry and Ron on their adventures anymore. Do you think this was something Hermione actually worried about even knowing how good they are at their job?

2) I know I asked it before in reference to violent crimes, but the cursebreakers, forensic experts, etc. Have you made the department have all of these categories like you can be an Auror cursebreaker or an Auror forensic expert? Does that mean Bill could work for the Auror department if he wanted to or is that a different field of cursebreaking?

3) What is an O-Team? Is that like an A-Team? What does it stand for?

4) The incredible amount of detail you put into the healers work, from the respiratory bubble charms, to beeping charms. Do you have medical experience? It comes across as so realistic. How did you turn it so magical sounding?

5) If Demelza is a junior Auror, what are Harry and Ron? How do you rank the Aurors? I remember in Breanie’s work, A Second Chance. Tonks is an A1 and then moves up to an A3 which I think is the highest level. Is your system the same? What did you base it on?

6) That’s twice now I’ve noticed you mention Ron as a baker. Why a baker over a chef? Why food at all? Is that a secret dream you think Ron has? Why does he continue to be an Auror?

7) I love that Demelza calls Harry and Ron husbands! Sutton is the best Auror next to Ron and Harry? Who is Demelza’s partner? How come Sutton doesn’t have a partner? Why is Demelza’s partner crappy?

8) Sympathy cravings? Pre-baby weight? I need to know more about Ron during Hermione’s pregnancy! What was he like?

9) Ron sure likes to tall about and to shake his arse. Is he really that vain about it or did someone (namely Hermione) comment that he has a great arse and he just never let it go? I fully support that if that’s the case.

10) Who is Montgomery? Who is Holmes? What Auror positions are they? Who is Reed?

11) You’ve mentioned the Dursleys a few times now, but we haven’t seen them since Croup, will we see the Dursleys at all? Or at least Dudley? Does Harry stay in contact with them? Do his kids know them?

12) So far, you haven’t once mentioned Charlie. Will we get to see him? Does he ever come back from Romania in your story? Is he married or have kids?

Thank you again. Sorry to bother you. Thank you.

1. I’m not the biggest Hermione fan. I find her character quite annoying, if we’re being honest. Plus, I find her difficult to write. So, she’s always a background character. I think naturally she worries about Ron and Harry because they have such dangerous jobs. Ginny worries as well. I think, given the nature of their jobs, it would be hard not to worry.

2. I’m theory, yes, I suppose Bill could work as a forensic cursebreaker, but the training would be different. I think it’s much like in the Muggle world, you can go down different career paths with a single job title. I saw you read about the medical cursebreaker as well. Bill would be more qualified to work for the Aurors than with St. Mungo’s. Medical is a different ballgame.

3. Yes, it’s like the A-Team. It’s O for Outstanding, the highest grade you can receive at Hogwarts. They’re the O-Team.

4. No, none at all. I just research a lot. And I just did turn it magical? Sometimes, it’s hard so I talk it through with Brie or with a beta. Sometimes I think of it on my own. It’s always a process though.

5. I feel like my ranks are pretty simple. There’s trainees, junior Aurors, and senior Aurors. Ron and Harry would be senior Aurors. It’s based off of solve rate, experience, performance. It’s not like a set year and you switch over. I didn’t really base it on anything.

6. I think having Molly Weasley as a mother, you’d be a pretty good baker and/or chef. I picture Ron as a good baker and Ginny as a good cook. I think Ron would enjoy being a baker but he also enjoys being an Auror. I think the job bothers him at times so he says he’s rather be a house husband or a baker, but he generally likes his job and loves working with Harry.

7. Ron and Harry do act like husbands. I would say Sutton is probably one of the best Aurors, he’s very good at his job and well respected. To be honest, I don’t think I ever gave Demelza’s partner a name or really developed him besides he’s a bit of an idiot. He’s just not a very good Auror and Demelza just kind of leaves him in the dust a lot until she gets a new partner when she rises to the rank of senior Auror and they still stay a junior. Funny you should ask about Sutton’s partner. I had his partner retire around Kalopsia so he was partnerless for a little bit. When Demelza gets promoted after Kalopsia to senior Auror, she actually gets paired with Sutton. I wanted Demelza and Sutton to eventually become partners because he really lets her take the reigns on cases and let’s her shine and move up.

8. Ron was dramatic while Hermione was pregnant. He’d say stupid shit like, “Oh yeah, Hermione and I are eating for two.” Or “Hermione and I craved some bangers last night.” He was 100% invested in the pregnancies and sympathized with Hermione’s plights to the point where he got a tad annoying.

9. Hermione made a comment and Ron just can’t let it go. He does have a fine, fine arse though.

10. Montgomery Reed is a senior Auror, around Sutton’s age (both are roughly 10 years older than Harry and Ron). Holmes is Demelza’s rank, a junior Auror.

11. Harry is only in contact with Dudley. They get together once or twice a year, their kids know each other, and they’re on decent terms. As you know, Harry sees Petunia briefly in Discomposure. She also makes a short appearance in Brontide. You will see Dudley in Legerdemain.

12. Charlie is still in Romania. Not married, no kids. I don’t think he ever makes an appearance? If it does, it’s just a mention he’s there. He just chills in Romania doing his own thing, managing a dragon reserve.

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closer-stars · 4 years

Text

Gut Feeling (3)

Member: San Genre: Comfort, Fluff, some Angst Word Count: 9.5k Requested: Yes Content: Part 3 of Gut Feeling/San x Manager!Reader series ayooo. Roughly around Inception/Immortal Songs time period. Food mention. References to some of the stuff they’ve written for the fans also are in this lol. Reader comforts San also in this. The fun kinda starts here. Note: pls this was tricky to write and edit... lmao, gotta juggle manager work with relationships amirite. Anyways, I hope this is okay cause this was... A Field Day. Not much else to say except hahaha Flashes a Peace Sign. I’ve proofread this a couple of times, and to just specify again, I’m trying to keep this gender neutral, so if there’s a slip up of gender specific traits and the like, please do tell me. Ty to @hwaberrykiwi , @yeocult and @yeochikin for dealing with my brain farts and questions as I wrote this. ilysm

Part 1, Part 2

It’s been hectic for everyone in the company. Everyone’s been almost up to their necks preparing for the comeback. Various deals to be made for various photoshoots; it was a miracle that some brands have invited the boys for their magazines rather than the other way around. Despite their lengthy hiatus, it seemed their popularity only continued to grow. It wasn’t a bad thing (at least they managed to catch up on rest), the pressure to make sure they make up for what was lost is there and perhaps an added burden.

Everyone’s been working harder to make sure their performances for their promotional period were good, if not better than how they did in the past. You haven’t been running on your usual hours of sleep-- save for a few power naps here and there, having to bring the boys back and forth from the company to stylists to the dorm to recordings and so on. You can only assume that it’ll get wilder once promotions do start. Yet, the gradual climb of their activities is met with mixed feelings: relief to be back on stage, worry for everyone’s health, pressure to meet not only the standards of the public but also theirs.

So now, San’s overthinking once more, getting caught up in his insecurities. The closer their comeback is, the later he stays. While he always does stay in the studio up until he can barely dance properly, the past few weeks have been harsh on him. You’ve only been with this group for a few months but you can already read him. He’s always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s also the type to find himself being his own competition. He’s focusing on his shortcomings as a dancer, frustrated that there were certain parts that he couldn’t do properly. You’re in the studio with him again. With the amount of times you’ve done this, you’ve eventually blocked off parts of your schedule for him. The rest of the boys have gone home at this point, catching up on rest to prepare for the next day.

You sit back, taking small sips of your iced green tea as you watch helplessly as San goes through the same counts, never quite getting it the way he wants to. “San..” you call softly.

“Just give me thirty minutes.” This is the sixth time he’s said it. He hears your heavy sigh and he looks at you, brows furrowed, still too engrossed by the demons in his head. “What?” He rasps out. It’s a miracle you could hear each other over the music but you do. With his question, you beckon him over. He sighs, stopping the music before standing in front of you. You pat the seat next to you. He doesn’t fight back and drops himself next to you. “What?” he repeats himself.

“You’re getting in your head again.”

Your words catch him off guard but he tries to scoff at it. A feeble attempt to brush off your words. Was he that easy to read?

“San, I’m serious. In the time I’ve worked with you, I know when you’re getting into your head.” You say it clearer this time. “Talk to me.” You say though it sounds more like a plea. He’s a stubborn one. You readjust yourself to face him, your drink now in between your legs as you reach for his water bottle. “Maybe not as your manager but as your friend.” You just wanted to help him, as much as his stamina is better than anyone you know, he’s still human.

San’s head rests against the white wall, the cold feeling of the wall cooling down how hot his head has become from constant exertion. He can still feel the muscle soreness from his workout from two days ago. “There’s so much on my mind.” He murmurs, gnawing slightly at the rim of his water bottle in thought.

“We got time.” You return softly.

He doesn’t know what to say. It’s not an everyday thing that he talks of his worries. He’s been the type to carry the burden of others but rare were the times he lets others carry his burdens. He lets your words sink in first as he tries to figure out with thought to speak out about first. He takes small sips to gather enough words to sound cohesive despite the incohesive thoughts. He sets his bottle down and that’s when he starts talking. He’s not happy with how he’s dancing lately. He sees how better Yunho is compared to him, how quick he gets the choreography. While San does know how to help others, asking for help for himself is another thing in itself.One way or another, he figures it out on his own. A blessing and a curse it was to be this independent. “...There’s so much I lack in, I don’t think I’ll live up to their expectations too.” His eyes are closed the entire time he speaks, not wanting you to see that he’s near tears. It’s one part pride, one part insecurity, one part pressure, and a whole lot of perfectionism. The fact he manages to talk about it is a step out of it but the struggle to get through it is another thing.

It pains you to see him like this. No matter how much he improves, he still sees where he lacks. It’s normal but to see him have his insecurities eat at him hurts you. “San, look at me.” You urge softly. He doesn’t move but you notice that his breathing has slowed down. You do know he’s still awake so you tilt his head to make him look at you. “Look at me, open your eyes, San.” It’s the gravity in your words and tone that makes him follow your order. He sees his reflection in your eyes and for a moment, he’s stunned. The distance, or lack thereof, is disorienting him. He’s never seen you this intense-- well he has, but not like this, this protective that he can’t get himself to move or look away. He could easily shake your hold off or look at a corner but he can’t.

Goddamn, what is going on?

“San, you’re amazing out there. Everyday, you improve. Everyday, you take everyone’s breath away with how much you put yourself into your performances. The performer I saw months back has improved to become the performer he is now. But San, you’re still a human at the end of the day. It’s okay to go at your own pace. ” Your words make his chest tight. Those were the same words he tells his members and his fans. He knows the turmoil of putting yourself up in a competition where you’re the only player yet he always does it even if it hurts him. But the feeling of having someone say it back to him, it feels different. It’s words he needed to hear not from him, but from someone else. To hear it from you washes over him in mind numbing comfort. “It doesn’t matter if Yunho gets it before you do, or if you don’t do it perfectly in the first try.” You continue, the pad of your thumb wiping away the tears that have fallen from his eyes. “What matters is you’re improving. San, you’re still human. It’s okay.” You’ve heard the stories of how they started as trainees over meals you’ve shared with them. From one trainee who couldn’t dance properly to being the idol that others look up to for their passion in dancing. He’s become the standard from what you were observing.

Your words make him rest his forehead against your shoulder. In other circumstances, you would’ve made a face at the feeling of sweat seeping onto your shirt. For now, you hold him, rubbing his back gently as he quietly cries out his frustrations. There were things he wished he could share these concerns with Seonghwa but he couldn’t. He never could. Yet, here he is, showing his vulnerability to you. Someone who he has only known for a few months. Someone who he has become vulnerable around. Even in his blubbering incoherent mess of thoughts, you somehow manage to be on the same page as him, bringing him back to reality, bringing him the clarity he needs.

It takes a while before his sniffles even into breathing. You tilt your head to check on him and he pulls away when he feels you shift. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles, wiping his tears away.

You shake your head, turning down his apology. Your eyes shine gently at him as you study him carefully. Damn, even your eyes feel a little hot. His shoulders aren’t as heavy as they were earlier. His hands reaching up to rub at his eyes. It wouldn’t be long now before exhaustion takes him under to slumber. “Let’s go home, you deserve the rest.”

“Can we get something to eat first…” He asks, just in time for his stomach to growl in agreement.

“7/11?”

He nods, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.

“Get some comfort food, I’ll pay for it this time.”

--------

The ride back is relaxed this time, well as relaxed it could be when San’s in a better mood. San sings at the top of his lungs to the songs that play on the radio. It’s tricky to keep yourself serious on the road when he’s being this carefree. It comes to the point where even you sing along with him, though softly. A small voice in your head sulks at how this is short lived. By the time you reach the apartment complex, it’s back to reality. It’s back to being their manager. Somehow you wondered if in another life, would the two of you meet as well? Would the two of you get along still? You shake the thoughts away quickly, mentally reminding yourself to focus.

“Something on your mind?”

You wonder if you’re just as easy to read as he is to you. “Mm?” You glance at the stop light then turn your gaze to him. The question takes a moment to register then you reassure him. “Ah, it’s nothing.” He doesn’t get the chance to press when the red shifts to green, pushing you to start driving again.

It was quiet for the rest of the trip, until you arrived at the parking lot again. Once you switch the engine off, he lets out a groan of relief. The sweet embrace of sleep is so close, if only he could just be in bed with a snap of his fingers but alas, this world is dependent on machinery. The two of you hop off the car and head to the elevator.

You press his floor number and he waits for the second button to be pushed but it never happens. The doors of the elevator close already and is already bringing the two of you to his floor. “Wait, but--”

You cut him off. “You need your sleep first so I’m dropping you off first.” You glance at him under the cold lighting of the elevator. “Even your eyes look tired already, Sannie.” He catches his reflection on the elevator’s reflective surface and you’re right. His eyes are puffy, his eyelids are heavy and he makes a face at how he looks. You glance at your watered down green tea then at his hands. “Are your hands cold?” You ask him.

The odd question catches him off guard and instead of feeling them, he wraps his hands on your cheeks. “What do you think?” The sharp contrast in temperatures causes you to yelp, swatting his hands away.

“I was gonna tell you to press your cold fingers to the puffy areas!” You complain, trying to stay far from his reach.

It takes a moment for realization to set in his eyes. “Oh my god, you called me Sannie!” He squeals, elated to know that your relationship has gotten to the point where you call him a nickname. A common nickname but he loves it coming from you. You laugh behind your cup and the fun is cut short with the doors opening.

You keep the doors open for him. “Come on, Sannie.” You repeat just for him. “Get your rest. Manager Bae will be bringing you guys to the company and your schedules tomorrow.” You inform him, still smiling at how happy he looks now.

“What about you?”

“Paperwork plus bringing the rest of the staff to check out the places for your music videos.” You coo at the sight of his pout. “I’ll bring you guys home if I get back early, I promise.”

“Ah before I forget..” you rummage through your bag and pull out his hoodie. “Here.” You state as you hand it back to him. The look on his face makes you a little defensive. “I promise, I washed your hoodie before returning it.” Your words make him chuckle and he puts it in his bag.

“I wasn’t saying anything, but thank you.” He teases but then extends his pinky out as he steps out, bringing it back to the topic at hand. His free arm blocking the doors from closing in on the two of you. You don’t bat an eyelash as the child-like reassurance, you link your pinky with his, sealed with your thumbs pressed against each other.

“Now shoo! Sleep well, Sannie.” You say, pressing your floor number this time, as the two of you smile at each other until the doors completely cover the other.

--------

Everything's moving so fast. For every music show that had to be cancelled, two more guest appearances take over. You were ready for the constant moving being a manager entails but not to this extent. After this performance, you had to bring them to their next radio appearance. At least there was an allowance time to bring them back to the company then to the radio appearance. You were a little relieved though, since the talk with San, he’s been able to perform with a clearer head. You watch each member perform and you need multiple runs to watch each and everyone of them. They always had little tricks in their sleeves that more often than not, you weren’t sure which ones they would do until the day of. While you know that they wouldn’t cry in the middle of a performance, a small part of you was alarmed at how believable they looked.

The results of their hard work were evident, various news sites have been tracking their growth, and before they knew it, they’ve sold over a million albums, their songs are charting upon release. They’ve improved immensely and it was getting tricky to not let yourself go “I told you so.” to San who months earlier was in his head, doubting everything. Hell you remember even having to talk to Hongjoong on the ride home over his fears for his members and himself.

The stylists had their phones out recording the announcement. As much as you want to do the same, you found yourself fiddling with your sleeves, nervous as well. They always take their loses gracefully as said by the managers but still you worry. As intense as they were with their work, they can be intense with their emotions too. Once it was announced that ATEEZ is indeed taking home the trophy for Inception, everyone screams. You let out the breath you were holding the entire time in relief, and you feel pride swell in your chest. Everyone celebrates in the dressing room over their first win. You could see how the group is doing their best to keep their cool in front of the cameras but you can already expect the amount of excited screams and jumps from them. Manager Bae and some of the stylists had gone out to quickly get them cake to celebrate when they return. “Stay here so that they won’t notice anything off.” Bae goes with a grin. He looked like a proud hyung for the boys, still giddy over the win. You quickly push him off to buy the cake, losing precious time.

You watch them on TV, singing to their song as they bounce about on stage. They’ve thanked everyone as they dance about. You see Manager Bae with another stylist lighting the cake in the back of the room and you sigh in relief. At least they got back in time for the credits to roll on the TV, evidently cutting short the encore stage. Yet, you know those boys would take a while before they’re back in the dressing room with everyone. “You got back fast..” You say softly, making sure the candle doesn’t get blown off from any external factors.

“We asked to have the cake packed already, Minhee paid for it and made me go ahead.”

“We have to pay her back then.”

“Hey don’t worry too much, she used the company card.” That shuts you up. ATEEZ’s excited yelling elicits a surprised yelp upon their entrance. They yell louder at the sight of the cake and this time you bring out your phone to capture the moment of celebration. It takes a while for them to settle down, taking selfies with their trophy along with a group shot to thank the fans for their hard work. The cake is back in its packaging, Seonghwa bouncing on the balls of his feet while he has the cake in his hands.

“Aah, Hyung be careful! What if the cake gets destroyed?” San complains lightheartedly to which Seonghwa sulks for a moment.

“What are you talking about?” The older returns, hints of his accent slipping out in his defense. “The cake’s secure inside, right Manager-nim?” He continues, looking at you to back him up.

The way he looks at you really makes you wonder how he was the eldest sometimes but you decide to play along. “It’s safe and sound in there, Ddeonghwa but still, be careful!” You return, patting the top of his head, or at least whatever you could reach as you busy yourself with packing everything up.

“Manager-nim! We did great on stage didn’t we?” San asks from behind you, wanting a head pat or some praise from you as well. To his luck, you had to be called to help out in carrying some make up bags out of the room as the stylist’s hands were already full. He deflates for a moment as you rush about, leaving him in the dust with his members.

“You’re getting obvious.” Seonghwa muses as he pats the younger’s head with his free hand.

His words fluster him, his bottom lip jutting out once more. “What are you talking about..” He mutters through a pout. He just wanted praise, is that so bad?

His defense makes the older chuckle. “Sure. Let’s get ready to leave, we still have a radio appearance tonight. Our managers are gonna wait for us by the parking lot.”

--------

As the promotion season progresses, you don’t keep track of the days anymore. You just keep track by the agenda for the day and for the following day, you’re just waiting for the promotions to end at this point. You’re getting sleep but it’s not enough, just to get by and still function. You’re still getting the basic necessities of a human being but you hate to admit that you need more to feel a little more awake.

San notices your lack of energy as they wait for their call time for their next TV appearance so while the other members busy themselves with a few games. He sees you dozing off again, leaning against the wall as you keep yourself warm with your own jacket this time. He doesn’t ask if you’re doing okay, your eyebags and tensed muscles tell him enough. He sits next to you as you try to find a comfortable position to catch up on rest. “You can lean on my shoulder.” He says softly, making sure to not startle you. Regardless of his volume, you sit up straight again at his voice. You don’t make a coherent word come out of your mouth except for something that sounds like a mix of “I’ll be okay” and “No thanks”. One way or another, you found a position comfortable enough for you to not get a stiff neck and stay warm. He lets you do what you do and instead lingers near you in case you fall into an uncomfortable position.

An hour passes and you wake up to your phone vibrating to wake you up. You shuffle about in your spot, stretching your limbs as you try to gain your bearings. The presence of another person next to you makes you wary of stretching too much, until you look over at them and you see San dozing off in his seat. You look around you and some of the members have dozed off as well, though the rest of them were in comfortable positions. You bundle your jacket up and carefully put it under his head. You pick up on his soft snores before slipping out of the room quietly. Your feet lead you to the nearest vending machine, looking for your pick me up throughout the day. As you count your loose change to pay for the coffee, someone’s voice startles the living daylights out of you.

“Coffee again?”

You turn to the voice and it’s San, who clearly looks like he just woke up but can’t rub his eyes. Instead, he takes his time blinking repeatedly to rid the sleep off from his gaze. “What? This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me drink coffee.”

“That’s going to be your fourth coffee..” He points out, and you can hear in his voice that he’s waking up now. He’s also a little concerned by your gradual rise in caffeine intake. His concern doesn’t faze you as you continue with your purchase.

“At least I don’t drink Americanos..” you say with a light tone. The last thing he needs to worry is about your health. You’ve been in worse situations and this isn’t that bad still. “San, I’m still okay, I promise.” You try to reassure him, though it seems that he doesn’t buy it. For now, he lets it be.

“At least I don’t confuse an americano with a latte.” He returns with a smirk He remembers your mishap a few weeks back of mixing up his americano with your latte. The face you pulled after getting hit with the bitterness, only to realize that he has your order. It was a small mistake but looking at it now, it was probably the start of your stress. His retort makes you look at him, miffed at the idea he would use that against you. He sees your reaction and is already ready to apologize until he hears you laugh. You turn on your heels and head back to your designated room and it takes him a few minutes to snap out of it and follow you. “I’m serious though. That’s your fourth coffee and you haven’t been sleeping a lot.” San points out softly, greeting any artist or staff that they pass by.

You greet them too, but your bottom lip is against the rim of your coffee in thought. “I’m still getting used to the new environment. You have to admit the cancellation of other shows and the additional guestings are disorienting too.”

You had a point but that wasn’t what he was getting at. “Manager-nim, what I’m saying is, please take care of yourself too.” The two of you reach the door and before any of you step in, you look up at the male, and he can see how your brain is working.

“I will, now let’s get inside, they might worry where you’ve been.” You say eventually and before you could open the door, he beats you to it and lets you enter first.

He hopes you keep your word.

--------

On the free days they had, they were back in the studio rehearsing for another performance. They already knew of the offer and without hesitation accepted it. Win or lose, this was a big thing for them. While you managed their schedules with the other managers, you also had to juggle keeping track of the logistics of their stage design. The idea they have is an ambitious one you had to admit, rare do you see idol groups going this far but they did carry the philosophy of performing as if this stage will be their last.

A small issue comes up in their stage planning, the dresser already got the green light but they worry about the prop to drive in the theme. The various lipstick shades offered to them didn’t quite stand out to them, hell even the make up artists were a little torn on which one would be best. “Just mix two shades or textures.” You suggest. While you had a fair knowledge of make up, it’s not up to par with those who have this as their profession. The suggestion you had given had already taken into account the dark and harsh lighting they’d pull for the stage. While you carry your laptop everywhere you go, you also have some copies of your paperwork in your phone-- just to save your back and shoulders from unnecessary pain. Would glossy finish work to bring it out? Shit, which red shades would even be a stark difference against San’s skin. “Technically this would also mean San has one shot in doing this.” Your head was swimming with thoughts and you rub your eyes as the exhaustion still hangs over you. You wanted the best for the boys in any situation. Him and Jongho were going to carry the atmosphere and they had to make it work. You stare at the shades of red that marked the back of San’s hand. You had to admit, it reminded you of your hand whenever you went out with the makeup artists.

The make up artists suddenly perk up at the suggestion, an idea quickly forming in their head, they grab San’s hand to look for the two shades that were the closest to what they had brainstormed. Once they found it, they made a note of which shades and decided to try and hunt for it. San looks at you, thoroughly thankful for your suggestion as it had solved their last issue. “As expected from Manager-nim’s brain.” Hongjoong praises and you flash a small smile. You take note of the final list of everything from their outfits to the lighting and props. You have to send this list by tonight and you only have three hours before the deadline. Talk about clutch.

As they rush about you, you settle yourself on the bench, typing away furiously at your near dying laptop. Maybe you only had thirty minutes before the deadline at this rate. You read the details outloud to everyone, making sure you didn’t leave anything out. Fifteen minutes after small edits. Once satisfied, you send the files to the producers and close your laptop, relieved to have one thing crossed off your list. Manager Bae senses your exhaustion and eyes the boys. “I’m driving tonight anyways, go and eat your dinner already and catch up on sleep until we need to bring them home.”

You don’t go against his words this time and keep your laptop in your bag. “Watch over my stuff, I’ll grab something at the 7/11 downstairs. Want anything?” He shakes his head and you don't push your offer as he returns his focus on the boys. You only bring your wallet and your phone. Your earphones are drowning out how your brain begs for rest. Once in the store, you pick the first thing your stomach can tolerate from the lack of rest and for once you skip on the coffee and opt to grab the orange juice. A small attempt at staying healthy.

You’re back in the company, eating your sandwich as carefully as possible and even through your earphones you can hear them rehearsing. The clock tells you it’s somewhere past midnight, you don’t know where the arm is, you just know it’s past twelve and you’re beyond exhausted. Once you finished with your sandwich you head back to the studio, the boys just a few counts away from the ending. Carefully, you slide your way to the bench with Manager Bae watching over them. “Did I miss anything?” You ask as you twist open your orange juice.

He shakes his head. “They’re wrapping up in an hour and a half.” That makes you settle in your seat, taking small sips of your juice. The way it makes you feel a little lighter is concerning but you push forward. As long as you have your sense of taste, you’re fine. As they finish up for the night, you’re already zoning out, your fingers dragging themselves against the edges of the bottle to keep yourself awake.

You snap out of it every now and then. When you do, your eyes go to Jongho and Seonghwa, the two members who had just recovered from their injuries. They storm through the long rehearsal, they’re also the last ones standing as they walk around after the intensive run. The others already on the floor breathing heavily. Manager Bae snaps you out of your thoughts when the choreographers start packing up. Time to end the day.

You pull up some of the members who seem to have become one with the floor. Sometimes having to use both hands from how they’re dragging their own weight down. “Boys, we’re going home. Come on.” You grunt amidst their whines of a few minutes to rest. San gets up without your help but helps you pick up the other members. You count the members, looking for the missing two. You glance over and you see Seonghwa has busied himself making sure Hongjoong goes home tonight. Once satisfied, you hoist your bag over your shoulder, stretching your tired body. “That’s all eight.”

San looks over at you, your eyes looking a lot heavier than usual. “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, pulling off his beanie to ruffle his hair.

His question confuses you, how sudden it is to ask someone about their schedule for the following day, especially if their schedule technically revolves around them. “Yes, why? Do you need me to bring you somewhere?” You ask, as you wait for everyone to leave the studio.

“Sleep in.” He says and that’s the only time you stared at him. The incredulous look on your face makes him sigh. “Hey, Manager-hyung. Does Manager-nim have a day off soon?” San asks Manager Bae and you shift your gaze to the mentioned man.

The man looks at San with a raised eyebrow. “Yes because otherwise that would be concerning.” Just as San was about to say something to add to that, you cut him off.

“San, do not.” You actually don’t know what he was about to say exactly but you were not going to let him tell you when to rest. “I already made my day offs on the days after your promotion cycle, and I’m not changing that. I’ll just come to work a little later tomorrow.” It’s a compromise to ease his protective instincts kicking out. You sense that Seonghwa has been waiting for the two of you, not wanting to leave you behind. “Come on, Seonghwa’s already waiting for us.” With that, you make your way to him, already starting small talk with him and Hongjoong.

San trails behind you, watching you chat with his hyungs without a worry, as if your head wasn’t spinning a few moments ago. He wonders if you’ve caught feelings for one of his hyungs. You did spend more time with them for various reasons. Was it Hongjoong or was it Seonghwa? Deep in his thoughts, he lingers around Yunho as everyone heads towards the car, trying his best to not always look at you. Even if he doesn’t, thoughts run in his head, thinking back to times you’ve interacted with Seonghwa or Hongjoong. In his head, it seemed that you and Seonghwa were more believable than you and Hongjoong. You’ve shared a few moments with Seonghwa in the past. Unknowingly, his brows scrunch up at how his thoughts have led him to such a conclusion but he keeps it to himself. The chatter in the car has mellowed down to tired sighs and soft hums: sounds not enough to drown or push away the thoughts that tangle themselves in his head. So he turns up the volume in his earphones, anything to distract himself from the thoughts. The songs that play are their latest songs and the final version of their remake. While he can’t dance in the car, he closes his eyes and visualises how he wants to do the stage. It doesn’t take much time before he falls asleep on the way home.

The murmurs and sighs eventually became even breathing and soft snoring from the boys. You and Manager Bae softly discussing the next schedules and shifts. “Is it alright if I come in a little late tomorrow? I just really need to catch up on rest.” You tread carefully with the question. Promotions have already on their way and you’re already asking for a small break.

“It’s fine. I can cover for you until you arrive.” He reassures. “What time do you plan to come in?”

Your phone unlocks under your touch and you look at the calendar. “1 PM. I’ve done all the paperwork and logistical work for their Immortal Songs appearance and other radio appearances. I’m just waiting on the replies from the producers to relay to externals.” Somehow you manage to finish the last of your orange juice. Looks like you’re grabbing hot tea instead of your usual iced coffee tomorrow.

The man next to you nods at your word. “You’ve been working hard lately too, it’s okay to rest every now and then.” He says with a laugh. “No wonder you and the boys get along.” The road in front of you is near empty, just a few taxis carrying businessmen tired from a long day of work and drinks. “But honestly, don’t stretch yourself too thin. If there’s anything you can’t do, Manager Yoon or I can help you.”

The words touch you for a moment that you tip your head in thanks. “Yes, I’ll try my best.” Despite your sluggish feeling, you stay awake on the way home.

--------

You arrive at the apartment complex with Manager Bae and you waking up the boys who have fallen asleep. They only had to be told that they’re at the apartment already to wake up and make their way to the elevator. San was the last to wake up-- as expected, and you were the last one with him, as usual. “Sannie, wake up. We’re home.” You say softly as you shake him awake. He doesn’t reply. “San, wake up. I can’t carry you.” Again, silence. You sigh and look through your contacts, about to call Yunho to help you wake him up. “San, if you don’t wake up I’m leaving you in this parking lot to sleep.” His eyes open at that threat. “San, I swear…” you trail off with a sigh, somehow you can’t get mad at his antics. He slides out of the car and with that you lock the car up, making sure everything else is secure.

This time he brings you to your apartment first. He didn’t take a no for an answer, typical of him. The two of you quietly let the elevator bring you up to your designated floor. On the usual, you and San would be talking about the day or whatever was in his mind. This time, it was quiet. You stand next to him, and you lean your head against his shoulder, a long exhale of relief slipping through your lips. “You’ve worked hard, you know?” You say softly, his eyes on the display as the number goes up. “You’ve done a lot too, Strawberry.” The nickname came because of how your phone case had strawberry prints all over it. Along with your excitement for anything strawberry flavored.

No wonder you and Seonghwa got along so well.

You smile at his words. “Thank you. You did amazing today too.” You return softly. Your words make him smile as well. He wishes the trip to your floor was slower, just to make the most out of moments like this.

He kind of hopes that you don’t feel how hard his heart is pounding now.

The elevator rings cutting the moment short and you stand up straight again. He doesn’t stay in the elevator this time. He opts to walk with you to your apartment. You look at him, a quiet question at him walking you to your apartment but he gives you no answer. Despite that, you aren’t scared. “Sannie, if you’re worried that I won’t rest, I will.” You start. “I’m coming to work at 1PM so it’s Manager Bae or Yoon bringing you guys to the company tomorrow.” You hand the car keys to him to give to either manager tomorrow.

A sigh of relief comes out of him at your words. Without the cameras, he mellows down. “That’s good. I’ll see you later in the day then.” He says as he makes his way back to the elevator as you take a step into your safety.

“Also, San?”

He stops in his tracks and looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Thank you for taking care of me too. Please take care of yourself too.” You don’t think that he’s been a factor to you being able to keep yourself together. It’s part of your job to keep your shit together even in high amounts of stress but his concern for you warms you greatly. He's become a part of why you managed to keep yourself together for this long too.

He smiles at your words and hopes you sleep peacefully for the night. It’s been a long day for everyone. The last thing you see is his warm smile and back before you let yourself retreat into the comforting safety of your home. You figured that seeing his smile to end the day wasn’t so bad.

--------

Everyone’s nervous for the stage, even you, but you can’t show your nerves. There’s enough nerves going about in this room for the ten of you. Their stylists are the first to arrive at their room, and everything goes on like clockwork. This time it was you and Manager Yoon who took over this shift. The previous days of rehearsal were really just to make sure the clothes fit them right along with the props. Everything they've prepared for has led to this day. As much as they are hungry for the win, the mere idea of them being in the same room and performing on the same stage as big names was incredibly humbling and overwhelming for them.

The director gives them a run through of the schedule for the night which could stretch over to past midnight. In your bag were a few copies of their albums that they would give to the seniors and fellow idols, and you wondered how fans could carry so many albums when the albums in your bag was already your workout for the day. Seonghwa shuffles over to you after the director lets them get ready for the recording.

“Let me take these from you.” He says softly as the rest of you enter the room.

“Seonghwa!” He manages to get your bag off your hands and sets it down within your reach.

“Even I know they’re too heavy to carry for prolonged periods of time.” The male quips and you can’t help but sigh a little at his thoughtful actions. Glad to see that even without cameras, they’re still the same kind hearted boys.

You wave him off, handing his clothes to get ready for the long night ahead of them. “Now go change and get ready, you got a stage to tear down.” You watch him walk off to get changed and you catch San looking at your direction, as if too deep in thought. It takes awhile for you to snap him out of his thoughts. “Are you okay?” You ask once he gets back to reality.

He blinks for a few moments, a little startled by the sudden lack of distance. “H-huh? Yeah.” The answer stumbling out of his mouth. He’s not gonna admit that he saw you and Seonghwa talk the entire time. The shaky answer musters a small smile from you. You hand him his clothes, gently pushing him to the dressing room. “Come on, go get ready. Show everyone what you guys got.” You hope he doesn’t catch the soft meow you let out as a joke to lift his spirits. Yet he does, take it from someone who’s a complete cat person to catch anything cat related. Once the meow lands on his ears, he smiles so brightly.

“Ah! So cute!!” He squeals softly, his dimples making an appearance but he listens to you nonetheless. Even when his thoughts are in such a disarray, your words don’t fail to bring him peace even for a while. He can’t get himself to be bitter if someone else makes you happier than him. As long as you’re happy, shouldn’t that be enough? But he's greedy, he wants you to be happy because of him too. He’s also aware of how selfish that sounds and he's disgusted by how self centered he can be.

Once he leaves you alone with the rest of the staff, you bring out the albums, arranging them for when they visit the rest of the artists later on. One by one the members come out of the dressing room, fully dressed for their stage. One third of the magic is done, you were looking forward to how they’d look minutes before being called on stage. Now you can’t be in that part of the stage, only seeing the cuts through the monitor in the room. Once that was all finished, they’re ushered to the room where the magic begins. You and Manager Yoon give them supportive words as they leave the room.

The recording goes by without a hitch but god was it long. You and Manager Yoon often went out to grab food or drinks for the staff in the same room as them to stay awake, even for the boys during the long breaks in between shoots. You didn't want to admit it out loud but you wish the shoot goes by quickly, but that was wishful thinking. There’s so much to record that goes on in this show and you know the boys can’t and wouldn’t complain. Being in a room with the legends, as San would say, is already an honor in itself. Performing in front of all of them? Another honor. You can only assume that the boys are going through so much emotions that they have to keep in control in front of the cameras.

Everyone’s given a two hour break to eat dinner and freshen themselves up in time for the second half of the shoot. It doesn’t take the boys ten minutes to barge into the dressing room, still energized, if not more. The management was able to bring the entire room their dinner with some refreshments. As if they weren’t already loud, the sight of their meals made their voices boom through the room.

It’s clear in Seonghwa’s eyes that he has to keep in mind his portions. While you respect his decisions, he sees how you look at him. He reassures with a look as well, knowing how concerned you get with how strict he can be with himself. The eldest member settles himself near you once he grabs his share of the meal. It’s because of him that the other members were sitting around you too, all of them telling stories of how the recording went and the antics they did.

You stare at Yunho incredulously upon hearing that he made his ears turn red in less than five seconds. All he could do is hide his stuffed smile behind his hand, trying to shift the attention to the fact that San did another impersonation for national TV.

“So I guess that he also did some taekwondo too?”

“You know me too well.”

“It would be concerning if I didn’t, San.”

The back and forth causes laughter to bubble from the small group. When they realize they only had half an hour left, they quickly finished what’s left of their meals and got their makeup retouched before rushing out. “Watch our stage! We’re performing soon!” Hongjoong asks the room as a staff member picks them up and ushers them back to the venue.

The second half of the recording goes smoothly, and with how the MC was describing the next everyone knew it would be ATEEZ next. True enough, it was them and they’re ushered backstage, everyone’s glued to the monitor now.

You weren’t able to see the dry run of this stage, too busy dealing with other brand deals and work that comes with being a manager. This means that this performance is going to be your first time watching it. The nerves were setting in now as your bottom lip is caught in between your teeth in thought.

The stage starts and you have to commend Jongho and San for the haunting beginning that sets the tone for the entire performance. You weren’t sure as to why you were so nervous and worried for this stage when they managed to do everything they wanted for the stage and more. Even you felt out of breath by the end of the stage, but nonetheless you feel nothing but pride and relief for a smooth performance. Somehow even you keep note of the praises they receive for the stages, knowing that somewhere down the line they’d need this for future performances. They win the favor of the audience and for the rest of the show, they stay backstage. Without the cameras on them, you can only wonder what they’re up to.

“You think they’re catching some sleep?” Yoon jokes to you as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen. His words make you snort.

“Pretty sure they won’t be able to catch some shut eye at this rate, they won against the previous artist, that’s enough adrenaline to keep them up until they get brought back to where everyone else is.” You speak a little too soon. The boys win once more and there’s only one last artist left to perform and everyone in the dressing room is stunned by the progression. The stylists knew that ATEEZ had a charm but none of them expected their charm to be this strong.

The last artist performs and everyone’s at the edge of their seat for the final round wondering if the boys would make it. The lights flash back and forth and once it stays on ATEEZ, the entire room erupts in glee. You lose feeling in your legs at the results, too stunned to say anything. The boys on screen are in disarray with their emotions: Seonghwa and Yunho are breaking into tears, Mingi and Jongho practically jump off camera, Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung are too stunned to move, even San had to crouch down from the mere shock and happiness of everything. The rest of the recording goes by quickly and the boys are finally back in the room, a mix of hyper energy and quiet content. You and Yoon quickly take videos of their thoughts about winning for their log videos: you with the older four, him with the younger four. The quicker everyone finishes the needed work, the quicker everyone can go home.

Once San has changed out of his stage clothes, he makes his way towards you even if Seonghwa drapes himself over you just for the sake of some shut eye. At least your bag’s a lot lighter now, otherwise you’d have to deal with a grown man draping himself over you like a dozing cat and albums. “Manager-nim! What do you think of our stage?” San asks, trying not to sulk at the fact your attention wasn’t completely on him.

“San! You did amazing out there. You kinda looked scary out there too.” You praise him, even while readjusting Seonghwa’s position on you; at least he wasn’t putting his entire weight on you.

San notices your attempt to carry the conversation even with his hyung being a baby. As expected, he tickles Seonghwa to get him off your back, literally. This results in a match of flailing hands from both boys. Maybe performing Black Cat was a perfect fit for these boys. You let them flail about for a few moments until everyone is accounted for. “Come on, time to head home for your cat naps.” You joke as you head to the car.

It was a good thing that you and Manager Yoon brought two cars for this schedule. For sure some of the boys would sleep by the time their back hits the backrest of the seat, while some would still be buzzing with energy. You end up with the boys that would knock out by the time they get in the car. San called dibs on the passenger’s seat, while the rest sat at the back without complain. The ride home is a quiet one, San trying his best to stay awake to keep you awake as well.

“San, it’s okay. Just get your sleep, I’ll wake all of you up when we get there.” You reassure him when his words start to slur and his head starts to bob to one side.

“But..” He fails to finish his words as a yawn slowly erupts from him. Yeosang, Mingi and Hongjoong were at the back, too tired to even talk, you can only assume that they’re slouched over on their seat, already asleep.

“San, it’s okay.” You repeat, as you drive carefully through a corner. “Sleep.” You say, almost as if it was an order. Moments pass with no response and you think he finally has fallen asleep. The rest of the drive is just your quiet breathing and the soft snores from who you can only assume is either Hongjoong or Mingi.

What you don’t know is that San’s still awake, only his eyes were closed the entire time. His thoughts running wild, usually you didn’t let them be overly affectionate with you during work hours, yet you willingly let Seonghwa be on your back even with the possibly prying eyes. He’s certain that you don’t return his feelings at this point. He was sure some of the members already know of his feelings, hell Seonghwa teased him about it a few days ago. Illogical questions pop into his head; if Seonghwa knew of his feelings, why would he be like such towards you? He didn’t want to think so poorly of his own hyung. It was a war in his head, two different sides making possible points that were easily debunked by the other side. If he doesn’t do something about this, it would just be a disaster. He needed to find a way about it.

In his tormented thoughts, he somehow managed to drift off into a state of in between conscious and unconscious up until he reached home. The three boys have gone up with the rest of the members, and it was only you and him left.

“W-where..” he mutters, pushing himself up his seat, looking around with sleep weighing his eyes down. Maybe sleeping in that position wasn’t a good idea. When he realizes where he is, the thoughts rush back to him.

Your voice was gentler this time, “We’re home, sleepyhead,” gently shaking his leg to wake him up a little bit more. I’m bringing you to your dorm first.” You don’t take his whines to change your mind. He’s more tired than you are, hell he didn’t even remove his makeup on the way home. It takes a few minutes for you to lock the car up and make sure everything’s in place, when you turn around you still see him lingering about, hands rubbing his eyes. “I thought you’d go ahead.” You note, as you walk with him to the elevator. You wait for the elevator to arrive while making sure he doesn’t topple over.

At least it’s Monday tomorrow. There’s no shows to rush to, no guestings either, it was just a day for them to recover after the hectic filming. You didn’t want to admit it but this routine is something you’ve come to love. As much as you love it though, you do worry for him especially now where he seems like he could just crumple over from the exhaustion.

This time though, you don’t let San carry your bag on the way up. He’s tired enough as it is. He was practically sleeping while standing up. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know?” You murmur as you wait for the elevator to arrive.

“Wanted to.” he says under his breath. His eyes were heavy but the way he manages to still smile is a miracle. “... like being with you.” he continues softly. He rubs his eye with the palm of his hand, trying to push the sleepiness away. It can only help so much.

“San, we have so many other chances. It won’t be long either until they lower the levels for the social distancing and health measures.” You reason gently. Truth be told, you’re scared he’d collapse from exhaustion here. Though you were strong, you’re unsure of your capabilities to lift a grown man along with two bags. “Come on, the elevator’s here.” You make sure the doors don’t close in on the two of you this time, instead of him doing it for you.

You press his floor number first this time.

He hums again, or says something that fails to make sense to you. “What?” You ask as you wait for the elevator to move.

“I said, it’s hard to not like being with you.” He says, voice a little clearer now as he pushes himself up against the metal wall. “You’ve been doing your work to manage us and be a friend to us, even going beyond that. You’re really amazing.”

A part of you wonders if he drank without you knowing in the car ride home but you let him continue.

“Really jealous too. You’ve got your eye on someone no?” He asks, his smile carries something you never saw from him.

“What?” That wakes you up.

“Wish it was me instead, the one who has your heart y’kno?” He mumbles.

“Choi San, did you drink alcohol without me knowing on the way back here?” You ask, clearly alarmed by the words falling from his mouth. Adrenaline slowly waking you up as you start to scan him for anything weird.

He looks at you and you see exhaustion has colored his features. Even with that, you see that he’s not inebriated from any substance. “N’t call me that..” He mutters.

“But that’s your name.” You reach for his bottle, trying to see if he did drink without your permission. “San, I swear, if you drank without me knowing, I won’t tell the company _but_ you are in trouble to me.”

He pulls his bag away from your reach. As if that helps prove his innocence. “I’m serious.” He says, clearer this time. You wonder if the lift towards his floor was always this long, you look at him and he doesn't look as exhausted as he was earlier. He sees how you look at him with hesitance and disbelief so he takes the leap. “I really like you and I wish it was me instead that had your heart.”

You weren’t sure if the lightheaded feeling was from how high you were from the ground or from his confession. Just as you were about to say something, the doors open to his floor and you’re greeted by Yunho on the other side. The two of you face away from each other in a feeble attempt to sweep everything under the rug. “Yunho, I thought you would be asleep by now.” You say, genuinely surprised to see the tall man.

“Seonghwa Hyung got worried over San not being in the dorm yet so here I am.” He reaches out just before the doors close again. San steps out of the lift and waves at you, not wanting to look at you.

“Sleep well guys.” You bid them goodbye and somehow something inside you hopes that him not looking at you was because of the need to rest and not because of what had happened minutes before. The last thing you see before the doors close in between you is his back and his heavy shoulders.

Part 4

#my writings #san fluff #san angst #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez writings #ateez series #san x reader #ateez x reader #uhhh idk what else to tag this as so yea #watch me play wild rift until i reach level 15 now JOKE

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