#they rolled her eyes and was like f****** millennials

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It started out with a kiss, how did it ended like this?

Pairing/Au: Young!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, NSFW

Summary: You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he's beautiful... will it end well?

Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, the story is set in 2004 but there is no Sarah so Joel is a 24 year old guy (calculated on Game!Joel's age) who went to university and has no child, smut, angst, a lot of kissing, meet cute?, sex in public places, risk of being caught, reader has breasts and vagina, she wears shorts, a tank top, heels and a dress, no other description is given of her except that she smokes (it happens only once in the ff though), fingering (f receiving), dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it up irl!), reader is on the pill, cream pie, alcohol consumption, smoking, infidelity, plot twist, dubcon (I’m putting that here because reader is drunk but not so drunk, she gives explicit consent but you know, just to be sure.), brief Tommy appearance (is that a warning? LOL poor Tommy, love him), pussy pronouns, pet names (mostly baby) a lot of swearing, very small age gap but I'm pointing it out anyway, reader is 21 and Joel is 24, some insert of reader’s thoughts, no happy ending (sorry 💀). This story is inspired by something that happened to me personally so please please be particularly gentle with it (you always are tbh, thanks a lot❤️).

The places are places that really exist, they are in Italy but I still tried to leave them neutral so that you can imagine the setting in several places in the world where there is the sea, at least I hope. Where I live it is legal for beach resorts to organize beach parties at certain times established by law, as for music, the songs mentioned are songs that I personally love, I think that more or less everyone knows them, right? Hashtag Millennials music lol

English is not my first language, no beta or proofreading, apologies for any mistake! 🙇🏻‍♀️

Header and dividers by me, sorry if they look like sh*t, I tried my best 🥲

“Are you a dream or are you real?”

You roll your eyes, while this guy who has approached you and has been dancing next to you for 15 minutes has grabbed you by the waist and whispered these words to you.

Are men really convinced they can seduce with this bullshit?

You turn around thinking you’ll find the usual maniac face who reaches out with shameless hands.

You’re absolutely ready to tell him to go to hell.

Oh.

He’s a tall guy, probably slightly older than you, messy black curls, scruffy beard and mustache and big, gorgeous brown eyes.

Not bad at all.

But it doesn’t mean you can go by your mother’s favorite way of thinking “he’s handsome so he can’t be evil”, it’s fucking stupid and you know it. She used to allow you to ride in your male friend’s car only because he was so hot and wealthy and his family was well known and respected.

If only she had known… but anyway, he belongs to the past, to a group of toxic people you don't hang out with anymore.

Your eyebrow raises and your mouth tug into the most ironic smile you could possibly pull out.

“I’m not Rihanna, you know? So cut off your bullshit”

He’s surprised and he stands there for a second with his mouth open looking dumb.

And then he’s at it again “You’re gorgeous” he whispers in your ear while the music is pumping hard from the disco speakers you are in and he still holds your waist, pushing you towards him “you are the most beautiful girl in this place”

“Yeah, sure” you reply, with a mixture of irritation and pity. He is visibly a little drunk, he moves awkwardly near you trying to appear sensual when in reality he’s as graceful as a brown bear.

You laugh, shaking your head, at least he’s funny.

You lean in close to his ear to make him hear you better “please leave me, I’m with my friends”

Friends who are giggling behind his back giving you the thumbs up.

You look into his alcohol-blurred pleading eyes and damn, this guy definitely knows how to get something. You feel sorry for him, and he’s cute. If he wasn’t so cute you would already left, no point in beating around the bush. You decide to give him a chance, after all it will be a one night stand at most and you’re single, there’s nothing wrong with it.

He has very large hands that wrap around your hips in just the right way and you love hands, it’s one of the first things you notice in a guy. You’re a sucker for a nice beard too and his beard is just the right length to make you want to feel it rub against your skin.

His lips look great too, plumped and perfectly designed, and his nose… big nose. Oh, yes, another box to tick. Big noses are the best.

You put your hands around his neck, you’re reaching him because you’re wearing the highest heels you’ve ever had. His body feels nice against yours, giving you shiver of pleasure down your back.

He towers over you even like this.

Your hips rub together as you dance and his hands end up on your ass. He grabs your cheeks through your skimpy shorts and give them a nice squeeze.

Wow. Audacious. You like this. It looks like this guy knows what he’s doing, horrible opening line aside.

He asks in your ear if you want something to drink and you accept, he takes your hand and escorts you through the crowd to the bar. You appreciate how he made his way through making sure not to lose you.

He leans over the counter to get the bartender's attention and you take the opportunity to take a peek at his butt. Really nice.

You are at a beach resort’s party that you always go to, it was supposed to be held on the beach but the weather didn't allow it so they moved it to this club a few km away.

You know the dj and the bartenders by name but let him make his moves and order drinks, while you nod at your favorite bartender girl and she gives you a wink and her lip reading says "nice catch”.

He looks all proud while he gives you your glass, his big brown eyes are crinkled at the edges along with his lips curved into a grin. He’s so damn cute when he smiles, you tell to yourself.

He takes a sip and he asks you your name and obviously compliments it. “I’m Joel” he tells you in your ear and he reach out to shake your hand.

You smile back profusely and your eyes glare at his biceps hugged perfectly his white t-shirt.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you let it out, your friends are still in the middle of the dance floor but you get a text on your phone saying “He’s really handsome, go girl! If you need anything call us, ok? Have fun!”

You roll your eyes grinning, everybody apparently approves.

Within minutes you discover that he’s 24, he studies architecture, plays the guitar and he has a little garage band with his friends and then you shout “Oh my god, I love this song!” You grab his arm and drag him back to the center of the dance floor. Joel doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He bounces next to you to the beat of Mr. Brightside as you both sing along at the top of your lungs. Halfway through the second verse when the song says “it was only a kiss” Joel grabs you in his arms and pushes you toward a pillar that lines the dance floor, surprising you. He slams into you and kisses you, deeply, hungrily, knocking out what little air you have left after dancing.

His tongue enters your mouth forcefully, licking greedily. A little rough and his beard and mustache are lightly scratching your skin but you don’t mind. In fact, the rush of adrenaline as he pushed you made your heart speed at an insane race and the way he slammed you against the wall made you instantly wet. You feel your panties sticking as you kiss him back just as frantically. The best kiss you’ve ever had, you have to be honest, he’s really good.

You’re panting in his mouth, moaning as he insistently rub his hips on yours, you can feel his erection pushing against you.

Fuck, who would have expected it from the clumsy boy who tried to hook you up so awkwardly before?

You can taste the rum and cola he ordered on his tongue and a faint hint of cigarette mixed with the smell of clean laundry and something else, animalistic and sexy, probably his slightly sweaty skin.

His hands are roaming at your body, on your neck, over your shoulders, on your back as you arch into him searching for more friction, and then on your ass again giving another really nice squeeze.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed someone on the dance floor and it probably won’t be the last but no one has ever made you this feral unless you were completely drunk. You can’t blame the alcohol tonight because you only had one drink, it’s him. He makes you dizzy.

“Wanna talk a little bit outside?” you ask him panting when he pulls away from you to catch his breath.

“Yeah, talk” he says mischievously “of course, let’s go talk”

You laugh, releasing yourself from his grip and tugging at his shirt as you move towards the exit.

He follows you immediately, putting his hand on your back as you walk out. Several people are smoking near the entrance, you pass by a couple of girls who are looking Joel up and down.

You turn the corner and find a fairly isolated spot. You can still hear the music, even if it’s muffled.

You're in the back of the place, he sits on a large wooden crate which likely contained alcohol or equipment and pulls you towards him, between his legs. You take his lips back into yours, lightly nibbling his lower lip and filling your hands with his broad back, caressing it, moving up to his neck.

There is nothing you want more than to feel his tongue dance with yours again, you push gently and he lets you in. You start kissing him greedily, just as much as he did before. His giggle vibrates on your lips “hey, weren’t we supposed to talk?” You laugh looking into his chocolate eyes “oh of course, let me explain better” and you kiss him again, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

He’s so damn good.

It's not very often that you instantly feel this good around a guy, much less feel as confident as you do now, but the adoring way he looks at you and his big strong arms wrapped around your body are comforting, they make you feel at ease.

The September air is cool and the place is surrounded by pine trees, you would almost be cold if it weren’t for Joel.

His hand moves to the front of your shorts, sliding it over the zipper and pressing into your crotch. You let out a moan.

“Can I?”

“Yes” you breathe, nodding.

You’re craving this.

He undoes the button and slides a hand inside, making room for himself past your underwear, sliding a finger between your folds.

“Soaked wet, huh?” he murmurs “fucking amazing”

His index and middle fingers move over your clit, rubbing and applying pressure as you bury your face in his neck, sinking your teeth into his flesh, gently, and then licking the part as you feel him twitch beneath you.

You whimper “Fuck, please don’t stop”

“I won’t baby, I’m going to make your little pussy screaming for me” He slides his two fingers into your opening while his thumb continues to work rapidly on your bundle of nerves.

He begins to pump into you, relentless and precise, curling into you, hitting your special spot, his fingers are thick and long and dig into you like they always have.

“You’re squeezing my fingers so good, keep going babe, keep going for me”

You’re bucking your hips into his palm, riding on the edge of your pleasure, trying desperately to not completely lose it because you would want that to last longer but you can’t, you’re literally gushing over his hand after a couple of minutes, he’s too good at it.

He lets you work off your orgasm as he holds you close and softly kisses the skin just below your ear.

“God, Joel…” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby, just let it washes over you… and by the way if we weren't out here right now I would have made you come on my tongue”

“Mmmm i would love to try sometimes” you smile softly at him, eyes still faded by your orgasm. And the thing is, you want more. You’re on his neck again, sucking and licking and you whisper on his skin. Things are heating up so much you feel like you have to tell him so you look into his eyes and just spit that out of your mouth “I’m not doing sex with strangers that I just met, I’m sorry”

For a moment, just a moment, losing yourself into his gaze, you think about reconsider your position.

“I swear to God, this damn dude” you think.

You feel your integrity wavering, just a little.

“Well, it’s not a problem, we can do other things” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with a smirk “What would you have in mind, let's hear”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth, holding you close to his body as he moves his hips against yours, he unzips his pants and awkwardly pulls them down with one hand, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He takes your hand and puts it on top of it “could you uhm… touch it a little, maybe… if you like”

You feel your edges getting smoothed out, he just made you cry out of pleasure with his fingers and the least you can do is do something for him.

“Why not” you answer lasciviously “it can be done”

It’s big, much bigger than you expected, and it's rock hard. You wrap your hand around it and can barely hold it all. This guy also has one of the most beautiful cocks you've ever seen, it’s unbelievable. You run your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that's already dripping down his length, and begin to stroke him.

You go up and down its shaft, stopping at the tip, lingering over it and you feel him twitching underneath your touch. “Yeah, baby, you’re so good at it” his voice is low and hoarse, his eyes darker than before, almost all pupils as you continue to work on his big fat cock.

Someone told you before that you’re pretty good at it and Joel seems to agree “Fuck, your hand feels amazing” you smirk feeling proud.

“I have an idea…” Joel whispers, “you could… uh fuck… maybe… use it” he stammers, and you look at him confused not understanding what he means “we already talked about this Joel and I have to admit you have a really magnificent cock but I'm not going to put it in”

“No of course…but you can uhm…wait I'll show you” he opens your shorts again and you get nervous

“What?” what is this guy going to do?

He pulls them down just enough to leave you in your underwear but holding them up for you so they don’t end up on the ground.

He gently takes your hand off his cock and takes it himself, holds it straight and brings you closer “you can keep your panties on, I swear nothing will happen that you don't want” and starts rubbing it on you, on your crack covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You whine “oh fuck” you’re seeing the point of it now and it’s unbelievably hot.

“Use it, babe. Use it to play with yourself” You don't wait long to take the lead, you pick it up again and rub it all over yourself to your heart's content, using its length all over you. Like a big dildo, but better, you can feel every vein throbbing, its heat and wetness through the thin fabric.

It’s almost overwhelming, using his hard shaft to get you off, you squirm as you insist on you clit, letting out moans that sound outrageously pornografic. And he’s getting on the edge too, you can feel it under your fingers and in his deep rasping whimpers that rise from the bottom of his throat.

How did you not think of that? It feels like the most satisfying dry humping you’ve ever done, and you’re a master at it. Your pillow and stuffy animals at home can confirm.

Reaching your peak you clench your jaw and try to stifle the sound of your orgasm, but a long slow moan still makes its way out of you.

“I’m almost there,” Joel whispers to you, his face flushed, his eyes glazed over, you sink a hand into his curls and pull away from him to make him come between your fingers.

His whole body is tense, his mouth agape, he squints his eyes, sticky white streams smear your palm and he comes, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, this was…God” he takes you back in his arms, still shaking as his pleasure run through his entire body.

As soon as he regain the ability to speak you hear his tempting voice whispering in your ear “you liked that, huh?”

“I…more than like it, I loved it” and his laugh vibrates on your neck.

One of your hands is wrapped around his neck while the other is suspended in the air with the mess he just made dripping between your fingers.

You shake it a little and lick the rest, slowly sliding your fingers into your mouth one at a time, running your tongue carefully over each one. He looks at you, mesmerized, “Oh shit, if you keep going like this I’m going to get hard again.”

You giggle and shrug “What am I supposed to do? Wet wipes are in my bag that remained inside”

He laugh “Well, You don't have sex with strangers but you're still cheeky, huh? Good, so uhm… My friends will probably be looking for me to go back home but…can I have your number?” He plead and you say yes, obviously yes.

He takes his phone out of his back pocket waving at you and you grab it, after you’ve fixed your fingers and your shorts, typing down your number. “You know I live 3 hours from here unfortunately but we can manage that I think” he says huskily and you nod.

Yes, you think, I can manage that for you.

It was all so good it felt unreal.

And you know something is actually off when he asks you “do you have a boyfriend?”

Why this question? And why now?

Of course not, you don't have a boyfriend otherwise you wouldn't be here.

It seemed more than obvious to you.

“No, I’m single” you reply, starting to feel really stupid.

And you know something unpleasant is about to materialize between you, a big elephant in a china shop.

You move away from him, scrutinizing his face, feeling a lump in your throat as you ask him with a shaking voice, “Why, you?”

“Oh yes, yes I have a girlfriend” he answers you candidly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world after having done those things with you. Maybe he is even convinced that he did not cheat on her because there was no penetration.

“Are you kidding me? Do you think it’s a brilliant idea to tell me now?” You are speechless.

It’s not like you promised each other something so this confession is unwanted, unnecessary and almost cruel because you were here to have fun and now you feel bad.

And there he stands, puppy dog ​​eyes wide open, like the most innocent person. You would love to slap him.

“It's nothing serious” he dares to say “and we have problems, I want to leave her” blablabla, the usual repertoire of excuses that you have heard a thousand times and that have been passed on to any of your friends.

“Yeah, like I’ve never heard it before… Whatever” You hiss.

“But it’s true, baby!” He whines. He fucking whines, trying to grab your arm “Come here”

“No, we’re done” you take steps back while telling him “go back to your girlfriend”

You can't even look him in the eye anymore "don't text me, okay? I can’t do this”

You feel so dumb and frustrated.

It could have ended there and you would have been fine, it would have been a nice memory.

A guy who made you come twice in a row, great. But then he asked for your number so you thought he could have been something more, like a friend with benefits? A date? Maybe even a boyfriend one day? You’re not one to commit with the first guy you meet but things between the two of you were so hot and steamy and maybe in a little space in your brain you got somehow hopeful about him, that he was someone you could trust.

You don't even understand why he told you that now, to make you feel like a bitch? He ruined everything.

“Yeah…ok” he murmur looking at the ground. He seems really sad, but fuck, too bad for him, you don’t give a damn.

You turn and stride back into the club, looking for your friends.

He follows you inside saying at your back “I’m sorry”

Oh no, you think, you’re not.

You find your friends who immediately notice that you are visibly upset “What happened” asks one of them, taking you to a corner. You look at her and say “Guess what?”

Your friend shrugs and lets out a sigh full of disdain “he has a girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes” you cuss.

Your friend hug you “honey, I’m sorry. Let’s go home, come on” You grab your things from behind the DJ booth and walk out of there. You don’t see Joel on the way out and at this point you don’t want to know where he is.

A couple of days later, you’re at the café having a coffee with your friends. It’s afternoon, it’s hot, and you’re sitting at the tables outside, under white big umbrellas, chatting. There’s a beautiful sun and a pleasant breeze, one of your friend is telling you about a very strange dream she had, and you’re all laughing when your phone vibrates on the table.

It's Joel. What a nerve this guy has.

“Fuck” you hiss and your friends immediately get nervous “what’s going on?”

You roll your eyes and reply “it’s Joel”

“Oh my god” your friend says “and what did he write?”

You click on the notification and read “Hi, I’m sorry about Saturday but I promise my girlfriend and I are over. Can I come visit you so we can talk?”

And you think, “Who can guarantee that? Who can tell me that you don’t have a foot in both camps? I don’t like that. I don’t want that”

Your friends tell you the exact same thing, you live in two different cities, you’ll never know if he really left her, this guy wants to play a double game. It’s always like this.

Fuck Joel.

“There’s nothing to talk about, don’t text me again, please”

Forget about him, you tell to yourself.

Yes, he’s handsome and he made you feel good but no guy will make you his lover. You deserve better and the other girl deserves better too. You don’t even know her but you feel sorry for her.

It’s that time of year again, you’re at the beach with your friends at one of your favorite resort’s beach parties.

You move through the hot, dancing crowd to reach the bar while the dj plays Rock & Roll Queen by the Subways.

You order shots of tequila, salt and lemon, take the salt holder and sprinkle some on the back of your hand just under your thumb along with your friends, you carefully take the lemon slice without dropping the salt and hold the glass in the other hand.

You lick the salt, down the shots in one gulp and pop the lemon in your mouth.

The tequila burns your throat but the lemon gives immediate relief and freshness.

It’s good, it’s all good, it’s your number 4 shots and at this point you’re starting to feel pleasantly drunk, your head is spinning a little and the pounding sound of the speakers makes you feel high but you're still fine, having fun as usual.

6 is your limit, after 6 you’re fucked up.Just another one, you think, and then I’ll stop.

You go back to the middle of the dance floor and hear the beginning of Killing in the name of by Rage Against the Machine. There’s something about this song that makes you feel like you can conquer the whole world, it’s inexplicable but it works every time.

You run to the DJ booth where there are two large, heavy wooden boxes on the sides and you climb onto one of them to dance.

It's kind of like a disco cube, but you're on the beach and if you look ahead you see a stretch of sand and the sea. The dance floor during the day is a basketball court.

A friend of yours climbs up with you while the others watch you from below laughing and dancing.

You sing at the top of your lungs as you dance on the cube and smile at your friends. They are always there for you and they are the closest friends you have.

Your girls are great, the best you could ask for.

You turn to the DJ making a heart with your hands laughing when he does it back to you. You never get bored at these parties and it's certainly also thanks to him and his playlists.

You get off the cube at the end of the song and approach the bar with the girls again.

The last shot is rum and it burns even more than tequila. They serve it with a small glass of pear juice on the side.

You dance some more until you tell your friends you're going away for a smoke.

You stand on the side of the dance floor sitting on a wall, feeling really tipsy but not completely drunk.

You love this place, you always did. It’s like a comforting ritual, coming here every friday night, dancing with your friends, having some drinks, sometimes even hooking up.

You can dress like the hell you want, you can avoid painful heels and stuff, no one has a bad thing to say, you can go dance on the sand barefoot, you can leave your stuff behind the DJ booth without fear of someone stealing it.

You really like dancing, it’s liberating and it’s so much fun.

You throw your cigarette on the ground and put it out under your shoe, then throw the butt in the bin near the entrance.

You head towards the bathrooms, greeting a girl you know, and get in line.

A couple next to you is making out and you think you'd like to do the same with someone.

Damn alcohol, it makes you stupid and horny.

You go into the bathroom and pee, wash your hands, fix your hair and go out. You're trying to get back to your friends when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and see a guy who reminds you of someone but you're tipsy, your vision feels a little blurry, maybe you're wrong.

“Hey pretty, would you like a drink?”

You know this voice, you've talked to this dude before. And suddenly you recognize him.

Oh shit.

It’s Joel.

You haven't seen him in a year, he hasn't written to you since you rejected him. You had him relegated to the corner of your brain where you never look, the one where you put unpleasant things to move on.

He’s still gorgeous, with slightly longer hair. He looks at you with a puzzled face because you haven’t said a word yet, probably he doesn’t remember you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. And you answer “yes. yes I’m fine. It’s just… My hair was a different color last year but…don’t you recognize me?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down. “No…and honestly I feel like a real idiot right now, you’re gorgeous”

It's unbelievable. He didn’t recognize you but he just tried to hit up on you again.

You tell him your name and his eyes widen and his mouth agape: “oh fuck. Oh fuck, it’s you”

“Yeah, here we go again”

He scratches the beard on his jaw “oh well… you’re always stunning” he says, and shrugs his shoulders, raising his arms as if to say “it’s not my fault”.

You don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. After all, if he tried again even without knowing it was you, you must really be his type.

Or maybe it's just a coincidence, he wanted someone and you just happened to be in his sights at the right time.

“So? Do you still have a girlfriend?” You ask, crossing your arm on your chest.

“Not anymore” he smirk and and you look at him full of suspicion, furrowing your brows “Is it the truth?”

“Yes, it is.” You’re still in doubt, you take a deep breath while he add “I swear!”

You roll your eyes.

You shouldn’t believe him and you know it. But he’s incredibly handsome and he seems to still want you and last year he kissed you in a way…and then you’re half drunk and that doesn’t help.

“So, do you want something to drink?” And you should just say no, I don’t want anything, turn on your heels and go back to your friends. But unexpectedly your mouth decides otherwise. He smiles smugly and you feel your knees weak. His beautiful brown eyes, you don’t even know how to argue with them as you watch him showing off his puppy look.

Damn Joel, and his eyes.

He puts his arm around your waist and leads you to the bar. You feel like you’re floating in a bubble of horniness.

Pathetic.

It’s the second time and you just lose the ability to say no to him. The way his hand grip around your side, so big and warm, the way he smells clean and minty and slightly citrusy, his luscious hair in which you just want to bury your fingers intertwined with his curls, his lips so plumped and soft that make you hungry…he’s too much and you’re too tipsy.

He orders a shot for you and you drink it, you slide it down your throat like it was nothing.

Joel drags you to the dance floor taking you in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his hands on your back, your hips move in sync as if you both had a muscle memory that had been dormant for a whole year and was immediately reawakened as soon as your bodies met again.

“God, baby, I want you so bad” he whispers in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and nibbling at it.

You shiver at the sensation, feeling your head empty and you body overflowing with desire.

“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” He teases and you nod.

You push your way to the crowd and it’s like a deja-vu that hits you and leaves you numb, he holds you close to him as you walk down the wooden plank path lined with umbrellas and sun loungers that leads to the seashore.

You get halfway down the path when he stops and looks you in the eye “I’ve missed this” If you were completely lucid you’d think that was a bit of a stretch considering you’ve only seen each other once but right now you’re blinded and needy and incredibly horny for him.

He kisses you, lacing his lips with yours, insinuating his tongue into your mouth, feverishly searching for yours. He’s ravenous, just like you remembered him.

You both gasp and when you pull away you laugh softly looking at each other. There is indeed an inexplicable chemistry between the two of you, there is no denying it.

“Shall we sit down?” he murmurs and leads you to one of the loungers.

You continue to kiss as if you were drinking from each other's mouths in a desperate attempt to quench your thirst.

His lips are gorgeous, soft as a feather pillow, fiery as hell, they taste deliciously of tequila and strawberry syrup like the shot you just had.

The music and the crowd are far away, everything around is isolated and silent except for the sound of waves in the distance. The sand has crept into your shoes but you don't care. The sea breeze makes you shiver pleasantly in his arms, it’s all so confusing but beautiful. Joel makes you lie down next to him on the lounger.

You feel so good in his arm, all wrapped around you as he explores every inch of your exposed skin, fingertips a little bit calloused, thick just like you remembered.

The sound and the vibration of his groans into your mouth are so addictive and make you wet instantly.

So wet it’s almost embarrassing.

“I want…” he mumbles and you purr “what?”

“I want to eat you out, babe” he says in a breath

“Here?” Your eyes widen and you feel immediately alarmed. “What if someone see us?!”

“There’s not a soul here, they’re all at the party, no one will see us” he reassures you “If you don’t want it though…”

“Oh no, i want it” you nod repeatedly “I want it so bad” you tug at his shirt looking at him in his damn puppy eyes .

“Okay…” you whisper, still unsure but eager at the same time.

The lounger is is reclined, so it allows you to lean up to your back on the backrest, he lies on his stomach at the bottom of it, with his legs dangling out on either side.

He lifts your skirt and stares at your wet panties. “Still soaking wet for me,” he grins.

You should be ashamed of yourself for indulging in with this guy again? Probably, but it’s not like you give a damn right now. You only want to feel his tongue on your cunt. Playing with your clit.

So you smile, you giggle and let yourself sink into this mess.

He lowers on you leaving a kiss on the wet spot on your underwear and suddenly stick out his tongue to lick it. Just a little flick that leaves you needy and hot.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You ask impatiently, your arousal deepening your voice.

He laugh and shake his head “Would you like that?” There’s something a little bit too bold about him, a cocky undertone that you’re not bothered to address right now, you’re still yourself though and you’re not one to do so many ceremonies when it comes to sex.

So you reply “Oh shut up, use this tongue of yours to make me scream already”

He smirks and punctuates “Bossy, huh? I love it” and then he lowers over your pussy and licks again at your panties, a long lap this time, grazing lightly at your clit with his teeth. His eyes are still fixed on yours as his tongue moves over his lower lips, savoring the taste of your cunt “so fucking sweet, babe.”

He slides his fingers into the sides of your panties and slowly pulls them down as you lift your hips to help him.

“Fuck, baby, it’s even better than I thought… I can’ stop looking at her”

His fingers run up your thighs, brushing your skin, they get closer to your center without stopping to stare at it “I was right to want to eat you out last time. God, look at her…” and he runs a finger over your folds “perfect..so perfect.”

You can read eagerness and desire in his eyes, and it makes you feel even less inclined to wait, it’s been a while since anyone's done this to you, your toy is very efficient but you reluctantly have to admit that it's not like feeling a man between your thighs.

He finally presses his lips to your clit and you moan, moan loudly and Joel laughs “You horny little thing”

His tongue runs the entire length of your pussy, from bottom to top and stops again on your clit, swirling above it.

“Yes, oh my god YES”

You should try to be quieter but you can't, not when Joel has decided to devour you, opening your folds with two fingers and dipping his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit giving you shocks of pleasure that shake your whole body.

You squirm and you feel his big hand grabbing your hip, holding you in place “be a good girl, let me do my job” he pulls away from you for just a moment and you can barely see him down there but you can feel every single motion so intensely, his scruffy beard deliciously scratching on your skin so clearly, your senses other than sight so incredibly amplified that you almost begin to appreciate being eat out in the dark, you don’t even care about being busted.

You should really stop walking on this dangerous path but the contrast between the fresh air and Joel's warm mouth is driving you crazy, you feel a ringing in your ears, a tingling sensation that envelops you, you want more.

“Mmm baby, I want to drink you all. I want to dig so deep into you you would think that no one will ever make you feel this good again”

There is an underlaying claim in his voice, a need to be praised and recognized, a need to know for sure that he’s doing the best you can ask for so you heap praise on him, burying a hand in his curls, pushing him into your pussy, bucking your hips regardless his large hand digging in your skin, probably leaving bruised that would be your honor badge tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking great, Joel OH. FUCK. Please don’t stop don’t stop dontstop” and your words die a little in your throat as you try to not fall into his rabbit hole, but it’s too late.

You’re there when he makes his way into you with two of his thick fingers, curling them up, reaching for that inner spot that makes you see stars, knuckles deep into you pumping your pleasure up. His lips close on your clit sucking it into his mouth.

His mouth is soft, experienced, licks and sucks on your butterfly wings in purposeful movements, attentive but relentless as a man starved.

You can feel your juice flowing through your folds, dripping on your thighs and Joel’s tongue searching for every drop of it, digging into your hole, flicking on your bud, caressing your outer lip, you feel like he’s everywhere on you and you’re just seconds away from exploding.

“Yeah baby, give it to me, let me see how wild you can be, let me know how gushed you can get”

Your head spins at the sounds of his words and it gets even worse when his hand moves to your breasts over your top and bra searching for your nipple, his fingertips brushing it while he continues to hold his mouth laced with your pussy.

You whine and tug at his hair, calling his name repeatedly like a litany as he circles around your clit again in sync with his fingers filling your hole and you lay down your metaphorical weapons and indulge in a devastating orgasm.

It washes over you like waves of a stormy sea, making you drown completely into that deep part of you that just wants to feel that exquisite filthy hurricane run over you.

He keeps drinking at you until your body calms down and your moans fade away little by little, giving you back the ability to breathe normally.

“Fuck” you gasp “Holy fucking fuck”

Joel laughs “Something tells me you liked it, don’t you?”

He helps you fixing your panties and comes back up next to you and brings his fingers coated in your juice to your lips, smearing it over them “lick them clean, baby, taste how sweet you are”

You welcome his fingers up to the knuckles, wrapping them with your tongue, sucking greedily “such a good girl for me”

When he makes them pop out of your lips, you move closer to him and hide your face in the warmth of his chest while his hand caresses your back.

You're not thinking about anything, not about your friends who will be looking for you nor about how you should have said no to all of this, your head is only full of what he just made you feel.

And you feel the need to return the favor, the burning desire to taste him like you didn't last time.

You move to the bottom of the lounger, sitting on your heels and letting him lean his back against the backrest like you did before.

“Now it’s my turn.” You coo

“Are you sure?”

“I’m 100% sure” you can glimpse a sparkle in his eyes even if it’s dark as you put your hand over the bulge in his denim cargo shorts “someone is going to have a treat tonight, I’m fucking good at it” you murmur as you rub it over the fabric and he gasps at your touch then smirking and saying “yeah? you think you can handle this in your mouth?”

“You bet I can” you reply, your voice playfully offended.

“Then show me how good you are, baby” he order in a hushed tone.

Your fingers play with the button of his shorts, undoing it an instant later and unzipping, putting them down to his knees as he helps you moving his hips hastily.

Your hand is on his bulge again, massaging through the fabric and you see him swallowing and trying to take a long breath and you can see his pearly white teeth in the dark framed by a his mouth tug into a smile. You lower his underwear as well, just enough to pull his cock out, hard and throbbing already. It’s even bigger than you remembered, the most amazing thick, long, straight shaft you’ve ever seen.

His balls are big too, they hang heavy underneath.

It should belong in an erotic museum or something, someone should produce dildos inspired by Joel's cock.

The prominent veins along its length make you salivate and its big, red, swollen tip immediately compels you to lick it, a little kitty lick just to taste his precum that is already dripping from him.

It’s salty and musky as invades your mouth, it makes you even more needy.

He’s silent, just trying not to lose it already you suppose, the anticipation could be cut with a knife right now, it floats in the air like a thick fog between you.

You wrap your lips around his tip, swirling around it with your tongue, and then you go down on him, more and more, taking all you can in your mouth, it’s heavy and hot and intoxicating, you can deny that you’re imagining how good it would be if he also fills your pussy afterwards. Your cunt throb wildly between you legs as it reaches the back of your throat and your nose bumps into his curls.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you blink them back along with your gag reflex, wrapping your hand at the base and starting working your mouth over his cock a moment after. Your head goes graciously up and down, licking and sucking, focusing on the redden mushroom.

It might be intimidating for someone but not for you, you’re thrilled by the challenge.

He grunts and whines bucking his hips into you hissing “fuck yeah, suck it baby, just like that… you’re doing so good” his voice sounds like it comes from a cave, deep and raspy.

You take it out of your mouth holding it with your hand and go down to lick one of his balls, it’s a little bit too hairy for your liking but you won’t whine about it. You swirl your tongue around it, take it between your lips and suck, feeling him move beneath you. Run your tongue up from the base to the tip, rubbing it with your hand, up and down on his silky skin coated in your saliva.

You pop it out again and you hold it with both of your hands because it’s this long and big and you can rub the entire length this way, he writhes uncontrollably under your touch and you bite your lower lip, you’re loving making him so desperate. You can even hear it in his labored breathing and you can’t resist going down on his tip again, so red and swollen you could swear he’s about to spurt in your face if you’re not fast enough to get out of the way.

His voice is now so broken and distraught that he can pull off only a sequence of “fuck" and “OH MY GOD” and you’re feeling pride rise in your chest. Still fucking good at it, like you said.

You put it in your mouth again, sucking on it like the most amazing lollipop you’ve ever had and little streaks of saliva slip down your chin, pooling at his base.

You’re probably under a spell because no cock has ever felt so tasty in your mouth, you just can’t stop. And you don’t, until you feel him squirting long strings of semen onto the roof of your mouth and down your throat.

His moans fill your ears as his spending is filling your mouth and your clit ache terribly.

You suck him clean and he relaxes between your lips.

“Fuck, you weren't lying.” he whispers and you proudly reply “I told you so”

“Come here, you little slut” and you laugh ‘cause even this slur feels good. Fuck this guy.

You move in his arms again. You hide your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent and he says “Just give me a minute, we’re not done yet.”

You look at him, raising an eyebrow “Oh yeah?”

“As long as you let me fuck you” he says simply “it’s your choice, baby” and those words are enough to make you gushing in your panties again.

“Good job, mister, you asked very nicely” you coo and he smiles taking your lips again in a sweet gentle kiss that feels like heaven.

He’s crumbling your beliefs to not have sex with strangers. Well, technically, he’s not a total stranger and you’re never been so horny before.

The two of you kiss for a while until he asks you to straddle him. You pull his shorts down to his ankles so they’re out of the way and you do. You take his cock in your hand and feel it hardening again, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile mischievously at him as you pull your panties aside and begin to move down on him, keeping one hand at the base of his cock.

You're soaked but you still have to proceed slowly, inch by inch his shaft makes his way inside you, he grunts as he feels your walls widen for him, stretching your core.

He's trying hard to let you do it and not move his hips but you can feel his cock throbbing, it burns a little at first but quickly the sensation turns into a pleasant warmth.

“You’re good?” He asks and you instantly reply “Yes, yes, I feel so full”

“Right, so full of me, baby” he says huskily.

You take a deep breath as you begin to move on top of him, your clit rubbing against his bush, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, accompanying your thrusts “Yes, just like that, baby, keep going” He’s bucking his hips into you, sinking deeper and deeper into your pussy, you’re on the verge of losing your mind and you just lower your dress and bra and reveal your breasts, you grab his arm and put one of his hands on your breast “touch me” you beg him between moans “touch me, please”

“FUCK” he cuss as he grabs your tit and squeezes it, your nipples rubbing against his palm, you continue to ride him and feel your fluids slipping out of you, wetting your thighs and sliding over his skin.

You place your hand on him, moving it in circles with his, seeking more friction and he takes up the invitation, rubbing harder on your bud.

“You feel so good, so fucking good baby” he groans “go ahead, choke my cock”

You whimper, placing your hands on the lounger and leaning your back backwards while you fasten your pace.

He pushes into you relentlessly, you keep moving swinging your hips, you feel him slamming against your cervix just right in this position, again and again in lewd squelching sounds.

“I'm coming, I'm coming Joel,” you stammer.

“I feel it, I feel it baby, come for me, come all over my cock”

Your cunt clench around him, you feel delirious, totally cock drunk, and yet you can't help but place a hand on your clit, jerking it furiously “Oh my God yes- Fuck - yesyesyes” you’re a babbling mess and Joel too, neither of you are thinking anymore about the fact that you are out in the open and someone might see you, you’re loud and frantic and a moment later you’re gushing over his cock, your orgasm dripping all over him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks in a broken voice

“Inside”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes - FUCK - I'm on the pill” It's true, you started this year due to some period problems you had “Fill me up - just - fuck - fill me up, please” you mutter.

A couple more thrusts and he explodes inside you, painting your walls, squeezing your hips tightly, his fingers buried in your flesh.

He keeps thrusting into you until he’s calm and then slips out and takes you in him arm. You abandon your head against his chest, feeling his seed slowly trickling down and it’s a sensation you never experienced before, you’re not used to make guys come inside but Joel it just felt right. You don’t even feel drunk anymore, you’re drunk on him.

“God darling, that was so amazing,” he whispers as he kisses your hair and holds you tight.

And you smile. You smile like an idiot, a totally well pleased idiot though.

And just when you're thinking that nothing could ruin this moment you hear voices approaching from the seashore, you look at Joel with wide eyes and you dress faster than the light and run across the sand to return to the party. Was it someone returning from a night walk? The police? You'll never know. You stop as soon as you reach the end of the walkway, you look at each other and laugh out loud while you feel your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“Fuck” you hiss under your breath “I hope they didn't see us!”

“Maybe they enjoyed the show” Joel says mischievously.

You are officially sober after the scare, you slap Joel's arm laughing and rolling your eyes "come on, mister exhibitionist, help me find my friends" You take his hand and you make your way towards the DJ console, where luckily you find the girls again. They all open their eyes wide when they see you come back with him but your smile this time tells them a different story.

They don't even ask you where you were and you rush to apologize for leaving without warning.

They look at each other, still suspicious and you can understand why, they love you and don't trust Joel. Joel for his part smiles at everyone and introduces himself, casual and self-confident as if they didn't know what happened last year.

You talk to them for a bit and you think he really knows his stuff because your friends seem a lot less nervous than before, in the meantime you see a boy with dark hair approaching, he has a mustache and a bit of a beard and features that resemble Joel's.

He taps Joel on the arm and exclaims "Hey! Where the fuck were you?"

Joel immediately turns to him and it's clear that he knows him "Hey Tommy! Um... actually, I was with her"

Tommy shifts his gaze to you and his big dark eyes scrutinize you carefully as he shakes your hand "Nice to meet you, Tommy, this idiot's brother"

Oh.

You didn't know he had a brother, he never told you about him. In your new state of sobriety you realize that you haven't talked about a damn thing.

You were so euphoric that you didn't think about it until now.

Tommy is slightly shorter but just as attractive, you smile warmly at him and he smiles back but then turns back to Joel “me and the others are going home, are you coming?”.

Joel sadly replies “yeah, sure, just give me a minute”.

He takes your hand and you move away from them a little, you look into his eyes and think that maybe you could think of getting lost in that look, despite your lack of faith in relationships and especially in men.

“I have to go” he says squeezing both your hands in his “do you think I can use your number this time?” He has such a sweet look that you can only say “yes, sure” and you kiss him again, feeling like you’re in one of those stupid romantic comedies.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Joel whispers when you break the kiss.

He smiles with his whole face, eyes crinkled at the edges and lips curved into a smirk. He’s so damn beautiful.

You walk back to Tommy and your friends and Joel says “we can go” turning back to you and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. You feel your knees buckle and a tiny twinge in the corner of your heart at the thought that he lives 3 hours away and you don’t know when you’ll see him again. It doesn’t matter, you think, it’s worth it.

You and your friends grab your stuff behind the DJ booth, say goodbye, and head out to the parking lot. You know they're all waiting until you get to the car to pepper you with questions and giggles.

You feel like you're walking on a cloud.

The parking lot is pretty big and dark at this hour, you hear voices coming from some cars to the left and at first you don’t pay attention, then you clearly hear “Holy shit Joel!” and you stop.

It’s Tommy’s voice and from his tone he doesn’t seem happy.

You stay still without making any noise, hoping that the darkness will come to your aid.

“What do you plan on telling Tess when that girl calls you? Are you going to keep this a secret from her? Are you going to leave her?”

Your heart freezes.

No, not again.

“She’s been your girlfriend for three years, for Christ’s sake.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response, just Tommy screaming.

And you don’t care, he still has a girlfriend. Joel still has a girlfriend, even though he swore he’d dumped her.

You don't need to know anything else. You take your phone out of your bag, scroll through your contacts and block his number.

Your unaware friends have already reached the car and are putting their bags in the back seat. You reach them before they can call you out loud and slide into the back seat next to the bags, while they argue about who should sit in front you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.

You don't have the strength to admit that you were wrong, you don't have the strength to see them sad for you.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want it to, you'll swallow this morsel too in the end. It's just more bitter than you expected.

You're not shaking, it's just a little bit of you that's gone.

[rose-n-pepper]

Big Bad Scary Older Brother

Thinking back on the first time you met Touya Todoroki, and now you find yourself in his bed.

Chapter One(??): Meet Cute

—-------------- 

>> a/n: Please be kind, I’ve always been a fanfic reader and NEVER thought I would ever write one, but randomly I rewatched Josie and the Pussycats over the weekend (listen, I know it’s not a great movie, but the music is bomb and it is incredibly nostalgic for me. As a millennial I need nostalgia to feel things). Listening to the song “You Don’t See Me” I had this story just stroll into my mind! If this does well I have more chapters in mind to full flesh out the relationship and the song.

>> p/n: In this world, Touya survived the accident in the forest, and let's pretend that Hawks went to UA. I like the idea that they have a tight bro relationship.

>> warning: story ends with some smut, oral f receiving, a little rough but nothing over the top. MINORS DNI 

>> pairing: Touya Todoroki x fem reader

—-------------- 

The first time you met Touya Todoroki was on the front steps of the Todoroki household. He stood in front of you, the handle of the front door in his hand. His UA uniform made him more imposing as he towered over you. Echoes of the doorbell ringing throughout the house. Surprise etched on both your faces. He must have opened the door as you rang the bell.

You stumble backwards almost falling off your step. A strong hand quickly reaches out to steady you.

“Oh um, sorry, I am here to pick up Fuyumi for school.” You mutter out quickly.

“Ah you must be Y/N.” Touya smirks in response, then suddenly lets your arm go.

Still unbalanced you start falling backwards, right into a firm wall halting your fall.

“Todoroki, dude you didn’t have to let go of her like that,” two firm hands steady your fall and move you down the steps. You see a blur of red feathers move past you. “Even if you did see me, you sadistic fuck.” But the boy was laughing as he said it. As your eyes adjust you see a pair of beautiful red wings sprout from his back.

“Keigo,” you say out loud before you can stop yourself. You’ve heard endless rants from your friend Fuyumi about how dreamy Keigo is. Listened to her giggle about the life she has planned for them, even helped her practice kissing for when she finally could get him alone. “Oh sorry, um, Fuyumi has told me a lot about you is all.” You somehow mutter out as you fix your uniform which had come out of place.

“Is that so,” he smirks, “I knew it.” he looks at Touya and winks. Touya rolls his eyes in response.

“C’mon bird brain, we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.” He states as he brushes past his friend down the stairs stopping in front of you. He slowly looks you up and down and says, “Nice meeting you Y/N.” Locking eyes with you he nods his head to the right, entranced you move to the side allowing him to pass, never once breaking eye contact. 

He blinked in thanks and strolled down the path with his hands in his pockets, “Let’s go birdie.” He raised one scared arm in a final goodbye wave as Keigo rushes to catch up with his friend.

“Awe man, I didn’t even get to see Fuyumi yet dude.” At that statement Touya balled his raised hand and brought it down on his friend's head.

“I told you to stop saying shit like that, it’s fucking gross,” he grabs the blondes head forcing him to walk in a bow, “I’m her older brother after all”

“Alright, alright, let me go man, I’ll stop.” responds Keigo.

You watch their figures shrink as they walk farther away, their bickering fading into the distance. You snap back to reality by your friend calling your name.

“Y/N? What happened, did Touya do something stupid? Ugh, he’s so annoying.” She says as she shuts the door behind her and skips down to where you stand.

“Oh, no, it was an accident, he didn’t really say much at all. But,” you smile at your friend, “Keigo was here.” you say in a sing song voice to her.

“What! And I missed him!” She groans and drops her bag in defeat.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it much if I were you,” you side eye her, “He seemed a little interested if you ask me.” with that you sway away from your friend following the path giggling to yourself at the dumbfounded look on your friends face. She quickly gathers up her bag and jogs after you, demanding to know the details of what was said while you laugh.

You relay the conversation that happened between the two older boys and yourself to Fuyumi who is over the moon giddy. All while brushing your hand over where Touya had grabbed your arm to steady you. It still felt warm and tingly. 

You had only ever seen pictures and heard Fuyumi talk about how annoying and mean Touya was. But you didn’t find him mean at all. He seemed kind, in a subdued way. And hell, his sister might poke fun at him for his scars, but something about them made him extra mysterious and maybe even sexy? Definitely more interesting than any other boy in your grade.

As you and Fuyumi strolled down the well known path to your school, her going on about her and Hawks life together. You wondered what it might be like to get to know Touya better. There was something about him that intrigued you, and you wanted to figure out what it was.

🍋

Thinking back on that day ten years later, you are in a daze as Touya’s head is between your legs. suckling on your sensitive bud as his tongue traces lazy circles around it earning him a pleasurable moan from you.

“Heh, finally back are you.” He says into your core, licking your juices as he continues. “What got you so distracted while I’m down here?” With that last statement he gives your thigh a quick slap which you respond with a little shriek of surprise.

“To be honest, I was thinking about you. About the first time we met.” You answer, allowing yourself to catch your breath.

He stills and locks eyes with you, a few seconds go by and he slowly climbs up your naked body, leaving hot kisses along his path. Never breaking the intense eye contact. When he reaches eye level with you he sits both of you up placing you on top of him. You straddle his hips and feel the tip of his cock, wet with precum, begging to enter you.

Smirking he asks, “the time you fell off the stairs overwhelmed with feelings for me?” He touches his forehead against yours eagerly awaiting your response as he moves his tip over your slick folds. 

You laugh and roll your eyes in amusement and pleasure. “Oh sure, falling right off the steps into the arms of the dreamy hero Hawks. Thank goodness he was there, who knows where I would be right now if he wasn’t.”

Touya’s eyes turn deadly for a fleeting moment, you know that look all to well. You smile in anticipation of the amount of pleasure you are about to receive from the man under you. You attempt to slide down on his cock to instigate his wild side a little more. You knew him well, only a little more pushing is all he needed.

“But you know,” you sigh into his ear as your fingers trace the edges of his scars and body jewelry. “All those silly little Hawklets who fawn after him must be so vanilla, they don’t know what they're missing.” You lean back a little to look him in the eye where you are met with an intense burning, “I mean, one look at the hero Dabi and you know you’re going to be fucked senseless.”

That did it, he thrust up into you with and intensity that sent your head falling back and your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Heh, you don’t think I know what you’re doing?” He asks as he bites down on your neck, you moan in response.

“You’re smart, I know you know what I’m doing. But what can I say, I’m a sucker for this dick.” You stammer out between hard thrusts.

He throws you down on the bed, never breaking his rhythm. He grasps your breasts with his hands and begins pulling and twisting your perk nipples.

“That’s my girl.” The last words he says to you that night, as he spends the next hour pleasuring you in ways you hardly dreamed of. 

🍋

Content, you smile as your wrap yourself around the muscular sleeping frame of your partner. He was never one for aftercare, he had the hardest time staying awake after your escapades. It’s something you got used to and accepted. He showed how much he cared with his physicality in your love making and that was enough for you.

You softly place a kiss to his forehead and move his white hair out of his eyes. Snuggling up next to him you close your eyes and drift off to sleep. Thinking of how you two ended up together after so long.

[raccoonfallsharder]

The Very Boring Adventures of

Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl ✩°｡⋆

Domestic Scenes in Space Travel ✩ Installment One (excerpt & rating key behind the cut)

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 5/5 visits | complete | word count: 37,783.

In Rocket Raccoon: Grounded (2016) / Issue #3, Rocket asks a stranger on the ferry to "make sure nobody does anything weird" to him while he naps, and the stranger just, like, abandons him while he's sleeping?? who does that? when a stranger asks you to watch their stuff in a coffee shop, it's a holy obligation. x100 if it's a hot local space pilot trying to catch some Zs on the ferry. get in loser we're gonna fix it

reader x rocket domestic fluff & smut with feelings. comics-based but you don't need any comics background knowledge to ride this ride. excerpt below the cut.

Chapter One (The First Visit). rocket evades SHIELD by hiding in your purse. ✩ Chapter Two (The Second Visit). you and rocket eat omelettes in your underwear. ✩ Chapter Three (The Third Visit). rocket finds you naked & takes care of your cat. ✩ Chapter Four (The Fourth Visit). rocket teaches you about his tail. ❤︎‬❤︎ Chapter Five (The Fifth Visit). rocket stops by for a visit. ❤︎‬❤︎

WARNINGS: feelings & domestica. smut commences in the fourth visit. dirty talk, praise, use of "slut"/"whore" (affectionate), a little bit of oral.

✩ Domestic Scenes in Space Travel Masterlist ✩ Fuckin adorable sweatshirt girl art by @blueberrysquire ✩ forward one installment | return to main masterlist

That’s when you hear the screech from the hallway.

“Oh! Call Animal Control! Oh! It has rabies!”

“It is even still alive?”

“I heard it growl!”

Later, you won’t be able to say how you know.  There have been countless chaotic squirrels in the building before, and the occasional massive rat off the streets, though you suspect they all have much better reasons to be afraid of humans than vice versa. 

But you do know. Maybe it’s Mr Hobbes’ weird behavior or maybe it’s something more cosmic than that, but you know, and you grab your key off the hook and step into the corridor, still in just your bikini-briefs and a sweatshirt that almost goes to your knees.

Your gaze finds him unerringly: passed out, possibly injured, wedged in the doorway at the top of the stairwell with the heavy fire-door propped open on his ribs. 

“Uhhh,” you interrupt, pushing past your neighbors. “Sorry. Sorry. He’s my - “ you pause, thoughts colliding with each other “ - my friend.”

“Your friend?” says Josh From Down the Hall. He’s been bugging you to go out to dinner and drinks for months. “What is he, some kind of miniature furry?”

You roll your eyes and pull open the door, propping it with a hip while you try to hoist Rocket into your arms. Unfortunately, he weighs even more now - probably due to the heavy artillery on his back and at his hips, all of which makes him very awkward to carry. Geezus, one of these guns alone has to be at least as much as his body weight.  “He’s not a - “

“He must be your new cat,” says Brenda From Next Door, her voice a little doubtful. Brenda is harmless enough, though she can be annoying. “I hear millennials like to talk about their pets like they’re actual people.”

There’s way too much to unpack there and fuck. He weighs a ton. Your arms are shaking as you stagger past them. “He’s not - “

“He’s not a cat, Brenda,” Josh says rudely. “Didn’t you hear her? He’s her shrimpy, perverted boyfriend. Wasted in the friggin’ stairwell.”

You sigh. “Josh, this is why no-one wants to date you.” 

“You fuckin’ bitch - “

“Brenda, can you help me with the door?”

The older woman rushes to turn your doorknob and pushes it open for you, while also trying to stay as far away as she can from the Space Pilot in your arms. 

“Did something happen to Mr Hobbes then, dear? Is that why you got a new cat?”

Geezus. No wonder Rocket had been so exhausted of hearing people’s bullshit last time. It’s been five minutes and you’d cheerfully throttle both your neighbors. And you like to think you like people.

“Nope. He’s still alive and kickin’. Thanks, Brenda.”

You lean against the door when it closes behind you, shuffling the weight in your arms so you can slide the deadbolt and chain lock. By the time you get Rocket to the bedroom, you’re panting. Maybe the loveseat would have been the closer, better option, but you’re pretty scared you’re going to need to be able to access him from all sides. 

You rest him on the bed. Mr Hobbes is pacing in the doorway while you wipe the sweat from your brow and then tie up your hair with the elastic around your wrist. The cat meows pitifully.

“He’s gonna be okay, Hobbsie,” you mumble, looking down at your prodigal houseguest. He’s wearing some sort of jumpsuit with blood splashing up one side, but it’s hard to discern much thanks to the plethora of firearms he’s sporting. Carefully, you pick over the range of buckles and snaps and magnets holding his holsters in place. Some just look like grips, but have the weight of something much larger. You don’t know the first thing about guns, really, but you have a feeling that most of Rocket's don’t exactly have a safety.

Cautiously, you undo what you can, lifting each weapon with slow deliberation, keeping every barrel pointed away from you, from your wounded guest, and from Mr Hobbes. Probably these things can blow through sheetrock even better than regular bullets, so you lay them on the floor by the exterior wall, lined up neatly with the barrels pointed toward the brick.  

Then you’re unstrapping the harnesses, holsters, and straps of his jumpsuit. It’s been burnt in some places, torn and bloodied.

“Sorry, Space Pilot,” you say under your breath. “When you wake up, just remember that it’s not the first time I’ve seen you in your underwear.” 

read more on ao3 ✩°｡⋆

some explicit statements or references ✩ explicit scenes or fantasy sequences ❤︎‬ long, detailed, and graphic explicit content ❤︎‬❤︎‬ deliberately smut-free, mostly or entirely platonic ✮

[polutrope]

Number 23 (Going from a hot tub/sauna into snow/cold water), Galadriel and Celeborn (romantic or pre-romance, up to you)

For the modern AU holiday prompts! Here you are, Anon: ~1100 words of Galadriel meeting a cute boy at her 19th birthday party. (I received this same prompt for another couple, so there will be a part 2 of this with more actual snow jumping😉). Warnings for several f-bombs, some other swear words, and a millennial writing Gen Z. Sorry, besties.

Knotting her plush white robe loosely around her waist, Galadriel led the parade of her girlfriends onto the flagstones of Nevrast Nordic Spa.

Her friends chattered behind her.

“Yo, this place fucks.”

“For real.”

“Ahhh! Gal, it’s snowing!”

“Ugh, this is so boujee. I can’t believe I’m here.”

“Hey, sis,” Galadriel whirled on the last speaker. “No bad vibes, remember?” The other girls laughed. “Yeah, my rules, cause it’s my b-day, bitches!” She threw her arms out in a V-shape and struck a pose.

Edhellos lifted the phone dangling from her hand by a gold finger-loop and snapped a photo. “Ahh queen! You look so cute!” she said, looking at it, and hurried over to Galadriel to show her. Then she gestured to the others. “Come on, come on, babes, let’s get one of all of us.”

All four of Galadriel’s best friends huddled around her while Edhellos held her phone out as far as possible for a selfie.

“Okay, okay,” Galadriel said, and they all hushed. “So the way it works is you go hot, then cold, then relax. Hot pool or sauna, then cold pool or cold shower, then chill for fifteen minutes. And we're supposed to be quiet.”

They all nodded, except Nellas, who was a little removed from the group with her arms crossed over her chest. “I think I’ll just sit and read.”

“Oh come on, Nelly!” Edhellos whined. Evranin shushed her.

“No, it’s fine, Nel,” said Galadriel, and smiled. “Join us whenever.”

*

“I can’t believe we’re all nineteen now,” Lindis said a loud whisper as they lounged in the largest of the hot pools. “We’re so old.”

“Oh, please, spare me. You have no idea what old is,” said Evranin, who was all of twenty-one.

“Hey, I’m still eighteen for two weeks!” Edhellos protested. This time, Lindis shushed her.

Galadriel examined her pruny fingertips. “I don’t know. I’m kind of excited to get older. Maybe my dumbass family will stop treating me like a baby.”

At the mention of her family, Edhellos’ eyes lit up. “Oh hey, how’s Angrod?”

“Oh my god, Los,” said Lindis, “stop thirsting for her brothers!”

“Brother,” Edhellos corrected.

“I dunno.” Galadriel shrugged. “Maybe just ask him out already.”

Edhellos sputtered. The other girls giggled.

“I think Finrod is hotter,” Evranin said casually.

“He is way too old for you!”

“Isn’t he gay?”

“What? No! Galadriel said he had a girlfriend in Valin, remember?”

“The one he dumped?”

“No, she dumped him.”

While her friends debated the relative attractiveness and past relationships of her older brothers, Galadriel sank lower, rolling her shoulder blades back and forth over a water jet. She hummed contentedly and let her eyes fall shut. She’d been all nerves the last month with final exams and papers, but she was finally able to relax.

Just that morning her grades had come in: four A+ and one A (at least she was well above class average the last one). She’d also been taken off the waitlist for a seat in The Paranormal Mind. Thank fuck.

Everyone at Ondolindë University wanted to take that course, but Galadriel needed it if she was going to have any chance of doing her honours thesis with Melian Goel. Evranin, who was President of the Psychology Student Association, said that that Dr. Goel was planning to retire soon and might not be taking new students. Oh pleasepleaseplease, Galadriel thought, please take me.

She exhaled slowly and intentionally released the tension building in her neck. This wasn’t the time for worrying.

Then her eyes flew open and she bolted upright as a surge of water splashed over her.

“What the fuck!” she shouted, swiping the backs of her hands over her eyes.

“Celeborn, you dumb shit!” a male voice cried from behind her before breaking up into laughter.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” The person who’d narrowly missed tumbling on top of her rose from the water with an expression of sheer terror. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you okay? Oh god, I’m sorry. I slipped, we were racing from the…" Catching the look on Galadriel's face, his nose crinkled sweetly. "I guess that’s a pretty dumb excuse, huh?"

“Yeah, it is.” Galadriel smirked and bit her lip. He was her type: tall, slender but well-toned, and a little timid. Which was far preferable to the blustering arrogance that most guys her age — no, scratch that: all ages — liked to use to hide their emotional incompetence.

“That’s a sick tattoo,” she said, gesturing with her chin to the elegant tree climbing its way up one bicep.

“Oh, really?” he said. “Thanks. It’s a beech. There are a lot of them where I grew up, and— never mind, doesn’t matter. Thanks. Hey, by the way," he held out a hand, “my name’s Celeborn.”

“Galadriel.” His handshake was firm, but not too firm. Long fingers, too. A little spark of excitement shot down her arm as she pulled back. “So, you were racing—?”

She was cut off by a whoop from his friend still standing on the flagstones behind them, which prompted Galadriel’s friends, who’d huddled by the small waterfall at the opposite end of the pool, to finally take notice of the interaction.

As Celeborn’s friends — the first now joined by two more — slid into the pool, Galadriel’s group drifted over like a train of ducklings lured by breadcrumbs.

“Hey, I’m Galathil,” the loud one said, “and this is Mablung, and Beleg. Celeborn here is my little brother.”

Galathil attempted to ruffle Celeborn's silver-blond hair, but it clung wetly to his head.

“Hi,” Galadriel waved coolly, then dragged her eyes from Celeborn to the empty space beside her, beckoning him to sit before someone else did.

He picked up on the cue, seating himself at a respectable distance; but to his right, Edhellos slyly shuffled over so that he too was forced to scoot closer to Galadriel.

“Yeah,” he said, in answer to her interrupted question. “We thought it would be fun to, you know, go from the sauna into the snow,” he pointed to the snow banks around the spa area, “and then from the snow to the hot tub.”

“Oh really?” Galadriel’s eyebrows shot up, and Celeborn looked sheepish. “You know you’re supposed to ‘relax’ in between the cold and going back to the hot?”

Several of Galadriel’s friends giggled.

“Huh?” said Celeborn.

“You’re supposed to go hot, cold, then relax for fifteen minutes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Galadriel smiled and smacked his arm lightly. “But the snow thing sounds fun.”

His face split into a dashingly handsome smile that dimpled his cheeks. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.”

“Hey fam,” she called to her friends. “Wanna jump in the snow?”

“What!” shrieked Lindis.

“Hell no,” said Evranin.

“Ahh so fun, yes please!” Edhellos squealed, and levered herself out of the hot tub. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Lit,” said Galathil to no one in particular, and followed her.

“Come on,” Galadriel said to Celeborn as the others squirmed and scurried out of the pool in various states of enthusiasm. “I’ll hold your hand so you don’t slip this time.”

[marley-rose]

kiss your lips sore || marley & elijah 📝

TAGGING → marley rose & @elijahwilde

LOCATION → psu mixer

TIME FRAME → 7/13/2024

NOTES → what starts out as just friends chatting ends in multiple orgasms that only one of them will remember the next day. NSFW, obvi??

Marley grabbed a cherry coke from the bar and headed back toward the party, only to be stopped in her tracks when she saw...well, him. That's what he was to her, in her head. He was the only person who could stop her in her tracks in this specific way. She could tell she'd caught his eye and she smiled at him brightly, closing the gap between them and giving him a one-armed hug. He smelled good, looked good....was good. Always good to her in every way. God. "I didn't know if I'd see you here, but I'm so glad I did. These things aren't really my jam, I feel like I'm older than everyone. When did that happen?"

The night had been... weird, for lack of a better word, but Elijah was still holding out hope that like, something would go right. His eyes scanned the room, looking for someone who would make the night some hilarious story to tell rather than just a faded, drunken memory, and he did happen upon one Marley Rose. Perfect. "Stop it, Mars Bar," Elijah scoffed, wrapping his arms around her and grinning. "Because if you say that we're the village elders, here, I'm going to have to jump out a window. I purposefully caught up on all Gen Z slang so that nobody would actually know me as a millennial. Want to hear about my rizz?"

"Only if you want me to lose my girl dinner," Marley hit back, her nose crinkling in a laugh at her own dumb joke. "But seriously, I'm so glad I ran into you, I was losing hope and feeling a little too awkward. I'm fine on stage, I never get nervous playing to a full room, but parties always make me feel like I'm in sixth grade again, standing on the wall, like no one sees me and I don't want them to. Except, well, you see me, and I mean, that's not so bad."

"Girl dinner," Elijah sang back to her, waving his hand like he was attempting some kind of Mariah Carey-level riff. At the mention of her feeling awkward, he shook his head, and tugged her even closer. "You're so silly," he began, but meant it in the kindest and most loving way. "You're Marley freaking Rose. Literally the sweetest and most compassionate person in the entire world. Like, I get being nervous but on the other hand, every single person at this party would be better off knowing you and having you in their life. I fully believe that."

God, he couldn't just say stuff like that, could he? It was making it harder and harder for her to stop thinking about him like that, and she'd been making a valiant effort. She shook her head, "Have you and Lilah started my official fan club yet? Because you'd be really great co-presidents," she said with a little laugh. "I don't know if I'm the sweetest and most compassionate person in the entire world, but I mean, I will accept the title as long as it comes from you," she touched his shoulder affectionately and sipped her drink, "This is just cherry coke, by the way. I didn't want to be old and drunk at this thing."

I will fight her to be president of your fan club," Elijah said, looking at her very seriously and giving her a tiny bit of side eye. No, he was really kidding, but he hoped Marley would see it. "It's all good. I'll believe it enough for you until you can. Sound good?" Grinning, he tapped his own cup against hers, which decidedly did not contain only cherry coke-- but a Shirley Temple with vodka. "Oh, I'm two for two, Mars. Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

Marley snorted a laugh, "No, you're like, the only reason I'm not leaving," she confessed, cheeks pink. Damn. She smiled, "You're not an annoying drunk, you maintain your charm. I, however...just start crying or making out with a stranger apparently, all judgement and charm goes out the window!" she rolled her eyes, remembering the last time she'd gotten well and truly drunk, "I feel like I haven't recovered from the last time I got too messed up...and it was forever ago!"

Elijah laughed, but again, it was good natured and only stemmed from how adorable he thought Marley was. “Hey, I support all of your choices! If you want to drunkenly make out with a stranger, I’ll hold your bev.” He wasn’t gonna let her cry that night, though. “It’s like… scratching an itch, I guess? If you enjoy it, then once in a while doesn’t hurt.”

Marley thought on it; he wasn't wrong, not exactly. "Well what are you drinking?" she asked curiously, eyeing his cup. " 'Cause if I was gonna switch over, it'd have to be something pretty good, ya feel?"

“I’ve got a Dirty Shirley.” He hated the name as soon as he spoke it, and laughed. “Sorry, that sounds soooo fucking creepy? It’s a Shirley Temple with vodka. Tastes like candy. Do you want a sip to see if you like it?” He held it out to her.

Marley giggled at his phrasing, "Ohhhh no. I wish I'd recorded you saying that to save for posterity," she said. She nodded, "Hm, sure, why not?" She took a sip of his drink, the fruity taste hitting her nicely as the burn of the vodka tingled her throat, "Oh damn, I love this," she said with a smile. "Okay, okay, let's go get me one," she conceded, "I'm convinced."

“Amazing,” Elijah flagged the bartender and ordered another one. “A little sweet and a little bite, just like you.” When the bartender brought the drink back, Elijah clinked his glass against hers. “Cheers. To old friends and new adventures.”

There was that word again, friends. The loop that she'd got herself stuck in by not being brave. A little bite? What bite? Was the bite in the room with us? If she had bite, she'd kiss him right now, or she would've kissed him years ago when there was still any hope of anything happening. She put her smile back on her face and hoped the drink would loosen her up. She clinked glasses with him and took a drink, "Oh, that's beautiful, I could write a song about this very moment."

“Do it!” Elijah encouraged, nodding at her. “I would love to watch you write a song. I feel like it would be like watching Albert Einstein do math. I bet that music from Ratatouille plays, too. You know, the one where they’re cooking and in the zone? Would that be confusing, though? If music plays in your head that is different from the music you’re trying to write?”

Marley snorted, grabbing a tiny notepad and a pen from her purse - this wasn't an odd thing for her, inspiration was everywhere. "The lyrics usually come first, but not always perfectly formed, kind of just like, general ideas." In the notebook, she scribbled, out of his view: this tastes like candy but i bet it'd taste better on your mouth, bet i taste better than all the girls before, bet you'd never leave and it'd never go south if i was brave enough to kiss your lips sore, lalalala? maybe? As she wrote, her brow furrowed. How bold of her, actually, to write lyrics about him in front of him. "See, the music will come later. I actually have a lot of instrumentals and beats that I put together that might fit. We'll see later." She took another swig of dirty shirley and smiled at him.

Elijah read the words over her shoulder and was convinced suddenly of his ability to hallucinate. “Is this fiction?”

Marley thought she'd successfully kept her scribbles out of his view, but of course, she'd been concentrating so hard that she forgot to factor in that he could move to read them. She swallowed hard, her cheeks red. "Sometimes I write fiction, à la folklore..." she trailed off, but she felt it would lack artistic integrity to lie right now, aaaand maybe she was a lightweight, and despite having drained only half of her dirty shirley, she felt a little courageous, "But. this isn't that," she finished her thought boldly, taking another drink and looking him in his eyes.

Elijah stared at her for a moment, wondering if this was one of those alcohol induced fever dreams that Marley had been talking about. Getting sloppy, making out with a stranger. Personally, he’d never seen her exhibit that kind of behavior before, but he knew that someone’s perception of themselves could be brutal in even the best of cases. It was with all the courage and most likely none of the sense in his head that he narrowed his eyes at her. He made sure both of their drinks were nowhere in spilling zone before he carefully tugged her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. “If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask, Mars.”

Marley's eyes widened, but she didn't pull back, already feeling heat between her legs at how close he was to begin with, but now that he was under her, that was different. Shit. She smirked at his declaration, but realized he was for real when she saw the want in his eyes, and she wondered if he in turn could see the want in her own. She tilted his chin up and leaned in to kiss him softly, but her body had other plans. It wasn't soft, it was full force, it was cherry and vodka and a taste that belonged to just him. She sucked on his bottom lip and let his hands roam her body as they pleased, years of tension on her side breaking in one moment, and she felt fucking alive. She was right though, the dirty shirley did taste better on his mouth.

In no universe was Elijah expecting that this would be how the night went, but he certainly wasn't going to complain nor take this opportunity for granted. He'd expected something sweet, and nothing could have prepared him from the way she took over. Was it the alcohol making both of them brave? Or was this something she'd actually wanted? "Marley..." he moaned out her name as she deepened the kiss, tugging her impossibly closer onto his lap. He broke away from her, only to trail kisses down her jaw and settled in the curve of her neck, nipping at her skin and soothing it over with his lips. "You're mine tonight."

"I'm never anyone else's," she murmured, a total slip of the tongue, but a truth nonetheless. She tilted her neck back to give him more access, and without any permission from herself, she found herself grinding down into his lap in a room full of people, the ache between her legs simply needing a little something. She let out a small gasp at the sensation, goosebumps forming on her body under his touch, "We need to go somewhere," she whispered against his ear, "This is gonna get really real really fast," she reasoned, as if she wasn't literally riding him with their clothes on.

At the feel of her hips against him, Elijah knew that she was right. He was very quickly feeling his body start to react to her, and knew she could, too. Even the tiniest movement of her hips was making his breathing start to get ragged. He forced himself to break away from her neck and instead cupped her cheeks with his hands, giving her a kiss that was still passionate but not one that would end with them ripping their clothes off at the mixer in front of everyone. "Do you... want to come back with me? To my place? Or... would you rather find a dark corner?"

"Corner," Marley said breathily, knowing they'd probably just start in the back of the uber and ruin one of their ratings. "Take me somewhere, anywhere," she whispered against his ear, lust and a bit of the drink clouding her normally rational mind. This was so not what she'd normally do, but she also wasn't normally with the one person she thought about every night before bed. She hopped off his lap and extended her hand for him to take, and when they connected - yeah, maybe it was a static shock, pure science like her sister would say, but maybe it was the spark she was always singing about in her songs. Maybe, just maybe.

Elijah was ready to carry her to the corner if need be, but as he reached for her hand he brought it to his lips and kissed it. When they were far enough away from the rest of the party, and Elijah had found an alcove that was tucked far enough away that nobody could possibly find them, he gave her about a minute to process before pinning her to the wall and kissing her. “Do you even know how crazy you make me?” He asked, as he pressed up against her to let her feel just exactly what she’d done to him.

The second she felt him hard against her thigh, it was game over. She didn't even think, she just reached down to palm him through his pants, nipping at his jaw, "That's the thing, I didn't know," she said breathily, "But this is a good way to find out," she said, pressing a kiss to his mouth again, grinding herself against him in a way that she simply couldn't help.

Elijah whined against her lips as she palmed him, and he shifted to give her a better vantage point to grind against his thigh. “Take what you need, gorgeous.” Man, if she wanted to use him, he was the most willing for it. “I’ve wanted to kiss you every time we sing together,” he mumbled against her lips, as his hands skimmed down her sides to rest on her hips, encouraging her to move. “And that’s not the only way I’ve wanted to taste you…” He trailed off into another moan, kissing her with more fervor than he had now that the eyes were no longer on them.

Marley was torn between lust and pure adoration at his words, but the pulse between her legs was really winning out. She kissed him back hard, so hard that it practically hurt, but it hurt so fucking good, "Mmf, yeah?" she murmured, "Show me where you wanna taste me," she teased, carding her hand through his hair and locking eyes with him.

He needed no further permission, and as soon as he lasered in on her ocean blue eyes, he knew he was a goner. Elijah moved slowly, hoping to give her every possible out if she wanted him to stop, but trailed kisses all the way down her body before he knelt in front of her, his fingers just brushing against her thigh. “Can I kiss you here?” He asked, referring to the circles he was tracing under her skirt. “That’s one of the places I’ve wanted to taste.”

Marley bit her lip as she looked down at him, "Yeah," she whispered, "God, yeah," she practically whined, feeling the fabric of her panties completely soak now, she spread her legs apart to give him room to get where he needed, never taking her hands out of his hair.

With her permission given, Elijah gently pushed up her skirt and nearly felt the wind get knocked out of him. Marley’s voice, which was his favorite sound, somehow was even more intoxicating in this moment. He pressed kisses to the inside of her thigh, every few movements biting down and then easing it over with his tongue. When he got to her panties, he gently pushed them to the side to kiss her again, closer to her center wanting to see how reactive she was. He wasn’t surprised to find her already wet, but shocked that he’d been the one to do it to her. In one swift movement, he hooked his index finger over the waistband and tugged them down. One hand reached for hers, the other kept her skirt in place as he began working her up.

Marley couldn't stop herself from letting out whines and moans, and when he reached for her hand, honestly? For her that was the best part. She squeezed his hand as he dove in, her mouth falling open when she felt the heat of his mouth on her. She'd thought about this before, of course, but nothing could prepare her for the reality, the beast that was awakening inside of her every second this went on, "So damn good..." she whined.

Elijah knew the number one rule of going down on a girl was to not stop but he couldn’t help feeling proud of himself that he was the one doing this to Marley. He hummed against her, shifting his approach over to suction and nudging her hips in an encouragement to move. Elijah was ready to make sure she couldn’t walk by the end of the night. He squeezed her hand again, looking up at her with adoring eyes. He moaned, but it came out more like a hum against her body.

Marley's moans were getting higher, and higher still, and of course, she wasn't singing, but she sort of felt like she was. Marley squeezed his hand back, they were communicating without words, they didn't need them. She knew exactly what he wanted from her. She rested a leg on his shoulder and let herself fuck his face, grinding against his mouth as her cries got louder and higher - surely people could hear them if not see them, right? She didn't care. "Eli 'm gonna cum," she whimpered, her legs shaking.

Elijah nodded, humming against her still as he encouraged her, determined to make this the best damn sexual experience she’d ever had. Tall orders, but still. “Mhm,” he encouraged, enjoying the feeling like he was completely surrounded by her. Elijah shifted so that their fingers were interlaced instead, and squeezed her hand twice this time. He wanted her to know he was right there with her.

Marley ground herself against him a couple more times, and then she squeezed his hand hard as she felt her orgasm hit her, her moans turning to happy little sighs as her hips stuttered against him, "Oh my God," she murmured, placing her foot back on the floor so she wouldn't keel over, her whole body practically vibrating. All she wanted to do was kiss him again, "C'mere, c'mere," she commanded.

Elijah rode her through it, holding himself back slightly since he knew she might be sensitive. She wanted kisses, and he wanted to give them to her. Turning her down probably had to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, but Elijah shook his head. Instead, he continued, kissing at her folds and waited until she showed him she was ready to go right back into it.

Marley took a second to understand what was happening, catching on quickly, and smirked when she did, "You're bad," she murmured, taking a second to breathe before hitching her leg back on his shoulder and reaching her hand out for him again, letting her head fall back as he practically devoured her for a second time. "Shit," she hissed, a little sensitive, but the tiny bit of hurt felt good.

Elijah held in most of his laugh, but it trailed off into a moan as he set himself up. He could have stayed there all night, drowning them both in pleasure. Forget the fact that he was starting to get uncomfortably hard against his pants, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did, other than making sure that Marley had no words other than curses and his name. He urged her to move her hips again as he gave her suction, moaning without a care who heard them.

Marley followed his lead, grinding her hips against him slowly at first, then a little faster, the ache building in her feeling impossibly sweet, just fucking gorgeous. She didn't know she liked a hint of pain until just now. The way he sucked her was almost too fucking much, and she loved the too-muchness of it all. She felt tingly everywhere, even her toes. She rocked harder against his face, her moans starting to sound more like sobs, but God was she happy.

Her voice was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard in his life, and he knew he’d do anything to get her to make these sounds again. As she reached her second climax, Elijah slid one finger inside her, searching for the spot that would make her really scream. He didn’t want to break his movements but he did want to tell her to let go.

Marley felt it hitting her again, like a fucking truck. She let out a moan-sob and felt herself shaking like a leaf as she let go, "Fuck," she cried. "Oh God, baby," she whined. She felt like she was on a higher plane of existence - no one had made her feel like this in a long fucking time, if ever. She wasn't sure if she'd ever felt quite this good with anyone, now that she thought about it.

This time, after Elijah rode her through it, he did stand up, take her into his arms, and kiss her. “You were so good for me,” he mumbled in between kisses, as he lifted her up and pinned her to the wall. “So fucking good, Marley.” He sighed, peppering kisses on her face.

Marley let herself be lifted and kissed him back with fervor, "I always wanted to be," she whispered, her senses buzzing. Everything from how he smelled to how he tasted to how good he just made her feel just made her need him to never stop touching her.

"I think we need to get out of here," Elijah swallowed, his voice very rough as he shifted his attention to her neck. "I can't have you in all the ways I want you on this desk, as fun as that would be. And you deserve a bed, really."

Marley's chest swelled with affection at his words, "So take me somewhere," she said matter of factly, pulling back to kiss him sweetly before moving to smooth her skirt down in preparation to simply blow this pop-stand. She bit her lip, her wet center still throbbing from all the attention it was getting. "You coming?"

Elijah reached for her hand and grinned. “Sure am. Should we go see if they’ll give us a room?” Maybe not the most romantic of circumstances, but he’d certainly make do with what he was given.

Marley nodded, "Mhm, yeah," she said, taking his hand and walking out of their little hidey-hole, making their way to the front desk. They probably looked like lovestruck teenage idiots as they approached the bored looking woman behind the keyboard, but Marley couldn't bring herself to care. "Hi! We'd like a room please, whatever you have available," she said confidently, like she wasn't requesting a room to fuck this man in right this minute. It was about to be a long, long night.

Marley didn't know this at the time, but she'd definitely left her underwear somewhere in that hotel, and also probably some of her dignity.

[penguin-mountain]

Someone asked me what my gender was and I said Flower

[hamsterclaw]

Sketchy

You and Jungkook left your past lives, together. Your ex-boyfriend wants your help, and he's pulling you back into the life you left behind.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! reader, Taehyung x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol gang AU, smut, angst

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Sexually explicit scenes, explicit language, criminal activity

Dear reader - the first half of this part is set in the present day, and the second half is set 7 years earlier.

Part 1

Present day

His eyes meet yours, and the intensity in them makes you stumble over your words.

You make a hasty recovery.

‘So, just to reiterate, we’ll implement the suggested changes and check in before the re-audit next month,’ you say.

There’s a sudden shift in the energy of the room. Initially you assume it’s because you’ve stopped speaking and people are getting ready to go, then someone giggles.

You glance at the projected image behind you, which should be your presentation, and freeze.

It’s a nude sketch of a woman.

Not just any woman, you realise, with dawning horror.

She’s got her hair in a ponytail like yours, and is wearing a floral blouse like yours, but unlike yours, hers is unbuttoned, her tits fully exposed.

It’s a nude sketch of you, projected on the screen behind you, in a room full of your co-workers, who already hate you because you’ve been promoted into a job where your predecessor was well-loved, and you’re relatively new.

You look around the room wildly. There are some sympathetic faces, but most people look like they’re enjoying this. Laughing at you.

His eyes are unreadable.

You close your laptop and leave the room. You walk down the corridor, out the main entrance to the building. People walk by you, oblivious to the burning shame you feel.

You walk to the nearby park, coatless, your laptop in your arms, sink down onto a park bench, and cry.

***

Jungkook’s waiting by your desk. He needs to speak to you.

He’s been waiting nearly an hour by the time you come back to your desk.

Your face is flushed from the cold, the tip of your nose pink. Your eyes are swollen from crying, and the guilt he feels swells when he realises you’re still clutching your laptop to your chest, like a shield.

You don’t meet his eyes.

‘Y/N,’ he says.

You’re reaching for your coat, slipping it over your shoulders. He watches as you pick up the framed photo of your family on your desk, one of the few personal items you have in your workspace, and slip it into your handbag.

Finally, you look up at him.

‘Did you draw that, Jungkook?’ you ask.

Jungkook meets your eyes steadily. ‘Yes,’ he admits.

You flinch as though he’s struck you.

Jungkook is about to apologise, to explain, when he realises you are walking away.

The news of your resignation spreads like wildfire in the office, but you’re not around to hear it.

***

You’re taking out the rubbish, loading up the wheelie bins for collection day.

You’re at your parents’ house, it’s the only option to you as a snowflake millennial who spends all your money on avocado toast and artisan coffee. At least whilst you’re searching for another job.

You’re just checking the bins won’t roll when you hear footsteps approach.

‘You ok, Y/N?’ Jungkook asks.

He looks beautiful, he always has. Today he’s wearing a black top with discreet branding that would probably cost you a month’s rent. His hair is floppy, naturally straight, falling into his eyes.

‘Yeah good, Jungkook,’ you say. You turn back towards your house.

‘Hey, I didn’t project that sketch of you at that meeting,’ he tells you.

You roll your eyes. ‘It was your drawing, wasn’t it?’

‘It was, and I’m sorry.’ Jungkook grabs your arm just as you reach your back door. ‘Donghyun was looking over my shoulder whilst I was drawing and I didn’t realise.’

You shake your head in disgust. Donghyun’s a prick, you should have realised he’d be involved.

You can forgive Donghyun, because you don’t know him at all.

Not like you know Jungkook. He lives next door to you, you went to the same school for years.

Your father wanders into the kitchen. ‘Hi Jungkook, just popping in?’

Jungkook and you look at each other.

‘He’s just leaving. He was helping me with the bins,’ you tell your dad.

You cock an eyebrow at Jungkook, silently daring him to contradict you, maybe to admit to your dad that he let a naked sketch of you be projected onto a screen in front of everyone.

That he drew a naked sketch of you.

Jungkook’s eyes are pleading, but he doesn’t say anything as you shut the door firmly in his face.

***

You’re carrying your suitcase carefully up three flights of stairs to your new apartment. The lifts had been working when you went on your viewing, but from a brief chat with another tenant outside the lifts, you gather that at least one broken lift is the norm in this building.

Your new neighbourhood is a little more run down than you’d like, but your tiny apartment is nice enough, and clean enough.

You’re unpacking when there’s a knock at the door.

You crack your door open, peering around a little suspiciously.

You sigh when you realise it’s Jungkook.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask. The door to the apartment down the hall from you opens, and one of your neighbours shuffles out.

You grab Jungkook’s arm and tug him into your apartment.

‘How did you know I’d be here?’ you ask.

Jungkook looks a little uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry. Your mom asked me to check on you.’

‘I’m fine. Your duty’s done,’ you say.

Jungkook doesn’t move, and you sigh. ‘Want a drink?’

You pour out a glass of water and pass it to him.

Jungkook looks out your window, at the view of the basketball court, the chain-link fence around it.

You look at Jungkook. His sleeve falls back when he raises his hand to sip his water, and you see, amidst his tattoo sleeve, the head end of a tiger.

It matches the tiger tattooed across your rib cage, curled across your torso.

Jungkook’s seen it, although he kindly left it off the sketch he showed your co-workers.

‘What’s your new job?’ he asks. He seems interested in the answer.

‘Data entry,’ you say, dismissively.

‘You should have gone to HR and told them about the sketch. I’d have been dismissed, you’d still be in your job,’ Jungkook tells you.

‘There’s no way I could have clawed back any credibility after what happened,’ you say.

In your early twenties, you earned respect through making people fear you. Now, you play by arbitrary rules in the name of social acceptability, and people keep walking all over you.

You’re not sure why you’d take any advice from Jungkook anyway. If he hadn’t wanted Donghyun to project his sketch, he would have stopped him.

In your former lives, you’d had to work hard to make people be wary of you, but all Jungkook had to do was walk into a room. His reputation had preceeded him.

Maybe a part of him wanted to shame you. You wouldn’t put it past him.

‘Taehyung was asking about you. Jimin said,’ Jungkook tells you.

Taehyung is your ex-boyfriend. You’d left him, and the gang, at the same time.

‘I haven’t seen him in years,’ you say, truthfully. You smile, unable to hide the edge of cynicism in your tone. ‘Couldn’t handle me being the boss of you, Jungkook?’

You’re referring to your recent promotion at your former job.

Jungkook laughs darkly. ‘I always do what you say, Y/N. I just imagine you naked when I’m doing it.’

‘I imagine you naked too, JK. I just don’t draw it out so everyone can see.’

And just like that you’re both laughing.

Jungkook sneers at your apartment. ‘Are you really staying here?’

‘I’d rather stay here, safe,’ you say, simply. You don’t need to voice the alternative.

Jungkook nods. ‘If I hear more about Taehyung asking about you, I’ll let you know.’

If Kim Taehyung decided to track you down, you doubt Jungkook would be able to do anything about it, not without getting himself in a whole heap of trouble. You know Jungkook knows this, so you nod back.

***

Seven years earlier

You leave your last class and immediately head to the community centre.

You’re on your eighth lap of the pool when you see him. He’s fully dressed, sitting on a bench at the end of the pool.

When you get out of the pool, he’s standing by the changing rooms.

‘You’re a good swimmer,’ he tells you.

You don’t have to look around to know he’s speaking to you. Barely anyone goes swimming here, it’s at the edge of town, in a rough area.

‘You going to recruit me for the Olympics?’ you ask, bored.

He laughs. ‘You must be hungry. Can I take you out?’

His eyes roam your swimsuit-clad body, blatantly, not trying to hide that he’s checking you out.

You shake your head. ‘My parents have made me dinner.’

You’re stepping past him when he says, ‘Maybe next time. I’m Taehyung.’

You smile politely. ‘Y/N.’

***

Jungkook and his parents are at your house for dinner.

You pass him the fried chicken, and he helps himself like he’s a starving man.

‘How are your classes going, Y/N?’ Mrs Jeon asks you.

You smile at her. ‘I’m enjoying them,’ you tell her, sincerely. You’re doing a diploma in hospitality at the local college.

Mrs Jeon and your mother are discussing the Kims’ new business, and your fathers are talking about football.

‘Want to see my bike?’ Jungkook asks, finally.

You’re not that interested, but you nod. You excuse yourselves and go over to Jungkook’s house.

He’s working on a motorcycle, from what you can gather.

You flop down on the beat-up old sofa in Jungkook’s garage.

‘Tell me about your bike,’ you say to Jungkook.

Jungkook scoffs. ‘You’ll just fall asleep again.’

‘And?’ you ask.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he starts talking anyway. You drift away as he’s talking about carburetors.

***

Sometimes when you swim you try to keep your head underwater for as long as possible.

You love being submerged, away from sharp noises, bright lights, the immediacy of your surroundings.

Your feet push off against the wall of the pool. It takes you a few moments to realise there’s someone swimming in the adjoining lane.

He’s looking at you.

It’s the guy who asked you to dinner. Taehyung.

You turn your face away and speed up, leaving him in your wake.

By the time you’re ready to get out, he’s sitting on the edge of the pool, legs submerged.

‘My uncle owns a restaurant,’ he tells you. He smiles, and you find yourself smiling back at him.

‘What kind of food?’ you ask.

‘Dumplings,’ he tells you. ‘I’ll take you there.’

You tilt your head at him. ‘I’ll meet you outside.’

Taehyung’s waiting for you outside the community centre, duffle bag strapped across his body, by the time you get out.

He’s got a sweatband across his forehead, wet hair slicked back. All his clothes are oversized, but you know he’s in good shape, modest rash vest he wears for swimming notwithstanding.

He smiles at you. ‘Ready?’

Taehyung’s uncle’s restaurant is in an upscale part of town. He takes you into the back entrance, through the kitchen. He’s greeted cheerfully by everyone you pass.

He leans back in his seat, watching as you pick up a dumpling and bring it to your mouth.

‘Tasty, right?’ he asks.

‘So good,’ you say.

‘I can make dumplings too,’ he tells you, straight-faced.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, intrigued.

‘Yeah. I’ve been helping out here since I was a kid,’ Taehyung tells you.

You smile at him. ‘What do you do now?’

‘I help my uncle with his other businesses,’ Taehyung says.

You sometimes wonder what would have happened if you’d pressed him on the detail there and then, but to be perfectly honest, you were intrigued by Kim Taehyung from the moment you met him, and you doubt anything would have stopped you from wanting to get to know him better.

***

You step out of Taehyung’s car, and wave him off.

Jungkook comes out of his garage, wiping his oil-stained hands on his trousers, as you walk up your driveway.

‘Who was that?’ he asks.

You look at him. ‘Just a friend, dad,’ you say, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. ‘You’re wet,’ he says.

For a moment you just look at him, blush already rising in your cheeks.

Jungkook laughs. ‘I mean your hair,’ he says, and he smirks at you.

You would punch him, but he’s already turning back to his motorbike.

The asshole knows an exit line when he sees one.

***

You’re a big believer in slutty Halloween costumes. Your and Jungkook’s parents are out to dinner, and you’ve already told your parents you’re staying at a friend’s tonight.

You stop by Jungkook’s garage on your way out, mainly because you like teasing him.

He’s leaning over his bike, and for a moment you just watch him.

You’ve always thought he’s handsome, but you never really thought of him as sexy before your friends started swooning over him. He’s always been just Jungkook, the boy you have to hang out with because he’s your neighbour and your parents are friends.

At school, you were on the swim team and in the dance club, whilst he spent his time skipping class and hanging with the art crowd, so you rarely saw each other.

It looks to you like Jungkook is also a member of the slutty Halloween club. Turns out you do have something in common after all.

He’s wearing leather trousers, stomper boots and some sort of harness across his chest. His right arm is bare, and you can see tattoos scattered across his arm. You hadn’t realise he had so many, he’s always in long-sleeved shirts when he comes over.

You’re still staring when he turns around.

He lets out a low whistle.

His eyes go from your cat ears to your loose hair to your cropped black top, to your leather short shorts, down the length of your legs to your fishnets and boots.

‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’ he asks. In contrast to the way his eyes are drinking you in, his voice sounds amused.

‘A cat,’ you say. You turn to show him your long black furry tail.

Jungkook leans against his bike.

‘What are you supposed to be?’ you ask.

‘A tease,’ he replies, and it’s so close to what you were thinking about him earlier, that you let out a surprised laugh.

You nod to his exposed arm, flexing as he props himself up against the seat of his bike.

‘Your tattoo sleeve looks good,’ you say.

Jungkook barely glances down. ‘Where are you headed?’ he asks.

‘Just a party,’ you say. ‘I won’t be back tonight, so don’t wait up, dad.’

Jungkook just raises an eyebrow. ‘Call me if you need a lift.’

‘You don’t have to look after me, Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your….teasing.’

He’s standing so close to you now you have to look up to meet his eyes.

‘You’re the tease,’ Jungkook says. He reaches behind you to tug your tail.

He hasn’t touched you at all, yet you feel breathless like he’s just been bending you over his bike.

‘Stay safe,’ he says, and you throw him a look over your shoulder as you walk out.

***

Your back is against the wall, and Taehyung is leaning over you, so close his lips ghost your cheek as he speaks.

‘I should introduce you,’ he says. ‘To everyone.’

You’re at a party hosted by one of Taehyung’s friends, a tall, aloof-looking guy called Chang who barely looked you in the eye but made sure to thoroughly check out your legs and tits.

Even just a year later, you’d make sure anyone who dared to look at you like that would pay the price, but nineteen-year-old you just accepts it, is flattered, even.

‘Who else do I need to meet?’ you ask, brushing your lips against his throat.

Taehyung’s skin is warm against your mouth.

‘No one,’ he says. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

Taehyung’s kissing you hungrily, lips crashing against yours. His tongue licks at your lower lip, slipping into your mouth to taste you.

His warm hand slides over your bare back, lifting your top. He stares at your breasts in your lacy push up bra, licking his lips.

He lifts both your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples as he sucks a hickey into the flesh of your left breast.

‘Don’t leave a mark where anyone can see,’ you warn him.

Taehyung lifts a brow at you, lips popping off your skin.

‘You live next door to Jeon Jungkook, don’t you?’ he asks.

‘You know him?’ you ask. Taehyung is tugging at the button of your shorts because he’s discovered they’re too tight for him to slip his hand into.

‘I’m jealous of him, living next to you, seeing you look like this every day,’ Taehyung says.

‘I didn’t wear this for him,’ you tell Taehyung, cupping his cheek. Not just for him, anyway, your honest conscience amends.

Taehyung growls. He’s tugging your shorts off, and you lift your hips to help him.

You’re bending over, trying to get your shorts off over your boots, when Taehyung reaches between your legs and rips a hole in your fishnets.

‘Tae!’ you cry.

He’s slipped your panties to one side and is plunging his fingers into you, thumbing your clit.

Taehyung is enjoying the view as he makes you cry out with his fingers. Your long hair is everywhere, and he gathers up a fistful of it, tugging your head back.

You never complain, and that always makes him want to hurt you more.

He pulls his fingers out of you and fists his cock.

‘Ready?’ he grunts. He doesn’t wait for an answer.

You take his cock like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life, and god, he loves how eager you are.

‘Fuck, Tae,’ you chant.

Taehyung closes his eyes, holding still, fully inside you. He’s not sure if you’re clenching around him on purpose or if it’s involuntary, but it feels incredible.

You’re trying to move, so he slaps your ass.

You jerk a little, and his hands tighten on your hips.

He slides his hand over your hip, stroking your clit, circling his hips, pumping into you slowly, almost gently.

‘Tae,’ you moan. ‘Tae, I’m cumming.’

‘Let me hear you,’ he says.

He circles again, then fucks into you, enjoying the way your breath is coming out in sobs as he slams his hips against your ass.

‘So good,’ he groans, ‘so fucking good.’ He’s fucking you harder now, faster, seeking his own end.

‘Fuck,’ he gasps, spurting his cum into your warm, slick, pussy. He holds you for a moment, wincing when he sees the thumbprints he’s left on your hips.

His softening cock slips out of you, and he taps your bare ass. ‘Show me,’ he says, spreading your legs so he can watch you push his cum out.

You oblige, and he licks a stripe up your pussy.

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I have somewhere to be.’

You’re dressed in seconds, making a little face as you feel Taehyung’s cum gush out of you.

‘I need to get cleaned up,’ you tell him.

‘No,’ Taehyung says. He stares at you impassively as you raise your brows at him.

‘You’re leaking out of me,’ you complain.

‘Let them know who you belong to,’ Taehyung tells you.

He tugs your arm and presses a kiss to your hair. ‘We really have to go.’

Taehyung doesn’t let go of your arm as he leads you back down the stairs and through the living room and out the back door of the house. You’re walking down the driveway with him when you see a familiar outline in the dark, and your startled eyes meet Jungkook’s for an instant before you’re too far away to even say ‘hello’.

***

You’re in the passenger seat of Taehyung’s car. He told you to wait whilst he went into the convenience store.

You hear the crash of breaking glass, then Taehyung comes running out of the store, with two other men.

He shouts something you can’t hear at them, then he’s back in his car, sliding into the driver’s seat.

He glances over at you. ‘Buckle up,’ he says.

He burns rubber as he peels out of the parking lot of the convenience store. In the distance you can hear police sirens.

‘Tae?’ you ask.

He ignores you, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

His hands are tight on the steering wheel, and you can see that his knuckles are split, bruised.

‘I need to concentrate,’ he tells you. He slows the car when you’re a few blocks away from the convenience store, and drives you to a part of the city you don’t know well.

He parks on a residential street, then turns to you.

‘What happened back there, Tae?’ you ask.

‘He owes my uncle some money,’ Taehyung tells you.

He leans over to you, lips seeking yours again.

‘God, I’m so hard,’ he tells you, shifting a little on his seat. ‘Can I get inside you again?’

‘There’s no room,’ you say. ‘Let me –‘

Taehyung’s already unzipping his jeans, lifting his cock out. He’s not lying, he’s so hard it looks painful.

‘I wanted to fuck my cum back into you,’ he groans, jerking his hips a little as you take him in your mouth.

You clench involuntarily at his words. ‘Tae,’ you breathe.

‘You like that? You want to be stuffed full of my cum, don’t you?’ Taehyung murmurs, reaching under your top to squeeze your tits.

You moan as he tangles his fingers in your hair. ‘You feel so good, baby,’ Taehyung says.

You flick your eyes up at him as he leans back in his seat. His cock is so hard that when he thrusts into your mouth you have a second where you can’t breathe, stuffed full of him.

‘Fuck,’ moans Tae. ‘Fuck.’

He spurts into your mouth, and you swallow him down, every drop.

The sun’s beginning to rise when he drops you off at home.

You wave him off, then head up your driveway.

You hear a window slide open, and Jungkook pops his head out.

He looks at you, at your mussed hair, at your ruined tights, and he sighs.

‘Come on,’ he says. You climb on top of the wooden bin storage cage and swing yourself up onto the roof of the garage, then walk carefully over to his window. He helps you into his room.

He passes you a sweatshirt and sweatpants, turning his back politely as you get changed.

You jump into his warm bed, and he glowers at you for a second before joining you.

‘Don’t get makeup on my pillow,’ he complains.

‘Please, you should just be grateful I’m willing to lie down in your cum-stained sheets,’ you retort.

Jungkook chuckles softly.

‘I’ve got morning wood you can help me with if you want,’ he says, gesturing to his sweats.

‘No thank you,’ you say, turning your back on him.

Jungkook shoves his hips against your ass, once, just to prove a point.

He feels good, but you’d never tell him that.

‘Thanks for waiting up for me,’ you tell him, closing your eyes.

Jungkook turns over, and you can feel his back pressed up against yours.

‘I saw you at that party,’ he tells you, yawning.

You stiffen a little.

‘Don’t get in over your head,’ Jungkook tells you.

You’re still thinking about what to say when you fall asleep.

***

You’re floating in the water when there’s a sudden commotion at the opposite end of the pool.

You jerk upright.

Taehyung’s pinning a man to the tiled pool edge. The man yells, the sound reverberating through the pool area.

You glance up to see the lifeguard walking off quietly into the adjoining office.

You watch as Jimin, one of Taehyung’s friends, who has always seemed gentle to you, plunges the man’s head into the pool.

You count off the seconds until he’s pulled up, gasping, panting.

Taehyung looks in your direction. It’s too far away to see his expression.

You tread water as the man is dunked in again, for longer this time.

He’s coughing and spluttering as he’s pulled up, and this time, before he’s pushed back in, he shouts.

You can’t hear what he’s saying, but whatever he says seems to mollify Taehyung.

He and Jimin drag the man out of the pool area. The lifeguard looks around warily, then comes back in.

You come out of the water and head for the showers.

When you come out of the main entrance, Taehyung is waiting for you.

He’s wet, his shirt is soaked.

‘Want to go for dumplings?’ he asks.

‘What did that man do?’ you ask.

Taehyung looks you right in the eye. ‘He tried to steal from my uncle.’

‘Ever heard of calling the police?’ you ask.

Taehyung just looks at you. ‘Are you coming, or not?’ he asks.

He takes off across the parking lot without waiting for you.

You head for the bus stop.

You’re sitting on the bench at the bus stop when Taehyung pulls up in front of you.

‘Come on,’ he says, exasperated. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I don’t want to go,’ you say. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Then we’ll go wherever you want,’ Taehyung says. He lowers his voice. ‘We can do whatever you want, just come with me.’

You can see the bus approaching, the irate horn when Taehyung refuses to move his car. He looks at you, lips curling in a smirk, challenging you.

You get in the car.

***

Taehyung lives in a house with Jimin, in a quiet, unassuming part of town. His living room is cosy, warm, but hooked up to a cinema-style sound system. Movie nights have become a regular thing for you.

He lays his head in your lap, snuggling under the pile of blankets. You stroke his wavy hair back from his face.

He stares at the screen, at the gangster movie you’re half-watching.

‘My uncle supported us after my dad left,’ he says. ‘He paid for everything. My mom was working three jobs, killing herself.’

He looks up at you. ‘I owe him.’

‘It’s dangerous, Tae,’ you tell him, quietly.

‘Longevity isn’t the only valuable thing about life,’ he replies. ‘Loyalty is important too. Family.’

He pulls you down to him, lips seeking yours.

‘Are you going to spend your whole life pandering to people who don’t matter?’ he asks you.

You snort. ‘I mean, I’m doing a hospitality diploma.’

Taehyung chuckles. ‘You’re always so eager to please.’

He tugs at the waistband of your sweats, loosening them so he can slip his hand in and touch you.

His finger slides through your slick folds, and you both moan as he slips into you.

He covers your body with his, pulling his own pants down just enough that he can enter you.

Like this, he’s a snug fit. Taehyung rocks a little, pressing on your clit. He snaps his hips against yours, and you marvel at how strong he is.

He suckles at your tits, warm hands cupping, squeezing. By now, you’ve fucked enough times that he knows exactly what you like.

Taehyung’s warm, deep voice murmurs praise in your ear as he fucks into you.

‘Good girl, that’s my good girl. God, you’re so warm, you smell so good.’

Your hands curl over his bare ass, and he chuckles. ‘I’m not leaving you, baby, you don’t have to hold me so tight.’

You want to remind him of all the bruises he’s left on your hips, but he picks up the pace, and all your thoughts evacuate your head.

Afterward, Taehyung holds you to him, face buried in your neck.

‘I’m not going to change, baby. If you stay with me, this is what our life will be like.’ He looks at you, face serious. ‘My family is the most important thing in the world to me.’

‘So if you want out then go, before I fall even more in love with you.’

Nineteen-year-old you loved the romance of his words. Hell, seven years later, cynical twenty-six-year-old you still feels fluttery when you remember it.

***

It’s another night out, another party thrown by Chang, who’s now graduated from just ogling your figure to also smirking at your face and making lewd comments.

Taehyung just laughs at him.

You’re pressed against Tae at a table in the VIP area of the club – the lighting’s got a purple hue to it and the bass makes the air throb around you.

You can barely see anything around you in the dark, and you hope that’s the case for everyone, because Taehyung’s got his hand up your short skirt and his fingers lodged in your cunt.

He’s thrown his jacket over your lap carelessly, and you’re trying your best not to move as he curls his fingers inside you.

‘Thirsty?’ Taehyung asks, voice faintly mocking as he passes you your glass of champagne.

Your hand shakes a little as you take a sip, and Taehyung’s thumb presses against your clit.

He leans close to nuzzle your neck.

‘I don’t think anyone can see how flushed you are, but I know. I know your nipples are hard for me. Why are you so tight, baby? How am I going to fit later?’

Your eyes meet his, and you know he can see the plea in them.

‘Want to cum for me, my love?’ he whispers, nibbling at your ear.

A new group of people have arrived at your table, and a jolt of electricity flares through you as your eyes meet Jungkook’s.

Taehyung swipes your clit again, and then you’re cumming, trying not to make a sound as Jeon Jungkook smirks knowingly at you.

©hamsterclaw 2022

[angsty-omi]

tooru oikawa x reader

“i hope that one day i’ll be able to replace you the way you replaced me.”

it’s hard y’know?

hearing his squeaked sneakers and the click of her heels walking down the hallway. hand in hand, confidently striding past you. her strong perfume left a mark after her presence. smelling like coconut... tooru hates coconut. you remembered the time where you tried to switch up your shampoo and tooru immediately noticed when walking into your bedroom. hated it. made you re-shower and scrub extra hard to get that scent away. then the realization hit you like a train. he just hated it on you, but could bare it with her. he liked her so much better, that he could bare the scent he detests.

last week was the last time you called tooru oikawa yours.

after losing to karasuno, the team was in shambles. tears left and right. you waited for tooru to step out of the locker room and prepared to give him affirmations and affections. although, when he walked out there were a bunch of girls already hoarding him. you could almost laugh at the sight. these girls don’t know tooru like you do. they don’t know how he feels, acts, and taste. but you do. thus, you never worried or felt insecure around these fangirls. so, you just waited for tooru to come up to you. you watched him meticulously, as he was taking very long with a certain fan. if you weren’t paying enough attention, you wouldn’t have seen the girl slip her number into his pocket. he didn’t even notice her action, since she used excuses of why she had to touch his jacket. after the whole ordeal, he finally got to you. with you, he could let his guard down. the facade of him being a nice guy to all his fans were taking a toll on him. as he grabbed your hand and found somewhere secluded, he cried in your arms. you held him tight around his neck and your back started to get wet. soothing his back and whispering “i know baby,” were things other girls couldn’t do.

although, after this, tooru changed. you couldn’t figure out why. he started to become obnoxious and rude to kids who weren’t necessarily popular. the final straw was when he was acting this way with you. his girlfriend. the same girl that watched him breakdown on her lap the whole night. the same girl that he wouldn’t let out of his bed to get dressed.

you waited outside the gates to walk with tooru. at the entrance, you saw him with the girl that gave him her number. although tooru was being civil, she kept clinging on to him. viewing this, you felt a slight bubble of jealousy in your stomach. as he walked over to you, the girl immediately walked the other way. he handed you his hand to hold, but you weren’t having it.

“tooru, i don’t like that girl. she makes me feel uncomfortable.” you sternly said while walking.

him beside you, “y/n you’re overreacting. she’s just a friend.” tooru sighed like you always did this.

“do friends cling on your arm? or pinch your cheeks? or giggle at every single thing you do?”

“she’s not like that, i promise.”

“mhm... okay.”

you hear him murmur something under his breath.

“what was that?” you put your hand to your ear, dramatically.

“i said, you should be lucky to even be with me”

“what?”

tooru then rolls his eyes at you.

“did you hear what i said idiot? i said you should be lucky to be with me”

“how am i lucky? you think it’s lucky to only see you on weekends because you’re so consumed with volleyball? huh? is that what you think? and on top of that, seeing the whole female population flirting with you every single game?”

“exactly so you see these girls and you think you’re special?”

at this point, you couldn’t believe your ears, “umm yeah because i’m your girlfriend? i would think so?”

“and you think i couldn’t replace yo-,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping that you didn’t just hear him.

oh but you did. loud and clearly. just then, you abruptly stop your walking. tears riling up your eyes.

“f-f-fine, if that’s what you think, then go ahead replace me. w-we’re done o-o-oikawa.” spewing his surname like he meant nothing to you. your back was facing him, but he knew. he knew you were crying. and yet, he didn’t seem to stop you nor apologize. in oikawa’s whole life, he never won at anything. he lost to a boy that was younger than him, more athletic, and overall a better setter. subconsciously, the only thing he could win was petty arguments like this one. but was it worth it? he’d soon find out weeks later.

in those days, you haven’t reached out to him, so he assumed you were over it and with his pride in the way, he didn’t want other students to know what really happened, so he decided to appear as the winner. the one who broke it off, the savant who moved past his ex and onto a new girl.

and that’s exactly why he did. though his outer appearance looked more happy, his insides were complete opposites. he hated the smell of coconut on her, or how compared to you, she was not funny. at all. she was bland and her humor was like speaking to a millennial on hump days. he couldn’t help but look over at you once in a while to see how you were dealing with the breakup. he couldn’t read you though, your face seemed drained out of pure tiredness, making you seem like an emotionless statue. during class, he noticed that your head hung low while tapping your pen against the table.

his new girl took notice of this, “tooru why do you keep looking at y/n?” she asked jealously.

as if he could not get anymore of a douche, his immediate reaction was, “y/n’s fucking pen tapping is so goddamn annoying, it’s fitting for her i mean look at her.”

you were sick of it. being walked on. being the butt of everyone’s joke. you were a ticking time bomb, and oh- you just exploded.

“well if i’m so goddamn annoying then maybe sob to your little whore the next time you lose a dumb shit of a game you call your livelihood, in which oh yeah! continues to remind you how you will always. be. just. second. best.”

the whole class erupted in laughter. your throat started to burn and his eyes widened in shock. you went too far and you knew it. you thought you would’ve felt good giving him a taste of his own medicine, but you felt guilt and pain. like his heart was yours, and you could feel it cracking.

“oikawa, y/n to the principal’s office now!” the teacher interjected.

as you both waited on the bench in front of the office, your principal decided not to call your parents, and let you both figure it out.

you spoke first, “listen.. for what it’s worth, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for saying all those rude things. i’m sorry for calling you second best. i’m sorry for belittling your passions. i’m sorry for not being a good girlfriend. i’m sorry for not being enough-” your voice started to get shake-y.

“god you just don’t shut up do you?” oikawa chuckled. you smiled a bit in return.

“y/n.. i don’t know where to start. no one has ever seen me so vulnerable, and you being there scared me. i didn’t deserve you, someone like kageyama did. you deserve a winner. i didn’t want to be someone you’d resent or find ‘too sensitive’ so i put myself first and for that i’m sorry. really sorry… and i miss you,” he hesitated for a second before continuing, “could you ever see us together again?”

you were speechless. so speechless you didn’t realize your hand meeting his face. your eyes widened in shock.

“i guess i deserved that.” he clenched his jaw.

“how dare you? how fucking dare you? sure i can forgive you, as a peer. but to start up what we have? what we had? you’re crazy. if you truly thought that i would what? think you’re ‘too sensitive’ then you don’t know me at all. safe to say if this how you react when shit hits the fan i don’t want to know what would’ve happened if we got married.”

his eyes lit up at the word ‘married’. what could’ve been if he’d just allow himself to be vulnerable and not have high standards for himself.

“i will always love you oikawa, but never in that way again. and for that, i’m sorry.” you got up, head held high with your back facing to him. specifically because tears were burning your cheeks. one more minute with him and you would’ve folded and taken him back.

[kashi-prompts]

Prompt: Above (but slightly altered)

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (POV alternates between them) 

Wordcount: 4,963

Rating: M 

Trigger Warning: Graphic depictions of domestic violence, implied/suggested rape, and violence

A/N: Ok, so I got carried away with this one. This prompt has been in my head for a long time, and I didn’t know where I wanted to go with it. But if you’re a little emo millennial like I am, you’ll remember the song “Face Down” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus that came out in like, 2010 or something. I listened to this song over and over again one day while I was driving and this idea came to my head. Please abide by the trigger warnings, as I feel this is pretty triggering. But I do hope those of you who enjoy the whole angsty vibe enjoy this. 

And [y/f’s/n] = Your friends name

Prompt below the cut: 

"Over here," the grip of his hand on your upper arm alerted you that you were moving through the crowd too quickly. He directed you back down the path he wanted to go. Hundreds of people lined the main street of Konoha in the culmination of the day's festival. You looked up, adjusting your kimono as you noted some teens arranging fireworks to be set off on the roof across from you. 

"This is a festival to celebrate love and relationships," you reminded your husband, frowning as he continued away from the festival's main road. You pushed a piece of hair away from your face, the hot air causing it to stick to your forehead with sweat. 

"What does it matter? We're already married, aren't we?" Aiko sighed, his irises pointing north in irritation. You noticed and agreed not to speak of it again. 

"Hey, Jiro!" Aiko's demeanor changed instantly at the sight of his friends huddled around a table, sake being poured generously all around. Slapping his hand between the man's shoulder blades, you watched your husband smile for the first time that day. 

Within moments, the lanterns in the streets were lit, and a glass of the fermented alcohol shoved haphazardly in your hand. The three men leaned against the table as you watched more people walk by, snippets of conversations passing you. You smiled dolefully as a young couple crossed the path before you, their enamored expressions radiating off their faces. 

You wearily twisted your wedding band with your thumb. 

Across the street, three men leisurely pitched themselves against the plank siding of Konoha's Dango shop. Despite the men lacking the commonly ordered shinobi uniform, one could still discern the nature of the three ninjas simply the way they displayed themselves. Although they were not on duty at the moment, their demeanor barely skimmed the surface of leisure. 

"Oiy," one burly gentleman sighed, exasperated by his friend's lack of interest, "Kakashi, won't you put that book down? Just enjoy the evening." 

The taller man shrugged, the tilt of his grey hair below the paper lantern above casting a shadow over his already partially covered face. He turned another page calmly, not looking up. 

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough for you both?" Kakashi responded, his thumb resting between the pages of his novel. A single dark eye glanced up at the two men. 

"Just listen to Guy," the brown-haired man exhaled, gesturing to the enthusiastic friend between them. "It would be nice to have you present once in and while. Maybe you can find a girlfriend here instead of always relying on that stupid book of yours for pleasure." 

Kakashi sighed heavily, scoffing at his friend and snapping the book shut in his palm, replacing it in the pocket of his kimono. Above them, the sudden popping sounds of fireworks shooting into the night sky filled the air. 

"I love the energy here," the man named Guy proclaimed suddenly, turning to look at the teenagers on the roof above them set up another round of colorful bursting rockets. The man clenched his fists in enthusiasm, smiling broadly. 

"I remember being that young," he said suddenly, "the rich life of youth!" 

Kakashi folded his arms across his chest and slumped deeper against the building. He had waited for this festival to end hours ago, imagining the familiarity of his warm bed at home and the burning desire for his mind to rest in the comfort of the book in his pocket. 

As the stream of citizens bustling down the dirt street finally divided, the silver-haired shinobi's eye settled on a woman across the street. Despite the clarity of her disquieted gaze, her appearance caught the shinobi's attention as his eye swiveled back to her. 

For a moment, something within his mind was set ablaze. The silver-haired man tilted his chin, studying the woman as she nursed a small glass of the clear liquid in her hand. Her slender fingers tapped against the drink while her thumb nervously twisted at the silver band on her ring finger. 

Behind his mask, he frowned slightly. She was taken, obviously. How could she not be? There was a grace to her that would be swept up by any man lucky enough to get close to her. Despite the obvious conclusion that he had made about her status, his eyes couldn't seem to leave her. The uneasy expression on her delicate features tugged at something within him. 

"I'm going to go get us a drink," Tenzo clapped a hand to his thigh, leaning forward from the wall. "Sound good?"

Kakashi nodded, looking away from the woman as another pack of eager teenagers wandered between her and the men. Instead, he watched Yamato push his way to the bar across the street where she stood, offering three fingers to the bartender in request. 

As Yamato waited, Kakashi observed the man at the table in front of the bar. A boisterous laugh echoed from the man's husky chest, slamming down an empty glass that once held a generous amount of sake. 

"If I really wanted to, I could take on any of these shinobi," Kakashi heard the man say to his friend. "I don't need to know any of that ju-ju shit." 

Beside him, Guy was oblivious to the entertainment unfolding before them. Kakashi managed to stifle a chuckle, looking away as the man began to roll up his sleeve to show off his beefy arm muscles. His single eye swiveled back to the woman, clearly embarrassed by the man's humiliating masquerade of virility beside her. 

The connection was suddenly made clear to Kakashi. 

"Hey, you!" the man yelled over the table, pointing to Yamato as he used an extra wooden hand to carry the three glasses back to his friends. 

"You're a shinobi, aren't you?" 

"Yes," Kakashi heard Yamato say, clearly unaware of the man's prior antics moments before, "Why?" 

"C'mere for a second," the man chuckled, waving the shinobi over. The burly man's friends snickered around the table, turning around to observe Kakashi's friend. Kakashi stood straighter. Beside him, Guy did the same, also suddenly aware of the strange situation displaying before them. 

A fist flew through the air without warning, and the sound of shattering glass filled the bar. Three glasses of sake spilled around their feet as Yamato's hand gripped the man's fist in front of his face agilely. 

"Aiko, stop!" The woman Kakashi had noted minutes before cursed at her husband, her eyes wild with embarrassment and anger. "What is wrong with you?" 

Yamato pushed back with one hand as Kakashi and Guy carefully made their way across the street to assist if needed. The man stumbled back, shaking his head in disgust. 

"You men are useless," he spat at Yamato. Kakashi and Guy stood at Yamato's shoulder. "All you stupid fucks do is go out and use your little magic to bring war to our village. Just because people aren't inherently born with your stupid-"

"That's enough," Kakashi commanded suddenly, taking a step forward. His other lid slid open, the twirl of three tomoe in his glowing eye a jarring sight to the group of men. Aiko scoffed, brushing off the scarecrow's display of authority before sitting back down. 

Kakashi turned, impervious to the man's words. As Guy opened his mouth beside him, Yamato quickly directed him away. 

Making his way back through the crowd, Kakashi glanced over at the woman beside him, her expression a blend of humiliation and gratitude. 

Clutching your drink, you stared at the silver-haired shinobi in front of you as he passed. The glow of his red eye eerie as he slowly closed his lid again. Did he know? 

****** 

2 Months Later

The humidity in the air was stifling. The typical steady flow of children darting about in the streets seemed to have been reduced to merely a trickle of one or two Genin desperately trying to cool themselves with the gardening hose outside the Yamanaka Flower Shop. 

The wait between missions was always a relatively appeasing time for the jounin leader. Although today, as he patrolled the streets with a book in his hand, he longed for a mission to a place with a cooler temperature than the sweltering climate he walked the streets in now. Drips of sweat cascaded down his spine, dampening his undershirt all the way to his vest. 

"Oh!" was all Kakashi heard as he felt the weight of someone walk into him. The pages of his book flew through the air, minging with a bag of groceries that fell to the ground.  

"I'm sorry!" he heard as he quickly assessed the situation. A messy lump of [y/h/c] knelt before him, picking up the groceries that had been scattered about the street. 

"No need to be sorry," he told the woman quickly, kneeling beside her. 

"I should have been looking where I was going," clearly flustered by the situation, she continued to grab her groceries and place them back in the bag. 

"It's okay," he chuckled, glancing up at her. His chest tightened for a moment as he viewed the woman he had seen in the bar a few months prior. Her beauty remained, but the apparent cast of malaise had overtaken her. He blinked, taken aback by the situation that had suddenly unfolded before him. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, lifting an arm to her shoulder, "did you hurt yourself?"

She evaded his touch, pulling away with her bag of groceries. He withdrew his gesture as she stood, clutching the bag to her chest. Looking down, he observed the wedding band still on her thinning finger. She looked ill, he thought. Or, at the very least, quite exhausted. Beneath his mask, his lips curved into a frown. 

"I'm fine. I must be going," she told him quickly, brushing by him. It was now evident to the jounin how this large bag of groceries had obscured this woman's view enough to run into him in the first place. 

"Let me at least help you carry your bag," Kakashi offered, taking a step towards her. 

"No!" she told him quickly, pulling the paper bag away from his grasp. "I'm fine, thank you." 

As she turned the arm grasping the bag away from him, his single eye glanced down at a deep-set bruise on her upper arm. The clear markings of four fingers having once gripped the skin caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He opened his mouth, attempting to frame a sentence of carefully composed words to her, but only a pause came from his lips. 

Without another word, the woman turned from him and quickly began heading over the bridge to the other side of town. Her gait struck him as rather peculiar, almost as though she were trying to make up the time she had lost moments before. Looking down, he grabbed his book from the dusty street and shoved it in his pocket, uneasy from the interaction. 

**** 

3 Months Later

Fall had arrived before you had even noticed the conclusion of the warmer days of the year. The lustrous canopies of trees that cocooned the village had shifted to autumn's mute yet vibrate colors. The crisp air of the night nipped at your cheeks as you walked at the ankles of your husband, keen to keep a distance yet knowledgeable enough not to fall behind. 

Another festival had arrived, this one focused on family. The two of you were supposed to be a family, having been married over two years ago. Yet you didn't feel like that was the case. It was almost as though the moment you had said "I do" to Aiko, he had changed. He had wanted a maid, a mother, and a ragdoll in one package. 

As the evening had progressed, you were sure he had learned his lesson from the previous spring festival. But once the arrival of his friends had commenced, you knew it would be similar. The gnawing, raw feeling in your stomach caused acid to flow freely into your mouth. 

You remembered the last festival, the one where he had made a fool of himself in front of those shinobi men. He had scolded and ridiculed you for not supporting him at that moment. It was considerably evident that your husband was no match for a trained ninja of the Leaf. Yet, his disgust for the protectors of the village only grew more. You suspected it was rooted in jealousy. 

Not realizing the extent of his burned complex that night, you had continued to go about the evening, unaware of what was to come. Once you had arrived home, it had been the first time the verbal abuse had turned physical. The memory of his grip flush against the curve of your neck, pinning you to the wall as he spat in your face, was as clear as it had been the night it happened. You could still hear his words, appalled that his wife had not supported him- maybe then he would have won. You could still feel the glass that had shattered and plunged into your skin as he threw you into the coffee table. 

You took in a shaky breath, trying to calm your anxiety that rose within you. You prayed it wouldn't be that kind of night. You prayed it wouldn't be the type of evening where you were both his physical punching bag and his sex ragdoll. The apologies he whispered to you after as he held you down to "make love" to you caused your skin to crawl. 

The abuse was blatant; there was no denying it. You couldn't say to yourself, "he loves me," because he did not. Yet, you couldn't find the strength or the dignity to leave. The more his words stung, the more you felt you deserved them. 

As you traveled through the street, you looked around, watching families partake in the street vendor sweets and games provided to them. Your hand went to your stomach, the emptiness within it a sad reminder that you were still not a mother. 

"What are you doing?" Aiko asked abruptly, his voice dripping with contempt and impatience. You turned your head, hurrying back over to him as you hadn't even realized you stopped walking. 

"Sorry," you mumbled. 

Later in the evening, the wind had picked up, and the festival lanterns waved in the breeze. Once again, the sake was flowing freely. It was setting up to be just as it had been that night in the spring. Your skin itched with anxiety. The wedding band on your finger was looser than before, falling to your knuckle as you sipped your drink nervously. 

"I bet you could take him out," you heard Aiko's friend say to him. Your eyes widened, and you looked to the sky, a silent prayer for peace falling from your lips. The obsession with shinobi had only grown worse since the incident. As unbenounced ninja passed them on the street, spit would fly from your husband's mouth to their sandaled feet. Mortified, you would always look away. 

But tonight, as you looked over at your husband in the bar, you realized the three men from that evening were behind him. The realization of what your husband and his friends were discussing hit you, and you quickly sucked down your alcohol to ease your distress. 

That shinobi that had helped you in the street that one day was there as well—the same one with the dancing red eye that had looked at you at the spring festival. 

Was he looking at you? You wondered, catching the gaze of his dark eye from across the room. You looked down at your empty drink, feeling a blush creep up your neck that didn't seem like it was from the sake. 

He was handsome, you thought to yourself. You remembered the day you had bumped into him in the street, the way he had chucked at the way you apologized so profusely. When he had walked by you with that eye that night in the spring, it had felt like a real shock of electricity ran through your body. 

A clamor of chairs brought you out of your daydream as you quickly looked up, startled by the sudden noise. 

"Aiko!" you yelled, seeing your husband up against a wall with the forearm under his neck that belonged to the same shinobi he had tried to fight in the spring. This couldn't be happening, you thought. 

The shinobi with a terribly styled bowl cut pulled your husband off of the young man, restraining him. 

"What is your problem?" the brown-haired man shouted to Aiko, pushing him as the other held him in a headlock. 

"Guy, Tenzo!" the silver-haired man stood between them, pulling the men apart. 

A glob of spit flew through the air, hitting the man named Tenzo in the cheek. He gritted his teeth, angered as your husband looked at him in satisfaction. 

"Fuck you," Aiko said, "and fuck your stupid job." 

"Tenzo!" Kakashi forcefully shoved his comrade back as he lunged towards the man. "Enough! Guy, let's go!" 

Embarrassment flooded you like no other. The overwhelming realization of what had just unfolded before you caused acid to erupt in your stomach. You put your glass down, running out of the bar and into the street. You didn't care if your husband couldn't find you - you didn't care about it at all. You were mortified, mortified to be around him, associated with him, to be married to him. 

You pushed through the crowd, finding a dark alleyway at the end of the street where you could find solitude and rest for a moment. Tears streamed from your face as you slid your back down the side of a building. You held your face in your hands, unable to control the sob that erupted from your chest. You stayed there, clutching your knees to your chest as time ticked by. 

You were angry with yourself. You were disgusted for having been stupid enough to get yourself in a situation with such a dreadful and disorderly man. This was your fault, you thought. Your responsibility for not seeing the signs, for not realizing who he was - 

"Get up," you heard, interrupting your thoughts. Your body froze, unable to register the gravity of what was about to happen. You looked up, seeing the outline of your husband against the backlight of the street behind him. 

"Please, Aiko, I'm just-" 

"Get up!" 

You stood to your feet, your knees shaking uncontrollably beneath you. There was nothing you could do now. You had to deal with whatever was going to be delt to you. The rational side of your brain knew it wasn't your fault he had made a fool of himself, yet his tainted reputation and burned-out dignity only enraged him more- and somehow, you felt responsible. You were his punching bag - his relief. 

"Why did you leave?" he demanded, taking a step forward. 

"I was feeling ill," you told him, standing your ground as you lifted your chin. 

"You think you can leave?" he asked, his hot breath on your face. The stale smell of alcohol on his breath tickled your nose, causing nausea to churn in your stomach more. 

"You think you're better than me? Do you think this is all a game? That these men are better than me?"

"I never-" the sudden grip of his hand on your jaw caught your tongue between your teeth, the taste of metal in your mouth quickly spreading. 

"You disgust me," he seethed, the sweaty skin of his nose touching yours. Without hesitation, he threw your body to the side of the alley, slamming your head between the trashcans. 

"Go ahead, get up," he urged you mockingly as his foot slammed into your stomach. 

"Get up!" he yelled, watching you curl your body in pain on the concrete.

Aiko curled his hand into a fist, raising it above him as he leaned down. You braced your body for impact, knowing full well what was about to happen. Anger at yourself overwhelmed you. 

The sound of trashcans being pushed to the side abruptly filled the air of the small alleyway. You felt one hit the top of your head, and you moved quickly, sitting up with wide eyes. Your husband's arm was twisted behind him, and his face pushed into the brick building behind you. Blood seeped from a cut on his forehead. 

"You can't hit a real man, so you think you can hit a woman? You feel like a man now? Huh?" 

The comprehension of what was happening hit you as you scrambled back from the scene. The silver-haired ninja with the red eye slammed your husband harder against the wall, using the firm grip on Aiko's wrist to move him as though he weighed nothing. 

"Get off of me!" Aiko cried furiously, forcefully trying to free himself from the man's grip. You looked down, seeing the shinobi's forearm flex as he gripped your husband's wrist tighter. 

"Break your arm," the shinobi urged mockingly, "that's the only way you'll get out of this." 

Your husband thrust himself backward, wildly trying to free himself. Your eyes widened as you watched in one swift motion the shinobi pull Aiko to the ground, a fist landing firmly on his jawline. You closed your eyes, hearing the sounds of knuckles to flesh penetrate your mind. A mixture of anxiety and relief overwhelmed your senses. 

When the noises had settled, you looked up, watching the shinobi's chest heave in and out as he caught his breath—blood coating his knuckles. Your hand went to your mouth, shaking. He turned to look at you, his red eye open and glowing in the darkness. You scrambled to your feet. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, his expression turning from blind rage to concern. "Are you okay? You're bleeding." 

You reached up, touching the trickle of blood that streamed down from your hairline as the adrenaline from the situation began to die in your system. You felt dizzy, whether from the situation or the injury, you weren't sure. But when you looked back up, the man's spinning red eye was closed again, and he stared at you with worry. 

You looked to your beaten husband, his face puffy and red as he slumped against the wall, unconscious. 

"Is-Is-" you tried, words failing you as your body shook uncontrollably. 

"He's not dead," the shinobi told you quickly, "just unconscious. I just - I saw what he did to you and - he's the lowest scum on this earth."

His words fell silent as his chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. The adrenaline and anxiety that had been building up in you peaked as your knees gave way below you. Your body fell to the ground as you let out a loud sob, one that had been accumulating within you for months. The overwhelming, unrelenting sense of fear that consumed you day in and day out had diminished, if only for a moment, right now. 

"Hey," he called quickly, kneeling before you. His voice was calm. You felt his hand on your shoulder, gentle and assuring as you cried. "Hey, it's okay." 

"This is my life," you felt the words tumble from your mouth, "this is how I live, day in and day out. These bruises are normal; this fear is normal." 

His silver eyebrows turned up in grief as waves of emotions overtook your body. After a moment, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. This stranger, having saved you and comforted you in a dark alley in the middle of a festival. This stranger, who knew nothing of you, yet held you close to his beating chest as you clutched his kimono. You felt his hand on the back of your head, his skin sticky with your husband's blood. 

"It's okay," you heard him say to you, his chin atop of your head, "It's okay. I'm not going to let him hurt you again. I promise." 

***** 

Spring had come again. The blossoming sakura leaves a staple as the annual festival celebrating love commenced in the streets once again. You walked by yourself through the crowd, the newfound strange sense of independence feeling like a breath of fresh air to your lungs. You looked around, observing the same throng of teenagers pass by, another year older. 

You stopped, letting the dog at your side sniff a street pole. You smiled, leaning down to pet your brute of a hound. He looked up at you, wagging his tail at the affection you provided. 

"Good boy, Megumi," you smiled, flipping his ears warmly. Megumi had been given to you by that ninja named Kakashi after you had returned from the hospital for the severe concussion you had received that night. You were unsure where he had gotten the pup from, but the dogs small, doting eyes staring back at you won you over instantly. 

"He'll serve as a good sense of protection," Kakashi had told you, "and if you need any help training him, I'd be happy to help." 

That had been the last time you had seen the man who had saved you. Although often, you were sure you had seen him pass by you in the streets, only to realize it was someone else. You wondered how he was doing. 

Your husband had been promptly thrown into prison, collected on domestic abuse charges that were not tolerated within the village whatsoever. You slipped your bare ring finger through one of the loops of Megumi's chain. The divorce had been finalized last month. 

"[y/n]," someone had called. You turned, seeing your friend, [y/f's/n] wave happily to you. You smiled as she handed you a cup of warmly brewed tea. 

"How are you?" She asked brightly, "it's so nice to see you out. And how is little Megumi?" 

She bent down to pet the dog's ample head—another tail wag. 

"I'm good," you smiled. Your smile was genuine, your heart light. "Thank you. How are you?"

"Happy to see my friend!" the woman smiled, hugging your shoulders from the side. You beamed, laughing with your friend for what felt like the first time in years. Just as you turned your head, tittering off a laugh, your eye caught sight of a turf of silver hair in the sunlight. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you blinked.

"What is it?" your friend asked, her face falling. 

"Nothing, it's just -" you tried but couldn't form the words. It had been seven months since you had seen Kakashi. The angle of the lantern's light catching his sharp features as he conversed with his two friends. Beside you, your friend traced your gaze to the man a few meters away. 

"Is that-?" she trailed off, watching your face flush as your fingers tapped nervously against the cup of tea in your hand. 

"You're blushing!" she pointed out, a playful finger pointed at your nose. 

"I'm not," you waved a hand, "I'm just surprised to see him." 

"Why don't you go talk to him?"

"Oh no, I couldn't," you shook your head, fidgeting with Megumi's leash. 

"But he saved you! You should at least see how he's doing." 

"He was just doing his job, [y/f's/n]," you sighed, rolling your eyes at your friend. 

"No, it doesn't matter. You should go talk to him," she urged, pushing you towards him. 

"[Y/f's/n]!" she pushed you through the crowd, children dispersing as your dog sniffed his way over to Kakashi's leg. 

"Hey!" Kakashi chucked to the dog, a smile forming under his mask. His eyes traveled up the dog's chain to you as your friend's hands left your shoulders, disappearing into the crowd. 

"[y/n]," Kakashi smiled in surprise, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you. "I didn't-"

"How are you?" you asked suddenly, feeling your face flush. Kakashi blinked his single eye, tracing your face with his gaze as if to memorize it. You were sure you looked healthier than the last time he had seen you. 

"I'm good," he said finally, not realizing his friends disappearing behind him with snickering looks over their shoulder. "How are you?"

"Better," you smiled softly, holding Megumi's leash tightly as the dog sniffed at his feet. Kakashi leaned down to pet the dog, smiling as he patted the side of his chest. 

"And I see Megumi is doing good too," he cooed at the hound. 

"He is," you nodded, "thank you again." 

"Not a problem," he leaned back up, catching your eye again. You looked away, your chest flushing. A few awkward beats passed between you as you watched a couple pass by, their hands intertwined as they strolled down the street.

"Would you- like to grab something to eat?" You heard him ask, his voice dripping with nervousness. 

You turned back suddenly, your eyes snapping back to his. He smiled softly, lifting his eyebrows. 

"They have some good food stands here this time of year," he commented, "but if you'd rather not or if you're with your frien-"

"Of course," you said quickly, "I would love to." 

His eyes perked up at your acceptance, turning into two small crescent moons. He turned, waiting for you to follow. Your instinct told you to stay a foot behind him, but when he waited for you to step beside you, you realized he wanted you next to him. 

"So, are you wishing for anything?" he trailed off as the two of you began walking, a smile on your face. 

[writer-ish]

The 3rd Annual Bloom Edenbrook Fundraising Gala

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Dr. Brooke Spiers) Word Count: 2.9k Rating: Mostly T (innuendo, language, smooches)

Premise: Dr. Brooke Spiers and Dr. Ethan Ramsey get coerced into answering anonymous questions submitted by generous donors at this year's hospital fundraising gala. They have about as much fun with it as you'd expect.

This idea is all thanks to THIS ASK from the lovely @lem-20. The concept and all questions are hers! Thank you, darling Leah! ♥️

Author’s Note: My first time with a mixed-media type post(!!!) and the writing part has been done almost script-style, similar to the "Not Yet Wed" questions courtesy of @jamespotterthefirst, which you can find HERE. Hope you all enjoy. 🥰

Tickets

Bonus Raffle

SETTING - Diagnostics Office - 5:15 PM

TWO DOCTORS in formal attire sit across from one another. The male, DR. ETHAN RAMSEY, late-30s, devastatingly handsome, leans against a desk, arms crossed. The female, DR. BROOKE SPIERS, late-20s, charmingly attractive, sits on a larger table further away, legs swinging.

Ethan: I can't believe you talked me into this.

Brooke: [smirking] Why does this feel like deja vu?

Ethan: You know exactly why. You coerced me into the same sort of nonsense in your intern year for that magazine—whatever it was.

Brooke: Yeah, and remember how much publicity the hospital got that year? You're welcome.

Ethan: How can you be sure our "publicity" had to do with that article and not the fact that a first-year intern stole from a large pharamceutical company to administer an unapproved drug to—

Brooke: [hands up] Okay, okay, we get it. Regardless, you have to admit I was responsible for all the publicity. [grins]

Ethan: [can't help but grin back] Touche. [sighs deeply] Let's go home.

Brooke: Can't, babe. We're the main event.

Ethan: How did this even come about? Is there not some code of ethics against this sort of thing?

Brooke: [laughs] It's just staff and donors. All adults. We're showing that we're good sports and it's for a good cause.

Ethan: [grumbles] I don't know why people care so much about us.

Brooke: You don't? I mean, have you seen us?

Ethan: [dryly] And so humble, too.

Brooke: Lord knows you aren't with me for my humility.

Ethan: Indeed. [picks up a glass from the desk at his side, swirling the amber liquid] Well, I hope you're prepared.

Brooke: [amused] Prepared?

Ethan: You're used to me being reticent in situations like this and holding back? [downs the liquid in one shot] Not today.

Brooke: [wary] What does that mean?

DR. RAMSEY stands up, crossing the room towards DR. SPIERS until the latter is forced to open her legs to accommodate his presence. He braces a hand on either side of her, leaning forward until their lips are almost touching. Her face flushes. He notices, and a slow, lazy smile spreads.

Ethan: It means [kisses her slightly open mouth softly] I'm answering all their questions.

Brooke: [giggles nervously] All of them? But what if—

Ethan: [punctuating each word with a kiss] All. Of. Them.

He leans forward and captures her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. Her arms twine around his neck and she lets out a soft moan. Drawing her ankles around his legs she pulls him even closer and he places one hand on the desk as the other glides up her back. They stay like that, interlocked for a moment, before he pulls away.

Brooke: [eyes still closed] Hmph.

Ethan: Let's go get this over with.

Brooke: [slowly opens eyes and peers at him, disgruntled] What kinds of questions do you think people are submitting?

Ethan: Like you said, Dr. Spiers... [a slow smile spreads] Have you seen us?

DR. SPIERS laughs as she follows DR. RAMSEY out.

A.N. PLEASE do not look too closely at this very badly photoshopped pic 😂

SETTING - Bloom Edenbrook Hospital, Main Atrium - 6:25 PM

Our two doctors sit beside each other on a makeshift stage. A semi-recognizable third-year resident is the host for the evening. DR. RAMSEY dusts an imaginary piece of lint off his sleeve. DR. SPIERS has her hands in lap, knee shaking slightly. Noticing, Dr. Ramsey reaches over and rests his hand on her leg. She looks over with a small smile and places her hand over his.

Thank you to our very own Chief of Medicine, Dr. Ethan Ramsey, and his partner, head of the Diagnostics Team, Dr. Brooke Spiers, for being here with us today for a good cause. Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Spiers, are you prepared to answer some questions provided by our generous, anonymous donors?

Brooke: Sure, why not.

Ethan: [through gritted teeth] For a good cause.

Alright, excellent. I will be drawing these questions at random. Thank you to all who donated for the opportunity to submit a question.

Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Spiers, you will both be posed a question. If you choose to answer, you must both answer. If you choose not to, you must match the donation made by the donor, in lieu of a verbal response. Are you ready to begin?

Ethan: Mmm.

Brooke: [nervous laugh] I suppose.

Alright, here we go!

First question: If he/she could take one thing to a desert island what would it be?

Brooke: Me.

[Audience whoops and laughs]

Ethan: [can't hide his smirk, before clearing his throat] Brooke would take her phone. Heaven forbid she can't post about something on Pictagram.

Brooke: It's true. I'm sorry for being such a young millennial needy for external validation.

What are your nicknames for each other?

Brooke and Ethan: [look at each other. Brooke laughs.]

Ethan: Just say it.

Brooke: I mean, it's nothing too embarassing. I call him babe usually, or baby sometimes if I'm feeling extra nice. He calls me—[blushes and looks over at Ethan]

Ethan: [sighs] 'My love'. I call her 'my love'.

[Audience "awwww"s]

Who’s the better cook?

Brooke: Oh, Ethan. A hundred percent.

Ethan: It's true.

Brooke: I'm abysmal.

Ethan: Normally I would demur when it comes to Dr. Spiers' perceived faults, but in this case she's correct.

Brooke: Thanks, babe.

Ethan: You have many wonderful qualities that don't involve ovens, my love.

[A squeal from the audience that sounds suspiciously like Sienna]

Who has the last word in an argument?

[simultaneously] Brooke: Ethan Ethan: Brooke

[They look at each other]

Brooke: [laughs incredulously] Seriously?

Ethan: You think I don't hear you muttering to yourself after you walk away, almost every single time?

Brooke: Oh, so cursing your name and your very existence counts as the last word and not you shouting [affects deep voice] "And that's final!"? Duly noted.

Ethan: I don't sound like that or say that.

Brooke: Mm, sure.

Who is best at keeping secrets?

Brooke: Uh, neither of us?

Ethan: I had a secret once and it was hell keeping it.

Brooke: You've had a couple.

Ethan: True. I'm done with secrets.

Brooke: In lighter news, we kept [gestures between the two of them] this thing a secret for a bit. No?

Ethan: [opens his mouth to agree, when he's interrupted by a shout from the audience—]

Audience member that sounds suspiciously like Elijah: Nope! We all knew!

[Audience loudly murmurs in agreement]

Brooke: Never mind, then.

Who wears the trousers in the relationship?

Ethan: Neither of us subscribes to antiquated beliefs of superiority in a relationship. We're partners and teammates and work together accordingly. Sometimes she helps and guides me and sometimes I do the same for her. There is no one person who holds higher ground over the other and to imply otherwise would be foolish.

Brooke: [literal heart eyes at Ethan] What he said. [stage whisper] Except it's me.

[Audience laughs as Ethan rolls his eyes]

What is his/her worst habit?

Brooke: Workaholic, poor communication skills, yells first and asks questions later… I could go on.

Ethan: Charming. I have two words for you: messy packrat.

Brooke: Excuse me?

Ethan: If I had a nickel for every useless piece of garbage you kept "just in case" or for each article of clothing on the floor of my bedr—[clears throat] Just trust me.

Brooke: [smirks and whispers against Ethan's ear so only he can hear] Sorry, who is responsible for my clothes on the floor…?

Ethan: [says nothing but smirks as well]

[Audience murmurs in scandal]

What three words would you use to describe them?

Brooke: Hmm. Let me think.

Ethan: Passionate, caring, intelligent.

Brooke: [looks at him fondly] You came up with those fast.

Ethan: [matter-of-factly] I could give them ten more easily.

[Audience "awww"s]

Brooke: [to the audience] No, no, no don't be fooled, he doesn't mean only the flattering words, trust me.

Ethan: I believe it's your turn.

Brooke: Dedicated, compassionate, brilliant.

Ethan: [smiles softly at Brooke, who avoids his gaze. He reaches over and squeezes her hand.]

Brooke: [mutters] Yeah, yeah.

What celebrity do you/they think they most look like?

[Both Ethan and Brooke look at the announcer quizzically.]

Brooke: Celebrity? Uhh…

Ethan: I don't even know how I would begin to answer this question.

Brooke: Ryan Reynolds?

[Audience laughs and loudly disagrees]

Ethan: Who?

Brooke: [laughs and shakes her head] I don't know! I just named a random hot guy. You name a redhead actress. Jessica Chastain?

Ethan: [confused] Do you mean Jessica Rabbit?

Brooke: No I don't mean— [looks at him incredulously] Are you saying you think I look like Jessica Rabbit?

Ethan: No, I thought that's what you were saying and I was about to tell you how incorrect you were. Er, that is to say—

Brooke: I feel like you're digging yourself into a hole here.

Ethan: Agreed.

Who is the most vain?

Ethan: Both of us have more pressing concerns than our physical appearance.

Brooke: Ethan.

Ethan: [splutters]

Brooke: If you're going based off who spends more time on their hair in the bathroom? Ethan.

Ethan: [crosses his arms and glowers, but doesn't disagree]

What is his/her guilty pleasure?

Brooke: Ethan's is cooking shows, particularly Nigella.

Ethan: It's true. Brooke's is high calorie indulgences like—what's the freezer cake you made me buy the other day? With no identifiable or even passably edible ingredients?

Brooke: Ooh, Deep 'n Delicious. So good.

Ethan: [rolls eyes] Yes, because we all need our daily dose of hydrogenated oils and preservatives.

If they had a free pass, which celebrity would they choose to sleep with?

[Look at each other blankly]

Brooke: Uhh… Nigella?

Ethan: This Ryan Reynolds fellow?

Brooke: [laughs] I don't even like him!

Ethan: So who, then?

Brooke: [crosses her arms] I notice you didn't deny Nigella.

Ethan: This question is stupid. Next question.

Where and when did you go on your first date?

Brooke: Derry Roasters

Ethan: What? No. I took you to Sorellina—

Brooke: What, three years after we first met? No. Our first date was Derry Roasters when you caught me following you that time.

Ethan: Ah, so she finally admits it. I thought at the time I was… what was it, "paranoid"?

Brooke: [laughs only a touch guiltily] Did I say that?

Ethan: So you're treating the first time you trailed after me to the local coffee shop as our first date?

Brooke: Well, you paid.

Ethan: Yeah, after you "forgot" your wallet.

Brooke: What, you thought I pursued you for your good looks? No, sir. I like a man with deep pockets. Plus, you know how I know it was a first date?

Ethan: Please, enlighten me.

Brooke: You ordered for me and I didn't get annoyed and it was horrible, but I still drank the whole thing.

Ethan: The espresso Romano is not horr—

Brooke: Horrible. Coffee and lemon? [shudders] That's how I knew I was into you.

Ethan: [intrigued] Really? Way back then?

Brooke: [nods, blushing slightly, and rolls her eyes] Oh brother, don't act so shocked. You knew.

[Audience laughs and whoops]

Ethan: [shell-shocked face showing he absolutely did not know]

Where was your first kiss?

Brooke: [sheepishly] Miami.

[Audience murmurs in surprise]

Ethan: [sighs] Yes.

Brooke: Is that—are Harper and Naveen exchanging money?

Naveen: [from the audience] Dr. Emery should know better than to question my instincts!

Ethan: [loudly groans] Next question.

Who is the loudest in bed?

Brooke: [yelps and, remembering Ethan's earlier warning, throws her hand over his mouth]

Ethan: [from behind her hand] You probably could have made the answer less obvious.

Brooke: [blushes and groans]

[Audience roars its approval]

Which of your friends do you think he/she is most likely to have a crush on?

Brooke: Ohhh, this is awkward.

Ethan: My friends?

Brooke: Considering we can list your friends on one hand…and some of them intersect with mine. [bites lip] What do we do with this one?

Ethan: [to the host] What did the donor pay?

Sorry?

Ethan: To submit this question. How much?

Oh, uhh—[checks] $200.

Ethan: I'll write you a cheque for $200. Next question.

Brooke: [shakes her head laughing] All the questions, huh?

Ethan: At my discretion, yes.

Bryce: [from the audience] You know the answer was me for both of you, anyway!

Ethan: [scoffs] Fat chance, Lahela.

Brooke: [pointedly silent, staring straight ahead]

Ohh-kay. Next question. Who had feelings first?

Brooke: Ha, me. For sure.

Ethan: Are you sure?

Brooke: [looks at him incredulously] I just told you I liked you even after you bought me lemon coffee at Derry Roasters three years ago. [sits up to look at him more fully] No chance you liked me earlier than that. I mean, like-liked me.

Ethan: "Like-liked you"? Are we twelve?

Brooke: You know what I mean. You were such a grouch and I was just your annoying intern.

Ethan: [irritatedly] The annoying intern I kissed in Miami, what, a week later? Is that how obvious my lack of feelings for you were?

Brooke: [opens her mouth to respond and then closes it again]

Ethan: That's what I thought.

Who’s more dramatic?

Brooke: Ethan.

Ethan: I am absolutely not—

Brooke: See? Honestly, he's exhausting.

Ethan: [glowers]

Who has the weirdest orgasm face?

Brooke: Weirdest?

Ethan: Oh for the love of—

$5000 to not answer this one, doctors.

Brooke and Ethan: [jaws drop simultaneously]

Brooke: Someone paid five-thousand dollars—

Ethan: What kind of a pervert—? Fine, say it's me.

Brooke: It's really not.

Ethan: [quietly] Well, it's certainly not you.

Brooke: Yeah, but—

I believe we have our answer!

Ethan: We'll take it. Next!

What are you most likely to argue about?

Ethan: Brooke believes I could be more communicative about my feelings, especially when I have a problem.

Brooke: You do listen!

Ethan: Of course. We also argue about when she's going to move in with me.

[Audience gasps and murmurs in gleeful scandal]

Brooke: [jaw drops] Ethan!

Ethan: It's true. [turns to host] I believe it should have already happened. She believes she needs to maintain a tenuous hold on a bedroom she rarely occupies for a group of roommates who would be happy for her to move on.

Brooke: [fuming] Of all the high-handed—

Jackie, from the audience: He's right, girl, bigger and better awaits.

Brooke: [through gritted teeth, as Sienna, Ethan, and Aurora all nod and give her thumbs up] Maybe this is something we can talk about later—

Ethan: Whatever you say, my love.

Brooke: Oh, yeah, now with the "my love"s—

On that note! Here is our final question.

What’s the most romantic thing they’ve done for you?

Ethan: [looks at Brooke, who is still glowering] Most romantic?

Brooke: [glares]

Ethan: With Brooke, it's the little things. She'll notice when I'm having a bad day and bring me my favourite donut. Or a well-timed hand on my shoulder or knee when she can see I'm getting riled up.

Brooke: [glare softens a bit]

Ethan: She's thoughtful and kind and extremely empathetic. She knows what I need even before I know that I need it. It's not—candlelit dinners or what have you, but I've already prided myself on being a practical person and this intersection of—of practicality and care? That's what I find… [struggles to get the word out] romantic.

[Audience "awww"s]

Brooke: [screws up her mouth before leaning over to kiss Ethan on the cheek] Okay, that was sweet. [Thoughtfully] Most romantic thing Ethan has done for me? Well… [side-eyes him, before continuing] The HAZMAT suit sleepover last year was probably up there.

Ethan: [uncomfortable] I don't want that to be classified as—

Brooke: You were there for me at a time when I needed you most. If that's not romance, I don't know what is.

Ethan: [increasingly agitated] That's not romance, dammit, that's—that was a necessity. That was vital. I needed to be there. I needed to make sure you—that you—[cuts himself off, clenching his jaw]

Brooke: [eyes soft as she looks at him. Reaching out she rests her hand on top of his clenched fist until it unfurls slowly underneath hers and he releases his breath slowly] See? [softly] Romance.

Ethan: [sighs deeply, then links his fingers with hers and gruffly kisses the top of her hand] All this tells me is that I've neglected you on the "romance" side of things.

Brooke: [still smiling softly] No complaints. [looks out at the audience] Are we done here? [affects a deep voice] Are you not entertained?

Ethan: [fondly] And she says I'm the dramatic one.

I think we got what we needed, doctors. Thank you for helping out for a good cause. This raffle ticket session alone raised a total of $23,000 for Bloom Edenbook Hospital!

Ethan: [dumbfounded] That is insane.

Brooke: I promise we aren't that interesting.

The people beg to differ. Round of applause for Dr. Brooke Spiers and Dr. Ethan Ramsey for being such good sports. Until next time, doctors!

Ethan: [over thunderous applause] There absolutely won't be a next time.

Brooke: [laughs and stands up, smoothing out her dress]

Audience member that sounds suspiciously like Jackie: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Rest of the audience chimes in: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Brooke: [crosses her arms, smirking at Ethan]

Ethan: Oh for the love of— [acts like he's walking away, then loops an arm around her waist and pulls her close, tilting her back and kissing her thoroughly]

[Audience roars its approval]

Ethan: [pulls away slowly and sets her upright, chucking her chin with an affectionate and slightly devilish smirk. He starts to guide her away from the host and off the makeshift stage]

Brooke: [mutters, still a bit dazedly] Told you. Drama.

[Laughing, they walk off stage together.]

[iamtaekooked]

If We Knew || Kth

Synopsis: When your boss suggests her son is a good match for you, you had no idea just how right she is. 

(or alternatively the one where you know each other but don’t know that you know each other) 

Genre: romance, lots of fluffy moments and smut (I tried man)

Word count: 32k (longest piece I have ever written) 

A/N: Been a while people! I am excited to get back to writing.This got deleted somehow. But I am reposting this on the request one sweet anon. I hope you like it friend! I really like it and I hope you guys do too. Also shoutout to @mygsii​  for helping me with the smut and to @megahwn​ for being an awesome beta reader! ALSO I JUST FINISHED NURSING SCHOOL. HAD MY LAST DAY OF FINAL PRACTICUM AND I PASSED AND YOUR GIRL IS ONE MORE STEP CLOSER TO BEING AN RN!!!

“Why can’t you do it?” Nina asks as she sits down in front of you, snatching your phone from your hand so you can’t be distracted and avoid her (which is something you desperately want to do). You huff as you regard her silently, communicating to her that if she doesn’t give you your phone back, or better yet stop pestering about the stupid app you will kill her. 

If she was your best friend, it would be one thing. But Nina, unfortunately, is the cousin from hell who is the spawn of the devil. When your aunt told you she would stay with you over the summer you didn’t think she would actually end up staying the whole summer. Or that it would extend beyond the summer and into fall and then next year into winter, then spring until she came one full circle with summer a year later.

“It’s enough that my boss keeps trying to push her son on me. Now you’re doing it too. Let me fucking live” 

“I am not pushing your boss’s son on you. I don’t even know that guy. I am however telling you that you should sign up for this app because it is legit. It’s not your traditional dating app. You meet people and you can either become friends, network with people who have similar interests or go for dating. It’s your choice. Plus there are no conditions on this app. It’s confidential until you feel comfortable enough to reveal yourself. My best friend found the love of her life through it. I swear” she pinches the skin of her throat as a gesture of her oath. 

“I don’t want to date” you deadpan. 

“Only married people are supposed to say that. You” she points to you and shakes her head. “You are not married. You are young, and sexy, and hot and any guy would love to get into your pants” 

“Is that what you think I want?” you fold your elbows atop the table and lean towards her, thoroughly curious about her thought process. 

“I am not saying you want to be fucked y/n” her voice is a little too loud and her words a little too indecent to be uttered in a coffee shop. People within your vicinity turn their heads to look at the two of you. You sheepishly duck your head so as not to feel even more embarrassed than you already do. “All I am saying is, give it a try. You might find a decent guy” 

“Is there really such a thing as a ‘decent guy’ nowadays and that too on this money-grabbing, and bullshit app?” 

She observes you silently. “Tsk Tsk. Is this the moment where you go off about how stupid dating apps are and how they glorify the societal belief that superficial beauty is superior to personality and perpetuating the idea that women are good for fucking, and being used?”

“It’s true. Yet you are sitting here telling me to be a part of the herd. Millennials seriously are stupid” you shake your head. 

“Give me a legit reason other than this righteous bullshit” she folds her hands across her chest. 

“Oh my fucking god. That is my reason. I don’t want to because I hate it”

“Oh my fucking god” she mocks your tone. “That doesn’t count” 

“Nina, I swear to the heavens if I don’t have my phone back in thirty seconds I am going to kill you” 

She waves you off. “You’re too nice for that. Now stop changing the damn subject and tell me you will sign up” 

“Give me my phone back” you bite through your teeth, nostrils flaring.

“Fine” she extends the phone towards you and just as you are about to reach for it she pulls her hand back. “First tell me that you’ll make a profile for this app” 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you insufferable being. I will make a profile. Now my phone please” 

She eyes you warily for a brief moment as if trying to seek out any signs of you lying. But then she thinks the better of it. “You better do it” she hands you the phone. 

You take it and pocket the device. “I will see you later at home” 

“You better fucking do it y/n” you hear her shrill voice as you exit the coffee shop and you are sure that definitely turned heads. 

When you were seven all you wanted was to be seventeen. When you were seventeen all you wanted was to be an actual adult and not a teenager because you were sick of being labelled rebellious and moody by adults all the time. Little did you know as a seven and seventeen-year-old that being an adult comes with responsibilities--like paying your own phone bill, paying rent for your house, paying hydro bills, taxes and everything else that the government could possibly take from you. 

The only way you can afford to stay afloat and manage to have some money left over to spend is because you work for a boss who is smitten with you. Because she likes you so much your salary package actually comes with a lot of bonus perks. It’s the only reason you still work for her. She’s a really nice lady but the one thing she lacks is self-restraint when it comes to her son and you. 

The first day you started working at the company, you remember how she called you in her office. You thought she would want to talk to you about something work-related but instead, she showed you pictures of her son and gushed about him for an hour. While all you could do was focus on the papers piling on your desk. 

Mrs. K as she likes to be called is surely a very wealthy woman and like a stereotypical wealthy woman, she loves to play matchmaker. She’s been trying to get you and her son together (whose name you always forget because you couldn’t care less)

As soon as you sit down on your desk your phone rings and her name flashes on the tiny screen of the line. With a sigh you pick it up. 

“Y/n dear, I see that you are back from your lunch” 

“Yes. Mrs.K” you smile into the phone. 

“Will you please come to my office for one moment dear?” 

There is a moment of hesitancy as you fall silent. You have an inkling as to what this could be about and you really don’t want to go. But given that she is the woman who pays you and handsomely too, you don’t have much of a choice. 

“I will be there Mrs.K” you try your best to sound as excited by it as possible.

Sometimes you wonder if having been in the business of producing cheesy TV shows for decades has had an impact on the old woman. Or maybe she really is a stereotypical wealthy woman who now that she has made something of herself, doesn’t have any other occupation than seeing her son start his own family. 

Your thoughts provide for a good distraction as you reach her office. You stand tentatively outside the door, wondering if you should knock. But before you have the chance to further dwell on it the door opens to reveal Mrs K. herself. 

“Come on in dear!” she ushers you inside quickly 

“How are you?” you question as she guides you to the very comfortable looking couches on one side of the room. “Are these new?” you point to the posh sofas. 

“Yes, my son bought them for me. I suppose as a present or maybe a bribe. He’s been buying me a lot of things lately” she laughs obnoxiously. 

“A bribe?” You frown in confusion at her remark. 

“Let’s just say that he is not a fan of my imposition on him to settle down. He thinks buying me things would somehow earn him some sliver of freedom from it. But all I want is what is best for him” she sits down opposite you and gestures for you to take a seat as well. 

You respond with an awkward laugh because you don’t know how else to reply. You can understand why he would want to get out of it. “So is he going to earn his sliver of freedom..?” you trail with a tone of anticipation. 

She laughs in a deflective way as she waves you off. “I called you here because I want to ask your honest opinion of my son” 

“With all due respect Mrs. K I don’t know your son so-”

“So get to know him then” she says airily. “He’s coming to visit in a few days. I would love it if you two met. I am not saying this because he’s my son but he’s a catch” she winks which makes you laugh. 

“I-” you begin and stop upon noticing how hopeful and excited she looks. “Sure” 

“Great!” she claps excitedly

The things you have to do to make sure you don’t piss your boss off. 

“You what!?” you look at Nina in disbelief. 

“I signed you up for that app” she replies putting all her focus on applying the nail polish to her toes and ignoring you.

“I told you I didn’t want to!” 

She looks up at you with a straight face. “So, you lied” 

“Yes. Because it’s my choice!” 

She stops her ministrations and places the tiny bottle of nail polish down on the table. “Too bad y/n” she shrugs casually because she probably can’t see the problem with her actions. “You’re all signed up and well I paid for it so you can’t really cancel until a few days” 

“You just wasted your money” you flop into the sofa, limbs falling over the edges. 

Just then your phone vibrates and you pick it  up. It’s a notification from the ‘Swipe’ app. Who even names their app Swipe? 

You’re in the midst of opening your phone when it’s snatched from you by Nina. Again.

“Hey!” you yell in protest. 

“Sorry cous” she shrugs and runs towards the bathroom just as you begin to get up from your comfortable spot. 

“Nina give my phone back or I will kill you!” 

“You’ll thank me for this!”she yells . Then you hear the sound of the door shutting and it prompts you to run after her. 

“Why are you being an ass?” you pound on the door with your fist 

“I am just helping you” comes her relaxed voice. 

“You fucking suck!” you groan and give up hitting your fist against the door because it starts to hurt. 

A second later she is opening the door, waving your phone in her hand with a mischievous grin on her face. “Talk to him” she throws your phone at you and then strides by as if it’s all part of your normal living routine. 

You fumble as you catch your phone. “Talk to who?” you look after her. 

“The hottie” she looks at you over her shoulder and then disappears up the stairs and into her bedroom. 

“What the fuck?” you flip your phone and come across an open chat, a ‘hi’ already sent. 

Your eyes flicker to the tiny profile picture at the top of the screen. You can’t really see the guy’s face because it’s covered by a black hat. You click on it and it enlarges, yet you still can’t make out his face because the image is so pixelated. Despite yourself, you find your curiosity piqued by the mysterious stranger. 

You swipe to his profile which reads: 

Art connoisseur, wine taster, dog lover. Classical music is a comfort for my soul. Grew up in LA but made it on my own in New York. 

Three things strike you as you read his profile: he sounds and (going by his photo) he looks like he’s probably rich. Normal people with regular jobs don’t talk about art and wine like it’s their occupation. Second, he likes classical music and so do you, and he grew up in LA and so did you. Third, even though in none of his pictures his face is visible what does become clear is that he is definitely a man of refined tastes. 

He’s got pictures of himself in various museums with his back facing the camera and The Starry Night and Mona Lisa making an appearance in the background as he presumably admires the beautiful masterpieces. He's got pictures of a dog, you assume his, which is the cutest dog you have laid eyes on. It’s a Black and Tan Pomeranian with the cutest face. 

Your attention is stolen by a notification that appears at the top of your screen. You find yourself directed to the messages and staring back at you is a ‘hey’ by the art connoisseur guy whose username weirdly is ‘icedtea’. What kind of dating app allows usernames like that? 

You blink at your screen and then shut your phone, too tired and exhausted to respond. In fact, you don’t even know if you want to respond or if you have any interest in all of this dating crap. 

It’s at this moment you regret you aren’t seventeen and hence can’t indulge in simple pleasures of life like feelings and dating. Because if you were seventeen you would have talked to him and grabbed the opportunity. Because if you were seventeen you would let yourself be swept off your feet by him or by any other man. Because when you were seventeen you let yourself fall in love. 

But all of it seems like a scam anyway, especially this guy. So maybe it’s not such a bad thing to feel so removed from it. Or maybe that’s just another excuse not to open yourself up to a wider world and explore wider horizons as Nina puts it.

Saturday nights are supposed to be relaxing. They are supposed to be the one day you get to yourself. The one day you can be free of your boss’s incessant nagging about how you and her son would be the perfect couple and how you would have beautiful babies together. It’s the one day you don’t have a shit ton of work to do and you can put your feet up on the table, grab popcorn and watch horror movies all night long. After all there is nothing like horror movies to de-stress from real life horror called ‘work’. It’s a counterintuitive approach and it works. It’s for cathartic purposes which why you do it despite disapproving looks from Nina. 

“You’re so fucking weird cous” she drawls, dipping her hand into the popcorn bowl resting on your lap and taking a handful of it, and spilling some on you. You pick each kernel from your lap and throw it at her. She isn’t fazed by it at all and keeps her eyes glued to the TV. 

“I thought this is fucking weird” you scowl at her and then focus your attention to the movie. 

“I can still enjoy popcorn,” she says in her usual monotone voice. “Besides, I wouldn’t expect anything exciting from you. Like texting the app guy instead of watching a movie” she pops a few kernels in her mouth like a savage, smearing butter all over her mouth. 

Your brows furrow in distaste. “Why can’t you be more… gentle” 

“Because I am masculine and gay” 

You choke which makes her start laughing. “You are!?” you gawk at her. 

“No. Chill. I just like mess you fucking weirdo” a crooked smile forms on her lips. 

“Asshole” you throw a kernel at her which hits her cheek. She is yet unfazed by it. “I think your dick disappeared in the womb” you remark at her tomboyish ways which there is nothing wrong with except she doesn’t have a shred of gracefulness in her despite coming from a long line of ballerina’s. 

“I know” she grabs another handful and shoves it in her mouth. “Anyway” her voice is unclear as she is in the middle of chewing. “The guy from the app. Have you texted him back?” she rubs her hands on her PJ’s. 

You restrain yourself from commenting on her unhygienic ways. “No I haven’t” 

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Christmas? It's been more than 24 hours” she looks at you incredulously, disbelief painted on her face clear as day. 

“He looks sketchy as fuck” you turn to her. 

She guffaws. “Really, cous. You should be the last person passing judgements on men. The last time you were with a guy was when you were seventeen fucking years old” 

“Yeah. So?” you shrug, feeling offended by her remark. 

“So” she turns her body towards you, placing one foot underneath her knee, sitting partially cross legged. “You are highly unqualified to make that statement. Why do you think I picked him? I know my men” 

“It’s a wonder you haven’t died of syphilis” 

She rolls her eyes very dramatically and sighs as if she’s about to give up. But then she settles back and regards you in silence. Before you know what’s happening she is grabbing your phone, and unlocking it. 

“What are you doing?” you extend an arm across her body to reach for your phone. But she stretches her arm further out of your reach. 

“Stop resisting. Trust me you and this guy will hit it off and then you can finally get laid. I can tell he’s a freak in the sheets” she furiously types and waits and then types again. 

Sometimes you can’t believe how she strings words together. The things that come out of her mouth will make her poor mother faint. She has no clue she gave birth to the literal spawn of the devil. 

“Whatever” you sigh and settle back because there is no point in arguing with her. You would rather not waste any more precious time on her and her stupid antics. 

“Here” she throws your phone at you and it lands in your lap. “He’s a fucking catch y/n. Cast your net” she winks. 

You look at your phone to find a picture of the cute Pomerian from before. The caption underneath the picture reads “Yeontan”. To your horror you scroll up to find the cheesiest and most disgusting pick up line in the history of pick up lines. 

It reads: 

Bananamilk: Hey are you art? Because I could look at you all day long ;)))))

Icedtea: Are you religious? Because you are the answer to all my prayers

It's highly mortifying, to say the least. How does she even think of these things? You seriously wonder what goes on in her head. She'll definitely land herself in trouble. But there are more pressing concerns to think of because the art connoisseur guy has sent another picture. You scroll down the chat and find a picture of a dog standing on two paws and the other two held up in air.

Icedtea: can you tell I love my dog?

You have no choice but to text back because Nina is right there and if you don’t she will pester you. 

Bananamilk: I sure can :) He's cute too.

Icedtea: How did you know he's a he?

Bananamilk: lucky guess?

You see the three ellipses showing that he's typing so you quickly turn to Nina, who has already changed the movie to some weird random action flick.

"Hey asshole" you throw a pillow at her.

"Yes, weirdo?" she looks from the TV screen to you.

"Why does this scam of an app not have our real names as our users and why did you not use a proper picture of me?" you frown at her.

"Welcome to the 21st century" she offers sarcastically. Of course, what else can you really expect from her? "It's because they offer that as a choice for people who don’t want to share everything on the first try because it’s not a dating app. I told you you can choose what you wanna do. Also, I used that hiking picture of you because well blonde hair looked better on you and those glasses suit you. I thought you wouldn't like showing your face and me putting your name down, so I chose the next best thing"

"Banana milk?" you raise a brow at her, not even trying to hide the judgemental tone behind that comment.

"Hey! banana milk is the best kind of milk okay? Stop being a judgemental bitch"

You chuckle at her expression which screams she's offended. "Thanks anyway. At least you don't completely lack humanity"

“That’s a step up from calling me spawn of the devil” she chuckles, returning her focus to the TV.

Just then your phone vibrates and for some damn reason, your heart skips a beat. You feel your lips tugging at the corners and hurriedly open the text.

Icedtea: I see you also like classical music.

Bananamilk: I love it

Icedtea: it's so much better than all this garbage people spew out and label as music these days

Bananamilk: Right? I've had so many debates about it with people around me and everyone just calls me insipid and biddy.

Icedtea: I take offense to this. Classical music is anything but boring. What's your favourite piece?

Bananamilk: I have a lot but I love Tchaikovsky'Swan Lake. What about you?

Icedtea: That sure is a classic. I might be cliche but I like Beethoven's 7th symphony.

Bananamilk: That isn’t cliche at all. It sure is one of the best ones out there. You have great taste

Icedtea: Thank you m’lady. What else do you like?

Bananamilk: I firmly hold the belief that I was born in the wrong century. But when in Rome live like Romans right?. So...Netflix. 

Icedtea: I knew that was coming. No conversation is complete without Netflix. It’s the new status quo 

Bananamilk: It is and I HATE the status quo but Netflix is sort of amazing? 

Icedtea: Have you watched The Witcher yet?

Bananamilk: I devoured it when it came out. I would never pass on any Henry Cavill show or movie. The man is ethereal and he should be illegal 

Somehow talking to this stranger isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. He’s actually kind of sweet and you do share interests in common. Maybe Nina-- the spawn of the devil, is actually onto something. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Maybe you can pretend to be seventeen for a little while longer. 

Icedtea: i have to agree with you on that 

Bananamilk: Oh? 

Icedtea: Not like that. Like I said in my profile I am an art connoisseur. Would I be wrong in saying that Mr. Henry Cavill is art? I appreciate beauty when I see it. I don’t discriminate or be sexist about it. 

Bananamilk: You’re right he is a piece of art. A goddamn fine piece of art. 

Icedtea: You’re funny 

A laugh escapes past your lips at his compliment making Nina’s attention shift towards you. 

“Careful y/n, don’t fall in love too fast” her voice cuts through and pulls you out of your immersed state. 

You shoot her a disapproving look. “Only you would say something as irrationly idiotic as that” 

“The smile on your face a minute ago said otherwise” she shrugs. 

“You’re hallucinating”

“Sure. Whatever you say” she snorts. 

You both end up softly chuckling to yourself. 

You spend the rest of the night talking to V. It’s what he tells you to call him. At first you found it weird but you felt it too early to probe and pry about his personal life. You figure it must have some meaning for him to ask you to call him that. You end up telling him to call you whatever he wishes and he chooses m’lady, because apparently he is a gentleman and in his words “also born in the wrong century”. 

Iced tea: I hated growing up in LA. Worst place ever. Really blows your self esteem to pieces. That’s why I moved to New York 

Bananamilk: It’s all about validation at that godforsaken place. 

Icedtea: Right? I am so glad I got out of that place.  

Bananamilk: Me too. One more year there and I would have lost it. Btw why is your username icedtea? Just curious 

Icedtea: I love iced tea. That’s why. When I have to go to these company parties and interact with rich white men, I fool them into thinking I am drinking alcohol and joining the status quo. But it’s actually iced tea. It looks like alcohol anyway so why not?

Bananamilk: I like intellectuals. You sir, sure are one 

Icedtea: Thank you m’lady. I suppose you love banana milk?

Bananamilk: Uhhh… i guess you can say so 

You lose track of time as you keep texting back and forth, coming to a point where you are just exchanging puns and one liners but then sleep begins to lay heavy in your eyes and the curtain of your lashes starts closing. The last thing you see is a ‘good night’ text from V with a purple heart. 

You wake up to a text from V. The initial pleasant feeling comes as a surprise even to you because you didn’t expect to feel so -- special, dare anyone say. It turns out to be a gif of the very sexy Henry Cavill wishing you good morning. 

Bananamilk: awww you remembered? 

Icedtea: Ofcourse, I did :) A very good morning to you

Bananamilk: Good morning to you too 

Icedtea: I am actually heading out so won’t be able to talk much until I get there

Bananamilk: me neither. I am sure a huge pile of work is waiting for me at work

You drag yourself out of the bed, feeling slightly disappointed and dreadful for two reasons. One that you have to go to the doctor. Second, you won’t get much chance to talk to this very pleasing stranger you have actually started to take a liking to. It’s only because you have things in common with him that you feel drawn to him. 

Or that’s what gives you comfort when your mind reminds you there is something else happening too— something a little uncomfortable called ‘feelings’

But you’re dead set on believing that it’s because you share commonalities. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself in moments when your mind isn’t preoccupied by anything and he pops into your head. 

Like when you’re going through paperwork, and nothing particularly is keeping you engaged, conversations with him flash in your head. In particular, the fluttery feeling that rose to your chest yesterday morning when you saw his username appear on your screen and then a very sweet good morning text. 

You have never in twenty whole three years of your life received good morning texts. Not even from Woohyun who you were with when you were seventeen. Up until recently you were sure he was your one true love. But somehow that perception is beginning to change. Because a man named V who resides in the Apple city is slowly but surely showing you what a man actually interested in you will do. 

So is it really your fault that your chest feels light, your stomach feels tight when you think of him? Is it really your fault that you are in such a good mood? So much so, that when Nina flings the door and walks into your office unannounced you greet her with a smile instead of having a full blown dramatic altercation.

“Woah” she stops in her tracks when she notices your smile. “Where the fuck is y.n?” 

“Uhhhh….” you put the papers down. “Right here” you point to yourself. 

“No that’s not her” she deadpans. “Did she finally die?”

“Wow” you huff. “Anyway, did you get bored of hell?” 

“Hell doesn’t need me right now” she waves you off. You love how you jab at each other but never take it seriously. That’s what you love about her. Ofcourse, you don’t hate her but somehow taking digs at each other has just become the norm. Multiple times people have asked you if you guys really hate each other, and both of you reply positively to those claims, because they don’t need to know that you truly do like each other. “I am here to inquire about you and lover boy” 

“L-Lover boy?” your brows furrow. “I don’t even know if it’s a boy. For all I know its a girl and I am falling for a girl” 

“And that’s a problem because…?” she trails off, swivelling in the chair in front of you. 

“There is nothing wrong with being gay. But I just imagine him as a guy and well I am not really.. You know?” 

“I digress. I’ve seen your texts. He’s definitely a guy and charming at that” 

“How the fuck did you see my texts?” you gape at her, unable to believe that she’s actually figured out the password to-- but then you remember she’s opened it up twice when she was forcefully trying to set up your profile and get you to talk to V. How this never occurred to you, you don’t know. 

“I sneaked into your room at like 5 am, opened it up and read your texts” she says matter-of-factly. 

“Is there ever a wrong thing you don’t involve yourself in?”

“Nope” she shakes her head. “You’re going off track, cousin. Tell me the deets” 

“There are no deets. Why are you asking? You read the texts anyway” you shake your head at her 

“ Not all of them. I have a conscience you know?”

“The Devil has no conscience” you mumble under your breath. “He sent me a good morning text with a Henry Cavill gif captioned good morning” 

Her eyes widen, brows risen. “A guy who doesn’t find your Henry Cavill obsession creepy? Told you he’s a fucking catch” 

You chuckle “How the hell did you find my office?” 

“Simple. I asked around” she purses her lips in a smile. 

“You got your so called deets. Now get out” you offer a sarcastic smile before lowering your head and busying yourself in analyzing the reports in front of you. 

She gasps. “Wow bitch. So much for helping you” she dramatically places a hand on her chest feigning hurt. 

“Get out, asshole” you say in a sing song voice completely avoiding her. 

“I am gonna steal this guy from you” she gives you a dirty look. “Just you watch” 

“He likes classical music” you quip, keeping your eyes focused on the papers in front of you. 

Another gasp fills the air. “Abomination. Nevermind you keep him to yourself. We don’t need that kind of atrocity in the world” 

“Bye” you look up from your desk and flash her a quick smile. 

“Have a horrible day cousin” she waves as she walks away

“Likewise cousin” 

Your phone vibrates and immediately you drop the papers on your desk and reach for it, all preoccupation with work forgotten in a moment. 

Icedtea: Save me 

Bananamilk: you’re supposed to be my knight in shining armour. 

Icedtea: Welcome to the 21st century. 

Bananamilk: People keep telling me that :| Why do you need saving? 

Icedtea: I am flying out to meet my mother today and let's just say she’s a handful

Bananamilk: that’s mothers for you. But then what would we do without them 

Icedtea: thats true. But my mother is on a whole other level. 

Bananamilk: everyone thinks that. I am sure you can handle yourself. You are a big boy. 

Icedtea: how reassuring. 

Bananamilk: I wish I could offer more but sometimes you just have to suck it up. 

Icedtea: I suck at sucking it up

It makes you chuckle. You shake your head at the phone as your fingers furiously type. 

Bananamilk: Do you trust me?

Iced tea: You use big words 

Bananamilk: If you trust me, even just a teeny tiny bit then trust that you will be okay.

Icedtea: Six-ish hours in an airplane. That should be fun

Bananamilk: You will be fine. 

Icedtea: if you say so m’lady. Anyway, I gotta catch my flight. I will talk to you later. Promise. 

Bananamilk: Have a safe flight V :) 

Icedtea: See ya later alligator ;) 

You turn off your phone and lower your head resting it atop your arms on your desk. Somehow you feel giddy. You feel warmth coursing through you, yet a sudden shiver passes through your body. The conversation repeats in your head and you wonder about the face that hides behind the other side of the screen. What does he actually look like? It’s hard when you don’t know, to imagine how he smiles, what he looks like when he laughs, when he frowns. All the emotions he evokes in you, you want to know what they look like on him. 

It’s a strange feeling to behold these feelings, to have them flow through you when you don’t even know who it is on the other side. In a way it’s a recipe for disaster because things like this don’t end well for most people. Yet here you are stuck in a very surreal situation, one you never thought you would find yourself in. 

The rest of the day after your conversation with V, passes by very quickly. It would have dragged on, had it not been for the mood he had managed to put you in. After a while, even the amount of paperwork on your desk couldn’t deter and terrify you. If anything, being able to talk to him after work motivated you to work faster. And working actually distracted you from him which is a good thing because you do need to get work done. So in a way, it worked out either way. 

The day surprisingly ends with Mrs.K not calling you into her office even once. You would feel thankful anytime for this, but especially this particular day you feel grateful because it surely would have put a small damper on your mood. You gather your belongings and head out, glancing at your phone here and there. Has he reached safely? That is the one thought that occupies your head. 

He hasn’t texted you so you think he’s either not landed yet, or he’s busy. You didn’t want to press him for details. Although you do feel like you are at that friendship stage, it only feels like the beginning. So you want to still maintain boundaries as best you can. Just because it’s an online thing doesn’t mean boundaries don’t exist-- a fact many people fail to grasp. 

You mindlessly reach the lobby without even realizing it. You’re stepping out of the elevators when you see Mrs K. walking with a man, her hand hooked in the crook of his elbow. By the looks of it, he appears to be young. He’s definitely tall- close to six feet probably. Something falls out of his pocket as you observe them. You try to call out but decide it’s better to just pick it up and give it to him. 

You jog to where the object has dropped and as you draw closer you realize it’s a piece of paper. You don’t mean to pry but as you pick it up the paper slightly unfolds and curiosity ends up getting the best of you. It’s not like you opened it. It unfolded itself, so you take it upon yourself to straighten out the rest. It’s a beautiful sketch of a girl. She looks like she’s in her twenties. The way he drew her eyes makes it look like she’s holding stars behind them and gives the illusion of them sparkling. Must be someone he likes, or someone he admires. You quickly fold it back, not wanting to further invade the stranger’s privacy. 

“Excuse me!” you call out. 

Mrs. K turns around first and then the young man next to her does the same. His eyes land right on you and feeling his gaze, your eyes flicker from Mrs K. to him. You were right. He is young, and extremely handsome. He’s got permed hair that falls as bangs on his forehead. His black hair is a little grown out as it forms a nape on his neck like a mullet. For a brief second you want to run your hand through his head. He’s even wearing a suit so you imagine he might be a corporate guy. It seems to be perfectly tailored to him, the jacket flaring slightly just above his waist and the pants accentuating his long lean legs. 

Shaking away the thoughts, you approach them. “You dropped this” hand outstretched. You hold out the drawing to him. 

“Thank you” comes his deep voice. It doesn’t match very well with his face because he looks like someone who would have a softer voice. 

“No problem” you smile and he takes the paper from your hand, his fingers gently grazing yours as he does so, and a shiver runs down your spine at the contact. You ignore the sensation and turn to Mrs.K. “Hello Mrs. K.” you greet her holding onto your smile. 

“Y/n! Lovely that we ran into you here.” 

“Y/n?” the young man looks at Mrs. K and then at you with a raised brow

“This is the girl I have been telling you about all along” she looks giddly between you and him. “Y/n this is my son” he unhooks her arm from his elbow and he politely puts his hands together in front of himself. 

Oh so this is him. 

He first offers you a small nod and then extends his hand. “I am Kim Taehyung” 

You look between the mother and son, eyes stopping on the man you know as Taehyung.His name does ring a bell given the countless times it’s been mentioned to you.  “Nice to meet you Taehyung. I am y/n” you shake his hand which is warm and just firm enough. 

“Pleasure is mine. I have heard a lot about you” he smiles in that knowing way, a glint of recognition of his mother’s words reflecting in his eyes. He’s surely referring to the tons of times Mrs K. would’ve mentioned you as a potential romantic partner.  

“I have heard tons about you too” your lips curve up in an unintentional smile as his eyes bore into yours. There is a moment of silence as both of you quietly look at each other until Mrs. K clears her throat and you both look away. 

“My mother seems to be a fan of yours. That’s a hard feat. I haven’t been able to do that in twenty-five years of my life” his lips split in a mischievous smile which is warm and you feel yourself falling into it as well. 

“She adores you” you look between Mrs K. and him. 

“You’re just saying that because she’s right here and you can’t out her because she’s your boss. Be honest” he retorts in a playful tone.

Mrs Kim. gently slaps him across the shoulder. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me” 

You chuckle at the cuteness that is Mrs K, and even her son Kim Taehyung. 

“I am sorry if I interrupted you. I only wanted to give you the paper. It fell out of your pocket” you look at Taehyung and then at Mrs. K feeling a little guilty about imposing on their time.

“Oh you stop it too y/n” Mrs.K waves you off.  “I am very glad you bumped into us like this. Now I have somewhere very important to be” she looks at her watch. “Taehyung be the gentleman that I raised you to be and drop y/n off at home” 

“No-” you open your mouth in protest but Mrs. K is already walking the opposite way towards the doors, albeit very hurriedly. Taehyung turns around to watch his mother amble away, leaving him and you alone. That was her intention the moment you stepped into the scene. 

He turns back around to face you. “She’s not very subtle about it is she?” and then he breaks out into a grin. 

“I am sorry to say this. But no” you grimace slightly. 

“It’s quite alright. I know she can be a handful” 

You remember how V called his mother a handful too and chuckle. 

“What is it?” his brows knit together in confusion. 

“It’s just that someone said that to me this morning. But sometimes you have to suck it up” your eyes lock on Taehyung’s. 

He laughs lightly too. “Funny. Someone said that to me this morning”

“That is…” you pause to search for the right word. “A little bit strange” 

“Well, stranger things have happened miss y/n” 

Little did you know both know he was right. Among the many strange that could happen, one of them was happening to you both and neither of you were aware of it. 

Taehyung being the filial son to his mother, decides to drive you home despite your protestation. He wouldn’t take no for an answer so despite yourself you agree to let him give you a ride. He’s actually as nice as his mother had said he is, and now you realize she wasn’t just saying that because he is her son. He really does have a warm personality, and you feel drawn to him. You can’t pinpoint it exactly to one thing because it’s several reasons—it’s the way he conducts himself, the way he speaks with authority yet politeness, the way he is so grounded and humble-- all of it makes him appealing. 

Even though he hails from a super rich family, drives an expensive Maybach which is worth more than your three year salary combined, and wears a suit that you can’t even think of buying-- he’s so humble. He isn’t flashy about it. He hasn’t once flexed his wealth or brought up his family with you. 

“I really want to apologize for my mother” he glances at you quickly before focusing back on the road. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to talk so formally by the way” you try your best to put him at ease because since the moment you have met him he has been nothing but respectful. 

“Okay” he quips. “But I really am sorry. I know she can be a little bit too imposing sometimes” 

“She can. But I understand the reason. You’re her only son and she wants the best or you” 

You can feel his eyes on you which makes you turn to him. “What is it?” you question. 

He’s silent as he studies you, gaze lingering for a second longer and then he shifts his eyes to the road. “You’re not at all like my mother described you” 

“Really?” 

He nods. “You’re better” he glances at you from the corners of his eyes.

Your heart skips a beat at hearing him say that. “I am flattered. I always thought she was building you up and that you weren’t actually what she made you out to be” 

“And...?” he trails off as he quickly does a shoulder check and changes lanes. 

You let the silence build for a moment before speaking. “You’ve exceeded my expectations” a slow smile appears on your lips.You watch as he turns to you briefly and his mouth parts into a small smile as well. 

Silence falls over you. You look out of the window and watch as the city passes you by with its tall buildings, skyscrapers and large mountains. You rest your head against the headrest and fumble with your fingers absentmindedly, absorbing yourself into the passing landscape. Out of the corner of your eyes you notice Taehyung loosening his tie, an action that ends up making you smile to yourself-- for what reason, you don’t know. You have known him for ten minutes and he’s already having an effect on you. 

“Music?” his voice cuts through the heavy silence, which comes as welcomed relief. 

“Sure” you nod. 

A second later music drifts through the speakers. The melody is familiar but because the volume is turned low, you can’t make it out. 

“Can I turn it up if you don’t mind?” 

“Please go ahead” he motions to the navigation system and you turn the dial. 

You wait for a moment as you take in the melody. “Is this Claire de Lune?” 

“You know it?” he looks at you from the periphery of his vision, slightly turning his head towards you. 

“Who doesn’t?” you look at him as if it’s the most obvious thing that everyone knows what Claire de Lune is. “Actually I take it back” 

He laughs and turns the volume lower so you can talk. “You are the second person I know who is into classical music. I think it’s my lucky week or something” 

Your lips teeter in a smile. “Who is the first person?” 

He doesn’t respond immediately and you notice him blinking rapidly as if he’s trying to contemplate what to say. “Someone I know” he says softly 

“Well now you know two people who share your interest” 

“That I do” he grins at you like a child does when they get their favorite toy or candy. 

It’s silent again until your stomach grumbles, catching Taehyung’s attention. “Someone’s hungry” 

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and the overall result is you lowering your head and tightening your arms around your torso.  “I had a lot of paperwork to look over so I didn’t take lunch” 

“I know a good place, if you want to grab a bite?” 

You ponder his offer. “I don’t think you’re a serial killer so I think it’s safe to go with you” 

A soft chuckle falls from his lips at your joke which suddenly makes a feeling of pride rise in your chest. “I listen to classical music” he wags his brows at you playfully. “Most definitive sign of a serial killer” 

“I have pepper spray so I’ll be okay” you say. 

It comes out more matter of factly which makes him do a double take “Wait, do you really have pepper spray?” a slight look of confusion presents on his face as his brows crinkle. 

“No” you laugh and shake your head. “I am joking” 

“Sense of humor. I like it” he nods slowly as if he’s impressed. 

“Well I could say the same for you” 

By the time you reach the place Taehyung wanted to bring you to, the sun has already set behind the mountains in the distance. The sky welcomes the dusk by softly melting from blue to black and a slight chill settles into the air. 

While you fumble with the belt, Taehyung much to your surprise gets out of the car. You follow his movements and watch him coming around to your side and open the door for you. 

You still can’t unbuckle your seatbelt. Fancy cars and their fancy seatbelts, you think. It shouldn’t have to be so hard but when something costs a fortune obviously there are going to things beyond the capacity of a common person like this seatbelt from hell. 

“May I?” Taehyung questions as he holds the door open and points to the seatbelt. 

“Thank you” you stop struggling with it and pull your hands back in your lap. 

“Sorry” he mumbles, ducking his head before he reaches across you and unbuckles it for you with a single click. He’s slowly pulling back when he stops, face inches away from yours, his warm breath fanning your face. His gaze lingers on you for a few seconds before he steps back and offers you his hand. You gratefully take it and with his help lift yourself up and out of the car. 

Thank you again” you say softly and he nods. 

He nods. “There’s something…” he reaches up and presses a finger to your cheek. He pulls it back and shows it to you. “Make a wish” he whispers. 

“W-what?” you whisper back in an entranced state. 

“You’re supposed to make a wish when a lash falls on your cheek” he says gently, reaching down to grab one of your hands. He then places it on the back of your hand. The spot he had touched makes your skin tingle. 

He’s holding your entire attention without even trying. Your mind is blank, and your eyes refuse to leave his gaze. It’s like he’s bewitched you, and you will be putty in his hands if he wished it this second. You would forget your inhibitions if he told you to. You’d give into whatever he tells you to if it means he’ll continue to look at you like he can’t see anything else around him. 

“Wish miss y/n” he motions to your hand as a reminder.

“I don’t know what to wish for” your voice comes out just a touch shy of a whisper. 

“Anything” his mouth parts in that heartbreakingly beautiful smile. “Whatever you want, it’s yours to wish for” 

With those simple words melting into your mind like a mantra, you close your eyes and wish with your entire being. You open your eyes to find him looking at you with that soft look in his eyes. 

“What did you wish for?” he asks

“I don’t wish and tell” you joke 

He laughs. “Alright. Fair enough. Shall we go inside?” he offers his arm. 

“I am not sure you’re real” you chuckle hooking your hand in his elbow. 

“I am very real” he leans down towards you. “You can check” he turns his cheek in your direction for you to satisfy your curiosity. 

You poke his cheek, a bit harder than you’re meant to just to tease him. “Real for sure” 

“That’s gonna bruise” his lip juts in a pout as he straightens up. “Like my dear mother said before, she raised me to be a gentleman” 

“You should have been born like ten decades earlier” you tease. 

“I know. I was born in the wrong century” he begins walking again with you in tow. 

You walk across the parking lot and arrive at  the restaurant. To your surprise it isn’t an expensive place you had been expecting. It’s a mid range restaurant, the perfect combination of affordable and fancy. You can eat what you want without having to worry about your bank balance but still feel bougie while doing so. 

There is no line up but from the large windows you can see the whole restaurant is full, a good indication that the food must be delicious. Just the thought makes your mouth water. Taehyung holds the door open for you and you step inside. You wait for him and then both of you proceed further where you are greeted by the hostess.

“Your name please Sir?” she asks graciously 

“Kim Taehyung” he replies with a thin lipped smile 

“Right this way Mr. and Mrs.Kim” she says, and you open your mouth to protest but Taehyung vigorously shakes his head. Confusedly you follow behind him,  hand still resting in the crook of his elbow. The hostess leads you to a table in a quiet corner for which you feel thankful. 

She lays down your menus on the table and then saunters off. Taehyung unwraps your hand from his arm gently and is quick to pull back a chair. “Here wifey” he says with a wink. 

“Excuse me?” you try to hold back your laugh. 

“You’re my wife so this is the least I can do for you” he grins from ear to ear

You shake your head and comply. Once you’re seated he pushes the chair in and then rounds the table to sit in front of you. 

“We’ve only known each other for” you look at your watch and then up at him. “Thirty minutes and now I am your wife?” 

“Come on. You might as well be because my dear mother is hell bent on you and I getting together” he says with a playful smile. 

“Hmm” you lean back against your chair as you scrutinize him. “Jokes aside. What’s your honest opinion on that?” somehow the curiosity ends up getting the better of you. You weren’t going to ask him but since he brought it up you really did want to know what he thought about all of it because eventually one day you would have had to meet him anyway. You already told Mrs.K you would so now is better than later. 

“Honestly? I don’t know what I think about the prospect of us” 

You feel a slight pang rise in your chest at his remark. “Is there someone else?” 

“Ummm” his lip protrudes in a pout as he thinks. “Not really” 

“It’s alright you can tell me” you prompt, genuinely interested. But underneath all of that is somehow a slight twinge of disappointment that settles in your chest.

“I met her online” he quips, looking away sheepishly. “But it’s just friendship at this point. Nothing more” 

“Never know Mr.Kim. It might turn into something more” 

“Eh” he shrugs. “Mrs. Kim” he adds with a goofy grin. “I like how it sounds” 

“What?” 

“Mr. and Mrs.Kim. It’s pleasant to hear” 

“Don’t get hung up on it” you chuckle. 

“Don’t break my heart okay?” 

“You are something else Kim Taehyung” you shake your head at him with a smile

You spend the rest of the time at the restaurant ordering food, eating and talking. Being around him is like comfort. It feels like coming home after a long hard day at work and relaxing. Being around him is also intoxicating because he feels a little bit like a drug— addicting and euphoric. 

You find out that you and him share not only love for classical music but also for reading. He’s apparently very big on classics like 1984 and Brave New World. Brave New World was the first novel you ever read and it captivated you in a way nothing has captured your attention— until V and Taehyung. 

“1984 was so amazing. It’s Orwell’s masterpiece” his voice sounds distant in your ears.

“Hmm?” you blink away your thoughts focusing back on him, the feeling of nervousness slowly pooling in your stomach. 

“What’s on your mind?” he drops the fork he’s holding, and focuses all his attention on you as he stares at you intently.

“Nothing. I just zoned out” you supply with a pursed smile. 

“I see why my mother likes you” 

“Why?” 

“You have a way of making people curious. I look at you and I think she’s an open book. But then I talk to you and you’re a complete mystery” his eyes crinkle at the corners as he very imperceptibly narrows his eyes in that intrigued kind of way. 

“Trust me. I am no mystery. I lay it all out there for people to see because I can’t do mystery”

“Are you sure y/n?” your name falls softly through his lips. “Because I feel like I know you, yet I don’t” 

You chuckle and shake your head. “What do you want to know?” 

“What would you be comfortable sharing?” 

He couldn’t get any more perfect could he? 

Never before has anyone in your life ever asked you that. People always list out things they would like to know. They never ask for permission or even consider if what they want to know is something you’re okay talking about. 

“I-”

“Are you enjoying everything Mr. and Mrs. Kim?” The hostess comes by your table. 

“Actually the thing is we’re-”

“Everything is delicious. Thank you” Taehyung replies with a warm smile. 

“Enjoy” she says and then strides away to another table. 

Once she leaves you turn to him. “You are enjoying this aren’t you? This whole Mr. and Mrs. Kim thing” 

“Oh come on. Don’t be a joy killer. I told you I love how it sounds. And I like being Mr. Kim” he shrugs. 

“But you’re Mr. Kim anyway” you remind him. 

“Yeah. But the context is different. I am the ‘married’ Mr. Kim right now.” he says it so lightly it almost makes you choke. You don’t even think he realizes how that sounds. 

“Get married and then you’ll always be the married Mr. Kim.” you tease despite feeling like it’s a little too flirty for the first meeting. You take a sip of water feeling your throat drying by the second. 

“Then marry me y/n” 

You choke on the water “W-what?” a cough passes through your chest and out. 

He silently observes the shocked expression on your face, a smile teetering at the edge of his lips. “I am kidding.” he replies a moment later. 

“Good. I thought you were serious for a second” you shake your head at him grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth. 

He grins goofily at you. “Are you okay though?” 

“No thanks to you” you reach for the glass of water and chug it.

After dinner Taehyung suggests dessert. It turns out you both share an undying love for shaved ice. Taehyung even pulls out pictures of him in fancy shaved ice places in New York to prove to you he’s serious. In turn you show him a list of shaved ice you have already tried and how you’ve ranked them from best to worst. 

“No way. You think strawberry is the worst flavor?” he looks at you, disbelief and incredible disappointment painted altogether on his face. 

“I am sorry. I think it is. But mango, now that’s a great shaved ice flavor. Strawberry is too light for me”

“Wow. I am thoroughly offended” he huffs and pouts like a child. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I am just being honest” you pat him on the back with mock sympathy.

“Well your honesty hurts. Strawberries are the best thing in the world” he continues to pout as you walk to the shaved ice place

“Do you feel this strongly about anything else in your life Taehyung?” 

“No. My grandparents own a strawberry farm and I grew up eating strawberries. So, I am highly biased towards them” 

You nod in understanding because it makes sense why he would violently hold so much love for strawberries. “Mrs.K never mentioned that” 

“I think she’s embarrassed by it,” he shrugs. “Or maybe it just never came up” 

You round the corner and arrive in front of the shaved ice shop. Taehyung once again opens the door for you. 

“You have to stop doing this” you mumble as you step in first. 

“Why?” his brows crinkle as he enters after you, gently placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you through the sea of people

“People will think we are actually together” 

“So?” he shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “I thought you didn’t care what people think” 

You regard him as you stand in line to order, forced to think about your perception. “Actually. Yeah I don’t care” you say firmly because it shouldn’t matter what people think. 

“I don’t see the point of living my life on others’ terms” he says with a serious face. 

“That’s fair” you reply. He’s right. You shouldn’t care what people think and the confidence with which he says it makes you question all the times in your life you have let others get to you. 

“So” he turns to look at the giant board on the wall behind the cash register displaying the different flavours. “I assume it’s Tropical Mango shaved ice for you” 

You pout as you think. “You know what, I’ll give the strawberry a try”

His eyes widen allowing a sparkle to reflect in his eyes. “Really?” 

You nod. In response his smile grows wider and wider until he’s positively beaming. Your turn to order arrives fairly quickly and Taehyung places the order. You don’t pay attention though because you are enraptured by the way light reflects on his face and makes his sun kissed skin look even more golden. You get entrapped by his voice which sends shivers down your spine yet is somehow comforting.

Of course when you say you can split the bill he violently shakes his head and refuses to let you pay. You take your number and find a seat at the corner after he ushers you the table and excuses himself to use the washroom. You pull out your phone now that you have some time and send a text to V. He’s been in the back of your mind all day long. 

Bananamilk: Hey V, did you reach safely? 

Almost instantly you receive a reply which makes your heart pound hard against your chest.. 

Icedtea: Yes I did. I am so sorry I couldn’t message earlier. My mom kind of ditched me. But I made a new friend because of it! 

A smile unconsciously squeezes its way onto your lips despite your efforts not to.

Bananamilk: that’s great! I hope you’re having fun 

Icedtea: I am. She’s great 😊 

Bananamilk: Oh it’s a girl 

Even your message itself sounds jealous of this girl. He’ll obviously catch it. 

Icedtea: Is someone jealous? 

Bananamilk: I am not jealous. I just made a comment

Icedtea: Sure. Whatever you say m’lady ;)

Bananamilk: V! I am not jealous. I am happy you made a new friend. I also made a new friend and he’s awesome. 

Icedtea: 🤔 is he more handsome than I am? 

Bananamilk: I don’t even know what you look like

Icedtea: yes you do 

Bananamilk: can’t really see your face in the pictures 

Icedtea: you’ll see it soon enough. One day. 

Bananamilk: if your face is anything like your personality, I am sure you are beautiful 

Icedtea: you really know how to stroke a mans’ ego

Bananamilk: don’t let it get to you

Icedtea: Don’t change the subject m’lady. 

Bananamilk: you changed the subject V

Icedtea: are you having a good time with your new friend? 

Bananamilk: he’s a really nice guy. You know strangely enough he reminds me of you

Icedtea: Oh really? That’s good then. At least you will remember me when you’re with him. Works for me! 

Bananamilk: shut up. 

Icedtea: I am sure you’re blushing right now

He’s not wrong. A soft heat starts building under your cheeks and then it violently flares into a red that covers your face. You can feel the heat settling in, emanating from your skin. 

Bananamilk: I’ll have to remind myself to not pay you compliments again 

Icedtea: That just tells me you’re actually blushing. 

Bananamilk: Oh god. Why are you so fixated on it? 

Icedtea: I like the idea of you blushing because of me 

Bananamilk: 🙄

Icedtea: How cute 

Bananamilk: Aren’t you supposed to be with your friend? Emphasis on the friend 

Icedtea: I knew you were jealous! But yes she’s waiting for me so I should probably go. Talk to you later?

Bananamilk: If you stop being weird I’ll talk to you 

Icedtea: Haha okay. I’ll talk to you later m’lady 🤗

Bananamilk: Talk to you later V 🤗

With that last text sent you already feel the anticipation building for when you get to talk to him next. It baffles you as the recognition crosses your mind and you become aware of your own feelings. 

Before you can further dwell on it Kim Taehyung approaches your table and takes the seat in front of you. 

“You’re red like a tomato” he remarks, a curious look crossing his face. 

“I am what?” you touch your cheeks. 

“Red. Completely and absolutely red” he repeats. 

“I just feel like it’s hot in here” you fan your face avoiding his gaze. 

“Like I said you’re a complete mystery” he replies. You assume because of the lack of context he finds you are hiding something which seems fair enough. 

“About that” you stop your ministrations and find the courage to look at him. “Ask me whatever you like” 

“That’s very vague” 

“Fine. I’ll tell you myself. I grew up in LA. Lived there until two years ago and then moved here to San Francisco. Then somehow by luck I ended up getting a job at Misim and now I am here, sitting in front of you” 

“Shut up” his jaw drops. “You grew up in LA too?” 

“You grew up in LA?” you repeat back, feeling curious. 

“I did. I lived there until about eighteen and then we moved here to San Fran. My mom then founded Misim and she initially wanted me to run the company but I have no interest in that side of things. So I moved to New York after high school and got a full scholarship to Columbia” he grabs a glass and pours water and slides it towards you and then pours himself one and takes a sip. 

“ You went to Columbia?” you gawk at him. 

“That hard to believe huh?” he chuckles 

“No. It’s not that. I don’t know anyone who went there and that too on full scholarship. What did you study at Columbia?” 

“Business marketing” he quips, taking another sip of water. 

“Wow” you nod slowly, filled with acknowledgement that he’s not only got beauty but he’s also got the brains. More than that though it’s the recognition that he’s a whole package which is slowly settling its roots in you. He’s got the personality to go with it. It’s the awareness that the more you talk to him the more he piques your interest and the more you want to know. “Why business marketing?” 

“I am a nerd that’s why” his lips flutter open ever so softly in a smile. 

“A self-proclaimed nerd. Wow. I like it. What else makes you a nerd?” you chuckle. 

“I love art, travelling, learning about anything I can get my hands on. If you think about it, we can learn from anyone and anything. You just have to have that mindset” 

“Where have you travelled to?” 

“I went to Bali a few months ago. Before that I was in Italy and then Peru and right after highschool I went to Morocco” 

“That’s amazing! I’ve always wanted to travel” you say, feeling slightly disappointed at not having had the opportunity to go where you have always wanted to. 

“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere” 

“But” you sigh. “I never had the time. Not to mention it’s an expensive habit” 

“I’ll take you. Wherever you want to go” he replies

“You’ll take me?” you narrow your eyes at him warily. 

“I will” he shrugs. 

“You don’t even know me” 

“Something tells me miss y/n, we’ll be seeing each other a lot. So I’ll get to know you and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go”

“What gives you that idea?” you lean in slightly intrigued by his confidence. 

“What would you say if I asked you right now that there is somewhere I want to take you and that if you’re free next weekend I would love to show you” he asks exuding a kind of confidence you have never felt yourself subjected to before. 

Would you say no? No. 

Will you take the time to pretend like you’re thinking so you don’t come off as eager? Yes. 

So after a moment of acting like you’re mulling it over, you reply. “I would say that I would love to go with you next Saturday” 

“See?I told you we will be seeing each other”

“How did you know I would say yes? You wouldn’t have been that confident if you didn’t know Kim Taehyung” 

“Because there’s something here even though I don’t know about the prospect of us” he points between you and him. “I know you feel it too” 

“Hmm” you nod, unable to deny that there is something between the two of you and also unable to form words because you can’t get into details of it. 

“Here’s your half mango and half strawberry shaved ice” you are distracted by the girl who had taken your order. She sets the huge bowl down, one side furiously pink and filled with strawberries while the other a deep yellow and topped with mangoes. 

“You ordered half and half?” you blink at Taehyung. It leaves you feeling a little touched because you find the gesture considerate. You haven’t encountered people in your life who are thoughtful like he is. 

This is when it dawns on you— a simple yet complex realization. You like V and you are attracted to Taehyung. Two days ago you didn’t have time nor the intention of getting involved in the matters of the heart. Yet two days later you are sitting in front of a man that makes you feel like you matter even though you have known him for less than an hour. And here you are also waiting for texts from a guy who is faceless yet he makes you feel like you could float on clouds. 

It’s funny how it’s so easy to catch feelings. One look, one word, a simple action, one kind gesture can kickstart the hurricane of absolutely confusing emotions.

You’re thoroughly fucked aren’t you? 

“I thought if you were willing to forgo your hatred for strawberries, which I still take offense to by the way. I thought the least I could do was order your favorite and try it myself too” he offers you a spoon. 

You let your gaze linger a little bit longer on his sparkling eyes, before you take the spoon from him and dig in. You take a bite and he watches in anticipation as you slowly savour the flavour. 

“The verdict is….” he trails off. 

Your lips protrude in a pout. “Well… it’s not as bad as I previously said” 

“Yes!” he curls his fingers into his a fist and fist bumps the air. “So does it move up the list?” he wags his brows playfully. 

“One spot” you scoop some shaved ice in your mouth. 

“That’s an improvement.” he laughs softly and takes a bite of the mango flavour on his side. 

You watch as he slowly nods. You feel nervous because you want him to like it. He still hasn’t said a word and he’s sitting there with a kind of dazed look on his face. 

“Taehyung?” you wave your hand in front of his face. “Are you okay?” 

He sort of shudders and blinks up at you. “Brain freeze I think” 

You chuckle at the cuteness that is Kim Taehyung. When he’s sitting this close to you in good lighting you really do get to take a good look at him. His features are very soft-- his eyes the softest of them all. His cheeks are full and you just wish you could squeeze them. 

He has a warm personality, one that makes you feel like you are surrounded by the light of a thousand suns. His energy is bright and infectious and he’s insanely confident in himself which is what you can’t get enough of. 

You blink away from your entranced state at being subjected to a very intense look by him. “S-sorry. Uhh.. do you like it?” you try to change the subject feeling slightly embarrassed at having been caught staring. 

His gaze lingers on you for a second more before he’s breaking out into a knowing grin. You know he’s aware you were staring at him. But he just smiles about it, doesn’t try to call you out, and smoothly changes the subject “It’s good. But I am always going to be a strawberries man” 

You giggle at the comment. 

“I promise I am going to make you love strawberries” he quips, reaching over to your side of the bowl and putting a spoonful of strawberries in his mouth. “See, this is what happiness tastes like” his voice is muffled by all the strawberries in his mouth. 

“I think I am starting to like them already” your mouth falters into a grin as you watch the man in front of you filled with a sense of warmth. 

At your mild mannered compliment Taehyung’s grin stretches wide across his face, eyes disappearing into crescents. 

That night after Taehyung drops you home, you are greeted by a wide awake Nina, sitting in her PJ’s violently flipping through the channels. As soon as you enter, she jumps from her spot and runs over to you. 

“Who was the extremely handsome guy who dropped you off?” she tugs your arm and leads you to the couch where she makes you sit down. She takes your purse and haphazardly throws it on the loveseat, fixing her attention to you. She looks at you in anticipation, and you can see the excitement in the way she’s leaning in, and her brows are raised and she’s tapping her foot on the floor impatiently. 

“That’s my boss’s son. Taehyung” you supply

“He’s hot y/n. Like super hot. Can you get me his number please?” 

“What? No!” you shuffle back a little. 

“Why?!” she whines. 

“Because he’s my boss’s son” you avoid looking at her. You can feel her eyes on you, studying you carefully. The silence weighs heavy on your ears and despite the urge to break it and say something, you choose to remain quiet too. 

“You like him” she states matter-of-factly. 

“What the fuck! No” you vigorously shake your head. 

“You can’t lie cousin. You suck at it. You like this guy. I saw you. You were smiling like a whipped idiot when you were saying bye to him. I was right there” she points to the large window by the front door now curtained. “Dare I say, I think you guys were flirting” 

“No we were not” you say firmly

“If it helps, I think he’s into you too” she shrugs

“You think so?” it comes out lightning quick which makes Nina raise her brows curiously. 

“That gets a reaction from you. And you’re telling me you don’t like him. Look at how eager you are to get my opinion on it. You want to talk about this and you know it” she clicks her tongue and pouts at you. 

“Maybe I find him a teeny tiny bit attractive. But that doesn’t mean I like him” you huff, trying your hardest to pretend that the insinuation offends you but she sees right through you. 

“It’s all the same y/n. Go out with him. Ask him” 

“Uhhh… he kinda already asked me to go somewhere with him next weekend and I agreed to it” you mumble the last part quietly and Nina has to lean in to catch what you said.

“Wow. Miss I-don’t-like-him has a date and yet refuses to acknowledge she likes him.” 

“It’s not a date!” you say defensively. “It’s just a friendly hangout. 

“Right” she shakes her head. “Just a friendly hang out” she uses air quotes. “What are you, five?” 

“Ughh. Whatever. Stop being so obsessed with my love life” you lean against the back of the couch, rubbing your temples. 

Your phone buzzes and Nina reaches across into your purse and pulls it out. You watch her brows rise and mouth open as she reads whatever is on the screen. “Uhhh lover boys have messaged you” she holds the phone up for you to see one message from Taehyung and one from V both showing up on your notifications one under the other. 

“Fuck” you mutter as you take it from her. 

“Yeah you are fucked cousin. Two hotties and you. Now that’s what I am talking about” she winks in a suggestive and sleazy manner. 

“Nina!” you chide. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Please” 

“Okay fine” she sighs. “What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know. I am attracted to them both” you mumble sheepishly hiding your face behind your hands out of embarrassment. 

“Who do you like more though?” 

“They’re both so sweet. V makes my heart flutter and he makes me smile in a way no one does. I feel like I have known him forever. He just gets me in a way no one does. But Taehyung makes me curious. He excites me. He makes me want to be seventeen again”

“That’s tough” she pats you on the shoulder sympathetically. “You know you can’t have both right?” 

For the first time Nina has said something right. It takes you by surprise but you don’t have the energy to dwell on the sudden show of maturity. “I know” you groan. 

“Well I’ll let you sit with this” she offers her usual pursed lip, uninterested smile. “I am going to sleep” she stifles a yawn. 

You roll your eyes. “Yeah great. I’ll just agonize over this while you sleep” 

“Sorry cousin. I need my beauty sleep. Besides I doubt I’ll be of much help” she gets up with a groan and stretches her hands over her head, and drags her feet over the floor as per usual. 

“You’re never any help” you mutter, diving face down onto the couch. 

You grab your phone, the light blinding you as you scrunch your eyes to stop it from hurting. Once you adjust to it you open the message from Taehyung: 

I had a really fun time today. Can’t wait to see you again on Saturday. Good night y/n :) 💤 

You scroll the notification banner down and click on V’s message. 

Icedtea: I am sorry we weren’t able to talk a whole lot. I got busy with the friend I told you about. I promise we’ll catch up tomorrow. Good night 😴 

You turn on your back, staring blankly at the ceiling. There isn’t going to be any sleep tonight. 

Yeah you’re thoroughly fucked. 

Absolutely. Utterly. Completely. Screwed. 

On Friday morning Mrs. K calls you early to tell you that you don’t need to go into work. She leaves a long winded voice message about how Taehyung told her about taking you out on Saturday and she doesn’t want you to be tired for the day. So she just wants you to rest up and is giving you the day off. 

That comes as a respite because a day off is exactly what you need. You have too much on your mind between V and Taehyung. Feelings are exhausting in general. But when you’re like a pendulum swinging from one boy to the other it’s ten times more excruciating to deal with. 

You lounge around the whole day, not wanting to do anything because you know that Saturday is coming soon. The anxiety in itself is enough to render you useless for the rest of the day. It’s worse since Nina isn’t home. If she were there she would have already dragged you out someplace against your will and forced you to eat some kind of eclectic food you probably wouldn’t even want in the first place. 

That’s exactly what you need— a huge distraction from your even bigger problem of having fallen two guys at the same time. People have a hard enough time dealing with one, but your destiny has blessed you with dealing with emotions for two men who you feel thoroughly incapable of choosing between. 

As if on cue your phone chimes and you pick it up lazily already having an inkling as to who it will be. 

Icedtea:  Hey! what are you upto?

“Wallowing in my misery” you grumble as you stare at the message but begin typing the exact opposite. 

Bananamilk: I am doing...amazing! 

An instant reply arrives bringing with a pang of nervousness in your chest. 

Icedtea: No one says they’re doing amazing unless they are going through something horrible. What are you going through?

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, your thoughts on pause as you read the message. He can’t see you, he doesn’t even know you all that well. For fucks sake he’s texting you. 

Bananamilk: that’s creepy V. But spot on. I am going through something

Icedtea: Wanna talk about it? 

“Not with you because you’re part of the reason I feel this way” you sigh as you speak to the screen like he can hear you or see you through it. 

Bananamilk: I’ll be alright. I’ll survive 😊

Icedtea: Alright. But you know if you want to talk about it I am just a text away. 

Bananamilk: Yes I know :) Thank you. Onto happier subjects. How did your day with your friend go? 

Icedtea: It was a lot of fun. I am seeing her again soon. How was yours with your friend? 

Bananamilk: I had fun too. But I am so tired

Icedtea: I know what will help. Give me a sec 

The three ellipses show that he’s typing so you patiently wait. Not too patiently though because as you cross the five second mark the suspense starts to get the best of you and you sit up in your bed tapping your fingers impatiently against the back of the phone. 

Icedtea has shared a link. 

You open it to find a link to Spotify and clicking the link transports you to the music app. 

A notification banner pops up on your screen with the following message: 

Icedtea: I made that playlist for you. 

Giddily you click on it to reply. 

Bananamilk: you made a playlist for me? 

Icedtea: Yeah. I was listening to music and then I remembered you told me you like Tchaikovsky so I made it for you with all his pieces. I hope it helps you get through whatever you’re going through 

Bananamilk: Oh my god I love you V ❤️

You smile as you read the message and then it melts into panic.

“Fuck” your eyes widen as the words glare back at you blindingly  bright. It’s as if you acquire tunnel vision and all you can fixate on is ‘I love you V’. “Shit. Fuck.” the sense of urgency gets the best of you as you jump out of your bed and proceed to scream and yell until you’ve almost pulled your hair out. 

“I heard yelling” Nina pops her head into your room. 

“That was me” you mumble . “Wait I thought you weren’t home” 

“I’ve been in my room and I am stealthy like a vampire so you didn’t know I was home. What happened?” she approaches you and sits down next to you on the floor. 

“I told V I love him” you groan

With a lack of response  you are prompted to focus on her only to find her looking at you with a raised brow. 

“What?” you snap

“That fast huh. I thought you would hold out until he’s on the verge of ending it because your righteousness gets in the way of it” 

“It was a fucking mistake” you grab one of her hands and thrust your phone into her palm. 

She looks over the messages and then hands you your phone which you slide away against the floor because you can’t even look at it. “He made you a playlist and you told him you love him?” she snorts in a judgemental way. 

“No one has ever made me a playlist okay!? you say defensively and shoot her a disapproving look. 

“Just tell him it’s because you feel thankful or whatever emotional shit you can come up with,” she replies with a casual tone, not as freaked out as you. But then again she’s always calm about everything. 

“I would but he hasn’t said anything” you point to the phone. 

“Relax. The world hasn’t ended cousin” 

“You’re not helping Nina!” you snap at her, unintentionally taking your frustration out on her. 

Your phone buzzes and you crawl across the floor, and reach for it. 

Icedtea: It’s not a problem . Anytime 💕

You immediately sit on your knees and scoot back until you’re sitting next to Nina. 

“I don’t know what this means” you hold the phone out to her. 

She scoffs. “I thought I wasn’t of any help,” she says bitterly. 

“This isn’t the time to be vengeful, Nina” you remind her gently. 

She snatches the phone so she can take a lot at it. “He sent a heart.  Coming from a guy that’s as good as ‘I love you too’” she lazily holds your phone to you. 

You take it from her. “So what should I say” you bite your lip.

“Just tell him you’re thankful for the playlist and move on” 

“Easier said than done” you turn focus back to the device in your hand and begin furiously typing while Nina quietly slips away but you don’t have time to address that. 

Bananamilk: sorry I got a little excited because no one has ever made a playlist for me before. Thank you very much V. I really appreciate it and I do feel better because of it. 

Icedtea: I am glad to hear that. Happy I could be of some help. 

It’s help that’s going to push you further into the rabbit hole of your feelings for him and complicate things even more. How can you like two guys without feeling like you’re not some cheater bitch? It’s not like you are in a relationship with either of them. However, feeling things for V when you’re talking to him and then feeling things when you’re with Taehyung makes you feel guilty and apologetic as fuck. 

You quickly make an excuse to get out of talking to V because you can’t get your mind out of this spiral you are falling into. There is only one thing to do. So you force yourself to get up and trudge out of your room and into the land of the living. 

“Hey” you address your cousin who is in the kitchen surely fixing up food. 

“Yes” she quips, still sounding a little mad because she’s got that bite to her tone. 

“I am sorry for how I reacted earlier. I was panicking and you were next to me and I am sorry I put it on you” 

She looks over her shoulder at you. “No harm done cousin. But you look fucked” 

“I suppose what I am feeling shows on my face huh” 

“You don’t have to be screwed over just because you like two guys at the same time. It’s a perfectly normal thing. Eventually you will gravitate towards one more than the other. Until then just go with the flow of things and don’t over analyze shit” 

You let her words sink in. They actually make sense, and this is the second time in the past few days she’s given you the right advice. “You need help?” you enter the kitchen further and stop next to her offering to help as a show of your gratitude.

“It’s just ramen” she shrugs. “You want some?” she asks as she licks the sauce off her finger. 

You nod. “Thanks Nina. For everything” you rest your head on her shoulder. 

“I know what will cheer you up” she says and then ushers you out of the kitchen. “Go sit down, grab a blanket put on netflix and we’ll watch the Witcher and then Man of Steel. There’s nothing a little Henry Cavill marathon can’t fix” 

You do as she says and grab a blanket out of the closet and cozy up on the sofa. You turn on the TV and put on netflix, immediately searching for the Witcher. The moment Henry Cavill’s devilishly handsome face pops up on the screen you start feeling better. You put on the first episode of the Witcher, immediately transfixed Henry’s beauty. Just what was God doing when she made him? How can someone look that good? 

With these thoughts swirling in your head, you immerse yourself further into the fantasy world that captures your full attention. So much so that you don’t notice Nina sitting next to you and obnoxiously chewing on the noodles. 

You end up spending the rest of the day cuddled on the couch with her watching the Witcher and every Henry Cavill movie Netflix has in its catalogue. For a while you forget your troubles and just enjoy being a normal human being except you have an obsession with one Henry Cavill. 

At 11 am sharp on Saturday a honk resounds through the air sending you into a state of panic. 

“He’s here!” Nina yells as you stumble out of your room and run down the stairs. “Holy fuck he’s so hot” she says dreamily as she spies on him through the curtains of the window next to the front door. 

“Stop ogling at him and help me find my fucking shoes” you say in a hurry as you grab your tiny bag and sling it across your body. 

“They are by the door” she says without taking her eyes off Taehyung. 

You put on your white shoes and dash out of the door, not even saying bye to your cousin. But you doubt she cares. 

Outside Kim Taehyung is leaning against his car, the bright sun reflecting off his sun kissed skin. The sound of your shoes grating against the gravel alerts him and he looks up to greet you with a smile. 

“You look good” the compliment falls smoothly through his lips and settles deep inside your heart. He pushes away from the car and holds out his arms for a hug. You cave in and wrap your arms around his much larger frame. His whole body envelops yours, a fact that leaves you feeling delighted as you bask in Kim Taehyung’s warmth. He squeezes once more before he lets go and you both pull away. 

“You look good yourself” your lips split in a wide smile as you take in his form. He’s wearing a white mock neck, tucked into black jeans the rims of which are folded on top of his black doc martens. The whole look is tied in together with a blue denim jacket. The boyfriend vibes he’s serving are real and you can’t help but feel like his girlfriend, even though you’re not. 

You catch yourself in time because before that train of thought can catch speed and run out of your control, you nip it. “So where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise” he opens the door for you like the gentleman he is. 

“I am never getting used to this” you look at him as you pass him and sit in. 

“Well get used to it because I am going to be doing this a lot” he says before he shuts the door softly and runs around quickly and straps himself into the driver’s seat. 

“So you’re absolutely not going to tell me where we’re going?” you ask as he starts the ignition and begins to back out of the driveway. 

“Nope” he shakes his head as he focuses on reversing, looking around in all directions.

Once you’re on the road, he reaches into the back seat and hauls up a bag which he holds out to you. 

“What’s in here?” you ask, taking the white plastic bag from him. 

“Snacks” he glances at you. “It’ll take us about two hours to get there. I thought you might get hungry” 

“Are you taking me to some isolated place to kill me?” you tease, a grin making its way onto your face as you look at him. 

He keeps his focus ahead. “Did we not determine that I am not a psycho?” 

“No. You said you listen to classical music and that’s most definitely a sign you’re a serial killer” you remind him, tearing your gaze away to rummage through the bag sitting in your lap. 

“You are a pepper spray carrier. I wouldn’t worry about it” he replies, a soft chuckle falling through his mouth. 

“Wow you got a lot of stuff” you look through the bag. 

“I got a whole row of stuff from the convenience store” he shrugs as if that is some common occurrence. 

“Did you just say a whole row?” you gawk at him stupidly, blinking in disbelief. 

“Yeah” he says casually. He glimpses at you for a second and chuckles at your reaction. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got whatever I could” 

“How thoughtful” you comment. 

“Thank you. I should have warned you that we might have to get down and dirty, where we’re going” 

“Oh now you have to tell me Kim Taehyung” you turn to him. 

“I can’t. It’s a surprise” he deflects.

You groan which makes him laugh silently,  his shoulders shaking as teeth peeking from behind his lips. “I take it you’re not a fan of surprises?” 

“No. Not at all” you shake your head. “I was wondering…” you trail off keeping your gaze affixed on his profile. 

He turns to you quickly. “What were you wondering?” 

“That day you were very smooth when you asked me to come with you. So, I was just wondering if this is a date” 

“Do you want it to be a date?” he takes a peek at you. 

“Did you intend for it to be a date?” you counter, 

He huffs a soft laugh through his nose and bites his lip. “You caught me y/n” 

You don’t know where this boldness is coming from. But you’re taking Nina’s advice to heart and letting things play out organically instead of trying to control them. “So then, should I assume you like me?” 

He’s silent as he chews on his lower lip like he really has to think about it. Usually it's an automatic response but the fact that he’s taking time makes you think there is something there, just under the surface that’s bothering him. The longer he takes the worse the anxiety gets “Yes” the word leaves a whisper through his mouth. “I like you” 

You’re silent. He’s silent. You can feel the weight, weighing heavy on your shoulders. 

“Since I have made the admission. I have to ask” he pauses. “Should I take it you like me too since you decided to come with me?” 

He’s smooth. He’s very good at using words.

 You like him. But it’s hard to give a quick response because you also like V. So admitting your attraction to Taehyung seems like you’re playing V even though it’s not your intention. 

“Yeah” you reply quietly remembering that Nina told you not to ‘overanalyze shit” 

Taehyung steals a glance at your face, then his eyes travel to your hand that’s resting on your lap. He reaches over and extends his hand and quietly laces his fingers into yours. You succumb to his touch and curl your fingers over the back of his hand, a gesture that makes him look at you with a knowing smile-- one that speaks volumes about his feelings for you. You look from your now less lonely hand to him and a small smile curves on your lips

For the rest of the ride neither of you say a word, and sit quietly hand in hand basking in this newfound feeling. 

“Y/n”

You feel a shake 

“Y/n” 

Someone is definitely saying your name. But who? 

“Y/n” comes the voice again and you jolt awake 

“What?” you say slightly panicked as you look to your left, to find Taehyung. Oh right. You’re going somewhere with him. 

“We’re here” he says. 

You blink away the sleep that weighs heavy in your eyes. “Where is here?” 

“ My grandparents strawberry farm in Sonoma” 

And then sleep vanishes. “What!?” you are wide awake as soon you comprehend his words and unconsciously squeeze his hand. 

He chuckles. “I love it when you get all surprised. It’s all very adorable” he says fondly, eyes sparkling, and smile teetering at the edge of his lips. “It’s also adorable that you fell asleep holding onto my hand” 

You look down and find your hand still locked securely into his. 

“As much as I love holding your hand, it feels kind of numb” he comments, looking at you with pursed lips. 

It takes a second for you to understand what he means as you blink rapidly. Clearly your brain is still a little foggy from the nap. “Oh shit. Yeah. Sorry” you pull your fingers out from his, and he uses his now free hand to unbuckle his seat belt

“Wait” he says and steps out of the car. He comes to your side and opens the door for you and holds out his hand. He really did mean it when he said you should get used to it. A cool draft of air hits you as soon as the door opens and you welcome the relief because your body feels hot all over. 

“Why didn't you tell me you’re bringing me here?” you ask as you place your hand in his and with a gentle pull he manages to help you. He closes the door but keeps a hold on your hand, sliding his palm in yours. 

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise” you walk hand in hand. 

“True. But your grandparents farm? Isn’t it a little weird? I mean I am not even your girlfriend which is who you usually bring to places like this” 

“As far as they know, you are. ” he shrugs. 

“I am?

“Yes you are. I told them you are . You are my girlfriend as far as anyone in this little town is concerned ” he squeezes your hand and swings your interlocked hands. 

“Wow. I just got demoted from wife to girlfriend. Are you cheating on me Kim Taehyung?” you laugh lightly, but it falters when you realize you shouldn’t use the word ‘cheating’ so lightly given your predicament between Taehyung and V. 

He however doesn’t respond in the same way. If anything the smile and liveliness of his face morphs into a solemn expression as his lips pull into a straight line. He lowers his head, blinking profusely. He looks slightly uncomfortable, a vacant look appearing in his eyes and his hold on your hand slackens which makes your heart sink. He doesn’t let go but clearly something has changed. 

“Are you alright?” you question 

A look of realization crosses his face and the distant look in his eyes disappears replaced by the usual amount of warmth you are used to. “Yeah” he squeezes your hand. “Just thinking about something. Sorry” 

“It’s okay” you reassure him. 

You let a few seconds of silence pass before you speak. “So what exactly are we doing here?” 

“Picking strawberries” he smiles from ear to ear clearly excited at the prospect of getting to eat strawberries to his heart's content. “I promised I would get you to love strawberries and here we are” 

“You have a very weird obsession with this particular fruit” 

“Hey don’t judge” he pouts. “Girlfriend’s aren’t supposed to be judgemental” 

“But” you pause. “I am not really your girlfriend” 

“Today you are” he grins and motions to your hands which are still held together. 

It turns out Taehyung was right when he said you would have to get down and dirty. There’s soil marks over your white shoes, and you have been kneeling down trying to pick out as many strawberries as possible because Taehyung decided that an impromptu competition would be a good way to keep things interesting. His grandparents being the sweet people they are let you two be and left to work on ploughing the fields somewhere else. 

You don't know how you got roped into it but you know that you could never say no to Taehyung. If he told you to jump from a building asking you to trust him, you would do so. If he asked you the one thing you absolutely hated: get on an airplane and fly to an unknown destination you wouldn’t even hesitate for a second. You have known him for only a week but you’ve learned enough to be able to put your faith in him. But it feels like you’ve known him forever too. Like you know him from somewhere else but you just can’t remember. 

Too distracted by your thoughts you don’t notice Taehyung taking strawberries out of your basket. It’s only after he’s taken out a handful that you realize it. “Hey! That’s cheating” you have to yell because he’s already on the run. “Kim Taehyung you are dead” you chase after him in the fields which is definitely not a good idea for several reasons. One, the sun is high up in the sky and getting in your eyes so you can’t see clearly where you are going. Second, you’re getting dirt all over your shoes and the hems of your jeans which are the best pair you own. Third Taehyung is taller than you and hence his strides are longer so you’ll never be able to catch him. Fourth, not having any food in you is the worst time to run so you start feeling a little dizzy. 

You stop to take a breather and Taehyung, noticing a stoppage in your shouts, turns around to find you bent over. He runs to you quickly. 

“Are you okay?” he sets down the basket of strawberries and strokes your back. 

“Yeah. I just need food” you pant heavily and straighten up.

“Food you say” Taehyung raises his eyebrows suggestively. “I have just the perfect thing” 

“You are the worst fake boyfriend ever” you gripe as you walk hand in hand with him to the convenience store which happens to be four blocks away. On an empty stomach and running on nothing but fumes four blocks easily seems like forty. 

“You feel that way now. But just you wait. I’ll make you something so amazing you’ll kiss me for it” he says confidently. 

“Kiss you? Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves” you quip, trying to slow down the pace of where he’s headed. If this were a normal situation you wouldn’t worry. But you have to think about V too. Yes you want things to happen organically but at the same time you need to uphold yourself to your personal standards for morality. And it won’t be right to kiss Taehyung when you feel something for someone else out there too. 

“You’re right” he shakes his head. “Correction. I’ll make you something so amazing you will love me for it” 

“Don’t get all cocky Kim” you reply with a grin. 

The convenience store comes into site and you both speed up as you practically run towards it. You enter the small store and to your right standing behind a cash register is an older man writing something in a notebook. 

 Taehyung greets the man. “Hello Mr. Jung” 

He looks up and a look of recognition crosses his face “Oh Taehyung! It’s nice to see you after so long” 

“It’s very nice to see you too” Taehyung smiles at the older man. 

Mr. Jung looks at you and offers a polite nod, and you reply with a small ‘hello’. 

“Sorry Mr. Jung. I forgot. This is my girlfriend y/n” Taehyung looks at Mr. Jung, a proud smile resting on his lips. 

The way he says ’girlfriend’ makes you want to rip your insides out and stop feeling because it’s too overwhelming. Despite your admittance that you like each other, it’s not like you’ve decided to do anything about it. So technically he’s not your boyfriend and you aren’t his girlfriend and you have to keep reminding yourself that this all for show. 

“Hello y/n. Pleasure to meet you” Mr. Jung says.

“Nice to meet you too Mr. Jung” you respond 

“Hey if he bothers you, you come to me. I will set him straight” Mr. Jung laughs. 

“He bothers me a lot” you complain, pouting. 

“Hey!” Taehyung’s jaw drops in disbelief. “You’re not supposed to tattle on me” 

“You better treat her nice, boy” Mr Jung says in a stern but playful tone. 

“Of course I will! She deserves to be treated like a queen even though she rats me out” this time Taehyung’s lips jut out in a pout. “That reminds me. I am looking for bread and that special sweet cream Mrs. Jung makes” 

“Ah!” Mr Jung’s expression changes to that of realization as soon as Taehyung mentions sweet cream. “The bread should in the last aisle and the sweet cream should be in the refrigerator at the back”

“Thanks Mr. Jung” Taehyung says and walks towards the aisle where he grabs a loaf of bread and tucks it under his arm because he’s still holding your hand and only has his other hand free. 

“Do you maybe want to let go so that we can comfortably shop?” you suggest noticing him having a hard time holding the bread without squashing it to a mush. 

He shakes his head. “No thank you. I like holding your hand” he says firmly. 

You give up quickly, realizing that he won't let go. So you shop around like that-- hand in hand, and a loaf of bread tucked under Taehyung’s arm. From far away you would look like a couple, an awareness which makes your face overcome with a slight crimson flush. 

“Hey do you mind grabbing the sweet cream” Taehyung points to the stacked white, unlabeled containers in the fridge. 

You manage to open the door, but have to hold it open with your foot because your other hand is occupied by Taehyungs. It’s a minor inconvenience which you don't mind. You grab the container and lift your foot against the door and it shuts. “Why are we buying bread and cream?” 

“It’s a secret” he winks 

“You and your surprises” you shake your head at him. 

“I promise you, you will love it” he leads out of the back and to the front where Mr. Jung is. 

Taehyung places the bread and you put the sweet cream on the counter. For the first time he let’s go of your hand to take out his wallet from his back pocket. 

“Don’t worry about Taehyung. This one is on me” Mr Jung smiles at both of you when he sees Taehyung’s wallet.

“Are you sure?” you quip 

“Yeah Yeah” he waves your concern off. “I have known the Kim’s for the better part of forty years. We’re like a family” he takes out a brown paper bag and places both the bread and sweet cream in there and hands you the bag. 

“Thank you Mr. Jung” Taehyung grins up at the older man and nods as both of you leave. Once you are out of the store, Taehyung takes the bag from you and reaches down to grab your hand in his, interlinking your fingers once again. 

Taehyung’s grandparents' farmhouse is ginormous. When you arrived he took you straight to the fields so you didn’t have time to come to the house. The moment it comes in sight you are awestruck at the grandiosity of it and you can’t close your mouth. You hear Taehyung chuckle beside you, no doubt at your reaction but you don’t acknowledge him because you just can't seem to tear your gaze away. 

“This was built in the early 1900’s. Been in the family for a few generations now” Taehyung comments. 

“Wow” you blink rapidly, trying to process the beauty of the house in front of you. 

“We had to renovate it a few years ago because there were  alot of structural issues and mold and whatnot. So it looks slightly different from the outside. But the inside is pretty much the same” 

“You must have spent a lot of time here when you were younger” you finally manage to look away, having had your fill of beauty. 

He nods. “I did. I came here every summer instead of staying in LA. I would spend all my time in the farms with my grandfather, helping him pick strawberries, planting new bushes after the harvest was done, cleaning up around the house and greasing the equipment.”

“Who knew you made an excellent farm boy” you grin at him teasingly, just imagining a kiddie version of the man next to you with his grubby hands helping his grandpa. 

“I am also an excellent chef, thank you very much” 

“We’ll see Mr. Kim” you allude back to your first day with him when you were mistaken for husband and wife.

“You will Mrs. Kim” he jokes and both of you end up laughing. 

Taehyung guides you inside the house holding you hand, through one hallway and then another and he turns again. You forget the way you came in because it’s so big inside. You don’t even have the time to appreciate the architecture (which is very reminiscent of the early 1900’s with crafty woodwork) because Taehyung is beelining straight to the kitchen. 

He sets the paper bag down on the counter. 

“This kitchen is the size of a small condo” you comment, doing a full 360 as you take in everything around you. . The cupboards are all shiny dark oakwood, and the counters are pure white marble. You run a finger on them and it’s the softest marble you have ever touched. His family is definitely loaded. Rich doesn’t even begin to define it.

“My grandma always wanted a huge kitchen. So during the renovations they ended up extending the kitchen and they added the huge cutting board on the countertop because my grandma hates having to wash and clean cutting boards” Taehyung says as he’s looking through the twenty different cupboards for something. 

“What are you going to make?” you ask entering further. 

“It’s something my grandpa used to make when I was younger. I haven’t had it in a very long time. I wanted to share it with you” Taehyung finds plates in one of the cabinets and brings them over to the counter, and sets them aside. 

“That’s sweet of you Taehyung” you reply as you lean your back against the counter. 

“It’s only because I like you” he chuckles. Before you can respond, he’s already on another subject. He makes it seem like such a casual thing. But then again he’s always been up front with you. “Y/n can you bring those strawberries over please?” he points to a huge mound of strawberries piled into a strainer next to the sink. 

You grab it  and bring it over to him. You stop next to him and steal a strawberry for yourself. “Wow these are good” your muffled voice comes out as you savour the sweet flavour. 

“These are the best strawberries you will ever have” Taehyung comments turning to you. He reaches up with his hand and wipes away the juice from the corner of your mouth. 

“Thanks” you mutter. Heat rises in your cheeks once more, and your hands begin to sweat a little from nervousness.

Taehyung takes out the bread and places the loaf on the large built-in cutting board on top of the kitchen counter. “With crust or without crust” he asks. 

“Without please” you say 

“I would have been horrified had you said you want the crust” 

“No one likes the crust. It’s an atrocity” 

“Exactly” Taehyung stacks bread pieces together and in one swoop motion cuts the crusts on one side and the rotates to cut the other side. Once all the disgusting brown stuff is off from the good white stuff, he slides the colander filled with strawberries over to himself. He starts drying them with a cloth and placing them on the cutting board. 

“Where are your grandparents?” you ask suddenly realizing that it's only you two and no one else is around. 

He continues to dry the strawberries as he speaks. “It’s Saturday so they’re probably gone to Mr. Lee’s house at this time. He’s my grandpa’s friend and their farmhouse is just a few blocks down. Everyone in this neighbourhood gathers together and meets at Mr. Lee’s house on the weekends and they play cards and things like that. It’s been like that since I was thirteen” a fond smile appears on his lips as he reminisces about the past. 

“That’s sweet.” 

“All the people in this neighbourhood are my grandparents' age so they all have similar interests” he explains as he places the dried strawberries on the cutting board. 

“Makes sense” you nod. “Do you want some help?” you ask because you feel bad. 

Taehyung looks up at you “Are you good at cutting strawberries?” he asks 

“I can do a good enough job” you reply with a shrug. 

“Grab a knife assistant” he grins and then shifts his focus to cutting the strawberries he had dried. 

You pull a knife out the knife stand next to you and stand quietly next to Taehyung cutting his precious strawberries. It’s silent, save for the sounds of the knives hitting the cutting board. Once he thinks you have enough slices he starts assembling his secret dish. 

He splits the slices of bread in half and places some in front of you. 

“All we’re going to do is spread the cream and place the strawberries and make a sandwich” 

“A strawberries and cream sandwich?” you question

“Not just your usual strawberries and cream sandwich. I’m gonna shallow fry it” he wags his brows, feeling proud of himself. 

“Can't say I’ve ever had that” 

“Get ready for the best-est sandwich ever. It tastes heavenly” he steps behind you and reaches over to place a pan on the stove. The close proximity makes your heart skip a beat. 

You both begin assembling your sandwiches working in silence. The domestic vibes really give you a hard time with concentration because all you can think about is how homely this feels. 

“This reminds me of my grandma and grandpa cooking together when I was younger” he takes the words right out of your mouth because this reminds you of your parents when you were younger.

“Oh the domesticity of it all” you laugh. 

“I like it” Taehyung says fondly, looking at you. 

 You feel his eyes on you and look up at him with a grin. “It’s growing on me too”

Taehyung wasn’t lying when he said it tastes heavenly because it does. Shallow frying the bread just makes it taste a hundred times better than it would have. After you finish devouring the sandwiches Taehyung realizes how late it is and decides that he should get you home. 

“It’s already 8 pm. I didn’t even realize we’d been here that long” 

“Me neither” you reply, finally realizing how much fun you were having with him. 

“Let me just check how long it would take to drive back because we have to take a different highway to get out of Sonoma” he pulls out his phone. You’re silent while he checks how to get home and you decide to look around your surroundings. The huge garden in the back of the property is something you were anticipating, but you just didn’t realize how big it would be. 

Sitting under the fairy lights on the porch definitely does something to make the ambiance feel slightly romantic. 

“Shit. There’s been a major accident on the highway out of the county” he looks at you. 

“So what do we do now?” you question, feeling slightly panicked because you don’t feel comfortable leaving Nina alone in the house for the night.

He shrugs. “I am not sure how long it will take them to clear it up” 

“Damn. It’s already eight and even if it’s done in the next hour or so it’ll be too late to drive out” 

“Right. But it seems like it’s going to take way longer than that because it’s two trailers and a few cars that crashed into each other” he holds his phone out to you. 

Going by the picture posted in the tabloid it does seem like it’s a very major accident. You silently hope everyone involved is okay. You hand him his phone back.

“I guess we have to stay over for the night. Is that okay with you?” he questions, a concerned frown plastered on his forehead. 

“It should be okay. I just have to call my cousin and make sure she will be alright for the night” 

“Sure” he replies and busies himself in looking around while you dial Nina

It rings and rings and rings and just when you’re about to hang up her voice comes through. “Yes asshole. How can I be of service to you” 

“Hello spawn of the Devil” you say into the phone, forgetting that Taehyung is sitting only 1 meter away. He stops looking around as he catches your words, shooting you a confused look. You respond with an apologetic smile.

“I thought you were with your boyfriend” Nina says in her usual teasing tone. 

It gets to you. “He’s not my boyf--” you say a little too loudly and glance at Taehyung  to find him looking at you with raised eyebrows.  You mouth a quick ‘sorry’ to him. “Anyway. I wanted to tell you that I won’t be home tonight and--” 

“Yes girl get it!” she yells so loud you’re sure that against the silence of the night Taehyung heard that. You wince when you notice he’s stifling his laughter. He heard it for sure. 

Idiot Nina.

“We can’t leave because there’s been an accident on the highway out of the county and that’s why I have to stay the night. Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yeah of course! Don’t worry about me. Just take this opportunity alright? Don’t let it go to waste. Who knows when you’ll get it. Make sweet sweet love to him” her voice is so loud you want to throw your phone away and jump into that pool nearby and drown in it. An aching burn alights your cheeks on fire.

Taehyung chuckles, clearly having heard Nina. 

“Shut up, idiot. Call me if anything happens. Not that anyone would try anything with you” you say into the phone, your objective of making sure she’ll be okay completed. You hang up not giving her a chance to speak and pass an apologetic look to Taehyung. “I am sorry if you heard all that” 

“I did” he nods, trying to stifle his laughter once more. “Your cousin sure is a character” he comments. 

“You’re not the first person to say that. She’s the child of the Devil” you shake your head. 

“So she’ll be okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. If anything our neighbours should be scared I am not there to keep her in check” 

He laughs. “Why do you call her the spawn of the devil? Just out of curiosity” 

You sigh. “You’ve already heard a snippet of the kinds of things that come out of her mouth. But she’s totally boy crazy and she always says the wrong things at the wrong time like she just did a few minutes ago. She always puts me in awkward situations like right now which is why I am sure she was born to make my life hell. Hence she is the spawn of the devil” 

“You’re cute y/n” Taehyung chuckles with a shake of his head 

“Thank you I guess” you take the compliment. “So what should we do now?” you quickly change the subject, not wanting to further dwell on Nina because if you do you’ll just keep thinking about what she said. 

“Fancy a swim?” he asks, turning to look at the mirage of blue into the distance. 

“Uhhh I can’t swim” you admit sheepishly, looking away. 

Taehyung’s mouth drops open. “What?” 

“Not everyone can swim okay?” you look at him and say defensively

He stands up and holds his hand out for you. You look at him and then his hand and shake your head. 

“Come on y/n. Be brave” 

“I am a coward. Just let me be a coward please” you look at him pleadingly. 

“I’ll go with you. I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me” 

You gulp hard and with a deep sigh place your hand in his as he leads you out to the pool. You stand at the edge while Taehyung without a warning jumps in, splashing you with water too. “You’re wet already now. Come on!” he says emerging from the water and smoothing his hair back, droplets dripping down his face and onto his chest. His shirt clings to his chest and arms, showing every contour of his body perfectly. 

“I am not even wearing proper swimming clothes” you try the excuse hoping it’ll get you off the hook. 

“I just jumped in wearing these jeans and my precious mock neck shirt. Be spontaneous y/n” he says, splashing water on you. 

Your hands come up to protect your face from the attack. “I am sort of scared” you mumble, slightly embarrassed at the admittance. 

“Do you trust me?” Taehyung asks as he takes a few steps forward until the water level lowers to his waist. He holds out his arms in the air as if to catch you. 

“I do” you mumble and step close to the edge of the pool while Taehyung moves forward and reaches for your hands. You place your hands in his and crouch down to the floor with his help and set one foot over the edge into the water and then the other. 

“Place your hands on my shoulder and jump in. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you” his voice is soft and tender, which helps calm you down slightly. 

You place your hands on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around your waist as you slide off the edge and into the water. A squeal passes your lips. With eyes shut tight, and nails digging into his shoulders you cling onto him for dear life. 

“I got you” his warm voice comes out in reassurance.He holds you close to him, not leaving a single inch of space between your bodies. 

You open your eyes and find yourself practically glued against him. His face is so close to yours, you can still smell the sweet strawberries on his breath. “I am scared” you whisper. 

“Just keep your eyes on me” he comments as he begins to set you lower in the water. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you feel your feet almost touching the floor of the pool. You’re hanging onto him like a koala bear and he doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You make the mistake of looking down once and immediately hide your face in his chest. 

His arm tightens around you in a comforting way. “It’s alright. I am here” he mumbles as he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. “ Just hold onto me okay?” 

He starts walking backwards as you hold onto him and slowly but surely the water level rises along with panic. He stops smack dab in the middle of the pool. 

“Y/n look at me” he says softly, and you find the courage deep down to stare into those heartbreakingly beautiful brown eyes of his. “You’re fine. You can touch the floor of the pool” he unwraps your arms from his shoulders and steps back, but he still holds onto you. 

“Taehyung” you say warningly. 

“I am holding on. See” he looks down and you follow his gaze to find his hands wrapped securely around your forearms. 

“You promise you won’t let go?” your voice trembles. 

“I promise” he looks straight in your eyes. 

So you trust him and set your feet down completely this time even though the water almost swallows you. 

“See? You’re fine” he encourages you. “I am gonna swim back now” 

“Taehyung no!” 

He chuckles. “Relax y/n. I am still going to hold onto you. I am not going to let go of you. I swear” 

His words, the sincerity in them manages to put you at ease for the moment. He holds onto you and starts doing a backstroke dragging you along with him in the water. At first you’re terrified as your feet are lifted off the ground and the water weighs heavy on your body. But then after a while you become used to the weightlessness. Taehyung keeps his promise and holds onto your arm as you both swim around. 

“It’s fun right?” he looks at you with a smile and you chuckle nervously unable to form words because they are stuck to the back of your throat due to fear. 

So you circle around the pool holding onto him once you get comfortable. You manage to swim towards the shallow end of the pool where the water sits comfortably below your waist, providing you with a sense of security. Taehyung meanwhile stays in the deep end, eyes glued to you. 

“Scaredy cat” he teases with a grin as water runs down his face. His clothes are completely soaked. 

“You’ll get sick like that” you shout across the pool which makes him chuckle. 

He shakes his head and swims towards you, head appearing and disappearing and then he emerges out of the water right in front of you. He runs a hand across his face to  wipe away the water. A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead and absentmindedly you smooth it back. 

He grins at the gesture and sniffles.“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks, noticing how you’re shivering. 

“Yeah” you mumble and he easily picks you up by the waist and sets you down on the edge of the pool while your feet dangle in the water. 

He places his palms on the edge of the pool and hauls himself up, spinning midway to sit back down next to you. His arm touches yours, sending shivers through your whole body and you shudder. 

Taehyung wraps his arm around you and pulls you into himself as your head hits his shoulder “I saw it on Discovery. Body heat is the best way to warm yourself up” he offers an explanation, but you don’t need it because you don’t mind being this close to him at all. 

He gently strokes your arm, trying to warm you up and you snuggle closer to him and  wrap your arm around his torso. 

“I don’t have a change of clothes” you mention pensively. 

“I have some clothes here just in case. You can wear those” he offers kindly. 

You nod against his shoulder, too scared to speak for the fear of your teeth chattering as a cold draft blows towards you. Once the onset of shivers subsides you speak. “Thank you” 

He continues to rub your arm, and you feel the goosebumps abating. “You’re welcome” 

With his comment silence falls as both of you stare at the blue water in front of you too lost in your thoughts to think of anything else. With other people silence seems to pose a problem, but with him it's comfortable-- a sign that you feel at ease with him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks quietly

“Nothing in particular. What are you thinking about?” you ask in return and feel him resting his cheek on top of your head. 

“About how this feels right. You and I, just sitting like this” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” you say, feeling a pang of guilt rise out of your stomach because you feel like you’re deceiving him. Being with him and not speaking with V for so long, doesn’t do anything to lessen your feelings for V. You thought if you spent time with him, it would provide you with some clarity about who you like more. You had hoped it would help you in some way to decide who you lean towards but the thing is you’re back to square one. You definitely feel closer to Taehyung now than you did the first day you met him, but feeling closer to Taehyung doesn’t make you feel distant from V. 

He doesn’t respond to your comment which you don’t mind because sometimes silence speaks louder than words and right now you don’t need any words to understand what’s going on. 

“Do you want to go inside? I don’t want you getting sick” he asks, lifting his head from yours and looking down at you.

You unwrap your arm from his abdomen and pull your head away from his shoulder. “Yeah let’s go” you reply and he quickly gets up, holding out both his hands for you to take. You’ve become so used to his caring and gentle ways that when you slide your hands in his, it feels exactly right. He helps you up and wraps one of his hands in yours. 

He takes you to the drying area, which is basically just a room filled with towels and bathrobes, and swimsuits and swimming trunks. You both step inside, a shiver passing through you as the warm air makes contact with your cold skin. He grabs a towel from one of the open shelves and hands it to you. You run it through your hair while Taehyung grabs one for himself and runs it through his locks. 

You tap the towel over your clothes to absorb the excess water, especially your jeans, which are completely soaked. 

“You good?” Taehyung asks and you nod.  “I’ll get you a pair of my clothes and you can change into them” 

“Thanks Taehyung” you smile at him. 

Once you’re dried and not dripping water everywhere Taehyung takes you back inside the house, still no sign of his grandparents. He shows you where the rooms are and settles you into the room right next to his. You counted at least six rooms when he was giving you the tour of the floor.

“If you need anything I am just next door” he smiles after handing you his clothes. It’s a white shirt and black sweats. 

“Thank you for everything Taehyung” you return the smile. 

“Good night y/n” 

“Good night Taehyung” 

His gaze lingers on you as a few beats of silence pass. His brown eyes sparkle underneath light that is hanging overhead on the ceiling of the landing. He keeps his eyes affixed on you and you enrapt by him find it hard to look away too. 

He blinks first, breaking that small moment of tension. “I’ll-- I’ll see you tomorrow” 

“See you tomorrow” 

He pivots on his heels and disappears and you peek your head out to watch him vanish behind the door of his room. You shut the door and hobble back to the bed, falling face first on it. You feel tired but not tired enough to sleep. There isn’t a sliver of intention to sleep, and all the intention to stay awake. It’s especially worse because you’re separated by nothing but a paper thin wall between you and Taehyung. 

Knowing that he’s in the next room has your curiosity piqued. You want to know what he’s doing. You can’t help but think about the one time he grew solemn during the day when you joked if he’s cheating on you. There was something about the way he grew quiet that irked you. Something about the way his fingers loosened their grip on your hand almost as if he wanted to let go. 

You sigh and stand up, trudging to the bathroom connected to your room to take a hot shower. Maybe it will help you clear your head. 

You stare blankly at the grey ceiling of the room, your phone right next to you and your fingers slowly but surely reaching for it. 

You bring it in front of your face and open the app to text V. It feels like forever since you have talked to him. It’s in moments like this when everything around you is quiet, and your thoughts run rampant completely out of your control when you crave talking to him. Maybe it’s selfish of you but he comforts you. You remember the playlist he sent you and put the music on at a low volume so as not to disturb Taehyung in the next room. 

The silence is chased away by the sounds of quiet, soothing music. 

Bananamilk: Hi V. How are you? 

You wait for a reply but don’t have to wait for long because almost instantaneously a reply comes. 

Icedtea: I am so sorry I never messaged you all day long. Got busy 

Bananamilk: I was pretty busy too so it’s okay. What did you do? 

Icedtea: I hung out with a friend

Bananamilk: would this be the same friend you were telling me about earlier?

Icedtea: It’s weird that you’re so obsessed with her 😂 but yes. 

Bananamilk: I am not obsessed with her 😐 Anyway, what did you guys do?

Icedtea: hung out. Talked. Ate. Tried swimming but she’s afraid of water 

Bananamilk: Wow that’s strange. I am scared of water too and my friend tried to get me to swim today too. Didn’t work out too well though 

Icedtea: Strange coincidence. Yeah. She swam for a bit with my help. But then I guess there is only so much you can do when someone is afraid of water. Can’t force it. 

Bananamilk: Yeah. Take it from me. You can’t. 

Icedtea: I kinda missed talking to you even though I was busy 

Bananamilk: Yeah me too. 

Icedtea: Aren’t you sleepy? 

Bananamilk: Nah. Too much on my mind. By the way I am listening to the playlist you made for me. Dare I say you’re a musical genius 

Icedtea: Gee thanks. I’ll make you another one so you can sleep. 

Bananamilk: Why are you so sweet V?

Icedtea: I am not like this with everyone. You bring out this side of me you know? 

Your heart lurches in your throat and your hands immediately start sweating which loosens your grip on the phone. 

Bananamilk: You’re good with words 

Icedtea: It’s one of my many talents. Thank you. But on a serious note are you finding the playlist helpful at all? 

Bananamilk: You have no idea how calm I feel right now while listening to it and talking to you. 

Icedtea: I always find music relaxes me. So I thought it might help you too. 

Bananamilk: Whoever ends up with you will be one lucky gal 

Icedtea: What if it ends up being you? 

You drop your phone on your face out of shock. It hits your nose and you wince in pain. “Shit” you massage it. Normally you would freak out and lose your mind over how to respond. But right now you feel too calm to let panic take over. Nina’s words ring in your ears and you remember to let things happen. Following that line you say the first thing that comes to your head. 

Bananamilk: You deserve better than me

And he does because you feel like an absolutely shitty person for having these feelings for him but also for feeling attracted to Taehyung. V deserves someone who can love him wholeheartedly and that’s not you because your loyalties are divided.

Icedtea: I don’t think I can do any better than you

Bananamilk: You barely know me, V. 

Icedtea: I know enough to say that I can’t do better than you because you’re exactly the kind of person I envision myself with. It’s so easy with you. 

Bananamilk: I feel the same way, but trust me. One day you’ll realize you can get someone better. Maybe that friend of yours. 

Icedtea: Yeah. Maybe that friend of mine… or maybe you. Anyway, I gotta go but I will catch up with you later?

Bananamilk: Alright. Take care 

Icedtea: You too. 

With a sigh you hide yourself under the blankets. 

It’s 1 am and you’re wide awake. For the past thirty minutes you have been mindlessly scrolling through your conversation with V while simultaneously thinking about Taehyung, who is in the room right next to yours. You toss and turn in your bed, desperately waiting for your brain to get tired enough to want to sleep. But it doesn’t come. You sit up in the bed holding your head in your hands ready to rip out your hair when soft sounds of music drift into your room from the paper thin wall between your and Taehyung’s room. 

Is he not sleeping? 

Somehow hit with the disease of stupidity, you shuffle out the bed and carefully tiptoe across your room. You open the door and peek your head out towards Taehyung’s room. The door is slightly ajar, and there is a ray of light casting shadows on the wall opposite you. 

Keeping in with being as quiet as possible, you continue to tiptoe as you cross the threshold of your room and enter the landing. You stand outside Taehyung’s room and knock once. 

“I am awake” comes his voice, and you peek your head inside. 

“I thought you were asleep” you whisper shout because you don’t want to wake his grandparents up. He’s sitting up in the bed clad in PJ’s that seem to fit him looser than his usual clothes. 

“I couldn’t fall asleep” he waves you inside as he whisper shouts too. 

You step in and close the door to the room as a courtesy for his grandparents. It is weird being in an enclosed space with him but you don’t have much of a choice. 

“Are you listening to Tchaikovsky?” you say in your normal voice. 

“Yeah” he nods and pats the empty spot next to him on his bed. 

“Are you sure?” you question stopping at the edge of his bed. 

He regards you in silence and as if something breaks inside him he nods. “My clothes look good on you by the way” he says taking in how his black shirt and grey sweats swallow your frame. You sit beside him under the covers, a respectable distance apart.

“Stop” you mumble feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“You’re red again” he muses from beside you as a soft grin appears on his lips. 

“Will you stop it?” you slap him gently across the shoulder. 

“Fine” he chuckles. “What’s keeping you up at night?” he looks at you with those doe eyes of his. 

You and V 

If only you could tell him he’s part of the reason why you’re up at night. If you had the guarantee that telling him about V would not change a thing about your relationship with him, you would. But you have no such guarantee and you don’t want to lose whatever bond you have built with him. It’s idealistic thinking at best, but for now all you want to do is cuddle him and let that take away all your worries for the night. 

As if he can read your mind, he’s pulling you into himself and placing your head on his chest. He traces circles on your shoulder and hums slightly to the music that plays softly in the background. 

“Let me guess. You saw on discovery channel that cuddling helps people sleep” your laughter mixes in with the sounds of his humming and Tachaikovsky’s classics. 

He snorts. “It does. Discovery channel never lies” he offers in his defense. 

“Hmm” you say wrapping your arm around his torso and snuggling in closer. “I think I could fall asleep like this”

There is a moment of silence. 

“You do know that if something is troubling you, you can share it with me right?” his grip around your shoulder tightens as he gives a short reassuring squeeze. 

“I know” you mumble. “But you don’t have to be burdened by my problems” 

“It’s what friends are for isn’t it? Sharing your burdens?” 

“So we’re friends?” you question, absentmindedly playing with the fingers of his free hand and lets you. 

“I think we’re a little bit more than friends don’t you think?” 

“Hmm” you nod. “You don’t mind this?” 

“Not one bit. But the offer stands. I am always going to be there to listen to you even if I can’t help you” 

“Thank you” you say quietly, basking in the warmth of Kim Taehyung. “I’ll tell you because one day I’ll have to. But just give me time” you realize that this is all the moments you might have with him. He might never want to see you again after you tell him about V. He might feel like you betrayed him. Like you played him. 

“Take all the time you want y/n. Something has been eating away at me for days too and I am losing my mind over it. I feel like a horrible person because I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I am forced to pick between two people I adore and I just can't lose either of them...” he trails off.  

“Oh Tae” you sigh as you hug him tighter because you understand. “You know at the end of it all, you will be exactly where you should be and whoever you are supposed to be with. I don’t know if that helps you but if I was in your situation” you pause as your mind fills in the blank -- which i am-- “that’s how I would want to look at it” 

“Thanks y/n” he mumbles as he places his head on top of yours. “I guess all this talk is probably not helping you feel sleepy eh?” 

“Actually  you’re too warm and it is making me sleepy” 

You hear the reverberations of his laugh against your ear. “Good night Mrs. Kim” you can imagine the infectious grin on his face as he says it. 

You laugh in response too. It’s become somewhat of a joke between you guys. “Good night Mr. Kim” 

For some reason since all the V and Taehyung drama, Nina has become your voice of reason. When a bout of stupidity hits you she’s there to set you straight and you’re grateful for it because you can’t really see the appeal of objectivity in the situation. 

“Text V and ask him to meet up” Nina urges you, giving you the stern look just when you’re about to open your mouth in protest and whine. 

“I don’t even know if he actually lives in New York. Or if he’s on the other side of the world” you reply with resentment towards her suggestion. 

“You didn’t ask?” she looks at you in disbelief. 

“Why would I? It’s not like I was expecting this to get anywhere” you lament. 

“Well then you better talk to Taehyung about it. It’s been a week since you went to the farmhouse. You asked for time and you got it. So tell him about V” 

“I’m scared Nina” your lips just out in a pout and a frown appears on your forehead. 

“That’s normal, cousin. But you know you have to tell him. You can’t just lead him on. Just talk to one of them. But before that do you even know who you like more? Because you can’t like both of them equally and choose one of them because you have to. This isn’t a game and they aren’t toys. It wont be fair for anyone”

“I know. I realize that. I like V. I like Taehyung. That’s a fact we have established. But I do like one of them more than the other, something I realized last week” 

“How did you come to that realization?” she questions, tone full of curiosity. 

“It just hit me...out of nowhere. I almost felt the wind get knocked out of me. But now I know” you trail, the words slipping back from your tongue and collecting back in your mind again. 

“Who is it?” she asks

“I’ll tell you after I tell him” 

“There are two ‘him’s’ in this situation” she sighs. 

“Exactly” you purse your lips. 

“Fine. Then all you need to do is talk to both of them” 

“You say that like I am going to talk to them about cake or something” you shake your head. 

“In the grand scheme of things, it's like talking about cake” she winks at you in that casual way. 

“Sure. Whatever you say” your reply. 

“Make sure you do communicate with them otherwise I am gonna haul your sorry ass and make you do it. I did it once already when I signed you up. Just know I won't hesitate to act on your behalf again” she says warningly before she’s striding off without giving you the chance of scolding her. 

As your luck would have it, V is actually in San Francisco visiting his family. You don’t know why you allowed yourself to not ask him where he was going because if you had all this could have been avoided. But alas, you did ask him because he’s the first person you need to talk to. After you deal with him you’ll tell Taehyung the truth and you are prepared to face the consequences of your actions. 

You decided to meet with V at 10 am in the coffee shop near Misim because Taehyung is at Misim visiting his mother too. 

It’s 9:45 am and your heart hasn’t stopped its painful relentless beating since well last night when you texted V and asked him to meet up. Neither did you sleep and that was obvious though wasn’t it? So at 10 am on Sunday, you’re completely tired, your body begging for sleep but somehow your brain refuses to comply as it keeps you hyper alert, hyperactive, and fidgety. To make matters worse in the last 30 minutes you have already had two coffee’s. 

The door chimes and you turn around to find Kim Taehyung walking inside, clad in a suit. His hair is parted a little bit to the left of his forehead. He’s busy typing furiously on his phone and doesn’t notice the man walking towards him on a collision course.

“Taehyung!” you yell his name to prevent them both from crashing into each other and possibly getting hurt. 

Just as he’s about to bump into the man he looks up at you and then at the man walking towards him and side steps him. 

A frown graces his face as he approaches your table. “What are you doing here?” he stops next to you

“I am meeting a friend” you look up at him. 

“Me too!” his lips widen in a grin. 

“Your friend isn’t here yet?” he questions as his eyes fall on the empty chair in front of you and the two coffee cups sitting on your side of the table. 

“Do you want to sit with me while I wait for him?” you question 

He doesn’t hesitate and sits opposite you. “So it’s a guy friend. I see” he sounds a little bit jealous. 

“Are you jealous?”you question, feeling the nervousness and dread from before dissipating just a bit. 

“Kind of” he shrugs. 

You chuckle. “I like the honesty” 

He’s silent as he looks away, the tips of his ears growing red. 

“So your friend isn’t here either?” you question in order to make him feel a little less embarrassed. 

He abandons his incessant lip biting as he looks at you. “No she isn’t” 

“Oh” your mouth hangs open. “It’s a girl” 

“Why?” an amused look passes his face, lips quivering, threatening to spill into a smile. “Are you jealous?”

“Nah. I am not petty like that” you try to suppress a smile by biting your lip. 

“Liar” he narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. 

“Whatever you say Kim Taehyung” you shake your head. You crane your neck to look at the door in case someone is entering and in case that someone is V. “It’s ten and he isn’t here. I am just going to text him. Give me one sec” you slide your phone towards yourself and open the app to text V. 

Bannamilk: Hey. Are you almost here? You didn’t get lost did you?

As soon as you send the message to V, Taehyung’s phone vibrates which sits on the table. 

Strange. 

You shut your phone and look up at Taehyung. 

“Sorry. My friend, she just texted. One sec” he types quickly and when he puts his phone away, that's when your phone vibrates with a message from V. 

Your brows furrow in confusion at the strangeness of your phone and his phone buzzing when you both send texts to your respective friend’s but you shake the feeling away focusing on the message on your screen. 

Icedtea: I am here. Wait where are you?

Bananamilk: I am here too. I don’t see you. 

As soon as the message ticks off as sent, Taehyung’s phone rings at the same time. This is too many times for it to be a coincidence. Could it possibly be… Probably not but just to put your ridiculous suspicion to rest you ask him.

“Taehyung?” you question and he looks up from his phone. “Is that a message from your friend by any chance?” 

“Yeah” he nods. 

“Wait…” you bite your lip and send another message to V. Taehyung’s phone vibrates again. You send another message, just random gibberish and it vibrates again. 

“She’s just sending keyboard smashes now” Taehyung muses, looking confusedly at his phone. 

Your mouth drops open at his statement. “Taehyung” you call tentatively. He looks up and you hold your phone in his direction. 

He leans in closer to get a better look at whatever you’re showing him. His eyes dart across the screen as he reads your message and then a look of realization crosses his face. He blinks profusely, eyes switching focus from the screen to you. 

“No fucking way” he mumbles in a dazed way. 

“Yes fucking way” you mutter. “You’re V?” 

“You’re-- wait. But how?” he continues to blink rapidly, clearly unable to comprehend whatever is happening. He shakes his head, and closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a shaky breath. He opens his eyes and gapes at you“You’re bananamilk? The girl I have been talking to for weeks?” 

You nod slowly. “I- How is this even happening?” 

“I have no idea” he says under his breath, rubbing his face. 

“How have we been talking to each other on the app and face to face and not know any of this?” It's more of a rhetorical question. You don’t expect him to answer it because how the hell is he supposed to know that? 

But he does respond. “I can’t believe I never talked about Yeontan with you. If he came up we would have known a long time ago” 

“Holy fucking shit, Yeontan” you remember the picture V-- or rather Taehyung sent you as one of his very first messages to you. 

“My head is spinning right now” he massages his temples. 

“I need water” you get up and go to the ordering counter and get yourself and Taehyung water. You walk back, noticing Taehyung’s elbows planted firmly on the table and his face hidden behind his hands. 

“Water” you mutter and place the glass in front of him. He emerges from behind his hands and doesn’t delay in chugging down the glass of water. “What now?” 

“Does this change your feelings?” he questions instantly as he slams the glass on the table. 

“You know why I invited you- well actually V-- here? To tell him-- rather you-- that I like him and I like you. But I like you more than I like him and that it wouldn’t be fair for me to keep talking to him-- or talking to you” you start feeling overwhelmed by it and pause. “This is confusing” you rub your temples with a sigh.

“So you like the real me better than the app me?” he asks, a slight amusement reflecting in his eyes. 

“Don’t you feel betrayed though?” you look at him and question in all seriousness because it would make sense for him to feel at least some severity of disappointment. Because after all, this whole time to you, V and Taehyung were two different people. 

“I get what you mean. You thought V was a different guy and liked him and then you started liking me too as Taehyung, not imagining that me and V are the same people. But it’s the same for me so I can’t be mad at you. I thought you and m’lady as I know you from the app, were two different people. I liked her-- well you-- and also the real life y/n at the same time” he smiles softly. 

You bite your lip, unable to stop yourself from blinking profusely as the confusion still remains prevalent in your mind. “This is nuts” you cradle your head in your hands. “I still can’t believe it” 

“It is” Taehyung’s voice comes through like a saviour and draws you out of the dizzying trance you find yourself in. 

“Wait so when I joked with you that you’re cheating on me you grew all serious. Was that because of all this?” you question, curiosity getting the better of you. 

“Yeah. I felt horrible. Because it did feel like cheating. Here I was with this amazing girl, starting to develop feelings for her. But then I already liked another girl too” 

You shake your head slowly, still unable to fully grasp the situation. “You know I got the sense that something was wrong when you grew quiet and almost let go of my hand” 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to but it just hit me hard and I got lost in those feelings” 

“It’s okay” you offer with  a smile. 

“Are you mad at me?” he questions, voice laced with concern. 

“No. I can’t be mad at you. I mean if it was only you and there actually were two people then I might have been hurt. But we’re in this together” 

Taehyung pulls his lower lip between his teeth, a look of deep thought on his face. “So then we’re good?” 

You laugh quietly, a short huff of air out of your nose. “We’re good” 

“Since this is out in the open. I have to ask you this because I am dying of curiosity. When did you start liking me on the app and when did you start liking me in real life?” he questions, leaning in towards you. 

“I think that first spark of attraction on the app happened when we started talking about classical music and then we talked about LA and how it’s a sucky place to grow up in. In real life I realized it was when you ordered half and half of shaved ice and then when you brought those snacks for the trip to Sonoma. I thought you were kind and considerate which drew me to you even more” 

“Oooh” he chuckles. “For the app it was the same for me. But when I met you as y.n the moment that sticks out in my memory is when people at the restaurant kept calling us Mr. and Mrs. Kim. I realized I wouldn’t mind being your Mr. Kim” 

“How romantic” you joke, but you can’t deny that it's cute. 

Taehyung stifles a yawn but you catch it. “Did you not sleep?”. Sometimes it surprises you how easily you transition from one topic to another with Taehyung. There are no awkward pauses, no long deafening silences. Here you were two seconds ago talking about all the craziness but now you’re approaching a different topic. 

He shakes his head, another yawn teetering at the edge. “I was too nervous about today”. 

“Me too. I didn’t sleep a wink” you admit now that a bit of the confusion and from earlier has subsided. 

“Do you wanna nap?” he asks, wagging his brows at you. 

“Where?” you question 

“I know a place” he gets up and extends his hand. 

You take it and both of you walk out of the coffee shop hand in hand. 

You blink daftly at Taehyung, unable to believe he’s brought you here. “Your mom’s office?” 

“She has a couch” he points to the black piece of furniture that looks very comfortable at the moment. He flops down on it with a thud, head resting against the back. 

“Whatever” you mumble and make your way to the inviting plush leather sofa. “I am too tired right now to be picky” 

You lay your head in Taehyung’s lap after he insists that you use him as a pillow because “it will be more comfortable”. He plays with your hair absentmindedly, staring at nothing in particular with tired eyes. 

“What if Mrs. K comes in and sees us like this?” you question making him lift his head and look at you with those groggy eyes. 

“One, she’ll be delighted because she got her wish. Second, she won’t be here until tomorrow because her day is jam packed with meetings” he mutters, tiredness reflecting in the quietness of his voice. 

You’re quiet in response as you think about nothing in particular. But then your mind shifts to how it used to be before you met Taehyung. Things were different back then. You were so sure you couldn’t fall in love, much less fall in ‘like’ with anyone. You didn’t even want to involve yourself in relationships. But then he came in the picture and even though at first you didn’t think you would end up anywhere, you realized on that first night with him that you could end up somewhere with him. 

“Do you think this is going to change things?” you ask as you try to fight off the sleepiness because you need to know. 

“It’s not changing a thing for me. I am relieved in a way to be honest” his voice is raspy. He continues to run his fingers through your scalp which makes the sleepy sensation worse

“Relieved?” 

“Yeah. I fell for the same girl. Just different versions of her. I am so happy you are not two different people” 

“Me too” you yawn. 

“Anyway, I thought you were tired” he bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead.  

“I am ”you hold his arm over your torso and close your eyes finally. “I just wanted to know that things wouldn’t change” 

“They won’t” he mumbles sleepily and you notice his eyes fluttering shut. You let yourself drift deeper into the sweet slumber that is slowly overtaking you. The last thing you remember is the sounds of soft snores filling the room before your eyes shut. 

“Y/n” 

Jolt 

“Y/n” 

In your sleepy state you can hear someone calling your name. 

“Wake up. I should drop you home” 

You groan and shift slightly. 

“Okay seriously my legs are numb now, so you better get up” 

You murmur and refuse to open your eyes even when you feel another sharp jolt of your body being shaken. You flinch when you feel a draft of air in your ear, and have to clap your hand to shut your ear close. 

“Taehyung stop. Let me sleep” you whine in a raspy voice. 

“It’s 9 pm y/n and my dear mother is here” he whispers close to the ear you're covering. 

“What!” you awaken immediately at the mention of Mrs. K. 

“Good evening” Taehyung greets and you slide your legs over the edge of the couch as you sit with your back against the sofa. 

You look at him through half lidded eyes. “You said it’s 9 pm” 

“It’s 5 pm. We’ve been here for six hours” he smiles gently

You look around for signs of Mrs. K but the room is empty save for you and Taehyung. “You lied about your mom being here” you croak, throat feeling parched.

“It was the only way to get you up. Now, let's get you home where you can sleep more peacefully” Taehyung reaches over and places a kiss on your temple. 

“How much of a mess do I look like right now?” you rub your eyes. 

“Well, your eyes are a little puffy, lips slightly dry, and your hair is a bit messy too. So all in all you look beautiful” he grins at you. 

“Oh please don’t” you shake your head in pure disapproval. 

“Whatever you say y/n. But seriously I’ve got to get you home” 

“What are you, the curfew police?” you laugh quietly. 

“Don’t try to change the subject” 

You whine some more about wanting to sleep here because it’s comfortable but Taehyung promises that you’ll be much more comfortable at home in your bed.  And who are you to say no Taehyung? He could ask you to jump off a cliff and you would do it. He could break your heart and you would still like him. You’re putty in his hands and so you let him drive you home. 

At first when you offer Taehyung to come inside he refuses because he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to. But then when you explain that you really want him to come inside, after about fifty long seconds of thinking about it he says yes. He quietly follows you inside, and you lead him to the living room which is empty because Nina isn’t home. In fact she won’t be home for a few days. 

Taehyung makes himself comfortable and like the gentleman he is asks if he can put on Netflix. You tell him he can do whatever he likes, well because he can. You give him the freedom and permission because you trust him. After putting your stuff away you join him on the sofa and immediately he cuddles up to you, placing his head on your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your torso. You extend an arm behind him, so you can play with his hair. 

“What are we watching?” you ask, absentmindedly threading your fingers through his hair. 

“The Witcher” Taehyung mumbles as he puts on the first episode. 

“I forgot you are well aware of my Henry Cavill obsession” 

“You forget I think he’s a piece of art. So technically I am doing this for me and you” he says softly, eyes glued to the TV. 

You watch a few episodes in silence, occasionally changing your positions so that sometimes you are resting your head on his shoulder, or he’s laying his head on your lap and playing with your fingers as you’re both completely absorbed in the show.

He shifts his head in your lap as he turns his focus to you. “Y/n” his voice overlaps with the sounds of the Tv. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You look down at him with a soft smile. “Yes, I will” you reach down and press your lips against his. Taehyung immediately melts into it, hand reaching up to cup your cheek to deepen the kiss. Then in one smooth motion, he’s pinning you under himself. Your moans are muffled by his lips pressing soft kisses against your lips. His hands grip your sides, nails digging into your flesh. 

“I want to do more than just kiss you y/n” he mumbles against your lips

You let him. 

A shiver runs down your spine as Taehyung hovers over you, the bed creaking slightly due to the pressure of his hands digging into the mattress. He presses a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips. It begins as something playful, almost innocent but soon enough lust takes over and his kisses get hungrier. He wants more, and he conveys it as he digs his nails into your flesh making you wince in pain, but it’s the kind that’s pleasurable. 

“Fuck I want you so bad y/n” he runs his fingers down the middle of your torso, hand stopping just above your hip bone, where he teasingly plays with the band of your jeans. 

“Stop being a tease” you chide breathlessly, turning your head to look away from him

“Tell me you want it” he gently drags his finger upwards and it catches in the material of your shirt which rides up, partially exposing your stomach. His fingers continue grazing against your skin until his hand with your jaw and he makes you look at him. “Say it” he whispers softly, looking you straight in the eyes. 

“I want it. I want you” 

Taehyung doesn’t waste any time after you give him permission. He unzips your jeans and pulls them down your legs leaving you exposed in your panties. As he’s busy with that you almost rip your shirt as you hastily slide it over your head and throw it on the floor. A slight feeling of impatience overcomes you, as Taehyung very slowly crawls back up to you, leaving a trail of kisses over your exposed abdomen. 

You’re so impatient that you arch your back to gain access to your bra clip but he is quick to grip your hand just as you’re about to unhook it “Leave it on” the expression in his eyes darkens considerably as he kisses up your chest and nibbles on your collarbone. 

“Is that your kink?” you whisper breathlessly threading your fingers through his hair as he continues to bite gently along your collarbone. 

“I think it’s hotter that way” he mumbles as his lips graze your skin. 

 He locks his hands in yours and raises your arms above your head while he moves down to press soft kisses along your inner thigh until he reaches just above your core. He licks a strip along the skin just above the hem of your panties, teasing you, making your insides ache even more for some kind of friction.

“Just do it” you mumble impatiently. 

He chuckles. “Didn’t pin you for the impatient type” 

“Didn’t pin you for the talking type” you tease. “I thought you would be more of an action kind of guy” you try to provoke just so he will act and loosen the knot that’s built in the pit of your stomach. A pulsating sensation rips through your core when he pushes away the fabric of your underwear and rubs his thumb up and down your clit. 

“Shit” you shiver, back arching. 

“I haven’t even touched you properly y/n” his raspy voice makes the throbbing even worse. You can feel yourself getting wet. 

“Then do it. Please” you whine, craving his touch. 

“Who am I to say no?” and without a warning he plunges a finger inside you. 

“Oh my god, Taehyung--” your breath catches in your throat, breaking out in gasps as he pushes in and out slowly. 

“Wow, you’re tight” Taehyung mumbles as he sets a slow pace making sure you can feel every movement. He curls his index finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot that has your whole body stiffening in response. 

“Taehyung” you gasp, hips bucking automatically at the contact, your body yearning for the release that is building up slowly. 

“Fuck” he whispers as he presses his lips against your clit, moving his tongue in ways that makes you almost scream out of pleasure. You clutch the fabric of the bed sheet tight, knuckles turning white as Taehyung increases the pace with which he slides his finger in and out of you. You can hear the squelch of his fingers fucking you as your walls begin to clamp down on his fingers. The knot in your stomach twists, as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

But just as you feel yourself teeter at the edge Taehyung takes his finger out. 

“What are you doing?” you ask annoyed at being denied your orgasm. 

“Your turn” he shuffles from between your legs and sits down at the edge of the bed, and takes his pants and boxers off.  He looks over his shoulder at you, tongue peeking from behind his teeth. You get up, even though your legs feel weak and shift to the side so he has space. He shuffles back until he’s resting against the headboard. 

When you see him, your eyes travel immediately between his legs. “Wow” you blink profusely. “I am not sure it will--” 

“You’ll be fine. I got you” he says reassuringly as for a slight moment the primal expression of his eyes softens to be replaced by the comforting Kim Taehyung you are used to. “I promise” 

You did not expect him to be that thick and long. You can see the veins popping along his shaft. Slightly worried, you crawl over to him on your hands and knees as he grips himself. You lick your lips at the sight of him looking he’s fucked out of his mind and you haven’t even touched him. It only serves to make your arousal worse. 

You slap his hands away and wrap your own around his shaft. You bend down to lick a teasing line along the side and feel him shudder under you. Your confidence soars seeing him react so sensitively to your touch. You lick another strip at the crimson head, already leaking with precum. 

“Stop being a fucking tease” his voice comes out strained which makes you laugh quietly, a huff of air out through your nose. 

“Just repaying the favour Mr. Kim” you part your lips taking in as much of his cock into your mouth as you can. He reaches for your hair and pulls it back and thrusts his hips making you gag. You feel the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you feel a slight burn in your jaw as he thrusts into your mouth once more.

“Fuck” he groans halting the movement and to let you continue on your own.  You pull back up to the head and sink back down again and he shivers beneath you once more. You pull away from him, breathless as you wrap your fingers around him. You look up to meet his hooded eyes and start massaging his cock, watching as he bites his lip and a soft whimper escapes his throat. 

“Keep going” he strains. You move your hand up and down against his shaft slowly at first and then you pick up the pace when you notice he starts twitching between your fingers. His thighs are tense as you fasten your pace and his chest rises and falls faster than before. The soft moans grow louder, hips lifting off the bed. It’s not long before he’s climaxing, and gasping for air as he bucks his hips for more friction. A guttural groan passes his lips as his orgasm hits him hard and his release coats your hands. But you don’t mind because the way Taehyung is gasping for air, red-faced, his hair in his eyes, lip caught between his teeth, it was worth it.

“I help you, you help me” you mumble as you lick your fingers free of his juices. 

“That’s so hot y/n. Fuck. Just lie down” he orders and you don’t waste a single second getting on your back. 

Taehyung hovers over you, hands locking yours in place beside your head, as he presses a  hungry kiss to your lips. He leaves your mouth to place soft kisses to the crook of your neck. He lingers there for a moment before making his way back down until he is between your legs. He spreads your legs apart, and settles in between them immediately sliding two fingers this time in your core as he looks at you from between your legs. 

“That’s it. Come on baby.” he mumbles as he dives in and suckles on your clit making that pressure build-up again as he moves in rhythm with his fingers. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you can't help but buck your hips in need of more friction. His fingers and his tongue pick up their pace making you keen as they work in tandem. 

He pulls his mouth away from your clit. He fervently pushes his fingers in and out of you while with his other hand he rubs your clit. “Cum for me babe” 

With the overstimulation, it’s not long before you are coming undone, walls pulsating and convulsing around his fingers. He draws patterns with his thumb on your clit as you climax. You shiver, and fist the bed sheet until your knuckles turn white as waves of pleasure rip through you. 

“Taehyung-” you whimper 

He licks as much of your cum as he can before he pulls away, shifting to place a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“You were amazing” he praises as he rolls off you, gathering you up in his arms, feeling the sheen of sweat on your skin as he strokes your arm. “Shower?” he questions, slightly breathless. 

“Give me a minute” you pant heavily trying to catch your breath as you snuggle against his warm body.

He chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Whatever you want y/n”

After you shower and clean yourself up, you and Taehyung make your way downstairs to the living room where you had left The Witcher on. You both fall down on the couch and you cuddle against him. He wraps his arm around you pulling you in closer. He reaches for the remote with his free hand and goes back to episode three which is where you had left off. 

“Taehyung?” you ask softly

“Yeah” he replies, eyes glued to the show. 

“Who was that girl in the picture you drew? The paper that I gave you when I first met you. I saw it” 

“You” he replies. 

You pull away from his warm embrace to look at him. You are sure it wasn’t you because it looked nothing like you. “Me?” your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I saw your picture on Swipe, but you were wearing sunglasses that covered half your face. So I didn’t clearly know what you looked like. On my way here to meet my mother, I made that sketch based on what I thought you would look like given your personality. I did that because I had started to like you.” 

“Thats--” you have no words so you grab the material of his shirt and pull him in for a quick kiss. 

“What was that?” he asks, confused once you pull apart. 

“That deserves a kiss. You made me a playlist and then you drew a sketch. It was not of me. But it’s the thought that counts” you smile. 

“I have a question too” he looks at you curiously. 

“Go ahead” 

“What did you wish for that day? I know you said you don’t wish and tell but I want to know if that wish came true” he reaches for your hand and locks his fingers into yours. 

You’re quiet as you look at this man in front of you. The man who came like a whirlwind into your life and turned it upside down. A man you didn’t know until two weeks ago and then you knew all of him as V and as Taehyung. You got to see two different sides of him when people in this day and age are lucky enough to see one true side of someone. 

“What was it?” he prompts again with a soft smile that crinkle’s the corners of his eyes. 

“You” you whisper. “It was you. I wished for you” 

“You didn’t even know me back then” he blinks in an awestruck manner. 

“Yes I did. Just not in the way you or I thought. I wished that one day I hope I would meet V. Little did I know my wish had already come true hours before I made it and that it was standing in front of me in the form of you, Kim Taehyung” 

He blinks. He’s quiet as he looks at you, eyes travelling the expanse of your face as if he’s trying to commit to memory. His eyes sparkle, and you can see yourself reflected in his brown irises. You can see yourself through them and for a moment you think you look beautiful. 

“I love you” he leans in and presses a peck to your lips. “I love you so fucking much” 

You’re positively beaming when he pulls away. “I love you too. So fucking much” you reply and he laughs pulling you into his side as both of you settle back to watch The Witcher. 

{2 months later} 

When you and Taehyung decide to take things forward, you spend the night over at his place in San Francisco when he’s there instead of your own which is perfectly fine with Nina. He flies out from New York every few weeks to see you which is one of the many cute things he does for you.

On one Friday night when he’s in town and you’re at his place, your sweet sweet slumber is disturbed by an annoying Taehyung at 1 am. The sounds of feet shuffling against the floor, objects clattering here and there, muffled sounds of music just makes it all the more difficult to stay asleep. You whine and turn on your stomach and run your hand to the other side of the bed, searching for a pillow. Once your hand makes contact with the fluffy object, you throw it over your ear to block out the annoying sounds. 

“Y/n wake up” Taehyung’s voice blares through the room followed by the slow increase in the volume of music. “I’ll give you ten seconds babe” 

“No….” you maon, clutching the pillow tighter to your ear. 

“10, 9, 8, 7….” Taehyung’s voice grows nearer and nearer until the covers are being ripped off you along with the pillow. “We still need to get tickets” 

You open an eye to find Taehyung looming over you, hands pressed on either side of you on the mattress. He’s  already dressed and he smells like strawberries-- as usual. You abandon your comfortable sleeping position and turn on your back, eyes still half closed. “Can you really not tell me where we are going?” you complain as you open your eyes to find him looking at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

“Even I don’t know where we are going. Impromptu vacation remember?” he explains as he gets up on the bed and straddles you. He wraps his fingers around your forearms and lifts you up. “Alright, up and at em’ ” he strains. Once you’re sitting up, he kisses the tip of your nose and shuffles off the bed. You’re so tired you can’t even be bothered to feel your usual blushy self at his cute romantic gestures. 

“Can’t I sleep for five more minutes” you yawn. 

“Y/n” he says warningly. You look in his direction to find him standing in front of the dressing table mirror, fixing his already perfect hair. “Get up or no more Henry Cavill movie marathons on the weekends” he looks at you through the mirror knowing that threatening you with this will do the trick.

“Wow” your jaw drops. “You���re really gonna do me dirty like that?” 

“Okay seriously...” Taehyung turns on his heels and strides over to you, placing one arm under your knees and the other behind your back as he picks you up. 

“Taehyung!” you squeal as he carries you over to the bathroom. He kicks the door open with his foot and enters inside, placing you gently on the floor. You shiver as your feet touch the cold floor. The mirror is fogged, exhaust fans blaring above you. 

“Shower. Now” he ushers you towards the bathtub. He turns back towards the bathroom cabinets, crouches down and takes out a towel and stands up turning to you. He thrusts it in your hand. “Hurry up please” he stands on his toes to place a kiss on the top of your head and then he’s closing the door leaving you slightly annoyed. 

You begrudgingly listen to him and quickly shower putting on your bathrobe. Once you’re out of the bathroom you find the bed has already been made, and your clothes laid out on the bed. Taehyung is one his phone as he’s relaxing on the bed. 

“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” you enter further into the room. 

“No you haven’t but the feeling is mutual” Taehyung abandons his perch on top of the bed and quietly exits the room to let you change. It’s when he does things like this that makes you want to jump his bones. But given that you are on a time constraint and still a little tired you’re not in the mood for jumping anything. 

Kim Taehyung sure does have taste as he picks out an outfit similar to his. Black cargo pants, with a white shirt and a blue denim jacket. You hear Taehyung calling out for you and quickly put on your clothes. 

“I am done!” you yell back and he enters the room. “Did you pick matching outfits?” you ask because he’s also dressed in a white shirt tucked in black cargo pants and a loose blue denim jacket completes the look. 

“It’s the trend these days. I would love to shower you in compliments because you look way better than I do, but we don’t have time” he tugs you by the wrist and hurries downstairs with you in tow. “Your shoes are by the door” he comments, gathering the luggage. Taehyung quickly puts his shoes on. He rushes past you with carry-on bags slung over his shoulders and hands occupied by the suitcases. 

The night is crisp and slightly chilly as you step out and lock the door. You run over to the car, Taehyung already in the driver's seat all strapped in. This is the only time in your very new two month relationship where Taehyung hasn’t opened the car door for you. You quickly sit and put your seatbelt on and then he drives off.

“So where do you want to go?” he asks as you stand hand in hand in front of the large board displaying all the domestic flights. 

When Taehyung suddenly proposed a spontaneous vacation your options were limited to staying in the country because everywhere else you would need a visa.  But you didn’t have time for that so you both settled on picking the earliest flight you would find at the airport when you arrived. 

You point to the board. “Seems like it’s gonna have to be New York” you say as it’s the earliest flight out of San Francisco at 4 am. 

Taehyung follows your finger. “That’s easy then. I live there. We don’t even need to find a hotel” 

“Well now you get to go home” you smile at him. 

He uses his free hand and places it on your other cheek as he pulls you in to kiss your temple. “You’re my home silly. My home is where you are” 

“See when you say things like that I don’t know what to do with myself. But  you’re my home too” you admit daringly, not shying away at all. 

He chuckles as he looks down at you. “I am never going to stop saying things like this. Ever. Because I am allowed to say them to you. If not you then who?” he grins from ear to ear. 

“Kim Taehyung, if only you could see inside my heart and my mind and know how you make me feel” you sigh. 

“I can see it on your face y/n. I don’t need anything else to know that” he pauses, the look in his eyes softening ever so slightly at seeing your lips quiver in a smile. That’s all he really needs to know what you feel. “Now, are you okay with New York?” he asks, directing both of your attention to more urgent matters because even he knows both of you could go on for hours about how much you love each other.

“It’s the earliest one, plus I have never been so it’s as good as any other place. Let's hope they have seats” you shrug. 

After deciding on New York, Taehyung goes to the check in desk while you wait behind. You watch as he speaks with the lady at the desk and after a moment her eyes are scanning the screen in front of her. She looks up at him with a smile and then he turns over his shoulder with a grin and throws you a thumbs-up. 

You immediately feel giddy at the prospect of going to New York with Taehyung and seeing the Rockefeller Centre, Central Park, Statue of Liberty, Times Square and the Empire State Building. You haven’t told him but you’ve held this fantasy of kissing him at the top of the Empire State Building ever since you got together.

He comes back with two boarding passes and tickets and hands one to you. “Lets go!” he says excitedly with a sparkle in his eyes as he naturally holds your hand. 

“We’re really doing this?” you ask as you beside him disbelief painted on your face. 

“I told you I would take you anywhere y/n and I meant it. Next time I am gonna take you on a real-out-of-the-country vacation. I promise” he looks down at you, a boxy smile ever present on his face as he squeezes your hand. 

The waiting area is almost empty save for a few people here and there. You lie with your head in his lap, his denim jacket serving as a blanket on your feet as you are reading the Blood of the Elves-- the book that The Witcher is based on, a fact you didn't know until two weeks ago when Taehyung mentioned it. You practically freaked out and the next day a package of the series was waiting for you on your desk at work. 

Taehyung runs his hands through your hair, too immersed in his own book. You pull down the novel to your chest and read the title of his book as it hovers above you. 

“The subtle art of not giving a fuck” you mumble. 

Taehyung’s face emerges from behind the book upon hearing you say that. “It’s a very good read” he closes the book.

“I hate non-fiction stuff” you reply. 

“I know” he bends and places a soft peck on your lips. “Listen, I have something to give you” 

“Oh?” you lift yourself off him and slide your legs over the edge of the seats and straighten up next to him. He rummages through his carry on and pulls out a piece of rolled paper with a red tie around it. 

He holds it out for you. “Open it” 

You take it from him, the texture of the paper soft against your fingers. You carefully untie the red string and the paper unfolds partially. You roll it back, eyes widening and mouth dropping open. “Taehyung….” you look at him .

“Do you like it?” he asks softly almost like he’s nervous that you won’t. 

“I- I love it. When did you draw this?” you ask as you look down to admire the art-- rather your face which is staring back at you as a black and white sketch. 

“I had some spare time” you look up to find him grinning at you. 

“No one has ever done anything like this for me” you blink up at him, realizing for the first that he’s done things for you no one has-- he made you a playlist, helped you swim, and now he’s made you a sketch. “Why?” you question softly. 

“Because you’re art y/n. To me you are the most beautiful piece of art. You take my breath away and I am catastrophically and hopelessly in love with you.” 

“Kim Taehyung you… are...” you whisper as you stare at him in awe and disbelief, a smile pulling at your lips. You tug him towards you by the neckline of his t-shirt and then press your lips on his. You kiss him like you’ve never kissed anyone before. It feels like you’re drowning in your feelings for him and the only air you need is the touch of his lips against yours. When you pull back  Taehyung’s ears are beet red, and his lips are stained pink by your lip gloss. 

“I love you too, y/n” he looks at you with a fond look in his eyes. 

“I love you more” you reply. 

He gasps. “How dare you. I love you way more than you love me” 

Your voices fill the air as you continue to argue about who loves who more. 

You had no intention of being the seventeen year old you once were-- the one who could fall in love. But then Kim Taehyung waltzed into your life and made you feel like you were seventeen again. He made you fall in love with all of him. And you would gladly fall for him all over again if you were given the choice. 

Thank you so much for reading. if you liked it be sure to let me know! My ask box and DMs are open :) 

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter f o u r

Jake Newcomb was tall and blonde and probably one of the most sarcastic people you’d ever met. When you were ten, you had told him that if you never married anyone, you’d be marrying him. He took it in stride, really, seeing as you informed him of this decision rather than asking for his take on the matter. 

You liked to think of him as the brother you never had, the one you’d go to for advice or reassurance if he could handle being serious for more than five seconds. He’d probably called you by your name only fifteen times, ever--Smalls had been a mainstay since it’s origination in 2007.

Adam Penter met Jake when they were in nursery school--only a year before they were in the same class as Harry in Year 1. Adam was just as loud and just as funny as Jake and Harry--but he was a much better listener and couldn’t stand the Rolling Stones.

He’d been in and out of relationships with girls the whole time you’d known him, seemingly always with ones who turned him into some type of puddle the second they left him. He was sensitive and sweet and put up a good front: his humor just a shield for his emotions. 

Jake and Adam together sometimes felt like babysitting--avoiding blowouts and roughhousing became second nature when everyone was together.

“M’probably just gonna beat the shit out of him as soon as he gets here,” Jake laughed, his elbows resting on the kitchen table at Adam’s mum’s. The curtains over the window were the same for the last thirteen years: a red and white toile pattern that always seemed to remind you of history class.

“So you’re serious when you say he paid for you ticket?” Jessie’s eyes were kind of wide, she leaned in on the table to stare at you more directly. 

“Yes and I thanked him a thousand times already, very sweet of him, I know.”

“Did he say anything about why he suddenly wanted to hang out with you?”

Adam’s question had no ill-intent, but the words still stung like a skinned knee. 

“No, I dunno--he said he was glad, though, on the plane.”

“Hmm,” Bryn sipped at the beer in her hand, eyeliner thick around her eyes for a night on the town. Holmes Chapel, that was. 

There was never much going on in the sleepy town where everyone knew everyone’s business. Save for the few days before Christmas and New Years when your generation would flock home, momentary pauses on their lives in London or Manchester, a drive up to the countryside to get sloshed at the Red Lion before some quality family time. 

Bryn was leaning against a wall, right next to Adam. As soon as Harry showed up, you’d head downtown. “And you still haven’t talked about it?” 

“No!”  You said quickly, setting your beer on the table with force. “And none of you are going to bring it up tonight, yeah? Cause that’s seriously the last thing any of us need having not seen him in so long.”

They seemed to shrink at that, averted gazes and hunched shoulders as Jake cleared his throat. “S’fine, Smalls. None of us will bring it up and it sounds like he won’t either.”

You hadn’t told them that he’d tried. You didn’t tell them about your emergency trip to the toilet  for a minute to clear your head. 

“And you’re--are you, like--” Jessie treaded carefully, you knew the question she was posing before she could even form a full sentence. 

You cut her off. “No. I’m not. I will not. Let’s leave it.” You were not falling in love with him again. 

Jessie Alby had been your best friend since you showed up at their school at ten years old. She  was bold and brazen and sure, quite loud and energetic, a thick accent inherited from her Northern parents. She’d been dreaming about going back to school, a PhD in Creative Writing. She now had her sights set on being a Uni professor. You couldn’t really picture her in that role, though, not with the mouth she had.

“Oh fucking relax,” she rolled her eyes. “M’just asking.”

Bryn Miller was quite the opposite, really. Poised, posed, and rather posh, Bryn was smarter than the rest of you by far. She started working in finance straight out of Uni and she probably made twice your salary. She’d be running her own company in a few short years, you were sure of it. 

There was a knock on the door, Jessie danced over to open it, revealing a hooded Harry on the front step of the tiny house. His hands were in the pockets of a denim jacket, dressed down in a sweatshirt and black jeans. He offered a wide grin into the house before stepping in from the cold.

“Well hello,” Jessie greeted excitedly, his arms wrapping around her with a squeeze. The rest of them rushed over through the living room, socked feet padding on the brown carpet that had endured one too many alcohol spills in your teen years. You trailed behind, giving them space and time to take a look at him--like parents whose child had just come home from their first weeks at school.

A chorus of greetings echoed through the living room as they all took turns hugging him. Jessie then Adam then Bryn and then Jake. 

“Smallsy,” he offered a two-finger salute in your direction. “Two days no see.”

You forced a laugh and smiled in return, all eyes in the room on you. You shrugged your shoulders. “How’s your mum? And Gemma?”

Adam seemed to motion for you to all follow him back into the kitchen. 

“They’re good,” Harry said casually. “S’good to be home for a bit. Adam, are your parents here?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Downstairs, I think.” He opened the fridge, tossing a beer in Harry’s direction once you’d all reclaimed your seats around the kitchen table.

Of course he’d ask--he’d always been the one friend to make sure he said hello and thank you to whoever was hosting. But Adam’s parents meandered upstairs a bit later when they heard the laughter in response to Harry’s story about he and his sister fighting over the bigger guest bedroom. 

One of the first things Harry had done after the band started making money was buy his mum a new house on the outskirts of town. An upgrade from their townhouse with a small garden, the one where you’d watched scary movies on Halloween and where you did homework at the kitchen table once in a while. 

The new house was set back from the street, almost out of view when you drove by. You’d been only once--beautiful shrubs maintained by a stranger in a landscaping shirt still stuck out in your memory. That was probably the summer of 2012. 

You watched and stayed quiet as Harry reintegrated into the group, his laugh just as loud as it was at sixteen, only now he had a five o’clock shadow and an extra four inches in height. He told them all about your midnight walks through the village--the Pad Thai you’d eaten and the Sara Bareilles concert. 

He asked them about their jobs and their families, nodding thoughtfully as they took turns giving  him an update. You wondered, as the stories and updates unfolded, if anyone else was feeling angry by the way he’d faded out so easily. 

Jake and Adam had always been quick to defend him, even when he royally fucked them over. They’d make an excuse. He’s busy, he’s in a foreign country and doesn’t get good reception. As far as you were concerned, it didn’t matter.

So maybe it angered you a little bit that things seemed to click back into place like puzzle pieces--once apart but never changing shape.  But maybe everyone else was more forgiving because they hadn’t been in love with him when he left. 

**

The inside of the Red Lion was frozen in time. The brick fireplace in the corner always seemed to keep the dim room warm as you threw back drink after drink. Tiny wooden tables were cramped together as always, bodies and chairs spread around the room as music leaked from the speakers overhead.  

You’d all shown up a bit late--a fair amount of old classmates already settled when the six of you walked in from the car park. 

Kieran Chesna, Mollie Amsbury, Kenny Tilley, Maddie Winslow, Amy Goodwin, Michael Waite. Familiar faces greeted you with hellos and how are yous, but you certainly noticed the buzz and the whispers that spread when Harry stepped in behind you, pulling a beanie off of his head when he was shielded from the wind. 

You could only imagine how strange and out of place he must have looked to them all--making a rare appearance as if he was still one of the gang, not an award winning musical artist who had enough money to buy the Red Lion out from its owners. But if he was nervous he hid it well, offering hugs and handshakes to people you’d both known since you were kids. 

 You’d made your own rounds with Bryn and Jessie in tow, getting an update from Amy about her engagement and from Kieran about his sister’s wedding. After grabbing a cocktail from the bar, you sat back down between Jake and Mollie, answering their questions about your work in New York.

“So you don’t ever think you’ll come back?” Mollie smiled up at you, her blonde hair was shorter  than it was last Christmas when she brought a new boyfriend to the meetup. Apparently he wasn’t in the picture anymore. 

A shrug of your shoulders and sip of your drink. “Not here, at least. Maybe London, but it’d take a really good reason to get me out of New York.”

“So cool that you’re writing for The Scoop,” she cooed, resting her chin in her hands. “You’re kind of famous, y’know!”

You shook your head but laughed. “M’not famous--I just have some dedicated readers I guess. And I’m an idiot on the internet, so that helps.”

Jake lifted an arm to pat you on the back, his lips pulling into a smirk as he looked between you and Mollie. “Leave it to Smalls to post her own embarrassing date fails on twitter for the whole world to laugh at.”

You couldn’t disagree--working at The Scoop had completely changed your life in a lot of ways. You were way more comfortable poking fun at yourself, your followers growing each time you shared an article or got into funny quarrels with celebrities on social media.

Your list about the fifteen most embarrassing things about millennial culture really seemed to seal the deal. Your stories were getting millions of views, your inbox was being flooded with messages from strangers, and most importantly, Whitney was impressed and appreciative of the humor you were bringing to The Scoop. 

It was nice to know that your classmates were impressed with your work and the fact that you moved to the other side of the Atlantic, but the excitement in Mollie Amsbury’s face increased tenfold when Harry sat down next to you.

It’s not like there was a competition to see who’d been the most successful as an adult, but if there was, Harry would win. Which was fine. You loved your job. You loved New York and you didn’t need Harry Styles in your life to be happy.

“The album is amazing, Harry, as always,” Mollie’s eyes glazed over, Harry took a sip of his beer before setting it on the table. 

“Oh, thanks, Molls--how’re you, though? How’s work?”

“S’good, s’whatever,” she laughed, her eyelashes fluttering as she offered a coy smile to Harry. Jake offered you a knowing look between them as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Harry was funny like that--there were moments when he hated the attention and wanted nothing to do with it. Some nights he’d show up at the Red Lion and seem annoyed by anyone even mentioning that it’d been a year since they saw him. 

Other moments he ate the attention up, hungry for the reassurance that your former classmates still loved and adored him, despite his long absences and poor communication. 

“Tell me about tour though--so cool you’re doing it all by yourself now!” Mollie was more than happy to give Harry the attention--she still rested her head in her hands, watching the words fall out of his mouth like honey. 

“S’cool, definitely different than being in the band, but s’good. Busy for sure, so I’m glad to have some time off for the holidays.”

A smile pulled at Mollie’s lips, a knot in your stomach. 

“So amazing,” her voice was high-pitched, like a bird singing in the sunrise or maybe a whizzing blender. Either way, you took another sip of your drink. 

You liked Mollie Amsbury. She was sweet and friendly and never gave you any trouble in school. She was just as bad as the rest of them, though, becoming more enchanted by Harry as his net worth grew and suddenly missing him so much more than she ever did before he was famous. 

To save Mollie’s reputation in your mind, you decided it’d be best to do a lap and visit with others. After all, hearing about someone’s job as a cashier would be more entertaining that listening to her gush about how talented and special your friend was. 

“Hi,” you found Jessie at the bar and pulled up a stool beside her, letting your elbows rest on the counter in a sign of defeat. She sat with Adam and Michael Waite--both incredibly enthralled by a video on Adam’s phone, their faces squished together to watch whatever it was. 

“Hi,” she turned to take a good look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you sighed, the bartender took your empty glass and offered a refill. “Just sick of hearing Mollie drone on about how amazing Harry is.”

Jessie peered over her shoulder, a quick glance in their direction to take in the sight of Jake still stuck between them. “Yeah, well, you know how it is,” a sigh escaped her lips, turning back to your before offering a smile. “S’fun, though, to see everyone, right?”

You stared at her suspiciously, eyes scanning her face as the bartender set down a new drink in front of you. 

“What?”

“Why do you want me to be having so much fun?”

“Y/N, just relax, will you? You’re so...on guard about him being around again you’re not even able to enjoy the fact that we’re all together.”

You rolled your eyes, blinked a few times, took a sip of your cocktail and contemplated her words. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. When you didn’t say anything, she kept talking. 

“He’s being fine, okay? He’s normal and he’s not mad about it or anything, so just, relax, okay?”

“He’s never said anything about it to you, has he?”

“No,” she said quickly, “not even last--”

She cut herself off and her eyes doubled in size, her face going white before she bit at her lip, horror washing over her face as you leaned in to lower your voice.

“Last when? Did you see him?”

“I didn’t.”

“Jessie,” you spoke her name calmly, even and controlled as your fingers tightened around the cold glass in front of you. 

She let out a dramatic groan--almost more of a whine--and let her head flop to the side as she grimaced. “We saw him last Christmas--he was home and texted Jake and then, I don’t know, we just tagged along.”

Your jaw hung open, eyes unblinking as Jessie tried to twist her mouth into a smile. “We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d be upset and he asked us not to because he figured you didn’t want to see him.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

Jessie leaned forward to grab your hands, holding them in hers with force. “I’m so sorry--we’re total knobs and you have every right to be mad and we suck, alright?”

“You do suck,” you pulled your hands from her. “You’re liars and traitors and--”

“Why is she a liar and traitor?” Bryn appeared beside you--her hair pulled back into a pony, her glasses framing her face in the dim room. 

“You’re one too,” you said angrily, leaning back to the bar to reach for your drink. You’d need at least three more if you were going to let them off the hook for this. 

“I let it slip that we--y’know--engaged with the enemy.”

“What?” Bryn’s head dipped to the side, her eyes narrowed as she waited for Jessie to explain. 

She looked around the room, mostly to search for Harry. When she located him--now standing with Maddie Winslow and Kieran, she turned back to the two of you. “We saw Harry last year. I told her. She’s pissed.”

Bryn’s face contorted into one of hesitance. “Oh, Y/N, we didn’t--we were just--we missed him, you know?”

“He literally ditched us! Then he shows up in 2015 and lets me make a fool of myself and then you two go engaging with him?” You borrowed Jessie’s word, the two drinks you’d already had lending themselves to the flurry of emotion rising in your chest.

Anger. Betrayal. Jealousy. Guilt. Confusion. On one hand, you were proper pissed. They’d thrown caution to the wind and gone behind your back. They’d lied and kept something from you for a year and as far as you were concerned, you had every right to flip a table or light something on fire. 

But then there was the guilt. They wouldn’t have to lie or sneak around if you’d not been so uptight about seeing him or talking to him or anything in between. Or, realistically, if you hadn’t been such an idiot to begin with. 

The scene in the bathroom played in your head for the ten thousandth time. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his head turned to the side to watch you for a second, but you couldn’t get over the cool tile on your bare skin. 

“Dunno,” you slurred out the word, a whine escaping your lips when he cracked a smile. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He laughed, his finger reaching over to poke you in the stomach. 

“The cute smile thing.”

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged. “You bring it out of me.”

“Why’s she staring off into space?” Adam appeared beside you, leaning an arm on your shoulder, his question posed to Bryn and Jessie as he finished the last sip of his drink. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you pulled yourself back into the present.

“Jessie blabbed that we saw Harry last Christmas.”

You looked up at Adam, his face dropping quickly when your eyes landed on his. “Smalls,” he said your name slowly, apologetically, even. 

“Save it,” you said, pushing yourself up from the stool before hopping down to the floor. “I’ll get over it. I just--I need a minute.”

They watched you walk away, doing your best to avoid Harry’s gaze as you passed him in the middle of the room with Jake and Kieran by his side. You slipped out the front door of the Red Lion, the main street through town still busy despite the late hour. 

You leaned up against the side of the building, thoughts swirling in your head like the wind in the sky. 

You smiled up at him, your lips pulled into a thin line to avoid the smile that so badly wanted to plaster itself on your face. The bathroom was dark, the noises of a muffled party were seeping through the door. Jessie’s laugh, Jake talking loudly over the music. 

But you felt safe in here--secluded and cozy and best of all, it was just the two of you. You turned to look at him quickly. “Why’d you show up tonight, anyway?”

He brought his gaze to the floor quickly. It wasn’t necessary a question you needed to ask. His band was done. Who knew what he’d do next--though you knew he’d figure it out--maybe a quick stop in Holmes Chapel was enough to get him grounded. 

You blinked quickly, forcing out the memory like it was a bad taste in your mouth--stubborn and harsh as the door to the Red Lion opened. Jake appeared in a sweatshirt, a cigarette between his lips when his eyes landed on you. 

“What’reyadoinouhere?” His words jumbled together, a combination of the alcohol and his attempt to keep the cigarette in place. 

“Avoiding you five,” you laughed, anger fading from your veins as he came around and draped an arm over your shoulders, the heat from his body a welcome change from the night air. 

“What’d we do now?” He brought a lighter out of his pocket and held it up to the butt--you lifted a hand to help shield the wind. 

“Hung out with Harry last year and didn’t tell me.”

“Hmm,” he nodded, taking a puff before letting the smoke return to the black sky. “Surprised the girls kept it quiet that long.”

“Me too,” you said. 

A moment of silence passed between the two of you. You were appreciative of the fact that he didn’t try to make an excuse or explain it away. Instead, he took another puff of the cigarette and then looked down at you. 

“Y’know, Smallsy, I do think you should talk to him about it.”

You let a groan escape your lips, a churning in your stomach reminded you of why you hated this particular piece of advice.

“Why do you think that, Jacob?”

“Because he doesn’t care.”

You let out a small laugh, amused by Jake’s level of intoxication but also intrigued by his statement. A few people walked up to the front door--faces you recognized but couldn’t quite name--and headed inside. 

“Why do you think that, Jacob?”

“He told me.”

Smoke danced up from his mouth, swirls of gray against the black sky above. “He told you?”

He nodded, his lips pursing together. 

“Wh--what did he say?”

“He said ‘it was two years ago, doesn’t matter,’” he imitated Harry, his face twisting into a serious grimace with dipped eyebrows. It was a good thing that Jake was some type of Marketing and Analytics pro in London--he didn’t have a future in acting. 

You let out a snorted laugh at his impression--his face immediately delivering a frown, he pulled his arm from around you and took a step back. “Laughing at my impression? I thought it was spot on, honestly!”

“It was shit,” you said simply, folding your arms over your chest before another gust of wind fluttered by. A small Holmes Chapel bus slowed across the street, depositing passengers onto the sidewalk. 

Another puff from his cigarette between words. “I think you’re being a baby about it, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, his tone more serious than before. Your shoulders tensed, suddenly more defensive. “M’not being a baby--you weren’t there, you know. You didn’t see what happened.”

He rolled his eyes. “Heard all about it though from both of you.”

You shrunk at that--silently questioning how Harry’s retelling was different than yours. Did he recount the temperature in the bathroom, hot air blowing from the radiator nearby? 

“It’s so fucking hot in here,” you said suddenly, your fingers working towards the buttons on your shirt. Shiny, silky, green. 

“So hot,” Harry said, his voice lower as he slumped against the wall in the dark. He crawled towards the radiator on his hands and knees. “What is wrong with this thing, anyway?”

He looked up quickly, the corner of his mouth pulling up when you drunkenly slipped the shirt off of your shoulders. 

“Too hot for this,” you said, tossing it to the ground, the buttons making tiny taps against the tile. 

“Alright, s’freezing. Fuck this.” Jake put out his cigarette and tossed it to the ground--you heard Alyssa’s voice in your head about saving the environment, but you didn’t have the energy to fight Jake on his disposal or ask any more questions about the night your life fell apart. 

He took two big steps to the door, held it open, allowing you to cross under his arm. One look around the room to see Jessie and Bryn laughing hysterically at something Harry said--a determined march to the bar. Your card smacked down on the surface. Another drink. 

Two more. 

Then a third. 

Then dark. 

**

You heard the clanging of pots and pans before you opened your eyes. One blink, two, a pounding in your head that felt more like a jackhammer on the pillow beside you than a headache. Grey walls, the scent of waffles--no, pancakes. 

“Morning,” his voice was behind you--stood over the bed as he folded a t-shirt and placed it into a drawer. 

“Jesus,” you flinched at the sound, pulling the sheet up to cover your fully clothed body as you twisted on the mattress to face him. “What happened--why am I here?”

“Relax,” he laughed, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “You didn’t want to go home--said your mum and dad would be livid if you showed up so trashed.”

You let out a breath of air. That was true, really. They would be. Harry padded around the bed and sat down beside you, his eyes steady on your face as you ran a hand through your hair. 

“I just offered to bring you to mine because the rest of the gang was pretty toasted too.”

You got a glimpse of the bar in your memory: Maddie and Mollie both hugging you goodbye, almost tripping over the legs of chairs in the crowded bar. 

You didn’t know if Drunk You was trying to actually avoid an issue with your parents, or if she was really just bold enough to find a way to sleep in Harry’s bed. You shivered at the thought. 

“Need an aspirin? I’ll get you some water, too.” He was up and out of the room in seconds, giving you time to throw yourself over the sheets to reach for your phone on the side table. Composing a message to Jessie and Bryn, you typed furiously. 

Y/N L/N (9:13am): Which one of you let my drunk ass go home with Harry?!

Jessie Alby (9:13am): GOOD MORNING BEAUTIFUL. 

Bryn Miller (9:13am): You were a mess and he offered. You should be thankful, not angry!!

You rolled your eyes, tossing the phone back to the mattress when he reappeared. 

“Here,” he said, handing you a glass half full, a tiny red pill in his hand. You took it, threw it into your mouth, and took a big gulp. He took back the glass and placed it on the night table. 

“I’m sorry--I hope I didn’t, you know, say anything stupid.”

He laughed, a small smile before he shrugged and shoved his hands in the pockets of his joggers. “No--s’fine. I offered, really. Wanted to make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit,” he gestured down to a plastic bag on the floor, immediately causing a flush to rise your cheeks. 

“Great. Wouldn’t be the first time,” you forced a laugh. He smiled at that--less tension in the room than moments prior. 

“My mum’s making breakfast downstairs--Gemma’s here too. M’sure they’d love to see you.”

“They don’t think we, like, did anything, right?”

“I slept on the couch downstairs, so, they’re aware of that.”

“Good.”

He stood there for a second, silently watching as you licked at your dry lips. You didn’t remember throwing up or falling down or anything, so aside from waking up in a bed that wasn’t yours, last night seemed like enough of a success. 

“I’ll, uh, get dressed.”

“Right,” he nodded, heading out of the room to shut the door behind him. 

An exhale when you were alone. 

You remembered the fifth drink--the last, you were sure. Jessie and Bryn had followed you into the bathroom and Mollie walked in on you taking obnoxious selfies. She joined in and then, suddenly, Jake staggered in. 

I thought this was the men’s room, he laughed, before posing for a photo as well. 

When you stood from his bed and looked down at the clothes on your body, you realized they were his. A pair of sweatpants he’d had forever--Holmes Chapel Comprehensive School stretched down the leg in maroon lettering. A black t-shirt, advertisements from local banks and shops on the back, from his Year 9 footy team. 

You found the pile of clothes from the night before--a ball of dark colors on a chair in his room. Luckily, they were versatile enough to be worn in the daylight. 

It wasn’t how you expected to see Anne and Gemma after so many years--you’d imagined that maybe it’d be at someone’s wedding, hugs with cocktails while you caught up. Instead, it was over pancakes and coffee and in the comfort of their own home. 

They were thrilled to see you--Anne didn’t even seem to mind that you ended up in her home due to your staggering lack of decorum. When she hugged you and pressed her cheek to yours, she smelled like honey and whispered in your ear, so good to see you, love. 

It was fine, it was nice. You’d always liked his mum and sister and, after sweating out a hangover in Harry’s sheets, you were starving. But that didn’t stop you from bolting out the door as soon as the plates were cleared and the washing up was done. 

If you had to sit in the car beside him while he drove you home, the least you could do was get it over with. 

“Hey, whoa, Y/N, what is up with you?” His voice was loud enough for you to hear it over the morning wind, you turned quickly, unaware he’d even followed you out the door after you’d said goodbye. 

Your lips parted, nothing but a breath emerged. You looked around the front garden--hedges and grass and a cloudy gray sky. “I just--I feel bad, I didn’t mean to impose.”

“You’re not--I don’t,” he paused, cut off by the shutting of your door as you climbed inside his car.

“What?” You asked when his opened, he shook his head and pushed the key into the ignition.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like all of this is so weird. Like me being your friend is so weird.”

“Because I don’t know how to be that with you anymore.”

His shoulders slumped. He let out a sigh and then started the car. “Maybe we don’t have to be friends.”

“And do what? You’ll fade out again like last time, like both times, and we’ll just pretend all of this never happened? Why do you just get to decide when you get to be in my life? Who made that rule? S’not fair.”

He turned to look at you from the driver’s seat, hesitant, like direct eye contact might make you explode. He put a hand on the wheel and put it in reverse. “I know I’ve fucked up, I’ve said it, like, a bunch over the last week. But you won’t talk to me about it. You won’t even allow me to even begin going there because, what, Y/N, you’re embarrassed? You’re still so caught up about that night that you won’t have a conversation with me?”

You kept your eyes on the winding road once he pulled out of the driveway. “I tried, Harry. I tried to have conversations with you before you left and I tried that night and maybe if you just didn’t suck at being a friend we wouldn’t be doing this right now,” you motioned around the car--black leather seats and black carpet beneath.  

“Well maybe if you weren’t so stuck in the past you’d wake up and notice we’re in the present, okay? Things don’t have to always be the same as they were back then! Jesus, I mean--”

You held up a hand to silence him. He stopped. The radio hummed in the background and the heat puffed out of the vents. 

“I never should have said anything to you that night. I shouldn’t have even talked to you because I was mad that you left and I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry that I went and made it messy--

I was drunk and it was two years ago and I don’t feel anything I said anymore.”

Quiet. 

“You don’t?”

“No.”

You didn’t really buy it, but you hoped it sounded convincing. 

The door was still locked. He pulled at the knob again but it didn’t give. He turned around and looked at you--a drunken smirk on his face before you could even speak.  

“If I’m locked in a bathroom with anyone, m’glad s’you.”

Maybe he said it because you were shirtless--but the four gin and tonics you had liked to believe otherwise. 

“Ditto.”

He didn’t say anything until the car slowed in front of your house. You unbuckled the seat belt before he put it in park, the only sound was the beeping from the dash, angry that one of you was unprotected.

“Smalls.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not going to disappear again. Promise.”

“Okay.”

Your heartbeat slowed with the shift in the energy. Just like always, your heart didn’t know  whether you hated him or loved him, but with the headache and nausea that was setting in, you figured now wasn’t the time to decide. 

“Let’s do something for New Years, yeah? With everyone.”

You nodded--the five of you had been doing it together forever, it was just always a crapshoot as to whether he’d show up. “Sure, yeah.”

The door shut behind you and your mum waved from the door at Harry--who offered a smile and wave in return before pulling back onto the road. 

You typed out a message to Bryn and Jessie. 

Y/N L/N (11:03am): I shouldn’t have ever thought we could be friends. 

**

You were sure he wouldn’t show up. More sure than when you were sure you failed a chemistry exam in Year 10 and more sure than the time you knew Jake was going to royally fuck up his date with Laura Dalton. 

In years past he’d spent the new year in London--in clubs, no doubt, with alcohol and women and other celebrities who were much too cool to be sipping on vodka in someone’s parent’s basement. 

The plaid pattern on the couch was straight out of the eighties--the cushions on which you sat were older than all of you. Jessie appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a bottle of rum. “Who wants one?” She asked, her voice excited and lilting as she made her way over to you.

“You need one,” Bryn answered for you, her eyes narrowing in on your permanent pout. 

“I’m fine.”

“Right, and I’m straight,” Bryn laughed, her eyes rolling so far back in her head you were sure they’d disappear. 

Jessie let out an obnoxious laugh as she reached for a red solo cup. She poured a mouthful of liquid in and handed it to you. “Drink.” She ordered.

The wood paneling on the walls had heard many secrets and giggles over popcorn when you, Jessie, and Bryn had tried to fall asleep at slumber parties. Like the time Bryn took a deep breath and admitted her crush on Penny from her science class. We know, you and Jessie had smiled, excited that she’d finally just come out with it. 

“I still feel like shit from before Christmas.”

Jessie gave you a dismissive glance, Bryn was enamored with her phone. “You had Christmas eve, Christmas day, and the five days since to recover. You’ll live. Your liver has practically regenerated by now.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” you told her, squeezing your eyes shut before tipping the cup back to your mouth. A harsh taste--swallowed. Bryn was watching you when you opened your eyes.

“So--you’re done with him?”

“I’m done. There’s no point.”

“And what did he say again?” Jessie plopped herself down on the carpet, terribly eager for all of the details in person before Jake and Adam arrived.

“That I’m stuck in the past.”

“Prat,” Bryn let out scoff. 

“He has a point,” Jessie widened her eyes at you. You shot her a look that made her course-correct. “I just mean I think it’s good for you to close the chapter. You’ve spent a long time having feelings for him and maybe it’s just time to let it die.”

You sighed, she was right. “I should have never even talked to him that night--and I said that! I told him I regret it and that I was drunk and I don’t feel anything now that I said I did.”

Jessie tilted her head to the side. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Y/N,” Bryn lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m trying not to,” you confessed.

Jessie let out a sigh. “I vote you get drunk tonight and ignore him if he shows up and who knows--maybe we’ll go to the Red Lion if people head that way and you can make out with Michael Waite.”

“M’not making out with Michael Waite.”

“I’d make out with Mollie Amsbury,” Bryn said. 

“We know,” you retorted quickly. “No one’s making out with anyone. We’re staying here.”

“Fine,” Jessie said, her phone buzzing on the carpet beside her. “Adam’s here.”

She disappeared up the stairs, Bryn plugged her phone into a cable and played music throughout the room. When Jessie descended the stairs--two at a time out of excitement--she was trailed by three people, not one.

Adam. Jake. Harry. 

Harry, Jake, Adam. 

Jake greeted you and Bryn with a smile and hug, speaking over his shoulder to Jessie, who’d reminded them all that they were welcome to spend the night. Her parents were out of town to see her older brother, they’d return the next morning. Bryn opened up some snacks, Adam set up a dart board on the wall. 

“Let’s talk later, yeah?” Harry spoke to you quietly, his back turned to the rest of them while he poured a drink. 

“About?”

“Us.”

“Us?” You didn’t know there was an us. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Maybe.” You said. 

He walked away, leaving you to wish that refilling your drink would erase the tension and the awkwardness. As if drinking more would make it less likely to come up. So you did what you’d grown used to over the last two years. You avoided him and did your best to act like you weren’t secretly watching his every move. As if twitter didn’t suggest his username when you opened the search function--or like your discover page on instagram wasn’t littered with pictures of the boy who walked home with you in the rain in Year 8. 

And you thought you were getting away with it. You both drank more and Jake seemed to get more and more competitive over the current game of darts he played against Bryn. So when you felt it was safe, you wandered upstairs to find the bathroom on the other side of Jessie’s parents’ living room.

The same blue carpet sat in front of the toilet--the crime scene of your first drunken night at 15. 

You wiped your hands on the towel, the flush of the toilet muffled noises from downstairs--it was close and you knew it. You weren’t about to miss the countdown and the cheering, the midnight shot of whiskey that usually left you on the floor. 

You opened the door, ready to race down the stairs to find them all excitedly crowded around the television. Instead, the living room was dark, but Harry stood in the middle of it, the blue light of a small telly let his figure glow. 

He had on the same show that you could hear floating up from the basement, but the show in front of you was muted. A busy scene in London unfolded--crowds and cheering as people waited for 2017 to exit. 

“What are you doing up here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“I don’t think now is a good time,” you said, motioning to the growing excitement on the screen. Neon pink numbers flashed in the corner. Thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight. 

“I’m sorry that things were a mess two years ago. I’m sorry it was such a--”

“Terrible night?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “We were both really drunk.”

You stared at him, the room going silent just like the plane had. Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen. “I’m sorry I made things awkward.” 

He shook his head. “You didn’t, Smalls, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you--if you’d listen.”

Thirteen, twelve, eleven.

A shrug of your shoulders, you glanced back at the telly. “We should go down there.” 

“We could stay here.” He took a step closer to you.

Your stomach seemed to get warm and for a second, you feared it would happen again. You could still feel your palms pressed to the floor, holding up your weight that night.

“I wish you still did feel the way you said you did two years ago,” he said.

“You do? Why?”

Five, four, three.

Instead of answering your question, he shrugged, looking over to the telly as confetti blasted over everyone on the South Bank. Noise erupted from the gang downstairs and Big Ben chimed loudly through the basement speakers.

“Always thought we’d be good together.”

“What?” You stuck your head out, unsure if you’d heard him correctly or if the two drinks you’d had were landing heavily on your still-recovering liver. 

He shrugged. “S’fine, though. I--I guess I missed my chance. I get that.”

“What the fuck are you two doing up here? It’s 2018!” Jessie flipped the light switch on quickly, her eyes going wide when she assessed the lack of space between you. You looked down, also unaware that somehow, you’d brought it down to a matter of mere inches.

A giant step back. “Coming down, sorry, I peed.”

“In the bathroom? Or out here?” Jessie’s face twisted into one of inebriated confusion.

“Yes in the bathroom,” you grunted back at her, a laugh escaping Harry’s lips. 

“We’re good, yeah?” Harry offered a hand between the two of you, to shake as if you’d finally closed a deal.

“Oh,” you looked over to Jessie, hoping she’d get the hint that now would be a good time for her to leave.

She didn’t though, she stared at both of you with a happy and drunk smile on her face. 

“Yeah,” you said, reaching forward to let your hand meet his. “We’re good.”

read the other parts here

AN: Thanks to everyone who has been sharing my excitement about this fic!!! Thank you for the messages and the love and for just READING IT!! Definitely some more hints in this chapter about The Incident. I hope you’re all excited to CRINGE over the full flashback.

tag list:  @clorenafila​ @ainsleesolareclipse @castawaycths @harryspirate @wanderlustiing @ursamajor603 @thurhomish @omgsharry @jdcharliewhiskey @stepping-into-the-light @rachkon​ @jdcharliewhiskey @sad-little-asshole  @shawnsblue​  @gendryia​ @g0bl1nqueen​  @laula843​  @flooome​  a-woman-without-a-plan @awomanindeniall​  @shaw-nm​ @staceystoleyourheart @ohprettylittlemind​ @anssu-amry​ @my-fandomful-life​ @stylesfantasy​ @bookingbee​  @mleestiles​  @haute-romance-quotidienne​ pinkpolaroidgirl craic-head-horan 

[to-the-disco-kiszka]

The Boys and a Woman

Summary:  An older woman is signed on as a sketch artist to tour with Greta Van Fleet.  A woman living on a bus with four young rock stars, what do you think is going to happen?

Note:  Sort of a different storyline than most of the works I’ve seen out there.  I hope you enjoy it.  It’s a bit of a slow burn but the build up is going to be worth it, I promise.

The boys were chilling out at their hotel after that evening’s performance.  Josh wasn’t feeling the beer tonight so he went down to the bar in the lobby to get himself a salty dog.  He downed one while sitting at the bar, and got a second one to go.  He was wandering back up to their suite when he noticed the door to a nearby room was ajar.  He glanced into the room and saw it was the artist chick.  He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk to her yet but she had made quite an impression when she was introduced to them earlier in the day.

………………………………

She stood in the doorway of the dressing room, ‘Mind if I crash your party?’  Their tour manager had told them about her, that they were bringing in an artist to sketch them in action.  ‘I’m Andi, the artist chick.’  She was short, sharply dressed with blonde hair piled on top of her head.  They thought it would be the typical photographer/magazine/radio station/interview/meet and greet.  Same generic questions, same generic shots.  A generic blur.  But just by her presence they could tell this was not going to be typical.

Danny was sitting on the arm of a couch while Sammy was bouncing off the cushions, neither one of them with a shirt on.  Jake was in full regalia sitting across the room, strumming on his acoustic.  Just then Josh came around the corner in full costume, a sparkly colorful jumpsuit.  Andi smirked.  ‘The Ice Capades called.  They want their costume back.’  For a full second there was dead silence.  Then the rest of the boys erupted in laughter while Josh stood there looking hurt.  He pointed towards Jake, his twin, ‘What about him?  He’s wearing an Ice Capades costume.’  She looked Jake up and down. ‘He’s got more of a matador thing going on. With that sleeve length and open chest and bedazzled shoulders.  Even the scarf tied around his neck.  Oh yeah, definitely matador.  As long as you don’t spear innocent animals,’ she looked at him directly.  Jake, who was beaming over his new status, gave a slight shake of his head.  Josh points to Sam and Danny on the couch, ‘What about those two dim-wits?’  Andi replied ‘Well, word on the street is those two can do anything and people love it.  They’re just sexy as hell,’ she said in all seriousness.  And just like that she had won over Sammy and Daniel.  

‘Do you want us to, like, pose on the couch or something?’ asked Jake.  ‘Oh no, you do your thing, I’ll do mine,’ she replied.  She sat off to the side of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible.  She dug out her small sketch pad.  She took in their costumes, the colors, the cut, the embellishments.  Their long hair.  Their choice of this evening’s footwear.  Or lack thereof.

……………………………

Andi is sitting on the bed, her long blond hair swept across the back of her neck and her shoulder, cascading down her chest, almost to her stomach.  She’s in pajama pants and a t-shirt, wearing her glasses.  She’s dividing up a bag of peanut M&M’s and Mike and Ikes into piles, which are sitting next to a big bowl of kettle corn.  Josh gives a quick knock on the door and pops his head in a bit.  ‘Is this an open display of obsessive compulsion disorder?  Or are you counting your stash in a new currency I don’t know about?’  She looks up from her candy and, seeing Josh in the doorway, gives him a big smile. His heart flutters a bit.  Andi seemed genuinely happy to see him.  She says, ‘It’s all about proportions and you don’t want too many of one kind left at the end.  It’s a delicate balance of combining the M&M’s, Mike and Ikes, and the popcorn in your mouth all at the same time.  You get a different taste if you put the candy in your mouth first and then add the popcorn, then if you do popcorn first and then add the candy.’ She pats the bed next to her, indicating he needs to come and try this life-changing concoction for himself.  

He notices Pulp Fiction is playing on the TV and makes a comment that it’s one of Tarantino’s best films, but not the best.  She says it’s in her top four movies of all time. Intrigued Josh says, ‘Which begs the question, what are the other three?’  ‘Wow,’ she grins.  ‘That’s like looking into one’s soul.’  She’s about to start listing them off but then furrows her brow.  ‘Wait, no.  There’s five. I think I have five favorite movies. Five is so much better than four. I mean it’s an odd number so naturally it spices things up.  Spicy is fun.’ He got quite a chuckle out of this.  Just then her attention is drawn to the TV.  Vincent and Jules are in the boys’ apartment, having just tasted the Big Kahuna burger.

Andi:  Did you know they drop the f-bomb 265 times in this movie?

Jules: The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by inequities….

Josh:  Did you know that’s not what Ezekiel 25:17 is in the bible?

….I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger….

Andi:  Did you know Tarantino adapted this from some 70’s Japanese remake.

Josh:  Oh my god. I can’t believe you know that.  I love you.  Marry me.

…..And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.

Josh and Andi both make gun fire sound effects when Vincent and Jules unleash their furry on the guy. She falls back on the bed laughing. He looks down at her with that gorgeous smile he’s known for. And just like that Josh was smitten.

The next afternoon they were back at the arena preparing for their second show.  Jake was wandering around the venue after sound check.  He went down a hallway where there was a door marked ‘Not An Exit.’  He pushed the door open and stepped out into the sunshine.  He was greeted by an unexpected site.  

It was the artist chick, Andi.  Other than being in the dressing room with them before the show last night he hadn’t really seen her.  Her blonde hair was wrapped up and secured at the nape of her neck and she was wearing big vintage sunglasses that went with the vintage jumper she was wearing.  Jake was terrible with ages but guessed she was in her 30’s.

She is squatting on a crate, bent over a flat surface resting on her lap.  She was sprinkling green into paper shaped by her fingers.  She shimmied the paper with both hands, which shimmied the weed into a perfectly dense roll.  She licked the paper and tapped it vertically on the flat book she had on her lap, making sure everything was in its’ proper place.

‘Hmm, you struck me as more of a vaping type of girl,’ Jake smirked.  Actually he didn’t even peg her as someone who would enjoy the herb.  She had a quick response to that.  ‘Fuck that millennial vaping bullshit.  No way.  Pack me a bowl and pass me the pipe.”  She looked down at the joint she was about to light.  “Or roll it, lick it, and put that paper between my lips.”  And she did just that, lighting it up.  Jake wasn’t expecting any of these words to come out of her mouth.  She just seemed too… mature?  For the smoking and the swearing.  An enormous grin takes over Jake’s face.  Andi looks up at him with her big sunglasses, smiling and passes him the newly lit joint. And just like that Jake was hooked.

After taking a long drag he says, ‘So how does one sketch four guys in constant motion on stage?’ he ventures.  ‘Not that easily,’ she laughs.  She takes the sketchbook from her lap and hands it over to Jake.  ‘They’re just first run sketches.  Working drawings.  Nothing pretty.  Just trying to get the feel of it all.’  He raises his eyebrows, ‘Feel of it all?’  She looks at him, ‘Of you.  And your brothers+.  Your instruments, your costumes, your body language, the lights, the smoke, the angles, the movements.  The hair. It’s a lot to take in,’ she grins.

Jake couldn’t help but smirk at that. He passes her the joint back.  He peels his eyes away from hers and opens the sketchbook.  He didn’t know what he was expecting but this wasn’t what he was expecting.  They were definitely rough drawings but just the quantity of them is notable.  He thumbed through the pages taking in all the images of himself, Josh, Sam, and Danny.  The sketches weren’t very detailed but yet they each conveyed a definite image of an instrument, a costume, body language, lighting, smoke, an angle, a movement, hair.  There were several candid views of them in the dressing room from yesterday.  The colors were intense, alive.

Jake looked down at her, ‘This is amazing.  How do you do this?’  After exhaling she says, ‘Smoking weed is fun.  Sketching is better.  Smoking weed while sketching is the best.’ And just like that Jake was hooked beyond a doubt.

There was a buzz in the air that evening as everyone rushed about setting up for another spectacular Greta Van Fleet concert.  Andi nervously stood on the side of the stage, wondering if the boys even got nervous anymore.  

As yellow ambient lights and blue spot lights and smoke filled the stage Josh, Jake, Sam, and Danny launch into The Cold Wind.  The crowd erupts.  She loves the tone of Josh’s voice when he does the ‘hey!’ and ‘hoo yeah!’  It hits just right. She puts her pen to the paper and doesn’t put it down until they play their last note and the lights go down.

After the performance everyone was backstage, boisterous with drinks in hand.  Jake and Sam were sitting on a couch while Josh sat on the arm talking to someone, Danny nearby.  There were lots of young attractive woman around.  Andi was anxious to talk to them.  Josh was the first to see her approach and he jumped off the couch to welcome her over.  Jake smiled at her, ‘More first run sketches?’  She reached for her sketchbook, which is much larger than the one for her working drawings.  ‘I brought the big guns out tonight,’ she smiled back.  She opened up the sketchbook.  The drawings were much more defined than her first run sketches.  There was a half dozen drawings, each one a solo shot of one of the boys.  She had a distinctive flair.  It was something of a throw-back style, like before there were computers.  Each drawing was dated and labeled with the song, the venue, and the city.  

  But she was really betting it all on Danny.  One, because he is the easiest of the four boys to capture on stage.  It was going to take time for her to encapsulate the essence of Josh, Jake, and Sam.  As sexy and powerful as they were on stage, their movements were erratic and complicated to be able to put down on paper.  And secondly, let’s face it.  Danny is the most underrated and least photographed of the four.  Which is a real shame.  He’s sexy as hell.  She thought if she could put a new light on him and make him just as alluring on stage as the rest of them, they would see what she could do for them.

It was larger than the other drawings.  It’s Danny on his drumkit, arms cocked, hair flying.  Colorful stage lights crisscross the background.  The colors are deep, drawing you in.  The left edge of the drawing is a faint outline of Josh, microphone in hand, head back.  His back, leg, and hair subtly create the edge of the drawing.  The boys and a couple people from their management team that were nearby were all jockeying for a better view.  There were ooh’s and ahh’s and pointing and compliments to artist and subject.  And just like that Andi was signed on for the rest of the tour.  

That evening after the show the tour manager was giving her a tour of the bus.  There was a front lounge area with a large tv and couches with various instruments strewn about.  There was a large three-sided booth between the lounge area and the kitchenette.  Then the bathroom and through an automatic door was the crew’s bunkhouse.  It consisted of twelve bunks each with a privacy curtain and individual lighting.  

The tour manager was a bit of a mumbler as he was giving her the low-down on everything.  All she caught was ‘the only bunk’ and something about unique situation.  Walking past the crew’s bunkhouse and through another automatic sliding door to the boys’ bunkhouse she was greeted by Josh, Jake, Sam, and Danny.  Each of them with a shit eating grin.  They held out their arms gesturing her towards the only unoccupied bunk.  She stood there a moment with her jaw on the floor.  And then she tipped her head back and laughed before letting out a low throaty ‘Fuuuuuccckkk.’  The boys of course thought this was hilarious.  

Yeah, this isn’t going to be weird at all.

[linernotesandseasons]

My 19 Favorite Albums of 2019

       2019 is coming to a close. The entire decade is coming to a close. This list has been an increasingly comforting exercise the last few years. I guess this will be the eighth annual version of the linernotesandseasons favorite albums of the year list! Crazy how time passes. So here are the collections of songs that I used to mark my personal time & space this year. The lyrics that I learned by heart & sang out in dark & dirty rock clubs. I also made a spotify playlist with two songs from each album if you’re interested in listening along as you read. 

This year most of my writing focuses on when & why I fell in love with a specific album. Sometimes the history is important, building a base or connecting some threads, so when relevant, I have also included my history with when I fell in love with a specific artist. And finally, as has become more important to my music chasing brain in the last few years, why this artist or album is important to music right now. What they’re doing to leave a mark on the world, in whatever small space or way.

So without any further ado, here it is, in no particular order (unless you’re particularly knowledgable or fond of the english alphabet) my 19 (well actually 20 cuz freaking Big Thief put out two!) favorite albums of 2019. It’s been a pleasure.

BETTER OBLIVION COMMUNITY CENTER   /   Better Oblivion Community Center

    Spring 2019 in Denver was cold & breezy, sunny & exciting. I had spun the Phoebe Bridgers/Conor Oberst match-made-in-indie-emo-sad-folk-heaven record once through, but in late March I made a game time (like I bought a day-of ticket off stubhub at 6pm!) decision to drive down from work and see their show at the Gothic on South Broadway. I’d been up since 7am the night (morning?) before, watching opening day baseball live from Japan (on March 20th?!). Ichiro’s final game and I was feeling maybe a little emotionally fragile already. But anyway… Better Oblivion Community Center’s live show (they call them meetings) has all the potential to come off as cheesy or contrived. A recorded voice welcomes you, self-help-cult style, and invites you to “celebrate sound & light” & “travel the well worn pathways,” because “we are one.” A mystical backdrop gives a hint of what you’re in for (I didn’t know what I was in for...) with letters at the top reading “It will end in tears.” The band is brilliant, loose, & fun. They play all the songs. They play “Lua,” “Bad Blood,” & “Easy/Lucky/Free” from the endlessly varied Bright Eyes catalog. They turn Phoebe’s “Funeral” into a punk blast. They cover The Replacements! They wear shades and sing a song from lawn chairs! The show feels effortlessly cool and I feel like I’m part of something special again. Music has a way of doing that.

The record is perfectly equal parts Phoebe & Conor. From the opening lines, where Phoebe takes control with “my telephone it doesn’t have a camera” sounding for all the world like a gloriously mopey “Smoke Signals Vol. 2″ to the way Oberst sings the first lines of ethereal closer “Dominoes” sounding 100% like Cassadaga-era Bright Eyes. If you know & love either, you should know the other now. Phoebe carries a torch from early 2000′s emo with a sad-at-heart, genius songwriting style that emphasizes pinpoint autobiographical lyrics, a cutting, (even humorous at times) wit, and a teenage, feminist, internet, millennial heart. Oberst for his part has kept up a steady output since Bright Eyes, and (at least lyrically) doesn’t seemed to have cheered up much. Better Oblivion Community Center’s self titled debut feels fresh & catchy. While there is definitely an aching sadness in the duo’s songwriting, light hearted moments abound, and the writing often points to getting older, all hard work & growth. There is the bouncing outro to “Sleepwalkin’” where their voices rise in unison singing “Acting insane, playing it safe, I wasn’t sold on that plan anyways. Feeling afraid of making a change.” Or in the bright, rolling verses of “My City” where they go looking for “little moments of purpose.” But the one song I kept going back to; the one I recorded to cassette tape and played on almost every drive home from work at 4am through April & May, is the bittersweet closer “Dominoes.” Ironically, this one is a Taylor Hollingsworth cover (I think that’s him adding the random, spooky voice overs) but Conor takes the lead on vocals, singing a mostly lonely, hopeless tale, until the last verse when Phoebe cuts in. She’s “carpooling to kingdom come, into the wild purgatory.” Encouraging us to “Experience a magic rainbow, all you gotta’ do is follow. & if you’re not feeling ready… There’s always tomorrow.”

    “The world will not remember when we’re old & tired / We’ll be blowing on the embers of a little fire…”

BIG THIEF   /   U.F.O.F. & Two Hands

       2019 was the year that I finally finally got really really into Big Thief. A band’s band known for their live show (I still have yet to see them live) their following seems equal parts cult-y and universal. How a band that sounds the way they do, made it almost to the top of the indie-rock world is an exciting & inviting mystery.

This year, for me, the catalyst was “Cattails.” Released at the beginning of April, this song struck me and stuck with me, making its way onto almost every mix I made last Spring, Summer, & Fall (including this one for my Mom!) A real song of the year contender (& my #1 most listened to song of 2019 on spotify!), “Cattails” is a melodic, driving, beautiful tune, that finds singer & front person Adrienne Lenker marking Time (”riding that train in late June”) & Space (”going back home to the great lakes”) with grace & depth. There is a sacredness & mysticism tied up in a lot of Lenker’s writing and she refers to her writing experience with “Cattails” saying…

“It was one of those electric, multicolored waves of connectivity just sweeping through my body. I stayed up late finishing the song and the next morning was stomping around playing it over & over again. We thought why not just record it … & when James and I were playing it felt like a little portal in the fabric had opened and we were just flying. Listening back to it makes me cry sometimes.”

In truth, U.F.O.F. (the last f stands for “friend,” a way of humanizing the foreign) is a gorgeous record. Soft & gentle, full of songs about the constant tussle between things known & unknown. A real headphones-on-an-airplane record. And then, out of nowhere, Big Thief announced that they had a second (!) record on the way in the Fall. A dirt & earth twin for U.F.O.F., a special surprise gift for their burgeoning fan base. They announced Two Hands with the vicious single “Not,” a song very unlike “Cattails.” A brooding, ravenous rock song that made me remember why I love unhinged, well-written, unafraid rock & roll music. Another song of the year contender. If you’ve followed this blog the last few months, my well thought out comments to “Not” were “ohhhhhhhhhhhhh shit” & “oh my holy shit.” to the live version! But it was actually the second track on Two Hands that solidified Big Thief’s greatness for me. “Forgotten Eyes” is sonically similar to “Cattails” and rides the same effortless rhythm, driven by Lenker’s repeating guitar riff and James Krivchenia’s consistently impressive drumming. The riff seems to fall in & out magically, and the writing bookends “Cattails” with lyrics that speak to both a great pain & a great universal truth. While she wanders through homelessness & death, Lenker reflects beautifully on the life cycle we (& our planet, & maybe everything?) are all going through.

    “Forgotten dance is the one left at birth / Forgotten plants in the fossils of earth / & they’ve long passed but they are no less the dirt / Of the common soil keeping us dry & warm / The wound has no direction / Everybody needs a home & deserves protection…”

BLACK BELT EAGLE SCOUT   /   At the Party With My Brown Friends

    After finding Black Belt Eagle Scout’s debut album late last year, I soundtracked many a dusk, dawn, or midnight drive with her swirling vocals & entrancing guitar, usually in the cold & dark, through the early part of 2019. It made my 2018 favorites list, and her Larimer Lounge show in May was a highlight. I guess it makes sense then, that I didn’t truly fall for her sophomore album At the Party With My Brown Friends (released in August) until it got cold in November and I was able to take it out for some dark, snowy drives. Moody & serious at times, Black Belt Eagle Scout sounds every bit like the gray Pacific Northwest where front person Katherine Paul (KP) hails from. The lyrics are simple, repeating phrases, full of deep, important ideas. Family & friends. People & land. There are bursts of guitar coming out of rewarding slow builds, shredd-y, rhythmic, & melodic. Also, all the instruments on ATPWMBF are played by KP, and the drumming is fucking fantastic.

I have some sort of longer form writing building somewhere in the back of my mind about listening to music in cars, and both Black Belt Eagle Scout albums are perfect examples for that. I have always loved the feeling of having roads (highways or simply long straight dirt back roads) & music to listen to. In high school, we would sometimes get in the car simply to drive & listen to music (small town life ya know?) and I still relish any chance I get to take new (or old & long loved) songs & albums on road trips or just commutes around town. The time to sit with the songs, to focus on nothing but the words & melodies, instruments & voices, & the pull of the road, mystical & magical. Black Belt Eagle Scout’s songs have been a calming companion on a lot of drives over the last year, and I recommend you taking them out on a spin of your own. Drive to that coffee shop that’s 30 minutes away that you’ve been wanting to go to, drive out of town just to drive, alone with your thoughts & the road. You just might learn something about yourself.

    “& I wake up / I love you / Screaming loudly / Screaming softly too / Am I here? / My heart dreams…”

BON IVER   /   i,i

    Bon Iver is a long time favorite and if you’ve followed this blog at all, you know how much I love his albums and how much Justin Vernon’s Eaux Claires festival has helped shaped my musical timeline. Seeing 22, A Million (the record that precedes i,i) live in Wisconsin by the river for the first time, was something special. That record made my 2016 favorites list, but until this year, until i,i, my story of the music felt very insular. Special & secret for me, confined to very specific times & places. Only to make me feel certain things. It’s why I was hesitant to buy a ticket to see the Red Rocks show last September. Or why I questioned streaming the album early while I was on vacation in Holden Beach, North Carolina. I thought the songs were only meant to carry me back to the river, back to Wisconsin, back to the Summer. Back to a very specific, special place in my heart. But thanks to the wonders of spotify, and the Bon Iver crew just up and releasing the album a week early under the simple & generous guise of “wanting folks to have the album & learn the songs before the tour!!” I obliged and… YESSSS that’s how you do an album release in 2019! I had the album in my headphones as I ran and sweated on the beach in North Carolina, letting brand new songs transport me thousands of miles away.

i,i is a gloriously weird, perfected mess of a hit indie record. It’s everything I wanted the next chapter of the Bon Iver story to be. It feels personal & widescreen. Little moments stretched out and shared with family & friends. Lyrics about growth & hard work & life (& a few WTFs, it’s Bon Iver after all!) The gang’s all here again (the massive crew that worked on the album are all pictured on the record’s gloriously, weird inside gatefold!) recorded from Vernon’s home (April) base in Wisconsin, to Sonic Ranch in west Texas (also pictured in the liner notes) walking distance from our southern border. The sounds are all here again too. There are hints of For Emma’s Winter falsetto folk in the gorgeous acoustic guitar of “Marion.” There are the industrial swells & stomps, bleeps & bloops of bi, bi’s Spring in the warbling, green grass, warmth of “Holyfields.” Then there is the distortion, the choppy samples of 22, in the jigsaw glory of “iMi,” the way it starts & stops, all choruses & voices, real & programmed. Threads of new songs tied up with threads from long, long ago. There is a fullness to i,i, a generosity, a true front to back album, with hits & new favorites sprinkled everywhere. The second half blooms with the charging folk of “Salem” & “Faith” and the contentedness of closer “RABi.” These are songs that I will love for years to come. These songs make me happy. They make me think. They make me want to share them with friends. They make me want to work on relationships. Songs about life. Songs about true, unconditional friendship. As Justin said way back in 2015, when my journey with the Bon Iver story began “The story is history, nothing more. Only the music can rise anew. & it is gone as soon as it is sung. & so we sing again…” I am soo soo happy to sing again, with songs anew.

    “Living in a lonesome way / Had me looking other ways / Cuz I am lost here again / But on a bright Fall morning I’m with it / I stood a little within it…”

EARTHGANG   /   Mirrorland

      EARTHGANG’s major label debut Mirrorland comes in hot & dancing, a hip hop duo with a true tribute to Southern culture, and a whole world encapsulated in 14 tracks. My personal introduction to the EARTHGANG universe, came courtesy of a dusk till dark dance fest at Denver’s Underground Music Showcase on South Broadway back in sweaty July. Their energy was infectious, their stories hilarious, & their songs stuck in my head. Specifically the Young Thug featuring “Proud Of U,” a song that carries enthusiasm & positivity through to the end. Other standouts include colorful, bouncing opener “LaLa Challenge,” & the squealing horns of Atlanta hot spot, name dropping “Wings.” A concept album of sorts Mirrorland references “The Wiz” as a jumping off point saying,

“We thought about how, if we’re going to make a project sonically to rival The Wiz, we got to create another world for people to imagine & go to. You know when Dorothy got swept away and she met the Munchkins? That was such a beautiful thing. You could see Quincy Jones on the piano, just playing away. It’s really colorful. It’s really dangerous. It’s really trippy. It’s literally Freaknik Atlanta in the summertime—folks riding around in cars with big rims with paint on their faces.”

EARTHGANG was formed in 2008 by high school buddies Johnny Venus & Doctur Doc in Atlanta, GA.  It’s impossible to ignore Outkast comparisons and for their part, EARTHGANG does their best to keep up the Southern hip hop tradition. Mixing in bits of soul, blues, & jazz, Mirrorland plays like an homage, a soundtrack to the South. A real reminder that the album is not dead. These songs sound best played together. Also, that the hip hop group, or duo, is not dead. And finally, that touring and playing live shows is most definitely not dead. I probably still wouldn’t have heard about EARTHGANG if it wasn’t for their primo UMS slot (at the same Import Mechanics stage where Leikeli47 & Kiltro played!) and infectiously positive live show. Speaking of their live show, see y’all at Cervantes on February 3!

      “One time, one time for your baby moms / Two time for the hand in the candy jar / Holy Ghost showed up in my favorite thong / Three times in the car for the way we are / Another white man scared, another black man dead / Another rich man war, another red man bled / I been writing this album down way too long / When I drop my shit, pray it hit the toilet like lala, lalalalala...”

FRUIT BATS   /   Gold Past Life

    In the Autumn of 2013, my coworker Cassandra Disney at Mile High Organics played me “When You Love Somebody” by Fruit Bats (had that song already been out for 10 years in 2013?!) on one of her early morning work mixes, and I immediately put it on one of my favorite (if embarrassingly bro-folk heavy) mixes I have ever made myself. Discovering a weird/cool indie band in the vein of all my other loves (Band of Horses, The Shins, Modest Mouse, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, etc…) but more underground (!) was hipster heaven. I subsequently forgot about Fruit Bats for awhile, but was reminded with their graceful “comeback” album Absolute Loser in 2016. Although that one missed my favorites list, it gradually became a constant road trip companion; from the mountains of Colorado, through the great American Southwest, and even on some epic Mexican back roads. All alt-country, lost 70′s AM radio classics, and wistful, witty, & wise writing about highways and scenery. A true classic.  

I was therefore super excited for Gold Past Life (Fruit Bats’s seventh album?!) to drop on Merge Records this Summer, and fell in love pretty quickly on a late afternoon drive across the high road between Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico back in late June. Swirling guitar, bouncy piano. and Eric D. Johnson’s piercing, clear, impassioned vocals. Fruit Bats sound timeless & effervescent. Upbeat guitar rock with some weird twists, and Johnson’s consistently bittersweet, humorous, & big hearted lyrics. Growing up, growing older, & grinning a wry smile at a golden world. After catching back to back beautiful Fruit Bats shows in Fort Collins & here in Denver at the Bluebird this September, these folks are the real deal. Long live touring bands, long live seventh albums, long live music marking time & space! Here’s to many more Fruit Bats albums, Gold Past Life will be car stereo classic for awhile.

    “Still waiting around for some mystical shift in the winds / So honey please, don’t go just yet / Cigarette fingers, a shake in the knees / A bit blue, kind of tired, but not broken… Anticipating a magical bend in the road / So hang on, take it slow / Your go bag is packed & your hangover gone / Another dawn at the edge of the known world…”

HISS GOLDEN MESSENGER   /   Terms of Surrender

    Durham, North Carolina’s Hiss Golden Messenger (folklorist, family man, & singer-songwriter MC Taylor & revolving crew) have become something of a mainstay on this music blog & in my car’s cd player over the last five years. I picked up a used (!), advance (!) copy of Lateness of Dancers in the $1 bin at a record store in Seattle, Washington. after having been passed a burned copy of his 2010 solo album Bad Debt by an old coworker. Lateness ended up on my 2014 favorites list. Two years later, Heart Like A Levee made my 2016 list, and the next year, Hallelujah Anyhow was one of my favorites of 2017! I referred to the songs on Hallelujah as Hiss “building a repertoire, creating a legacy.” This may seem like quite a bit of superfluous backstory, but believe me, it is essential to the story, a journal of the journey. Geographic art for a topographic heart if you will. But anyway, Terms of Surrender…

The title is cryptic, referencing (as Taylor puts it “what we are prepared to sacrifice in order to live the lives that we think we want”) and the songs are deep (& growing deeper) & timeless. Not so much timeless in the way Yola’s songs sound timeless (skip down a few albums on this list to read about Yola!) but timeless in the way the songs seem to seep their way into my bones and stay for years. Terms burst on the scene with the release of the first single “I Need a Teacher” back in stormy June. With bright, rolling guitar stabs courtesy of The National’s Aaron Dessner (whose upstate New York recording studio was home for the Terms recording sessions), “Teacher” is about “the search for infallible guidance in an ever-changing universe.” but it is also about everyday work. Dedicated every night of the tour to all the teachers in the room, a political statement wrapped up in the seemingly obvious sentiment of “Defend Public Schools.” See what I mean? Timeless songs written for the here & now. “Bright Direction” & “My Wing” are reminiscent of Hallelujah’s “Jenny” & “Darkness.” a 1-2 punch of driving, drifting major key numbers, written from a hillside in Virginia, high on mushrooms. They contain multitudes. With a murky middle (Brad Cook gets funky on “Old Enough to Wonder Why” & “Cat’s Eye Blue”) & the already canonical Hiss’ live fav “Happy Birthday Baby,” the back half of Terms spreads out the Hiss’ sound in new ways. New live favorite, the nostalgic “Down at the Uptown,” had me googling maps of San Francisco to find the mythical Uptown bar where Taylor first heard Patti Smith’s Horses.

In late October, Hiss played an absolutely glorious three night run at little Globe Hall over in Globeville, just Southeast of where Interstate 70 meets Interstate 25. I went to all three shows. The shows were special & career spanning; from “Jesus Shot Me in the Head,” to Dead covers (& a Jesus & Mary Chain cover!) to all the Terms songs.  I spent the Saturday afternoon before show #2, walking around the disappearing & rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in & around Globeville (& drifting across the highway into Sunnyside) listening to Terms of Surrender on my headphones. Thinking about the things I’m willing to sacrifice, thinking about the life I want, what are my Terms? After all, “It’s a real live world & I wanna live in it.”

    “Something drove me crazy / Love had me lazy / Backwards won’t get me to my destination / Move me in some bright direction / Looking to be captured, looking for my freedom / Oh, dreams will come to get you / So careful what you’re wishing / Your family might correct you / Your heart might take a pounding / Make sure you take a picture…”

JUNE JONES   /   Diana

    I can’t remember where I first heard of June Jones, but I’d like to think it was from one of my many Australian music friends (thanks Camp Cope, Julia Jacklin, Middle Kids, Courtney Barnett, Gang of Youths etc…!) The music community is a wonderful thing. June’s songs can be hard to explain, but Diana is an epic album that burns with a steady, stately drama. Most of the songs ride swelling synths and measured, 80’s sounding drums and center around June’s unique, emotive voice and head turning lyrics. Jones had fronted the Australian rock band Two Steps on the Water and written songs on the guitar for many years, but it’s pretty clear from listening to the writing and sound on Diana that these songs were meant for piano, synth, and a solo album. Her own writing. Her own words.

The album begins with the brooding “Rome From Afar” and the opening line “I got drunk again last night & I fell down outside the bathroom at my little sister’s party.” It then follows a dancing bass line into an apocalyptic nightmare of a world ending. “Meryl” is a gorgeous, autobiographical (?) song, an ode to “complicated” hard working women everywhere. There are parts of Diana that nod to it being a break up album, like in the gorgeously melancholic “Boulder Falling Slow” (”I am a boulder falling slow / You’re a magnificent spiderweb”) but I have been viewing it as just a complex, everyday life album. Jones lets her magnificent voice trail slowly over seemingly uncomfortable or awkward topics that she strives to make… not so. Sorry Alex Cameron, your “eating your ass like an oyster” line in “Miami Memory” is only the second best “eating ass” line this year after Jones’ “Look at You Go!” Her voice often belies the emotion in her lyrics, she works it up & down, and lets it stretch out over words, like in lonely closer “Sixteen Horses,” but she also sounds almost matter of fact at times. There is a moment in the piano led “Thorn” where she glibly throws “Have you seen the moon tonight? No, me neither, who cares about the moon when everything is dying?” over an understated horn trill. Everything is dying after all, but I want June Jones to sing it to me like an Australian Lana Del Rey or Matt Berninger. Trust me, you’ll be hearing more about June Jones in the coming years. Watch out.

    “I haven’t thought too much about family / Ain’t got no husband or a couple of kids / I’ve spent 26 years in this office / I said goodbye to my relationships a long time ago / What does the mayor of a small town heart do after she retires?”

JUSTIN PETER KINKEL-SCHUSTER   /   Take Heart, Take Care

     My long time music friend Adam over at songsfortheday had been trying to tell me about Justin Peter Kinkel-Schuster for quite a few mixes with songs I loved from his 2016 release Constant Stranger. But it somehow wasn’t until I needed Take Heart, Take Care, that Schuster’s work hit me right. It didn’t feel like a light at the end of the tunnel, but more like a light in the tunnel, something lasting, a collection of songs lifting up & out towards a light. As Schuster wrote upon it’s release…

     “Here, I’ve fumbled my way, as always, and of necessity, into a collection of songs that hold a light to the joys & comforts of life not given up on, those that appear over time as we are looking elsewhere, to surprise & delight us when we need them most. Sure, it’s me, so there are glimpses of and nods to the dark, but the dark is not winning anymore. I simply mean to acknowledge its presence. To me, that’s the most fundamental job of songs, of stories, of all art — to be allies, friends, companions, when we need them most and it’s my hope that these songs can do that work in a world that seems to need it. If you are lucky enough to have something good to say, say it. Please. We’ll thank each other, now & later.”

So i guess it’s that second part that I have found solace in through my 20′s and into my 30′s. That songs (and stories & all art, but songs & albums seem to be my thing) can be allies, friends, & companions, and that sometimes (like Hanif Abdurraqib wrote in his brilliant collection of essays “They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us”)…

     “If you believe, as I do, that a blessing is a brief breath to take in that doesn’t taste of whatever is holding you under: say I Speak To God In Public and mean more than just in his house, or mean more than just next to people who might also speak to God in public, or say God and mean whatever has kept you alive when so many other things have failed to.“

Take Heart, Take Care is a straightforward, well written, indie rock album. The songs ring true with light & darkness, an uplifting take on growing older and finding “Plenty Wonder” still to be found in the world. Schuster played the Hi-Dive on South Broadway in November, the last show on the Take Heart tour. A show I had bought tickets for months in advance, and I found myself in a crowd of maybe 15 people, celebrating the songs of Take Heart, Take Care. Listening to a writer with something good to say. Trying all in our own way to hold our own. I have a feeling I’ll keep these songs with me for awhile.

     “Time is the mender / Whose strange mechanics yet untold / Bid us rise entwined together / So take heart, take care / Be true but beware / & honey we need not be scared…”

KARA JACKSON   /   A Song for Every Chamber of the Heart

      In only 10 minutes & 42 seconds, Kara Jackson creates an intimate, magical world with just her voice and a guitar on her debut EP A Song for Every Chamber of the Heart.  Four intricate & intentional songs, none longer than three minutes, finger picked slowly & methodically, Jackson balances a poetic, whimsical wandering with a steely focus on the craft of songwriting. These are the bones of songs, played honest & upfront, with no adornment. There is room for Jackson’s lyrics to really shine, all aching & wistful, yet practical. Like the way she balances “I have a crush, I have an ache” with “I know that love’s just a pain in the ass” in the bittersweet “Crush.” Her songs buzz with a youthful energy & teen angst. Wise beyond their years, finding their way in the world. As a songwriter and a poet, Jackson writes about race, activism, social justice, self, bodies, & humanity.

At 20 (!) years old, Chicago’s Jackson is... oh also a poet. The 2019 National Youth Poet Laureate (!) in fact, and it was her absolutely breathtaking writing about being a teenager that first caught my attention. She quotes Gwendolyn Brooks (pulitzer prize winning American poet) in her Ted Talk saying “write what’s under your nose.” She says that Brooks took the mundane and put it on a pedestal. That she understood there are “poems in train cars, poems on front lawns, & poems in microwaves & tea kettles.” An almost obligation to celebrate the ordinary. Ordinary folks celebrating similar ordinary folks. It’s the way that John Darnielle howls on The Mountain Goats song “Werewolf Gimmick” (track nine on 2015′s Beat the Champ) about “nameless bodies in unremembered rooms.” In his prerelease essay for Merge Records, music writer Joseph Fink wrote that the entire career of The Mountain Goats has been about “giving names to nameless bodies and remembering unremembered rooms.” and what a worthy cause that is. That thought has stuck with me for years and I have always loved the specificity of it. Whether it is Darnielle resurrecting historical characters real or fictional, or the way Lady Lamb (keep reading a few more albums down!) celebrates the specifics of her friends & family, in all the messy details. Written in song, remembered forever. It is also essential that all cultures have artists who look like them and think like them, as the ones doing the remembering.  It’s why it’s so important that Kara Jackson is the one doing the remembering for young black girls. The same way Eve Ewing did for her, and Gwendolyn Brooks did before that. I can appreciate the magic of the remembering, but I need to let them be the ones to tell the stories. Oh, speaking of appreciating, I bugged Jackson enough on social media and got a handmade PHYSICAL copy of the EP that I’m hanging onto forever cuz it’s probably gonna be like the next original pressing of Bon Iver’s For Emma! Thanks Kara!

      “Don’t take my pillowcase, that's my place to be alone / Don’t take my lamp from me, it helps me read about places I don’t know / Don’t take a lot for me to be on my own...”

KILTRO   /   Creatures of Habit

      My end of the year albums list usually has at least one local Denver band. The Lumineers way back in 2012, Gregory Alan Isakov & Covenhoven in 2013, Nathaniel Rateliff, Covenhoven (again!), & The Yawpers in 2015, Nina de Freitas in 2017 (hey Nina & the Hold Tight, new album in 2020 please?!), and Izcalli last year. Kiltro is a part Coloradan, part Chilean folk band that have been putting on one of my favorite live shows around town this year. The brainchild of Chris Bowers-Castillo, a native Coloradan who spent time growing up in Valparaiso, Chile, Kiltro is named after the Spanish word “Quiltro” meaning a mixed breed dog. A dog that Kiltro has taken for their logo. In their own way, Kiltro is a mix breed; both in the way they mix the sounds of South America with the folk music of North America, and also the way they mix organic, acoustic instrumentation, with electronic, looping sounds and effects pedals. Their live show is a masterclass in layers, with Bowers-Castillo adding loops of guitar rhythms (sometimes simply bare hands slapping beats on the top of the guitar) to steady bass & drums, until the songs swell & build into dramatic crescendos and almost EDM-influenced drops. The extended intros & outros are my favorite parts of their songs and the live versions (from their sweaty 2pm UMS dance party, to Lulu’s Downstairs in Manitou Springs) have stirred hearts & feet alike with dancing not usually found in the Colorado “indie-hipster” scene. Keep an eye on these guys and maybe come out to Larimer Lounge in January and witness the dance party for yourself!

      “Somewhere down the bank where the dogs go / Por la calle que te lleva a Curicó / & down the beach, where no others can find / Ni por agua, piso, coche, ni avión...”

LADY LAMB   /   Even in the Tremor

      As I have been writing this year’s favorites list, I’m realizing that so many of the albums I loved & learned, came hand in hand with experiencing the artist, and specifically that new album, live. Lady Lamb released Even in the Tremor, her masterful & moving third album, way back in April, and I had a Spring-y three weeks to learn all her intricate, visceral lyrics to sing back at her Larimer Lounge stop in Denver on the Deep Love tour. Maine by way of Brooklyn’s (by way of a bunch of other places) Aly Spaltro has always written songs for Lady Lamb like her hair’s on fire. Wailing & gasping about blood & guts & death over spiraling electric guitar, there is a realness to her writing that reminds me of the east coast emo I grew up on. But for all the blood red gore & messy heartbreak that colors much of the Lady Lamb discography, there is a light hearted tenderness as well. Tremor has songs written for & about friends, lovers, parents, & god. Quirky opener “Little Flaws” is a first-dance-worthy love song, while personal favorites “Strange Maneuvers” & “Emily” are odes to platonic friendships, mental health, & growing up. In the same way I wrote about Kara Jackson celebrating the ordinary, Lady Lamb has always celebrated specifics of people, time & space. Tremor’s characters are Spaltro’s real life people (Emily, Shervin, Kurt (Kurtie Bear), Isaac, & her Mom), and the places (the diner, the batting cage, Templehof Park, Midtown, Berlin, Montreal, Madrid, a fast food joint, the stage of a church, someplace upstate, Lavanderia & Graham Ave) are specific, varied, & globe spanning. Her stories are autobiographical and rewarding and the music is stirring, singer-songwriter rock & roll with some punch behind it. She is one of my favorite modern writers for her ability to not just tell a story, but to find wonder in the small things and to celebrate the ordinary. Like she tells Shervin, minutes before “Emily” closes the album on a gorgeous, uplifting high note, “No photographic artifact, but here is something better than that.”

      “There’s a picture that I found, my first car in the falling snow / Seems like yesterday I drove down into low tide / & Isaac snapped a polaroid of me pretending I was sinking, pressed against the glass pleading / I misplaced it but I’m looking... / When we are young, if only we could see beyond our fears where we are free / When we are lonely if only we could know that in our stillness we are growing... / All the portraits we collected, while we were running around in the desert / We were trying to seem fulfilled to rewrite our New York City narratives / But Emily we were utterly dejected / We took turns crying on the passenger side of America / Too clouded to be empowered by towering Redwoods... / When did we lose the ancient truths? / Is it what we’re born bending our bodies toward?...”

LIZZO   /   Cuz I Love You

      For much of 2019, Lizzo could be heard playing everywhere. The 31 year old Minnesotan’s third full length album Cuz I Love You, came out in April, after a busy three years of huge singles, consistent touring, & building a repertoire of songs capable of headlining arenas. When Lizzo finally exploded these last few years, it has been fun watching the whole world embrace her uptempo, bold, self-love anthems, and hearing them blaring from open Subaru windows in Cap HIll, from balconies & rooftops in uptown, and on the lips of countless joggers & bikers, loving themselves in the Denver Summer sun. I know for my part, I took Lizzo with me to the beaches of North Carolina & through the Southern mountains of Colorado, dancing, singing, & gleefully giggling along. Bottom line, the songs on Cuz I Love You are FUN! You try not to crack a smile as Lizzo romps through “Never been in love before, what the fuck are fucking feelings yo?” on the bouncing, brassy, vocal led, track one title track MOMENT. Or the way she makes up the word “accessorary” on the spot (“my ass is not an accessorary”) and then fires back with “Yeah, I said it, accessorary!” Lizzo has been an outspoken supporter of our generation’s version of the self-love, body positivity movement, and has put her money (and body) where her mouth is, inspiring legions of teens & twenty somethings to do the same. “Soulmate” is a loner anthem that finds Lizzo belting “True love ain’t something you can buy yourself / True love finally happens when you’re by yourself / So if you by yourself, then go and buy yourself another round from the bottle on the higher shelf.” The soulful slowdown “Jerome” is about being the bigger person and ending a relationship that isn’t working. Lizzo manages to actually address her own issues, focus on the work she needs to do (“I’m trying to be patient & patience takes practice.”) and still absolutely belt a singalong chorus that rhymes Jerome with “take your ass home.” Also, the deluxe version of Cuz I Love You tacks on three previous Lizzo singles that hadn’t found an album home. Those singles? “Boys,” “Truth Hurts,” & “Water Me.” Three songs totaling almost 555 MILLION plays on Spotify. With apologies to Ariana Grande & Billie Eilish (Billie see ya in a few months at the Pepsi Center!) Lizzo is the biggest superstar that I want on this list. And she 100% deserves every bit of it.

      “If I’m shinin’ everybody gonna’ shine...”

ORVILLE PECK   /   pony

      There is an appealing, theatrical quality to the dramatic country songs on Orville Peck’s debut record Pony. I spent my high school years growing up in small town Western Colorado so country music has been embedded in my brain since I was 11. I’ve gone through so many phases of loving it, hating it, loving it ironically, nostalgically, hating it for it’s sound, cheesiness, backwards politics, etc... But with Pony; these are true country songs written by a gay, masked cowboy anti-hero from.. Toronto? Maybe? Who is Orville Peck?!?! It’s like all the best parts of “country” music came together. And the mask? The fringe? All the packaging & theatrics? It makes it fun. Part Bowie, part Coheed & Cambria, part Grace Jones, part Ghost, part Brandon Flowers. Hollywood meets Vegas meets Carson City.

When I listen to Orville Peck’s songs it brings together so many feelings from my youth. From country radio & boxes of old country cds, to the dramatic side of theatre, play acting on a stage, dress-up, halloween, cowboys, loneliness, & the open road. From the tumbleweed roll & mournfully powerful coyote howl of opener “Dead of Night,” to the shoegaze rumble, autumn ride of “Winds Change.” Peck’s lyrics are honest & heartfelt, drawing on sweeping, western imagery, & idolizing the classic country ideal... the cowboy. Music marks time & place and Peck makes sure to reference the cities along his highway songs. Salt Lake City, Las Vegas, Carson City, Kansas, a veritable Rand McNally road map of the American West. In the same manner as both Black Belt Eagle Scout albums, Fruit Bats, & Caroline Rose from last year, it wasn’t until a highway drive that I truly fell in love with Pony. It was a brilliant November sunset & still warm, but windy & changing, and we knew we had to hustle to beat the snow back to Denver. Highway 159 from the Southern Colorado border through Costilla County, on the way towards Fort Garland & then Walsenburg. Purple & Orange out the window to my left, Winter on it’s way. Peck’s songs sang with a heartache... a loss. a rhinestone loneliness that country finds a way to revel in. When “Kansas (Remembers Me Now)” statics out like a long lost FM radio. When “Hope to Die” fake ends at 3:30 and instead key change pivots like a washed-up Broadway starlet, shooting her shot on a dusty jukebox. When “Nothing Fades Like the Light” draws its last, peaceful breath, closing Pony like the last light of that November sunset. Thanks Orville, this one’s a classic.

      “Fell in love with a rider / Dirt king, black crown / Six months on a knucklehead hog / I like him best when he's not around / He gets me high, oh, big sky... Fell in love with a boxer / Stayed awake all year / Heartbreak is a warm sensation / When the only feeling that you know is fear / I don't know why, oh, big sky...”

RAPSODY   /   Eve

      Rapsody’s third album Eve is a masterclass on rap music, and the Snow Hill, North Carolina rapper sounds relaxed & loose, while still staying focused & on topic with an album that reads as, as Rapsody herself puts it “a love letter to all black women including myself.” She is at the top of her game right now, and these songs cement Rapsody as one of the premier rappers in an exciting field of rap talent both young & old.  

Each track on the album is dedicated to one of Rapsody’s personal heroes, and I am going to focus these words & my research for Eve (besides listening to it nonstop, which I’m currently doing now!) on those black women. Track one is for Nina Simone (”without Nina there’s no Lauryn Hill, & without Lauryn Hill there’s no Rapsody.”) and features critically important verses about black heritage & culture over Nina’s terrifying & sobering classic “Strange Fruit.” Rapsody is recognizing her legacy and the importance of heritage, but she is clearly claiming her spot in that bloodline. “Cleo” preaches standing up for yourself over a Phil Collins sample (between Cleo & Lucy Dacus, “In the Air Tonight” is getting some serious love this year!) and is named after Queen Latifah’s character in the 1996 movie “Set it Off.” From there Rapsody recognizes artists (Aaliyah), philanthropists (Oprah & Michelle Obama), actresses (Whoopi), athletes (Serena Williams & Ibtihaj Muhammed), writers (Maya Angelou & Reyna Biddy), models (Iman & Tyra Banks), and historical figures & activists (Hatshepsut, Myrlie Evers-Williams, Sojourner Truth, & Afeni Shakur). Bottom line, ALL of these women are essential google material (you’re reading this on your phone or laptop, google and give yourself a five minute refresher if there’s anyone you don’t already know!) While you’re at it, google the lyrics for Eve (and Jamila Woods’ equally incredible, equally name dropping LEGACY! LEGACY!) and listen along. This is an important time capsule document for Rapsody and it’s just a damn good rap album.

      “I am Nina & Roberta, the one you love but ain't heard of / Got my middle finger up like Pac after attempted murder / Failed to kill me, it's still me, woke up singing Shirley Murdock / As we lay these edges down, brown women, we so perfect...”      

SABA LOU   /   Novum Ovum

      When I listen to Saba Lou’s intoxicating sophomore album Novum Ovum, I am transported to somewhere magical & different. Maybe older, maybe out of place & time. Everything about Novum feels… classic. From the dusty, record-store-bin-find look of the out of focus cover photo, to the laidback natural way Saba Lou seems to dance along on top of a rollicking house band lifted from the 70’s. There are elements of surf rock, shoegaze, late night soul, and classic rock & roll on Ovum, but it is all driven by the singular writing & vocals of Saba Lou. In the liner notes of the record, a note can be found, claiming that this album is meant to be from the future. 2286 to be exact! Is a concept album?! Is it actually from the future & delivered to us by a time traveling band of Germans?!! Does it have songs about Star Trek??!! Maybe, mayyyybeee... & YES!

Yet to turn 20 (!), Saba Lou is a German born singer songwriter who has been making & releasing music since she was literally six years old! Novum Ovum is Latin for “the new egg” and features a hot four piece full band, and wonderfully fleshed out songs that bounce and swing with palpable energy. The lyrics span an awesomely wide spectrum from endometriosis pain (the title track obv) to a Star Trek mindmeld tune sung from the perspective of Gracie the pregnant whale (closer “Humpback in Time”)!! All in all, Saba Lou is an absolutely electric songwriter and her youthfulness & fervor are contagious. It’s the reason I love making this list every year, and what makes discovering new music so exciting. Can’t wait for the next one!

      “A brick wall around your placenta / Cut them all off from her mother blood / The hounds call for appassionata / A phoenetic paste for the fetal bud...”

SHARON VAN ETTEN   /   Remind Me Tomorrow

      Over the last few years I started the practice of making a draft favorite albums list in January and adding albums throughout the year, as I fall in love with them. This way I don’t forget the ones I loved in January & February, the ones that got me through the backend of the Winter. I’m able to track my year in music as it develops, a sort of captain’s log. A living, personal journal using music to mark time & space as I sprint my way through another increasingly faster, increasingly chaotic year. Sometimes, scrolling through the list acts as a comfort. “That album only came out this year?! OK, this year isn’t moving too fast, that feels like forevvverrrr ago!” Sometimes it helps to show me how much I’ve grown, how much an album has meant, or has helped with my mental & emotional growth. This year, the very first album I added to that list, the very first album that I fell hard & holy hell in love with... was Sharon Van Etten’s Remind Me Tomorrow.

A blast of energy. A weird synthy, pulsing red & blue darkness. Simultaneously club-y & indie rock vibey. Van Etten’s fifth album is supposedly written from a place of contentment. A marriage, a child, a life & happiness discovered. Less desperation, more introspection. I hear in her voice & words, how taking care of yourself, how striving to be your best self, can bring out the most powerful, most emotional art. She also isn’t afraid to let her voice go and I think her vocal performances are what truly take Tomorrow to another level. “Memorial Day” rides a haunting vocal loop & tumbles in nearly wordless, glimmering vowels, all ethereal magnificence. The chorus of the brooding “Jupiter 4″ spirals upwards & then rollercoasters, a late night drunken banger. But at the heart of Remind Me Tomorrow sits one of my songs of the year, one of my songs of the decade, “Seventeen.” I had heard it first live, way back in October 2018 in the rain in the mountains at Red Rocks. I got tipsy & wrote about it the day it came out, January 8, 2019, after a long, cold stretch working the night shift. This album & especially this song will stay with me for a long time. Sharon has taught me to keep working on myself. To look back in fondness. To think about how, with hard work, how much joy & peace & comfort await in my coming years. But she also taught me to lean into emotions. To embrace the ache of memories and the bittersweetness of growing up. Thanks for making this album Sharon.

      “Downtown hotspot, halfway up the street / I used to be free, I used to be 17 / Follow my shadow around your corner / I used to be 17, now you're just like me / Down beneath the ashes & stone / Sure of what I've lived and have known / I see you so uncomfortably alone / I wish I could show you how much you've grown...”

TIM BAKER   /   Forever Overhead

      I have a special feeling tied to the collection of intimate, swirling songs Tim Baker released this year from Canada. Forever Overhead carries a certain small town holiness, recognizable to those who grew up in small towns , but specific to his own personal, north-north-eastern-eastern “small” town, St Johns, in Newfoundland & Labrador, Canada. Growing up on the farthest coast of the Atlantic on the tippy, tippy point of Canada (seriously google it!), Baker fronted emo band Hey Rosetta! for four albums until striking out this Spring on his own with Arts & Crafts Records. There is a very Springsteen-esque bent to the way he writes about growing up somewhere (as someone) small & wanting to be somewhere very big and exciting. He captures the bittersweetness of growing up so perfectly. From the teenage romantic feelings in swaying opener “Dance” & the rousing “Mirrors,” to the friends & bars & singing found in the melancholic “Spirit” and the absolute hit “All Hands.” The latter is the core of the album, a bright, rhythmic guitar number that builds & swells with voices & instrumentation to a few huge, singalong choruses. A real song of the year contender. Baker isn’t afraid to let the songs go on journeys on Forever Overhead and they rarely finish where they begin. Horns & handclaps burst in at points, celebratory & fearless. The sexual tension of “Strange River” is lightened with a false start and a “sorry. In ‘D’” followed by a belly laugh, before restarting. The light & dark are present throughout Overhead and listening to these songs remind me of growing up. I feel like I’m being given a secret glance into Baker’s youth and the parts that mirror mine make me want to lift my voice in unison with those that understand. Sometimes small collections of well written & well played songs can do that, and to me... it’s sacred. Hopefully I get a chance to visit St Johns someday, and if I do, these songs will be playing as my soundtrack.

      “A boy in bed, all the windows wide / You can hear the hot rods running from the light / From the light, into the dark / That's all I wanted in my cousin's car / To listen to the wind & to the lead guitars / & feel the reckless running of your heart / Now is that gone or does that all remain? / Can I go back and have it all again? / Well now I know it, where I'm going / I'm going back behind the river / I'm going back behind the rain / Cuz no matter where you're heading / You end up where you’ve been...”

YOLA   /   Walk Through Fire

     It’s clear from the first minute & 30 seconds of Yola’s debut full-length Walk Through Fire, that this album is destined to be an all-time classic. She comes in slow & wistful with “wish I knew what you were wishing for...” over a soft wash of cymbals and mournful country-soul guitar. Then one minute in, her voice swells to gigantic proportions, seeming to lift the song right off the page, carried into another stratosphere, timeless & magnetic. That “Faraway Look” in your eyes.

From there, Yola (36 year old Yolanda Quartey from Bristol, England) takes her commanding voice through bluesy, fiddle-led country (”It Ain’t Easier” & the title track), and laid back soul (”Shady Grove” & “Deep Blue Dream”). Personal fav “Ride Out In The Country” became a backroads, summer anthem for me this year on multiple trips through Southern & Western Colorado. Through it all, her voice booms, whispers, & rocks gently, propelling the songs forward with warmth & light. Her lyrics are full of both dreamy memories & work-a-day stories about the challenges of life. It was fun this year to have different friends & family members get into Yola at different times, getting texts like “have you heard of YOLA??!!” Sharing songs, & collections of songs (like the ones on Walk Through Fire) is what makes making this list every year so fun, and I’m always excited to see what new, life-long favorites I will discover. See you in a couple months at the Bluebird Theater on Colfax here in Denver Yola!! Can’t wait!

      “A little shady grove / A memory long ago / A tale too old to know the ending / I gave it all away / It takes my breath away...”

[keybladeofsteel]

I was tagged by @bklynmusicnerd95​ who always tags me in that good shit!!

A-age: 29

B-birthplace: Philadelphia 

C-current time: 9:10 AM

D-drink you last had: Tea 

E-easiest person to talk to: My husband

F-favorite song: Right now it’s Hey Pretty by Poe. Totally forgot how much I loved that song. 

G-grossest memory: Doing study abroad in London and having to share a bathroom with however many girls where there was always period blood and poop stains. 

H-horror yes or horror no: Horror yes!

I-in love: irl, Jason.  In phake love with random characters that can’t disappoint you like actors lmao. 

J-jealous of people: Not anymore tbh. Now I tend to see people I wish I was like as inspiration. 

L-love at first sight or should I walk by again: Better walk by again.

M-Middle Name: Victoria...

N-number of siblings: One but he doesn’t really exist to me. 

O-One Wish: To pay off my cards and mortgage.

P-person you last called: My mom to ask her something on Sunday.

Q-question you’re always asked: Always something about my hair. What’s the color, is it real, does this product work, why did I make it curly again after having it straight for a week (major eye roll at that last one)

R-reading anything right now: Reading Frankenstein for the first time. These days I’m always reading something. 

S-song you last sang: Smooth by Santana and Rob Thomas lmao

T-time you wake up: Between 6 and 6:30

U - underwear color: Hot pink with white polka dots.

V - vacation destination: Going back to London now that I have some confidence.

W- when was the last time you really laughed: Sunday. My household is foolish.

X-x-rays: I actually can’t remember the last time I had to have x-rays done. 

Y-your favorite food: Either oxtail or some kind of creamy shrimp pasta. 

Z-zodiac sign: Pisces. 

I’m tagging @millennial-falc0n​ @eveningoutwithyourgirlfr13nd and @killinguwithumbrellas

[throughthedirt]

Season 1: Chapter Nine

Previous Chapter — First Chapter

Miles

It didn't matter that I was just shy of turning 44 years old. The University of Oregon campus was nearly 300 acres of property housing nearly 23,000 students from around the world. Sure, the majority were teens and young adults, but there was no shortage of older individuals seeking education. More so, I didn't have to be a student. I could be a teacher, a maintenance worker, the IT guy, even a fuckin' janitor. For all anyone knew, I belonged here. And the way I walked through those grand, window-framed doors - people knew. I had a purpose. Showing no signs of hesitation, fear, or confusion, I waltzed my way throughout the campus. For nearly an hour, I roamed the campus freely and without even batting an eyelash to any other person. I was mostly ignored by those who did notice me. But for most, it was like I didn't even exist - just like the rest of them. I was just another body in a mass of humans. But I was here for a reason, and that was to fulfill a job and keep a promise; an agreement that got me freedom in 6. Kyle Turner. Kyle fucking Turner. "Fuckin' football prick raped my niece and got off scot-free," as Correctional Lieutenant Dave Ward would say. The very first words of his that changed the course of my history at Oregon State Pen. And I had read the reports, the articles, the media frenzy - all in prison. I knew what he had done, and he was guilty. But a fully-paid scholarship and a hell of a lot of "hush-money" got him nothing. Not even a smack on the wrist. He walked. Went free. And Ward's niece? Well, things didn't go so great for her. Fearing him, she refused her admittance into UofO, afraid she would see him again. So the fucker had to die. And now it was finally time. 

Approaching the glass doors of the Performance Center, I made a fatal mistake. Reaching my hand out to pull on the handle, the door stayed shut. It creaked as I tried to open it - but it was locked. "Uh, hello?" A large football player called to me in his confusion, his mouth agape and his eyes squinted as he made his approach. He was as heavy as he was tall; his long, afro-style hair alone adding inches to his height. "This building is for authorized personnel only..." He said to me, pulling a plastic card from behind him and slipping it through the swipe-pad beside the door. The pad flashed green and the door clicked. Unlocked. This place was advanced, way more security than I could have ever imagined. University of Oregon had changed in the last 6 years. Turning to him, I gave a toothy grin and begin to chuckle. "Boy do I feel old, huh." He looked at me, cautiously as he stood before the door. But I didn't let him disappear into the building before I extracted needed information. "I'm actually lookin' for someone - maybe you can help me..." I iterated, "One of your football mates, Kyle Turner." The player gave me a saucy eye glare. "What about him?" Pausing, I conjured the biggest load of shit I could muster up in 0.2 seconds. "My niece, you know-" I started to chuckle, so much so that it interrupted my speech. "Ah man, this is embarrasing on her part, but she's... she's a HUGE fan of his. And I mean HUGE. She has posters of him all over her room, you know?" "Uh-huh..." Little interest from him. Only suspicion. But I didn't let him get another word in. "I mean she's just nuts for college football. Strange for a girl, no? I guess the world is changin' and I'm far behind. Heh, heh, heh." I chuckled again, trying to fluster the boy with too much information for him to process. "But ANYWAYS -" I continued, "Her birthday's comin' up and I was hopin' to get maybe a... you know... surprise appearance from him?" There was a look of confusion on the poor boy's face. "WITH COMPENSATION, of course." Another smile. "Uhhhhhhhmm, righttttt." He replied. "Let me..." He struggled to respond. Possibly the weirdest request he'd ever received, surely. "Let me go see if he's here. I'll be right back." "Sure thing, but ah-!" I held my hand up, a signal for him to stop as he reached for the handle. "Allow me," Taking the door by the giant O shape in its handle, I pulled the steel frame open to allow for the jock to head in. In respect to him, I closed it behind him, locking me out of the building once more. I stood there waiting. Waiting patiently. With my hands stuffed in my pockets, I casually swayed my body and whistled a chirpy hymn. To my surprise, it took only minutes for the door to open again. And out came Kyle fuckin' Turner in the flesh. And he wasn't a teenager anymore. No... He was a man, now. "Uh, hi-?" Kyle would greet me, without so much as a formal introduction. Fuckin' millennials. It took me a moment to sink in his appearance. Tall, 6'1, still shorter than me. A big guy, no doubt. But size didn't matter when it came to murder. Only intent, motive, and calculation. "Yes! Kyle Turner." Pulling my hand from my coat pocket, I extended it to him. "My name is Angelo Rossi. It's great to meet you!" Turner took my hand, shaking it as firmly as I was squeezing. But as he had taken my hand in his, I had also raised my other free hand to firmly grip his bicep. A sort of gesture of greeting, but it secretly to scope his muscular size. "Yeah, thanks." The fucker would respond. Yeah, thanks? Really? Really. Releasing his hand, I returned my superior 6 foot 3 stance to it's upright position and gave a fake, cheery smile. "My niece, she's a crazy fan." Pulling for my wallet, I slipped out a photograph of a teenage girl. "Her name is Nakoma. She's... half native half Italian, like me. Heh." Kyle took the photo in his hand, his eyebrows raising at the beautiful young lady he saw in the picture. Perfect, interest. "A looker, I know. Causes me more problems, ya know?" I chuckled, taking the photo back. "So listen, I came here hopin' I could hire you. For a job, of sorts." Kyle crossed his arms before him and looked at me curiously. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, man. I'm organizing Nakoma's 16th birthday and I really want to make it special. She has posters of ya' all around her room and I thought, pffftttt, what better to surprise her with her favorite football player? Every teenage girl's dream, right?" I laughed again, thinking the idea is silly, but might actually work. "Nothin' major. There's be about 30 of her girlfriends there hangin' around the pool-" Realizing it was January, I instantly corrected myself. "Indoor pool, at her father's place. Big place, you know?" Kyle's head was nodding - Still interested. "Figured you can drop by for an hour or so, or even less if you're in a crunch. Sign some autographs, take some pictures. Grab a bite to eat, whatever you want. There'll be plenty of food, cuz, well, Italians, am I right?" Laughing again, Kyle's interest seemed to only be piquing the more bizarre and outlandish the story got. "Sounds fun." He smiled, bringing his fingers to his lips as he pondered the thought of 30 hot teenage girls in their bikinis. "But uh-" He started to sway. "I don't know-" "I'll pay you $5,0000. Cash." I confessed. His eyes widened. "$2,500 for showing up. $1,500 for autographs and another $1,000 if you take some selfies. You know' - the girls thing. Selfies, heh." I paused, my eyes growing darker as they remained hidden behind Aviator shades. "What do ya' say? We got a deal?" Swiftly changing tunes, "You know what, don't sweat the decision now. There's a lot of politics in sports, I'm old. I know it." I waved my hand in typical Italian fashion. "You gotta' business card or somethin'?" "Uh, nah but I can give you my number-" Perfect. A rich white kid, hot-shot jock, AND a moron. This was too easy. Handing him the photo, he retrieved a pen from his pocket and jotted down his digits. "Wow, thanks man. I appreciate you considering this." I waved the photograph of "Nakoma" and slipped it back into my wallet. "I'll give you a call something this week. Talk it over with your coach or manager or whoever you kids report to, heh." I put my hand out for him to shake again, "And nice meeting you again."

—   —   —  

I found myself roaming the halls of University of Oregon on my attempt to exit the campus. My curious mind sent me further and further into the campus maze - a prestigious multitude of buildings and intricate floor plans; each with its own purpose, meaning, and unique design. Deep in UofO, I stumbled upon the Department of Fine Arts. The halls were brimming from floor-to-ceiling with murals and artwork. Slowing my pace, I stopped to appreciate the work. I had always had an affinity to for paintings. My eye had always found itself drawn to the color red. Red. My dark irises wandered the walls, finally pulling towards a large, 5 foot canvas. It soared above me - dazzling in its ocean of red. The painting was of a woman, presumably dripping in blood. A sort of, Queen of the Damned. Intrigued, my eyes shifted to the small plaque stuck to the wall by the corner of the artwork. Nicola Strom. My stomach sunk as my heart skipped a beat. "Crucifixion." The words rolled off of my lips. My head retracted slowly as my eyes closed. "Mmmm."

—   —   —  

January 20th, 2018 - Five days after release. Eugene, Oregon had been unusually warm for January. For the most part, it was sunny and rainy on-and-off, with an average high temperature of 45 degrees F. Too warm for snow. At least, not enough sub-zero temperatures to keep it for more than a couple days, anyways. Luckily for this lovely Saturday evening, the rain had stopped early morning and the skies were greeted by a brightening sun. Kyle parked his Trail-Rated Jeep cruiser in front of the colonial-century home, red-bricked mansion. He ducked his head, looking over the place with his pale eyes as he took in the sheer size of the place. Although Eugene was home to old money - big money - it was also commonly inhabited by the middle class. Whoever owned this place... wasn't a white-collar, middle class citizen. Exiting his truck, he approached the front door, which was lavishly decorated with a Sweet-Sixteen balloon bundle. A clear indication he was at the right house. As he rang the doorbell, it only took a few seconds before he was greeted by a familiar face. "Mr. Turner." I said, standing tall with my hand cemented firmly on the back of the door. It was the first time he was seeing my hazel-speckled brown eyes. It was also the last. "Cute." I blurted, subliminally mocking his uniformed self as my eyes gazed over his full-football get-up. Shredded sleeves to show his pectoral muscles. How sleazy. Helmet and all. How sweet. "Come join the fun." I smirked, guiding him through the front door. "But maybe take off the helmet." Chuckling, Turner cracked a smile as he took a step into the house - which was, unsuspectingly, filled with the sound of laughing girls. "Too much, huh?" Kyle joked, unclasping the helmet and slipping his head free. His back was to me as I closed the door. "I thought mayb-" The moment he turned to face me, my hand - hidden behind the door the entire time - swung straight for his head. A thin medical syringe pierced into the side of his neck - administered by my right hand - Gloved. Protected. Injecting the cocktail of muscle relaxants, Kyle quickly deteriorated in a matter of seconds. His initial reaction to grab for my hand, but by the time he could react - it was already too late. He was losing almost all of his muscle ability. One. Two. Three. He hit the ground, unable to move, unable to moan, unable to call for help. With his body curled in the middle of the hallway, his eyes remained open - panicked. Looking down at his 6'1, 200 pound physique - which had been reduced to nothing in just seconds - I shook my head. Pathetic. His eyes followed my every move. He was conscious. Awake. Aware. I stepped over him and walked past him like he didn't even exist. Stepping into my living room, I smiled at the sound of giggling teenage girls filled the open-concept space. Walking over to the stereo system, I grabbed the remote and clicked - Off. Silence. Girls? What girls. There were no girls. Returning to his paralyzed figure, I crouched down to brood over him. I tilted my head to the side and grabbed his face between my gloved thumb and fingers. Squeezing his limp cheeks between them as I leaned his head to look at me. "Oh, Kyle." I made clicking noises with the back of my tongue. "Remember her?" Pulling a photograph from my back pocket - Sarah Ward. "Yeahhhhh." I flicked the photo in his face, nearly submitting to my urge to spit on him. "You're gonna die tonight." There was a dark, unforgiving grimace that crept my cheeks. "And it's gonna fuckin' hurt." Two, single-drop tears fell from the corners of his eyes. Hours had passed. Daylight turned to dark as night loomed over the city. Darkness was here. And it didn't come from the sky, nor the sun. Using Kyle's keys, I exited the mansion on the quiet, quaint street. E 22nd Avenue - a large strip of homes graciously spread apart; separated by the comfort of many, decades-old trees. I pulled the vehicle into the long driveway, reversing it rear-forward all the way to the side of the house. Two garage doors welcomed the Jeep, closing behind the front of it. It remained utterly hidden, safe within the confines of the home's garage. It would remain there until 3:45 in the morning, and a storm was brewing. The sound of the garage door sliding gurgled as it swayed open. Keeping the lights of the Jeep off, I placed it into drive and pulled it out of my driveway. The garage door closed behind me automatically, dismissing any evidence it had ever harbored a crime scene. My heart remained regular - beating as it would driving any other vehicle, on any other day, under any other circumstances. Humming, I drove the few blocks between the mansion and the University Campus. The Jeep came to the vehicle entrance of the Oregon Autzen Football Stadium. Like everything within the Performance Center, it required a swipe card to be unlocked and accessed. Holding out Kyle Tuner's card, I flicked it between the pad and waited. Flashing green, the gates to the field slid open. Although forbidden to bring any vehicles directly on to the terrain, it was 3:50 in the morning, on a Saturday. Too late for any players to be hangin' around during off-season, and too early for any maintenance workers or cleaners to begin their services. It was pitch-black, and between the sticky snow and the blowing winds - visibility was poor. Reversing the trail-rated wrangler, I slowly backed it up on to the field, parking the trunk of the vehicle directly in front of the brightly-yellow painted goal-post. Exiting the vehicle, I was dressed from head-to-toe in Kyle's football uniform, with the addition of a black long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. No tattoos were visible. Virtually nothing about me was recognizable. For all intensive purposes, I could very well be Kyle Turner. Unlatching the trunk, it swooshed open. There lay the true Kyle Turner. The flesh and blood. And there was a lot of blood. Taking the thick, twisted rope in my hand, I ran it from the back of the truck to the goalpost. Tossing it over the post's T-center, I caught it back in my hand and ran it back to the truck. The end of the rope was supported by a curled grappling hook. Kneeling behind the trunk, I fastened the hook to the hitch on the Jeep and found my way back to the driver's seat. Pushing the gears into drive, I slowly began to inch the vehicle forward until the rope strained - pulling viciously with the weight. Metal to the floor, I forced the truck into overdrive, suddenly gunning it forward and sending the object in the trunk to veer out of the vehicle. Decelerating the tracks, I watched in my review mirror as the item - two strong planks of crossed wood - reeled up against the T in the yellow goalpost. As it mounted to perfect height, I slammed the Jeep in park, and swiftly - excitedly- hopped out of the truck. It started slow at first, my heavy, rumbling laughter. But it evolved, soon developing into a magnified, thrill-infused maniacal cackle. Victory.

—   —   —   January 21st, 2018 - The Discovery. The lights to the stadium flickered on - lighting the dark early-morning. The sun would not rise for another hour. And for a group of football jocks mucking their way to football practice, it would be a morning they would never forget. Wailing. Loud, incessant, uncontrollable wailing. The sound of screaming echoed throughout the stadium; hair-raising in its velocity, and intensity. The scene brought a grown, 21-year old man to his knees. Vomit projected from his chapped lips as he puked vehemently on the immaculate, freshly-snowed grass - staining it flaxen. It brought a wave of nausea to the entire team. Some cried, some collapsed, some gagged, heaved, hurled. But most... most stood in shock. Hailed before them was the body of Christ - a crucifixion of their most valued team member. There lay the body of Kyle Turner, naked and colorless, with only the stain of bleeding red that covered his postmortem flesh. His genitals were mutilated. His penis split in three different directions. He had been completely castrated; his balls were absent entirely from his groin. An indescribable amount of blood has been loss at its expense, leaving a blood-pour of red human serous to cascade down his legs. Cause of death? Blood loss. Slow, agonizing, harrowing blood loss. The cross hung from the center of the goalpost, the snow beneath his purple-faded feet red with blood. His hands were staked on either side; his ankles crossed and tied. His neck - the same color as his bruised toes - was mounted by barbed wire. His head bore the same fate - crowned like that of Christ with blood trickling from his scalp. RAPIST - Carved with a knife in to his forehead. SINNER - The words dripped from his abdomen in crusting blood, beginning to harden... but still moist. Fresh. —   —   —   "Shocking news this morning on KVAL-13." Smitha George - Live News Reporter, would announce on national television. "A tragedy has occurred at University of Oregon. Senior Football Quarterback Kyle Turner, Star of the Oregon Ducks, was found brutally murdered at the campus stadium." She would go on, standing unshaken in the parking lot of the Performance Center. "Police have ruled the case a homicide after teammates found Tuner's mutilated body crucified on the goal-post of the end field." Spilling too much information for her own good - reporters classically interfered with investigations; often jeopardizing their efforts. "His hands and feet were reportedly pinned to a wooden cross, and his head wrapped in barb wire. Teammates report that the words "Rapist" and "Sinner" were carved on his body..." "... And that his eyes and lips were painted red, with blood." "Turner's vehicle, a Black 2017 Jeep Wrangler - was found abandoned at the scene. Police are looking for any information that may aid their efforts in solving this terrible case." She paused, staring into the camera as her words fed into the lives of millions of Oregon residents. "I'm Smitha George, reporting LIVE for KVAL-13 News." The clip ended.