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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | thirteen

🐴Chapter summary: Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you. 🐴Chapter title: Love Letter

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

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“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong” ‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected.

He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.

He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core.

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.

As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?

“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”

He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.

“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.

His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.

As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.

“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.

You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.

As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.

As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.

Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.

The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of perhaps mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.

As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t bear to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.

Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.

His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.

The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.

Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.

“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.

Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”

Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.

“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.

He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.

The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.

“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.

He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.

You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—

“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again.

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.

“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.

His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.

“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.

“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.

“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.

He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.

Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.

His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?

“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there's a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, perhaps even love. It's a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.

Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.

“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t bear the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.

“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t bear the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.

Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that perhaps he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.

Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.

As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.

“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.

As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.

“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t bear the thought of you leaving.

“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.

“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t bear the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.

One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.

As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.

He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.

You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.

Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.

“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.

“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.

“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.

“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.

“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.

You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.

As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.

He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.

He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”

The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.

“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.

“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.

You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.

He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.

As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.

As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.

He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.

“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.

God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.

He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.

He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t bear to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.

“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Perhaps. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.

He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.

The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.

As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.

“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.

You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.

He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.

Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.

As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.

“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.

Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.

His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.

“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.

“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.

Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.

You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.

You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.

As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.

Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.

In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.

Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.

Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.

As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or perhaps he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.

Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.

“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.

You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.

As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.

He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along?

The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion.

You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?

Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t bear the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.

“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”

He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.

“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.

Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.

Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.

Perhaps that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.

He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.

Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; perhaps it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off.

And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.

Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.

Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.

Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, perhaps even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.

He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.

He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.

He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.

You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.

Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.

Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.

Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.

“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.

Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”

Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.

But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him?

Fuck.

Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.

He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.

He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.

Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.

He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.

As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.

As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.

Fucking hell.

Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.

He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t bear to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or perhaps lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.

Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.

However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, perhaps far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.

“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.

Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.

Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.

The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.

Fuck.

Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Perhaps you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.

That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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kataang-week · 1 year

Text

Special thanks to Mod Atarah (@penguinsledder) and our new Mod Celes (@chocomd) for the lovely gif!

What is Kataang Week?

Kataang Week is when we, as a corner of the fandom, celebrate the ship Kataang! The prompts for Kataang Week 2023 were selected through four rounds of voting over the last few weeks and all prompts were submitted by Tumblr users.

Cool, when is it?

Summer Kataang Week 2023 starts on Monday, July 24th - just over seven weeks from today - and ends on Monday, July 31st.

How do I participate?

The most common ways to participate are by creating art or writing a fic and posting it online. Some people try and create something for every day while others only fill one or two prompts.

As always, we want to reassure you that it’s perfectly okay not to do every prompt! We just hope to have lovely pieces to share on each day.

But I can’t draw or write!

That’s totally fine - there are more ways to participate! You can sing a song, create a graphic, write a poem - just about anything really. You can also show your support by reblogging and liking other people’s contributions.

What are the prompts?

The following will be the running order for Kataang Week 2023:

Wind & Rain - Monday July 24th

Injured - Tuesday July 25th

Confession / Whisper - Wednesday July 26th

Cultural Differences/Cultural Exchange - Thursday July 27th

Secretly Dating / Rivals to Lovers - Friday July 28th

Spirits - Saturday July 29th

Reunion/Meeting Again - Sunday July 30th

Free Day - Monday July 31st

Don’t forget that this year we have the Kataang Week 2023 Bingo Challenge, as well as alternative prompts for Free Day! See the bingo challenge post for more information.

* As a reminder, Cultural Differences/Cultural Exchange and Reunion/Meeting Again were combined during voting as they were very similar prompts. You can interpret them as singular or separate prompts and incorporate one or both for each day.

** Confession and Whisper, as well as Secretly Dating and Rivals to Lovers, were tied with votes, so instead of flipping a coin/deciding randomly, both tied prompts are included as options. You can incorporate one or both prompts for each day.

*** And as always, there is a Free Day at the end of the week. You can use this day to post anything you’d like! It can be a prompt that didn’t receive enough votes or something you’ve been wanting to work on, anything goes!

How should I tag my work?

The easiest way for us to find your work so we can reblog it to this blog is by using the tag “kataang week”. Using “kataang” and “kataangtag” also help. You must tag one of the three in your first five tags otherwise it doesn’t appear in the search.

Sometimes even properly tagged posts may not appear when we search the tags, so if you do not see your content reblogged, please let us know.

Once we’ve reblogged it to this blog we add our own tags (a prompt tag and a user tag) for easy organization. This means we can find all the work for one prompt or all the work from one user in one easy click (this also means that if you have changed your username since participating last year you need to let us know so we can update your tag!).

Can I post my stuff other places online too?

Of course you can!

Why seven weeks? Is that enough time?

Traditionally, we like to provide our content creators seven weeks (for the seven prompts) to create quality content. Kataang Week is also traditionally held in the last week of July.

If you are unable to complete a prompt in time, please do not fret. You can alert this blog by mentioning it in your post (ex. @kataang-week) or messaging one of the mods and your content will still be shared even if it is a week (or a month - or sometimes more!) late.

We also like to post WIP for Kataang Week and encourage everyone else to do so as well - we reblog it here for motivation!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, don’t hesitate to send an ask. Don’t forget to reblog this as well to help spread the word!

Good luck, Kataangers, and happy content creating! :) - The Mods

#Kataang Week #Kataang #Kataangtag #Katara #Aang #Kataang Week 2023

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

Text

Runaway - A Manny (Mayans MC)/Hannah Gray (OC) Story.

I said I would wait to begin posting this, but I’m just starting chapter eleven and I absolutely cannot wait! It isn’t going to be epically long, and I have also made the chapters much more bitesized (2k or less on the word count) so you guys aren’t bombarded by my usual long reads and blathering on (lol!)

Since I know that Manny is very popular, I’m going to set the unlock at 50 notes to get the first chapter (which will begin being posted after BTBT is done) this just the prequel, so you have plenty of time to make that happen. Now, I don’t mind a bit of system cheating, but I would like to see how much this can happen organically, with everyone participating in the likes, comments and reblogs. So, with that being said, on with the show!

Taglist - In the comments

Words - 1,104

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Prologue

“Do you, Hannah, take Michael, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death do you part, according to god’s holy law?”

Did she?

Hannah felt as if she were going deaf to all around, other than the ringing in her ears, a wave of heat rising through her as her heart hammered. The minister sounded like he was speaking to her through water, his voice distorted, the weight of the stare from the entire congregation upon her as she opened her mouth, swallowing when she began to salivate excessively.

Did she?

Because this was for the rest of her life. Of course, if it didn’t work then there was always divorce, but should she, the bride herself, really go through with such a commitment if the word divorce was coming to her as she stood there at the altar, unable to speak? Her eyes flitted over to the stable forces that were her dad and stepmom, both of them staring back at her with concern, Jackie mouthing ‘are you alright?’, Hannah still stood there, gaping like a fish out of water, her legs tingling.

“Babe?” Michael spoke, nudging her. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging here.”

She turned again, looking out to her side of the church, so sparse compared to the small army that was Michael’s friends and family, with it dawning on her as every second stretched out.

‘I’m sorry, pumpkin. I can’t do it. I can’t go ahead and watch you make a mistake, and I think it is, you marrying him.’ Shonda. Her ride or die, and she wasn’t there looking beautiful in jade green satin as a bridesmaid, because she couldn’t stand Michael.

‘Grampy and I won’t be attending, sweetheart. I’m sorry.’ Her grandmother. Ethel Gray was much too polite and mild-mannered to come out in as many words and say it, but she and her husband Bill had never liked him either. Hell, her parents were only there because she’d pleaded with them. Rob and Jackie Gray were also upon the side that said Michael Hansen was a completely unsuitable choice for their beloved daughter.

‘Sorry, Han. Ain’t coming. I don’t like that dude, never have, never will.’ Steve, her elder brother hadn’t been so discreet. Neither had her younger, Jack.

Standing there, it was the moment it hit her, how wrong it was. Her best friend, her brothers, her grandparents, most of her cousins, everyone who had refused, they should have been there. This was her wedding day, and they weren’t there, all because they saw what she refused to, or rather did and instead, stuffed down, excused away, tried to convince herself she could live with. It was her last shot at happiness, she’d convinced herself it was. But was it? Really?

“Hannah, would you like me to repeat the vows again?” the minister asked quietly, breaking the deathly silence that had fallen over the church.

She shook her head. “No.” Her bouquet slipped from her hand before she’d even turned to look up at her fiancé, roses and lilies shedding their petals upon the parquet floor. “I can’t, I’m so sorry.” Turning, she gathered her dress, reaching to take the small, oyster lace clutch from her now-never-would-be sister-in-law before running back down the aisle, a chorus of gasps echoing through the sacred space, Hannah praying that her ankles didn’t buckle, having to run in five-inch heeled Manolo Blahnik’s. She’d chosen the very same Hangisi royal blue stilettoes that her heroine Carrie Bradshaw had worn to marry Mr Big. Except she was the one doing the jilting in this instance.

“Hannah! Wait!”

Michael’s voice propelled her faster down the steps, people all around stopping and pointing as they witnessed it, a real-life runaway bride situation. Her heart hammered hard with every step, her armpits beading with sweat as she felt her stomach lurching, swallowing hard, knowing she had to escape him.

“Hey lady! Fucking watch it!” the man behind the wheel of the car she ran out in front of through the traffic yelled, Hannah swerving, realising how stupid and perilous her decision to cross the highway was, her head spinning as her eyes darted around, looking for a cab, turning back to see Michael hurtling down the grass bank that flanked the church.

“Hannah! Get back here, now!”

“Fuck!” Panic flooded her, dodging between the cars, horns blaring even though the traffic was slow moving that morning, looking for her escape when suddenly, it called out to her.

“Hey darlin’, you need a ride?” Turning her head in the direction she’d heard the smooth, husky voice call, she saw a tall man aboard a massive black Harley. The trepidation she felt when noticing the Mayan kutte lasted all of five seconds, hearing Michael yelling at her again. It wasn’t the cab she’d been looking for, but an outlaw on an iron horse was perhaps the better option for making a speedy getaway.

“Yes! Thank you!” she cried, moving around the front of the white Lincoln Navigator that had kindly stopped to let her cross into the next lane, hoiking up her dress a little further as she straddled the back of the motorcycle.

“Where you wanna go, mamas?” the man asked.

“As far away from here as possible.”

He pulled back the throttle, the bike sounding like thunder in her ears. “I gotchu.” Over eighteen hundred cc’s roared ferociously as he pulled out and cut through the traffic, the all-black Street Bob thundering away down the highway, Hannah yanking her veil off before wrapping her arms around his slender waist, her heart still going ten to the dozen as she left a shocked, angry looking former fiancé in her wake, her veil fluttering down at his feet as he watched her ride away.

“You okay there?” he asked as they took a right at the intersection, feeling that she held onto him with a shaky grip.

“Yes... no... erm...” she floundered. “I’m Hannah, by the way.”

He chuckled a little. “I’m Manny. Sounds like you need me to take you to the nearest bar, Hannah.”

“Immediately, if not sooner!”

He was planning on going home, lighting up a joint and maybe calling his regular no strings attached girl for some afternoon fun, with little else to do with his day. Rescuing a bride who’d obviously had some very last minute second thoughts was certainly a very random derailing of that initial plan, but one he wasn’t mad about.

#manny mayans mc #manny mayans mc fanfiction #manny mayans mc imagine #manny mayans mc smut #manny mayans mc x ofc #manny montana #manny montana fanfiction #manny montana imagine #manny montana x ofc #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 2 years

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*chants* Bucky, Bucky, Bucky

18. Just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight, just for show. I’ll be gone by sunrise.

(Pretty please)

Compromised

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 5873

Warnings: Betrayal, weapon usage/violence, angst galore. Canon timeline doesn't exist to make this fic work.

Author’s Note: Okay, hear me out before this one gets started. I'm sorry (That's a lie) for whatever pain comes from this one. But I also couldn't help myself and added a second prompt because it JUST FIT PERFECTLY and I couldn't help myself. I added prompt 10. You started this. The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth. The beginning of this fic is a bit misleading. Do not jump to conclusions! Also, I want to say that I'm still getting used to writing for Bucky, so any constructive critiques are welcome. Please note that Make it Angsty Requests are now closed. I'm posting them after the fact cause I fail at posting things in a timely manner. The divider is by the lovely @firefly-graphics ♥

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

MCU Masterlist || Fandom Masterlist || Taglist

It was almost a typical Stark party. However for once it wasn’t for his benefit of any kind. For the first time since Y/N had joined the avengers, they were celebrating her birthday. While it may seem odd that they hadn’t done so before, it was because Y/N didn’t want them to fuss over her. For years they had attempted to throw her a party, but she never wanted it and reminded them every time they had tried.

At first she refused to give up the date when she first joined to allow them to throw some kind of celebration. After FRIDAY gave up the day, Y/N always found out about the details that allowed her to evade every get together or surprise party they attempted. They’d throw the party and she’d never show until she was sure they had given up. Or she’d take on missions to avoid the compound altogether.

In truth, Y/N felt as though she didn’t deserve the party they had been so desperately wanting her to be a part of. She couldn’t ever recall a time where her birth had been celebrated. There weren’t an increasing amount of candles to blow out. After years of having nothing, it had become just another day to her. And now that several people wanted to celebrate her birthday, it was overwhelming.

That was until a few months ago that Bucky had been volunteered to convince his girlfriend to actually have a birthday party. If anyone could convince her, it’d be Bucky. He couldn’t get out of the small parties that Steve insisted they have for him. Unlike Y/N, he couldn’t escape his best friends tatics from it.

And after weeks of convincing and reassuring Y/N that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have a party thrown for her, she finally agreed to it. It also didn’t hurt to add in that any time he was forced to attend a party for his, she was a willing participant that helped him enjoy the night. For once he wanted to be able to see her enjoy herself on her birthday.

That was how she currently found herself surrounded by plenty of people that she knew and didn’t know. Many of them had been staff within the compound that she hardly ever talked to. If it hadn’t been for the conversations and words of encouragement from Bucky and her teammates, she would have bolted for the door hours ago.

But now, she was beginning to feel ansty and the one person that promised he’d by her side the majority of the night was nowhere to be seen. Even as her eyes scanned the crowd she couldn’t find Bucky. Usually she could pick him out rather easy in any room, but right now she couldn’t.

As her eyes finished her scan, she found Steve and Sam talking across the way causing her to start making her way over. As she had, her eyes kept looking for Bucky the whole time hoping he’d pop up.

“Have you seen Bucky?” She asked as she came up to them.

They had stopped mid conversation the moment she spoke. They both hadn’t missed the anxiousness that was visible in her eyes. While they hardly ever seen that side of her before, they both knew that this was a first for her. They expected there to be some hesitancy on her part.

Steve tilted his head towards the hall at the other end of the room. “He got a phone call a few minutes ago. Couldn’t hear over the music.”

She didn’t blame him. The music levels were just loud enough that some people had to speak louder just to be heard. Any louder and she was sure people would have to be mouth to ear in this place to hear anything.

“Thanks.” She said giving him a smile.

“We’re going to be bringing out the cake soon.” Sam added. “Don’t take too long.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No promises!” She said before she turned and started making her way towards the hall.

When she reached the hall, her eyes began scanning each room as she walked past them, looking for Bucky. She soon realized that only one room, at the very end of the hall had been closed. A small smile pulled at her lips once more as she made her way over to that door.

Her thoughts instantly going to the playful things she could say to him as she walked into the door. She could joke about how he was hiding away when he promised he’d be there. She could also joke that when his birthday came around, she would be able to hide away. The many things she could say just to help ease the anxiety that was bubbling within her.

“Hey Buck-” As she opened the door, she froze. The playful question about him hiding away never got the chance to pass her lips.

Bucky stood at the opposite side of the desk with a file opened and papers scattered. Several pictures were mixed in with the pages that had been on the desk. A document was in his hand as if he had been reading it moments before she had opened the door.

Curiosity should have filled her with what he currently had his eyes trained on, but it wasn’t. Fear filled her as she recognized the contents of the file he had been going through. All of the information in that file she had tried her hardest to destroy. The life she no longer wished to be a part of was contained within that file. The lies to her life laid out on display.

Taking a shuddering breath, she stepped into the room and closed the door. She kept her back to the door, with her hands on the handle. The simple need to grasp onto it just in case she needed to make a quick getaway.

“I need you to let me explain.”

The instant the words left her mouth, Bucky’s eyes snapped to her. He had heard her when she opened the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Not when his eyes were still scanning the document in his hand, taking in the information.

His heart had been in his stomach from the moment he opened the file. Before he opened it, he felt as though he shouldn’t and trust Y/N. He wanted to believe that there was no reason to worry and whatever was in that file was going to prove his recent suspicions to be wrong. But they weren’t.

Being free from the memories tied to it makes it easier to get the job done.

A simple phrase she had said weeks ago had stuck with him. A siren going off within his mind that felt wrong. For someone such as Y/N, who joined from SHIELD, shouldn’t know what it’s like to have her memories wiped. Then again, he had no idea what SHIELD was capable of doing behind closed doors.

It didn’t stop Bucky from wanting the answers himself without dropping a thousand questions on Y/N. He knew the sudden interest in her past would raise questions. While Bucky knew as much about Y/N as she was willing to give, she still had walls up and Bucky respected some of those walls. Just as she had with some of his. But now he had the answers directly in front of him and he hated himself for not seeing it sooner.

“Who are you?” His voice was loud enough for her to hear. His voice hardly held any emotion even though his expressions conveyed everything he was feeling.

“You know who I am.” She responded as she lifted her head up a little higher. Almost as if she was bracing herself for the blow.

“Obviously I don’t.” His right hand gestured towards the desk. “Your background was pretty extensive, I’m amazed that you made it through Tony’s security checks with how much I have sitting on this desk.”

“It’s not that hard for Hydra to create a false identity when you don’t exactly have one.” Much like the calmness in his voice, her’s matched. On the inside, her heart was racing. She was sure her eyes had displayed the fear and guilt she was currently feeling. Her eyes took in every bit of him. Studying him and keeping herself ready for anything she hoped wouldn’t happen. “The person in that file is dead. Has been for several years.”

A scoff passed his lips as he shook his head. “If she’s dead, who’s birthday are they currenty out there celebrating?”

They. He hadn’t included himself in that scentence and Y/N had picked up on that right away. There was a change from earlier this morning when he took her out to breakfast and left a gift on her bed side table to wake up to. She assumed that the time he took to celebrate her birthday ended when he got his phone call, no doubt signalling the arrival of the file.

“Still mine.” There was the slightest nod of her head as she tried to enure his questions were answered as quickly as she could without them seeming rehearsed, even though there were times where she practiced for the day she would tell him. “They-” She stopped herself. There was no use in avoiding the truth. “Hydra believed that if I had no ties to my former life, I would do as they pleased. But when creating a backstory, they used my real birth date. It was only after I left that I found out it was the right date. Everything else was different.”

His eyes took her in as she finished. He could see how she was almost in a defensive stance. Her arm behind her back no doubt holding the handle on the door. The defensive reflex reminding him of many times he had seen other soldiers hold that stance in a room that he was in. An easier way to leave when the opportunity presented itself.

He wondered how many other times there was something that had seemed so familiar to him that had gone unnoticed. For every memory that had been returned to him, he never knew who she was when they first met. He would have known if she was mixed in the sea of memories, but she never encountered him while he was under Hydra’s hold.

But now he kew that brief moment of a gut feeling when he met her for the first time was an actual warning he should have listened to. But it had been Steve, and occasionally Sam, that reminded him that once she opened up, she wasn't as guarded and neither of them had felt off about her presence. It turns out they had been wrong.

"I get it." She said a moment later when he hadn’t said anything. “This is a bunch of new information that you're taking in. Maybe you need a little more time to process." Her hand on the knob slowly turned. This would be the only chance she'd have to leave the room. While she didn't fear him, she was afraid of the emotions that would come from this conversation. She knew, without a doubt, he'd hate her afterwards. "I'll head back to the party and we can talk later. Just please don't say anything to anyone. At least not yet."

She had barely turned around and opened the door a little more than an inch or two before the swish of a blade flying through the air was loud in her ears. It was followed by a thud that caused the door to slam shut just as quickly as she had opened it. She looked up to see the knife barely above her head.

"We are far from finished."

When she turned back around, she found him standing within arms reach. His eyes were narrowed at her. Her heart aches that he had been looking at her like he was instead of the caring looks she had been used to. In the span of a an hour, she had become the enemy in his eyes.

Bucky could have aimed anywhere. He had half a mind to aim for the space right beside her hand or even right by her cheek. Something close enough to knick the skin as a warning not to leave. But the part of him that cared way too deeply for her couldn't bring himself to bring the knife that close to her.

He couldn't deny what was in front of him. The way she had been so calm about this had further proved the evidence. It was almost as if he could no longer recognize who she was. That the woman he loved was completely different from the woman who's life had been spread out on the desk behind him. Even the words leaving her lips that now came out so easily were foreign to him in the way their conversations usually went. Hydra was never spoken of and now it had been mentioned more times in the last few minutes than they had been in the few years they had known each other.

“How long?” He asked a moment later.

“Since before we met.” The words came out easily.

"What was your mission?"

Her eyes scanned his face for a moment. Just enough for her to collect her thoughts. She could lie, but she knew that would get her nowhere. She could tell the truth, and they could possibly find themselves at each other's throats.

“To infiltrate the Avengers." His features hadn't changed as she continued. "I was to gain their trust while I observed and reported anything of interest. When the time came I was to take down my target.”

“Who is your target?” He asked with a raised brow.

“Doesn’t matter, I couldn’t go through with it.” She said with a shake of her head.

That detail she couldn’t bring herself to give up. It caused her heart to ache just thinking about it. She never voiced it before and she didn’t want this to be the first time she did. Any other time she could redirect the questions onto something else. But this wasn’t just a casual conversation to be had anymore. This was Bucky interrogating her.

There weren't any playful conversations or plans for the rest of the night. There wasn’t the comfortable stance between them. Instead they both were on edge and the tension in the air thick.

“It does matter. You came here under false pretenses. Lied to everyone who believed to be your friend. I think it’s only fair that you own up to who it was.” It was no longer about knowing her past and what she had done. It was now about if she still posed as threat while still here within the walls of the compound.

“They’re still breathing.” She noted. “I almost went through with it. But I learned I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So it doesn’t matter who it was, Bucky. All that matters is that I turned my back on Hydra and never looked back.”

“And what’s to stop you from changing your mind and going after them?” He asked taking a step closer to her.

“What stopped you from killing Steve?” With his step forward, she began remembering the layout of the room. The details she could use to her advantage from being pinned against the door as she now was.

“Why can’t you just answer the question?” He shot back as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Because it isn’t necessary!” Her voice raised slightly. The emotions within her growing and she hated the fact that her eyes threatened to tear up. “I left. I made the choice to be better. You got to do the same. Why is it any different with me?”

“Because I don’t know how I can trust you without knowing all of the facts.” He took in a deep breath trying to calm himself. “I let you in. How do I know that everything you’ve told me isn’t a lie? I don’t know how much of it was you actually being you or if you were doing your job and just using me to get close to-”

He stopped himself when something clicked in his mind. The missing pieces of the puzzle being found as he watched the tears well up in her eyes and the words he had just said brought everything into perspective. He looked up at the knife that was still embedded in the door above her head before looking back at her.

“I’m only going to ask this one more time.” There was hurt in his voice and every part of him hoped that the answer he now had in his mind was wrong. “Who is your mission?”

The moment Bucky had cut himself off, Y/N knew he had pieced it together. It was written in his face and in his eyes. It had made her heart ache as she watched him piece it together. She knew this is where he would hate her. Even if she tried and denied it again, he still knew and there was nothing that could change that.

“You.” That was when the first tear fell from her eyes. His hands dropped to his sides as he took a step back. When she reached out to him, he hit her hand away. “Bucky-”

“Everything was a lie, wasn’t it?” His head shook as he looked at her. His heart ached in a way he believed he never felt before. He had felt and done many things during his lifetime. He regretted many things and several of them he wished on everything he could take them back. But the one thing he never regretted was meeting and falling in love with Y/N. At least that was until now. “You are pretty good at your job sweetheart, I’ll give you that.”

“I have lied about plenty of things, but my feelings for you weren’t one of them.” Y/N needed him to understand that.

Her confessions of care and love towards him hadn’t been faked at any point. Her annoyance in the beginning had been clear. It took months for them to warm up to each other, let alone work well together on missions. And while she was the double agent, it was only until her feelings had shifted, right along with Bucky’s, that she realized she couldn’t go through with her mission.

“Don’t feed me that bullshit.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Everything I have known about you has been a lie. From the moment I met you I should have listened to my gut.” He shook his head before running his fleshed hand down his face. “You started this by taking the mission.” He said as he looked into her eyes. “The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth for once.”

Her eyes widdened slightly as she took in his words. She knew that this was a justified reaction from him. But it didn’t hurt anyless to hear that she was breaking him. The first relationship he had away from Hydra and she was tormenting him by not telling him the truth.

She looked elsewhere for a moment as she tried to get her emotions in check. After all those years of training, she found them to be useless in that moment. Tears were falling freely with no intent to stop. They were silent and didn’t affect her in the way it would to someone else.

“You want the whole truth? Okay. Here it is.” If it would help in some way to either ease things between them or get them going for the inevitable reveal to the others, she’d give it all up. “Hydra caught wind that you were having your programming removed.” His eyes widened for a moment as he took in her words. “For the right price, there are no secrets, even in closed borders, you know that. Agents were trying to find their place after the fall of SHIELD. It was easy to have a background created for me and I was tossed in with the potentials. It didn’t take long for my skillsets to be noticed and I was brought in rather quickly. I was to observe and report what was necessary to my superiors. And when the time came I was to assess if the Winter Soldier could be returned and utilized or put down.

"I played my role and mingled with everyone. I reported back when necessary. Much like you with the hesitancy towards me, I had the same with you. Yes, I feared that you’d figure it out early on and kill me. I expected it from the moment you returned from Wakanda. I stayed on edge waiting for the moment that you would figure it out. But you never did. And when you managaged to actually hold a conversation with me for longer than two seconds, I knew I had my way in.” She watched as a glare formed on his face and when he opened his mouth to speak she quickly continued.

“Things started to change between us. I fought it because I was supposed to be doing my job and not falling for you. Your death was supposed to come that first mission alone together after it was agreed by my superiors that you were to be put down. You were so eager to get the mission done that you never realized you had a gun pointed at your head several times.” She wiped the tears from her cheek. Bucky had shook his head at her words. No doubt hating himself for not realizing it then. “Nor did you see how I struggled to get myself to pull the trigger. Because every time you looked back to check on me, all I could see was Bucky and not the asset that I was meant to put down. All I could see was the freedom and relationship that I craved and I couldn’t do it.

“The moment we got back from that mission I left for a few days. I said it was because I had a family emergency that I needed to take care of. That was the last lie I told you. Because I couldn’t tell you that I was going to either get myself killed or I was going to take down the base that not even the Avengers knew about.”

The moment she mentioned it, Bucky remembered that night. He remembered, for the first time in a long while, being anxious waiting for Y/N to return home from checking in on her family. The night she had left he was going to tell her how he felt. The feelings that had been developing for her, he needed her to know.

Bucky had been working up the courage the week leading up to the mission. But he couldn’t get himself to. And when they got back, he was on his way to her room to tell her when he caught word she had left rather quickly. The only thing anyone knew was something was going on with her family. So Bucky waited a little longer to tell her.

After almost a week and a half, Bucky woke up in the middle of the night to find Y/N sitting in the doorway to his room. At first he believed he was dreaming until he got up and walked over to her. He had expected to see some kind of smirk on her lips or some kind of joke about her being a lurker. Instead he found her face and neck covered in yellowing bruises.

“What happened?” He asked, quickly moving to sit beside her and take in the damage.

“Some times checking in on your family means getting your ass beat in the process.” It was a horrible joke but it had made her chuckle slightly as tears formed in her eyes.

He brought his hand under her chin and lifted it slightly, angling her face up and to the side to get a better look at her neck. “Should have called in for some back up. I gladly would have stepped in.” They chuckled and she shook her head.

“I assure you, they wouldn’t be able to touch anyone again.”

Her words caused an eyebrow to raise on his face. “Am I being sworn to secrecy with that statement? Cause I can-”

“You wont have to worry about anything.” She promised. “I’m free from anything incriminating.” She looked down the hall towards where her room was. “I’ve only been back a few minutes, I didn’t want to wake you. You actually looked like you were sleeping peacefully tonight. I just needed-”

“It’s okay.” He assured her. He stayed with her in that spot for a little longer before she excused herself to go to her room.

The next morning they received the news that a hydra base had been taken down with no idea who had done it. No mission had been scheduled. They didn't even know that particular base had existed. Yet it had been up in flames without anyone alive to explain what was going on. Local authorities had been the ones to find the base in shambles and it took some time to reach the compound.

“I should kill you right now.” His voice had been calm. The words had even shocked him as they left his lips. Maybe it was the mix of emotions, but there was no stopping them once they left his lips.

Without any hesitation, Y/N shot her hand up above her head, grabbing the hilt of the knife, pulling it free. The moment she had it free, Bucky had his vibranium hand wrapped around hers. He thought she had been attempting to use it against him, and as he tried to keep it from meeting him, she easily brought it closer to her, letting the tip of the blade meet her shirt right above her heart.

“Do it, you’d be doing both of us a favor.” For a brief moment she saw the way his eyes softened at her words and actions before they hardened just as they had moments before. “I never intended to fall for you. But you made me care and I couldn’t stop myself. You want to kill me, go ahead. I deserve it for what I’ve done.”

Bucky pulled the blade away from her and brought it down to his side. “You should have told me the truth sooner. When you knew you couldn’t go through with it. Or even that night. We sat up for hours, you should have told me. I would have let you go then instead of having to find out this way when you slipped up.”

“I know, and I understand that I should have. But you-”

“Leave.” He couldn’t let her finish what she was about to say. While he didn’t know it word for word, he knew she would say along the lines of ‘now he knew and they could start over, now he knew and once she told the others they could make their way past this’. Part of him wanted to let her be that selfish. But the other part that now saw her only as someone that used him, he couldn’t bring himself to allow her any of it.

She nodded her head. “Okay, I’ll give you some space.”

“I meant leave here completely. I don’t want to see you around here anymore. In fact I expect you to be somewhere across the world by morning.”

“What? No-”

“If you don’t leave, I will gladly walk out of this room and alert everyone that Hydra is within their walls.” He would quickly do it if it allowed him the peace of her being gone. He couldn’t stand to look at her right now.

"I am not Hydra anymore!" She was glad the music had been blasting down the hall or else she would have given herself away with how loudly she had yelled it at him. “If you’re going to take anything away from this, please let that be it.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head. He moved towards the door to leave. As his flesh hand grabbed the door knob, she placed hers on top of his, causing him to look over at her with a glare.

“I know you don’t owe me any favors, and I definitely don’t deserve this, but please. Just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight, just for show.” She watched as his eyes hadn’t changed as he kept them on her. “Please. The others don’t need to hear about this right now and I promise that I’ll be gone by sunrise.”

He stood there for a moment, taking her in one last time. For the briefest of moments, this was his Y/N that he was looking at. The woman he had loved with everythin he could give. She wasn’t the enemy that had been standing in front of him. Nor was she the woman that broke his heart several times within their conversation tonight.

The pain in his chest shattered the illusion a moment later and all he could see and feel was the betrayal from her. The lies he had heard over the years on a loop in his mind as he looked into her eyes. He couldn’t give her the whole night she was asking for. He didn’t even know if he’d be capable of giving her any time longer than him walking out of this room.

“I’ll give you until your candles are out.” He said as he shook her hand off of his and opened the door. “That’s the only time you’ll get. After that it’s fair game.”

As the door slammed shut behind him, she closed her eyes and let a shakey breath out. She had expected him to say no. To tell her to leave once more before he left the room. She had expected to be running to their shared room and packing a bag to slip out under the radar. But he gave her smallest window of nothing being wrong.

Leaving the room, she quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom to collect herself. Thankfully there hadn’t been many people in the hall and there wasn’t someone already in the bathroom. Making quick use of her time, she ensured that not a single evidence of tears had been on her face and made sure her eyes didn’t hold the emotions she had been feeling. With one last deep breath, she walked back out to the party.

“There she is!” Clint yelled out, catching her attention. “We’ve been trying to keep Thor off of the cake.”

In the last few moments the music had been lowered significantly, to a decent volume. Thankfully they hadn’t decided to do so before she and Bucky had walked out of the room. If they had, she was sure she’d be greeted differently.

“Didn’t I tell you it wouldn’t be long before cake?” Sam teased.

“Someone couldn’t keep their hands off.”

Bucky’s voice had surprised her. As her eyes snapped to his, there wasn’t the playful gleam within his eyes. If anything, he was hiding the glare that wanted to form. He sent a wink her way before he brought the beer bottle up to his lips. The subtle message that he agreed and wouldn’t take it back. He’d keep the new charade up as long as she left just as he asked.

“Enough of that!” Nat said before Y/N could respond. She came over to Y/N and began leading her to stand in front of the cake. “Let’s sing and cut the cake before they decide to disappear again.”

The instant Y/N was in place, Nat began to light the candles on the cake quickly. But her eyes never left Bucky as he moved to stand closer to her for the time being. The others gathered around and it wasn’t long before a countdown started and the singing began. Taking Y/N’s full attention.

From the opposite side of the cake, she watched as the people who had become her friends over the last several years sing to her. The smiles on their faces as they had were something she’d never forget. And as her eyes landed on Bucky, he too had been participating just as she asked him too. The sparkler candles adding the right touch to the memory she was creating in her mind. The memory she’d keep with her for as long as she could after she left. The and only birthday celebrated with them all.

As the song came to an end, she could see the way Bucky’s eyes had been on anywhere else but her. He had even stopped singing mid song before the others had even finished singing. The ‘normal’ coming to an end.

While every one told her to make some kind of wish, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to. While she could wish for anything and everything to take back today, and even the last few years she would. But the damage had been done. There was no going back now.

I’m sorry. She thought as she blew out the candles.

In the midst of the cheers and the cake being moved away, Y/N was gone from sight. The only one who noticed it at first was Bucky. He watched her the whole entire time. He watched as she manuevored out of sight from the others and down towards the hall.

The moment she was gone from sight, Bucky’s body slumped slightly. The tension in his body leaving as he sat himself down in the nearest chair. The action hadn’t go unnoticed by some of his friends.

“You alright Buck?” Steve’s voice filled his ears as caught his movement in his peripheral taking a seat next to him.

“Give me the rest of tonight to give you an answer to that.” He said even though his eyes never left the hallway.

He had hardly got a grip on the situation himself. He was still processing the information, her words on a loop in his head, along with the hurt he was feeling had his mind spinning. Because how could he begin to explain that the woman they all cared for had been lying for years?

“Where’d Y/N go?” Steve asked keeping his attention on Bucky.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He finally brought his attention to Steve. “I just need time to give you the ‘why’ of it all.”

After years of freedom from the organization that manipulated, used, and tormented him, Hydra sure had a way of making its presence known in his life even after being destroyed. The relief of freedom he felt had been taken away from him the moment he had opened that file. And the genuine happiness he felt had been shattered to pieces the moment she confirmed his thoughts.

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writebackatya · 1 year

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DuckTales Team Ideas Part 2: Your Team Ideas

So recently I made a post about some team ideas for the cast of DuckTales. Besides showing off my team ideas that post was made to hear other people’s team ideas and it was successful!

Now originally I thought people were just going to reblog it with their own ideas, but that was a long post so I can see why that didn’t happen. So instead people left comments! Just thought I’d share those comments because we got some cool team ideas

I wanna start with the one that made me kick myself for not even thinking of it! This one comes from @andrewmoocow who suggested Lena, Penumbra, and Gandra

First off! I love all your reasons! The fact that their names all end with an A is the cherry on top of this sundae of a team idea!

Since you didn’t give them a team name I got a couple suggestions: The first name is sorta playing off their names ending in a, they’d be the ‘Ä Team. (Pronounced “ah” cause of the final part of the name)

The second team name is literally a Pink Floyd Album: Dark Side of the Moon. That one I think would work well. Plus I can see all three of them rocking the shirt with that album cover

On the flip side: Webby, Della, and Fenton would make for a great team. Their team name would be Sunny Side Up

Next up comes @tokuvivor (and @shychick-52) who’d love to see the young Junior Woodchucks come together as trio: Huey, Boyd, and Violet. And I agree it would be good. Also yeah, they did write a whole-ass story. And I finished it recently, it was good. Go read it if you like these characters:

Also I’m all for Team Junior Badasses. Dewey, Webby, and Gosalyn would make for a powerful trio that I can see sharing one braincell and I’m all for it

@boingodigitalart had the idea of brining Louie, Goldie, and BOYD to form the Con Crew. Oh the one hand I love this idea for a trio. I can see Louie feeling bad for what happened to BOYD at Doofus’s birthday party and wanting him to feel welcome. I just love the idea of individuals who were once “enemies” now on a team together. (Heck it’s why I wanted Dewey, Gandra, and Webby on a team. After the Split Sword Swanstantine it’d be great to see them work together

But on the other hand, I don’t think BOYD would feel comfortable participating in the schemes Louie and Goldie would do. But that’s what makes an interesting trio. BOYD could easily be the heart/voice of reason of this group so that these guys never go too far. Also I can just hear Goldie saying something along the lines of “Sharpie, you sure you wanna bring the Nanny Cam with us on this scheme?”

Con Crew has a nice ring to it, but may I suggest Con Heir? Cause BOYD’s the heir to the Drake’s fortune? And there’s that movie called Con Air? I never watched that movie, I just like making puns

Last but not least is @shychick-52 who had quite a few ideas:

Okay first off. How dare you make a change to my Spy Team idea! Just kidding. I can see what you’re getting at here, but I beg to differ. Honestly, I think Gandra and Louie would have trouble (at first) getting along. I always felt that if she ever found out about Louie not paying his employees their salary in order to waste it on crappy merchandise without telling them she’d be like “Yeah, I’m not working with this billionaire’s nephew.” But if he was on the Spy Team he could be their guy in the chair

However I guess I would add him to Rebel Squad (Gandra, Gosalyn, and Lena). Louie would be their token white guy

Back to her suggestions, I love Jr Justice Ducks (Gosalyn, BOYD, and Lena). Always down for a superhero team. And the DuckTales universe would have a Teen Titans like team and that would rock

Also. I love this idea for the name alone. Team Orphan: Lena, BOYD, May, and June. May and June definitely need to be a part of more groups. And this would make for a fun team. Seeing BOYD and June interact would be great

Well that’s all I got to share. Thanks again to all the tagged people and their input and team ideas! I’m sure they’ll spark the creativity of the people in the DuckTales fandom!!

Please share any ideas if YOU got any!

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kyluxtrashpit · 2 months

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Sooo, I’m not sure if this will make you feel any better about the whole poll drama disappointment, but I thought I’d let you know where I think some of this may have originated from and why I think the bots rumor started rather than there actually being bots (though I will get to that too).

(as a disclaimer: I’m speaking only from what I’ve seen from my neck of the (kylux) fandom woods; there could absolutely be other people involved that I’ve simply seen nothing from)

A person, who happens to ship kylux but has promoted to all fandoms with that character, has been having fun with the ‘hottest SW man poll’. They’ve been reblogging links to it along with entertaining little edits to promote their favorite character with the hope of getting people to take part in the vote. Now obviously they’re voting for that character themself, but anyone who happens to see the post are no more obligated than anyone else who reblogs/sees the poll to vote for that person’s preference. (I’m a kyluxer too, and I love both of them, but despite the promotions I still didn’t vote for him because that’s not my opinion for ‘hottest SW man’) And I don’t know about you, but I’m sure there have been many people, myself included, who have voted in a poll someone they follow reblogged for something that person liked and, despite not having a stake in it personally, cast said vote in deference to them. I’m sure that happened in some cases with this situation, however I’m also sure part of what happened is that fans who’d have otherwise never seen the poll were able to cast their vote (I’m in this category as I don’t follow these sorts of blogs at all), as well as – because it was put out in a fun, silly way – led them to vote when they might not have cared to bother otherwise.

Now, I do agree it’s kinda stretching the general spirit of these polls, however what they’ve been doing is only really different in that they’ve been adding character edits along with multiple reblogs in an attempt to make it a silly little attention-grabbing promotion thing rather than merely a reblog or two of the poll. Again, I do think it’s been a bit much, but I will say I can appreciate the enthusiasm of someone who thought they were having fun in their fandom with a simple ‘for fun’ fandom related poll. Another consideration to make is that this person might be new to these things (and/or tumblr in general), which could be a reason for it as well. Plus, different people are going to react to and participate in things in different ways, and sometimes those ways differ from the norm enough to cause a stir despite no ill will or actual ‘rule breaking’ meant.

Nevertheless, that isn’t botting. I can see why people might feel it’s a little unfair even if it’s only exaggerating behavior people already naturally have with polls. I can also certainly understand why it could lead to some people getting rubbed the wrong way and then feeling upset, thus further leading to a sense of drama and subsequent botting rumors (and the origin person being a kylux shipper leading to the kylux fandom as a whole being scapegoated). But still, that’s not the same as botting. In the end, neither you nor anyone else are obligated to no longer be upset simply because of this explanation. That’s your right and you don’t have to like this any more than genuine botting, I just wanted to clarify a potential source.

However, if there IS real botting, that’s indeed an absurd thing for someone to be doing for a simple poll. Perhaps someone got out of hand because of the above person’s promoting; perhaps it’s just a rumor started because some people simply weren’t expecting the character to receive enough votes to persist in the poll – and hey, everyone’s got their own preferences and opinions on ‘hotness’, but the fact a character some don’t think should be lingering over others has endured so long doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a conspiracy. Of course, I’m sure there are people who also have their own opinions on what might constitute ‘botting’ and have considered what I described to be in that category. Which is totally fine too. I personally disagree, but that’s merely my opinion and no one else has to accept it. For the most part, I merely believe this was a situation that got a little out of hand and led to a bit of drama that’s now negatively painting people who meant no harm – because it IS just a fun little fandom poll.

As for the numbers bumping in seemingly large chunks upon refreshing (I don’t even know how you could see individual numbers for an individual character???), I can only guess at how these polls bring in the numbers in order to calculate percentages, both continuous and final. Is it in delayed chunks? Is it really one by one by one exactness??? Perhaps a combination of both, somehow??? While on your end it might appear to be an immediate change after your vote (so a one by one idea), upon a refresh it might ACTUALLY be registering assorted votes in collected chunks, altering the newly refreshed percentage in a way that might seem huge based on what it was before/after your vote, but actually isn’t due to a collected recalculation of ALL new votes. And by individual character numbers, I’m not talking about that character's percentage, which is a percentage of a whole being recalculated upon that refresh. A whole which shifts percentages up and down throughout as the vote total increases regardless of minutes or hours. For a long-term example: he could be at a 13% high at one point because a number of that character’s voters voted around that time, heightening his numbers amongst the pool of votes, then a few hours later is at a 5% low because even more overall votes have come in since and his were few to none, and then later up to 9% as another batch of his voter’s participated. These ‘batches’ ostensibly have more to do with time zones/people online seeing the poll post and not botting. And in the short term you can apply this concept but with the ‘batches’ being overall votes that happen to have some chunks for that character mixed in.

Honestly, I don’t know if any of that is fully true or not; I’m just going off general observation of the polls and vaguely educated(?) guesswork. I could be totally wrong and that stupidly long paragraph is nonsense. Really this whole seemingly suspicious numbers thing is something I’d not seen or heard about at all until your post, so...I’ve no idea there. If botting is happening, and someone did get out of hand with this, I think it’s likely piggybacking off this above person’s attempt at fun engagement, thus tainting and casting blame on said person and, in particular, their ship fandom (which is quite unfair as not all his fans come from kylux, or even from pairings to begin with). And if there isn’t botting and it’s all a misunderstanding, then it’s still doing that to this person and the kylux fandom because of people’s upset and blame shifting onto the biggest pairing he’s in. Either way, it’s just a really unfortunate turn of events. (of course, I’m still merely speaking from my neck of the woods, there could be other stuff going on outside it that I don’t know anything about.)

In short, I suppose I just wanted to say: hey, it’s sad to see you (and others) feeling upset or disheartened by potential botting in a simple SW fandom poll with the potential origin being a kyluxer, and maybe this could help at least give you a different viewpoint and understanding of what might be going on behind the scenes. Still, yet again, neither you nor anyone else has to care about or agree with anything I’ve said, I simply felt a desire to do so as a follower of you, awareness of this poll, and a kyluxer myself.

So first off, I do appreciate your thoughtful response! And I'll clarify a bit on what I was talking about and why I made the statement. Now I will admit that I do not have 100% concrete proof of anything, what I have is my own observations, those observations confirmed by others, plus some information that is admittedly rumour, but is from people I trust who aren't the type to start shit and wouldn't say anything unless it was something they'd personally seen or had no reason to doubt

And I don't think recruiting friends outside the fandom to vote is botting or any other kind of cheating - it's not, everyone does that, I don't think that's an issue at all and is within fairness. What I'm talking about is actual botting, using fake accounts to vote. Which, if you have either the programming know how or a bit of money to pay for a bot that's pre-made, is a lot easier than people think it is. I know how one could do it manually, but I do not know enough about programming to automate it (and I won't explain how, because then it might give more people ideas lmao). I don't think this is widespread either, like one single person with the know how can 100% make hundreds accounts and have them vote within a few minutes. And, if they've ever botted a poll before, it's even faster because the accounts may have already been made

So it started with me watching the poll near the end (I voted within the first couple hours of it being posted, but I was curious how it would turn out). I refreshed with 45-60 minutes left and saw 'oh Hux is gonna lose, okay, too bad but it is what it is' because he was at ~8% and the next lowest was Anakin, who was just under 12%. As the time ticked down, I refreshed again and saw a sudden shift, which surprised me. At that point, I started refreshing every minute or so because it kept going, every refresh was a big jump even at that frequency. Within less than 10 minutes (I don't recall the exact timeframe, but it was very fast, too fast), the total vote count had increased by about 300 or so and I watched it surge with every refresh. The vast majority of these votes, if not all of them, were for Hux as his percentage was the only one that increased significantly (the rest increased by less than a full percentage point, if they didn't decrease)

So while you can't see how many votes went for each person, polls do have the total vote count at the bottom and you can see the percentages, so you can tell if there's a sudden increase in overall votes and if those affect on particular vote choice more than any other. Which is why I found this suspicious because that many votes, that quickly, overwhelmingly for one option, it's highly unlikely it was done by real humans. Plus, we've all seen what happens with big polls both here and on twitter - people have literally paid like $200 to bot polls before and it seems sadly to just be becoming something people do

After I saw that jump, I went and talked to some friends in a private discord we use for chatting and some of them, too, had been watching the poll and having similar suspicions to myself. A more tech-savvy one said this is the kind of increases that are consistent with the use of bots. A couple of people also mentioned they had heard people talking about botting, but weren't sure if that was a joke or not (and it may have been, even if there was botting, it may not have been these people). I can't reveal much more without compromising the identities of my friends, who didn't want to speak out about their suspicions because they don't want to get targeted or anything. I am far beyond caring about that lmao, so I chose to say something about it because idk this kind of thing just really irritates me and as a kyluxer for a very long time, I feel like it's the duty of people in a fandom to call out bad behaviour of our fellows in a rational, non-harassing way

Now, again, I admit none of this is concrete proof. And if I'm wrong and everything was above board and someone did manage to conjure a few hundred people all at the same time at the last minute, well, that's genuinely miraculous like unbelievably so lmao, so good for them. If so, I'll rescind the post, apologize, and go back to having fun. But from the pov of statistics, what I saw myself, what my friends saw, and the added rumours, like. I have to say that actual botting seems far more likely to me. You're welcome to disagree, or think this isn't enough evidence to say it for sure happened, but I wanted to say something regardless because if someone is botting, or even just thinking about it, maybe pointing it out will shame them into stopping so we can go back to having fun

I hope you're right and it wasn't happening, and hell, it may not have even been a kyluxer if it was (there are non-kylux Hux fans out there), but I just find it hard to believe it wasn't happening at this point between what I saw, what others saw, and what I heard. And I think it's better to point out fandom bad behaviour than let it continue unchecked. I refuse to let that kinda shit happen if I can do something about it

#I hope this makes sense #like yes it's rumour but it's also based on my own and others' observations too #and I think occam's razor is sadly pointing to botting rather than the alternative #but I'm just presenting the information I have - if it's wrong I will always admit that #I do appreciate the discussion though #ask tag #anon #text #long post

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chaithetics · 4 hours

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frothing at the mouth for any norm fics

Gaps of Sunlight

Pairing: Norm Maclean (Fallout) x f reader Word count: 4.5K Gif by @klausbens Warning: Barely proofread, pining, longing, maybe a little fluff and angst? a jab at Chet's weird crush, this is set before the events of Fallout S1 so some 'foreshadowing' I guess but doesn't have any spoilers! Mitski inspired! A/N: Ask and you shall receive 🙏(translation: thank you for enabling me!!!) This is my first time writing Norm and it's the most fun I've had with writing a fic in a long time! I feel like I'm a more descriptive writer and I haven't had an idea flow like this in quite a while. I feel like this is similar to 'Porce and the Shark' in terms of writing? Idk how well this flows as a story lol?!?! I've barely written any angst and I haven't really done any yearning, so I hope this is good! So please validate, I just felt like I was never going to finish or/fix it enough so I thought I'd post it as is. Thought about the queen of angst, @inknopewetrust's work a lot when I started writing this. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🫶

You lay in bed as you couldn’t help but think about it all. Once again. You could go outside to the corn fields but all that could offer you was a projection from a time and place well before you were even conceived as an idea. You’d never really know what the sunlight felt like, how it would heat your chin and what it would be like to bathe in that light. You had tried to live vicariously through that with what approved, classic literature had survived the war and through the vaults. Shakespeare didn’t offer you much beyond metaphors that were just out of your grasp with relatability to your environment, you hadn’t particularly enjoyed Chaucer, an opinion you’d kept from your father. While the Brontë sisters were able to perfectly let you know what rain in a different continent would’ve felt like against your face and how it would’ve smelt and made your shoes feel to run across an English countryside, they never enlightened you about what being bathed in sunlight would feel like. There were only so many times you could read and annotate Homer’s works awaiting a revelation.

Despite how everyone else moved around Vault 33, it was impossible for you to not help but wonder more of life. What it all was, and what it all meant.

You pull yourself out of a possible mental spiral and quickly get ready for the day as it eases on just as every other day does in the Vault. There’s breakfast with a pleasant conversation with your family, and you teach English classes to the youth of Vault 33, you participate in other extracurriculars just like most of the other Vault dwellers but teaching takes up the bulk of each of your days. You don’t mind that at all though, you enjoy it, even on days where everything feels like a complete rut. The mornings when the blue of the vault suits feels like too much, the pleasantries feel more like programming than authentic connections.

It had started like every other day and classes had happened accordingly, there was now the communal reprieve of lunch. As you slowly chew you look up and see him across the dining hall, despite being from the poster-perfect vault family, he’s Vault 33’s very own black sheep, Norman MacLean. He’s sitting there silently while his dad and Lucy are happily chatting away. Each taking turns trying to lure him into conversation, which he rejects each time with a quick, blink and you’ll miss it shake of his head. The same expression he always wears these days and has for years is etched onto his face, a chronic look of apathy.

You can’t help but stare at him for a moment, watching the way he looks on almost blankly. Even from across the room, you can see every thought in those brown doe eyes as if he’s saying them aloud. How is it that he’s still so misunderstood?

You’d grown up with Norm, he’d always been nice to you, even when you were at school. But that wasn’t exceptional, that was the whole thing with vault-dwellers, being nice people, even from a very young age. It’s not exactly a melting pot of cultures in the Vault like you know the surface once was but the culture is to be nice, chirpy, and practical.

Norm was nice, he had a quiet charm, he’d be a good politician, just in a different way and style as his father, he was practical but he didn’t have a cheery disposition. He lacked enthusiasm and at times it seemed to almost fascinate him how much that little rebellion could bother people. He didn’t put himself out there and you remember how he was smart, he knew answers to the questions that were asked but he’d never put his hand up for them.

It made you wonder at times if he was scared of his own voice. You feel your eyes squinting as you look at him wondering that question, as if studying his jawline for another minute or watching him lift his fork up to his mouth will tell you.

With a deep breath, you tilt your head discreetly to look around to see if anyone noticed your infatuated staring but nobody seems to. You still put a polite, chirpy smile on your face in case anyone did. That should be enough for anyone to notice anything your eyes might’ve been betraying.

Your mind still stays on him, because as always, you might see him better than anyone else but he is still a puzzle with pieces you have yet to find the corners to.

You’re sitting near the cornfield, trying to live vicariously in a world that’s not yours, one that will always be out of touch, just trapped into ink on a page and repeated for the ears of children, to fulfil a mission. But it’s his voice that pulls you out of the inner world of classical Greek horrors.

“Sunny day today.” He says as he looks down at you as you sit on the chair and look at his standing form. He says it as if it isn’t sunny every day with that projection meant to convince you of what the surface once knew and not instead fall flat and be more reminiscent of golden Hollywood-esque crops on sets of the films that have survived. Norm’s voice is quiet, he’s just as soft-spoken as you remember him being so long ago. His tone is bored, but it doesn’t deter you, how could it when he’s standing in front of you looking into your eyes?

He looks into your eyes, taking in the colour, worried that someday he could forget the flicks closest to your eyes. They might rearrange if he doesn’t look at them for another ten seconds to appreciate them. He could forget them. But he never would.

“Just like your disposition.” You quietly tease, offering him a shy smile.

Just as if it’s somehow not always sunny, a rare occasion worth being spoken about, so is his unchanging character. But beyond adding in a couple of cups of more confidence perhaps, you don’t think there’s much else that could be worth editing.

“And for that exact reason, I’m surprised I’m getting a job transfer with the reasoning being my enthusiasm levels.” He says with a breathless chuckle.

You tilt your head as you look up at him, he’s still standing, the toe of his shoe almost toying with something invisible on the artificial emerald green grass. You’d put your thumb in your book when he’d arrived but now you put your bookmark in and gently close it. Placing it gently on your lap.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d both finished your education, having had jobs and duties in the vault was important for its efficiency and functionality. But still, this wouldn’t be Norm’s second job. You were still the teacher you’d been assigned at the start of your adult life, most people in the vault only ever had one job, sometimes they would change and so have had two in their whole life and of course, there would be a change of two or sometimes three for overseers, but three while still being so young was very rare. You had questions and internal crises about this world all the time, there was always a moment somewhere in your world that you felt slightly out of place. But still, contentment had found a way to settle in your bones much easier than it did for him.

“What were the enthusiasm levels?” You ask quietly, slowly blinking. You already know the answer.

Norm looks down at the ground, at the grass he could tug out and it would just never grow back. No matter how desperately everyone would want to pretend it would. His foot is so close to yours, mere inches away, the toe of his shoe could just brush against yours and no one would know.

“Nought.” He says with disinterest, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as his eyes stay planted on the ground.

“Something will stick eventually.” You say.

You say stick, you don’t say that there will definitely be something he loves or that it’ll all be okay, it’s not what he wants to hear and you don’t know if there’s a role in this world that you both live in that would fulfil him as much as his father is fulfilled by being Overseer. He appreciates that. But he needs to change the subject.

“Is a literature teacher always reading?” He questions as if it’s a riddle that might amuse him.

“More likely to happen than finding them counting.” You say as you tilt your head. You don’t remember the last time he approached you for conversation, or the last time that he did and there were this many words. It would’ve been back when you were younger, still classmates. You can’t track an exact memory down which surprises you.

“So, what’s that one?” He asks looking at the book in your lap for a moment before his eyes slowly gaze back to your face, making eye contact for the first time in over a minute. You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at this. You feel seen as his eyes rake up and take in every facial feature and unique mark on you.

Everyone makes a false and fatal assumption about Norm. They assume that because he’s not extroverted and over-the-top warm like Lucy or Hank, that he’s not charming. That’s complete crap. You know it’s false. He’s not the same as his family or a lot of the people in your home vault but without a doubt, Norman MacLean oozes charisma. He knows just when to turn it on and how to utilise it in the best way with each person. And right now, it’s working on you.

“The Three Theban plays, by Sophocles.” You whisper as your eyes bore into him, you don’t dare to blink. Too scared that he might just disappear if you do, and that when your eyes open again, this will all be confirmed as another of one of your many daydreams about him. “They’re tragedies, I’m reading Antigone, at the moment.” You feel yourself latching each word onto the next word as if you’re climbing a ladder and need to build more rungs at the same time, there’s some intrinsic need in you to draw this out for just a few more moments. His presence gives you some kind of glow. You finally blink, your eyes not able to hold it anymore, he’s somehow still standing in front of you once your lids open. You immediately wonder if you’ve said too much and try to fight the urge to sigh but the urge to not let on how embarrassed you feel is more of a priority, you need to keep that internal.

“And what has that taught you?” He asks with a small smile.

Someone else might’ve found the tone cold. If someone else had asked that exact question, it might’ve felt condescending. But you know exactly what it is.

Norm knows better, not better than you, he’s not that kind of arrogant. It’s because he’s always known that he knows better than most in these reinforced concrete and metal walls you all live in. But you live in a meritocracy. Everyone is in constant pursuit to be kind and to better and upskill as a contributing member of Vault society. Of course if someone’s openly reading it’s an academic pursuit, to be more well-read, that they can learn an important tale and moral lesson, or to use it as a quote to whip out at a convenient time in a council meeting or for intellectual criticism of another philosopher or writer’s thesis. And you both know it’s why each book that was chosen for survival by Vault-Tec was carefully curated, all in the name of intellectual pursuits and other reasons beyond either of your imagination.

“Just further proof why we have rules against familial relations.” You reply after a slow blink, you remember what his sense of humour used to be like in class, how teachers would occasionally stifle an eye roll and sigh or would take a moment to then replaster their smile back on. You look at him, and your eyes can’t help but take in the shape of his nose as if you hadn’t already committed it to memory a thousand times before now.

“Hah.” He says quietly, as if it’s amusing, which he finds to be a little as he lets out a small chuckle and his mouth quirks up and that makes you happy. It’s an expression that doesn’t grace his handsome face often. “Might need to pass that on to Chet, if that’s the case, I doubt he’s read it.”

You let out a chuckle at that, and Norm’s brow furrows for a mere second as he takes you in. His mouth is still in a small smile but not many people find his humour to actually be humorous, his father and Lucy love him but he earns more small sighs and tired smiles from them than anything close to a laugh.

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with this copy.” You reply with another slow blink.

You watch his mouth, mentally tracing his lips with your eyes as he sucks his lips for a moment and nods, his eyes dropping to the ground again. It’s only then that you realise how close the toes of your feet are to each other. He couldn’t be looking down because of that, or thinking about that though. You are cursed to yearn in silence. “Appreciate it.” He says with a small smirk as he looks up at your eyes, he raises his eyebrows slightly to replace any verbal goodbyes and he walks off.

Norm leaves you as he found you minutes before, all alone in false sunlight with a book in your hands. You still haven’t found the missing puzzle pieces.

It had been four days now. Four days since you’d had that conversation with Norm, there had been plenty of stolen glances, and a few returned smiles when your eyes met across corridors or the dining hall, but Norman MacLean was still, one of the only things occupying your mind.

You wouldn’t complain, why would you? How could you when the fact that those glances, and snippets of conversations were now a supercut in your head that provided comfort whenever you started to get into another emotional crisis about vault life and what the history was that had brought everyone to this point. But still, you couldn’t help but sometimes worry over this yearning. How unrequited it could be. How unrequited it felt.

You felt a hunger in the pit of your stomach each time that you saw his shadow, each time you two made eye contact you couldn’t help but feel as if it was a caress on your skin, even though the only time he’d touched you was to help you up when you’d fallen over outside when you were seven. He’d insisted on being the one to put the excessive amount of band-aids on your grazed hands. Hank had stood back and watched, finding it endearing, how concentrated Norm’s face was at such a young age. Maybe they should’ve thought about trialling him in medicine, but no, he probably still lacked the desired enthusiasm during the first-aid training vault-dwellers did.

You were seated with your family for a council update, everyone gathered to sit on the folded chairs, you and your family were always extremely punctual, you sat with them on one side while the other was still a row of a few empty seats.

As people slowly trickle in you see Norm come in, he looks mentally fatigued as he looks around, you turn your head to face your family so you don’t catch his eye in hopes of him not noticing your stare. How pathetic would he think you are if he saw you looking at him like a wide-eyed puppy, begging for love? You can imagine, but you don’t want to know. After a moment you hear somebody sit down next to you, the chatter of people finding seats fills your ears but you don’t hear any from whoever sits down. You feel their arm brush against yours, you know it’s nothing but you instinctively turn to see who it is and to give them a polite and welcoming smile.

It’s Norm. Of course, it’s Norm. But why is it? He’s just facing ahead so he hasn’t acknowledged you yet, although you’re sure he can see your smile and look in his peripheral vision. “Hey.” You say quietly in a warm voice as you look at his handsome side profile, he shouldn’t look that good. His face shouldn’t be so perfectly sculpted. “Hi.” He says quietly as he tilts his head giving you a small look that seems dramatically playful which makes you smile, and let out a silent chuckle. Norm’s face turns back ahead to face the front where his father now stands and the council sit. Your eyes follow his gaze and you turn back in your seat to look straight ahead as Hank MacLean starts his updates in his usual down-to-earth, selfless leader tone.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, him choosing this seat, you even wonder if his arm brushing against you was intentional as he sat down and then again you wonder if you were being crazy for wondering that. As Hank’s words go on to fill the air, they don’t really fill your head, that’s too busy being at full capacity with thoughts of Norman. You rub your chin after a moment, hoping the feeling of your fingertips and nails against your chin might create a sensory distraction. You get a completely different kind of sensory distraction when his arm gently brushes against yours as he leans back in his seat, he adjusts himself so that your shoulders are touching and you can feel his arm against yours. You can’t help but silently gasp, hoping he doesn’t hear it and your breath traps itself as you hold your breath. Feeling far too scared to move. It has to be intentional, you look at him through the corner of your eye as you try not to move. He’s still looking ahead, his expression unfazed as he looks at the people in front of him but he’s still sitting in that position. He hasn’t moved his arm.

It’s intentional.

You try to breathe again as your cheeks heat up, and you bite the corner of your lip. The feeling of his arm against yours sends shivers up your spine and you can feel the warmth of that small point of contact radiating throughout the rest of your body.

The connection you feel with Norm is deep and for the first time in quite a while, this simple gesture of touching arms makes you wonder if these years of yearning maybe aren’t unrequited. You feel your shoulders start to slowly rise and fall again at this thought, this movement hasn’t disturbed Norm away. A smile grows on your face like the corn that’s picked around the year, as you smile and look ahead. The meeting continues like this, it isn’t till the end that you lose that gentle, physical touch, sweet connection that you long for as Norm gets up and leaves to carry on with his day, you smile as he stands up, he gives you as small smile and walks away. You’re now touch-starved all over again, and you think it feels more hollow after feeling a touch from him.

Maybe one day it won’t be just your arms touching but instead your hands, your hands will brush against each other and then your fingers will interlock together. You’re better at camouflaging but you’re certain that your souls are made of and connected by the same things.

It’s been what feels like an eternity since you felt Norm’s simple touch, it’s occupied every thought and been the reason behind nearly every smile since it happened. The question is though, has it been haunting Norm at all? You know he isn’t seeing anyone, secrets like that don’t exist here and it would certainly be talk with how introverted Norm is.

Hours is the amount of time you’ve spent trying to think of a reason to approach him but nothing feels right and you decide against it anytime you get close to it. You try to find any excuse to visit him and the one you can think of is beyond pathetic, and you know that.

You find another copy of a collection of plays and decide to give it to Norm, for him to decide whether he wants to read it or to fulfil a bit. It’s not a good reason, but it’s the best you’d been able to come up with. And at least with the book in your hands there would be some comfort in the pages, the smell of them and the remaining dust that haunted the corners that had been facing the wall. It can ground you and be something to hold onto anxiously while you make a fool of yourself. Norm conveniently answers after you’ve knocked at the MacLean family unit. He looks at your face and raises his eyebrows slightly, his face switches from an apathetic expression to one a bit warmer. “Hey.” You say, smiling at him but you think it must come off as panicked and scared as you look at him with wide eyes and feel an anxious parasite growing and feeding off of you in your brain.

“Hi.” He says as he steps back letting you come into the unit. You walk in, and it’s nice and tidy but it’s the same as essentially your family unit and every other unit in Vault 33. You blink as you look around for a couple of seconds and your eyes land back on him, he’s been watching you the whole time.

“After Lucy?” He asks and you feel your cheeks heat up, you liked Lucy, she was an extremely lovely person and you did consider her a close friend. “No.” You shake your head, the admission makes you feel like coming here was an even worse idea than what you thought it was just a few minutes ago. “I brought a copy of tragedies, in case you needed any dark reading, or wanted to… pass them on…” You continue and bite your lip for a second.

Norm lets out a little chuckle that shakes his shoulders for a second but it’s borderline silent, almost not real. He looks into your eyes and takes a step closer, you’re not sure if he’s going to do the hospitality script you learn from a young age of offering a glass of water or cup of old Joe.

Instead, he quickly steps closer and Norm places his hands on the back of your neck, you sharply exhale and you know that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up. The feeling of goosebumps on every inch of your skin overwhelms your senses as his lips finally crash down.

His lips are slightly chapped and you can feel that against yours, the fine lines and cracks as they press against your mouth. There’s nothing you can do but melt into his touch as you’re overcome with warmth. But there isn’t anything else you’d want to do anyway.

There’s nothing else you can imagine feeling that feels this good. You kiss him back instinctively and put your hand into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hair is soft and you run your fingers through it as you feel his tongue, and it’s a clash of your mouths against the other.

You immediately wonder if the physical warmth of where your bodies come into contact, his breath against your face, his warm lips, and the warmth that envelops you internally is what sunlight feels like. This feeling basks you in what you imagine would be similar to being basked in the light of sunrays would.

You don’t know how long this lasts, it feels like a sweet lifetime but still deliciously short as you kiss and feel his hair while his hand is gentle on the back of your neck. Like all things, it eventually ends. You look at each other with widened eyes and pant as your lips are no longer in contact. Your cheeks heat up and you almost want to giggle. You see his face is flushed and his eyes shine, you think it’s adoration but you could be projecting.

“My dad will be back soon.” He whispers knowingly as his eyes look glassy. “Oh.” You look around as if that’ll help you feel more composed. You weren’t expecting this to end so abruptly, this felt like something straight out of a dream and now it was a cold end, something want to shapeshift into a nightmare. You know you should leave, you’re feeling far too flustered to try and have a conversation with Hank and you know this isn’t a conversation Norman wants to try navigating around with his father. “We um… Well, we need to talk…” You breathe out.

He smiles and whispers your name, the tone is reverent as he says each syllable. “Not now.” His eyes look a little less glassy but it’s still a visible sheen and you can see it, the sun has withdrawn a little.

“Not now?” You repeat, it comes out as a shaky question though as you feel every muscle in your body tense.

This is rejection, this is what puts all those protagonists you’ve read of into a depression that only the seaside can cure if anything can cure it. Being in this vault, you don’t think you can ask for cornfield projections to change to windy cliffs with waves crashing and the artificial grass to be replaced with manmade sand. You’d always wondered about the sunlight but now you’d have to wonder what sand from a beach felt like as well.

“No.” He whispers. “That isn’t fair. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you.

“When?” “Maybe when you finish the book, not a copy, your book.”

“Not a copy?” Your face scrunches up, as your brain runs screaming.

“No.” He answers. “Yours probably has thoughtful annotations or something right?” He asks.

“Or something.” You whisper back.

“I’ll read that.” He says.

You nod, as you pick up the spare copy and walk out from the MacLean unit, you don’t feel like you’re controlling your body right now, it must be some form of muscle memory. Maybe you need to read and reread every book in the vault to further investigate if what you just felt was sunlight. Or, you wonder, are you still under gaps of sunlight, missing Norm more than anything?

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