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yuta-nakamots · 4 years

Text

Playing Games - n.yt

Pairing - Frat Boy!Yuta x Reader

Genre - College!AU, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst

Warnings - Safe sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

Summary - Yuta is a notorious frat boy known for sleeping around with tons of girls yet never getting into a relationship. You never would have thought you’d become entangled with him until fate ends up placing both of you in the same beginner guitar class during your spring semester.

Word Count - 11.2k

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight for helping me work out some of the plot!

Tag List - @jisungismymom @jikooksgirl19 @jungcity @boiolay @yasmini24

Written for the Bingo Collab hosted by @legendnct. Check out the masterlist here.

Prompts;

"Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” – Pink Sweat$ - Honesty

“So won’t you say my name, say my name?”– summer walker - playing games

“Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms” – Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

“Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?”– H.E.R - focus

“Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”– McKay & Jeff Bernat - Angel 2 Me

It’s the first day of your second semester of college and you’re starting to rethink your decision of signing up for Guitar 101 as you step into the classroom. You don’t remember what pushed you to add this course to your schedule other than the fact that it would knock off two off your graduation requirements, though surely there were other courses that could’ve done that as well.

You were quite the beginner to guitar, having only touched one maybe only a few times in your life and you were sure that you absolutely would not have ever thought about taking Guitar 101 if it wasn’t for your friend Mark, who had suggested it to you.

Mark is a sweet guy and you just so happened to have the pleasure of meeting last semester in your math class. He had walked in late on the first day and took the seat next to you as he muttered something about the campus being too big and not having building names displayed clearly.

Your friendship truly started the day he came in without any of his belongings, not even his backpack. “I, uh, woke up late and ran to class. Literally.” You could tell from the way sections of his hair were standing up and how his white t-shirt was inside out, but you didn’t tell him that.

“If it’s okay with you, can you send me your notes later?” He asked, his eyes resembling that of boba. Mark let out an audible sigh of relief when you agreed and handed him your phone to type in his number. As soon as he gave it back to you, you sent him a message to make sure he typed it correctly and it was at that moment that Mark realized, after a whole month of sitting next to you and occasionally working together, he had yet to remember your name.

‘Hey, this is y/n. Still can’t believe you forgot your backpack’

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces and you always did your work together at any given opportunity, finding that two heads are definitely better than one when it came to calculus. Sometimes working on projects together often led to you and Mark spending more time together and eventually leading both of your guys’ friends to speculate that you were dating, to which you insisted was not true.

Your friends seemed to understand and leave it be, though Mark’s friends were a whole different story. He was part of one of the newest frats on campus which had come to fame due to their good-looking members, not a single one of them falling even a hair short of having god-tier visuals. You recognized a few of them, having been to their frat house a couple of times to work on projects with Mark though most of them were older than you so it came as a surprise to you when you saw one of them in your beginner guitar class.

You didn’t know his name but he was easy to remember with his long black hair and his ever-changing fashion sense. Today, he resembled something out of a motorcycle magazine with his maroon leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and the bandana tied around his head.

You watched as he took a seat in the front of the room though you had enough sense to turn your attention back to the professor who had started class and was displaying a list of names with corresponding locker numbers that housed the guitar you’d be using.

Standing up with the rest of the class, you went to go find your own locker and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was on the bottom row because that meant less effort to take it in and out rather than if you had one on the top row.

Right as you popped your lock open, a shadow was cast over you and you turned around to see Mark’s friend who was even more stunning up close. He flashed you a quick smile along with an apology as he moved to the side to give you more room and allow you to grab your guitar out from the locker.

You were just slightly irritated at the guy. People with good looks knew how to use them to their advantage and this man obviously knew what he was doing. Had he been sane, he could’ve just waited for you to get your stuff out before getting his own, but instead, he chose to tower over you as you were crouching down on the floor.

Your eyes followed his figure as he made his way back to his seat in the front of the room, sitting down in front of the professor and you rolled your eyes knowing that he’s going to have an ego as tall as a skyscraper.

Aside from your encounter with the nameless e-boy, your first class went pretty okay though you were already having a little trouble remembering which chords were which so you sent a text to Mark asking for tips. He responds a few minutes later with fingering charts and even offers to tutor you, which you gladly accept.

You and Mark had appointed Wednesday afternoons and Sunday mornings as your lesson times and the first time you visit him is on the former. It was February so the weather was still quite cold though it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret not wearing a thicker jacket.

Before you could even text Mark that you’re outside the frat house, the door opens and he pulls you in, visibly shivering due to only being in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Not so Canadian are you, huh?” You joke at him, seeing the once thick-skinned boy now struggling to warm himself up as he practically ran up the stairs to his room.

You followed him up, greeting his roommate, Taeil, when you passed him in the hallway. Taeil was the oldest member of the frat and was set to graduate at the end of the semester. He had you absolutely fooled when you first met him. His personality reminded you of a golden meadow or a sunny beach but he was a total animal when it came to parties though Mark had told you that you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Having seen Taeil out in the hallway, you thought you and Mark would be the only ones in the room so you weren’t expecting to see the same guy from guitar class lying around on Mark’s bed. “Yuta, this is y/n, y/n meet Yuta.”

Yuta gave you that same smile you saw on the first day of class as he told Mark, “oh, I know her, she’s in my guitar class.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. You guys can work together on projects and the playing tests then. Man, that course would’ve been way more fun if I could play with someone I knew.” You shot Mark an awkward smile as if telling him to move on because you highly doubted that you’d ever want to work with Yuta, especially if his ego was as big as you thought it was. He’d call you out left and right for even the tiniest mistakes and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.

Mark cleared his throat while grabbing his guitar and handing it to you, and Taeil’s guitar to Yuta. “Yeah so, uh, anyway, I thought it would be better to teach you guys at the same time since you both are at the same level if that’s okay with you.” Mark’s question was obviously aimed towards you however Yuta answered first without any hesitation.

“Works for me.” Yuta looked over to you, strands of his white locks falling in front of his eyes though it didn’t dampen the intensity of his gaze in the slightest.

You didn’t exactly like the idea of playing with an audience, even if it was just Yuta. But if he was a beginner like you, then theoretically the playing field should be even. It was only because of this did you nod your head, telling Mark, “sure.”

Your first lesson with Mark consisted of his retaught both you and Yuta the fundamentals and basic chords you had already learned, making sure that your hands and fingers were placed the right way. Yuta, who was having a harder time than you, let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the wall next to Mark’s bed while he ripped open a bag of gummy bears. “Whoever gets the fingerings right first gets a gummy bear.”

“Okay, bet.” Not really one for competition, you wanted to refuse his proposal, but this guy was really getting on your nerves. It was as if he had no interest yet all the passion in the world. And that’s aside from the fact that you simply wanted to continue showing him up and proving that you weren’t such a pushover and he can’t simply bend you to his will.

The three of you became so wrapped up in the competition that you didn’t even notice that you were supposed to leave to get to your last class of the day, which was now starting in five minutes. When you glanced over at the clock on Mark’s desk, you practically jumped out of your seat, “holy shit, I’m gonna be late to class.”

“I can drive you if you want.” Yuta offered.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t exactly lying but you weren’t entirely telling the truth as you declined him. It was an eight-minute walk away but you could probably make it in six if you did your Black Friday walk and surely your professor wouldn’t mind if you were just a minute late.

Mark helped you gather your belongings and held his door open for you. “Alright, see you y/n. I’ll set an alarm next time so we don’t forget.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.

As you stepped out of the frat house, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to Yuta. He barely even knew you yet he had offered to drive you to class, even though your campus wasn’t particularly large. There was something about that man that made you want to run for your life but also just stop and stare at him all day.

The second time you had a lesson with Mark is on a Sunday morning and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Yuta is nowhere to be found as you set foot into Mark’s room. After placing your bag down next to Mark’s desk, you pick up Taeil’s guitar and join him on his bed while he quietly plays a song to himself.

“Yuta’s still knocked out from the party we had yesterday so I doubt he’ll be joining us.” Mark informed you, and his statement rang true as Yuta did not come in during all of the three hours you spent next to Mark, much to your relief. Instead, Taeil had come in, looking terribly hungover.

“Hey, what’s up man.” Is all Taeil got to say before rolling into his bed, putting in a single Airpod before falling asleep, much to both you and Mark’s amusement.

Mark had tried to teach you basic chord sequences and strumming patterns but your brain just wasn’t having it. He kept giggling at seeing you frustrated and you had to repeatedly tell him to shut up in fear of waking Taeil so eventually both of you decided to call it a day as you put the guitars back on their stands.

You got back onto the bed next to Mark as both of you played on your phones for a bit before he turned his off and turned to talk to you. “Hey, y/n, so the guys are throwing this party next week Saturday and I was wondering if you’d want to come.”

“Next Saturday...Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you check your calendar on your phone.

“Yeah. You don’t have to though if you already have other plans.” Mark blurted out.

You laughed at the thought of actually going on a date on Valentine’s Day. “Didn’t have any plans besides ordering take-out and watching Netflix.”

Mark laughed along with you. “So is that a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna sleepover too since you’re gonna be here on Sunday morning anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at Mark, wondering if he was actually serious.

“Sounds convenient but then where are you gonna sleep?” You countered.

“Uh, in Taeil’s bed.” Mark said, the gears in his head almost visibly turning.

“And where is he going to sleep?” You ask, not wanting to cause the kind senior any extra stress from having to deal with Mark as a roommate on top of his impending graduation.

Mark reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, probably somewhere on the floor downstairs.” Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Okay wait, before you yell at me, Taeil always gets too hammered to make it back up to the room until like, Sunday afternoon as you clearly just saw.” He explained, gesturing to his sleeping body on the other side of the room.

“Okay, then. But if he gets mad, it’s your fault, your idea, not mine.”

By the time Valentine’s Day came around, you were more than ready for it to end, having been annoyed by all the lovey-dovey advertisement and the couples posting on Instagram and holding hands and kissing wherever you went. You had always heard that love finds its way to those who are least expecting it, which is why you gave up the thought of ever pining over a guy who was likely to reject you anyway. Though, sure enough, love really did find a way of messing with your life in more than one way.

When you arrived at the party, you had first gone up to Mark’s room to drop off your bag that held your change of clothes and personal hygiene supplies. You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you entered his room, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see Mark’s bare ass while he was fucking into a girl in his bed, the same bed you were supposed to sleep in at the end of the night. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry y/n, can you just uh, come back in a bit-”

You were pretty sure you were just as embarrassed as Mark, shouting “alright, have fun dude” as you closed the door. You turned around to search for somewhere else to go, pondering on the idea of just going back to your dorm after the party and walked right into Taeil.

“Should I not go in there?” He asked, having seen the way you backed out of the room and closed the door.

“Not unless you wanna see Mark’s butt.”

“Eh, I see it from time to time, can’t be any worse than usual.”

“Taeil, no” you exclaim, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away before he could open the door.

“Oh, you mean to see his butt while he’s doing that kind of thing, I get it now.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you planning on sleeping over?” He asked, having noticed the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder.

You let out a sigh before answering. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in Mark’s bed and he was gonna sleep in yours since he said you apparently get too fucked up to make it back to the room.” At which Taeil laughs as he nodded his head, acknowledging the statement.

“He’s certainly not wrong,” Taeil confirmed, “did you want to put that down somewhere? I can let you keep it in our lounge room during the party. It’s a members-only room so you can just ask one of the guys to open it for you later in case I’m already out.”

You can’t help but giggle at Taeil’s joke as you accept his offer, following him down the hallway to a door where he punches in some numbers onto a keypad before opening it. Your jaw dropped when you looked inside, being met with a huge U-shaped couch facing the back wall where a large TV was mounted. “What do you guys even do in here?”

“Usually just gaming, sometimes watching big sports matches. Just normal guys stuff. We agreed to no sex, drugs, or alcohol in here so it’s like a safe room of sorts I guess.” Taeil explained to you.

“Huh, didn’t think you guys would have something like this.” You told him as you placed your duffle bag against the wall near the door.

“Frat life isn’t just all about getting high and drunk you know, y/n,” he said, playfully scoffing at you, “but speaking of, would you like to get a drink downstairs?” You nod your head before walking alongside Taeil as he places an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down to the party.

As you pass by Mark’s room along the way to the stairs, both you and Taeil share a laugh as you could hear the faint noises of sex through the door, though you really just wanted to erase the image of Mark’s ass from your head. Taeil seems to understand this much as he takes you to the kitchen and tells Doyoung, the frat’s resident entrepreneur with a side hobby for mixology, to get you something strong.

You’ve met Doyoung a couple of times, though you only exchanged short greetings since you were always doing something with Mark. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He inquired.

“Who?”

“Mark.”

“Oh, we’re not dating. He’s in his room though.”

“Sure seems like you’re dating. Why isn’t he here with you?”

Taeil responds, saving you from having to explain to Doyoung. “He’s getting lucky with some other girl.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide as he responds, “that’s a first for him.”

You were about to ask what he meant by that but you’re interrupted by loud yells coming from the living room, causing you to turn around and see what was going on. You spot Yuta standing up on the makeshift DJ booth in the corner of the room with Johnny, who you recognized as your TA in your English class, as he grabbed the microphone and shouted “let’s get fucking drunk” before Johnny could manage to yank it out of his grasp and turn it off.

“What’s with that guy?” You mumble to yourself, not really expecting Doyoung to overhear you.

“Oh, Yuta? He’s just like that sometimes.” Doyoung states, shrugging his shoulders as he wiped the kitchen counter with a towel. “He’s that one friend who does really questionable things but you can’t get rid of them because deep down they’re actually pretty nice.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think he’s nice?”

“He is once you get to know him.”

You look at Taeil for reaffirmation only to find that said man is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is his yellow phone left lying on the counter next to Doyoung’s own drink. “I’ve gotten to know him and I wouldn’t say he’s nice, per se.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you, “you just haven’t cracked him open yet.”

“Why do you talk as if he’s an egg or something?” You joke laughing to yourself and watching as Doyoung fights back a smile.

“He is, in a sense. He’s got a tougher exterior along with his own inner issues that come tumbling out once he trusts you.”

“Like?”

Doyoung hums in thought before speaking. “I’m not gonna say too much because it’s his life and his own story to tell, but let me just ask you this one question. Don’t you ever wonder why he constantly sleeps around with girls yet never gets into a relationship with any of them?”

You ponder on the question before asking one back. “So are the rumors true?” Yuta’s reputation did precede him and you had, in fact, heard from other girls who had their own stories and adventures with Yuta but you didn’t necessarily believe them completely, not wanting to assume anything about Yuta.

“Some, not all...but yes, most of the ones I have heard were true, but maybe that’s just because people know I live with him so there’s no sense in trying to lie around me.” Doyoung responds to which you nod your head, acknowledging the accuracy behind his statement.

Three shots later of whatever Doyoung was making you, you were already starting to feel hot and lightheaded so you went back upstairs, as per Doyoung’s advice, and made your way to Mark’s room hoping he’d be done by now. You cracked his door open and peeked around it, grumbling to yourself as you saw your best friend and the same girl from earlier wrapped up in his blanket. You weren’t too sure where you were going to sleep tonight and you weren’t too keen on walking back to your dorm this late at night, especially when you were already starting to feel tipsy.

Closing the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two people inside, you step away from the room, only to run into someone behind you. You spun around, ready to apologize until you realized who it was. Yuta, a quite drunk Yuta too.

“Taeil told me Mark got lucky-” he stopped to hiccup, “but I didn’t fully believe it so I came to-” he hiccuped again, “see for myself, but I think your action speak-” he reached up to briefly rub his eyes, “louder than words” he finished, letting out a yawn at the end. “Need somewhere to stay?”

“How did you know I was sleeping over?” You ask, wary of the man and his intentions.

He waves his hands as if dismissing your preconceived notions. “Taeil told me that too. Makes sense anyway since you’re here on Sunday’s as well.”

You sighed, not wanting to let yourself give in to Yuta yet again and give him another thing to hold over you, but it wasn’t as if you had many other options. “Taeil let me leave my bag in the lounge, can you unlock the door for me? I think I’ll just ask Doyoung to drive me back to my dorm or something.”

Yuta hummed as he grabbed your wrist and led you down the hallway to the lounge. He unlocked the door for you and held it open, but once both of you were inside, he closed the door behind him and turned on the mood lighting and watched as the room began to glow purple.

You picked up your bag as Yuta threw himself over the backrest of the sofa and tumbled onto the cushions. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Well, yeah?” You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden comment.

“Damn, I wanted to be the first.”

“Okay?” You said, questioning his antics as Doyoung’s words floated through your head about Yuta and his trysts with girls, not wanting to become another victim.

As if Yuta could hear you thinking, he sat up and peered over the couch just enough to make eye contact with you, his eyes mischievously shining in the low lighting. “Were you gonna sleep with Mark?” He asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“What? No,” you exclaim, “he’s my best friend, I would never do that.”

“Not like that you sicko,” Yuta said as he chuckled at your flustered state.

“Oh,” realization dawning upon you, “uh, yeah, I was planning to just sleep in his bed and he was gonna take Taeil’s but now I’m pretty sure that’s not happening tonight.”

“You can stay in my room if you want.” Now it was your turn to raise a suggestive eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My roommate is away in China so his side is open. You can sleep in my bed if you’re not comfortable being in a stranger’s bed.” You were surprised he made it through such a long statement without any hiccups.

“Uh, thanks, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.” You say, finally unrooting yourself from the floor and making your way towards the door.

Yuta begins haphazardly pulling himself over the back of the couch seeing as how you were ready to leave the room. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.” He would’ve face planted straight into the floor if it weren’t for you standing right in his path of destruction, barely catching him before he nearly sent both of you to the ground. “Sorry” he giggled as he regained his balance and pushed open the door.

You couldn’t mistake the way his body felt against yours, how warm and comforting it was. He smelled nice too, which was odd for someone who partied like an animal and lived with god knows how many other guys. You shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed your bag, following Yuta out of the lounge.

He led you to the bathroom and instructed you on how to use the shower and lock the door before telling you how to get to his room once you were done. The bathroom was surprisingly neat but you were sure it was thanks to Doyoung and Taeyong, the only two people you thought had their heads on straight in this house. Even if you had only briefly met both of them, it was enough to let you know that those men were the reason why the house somehow looked presentable within just a few hours after a raging party.

You showered quickly, the effect of Doyoung’s drinks really hitting you now, making you want to just pass out. Once you were done showering you threw on one of Mark’s shirts that you had previously stolen, intending on giving it back to him tonight, but you weren’t comfortable wearing your normal beat up sleepwear in front of Yuta, so you opted to wear Mark’s shirt instead.

Not quite wanting to have another incident like the one you had earlier with Mark, you knocked on Yuta’s door just to be safe. You heard him laugh from the inside as he called out “it’s unlocked, just come in.” As you let yourself in, he got off his bed telling you “I’m going to shower now. Just make yourself comfortable in whichever bed you want. I’ll sleep in whatever one you don’t choose.”

After he left the room, you looked between the two beds. One was neatly made and had pictures strung up on the wall next to it, the blankets and sheets folded nicely and placed alongside a few pillows near the foot of the bed. The other, which Yuta had just rolled out of, had wrinkled sheets with the blanket half falling off the bed, not a single pillow within a whole six-foot radius of his bed.

You didn’t really want to mess up the organization of whoever his roommate was, so instead, you just took one of the pillows and plopped it onto Yuta’s bed as you grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over your head, allowing his scent to flood your nose. Just as you were about to drift into sleep, you heard the door open and close followed by rapid footsteps coming your way.

Before you even had time to react, Yuta was flinging himself on top of you and laughing as you gasped for air under his weight. “Somebody looks comfortable.” He teased as you continued squirming, trying to push him off you.

You wouldn’t take him to be a clingy drunk after seeing how rowdy he was during the party, but you suppose this is the side of him that managed to charm so many other girls into thinking they’d be that one lucky girl to finally win over Nakamoto Yuta’s heart. “Get off of me.” You uttered forcefully as you tried to make him move over and relieve the pressure on your chest and stomach.

“You silly, this is my bed” he cooed, letting another round of giggles leave his lips before rolling off you towards the wall, leaving you on the outside of the bed. He threw the blanket over himself, humming as he felt the warmth of it, that you had made, on his freshly showered skin.

Yuta kept his distance as he laid on his back with his eyes closed, his hands reaching up to ruffle his damp hair, speaking of which, “you know people say you can get sick if you go to sleep with damp hair?” You asked him quizzically.

“Yeah, but I’ve never gotten sick from it so I don’t really care.” He said dismissively.

A few moments passed before either one of you spoke again. “Didn’t you say that you were going to sleep in the other bed?” You questioned, remembering your conversation from not too long ago.

“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to unfold everything and put it back in the morning so here I am.” Yuta beamed, smiling over at you. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as he continued playing with his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I can sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with me being here.”

You wanted to say ‘yes, please move’ but you didn’t have enough strength in you to tell him to get out, not when you enjoyed his presence next to you so instead you simply told him “it’s fine” before tugging over more of his blanket and turning to face away from him.

He let out a whine as now half of his body was uncovered and exposed to the cold winter air and he yanked his blanket back, inadvertently pulling you with it, causing you to face him with your forehead nearly resting against his chest. “Why are you hogging my blanket?” Yuta whined.

“I’m not hogging it, you just keep trying to take more than your fair share of it.” You fired back at him.

“This is my room and my blanket.”

“You’re the one who offered to let me stay here, and might I add, you said you were going to sleep in the bed that I didn’t choose.”

“I can always retract my offer, you know.” You shook your head, the idea of asking Doyoung to drive you back to your dorm at 3am wasn’t exactly appealing to you. “Okay then come closer so we can actually share the blanket instead of leaving one of us to freeze.”

You let out a huff and scooted closer to Yuta. “Are you happy now?” Yuta let out a hum as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling underneath the strands of bleached white hair that had fallen in front of his face.

Closing your eyes again, you tried to fall asleep, hoping that you wouldn’t have any further interruptions from Yuta, but you couldn’t seem to fully relax with the main light of the room still on. “Yuta can you turn off the light?” He looked over you, clearly unhappy. “Please?”

“You’re closer.”

“God, why are you so difficult.” You remarked as you slid out from under the blanket, walking over to flip the light switch.

“I’m not difficult, you’re difficult.” He fired at you as the room became dark, illuminated only from the light of the moon. “You’re always so uptight and on edge about getting to class on time and being prepared.”

“Because that’s what a good student does, and unlike you, I actually want to graduate from college in four years.” You spit back as you rolled back into the bed next to him.

“Hey, not everyone graduates within four years, some of us just have a different path in life. And what makes you think that I’m not trying to graduate soon?”

“Your attitude and your seemingly nonexistent care to even make it to class on time.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t do my work though.”

“But you totally miss the instructions that the professors give at the beginning of class.”

“It’s not hard to figure things out when you’ve got a brain as big as mine.”

“You’re so annoying, just let me sleep.” You grumbled as you moved closer to him, wanting more of the blanket.

Silence falls upon both of you again but you let out a huff when Yuta starts talking again. He sure was annoying as hell when he was drunk. “Do you have feelings for Mark, or like, any other guys...like at all?”

You stared up at him, praying he’d feel the daggers coming from your eyes, “no.”

“Good, I was hoping you didn’t so I could do this.”

“Do wha-”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Yuta tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours, eagerly molding his to fit the shape of yours.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you started to kiss him back, in fact, you probably weren’t thinking at all. Yuta took it as a green light and let the hand that was against your chin find its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. You didn’t realize your body had shifted until you were now completely pressed up against him. It soon became all too hot and suffocating, forcing you to pull away and break the kiss.

Your eyes met his and held his gaze as you came to your senses. “Yuta, I’m not here to have sex with you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He replied almost nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes at him, “no, I mean, like ever.”

“Okay. Who says I can’t just kiss a pretty girl because I want to?” He asked, the attitude in his voice was almost enough to make you want to slap him.

“I do?” You quipped. “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me either-”

“Says the person who was definitely not kissing me back.” Yuta teased as he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to continue.

You flung the blanket off of you, not wanting to put up with any more of his antics. “Don’t use your fuckboy charms on me, I’m not here to become another one of your girls.”

“Y/n, wait, that’s not what I meant to do,” he whined, grabbing your wrist before you could fully get out of the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way and for your information, I am not attached any of the ‘girls’ you are alluding to.”

“You attached yourself to them the moment you put your dick inside them and gave them something to talk about.”

“That's not what I intended to do.”

“Then what is it that you intend to do, Yuta?”

He paused with his mouth slightly open and you took this moment to separate your wrist from his grasp before he spoke again. “I don’t try to ‘charm’ them or whatever you call it. I’m not even looking for a relationship, trust me.”

“And why should I trust you when you have girls practically throwing themselves at you?”

Yuta let out a groan as he flopped onto his back. “Look, I never wanted to be this blunt with you but I’m not looking for a relationship because the last one I was in ended with me getting cheated on.” He paused as if letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to fall in love again because I don’t want to risk going through that same pain another time. I’m scared to fall in love because what if it’s not reciprocated? Is that enough to make you believe me?”

You stare at him in shock, barely managing to stutter out “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, let’s just go to sleep, I said too much already.” He interrupted, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket. Once you were close enough for his liking, Yuta let go of you, retracting his arm back to his half of the bed though he stopped when he felt your hand on his forearm. He looked up at you with wide eyes as you pulled his arm back over you and allowed your forehead to rest against his chest.

Yuta stayed like that until you fell asleep, finding it hard to do the same. It took him awhile to find himself in the familiar lull due to his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his eyes traced over your features. If only you could read his mind, you’d know of the dilemma he realized he had wrapped himself into that he was too scared to admit on his own.

You woke up with a pounding headache, to say the least. Reaching up to massage your forehead, you tried to roll onto your back only to find that you weren’t able to. You jerked around, finding Yuta’s sleeping body as you remembered the events and conversations that took place just hours prior. You stilled as you took a moment to admire the way the golden rays of sun seeped in through the window, falling across his face and causing him to have an ethereal glow. He’d be quite attractive if it wasn’t for his attitude.

However, his face alone wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that he was practically spooning you and you weren’t confident that you could get out without waking him though what really irked you was the fact that part of you didn’t want to leave from his warm embrace.

You stayed in his arms for a few minutes longer until your headache became unbearable and your throat was begging for something to drink. You tried your best to gently extract yourself from Yuta but much to your distaste, he woke up. He caused you even more displeasure when he pulled you back towards himself and whined “where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty and I have a headache.” You stated plainly, your voice void of energy.

Yuta whined once more before trying to reason with you. “But it’s cold, it’s cuddle weather.”

“I didn’t say that I wanted to cuddle with you.” You pointed out, at which Yuta finally forced his eyes open as he yawned and stretched before sighing.

“I’ll get you water and some ibuprofen if you stay for a little longer.”

“Fine, but that’s only because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You were trying to convince him of this as much as you were trying to convince yourself of the statement while he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve seen from a full-time college student as he climbed over you and let himself out of the room.

You took this time as an opportunity to use the bathroom and peek into Mark’s room as you made your way back. You were surprised to see there was no one in the room and nearly jumped when an arm wrapped around your waist from the back. “Are we spying on Mark?” Yuta whispered into your ear.

Scoffing, you answer “he’s not even in there, you idiot.”

“Huh, I wonder where he went,” Yuta contemplated, “might as well grab the guitars while we’re here.” He handed you the glass of water and pills he was carrying as he walked into Mark’s room and picked up the two guitars from their stands.

“What are we supposed to do without Mark?”

“Practice? What else are we supposed to do?” The man in front of you asked rhetorically.

You shook your head at him, not liking the sound of his idea. “We won’t know if we’re doing anything right, we’re literally both beginners.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Yuta countered.

“Ugh, whatever, you’re so irritating.” And with that, you down the pills and turn to walk back to his room.

Playing guitar with Yuta wasn’t actually all that terrible. He knew more than he let on during your shared sessions with Mark and he offered you some tips every so often as he led both of you through the chord progression sheet. The whole scene of it was quite surreal, the way you and Yuta were both simply clothed in plain t-shirts, hair still roused from sleep, the way the sun gently lit the room and warmed it up.

You were genuinely enjoying yourself and didn’t even notice when Mark came into the room. “You guys started without me?” He whined cutely.

Yuta looked at you and you gestured at him to respond. “Y/n went to go spy on you in your room but you weren’t there so we decided to steal the guitars and have fun on our own.” You shot Yuta a look, hoping he understood the ‘I will strangle you’ glare you were giving him.

“Wow y/n, why were you spying on me man?” Mark asked dejectedly.

“I was just checking to see if your girl was still with you because I didn’t want to barge in on anything, again.” You tease.

Mark groans and covers his face out of embarrassment. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

“Wait, wait, you saw Mark naked?” Yuta questioned with his eyes wide. “He has a big butt doesn’t he?” He added, smirking, at which both you and Mark yell at him to shut up. “Just saying facts.” He claims, raising his hands up in defense.

“Anyways,” Mark said a little too aggressively, “are you guys doing okay on your own? Or did you want me to join?”

Again, Yuta turned to you for a response, though this time you really hated yourself for what you answered with. “No, I think we’re fine, thanks though.”

“Better go wash your sheets bro, you were wild last night.” Yuta called out as Mark left the room.

“Dude,” Mark exclaimed, “don’t ever say that again, please bro.” And just like that, I was only you and Yuta again.

“Speaking of parties,” Yuta began, “we’re thinking of holding another one in March before spring break. Wanna come?”

“I can’t believe you guys are already planning another one not even a whole day after getting drunk out of your mind.” You joke, the disbelief obvious in your expression.

“Hey, you have to let loose every once in a while,” he states, “but my offer still stands.”

You hum, faking getting lost in thought, “ask me again in a month and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tilted your head to the side, the look on your face clearly ridiculing him, “for now.” He adds on.

You went back to looking over the chord progression sheet and tried again to go through the one you were on before Mark came in. You almost succeed this time until you place your fingers one fret away from where they were supposed to be. “Yikes” Yuta comments as he reaches out and shifts your hand over for you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

It seemed only reasonable that when the guys continued having parties every so often, that you were invited to every single one of them whether it be through Mark or Yuta, and the one time Johnny had hit you up not knowing your involvement with the frat already, or even when Taeil invited you though it was really because Mark needed help sorting out his relationship issues.

Everyone except you was surprised that Mark had found himself a girlfriend, especially one that wasn’t you. You were happy for him, even if it meant having to respond to his panicked texts at 2am asking what something meant in ‘girl language’ accompanied by numerous screenshots.

Mark often ended up leaving you and Yuta on your own on Sundays because that was the only day when both he and his girlfriend were free. You certainly didn’t mind spending more time with Yuta now that he stopped being such a cocky asshole all the time. Whatever absence Mark had left, Yuta was there to make up for it whether it be his lingering touches, shy kisses, and even the offering of his clothes to you when you accidentally ended up sleeping over again, though this time you voluntarily shared a bed with him.

Yuta was becoming a necessary presence in your life, though you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it when he moved to sit next to you during class. You didn’t mind when he asked to work with you for the upcoming playing test. You didn’t mind when he found you during parties swept you away from the dance floor to take you elsewhere.

You especially didn’t mind when taking you elsewhere resulted in your current situation, your hands tangled in Yuta’s now orange-colored hair, as you lay under him while he kissed you breathless.

“You look so fucking hot, you had all of them staring at you.” Yuta growls out between kisses.

You bite his bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly. “Mmm, you like that though. You like it when I look like this.”

“Not when other men get to look at you the way I do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re mine.”

The use of the word caused you to stop in your tracks, Yuta pulling back as your lips stopped moving against his. “What are we?” You ask him, your voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, this relationship?” You say, gesturing between the two of you, “What is our relationship to each other?”

“We’re friends.”

“But are we just friends? Because I don’t think friends kiss each other like this.”

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t.” Yuta interjected as he leaned in to reattach his lips to yours.

“No, Yuta, stop,” you declare, pulling away from him, “I told you I’m not someone you can just play around with. If you want to keep me as a friend, then that’s all we will be. No kissing, no flirting, none of that.”

“I’m not playing around with you-”

“Then why is it so hard for you to place a label on us?” You questioned him, unintentionally raising your voice ever so slightly.

He rolled off of you, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes as he let out a sigh of exasperation. “I...I don’t know.”

“We’re clearly more than just friends but if you’re not willing to commit to being something more, then I’ll leave it at that.”

“Y/n, I- fuck, I don’t know what I even want-”

“And that’s okay,” you interrupt, “I’ll just give you time to think then, but for now,” you pause as you stand up from his bed, “just friends.” And with that you let yourself out of his room and ventured back downstairs to the party without turning back, finding comfort in the common sight of Johnny manning the boards, Doyoung in the kitchen with the drinks, even down to Taeyong and Taeil drunkenly swaying with each other on the dance floor.

“Here, something sweet to get rid of that sour look on your face.” Doyoung joked as he slid a drink across the counter.

You let out a chuckle as you raised the glass to your lips. “That obvious huh?”

“It is when I know whose room you just came from and who you’ve been spending all your time with.” He was really too intelligent to be stuck with these idiots.

You could only sigh as you took a large swig of whatever it is Doyoung made for you, relishing in the burn it gave you as it went down your throat, wishing for the alcohol-induced pain to overtake the one in your mind caused by the one and only Nakamoto Yuta.

Needless to say, you and Yuta ended up changing songs for the playing test and performing alone. Yuta moved back to his previous seat in the front of the room, though you still felt the way his eyes practically pierced through you as you played your chosen song, which albeit, was on the easier side since you wanted to give yourself a break.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta wished so badly to be the person you were singing about. “Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?” You sang, and he mentally beat himself to the ground.

Yuta still wanted to give you the world more than anything but he didn’t trust himself to do so, not when he’s already hurt you more than he should have. He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you finished playing until he heard the applause coming from your classmates.

You actually did end up going to their spring party, but it was due to a request made by Johnny as he told you about Mark’s current post-breakup state near the end of your English class together. “He’s pretty much been in his room all the time. Not like the normal kind where he just prefers to chill in his room, but like, the kind where he doesn’t even come down to eat with us and Taeil has to bring food up to him.”

“Did Mark say anything about the breakup? Like why or how it happened?” You questioned, not wanting to have to ask Mark himself in case it was still too sensitive a subject to talk about.

Johnny hummed in thought, cocking his head to the side. “He didn’t say much to me, but he told Taeil that she wasn’t looking for anything serious but he thought that she was.” Johnny paused to take a sip from the Starbucks cup on his desk. “In my opinion, he should’ve waited to get to know her instead of just fucking her and deciding to date her y’know? But, I mean, that’s on him, so as they say, not my problem.” He shrugged his shoulder before taking another sip of his drink.

“Literally who says that?” You joke, enjoying poking fun at the older guy.

Johnny turned to you, a mock look of offense plastered onto his face. “Y/n! You don’t know? The famous Johnny Suh says it all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him as you packed up your belongings, promising to be at the party later that night, not exactly fancying the thought of running into a certain someone at the party as well.

Mark’s fiery whirlwind of a romance had left him to become a mess of all sorts and you spent your time with him at the party in his bed, watching tik toks and animal video compilations to get his mind off of things. You felt a sense of relief as you heard one of his faint snores, realizing that he was asleep, allowing you to slip out of his room and head downstairs to grab a drink from Doyoung.

Right as you were about to head back up, you saw the all too familiar head of orange hair glowing under the dim lighting as he looked down across the party from the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice you as you made your way towards him until a small “hey” left your lips.

His eyes darted over to your face, offering a simple nod of his head to you to acknowledge your presence. You stood next to him, leaning against the wall until you broke the silence “how have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good I guess.” You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you, but you didn’t want to leave him, just feeling so drawn to him. Finding comfort in his presence, you closed your eyes and let your head fall against the wall as you lost yourself in the music that Johnny had going.

“I’ll get going, this party isn’t as exciting as normal.” Yuta stated as he turned to go back upstairs. Starting up the stairs after him, wanting to check in on Mark again, but when Yuta heard you following him, he turned around and called out to you. ”Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.” You froze as he turned back around and continued his way up while you processed his words, allowing him to escape from you yet again.

You watched from an outsider's perspective and through the narratives of the other guys as over the next few days, Yuta replaced Mark as the resident vegetable. He fell into the same state Mark was previously in, said boy having slowly come back to his senses with your constant nurturing and care.

Party after party, Yuta was no longer down on the dance floor with one hand holding a red solo cup, another around the waist of a girl he had just met. You wanted so badly to speak to him, but whenever you spotted him off to the edges of the crowd, he’d disappear seconds later like he knew you were watching him. As much as it was nice to have Mark back and go back to your normal best friend activities, Yuta had lodged himself in your heart without you knowing it.

Countless parties more and it was already nearing the end of spring semester. Yuta had stopped showing up to class, appearing once or twice a week, at most. Even at parties, he no longer came out of his room, according to Taeil. You had been meaning to talk to Yuta for a while now, but with finals looming right around the corner and his ability to hole himself up in his room, it was nearly impossible to find the time and place for it.

You were sick of worrying about him and if he was eating and sleeping okay, often finding yourself wondering what he was currently doing while you were studying or eating your own meals. You hated how often he occupied your mind. You truly wanted to believe that you were different to him, that someday he’d come around ready to commit to something but you ridiculed yourself for thinking that you’d have enough power to change someone as stubborn as Yuta. Little did you know, you were more than capable of doing so.

You had just entered the last week before finals and your school was generous enough to allot students a two day period to study before finals started. Of course, the frats and sororities took it as a last-ditch opportunity to party before their seniors graduated. You attended the party thrown to celebrate the graduating Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong, but you were there for a different reason.

Throwing a quick greeting to Doyoung in the kitchen as you entered, he offered you a drink, which you told him to save for later before storming up the stairs. You were tired of all the hours you spent thinking about Yuta. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this, then you were whether it ended your friendship with him or not. You were done thinking about all the what-ifs, you wanted a definitive answer and you wanted it now.

Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, having enough manners to think about knocking before entering, you raised your hand to knock. Though before you were able to, you heard the music coming from inside. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was his voice singing the words. You froze with your hand against the door as you continued to listen to him. “Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”

You opened his door slowly, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to hear you knock over the loud noise coming from the party and his own blue-toned song. Both of you stood there in shock as your eyes met. Yuta was sitting on his bed with Taeil’s guitar in his lap and a notebook laid open next to him while you stood in the middle of his doorway, hand still on the knob.

Oh, how you missed the sight of him, even when he was dressed as simply as he was right now with just a grey t-shirt and black shorts sporting the logo of his favorite soccer team. “Yuta, we need to talk” you blurted out, stopping yourself from ogling him any further.

“Alright.” He complied, closing the notebook as you sat at the foot of his bed.

You take in a deep breath before starting. “I’m pretty sure you know this already, but I like you,” pausing to regather yourself and push through the rest of the speech you practiced in your head, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you recently and I just want to settle this whole thing once and for all.”

Yuta nodded while picking at his fingers which you could see were now raw from playing the guitar so much, making you wonder just how often he was on it. “I’ve been thinking about you too...a lot,” he said as he looked up at you, “and I think I have an answer for you.”

You plant your hand down next to you on his bed, resting your weight on it and letting your head loll to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him asking him to continue. “I like you too, and I know the way I’ve been acting doesn’t really show that but I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt again.” Yuta said, letting his head rest in his hands.

“Yuta, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“That’s what she told me too, but people can be deceiving.”

“Look, I’m not her,” you pointed out to him, “and I’m telling you right now that I would not even think about cheating on you.”

“Yeah, well, things can change.” Yuta let out exasperatedly.

“So you should change with them. You’re not going to grow unless you accept those changes.”

He went silent for a bit before looking up at you. “Teach me how to accept them, then.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, your eyes meeting his.

“Show me that you’re different. Prove to me that not all change is bad.”

You moved closer to him as he spoke, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him. “I will.”

Yuta’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt as he shakily exhaled before he reopened his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and this time it was your eyes that closed as Yuta connected his lips to yours. Within a few seconds, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you allowed and gave him a sense of dominance before letting your tongue dance with his while gently pushing him down onto the bed.

He whined as he broke the kiss and rolled both of you over, switching your positions, preferring to smother your body with his, making you giggle at his actions. “Thank you for asking this time.” You told him, referencing the first time he had kissed you.

“I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight and I just wanted to kiss you so badly.” Yuta groaned, grinding his growing erection on your hip at the last part.

“Oh you wanna kiss me so bad huh?” You teased.

You could’ve sworn he let out a growl right then before responding “fuck yeah I do” and reconnecting your lips to his. After fighting your tongue yet again, he pulled away and slowly opened his now lust-filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” you let out breathlessly, “I want it.”

“Who do you want?” He questioned as he slipped his hands under your shirt, gently kneading your breasts while kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“You.”

“Baby, say my name.”

“Yuta, I want you.”

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.” He said as he pulled his shirt off, throwing it down to the floor as you sat up and did the same.

The second your shirt was off, Yuta’s hands were already undoing the clasp of your bra, tossing it to the side as well before pushing you back down and running his hands over your breasts. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.

You let out a whine as he pushed his erection against your clit, making you feel your own arousal that had started leaking out onto your underwear. Yuta glanced up at you, smirking, as he heard the sound you made. “Someone’s getting needy.” He kissed his way down your abdomen, sitting back once he reached the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear.

He groaned as he took in all of your naked beauty, telling you “you’re so fucking hot” as he spread your legs and brought his face down to your folds and licking a long strip upwards. He repeated this motion a few times before you let out a frustrated moan at his teasing.

Yuta laughed at your desperation until your hand wove it’s way into his hair and pushed him closer to where you wanted him most. He seemed to get the message as he dove in, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around and pressing at your entrance.

You weren’t expecting it when you suddenly felt him pressing a finger into you, though you enjoyed the sensation of it and raised your hips to feel more, only to be met with Yuta’s free hand coming down on your stomach, holding you down. He waited for you to relax before inserting a second digit, then a third as he started to speed up and finger fuck you open.

He was reaching places inside of you that you had never reached before but you still wanted more. “Yuta,” you breathed out, “just fuck me already.”

“Well when you say it like that, there’s no way I can resist” he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he sat up, his erection bobbing as he tugged off his ripped jeans, freeing it from its confines.

“Condom” you tell him.

“Oh, you’re one of those girls,” he snickered, earning him a smack on the arm from you, “I’m just kidding, jeez, I don’t want to have to be responsible for a child just yet.” He defended as he reached over and stuck his hand into one of the drawers of his nightstand.

“I’m not risking getting pregnant when I can barely pay my tuition.” You quipped back at him.

“Fair enough.” Yuta remarked as he ripped open the package and rolled the condom over his already leaking cock.

He crawled over you, his elbows coming to rest next to either side of your head. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure want this?” You countered to him, both of you knowing fully well what you meant since once he went through with this, there was no turning back. Yuta was promising himself to you just as you had done to him.

You watched as his eyes found yours, “I want this, I want you, I want us.” With that he pushed himself into you, both of you letting out sinful moans as he bottomed out.

He barely gave you time to adjust before he started slowly rocking his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer while your hands found their way into his brightly colored locks. Just as he began to accelerate his movements, thrusting harder and faster, his door swung open.

Mark walked in casually, “hey, Yuta have you seen Taeil’s- holy shit i’m so sorry” he exclaimed once he realized the situation.

Yuta didn’t even pause as he told Mark “it’s on the floor.”

If you weren’t struggling to hold back your lewd sounds in the presence of your best friend, you would’ve laughed at how Mark snatched up the guitar and bolted out of the room, muttering “guess we’re even now, y/n” as he shut the door.

You let out a whimper as Yuta hit your spot the second the door closed. “Fuck, right there.”

He pushed himself into you a few more times before suddenly rolling over, bringing you to straddle him. “Ride me” he commanded, one of his hands coming to rub your clit. You began bouncing on his lap and clenched around him, drawing a moan from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Good, I'm not going to either.” You informed him, already feeling the knot in your stomach begging to be released.

Your thighs were starting to become sore though you didn’t want to stop. Yuta noticed your change of pace, bringing both his hands up to your hips as he began thrusting up into you. You let out a cry as he managed to brush against your most sensitive areas, causing an orgasm to wash over you.

His movements slowly only for a bit as he let you take control, riding out your high before firmly grasping your hips again and bouncing you on himself, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.

Staying true to his word, Yuta came shortly after you, filling the condom with his cum. He continued to push himself up into you until it became too much and he pulled out with a hiss. Yuta gently you down on his bed before getting up to dispose of the condom in the trash bin next to his nightstand.

You welcomed him with open arms as he climbed back into bed, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he began pressing light kisses across your collarbone as he broke the silence. “So does this make us a thing?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.” You tell him, wanting him to clearly voice his thoughts.

“Are we official?” He clarified.

“Only if you want us to be.”

Yuta smiled up at you. “y/n, Yuta’s girl, I like the sound of that.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he spoke again. “That song was about you, by the way”

“I figured that much.” You stated as you pushed his hair out of his face.

He giggled as he told you “I wrote it after jacking off to the thought of you.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to tell me that.” He let out a full laugh this time as he rolled both of you onto your sides and brought his forehead to rest against yours.

“Gosh, as if you weren’t clingy enough before this.” You joke, playfully kissing his nose.

“I’m all yours now.” Yuta cooed, his arms pulling your still naked body impossibly closer to his.

800 notes · View notes

writing-gifts · 3 years

Text

both sides of the viewfinder ch. 2

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader (they are also gn)

18+ content

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

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A/N: okay so this story is actually 4 chapters long now, the 2nd chapter was way longer than i would have liked (and taking too long to edit all at once) so i split it in half

um ig that's it, there’s a cheating scenario porn being filmed this chapter, like its literally the beginning of this chapter so warning for that

other than that i hope you like the chapter!

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You hold back the laugh in your chest and try your best to keep a relaxed face. But you didn't have great control when it came to stuff like this and realized quickly in life that you probably wouldn't make it as an actor. However the director still thought it was fine to put you in as an extra with speaking parts.

He said your acting didn't need to be believable or good just that you need to say the lines. That was objectively true--it was porn--but if you cracked a smile people would definitely notice.

You were playing the oblivious person having a conversation with your "best friend". And said friend was getting railed in the shower by your boyfriend who was being played by Bruno. Why you were trying to have a serious conversation while she was showering was completely lost on you. But it didn't have to make sense.

You stare at yourself in the mirror above the sinks. The way the restroom was set up had the shower and toilet in its own separate, little room. So it wasn't completely easy to tell what your friend was really up to.

"My boyfriend's been acting strange recently," you say. You try to sound down but come off more inconvenienced.

"What do you mean?"

The door to the shower room was open so you could hear your friend well even with the water running. So of course you notice her voice wobble at the end. You can't tell if she added that intentionally or if Bruno found a particularly good spot. You ignore it though since you weren't actually supposed to notice anything just yet.

"He doesn't seem very interested in me anymore? Like he doesn't want to have sex with me. And it's kinda weird since he always wanted to before!"

"Ah--!"

“Huh?” you reply, genuinely confused. That wasn't on the script but you knew pretending you didn't hear it would be worse.

“Ahhh, maybe something has been upsetting him recently?” she suggests.

"Oh...perhaps you're right." You move to pull out your phone from your pocket. "It's been bothering me so much so maybe I'll call him right now--"

"D-Don't stop!"

You turn towards the shower room. "What? Are you good? You sound like you're exercising in there."

"Yes yES--I'm good! Just hot in here…"

That sounded so real and it has you wondering what the hell Bruno's doing.

You pause for a split second too long and almost forget to say your next line. "Uh so you...don't want me to call him?"

"No, don't call him. You should s-speak to him in person!" Your friend seemed to finally get her voice under control.

"Oh! That's definitely a better idea." You put your phone away. "I think I'll head home now actually and wait for him. Thanks for hearing me out!"

With that you exit the bathroom set and breathe a sigh of relief. Now all that was left to do was wait for filming to finish and then you could head home for the day.

You join the crew and from where you're standing you can easily watch the two actors go. It was actually kind of nice to watch.

While you stare, Bruno seems to glance in your direction. You raise a brow, wondering why he looked over here and turn around to look behind you, but there's nothing of note there.

-----

"You're not going home yet?"

You turn in your chair. Bruno stands at the door watching you with crossed arms.

"Nope. I'm finishing this up for one of the editors--they weren't feeling well--and I don't want to take it home with me."

"I see," he says. He then walks in the room and pulls up a chair next to you which catches you off guard.

"You don't have to stick around! I'm probably gonna be here up until midnight."

"That's okay. I don't want to leave you here all alone. What are you editing anyways?"

"Well I'm working on one of your porns. The one you did last week."

Bruno leans forward, getting in your space, to see the screen.

"Ah, the one with Leone! That one was really nice, but I always enjoy working with him."

"Yea the two of you have great chemistry."

Abbacchio was a grumpy bitch but somehow the two of them got along pretty well. Bruno seemed to get along with most people easily though.

The man places his elbow on the desk and rests his head in his hand.

"So did you like it?"

"Like what?" you ask.

"The film."

The look in his eye was one that was quite familiar but why it was there, you weren't completely sure.

You feel your heart skip a beat. "I mean...I did."

Bruno smiles and you immediately feel yourself getting hot.

"What did you like about it? If you don't mind me asking."

A small smile comes to your lips. "W-Well you're in it, that's one. I like when I can tell the actors are genuinely having a good time. And both you and Abbacchio are attractive. Your m-moans were pretty nice too."

"They sound better when they come naturally hm?"

"Can't disagree with that!"

You turn your attention back to the screen. As much as you'd like entertaining Bruno you still need to get this done.

"You seem less reserved in person compared to when we message on Twitter."

"Really? It's usually the opposite for people…" you say.

"I know that's why I find it interesting." The man pauses for a moment before talking again. "Remember when you said you watched some of my work?"

You nod.

"For fun?"

You raise a brow but still answer. "I like to judge the camerawork, but sometimes I do for fun.”

Even though you were kind of over porn, there were the few times that you used it to help get off. And when you did you usually found yourself seeking out media involving Bruno.

Bruno lets out a laugh. "That's good to know."

You purse your lips at his smug expression. The man is definitely trying to mess with you. Of course you didn't mind some teasing but being the only one receiving wasn't your forte. Also you didn't want to be here all night.

"I need to finish this. You can stay but you can't keep distracting me like that..."

"Of course."

You look at him warily before getting back to work. Even though Bruno didn't really seem it, he definitely had a mischievous side.

The man watches the screen (and sometimes you), keeping you company with more innocent chat while you work. It actually makes time pass by faster.

You end up finishing earlier than you expect and thank Bruno for staying with you. The man offers to drive you home but you decline and take the bus instead.

The moment you're in your bedroom, your body hits the bed--no night routine or clothes change. You'd just have to deal with it in the morning.

It barely feels like you've been asleep before you hear your alarm go off. You grab your phone and shut it off.

Sighing, you risk closing your eyes for a few more seconds. You weren't ready to go back to work but after a minute you force yourself out of bed and stretch.

You head straight to the bathroom to start your day by brushing your teeth and multi-task with your phone--checking your work email and replying to any missed messages that you didn't get to last night. Other than that your morning starts off pretty uneventful.

While you're eating breakfast you get a message on Twitter.

Bruno: Morning.

You reply with your own good morning. The message surprised you but it was a pleasant one.

Bruno: How are you feeling? Not too tired I hope.

You: i'm okay now that i've had some coffee

You: how's your day going so far?

Bruno: The usual. I'm walking over to a restaurant nearby to get something to eat.

You: ooo sounds yummy 😋

You: what ya gonna get?

Bruno: I'm not sure yet but I'll send a picture when I do.

you: noo i'll be jealous, i'm literally eating cereal right now. but also please do send it

Bruno: I can bring you a to-go box if you want.

Your spoon stops halfway to your mouth.

You: i mean it's still good cereal so you don't have to

Bruno: It's fine. I like feeding people, at least that's how one of my friends phrased it!

You: well…..okay 👉👈

You: thanks ❤

Bruno: You're welcome.

Bruno: ❤

-----

"Off day today?" you ask.

Bruno drags his fingers through his hair and sighs. Other than that, he doesn't show any frustration.

"I planned for today to be short, then I could head home but as you can see it's not really going as planned. And all these lights…." He looks at you. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you're tired too."

"No, no it's okay. It’s totally my fault! We can take a break if you want?"

The studio had been dabbling with more amateur work lately so the director had left you and Jocelyn to handle this, and Jocelyn had decided it would be fine if you were on your own for this film. You weren't sure why you agreed since you had only been here about a month at this point and didn't feel completely comfortable. But you did and it was proving to be very nerve wracking. It affected your work and dragged this out longer than necessary.

“And honestly, I should probably take one too," you add.

Bruno agrees and you grab the man's robe and place it on his shoulders. While He slips back on his briefs you turn to the small crew.

“Guys lets take a 15 minute break.”

Everyone gives their okays and most of the crew leaves the room while a few check the equipment or their phones.

You tell Bruno where you're going and head outside to get some fresh air.

You try to use the time to relax but instead end up walking back and forth, worrying about the film and Bruno. The man was still able to act the part but you stopping and going so often was definitely affecting his performance. And you really didn't want him to have to act out every motion.

You stop walking and lean against the wall of the building. While waiting for the break to end you see someone approaching from the parking lot. The editor you helped before when they weren't feeling well.

You push yourself off the walls and meet them part way with a greeting.

"Hey Eli."

"What's up ____...You good? You look kinda stressed."

"I guess I am. Sorry for asking so suddenly but could you do me a favor?"

"What type of favor?"

"I'm supposed to film this amateur video of Bruno masturbating, and I've been having a hard time for some reason. I don't want to keep Bruno trapped here all day for something like this. But I don't know if my shots are usable...Do you think you can check for me?"

They hum in thought. “____ I'm going to be honest with you. It sounds like you're overthinking this. I mean, it’s called amateur for a reason. It doesn't need to be super high quality or “perfect” shots! That's probably why they let you direct it on your own."

At that moment everything clicked.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way though!"

"No, you're right. Thanks!"

You leave before they can respond and head back to the set room. On your way there, you go find a different camera. Something smaller and less complicated that will still capture good quality shots--perfect for what you were about to do.

When everyone returns from their break you have most of the lights brought down and let the whole crew go.

"Bruno I know you do videos on your own. So we're pretty much gonna do it like that now. Except that I'm here...uh.” You laugh. “You know what I mean."

Bruno smiles at the camera in a way you could only describe as cute.

"I understand. I’m ready to go whenever you are."

You nod and give the signal.

Right away, his light smile transforms into something more alluring. He leans back on the multiple soft pillows set against the headboard and lets out a relaxed sigh.

You give Bruno a moment to prepare himself and when you see the outline of his cock already hardening through his briefs, you internally breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's been awhile since I've last done this."

He props a arm atop the pillows. "Now that it's happening, I just realized I've missed it."

You want to ask what he means but bite your lip instead. Maybe it was some type of roleplay.

He drags a hand up his thigh before stopping at the bulge between his legs, and you can't help the thought of running your own hands against those legs.

He hums. "You know, I have a hard time keeping you out of my mind at night."

Your stomach flips but you make sure to keep your breathing controlled.

His thumbs hook under the band of his briefs and you lean a bit forward without thinking, anticipating what you had seen many times before. But for the first time in a long time you feel yourself slipping from your work frame of mind. Maybe it was inappropriate but you were sure Bruno wouldn't mind.

After teasing you for way longer than you would like, the corners of Bruno's lips quirk upward and he finally pulls down the band to reveal himself.

Bruno's cock stands erect and his brow furrows. "Look what you're doing to me..." His head lolls to the side to rest against the pillows and his breath hitches when he begins to stroke himself.

You focus on his handsome face for a moment. His blue eyes are piercing and it feels like he's looking past the camera and straight at you at you.

Your fingers twitch on the camera. You'd never wanted to touch someone so bad in your life.

-----

Bruno: Can I get your advice on something?

You: yea, what is it?

Bruno: I want to post some photos on my OnlyFans but idk which one to use on Twitter though. Can you help me decide?

You: ooo of course!

He sends 3 pictures of him wearing different elaborate lingerie. They must have been new since you're sure you'd never seen them before. Anyways, you're a millimeter away from sending a photo of a cartoon character with their jaw on the floor.

You: idk if i can decide! any of them would be enough to get me on your onlyfans...

Bruno: Thank you but you still have to pick one.

You scroll back and forth looking through them. The pictures were teasing, hinting at what was to come and they were all very sexy. But after staring for too long you finally make a choice.

You: the third one!

Bruno: Why?

You: ….it shows your tiddies the most 💁

Bruno: I thought you were going to say something about the framing or lighting...

You: LOL

You: i can look at them again?

Bruno: No it's okay. I'll use the tiddy picture.

Bruno: Thank you.

You: no problem!

You: soooo when are you posting the full set?

Bruno: Trust me, I'll let you know right beforehand. 😏

You: 😳

-----

You walk down the hallway slightly annoyed. Jocelyn just informed you that you would be covering for one of your coworkers last minute. It was inconvenient but not that big of a deal. That is until you found out that Melone was one of the actors.

When you first met him, he seemed to keep to himself for the most part. But recently he had become fixated on you. Every break in filming he’d approach you.

At first it wasn't so bad and you thought he was trying to be friendly, but it didn't take long for you to start feeling uncomfortable. Some of the questions he asked made you feel weird--it wasn't anything you weren't used to but the way he asked them... And when you tried to steer the conversation into a different direction he didn't take the hint. On top of all this, you didn't see him do this with anybody else.

You walk into the breakroom and find Bruno snacking. He greets you but quickly realizes something's up.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

The leather couch that you hate creaks when you fall back on it.

“Well I have to unexpectedly help with more camera work today. And Melone's going to be there so he's definitely going to be talking my ear off.”

You try to sound indifferent about it but Bruno says something you don't expect.

"I can talk to Jocelyn and get you out of it."

"Huh? No, no you don't need to do that. That's a silly reason to try to skip out."

"Well, how about I say it like this? I'm done for today and I would like to take you out to eat with me."

You smile. "That does sound nice..."

"Okay, it's settled then. I'll go talk to her and then we can go."

Once Bruno comes back the both of you walk to his car.

"Eating mostly oatmeal and vegetables for the last 2 days hasn't been very satisfying," he says as he opens the passenger door for you.

You get in and wait for him to walk around to get in the driver side.

"It sucks but at least you can eat whatever now. Where are we eating by the way?"

"Bertolino's--it's nearby. I'm craving pizza. Or pasta."

You feel your stomach grumble pleased with the thought.

"You could do both, kinda like macaroni pizza."

Bruno glances at you. "That sounds...unpleasant."

"Oh so you've tried it?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

You watch him try to wrack his brain for a rebuttal and fail.

"...It still sounds bad though," he says.

"Try it first then we can talk."

You reach out and poke the man's cheek. He immediately shoos your hand away and throws a miffed look at you.

"Hey, I'm trying to drive."

You grin but leave him alone. This was the first time you'd get to spend time with Bruno outside of work so you were a little restless and couldn't help messing with him.

"This is probably the most excited I've seen you," he says.

"Yea--just happy to be outside of work!"

"Is Melone that much of a problem?"

"No...well he can be a lot but it's not really a big issue. I'm just happy to get to spend time with you is what I meant."

Bruno's doesn't respond right away and you wonder if you said something wrong.

"If he's bothering you I can handle it," he finally says.

You let out a laugh. "Are you going to beat him up?"

"If necessary."

You stop smiling when you realize he isn't joking and conclude that he doesn't like Melone. You wonder what the man could have done to get on Bruno's bad side though since he seemed to get along with everyone.

"I feel the same by the way," Bruno says.

"Huh?"

"About getting to spend time together."

You and Bruno spend the next hour and a half sharing a pizza and talking. And the two of you learn a few things about the other that didn't involve work. Like that he wears glasses to read and that he had a dyeing "accident" with his hair recently.

Afterwards you didn't really feel like going back to work so Bruno drives you home.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thanks for the meal and ride."

Bruno smiles. His mood seems better now that he's eaten. "You're welcome. We should do this again sometime."

"Yeah, I'd like that." And instead of saying goodbye and getting out of the car, you sit there expecting--expecting something.

The both of you stare at one another until Bruno leans towards you. His lips meet yours and for some reason his breath smells like mint.

Before you can worry about your own breath, Bruno's hand is on your thigh and sliding up. His tongue presses against your lips, coaxing you to part them.

The beating in your chest feels so hard and your hands clinch next to your thighs. You want to reach out for Bruno and make a mess out of him, but you feel like you're running out of breath way too quickly.

You pull away.

Bruno immediately moves his hand off your leg. "What's wrong?"

You weren't really sure yourself. You just knew something was bothering you. Or maybe that was just the food you ate trying to digest. Either way it was preventing you from fully enjoying this.

"I'm not sure but I think it's best if we stop for now."

He nods but you worry he might be a little disappointed.

"That's fine," he says.

"It's not because I'm not interested! It's just something's off. Please dont think I'm not attracted to you."

"I'm not upset ____." He smiles. "I want you to be comfortable."

"Whew, okay.."

"Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?" he asks.

"That's okay. Thanks though."

You brush a misplaced hair behind his ear and press a quick kiss to his lips. Once you pull back, you open the car door and step out.

"Stay safe," he says.

"You too. I'll message you later."

#i sure do love dragging things out!#im excited for the last chapter cause i wanna post something resort-y #like hell yea vacation!#ive never been to a resort in my life so we are going to pretend lmao #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #not sfw #n$fw

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saebyeog-i · 4 years

Text

bitter brews (i) | syh

“Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.””

genre | not quite a coffeeshop!au, (mild)slow burn, this thought about being an adversaries to lovers fic for six minutes

rating/warnings | a stupid amount of exposition about coffee plants, catch me throwing in the random recipes that have been my go-to for cooking during quarantine, is this angsty?, discussions of mental health issues {see tags for details}, overall mature content/themes {foul language, alcohol consumption, references & discussion of masturbation, awkward boners, future smut}, some soft moments, and some good ol’ tooth rotting waxing poetic nonsense fluff. Don’t expect too much out of this I just got tired of editing this part so I’m finally posting it.

word count | 19.6k (I meant for this to be a super long one-shot but it’s turning into a story in parts for the sake of ratings w h o o p s)

pairing | Johnny Seo x fem reader

writing playlist | Egotistic - Mamamoo, Black Swan - BTS, Sober - HYO, I Blame On You - Taeyeon, Heartbeat - BTS, Close to Me (Red Velvet Remix) - Ellie Goulding feat. Red Velvet

—

“So, what you mean to say is… you’re not coming? Like, at all?”

The bright yellow plastic of the rotary phone was slightly cool against your overheating skin, which was constantly veiled in a thin layer of sweat whenever you stayed on the farm property instead of the main house on the opposite side of the island. It was the first week of May, which meant it was already humid again. If it wasn’t the time for the daily afternoon rain showers, it might as well have felt like it was raining with how saturated the air was.

“I’m sorry, Bean, I just can’t get on a plane right now. I thought it would be fine it we stretched out the time between flights, but all my doctors are saying I need to just stay here between now and the birth, so…”

Your sister’s voice trailed off and you had to wait for a moment to be sure it wasn’t the poor reception for the phone call running across the four thousand miles that separated you— the four thousand miles that would continue to separate you for the rest of the summer.

You exhaled and twirled the aged spiral phone cord that could barely hold its shape around your index finger, staring at the concrete floor and scrunching your toes. “Well, I’m already here, obviously… do you… you want me to stay here then? Take care of stuff?” You asked hesitantly, already having a feeling of what the answer would be.

A crackly sigh of relief came through the other line. “Little Bean, you are the best, Yunho was worried about asking you to stay and man the farm for the summer harvest but I knew you would just offer! You’re the best like that, you know?” You gritted your teeth and forced a smile through, even though no one was there to witness it. “Okay, so we’ll ship out the supplies in the next few days. Yunho is gonna email you a list of delivery dates of materials for the projects he had planned for the summer and a few contractor contacts…”

Her voice warbled on, and you could only nod your head and vocalize an ‘mhmm’ every so often, listening to her rattle off instructions and information that you knew would be sent in an email too. You’d been looking forward to spending the summer with her— you hadn’t gotten a proper chance to visit for more than a weekend since she and Yunho had gotten married about two years ago— but it turned out this wouldn’t be it. You couldn’t blame her though; she was approaching the third trimester of her pregnancy. You’d do anything for her, even this, even isolating yourself on a farm for four months. Alone.

Not exactly the leave of absence you’d been hoping for from work, but it would have to do.

✧ ✧ ✧

This was supposed to be a vacation. A break. Some much needed time off, away from your job, your career, and your “normal” life. You told yourself over and over again you were looking forward to it. And besides, it would all be worth it, because of all the time you’d get to spend with your sister after so long.

And then she had to betray you by going and getting fucking knocked up, with twins no less.

Fucking happily married couples with their god damn healthy ass sex lives and family planning and wanting to raise children. What the fuck was that all about?

It had been so long since your last vacation. Years, in fact. So long, you had over two months of paid time off accrued at work, and back at New Years you’d made the preliminary plans to spend a month on the farm in Hawaii with her, bonding and just relaxing. Sure, it would require some manual labor for the business here and there, but mostly just to rest.

What a joke that turned out to be.

The farm in Hawaii. You know, the coffee farm your brother in law bought four years ago on a dare from your sister, because he said he could totally pull it off as a side hustle, and she said he wouldn’t be able to? Yeah, that one. Fast forward to today and the side hustle became a full fledged passion that roped in a good amount of the family into the business. Siblings, cousins, parents, all involved in different aspects of package design, social media marketing, distribution and wholesale— everyone except you, who stuck with your soul sucking job in advertising, the same industry your brother in law had since left behind.

The farm and roasting wasn’t an overnight success by any means, but in the last year the brand had really taken off in the craft coffee scene. After all, Kona coffee was well sought after, and one could only claim the name ‘Kona’ if it was grown on the same two thousand or so acres of land on Hawaii’s big island. You know, the same area of land you were living on for the remainder of the summer?

Right. The whole summer.

It was just supposed to be the month of May. And then it turned into May and some of June, when you’d asked your sister to make more concrete plans, and she kept brushing it off. And then the week before you actually got off the plane, you hadn’t booked the return ticket, because you were still waiting for her answer. And then the phone call, and now, this was… indefinite? No, that was being too dramatic; if anything, it would be up through the birth. Based on the number of projects Yunho had planned for the farm, through the remainder of the summer was how long everything would take. Just you and a little over five acres of land and the summer heat. The thought of an extended isolation had your breath catching in your throat, but the last thing you wanted to do was complain or call for help. Stubborn and proud, you wouldn’t have made the offer to stay if you didn’t mean it, if you didn’t think you could handle it. There was no way you were backing out now.

When Yunho had first bought the farm, it had been a rough first few years of refining the coffee plants that had been on the land and uncared for for a number of years, but the last two summers had provided a steady increase in the harvest yield. There was a small farmhouse on the property, with two small bedrooms, a shower, and a small kitchen and living area. A few miles down the coast was the nicer, newer condo that the business had bought, a multi-bedroom unit with some better amenities for when more of your family wanted to visit. It felt weird spending time there— it was too nice, too clean, and quite frankly you had enough to keep yourself busy with on the farm property, you’d rather not have to spend time driving back and forth every day. So you opted to spend most of your nights sleeping here, even though it meant only ceiling fans and no air conditioning.

The farmhouse had very shitty, very limited wifi and a grand total of three electrical outlets outside of what was used to power the oven and refrigerator. One of those outlets was, of course, dedicated to an espresso machine on the kitchen counter, which you had gotten acquainted with over the last two weeks. It was an older model and a little temperamental (the one at the condo was much nicer), but it was still from a decent manufacturer, and you could still use it to pulled a decent shot.

Most of the time you worked in silence, and most of the time you were never too aware of how much time had passed, other than when the sun went down and it was suddenly dark out. You weren’t always this absent minded, you swore— maybe it was a byproduct of being alone for so long—

A loud, high pitched whine filled your ears, followed by some scratching at the door that lead to the lanai outside. You sighed, standing up from the kitchen table and walking over to face the monster that had made it.

“What? What do you want now?”

Staring back at you from the the other side of the screen door was what you’d affectionally referred to as The Thirty-Three Pound Menace— the medium sized stray dog that your brother-in-law so conveniently forgot to mention had been living on the farm for the last few months. It had been waiting outside the farmhouse when you first arrived, and you’d learned from the neighbors that Yunho had taken a liking to the stray and had arranged for them to feed it in his absence. But now that you were here, taking care of the dog was added to your list of daily chores. It seemed to not want to leave the farm property unless actively accompanied by you, with the assurance that you’d be bringing it back with you.

With a roll of your eyes you hip checked the door open just enough to let the dog inside the house. It circled you several times, sniffing at your knees before sitting and panting, staring up at you expectantly. In the two weeks you’d been here, the majority of your conversations were between you and this, a being that couldn’t talk back. Maybe you liked it that way. “What, dinner? Fine, fine,” you grumbled, shuffling to the cabinet and pulling out a can of wet food.

Your meals had consisted of relatively simple dishes, but today you were cranky at the confirmation that your summer was not going to go as planned. Tonight’s dinner featured a bowl of cereal and a coffee mug full of cold white wine.

You ate in silence. You drank in silence. The only noise came from the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, and the occasional sound of the dog, cleaning its paws and laying by your feet protectively. Why it seemed so determined to win over your affection, you had no idea.

After sitting in silence with only your thoughts and the now sleeping dog to keep you company for what felt like hours and downing a second mug full of wine, you found yourself letting out a loud yell, startling the dog and waking it. In a fury, you pulled out the laptop you had for the sole purpose of checking once a day for emails from Yunho and connected it to the shitty, sub-par wifi with just enough patience to navigate to an airline’s website and search flights back to the states. You were looking for the cheapest, most reasonable one you could find. After all of five minutes of research and a quick round on mental math, you clicked on a date and hit the ‘book now’ button before you could second guess yourself, slamming the computer shut once the payment went through and shoving it away from you across the table.

“September 10th,” you grumbled out loud for only you and the dog to hear. Standing from the chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, you crossed the room and stopped in front of the wall calendar your sister had put up the last time she’d visited the farm just after New Years. You lifted a few pages and flipped forward to the month of September. Red marker in hand, you found the date and circled it rather aggressively, several times over. You looked down at the dog, watching you patiently with its head tilted. “You got that? I’m getting off this fucking island on September 10th.”

✧ ✧ ✧

The day your life fell apart came twelve days later just before nine in the morning.

Mondays were the delivery day, that’s what Yunho had laid out in his instructional emails to you. Your only source of personal transportation was an older jeep, one you didn’t enjoy driving, given that it had no top and needed some mechanical work done. So you’d made arrangements and had your groceries delivered on Monday mornings, buying mostly direct from another farm on the other side of the island, and they were always kind enough to act as the courier for whatever additional miscellaneous supplies you’d request, regardless of where they’d have to go to procure them.

There was a winding driveway that lead up to the house from the main road, and a larger, wider drive up a less steep hillside for larger vehicles for delivery. You were fully expecting the truck that lumbered up the delivery road and came to a stop just outside the barn which housed the massive coffee roaster and stored most of the processed green beans from harvest. Even though it had only been three weeks, there was a routine that had slowly been settling into place: the sound of the truck coming to a stop riled up the dog, the dog came running from wherever and started barking, you’d get your groceries and any other assorted items, the dog would get a treat because your delivery boy had a soft spot for the creature, and you’d pay for your goods. “Hey Jin,” you called out over the barking from the front of the barn, hands currently full with a sack of processed coffee beans you’d hoisted over your shoulder. “You can just leave the groceries on the porch, I’ll put them inside in a few. Did you manage to get me the bags of fertilizer and some wood stakes?” A loud thud sounded as you dropped the bag to its resting place on the concrete floor.

“I mean, I can go put these inside if that’s easier. And yeah, there’s ten bags to get us started, we can have more delivered next week if you still need ‘em.”

You whipped around to face whoever had just spoken, because that voice was most certainly not Jin.

He was tall like Jin, had wide shoulders like Jin, and his hair was kept just a bit long and looked ridiculously shiny and soft and like you could run your fingers through it like Jin’s. It was a lighter brown with some honeyed highlights running through it, compared to the dark brown almost black of Jin’s. You tensed, seeing him carrying a brown paper bag with a loaf of bread and the leafy green tops of carrots sticking out the top. He wasn’t looking at you, rather, he was far too occupied with bending down slightly and scratching behind the ear of the dog who was currently whining and wagging its tail at his feet. Some guard dog it was.

Without a second thought, you reached for the first sharp object you could find, which happened to be the box cutter you used to cut open the burlap bags the beans came back from the processing plant in. “You’re not Jin,” you said tersely, holding the utility knife by your hip defensively.

“Chill out killer, he’s harmless,” a more familiar voice called. Seokjin, your regular delivery driver whose family owned the farm you bought directly from, came into view carrying another two bags of produce and a small pile of envelopes. “Picked up your mail on my way up, the box was practically overflowing. Do you ever check that thing?” You’d first met Jin two years ago when you’d come to visit your sister and Yunho for a long weekend. He’d become a good friend of Yunho’s and was one of the people who would take turns feeding the dog when no one else was here.

Ignoring the unknown man, you relaxed your shoulders slightly and placed the knife down on the table behind you. “Thanks,” you grumbled, taking the small pile of letters from him. Admittedly, you hadn’t checked the mailbox since the day after you’d arrived on the farm, mostly out of sloth and spite. You sifted through the letters— mostly junk mail, with a few bills and notices relating to the business. You put those in front so you could look through them later, when you’d finished the physical work for the day. You tore one envelope open in particular when you noticed it was addressed directly to you and had your sister and Yunho’s Illinois address in the upper corner. It was a letter postmarked from two weeks ago, which struck you as odd, because what the hell would he bother writing in a letter that he couldn’t just send you in an email or a text or a phone call? You started reading aloud softly to yourself.

“‘My Dearest Bean… First of all I want to apologize for the change in plans, but with your sister’s condition her doctors just don’t recommend her traveling,’ God, he’s so dramatic she’s not terminally ill she’s just pregnant. Blah blah blah, I don’t care, you’re full of absolute shite, Yunho,” you began skimming through his lengthy pre amble, looking for the purpose behind the note. Without reading the middle you flipped the stationary paper over to see his handwriting covered the entire back of the page, too. “God, he’s so long winded. Oh, here we go, the very end— ‘I promise we’ll make it up to you, thank you for running the farm and taking care of Puppy, please be nice to Johnny and treat him well, he seems like a good kid.” You stared at the words written on the paper and looked up at Jin. “Who the fuck is Johnny?”

The man next to him cleared his throat and held his hand up. “Johnny! I’m uh, that’s me. You must be _____— I’ve heard a lot about you from Yunho! I’m Johnny Seo, it’s nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, reaching a hand out.

You eyed it but made no move to reciprocate the action. “Cool. You know Yunho. Lots of people know Yunho, he’s a huge fucking flirt, social butterfly of the century, the man never shuts up. Why should I be nice to you?”

He shifted on his feet and his outstretched hand retreated. “Oh. Uh. I’m uh, here for the summer,” he explained, sounding almost confused. “Didn’t— didn’t Yunho tell you?”

Your eyes bugged out and you looked over to Jin. “Jin who the fuck is this and why is he on my farm?” You whispered.

Your friend laughed. “You read the end of Yunho’s letter. I’m sure if you read the whole thing it would explain more. This is Johnny, and he’s here for the summer. He’s gonna help you out! I know the list of all the projects you need to finish this summer is lengthy, and plus look at the guy, he’s jacked! You could use the muscle for manual labor. More work for him, less for you, right? And look, the poor dog you refuse to give a name to even likes him!” Jin gestured comically at Johnny. You looked over, sizing him up some— Jin wasn’t wrong. The stranger was muscular on top of being tall, and under the capped sleeves of his tee shirt you saw his arms that looked the size of your head. The dog was still circling him, sniffing and begging for attention.

Johnny tried smiling again. “Yunho mentioned there was a lot of construction type work to do. I uh, had nothing else planned so he said I could stay on the farm for the summer and work in exchange for food and a place to sleep. I take it he uh, didn’t run that by you first, did he?”

Your grip on the papers in hand tightened and you felt your jaw tense involuntarily. “No, he managed to not mention that once to me. How did you even get here?” You hissed back.

“I picked him up at the airport this morning,” Jin answered calmly, “Yunho gave me a buzz a few days ago to ask if I could bring him here with this week’s groceries.”

“So he managed to arrange for him to get on a plane and secure transportation to the farm but couldn’t be bothered to call me and let me know?”

Jin only laughed, his eyes crinkling. “I’m pretty sure he knows you well enough by now to know that this would have been your reaction whatever way he told you.” Despite the kinship you’d felt growing between the two of you, Jin was Yunho’s friend first, and it only made sense that his allegiance would be to him first. Of course he’d side with Yunho on this matter. “And yes, like Johnny said I did bring a bundle of plant stakes and ten bags of fertilizer— they’re in the back of the truck bed.”

“Oh, I could get those—” Johnny started, moving to step towards the truck.

You could barely think straight. First they bailed on you unexpectedly to spend the summer on the farm alone. That was fine— you’d gotten that through your head, and had come to terms with that. But suddenly springing a plus one on you, without your consent? Absolutely the fuck not.

“Yeah. Don’t need help. Thanks,” you spat, grabbing the bags of groceries from him and brushing past, stomping your way back to the farmhouse.

Johnny stood frozen for a moment before stammering, looking from Jin to your retreating figure and back again. “I should— I should talk to her, right? Or do I—”

“Whoa, don’t think too hard there handsome, I can smell wood burning. Don’t stress about it. She’s just a little… touchy. Let me talk to her,” Jin patted Johnny on the back before heading up the path to the farmhouse after you.

You’d stormed into the house and slammed the groceries down on the counter and let out a screech of rage before picking up the receiver of the yellow rotary phone and dialing. Tapping you foot incessantly, you waited as it rang.

“He-llo~?” The singsong voice that came through the other end was far too amused with itself, more so than usual, and that’s how you knew he knew why you were calling.

“Jung Yunho you better be thankful you knocked up my sister because if it weren’t for the babies in her womb I would fly myself across the Pacific and flay you alive,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

In true unbothered fashion, your brother in law only laughed at your threat. “Ah, so I take it your employee has arrived safely! I’ll have to thank Seokjin for getting him from the airport. Can you give the Kims a pound of the special medium roast as a token of my gratitude?”

“No!” You yelled back, “No! I will not! I’m already beyond frustrated that I’m on this island alone for the entire summer, I’m doing this as a favor because we’re family! I’m not your slave, Yunho! Where was my warning, huh? When were you going to ask if I was okay with you sending some stranger to live in the same house as me, huh?!”

The familiar ache in your chest started to swell, and breathing became difficult. ‘Not now,’ you thought bitterly, ‘Please not right now-’

You curled your free hand into a fist and pressed your nails into your palm, hard, grounding yourself. Yunho’s voice on the phone blurred out and by the time his words started making sense again, you’d already missed what he’d been saying. “I’m not saying you have to like the kid, just show him some hospitality, yeah? You just said it yourself, you didn’t want to be alone this summer, and now you won’t be. I know you’re a good cook so that’s why I told him food would be included. Don’t worry, I’ve already sent some pre-payments to the Kims, so your grocery orders are doubled for the rest of the summer.” His voice went quiet for a second. You rubbed at your temple in frustration, squinting your eyes shut and forcing the mere thought of tears deep back into the recesses of your brain. “Bean? You still there?”

“Don’t get all pretend concerned, Yunho. And stop using my childhood nickname any time you want something from me.” Your voice was quieter now, the intensity of your emotions subsiding, but the betrayal you felt still running strong. “Fine. I’ll tolerate him. But there better be a case of wine in next week’s groceries to make this bearable.”

“Done and done! You’re gonna love him Bean, he’s really great. He’ll be good company.” The continued use of your childhood nickname from anyone other than your sister always gave you pause.

“I said tolerate not befriend. There’s a difference,” you clarified quickly. A knock at the door startled you, and you jumped and looked to see Jin standing by the front door, a roll of wooden stakes under his arm. You rolled your eyes and waved your arm to shoo him away, pointing at the phone pressed to your ear. “Look, Yunho, I don’t know what you’re hoping to see me get out of this, but if he drives me insane I can’t promise that he’ll walk away from this unscathed.”

His laugh echoed through the receiver and reverberated against your skin. “I just think it would do you some good to have some human interaction, that’s all. Your sister too. She says hi, by the way,” he added softly, “And so do the little ones.”

You scoffed. Yunho always brought up your sister as a way of diffusing your temper. He knew it would always work. “They’re still in embryonic fluid, they can’t talk and they certainly don’t have cognitive function.” Sometimes you wondered if even Yunho had that with the wild ideas that went through his mind.

“Ever the romantic, you are. You know, soon they’ll be able to think! And they’ll be thinking of their favorite auntie, and how much they can’t wait to meet her! So she can’t be arrested for murder between now and when they’re born, because babies can’t go to prison!”

“I’m telling your sister you said that,” you challenged. With an exhale, you did your best to let go of the frustration and tension inside and politely ended the phone call. You were trying to clear your head and collect yourself before heading back outside when you heard a yell that sounded all too much like Jin’s voice.

“What fresh hell—” you started, shuffling back outside in the direction of the commotion where you saw Jin, somewhat struggling under the weight of two bags of fertilizer, and Johnny, now with a baseball cap turned backwards on his head, easily hoisting a stack of four bags without slouching.

Your eyebrow ticked up upon the realization that it was almost seventy pounds that he was slinging around like it was nothing. “Anywhere specific you want these?” He asked innocently, looking up at where you stood on the lanai just outside the door. You almost cursed him out when he blinked at you twice.

You pointed your left arm down the hill, the opposite direction of the way to the barn. “Shed. Next to the vegetable garden.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “And lose the hat. Or at least don’t wear it backwards. Makes you look like an ass.”

Johnny’s mouth hung open for a moment before he hummed and winked. “You got it, Boss! Come on handsome, if you can carry those good looks you can carry some dirt,” he called back to Jin, who was currently grumbling about how manual labor wasn’t a part of his delivery arrangement.

The hairs on your arm stood up on edge as you watched Johnny laugh deeply as he ambled his way in the direction you’d pointed. The thirty three pound menace next to you whined and wagged its tail, panting as it went from watching you to watching Johnny’s retreating figure. You looked down and made eye contact. “If I survive this, I’m going to kill Yunho.”

✧ ✧ ✧

There was no case of wine in the grocery deliveries the following week. The reasoning Yunho gave was that per Jin’s investigation, the liquor stores were all out of your favorite wine, so there was no point in sending you a sub par alternative. It was absolute crap, but you had better things to do than chew out your brother in law over the phone. Took way more energy than it was worth.

So far, Johnny was making good on his word and earning his keep. At first, you’d tried avoiding him as much as possible, intentionally waking up hours ahead of him and starting your day when the sun rose. You never made much noise in the mornings, the loudest thing you did was make coffee, and lately you’d opted for a pour over versus pulling shots of espresso. You weren’t personally one for breakfast, choosing just coffee and maybe a piece of fruit instead. This morning you felt a little hungrier than usual, so you thought you’d get yourself a bowl of cereal. Peering into your pantry, you saw that on the shelf where there had been a stash of cereal boxes, there was now nothing.

“Where the fuck are my cocoa pebbles?” You swore in shock, not realizing you weren’t alone in the kitchen.

“Shit sorry, I ate the last of those yesterday.”

You whirled around to see Johnny, still seemingly half asleep and with some gnarly bedhead, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. His lips were so perfectly pouty, one small part of your brain almost thought he looked cute like this.

But no, he wasn’t cute, he was a thief— he’d stolen all of your cereal stash. “Did you seriously eat through four boxes in a week?” You asked incredulously.

“It was three and a quarter! And yeah I don’t know, I’m always hungry and just one bowl of cereal isn’t filling enough, so I usually have two, or three...” He mumbled, voice trailing off as he rubbed a hand behind his head sheepishly.

You snorted. And then a thought came across you. “Johnny,” you said calmly, the feeling of his name on your tongue foreign and strange. Was this the first time you’d addressed him by name since his arrival? You couldn’t remember. “Do you not know how to cook?”

He hummed thoughtfully for a second. “No-pe!” He popped the p sound in the word. How was he this cheerful, even first thing in the morning? “I mean, I can like, boil water and cook pasta and stuff like that. I think I successfully grilled pork belly once, though it was probably doused in too much oil and too many spices. My college experience was funded almost exclusively on instant dinners and takeout for two years, and then for the second half one of my roommates was an actual chef, so, no one was allowed in the kitchen ‘cept for him.”

“Honestly, I am shocked that you haven’t perished in some tragically strange idiotic accident yet,” you sighed and shuffled to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon. You grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet under the stove and clicked the burner on, reaching for the oil bottle that lived on the counter top and drizzling some in the pan.

Johnny shuffled closer to inspect what you were doing and let out a gasp of appreciation. “You’re making me eggs and bacon?”

“I’m making me eggs and bacon,” you corrected, “But I guess I’ll make enough for you too,” you said as you peeled the strips off the packaging and placed them into the pan with a sizzle. You reached for a few eggs and cracked four into the pan directly, cocked your head at the amount of food, and then grabbed two more eggs and added them in before taking a fork and scrambling them all together, adding salt and white pepper to the bubbling liquid. You glanced up at Johnny, still watching you, slightly curious. “I don’t trust you. You say you’re an adult but you eat like a teenage boy still. There’s never any leftovers.” After a few minutes you flipped the strips of bacon over and then quickly chopped up a green onion and scraped it onto the scramble just before the eggs finished cooking.

Johnny watched you the whole time, and you felt only slightly uneasy under his gaze. When you turned off the stove after plated your food and stepping away to pour yourself some coffee and he didn’t move, you gestured at the pan in a fashion as if to silently ask him ‘What?’

“Oh!” He gasped out lightly, springing into action and plating the food for himself. You hadn’t bothered to sit down at the table, instead holding the plate in front of you as you leaned against the counter and ate. Johnny followed your lead, taking a bite and groaning audibly in enjoyment at he chewed. He smiled and his eyes shone, almost sparkling. You watched him curiously for a moment before he mumbled out “Your cooking is really good! It uh, reminds me of my mom’s. She’s a great cook.”

You kept your lips tightly shut at the apparent compliment. “It’s just eggs, you weirdo. Finish up and do the dishes. When you’re done meet me by the shed. Today you’re stripping off the old paint and removing any of the rotting boards and disposing of them,” you instructed while placing your empty plate in the sink. His tasks for the day were the next phase in slowly rebuilding the dilapidated shed on the west side of the property to make it useful for storage of all the tools you used to tend to the fruit trees and vegetable garden nearby.

He flashed a smile at you and gave a mock salute. “Aye-aye, captain, I am at your service.”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, downing more of your coffee before trudging off.

It was going to be a long summer.

✧ ✧ ✧

“I’m telling you Wendy, I’m going to need an alibi, I really am going to murder my brother in law.”

“What, for giving you live-in eye candy for the summer and hinting that he thinks you need to get laid?”

“Ugh, no, that’s not— hold up, you don’t agree with him, do you?”

The sound of your best friend’s laughter through the phone had you dragging your hands over your face and pulling down at your eyelids dramatically, as if she could see your reaction.

On Thursdays, you finished up your work for the day around 4pm so you could pull up a chair next to the rotary phone and make time for the weekly scheduled phone call with Wendy. She’d insisted on the arrangement after you went six days without texting her, which you’d insisted was because service was spotty, but she’d accurately called you out on being cranky and stewing by yourself.

You and Wendy had met during your freshman year of college. By graduation, you’d lived together for three years, and made a vow to move to the same city together post grad, hence why she was still your roommate now— or was, seeing as you were on the island instead of back in the two bedroom apartment you shared. There was a five hour timezone difference between Hawaii and Chicago, so you’d figured out a schedule that worked for both of you. The calls had a tendency to last for several hours, and depending on how much wine you’d drink while on the phone with her would include bathroom breaks and you inevitably swearing at whatever you were cooking for dinner than night.

“Honey, please. I love you. Dearly, and against all other advice, you’re my best friend— but you need to get laid. You haven’t been this tense since our last finals week of senior year. And clearly you’re not opposed to the idea of Eye Candy banging your brains out, otherwise you wouldn’t have described him as, and I quote, ‘dumb hot and stupidly ripped’. When are you gonna send me a photo so I have something better to work with?”

“Okay but are you sure you’re not the sexually frustrated one here and you’re just trying to live vicariously through me?”

Wendy’s hum sounded through the line. “I mean, can’t we both be desperately horny and in need of getting some? It’s not ideal but it is possible. Plus, I’m not the one that didn’t pack her vibrator—”

You let out a whine interrupting her as you leaned back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass a few times as you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder. “Shut up stop reminding me! I regret it but no I’m not letting you send me a new one, especially not with a guy living with me. Come on, my stories are boring, it’s the same thing every day. I wake up, I feed the dog, I tell him what to do and then I hide away doing my own chores. When are you gonna tell me more about that girl you were seeing— what was her name, Joo-something?”

“Nice try, we’re not changing the subject with my dating life. Seriously, babe, you should just think about it.”

“And what, make it awkward for the rest of the summer? No thanks,” you shot her idea down quickly.

“I’m willing to bet money you’ll cave before the end of the summer. Plus, who doesn’t love a good ol’ summer fling? And who says you ever have to see him again once it’s all over?”

As much as you’d loathe to admit it, Wendy had a bit of a point there. “Cute, but you and I both know I’m too high strung for a temporary fling. Plus, I’m not in the mood to catch feelings right now.”

“If I find a way to replenish your wine supply, would that help?”

You groaned dramatically once more. “Not with the sexual frustration, but with my overall wellbeing, yes, yes it would.”

Wendy squealed on the other end of the phone. “Ha! So you admit it, you are sexually frustrated!”

“Woman, when in the years that you’ve known me have I not been at least some kind of frustrated?” You acknowledged.

Your best friend laughed in agreement, understanding she wasn’t going to get much more out of you about Johnny, and began a lengthy and detailed story about her last three dates with a girl she’d met through a friend of a friend. As you listened to how her voice held a dreamlike quality to it when she talked about her, you couldn’t help the pang of jealousy you felt and a sinking feeling in your gut that you’d been lying through your teeth earlier, and that maybe, subconsciously, you did want to catch feelings.

Maybe.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So… is there a story or a reason why you’re here instead of Yunho?”

You lifted your head from your focused task of sorting out the peaberry beans from the regular beans. It was tedious, time consuming, annoying as all hell, and made you want a drink stiffer than the coffee that you were certain made up more of your body fluids than blood or water did at this point. “Yes,” you said curtly after studying his face for a minute, not providing any further explanation. Johnny had his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, nodding for a moment where he stood in the entrance to the barn.

You had set up your mad scientist level organization for the process all across the concrete floor of the refinished barn. Over the last week, Johnny had finished replacing the boards on the siding of the shed, stained the wood, and sealed it with a protective coat. He even managed to remove all the broken glass from the windows without sustaining any injuries, which you hadn’t thought possible for him. This morning you had him weed the vegetable garden, prune back the hedges along the back side of the house, and clean the deck of the lanai. How did he possibly still have any energy left? He was definitely a harder worker than you’d first given him credit for— you shook your head, not wanting to continue a spiral on Johnny and any detailed thoughts about him.

Back to your task at hand.

The harvest had been divided into several metal basins of five pounds of beans each, and in front of each basin you’d placed two dishes on either side. The point was to be able to weigh how many beans ended up being peaberry from each five pounds of harvest, and to see if you could leverage a steady average from the yield and better plan for how many pounds of the limited roast you could advertise for and set the price per pound accordingly. You wore a face mask and nylon disposable gloves while sorting, and despite being an annoying task, after a while it became a way for you to zone out and let the hours pass by. When the dishes were empty and you first started sorting them, there was a distinct echo of the small beans hitting the metal dish over and over again, until enough beans were lining the bottom that it started to dull the noise.

“Sigh.”

A slight puff of air washed over you. Did he just say the word ‘sigh’ out loud? And was he hovering over your shoulder?

“Can I help you?” You asked, pausing your sorting for only a moment.

“Isn’t it my job to ask you that question? I’m not some layabout, I am trying to earn my keep, you know,” Johnny said in response, rubbing his hands together and eyeing the basin of beans in front of him. You were almost inclined to hand it to him. Over the last four weeks, you’d gotten a lot of decent work out of him, even if you did feel somewhat micro-manage-y half the time with the tasks you did give him. “Okay, how does this work?”

You groaned exaggeratedly and excessively, rolling your eyes. When you didn’t answer, he reached forward and plucked a single coffee bean from the basin and examined it closely. “Hey, this one’s funny looking!”

“Don’t touch them with your bare hands, that’s just going to waste them.” You swatted the bean out of his hand and then looked at your own gloves and sighed. “If you’re insisting on helping, fine. But you need sanitary gear to handle them. Go wash your hands, there’s masks and gloves by the sink,” you grumbled, standing up and taking off your own gloves to dispose of them and replace them with a fresh pair.

Johnny followed obediently, trailing behind you a little too innocently for someone of his size. “Yes, the beans still need to be roasted and that’ll kill any bacteria, but I just like to be extra cautious, okay? Because it’s a mutation there’s no rule to how much of a yield I’ll get with each harvest so I don’t like wasting even a single bean,” you reasoned, settling back down and folding your legs back at the now half-sorted metal bowl.

“So, we’re just sorting the weird ones from the normal ones?” He asked while picking up another peaberry bean, this time with gloved hands and a mask over his mouth and nose.

You took a quick glance and nodded to confirm that yes, the bean in his hand was one of the weird ones he should be looking for. “They’re called peaberry. Normally, a coffee cherry has two seeds in it, or beans. Those two seeds mature in the center of the cherry and you get one flat side and one side touching it. Sometimes people call them ‘flat beans’ but those are the ‘normal’ beans, as you said,” you explained, sifting through your bowl rather quickly. “But the peaberry ones only have one bean inside. The bean is round, so that’s where the name ‘peaberry’ comes from, because—“

“Because it’s round so it looks like a pea, oh I get it! That’s funny,” he laughed, examining the rounded bean in front of him. “Okay, got it, so we’re sorting the peaberry from the flat beans?”

“You proud of your new vocab words?” You snorted, listening for the well known tink of a bean hitting the empty metal bowls. He giggled in acknowledgement.

You worked in relative silence, a small rhythm growing between the two of you. Johnny worked at about half the speed you did, but you couldn’t knock him for it, as it had taken you a while to pick up the pace when you first started hand sorting like this.

“How do you even know Yunho?” You finally asked. Four weeks since he’d arrived, and you’d never bothered to get to know him well enough to listen to the full story of how he’d ended up here.

Johnny shifted in his seated position, clearly a little taken aback that you’d bothered to ask him anything, given your track record. “Oh. Met him in Chicago when I was home visiting. At a local coffee shop, where my buddy Jaehyun is the manager. I went to go bother Jaehyun at work and he was just, shootin’ the shit with one of his coffee suppliers who was doing a visit. That supplier was Yunho. Started talking about how he owned the farm where the beans were grown, and that he wasn’t going to be able to spend the summer out there like he’d planned, so he was looking for some reliable help to uh, take care of things. Mentioned someone else would be on site and in charge, but offered the whole ‘room and board in exchange for copious amounts of physical labor’.”

“And you said yes? Just like that, no questions asked?” It seemed a little too easy, but then again, Johnny had proved to be a little too easygoing.

He shrugged. “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the point of my whole year. Just, go with the flow.” You glanced over, but Johnny was looking down, focused on the task at hand.

You nodded and hummed and turned back to your own basin to continue sorting. A few beats passed by before you couldn’t help yourself— “You’ve said that before. ‘Go with the flow’, or that you ‘had nothing else going on’. What do you mean by that?”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Johnny’s ears perk up, followed by movement of his cheeks implying the curve of a slight smile. “I’m on a gap year, I guess is what the kids would say. Or maybe sabbatical? Though it’s not like I have any tenure enough to qualify for the real meaning of the term. But yeah, anyways— year off from work. Not getting paid or anything, but, when it’s over if I want it, my old job is waiting for me.”

“How come? That seems so—”

“Impulsive?”

You frowned. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he repeated, but not in a mocking manner— it was in agreement. “I guess the best way to explain it is this: I was a huge workaholic. I’ve only had my one job post grad after studying business, and I woke up one morning a month before my twenty-fifth birthday and realized it was sucking the soul out of me. It was all I ate, slept, breathed, and it wasn’t even what I wanted to be doing with my life, I realized.”

His pain started sounding all too familiar. “What is it you wanted to do instead, then?”

Even under the mask covering the lower half of his face, his smile reached his eyes. “Photography. I got into an art school when I was applying to colleges, but it just seemed so… risky. I would’ve had to take out loans and instead I got almost a full ride for a bigger university, so I went for that instead. Studied business, managed to grind through undergrad and grad school in four years and walked out with a combined BS and MBA. Took classes every summer to make it happen. I think after graduation, I went back to my parents house and passed out and slept for twenty-three hours straight,” he laughed, clearly recalling a specific memory. “I felt really accomplished when it was over, and even had the job offer already lined up. But I wish I had had more courage to study what I was truly passionate about.

“So after an almost three year long stint at the company and a vested 401k, I decided to take a year off to just, travel the world a bit. I grinded so hard through college I never got the chance to do study abroad, so I guess I wanted to make up for that? I never used to act on impulse or follow my heart, so, that was the goal for this year. To do only that.”

His words struck you differently. This was a whole new side to Johnny that you really weren’t expecting— not that you had a particularly three dimensional view of him to begin with. “And your heart lead you here… to my brother-in-law’s coffee farm?”

He laughed again, trying to hide just how thrilled he was that you were actually engaging in a full on conversation with him. “Well, sort of. My year off started back in February, day before my birthday. Got on a plane and did a few months backpack trip around Asia. I had no clue what would be next, thought maybe Australia, maybe Europe, but when I got off the plane in Chicago to see my mom and regroup on my packing, I decided to go straight from the airport to surprise and bother Jaehyun at his coffee shop. That day I met Yunho. That was a little over six weeks ago. And now I’m here, with you.”

There was something about the way he said that that didn’t sit well in your stomach— with you, like it was a good thing, like he liked it. You didn’t deign him with a response to the end of his story. Like an extension of the current state of your mind, your hands were reaching, feeling around for something, but you were only met with the flat surface of the bottom of the basin.

You looked down to see the last of the metal bowls was empty. Somehow, you’d managed to sort through all twenty pounds of coffee beans. You pulled the face mask down under your chin as you stared at the metal surface for a moment before standing abruptly and turning on your heels.

Confused, Johnny called your name out after you questioningly. “It’s getting late and I’m hungry. You uh, bag up the peaberry and set it aside and then wash out all the metal trays,” you gave him his next set of tasks quickly to make your escape back to the farmhouse to put some distance between the two of you.

A little over an hour later, you’d put together a curry on the stove with some stew meat and a base that included apples, carrots, potatoes, and melted dark chocolate for a more mellow sweet taste to balance it out. You thought about the first time Johnny complimented your cooking when it was just eggs, and how he’d continued to compliment it with every new meal you’d make. You wouldn’t call yourself a chef by any means, thinking that enjoying your go-to recipes would be a more acquired taste, and were in the midst of serving yourself when Johnny came inside with the dog trailing behind him. You didn’t bother saying much, you never did when you’d finished cooking a meal; just a grunt acknowledging his presence and a head nod at the food before you took your bowl and went through the door to go sit on the lanai by yourself. Absent-mindedly, you whistled for the dog to follow you.

Johnny kept to himself that night, eating at the kitchen table, content with looking up out the bay window to see you hand feeding small chunks of meat from your bowl to the dog, even going so far as to pet its head. He shook his head to himself thinking about how you pretended to be so opposed to the dog, and how you still hadn’t given it a name, and smiled as he took another bite.

✧ ✧ ✧

At five weeks, you stopped watching Johnny like a hawk, and started giving him more lengthy tasks that you, quite frankly, just didn’t want to do yourself. Though, if you were being honest, every task you gave him was one you didn’t want to do yourself.

Such as his current one, which was to prep the ground for a new row of sapling fruit trees. You’d walked down from the farmhouse over the hill to the open area next to a row of lemon and guava trees where you’d set him to the task of digging a row of four foot wide, four foot deep holes. The week after next, Jin’s delivery would be a much larger one, and include a number of sapling fruit trees from his family’s farm— rambutans, limes, and mangos, to name a few. You wanted to make sure the holes got dug and the irrigation system set in place properly well in advance.

When you came to a stop at the end of the row of freshly dug holes in the ground you blinked once. Twice. A third time. The sight before you was impossible to comprehend. Because not only was Johnny finishing digging the last of ten massive holes having taken less than three hours to do so, but he had been digging them shirtless.

“What. What?” You asked, staring, eyes wide and brow furrowed.

“Huh?” He asked, looking up from the bottom of the last hole and swishing his head to get his bangs, matted with sweat against his forehead, out of his face. The sun had crested over to this side of the hill now and it was blisteringly hot out. Standing in direct sunlight, doing physical labor, obviously he’d worked up a sweat.

You had to tear your eyes away from the shine on his torso and return them to just his face. “Where the fuck is your shirt?”

He pointed to where a lump of fabric was off to the side next to a water bottle. “It’s fucking hot out, I was dying,” he reasoned.

“You’re hot,” you mumbled under your breath, turning on your heel to give yourself reprieve from the onslaught that was Johnny’s unexpected number of defined abdominal muscles that were usually covered by cotton t shirts.

“What was that?” He called, squinting up into the sun from the bottom of the hole.

“I said, put a god damn shirt on before you come back in my house,” you called back, already wrapping your arms around yourself and heading back to the farmhouse. “And dinner’ll be ready in twenty, so finish up,” you added, trudging off before he could respond.

What you would have seen if you’d turned back around was an open mouthed smile curl across his face, as Johnny hummed to himself at the joy he felt for this, the first time you’d bothered to warn him when dinner would be ready.

✧ ✧ ✧

Ever since you’d seen Johnny shirtless, you’d be restless.

Well, restless was the polite word. The word to better describe what you’d been feeling was… frustrated?

Distracted? Peeved? Worked up?

Horny.

The word you were avoiding was horny.

Wendy had been the one to get you to admit it during your last weekly phone call. You told her about the shirtless incident and the first thing she asked was if you had plans to throw out the washing machine and instead start doing your laundry on Johnny’s abs, which did not help your predicament any further. It was also Wendy who had pointed out that you’d been alone on this farm for almost two months with a dog and a man too pretty for his own good, and despite how he represented everything you were annoyed at in life at the moment, after seeing his half naked figure, it would only be natural for you to have been a little turned on. And a little turned on was exactly where you were— for the last week, you had been going on runs every night to release the excess pent up energy you suddenly had.

The last time you exercised this much you were still in college. Back then you went on hour long runs through the city with your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ because it was the only way you weren’t constantly bombarded with an on onslaught of messages from classmates, friends, family, or your on campus job that took up way too much of your time. And now, you found yourself returning to old habits, this time because what, you were too proud to just rub one out like the rest of humanity? (That phrasing, too, was courtesy of your best friend, when she again reminded you of your failure to pack your vibrator.)

After another eight miles up and down the road outside the farm that ran along the island’s coast your legs felt like absolute jello when you finished, but your head was empty enough that you were able to return to the property and exist near Johnny in peace. You walked by the barn on your way up to the farmhouse, sticking your head inside briefly to look for him. You didn’t hear any noise, and didn’t find him at first glance, but didn’t think much of it as you went back inside.

The dog was already in the kitchen, so that should have been your first clue. You opened the fridge and peered inside, pulling out a number of assorted ingredients to make a lemon cream sauce for pasta with chicken.

You set a pot of water to boil, turned the oven on to preheat, and began melting butter, garlic, oil, and a variety of herbs in a sauce pan. That plus the low hum of the overhead fan meant just enough noise that you couldn’t hear the water running from the small shower on the other side of the house, and you didn’t think twice as the heat cast off by the appliances made you feel even stuffier post-run, and you peeled your shirt off your body and rolled the waistband of your shorts down an inch, pressing your bare feet flat against the hardwood flooring to try and get some semblance of cooling relief.

It was only a few moments later, with the water boiling and pasta cooking inside and the chicken already seasoned and in the oven, when you peered over the bubbling sauce pan and dipped the edge of your pinky into the mixture to bring just a taste up to your mouth. Just like you’d hoped, it was light and had a kick of citrus to it from the lemon, but not so much that it was overpowering. You closed your eyes and hummed in appreciation as you licked the sauce off, which, in retrospect, probably sounded far too much like a moan for your own good.

“Jesus fuck—”

And suddenly, you realized you weren’t alone inside the house.

You screamed at first from the shock of being startled by the noise, and then again when it registered in your brain that Johnny was standing in the kitchen, hair dripping wet, chest bare and abdominal muscles just as defined as the last time you’d seen them, face flushed in some sort of embarrassment with a bath towel wrapped around his hips.

Johnny was fresh out of the shower, nearly naked in your kitchen, clutching his clothes balled up in his left hand.

You scream again.

“What are you doing?!” You shrieked out, raising your voice over the dog’s excited barking at the commotion the two of you had begun making.

He stammered for a moment, clearly frozen in place. “I was just! You were gone, and I was done for the day, so I took a shower but I— I forgot my change of clothes in my room and these towels are small and just— Jesus why are you wearing so little clothing?!”

Your fury returned full force at the comment. “Why am I wearing so little clothing? You’re in a towel for fuck’s sake! This is my house, I live here! I should be the one asking you where your clothes are!”

“They’re here, in my hand!” He yelled back, waving the bundle around frantically. “I just said I forgot them when I went to shower!”

Your eyes bugged out of you head as your gaze traveled down, taking in the entirety of the figure before you and— oh.

“Are you… are you hard right now?” You asked in bewilderment.

The way the color drained out of Johnny’s face and the speed with which he moved the bundle of clothing to hold it over the space between his legs answered your question.

“Oh, my god.” Exasperated, you slammed your eyes shut and held your hands up by your sides. “What the fuck, John.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— fuck, shit I made it weird— please don’t get mad, I can totally fix this,” he started spewing apologies, and you heard him take two steps closer to you. “Wait, were you looking at my dick?”

“Ah!” You spat out, turning away from him. His question was valid but you had no intention of acknowledging it. “Out! Get out of my house, go… somewhere else until that goes away or you can, I don’t know, take care of it!” You instantly thought of the implication of your words and then yelled again. “No— don’t— fuck, don’t do that! Jesus for the love of god don’t take care of it while I’m standing here—” you were stammering and beyond flustered. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to someone who had just gotten a fucking boner by looking at you, sweaty in a sports bra, while sucking a cream colored substance off the tip of your pinky?

You exhaled deeply, eyes still closed. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go to your room. I am going to finish cooking my dinner. You will be absolutely silent until you hear me leave. I will be staying at the condo for the next week. You will either ration the leftovers or fend for yourself, I do not care. Got it?” You signed out again, eyes flicking open. Johnny held his bundle of clothes in front of his legs and nodded his head once, not bothering with any comeback before he shuffled to the guest room and shut the door quietly.

It took another twenty minutes for the meat to finish cooking and the dish to be full prepared. How you managed to keep your head empty and shut off your internal monologue during that time, you’ll never know, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You packed two servings into a Tupperware container for yourself before shoving some clothes in a duffle bag and grabbing the keys to the jeep you hated driving. It was only about ten minutes down the road to the condo, but it was almost fifteen miles, so you figured this was the lesser of two evils. You whistled for the dog to follow you, and it was all too excited to jump in the passenger seat of the car. The farmhouse was now dry of liquor, what with Yunho not making good on his promise a month ago and your weekly wine dates with Wendy, but you knew the condo definitely had some spirits stashed somewhere in a cabinet. You were going to need that and a nice hot bath to destress after that encounter.

Meanwhile, Johnny sunk down on to the floor inside the guest room, his back pressed against the door. When he heard the sound of the jeep’s engine turning over, he sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair. There were no better words to describe it: he was truly and utterly fucked.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stayed at the condo only for three days, and did little other than sleep, binge watch some TV since there was better electricity and internet here, and eat your way through slightly stale bags of chips and frost bitten freezer dinners that were months old. Because you couldn’t just open the door and let the dog out to run through the property for whatever exercise or bathroom needs it had, you had to actually walk it with a leash and everything. You paid less attention to how domestic the action of clipping the leash on to the collar you’d found in an unopened delivery package on the kitchen table was, and thought more about how slothful you’d felt over the last 60-odd hours of self isolation, especially after two months of working outdoors every day.

It was childish to keep hiding from Johnny. It’s not like you could prove that he’d gotten hard looking at you, and really, shouldn’t you take it as sort of a compliment? (Well, maybe you wouldn’t go that far.)

It was Monday when you returned to the farm, parking the jeep back by the barn and hip checking the door shut after the dog went running off in search of Johnny. It found him carrying pruned branches of trees down to the area where you burned excess brush, and you could hear the excited sound of his voice at the return of the creature as you walked slowly down the hill towards him.

“I missed you! It’s been so lonely without you, but I guess I’m glad your mommy had you with her, huh?” He cooed at the dog, rubbing its face in his hands after dropping the bundle of branches and flopping its ears from side to side. Hearing Johnny refer to you as a mother, even of the animal, had you grimacing.

“Ew,” you said, making your presence known. He stood up suddenly, possibly just a little embarrassed.

“Oh! You’re uh, you’re back.” You nodded, lips pressed together in a flat line. Your hands were full, carrying two takeout coffees from a shop down near the condo you’d stopped at on the way back. You’d forgotten how much the farm felt like a different planet, a different space in time almost, because of how isolated it felt. The act of ordering a coffee to go rather than making it yourself in the morning was equal parts bewildering and soothing.

You had no idea what compelled you to order an iced americano along with the cortado you’d gotten for yourself. You didn’t really know much about Johnny beyond the one conversation you’d had about how he ended up meeting your brother in law and crashing on the farm with you in the first place. But somehow, ordering the drink had felt right, and you thought of it as a potential peace offering to cut the tension.

“This is yours,” you said plainly after some thought, trying to remove any and all emotion from your tone.

He blinked a few times before taking three steps towards you and reaching his hand out to take the drink. He mumbled a soft thank you and sipped without bothering to ask what was inside.

“You’re just going to take the drink a stranger offers you, no questions asked?”

“Ooh!” His eyes perked up when he tasted the coffee. “I mean, I’ve never questioned any of the food you’ve made me so far, why start now? Besides,” he shrugged, taking another sip, “I trust you.”

You snorted. “That’s a stupid thing to do.”

Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.” He nodded to the paper cup in your hand. “What’s your poison?”

“Cortado,” responded curtly, ignoring his comments that were cutting a bit too deep for ten in the morning.

“Ah, a strong espresso pull with a balance of steam milk and a touch of foam. Nice choice. I can definitely appreciate one, but I’m a little too impatient and drink them too quickly— I think that’s why I love americanos so much, because it lasts a little longer.”

You tilted you head to the side, puzzled. “Wait. You… actually know things about coffee?”

“I mean, yeah,” he laughed, “What do you think I spent three hours talking with Yunho about the day we met? I did my time as a barista in college. Free coffee every shift was hard to pass up when you’re doing almost a double course load every other semester. I’ve always been curious about the growing and roasting process, and I know a lot of people do home roasting as a hobby but I just never made the time to explore it.”

Well, duh, you thought, that actually made sense. “Oh god, and here I’ve been making my lame ass bitter pour over all summer— you know how to pull a shot of espresso then I take it? You’ve seen the La Marzocco on the counter, how come you’ve never used it?”

He pouted his lips out in a flat line and shrugged comically. “Dunno. I mean, I’m a guest and a worker first, and it’s not mine, so, I didn’t wanna make any assumptions. But if this is an open invitation to use it, I’m more than happy to accept.”

You chewed on the inside of your mouth for a moment. You could feel it in the air as the hairs on your arms stood up slightly, goosebumps running down your skin. You hoped in wasn’t too noticeable. Maybe this was it— maybe it really was time to extend an olive branch and have more than half a conversation with him every four days. “It’s a little older and sort of temperamental, but it’s still a good machine. I’ll… show you the quirks tomorrow morning, or whenever you want something to drink,” you offered.

It was then that you discovered this: Johnny was not a great actor. He wore his heart on his sleeve. You figured this to be true because he could barely contain the smile that spread across his face, and the energetic nod he gave, and the mild soft exhale (squeal?) of excitement. You rolled your eyes gently and turned away, drink in hand. “When it cools down later after dinner, I’m roasting tonight. You’re welcome to join.”

You gave him the benefit of not bearing witness to the fist pump he made as you walked away.

Dinner that night was stir fried ground pork with carrots and zucchini from the garden served over rice. It was one of your comfort dishes, easy to make and easy to clean up after, since it used only two pans. As soon as you’d finished eating, this time sitting at the table together with Johnny, he’d cleared the dishes and got to cleaning up right away. You stretched your arms overhead and leaned back in your chair far enough to crack your back slightly with a loud pop.

“Oof, that sounded like it felt good,” he laughed from the sink. You hummed in agreement. “So what’d you do before this? Desk job hunched over a computer like the rest of us?”

“Mmm something like that. You may have been bored out of your mind in business, but I sold my soul years ago to work in advertising.”

“Why does that like, fit?” He asked, turning the water off and drying the pan you’d used for cooking by hand.

“You saying I have no soul?” You challenged.

He shrugged. “Hey, you said it, not me. We’re both just cogs in the machine that is late stage capitalism, I guess.”

You didn’t know how deeply you wanted to get into it with Johnny just yet. Maybe eventually, but, not right now. “Yeah, well, I was just a Project Manager, not like a Copywriter or anything. Did you know Yunho was a staff Art Director before he switched to the coffee business full time? We used to work at the same agency a few years back.”

Johnny snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “Ah, that’s right! I remember him saying something about that, made the same jokes about having no soul. You two are a lot alike for not being related by blood.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong; sometimes you wondered if you’d become closer with Yunho that you were with your sister at this point. “Enough about that. If you’re done follow me, it’s probably cool enough to fire up the roaster. I just want to do a test batch of like, five pounds with the regular beans to see how this year’s harvest takes to our standard roast,” you explained, heading to the door and slipping on your sneakers. “Don’t let the dog out, it gets scared from the loud noises and I don’t need it freaking out.”

Johnny dried his hands and followed after you to the barn. You flicked on the lights and went straight for the sink to pull your hair out of your face, wash your hands, and put on a pair of gloves and a mask. Johnny followed your lead, even going so far as to tie up the top layer of his hair on top of his head. “Hey look! It’s like an apple,” he bobbed his head from side to side to make the tiny ponytail move back and forth, and you couldn’t help but snort as you tried to suppress your laughter.

“Dork,” was all you said. You went to the storage racks to pick up one of the sorted burlap bags of beans and hoisted it over your shoulder to carry it to a metal prep table where you carefully opened it and began scooping out the green beans and pouring them into a bowl on a metal scale that had been zeroed out. “So obviously you know that coffee is counted by weight in pounds. That monstrosity,” you jerked your head in the direction of the massive eight foot tall machine in the corner of the room, “Can handle up to twenty-five pounds of beans in the barrel at a time. Because it’s so big, it’s best to not do super small batches, otherwise you risk burning the beans. Since I’m going for five pounds, it’ll be okay, but if I was doing any less I’d use one of the table top roasters, since they have a smaller barrel.” You finished weighing out five pounds and handed the container to him to carry.

You continued explaining the full process of roasting and science behind it as you flipped switches, checked that the exhaust was hooked up properly, and set the dials for the heat and time on the industrial roaster before pulling the door to the funnel open and having Johnny slowly pour the beans inside. “God you’re a fucking giant, I always need a step stool to reach that high,” you commented as he made the reach with ease.

You weren’t kidding when you said the roaster was loud when it was running. Thankfully with the size of the machine and this batch, it was only eleven minutes of the two of you standing just a few feet away in case anything went wrong and you had to hit the emergency stop, holding your hands over your ears to block the sound. Johnny began jokingly exaggerating mouthing something out, and you felt almost like friends as you laughed at his antics. You were never the best at reading lips. Especially not Johnny’s, they were too full and distracting on their own for you to make sense of the mouth shapes. When the machine came to a grinding halt and the noise suddenly stopped, he was still shouting words and his voice echoed around the space in the absence of the noise, “I said, I think you’re— oh, wow, that was fast,” he quickly diverted, catching himself from finishing whatever it was he was about to say.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of trying to pry out of him what he was in the process of saying under the protection of the loud noises. You shook it off mentally and showed him how to remove the beans from the roasting chamber. “So you take them out like this, and then they’re still going to be warm for a while, so it’s best to let them rest for a bit. If you were to brew them right away, the flavor might not be what you’re expecting, so if you wait for them to sit for a few days, you’ll notice a considerable difference in the flavor profile—”

You stopped suddenly, a sound in the distance suddenly registering to you. You left Johnny standing there with the roasted coffee in hand and trailed to the edge of the barn and then you heard it more clearly— the sound of the old rotary phone ringing. “Oh, shit,” you swore and took off running back up to the house. The only person who had the number for the landline other than Wendy were Yunho and your sister. Wendy didn’t call you outside of your Thursday night appointments. You did the math in your head— it was the end of June, your sister’s due date wasn’t til the end of August, but early labor was always something you’d heard about, especially with more than one baby.

Hands shaking, you got to the phone on what could have been the last ring and panted out a greeting of Yunho’s name, already knowing it was him.

“Oh thank god you answered, I’ve been calling for the last twenty minutes, where were you?” He chastised immediately. You felt uneasy at the tone in his voice.

You stammered in response. “I— we were in the barn, I was roasting so I couldn’t hear the phone— what’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Yunho sighed out heavily and was quiet. “She’s going to be okay, but there was a… scare,” you could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I don’t want to not tell you either. She slipped getting out of the shower, landed on her hip. Started having lower abdominal pain right after. We thought maybe it was going to be now, but, she’s fine. The doctors think they were phantom contractions? Whatever they were they’re gone now. The babies are fine, but she’ll most likely be in the hospital until the due date. If she starts experiencing any kind of contractions between now and then, though, they’ll want to induce labor.” You could tell he was still stressed and worried, but you nodded and listened as he explained some of the medical details a bit further. “Anyways, all this to say, the next time I call, it could be to tell you that you’re an auntie.”

From the moment you heard the phone ringing this late at night and calculated that it was almost two in the morning in Chicago, the tightness in your chest had been building. Listening to Yunho speak delicately about your sister’s condition was one thing— you thought it was a sigh of relief when he said that everything was fine, but then it was most certainly not fine when the gravity of his last words really hit you.

“Little Bean are you listening? Is the signal bad? I know the connection isn’t always great—”

You inhaled sharply as the pressure inside came to a head. “Yunho I gotta go,” you gasped out, barely able to make sense of thoughts to get the words out.

Before you could hear his rebuttal you slammed the phone on to the receiver to end the call and covered your face with your hands still in their nylon gloves. Despite standing in an open space, you suddenly felt like the room was spinning and the walls were closing in on you. Out, out, you had to get out—

“Hey, everything okay in here?”

Fuck.

Johnny was standing in the door, a look of concern on his face. You heaved into your hands and choked out a sob, feeling the wetness in your eyes building. No no no, everything was most certainly not okay in here. You shouldn’t have made eye contact, you should have known better, because looking at his face, his stupid perfect face and his genuine care for your wellbeing, it set you free falling over the precipice.

You were spiraling, and hard, and needed to land. It was instinctual, the way you cried out and ran pushing past him before breaking into an all out sprint down the hill to the fruit trees. Your legs barely kept up with the velocity of running at a decline, stopping short of tumbling and falling forward. The only thing that you knew to help this, the thing that had worked for you in the past, and you raced through the grove of trees for the larger one at the very end. It was one of the older trees, well mature and established with its root system, so you could always expect it to produce fruit.

But you’d harvested a large amount of the fruit in the last few weeks from the lower branches, and the only remaining fruit that would be ripe enough for your purposes was on the higher branches just out of reach. Over the sound of your pained sobs, you couldn’t hear Johnny’s approach or him asking what was wrong, your one track mind just trying desperately to jump and reach, fingertips barely brushing on the fruit you were reaching for.

“Hey hey, calm down, what are you—” he started.

“Shut up! Just shut— don’t tell— don’t tell me calm— calm—” you couldn’t make the words make sense, in your head you were screaming don’t tell me to calm down, but the act of translating that into words on your tongue was downright Herculean right now, it just wasn’t happening. Your knees began wobbling and standing too started feeling impossible. The tightness in your chest had expanded to reach your back, and though you were clearly still getting air by the fact that you hadn’t passed out yet, you felt like you weren’t breathing at all. You were crying outright now, tears wet and hot and painful as the sobs escaped your throat.

It didn’t take a genius to figure that you were trying to reach a fruit on a branch just above your wingspan. Johnny placed one large hand against your back gently and reached all the way up, fingers wrapping around what he assumed was the object of your fixation, before twisting and pulling to release it from the tree. “Hey,” he said softly, “This what you need?”

As soon as you made sense of the object in front of you you seized it from his hands, biting directly through the rind of the lemon. A muffled sob came out as your knees buckled and you sank to the ground. The bitter rush of citrus did part of its job, and brought your consciousness back down to earth. But your breathing didn’t steady, and your heart was still pounding, and the tears were still falling.

It wasn’t working, your grounding technique; not like it had the previous times, like the night you’d first gotten the phone call from Yunho saying they weren’t coming, and not like the time you bit into a lemon in the kitchen at work after first getting the phone call that your sister was pregnant, and even the time before that when she told you she and Yunho were moving, or when Yunho had asked you if he could marry your sister. If you were more with it, you would have thought for a moment longer about how all of your largest panic attacks of the last several years seemed to be linked to things about Yunho and your sister. Biting into a whole lemon had been your go-to for years, and suddenly, it wasn’t working.

“Fuck!” You cried out, spitting the lemon into your palms, “Fuck fuck fuck! Why isn’t it— why isn’t it working?!” Your words were absolutely frantic, and you were yelling at yourself more than your companion who, quite frankly, you’d forgotten was even there.

Until you felt a shadow pass over you in the moonlight and a pair of arms enveloping you in an embrace.

The top of your head was pressed against his chest and his hands found their way to the planes of your back and began rubbing soft circles. Softly he tutted out a shushing noise, voice barely above a whisper, steady. “Come on, let it out, I’m right here. I’ve got you, you’re not alone,” he said calmly, “You’re gonna get through it. Try to take a deep breath, that’s good now hold it as long as you can— okay, that’s okay, try again, try to hold on to it and let it out slowly this time.”

You’d never had anyone physically with you and help you through a panic attack before. You’d had them around people in the past, but no one had ever made a move to help you through it— not like this, not like him, not like he was doing right now by attempting to guide your breathing. The one time you had one in front on Wendy, you’d locked yourself in the bathroom and refused to answer her while you came down, and she never pressed you about it afterwards.

You had no idea how much time passed as Johnny held you in his arms, keeping a steady rhythm of his palms on your back and letting you cry it out into the fabric of his shirt, your hands wringing the material so strongly you thought you’d tear holes where your nails were.

One hand traveled to the back of your head and he stroked that too. “I’ve got you, I’m right here,” he said again.

After a longer period of silence, your ears stopped ringing and you could finally make out the chirping of the crickets in the night. You sniffled and rubbed the last of the trails the tears had left on your cheeks into his shirt, mumbling an apology into it.

“Don’t do that,” he said softly, keeping his voice low, almost as if he was afraid he’d scare you off if he raised it any higher. “I mean— haha, don’t apologize. It’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll wash out. If it doesn’t, it’s just a tee shirt, I can always buy another.” His tone was even paced and calm, and in pressing your ear against his chest you could hear the reverberations as he spoke.

The humid summer air was heavy as usual, even this late at night. You don’t know how long you sat there in silence, wrapped in Johnny’s arms listening to his heartbeat, but eventually you acknowledged that your heart was beating in time with his. Whether you liked it or not, he had been the thing to ground you, and not a stupid fucking lemon.

You shifted slightly, making a move to stand, but Johnny stopped you. “Whoa whoa, hang on lemme get ready— okay, hold on to my shoulders, that’s it.” Your fingers dug into his arms as he adjusted his legs and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back and stood up, taking you with him.

“Shit,” you mumbled out, head rushing at the quick movement and the realization that your legs were still bent over his arm, and Johnny was now carrying you. “Hey, heavy,” your words were still soft.

“Mmm, nah, nothing I can’t handle,” his response was easy, dismissive of your complaint, but not in a bad way. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but— anxiety? Panic attack?” You sucked in a breath at the word. You hated that word. That word made you feel weak, even if it was exactly what this was. You dug your nails into his skin slightly on a reflex of bracing yourself, not with this intention of inflicting damage. “Got it. I get it,” he had approached the house and walked to the door, reaching for the handle with the hand under your knees. “I’ve had a few myself. Not recently, but back in college, maybe two or three? Don’t think they were ever as strong as that, though. I tried the lemon trick once, it actually worked pretty well for me. Didn’t make the next time I did a tequila shot all that fun though, couldn’t enjoy citrus for at least a month after that.” His soft laughter shook his chest and you leaned in further. Listening to his voice was comforting. It was keeping you steady. It made you feel safe, and in this moment, you were too tired to think about how you probably should have hated that. “Think you could swallow some water? Rehydrating is important.”

Your head nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna put you down now.” He used his foot to push one of the chairs away from the table and set you down on to the seat gently. The dog was immediately at your knees, whining lowly and attempting to give as many kisses as you’d accept. “Here,” he said gently, crouching down in front of you and holding a glass out. “Drink what can, but not too fast. There you go, that’s it,” his large hand clasped over your knee, thumb rubbing circles on the side. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” you rasped out, voice raw from all the crying earlier.

Johnny smiled softly. “Good, that’s good. Okay, I think you need to get to bed, yeah? Or do you wanna take a shower or something first?” You shook your head. “Okay, just washed your face then?” You nodded. Your conscious monologue was returning, but bringing words from your mind to your mouth was still proving difficult. Johnny didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered you his hand. “Need help getting up?”

You answered by gripping on to his hand and using his shoulders to help you stand up. Johnny walked you to your room, holding his arm out for you as a guide. You were able to bear weight on your feet now, and though your steps were slow, you made it to the bathroom to wash your face and and change into sleepwear. Johnny waited by the door, averting his eyes for privacy for you, and returned to your side to help you into bed.

When he leaned over you to pull the sheets up, you reached for his wrist and asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

His face went blank before it softened into a smile. “Because. I told you earlier, didn’t I? You’re a good person. Should be simple as that, yeah?”

You didn’t have a response for him, only shifting deeper into the pillows. He turned off the light and retreated to the door frame. “Try and get some rest. Call me if you need me, okay?”

Your head managed a nod, and Johnny finally left, leaving the door to your room slightly ajar. You listened for the sounds of him milling about the house, his footsteps softly shuffling against the floorboards, a few mumbled words to the dog that followed at his heels, until you finally fell asleep.

When you dreamed that night, you dreamt of him, the sound of his voice, and the way your blood felt on fire whenever he looked at you and smiled.

✧ ✧ ✧

Johnny never asked you about the panic attack.

He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t ask what caused it, he didn’t even allude to it in any conversation over the next week. The next day he was just a little bit more gentle with you with the tone and volume of his speaking voice, but when you showed no signs of still be affected from the previous night, he let it go and didn’t bother you about it.

You couldn’t tell if you loved him or hated him for it.

Confusion on your feelings aside, as June came to a close and the morning of July 3rd came, you woke up to the sound of the espresso machine running. Johnny had very quickly proven that he was worth his salt as a barista, even though it had been several years, and had a very nice shot pull. He even figured out the steamer, which was the most finicky part of the machine, and had been making you cortados every morning. That’s what you were sipping now from a metal camper mug, as you walked with him to the shed.

“I think that all that’s left is nailing down that last sheet of roofing and then we’re done,” he hummed cheerfully, inspecting the building. It looked brand new, a marked improvement from the broken windows and bleached paint job it had sported two months ago.

Two months. Was that really how long he’d been here? You didn’t want to think too much about it, about how those two months gone meant you had reached the half way point, and that there were about two months left.

Two months…

“We should celebrate,” he said suddenly, and you looked up puzzled.

“We?”

“Sure!” He exclaimed, “I had no idea what I was doing. I just did what you told me to. This was one of the biggest projects for the summer, right? And plus, not that I care too much for the holiday, but won’t there be fireworks and stuff for the Fourth? Come on, this house has been dry for weeks, let’s go get some booze and live a little, huh?” He prodded your side with his elbow and began needling at you, saying huh, huh, huh over and over until you groaned and relented.

“Fiiiiiine, let’s go before the stores get crowded when everyone realizes everything’s gonna be closed tomorrow.”

The dog was less than pleased that you’d sent it back into the house when you picked up the keys to the jeep. Usually you took it with you, but this time you decided against it, since you weren’t sure how the liquor store would feel with you bringing the stray dog off leash into the store with you.

“All you, big guy,” you said to Johnny as you tossed the car keys at him.

“Aren’t you gonna ask if I know how to drive first?” He quipped back quickly while walking to the driver’s side.

“Nah,” you shrugged comically, hoisting yourself up by the frame of the car. You buckled yourself in and watched as he did the same and adjusted the mirrors for his height. “Besides,” you looked down to inspect your fingernails as if they were the most fascinating thing on the planet, “I trust you, or whatever.”

“Bit of a stupid thing to do, but alright,” he smiled, echoing your words back at you. “Kidding, I’m an excellent driver. Alright, co-pilot! You have the most sacred duty bestowed upon you—”

“Navigation?”

“No, music selection, duh,” he scoffed and handed you the aux cord and pulled out a cell phone you’d never seen him hold before. You stared at the device as he unlocked it and pulled up his music library. Johnny noticed your surprised expression out of the corner of his eye. “What, it’s not like I have a use for it out here. Your wifi sucks and I’m not about to rack up a huge cell phone bill, so it stays off in my duffle bag most of the time. Anyways, this is a test! Pick whatever your heart desires.” The smirk on his face was beyond mischievous as he handed it to you.

You sighed and settled into the seat and began scrolling. What to pick, what to pick…

Surprisingly, there was a decent number of songs you recognized, and one album in particular you were a fan of. You scrolled down the track listing to about the half way point and pressed play.

The sounds of The Killers and the familiar guitar chords that were practically sewn into your DNA began to filter through the speakers. Johnny smiled and started clapping as the car reached the bottom of the driveway and he flipped on the turn signal. “Oh my god, Mr. Brightside, excellent choice! Okay, you passed the first test. But do you know the words?” He teased.

You gasped in feigned offense as the lyrics came to the chorus, and as he accelerated up to speed you began to belt the words out as loud as you could manage. For once you weren’t thinking about how you hated that the jeep had no top while the wind whipped past you on all sides as Johnny sped down the highway. As the song played, the magic high of belting the words to something fifteen years old that were still imprinted in your brain didn’t seem to wear off like you’d expected it to.

“Alright, chop chop what’s next maestro!” He called over the sound of the wind as the song came to a close. You already had something queued up, something a little more recent, and you smiled as the words to the next song began filtering through the speakers, letting the music carry the drive and not belting along with it this time. You tried to not think too deeply about the lyrics of the chorus as it played.

'Cause you're the last of a dying breed Write our names in the wet concrete I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me? I'm here in search of your glory There's been a million before me That ultra-kind of love You never walk away from You're just the last of the real ones

As the bridge played and you neared your destination, Johnny tilted his head towards you while keeping his eyes on the road. “Growing up, it was like, a badge of honor as a Chicago kid to have gone to a Fall Out Boy show when they still played the smaller clubs. I snuck into one when I was 16— it was an 18 and over show— felt like I was hot shit when I got away with it.”

“Don’t know why, but you don’t strike me as a Fall Out Boy fan,” you admitted. From your scroll through his music library, you saw most of their discography saved to his phone.

“Hey, I had my embarrassing wannabe emo phase too.”

“Had?” You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing. Johnny didn’t give a response to that one, and as another Fall Out Boy song played through the speakers you let yourself rest in a comfortable lack of conversation, instead sharing the music with him as he drove. It only took to the end of that third song to reach your destination and based on how he handled the drive and parking, true to his word Johnny was an excellent driver.

Johnny followed you closely once inside, his eyes scanning up and down the shelves of the tiny liquor store before he reaches and picks up a six pack of pilsner. “You ever try this one?”

Your nose wrinkles in disgust. “I don’t do beer.”

Johnny blinks twice in response and plops the six pack back down on the shelf. “Noted. What do you drink?”

“If I’m picking?” He nods. “I’m a slut for rosé or champagne. Any sparkling wine, really, it makes me feel fancy and you get to turn basic days into little celebrations.” You follow him as he walks down the aisle to where the selection of wine was shelved and starts looking through the options. “Hang on, you’re not gonna grill me about the beer thing?”

“You say that like your friends usually give you shit for it.”

You crossed your arms and shuffle your feet underneath you. “Well, yeah. Usually.”

“Then I would say,” he trails off for a moment, bending and squatting to see a label on a lower shelf before picking up two bottles of the same brand, “You need new friends. Or that your current ones need to learn boundaries, take your pick. How’s this look for one option? Since this is a celebration and all,” he says with a wink.

Leaning forward, you study the label on the bottle for a moment before nodding in approval. You agree to his point that since they were 15% off if you bought six or more bottles, it only made sense to buy more, and besides, “It’s not like you won’t drink them eventually when you’re on the phone with Wendy.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that. “How do you know her name?”

“I’m quiet not deaf, and you’re louder than you think you are,” he says matter-of-factly before heading to the cashier to pay for your selection. You bite your tongue then, hoping to whatever deity was watching you (and probably laughing) that he’d overheard one of the conversations that wasn’t about Wendy insisting you should bone him.

Johnny picks the music on the way back, opting for some Bleachers and Paramore now that he knew at least part of your music taste and how it aligned with his.

Your new selection of wine goes into the fridge as soon as you get home, and Johnny heads to the shed with a ladder in hand to climb on top and finish nailing down the roofing. You opt to help with this task, spotting from the ground and continuously yelling for him to ‘be careful’ and ‘you better not fall and break your neck while I’m watching’. It takes a little over an hour, and it’s late afternoon when he finishes, but when you climb the ladder yourself as he holds it steady from the ground to inspect his handiwork you have to say you’re impressed.

“You sure you never did construction work before? You’ve got shockingly good craftsmanship for a newbie.”

“My dad’s pretty self sufficient so he was always doing the handiwork around the house. Picked stuff up here and there from him growing up, but anything I didn’t know I could just look up on the internet.” You shoot him a pointed look. “What! I said your wifi was shitty not that I didn’t use it every now and again. There’s a YouTube tutorial for everything these days.”

Johnny insisted on cleaning up the last of the debris on his own while you worked on dinner— another pasta dish, orecchiette broccoli rabe, and while that was cooking you boil a pint of blackberries with water and sugar to make a flavored simple syrup. Since you were celebrating tonight, it only felt right to put in a little extra effort even to the drinks of choice. Kir Royales were typically made with a blackcurrant liquor, but it was a niche product you hadn’t found in the store, so the syrup and a slice of lemon for garnish would have to do.

While you waited for Johnny to finish up and take his shower (after the last time, you gave him plenty of space out of an abundance of caution whenever he showered), you started rummaging through the pantry cabinets and making sense of the dry ingredients you had on hand. You had time to kill, why not make a dessert with it?

You hadn’t talked about it much with Johnny, but you actually did enjoy cooking and baking. Something about spending time and energy making something and having someone consume it and tell you they liked made you feel good. You still remember the first time you made breakfast for a hungover Wendy in college and she raved about it for days, though you were pretty sure back then it was because the carbs soaked up the remaining alcohol in her system and stopped her from puking.

Dinner was finished when Johnny finally came out of the shower, this time fully clothed and his hair more dry. You explained that you’d gotten bored and made cookie dough but the oven hadn’t finished pre-heating yet so nothing was baked.

“Fuck it, cookie dough is always better than the cookies themselves,” he shrugged.

“But salmonella—”

Johnny held up a hand jokingly as he stopped your interjection and turned off the oven. “Still convinced that’s a myth parents made up to stop kids from actually enjoying childhood. Plus it’s hot as balls, chill the dough while we eat and then it’ll be even better after. Plus, you haven’t poisoned either of us yet, I think your track record is pretty good so far.” (There he went again, referring to you and him as an ‘us’.)

So you did just that, putting the cookie dough into the fridge and taking your dinner outside with the cocktails you’d made. You didn’t have any wine glasses here at the farm house— after breaking one stemmed glass during your first phone call with Wendy you’d moved the rest to the condo and replaced the drink ware with mason jars because the clean up was too annoying. Plus, you didn’t want to risk the dog stepping on stray shards of thin glass and getting them stuck in the pads of its paws. (You were still decidedly apathetic towards it, but that didn’t mean you were cruel).

So it was in the wide mouth Kerr jars that you poured your blackberry syrup and a half a bottle of champagne, after a comical exchange of Johnny insisting he wasn’t scared of the pop! that corks made coming out of pressurized bottles and the yelp he let out anyways when it happened as expected. The lemon slice garnish was more of an aesthetic touch than anything but you liked it nonetheless.When Johnny pulls out his phone for the second time that day and insists on playing music and making a dramatic toast before you could drink, you could only laugh and agree.

“To the best Boss I’ve ever had,” he said with a raised glass, “Even though you used me for cheap labor and to do all the hard shit.”

“Rude! I cook every day, look at all the chances I’ve had to poison you and how many times have I done it? Absolutely none because I am a saint and you know it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the music, the low hum of crickets, the starry night sky, or the summer heat that did it, but time flowed so easily, and so did the conversation and teasing banter. Over the course of one meal you’d exchanged more words with Johnny than you had in the whole two months you’d known each other. Two hours later and you’d finished all the dinner (of course there were no leftovers, Johnny was still Johnny, but the amount of manual labor he did in a day made sense of how much he usually ate, you’d come to realize). The bowl of cookie dough was now sitting on the step of the lanai and you and Johnny were side by side on the deck, looking out over the farm and taking the occasional spoonful of dough into your mouths. He was right— the dough did taste better than the baked cookies probably would have, especially after it had chilled for a bit. With the way the stars and moon were hung in the cloudless sky, you could see the soft glow of their reflection in the water beyond the highway and the cliff leading to the beach.

“You ever go down to the shore?” He asks suddenly, and it feels out of nowhere and like he��s inside your head because how else would he have known you were just thinking about the ocean? But then you register that Andrew McMahon’s voice has just crooned something about Venice Beach and the California summer in the music that had still been playing through the speakers of Johnny’s phone.

You hummed for a moment before answering. “Not really. I should make more time for it, but I rarely ever leave the farm, as you probably noticed. I know this place is paradise for so many people, the vacation destination on a lot of bucket lists, but I think my… circumstances made me bitter towards the island, conceptually speaking anyways.” You watched the water with a bit more focus as a few waves crested, but you couldn’t see enough of the shore to see them actually crash. “I know I don’t talk about it much but, I needed a break from my work too. That’s… part of the reason I’m here, why I was waiting for my sister and Yunho to come out. It’s a much less interesting story than yours, so I won’t bore you with the details,” you wanted to reroute the subject before any questions started getting asked, but deep down you knew Johnny wasn’t going to press you for anything you weren’t ready to share. He’d figured that much out about you anyways.

“Anyways, maybe you’re on to something, Seo. Maybe I should take some time to actually relax a bit, seeing as now that I’ve tricked you into finishing the most difficult and time consuming of the summer projects Yunho had planned,” you stuck your tongue out between your teeth jokingly in an effort to mask the vulnerability you’d briefly shown.

Johnny took the hint and changed the subject. “The Killers, Bleachers, Paramore, Fall Out Boy… not saying I don’t like your taste in music, but I’m surprised it’s your picks were so astoundingly pop-punk-rock. Woulda taken you for a—”

“If you finish that sentence by saying ‘country kinda girl’ I’m locking you out tonight and taking the cookie dough with me,” you warned.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, you strike me as too high strung to enjoy country. Like it’s typically too slow for your tastes, or something like that.”

“Oh I’m obnoxious about my taste in media, if you couldn’t already tell. I’ve listened to mostly the same artists for the last ten years. In high school I was that kid that thought making it known that I ‘didn’t listen to the radio pop main stream’ was a personality trait, whatever that meant.”

“Oooh, so edgy and mysterious, did she used to cut her own bangs too?” He giggled into his mason jar, taking another sip.

“Nooo, that was only one time and I swear it was on a dare and not because of a break up!” You jokingly wailed out, throwing your head back in exaggeration. “Although I do regularly trim Wendy’s bangs for her because she can’t be trusted with sharp objects. Knives, needles, scissors, none of it, girl’s a total klutz,” you took another sip and uncorked the bottle again to refill your jar. You held the remainder up for Johnny to see, silently asking if he wanted a top off to finish the last of the second bottle you’d opened.

Johnny was a big guy— tall and muscular, you were sure it would take him a bit more than a bottle or two of shared champagne to get him tipsy. That’s why you didn’t think too much of it as he stared into the reinvigorated fizzing bubbles as he quietly said, “I’d like to meet her someday. Wendy, I mean— you talk about her so fondly, she seems like a great person. Like she’s good for you in your life.”

Why did you feel a little uneasy at the way he spoke about Wendy? He had no idea what she looked like, it was only from the stories you’d been telling that he knew anything about her. And it wasn’t even the real her, it was just her as she existed to you, so what was there to be uneasy about? You were overthinking again, so you had to come up with an answer to fill the silence you’d created— “Yeah well, Wendy’s sick of dick, she’s very bisexual and I’m pretty sure she’s head over heels in love with this Joohyun she started seeing recently, she’s just too much of a chicken shit to tell her how she feels,” you hid behind you glass and drank deeply, not minding as the floating slice of alcohol soaked lemon rested against your nose.

“Sounds familiar,” Johnny said quietly. “I… can relate, I think,” he mumbled out, and you glanced over in time to see him place his now-empty cup on the wood beside him. “Sometimes you just feel the way you do and you don’t really have a reason for why, but you can’t even put it to words to the person it matters to.”

This time when your breath caught in your throat, it wasn’t because of a mounting attack, but in anticipation of what Johnny would do next. The space between you had slowly waned as you’d been drinking, your bodies inching closer to each other without you even realizing it, almost like the way the moon pulled the tide to the shore over and over again. When your eyes traveled from where his hand was pressed into the deck flooring up to meet his hooded gaze, you don’t really know what you were expecting, but Johnny’s parted lips shining slightly (probably from that last drink of wine) was not it.

You knew this feeling. This was when you were supposed to lean in, right? That’s how this usually went. Your hand shifted closer towards his for a moment and then pulled back, and the end joint of Johnny’s fingers flexed as he pressed his fingertips into the deck.

You didn’t lean in. Your heart was hammering in your chest far too loud for you to be able to do so; instead, you look away, his eye and his lips and his face and his everything suddenly too much, and your turned your cheek to him instead.

Instead, he leaned in, and for just a brief moment the crickets stopped chirping, the distant ocean stopped moving, the music stopped playing, and your heart stopped beating as Johnny’s perfectly pouty lips pressed against your cheek, and then your temple, and then your throat. And then his head tilted down and his nose brushed against your skin delicately, leaving a trial of burning in its wake, and time didn’t start turning again until the snort of his laughter broke the silence and he fell into your shoulder in a giggle fit.

It took all of your patience and self control to make your lungs continue to function as you listened to Johnny giggle so much he stopped making sounds until he was spewing out between fits of laughter ‘The bubbles make everything funny, why is everything funny with bubbles?’

‘Why indeed’, you wondered silently, letting the clearly tipsy Johnny rest his head on your shoulder as he continued his giggle fits, stroking the palm of your hand against his back as he’d first done for you under far different circumstances, trying to not think about how much faster your heart was beating while doing so, and how if your accelerated heart rate was from his proximity to you, you didn’t mind.

How long did you stay like that, in such a familiar embrace with Johnny? Long enough, it seemed, for the playlist on his phone to come to an end and for him to start dozing off while resting against you, his light snores the thing that finally made you disturb him so you could go back inside. It was late anyways, nearing midnight you said softly and you tried to wake him gently—

A surprisingly loud boom shook the sky followed by a burst of light and color. Immediately the dog inside woke up and started barking, and Johnny bolted upright, eyes darting around in search of the source of the noise that had disturbed his snoozing.

“Fireworks,” you breathed out, more to yourself than to him. “Guess it’s midnight already.” Johnny didn’t say much, but his eyes twinkled as he watched in earnest as a few more went off before you tugged on his sleeve and insisted that he needed to make his way to bed and sleep. There were sure to be more tomorrow, and he could watch them then.

You didn’t sleep for hours that night. After helping the mildly intoxicated Johnny to his bed, you sat on the floor of your room, knees pulled into your chest and a hand laying flat against your cheek where he’d planted his trail of kisses. “He was just drunk, he’s just a flirty drunk, that didn’t mean anything,” you repeated to yourself over and over again.

But something about the way Johnny’s lips felt against the apples of your cheek and the hollow of your throat when he’d been nuzzling against you stayed with you all night long, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a flame where your heart lived. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and inhaled deeply, breath shuddering on the exhale.

Against all your hopes and intensions, Johnny Seo had slowly chipped his way through your armor and into your heart.

You had to get him out. Fast.

tbc.

—

author’s note | Me: this first part is gonna be like, I dunno, 5k? 6k? Also me: writes 19,000 words. We call this ✨processing your own trauma through writing as an outlet✨ Originally this was going to be one really long one shot and then I decided to split it up for ratings purposes because I am a thirsty whore for Youngho. The ending is rushed but honestly I was so sick of editing and overthinking this lmaooo. No I have not spent a summer living in Kona working on a coffee farm. Most of my coffee knowledge is second hand from the time my brother in law bought a coffee farm and started a roasting business because my sister dared him to by saying “do it you won’t” (an exact quote I shit you not). There’s more to this story and uh I dunno I’ll maybe post it eventually if people don’t hate this one *shrugs*

#Johnny x Reader #Johnny Seo #Johnny Seo x Reader #Johnny Seo fanfic #NCT fanfic #NCT Fluff #NCT Angst #kinda lmao i dunno leave me alone #panic attack tw #mental health issues tw #anxiety tw #idk if i'm even happy with this or if I'm gonna go back and edit that last 5k i wrote tongiht w/e #shrugs this is fine #johnny: bitter brews #swamp witch writes

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princesskokichi · 4 years

Text

ns / fw alphabet for sub ! nagito

WOWO WOWOWOW THIS WAS SO EMBARRASSING TO WRITE AND I DON’T KNOW WHY ???

THIS IS FOR THAT ONE ANON THAT I EMBARRASSINGLY SAID I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THIS WAS !!

MY FACE IS SO RED PLS I SIGNED UP FOR THIS WHY CAN’T I HANDLE IT LKAJDLFJADF - mod kokichi

( icon found here )

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

WHEW !!

aftercare will be super important to him please please please PLEASE show him love and affection immediately or he will slip so far into a subdrop that it will be almost impossible to pick him back up. he needs it to function afterward during sex. he really likes for you to make sure his skin is taken well care of, especially any marks or such. but do not forget to call him cute names and thank him !! in return he will be putty in your hands.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

EVERYTHING ? ? ? ???

he loves everything about his partner !! there's not a part that he loves more than the other one, because to him you are his god/dess. he needs you to survive, every part of you, or he doesn't know what he'd do with himself

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

uhm, i think he really likes to cum inside of you

it's a primal need of his, really. but he's also into denial and stuff like that, so he's not against not getting release at all during the night. but he can't go a week without having to cum at some point

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he really REALLY wouldn't mind being your private pet for the rest of his life. he loves when your attention is all on him, and he would absolutely adore all of his attention being on solely you and your needs as long as he lives

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he wasn't experienced, but he wasn't inexperienced. like, he knew what he was doing, but he was kinda clumsy ?? you would have to teach him better over time

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

uhm,, i want to say doggy style with him on bottom, but i can also see him enjoying reverse cowgirl ( any gender partner, of course, this is just the name of the position ) and missionary, with him as the bottom

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's not goofy at all during the actual intimate part, but before anything starts if he's not that horny or needy he'll make a few light jokes. other than that, making you feel good is his top priority and is treated as such

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

the carpet does indeed match the drapes, but you rarely see it. he's usually well cleaned. he doesn't want anything getting in the way of pleasuring you, so he will undoubtedly shave / wax his hair off unless you state that you like hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's intimate but in his own way ?? like he will spend the entire time worshipping you and your body and doing nothing but praising you while you're fucking him silly. but it's by no means slow paced unless he really really needs slow sex

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he only jacks off once you give him explicit permission. if you have a rule that he can only masturbate if you watch, expect him to walk into the room with his dick in his hand just so you could watch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

bondage, choking, slapping, overstimulation, edging, denial, cumplay, worshipping, the god/servant dynamic

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

okay, let me say it like this. he PREFERS the bed. but if you want to get down at the table ? yes. in public ? yes. he will do anything for you anywhere, he has no shame about this.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

anything that will pleasure you i so worth it !! he just wants to make you feel good at all times, so he's so down to have sex whenever whenever.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there’s not much he won’t do for you, lets be real. no scat play or anything like that, gross. but do NOT insult him. please. it will hurt his feelings in a heartbeat. please only call him nice things. he'll call himself negative things like slut or whore, but the moment you do it it's all over. he'll start crying, for real.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he has a huuuuge lean towards giving you oral !! he just loves going down on you, because then he can kind of control how much pleasure he gives you, but also he kinda can't because he gets too into it and just starts going at it until you're literally shaking underneath him ( which is the best sight eveeer )

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he's usually so fast, but also hella sensual about it ??

like, he's fucking you with his entire soul behind his movements, you feel me ??

he wants to cum but he wants to love you more

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he uses quickies when he needs to be satisfied quickly before something important ?? but they almost always end up with him being hornier than before

most of the time, he'll just wait for the night to come around and then he can get freaky

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's so into experimenting. it's not likely that he'll bring up anthing, but the moment you suggest something, he's already in love with it. he wants to, that night. that second, even, depending on what it is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can last two or three rounds of actual intercourse when he's actually fucking you, but can last so many orgasms. especially when you force him to orgasm as much as he can ?? he'll be a good boy and cum so many times until he's sobbing and can't even choke out a " please " anymore

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he probably has a ton of toys for himself. he absolutely loves when he's done bad and you force him to pick one out, because he almost always picks the biggest one out so you can torture him until he's begging for you to stop

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he hates to tease you, but he LOVES you to tease him !!

he's such a good boy ?? oh my god, whatever his god/dess wants, his god/dess gets. that's all there is to that.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

oh he's lOUD loud. there's no shutting him up. he's whining and cry and whimpering it's,,, beautiful. he's so beautiful when he's making all kinds of noises.

even when he's not supposed to be loud he just can't help it. you're making him feel so good !! you have to actually gag him to make him even somewhat silent, but that doesn't keep everything from escaping

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he LOVES when you grab him by the face and spit in his face like that. he loves being handled roughly in general, to be honest

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

uhm this is a " hard " one for me,,,

he's probably either average or above average ?? i literally cannot tell

also idk why but i see him as uncircumcised, sorry people who don't like that

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high high high high HIGH

it's not that he wants sex, but he needs to fulfill your desires. he craves the attention it gives him, and the feeling of euphoria as he climaxes, even if you make him cum time and time again

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he won't fall asleep until after aftercare !! after that, it's only a matter of moments before he's out. you usually have to put him in the bed again or he'll fall asleep anywhere, even in the bath

#danganronpa #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #goodbye despair #danganronpa nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa imagines #imagines #2 goodbye despair #ns / fw alphabet #mod kokichi

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thatanimenerd101 · 4 years

Text

What Is His Name?

Hello everybody. To start off I am NOT CAUGHT UP WITH THE MANGA SO yeah. This little Drabble is actually based on a dream I had.

Paring: Hawks (Keigo Takami) x female reader.

Warnings: Mentions of depression (sort of) , self-doubt, drunk driving and mentions of baby. But most importantly FLUFF! Now if any of these topics trigger you, don’t read ahead. You can make your own choices and please if any topics stated above make you uncomfortable don’t read.

I’ve never written something this long before, but after this one. I will be taking a break from writing for a bit. I may write some stuff but I won’t post it. Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll still be on Tumblr, my ask box is still open, I would like to talk to my followers. But I don’t get much communication from you guys. I’d really like if my ask box would get something in it. But for now, I really want to thank the people who have helped me and given me ideas. I feel like I have a family on here. So, if you’d like to in my little tumblr family, all you have to do is comment. Well anyways on to the story.

Tag list: @queensynderella, @keigos-dove, @zyrielwolf

Thank you to all these three people, they are wonderful. Go follow them.

Word count: 2.1k

All art credit goes to Aoazura, I hope that’s spelled right. If not I’m sorry.

You and Hawks have been dating for almost a year, you had known him since you were 20. It has been two years since he saved your life. That day you were taking a stroll and while crossing the street a drunk driver came out of no where and almost killed you. Hawks had been flying by when he used one of his feathers to pull you back to the sidewalk, while one of his sidekicks with a strength quirk stopped the car. Still in shock you couldn’t stand, only his feather held you up.

“Are you okay miss?!” The sidekick ran to your side.

You however couldn’t speak.

“I’ll take this one, clean up here.” Hawks landed next to you and put an arm around your waist to hold you up, the feather that was holding you up was now floating in front of you.

“Yes sir!” The sidekick said.

Hawks picked you up bridal style and flew you to a rooftop. Once he landed, he set you down on the ground.

“That was quite an experience, are you alright miss?”

“I-I-I’m a little shaken up, but I’ll be okay. Thank you Hawks.” You bowed.

“It’s no problem, it’s kinda my job to save people. I am a hero after all.” He was flying a few feet in the air, looking down at the city.

You looked at your phone, and you were going to be late for work.

“H-Hawks?”

“Yes?”

“Can you fly me back down? I’m going to be late for work if I don’t catch the bus.” You showed him the time on your phone.

“Why take a bus? When I can just fly you there, where do you work?”

You had work at a nearby studio, a music one. Your quirk wasn’t related to music. Music was your hobby.

“I work at the studio downtown, the music one.” You smiled sheepishly.

“Oh?” He smirked. “You work with music?”

“Yeah, it’s really fun and interesting. There’s something new everyday. But are you sure you have time to fly me, you are on duty?”

He picked you up bridal style once more.

“Of course, I have time, I am the man that goes too fast after all.”

Before you could say anything, the both of you where in the sky. He wasn’t flying fast, but he slowly increased the pace he was flying at, so that your body wouldn’t go into shock.

That day was a year and six months ago. After the day he saved you, the two of you would hangout on a rooftop and just talk. He wouldn’t talk much, but he listened to you. But one day you asked him out to dinner at your place. Hawks had been gaining trust with you, but he still hadn’t told you his real name. He couldn’t risk anyone knowing his real name.

That night you cooked a chicken-based meal and you dressed up a bit. You didn’t mind waiting for him, he was a hero after all. You waited for an hour, you started to think he stood you up. I mean, he was really handsome and he could have anyone he wanted. Standing up from the table, the food was now cold. The wine in your glass was now gone. You took his glass that was still full and dumped it down the sink. You decided you would clean this up later, you sat down on the floor by your balcony and cried.

You didn’t know how long you cried for but your clothes were wet from drying the tears. You had liked him and tonight proved that he didn’t feel the same.

Well until you felt someone hugging you.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

You looked up and saw the man with wings staring at you. He wasn’t in his hero costume; he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

You sniffed. “G-Go away.” The tears were running down your face again. You tried to push him away but he held you.

“No, I won’t. I’m sorry that I’m late y/n, I had to do something before I came here. I would’ve texted you, but you know that there’s villains that hack into people’s phones. I can’t risk you getting hurt.” He picked you up and sat you down on the couch.

You had a little too much wine to drink so you were a sobbing mess.

“Okay, I forgive you Hawks. But I cooked dinner for us and now it’s all cold.” You huffed.

“Awe, don’t worry we can still have dinner, and I smell chicken.”

The two of you ate dinner after Hawks heated it up in the microwave. You didn’t drink any wine, besides, can’t fly and drink. That night he tugged you in bed and left a note on the fridge for you.

“I had fun, next week Thursday I’ll treat you to dinner. Food was great.”

Over the next few months, the two of you grown closer and closer. He still didn’t tell you his name and you respected that. The day he asked you to be his girlfriend was hilarious.

You were at work talking with a few of your male co-workers, laughing and telling jokes. Until your boss busted in the door.

“L/n you have a guest in your office for you.”

He decorated your office with roses and once you opened the door, he hugged you and asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Yes, Hawks I will be your girl.”

Everyone you worked with didn’t say anything to anyone about your relationship.

Tonight, was your one-year anniversary of dating. Sometimes you didn’t see him for weeks but you trusted him. All because of the charm he made you. It was some of his small feathers on a keychain. He told you that is you were ever in trouble; he would be by your side in a second. You would play with the feathers and if you were stressed it would help you calm down. Hawks had moved in with you, he said he liked your place better. It seemed like home. But something was bothering you again. After two years, he still hadn’t told you his real name. You had nicknames for each other, but he never told you his name. You had enough of it, you’d known him for two years and he still wouldn’t tell you. Every time you’d ask, he switched the topic. So, once he got home you were going to talk to him. Did he not love you anymore? Did he get bored of you? Was it your body? You began to doubt yourself. You never had sex with him, the two of you agreed to wait for a while. Sex was an open topic you tell talked about sometimes.

When he got home, he had a rose in his hand.

��Hey Dove I’m home!” He waited a minute for you to run to him and give him his usual hug and welcome home kiss. But you didn’t.

He found you in your shared bedroom, laying on the bed.

“Dove? Are you okay?” He sat down on the bed; his hero costume was on the floor.

You decided to let it out.

“No, I’m not okay.” You said while your voice cracked.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You know almost everything about me, but I barely know you. I don’t even know your name! I only knew you as Hawks! How am I supposed to marry someone if you don’t even know their name!”

Something snapped in him.

“Okay, I’ll tell you everything.” He told you about his past and how he was forced to become a hero.

He cried, the both of you cried together. It was sad of what he went threw, and his last.

“From now on y/n, call me Keigo. My real name is Keigo Takami. Don’t ever call me Hawks, unless we are in public around people.

“Yes, Keigo.”

He started to tear up again.

“Say my name again.”

“Keigo.” You smiled and he smiled. The biggest smile you’d ever seen.

“Keigo, Keigo, Keigo.” You said again and again.

“I love you y/n.”

“I love you too Keigo.”

That night the both of you decided to watch Netflix and he told you more about himself, his family. But this was the best night of the two of yours lives. You were cuddled up and kissing him on his face, lips and along his jawline.

“Y/n?”

“Yes Kei?”

“Now that I told you everything, there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

You looked up at him and waiting for him to continue.

“I’m taking off of work for a while, the commission said I needed to take time off, and they are sending me to a beach and I wanted you to come with me. It’s a vacation, and since I don’t think I’ll get something like this for a while, I want you to come with me.”

You smiled.

“Yes! I’d love to come with you! When do we leave?”

“Next week Monday, love.”

You kissed him and smiled.

“We should pack tomorrow, now it’s late and we both need sleep.” He carried you back to your shared bedroom.

He held you close and nuzzled your cheek; you nuzzled his neck. You feel asleep cuddling the man you loved.

It was your last day at the beach, the sun was setting. It was very romantic; you were standing on the shore letting the waves crash into your feet. Keigo’s hand intertwining with yours, he looked at you and smiled. He let go of your hand and got down on one knee and you gasped.

“I’ve known you for long time, but it feels like forever. I want to be able To spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have a family with you. I want you in my life forever y/n. So y/n m/n l/n will you marry me? I promise I’ll be the best husband I can be, for you.” He pulled out a ring from his pocket, it was beautiful. It had a Dimond in the middle with two red stones on each side of the diamond.

“Yes, Keigo I will marry you.”

He put the ring on your ring finger and he hugged you tightly. You were flying in the air. He was going to marry you some day. You would be his wife and he would be your husband.

Once the both of you landed, he kissed you again and again. You laughed and kissed him back each time. He was happy and so where you.

One year later.

Today was the big day, after many weeks of planning, shopping and getting everything ready. Today was the day of the wedding.

You walked down the aisle in your white gown. Keigo was trying not to cry, only family and friends were allowed to attend.

You both said your vows.

“I do.” You both said.

He kissed you, like he hasn’t seen you in years. Everyone cheered. You were finally together, forever.

After your honeymoon weeks went by, well until Keigo asked you a question.

“Hey, isn’t your period late? You haven’t asked for ice cream or anything in a while.”

You looked at your phone, you never really payed attention to your cycle.

You were 3 weeks late.

“Yeah, it’s late. But it’s probably with all the excitement that’s throwing off my clock. But if it doesn’t come tomorrow, I’ll call the doctor- “

“I’ll come with you.” He smiled.

“Well congratulations Mrs. Takami, your pregnant!” The nurse cheered and smiled. Since you went to your female doctor Keigo was waiting on the roof top for you.

“I’m going to be a mother?” You were in shock and very happy.

“Yes, you are about four weeks along. Now I am going to need to see in a week for a check-up, then after that every three to four weeks.”

All you could do was rest your hands on your stomach, you had a baby inside you.

When you told Keigo he almost cried.

#mha x reader #mha hawks #mha boys #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha hawks x reader

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ajoblotofjunk · 4 years

Text

I was going through my first outline for HFoG and wow that is some wild shit. It was so different! For fun I thought I’d share some of it so you can see where it veered dramatically off course.

The first couple of chapters are the same, the first differences really start in March.

March (Yr 1) - Two weeks later in mid-March is first race - Did you declare the oil?/Of course I did, gods, Jaime, I know what I'm doing. /I saw you studying the regs again.; pit stop argument, etc.; Early pit stop, Jaime thinks they're too slow, is watching the racers pacing him, zooms off a bit too soon and Brienne is FURIOUS with him for putting them in danger, they have a huge fight and it's the first time he backs off a little and apologizes. She says 'if you do it again, I'm done.' I promise I won't. 'There has to be trust, Lannister.' 'Jaime's shorter, you know. You'd save a whole syllable. Could be critical in the pit.' She rolls her eyes. 'Fine. Jaime.'; Brienne in response makes Jaime learn how to stop exactly where he needs to; she stands in front, knowing he'll hit her if she doesn't trust him. I'll be the front jack. He makes a comment and she's like “this is serious, Jaime.” He swallows and nods by her use of his name. “Okay then. Let's practice.” He's still wounded from his team betraying him, he doesn't trust them, but he trusts Brienne. (This is all between the preseason and first race)

(Ed. note:That thing about the syllables shows up in the wedding night sex as my own personal shoutout TO MYSELF because I always loved that line and it never made it into the fic in the end and I’m an enormous dork.)

May (Yr 1) – Bronn places dye in Jaime's gloves so when he shakes hands they're blue (but Jaime laughs, he's the happiest he's been in years, he's driving loose and confident and reckless but he's winning for now); Martyn's payment comes due & almost fucks up Brienne (he's on tire duty, he is slow on the pneumatic during a practice and asks for her help and she comes over and he releases it as she's going for it and it almost breaks her wrist. It's obvious he did it purposefully and the crew swarms him, Bronn goes to get Jaime, who comes back FURIOUS and fires him; Arya joins the crew (Willem cleans up his act)

(Ed. note: I forgot Arya was supposed to join in year one. Hah.)

June has most of what ended up being in July, and July has most of what ended up being in June. Then:

August (Yr 1) – Two weeks in he shows up, middle of a hot, lazy summer; they have a great time; he drives the F1, they grow closer

(Ed. note: No sexytimes at all on Tarth. No sexytimes at all until the second year, which is one of the best changes I made.)

September (Yr 1) – Wins a race, shirt off, spray w/champagne; they kiss first time before crash ('for good luck' he says; realized he felt like he always did at the start of a race day, blood pulsing with the need for action and the roar and vibration of the engine under him); BEFORE he loses his hand, he's about ready to have sex with her on top of the car but he's got his celibacy thing and he's like “after the race”) and then he crashes the next day so their first time takes awhile. (He's glad she didn't know what he was like with two hands, he's worried he couldn't compete with that Jaime.); crash happens at Griffin's Roost end of Sept. (he hit Red before that for talking shit about Brienne; does Vargo Hoat cause the crash (Martyn gave him secret access to the info & the building w/Connington's help - oh snap)); she's watching, he takes the corner too fast and then in the second between watching live and turning to the screen, his car is flipping. She sees his car and her brother's car superimposed on each other, when she'd snuck out to see it at the impound after.

(Ed. note: The original reason they don’t get together in the first year was because Jaime had a celibacy vow during the race season that he kept as sort of a ‘good luck’ thing, which I’m super glad I dropped. Not my finest plot device. 😂)

Oct (Yr 1)– Brienne convinces Selwyn to start a team and signs Jaime based on Brienne's belief in him; She ends up driving him fast to get that feeling back. But he's a complete disaster, drinks too much and makes a fool of himself, cruel as a defense mechanism, obsessed w/Brienne but doesn't want to bring her down

(Ed. note: This was a period of time where the Arctic Monkeys’ “Do You Wanna Know�� was influencing everything I was writing and I wanted him to be very sweaty and wrecked and this is also a thing I’m glad I dropped. Brynn and I actually talked about this a lot - whether Jaime being cruel to her after they’ve started getting together would be a dealbreaker; at one point he was so mean to her she just left for Tarth and that kickstarted him into wanting to get his act together, but a lot changed and so did that, thankfully)

Nov (Yr 1) – Brienne tells him the news after the World Championship when he's super down on himself and that she will be his race engineer and have Bronn as his chief mechanic because she blames herself for not paying attention (which she doesn't reveal until later); and Pod and Arya and most of the crew; she says no December break, you have to work for it. “Why?” he asks. He starts rehab. They start fixing up Selwyn's F1.

(Ed. note: Oh I forgot she surprised him with the news they were starting a racing team for him. Hah. Wow this version was SO DIFFERENT.)

Dec (Yr 1) – She surprises him by bringing in Arthur Dayne to motivate him; they get FIA to agree that he can have a modified steering wheel. Jaime has conversation with Selwyn – you have more money than you let on. 'I wanted Brienne to have a simple life.' 'Then why did you let her come with me?' 'Because you were the only one who didn't look at her like she was a freak.' Jaime is- OOF.

(Ed. note: I knew I wanted Arthur Dayne to show up, but he was playing a more active mentoring role in this version, and then once I really started getting into Jaime being left hanging alone with the ‘Kingslayer’ stuff, I was pissed at Arthur and realized it wasn’t okay for him to just show up. Heh. Also - that line is actually in the final version of HFoG, so some things do stay!)

Jan (Yr 2) – (they don't have NEARLY as much money as with Lannister Corp – look at this for ideas of how that will play out: https://us.motorsport.com/f1/news/tales-former-f1-chief-mechanic-952404/3045945/)

(Ed. Note: I did end up using a TON of the reading and research that I did throughout the story, even in the final version. Races were especially helpful for me to see the wild things that COULD happen - like Brienne coming in to pit with two flat tires. However, the Evenstar team having a much smaller budget never came in to play as much as I thought when I first started. There were some hints of it - their meager ‘cafe’ in the paddock, only having one wing at the end, not having all the extra parts teams normally would, but that article is actually pretty interesting for other ways the really shoestring budget teams have to cope. The LanCo LST was really helpful for me to get around the reality that having a car that can compete at the top level requires an absurd amount of money.)

Feb (Yr 2) - Oberyn Martell had won instead, his first championship ever, and he had not seemed happy when he took the trophy. Brienne had been touched when he'd dedicated it to Aerys and he'd had the trophy sent to Aerys' family; Rumor hinted they'd melted it down and sent that to Jaime Lannister with a note calling him 'Kingslayer,' but it seemed so medieval and cruel Brienne couldn't believe it.

(Ed. Note: Oh geeze I totally forgot about this subplot! There was a whole thing where the Targaryen’s HAD done that and Jaime held onto the trophy as sort of a self-flagellation and then he ends up throwing it away before he proposes to Brienne. Hah.)

Mar (Yr 2) – how he loses one race: https://www.dw.com/en/f1-sebastian-vettel-loses-his-cool-as-lewis-hamilton-wins-canadian-grand-prix/a-49120669

Apr (Yr 2) – he gets really frustrated and shoves all the tools off the table; “I'm not cleaning that up,” she said and walked out on him.

(Ed. note: Honestly a little sad I never kept this scene in some form. It could have been good.)

Jul (Yr 2) - (He puts the old-school lollipop sign in her hand. You tell me when you're ready.)

(Ed. note: this would have been ~symbolic~ because the lollipop signs were what the pit crew used to use to stop a driver in the pit lane and then released him back on the track, but it would have taken too much to explain and it never felt worth it.)

Aug (Yr 2) – She says he needs the rest; he wants to be with her; they have sex; she admits she's been reluctant she didn't want to curse him and he thought she just wasn't interested though he adored her. He says “you're the best luck I ever had.” They finally get together for good.

(Ed. note: I held onto that “best luck I ever had” line for far, far longer than it deserved. I mean it almost showed up in the actual proposal scene and luck had ceased to be a thematic thing between them.)

Oct (Yr 2) – He shows her the interview from their first week – this moment, and he paused right after her story, when he'd stared at her with what she recognized now as adoration; this, he said, is when I first fell in love with you. (That's how he tells her he loves her.); Bronn gets sick, she has to be Chief Mechanic again, she's terrified about Jaime crashing but she works a couple of races and everything is okay. Bronn comes back.

(Ed. note: So - this was going to be Brienne’s big emotional subplot in addition to the relationship. Her being Chief Mechanic again after she was his mechanic during his crash. That was why I ended up changing everything, because it wasn’t enough.)

Nov (Yr 2) – he wins the World Championship; they get fastest pit time record; they find each other in the crowd, Jaime pushing through the media scrum and other racers and everyone and he sees her tall and blonde and tears in her eyes and they find each other and hug and kiss and he doesn't care.

(Ed. note: He had been the more reticent one which was absurd. So many good changes from this version.)

January (again) - He retires to work with her and Selwyn on Tarth; they start a racing school with a focus on underprivileged and disabled kids, as well as girls; Brienne keeps getting calls to be a mechanic for another team (will she?? No, she loves being home mentoring girls interested in being mechanics)

(Ed. note: The karting school was there from the beginning!! But again I didn’t really understand Brienne in this initial outline, and I’m so glad I spent the time thinking more about her and what she wanted. I think the balance between them really worked to give the story so much more depth.)

#heart full of gasoline #my fic #writing life #behind the scenes #long text post #i really did forget HOW different this early version was #i'm glad i kept all these old notes

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revisionaryhistory · 3 years

Text

Three Days ~ 63

~*~Sebastian~*~

Sightseeing was not code for strip club. I have nothing against strip clubs. Having a new girlfriend and going to a strip club is a hard pass. We did go to a bar. I drank, but not enough to get drunk. I didn’t want to be hungover on a plane tomorrow. I also did not want to be dehydrated or tired. None fit with my plans.

I was up at the ass crack of dawn to make my flight. Part of the time was spent with the hotel's florist getting instructions and supplies to get my roses home with me. Sweet talking the flight attendant got them and my carry on an overhead bin of their own. I flew into the small airport near Beacon. The pain in the ass layover was more than made up for by the ease of customs and baggage claim.

My mom picked me up. The half-hour drive was filled with conversation, but it still felt like it took forever. Since I knew the key code to her CRV I threw my shit in the back and pulled the roses out of their travel box. I wrapped them in the white paper the florist gave me, stuck one side of the headband ears into my back pocket, and headed into the school. The office staff must have thought I was a delivery man because they buzzed me right in. One woman sat at the counter and another at a desk set back several feet. The one at the counter smiled, "Can I help you?"

I leaned onto one elbow, my flowers in the other arm. "I hope so. I'm here to see Emma Marcum." I whispered, "She doesn't know I’m coming." I returned to my normal voice. "Any way, you can direct me to her or take me without telling her?"

Desk lady spoke up, "Are you the boyfriend who sends flowers and cookies?"

Counter lady added, "Those were good cookies."

I smiled, "Oh good. I was hoping." I looked at the desk lady, "She liked the flowers?"

"You did good. They just got back from lunch. Emma went to her room." She pointed down the office hall. "Go out the door, turn left, and keep walking. She's the last room on the right. Her name's above the door."

I gave them my best smile. It was real. "Thank you." I headed down the hallway. "I'll send more cookies for just you two."

It had been a long time since I was in an elementary school. There was no work on the walls, but the backgrounds were still there. I looked in the rooms as I walked. Lots of little chairs on tables, carpeted areas, and bookshelves. I was excited to see Emma's room. A little nervous to see Emma. I hoped she liked surprises.

Right outside her room, I could hear music. I shoved the polka dot ears on my head and quietly walked just far enough in to find Emma. She had on black shorts, a Pearl Jam tour shirt, and her hair was hanging long down her back. I couldn’t wait to get my fingers there. Everywhere. “Cake by the Ocean" was playing and Emma was dancing and singing as she pulled laminated words off the wall. I crept a little closer, "You know this song is about sex on the beach, right?"

Emma spun around and her surprised smile lit up my world. It felt like I'd been hit in the chest with Thor's hammer. She held a hand, palm up, toward me, "And here you are."

"Were you trying to manifest a provider?" I’d be more than happy to provide any and all sex she needed.

"You're a lot more than that."

We closed the distance and I put the flowers on the nearest flat surface to get both hands on her. I don't know if it was the touch of her lips, her hand on my waist, or the one on the back of my neck, but I took another shot to the middle of my chest. When her hand moved up to my chest I covered it with mine. "You're beautiful." I smiled, shaking my head. "Fuck... I love you."

I hadn't expected that to happen.

Emma bit her lip, "Te iubesc, Sebasti-an."

To say we kissed would be an understatement. We melted into each other, a slow-motion wrapping around and holding on. Emma sighed against my mouth as our tongues touched. I pulled her in as close as possible, enjoying the feel of her in my arms, and her fingers back in my hair. I missed her touch. When we parted she ran her fingers over my beard and looked at me like I was the only person on earth.

Emma's eyes shifted to the flowers on the table, "Did you plan this?"

I blew a raspberry, "You know better. Those are the ones you sent. If I'd planned this it would have taken three days and you would have had to rescue me." She laughed with me. "But you did. When did you learn te iubesc?"

"After we hung up the morning I signed the NDA. Because I fell asleep on the plane to Atlanta before I could look it up."

I went to kiss her, stopping a breath away to say it again. "I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too."

While we kissed I heard a commotion behind us, like a group of fans coming down a hall. Then a chorus of "Ooops", "Oh shit.", and a lone "Fuck."

I back away from her mouth, "I don't think we're alone."

Emma smiled and turned her head to see them, "Longer than I expected."

A pretty blond at the front shrugged, "I tried to hold them back."

A redhead shoved her shoulder, "While leading the pack."

Emma unwrapped from around me and took my hand, "Come say hello."

The redhead gasped, "Fuck me."

I chuckled, "Elementary teachers cuss a lot more than I expected."

The four women spread out as they came closer. Emma started at the end with blonde, pointing with her free hand. "This is Mallory, Nia, Dawn, and Cindy." I shook their hands ending with the redhead, "Lunch crew, this is Sebastian."

Lunch crew tapped into a memory. I looked at Emma, "You sent me a picture of them with the cookies." She nodded. "Nice to meet you all. Glad you liked the cookies." I squeezed Emma’s hand. "Remind me to send some to the office ladies for letting me sneak back here.”

"You didn't know he was coming?" Nia looked from Emma to me.

Emma shook her head, moving a step closer and putting her free hand on my forearm. "He was supposed to be back tomorrow and I was going to him."

Looking at Emma I said, "I had Emily move tonight’s dinner to Sunday. That's why I left earlier." I looked at her friends and shrugged, "I wanted to surprise her." I let go of her hand to put my arm around her. I pulled her in and kissed her head. Not that I wasn't happy to meet her friends, but I'd just unexpectedly told her I loved her, and I was not done with the kissing. "How was lunch?"

They started telling me and talking to each other. Lunch with them would be full of laughter.

Dawn asked Emma, "You still playing tonight?"

I answered for her, "Part of why I came back early." I pointed at myself, "Head cheerleader and beer bitch." They laughed. “We do need to go shopping. All I have are work clothes. Is there a Target nearby?”

Emma nodded, “We can do that.” She looked around, “Where’s your suitcase? And how did you get here?”

“Threw my stuff in your CRV. I had my mother pick me up at the airport.” I rolled my eyes and looked at Cindy because she was the most star-struck, “Extra glamorous.”

Cindy smiled, “Life of an actor.”

Mallory reached out and touched Emma’s arm, “We’ve interrupted your reunion long enough. Pretty sure we won’t be the last.” She looked at me, “Word of a boyfriend in the building travels fast.”

“The nice office ladies outed me?”

Everyone nodded and headed out the door. Mallory was last and pulled the door closed behind her, “See you later tonight.” She gave Emma a thumbs up. No idea what that’s about.

I yelled, “Thank you,” as the door closed. I sighed, “She’s my favorite person.” I folded my arm in, bringing Emma against my chest, “Besides you.”

I laid my cheek on her head and savored the feel and smell of her. It had been a long since I’d been in love. Feels really good. It’s felt really good for weeks. Now it feels extra good. Like I want to explode good. Or pull her in to take up as little space as possible.

Emma’s hands let go of my back and I let her go. Her hands went to my face and she pulled me in for a kiss. A very long, slow, and deep kiss. I felt that kiss all over my body and everywhere inside. When she backed away I licked the taste of her from my lips. All I could do was stare at her. All I wanted to was look at her and say I love you over and over. Well, not all I want to do.

“You have a decision to make.”

“I do?”

She nodded, “I have to have the room packed before Friday. Do we stay and get part of it done now or power through tomorrow?”

“I’m a procrastinator. Option two. How far away is shopping?”

“Ten minutes. I like to get things done then relax.”

“Are you saying you want to stay here?”

Laughter filled the space between us, “Oh hell, no. Shop, go home for a couple of hours, then go play volleyball.”

“Sounds kinda boring. What are we going to do at home for a couple of hours?”

“Your laundry. Wash your new clothes before the game.”

“Have you met us?” She looked at me strangely. “We don’t have a good record of doing things, like laundry, when we see each other again.” I’m sure she understood what I meant. Our clothes don’t stay on long enough to do anything besides each other. That won’t be changing today.

Emma folded her arms around my neck, “Wouldn’t want to break our streak.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. I have tan lines to lick.” I pressed my lips into a tight line and shook my head. She kissed me again and I slid my hands down to her ass. I mumbled against her mouth, “The sooner we leave the sooner we get home.”

The speed with which she leaped away was alarming. “Let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Shit, I need my purse.”

“Flowers. A lot of trouble to get them here. They need water. Do you have a vase?”

“I do.” She opened a cabinet under the kid-sized sink and water fountain.

“Get a lot of flowers at work?” I hoped she could hear the humor in my question.

“Yep.” She pointed out the window. “First and fifth have a flower garden.”

While she filled the vase, I unwrapped the flowers. I showed her the little plastic thing filled with water attached to the bottom of each stem. “These had to be empty going through security. So I was in the men’s room pulling off the little rubber top, filling it with water, putting the little rubber top back on, then shoving the stem through the little opening.” I pulled one off while I talked and demonstrated shoving it back on.

She smiled, her tongue between her teeth, “Did you wear the ears on the plane too?”

“Oh shit!” I started laughing and patted the top of my head. “I forgot I put these on.” I pulled them off and looked at them. “Shit.” I opened my eyes wide then rubbed my hand across my face before letting out a groan. “I told you I loved you for the first time while wearing Minnie Mouse ears. Met your friends. And made out a little bit.” I closed my eyes, “This is so typically me.”

“Good thing I love typically you.” She stretched up and barely brushed her lips against mine. Then she yelled, “Mallory.”

The door opened, “Yep.”

I looked between them and started laughing, “How’d you know she was there? You’ve been guarding the door?”

“I got your back.” Mallory walked into the room, “What’s up?”

Emma picked her phone up off the desk, holding it out to Mallory, “Picture, please.” She took the ears from my hand and put them back on my head.

I started to protest, but quickly realized I wanted a picture of this moment too. I moved in behind her, wrapping my arm across her chest. Emma grabbed my arm and turned to smile at me before we looked at Mallory. She took the picture and walked to us to give Emma back her phone. She looked at me with a smile, “It’s ridiculous how cute you are.”

Emma hugged her, “Pick you up about five.”

We finished putting the roses in the vase, and since we were going shopping first, decided to leave them at school overnight. We’d take them home tomorrow. She gathered her purse and we headed out the door by her room, walking across the grass to the parking behind the other side of the building. It was like a U, with Emma’s room at one end.

Emma pointed to the other end of the U, “That’s Mallory’s room, where I’m moving.”

“Really is the same view from the other side.”

When we got close to the car she looked over, “You wanna drive.”

“Nope. I wanna look at you.” I opened her door and kissed her before closing it. I spoke while I buckled my seat belt, “You know I have to wear these ears to the game now.”

“Why?”

“So it looks like I meant to have them on.”

Emma backed out of her parking place and paused before putting the CRV in drive, “Are you really embarrassed?”

“Not at all.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Can I get your phone to look at the picture Mallory took?” She handed me her purse and I pulled her phone out of the side pocket. Mallory had been taking pictures the entire time she had Emma’s phone. The last one, with us looking at the camera was good, but a few pictures back was one when Emma turned to look at me. We both had the slightest smile like we had a secret no one else knew. Except anyone who saw the picture would know. The way we were looking at each was obvious. Mallory had caught a moment.

The ears made it perfect.

Target wasn’t far and I waited until we’d parked to show her the picture. “Check this out.”

Emma looked, her face instantly softening to a slight smile, “She’s my second favorite person today too.” She kissed me then her focus shifted up, “You going to wear them into Target?”

“Shit, I forgot they were there again.”

Target wasn’t my go-to clothier, but for some shorts, t-shirts, a pair of swim trunks, and some flip flops we were good. I tossed things into a cart. “Mom wants us to come over. Lay by the pool and have a barbeque.” I looked at her, “By the way, you are much more tan and much more blonde than last time I saw you.”

“Thank you?”

“Definitely.” I raised my eyebrows and smirked, nodding my head. “Tan lines.”

“I want to take something to your mom’s. Food for the barbeque.”

“Potato salad.” I started salivating at the thought. That was delicious.

“That’s what you want. What would your mom like?”

I pulled my shoulders up and spoke in a high voice, “Something lemon?”

“Lemon cupcakes or a lemon berry cake?”

My eyes lit up, “Cupcakes. Much more barbeque than a cake cake. Plus they’re fun.” She nodded and we headed toward the food aisles. “You’re gonna make me some potato salad too, right?”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #sebastian stan X ofc #marvel actor fanfiction

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neon-mooni · 4 years

Text

In Which Trip doesn’t care about his friend

FACADE STAGEPLAY Mon May 18 08 31 35 2020

TRIP Where are the new wine glasses?

GRACE What for?

TRIP That should be obvious!

(Lisa knocks on the front door.)

GRACE Oh God, Trip, don't -- (interrupted)

TRIP Oh, she's here!

GRACE What?! You said she's coming an hour from now!

TRIP No, she's right on time!

GRACE Trip...!

(Trip opens the front door.)

TRIP Lisa!!

TRIP Ah I'm so happy you could make it! We haven't seen you in so long, how's it going? -- (interrupted)

LISA HELP I'M BEING KIDNAPPED!

TRIP Uh...

TRIP Well come on in...

TRIP Uh, let me go get Grace...

TRIP (unintelligable arguing)

(LISA knocks on the front door.)

(LISA closes the front door.)

TRIP (unintelligable arguing)

LISA HEEEEEEEY

GRACE Lisa,

GRACE Hi! How are you? God it's been a while!

TRIP Yeah, it's been too long. -- (interrupted)

LISA Scared

GRACE Uh...

GRACE Well, come in, make yourself at home...

(LISA sits on the couch.)

TRIP Oh, Lisa, take a look at this photo I just put up from our trip to Italy a couple of weeks ago...

GRACE (little sigh)

(LISA gets up from the couch.)

TRIP Lisa, Come here, I want you to look at this!

GRACE (little sigh) -- (interrupted)

GRACE Lisa, come over here and sit on the couch with me.

TRIP No, hold on. Now, -- (interrupted)

GRACE Trip, darling, your obsession with that photo of yours is making our friend uncomfortable.

(LISA sits on the couch.)

TRIP (little sigh)

TRIP Heh heh, Lisa, seeing you brings back good memories, you know?

GRACE Yes, it does. H-mmm (happy smile sound)

LISA Yeah

TRIP Yeah, uh, we -- we've -- uh, we've missed you.

TRIP Hey, I just realized something.

GRACE What... -- (interrupted)

TRIP We have to celebrate! Tonight's a special night!

GRACE What do you mean?

LISA Do either of you own a gun?

TRIP Uh, well, remember how you introduced us almost exactly ten years ago tonight?

LISA Yeah

TRIP So, ten years ago... that's when you introduced us, right?

LISA YES

TRIP We really want to thank you for years and years of...

GRACE Pain.

TRIP Heh heh heh... Agony.

LISA DO EITHER OF YOU OWN A GUN

TRIP Uh -- I - I mean, uh, it's, uh -- it's great you could be here tonight.

GRACE Huh, I think I forgot how well you two get along...

TRIP (little sigh)

TRIP Ah, Lisa, you probably didn't come here to hear this, heh...

GRACE What?

LISA DO EITHER OF YOU OWN A GUN

GRACE What...?

GRACE Trip, there's nothing wrong with disagreeing in front of our friend --

TRIP Disagreeing?! We're NOT disagreeing.

LISA GUN do you have one

TRIP W -- wait, wait, b - but, no no, w - we're -- we're not disagreeing.

GRACE You know, ever since we got married, Trip is forever trying to get me to buy new furniture, and redecorate, -- (interrupted)

LISA I NEED A GUN

GRACE Oh, um, well... I want to ask you...

GRACE But, Lisa, you have to look at this room, and admit it looks terrible.

TRIP Grace --

GRACE I mean, look around, this room is... it's hideous!

LISA I DON'T CARE!

TRIP Ah, yeah, Lisa, I knew you'd like it.

TRIP See Grace you don't realize how good this all looks -- and, and how good you look!

(LISA gets up from the couch.)

GRACE (annoyed sigh) -- (interrupted)

LISA For fuck's sake!!!!

TRIP Ha ha ha! Oh I think we're going to need some drinks first if we're going to talk about sex.

GRACE Trip, better to understand little than to misunderstand a lot.

TRIP (clears throat)

GRACE (little sigh) So I just had to have this couch...

GRACE but, dammit, it's wrong, it's all wrong, I should have chosen -- (interrupted)

LISA Do you own a gun or not?

TRIP Well, you have to appreciate how after a full day's work designing magazine ads, Grace can find the time to redecorate --

GRACE I want to throw it all out, get rid of everything, and throw paint all over the walls... -- (interrupted)

LISA Do you own a gun?!

GRACE Uh, well, this couch is just awful, isn't it?

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

LISA Yes now do you own a gun

GRACE Ah, what a nice surprise, an honest answer!

TRIP Lisa, Wait! Grace, I don't know where you're getting this --

GRACE You know, Trip, do you realize that if you hadn't convinced me to go into advertising,

GRACE I could have painted that painting on the wall instead of buying it! -- (interrupted)

TRIP (short petulant -- (interrupted)

LISA STOP

GRACE No -- see -- I could have painted that painting instead of buying it!

GRACE Anyhow, Lisa, thank you for your honest opinion.

GRACE Okay, well, I was worried there for a bit you were on Trip's side tonight, ha ha.

LISA Do you have gun

TRIP Oh no, -- (interrupted)

TRIP Uhh, let's not talk about the damn decorating anymore...

TRIP So... drinks...

GRACE Trip thinks he's at his classiest when he's on the serving end of a swizzle stick. -- (interrupted)

LISA I NEED A GUN DAMN IT

TRIP W - wait, I want to make you one of my drink inventions!

GRACE It's a secret -- Trip doesn't even like the taste of alcohol.

TRIP What?! So, uhh,

TRIP Lisa, how -- how does that sound?

LISA A GUY IS GOING TO COME IN

TRIP You -- you don't want my invention?

GRACE Lisa, Trip's getting a little carried away... maybe you just want some juice, or a mineral water?

LISA HERE AND KILL ME!!!!

TRIP Yeah, no, I'm going to make this drink for us!

TRIP Our friend is here, we're going to enjoy ourselves, that's all there is to it!

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

TRIP Grace, everybody loves my drinks, you know that, don't you? Everybody!

LISA HOW DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND

GRACE Well, of course Trip, after all, you got enough practice when you were a real bartender.

TRIP What?

GRACE In college, you were a bartender.

LISA ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING

TRIP How do you know about that?

GRACE Oh I know you were trying to keep it a big secret, but... one time my friends and I went slumming off-campus to some crappy bar in the sticks, and we saw you there.

LISA HELLO

TRIP Oh, that's great.

TRIP Uhh, you're driving me insane!

LISA STOP TALKING

TRIP Goddamn slumming it off campus... -- (interrupted)

TRIP Are -- what, w - what are you saying me, what?

TRIP You hide things from me! You're so distant! You...

TRIP You do, you hide things from me! -- (interrupted)

LISA STOP

TRIP Yeah, okay, okay, again with that, yeah, okay...

GRACE (impatient sigh) Lisa, I...

LISA JUST STOP

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

TRIP Your... goddamn decorating...

TRIP You're never satisfied with anything! You're never happy, never ever satisfied with anything.

GRACE Oh, my God...!

LISA I'M GOING TO GET KILLED

TRIP Alright, you know what, Lisa,

TRIP I need to ask you something.

GRACE Trip --

TRIP Grace, let me ask our guest a question.

LISA THERE IS A MURDERER

TRIP Lisa, yes or no...

TRIP Isn't marriage supposed to be the most important thing in your life? -- (interrupted)

LISA YES

GRACE What...?!

GRACE Oh, okay... fine...

GRACE There's no passion in our marriage, Trip, no... beauty... no anything! It's completely and utterly devoid of everything!

TRIP Oh, Jesus...!

LISA NOW CAN YOU GET ME A GUN

TRIP Uhh! Yeah, go on, go away!

TRIP I can't stand frigging looking at you!

TRIP What the... goddammit!

LISA CAN YOU SHUT UP AND GET ME

TRIP uhh!

TRIP No, don't -- don't come over here, alright?

GRACE What, I can't hear you, are you talking to me? -- (interrupted)

LISA A DAMN GUN?!

TRIP No!

TRIP Lisa, this is not normal, this has never happened.

TRIP uhh...

LISA THERE IS A SERIAL KILLER

GRACE Lisa, from what you said before, about passion... I think that tells us something about Trip.

LISA LOSE IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD

TRIP Oh ho, so we're talking about me, are we?

GRACE What?

GRACE Damn it, Trip, you and my parents are always planning these stupid trips I have to go on..

TRIP They're vacations! Expensive ones at that! -- (interrupted)

LISA AND HE IS GOING TO KILL US!!!!

GRACE Ah!

TRIP What?! Where did that come from? You're not making sense!

GRACE Look, why don't we talk about us, our relationship.

GRACE Trip, you just pretend to like all this stuff... fancy cigars, and fine wine...

LISA I DON'T WANT TO DIE TRIP!

TRIP You think -- (interrupted)

GRACE No?

TRIP Yeah, I -- I have good taste...! I know about... mmm... wines... and stuff!

GRACE Ugh.

LISA SHUT UP ABOUT THE WINE

TRIP You know what, Lisa, that's it, you need to leave.

TRIP There's only so much you can expect to put up with, you know?

LISA FUCK YOU TRIP

(Trip opens the front door.)

TRIP We'll be fine -- you should just go.

(Trip closes the front door.) (Gunshots)

#facade game

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regular-nessian-trash · 4 years

Text

It’s Vegas, Baby - Chapter II

Summary: Nesta goes out to the store and so does Cassian. Classic Nesta, she thinks he’s stalking her. Trust me it’s more interesting than it sounds lol(I hope)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I'm back on my grind yall *sunglasses emoji*

Nicknames:

Feyby- Feyre(its supposed to be like feyre and baby put together cause shes the baby of the family)

Nestella- Nesta(its supposed to be nesta and nutella. u will learn more later;)

Tiny Ancient One- Amren(kinda self explanatory)

Mor Boobiez Plz- Mor(idk i just thought it was funny lol)

"I'm home!" Nesta calls out to Feyre. She can smell pizza and instantly strides towards the kitchen, where she finds Feyre with a large cheese pizza still in the box, half-eaten.

"Finally! I was beginning to wonder if you and Cassian finally acknowledged the sexual tension between yourselves and fucked."

"Feyre! That is not appropriate to say at all! Cassian and I are barely colleagues, we will never be anything so stop with your meddling!" Nesta replied, trying to will down a bright red blush. Feyre and her boyfriend, Rhys, had this insane idea that she and Cassian were made for each other, it didn't help that Cassian was constantly flirting with her either.

"We're back!" Mor and Amren had just gotten home from some party, with Mor holding Duchess, their shared Chinese Crested Dog. When the four of them bought a penthouse together Feyre and Mor wanted a dog, and Nesta and Amren didn't. After begging and pleading with her sister and friend to please give him away after they adopted him they finally decided to just lock her, Amren, and Duchess in a room together. They all became friends, and they found out that Duchess was, in fact, a boy. They had been calling him Duchess for too long, though, so when they called him Duke he wouldn't reply so the name just stuck. When the rest of their inner circle found out-"the rest" being Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys- they didn't stop teasing them for days. In their defense, he had a very small you-know-what and he was a very ladylike boy.

"Bring my baby boy to me! Oh I wove you so much you wittle cutie pie!" Feyre was letting Duchess lick her face, making Nesta gag. Sure she loved the dog, but seriously, he licks his butt.

"Ugh, Mor, your cousin is working me to the bone! And he won't stop trying to push me and Cassian together! He thinks he can push us together just cause we “have hella sexual tension”! Also, I was thinking about this last night, Rhys is dating Feyre and if I'm Feyres sister and he's Cassians brother, that's literally incest!"

"You know they aren't actually brothers, right? They're just best friends." Mor replied, trying not to laugh at Nesta's flustered expression. She put down Duchess and reached for a slice of pizza. Everyone knew that it was just a matter of time before Nesta and Cassian got together. Nesta and Mor were the only single people in the house, not including Duchess. And Mor was just recently dumped so she was in a big love life meddling mood. Amren was dating some guy named Varian, and Feyre... Well, let's just say that it's a miracle that she's here right now and not out getting nailed by Rhys.

"I know that, but still. They refer to themselves as brothers."

"So you're saying that if they didn't call themselves brothers you would have sex with Cassian! I knew it!"

"No, Feyre, I am not saying that! Besides, he flirts with everyone so even if I was into him- which I am not - we probably wouldn't become a thing."

"Keyword being probably." Mor says with a smirk.

"Enough of all this bickering, I'm hungry and bored so someone turn on the T.V. while I make some popcorn." Amren quickly breaks them up before Nesta tears off someone's head.

~~~~~

Cassian pulled up at the townhouse he shared with his brothers. All the lights were turned off which meant that Az was sleeping, or not home. The former was more likely because Az usually got pizza on his rest nights and there were three cold slices of meat lovers pizza left. Cassian was so hungry, he ended up eating them cold. He fought back a moan at how delicious the pizza was. He would never understand how Nesta was able to be a vegetarian. Shit. He had been such a dick to Nesta earlier. She was genuinely concerned about him and he had just pushed her away.

Cassian pulled out his phone and checked instagram. Mor had posted a photo of her and Amren with their dog, Duchess, at a party. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry at the fact that a misgendered dog had a better social life than he did.

~~~~~

“Ugh, Feyre, Tomas and his little gang showed up at work last night.” Nesta and Feyre were chilling in the kitchen, the latter making a breakfast spread that would put Disney Channel moms to shame. Amren and Mor were nursing killer hangovers, so Feyre made sure to bang around a ton in the kitchen.

“Again? A-fucking-gain? Nuthin new, nuthin changed? Same old shit. Same old fuckin shit.” Feyre replied, forgetting that Nesta had no idea what that reference meant.

“I told them to leave and that I almost had the money to pay them back, but Tomas just slapped my ass and said ‘sEe YoU oN yOuR nExT sHiFt’ then he got up and left.”

“You do realize that we could end all of this by just telling Rhys? I know you have this whole thing about your pride and shit, but we could tell Rhys and he could pay off all your debts to him.”

“Feyre, I appreciate it, but I need to fight my own battles. I got myself into this mess, so I sure as hell can get myself out of it. Plus, I don’t like the idea of feeling like I owe my current employer money.”

“Nesta, sweetie, I love you… BUT YOU NEED TO PUT YOUR DAMN PRIDE TO THE SIDE FOR LIKE, TWO SECONDS AND ACCEPT HELP!”

“FEYRE-”

“Okay, can we yell about Nesta's issues at some time other than 6am? Also, is that bacon I smell?” Mor walked in holding her head and wearing one of Nesta's sweatshirts with some leggings.

“Yes, fattie. And it’s like, 10:30.” Feyre slapped Mor's hand away from a stack of pancakes cooling on the countertop.

“And I do not have any issues, Mor. I’m not the one that went partying with a dog last night.”

“Nesta, that is exactly the reason why you have issues. If you went partying with Duchess, maybe you would loosen up a bit. God knows you need it.”

“Brat.” Nesta threw a piece of toast at Mor's head.

“Thanks! Hey, Feyre, pass the butter.” Feyre slid the butter across the counter and cursed loudly when it just slid on the floor at Mor's feet. Facedown.

“Really, Feyre?” Nesta said in an exasperated tone.

“I’m sorry! I thought she would catch it!”

“That was our last stick of butter, you absolute dingbat!” Nesta sighed and picked up the keys to her car.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, ever the worried friend thinking she had caused a family feud.

“To the store. We need more milk and eggs anyways. Tell me if you guys are gonna go out while I’m gone.” Nesta walked out the door of their spacious apartment and made her way over to the elevator, pressing the ground level button. She stormed over to her car, got in, and slammed the door shut. On her way to the store, she noticed that one of the local book stores was having a sale. She tried to ignore the voice in her head telling her that she had piles of unread books in her room, and all over the other communal areas of the apartment. She would just pop in after picking up the groceries. No big deal. She could restrain herself. Maybe.

~~~~

Cassian woke up and made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen at 10am.

Hey sorry don’t be mad but here’s the shopping list. I had to go out.

~Azriel

“Unbelievable.” Cassian sighed and picked up the piece of paper attached to Azriel's little note and crumpled it up. Then he uncrumpled it because he remembered he needed to see what it said. Cassian walked up to his room and threw on a sweatshirt, some slip-on vans, and grabbed his keys. He couldn’t remember why they decided to share groceries. He wanted to in the beginning, but now that he woke up without any food in the house because his brothers had eaten all of it he was thinking or re-evaluating that decision. Cassian slid into his car and made his way to the store.

~~~~

When Nesta pulled up at the store she checked her phone and saw that Feyre had sent her a text while she was driving.

Feyby*: heyyyyyyyyy nes can you pleeeeeeeeeease get me some chocolate while you’re out :)?

Nestella*: k. anything else? im walking in now by the way

Feyby: nope! thank you love you! :)

Nestella: love you too

Nesta made her way towards the dairy aisle and picked up some 2% milk, a pack of four sticks of butter, and eggs. She quickly walked over to the candy aisle and began studying all her options, she took candy selecting very seriously.

“Nes?”

~~~~

Cassian walked into the store and quickly picked up all the stuff on the list. Once he got to the last few items written he realized he wanted ice-cream for a movie night with the boys. He walked over to the dairy aisle and picked up a tub of cookies n’ cream right when Nesta Archeron stormed past him towards the candy aisle. He followed her because, well, he wanted to talk to her. But he needed to act like he wasn't stalking her cause she might yell at him.

“Nes?”

“Mother Above, Cassian! You scared the shit out of me don’t you dare do that ever again!”

Oh well.

“How did you not hear me coming? Are you really that focused on chocolate?”

“I’m selecting some chocolate for Feyre, and she is very picky so I was focused on reading what the ingredients were in each bar.” She seemed to have recovered from the scare because she just grabbed a random chocolate bar and stormed past him.

“Obviously you don’t care that much if you’re willing to just grab a random bar and walk away!” Cassian yelled at Nesta. Some other shoppers began to stare at him so he quickly said “Don’t worry, we work together. I know her, I’m not some random creep haha.” That just got him more strange looks though so he just made his way towards self-checkout and paid for the items and skirted outta there.

~~~~

Nesta was so embarrassed while walking away from Cassian. People were staring at her! Ugh, Cassian needs to learn to not yell in public places. She walked over to her car after checking out and loaded her groceries into the boot. She needed a black iced coffee stat. Nesta began the quick drive to one of the local coffee shops and once she arrived she quickly sent the girls a text letting them know where she was.

Nestella: hey bitches im getting coffee you hoes want anything

Feyby: i want a mocha frappe pleeease

Tiny Ancient One*: just get me a black americano girl

Mor Boobiez Plz*: i wanna iced coffee with whipped cream and caramel

Nestella: okay for everyone except Mor cause wtf that's not even an item on the menu

Mor Boobiez Plz: it is i swear! just ask them for it they did it when i asked!

Nestella: fine

“What can I get for you?” The guy working the register asked in a very monotone voice.

“One black iced coffee, one black americano, one mocha frappe, and one iced coffee with whipped cream and caramel sauce.”

“We don’t do that last one-” Nesta gave him a withering glare and he immediately changed his mind on what he was about to say.

“Those will be ready soon ma’am. Can I get a name for the order?”

“Nesta. Thank you.” Nesta walked over to the opposite side of the counter to wait while their coffee was being prepared.

“That was quite impressive the way you scared him into doing what you wanted him to, Sweetheart.”

“Cassian! Are you stalking me? Go away.”

“I’m not stalking you, I’m just here to get some coffee.” He smirked at her and picked up a latte that was set down beside him. He took a sip and looked Nesta up and down before smirking and saying “Hot.” he winked at her and left before she could yell at him. If he was being honest the coffee was actually the perfect temperature, but he just loved getting under Nesta Archerons skin.

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sinfulbrothers · 4 years

Text

You got the letter I sent you a few weeks back.

I have to admit I didn't expect you wouldn't receive it, I had a demon drop it off to wherever the hell you were staying at.

I imagine it's a crappy motel with shitty TV stations, ones we used to stay at all the time when we were kids.

Remember when dad would get angry every-time he came back to the motel room and see we were up sleeping? Remember that?

He'll he'd probably still yell at us for being such fuck ups.

You can ignore my texts and calls as much as you want Dean.

But we both know you have to come home sometime.

I'm getting tired of this cat and mouse routine.

I hunt you down, you run off to god knows where and then I'm stuck trying to find you again.

But I have a feeling I won't be the cat for long.

-Sammy W.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Three more calls and four texts, he still hasn't picked up," The youngest winchester glanced over at the male across the table. Castiel sat there hands resting on the table looking over pictures from different traffic lights, cameras and whatever else he could find. "The son of a bitch thinks this is some sort of game. Anything, Cas?" He raised an eyebrow at the used to be Angel.

The male shook his head, "It is just the same old stuff, Sam. No clue of where Dean would be hiding out. The only person that knows where Dean is hiding would be Crowley. And he and I aren't on the best of terms.." He made quotations around the word 'terms' and 'best'. He still really wasn't the best at English. "Maybe we should wait until there is a police report on a Chevy Impala. On baby."

Sam shifted in his seat frowning, "Dean is smart enough to not get caught doing something illegal in baby. If there was a police report it would be at some bar or store. Like the gas station that was robbed." He slid his laptop over to the male, "Check out some things while I go on a run. There isn't much you need to know about computers." He smiled softly sliding his phone into his pocket, heading out to his '65 mustang, light blue. A beautiful car. He jumped in and he was off to the nearest store.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A familiar '65 mustang pulled into the Save-A-Lot parking lot, he couldn't help but smirk. Seeing his big bulky dork of a brother climb out of the drivers seat. It was a wonder how he fit his big moose ass in there. The car was shorter than Sam was tall. He snorted sitting back in the drivers seat of the impala, hands on the steering wheel. "Here Sammy Sammy Sammy." He whispered whistling, pushing the drivers seat door open he climbed out. Cracking his knuckles following up behind his brother. Wrapping an arm around Sam's neck yanking him to the ground with inhuman strength.

"De--" Was all the young winchester got out before the lights went out for him. Dean lugged the tall male over to the impala, throwing him in the back seat among the other beer bottles and trash.

——————————————-

"Wakey, wakey, Sammy."

"You wanted your big bro back, well you got 'em."

"Sam."

"Sammy."

"SAMANTHA."

Sam's eyes shot open, his ears ringing, what the hell? A frown plastered on his lips as he tried to sit up, a force was holding him down. He heard it again, "Sammy." That was Dean's voice, what the hell was going on? Wasn't he supposed to be at the shopping center? "Aww look Sammy is confused again. How cute. Let's cut to the chase," The eldest winchester spoke up, his voice rough like a rocky road. He came walking out of the corner of the motel room swinging a baseball bat. Twirling it and throwing it in the air, only to catch it again. "You," He pointed the bat at Sam, poking his nose with it lightly. Sam pushed it away giving his demon brother a face.

"Need to stop looking for you. Yeah I caught the jiff." Sam stood up brushing his brown hair back out of his face.

Crack.

Dean swung the bat, smacking Sam right in the shin. For a second Dean swore the bat had snapped, then he realized it was Sam's shin. "Sit down." He growled at his younger sibling. Sam obeyed. "Obey like the good dog you are. Isn't that right, Sammy?" He chuckled, gripping the baseball bat tight. "You either stop looking for me or I'll put you down right where you stand, got that? I won't hesitate to tear your pretty little head off with my teeth. Bet it'll taste real good. Have some actual freedom from all this hell around ya, Sammy." He winked at his brother.

"But Dea--"

Crack.

"Fuck! Stop hitting me with the damn bat!" Sam cursed loudly attempting to take the thing from Dean, it was a lousy attempt but at least he tried to do something. "I'll fucking stop looking for you. Just tell me one thing...why are you doing this? These crimes? The killings."

"The killings? Those are all angels. All 14 of 'em. Of course we aren't counting the humans, right?" Sam didn't even recognize his brother behind that wolffish grin. His gaze dropped to the floor shuddering in major discomfort. "Crowley sent a few demons to try to take me out. Not even the king can contain this beast." Sam opened his mouth to speak, "Ahh except..you have a body behind your little adventure. The man you made sell his soul so you could find me. Naughty naughty sammy. Put him through that and he still gets killed, just sooner. Oh by the way...tell angel wings I said hi."

Dean swung the bat hard.

"Fucking Hell that's gonna leave a nice bruise."

———————————-

He awoke to a dog sniffing at his jeans and clawing at his jacket, attempting to locate anything edible on him. Or maybe it was getting ready to eat his face off. It didn't need to happen either way. Sam shoved the creature to the side earning a Yelp/Whimper from the creature as it bolted down the alleyway and out into the streets. An on coming car stated, 'Stupid animals! Should all be killed!' Speeding by the creature. People had no respect for these animals, or much of anything in that matter. He pushed up sitting up against the wall, yanking his phone out of his pocket, "Cas? Yea. I need a ride back to the bunker. Think I'm by the barber shop and the tattoo parlor east of the grocery store. Yep..it was Dean. No he didn't say anything about you. He did break my shin. Just..get here as soon as you can." He sighed shutting the phone tossing it across the alley way.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••>

"They have towed your car away," Was the first thing the used-to-be-Angel said to the male, helping him up to the car. "You will have to get it another time we need to get back to the bunker. There is something you need to see. It's important." Cas walked around the other side of the car jumping in the drivers seat, starting up the piece of crap he began driving off in the direction of home. But it wasn't home for Sam. Not without his brother. His brother was his home and would always be.

"So what's this thing and why is it so important?" He raised an eyebrow staring Castiel down.

The Angel sighed gripping the wheel loosely as he leaned back getting comfortable, "It's Dean. He was by the bunker while you were out. This was after I was told to look up things on the inter webs. The bunker door flew open and before I knew it I was on the floor. He took something from your room but I cannot figure out what." He sighed heavily, frowning immensely, "I was thinking it was some books...or maybe the tracker you had put on him.."

"The only thing in my room was papers and books, he would've had to taken some books. If not then..pictures? That wouldn't make any sense." He shook his head staring out the window, wincing. "We'll figure it out later. Right now I need to get my leg fixed up. Can't do anything on a broken bone."

"Alright. I will get the supplies while you stay put." Cas climbed out helping Sam down into the bunker, making sure he stayed sitting down before wandering off to gather some supplies.

Sam fiddled with the loose pieces of paper on the table, sliding them over the edge watching them float down to the floor. Something he would do as a kid, watch paper float down to the floor. It didn't sound fun and it wasn't. Sam chuckled remembering when Dean got angry when Sam would cover the motel room in paper. The crinkling noise always annoyed the shit out of Dean. He slid another paper across the wooden surface, catching it right before it fell.

'I sure enjoy your love letters, Sam. But has anyone told you you're not my type? Tall and lengthy isn't my thing. By the time you read this I'm sure I already broke one of your legs. Told you to leave me alone and then you're back here planning something again. As usual. For every time I catch glimpse of you I'll kill someone. Child, adult, elderly. I'll kill them. This is a warning. One slip up and someone is going ten feet under. Oh..I left a bit of a surprise under your pillow. Hope you enjoy it. It seems you need a girlfriend if you catch my drift little brother.'

He really didn't even want to know what Dean had left him under his pillow, probably some sex toy. He shuddered quickly shoving the paper into his pocket. "Find everything okay?" When Castiel nodded he smiled softly, sliding his pants leg up, hoisting his injured leg up onto the table. "I was thinking, maybe we can take a break for a bit. Let Dean cool off before we try to find him again. He seemed pretty pissed off. Sure the mark is the cause of that but Dean sort of always has his panties in a bunch."

The Angel simply nodded, "Okay." After that the room remained silent.

—————————————————

He had the right plan, all he needed was for Sam to take the bait. Hell he wished he would've stuck with killing people, been more fun and the police would've been involved. Sure they were a pain in the ass but still. He found it funny as hell to watch Sam struggle to get around the cops when they got suspicious of him asking "too" many questions. Whatever the hell that meant.

Dean brushed a hand through his ever so growing hair, sitting back in the bar stool. Sam had just found the the toy his older brother had left him. "Get a girlfriend," Dean scowled taking a long gulp of beer, spinning in his chair and sliding off. He pushed by a few customers walking out, climbing into his "baby" he drove off.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••>

Fool me once

Shame on you

Fool me twice

You're probably dead

He was correct about Sam, the man really was trying to locate him again like the crazed idiot he was. Damn. Dean threw the impala door open walking over to his brother gripping his shoulder tight, a faint crack starting. "Whatcha doing Sammy? Looking for me again? Did you not get my letter? Man I know I'm not good with the whole pen pals thing.." He sighed heavily cracking Sam upside the head, sending him stumbling into the side of the tow truck building. Sam felt a hand wrap around his throat, then black eyes meeting his. "You won't stop until I'm back, guessing that means I have to kill ya."

Sam's vision darkened as the grip on his throat tightened, then everything went black.

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mustangshelby04 · 5 years

Text

Boston Boy - Chapter 9

Chris made sure the drink carrier was steady before grabbing the bags of food with his other hand. He headed towards the main doorway and carefully opened the door. Kate was just passing by the doors on her way back to her office and spotted him. The smile that lit up her face made his world feel complete suddenly. She rushed over to open the door, setting the file she was holding down on the reception desk.

“Hi!” She took the drink carrier from him and he kissed her. “You really didn’t have to get us food.”

“I know, but I wanted to see the office. I was too tired to notice my surroundings this morning.” “The coffee didn’t help?” She led the way into the conference room.

“A little. But I went back to your place and crashed. I woke up just before you called. How do you look so rested?”

“Coffee. I’m normally a tea drinker, but Starbucks has kept me alive today. And it’s been kind of hectic, so I don’t have time to think about a nap. Being gone for a week, that paperwork really starts to pile up.”

“I’d get you an assistant, but the company says no.” Tasha said, walking into the room. “Is this him?”

“This is Chris.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Tasha shook his hand. “Kate is very picky about guys, so it’s awesome that she found someone.”

“Picky, huh?” Chris chuckled.

“Extremely. We’ve gone out a few times for drinks after work and she swats away guys that I thought would be great.”

Kate shrugged. “I’ve never thought my prince charming would stumble up to me reeking of alcohol.”

“See? Picky.” Tasha laughed and poked Kate in the arm.

“Hey, my pickiness paid off.” Kate wrapped an arm around Chris’ waist and he kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll say.”

“Did you see your prince charming knocking you down into dog shit?” Chris asked.

Kate laughed. “Not at all.”

Tasha pulled out one of the bowls of fries. “Oh! They’re still nice and hot.”

“Kate had a hot/cold bag in her trunk. It really works great.” Chris said, sitting down next to Kate. “I didn’t know which dipping sauce to get, so I got two of everything.”

“The garlic aioli is my favorite.” Kate said.

“Somehow I figured it would be.” He smiled brightly at her and handed over one of the small cups. “This place was such a hole in the wall that I missed it at first.”

“They’re small, but they have some of the best burgers.” “Kate introduced me to it last month.” Tasha said. “She’s not lying about how good the burgers are.”

“I’m looking forward to it. The place smelled amazing.” Chris’ phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Oh, I need to take this.”

“You can use my office.” Kate pointed across the hall to her office door. She watched him leave the room and shut the door behind him.

“He’s sexy.” Tasha said suddenly. “Very well built.”

“Do you even realize who he is?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Kate rolled her eyes as she pulled out her turkey burger. “How do you have a teenage daughter and are so clueless about pop culture?”

“Is he famous or something?”

“Ask your daughter who Chris Evans is and tell her you met him. Let me know if she makes it.”

Tasha laughed. “Ok.”

Chris came back into the room. “Sorry about that.” He sat down in his chair again.

“Everything ok?” Kate asked.

“Yeah. I’m glad they got back to me so fast.”

“Me too!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Can we eat now? I’m starving!”

“Yes!” Obviously he wasn’t going to say who it had been on the phone, so Kate decided to move on to another subject.

By the time they’d finished lunch, Tasha was completely smitten with Chris. She still had no idea that he was famous, but she now knew that he was an actor. As Kate walked Chris back out to her car, he said, “She’s pretty great.”

“Yeah. I’m lucky to have such a great boss.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“You’re going to love it. But I can’t give it to you right now.”

“Ok.”

“You’re getting off at…. Four, right?”

“Right.”

“Ok. So, I will be here promptly at four and you will get your surprise then.”

Kate chuckled at his boyish enthusiasm. “Ok.”

“Don’t be nervous. You’re going to love it.”

“If you say so.” She reached up and kissed him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” He pulled her to him and kissed her a little deeper. “I’ll see you at four.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

He kept his word. Kate walked out to find him leaning against the hood of her car looking like sex on a stick. She grinned like an idiot and shook her head. “I think I had a dream once that started exactly like this.”

“Yeah?” Chris asked, grinning back at her. “I think I had the same dream. Only you were on the car like it was a White Snake video.”

“I’m already starring in your dreams, huh?”

“This was before I met you, but I swear, the girl was you.”

“You’re getting sappy on me, Evans.”

“I’m being serious.”

She reached up and kissed him thoroughly. “Enjoy your surprise!” Tasha called from her car.

Chris and Kate waved at her before getting into Kate’s car with Chris behind the wheel. “So, I don’t have your surprise with me. I have to take you to it.”

“Ok.” Kate looked down at the outfit she was wearing. “Am I dressed appropriately?”

Chris appraised the black leather ankle boots, black leggings, and dark blue plaid, button up tunic top. She had the top four buttons undone and a lacy black camisole was peeking out and accenting her breasts. His eyes lingered there for a long moment. “I think so.”

“Eyes up here, soldier.” Chris laughed, but looked up into her eyes. “Are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

“Not until we get there.” He put the car in drive and drove out of the lot. Her GPS was already set to their destination, so without bringing up the address, she had no idea where they were going. It took them about thirty five minutes to get there with traffic, but she realized where they were before they even pulled into the parking lot.

“This is where I trained before I broke my knee.” She said.

“Is it?” Chris parked the car. “I just looked up ice skating rinks and this one came up.”

“There’s two in Richmond. The other one is smaller and their figure skating programs aren’t as good as this one.” She smiled brightly.

“The whole place is ours. Obviously there’s people inside running concessions and stuff, but I rented the place out for the evening.”

“The ice is ours?”

“Yup.”

“How did you do this with so little time?”

“Well, I actually started looking Saturday after we got here. It was while you were asleep. I emailed them yesterday and we went back and forth about what I would need and if I was actually who I said I was. They finally got back to me today with the final answer. That was the phone call I took at lunch. I came up here after and signed the contract and paid the money to rent it.”

“Chris….”

“This is for my entertainment, too. I want to see you skate in person. And I figured this would be a really good early birthday present.”

“It is a very good early birthday present. I have to warn you, though, it won’t be as awesome as the videos. I can’t skate like that anymore.”

“That’s ok. I just want to see you in your happy place.” He reached behind her and brought her skate bag to the front. She hadn’t even noticed it in the backseat. “I had them sharpen the blades for you earlier. I didn’t know if they needed it. My pair is waiting inside.” He got out and came around to her side, holding the door open for her.

She followed him inside, holding his hand. There was a bag with Chris’ skates sitting on a bench with two bottles of water. They changed into their skates and Kate took a moment to stretch and make sure the skates felt ok on her feet. He watched her intently, appreciating her body for a long moment. Even if he hadn’t known her background, he would’ve pegged her for an ex-athlete or dancer. Though her body was softer now than in the pictures and the home movies, the gracefulness and the flexibility were still evident. She broke his concentration when she reached into her purse and pulled out an elastic band for her hair and swept it quickly up into a ponytail.

When the doors opened to the rink, the music playing was a mix of 90s hits. She laughed and asked him to wait a minute so she could do a couple of practice laps to make sure she was steady. He ushered her onto the ice and then leaned against the boards to watch her. She was definitely steady on her feet. All hints of her klutziness were gone as she glided easily around the ice, executing a turn and skating backwards in front of him. She was picking up speed as she turned back around and then suddenly stopped, sending up a spray of ice.

“Ok. I think I’m good.” Kate said, coming back over to him.

“I’d say so.” He wasn’t unfamiliar with ice skates, but he definitely wasn’t as good as she was. He wobbled some on their first go around and wiped out on their second, but eventually she had him upright and at a good speed.

“Did you choose the music?”

“Yeah. They’ve got Sirius radio, so I asked them to put it on the 90s channel.” He laughed as he realized she was skating backwards in front of him and wasn’t even looking where she was going. “You’re showing me up.”

“Well, I do have a few more years of training than you.”

“True. How do you know when to turn before you hit the wall?”

Kate shrugged. “I watch the bend of the boards and the curve of the ice. It tells me when I’m getting too close.” She turned suddenly and skated a few feet over to the boards and stopped. “I failed at that once.” He joined her and she knelt down, pointing out a deep gouge in the hard plastic that made up the half wall around the ice. “This is where my skate caught and I destroyed my knee.”

“It was at this rink?”

“Yup. It happened so fast, the pain didn’t hit me right away. I thought I was fine and then I tried to stand up. It all hit me at once and I passed out from the pain. Woke up in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. Right up until that moment, I knew what I was going to do with my life. Now I kind of feel like a drifter. I have all these talents, but I don’t know what to do with them. I like my job, but it’s boring.”

“You don’t know what you want to do?”

Kate shook her head and began to skate again. “I love to take pictures, but would I love it if it was my job? The thing I relied on to bring money to my bank account?”

“I think you would. Yeah, there would be days where you question your decision, but in the end it’s what makes you happy.”

“Is that how you feel about your job? Do you ever question your decision to become an actor?”

“Sure I do. There are days when the hours are long and maybe a stunt is extra demanding and I just sit there asking myself ‘what am I doing’…. And I hate red carpets. Hate. The crowds, the never ending repetitive questions, the noise…. It’s all too much. My anxiety kicks in.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I grit my teeth and get through it as fast as possible. Sometimes I drink a few beers a little bit beforehand to loosen me up. It helps to have people I care about with me. That’s why you see me at those things with my family and some of my friends.” He followed her around the rink, watching her face as she thought about what he’d said. “What about figure skating?”

“What about it?” Kate turned suddenly and was skating at his side, looking up at him.

“Well, couldn’t you coach? Isn’t that what skaters do when they retire?”

“I don’t have enough experience to be a coach. I had only been a senior level skater for about two months when I broke my knee.”

“What about teaching kids? You’re great with them.”

She laughed. “I could maybe do that part time, but it wouldn’t pay the bills.”

“Maybe you’re too concerned with paying the bills.”

“Who’s going to pay them for me? My parents? I’m almost thirty years old.” She shook her head and stopped suddenly. It took him a moment to turn around and get back to her. “So, I have this thing about control. Controlling my emotions, controlling my surroundings to the best of my abilities, controlling the situations I find myself in…. I learned to walk on eggshells from an early age. I’ve been an unwilling party to out of control for a large chunk of my life…. I refuse to be a willing party to it. Paying my bills on time and saving money and knowing that I’ll be ok if anything bad happens…. That’s important to me.”

He nodded and took her hands. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t. I just needed you to know that.”

He gently took her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her deeply. “Kate, as long as you’re with me, I promise that nothing bad will happen. Don’t hesitate to ask me for help, ok? Any help.”

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank you.”

“Ok,” He released her and moved back slightly. “I want to see you do some cool shit out here.”

“I don’t know how much cool shit I can still do. I might bust my ass.”

“Then we’ll be even.” He gave her a bone melting grin and she couldn’t help but smile back.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“I’m going to gain so much weight being with you.” Chris joked.

“Well, we had a good workout.” Kate said.

“You had a good workout.”

“And my knee is still complaining. Glad I had my brace in the car.”

“This is incredible.” He took another bite of the pasta he’d ordered and closed his eyes in bliss. They were at this little hole in the wall place called Edo’s Squid. The entrance was a door on the side of a building that led up some stairs to what used to be a second floor apartment that had been converted. “How does someone even find this place?”

“Yelp. I searched for the top restaurants and decided to try them all.”

“Any of them let downs?”

“Not yet.” Kate’s cell phone started ringing and she sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. Take it if you need to.”

“It’s my friend Dalia.” She hit the green answer button. “Hey lady. What’s up? Oh, uh…. I don’t know. I mean…. I could, but I need to check with someone. Can you hold on a sec?” Kate moved the phone away from her ear and hit the mute button.

“What’s up?” Chris asked, curious.

“Dalia had a drop out in her show Friday night. She wants Kitty Monroe to fill in for the two numbers.”

His face lit up. “I get to see you do burlesque?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “If I say yes.”

“Please say yes! Please!”

Kate let out another sigh and shook her head, taking the phone off mute and putting it back to her ear. “Ok. I’ll send you the music later tonight. Do you have any requests? Ok. You’re welcome. I’ve got a plus one coming, is that ok? Great. I will see you Friday night.” She hung up and shook her head at Chris. “Oh my god.” Her hands moved up to cover her face and she groaned into them while Chris laughed. “You are way too giddy about this.”

“Because I get to see my girl on stage!” She looked up at his grinning face. He really was excited about it. “Don’t be nervous.”

She moved her hands from her face. “Hard not to be.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you! I have to perform in front of you!”

“Why is it me that makes you nervous and not perfect strangers who haven’t seen you naked?”

“Chris, I look up to you. You’re a great actor. I didn’t ever just like you for your looks or the fact that you’re Captain America. I respect your talent. I admire your ability to immerse yourself in a character. I’m in awe of your ability to make your characters come to life and be believable. I can see you winning Oscars someday. You would be winning them now if the Academy wasn’t so anti-superhero movie because Cap can be such a boring character, but you give him layers and he’s not just this goody-two-shoes. You make it believable that he does actually have a dark side. And don’t get me started on how great I thought you were in ‘Puncture’ and ‘Sunshine’. They’re highly underrated movies.”

“Wow.” Chris placed a hand over his heart, genuinely overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be nervous having to act in front of actors like Daniel Day-Lewis or Meryl Streep who I know you think of in the same way I think of you.”

“Well, yeah, I would be. They’re some of the greats.”

“That’s where I’m coming from. You don’t expect someone you’re a fan of to suddenly be in the audience watching your every move and judging your performance.”

“I’m not going to judge you, baby. I’m going to be watching and enjoying the show and secretly thinking of all the things I want to do to whatever body part you’re in the middle of revealing when I get you home.”

Kate’s face flushed bright pink. “Chris….”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “Kat, I won’t be judging you, I promise. I’ll be ten thousand percent supportive. I’ll be the loudest in the room. I might bring you flowers. I’ll definitely give you a standing ovation. Can I invite Scott to come down for the show?”

She sighed, laughing slightly to herself, and eyed him warily for a long moment. “I guess. You’ll need someone to keep you company while I’m getting ready for the show, anyway. Fuck I wanna throw up now.” She glared at her pasta. “I can’t finish this.”

“So we’ll get it to go.” He motioned to the waitress and asked her to bring them a couple of boxes. “Do you want to go home or is there something you’d like to do while we’re up this way?”

“Uh, I can’t think of anything to do this late in the evening.” She shrugged. “I’m not a big night life person.”

“Me either.”

“Says the guy who’s invited to all the parties.”

He chuckled. “You don’t see me out much when I’m not promoting something. I like to be at home with my friends and family.”

“Me too.”

The waitress came and boxed up their dinners. Kate paid the check and they headed out to her car. Richmond is a college city and they were in the middle of everything. Young adults bustled by, not paying much attention to anything but their cell phones. All the bars and little restaurants were packed with people enjoying themselves.

“Did you go to college here?” Chris asked, slipping his hand into hers.

“No. I went to William and Mary.”

“Isn’t that a tough school?”

“Yup. There’s this pathway on campus that has the graduation percentage of each class. It’s kind of depressing because most of them suck.”

“Wow. That’s one hell of a mind fuck! Right off the bat they’re like, ‘you’re pretty much fucked, but good luck anyway!’”

Kate laughed. “Yeah. They purposely get down on the freshman and make it harder on them. I read somewhere that freshman suicide is the highest on that campus. As someone who went there straight out of high school, those first two years were insanely hard. I almost quit a few times. I definitely spent a lot of time in my dorm sobbing my eyes out because it was too much.”

“Were your grades good?”

“Yeah. Well, in everything but math related stuff they were. Numbers and I don’t get along very well.” She looked around. “A lot of my friends went to this school. Some of them started out at Richard Bland for the first two years and then transferred here or to William and Mary. It was interesting making all those new friends at college and then my old friends suddenly showed up. It was weird.”

“Bad weird?”

“Um…. Sometimes.”

“Did you have that college experience with the drinking and the parties?”

She laughed. “A little. It just wasn’t for me, though. I hung around the theatre geeks and stayed in most of the time.” Her face turned a lovely shade of pink. “I watched a lot of your movies in college.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes. I was in the middle of one of those sob fests when I saw you in ‘Cellular.’ It made me stop crying and from that moment I was hooked on Chris Evans. I bought your movies as soon as I found them on DVD.”

He laughed and shook his head. “That’s embarrassing. Those early movies were so….”

“Early 2000s.” She finished for him. “I still liked them. There was just something about you….”

Chris turned her to face him and leaned down to kiss her suddenly. She melted into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. They reluctantly broke apart when people around them started whistling, clapping, and catcalling.

“Come on,” He said, pulling her towards the car. “I need to get you home.”

She laughed. “It’s not that late, Chris.”

“I’m not talking for sleep.”

“Oh.”

The ride back to her house was probably the quickest it had ever been. The air in the car was thick with their sexual tension and they had only allowed themselves to touch hands. As soon as the car was in park, both of them had their doors open and were meeting in front of the car. Chris lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as they kissed. He fumbled with the keys for a long moment, pressing her against the door, before finally getting it unlocked.

They tumbled inside and he kicked the door shut behind him. Clothes started flying as they made their way towards the bed. Unfortunately, Kate’s klutziness showed up and she tripped over her leggings, falling backwards onto her backside. It barely fazed Chris, he just followed her to the floor, yanking the offending leggings off and pressing his now bare chest to hers. He grabbed her wrists and held them above her as he kissed her fiercely.

With his free hand, he pushed her underwear aside and got his boxer briefs out of the way before pushing into her. She let out a squeak into his mouth, but then began to moan as he rocked in and out of her. Her legs wrapped around his thighs and urged him on. At some point in all the grunting and sweating, he realized they were on the floor. He released her wrists and got to his feet. She let out a groan of protest, but he pulled her to her feet and led her over to the bed.

Kate had different ideas, though, and pushed him away. He watched as she turned around and bent over the edge of the bed, taking her underwear off before sliding her arms up the comforter. He groaned at the sight as she looked back at him enticingly. Without a moment’s hesitation, he moved forward, took his underwear off, and slid into her from behind. She had to move up on tiptoe for him to get the best angle, but once they found their rhythm, she found herself quickly falling over the edge. A few moments later, Chris followed her. They both stayed still for a long time, panting and trying to bring their heart rates down.

“Nope.” Chris said suddenly.

“Nope?” Kate asked.

“I’m not even close to done with you.” He lifted her up and laid her on the bed, moving between her legs. His head dipped between her thighs and he began licking, biting, and sucking her still swollen nub. She arched up, hands clutching at the comforter around her. Incoherent mumbles spilled from her lips and then a growl escaped as he slid two fingers inside her, hooking them upwards.

He teased her and sent her over the edge two more times before he was ready for more himself. As she recovered from her fourth orgasm, he slid into her again. At this point, she was nothing but raw nerve endings. Every sensation was almost too much. He brought her legs up against his chest and leaned forward, penetrating deeper. It wasn’t long before they were both climaxing again.

When she discovered English again, Kate looked over at Chris. “You’re probably going to be the death of me.”

“Yeah?” Chris asked, breathing heavily. “Ditto.”

She chuckled. “At least we’ll die happy.”

Eventually they cleaned themselves up and moved under the covers. Chris pulled her back against his chest and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. The moonlight filtered in through the window and he watched it gleam off her hair. Her chest rose and fell, becoming more even as she drifted off to sleep. His hand found hers and he wove his fingers with hers as he placed it against her heart. “Kat, you are seriously the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

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