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yelena-bellova · 11 months

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Learning Curve

Plot: With the prospect of both a biography and a new team member, Y/n learns more about the modus operandi of AFC Richmond.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor innuendo, (16+)

A/N: This is really the last chapter before things start to get going, so hang tight through the filler, because we’re about to take off lol

—————

Though she spent very little time there, the KJPR office was somewhat of a safe haven for Y/n.

Working at Nelson Road Stadium had proven to bring a level of chaos Y/n wasn’t used to. When she’d make the drive across town for her weekly meetings with Keeley, she was assured the only focus would be work.

So when Y/n entered Keeley’s office and found her boss on the couch, holding two cups of coffee, she was a bit thrown.

“Hi!” Keeley greeted.

“Morning,” Y/n replied, shutting the door behind her, “What’s this?”

“I thought we could have breakfast,” Keeley smiled, holding up the cups, “I want to hear all about your first week.”

Y/n tried to hide her true feelings on the matter, knowing Keeley had all the right intentions. It wasn’t many bosses who cared so much about their employees.

“Okay,” Y/n conceded, setting her things on the far end of the couch and joining Keeley in the middle.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just got cream and sugar,” Keeley explained as she handed Y/n the takeaway cup, “I hope you’re good with dairy.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n chuckled, taking a sip of the drink, “It’s lovely.”

Keeley grinned victoriously. “So,” she kicked off her ridiculously high heels and tucked her feet under her, “How’s it going? Are you loving it?”

Love was a strong word in the case of Y/n’s feelings towards AFC Richmond. She liked Rebecca, she liked Higgins, she…could tolerate Ted. Coach Beard, whose lack of first name didn’t seem to bother anyone, and Roy Kent seemed decent. Some of the Greyhounds were more friendly than others. The work was something she was perfectly skilled at. But Y/n couldn’t say she was in love with any part of the job.

“It’s…” Y/n struggled to answer truthfully while staying grateful, “Definitely a unique place.”

“It’s a lot to get used to if you’ve never been in that world,” Keeley replied, picking up on the top notes of what Y/n was saying.

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded, relaxing a little, “That’s not to say that I’m not happy there. I just think it’s going to take a little while to adjust.”

Keeley took a long sip of her drink before speaking, “Well, if there’s one thing I learned being there, it’s that you’ve got to leave yourself open to new things. I mean, when I first met Rebecca, I was fucking terrified of her. Felt like I was gonna piss myself anytime she looked at me.”

Y/n scrunched her brows in confusion.

“But,” Keeley rested an arm on the back of the sofa, “Once I decided I wasn’t going to be intimidated by her anymore, we became best friends. Now I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“That’s wonderful,” Y/n smiled softly down at her coffee cup, trying to hold her tongue as much as she could, “For you guys, but…I can’t say that I’m looking for anything more from Richmond than a decent place to work.”

One look at Keeley’s face and it was clear nothing about that answer was computing. “Why?”

Y/n slowly shrugged as she searched for the proper answer. “I just…I don’t know, I just feel like there’s your personal life and your professional life and the two don’t really go together. That’s not to say it doesn’t work for some people,” she gestured towards Keeley with her cup, “It clearly did for you. Just…I don’t see that in the cards for me.”

Watching Y/n as she sipped her coffee, Keeley felt reminiscent of the very time she’d just described. She’d cracked Rebecca open, and this felt like another grand opportunity.

“Well,” Keeley smiled knowingly, “I think it’s worth investing time in the people you work with. Like us,” she reached forwards and tapped Y/n’s knee, “I want us to be friends.”

Y/n chuckled, feeling trapped between a very pink rock and an equally pink hard place.

“Even if it takes the whole season,” Keeley continued, narrowing her eyes, “And endless weekends sat in the owner’s box together…”

“This is getting into HR territory,” Y/n smirked.

“Shows what you know,” Keeley replied smugly, “We don’t have an HR department yet.”

Unable to stop herself, Y/n joined in with Keeley’s laughter.

“Now,” Keeley bent down and slipped her heels back on, “We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

Rising from the sofa, Y/n felt like she was going to get whiplash from how fast the atmosphere shifted from work to anything but.

—————————

Keeley and Y/n made the short drive to Nelson Road and went straight up to Rebecca’s office. Y/n had daily meetings with the Greyhound’s owner and Higgins, but Keeley only popped in once a week.

“Morning,” Keeley knocked on Rebecca’s door, but entered without asking.

“Good morning,” Rebecca said in a voice Y/n had quickly learned only came out when she was stressed.

“Something wrong?” Y/n asked as she set her purse by the coffee table.

Rebecca took a breath, “Trent Crimm will be joining our meeting this morning. Apparently he has a proposition he’d like to talk to us about.”

Y/n confusedly looked to Keeley before bouncing back to Rebecca.

“Trent previously worked for The Independent,” she continued, “I don’t know if you read the article about Ted’s panic attacks last season, but he was at the helm.”

In fact, Y/n hadn’t read anything about Ted’s panic attacks until recently. And if she had heard the name ‘Trent Crimm,’ it hadn’t made a lasting impression.

“So…” Y/n started, “Do we like him or…?”

“I suppose it’s neutral,” Rebecca sighed, “Or that could change within the hour. We’ll see.”

Y/n gave a thin lipped smile, “Fun.”

By the time the three letters hit the air. Higgins was knocking on Rebecca’s door, Trent Crimm in tow.

“Good morning, all,” he greeted, “I’ve brought our special guest.”

Rebecca stood to her feet, smoothing her blouse as she did, “Trent. Always a pleasure.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” Trent said, his voice smooth and even as he shook Rebecca’s hand.

“I believe you’ve met Keeley Jones,” Rebecca gestured to her friend, “But you haven’t met our latest hire. This is Miss Y/n Y/l/n, she’s heading up PR alongside Keeley.”

Y/n stretched her hand over Rebecca’s desk to take Trent’s.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Y/l/n,” the former journalist greeted.

“You as well,” Y/n replied, keeping an even expression.

Rebecca gestured towards the chair on the opposite side of the desk, “Please.”

Trent took a seat while Y/n, Keeley and Higgins formed a united front on either side of Rebecca

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I requested to meet with you,” Trent said, pausing briefly after, “As you know, I recently left my position at The Independent in favor of pursuing other creative avenues. However, having spent much time here, as well as other clubs, I know how unique AFC Richmond is.”

Unique. The same word Y/n had used to describe her feelings on Richmond. So she wasn’t the only one who saw it…

“Not only this past season,” Trent continued, “Being relegated only to make a triumphant return, but the team, the coaches…” Trent spread his hands, “It’s all quite special in contrast to other clubs.”

Finally, Trent paused the flattery and got to the heart of the matter. “I’m quite interested in writing a book about AFC Richmond. It would, of course, contain some of the club’s rich history, but I’d specifically like to focus on this season, which would entail shadowing the club for its entirety.”

Red lights. Big, red flashing lights went off in Y/n’s head.

“Well,” Rebecca stuttered, reaching for her tea cup, “That is…certainly a proposition.”

“Quite,” Higgins agreed, that nervous smile pasted on his face.

“It’s wonderful to hear,” Y/n added, glancing briefly over to Keeley and seeing the same panic in her eyes, “That the club’s so highly regarded.”

Trent smiled easily as he waited for an answer.

“But,” Rebecca said rather loudly, before catching herself, “I feel that the final say can’t come from me. I think it’s only right that Coach Lasso be the one who decides.”

“Yes,” Keeley interjected, “That’s a very good point.”

Speak of the devil, or whatever inhumanly cheery being he channeled each morning, The Final Say rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Good morning, Viet-“ Ted began as he strolled in.

All at once, in nervous relief, Rebecca, Keeley, Higgins and Y/n all shouted, “Ted!”

“Hey, look who’s here,” Ted grinned, pointing to Keeley, “Hi, Keeley.”

“Hello, Ted,” Trent turned in his chair.

Ted stopped in place, before shaking the man’s hand, “Trent Crimm. Are you kiddin’ me? Hey, nice to see you, man. You know, they got a big ol’ Ziploc bag full of your hair ties down at the lost and found. You should pop on down, i-if you still want ‘em.”

Ted went about placing the daily delivery of biscuits on Rebecca’s desk, something Y/n still didn’t understand.

“Mr. Crimm has requested to follow the club this year,” Rebecca paraphrased, grinning unnaturally large at Ted, “He wants to write a book about us.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ted raised a curious eyebrow.

“I think there’s a story here worth telling, Ted,” Trent said.

“Yes,” Rebecca smiled, “And we all,” she gestured to her own team, “Love the idea, but obviously as manager, we thought you should have the final decision.”

Ted sucked his teeth, “Oh, okay.”

As he began to think it over, and while Trent’s back was turned on the group, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n began to mouth and gesture a silent chorus of ‘no’ to Ted.

“I mean, geez, you know…” Ted stalled, his eyes bouncing between his co-workers and Trent.

It was a nightmare waiting to unfold, Y/n tried to communicate that passionately with each shake of her head. All eyes were already on Richmond, waiting for them to mess up. Waiting for some drama that could be exploited. They didn’t need someone describing every failure in graphic detail, catching every ugly moment…

Ted felt otherwise.

“Sure, what the heck? Why not?”

Y/n grimaced.

“When can you start?” Ted asked, “No time like the present. Except 11:11, that’s my wishing time. Or 23:11, if I’m at a military base or Euro Disney.”

“Right, well,” Rebecca breathed, “Decision made. Wonderful,” she smiled at the newest addition to the Richmond fold, “Trent, welcome.”

Y/n kept the same polite smile, praying her face held.

The chime of Higgins’ mobile broke the awkward silence.

“Holy shit,” the man exclaimed, “Zava is leaving Juventus.”

“Whoa,” Keeley cried, reaching for her phone in time with Rebecca.

“Wait,” Y/n paused, “‘Zava’ Zava?”

Ted gasped, “What about their kids?” He earned himself a brief glare from the foursome across from him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what any of those things meant. I thought it was like Greek mythology or something. I was just lost. I just went with that. Sorry.”

“Zava’s a world class striker who’s about to leave his club in Italy,” Trent explained for Ted’s benefit, but Y/n listened as well. She knew nothing more than the name.

“Ooh,” Ted replied, “Cacio later, Pepe.”

“Apparently,” Higgins began to read from the headlines, “He wants to play in the Premier League because his wife binged The Office and she wants to live in England.”

“I think you mean Scranton, Pennsylvania, buddy,” Ted pointed toward Higgins.

“We didn’t do it first, Ted,” Y/n replied, glancing up from Google quickly, “Ricky Gervais?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Ted remembered, “Y’all did a premake over here.”

Higgins brought them back to the original topic. “If we got Zava,” he breathed, “That would be amazing.”

“He would be huge for the club’s brand,” Keeley added, “He’s got, like, 90 million followers. One time he just posted the word ‘7 million likes.’ It got 10 million likes.”

“Yes, but he is very expensive,” Rebecca countered, “And isn’t he supposed to be a bit of a diva?”

Y/n was scanning the top search results for the star player, already not thrilled with the level of consistent inconsistency she saw. But Keeley was right, he was on his way to Beckham level status.

“Yes, huge diva,” the blonde answered, “Enormous. He goes through teams like you go through manicurists.”

“The fumes make me dizzy,” Rebecca defended, “And I overshare,” she quickly looked to Trent, “Please don’t print that.”

“We have to balance what he’d do for the brand versus the enviroment he’d create,” Y/n spoke up, “But, yes, generally speaking, he’d be incredible.”

“Zava has gone through 14 teams in 15 years,” Higgins spoke for the other side, “Leaving behind nothing but chaos and trophies,” longing developed in the man’s eyes, “Beautiful, shiny trophies.”

Rebecca sighed, “Yes, but, Leslie, who wants to deal with all that drama?”

“Apparently, everyone who can afford him,” Higgins answered, scrolling an article, “Chelsea, Arsenal, United, West Ham…”

“I say, let’s just go for it,” Rebecca said, barely letting a beat pass after the utterance of her ex’s team, “I mean, maybe he’s a handful, but who doesn’t love a handful?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re talking salted peanuts,” Ted replied, “Yes, please. If you’re talking Skittles though, no thank you. You know, the dye melts and it gets all over your fingers, makes ‘em all sticky,” Ted laughed before pointing to Trent, “And that, you can print.”

“Wonderful,” Higgins decided, “Let’s set up a meeting.”

“Great,” Rebecca cheered as the rest of the room voiced their own enthusiasm, “Let’s go get Zava. Zava-dabba-doo!”

Keeley and Y/n each collected their things and headed for the door with Higgins and Ted.

“This is exciting,” Keeley said cheerily.

“Potentially a huge headache,” Y/n replied, ever the more pessimistic, “But it could be great.”

“So, am I to assume,” Trent asked Rebecca, not having moved from his spot, “You’re going to pursue a notoriously mercurial player you can’t really afford simply because the team your ex-husband owns wants him?”

From the door, Ted, Higgins, Y/n and Keeley all gave an encore of the previous performance, gesturing wildly to Rebecca to answer ‘no.’

Following Ted’s lead, Rebecca responded truthfully. “Yes.”

A second of silence passed before Trent gave an approving smile, “Love that.”

Feeling safe leaving Rebecca and Trent alone, Y/n followed the group out and down the stairs. Keeley informed her along the way that she was off to oversee a commercial shoot, but to text her if she had any questions. Regardless of Y/n’s reservations, she admired that Keeley was a hands-on boss.

Once in her office, Y/n set down her things and tried to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that she needed to speak to Ted. He’d gone forward with Trent Crimm’s book idea without even considering the possible repercussions for the club. One week on the job had shown Y/n that Ted was optimistic to a fault.

“He knows what he’s doing, he knows what he’s doing,” Y/n muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and sitting down at her desk. She’d barely made contact with the chair before she was back up, “Nope.”

Descending down the staircase with purpose in each step, Y/n made a beeline for the coach’s office, passing Keeley and Isaac. She knocked on the door twice before poking her head in.

“Well, hey there, Y/n,” Ted greeted from his office, waving her over, “Come on in.”

“Hi,” Y/n smiled, shutting the door behind her and coming to stand before Ted and Coach Beard’s adjoined desks. The latter wasn’t in yet. “Do you have a second?”

“Hey, for a fellow ex-pat, you can have two,” Ted joked.

Y/n had prayed on multiple occasions that she’d learn to appreciate Ted’s off-beat humor as everyone else seemed to. God had yet to deliver.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re considering,” Y/n gestured circularly with her hands, “All the angles of what allowing Mr. Crimm to follow us this season means.”

“Okay,” Ted replied, moving to sit down at his desk, “Speak your mind, small fry.”

“Look, I know that a book all about Richmond sounds flattering,” Y/n explained, “And it is, but…regardless of whether he currently works for a publication or not, Trent is, at his core, a journalist. And some journalists may say they’re out to capture the good, but most of them are only interested in capturing the bad. And he’s going to be here for,” Y/n shut her eyes to accentuate the point, “Every single moment of the season. Which means every slip of the tongue, every mistake, basically,” she gestured between Ted and Coach Beard’s chair, “Any wrong move you or the team make will be put into print and potentially inflated to make you look even worse. It’s just…” Y/n took a breath, “Not the best idea.”

To his credit, Ted not only listened to Y/n’s points, but seemed to genuinely consider them.

“Well, I appreciate you bringin’ all that up, Y/n,” Ted finally replied, “Really. But I’ve known Trent a while and he’s a good egg. He’s not gonna try and paint us any other way than which we are.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “This is the same man who wrote about you having a panic attack on the pitch.”

“Oh,” Ted waved the memory off, “He was just doin’ his job. Ain’t no water needs to pass under that bridge.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied, her mouth hanging open at the lack of thought that was going into this.

“All that aside, I think Trent’s gonna do a bang-up job,” Ted smiled, “And if anything comes up, we’ll make sure to let him know to leave it out.”

“Okay,” Y/n clapped her hands together before holding them up, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, what was that?” Ted asked, pressing a hand to his ear for added comedic effect.

Y/n threw him a courtesy chuckle as she made for the door, letting the faux smile fall as soon as her back was turned. She could officially go on record of saying she’d tried to save the club’s reputation. If Ted wanted to sabotage that, it wouldn’t fall on her head…

Emerging in the hallway, Y/n was more in her head than her surroundings. A solid blonde and blue blur in her peripheral vision, Jamie Tartt, brought her back. He was laser-locked on something down the hall.

Y/n came to a stop, glancing down the way from them to see the back of Roy Kent, bobbing down the hall, and Keeley standing by herself, with a bag over her shoulder.

“What are you looking at?” Y/n asked, more confused than curious.

“Science,” Jamie mumbled, his eyes following Keeley as she turned on her heel.

Y/n squinted at the reply, “Huh?”

“I think Roy and Keeley broke up,” Jamie answered.

“They were dating?” Y/n asked, her eyes now trailing Keeley as well.

The question finally broke Jamie’s focus and he turned to Y/n, “How could you not know that? I thought you and Keeley were mates.”

“She’s my boss,” Y/n gave a sideways glance, “Her personal life is none of my business.”

Y/n turned to Jamie, who was already tuned out of the conversation. “But something tells me it’s yours so,” she clutched the rail and swung up the stairs, “Have a good one.”

Behind her, Jamie mumbled some reply as they went on their separate ways.

—————————

Later in the day, after extensive research on Zava amongst other tasks, Y/n’s phone buzzed with a text from Keeley.

Are you free for a drink after work?

She sighed tiredly, out of all the people trying to befriend her, Keeley’s efforts were the hardest to combat. Maybe because she was sunshine personified, maybe because Y/n could tell she didn’t have an dis-genuine bone in her body…all she knew was she truly didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

A second text came through, offering salvation.

Promise it’s work related.

Y/n sent a reply immediately.

Sounds good. Text me where.

Once quitting time came around, Y/n drove to the posher side of Richmond and the address of the bar Keeley had given her. It was more upscale than the Crown and Anchor, but not so much so that it would be obscenely priced.

To her credit, Keeley dove right into the business of it all when they sat down. She told Y/n how at the commerical shoot, she’d run into an old friend from her modeling days and had offered her a job with KJPR. Something along the lines of a liaison coordinator between clients.

“Okay,” Y/n shrugged, “I don’t really see how this involves me though.”

“Well,” Keeley slid her martini glass away, “I was wondering, since you’ve got so much experience, if you wouldn’t mind helping me help her get adjusted? It’s a bit of a jump from her previous jobs and I just want to make sure she does well.”

While Keeley could sometimes appear naive, she wasn’t to be underestimated. Y/n knew this already. She was never in the KJPR office for more than twenty minutes at a time. She barely knew the names of the other employees. Keeley knew all this as well.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at her boss, “That’s not why you asked me out tonight.”

Keeley held her gaze a few seconds before breaking with a small smile, “No, it’s not. I just said that so you’d come.”

Y/n rolled her eyes only in half-annoyance as Keeley cackled.

“But I really would appreciate your help with Shandy whenever you’re around,” Keeley said firmly, “She’d benefit a lot, learning from you.”

“Sure,” Y/n shrugged, not even realizing that she was smiling, “Fine. But if she’s as deceitful as you, I want nothing to do with her.”

Keeley chuckled, “Fair. How’d your day go?”

“Fine,” Y/n sighed, twirling the olive on the toothpick of her drink, “Sounds like you had a better one though.”

“Yeah,” Keeley replied, her voice dropping and her eyes suddenly turning sad.

Y/n didn’t need to be told not to pry into anyone’s life, it was a professional courtesy she wanted herself. But if the members of AFC Richmond were so personally intwined, there was a certain amount she had to know.

“Can I ask you something?” Y/n carefully broached the topic.

“Yeah, of course,” Keeley replied softly.

“You and Coach Kent…” Y/n awkwardly ran her finger along the bottom of her glass, “Were you…?”

Keeley gave an almost imperceptible nod, averting her gaze back to her drink.

“I don’t need to know anything,” Y/n held her hands up, “I-“

“No, it’s fine,” Keeley dismissed her, “I mean, it sucks, but it also helps to talk about it.”

Not the intended result, but Y/n wasn’t going to shut Keeley down. It felt like girl code.

“I don’t know, it just…” Keeley pressed a hand to the side of her face, “Really came out of nowhere. I keep thinking back and trying to find where things started going wrong, but I can’t find anything. I mean, I’m wracking my brain constantly just wondering what I did wrong.”

“Look, I don’t know the situation,” Y/n replied, “The little I know about Coach Kent, he seems like a…” she searched for the right word, “Somewhat difficult person.”

Keeley breathed a laugh, “Yeah, sometimes. But not how you’d think.”

“But…maybe things just didn’t work because they didn’t work?” Y/n suggested, trying to ease a fellow woman’s pain a little, “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Keeley replied, not yet meeting Y/n’s eyes, “I just…”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Judging by the longing in her eyes, Y/n knew the next words would only reflect the love that remained on her end.

“Right, enough about me,” Keeley said, perking back up, “I just spilled my guts to you,” she poked Y/n’s arm, “Now you’ve gotta give me something.”

“I’ve got nothing to give,” Y/n chuckled and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, there’s gotta be something,” Keeley squinted, “Have any of the players started hitting on you yet?”

Y/n nearly choked, “Thankfully no.”

“Are there any you want to hit on you?”

This time, Y/n was thankful she didn’t have anything in her mouth or else she definitely would have choked. “No,” she replied, her voice going up in pitch.

“Oh, come on,” Keeley laughed, “There’s gotta be someone.”

“Absolutely not,” Y/n swiped a hand through the air, “Unless you count Dani Rojas picking me up and spinning me around like he’d just come home from war, there’s been nothing.”

“Oh, that’s just Dani,” Keeley smiled, “He’s a sweetheart. But I’d bet you five quid, someone’s already got their eye on you.”

Y/n scrunched up her face at the possibilities of the thought. “Oh, don’t say that.”

“What?” Keeley shrugged, “You’re mad fit, you’re there all the time…someone’s gonna notice you.”

“Subject change,” Y/n shook her head,“Dear God.”

The night went on like that: Keeley trying to see how uncomfortable she could make Y/n until she laughed, which only resulted in them both laughing.

—————————

Richmond’s first match of the season arrived on a clear Sunday afternoon in Chelsea.

Y/n got herself to the stadium, clutching her Richmond badge just in case Rebecca had forgotten to put her name on the list. But sure enough, she sailed right on through security and rode the elevator all the way up to the VIP box. Coming down the aisles of seats, Y/n spotted the trio that were quickly becoming her group. Higgins, Keeley and Rebecca were huddled together in deep discussion.

“What’d I miss?” Y/n asked as they parted, taking the vacant seat next to Rebecca.

“According to Higgin’s wife’s, friend’s, sister’s airline stewardess’ massage therapist,” Rebecca sputtered, “Zava’s going to sign with Chelsea.”

“Oh,” Y/n sighed, feeling a bit deflated, “That’s too bad.”

It didn’t take long for the crowd to begin chanting, though neither team had come onto the pitch yet. Y/n glanced down at the field and spotted Roy Kent, facing the crowd and giving a reserved salute. She’d forgotten he was a Chelsea legend.

Y/n glanced over to Keeley, who was firmly squeezing Rebecca’s hand, and felt a twinge of sympathy pain.

But as quick as the crowd had been to cheer on Roy, their attention flipped as Zava himself came through the VIP section, taking a seat in the front row.

Y/n sighed, “Well, that’s a bit of salt in the wound.”

Not before long, the match kicked off. It had been a solid year since Y/n had been to a game, and even longer since she’d been remotely interested. But working for a club, she had to get back into it to some extent. She reacquainted herself with the rules as the clock ticked, her eyes bouncing between players. By the end of the first half, it was 1-0 in favor of Chelsea.

A loud gag came from Higgins, breaking Y/n out of her thoughts. “Is he okay?”

Rebecca didn’t seem at all concerned, “What now?”

“I might’ve jinxed it,” Higgins replied nervously, looking over towards where Zava was seated.

Y/n leaned forward to see an older man approaching the striker, shaking his hand confidently.

“I knew it,” Rebecca complained.

“I’m confused, who’s-“

Y/n’s sentence stopped in its tracks as the older man took off his sunglasses, revealing himself to be Rupert Mannion.

“Oh,” Y/n’s mouth hung around the vowel.

“Would you please go and find out as much as you can from your vast network of lip-reading massage therapists?” Rebecca asked of Higgins, who promptly departed with his phone.

Y/n took the opportunity to scan Rupert from a distance. He looked perfectly pleasant and somehow, that let Y/n know he was as dangerous as he’d been made out to be.

“Rupert’s gonna land Zava,” Rebecca stated.

“You don’t know that,” Keeley replied.

Rebecca sighed, launching into a story, “Years ago when I was bartending in that private club, Rupert and his then wife came into the bar,” she laughed, “He was the life and soul of the party. Buying rounds of drinks for everyone, telling stories. Just charm personified. And he left me a massive tip. And then about a week later, he came back without his wife and asked me out. I, of course, said no and then he left.

“What a dick,” Keeley replied.

“I’ll second that,” Y/n raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the dick in question.

“But then he came back the next night, and the next night, and the next,” Rebecca continued, “And he would just sit at the bar with a drink and chatted to me till close. And he just said ‘It doesn’t matter if you ever go out with me. It’s just worth it being here to get to know you.’”

Y/n and Keeley looked out at the air ahead of them, both contemplating the almost magic of it.

“It’s a fine line between stalking and romance,” Keeley mused.

“And after about six weeks of that,” Rebecca was building towards the conclusion, “He asked me out again. And I said yes without any hesitation because by that point…I just felt so lucky because he wanted me.”

Y/n gazed over at Rebecca, feeling the pang of understanding only women could share. The same one she felt for Keeley.

“He made me feel special,” Rebecca said, old emotion welling in her throat, “Chosen,” she glanced over at where her ex stood, “He made me feel like that.”

Y/n and Keeley looked over to a grinning Rupert, charming many laughs out of Zava.

While Keeley reached over and took her best friend’s hand, Y/n met Rebecca’s eyes and gave her the warmest smile she’d given anyone at Richmond so far. Through that, she hoped, Rebecca would know she was with her.

Not a moment later, Higgins shimmied his way back through their row.

“Well?” Rebecca asked as the three women straightened.

“I just got off the phone with my son’s karate teacher,” Higgins began to recall the trail of communication, “Who used to date the woman who ran Zava’s avocado ranch-”

“Would you please get on with it?” Rebecca rushed.

“He might be going to West Ham,” Higgins nervously answered.

“Damn,” Y/n fell back in her seat, more disappointed with more context.

“Shit,” Keeley exclaimed.

“I knew it,” Rebecca shrugged, entirely unsurprised. “Rupert always gets what he wants.”

The four of them sat there, wallowing in defeat, before Rebecca’s posture perked up again.

“You know what,” she pulled her purse from the floor, “If Rupert can sweet-talk Zava into joining his club, then so can I.”

“Yes,” Keeley cheered her friend on, standing up to let her out the row.

“Alright,” Y/n nodded, proud that Rebecca was willing to fight for the club. Better yet, despite her desperation, she could handle it with grace.

The second half began and the Greyhounds came out on the attack with a new vigor. Y/n wasn’t sure what happened in the locker rooms between halves, but something had changed during the fifteen minute break and it was working for them. Colin delivered the ball to Jamie, who passed it to Sam, who made a spectacular kick that bounced off the goal post, hitting Dani in the face, which resulted in an even more spectacular rebound into the net.

Keeley was out of her seat cheering, hugging Higgins before tugging on Y/n’s hands excitedly. Even though she was only getting re-familiarized with the sport, Y/n felt a pit of joy in her stomach as she watched the team celebrating on the pitch.

After the point, Rebecca made her way back down the row and rejoined the group.

“Well?” Y/n asked, extending her hands in anticipation.

“Did you sweet talk him?” Higgins asked.

“Uh,” Rebecca adjusted her coat, “What’s the opposite of that?”

The three of them thought a moment.

“Sour-yell,” Keeley came up with.

“Yeah,” Rebecca nodded, keeping her eyes on the match, “I did that.”

Keeley, Higgins and Y/n looked to one another in confusion. Any dignity Rebecca possessed seemed to disappear in the face of Rupert Mannion. But now, it had possibly cost them Zava, and Y/n felt the opportunities slip through their fingers.

The game, however, ended better than Rebecca’s conversation. A 1-1 draw and Richmond left with a goal on the board. The team was proud, and in turn, Y/n felt an inkling of pride.

“Right, well,” Y/n sighed as their section began to empty, “Shall we?”

“Yes,” Rebecca replied speedily, gathering her items, “I don’t think I can handle another run-in.”

The foursome picked up and left, heading back into the stadium.

“No one else was around for your…” Y/n fished for some better term for Rebecca’s blow up, “Sour-yell, right?”

“Thankfully, no. But I still think we need to get straight back to the office,” Rebecca answered as they climbed the steps, “It’s not safe here.”

As they made their way out, an above head TV screen spoke unavoidably loud.

“Please welcome the newest member of Chelsea Football Club,” one of the team’s staff said from the press room, “Zava.”

Keeley, Y/n, Rebecca and Higgins froze under the picture, unable to look away as Zava picked up the contract and paused before signing.

“I have changed my mind,” he told the room full of journalists, “Zava will not play for Chelsea.”

“Oh,” Rebecca sighed, “I’m sorry, I can’t watch this.”

As she left, Keeley followed with Higgins and Y/n bringing up the rear.

“Zava will play for Richmond.”

At hearing the name of their club, the group hastened back around the hall corner, mouths agape. As the press room filled with question after question that Zava would leave unanswered, Keeley hugged Rebecca and squealed. Y/n found herself laughing, pressing a hand to her chest in shock.

“So he responds well to yelling,” Y/n exclaimed.

“You did it,” Keeley grinned as she squeezed her friend, “You did it!”

Rebecca looked proud of herself, and rightfully so. This was a win for her, for the brand, for the whole of AFC Richmond. The season had just taken a massive turn in, potentially, the best direction.

“Okay, definitely back to the office,” Keeley made a plan, “We’ve got to put out a statement.”

“Right,” Rebecca smiled, victoriously leading her team out of the stadium.

—————————

After writing up an official announcement with Keeley, Y/n headed out for the night. She made it down the staircase just as the last of the Greyhounds were leaving the locker room, dressed for a night out.

“Ah, Y/n,” Sam called, giving a little wave.

“Hey,” Y/n greeted, “Congratulations on that goal today,” she looked to Dani with an awkward smile, “And…you too, I think?”

Dani laughed, “It was magnificent.”

“That it was,” Y/n chuckled.

“Listen,” Sam interjected, “The team is going out for a celebratory drink. Can we convince you to come and join us?”

Y/n shut her mouth and wracked her brain for replies that wouldn’t make her sound like an asshole. She liked the players, from the few interactions she’d had with them, but going out to a club with them was definitely not in her job description.

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, “But I actually have plans.”

“Ah,” Sam nodded, painting his face with mock defeat, “Perhaps next time? When we win?”

“Maybe,” Y/n smiled, realizing she’d have to come up with another lie when the time came, “But you guys have a great time.”

“Oh, it is already a great time,” Dani replied as he began to make his way down the hall, pumping his fists in the air, “We got Zava!”

Sam and Y/n shared a laugh before bidding each other goodnight. Y/n waited a few minutes in the hall until the last sports car had left the lot before exiting herself.

Once back in the safety of her apartment, she changed into pajamas and flipped on the television. Keeping the volume low, she pulled out her cell from her purse and dialed a familiar number.

“Hey,” her sister’s voice came through after two rings.

“Hi,” Y/n sang as she moved around her kitchen.

“How’s the great football executive?” Caylee asked.

Y/n scanned the contents of her freezer, settling on a frozen lasagna. “Definitely not my title. And definitely not one I want.”

“What? Who wouldn’t want to be in charge of a team who score goals with their face?”

Y/n got a laugh out of the memory, “You watched the game?”

“Of course I did,” Caylee replied, an smile evident in her voice, “Still don’t fully get it, but I watched it.”

Watching as her dinner spun in the microwave, Y/n smiled. Thousands of miles between them and it felt like her little sister was just in the next room.

“Well, ‘one’ would not want to be in charge of a team that scores with their face, or allows a tabloid writer to tail them all season,” Y/n listed off the incidents of the week, opening the microwave before it could beep, “Or gets photographed coming out of a bloody sewer.”

“Ah,” Caylee understood immediately, “Still got that ten foot pole?”

Y/n could finally sigh in exhaustion without worrying anyone would catch her. “Cayl, if you spent two seconds here, you’d understand why.”

“No,” Caylee calmly said, her voice jumping an octave, “That’s never been my thing. It’s always been yours.”

Setting her dinner down on her kitchen table, Y/n took a seat. “It’s not that it’s a bad place, it’s a good gig. The people are just…a lot.”

Caylee hummed, decoding what her sister meant. It came off condescending.

“What’s that?” Y/n asked, semi-annoyed.

“Nothing,” Caylee replied.

“It’s something.”

“Nope,” Caylee popped her lips, “Just wondering if you ever get lonely up there in your cold corporate castle.”

The thing about talking to people who knew you…was that they knew you. Caylee was the only person that could see through Y/n’s barriers and knew exactly what prompted their creation. She was the one person Y/n couldn’t hide from.

“How could I ever be lonely when I’ve got you?” Y/n finally answered, reaching for the tv remote.

Caylee snorted, “Alright, c’mon, fill me in. I wanna hear everything.”

Y/n channel surfed until she hit Sky Sports, where the highlights of the match were being played. The main attraction, of course, was Dani’s goal.

“I don’t even know where to start…” she smiled, watching the replay and settling in for the night.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist

@lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #jamie tartt x reader #heartfirst

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worldofheroes · 9 months

Text

Say That Again

tom cruise x fem!actress!reader

summary: during an interview, simon calls you out about your multi-lingual abilities, making you say something embarrassing. tom finds it absolutely attractive and can’t stop thinking about you talking in that tone of voice to him.

warnings: 18+, no plot, language, friends with benefits, protected sex

wc: 1.3k

a/n: based on a request by @rveyjules! I took a couple creative liberties, I hope you don’t mind! this has absolutely no plot, so don't go looking for a storyline lol

“Please welcome Tom Cruise, Henry Cavill, Rebecca Ferguson, Simon Pegg, and Y/N Y/L/N!”

The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles. It takes well over a minute for everyone to calm down.

“I’m so glad you’re here tonight!” Jimmy exclaims.

“It’s great to be here,” Tom smiles.

“So, we have newcomer Y/N Y/L/N to the Mission team. Y/N, what has it been like working alongside these amazing actors?” Jimmy asks.

“Oh, starting with me,” you blush. “It’s been fantastic. Everyone has been so kind and patient. I’m sure Henry can agree with me on this, but it was a little nerve-wracking coming into a series like Mission with such an established story and characters.”

Henry nods. “The crew has been so welcoming. A big part of it is that Tom really likes to get everyone together even when we’re not filming to form those bonds that you see on the screen.”

“I think that’s what keeps this franchise going is those character bonds we see,” Jimmy says. “Now, does any of that change with filming in different countries?”

“I try really hard to ‘normalize’ Mission as much as I can,” Tom says. “We spend a few weeks here, a few weeks there… It's a crazy schedule. I try to set it up to where we can take breaks and just have fun outside of work.”

“You film in so many countries, is there ever a struggle with the language barrier?” Jimmy asks.

“I think all of us are at least conversational in a lot of languages,” Simon says. “Some are better than others…”

Everyone laughs.

“But like, Y/n here is almost fluent in Japanese, which I love,” Simon says.

“Really?” Tom turns so he can face you.

“Thanks Simon,” you say playfully, hitting his shoulder.

“She is! It’s crazy,” Rebecca says.

“Can you say something for us?” Jimmy asks.

“Um… Ohayō, ogenki desu ka?”

“And what does that mean?” Jimmy asks.

“Just a simple, ‘hi, how are you?’,” you smile.

“I believe there’s something with the word ara-ara,” Simon laughs.

“Simon, no!” You laugh.

“Ara-ara?” Jimmy asks.

“It’s kind of a meme,” you explain. “But you have to say it right.”

“How so?” Jimmy asks.

You clear your throat, and then as seductively as you can without embarrassing yourself too much… “Ara-ara.”

Everyone laughs and Tom just about chokes on his water, making everyone laugh harder.

“That was… something,” Tom remarks.

“Simon, I hate you,” you say, laughing.

The interview quickly gets back on the topic of Mission, and wraps up shortly after.

The group makes their way back to their dressing rooms to change back into “street clothes”.

There’s a knock on your door. You open it to see Tom standing in the hallway.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” he says, not making eye contact.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I come in?”

“Um, sure,” you say, moving so Tom can enter. You close the door.

“I didn’t know you could talk like that,” Tom says in a low voice.

“What do you mean?” you ask playfully.

Tom tries to hold back a moan. “You sounded so hot… I can’t stop thinking about doing things to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re not being very professional.”

“Fuck being professional,” he growls, moving towards you.

“Tom,” you breathe. “Not here.”

Tom reaches out and grabs your arm. He gives it a squeeze and then lets go.

“You’re right. Not here.” Tom sighs. “Come to my hotel room.”

You nod. “I can do that,” you whisper.

“Quickly.”

You nod. Tom quickly exits your dressing room, and you hurriedly finish changing so you can get to the hotel.

You get to the hotel, and you’re standing outside Tom’s room.

You take a breath and then knock. He opens the door instantly, pulling you in.

“Tom,” you whisper.

“I’ve always had a thing for you,” he says softly, brushing hair out of your face. “And the way you said that word…”

“Oh, you like it when I talk like that?” you ask seductively, lightly moving your fingertips up his arms.

Tom closes his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Mm… I can talk to you like this,” you say with your hands moving to his chest.

“Please,” he says in a strained voice, resting his forehead against yours.

“Do you need to fuck me?” you ask him.

The two of you have agreed to a friends with benefits relationship, neither one of you quite ready to commit to anything, but needing something more than just friendship. And when the two of you met, you both really hit it off.

“Yes,” he whispers.

You start to unbutton his shirt, breathing a little heavier now.

Tom’s hands find the buttons to your shorts, undoing them and pulling them off. You finish unbuttoning his shirt and slide it off his body.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, pulling your shirt off.

You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor.

Tom moans, unable to hold back.

You work at his pants, pulling them down.

“Go ahead and fuck me,” you whisper, palming at his groin.

Tom picks up his pants, pulling his wallet out, then a condom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “You always have one on you?”

Tom nods. “I can never guess when you’ll do this to me.”

A moan escapes you. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

Tom walks you backwards to the bed. You fall backwards on it, and he crawls on top of you.

He starts kissing your jaw, down your neck, down your body.

“Tom,” you whisper.

He looks up at you, putting his fingers in his mouth, coating them with saliva. Your hips involuntarily buck, knowing what’s about to happen.

Tom’s fingers dive into your folds, making you yelp. He circles your clit, making you squirm.

A finger is inserted into you.

“Tom,” you moan.

He takes his other hand and presses down on your lower abdomen, and you can feel his finger petting your walls.

“More,” you beg.

Tom smiles, inserting another finger.

You put a hand on his, the one that’s working in you.

“I was thinking something… thicker,” you say softly.

“Fuck,” Tom groans. “Okay.”

He removes his fingers, then his boxers. He strokes himself a couple times before ripping the condom wrapper open.

You watch him closely as he rolls the condom down his shaft.

“Tom,” you plead in a whisper.

“I’m right here,” he replies, starting to push into you.

“Shit,” you moan.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, bottoming out against you.

He slowly thrusts against you, grunting in pleasure.

“Agh, sweetheart,” he mumbles, laying down on you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Faster,” you whisper.

Tom grunts in reply, his hips moving faster and faster.

“Tom…” you almost cry in pleasure.

“Come for me, baby girl,” he whispers.

Your fingernails dig into his back as you let go, cumming on his hard cock.

Soon, Tom finishes as well. He sighs, letting down all his weight on you.

You grunt with the added weight. “Fuck.”

Tom sits up and pulls out of you. He discards the condom and lays back down on the bed, pulling you onto his chest.

“Tom,” you exhale.

“You didn’t have to talk like that at the interview,” he whispers.

“Mm, but now I know what it does to you.”

“I think we should change our status. Have a real relationship.”

“What?”

“I’m falling for you, y/n.”

“Tom.”

“We can keep it a secret for a while. Test it out. No pressure or anything for either one.”

You look up at Tom.

“I care about you so much,” Tom says softly.

You nod. “I think we could give it a try.”

Tom smiles softly and kisses your head.

“No pressure,” he repeats.

“No pressure,” you agree.

#pete mitchell x reader #tom cruise x reader #top gun x reader #ethan hunt x reader #tom cruise imagine #maverick x reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 15 days

Text

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

🐴Chapter summary: Life with Jimin is perfect— he is the man of your dreams and you feel like you’re living the perfect life. Until someone from the past shows up, scatters your world and leaves you utterly heartbroken.

🐴Chapter title: Broken Dreams

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

🐴Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jiimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

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

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

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

🐴Chapter warnings: angst, unprotected sex, spanking, nipple play, fingering, oral (female), scratching at back, hair pulling, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a lot of crying and heartbreak I am so sorry 😭 there is also a mention of pregnancy (not reader!!!) and a lot of jealousy— I’M SO SORRY 😭

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 14.4k

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

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

🐴Now playing 💿 “Broken Dreams” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: I’m just gonna come out and say it: you’re gonna hate me again (and OC too), lol. This chapter is bittersweet and I’m really really sorry for the ending! 😭 It was very tough to write with all the angst and heartache.. But please know that the sun will shine on them again ☀️ And all the angst is almost over!!! 🥹

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

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“It’s so fragile Easy broken It’s so fragile, and it goes so slow” - ‘Broken Dreams’ by Rebecca Lavelle

As the months whirl by in a blur of blissful moments, you find yourself lost in the sweet rhythm of love with Jimin. Each passing day is a testament to the depth of your affection, from the shared laughter in your work endeavors to the cozy nights spent intertwined in each other's embrace. Tonight is no different, with Jimin nestled beside you, his presence a comforting reassurance of your bond.

You find yourself roused from sleep earlier than usual, a rare moment where you get to simply observe him in his slumber – typically, it’s him stirring you awake. Yet today, the tables have turned, affording you the chance to marvel at his serene form. His face appears angelic, though you’ve also witnessed the mischievous glint that occasionally dances across his features. As he rests, a tranquil air envelops him, his face a study in tranquility; closed eyes, a delicately proportioned nose with a hint of mischief in its slight bump and ample nostrils. It’s an endearing combination, rendering him undeniably charming – a concoction of cuteness, handsomeness, and raw allure that leaves you spellbound.

Your gaze lingers on his flawless lips, plush and inviting, reminiscent of those on a Bratz doll – soft, pouty, and undeniably cute. It’s a marvel how lips can exude such innocence and allure simultaneously. The urge to kiss him swells within you, a magnetic pull drawing you closer with each passing moment.

His bangs cascade delicately across his forehead, a tousled masterpiece that you contributed to last night, a testament to the passion shared between you. Even in disarray, his hair frames his face perfectly, accentuating his captivating features. Every glance at him only deepens your admiration; he's a vision of beauty that leaves you utterly spellbound.

As he breathes, delicate moans escape his lips like whispers of contentment, each one painting a serene smile across your lips. Gently, you reach out and brush aside a stray strand of hair, revealing more of his peaceful face. In slumber, he appears almost otherworldly, his features softened by the tranquility of rest. Cupping his cheek, you feel the weight of his sigh resonate within you, a symphony that sets your heart aflutter with adoration.

A gentle stir ripples through his sleeping form, and you find yourself pondering whether he’ll awaken soon. With a day brimming ahead, perhaps it’s time to rouse him from his slumber?

You tenderly cradle his cheek once more, and in a soft, breathless murmur, your name escapes his lips as he nuzzles deeper into the warmth of your hand.

His eyes remain closed, yet he stirs with a newfound awareness, his voice filled with the warmth of morning sunlight. “It’s always a treasure waking up next to you,” he murmurs, his words like gentle caresses against the dawn.

Your smile blooms like a secret garden, unseen but felt in the air, as his words weave a tapestry of affection around you. Each syllable resonates deep within, echoing the sentiments you hold close. The days without him stretch like barren deserts, devoid of color and life, longing for the oasis of his presence.

“Kiss me,” his voice, a gentle whisper, carries a subtle plea as he utters those two simple words, a request laced with anticipation and tenderness. Though his eyes remain veiled behind the curtain of sleep, the soft curve of his lips tells a story of affection, inviting you into a moment of shared intimacy.

With a soft chuckle dancing on your lips, you lean in to meet his lips, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours in a delicate exchange. Each kiss is a symphony of tenderness and desire, a silent promise of unwavering devotion. Straddling his hips, you lose yourself in the sweetness of his lips, savoring every moment of the intoxicating lust between you.

His touch is a gentle caress, his palms radiating warmth as they cradle your cheeks. It’s as if his hands are a sanctuary, offering solace and reassurance in their tender embrace.

You draw back, gazing at his flushed face, captivated by the softness of his lips, irresistible in their plump allure. Unable to resist, you lean in once more, your lips meeting his in a fervent dance. Beneath you, his laughter ripples like a melody, adding a playful rhythm to your intimate symphony.

Finally, he unveils his eyes, locking onto your mesmerizing gaze. In that moment, you are a breathtaking masterpiece, his heart’s sole desire reflected in your every feature. You are his everything, his world encapsulated in your presence.

“Good morning,” he rasps, his voice a delicious blend of morning huskiness and raw desire, sending a shiver down your spine. With a tender touch, he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear, his fingers lingering as if savoring the sensation of your skin.

“Good morning, babe,” you chirp, your voice filled with morning cheer and affection, eliciting a chuckle from him that rumbles beneath you, unveiling those endearing crooked teeth of his, adding to his irresistible charm.

You press your hips against his, feeling the unmistakable hardness of his dick, and a needy moan escapes your lips. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, a testament to your insatiable desire for him, leaving you yearning for more of his intoxicating presence.

His hands eagerly grasp your hips, his gaze locking with yours in a fiery intensity and so much love. The depth of emotion swirling in those captivating brown eyes renders you breathless, and it should be illegal.

“Babe,” his voice, teasing and laced with desire, sends shivers down your spine as you continue to grind against him, a mischievous smirk dancing across your lips.

“Hm?” You respond with a low, seductive hum, your teeth sinking gently into your plump lower lip, your eyes smoldering with desire as you lock gazes with him. Your expression, a tantalizing blend of need and longing, silently conveys your hunger for him.

“Weren’t yesterday enough?” In his chuckle, there’s a playful tease, yet his hands, now firmly gripping your hips and gently sliding to caress your ass, speak volumes of his unspoken desire.

“No. I can never get enough of you Jimin,” you declare with a breathy whisper, your voice laden with longing and desire, as you lean in to capture his lips once more. With every kiss, the hunger between you intensifies, driving you to press your clothed core against his now fully hard cock, seeking the electrifying friction that ignites fireworks between your bodies.

He releases a primal moan, his desire echoing through the room as he draws you closer, his arms enveloping you in a fiery embrace that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

“I see. I can’t get enough of you either,” he murmurs, lifting you gently, his gaze fixated on you with an intensity that makes your heart race. You’re a fucking goddess, hair tousled in a captivating disarray, cheeks flushed with desire, and eyes ablaze with a hunger that mirrors his own.

He delivers a firm slap to your ass, eliciting a gratifying moan from you. “Take your clothes off for me,” he commands, his voice laced with a potent mix of desire and authority.

You gaze down at your form, clad in the silky, provocative pajamas consisting of a camisole and shorts. With a deliberate motion, you seize the edge of the camisole and peel it off your body, allowing your breasts to spill out in a tantalizing display that elicits a deep groan from Jimin. His hands eagerly encircle your breasts, reveling in their softness and warmth.

“Fuck, I love your breasts. So beautiful like the rest of you,” his words send shivers down your spine as he admires your breasts with an intensity that ignites desire within you. You can feel his dick against you as you grind yourself further into his cock from outside the thin duvet.

His gentle tugs on your erect nipples send electric currents of desire surging through your veins, igniting a primal heat within you. The rush of lust floods your senses, pooling between your thighs and making you ache with need. You moan again, as you keep grinding yourself down on him.

“Now take your shorts and panties off.” His command is firm yet enticing, echoing in the air with a promise of untamed desire. You comply eagerly, shedding your shorts and panties with a sense of urgency, revealing yourself to him in all your naked splendor. As you hover above him, vulnerable yet empowered, the raw intensity between you crackles with anticipation, igniting a primal hunger that begs to be sated.

You sway your body tantalizingly above him, a seductive dance in the dim morning light. His laughter rumbles beneath you like a low, smoldering fire, igniting the already charged atmosphere. With a playful yet possessive touch, he spanks your ass gently, sending a thrill coursing through your veins.

“Now it’s your turn,” you murmur in a husky tone, a symphony of desire dripping from your lips as you seize the edge of the duvet, unveiling his chiseled form beneath. He’s just sleeping in his boxers and god, his physique, handsome and strong, so sculpted with his dedication to all the hard work around the ranch.

You’re practically salivating as your fingers dance over his skin like eager flames, tracing the lines of his physique with a hunger that betrays your longing. From the inviting curve of his collarbones to the sculpted landscape of his abdomen, your touch ignites a trail of sensations that leave you breathless. Finally, your fingertips linger over the tantalizing bulge straining in his boxers.

With a teasing smile playing on your lips, you press yourself against him once more, the wetness from your pussy seeping through the fabric of his boxers, igniting a symphony of shared moans between you.

You shift into a seated position, your eyes glinting mischievously as you playfully tug at the waistband of his boxers, “These are in the way.”

You gracefully slide to his side, giving him room to remove his boxers. As he swiftly tosses them aside, he playfully pins you down onto the mattress, eliciting a joyful giggle from you. In that moment, amidst laughter and desire, your heart brims with a potent mix of love and lust.

He descends to kiss you with a fervor that ignites every fiber of your being, his lips meeting yours in a tantalizing dance of desire. As the intensity of his kiss deepens, you feel his cock pressing against your lower stomach.

“Babe, you’re so pretty,” he breathes out, his voice laden with desire as he reluctantly withdraws from your lips. With a deliberate slowness, he embarks on a journey down your body, pausing at your neck where he showers you with a cascade of tender kisses, each one igniting a new wave of sensation within you.

You giggle and squirm in his embrace, his fingertips dancing along your skin, sending delightful shivers down your spine as his touch tickles you relentlessly.

“Jimin, stop teasing me,” you giggle, though the playful plea in your voice betrays just how much you relish these moments of playful torment.

He trails down your neck, leaving a tantalizing path of kisses and nibbles, his warmth spreading like wildfire. Lower, his touch becomes more urgent, igniting every nerve as he caresses your breasts, his lips a tender contrast against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he takes a pert nipple into his mouth, sucking gently yet with an intensity that leaves you gasping for more.

Your breath hitches at his touch, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips as your body instinctively rises to meet his, every nerve alive with anticipation. Fingers dig into his sturdy back, craving the closeness, anchoring yourself to the intensity of the moment as he sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

His lips and tongue dance with fervor on your sensitive nipple, coaxing out gasps and moans that echo through the room, your body writhing in ecstatic response beneath his touch. Each flick of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you, your senses ablaze with the overwhelming sensation of his intimate caress.

You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each tantalizing brush of his dick against your slickened folds, igniting an insatiable hunger for him deep within your core. Your pussy throbs with an urgent need, aching to be filled by his cock as you yearn for the exquisite union of your bodies, desperate for the intoxicating bliss only he can provide.

With his deft touch, he lavishes equal care and devotion on your neglected nipple, ensuring that both peaks are stimulated. Each tender caress sends electrifying sensations coursing through your body, heightening your arousal to dizzying heights as you surrender to the intoxicating pleasure of his ministrations.

“Jimin—,” you moan out his name, your voice a symphony of pleasure. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle nip of his teeth, sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins. God, you love his mouth so fucking much.

He releases your nipple from his mouth, transferring his attention to its twin with a hunger that sets your senses ablaze. His lips and tongue work in tandem, igniting fireworks of pleasure that dance across your skin. Each delicate nibble sends a surge of arousal pulsing through you, your body responding eagerly to his every touch, every caress.

You writhe beneath him, your back arching instinctively as desire courses through every fiber of your being. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving faint imprints of your longing etched upon him. The hunger within you grows insatiable, a primal need driving you to crave more of him, more of his touch, his passion, his everything.

Understanding your unspoken desires, he trails kisses down your abdomen, his lips igniting a trail of fire along your skin. Arriving at your pussy, he pauses, taking in the sight of you with a reverence that sends shivers down your spine. Then, with a flick of his tongue, he indulges in the exquisite taste of your arousal, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

You feel so sensitive down there, but fuck, his tongue is nice. Every nerve ending tingles with sensitivity and when he moves further into your pussy, his face fully buried between your thighs, he explores every inch of your cunt, teasing, sucking and slowly lapping up your juices.

He’s loud— god, the noises he’s making as he eats you out are sending shivers down your spine. The noises are obscene, and you can’t help but want more.

As he devotes himself to your pleasure, the world around you blurs into a haze of ecstasy. The intensity of his ministrations on your clitoris sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being, rendering you powerless against the overwhelming waves of sensation. With each exquisite movement of his tongue, your senses heighten, your body thrumming with an electric current of desire. You grasp onto his hair, unable to contain the primal urge to draw him closer, to merge further into the abyss of passion he’s guiding you into.

“Fuck, Jimin. I’m gonna come already!” Your words spill out in a desperate plea, the raw intensity of your impending climax building like a tidal wave ready to crash over you. Every nerve ending ignites with a fiery ecstasy as your body quivers in anticipation. With a primal cry, your orgasm surges forth, a torrent of pleasure engulfing you in its embrace. Jimin’s skilled tongue works tirelessly to capture every essence of your release, his devotion evident in every fervent lick and tender kiss, amplifying the euphoria of the moment.

You gasp for precious air, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of ecstasy, as your senses reel in the aftermath. For a fleeting moment, your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind, lost amidst the haze of pleasure that envelopes your being.

As Jimin withdraws from your pulsating core, a single digit replaces his tongue, teasingly probing your slick folds. With effortless ease, it slides into your depths, igniting a symphony of sensations that echo through your body, eliciting a soft, involuntary moan from your parted lips.

Jimin’s soft chuckle fills the room, a symphony of delight as you clutch the sheets, your expression contorted in euphoric pleasure. Every furrow of your brow, every twist of your lips only adds to your beauty, a captivating portrait of ecstasy that leaves him utterly mesmerized.

He delves deeper, skillfully working his finger within you, each movement calculated to send ripples of pleasure through your core. As he adds another finger, your breath catches in your throat, a euphoric mixture of surprise and anticipation flooding your senses. With a soft gasp, you part your thighs more, offering yourself fully to his expert touch.

Still riding the waves of your first orgasm, every touch from Jimin feels like an extension of that euphoria, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body.

As Jimin adds a third finger, a delicious stretch accompanies each movement, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting a symphony of moans and gasps that fill the room.

Jimin skillfully explores the depths of your pleasure, his fingers questing for that elusive sweet spot, and you’re transported to another realm of sensation. When he finally strikes gold, a kaleidoscope of stars bursts behind your closed eyelids. “Jimin!” you cry out, surrendering to the rhythmic dance of his fingers as you eagerly match their movements, every stroke pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

His voice, dark with desire, sends shivers down your spine, matching the intensity in his eyes. “Are you going to come again, baby?” he murmurs, his words dripping with anticipation, his gaze locked onto yours, igniting a primal fire within you.

You bite your lip, a silent affirmation as your head nods in agreement, unable to form words amidst the throes of pleasure that consume you.

With his other hand, he returns to your clit, expertly rubbing it in tandem with the rhythmic thrusts of his fingers. The dual stimulation sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, rendering you utterly powerless to its intoxicating effects. It’s as if every nerve ending is ablaze, your mind and body consumed by the overwhelming sensations, unraveling at the seams and short-circuiting under his masterful touch.

“Come on my fingers, babe,” he urges, his eyes ablaze with primal desire, and you surrender completely. As the tension inside you reaches its breaking point, you convulse beneath his touch, releasing another wave of liquid ecstasy onto his fingers, your body trembling with the intensity of your release.

You pant desperately, consumed by the heat of the moment, yet hungering for even greater heights of pleasure. Your body thrums with an insatiable desire, craving more.

“Fuck. You alway look so beautiful when you come,” his words ignite a fire within you, sending waves of validation and arousal crashing over your senses. As your body responds eagerly to his touch, you can’t help but yearn for more, your inner walls clenching around his fingers in a silent plea for something more substantial, and oh god you wish it was his cock instead.

He keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you as he lets you ride out your orgasm. Just when it feels like you’re teetering on the edge of sensory overload, he withdraws his fingers, allowing you to catch your breath. With a tender touch, he descends to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his own desire evident in the intensity of his embrace.

Your breathless plea hangs in the air, laden with desire and longing, as you lock eyes with him, your fervent need laid bare. “Jimin,” you implore, your voice a whisper laced with urgency, “please, I need you inside me. I want you to fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

His chuckle dances in the charged air, a mix of amusement and arousal, as he watches your desperate expression. With a tender touch, he guides his dick to your pussy, aligning it with your entrance.

“My baby is so needy,” his laughter, a symphony of desire, echoes in the room as he teases you with the tip of his cock, each gentle touch igniting a fervent ache within you. Your moan, a melody of longing, fills the space, a plea for him to quench the fire he’s stoked.

“Don’t tease,” your plea, laden with urgency and desire, hangs in the air, a desperate cry for him to fill the void he’s created. With a soft chuckle dancing on his lips, he obliges, parting your trembling thighs further as he eases himself into your dripping pussy. The sensation, an intoxicating blend of pleasure and bliss, envelops you like a warm embrace from the heavens.

Gasping for breath, you surrender to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you. “Ah, Jimin, fuck! Your dick feels incredible,” you pant, fingers curling around your legs as you draw them closer, a desperate attempt to deepen the electrifying feeling between your bodies.

His nose scrunches with intense pleasure as he thrusts into the depths of your walls, his hands bracing on either side of your body. A sharp intake of breath escapes his lips as he buries himself completely within you. Your inner muscles clench around him, eliciting a soft hiss of satisfaction from his lips.

His chuckle is breathless, a telltale sign of his struggle to maintain composure amidst the overwhelming sensation. “Who’s teasing now?” He manages, his voice laced with desire, a playful retort to your earlier plea.

He delves deeper into you, every inch of him enveloped by your warmth, the closeness of your bodies igniting an intense intimacy that sends shivers down your spine. This position, so raw and intimate, resonates deeply within you, a sensation you cherish with every fiber of your being.

With each withdrawal and thrust, he sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting a passionate cry of his name to escape your lips.

Your senses are ablaze with the overwhelming sensation of him, each powerful thrust sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through your body. With a fervent grip on the sheets, you surrender to the rhythm of his movements, the way that he fills and stretches you out, every thrust a symphony of pleasure that resonates deep within your core.

His hands firmly anchored on either side of your body, the intensity of each thrust ignites a kaleidoscope of sensations, sending you spiraling into the cosmos. With your legs entwined around his hips, you invite him to delve deeper, to explore every inch of your being as he plunges into you with an insatiable hunger. As he descends to capture your lips in a fiery kiss, you’re consumed by the raw passion coursing between you, lost in the euphoria of your love.

Fuck, you love this. The sensation of him filling you up, the fusion of love and desire coursing through every fiber of your being, it’s intoxicating. With each movement, each thrust, you’re consumed by a rapturous ecstasy, savoring every moment of him being deep inside you. As your lips meet his in a fervent kiss, you pour all your passion into it, matching his tenderness with an equal fervor, lost in the symphony of pleasure that only he can orchestrate.

You abandon the sheets and grasp onto his back, your nails grazing his skin with each powerful thrust, lost in a whirlwind of sensation. “Fuck. Jimin,” you gasp, the name slipping from your lips like a fervent prayer amidst pleasure surging between you.

He chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your skin as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, teasingly nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Each gentle bite sends a shiver of delight coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending with delicious anticipation.

Breathlessly, he murmurs against your neck, his voice laced with desire, “You’re so tight, so pretty.” He pulls out only to push himself back in again, seeking out that elusive sweet spot that sends waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Every inch of him inside you feels like a perfect fit, igniting an exquisite symphony of sensations that leaves you gasping for air. As you feel him twitch within you, a surge of pleasure courses through your veins, prompting an instinctive clenching of your walls around him, drawing him deeper into your embrace.

The room is filled with the rhythmic symphony of your bodies colliding, the wet, intoxicating sound of skin meeting skin in a passionate dance. This must be one of your favorite sounds.

As he molds his body against yours, his weight pressing deliciously into you, almost laying flat against your stomach, you’re enveloped in his warmth and passion. His lips dance across your neck, alternating between tender kisses and playful nips, igniting a fire within you. With each stroke of your nails down his back, he responds with a symphony of pleasure, his breathy hisses a testament to the fire between you.

You feel him deep inside your pussy, and you sense the impending rush of another climax, building with an intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. This time, it surges through you with a force that defies containment, coursing through your veins like a wild river breaking free from its banks.

“Jimin, I’m gonna come again,” you pant as he drives into you with unrelenting force. With a wicked smirk, he rises, seizing your right leg and pulling it flush against his shoulder. As he presses down, stretching your body to its limits, each thrust plunges deeper, igniting sensations that border on divine.

His fingers find your throbbing clit once more, sending electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body. You’re so sensitive, teetering on the brink, knowing that it only takes a whisper to send you cascading over the edge and come again.

His touch on your pulsating clit is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through every fiber of your being. With each circular motion and gentle tug, you’re propelled into a whirlwind of ecstasy. Your senses overload as your vision blurs into a kaleidoscope of white, gasping for air as waves of euphoria crash over you. Your body convulses in rhythmic spasms, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. It’s a symphony of sensation, leaving you utterly consumed by the intensity of pleasure, lost in a euphoric trance as your body dances to its own primal rhythm.

“Fucking hell, babe,” Jimin groans, his voice strained with the intensity of his impending release. You feel him still inside you, his body tensing with each pulsating wave of pleasure. Then, with an adorable scrunch of his nose, he reaches his climax. His grip on your leg tightens as he thrusts into you, his warm seed spilling within you. In that moment, you’re both lost in a haze of ecstasy, drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed, his chest heaving with each labored breath, the aftermath of passion evident in his flushed cheeks and glistening skin. With a soft chuckle, his hand finds its way to his stomach, just resting there.

“What’s so funny?” You turn your head toward him, your lips curving into a smile as you catch the playful glint in his eyes.

“You squirted, and we made such a mess,” he laughs, pulling himself closer to you again, his warmth enveloping you. “It was... hot,” he adds with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, his playful tone laced with affection and desire.

As you kiss him, you can’t ignore the sticky sensation between your legs, and it starts to feel slightly uncomfortable.

“I’ll clean you up babe, don’t worry,” he reassures, noticing the faint furrow on your brow, his voice tender and comforting.

He gets up from the bed, slips into his boxers and steps out of the bedroom. After a few moments, he returns, carrying a warm washcloth, a blush on his face and his eyes flickering with a mix of bashfulness and affection as he meets your gaze.

“Why’d it take you so long?” You groan, parting your legs to offer him easier access for cleaning.

He chuckles, his face flushing even more, “I met your sister, she said to keep it down next time.”

You sit up, a stern look etched on your face as you scoff, “Who is she to talk? She and your brother keep me up all night with their loud noises!”

He chuckles softly, drawing nearer to you on the bed, his fingertips dancing along the curves of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“Then we should just be louder, no?” He suggests playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes, though his cheeks remain flushed. His fingers hover tantalizingly close to your folds, teasing but not touching. Instead, he delicately applies the warm washcloth to your slick pussy, the comforting heat soothing against your sensitive skin. With careful motions, he begins to cleanse away the remnants of your shared passion, his touch gentle yet purposeful.

“Jimin, it’s not a competition. But we should totally do that next time,” you chuckle, enjoying the tender care he showers upon you in the aftermath. The gentle touch of the washcloth against your skin is soothing, and you bask in the intimacy of the moment. Despite the tasks waiting for your attention, Jimin’s unhurried ministrations make you want to linger a little longer in this tranquility.

As he completes his task, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your thighs, you rise from the bed, feeling a sense of contentment envelop you. Scanning the room for your belongings, you locate a pair of panties and slip them on, then reach for Jimin’s abandoned button-down shirt, relishing in the comforting warmth it offers as you slide it over your shoulders.

When you pivot to face him, adorned solely in the delicate lace of your panties and his oversized shirt, a low, guttural groan escapes Jimin’s lips, his gaze trailing over your silhouette. With a languid movement, he reclines on the bed, his expression a mix of desire and admiration.

In a playful tone, you announce, “I’ll just paint a bit and then we can head down and get breakfast. You lay back and enjoy the view.” With a sly grin, you tug the curtains open just enough, anticipating how the morning sunlight will caress your skin as you immerse yourself in your artistic pursuit.

Allowing the brush to dance freely on the canvas, you let your mind flow with the strokes, creating another abstract masterpiece adorned with vibrant red hues. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of Jimin reclining, wholly entranced by your artistic process, his gaze brimming with an unmistakable blend of affection and admiration.

Pausing mid-brushstroke, you shoot Jimin a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Like what you see?” You tease, the hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Jimin’s groan reverberates in the room, his voice laced with desire. “Yes. You look so fucking hot in my shirt and with the bottom of your ass peeking out, and your tits out like that… are you sure we have to work today?”

You can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound bubbling with warmth and affection. Oh, how tempting it is to lose yourself in the allure of Jimin. Yet, duty calls, and as much as you crave his touch, completing this painting beckons with its own urgency and the rest of your work later.

With a playful sway of your hips, you tease Jimin further, the brush in your hand an extension of your artistic vision. Each stroke brings you closer to completion, the canvas soon to be adorned with your creativity and passion.

“It’s not fair,” he chuckles, rolling out of bed to retrieve his pants, “I’d like my shirt back, though I must admit, it looks ten times better on you.” His playful banter carries a hint of sincerity, his eyes lingering on your form as if the shirt were an afterthought compared to the allure it lends you.

You chuckle mischievously, relishing in the moment as you turn around and let the garment cascade off your body in a slow, tantalizing motion. Jimin’s eyes widen in awe, captivated by your confident display. With a sly grin, you saunter over to your dresser, effortlessly commanding attention. Retrieving a bra and shirt, you dress yourself with effortless grace, leaving Jimin momentarily spellbound. As he picks up his shirt from the floor and dons it, the air crackles with the lingering electricity of your playful teasing.

“Let’s get breakfast and then head to work,” you suggest, crossing the room to Jimin, where you plant a tender kiss on his plush lips, lingering for just a moment to savor the touch of him.

Side by side, you descend the stairs, the anticipation of breakfast fueling your steps. Rushing through the meal, you devour your food with a sense of urgency, knowing that the day's responsibilities are already waiting impatiently for your attention.

With the morning sun casting a golden glow, you embark on your daily routine, starting with the tender care of the garden. Jimin joins you, his hands deftly plucking out weeds, his laughter mingling with the chirping of birds. Together, you gather the bounty of carrots, spinach, cabbage, and peas, the vibrant colors a testament to nature’s generosity. As the day progresses, you transition to the stables, the scent of hay and earth enveloping you. With practiced hands, you feed the cattle and horses, their eager whinnies and low rumbles a symphony of farm life. Loading up the pickup truck, you set off to tend to the animals in the paddocks, the rhythmic rumble of the engine accompanying your journey across the sprawling landscape.

“How does this thing work again?” You inquire, gripping the drill with determination. Both hands are occupied, grappling with the weight of the tool and the precision needed to secure the bolts just right. You’re on a mission to ensure every detail aligns perfectly, a blend of determination and mechanical finesse guiding your every move.

Jimin’s chuckle dances in the air beside you, his hand enveloping yours on the drill. “Let me show you,” he says, guiding your fingers to the trigger, igniting the powerful hum of the machine. “And if you don’t screw it in at a level, you can push this to make it reverse,” he continues, demonstrating the reverse function. His touch, warm and reassuring, sends a gentle thrill down your spine, mingling with the anticipation of mastering the task at hand.

He shifts his focus back to holding the wooden plank steady for you, ensuring a smooth process. With determined precision, you position the bolt and wield the drill, its power humming to life as you secure the bolt in place. Success! The satisfying click of the bolt settling in sends a surge of accomplishment through you both.

Grinning, you glance at him, exhilarated by the teamwork, “This is actually fun.” With newfound enthusiasm, you reach for another screw, eager to continue the satisfying rhythm of progress.

Jimin’s eyes light up with genuine delight, his smile spreading warmth, “My babe with power tools. Absolutely love it.”

Together, you and Jimin finally tackle the long-awaited project of assembling the shed you'd spent months gathering wood for. Despite his initial plans to complete it sooner, life seemed to intervene, leaving the project on hold. But now, as you both hammer and drill, laughter fills the air, mingling with the satisfaction of progress. Working side by side, you relish the closeness and love, finding joy in shared achievements and the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

For months now, life has been a whirlwind of joy and contentment, leaving you with a constant flutter of butterflies in your stomach and a perpetual grin adorning your face. Even your sister, with her keen eye, has teased you about looking like a lovesick fool. But can you blame her? You’ve finally found everything you’ve ever yearned for: the warmth of family, a place to call home, and the embrace of the one you love more than words can express.

Startled by Yoongi’s sudden presence behind you, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a gentle breeze, you turn to find him standing there, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Can you lend me a hand down in the pen?” he asks, his tone carrying a hint of urgency that you can’t ignore.

When you fully face Yoongi, you notice the subtle glow on his face, a telltale sign that things with Hoseok must be going swimmingly. It warms your heart to see him so content, and in turn, fills you with joy. “Sure thing, just give me a moment,” you reply with a smile, ready to assist him with whatever task he needs help with in the pen.

Jimin’s affirmative nod accompanies a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting understanding and support. “I can handle the rest, love. Go lend Yoon a hand,” he says, his tone brimming with reassurance and affection.

You pass the drill to Jimin with a quick exchange, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of warmth through you. Following Yoongi’s urgent call, you head down to the pen, where the sight of a spirited horse galloping about greets you, its untamed energy palpable in the air.

“What do you need help with?” You inquire, arching an eyebrow in curiosity, ready to assist Yoongi with whatever challenge he's facing in the pen.

Yoongi’s voice carries a hint of desperation as he explains the mare's skittish behavior. You notice the weariness etched on his face, his energy drained from his futile attempts to coax the horse. “Could you give it a shot? See if she responds to you?” he pleads, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion, revealing just how long he's been grappling with the elusive mare.

“Yeah I’ll give it a shot,” with a confident smile, you accept the challenge. Carefully climbing over the fence, you land softly on the sand, your boots sinking slightly into the ground. As you approach the mare, her wild movements seem to echo the chaos in her mind. Standing in the center of the pen, you observe her graceful gallop, realizing she's in a world all her own. Patience becomes your ally as you wait, understanding that time is your greatest asset in this endeavor.

Lost in the mesmerizing rhythm of the mare’s movements, time becomes elusive, and a sense of dizziness begins to swirl within you. As you watch her graceful strides, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the passage of moments slipping away unnoticed.

As the mare continues her captivating dance, your attention wanders to Yoongi, realizing you’ve been standing idle for what feels like an eternity. “How are the other horses doing?” You inquire, your voice carrying a hint of fatigue from the prolonged stillness.

A soft chuckle escapes Yoongi’s lips before he responds, “They’re doing fine. We actually got another one picked up yesterday.”

You flash a warm smile, your voice laced with genuine regret. “That’s great news. Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Your heart swells with pride at the thriving success of your shared venture. “But I’m thrilled about how smoothly things are going. We’ve moved so many wild horses into new roles as stock horses.”

A sudden force jolts against your back, sending you stumbling forward, your heart racing as you struggle to regain your balance.

A radiant smile illuminates Yoongi’s face, brimming with pride and joy. “You did it!” he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine excitement and admiration.

As you pivot, your eyes meet the gentle gaze of the wild mare, standing before you with humility in her stance, her head lowered in submission. A soft whine escapes her lips, a sign of acknowledgment. Tenderly, you extend your hand, brushing it gently against her head. “Good girl,” you murmur, feeling a surge of connection and triumph in the air.

“You’re amazing. Thank you so much. I’ve been struggling with her for hours, making no progress,” he expresses, weariness evident in his tone as he perches atop the fence. “I’ll take her to the stables. She’s been out for too long; she deserves some rest. And you, you should rest too. Thank you once again.” With a grateful smile, he leaps down into the pen, effortlessly guiding the mare back to the stables without the aid of halter or rope.

“No problem,” you reply, stepping out of the pen and heading towards the main house. The day is winding down, and you’re hopeful that Jimin has prepared dinner that you can enjoy together.

As you open the door, the tantalizing aroma of home-cooked goodness envelops you, instantly awakening your senses. The savory scent beckons you forward, drawing you into the warm embrace of familiarity and comfort. With eager anticipation, you make your way into the living room, where Jimin lounges on the couch, adding to the cozy atmosphere with his relaxed presence.

“Did you finish work?” He inquires, tearing his gaze away from the mindless chatter on the TV, his eyes lighting up as they meet yours.

“Yeah, and I’m starving. Did you whip something up?” you inquire eagerly, closing the distance between you and him with each step.

“Yeah, it’s in the oven,” he responds, his fingers intertwining with yours as soon as you’re within his reach, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Didn’t you already eat?” you ask, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice, your eyebrows arching slightly as you await his response.

“No, I was waiting for you,” he says, his smile warm and genuine, eyes sparkling with affection as he gazes at you.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t have to, but we can eat together now,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of sadness and affection, “come.”

You coax him up from the couch, intertwining your fingers as you head into the kitchen to uncover the delicious meal he’s prepared. The flavors dance on your taste buds, a testament to his culinary skill. Amidst bites and laughter, you savor the intimacy, sneaking playful touches and caresses, entwining your legs beneath the table, deepening the love between you.

“Long day?” he asks, his voice soft with concern as his foot finds yours under the table, the gentle pressure of his touch sending a tingling sensation up your leg, a subtle reassurance in his gesture.

“Yeah. I’m so sore and tired. You?” you ask, sinking deeper into your seat, the weariness evident in your voice as you release a heavy sigh, your body yearning for the comfort of relaxation.

“Me too,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion as he stretches his body, a silent testament to the day’s wear and tear. “What do you say… if you clean up in the kitchen, I’ll make a bath for us in the tub?” His offer, infused with a touch of intimacy and care, promises a soothing respite from the day’s toils.

Your eyes sparkle with anticipation at the mention of the tub. The thought of sinking into its welcoming depths has been a quiet longing in your mind for so long, and now, the prospect of finally indulging in its comforting embrace fills you with eager anticipation. The promise of soaking away the day's stresses in warm, soothing water feels like a luxurious treat, beckoning you towards a moment of serene relaxation.

“Deal,” you respond with a hint of eagerness, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. His laughter fills the room, accompanied by the soft warmth of his affectionate gaze, reminding you once again of the deep bond you share.

With a swift nod, you rise from the table, eager to fulfill your end of the bargain. The prospect of sinking into a warm bath lures you into action, and you quickly set to work clearing the table and storing the leftovers. Meanwhile, you delegate the task of drawing the bath to Jimin, trusting in his ability to create the perfect oasis of relaxation.

“Hey babe! Do you want some wine?” Your voice carries from the kitchen, punctuated by the clinking of dishes nearing completion.

“Yeah, sure!” Jimin’s response echoes from the bathroom, filled with anticipation for the cozy evening ahead.

As you open the cabinet, your eyes catch the glint of a bottle of rich red wine tucked away. With a soft pop, the cork relinquishes its hold, releasing the tantalizing aroma of aged grapes. Carefully, you select two delicate glasses, pouring a generous amount into each. The anticipation of sinking into the warm embrace of the bath, wine in hand, fills you with an unexpected giddiness, turning a simple soak into a moment of luxurious indulgence.

You enter the bathroom, and the soft glow of candlelight dances across the walls, casting an enchanting aura over the otherwise dark room. Your breath catches as you take in the sight before you: the bath, filled to just over halfway, exudes inviting warmth, while Jimin stands before you, his form illuminated by the flickering flames, his nakedness a captivating sight. The glasses of wine tremble slightly in your grasp as you carefully set them down beside the tub, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of nervous excitement.

Jimin’s allure is undeniable, his presence commanding attention as you step closer to him. His complexion, a velvety blend of creamy hues, emanates warmth beneath the soft glow of candlelight, accentuating the rugged beauty of his form. Your fingers trace the contours of his sturdy pectorals, reveling in the strength they exude. “You look like pure sin,” you murmur, unable to resist the temptation that radiates from every inch of his being.

His laughter fills the room, a melodic accompaniment to the gentle caress of your hands on his chest. As you lean in to kiss him, the warmth of his lips against yours ignites a fire within. “I better get naked too,” you jest, your voice laced with anticipation and a hint of playful mischief.

With eager hands and shared anticipation, you shed your clothes in a flurry of desire. As Jimin assists in revealing your body, he helps pull your shirt off your body. He unclasps your bra and lets it fall to the floor, which makes his breath catch at the sight of your breasts, a primal reaction that ignites a hunger within him. With each garment that falls away, the space between you crackles with an electric tension, building toward the moment when you stand before him, naked and unapologetically yourself, basking in the raw intensity of the moment.

Like magnets drawn together, your bodies intertwine in a passionate embrace, igniting a fiery exchange of kisses that speak volumes in the language of desire. As your lips meet in a fervent dance, you sense the primal response coursing through him, evidenced by the subtle quiver of his dick beneath your touch. With a tender stroke of your hand, you coax forth a soft, involuntary moan.

“Let’s get in,” he urges, his hand enveloping yours as he guides you toward the inviting embrace of the tub. With graceful ease, he eases himself into the warm, welcoming waters, settling against the back while you follow suit, finding your place nestled in the curve of his lap. As you lower yourself into the tranquil depths, the subtle pressure of his dick against your back sends a playful shiver down your spine, eliciting a soft chuckle to escape your lips. The gentle caress of the soothing water envelops your skin, melting away the tensions of the day, cocooning you both in a blissful sanctuary of relaxation.

“Do you like it?” He inquires softly, his fingers expertly tracing soothing circles over your shoulders, coaxing out the tension that had been knotted within your muscles. With each knead and stroke, a contented sigh escapes your lips, a testament to the sheer bliss of his touch.

“I love it,” you murmur, surrendering completely to the sensations coursing through your body as his skilled hands work their magic. With a satisfied smile, you reach for your glass of wine, the cool liquid adding another layer of indulgence to the moment. Placing the glass back on the table, you sink deeper into the warmth of the bath, letting Jimin’s fingers weave their spell over your back, melting away every ounce of stress.

It’s an exquisite sensation, one that sends shivers down your spine as his hands glide from your shoulders to the front, delicately caressing your breasts. The moment his fingers encircle your nipples, your eyes flutter open, a soft gasp escaping your lips, betraying the sheer pleasure coursing through you. His touch ignites an urgent longing within you, echoed by the telltale twitch of his dick pressed against your back.

His touch becomes more fervent, his fingers skillfully rolling your nipples between them, sending waves of sensation coursing through your body. As his lips find the sensitive skin of your shoulder, his bite is both tender and teasing, perfectly complementing the tugs and pinches of his fingers.

Within moments, a surge of arousal floods your senses, igniting a fiery desire deep within your core. Each breath comes quicker, matching the rapid pace of your escalating lust.

As his skilled fingers work your nipples, you arch your back, pressing into his touch, the sensation sparking through your body like wildfire. It’s almost overwhelming how good it feels, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of your being.

You lean back into his chest, letting your head rest beside his, and he teases your nipples, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body. “Jimin, fuck—” you moan, the intensity of sensation almost too much to bear.

He hums softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers of lust down your spine. As he nibbles on your earlobe, a rush of desire floods through you, igniting every nerve ending with longing.

“What do you need baby?” His voice, a velvety whisper in your ear, sends a surge of heat coursing through your veins. As you roll your hips into his, seeking closer contact, the air between you crackles with electricity, fueling the flames of desire.

“I need you Jimin,” you gasp, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of desire that consumes every fiber of your being.

“You have to be more specific babe,” he breathes in your ear, while one of his hands travels down, “Do you want me to touch you here?” He asks, his fingers hovering just above your clit.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you bite down on your lip, the anticipation building as you part your legs further. “Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice laced with need and desire, your body trembling with anticipation for his touch.

As his fingers trace delicate patterns over your clit, you gasp at the gentle touch, every stroke sending shivers of pleasure through your body. With each soft moan that escapes your lips, his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers pressing down with increasing urgency, driving you to the brink of ecstasy real fast.

“Jimin!” You pant, your voice a breathless plea as the sensation intensifies, sending a surge of heat coursing through your veins. Your thighs quiver with anticipation, a tidal wave of pleasure building deep within your core, threatening to overwhelm you in its euphoric embrace.

“Are you gonna come so fast?” His taunt sends a delicious shiver down your spine, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. Despite the teasing, you find yourself powerless against the intoxicating allure of his touch. You know it’s pathetic how fast your body unravels for him, but you can’t help it.

“Your hands are so good, I can’t help it,” you gasp against the sensitive skin of his throat, fingers gripping the edge of the tub for leverage. Every touch from him feels like an electric current, igniting sensations that leave you breathless. As the tension inside you reaches its breaking point, you surrender completely to the blissful release washing over you.

As the waves of ecstasy surge through you, you surrender to the primal rhythm of your body, yielding to the intoxicating sensations ignited by Jimin’s touch. With every nerve on fire and every muscle tensed, you gasp for precious air, your head finding solace in the comforting curve of Jimin’s neck. “Jimin, I…” you whisper breathlessly, words catching in the throes of pleasure.

He nestles his head closer to yours, his warm breath brushing against your skin. “What is it, babe?” he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing melody.

Your body quivers under his skillful touch, a symphony of sensations coursing through you as he continues to tease your nipples and caress your clit.

“I want to fuck you and for you to fill me up,” you murmur, your voice laden with desire, as you press yourself against him once more.

“Fuck, yeah,” he gasps, urgency lacing his voice as he withdraws his hands from your sensitive nipples and clit, firmly gripping your hips with a hunger that mirrors your own.

You lift yourself up, the anticipation electrifying every nerve as you easily find his dick and slide down on it. “Oh, fuck!” The words escape your lips in a gasp of pleasure as he effortlessly fills you, stretching you to the brink from the very first inch.

With his firm grip, he guides your movements, each thrust a symphony of desire and need as you ride him, fucking yourself on his cock.

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, “So pretty, baby,” before tenderly pressing his lips to the delicate curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

You tighten your grip on the tub’s edge, seeking leverage, as you rise and descend in slow, tantalizing motions. With each movement, water splashes out.. “Looks like you overfilled it,” you pant, a breathless admission, met with a soft chuckle from him.

As he peppers you with kisses, you strive to maintain your rhythm, riding him with all your passion. Yet, despite your efforts, fatigue begins to set in, and the discomfort in your knees becomes increasingly noticeable. This position, once thrilling, now feels taxing and hurting.

“Babe, my knees are hurting,” you plead, reluctantly pulling yourself off him altogether.

“Come, turn around then. I’m sorry,” he suggests, his tone apologetic as he shifts deeper into the tub, creating space in the middle. You turn around and comply, straddling his lap. As he effortlessly enters you once more, a soft moan escapes your lips, reverberating through the intimate space as he resumes his rhythmic thrusts.

“This is so much better,” you murmur, intertwining your legs and arms around his body. “And I love being able to see your face.”

With a chuckle, he leans in to tenderly kiss your lips, igniting a passionate rhythm as he thrusts up into you. Meeting his movements eagerly, you ride his cock with abandon, the water swirling around you in a sensual dance as the wine long forgotten.

You sense him pulsing within you, sending tremors of pleasure through your core, as your inner muscles start to contract in anticipation of another climax.

“Just let go baby,” he murmurs huskily into your ear, his every movement igniting a wildfire of ecstasy within you. You echo a breathless rendition of his name as your essence cascades around him. Clinging to him desperately, you surrender to the torrent of sensations as he intensifies his thrusts, sending waves of passion crashing through the water.

“Shit, Jimin, are you gonna come too?” You gasp, feeling his urgency mounting with each thrust of his dick, until he finally succumbs with a fervent moan, filling you with his essence and with a groan of your name.

You press your lips to his, savoring the sweet taste of him as you both stay still in the water, letting your orgasms wash over you. Feeling his warmth enveloping you, you start to gently rock your hips, coaxing another shiver from him, lost in the lingering sensations of bliss.

“Babe, it’s too much,” his breath comes in ragged gasps, his hands gently restraining your fervent motions. Looking into his eyes, you’re met with a torrent of desire, the heat of his gaze mirroring the flush that paints his cheeks.

“Let me wash you up and take care of you,” his voice, a soft whisper against your ear, promises comfort as he retrieves the soap, its fragrance mingling with the warmth of the water. With practiced hands, he massages the lather onto your back, each stroke a tender caress that elicits a contented moan from your lips.

You let him massage you with the soap all over your body, all while he stays deep inside your pussy. Occasionally you feel the twitch of his dick and you realize he hasn’t gone fully soft yet, and now you can just feel him getting harder again.

He washes the soap off your body and you feel so nice, so cleaned and cared for.

“I want to return the favor,” you say, a soft smile gracing your lips as fatigue begins to settle in. Despite the weariness weighing on your body, the desire to care for your boyfriend burns brightly within you, compelling you to offer this small gesture of love.

You slide off his lap and reach for the soap, lathering it in your palms before trailing your hands over his body, mirroring the care he bestowed upon you. With each stroke, he emits soft moans of pleasure, surrendering to the sensation of your touch. His physique is a masterpiece of strength and grace, every muscle defined under your fingertips. As you work your way across his body, his biceps bulge with strength, his abdominals ripple beneath your touch, and he melts into your hands like pliable clay, yielding to your every caress.

“Babe, this is so nice,” his voice, a husky whisper, caresses your ears as he savors the sensation, lost in the bliss of your ministrations. With a tender smile, you rinse away the soap, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Drawn to him like a magnet, you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss filled with affection and desire.

“This was such a good idea, Jimin. I loved it and I love you,” with a contented sigh, you express your gratitude, nestling into his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight flickers around you, casting playful shadows as you lean in for another lingering kiss, sealing your words with an affectionate embrace.

“Yeah. I love you too.” His voice, filled with warmth and sincerity, reverberates through the room as he gazes into your eyes, where he finds solace and home. In that moment, he realizes the depth of his feelings, the unspoken promises whispered between your shared glances. Perhaps it’s time to let the symbol of his devotion, the ring he’s carried for months, find its rightful place on your finger.

You linger in the embrace of the warm water, savoring the intimacy shared in those precious moments, until the realization of time nudges you both back to reality. Reluctantly, you rise from the soothing depths, cocooned in the lingering affection of the bath. With gentle care, you tenderly dry each other off, the soft caress of the towels becoming a silent exchange of love and tenderness.

The comfort of spending the night at Jimin’s embraces you like a warm blanket, lingering even as the morning unfolds into a delightful breakfast shared together. With hearts light and minds focused, you dive into the tasks of the day, knowing that the warmth of your shared moments will linger like a sweet whisper in the air.

The gentle breeze caresses your skin, carrying the scent of blooming flowers, while the sun bathes everything in a golden glow, infusing you with an invigorating energy that seems boundless. In this moment, with the world painted in hues of warmth and possibility, you feel an unstoppable surge of euphoria coursing through you, propelling you forward on the wings of boundless optimism.

You’re idly gazing out the window when the distant rumble of an approaching car catches your attention. As it draws nearer, a sense of unease prickles at the edges of your consciousness. Then, recognition dawns like a lightning bolt striking through the air. It's Deiji’s car— Jimin’s ex. The sight sends a ripple of uncertainty coursing through you, stirring up a flurry of thoughts and emotions.

As you watch the car pull up, curiosity interlaces with a thread of apprehension. You feel compelled to step out into the yard, a sense of obligation mingling with a twinge of discomfort. Greeting her with forced politeness, you battle the tide of memories that surge forth with her presence. It’s not that you hold anything against her personally, but her arrival serves as a stark reminder of a painful chapter— a time when Jimin's silence cut deeper than words.

You step into the sunlight, its warmth caresses your skin, momentarily blinding you as you squint against its brilliance. Deiji emerges from her car, her form obscured by the glare, until you draw nearer and discern the telltale curve of her belly.

Pregnant.

The realization washes over you, mingling with a spectrum of emotions, from surprise to a begrudging twinge of hurt. Good for her, you think, though beneath the surface, a ripple of complex feelings threatens to surface.

“Hey,” Deiji greets you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes as you draw nearer. “Is Jimin around? I really need to talk to him.”

You nod in acknowledgment. “He’s inside,” you reply, gesturing towards the house.

“Cool,” she replies, her voice tinged with a hint of discomfort, her hand instinctively cradling her swollen belly. With a slight waddle, she makes her way towards the house. You follow closely, holding the door open to usher her inside.

As you step into the house, you find Jimin, who’s visibly taken aback by Deiji’s unexpected presence beside you.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin’s voice is tense, his gaze flicking towards the elephant in the room: her swollen belly.

As she gently caresses her belly, her words hang heavy in the air. “I came to tell you something,” she begins, her voice trembling slightly. “This baby... it’s yours.”

Your jaw practically hits the floor, and you can feel your heart somersaulting in your chest, threatening to burst out like a cartoon character. Glancing at Jimin, you see his shock mirrored in his wide-eyed expression, a reflection of your own disbelief.

“But we used a condom?” He blurts out, the disbelief and irritation palpable in his voice. It's as if he's trying to grasp at any rational explanation for the bombshell Deiji just dropped, his tone a mix of incredulity and denial.

“You know, sometimes accidents happen…” She utters those words with an infuriating calmness, her hand caressing her belly once more, a gesture that grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Every fiber of your being rebels against the notion that she’s carrying Jimin’s child. It feels surreal, like a nightmare you can’t wake up from, as if the ground beneath your feet is shifting and you’re teetering on the edge of a dizzying precipice. In the midst of your own tumultuous emotions, you can’t help but wonder what Jimin is feeling, how he’s processing this bombshell that threatens to upend your world.

Jimin stands before you, an image of stunned disbelief etched into every line of his face.

“And you came here for what, money?” Jimin’s voice trembles slightly, his words laced with a mix of anger and confusion.

A peculiar mix of emotions swirls within you, a tumultuous blend of anger and sadness that leaves you feeling unsettled.

“No. I just wanted to let you know. I know how important family is to you,” she starts, her voice tinged with sincerity as she settles onto a nearby stool.

You’re still standing there, dumbstruck, your emotions swirling like a turbulent storm. Deiji’s words echo in your mind. Jimin values family. Could it be that he wants to be a part of this child’s life?

“Can we get a paternity test, I’d like to be sure, if you don’t mind?” His voice quivers with uncertainty, his gaze flickering between Deiji and you. Despite the tremor in his voice, there’s a glimmer in his eyes, a hint of hope. You can sense it, that if this child is indeed his, he’s ready to embrace it. You just know.

Despite having rarely broached the topic of children and family, you’ve been unequivocal about your stance: kids aren’t part of your immediate plans, perhaps not even in the distant future. Yet, as you observe Jimin’s gaze, tinged with uncertainty, it's evident he’s treading carefully, mindful of your feelings.

“Yes, we can do a paternity test,” she responds, her hand instinctively drifting to her swollen belly once more, a gesture that feels almost possessive.

Jimin exhales deeply, his frustration palpable. “If this child is indeed mine,” he begins, his voice tinged with both uncertainty and a glimmer of resolve, “I want to be involved. I want to be there for them.”

His words hit you like shards of glass, each one piercing deeper than the last. You anticipated his decision, yet the reality of it cuts through you, leaving a raw ache in your chest.

“Great,” she replies with a smirk playing on her lips, as if she’s just achieved her ultimate goal with ease, leaving you feeling like a pawn in her twisted game.

Jimin scratches his head, a nervous habit you’ve noticed before, and turns to you, his expression torn between concern and uncertainty. You find it hard to meet his gaze, your own emotions swirling in a tumultuous storm. This situation feels overwhelming, like a weight you’re not prepared to bear. You're not ready to take on the role of someone's stepmother, to navigate the complexities of raising a child. It's all too much, too soon, and you're not sure how to process it all.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she says, her tone dripping with faux innocence. As she looks between you, her eyes betray a subtle flicker of mischief. Even through the haze of your sadness, you can’t help but notice it, prompting a flicker of suspicion. What could she possibly be up to?

You’re enveloped in a storm of emotions, each one crashing against you with relentless force. This isn’t how it’s supposed to unfold, not in the grand narrative of your life. It feels like the carefully crafted script has been torn apart, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and dismay.

As Deiji departs, she leaves behind a lingering tension, promising to return with the verdict of the paternity test. In her wake, she leaves you and Jimin standing amidst the shattered remnants of what was once your certainty, the world around you now feeling as if it’s tilted on an unfamiliar axis.

In the abrupt aftermath of Deiji’s revelation, it’s as if an unbridgeable chasm has opened up between you and Jimin, leaving you stranded in a silence fraught with uncertainty. Each passing moment stretches like an eternity, filled with the weight of unspoken words and uncharted emotions, leaving you grappling for the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry,” as the tension hangs heavy in the air, Jimin’s voice breaks through the silence like a fragile whisper, laden with the weight of regret and uncertainty. His hand finds yours, offering a gentle reassurance amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions swirling around you both.

A cold numbness settles over you like a heavy shroud, dulling your senses to the world around you, even to the touch of Jimin’s hand clasping yours. Words elude you as you meet his gaze, lost in the hollow void of your own emotions, feeling hollow and devoid of purpose.

“It’s… okay. I know how important family is to you,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, drained of its usual warmth and vitality. Each word feels heavy on your tongue, laden with the weight of resignation and sorrow. You force a semblance of understanding into your tone, masking the turmoil brewing within. Yet, beneath the surface, you’re crumbling, feeling like a mere echo of yourself, hollowed out and devoid of the vibrant spirit you once possessed.

“Do you think we can do this?” he implores, his gaze probing yours with a desperate intensity, as if seeking a lifeline in the depths of your soul. Yet, you can’t meet his eyes fully, for fear that he’ll uncover the barren expanse where hope once flourished. In the silence that follows, the weight of uncertainty hangs heavy between you, casting a shadow over any flicker of optimism that might have remained.

“I...,” you start, your voice quivering with emotion as tears threaten to spill from your eyes and your throat constricts with the weight of unspoken fears.

“I don’t know,” you finally admit, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog, obscuring any clarity or certainty that might have once existed.

After about a week, Deiji returned with the results of the paternity test, confirming that the child was indeed Jimin’s. It felt as though the ground had shifted beneath your feet once more, leaving you reeling in the aftershocks of this irrevocable revelation.

Since then, you’ve thrown yourself into anything and everything to keep busy, desperate to avoid encountering Deiji altogether. But it seems like she’s practically moved into Jimin's place, and every time you catch a glimpse of them together, it's like a knife twisting in your gut. They’re playing house, oblivious to the turmoil they’ve caused you, and it's tearing you apart inside.

Jimin has been making an effort to keep you in the loop, updating you on the baby’s progress. He tells you that Deiji is now seven months pregnant, and it’s a girl. But with each piece of news, it’s like a dagger to your heart. Part of you doesn’t want to hear it anymore because it’s a constant reminder of the life you never signed up for, the pain you never asked to endure.

It’s not entirely Jimin’s fault; accidents can happen even with precautions. He’s made sincere efforts to include you, but despite his attempts, you can’t shake off the growing chasm between you. It’s like watching two continents slowly drift apart, unable to bridge the gap that keeps widening with each passing day.

Every time Deiji crosses your path, she exudes an aura of radiance, almost as if she's dipped in the fabled glow of pregnancy. You can’t help but notice the adoring glances she casts at Jimin, the lingering touches that seem to extend beyond mere familiarity. It's a bitter pill to swallow, witnessing these subtle gestures, and you wonder if Jimin perceives them as you do. Yet, you’ve kept your silence, letting the unspoken tensions simmer beneath the surface.

Confronting Jimin feels like stepping into a storm, knowing the tempest of emotions brewing within you. It's a conversation you know you should have, to lay bare the tumultuous whirlwind of feelings raging inside. Yet, the words stick in your throat, heavy with uncertainty and fear. How do you articulate the overwhelming doubt, the gnawing apprehension that this path isn't meant for you?

The thought of navigating this intricate web of emotions with Jimin and Deiji looming in the background feels suffocating, like grappling with shadows that threaten to swallow you whole.

The prospect of parenthood is daunting enough on its own, a weighty responsibility you don’t feel prepared to shoulder. Yet, the thought of co-parenting with another woman adds a layer of complexity you can scarcely fathom. While you acknowledge that blended families are a reality for many, you struggle to envision it as your own. The mere idea of navigating this uncharted territory feels like venturing into a labyrinth with no clear path forward, leaving you grappling with uncertainty and a profound sense of unease.

The green-eyed monster rears its head within you, its claws sinking deep into your heart every time you witness Deiji’s presence beside your boyfriend. Watching her cozy up to him feels like an intrusion, a relentless assault on the sanctuary of your relationship. With each stolen glance and tender touch, it's as if she’s encroaching on sacred ground, threatening to snatch him away from the haven of your love.

You’ve been drifting apart from Jimin, caught in a whirlwind of avoidance and busy distractions. Despite his efforts to reach out and bridge the growing chasm between you, you’ve been hesitant, grappling with conflicting emotions. However, when he extends the invitation, promising to cook for you, you find yourself unable to resist the pull any longer. It’s a chance to reconnect, to confront the mounting tension between you, even if it means braving the storm of uncertainty that awaits.

As you pull into the familiar driveway of his ranch, the weight in your chest seems to grow heavier with each passing second. Dread coils around your heart like a suffocating vine, yet you know deep down that this conversation, however daunting, is inevitable. You sit in the car for a moment, grappling with the turmoil within, torn between the comfort of avoidance and the necessity of facing the truth head-on. With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for what lies ahead and step out into the uncertain terrain of your emotions.

As you swing the door open, a tantalizing aroma envelops you, weaving its way through the air and tickling your senses. Stepping into the kitchen, your eyes meet Jimin’s, and though he greets you with open arms and a warm embrace, the sweetness of his gesture fails to penetrate the thick fog of your unease. His lips press against yours in a tender kiss, but the connection feels hollow, as if the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you.

With a gentle gesture, he pulls out the stool for you, a silent invitation to join him. As you settle onto the seat, your gaze falls upon the meticulously arranged plate of food before you. Despite the rumbling of hunger in your stomach, an invisible barrier seems to stand between you and the meal, rendering it unappetizing despite its savory allure.

“How are you doing, babe?” He inquires, settling into the chair opposite you. With a tender gesture, he reaches for the water pitcher, his eyes never leaving yours as he fills your glass, a silent act of care amidst the weight of unspoken emotions.

Your gaze remains fixed on the plate before you, yet your mind races like a frantic symphony, each thought clamoring for attention amidst the chaos. Your heart quickens its pace within your chest, a drumbeat of apprehension echoing in the silence. Your palms grow clammy with the weight of unspoken words, and your head spins with the tumult of emotions swirling within.

“Babe?” His voice, soft yet insistent, pulls you from the depths of your swirling thoughts. Leaning in, his eyes search yours, brimming with concern, a silent plea for understanding in the midst of your internal storm.

“I...,” your voice falters, tears threatening to spill anew, a familiar ache settling in your chest. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” the words tumble out, heavy with the weight of uncertainty and fear. As you speak, each syllable feels like a burden, your body tensing, constricted by the weight of your emotions. It’s as if your heart is trapped, pounding relentlessly against the confines of your ribs, suffocating in the tightness of the moment, each breath a struggle against invisible restraints.

“What do you mean?” His voice carries the weight of concern, etched with worry lines that deepen with each passing second. His eyes, a mirror to his troubled mind, search yours for answers, pleading for clarity amidst the fog of uncertainty.

“It’s tearing me apart, Jimin,” you confess, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to escape the weight of your emotions. “Seeing you and Deiji together, it’s like a constant reminder of what I’m not ready for. I can’t handle it—I’m not prepared to step into that role, especially not with someone else’s child.” The heaviness in your chest threatens to suffocate you, each syllable a battle against the turmoil within.

Despite the softness in his gaze, your mind is too consumed by turmoil to fully register it. “I’m sorry, babe,” Jimin murmurs, his voice laced with genuine concern, but it feels distant, overshadowed by the weight of your confession.

His words, though well-meaning, falter as they leave his lips, carrying a hint of uncertainty that mirrors your own inner turmoil. “I’ve been trying to include you in everything... it’s going to be alright. I think we can do it together,” Jimin says, his voice wavering slightly, echoing the uncertainty that looms over your shared future.

With a heavy heart and trembling resolve, you muster the courage to speak your truth. “That hasn’t really helped me... and,” you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words to come, “I want to break up.” As the weight of your decision hangs in the air, you can almost hear the echoes of your heartbeat, each pulse a reminder of the profound shift unfolding between you.

His face registers the shock of your words, a flicker of hurt crossing his features as though caught off guard by the abruptness of your revelation. The surprise in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent testament to his obliviousness to the silent turmoil brewing beneath the surface for weeks. Amidst the whirlwind of impending fatherhood, perhaps your distress remained invisible, eclipsed by the overwhelming anticipation of a new chapter. It’s a bitter realization, yet you find no solace in casting blame; after all, his preoccupation was understandable given the circumstances.

His words tremble with uncertainty, mirroring the quiver in his voice that betrays a vulnerability you hadn’t fully anticipated. As his gaze meets yours, laden with a blend of confusion and desperation, you grasp the gravity of your decision. His untouched meal sits forgotten, a testament to the weight of your revelation. “You... you want to break up with me?” The question hangs heavy in the air, laced with a rawness that pierces through the silence. “I don’t want us to break up. I love you.” Yet, amidst the turmoil, his declaration of love resonates, a fragile plea tethered to the hope of salvaging what remains of your bond.

With a silent nod, you feel the lump in your throat constricting, stifling the words that threaten to spill forth, and tears blur your vision like unbidden raindrops on a windowpane.

“But I can’t do this anymore, Jimin. I love you deeply, I really do. But this… it hurts me so much, I can’t take it,” you express, your fingertips tracing a path along your arm as tears carve rivulets down your cheeks, your voice quivering with emotion and your breath hitching with each sniffle.

“Babe, I’m truly sorry. I had no idea you were carrying this weight and feeling like this,” his voice drips with sorrow, each word heavy with remorse, and it only amplifies the ache in your chest, pulling you deeper into the vortex of sadness.

“It’s okay. I should have talked to you sooner, it’s just been so hard. A lot has happened and you’re going to be a father and that’s great!” You force enthusiasm into your voice, the artificiality of it chafing against your soul, leaving a bitter aftertaste that lingers uncomfortably.

A furrow deepens upon his brow, betraying the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. His lips, usually so quick to speak, now maintain an uneasy silence, concealing the torrent of thoughts and feelings poised to spill forth.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you reiterate, sensing a fleeting calm settle over your racing heart.

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads, his voice cracking, tears glistening in his eyes. It’s agonizing. You tighten your grip, desperately searching for any semblance of resolve.

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” you say, trying to hold firm, though every word feels like a jagged shard piercing your heart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” his voice barely audible, almost drowned in the weight of the moment, “then I... I understand.”

“It is,” you respond, the finality of your decision echoing in the stillness of the room.

Tears cascade down both your cheeks, reflecting the pain and sorrow shared between you. With a heavy heart, you rise from the stool, your voice quivering with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Jimin.”

His gaze averts from yours, perhaps overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. You share the sentiment; the intensity is almost suffocating, tears obscuring your vision like a torrential downpour.

“Thank you for dinner. I’m sorry I couldn’t eat, and I’m sorry it had to end like this,” you manage through tears as you step out of the house. Each word feels like a boulder on your chest, weighing you down with the enormity of the situation. Behind you, Jimin’s sobs echo in the air, tugging at the fraying edges of your resolve. You yearn to turn back, to embrace him, and promise that somehow, everything will be alright. But deep down, you know that this pain is inevitable, and your heart, already fractured, can’t bear any more.

As you park your car at home, the weight of the evening’s emotional storm presses down upon you. Tears blur your vision as you lean back in your seat, surrendering momentarily to the overwhelming tide of sadness. Suddenly, a soft knock on your window breaks through the solitude. Startled, you glance over to find your sister standing there, her concerned eyes peering in through the glass, offering a glimmer of solace in the darkness of your despair.

You attempt to staunch the flow of tears with the rough fabric of your sleeve, and you take a deep breath and gather your courage before opening the door and stepping out into the cool night air.

Her eyes widen with concern, scanning your face for clues to the turmoil within. “What happened?” she asks, her voice laced with apprehension, mirroring the anxious furrow of her brow.

You collapse into her embrace, tears flowing freely as you surrender to the weight of your emotions. “I broke up with Jimin,” you confess, your voice choking with sorrow and regret.

She envelops you in a comforting embrace, whispering soothing words into your ear as her gentle hand traces comforting circles on your trembling back, offering solace in the warmth of her presence.

The solace she offers feels like a balm to your wounded soul, a fleeting moment of respite amidst the storm of emotions raging within you.

As she absorbs your tears with her embrace, she gently queries, “Why did you break up with him?” Her voice carries a blend of concern and curiosity, inviting you to share the weight of your heartache.

Amidst your tears and sniffles, you pour out your heart, “I don’t want kids and I can’t be in a relationship with Jimin and Deiji, because she’ll always be there now.” The weight of your words carries the burden of your decision, punctuating the depth of your emotional turmoil.

With gentle reassurance, she guides you across the yard, her comforting touch a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. Though your steps falter, you find solace in her presence as she leads you back into the sanctuary of the house, your tears mingling with the memories of what once was.

“I’m so sorry,” with heartfelt sincerity, she utters words of empathy, her voice a soothing balm to your wounded spirit. As you both settle onto the familiar embrace of the couch in the living room, she enfolds you in her arms once more, offering solace in the warmth of her embrace.

“Me too,” you manage between choked sobs, the ache in your chest palpable with each word. “I still love him so much. It fucking hurts!” Your voice rises, echoing the turmoil within, tears streaming down your face unabated. As your body trembles with emotion, you wonder if this pain will ever relent, if time will ever heal this shattered heart.

“It’s going to be alright, sis,” she murmurs, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. With gentle strokes, she caresses your hair, guiding your head to rest against her chest. In the warmth of her embrace, you find a fleeting solace, a momentary respite from the tempest of emotions tearing you apart.

“I don’t know, Jess…” You manage between hiccups, the weight of your words heavy with sorrow. “Jimin is the love of my life. I’m just not ready for kids... and I…” Pausing to gather the fragments of your shattered heart, you let the raw ache of longing spill forth. “I can’t do it. I feel jealous all the time. And now he’s going to be a dad?” Each syllable quivers with the agony of uncertainty, a plaintive cry echoing the turmoil within.

She gently pats your head again, a soothing rhythm against the tempest raging within you, yet the storm of emotions refuses to settle.

“I hate myself for feeling like this. For not being ready to have kids… but I just can’t,” you confess, your tears flowing erratically, echoing the tumultuous turmoil within.

“Perhaps my love isn’t strong enough,” you suddenly ponder aloud, lifting your gaze to seek solace in your sister’s eyes, hoping for clarity amidst the storm of doubts swirling within.

“I believe you love Jimin with every fiber of your being. But sometimes, prioritizing your own well-being is necessary. If you can’t fully commit, it’s better to step away before you’re consumed by the pain,” she offers, her words a balm to your wounded heart. Despite the anguish tearing you apart, her reassurance provides a glimmer of clarity, even though the thought of moving on from Jimin feels like an insurmountable task— and deep down you know that you’ll never get over Jimin.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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sillygooseassociation · 1 year

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Requests: Heyyyyy, could you write ted lasso x reader where reader likes ted, and she vents about it with rebecca or keeley and ted listens to it but thinks it’s for somebody else, not him? I’m so sorry for my English, and thank you very much! /// hiiii could you write ted x reader where reader gets jealous of ted with sassy (like reader has a crush on ted but never told anyone about it) and reader is younger than him and thinks that maybe nothing will happen between them?? the drama of it all lol, okay thank you byeee

Description: When you and Ted both eavesdrop on conversations of the other, miscommunication occurs that leads to tears, laughter, and confessions.

Warnings: lots of angst, idk, kinda mentions of divorce

Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader

Word Count: 4.3k

You drop the stack of files on the desk outside Rebecca’s office, pulling a highlighter out of your pocket, needing to mark one more line that you noticed was missed on the walk from your room. Biting the cap off, you hold the plastic in between your teeth as you trace the line on the paper, pausing to listen when you overhear voices from the office. “Now boss, you know I wouldn’t keep anything from you, it's just not in my nature. But a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, and that includes the person that signs my checks.”

Initially, you chuckle at Ted’s mannerisms - even after two years in England, he hadn’t lost that endearing midwest charm. However, your laughter falls flat when you realize the implications of his words, who did he kiss and how did Rebecca know to ask? You weren’t one to eavesdrop, you knew it was rude and you would never want to invade someone’s privacy, especially not the privacy of your two bosses. However, all logic seemed to go out the window when imagining the American gaffer kissing someone.

“Oh Ted please, we’re both adults, we’ve both been married, we’ve both been through heartbreak, so please tell me, what do you think of Sassy?” Sassy? Why did you recognize that name? Well, if you could even consider that a name. You cap the highlighter, returning the writing utensil to your pocket before listening back in, “Why she’s just fine and dandy, nicer than the whole French city.”

Discarding your previous plan of handing the files directly to Rebecca, you instead write her a message on a sticky note and place it on top of the stack, leaving said stack on the desk. As you leave, you hear one more pressing question from Rebecca, “Oh Ted, please speak plainly for once and tell me what you think.” As you head back to your office, you can’t help but wish you were on Ted’s mind as much as he is on yours.

As you sit at your desk, you can’t help but think about Ted and Rebecca’s conversation, how did Ted meet Sassy? And where in the world do you know this name from? It feels like Ted spends all his time devoted to the team, how could he even have the opportunity to meet someone? He eats every meal at Crown and Anchor with Beard, and oftentimes you, that doesn’t give him much of an opportunity to meet a woman at the pub. The rest of his life is spent at his flat or Nelson Road, at least that’s how he made it seem when you all talked about your lives outside of work.

The Liverpool match took up so much of his attention, and it paid off if the game was to be used as evidence. Liverpool! That’s why you know the name Sassy! She was Rebecca’s mate who you met briefly after the game, Keeley was practically attached to her hip. Of course, it had to be Sassy, you couldn’t even go talk to your best friend about how you were feeling, she was practically in love with your competition.

Not that Sassy could even consider you as competition, Ted hardly knew you existed, well, on a romantic level at least. Working as Richmond’s physical therapist, you often made decisions hand in hand with Ted. It was not something you had experienced before with coaches at the previous amateur teams you worked with, they just did what they wanted and left you to pick up the pieces of their sore players. Ted, on the other hand, wanted you right there as he created plays and decided which players should fill which roles, he wanted to make the decisions that were best for the team’s success but also best for the safety and health of his players.

You considered Ted a close friend and you liked to think he thought the same of you, but that’s all it would ever be in his eyes. You were about twenty years his junior, after all, he was far in his career and a wonderful dad, and he had been married before. You, on the other hand, were just starting off, Richmond was your first role as head therapist, many still saw you as a kid even in your mid-20s, and your longest relationship had only lasted a year before your ex decided you were “too much” for him.

To the rest of the world, you were at two stages in your life, how could that ever even work? But in your mind, none of that truly mattered. Different stages in your career didn’t really mean anything, you loved kids and were getting to the point of wanting to start your own family. But at the end of the day, you were inexperienced, you had run off every partner you ever had because of how “needy” you were. You were young. Too young. So you would love Ted from afar, laughing at pop culture references that no one else but Beard understood, nodding in agreement at his motivational speeches to the boys, and admiring the way he put his entire self into everything that he did.

Noticing the time, you realize you would be running late for the pre-training meeting if you didn’t get a move on. You grab your copy of the playbook, checking the pockets of your athletic leggings for your signature highlighter and red pen. You head down the hallway to the locker room, passing through the gym when you hear low voices, looking over to notice the window shared with the coaches’ office was open. “Well, are you going to ask her out, Coach?”

Your eyes widen, walking far enough into the room where you are hidden from the view through the window, deciding to again selfishly listen in, “That’s the thing Coach, I would love that. But I’m me and she’s… well, she’s her. I tell the boys to not be judgmental, but I can’t help but judge myself for having these feelings.” You sigh softly as you shake your head, you hated that Ted thought this way about himself. Any woman would be lucky to have Ted, even if that woman was Sassy and not you. “Ah fuckin’ ‘ell Lasso, you would tell any of those muppets in there to go for what they wanted, why shouldn’t you get to do the same thing?”

You clear your throat quietly, pushing down tears as they well in your eyes, rounding the corner to make yourself known before you have to hear Ted talk about Sassy even more, “Hey team!” Three men in the room jump slightly, startled by your appearance while Roy remains still, not being surprised by anything apparently. Ted runs his hand through his hair, seeming to be frazzled, “Well what do you know, Ms. Sheryl Crow, how’re you Y/N?”

A laugh leaves your mouth though it is much quieter than your normal response to Ted’s humor, something you hope goes unnoticed by the rest of the room. “Oh, I’m okay, just life as normal.” Giving a tight-lipped and forced smile, you thank every god above as Nate asks a question, a stupid one at that, which switches the conversation off of you. Roy lets out a groan and disgruntled mutter about Nate, an offhanded comment that brings out a laugh, hoping your smile dispels any suspicions anyone had about you and your short response to the earlier question. And for the most part, it does, no one in the room is any the wiser about how you are truly feeling, no one, that is, but Ted, whose concerned eyes never leave you.

By the time training was done, you felt emotionally exhausted. After hours of canned laughter, forced smiles, and repressed tears, you just wanted to go home. But nope, it was then a couple of hours in the clinic working on the players. Thankfully with a more hands-on task, the time passed quicker than it did during training. Back in your office, you pack up your backpack before hearing a knock, looking up to find Keeley at the door with her signature smile. “Babes! You’re not answering your texts!” You turn on your phone as it sits on your desk, realizing you have numerous texts from her as well as other contacts, “Shit, sorry Keels, I’m just out of it today.”

Keeley’s smile falls, clearly able to tell that you are not your normal cheery self, “What’s up? Why are you so frowny?” You attempt to give her a smile but before she can even call you on your bullshit, your tears can no longer be held back. “Oh, babes!” She walks you over to the couch in your office, and sits you down, passing you a tissue from the box on your coffee table, “What is going on? Does Roy need to beat some prick up?” You laugh lightly as you wipe away your tears though your effort is for nothing, more tears just falling in their absence, “N-no, it's okay. I don’t want to bother you.”

Your friend looks at you with wide eyes, “Are you absolutely mental? Something that is bugging you like this is never going to be a bother.” You shrug slightly, looking at your lap in embarrassment, “I know I’m not your only friend though, and I don’t want to be an arse and talk shit about someone you like.” Keeley pulls you closer, rubbing your arm in a comforting manner, “You’re right, I do have other friends. But none like you, you’re my best mate. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Taking a deep breath, you tell Keeley what you overheard earlier in the day, both from Rebecca’s office and the coaches’ office. She nods along as you speak, paying close attention until you let out a sigh after finishing your story, “Well, I haven’t talked to Rebecca today, so I don’t know what Ted said. But I do know that Sassy left to find Ted the other night in Liverpool and then came back like, ten minutes later.” You shake your head as you wipe away your last tears, “But that doesn’t mean anything Keeley. They still kissed. It's not like I had a chance with Ted anyway but now I really don’t, he has real feelings for her!” Admitting out loud what you had been ruing all day, you begin to cry again, sobbing softly at how stupid you felt.

Approaching your office door, Ted ran through his script in his mind. He wanted to check on you but he also didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Sure, you were friends, really good friends he would say, but you also technically work for him and you’re a beautiful young woman. He would never want to make you uncomfortable. Which is why he came up with what to ask you, wanting to be careful to avoid stepping over the line.

However, his script was immediately forgotten as he reached your ajar door, hearing your cries from behind. His brows furrowed, terrified that you were hurt, either physically or emotionally, and determined to help however he could. But before he could push the door open more, he heard someone quietly shushing you, someone he soon recognized to be Keeley. He paused, relieved to know that you weren’t alone while feeling this way. He weighed his decisions, popping his head in to offer his aid and support or leave you two ladies be. But before he could decide, he hears your soft voice from the other side of the door, “There’s no reason he would want to be with me, I know that. He’s absolutely perfect, he would never want an idiot kid like me when he could get someone like her. Even though I always knew that I just feel so broken now that it actually happened.”

Ted backed away from the door, slowly walking to Nelson Road’s exit and making his way home, sending a quick text to Beard to apologize for not being able to make it to beers that night. As he walked on the cobblestone path, he couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt, how could you think that way about yourself? You were one of the most amazing people Ted had ever met. You were incredibly intelligent and ridiculously gorgeous; you appreciated all of his humor and had compassion that rivaled that of the virgin Mary. Hell, all of this and more is why he fell for you. But of course, you had your eyes set on someone else. It only makes sense. You were still young, you had so much of your life ahead of you, and he was a tied-down old man with a kid. Let’s be honest, your job was literally to touch and massage some of the most athletic people in the world, why would you want to be with him?

Even though he was feeling a bit torn up at confirmation that his feelings were unrequited, he felt most sad about how you talked about yourself. No one deserved to feel unworthy of love, but you especially didn’t deserve that. You always made sure everyone in your life was supported and had all they needed, it was one of the first things he noticed about you. When he was putting together birthday celebrations for Sam during his first week, you were already making a grocery list of cake supplies before Ted even came to you with his idea. You had a calendar with all of the players’ birthdays sitting on your smaller desk, working as an assistant physical therapist at the time, and knew that Sam’s was coming up. On your small salary and in your unappreciated position, you wanted to make sure the birthday boy didn’t go unrecognized. If you could offer that love to everyone in your life, even those that annoyed you like Nate, you deserved to have someone show you that same love, if not an even greater love.

After a talk with Keeley that was full of hugs, tears, and dirty jokes (mostly from her), you made your way home, deciding to have a quiet night filled with ice cream and Nancy Meyers films. Keeley offered to join you though you quickly brushed her off, sending her to have a conversation with Roy after she told you about their kiss over the weekend that ended with him running off like a fucking twat. Pulling your fuzzy blanket over your crossed legs, you pulled the ice cream carton from its spot on your coffee table and into your lap, pressing play on The Holiday. You roll your eyes at Jude Law’s flirting, what bullshit. A man with an accent foreign to the woman, a man with a young child mind you, was gonna get the girl, and that girl was gonna get her happy ending. Fucking Hollywood lies.

Your internal screaming fit at the television was interrupted by a knock on the door. You groan, putting the frozen tub back on the coffee table, wrapping your blanket around you as you walk to the door in your pajamas, “Right as I got fucking comfortable.” You open the door, planning to rudely take your anger out on the person likely meaning to knock on your neighbor’s door, but instead, you find your favorite American standing there, hands in his pockets as he nervously makes eye contact with you, “Ted?” He takes a hand out, giving you a small wave, “W-what are you doing here?” He ponders your question before looking around, seeming to remember he’s still in the hallway of your flat building, “Can I come in?”

Nodding, you open the door wider to allow him in, closing it behind him before you walk over to the living room, grabbing your ice cream container and then making the short walk to your kitchen to put it in the freezer. “I love the soundtrack for this one.” Walking back into the living room, you offer Ted a confused look before noticing him point to your film selection, “Oh yeah. It’s a great one, even if the plot is unrealistic bullshit.” Ted’s eyes widen as you cross the room to the couch, sit down and turn off the television. Sure, you cuss occasionally, but never in such an intense and negative tone. He apprehensively sits on the other side of the couch, turning to see you looking at him expectantly, “Why are you here, Ted?”

Ted clears his throat, his mind suddenly blank. He had practiced exactly what to say to you on the way over, how to gracefully tell you that he accidentally eavesdropped while also telling you that anyone would be lucky to have you but keeping his feelings a secret. He had figured it all out but the moment he saw you, he lost it all. He could only focus on you. “Oh, um well, I was worried about you. This morning, you weren’t exactly yourself and I wanted to check in.”

You show a small smile at his compassion, of course, he noticed that something was wrong and of course, that meant he then took the time out of his evening to come and check on you. This man was practically perfect, and yet he wasn’t yours, “Yeah, I mean, it was just a rough morning. Got some bad news before training, that’s all. Ted, it's nice and all that you came over to check on me, but you really didn’t have to change your evening plans to do that.” Ted nods in response, looking down as he plays a bit with his fingers, he knows he didn’t have to, he wanted to though, “I know that. Truthfully, I stopped by your office earlier to check on you but you already had company.

Cocking your head to the side, you look at him confused, you had no clue what he was referring to. No one had been in your office that day, no one but you and, oh god, “Shit.” You stand up, beginning to pace around the room with anxiety. Of course, your luck worked out like this. You cried at work about being in love with your boss and he overheard, of course, because why wouldn’t that happen? He was there to fire you, to let you down easily both about your feelings and your job. “Shit, Ted, I’m sorry. I-I promise, this won’t get in the way of my job. I love Richmond and I love the team, please, I would never want to put that in jeopardy.”

Looking confused out of his mind, Ted stands up and steps in front of you, stopping your pacing, “Woah, Y/N, I’m not firing you. Honestly, I don’t even know if I have the power to do that, I like to leave all that stuff up to Mrs. Big Boss. But, even if I did, why would I fire you over being sad that someone you like turned you down? Now, I thought you would know me better than to think I would do something like that.” You look up with wide eyes, he didn’t know, he didn’t know the ‘someone’ was him. “Oh no, um, I know that Ted, sorry. I just, I thought it was something else.”

Thankfully he lets you off without further explanation, though he was still incredibly lost, what else could it have been that you would think would be worthy of him firing you? You return to your spot on the couch, expecting him to follow you except it was now his turn to anxiously pace. “Now, one time in middle school, we had a dance unit and were taught different kinds of dances like line dancing and square dancing. They also taught us disco and I was just absolutely horrible, could not get it down no matter how many times I watched Saturday Night Fever. I bring this up because I don’t want that again, I want to avoid bad vibes as much as I can.” You nod, holding in a laugh at his story, not wanting to interrupt whatever he was working up to say, “I overheard what you said to Ms. Keeley and I just want you to know, Y/N, it is not true at all.”

Your breath catches in your throat, what did he just say? “Now, I don’t know who this guy is but he must be darn stupid if he’s letting you get away. But ya know what, forget him. You don’t need him. You are just perfect on your own. You are not an idiot and you’re not a kid, which I’m pretty sure means you scientifically can’t be an idiot kid. I know I’m just an old man saying all this and it probably doesn’t matter but just…Hell, I’ve been out of the dating scene for a long time and I’m still not entirely in it, I’m as single as a batter running only to first base. None of this probably means anything to you, but I hope you believe me because you are one special woman, Y/N.”

You were speechless, Ted just said everything you ever wanted to hear and yet you could only focus on one part, “What about Sassy?” Having turned himself away from you in his nervous pacing during his monologue, Ted turns to face you with a wild expression on his face, “What’re you on about?” You look down at your hands, shrugging as you wonder if you can get yourself out of the situation, “Just, this morning, before training, I overheard you talking to Rebecca and she asked you about Sassy. You said you don’t kiss and tell…” You trail off, not wanting to finish your sentence one because you hadn’t stayed around long enough to hear Ted’s response beyond that, but also because you were worried about what that answer was. “Before training? Was this before or after you got your bad news?”

Fuck, he was figuring it out.

Sighing, Ted walks over to the couch, sitting closer to you this time, your knees almost close enough to touch but still leaving a distance between the two of you, “Y/N, Sassy found me this weekend after the match and kissed me,” you nod sadly in response, looking away as you hope he can’t see the tears beginning to roll down your face, “but I pulled away so I could tell her I was interested in someone else.” Why was he telling you this? He’s not interested in Sassy, so what? Not like the specific person matters to you, it hurt just the same. Ted sighs again, sliding just close enough that your knees bump each other, “Honey, please look at me.”

You turn to meet Ted’s eyes, his expression falling when he sees the tears running down both cheeks. He raises a hand, gently brushing the tears away, “Why are you crying?” You shake your head which then shakes his hand off, bringing your palm up to wipe away your tears, “’s stupid.” Ted tuts at you, “It’s not stupid if it’s got you worked up like this.”

Well, you’re already crying in front of Ted and are too embarrassed to ever show your face at work again, hopefully, Rebecca will accept an emailed letter of resignation and still be willing to be a reference, “It’s you.” Ted’s heart drops, he made you cry like this? Should he have not said any of those things? Did he say something wrong? He should have never come over, he just knew it, stupid Ted, always messing things up, “I-I made you cry?” You shake your head again, still not meeting his eyes, “No, well, kinda. Ted, it’s you, you’re the guy. I was talking to Keeley about you.”

Ted lets out a chuckle, unable to keep it in. What the fuck, you basically just told this man, your boss that you’re in love with him and he has the audacity to laugh? Before you can ask what the hell is wrong with him, his voice interrupts his laughter, “Well, this is perfect.” You lift your eyes to meet his, seeing a bright smile across his face, how can he possibly be smiling right now? Seeing the confusion on your face, Ted places his hand on your knee, “You’re the ‘someone else’, Y/N. I told Sassy I’m not interested in her because I have feelings for you.”

The world stopped. Well, it didn’t, it still moved on its axis while also moving around the sun but for you, the world stopped. The world stopped as your world sat in front of you, telling you that he felt the same. “What?” You were struck with disbelief, how could Ted feel the same? He was a successful coach and the best father in the world and you were merely a member of his team who can only barely rent a car legally. Ted nods, his smile seeming to grow even though you didn’t think that was possible from how wide it had been, “Yeah darling, it’s you.”

Your smile matches his as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his wrap around your waist, it was perfect, it was natural. Though you wish you could spend the rest of the time like that, you pull away, your faces close enough that he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “Are we really doing this?” Ted smiles softly at you, sensing your euphoric feeling of disbelief because he was experiencing it too, “I think we are.”

You let out an excited squeal, pulling him in for a kiss. It was messy, far too much teeth from you both still smiling and your dried tears seemed to stick to his skin but it didn’t matter. It was messy but it was perfect, just like the two of you.

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