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thepersonnamedsam · 4 months

Note

helloo, just wondering if I could request an imagine for gen z driver and everything that happened last weekend in Qatar! How the heat affected her, and maybe something dramatic and how the other drivers, fans and teams maybe worried about her, thank u sm<3

a random day in my life in f1

pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid

summary: a vlog about our beloved genz!drivers day in the paddock

word count: 2k

warnings: none

note: merry christmas and a happy new year!

thanks for staying with me this year and into the new one :)

it’s not exactly like you asked and i’m sorry for that… but this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, and i just had to like give it some meaning…

masterlist / taglist

The vlogging camera was always secured somewhere in her bags, but she almost never used it. Being overwhelmed fast by all of the other cameras, she didn’t want to create herself more anxiety. But today was different.

„Hi guys!“ Her face appeared on the screen. Much too close, you could almost see her pimples she got from her sweaty balaclava.

The camera swayed and the paddock was shown. „We‘re here in Qatar, it’s beautiful. It is-“, the video switched to her watch „-2pm on a Thursday, that means Free Practice!“

Light music played in the background of the video, but you could still hear the busy paddock. People talking and walking in the background. Sometimes there would even be shouting, but y/n didn’t care, she just smiled into the camera.

„I’ll take you with me through my day! Are you excited? I bet you are“, she smiled. „Uhm, Qatar is a night race, as many of you probably know… but FP1 is still in daylight, which I’m glad, because I can actually see the track and not just feel it-“, she gestures the curves of the track with her hand „-you know? Yea…“, she mumbles the last part.

The video switches to a different setting. y/n now standing inside of her garage: „I have to be careful what I show here, it’s like Hippa in hospitals“, she laughs, „with privacy and all, we don’t want the other teams to know what strategies we’ve been working on.“

„But that’s my car“, she points to the newly polished F1 car, „she got a new look just for this race, can you believe it?“ The camera sways around the car to show off the new design.

„It’s really hot here, make sure to drink enough guys!“ An animation of a glass being filled with water appeared on the screen. „If it works, you should see some water right now“, the young driver grins.

The view changes again, this time to her watch: „We have 3.30pm, it’s time for me to warm up, but I’m actually already very hot, so maybe my trainer will let me off?“ She looks expectantly at her trainer, who only shakes his head no. „Aww man, worth a shot though.“

She placed the camera on the ground to film her warmup. The timelapse shows how she starts to lightly jog on the place. Her trainer starts to throw tennis balls at her. You couldn’t hear it in the video, but he shouts with which hand she has to catch the ball.

The music was catchy and in best with her rope jumping. y/n face was red and she was sweating extremely. She was puffing and breathing heavily. In this humid weather, even inside the cooling garage, it was hard to train. How would she survive in an already 40° hot car, for over 50 laps?

The music stops, so does the timelapse. You can see y/n breathing loud as she laid on the floor. Her head turned towards the camera and she smiles lightly. „Phew, never doing that again“, she laughs.

The video changes again, as y/n walks down the paddock to visit some of her friends: „I’m on my way to the McLaren hospitality. Lando and I have that tradition for Free Practice. We always get a smoothie before, so we don’t have to drink some weird protein shake.“

The view sways around and you can see the bright orange from McLaren. You could hear Lando before he was even in the video. His laugh loud and prominent. „Hi y/n‘s fans!“, he waves into the camera.

„This is Lando Norris, if you didn’t know. He drives for McLaren!“, she explains to her viewers. „I hope they know who I am…“, Lando pouts. She shushes him and giggles.

„What smoothie are you gonna get?“, she asks Lando. „McLaren hospitality has the best smoothies, I swear. Mine doesn’t even have smoothies, can you believe that?“

„Uhm, I think I’ll get the green one, I don’t want to hear anything from Jon, so that’s the only safe option“, he sighs. y/n grimaces, as the green smoothie tastes the worst.

„I think I want the red one, the one with the dragonfruit in it, so I can fly through this Free Practice like a dragon“, she laughs.

Lando rolls his eyes but still has to laugh at her shitty joke. „That was such a bad joke.“ - „But you love me anyway“, y/n grins.

You see y/n full on sweaty and with a red head. „Free Practice is done, it was hot, like really hot, Imma hop into my ice bath for a second and yea. I’ll probably go to the Hotel after to cool down, so I’m fully prepared for Qualifying.“

A shot of the pink rubber duck floating in the ice bath was shown. The duck was flipped and it showed the temperature of the water. 8°C. Perfect for a hot day like this.

„Ohh, I’m almost vaporising“, y/n laughs as she submerges in the water. „My skin is so hot and the water so cold, it’s like I’m the hot metal they put into water, I love this videos, I binge watch them before I go to sleep“, she confesses.

„Anyway, have you seen my pink ducky? I got it from Carlos! I was jealous of his, so he bought me my own temperature duck, isn’t that sweet?“

The next shot was y/n in her hotel room. She was laying in her bed, scrolling through her phone and occasionally laughing. The view was amazing, the sun was setting and you could see so much of Qatar.

„Good morning! It’s Friday then, it’s Saturday, Sunday, what?“

„Welcome“, she laughs, „I’m eating breakfast together with Max, say hi Max!“, Max waves into the camera. „I’m eating Avocado Toast with some Salmon - good fats for my body and Max is eating, actually, what are you eating Max?“

The view changes to Max‘ plate. There was a mix of different things, like some roaster potatoes and beans and some weird, almost wool like thing on his plate. „It’s potatoes, beans and some sauerkraut“, he explains. „What? Sauerkraut?“ - „Yea, I don’t know, apparently it’s good for your body.“

y/n makes a face of disgust and the screen goes black for a second.

„Okay, Q1 and Q2 are finished, got stuck in Q2, but I’m glad I don’t have to start in Q3 honestly, I can focus on the Sprint Shootout later. It’s hot in the car, hotter than usual.“

The scene changes, again to y/n laying exhausted on the floor. From the side you can see Oscar creeping up with a big glass of water. The moment the water hits y/n‘s skin, she’s up and about chasing the rookie.

„Oscar!“ And she sprints out of the view. The screen goes black and then you can see Oscar’s wet hair and two smiley young drivers. „She dumped me“, he huffs. „Into the water“, she says for clarification.

„It’s race day!“, she screams into the camera. „Well sprint day“, she says less excited. „I hate driving in these conditions. It’s way too hot, I’d rather drive on ice than this.“

The scenery changes again, cars driving around the parking lot. „I came here with Charles and Carlos, we’re staying at the same hotel and to save our carbon footprint, with all the excessive driving we do anyway, we thought we carpooled.“

You can see Charles driving and Carlos sitting in the passenger seat. „They wouldn’t let me drive, even though I’m an F1 driver“, she sighs. You can hear Carlos laugh and say: „Have you seen your driving style on the street? No way I would sit in that car.“

The young woman shakes her head and tuts. „You wouldn’t understand“, she whispered into the camera. Charles laughs.

„You know, for you being Australian, you’re still very sweaty.“ - „What? I’m not sweaty, that’s my natural glow“, Daniel laughs. „Natural for sure“, she mumbles.

„What even are you doing? You’ve been walking around with that thing for the past three days“, Danny asks. „I’m vlogging!“ - „You’re what?“, he asks confused. „You’re old, that’s what you are. It’s like blogging but with a video, so it’s vlogging“, she explains with a sigh. The older out of the two just makes an ‚oh‘ sound and laughs.

„I wanted to make a ‚a random day in my life in f1‘ video but it turned out to be a ‚a random four days in my life in f1‘ video.“

Fernando looks confused at y/n. „What?“, he blinks at her. „You know, it should’ve been a video about one day, now it’s about the whole race week“, she explains. „Ahh, okay“, Fernando answers, still unsure what the younger driver tries to explain him. „You wanna say hi?“, she asks him.

„Hi“, he replies. Fernando was not yet in view, but you could hear him. „Into the camera, Nando. You know how this works, you’ve done press and TikTok!“

„Hi“, he says again, this time Fernandos forehead was in excellent view. You could hear y/n‘s giggles as he took the camera out of her hand. „This is for my wife, Taylor, who’s cheating with another athlete!“

The camera was set down and Fernando stood up. „What are you doing?“, y/n‘s giggles continued. „Play Cardigan by Taylor Swift please“, he whisper shouts. As soon as the music begins, Fernando dances and sings to it.

„This is me before the sprint“, y/n looks into the camera and holds up a piece sign, „And this is me after the sprint.“ Face red and puffy. „Athletes sweat, I‘m a real athlete“, she quotes Daniel.

The camera sways to Oscar, who won his first race/sprint. „How do you feel, Mr. Piastri?“ - „I’m hot and sweaty, I wanna drown myself in an iceberg or something.“

„Yea same“, she huffs. „Listen, this race is exhausting. We drive in an unnormal heat, alone in the car it’s 40°C when the outside temperature is like 20°C. But the outside temperature here is already like 40°C, imagine what it’s like inside our cars.

This is for the FIA: I lost like 7kg this sprint race alone, just from sweating. What about you, Os?“ - „I don’t know if I want to say anything to the FIA“, he says lowly. „Ahh, they won’t see that anyway“, she reassures him. „I lost like eight pounds, maybe?“ - „How much is that in kilograms?“, she asks him slowly. He laughs and says: „Maybe 3.5kg.“

„Mr. Verstappen how many kilograms did you lose today?“, she shouts over the paddock. Max halts and turns around to face the camera that was shoved in his face.

„The scale says five, why? How much did you lose?“ - „Seven! Can you believe that?“

„This race really is torture, and we only raced, what, 16 laps? I don’t know.“ - „Can’t wait for tomorrow“, Lando sighs.

The screen goes black for a second again, before the same music started from her warm up at Free Practice. The timelapse begins again and you can see y/n sweating.

Occasionally she sits down to have a sip of water, but her trainer gets her up again. Her face appears wide in front of the camera and she starts to sing the lyrics as the music fades.

„Race day, baby, hoping for a good result today! I feel it in my sweat that I’ve been losing over the past few days“, she jokes.

She gets filmed as she gets into her car, it’s being rolled out of the garage and she makes the shaka with both her hands.

We get a few scenes as she drives past the start line and as she crosses the finish line, the radio messages was overlaid on the video.

„That is P4, baby!“, her race engineer shouted. „Yes! C‘mon! I almost fainted the last three laps, but totally worth it!“

You can see the podium being filmed from the ground. Max won, of course but; „Oscar and Lando! Woohoo! P2 and P3 for my Papaya Boys“, she screams as the McLaren drivers received their trophy.

The video ends with y/n sneaking into the room where they celebrated their podium in private. They were all exhausted.

„You reek of sweat and champagne“, y/n says from behind the camera. All three laugh and Max throws his towel at her camera. The screen goes black.

Comments 3.2K

user i- what was this?

user2 love, love, LOVE the smoothie tradition

user3 qatar should be banned from the schedule

user4 what do you mean, you almost fainted on the last 3 laps? what is going on?

user5 i heard lance almost fainted too

user6 this is cruel, but also love the content

user7 I WANT TO CRADLE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THAT SHE CAN TAKE AN ICY SHOWER

user8 kimi would’ve walked straight to his yacht

user9 nando’s so right playing cardigan

user10 I KNEW YOU, PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AND GIVING ME YOUR WEEKENDS!

youtube this was… eventful?

user11 ariana, what are you doing here?

user12 that’s so old

user13 shut up, they’re probably from all the tiktok edits here on yt

user11 what’s tiktok?

user14 love the new content

f1 wowza, y/n is just stealing our job! next stop: y/n hosts grill the grid

°°°

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#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #fernando alonso #genz driver #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x f!reader #max verstappen x reader #female driver #female f1 driver

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baldursgrave69 · 2 months

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Hands

Listen folks, I have been trying to write this fic for two months and it's finally done.

Rating: NSFW - MATURE, MDNI

Pairing: Enver Gortash x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 2.1K

Tags: MDNI, afab!durge, unprotected sex, piv, vaginal fingering, feelings, oral sex,

While writing this I was listening to: Pork Soda by Glass Animals

Agnes sat with her hands folded in her lap, leaning back in her chair as Ketheric Thorm droned on about his plans to build an army for the Absolute. Enver Gortash sat across from her a quill in his hand as he jotted down notes on parchment. Every time Ketheric opened his mouth Agnes would immediately tune out, she couldn’t stand his tendency for verbosity when it wasn’t necessary, and the way he could go on a tangent for 30 minutes about a painfully specific frontline strategy.

Agnes looked around the room trying to find anything to distract her from the general’s droning. Her eyes landed on Enver’s hands, the golden gauntlet he often wore tapping against the table as his other hand continued to scribble on parchment. She always told him how much she hated the unnecessary, gaudy accessory he insisted on wearing. And she did. He always insisted on embellishments and accents on his clothing that Agnes didn’t feel were necessary. She did perfectly fine flashing a blade to get her way. But he insisted that sometimes it was better to simply “talk” to people rather than threatening them. And apparently appearance meant everything when “talking” was involved.

As Agnes eyed the man’s hands, she couldn’t help but think about what the cool metal of his gauntlet might feel like on her body, the sting of the metal against her bare skin would feel so delicious. She wondered how it might feel for him to wrap his hands around her throat, the tips of his gauntlets digging into her flesh as he squeezed.

Agnes felt heat rip through her, desire burning inside as she fantasized about what Enver might do if he knew she was having these thoughts about him. She could feel her pulse flutter, her face felt flushed and her body felt warm. Agnes bit her lip as she extended her foot, grazing it up Enver’s pant leg across from her. She watched his face, his even expression wavering ever so slightly as she ran her foot up his leg. She felt him rub his leg against hers as he asked Ketheric a question, his hand continuing to drum on the table.

Agnes watched his fingers tap the table, the voices of Enver and Ketheric a drone in the background as she imagined Enver Gortash pounding into her, his hand wrapped around her throat.

Agnes felt a kick under the table, her eyes shooting up to meet Enver’s who widened his gaze at her, subtly tilting his head in Ketheric’s direction.

“What?” She said without thinking, straightening up to look at the general. Ketheric pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, taking a deep breath before addressing Agnes.

“I was asking your thoughts. On all of this,” Ketheric said with a sigh, knowing very well Agnes had no idea what they had been talking about.

“Oh, right. I’d rather hear Gortash’s thoughts,” she redirected, looking in the Baneite’s direction.

“If you’d been listening, my dearest, you would have already heard my thoughts on the matter,” he said with a confident smile, nudging her foot with his. Agnes huffed, kicking his shin and standing from the table.

“I trust you will make the right decision, then. Are we done here?” Agnes grumbled, looking in Ketheric’s direction.

“Just be here tomorrow for our meeting,” Ketheric sighed, waving his hand at her to dismiss her. Agnes spun on her heel, exiting the room and heading for her office.

As Agnes made her way towards her office, she could hear the all too familiar click of Enver’s boots following her down the hall. She kept her pace steady and her head down, entering their shared work space and heading towards her desk. She heard the office door close and lock behind her, a smile crossing her face. Agnes braced her hands on her desk as he came up behind her. Her breath hitched as she felt Enver’s hand wrap around the column of her neck, the metal gauntlet digging into her flesh.

“You little brat, distracting me during our meeting” He growled, his tongue tracing the tip of her ear. Agnes leaned back against him, she could feel that he was already hard, his erection pressing against her ass. She let out a low chuckle, grinding against his crotch. Agnes felt him tighten his grip on her throat, his other hand sliding down her front and dipping into her pants. He pressed his fingers to her cunt, groaning at how wet she was.

“So wet already,” he hissed, biting down on her shoulder as he teased her entrance with his fingers.

“You can’t even make it through a meeting without wanting me to fuck you, can you?” He said, continuing his teasing causing Agnes to moan loudly.

“I just can’t stand listening to Ketheric. I had to keep my mind occupied somehow,” she breathed, his hand still wrapped around her throat.

“Don’t lie,” he growled, shoving two fingers inside her. Agnes yelped at the sudden sting of his fingers in her cunt, breathing heavily as he pistoned in and out of her.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispered in her ear, his thumb rubbing her clit as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.

“Gods, yes,” she moaned, his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of her that made her tremble. Enver squeezed her throat as he quickly pulled his fingers from inside her. Agnes groaned at the emptiness, needily grinding against him. Enver spun her around to face him, walking towards her and backing her up against her desk. He pried her mouth open, shoving his fingers inside.

“I want you to taste just how needy you are,” he growled as she swirled her tongue around his fingers, spit dribbling down her chin. With his other hand he dragged his fingers down her neck and chest, the cool metal scratching her skin.

Agnes took a deep breath as he removed his fingers from her mouth, the feeling of his hands touching her body was exhilarating, she craved his touch. She couldn’t help the smile on her face, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“You make it so easy for me to get what I want, Enver,” Agnes purred, hopping up onto the desk and wrapping her legs around his waist. She placed her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair.

“You’re insufferable,” he huffed, pressing his lips to hers. Agnes pulled him closer with her legs as she kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth.

Enver dug his fingers into her, the sharp claws on his gauntlet ripping into her clothing. She moaned into his mouth at the sting of the metal against her skin. She could feel him break skin as he clawed at her, his teeth clacking against hers as he kissed her roughly.

“Clothes off, now,” he hissed as he pulled away, pointing at her with his gauntleted hand.

“Hah. Or what?” Agnes smirked, crossing her legs.

Enver wrapped his hand around Agnes’ neck, squeezing so that the metal claws dug into her skin. Her breath hitched as he pulled her closer, hovering his lips over hers.

“You distract me in an important meeting and then act like this? Who do you think you are?” He hissed, squeezing harder as he bit her lip. Agnes could feel blood drip from her mouth as Enver bit down harder.

Agnes let out a laugh, pulling away to press her fingers to her lips, feeling the blood begin to drip down her chin. She swiftly kneed Enver in the groin, causing him to fall to his knees before the bhaalspawn. She pulled a dagger out from behind her, toying with the dull edge of it.

“You forget who you’re messing with, Baneite,” she said as she tangled her free hand through the man’s dark, messy hair. Agnes pulled Enver’s head back so that he was looking up at her, pressing the dull edge of the dagger against the man’s neck.

“Now, be a good boy and I may give you what you want,” she said with a smile, leaning down and softly pressing her lips to his. Enver let out a huff, giving in and leaning into her kiss. Agnes threaded her hands into his hair, pulling him up onto his feet towards her. She hopped up on the desk, beckoning him towards her with her finger.

“You want my clothes off? Do it yourself,” she smirked, spreading her legs slightly and leaning back on her hands. Enver narrowed his gaze as he approached her, quickly tugging her shirt up and over her head. His eyes trailed her chest as he unhooked her bralette, allowing it to slide off of her shoulders. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers as he cupped her breast, his thumb rolling over her nipple. Agnes felt his thumbs hook into the band of her trousers and small clothes, yanking them down in a swift motion. He pulled away, sliding his hand down her leg and gently removing her pants and boots one leg at a time.

“Very good,” Agnes purred, watching Enver’s gaze darken as he looked her over. He rolled his eyes, closing the gap between them and leaning in to press his lips to hers.

“Ah ah,” she said with a tut, pushing him away from her. “Your turn,” Agnes smirked at Enver, gesturing for him to remove his clothing. He huffed at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You think you can just order me around like some dog?” His body betrayed his words as Agnes watched his erection strain against his trousers, his breathing heavy and gaze darkened.

“Yes,” she said, cocking her head to the side as she dragged her fingers through her folds, a moan escaping her lips. Enver watched as she traced circles on her clit, her head falling back as she pleasured herself.

“Hells below,” he breathed, a hand palming his hard cock through his pants. Agnes looked up at Enver, locking eyes with him as she pushed two fingers inside of her cunt, her breath hitching as she languidly fingered herself.

“Fuck it,” Enver hissed, hurriedly pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it to the side. Agnes watched, continuing to piston her fingers in and out of her cunt as Enver quickly undressed, his length springing free from his pants. He kicked his trousers to the side, one hand pumping his impossibly hard cock as he walked towards her. Agnes groaned as she watched him spit into his hand, lubricating his length, resting his free hand on the desk.

“Let me fuck you,” Enver breathed, pressing his forehead to hears as he watched her fingers trace circles over her clit. “Please,” he added, bringing the head of his cock to her entrance, teasing her with the tip. Agnes bit her lip, nodding as she felt him nudge the head of his cock inside her. Enver slowly pushed himself inside of her, bring his gauntleted hand up to cup her face.

“You drive me mad,” he groaned, burying himself inside her. He could feel her tighten around him as he languidly fucked into her, grunts escaping from his lips.

“Gods,” Agnes moaned, her mouth hanging slightly open as he increased his pace, pulling her as close as he could with his free hand. Agnes brought her hands up to his neck, wrapping her arms around him as he fucked her. Enver brought his hand to her throat, wrapping around it and squeezing.

“Yes, please don’t stop,” Agnes breathed, his hips pounding against her. Agnes felt the air being punched from her lungs, growing dizzy from the bruising pace and his hand wrapped around her throat. She could feel waves of pleasure ripping through her as her orgasm rapidly approached with his cock pounding into her.

“Come for me Agnes, I know you can,” Enver growled, loosening the grip on her throat as he pressed his lips to hers. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, his thrust becoming more erratic as his own climax began to build. Agnes pulled away from the kiss, burying her head in the crook of his neck as she came, obscenities falling from her lips. Enver held her close, fucking her through her orgasm, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own.

“Gods I- I’m,” Enver grunted, biting down on her shoulder as he spilled into her. Agnes could feel him throb inside of her, his teeth still buried in her neck. Enver pulled out of her, breathing heavily as he rested his hands on either side of her on the surface of the desk. Agnes smiled at him, caressing his cheek as she caught her breath.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Enver huffed, still trying to catch his breath.

“I hope so, my dear tyrant,” Agnes whispered against his lips.

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ao3feed-jonmartin · 3 months

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It's Gone Now (The Night Has Come)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/7LA1U8e by Aquattarius_Rain “But that wasn’t all it was, was it?” Jon asked softly. “No…It wasn’t,” Gerard looked off to the side, “I actually snuck into the institute the night she told me about what happened and trashed her office. Of course, she found me but…I think that was when she realized why I was really upset.” Jon hummed, “You and Michael were friends.” Gerard snorted, “Friends. Sure. That’s certainly a way to put it,” At Jon’s confused look, he genuinely laughed, “Damn, Sims, pick up on the subtext, will you? Surely you’re not that oblivious.” He looked confused for a minute before realization smacked him over the head like a brick, “Oh! Oh, I didn’t…You and Michael were….Uh, lovers?” ------------------------------------- Edit-I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS STORY TO BE REPOSTED ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. IF IT IS REPOSTED WITHOUT MY CONSENT THEN IT WILL BE CONSIDERED A STOLEN WORK AND I WILL TAKE ACTION. Words: 12247, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Heat Waves (Canon-compliant DoorKeay) Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Mentioned Michael Shelley - Character, Mentioned Michael | The Distortion Relationships: Gerard Keay & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion, Background Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: MAG 111: Family Business, Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Which you know ends fairly quickly, Gerry and Jon have a deeper conversation, Autistic Gerard Keay, Autistic Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Implied but it's important to me, Autistic Michael Shelley, everyone in MAG is neurodivergent i dont make the rules, This is literally Jon and Gerry talking about Gerry's love life, they could have been besties man, stressed disasters with their sunshine boyfriends, Title from a Glass Animals Song, It's literally just them talking for 11k words man idk what to say, gerry: i mean making out with the distortion was interesting, jon: YOU MADE OUT WITH THE DISTORTION????, also jon having to break the news to gerry that michael is dead :(, gerrymichael/doorkeay are my new obsession, yall gotta understand im officiall insane about them, part 1 of two-part series, OH MENTION OF TERMINAL VELOCITY, BECAUSE WITH A SHIP NAME LIKE THAT HOW COULD I NOT read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/7LA1U8e

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #tma #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin fanfic

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orbleglorb · 1 year

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i know y'all are gonna ask "what is [poll option]??" so i've provided short explanations & examples below the cut:

meditation/zen is music that they play in spas or sometimes therapy offices that are supposed to make you more relaxed. they're some sort of slow hum that make a repetitive rhythm. it's supposed to be background for mediations. if you search up meditation music you will get 271374 different youtube videos that give you the exact same song

showtunes are songs originally written for musicals, either theater or films. you can't generalize every single showtune into one category but a lot of the mainstream ones (wicked, heathers, dear evan hansen, be more chill, etc.) all kind of sound similar. i can't figure out how to describe this.

by "marching band music," i mean the sound of a marching band playing any song. i know marching bands play different types of music, but mostly covers of pop music (in my very limited experience, anyway).

self-explanatory. hamilton sucks

dsmp stands for dream survival multiplayer. which means some guy named dream hosted a survival multiplayer on minecraft. i don't know why spotify made a fucking dsmp genre. i don't know what the fuck they were thinking. but the dsmp genre has music such as lovejoy, wilbur soot, corpse, alec benjamin, lemon demon, the undertale ost, and the song heat waves by glass animals.

bedroom pop is music with bare-bones production that tends to be sort of lo-fi and feel like it was recorded on a tape. they have "analog synth," although im not sure what that means. bedroom pop includes pinkpanthress, clairo, cavetown, girl in red, jack stauber, joji, khai dreams, etc.

midwest emo originated in the american midwest and features kinda shouty vocals that sound like the singer received no vocal training and guitar-heavy instrumentals. they also have incredibly long titles like "i shotgunned a beer then did a line of coke and went to bed (i miss you)" (i made that one up). bands/artists include modest mouse, american football, death cab for cutie, braid, and sometimes bands like fall out boy can be categorized as midwest emo.

dreampunk is vaporwave-ish and focuses on ambience. it uses synths and electronic instruments. sometimes it'll sample sounds from the city, east asian cinema, anime, etc. it's often used in unreality/weirdcore/backrooms/liminal space videos. bands/artists include 2 8 1 4, t e l e p a t h, hong kong express, wosX (aka Wolfenstein OS X), and nmesh.

dubstep is electronic dance music with syncopated music patterns, notable basslines, occasional vocals, and other things i cannot think of right now. dubstep songs typically have a "bass drop." it was popular in clubs around the mid-2000s (and maybe now, i don't go to clubs). bands/artists include skrillex, james blake, burial, knife party, etc.

noisecore is exactly what it fucking sounds like. it's noise. it's also referred to as eyepopping noisecore. it's just loud noise.

there u go. have fun

#tumblr polls #silly polls

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glenrocklibraryteens · 5 months

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BOOK REVIEW: BEARTOWN

“Beartown” by Frederik Backman Genre: Realistic Fiction Number of Pages: 432 Rating - 4.5/5 - Great, but the first half of the book moves slowly Reviewed by: NS

Beartown by Frederik Backman takes place in a snowy impoverished town, which is called Beartown, where the community is bound by one thing and one thing only: hockey. Hockey is the only thing that Beartown has going for them. In the first half of this poignant novel, Beartown is established with its characters and what it has going for them. Backman introduces the boys on the hockey team by providing their backgrounds and by establishing their relationships with one another and with people in the town. Backman also introduces a little bit about the other characters who live in the town, by describing their occupation and their lives at home to give the reader a glimpse into how the town works overall. However, after the first half of the novel which is the road to the boy's hockey team winning the semi-finals, something terrible happens. Kevin, the star player of the hockey team assaults a girl at his party after the semi-finals. The second half of this book unfolds after these events, and it breaks some of those relationships that Backman had established in the first half.

Overall, I believe that this book is quite good, I just think that the first half of the book moves very slowly. It can get pretty uninteresting as Backman leaves nothing to the imagination. Backman thoroughly describes each character with such important detail that it is sometimes quite unnecessary. Aside from this shortcoming, I believe that Beartown is a well-established book with a pretty big pivotal moment that impacts the rest of the story. I love the community building that Backman initiates in the first half of the novel, just to have it creating a mess and the people betraying each other. I also love how the central theme in all this is hockey. Backman never strays from this topic, as he relates it to almost every important moment or scene in this story.

Playlist:

1. Radioactive by Imagine Dragons - In this book, there is a moment where one of the main characters, Amat, who is the youngest on the team is tormented by the other boys on the ice during practice. Instead of backing down when he is beaten by the other boys, he gets up, picks up his stick, and keeps playing against them, signifying the beat drop in this song as it highlights the determination.

2. Believer by Imagine Dragons - Characters in Beartown share a common theme with this song. The entities that Believer describes are people that will not give up, and are determined to do anything, whatever the cost.

3. This Town by Niall Horan - This song and the book relate with the transformation of relationships. “This Town” is about a past relationship, and there are relationships that change quickly despite the length of time the characters knew each other. After the events occur, the

4. Heat Waves by Glass Animals - Heat Waves describes the interaction between Maya and Amat after the incident. Amat thinks a lot about Maya and he doesn’t want her to be broken inside after the unfortunate incident. This song expresses love about someone else, and Amat expresses his love to Maya throughout the book.

5. I Will Wait by Mumford & Sons - This song is about patience and commitment in the face of challenges. Beartown relates to this because the book is about characters who are loyal to each other at the start of the book.

6. Titanium by Sia - This song highlights the empowerment the community of Beartown has as a whole with the fact that they don’t have much going for them, but with the likes of hockey, they can come together and support each other.

7. Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons - This song describes Maya’s dad Peter. Peter is the General Manager of the boys hockey team. Peter blames himself for Maya’s assault because he thought that Beartown would be a safe place for his children. This song goes in-depth on self blame.

8. Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons - Within this song and the book, there are a lot of intense emotions with the players and characters outside of the rink. Characters find themselves getting emotional because some of the events happen so unexpectedly. Bleeding Out also describes the healing process for Maya, after running home with a bloody blouse to being strong to report the crime, Maya goes through a lot in that short span of the book.

9. Viva La Vida by Coldplay - This song describes Kevin after the event. Viva La Vida by Coldplay describes a monarch who used to rule over everyone until he lost his kingdom. In this instance, we could say that after the assault, Kevin lost some of his close friends and he temporarily lost his spot on the team.

10. Rise Up by Andrea Day - This song perfectly describes Maya, the girl that Kevin assaulted. Initially, Maya feels very vulnerable as she feels scared to leave her bed, but soon she finds courage to stand up and tell everyone what happened. At first she wanted to keep it to herself, but then she gradually told everyone.

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spaceofentropy · 1 year

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@salthat tagged me, so here I am, late as hell but here nonetheless!

Rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people. I don't have an on repeat playlist, but I just made a playlist with the 50 songs I played the most, which incidentally are the songs I use a background/inspo when I work. So...

"Heat Waves" - Glass Animals

"Fools" - Troye Sivan

"Small Doses" (slowed down version) - Bebe Rexha

"Solstice" - Beyond Infinity

"Horizon" - Long Distance Calling

"Black Water" (Chris Taylor of Grizzly Bear Remix) - Of Monsters and Men

"Monument" - Royksopp ft. Robyn

"Stand Your Ground" - Confrontational

"Wolf" - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

"Army of Me" (live in studio version) - Bjork

I'm supposed to tag people, but it's too much pressure right now so... If you see this and want to do it, go, you have my blessing! <3

#music #me #tag game #my soundtrack #Wolf is basically the soundtrack for my brain coming up with a good chunk of “Of soulmates and colors”#and Stand Your Ground for a WIP I don't even know if I'll ever complete let alone publish

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worworwol · 1 year

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Rather be in jail than alone

SZA - Kill Bill

Usually, I put somethin' on TV So we never think about you and me

Glass Animals - Heat Waves

25.01.2023

well, it has been a long time. i am not gonna say i took a break cause firstly that would make it seem like i did this long pause on purpose, which i did not, and secondly, i barely did anything on this blog yet to get a break. i just stopped caring about it for a few months and lost the passion i had after a few posts. it is one of my many flaws, i get bored of things, hobbies and media and people, very easily. i think i start too passionate, get too excited, too into it. then after the honeymoon phase since i am not in that intense state of mind, i just drop it. i can't do things unless if i am forced by something else; an emotion-highness, deadlines, or my family. it is another of my many flaws, this one brought by depression. maybe the other one is too, i did not psychoanalyze it enough yet.

another very important reason is that simply i have just been very busy. college has been an entirely different experience from high school in almost every aspect. i am now a lot more social which is great! but i also have a lot more responsibilities, lots of lectures, quizzes, midterms, finals, homework, lab reports, meetings, the translation job at the journal, social gatherings and many other things that always existed. i did not have the time to sleep on most days, so writing here was not even a dream cause i could not fucking sleep. i am back however because i am on my semester break, i want to be active and consistent this time. i hope i can be successful, i don't have much hope about it nevertheless. i want to tell about everything that happened but my memory nor my writing is good enough to go through months of life so i will just give background on stuff if there is any need.

i like someone.

i know it is a big jump from the two paragraphs of rambling but i like someone and that is all i can think about these days. their soft and long hair, their glass skin, their stupid jokes, their laugh, and the way they walk like they are carrying all the good things in the world with them. some people remind me of angels; the way they are is like something holy and pure in the sense that they are good, in their core, not that they are untouched. usually, it is my niece but he reminds me of an angel too. i have never had that experience with a real live person, let alone a MAN. but then he came along. i did not know that it is possible to just look at a person and feel at peace but here we are. all the poems i read remind me of him which is both endearing and terrifying. i do not wanna get attached to a person that i barely count as a friend, more of an acquaintance. i do not wanna make them a person they are not in my head. i do not wanna get rejected if i ever try to make a move. but i also want deeply to be loved, for us to be together, to have the courage to make a move and get a positive reaction, to be good enough for someone, to be worthy of someone's attention and attraction. i do not know if it is possible however like i said before i do not know how to be something loveable.

i am aware that he is not perfect either. he is not the perfect guy nor the ideal. but he is good. something i have never managed to become. i have gained weight so i look uglier and more disgusting than usual, i am not a positive person, nor fun or humorous. i am not as knowledged as he is nor i have a talent. why would anyone want me? at least i can see appreciate him from afar thanks to our friend group, at least i get to hear his dumb jokes and occasionally talk to him even. it should be enough, it has to be.

this much self-deprecation is enough for one post so i am gonna end it here, see you later; whoever you are. am i even doing this for someone else?

#day 3 i guess???#tumblog

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nepofm · 1 year

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+𝟏 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐃 . paige yoon ( jeon somi ) is looking for a romantic connection .

romantic/ex. — paige yoon is looking for a first love, picture this plot with the sound heat waves by glass animals playing in the background. paige and your muse would’ve met during a european summer, either the year before columbia university or the year before she graduated university. she was her freest, her best self, taking the summer to travel solo and learn about the world and different cultures on her terms. then she meets this person, and it’s so intense from day one, and they spend the entire summer together … until paige eventually has to leave for real life again, leaves a note on their pillow (we can discuss what it says via plotting!), with the intention of never seeing them again. paige never really got over it. and within the age range of 21-26 that preferably looks like percy hynes white, felix mallard, dylan arnold, ben levin, alex fitzalan, josefine frida pettersen, lulu antariksa, jenna ortega, evan mock, wooyoung, brigette lundy-paine, mekki leeper, anyone in the correct age range! you do not have to contact the mun before applying under the paigeisms.

#appless rp #oc rp #subplots rp #rich kids rp #gossip girl rp #city rp #wc.

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mayorspatula · 1 year

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i just remembered the one time i had a dream where hank green uploaded what was titled as his cover of heat waves (the glass animals song ofc) but if you watched the video it was just him screaming on camera but like. you couldn't hear it. and then there was also just heatwaves playing in the background

#txt #dream #but not that kind of dream #the other kind #not the yucky one is what i mean okay?

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mistymoorlight · 3 years

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Hey so I don’t know how many of my followers use Tiktok so I’m gonna go ahead and impart this knowledge to all of you in case you don’t:

Not only has Straight Tiktok discovered Heat Waves by the Glass Animals, they’ve turned it into a viral trend where you trauma dump and then lip-synch the “sometimes all I think about is you” part. For the first time, I can scroll through comment sections using the song without seeing a single “💚💙”. I cannot decide if this is nature healing or nature becoming something infinitely worse

#either way I’m never gonna be able to hear the song without fight or flight kicking in #do you know how jarring it is to see a twenty year old white woman crying with this song in the background?#like. this is worse than Tiktok brutalising musical songs because at least that’s funny #tiktok #mcyt #dream smp #dsmp #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #no I’m not tagging dnf fuck you #heat waves #glass animals

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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years

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Out of Character (Rafe Cameron) Part 2

Warnings: SMUT, Brief talk of drug use.

Authors Note: I posted this on my mobile, so I'm sorry this is sooo bulky on your timeline. I hope you all enjoy.

Days later, the events of The Red Night had been forgotten by most - with the exception of JJ Maybank and Topper Thornton.

Gemma and Rafe had moved on, and Topper despised it. He had wanted to make a move on Gemma that night. Frankly he thought after Rafe had almost put JJ Maybank in a watery grave that the tale of Gemma Mercer and Rafe Cameron would be done. Apparently she just liked him more.

Topper sat at a table at the country club after a round of golf with Kelce, and Rafe. They chose a table , obviously, in Gemma's section and waited.

"Hey, boys." She smiled as she walked up, leaning her body into Rafe.

"Hey, baby. Wanna get us a round?" Rafe smirked as he squeezed her backside unapologetically.

Topper ran his tongue over his teeth, his unconscious tick when he was uncomfortable. And he was very uncomfortable as he watched Rafe's fingertips reach up Gemma's shorts for her thighs.

Topper, that tickles. Stop. You're covered in cu -

Topper stood up from his spot at the table and knocked over his chair. He announced he was going to the bathroom and stormed off. He waved behind him as Gemma asked what kind of beer he wanted.

I don't fucking care.

Topper rushed into the one person bathroom and locked himself inside. He let out a shaky breath as he tried to gather himself. He had not realized the consequences of his actions, the severity of the hand he had been dealt.

Topper had not been honest with Rafe when he told him nothing had happened with Gemma on The Red Night. A pretty girl in a red dress who is full of vodka, and a Kook on coke with heartbreak don't mix.

Topper helped a drunk Gemma into his empty house, and watched as she kicked off her shoes. He tried not to noticed as her dress hiked up her thighs almost to her hips.

No panties. Fuck.

"C'mon, Gemma. This way." Topper laughed softly as he led her towards the spare room. He held her shoulders , guiding her safely to the bed.

"Goodnight, Gemma." Topper stated softly as he turned away while she crawled into bed. Her backside in full display to him. All the times Rafe bragged about sinking his teeth into it made him suddenly jealous.

"Wait. Topper?" She asked softly from the middle of the California King.

"Yeah?" He asked while he looked at his feet, unable to look at the drunk girl.

"Do you have any clothes I could sleep in? I kind of thought I would be with Rafe tonight." She smiled softly as she pushed her hair out of her face.

Topper nodded before he went to his room to grab a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. When he came back into the room Gemma had gotten out of bed and stripped out of the dress to reveal nothing but her tanned body.

"What are you doing?" Topper stammered as he looked his best friend's girl up and down relentlessly. He didn't care anymore. If she was going to be naked in his house then he was going to look.

"Getting ready for bed, Silly." She smiled as she reached for the clothes he clutched in his fist.

"No. With me." He rasped out as his eyes moved from the tanlines on her feet , hips and the lack of lines across her chest.

"I'm not doing anything." Gemma replied as she looked up at him.

"You are, and it isn't fair . This what you're doing right now is fucked up. Because you think I won't don't anything about it because you're Rafe Cameron's girl. But fuck that." Topper spat as he tossed the clothes on the bed and closed the gap between them.

He placed a hand on her soft backside while the other entangled itself in her hair. He pressed himself against the naked girl and kissed her firmly, his tongue in her mouth immediately. He didn't give a fuck, especially not when she moaned into his mouth.

"You're in trouble, Topper Thornton." She panted when he let her breathe. Her hands pressed against his chest and she rubbed her naked hips against his golf shorts.

"Yeah, I am." Topper replied as he nudged her nose with his as he backed her up to the bed. He pushed her on to her back, biting on his bottom lip as she bounced on the bed.

"What are you going to do, Topper?" She asked as she bent her knees and held her thighs together.

"Kinda feel like devouring you. Kinda feel like making you beg. " Topper replied as he pulled off his shirt then spread her legs.

"Topper." She blushed as she tried to close her thighs again.

"Don't. I get to hear about how fucking good you taste, now it's my turn for a sample." Topper stated as he pressed her knees down on either side of the bed and looked down at her completely exposed to him.

"Topper." His name was like her only reaction now. Topper knelt at the foot of his bed as he pulled her closer to the edge. Her skin so soft while he tossed her thighs over his shoulder.

He didn't start slow. He attached his lips to her clit and gave a harsh suck that made her cry out. She grabbed at his hair and pushed her hips up into his face.

"Be fucking good." Topper grunted as he grabbed her hips with both hands and pushed them down onto the bed. He realized mid - action that he shouldn't be so rough. He could've left bruises on another man's girlfriend as he devoured her...

"Fuck, Topper!" She gasped as her hips writhed in his hands.

"You taste so fucking sweet." Topper slurred between her legs as he ever so briefly added his fingers to her centre. The pads of his fingers brushed against her soaked core, making her cry out for him, before he softly pressed them to her thigh.

"Topper. I think...please, don't.." Gemma gasped out as she pulled at his hair.

Topper nodded, then grunted in response. He gripped at her thighs to keep her close as he tongue swiped over her clit and brought her to the edge. For the first time in a long time he was happy he was home by himself. The scream that left this tiny girl was almost alien.

"Did I break you?" Topper asked as he placed messy kisses on her thigh.

"That tickles, Topper. Stop! You're covered in cum." She giggled as she gently pushed his face away.

"You don't like it?" Topper asked as he pulled his face up from between her legs, so he could lean down and kiss her lips.

"I like it a lot." She replied as she reached for his belt and ripped it through the loops of his shorts.

Topper's head was spinning. He wasn't sure how had quickly gotten into his position - literally - but he didn't want to stop. He now understood why Rafe didn't shut the fuck about her, and was incessant about their sex life. And all Topper had done was put his tongue on her .

"Come here, pretty girl." Topper grunted as he rolled onto his back and pulled her with him. He positioned the girl on top of his lap.

Just as Topper was about to lower Gemma onto his manhood. His breath held in his throat, he heard the screech of tires on the gravel out front.

"That's..fuck. That's Rafe." Topper groaned as she took the lead and sunk down onto him.

"Nooo, Silly. It's not." She cooed as she started to shift her hips. Topper groaned and his head rolled back at her tight heat.

"You feel so fucking good." Topper rasped out, his hands gripped at the flesh of her backside.

It was the long honk of the his horn that startled her. She squeezed her muscles around him as the horn went off and Topper growled like a trapped animal.

"You fucking bitch." Topper grunted as he thrust up into her. His hips became rabid as he thrust up into her over and over again.

Topper pulled out as he came, the feeling of her own orgasm too much for him to handle. Topper shivered as he laid on his back for a moment, Rafe's horn the background sound to their infidelity.

"I'm going to go calm him down." Topper stated softly as he put himself back in his pants and slid out from under her.

"Was I that bad?" She asked softly as Topper made his way to the door.

Topper's heart skipped a beat, while his cock jumped. Had she not been there for any of that?

"No. You were incredible, Silly." Topper smiled softly back at her before he quickly walked out of the house.

Topper would never tell her she was the best he had ever had in his young life. That after she left he couldn't get her out of his head. Her taste off his tongue, or her screams out of his ears.

He wanted more.

Topper stood in the bathroom at the country club and splashed cold water on his face to try and calm down. He was not thinking about his best friend's girlfriend. And he was definitely not thinking about her on her back, with her thighs over his shoulders while his face was buried between them. He wasn't thinking about how tight and warm she was, or the way her hips rotated to get all of him.

No. He wasn't.

"Yo. Topper. You alright, man?" Came Rafe's voice and a heavy knock on the other side of the door.

"Be right out."

Topper opened the door to reveal Rafe with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

"What? You doing bumps without me in here?" Rafe grinned as he looked around as if to spot the white powder.

Topper scoffed as he led the two of them back to their table. Gemma had served them all drinks and was running around taking orders for a large party that had just finished golfing.

"So, you and Gemma make up after the other night?" Topper asked after a generous sip of beer.

"Yeah, we did." Rafe smirked as he lowered his sunglasses onto his eyes. As if they would block him from ogling his girlfriend in plain sight.

"That's good." Kelce replied as he texted on his phone, probably another conquest.

"Well, that pussy is just the finest quality bro." Rafe smirked as he watched Gemma walk across the terrace.

Topper clenched his fists as he stood up from his chair again. He glared at Rafe before he stalked off towards the bar where Gemma stood waiting for the glasses to be filled.

"Hi, Topper." She smiled at him, as if she hadn't rode him within an inch of his life four days ago.

"Can I talk to you?" Topper asked, his eyes darted from her to Rafe.

"Sure." She nodded as she slid her tray to a fellow server and walked off with Topper.

"So you and Rafe made up?" Topper asked as they stood away from Gemma's section, away from Rafe.

Gemma scoffed as she shielded her eyes from the sun. "I mean, yeah. We're together."

"And the other night with us meant nothing to you?" Topper whispered, careful of who could hear. The Outer Banks were small, everyone knew everyone. And their business.

"I didn't say that, Topper." She replied with a roll of her eyes.

She infuriated him. It was as if that night meant nothing to her. As if he had not pulled her from the crossfire of Rafe and JJ only to have her put him between her and Rafe.

"Exactly. You haven't said anything, Gemma. He picked you up literally as I was inside of you, he took you home. Probably fucked you, and then it's all good. It's fine. Because he's Rafe Cameron." Topper scowled as he looked her up and down, doing his best not to remember what she looked like naked and on the brink of orgasm.

"Fuck you, Topper. You're putting your anger at Sarah for shacking up with Routledge on me. And it's not okay. We hooked up, it was fun. Get over it." Gemma spat at him, her neatly manicured finger pressed into his toned chest.

"Yeah, it was fucking fun. But I think it was more than fun for you, Gemma. I think you needed me Saturday night." Topper hissed as he grabbed her wrist to pull her hand away.

"Needed you?" She replied with a glare, as she fought his grip.

"Yeah. You needed me. I took care of you when he was MIA on the fucking beach, made you come. Twice! And I have a sneaking suspicion he doesn't make you feel as good as you think he does in bed." Topper replied as they fought. He ended up with her pinned against the stucco wall as he held her arms over her chest.

"How dare you.."

"You asked me if you were bad in bed. And I don't fucking understand that. I haven't for days. Not when you look like that. Move your hips like you did, or your pussy tastes like.."

"Stop." She whispered as she avoided his intense eyes. His compliments embarrassed her.

"He doesn't say shit like that to you, does he?" Topper asked softly as he released his grip on her wrists.

"Not always. He's different when we are alone." She replied with a soft sniffle before she looked back up at Topper.

"Listen, I'm not...I'm not trying to put all my anger or whatever about Sarah onto you. Honestly I would rather focus that anger on Routledge. I just wanted you to know that I can't stop thinking about you. And that you weren't bad in bed. Quite frankly, you were the best I've had." Topper replied as he placed one had beside her head, while the other rubbed the back of his neck.

"Of who? Me and Sarah Cameron?" Gemma teased.

"Fuck you. I've had sex with plenty of other girls." Topper laughed softly as he looked at their feet.

"I'm sure."

"If I hadn't fucked a lot of girls then how would I have known what I was doing with you?" Topper grinned as he remembered the blissful moments between her legs with her hands buried in his hair.

"Beginner's luck?" Gemma replied as she looked up into his eyes.

Gemma didn't want to admit that she had enjoyed her time with Topper that night. He had made her feel incredibly good. She has not intended on sleeping with him that night, but it happened. She would be lying if she said she didn't think about him, too. The way he gripped at her hips as he devoured her, how his hips had a mind of their own once she had unintentionally squeezed her muscles around him.

The sounds he made.

It made her excited, and a little wet just thinking about how he roared as he came all over her thighs. How he slurred his speech into her core like he was drunk on her.

"Luckiest beginner of all time to make a pretty girl like you come that hard." Topper replied under his breath as he watched a sous chef walk by for a smoke break. Everyone knew who Gemma Mercer was, and that she was Rafe Cameron's arm candy.

"Guess next time you'll have to try harder. See what happens." She stated as she looked at him through his eyelashes.

"Don't fucking play with me, Gemma." Topper growled as he watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other.

"I should get back to my section before Melody takes all my tips." Gemma replied as she pushed her body off the wall.

"Come over tonight." Topper blurted out before he could catch himself.

"You want me to come over tonight?" Gemma repeated.

"Yes. Come over tonight. I'll make you dinner, we can raid my parent's wine cellar. We don't have to have sex, if you don't want to. I mean, I would really like to. But if you don't want to, I would be really happy with just having dinner with you."

"You're asking me on a date?" Gemma asked as she looked the boy up and down. She had never had a boy make her dinner.

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I know that Rafe is technically your boyfriend and all, but I think you deserve better and.." Topper was cut off by Gemma grabbing his face and pressing her lips to his firmly.

"I'll be there at 7." She replied once she let him breathe. She quickly scurried back up the stairs to tend to her section.

Topper licked his lips, unaware Rafe Cameron had watched the whole scene.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #obx smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks smut #topper Thornton smut

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vminity21 · 3 years

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Beyond the Facade | knj

Pairing: handyman!namjoon X preacherskid!reader, bestfriend!taehyung X pregnant!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 10,958

Genre: mysterious/angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): strong language use, semi-detailed childbirth, mention of infidelity, alluding of a love triangle, evidence of a sheltered background, angst involving family matters, smut, losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play, hand groping, lots of flashbacks but that is the point of the story i sorry; Rated: 18+

Summary: A sheltered life leads to harbored secrets that are buried in order to protect someone you are falling in love with. As the time is nearing for the life growing inside you to be welcomed into the world, the reminiscences of all the moments unfold to reveal a beautiful story that needed to be told.

Credits to: @suhdays for making such a phenomenal header! The talent she has never ceases to amaze me!

The graying of the clouds is all you can see beyond your window other than the panging rain droplets now trickling upon the glass. Arm resting against your forehead, your lips press into a straight line in response to the series of thoughts circling your mind. Carefully, you slide your palms upon the mattress in an attempt to sit up, wanting to see more of the view besides the crying sky. Knuckles curling to rub your tired eyes, you furrow your brows, the comforting warmth of the bed covers remain tangled between your shins. Leafless trees border the side of the building save for a small swing set; a paved section decorated with a basketball hoop where a large shed stands many feet across from it. If one is to step outside the front of the structure, there sits a church surrounded by a gravel parking lot where the neighboring land hosts a barbed wire fence with an abandoned house and field.

It's been four months since you deemed the fellowship hall your home, and appreciatively, the area has been vacant since the falling of the church which saves even more stress than what you've been in since moving here. Achingly, your legs stretch to move off the bed before your feet land onto the grainy carpet. Your right-hand slips to steady your back, maneuvering your body to scoot to the bed frame, which has become a daily routine, weak fingers gripping the wood until your digits become pale white. Letting out a steady sigh, with all your strength you lift yourself to where you can stand, "Oomf," a small whimper escapes past your lips, tensing at the cringe plaguing your shoulders.

Being seven months pregnant sometimes has its perks, but this isn't one of them. Bending your body forward slightly, you step sluggishly toward your dresser, pulling out maternity clothes lent to you before the move.

"So, when are you going to tell us?" The soft murmur belonging to your mother echoes from the driver's side. Her expression submits an evident mixture of exhaustion and exasperation; though it's been a month since the announcement of your pregnancy, your mother is currently driving you to a doctor's appointment for a checkup on the baby to make sure everything is okay, "we have a right to know."

Arms crossed over your chest in mild annoyance, you bite the corner of your mouth until the side of your head meets the window, getting lost in the line of trees zipping by.

Waddling into the bathroom, the vague memory fades, your hand reaching to turn the knob of the shower. The squeaky sound along with rushing water splatters against the shower curtain sending a soothing jolt of excitement. Chilly air springs goosebumps over your limbs once you're freed of your clothes, waiting patiently for the water to warm before inching into the tub. When steaming liquid soon dribbles among your frame, a grin of satisfaction sparks brief happiness you needed an escape to. The heat of the downpour eases your aching bones, fingers clasping behind your neck to lean your head back, "Oh!" You gasp in surprise when the instant feel of a kick happens within your tummy. Eyes flutter down in the direction of your swollen belly, palms moving to caress it, "Look at you, what are you trying to do? Escape?" Cooing with a light giggle, when the baby kicks again, you can't help the giddy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Now, this- this is what you love about being pregnant. Finishing up, you dry your hair before swiftly dressing along with brushing your teeth.

Thoughts still pertaining to the small life growing inside you, you've decided since your first doctor's visit that you do not want to know your baby's gender until the day that you give birth. When you presented the idea to your mother, she was all on board, proclaiming how she had done that with your younger sibling. Running a brush through your hair, you skim one final look into the mirror formerly then head to exit the bathroom.

Gradually sauntering through the mini hallway, you're more zoned on the way your hand pats upon the wall in some form of maintaining stableness to the point you hardly notice almost slamming into a tall figure.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" A deep voice panics, raising his arms in a way to catch you though your arms mirror the same. Heart ramming, a breath of relief winds past your parted lips- your eyes scanning the slim legs that follow to the handsome face of Kim Namjoon. His eyes enlarged apologetically.

"Oh Namjoon, you scared me," a tender chuckle sets the feel of calm for he sees the amnesty etched in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, [Y/N], I was about to head out to mow the lawn, but just wanted to check and make sure you're okay," he timidly scopes the view of your huge abdomen, gulping once his hands rest loosely at his sides, returning his eyes to search yours before a sweet grin spreads upon your face.

"It's no biggie. Thank you for checking on me,"

His dimples show from the way his lips press in a tight smile, nodding in reply, timorously turning to waltz to the outdoors in preparation of the day ahead. You watch until he disappears from your line of vision; the creep of a blush burning from your chest to your cheeks. Raking your hands through your hair, you force yourself once again to deny the attraction seeping through your soul thankful your blush attacked after he left.

Kim Namjoon works for your father, making sure the church grounds continuously stay clean and cut creating a pretty environment to the eye. Protecting the land is another part of the job description- protecting it from any loiterers, wild animals, protesters, etcetera- maintaining flower bushes encircling the area as well as mini projects your father will want Namjoon to build. The swing set, including the shed, happen to be plans that Namjoon successfully constructed due to your father's wishes. In return, Namjoon is provided a place to live- the room that once held your father's office, is now changed into a bedroom.

It's strange for you to think about it now- how so much has changed in just seven months, when a year ago the church was thriving, unaware of the secrets that clouded within the audience. Squeezing your eyes shut, a reminiscent from the beginning of your pregnancy rears its head causing a tiny brink of nausea to form.

Taehyung's arms drape around you tightly, embracing you in all entirety that your eyes shut against the crook of his neck. Your fingers squeeze his shoulder, legs bent across his thighs while tepid tears spill onto your cheeks.

"Shhh," he tries to comfort, his breath tickling your exposed ear- your face still buried beneath his chin, "It's going to be okay," he whispers just as soft as the flicking fire burning amongst numerous candle wicks. Scents of vanilla blends with birch fitting the dimly lit bedroom that you're thankful exists other than the man refusing to let you go until you feel better.

"How?" You choke back another sob, "How am I going to tell my parents? How am I supposed to confront the church if that's what it comes down to? Shit... My dad is going to fucking kill me," Taehyung's shirt is soaked, but he could care less, tangling his long fingers into your hair to stroke the back of your head.

"Okay, now, you're being dramatic,"

"So, maybe I am? But you know very well that my parents aren't going to take this lightly,"

"Yeah, but I think it's safe to say that telling your parents you're pregnant is far better than if you were to tell them how you truly feel about religion,"

"Okay? Perhaps, you're right," a snippet of a frustrated huff leaves your trembling lips, "especially not with what's been going on with the church, I don't know how much more they can take,"

"Well, your dad should have thought of that before he had an affair with my mom," Taehyung's icy tone brings chills to your frame before he loudly swallows, lips firm from the anger boiling behind his almond eyes. Tendrils of his bright, red hair glow regardless of how dark the atmosphere is, and you hardly hold back the sheer pain stabbing your heart from the guilt you can't help but endure.

"Tae, I'm so so sorry,"

"Hey," he peers down at you, realizing he may have taken his comment too far, even though you're just as angry towards your father as your best friend is, "you didn't know," sniffling back the remaining mucus clogging your nostrils, you desire to face Taehyung no matter how foolish you think you may look, scooting your body to where your palm indents in his mattress next to his legs, his arm now rests around your waist, and for a split second, you're close enough to where the tempting appearance of his striking face beckons the strange glimmer of longing. A longing of curing whatever loneliness you're going through, but you're not the only one experiencing this moment for Taehyung's lips part just enough to plead your attention.

You can't stop yourself, and you don't, because before either of you comprehend, you close the gap letting the delicate wave of his kiss caress yours. "Tae," you breathe against his lips, reuniting with his kiss almost immediately while a dizzy spell of want travels through your chest. You know this isn't right. He knows this isn't right, but too many pent-up emotions between your hearts have gotten out of hand, and for now, all the two of you have is each other. His fingertips move to tenderly trail your jaw, gasping into his mouth when the tip of his tongue circles yours before you move to trap him in a perfect straddle. You need something, anything to feel whole again- something to forget about the people you lost and the people you will lose. And, if there's anyone in this world you do not want to lose it's him.

There's no refraining, there's no hesitation, just the growing pace of the kisses, and the way you're so enthralled with how beautiful he feels squeezing you tighter to him. "[Y/N]," he moans, hating himself for how far he wants to go with you, yet he craves your touch, nearly supplicates for it. You want to feel his skin, and the aching throb below you seems to deafen any other screams of stopping, and yet, your fingers move to the end of his shirt, peeling it just enough to expose the solid wall of his abdomen. "[Y/N]," he stops you, breaking the final kiss, his hand covering your wrist, while your eyes frantically search the side of his face, "We- we can't,"

You haven't seen him since, because of the boundaries that were crossed and would have been farther crossed if Taehyung had not had the strength to stop. The pair of you have been best friends since childhood, and neither of you wants to take anything beyond for the sake of feeling empty, but he assured you that night, even after your panic of apologies pouring from your mouth, after the humiliation that shackled your system, even after the daunting assumption that your friendship was over- he cupped your cheek, promising that he was still here and that he would never end your attachment over something, you both will never regret.

It's a secret you've suppressed for some time. Taehyung calls every so often when he can; dealing with his broken-hearted father on top of two jobs consumes every bit of his time. Yet, you can't help but miss him, the one person who loyally stayed by your side even when you came forward to your friends about your pregnancy. And, the one friend who still loves you all the same, even after discovering his mother's affair with your father.

Rage isn't enough to describe the resentment against your father, and ever since you told your parents that you were expecting, and ever since your move, you haven't spoken to him. You'll never forget how torn your mother was- depression weighing heavy on her, and that's something that's hard to forgive.

Your mother looks frail as she twiddles the crumpled tissue in her hands. Tears brim her eyes through the silence in the car, sparse sniffles breaking your heart into a million pieces. The two of you had just come back from the grocery store to restock the kitchen in your recently new home and are now parked at the church's back door to drop you off. You hesitated upon leaving because the thought of your mother having to return home to a place of remorse is the last thing you want for her. The promise of a car was granted to you, but you turned it down, refusing to accept anything from the man who caused so much pain to your family. To Taehyung's family.

Running the tissue underneath her eyes, she speaks, "[Y/N]?"

"Yeah?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but the guilt from how stressed your mother has been is something you wish you could carry instead of her. After the betrayal of your father as well as him resigning from the church to send people away from the place they once sought refuge in- on top of her oldest daughter being pregnant with her first child is already a lot to handle. The other frustration you bite your tongue from expressing is the fact of your parents refusing to let you get a job until the time after you give birth. You want to make the money to provide for yourself and your son or daughter without the dependence upon your parents- your mother especially, yet you're grateful for her adamancy on keeping you from any risks outside of the walls of your home.

It takes a moment before your mother gathers her words, "Do you- do you think you could ask Namjoon to help take you to the hospital? Whenever it's time... for you to have the baby?"

It was easier for your mother to ask that of you because he lived in the same building, and if any emergency of your water breaking happened earlier than expected, at least you would have someone available to take you to the hospital. Your gaze clears from the zone out you've had the whole time standing in the entrance of the hallway before Namjoon left. Turning on a heel, you decide to return to your bed, slipping under the covers- you're too wide awake to sleep as of now, yet the foam of the mattress eases the soreness of your back once you lean against the pillows.

-Four months earlier-

Queasiness envelops your abdomen to where you recognize the cue, rushing to the porcelain throne to heave whatever yellow liquid is left- spurting it into the toilet while you grimace through the pain. The door swings open behind you mixed with heavy footsteps quickening to you. When large hands swoop to hold your hair back, you don't have the strength to look at the intruder due to the continuous retching that deems you defenseless.

"It's okay, it's okay," the deep voice is soft, and relief brings tears to your eyes when you recognize it to be Kim Namjoon. You're embarrassed once your stomach gives you a break, your palms pressing to your forehead while you slump against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Namjoon scatters to find a tissue, patting the corners of your lips.

"You don't have to be sorry,"

"That... wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

A knowing glance is all he must give for you to share whatever thoughts you can't bring yourself to voice. He was your friend before all of this, yet you failed to mention to him about the pregnancy, and with him being the worker of the Church- he didn't discover your budding stomach until the day you moved in. His eyes flicker away from your stare toward the slight protrusion of your baby bump due to your ruffled t-shirt. He settles on the floor across from you, silence being the only conversation held. He isn't one to hold anger, and though you kept him unaware until your third month of pregnancy, he refuses to leave your side, making a pact to himself he will do whatever it takes to provide the care that you will need. As well as the little one.

Despite the emotional roller coaster, you remain amazed with how he keeps his patience with you. A day of depression to a random bout of laughter- memories turning of the betrayals of close friends who judged you immediately the day you put your trust in them- the freedom you craved away from the sheltered life your father forced upon you- even days where you can't seem to put your tears on pause, yet Namjoon holds you through every grieve.

"What if... what if I'm not good enough?" Your voice shakes between sobs- you had been dreaming restlessly yet another night, tossing within your bed to the point Namjoon came to check on you- rushing to pull you into his arms the moment your eyes fluttered to reveal pained tears. Your words nearly shatter him- pulling away just enough to where his eyes lock with yours.

"How can you say that, [Y/N]?" The faint light of your lampshade causes his face to glisten- angelically, you decide, yet the shadowing doubt of motherhood plagues you still, because what if you genuinely can't care for the child that you're six months away from holding? Fears encompass you like an ocean, smashing along your mind in harsh waves. "Look at me," are the words that snap you from whatever sea you were suffocating in to realize you had unintentionally switched your gaze from him. It's the calming effect the warmth of Namjoon's eyes bring when he exposes whatever faith he has in the woman you are and will become. "You're going to do just fine, believe me, I know it,"

Sniffling, you run the back of your hand along your chin where an escapee of a tear dangled, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because when have you ever given up on anyone that you care about," it's not a question, he's stating what he knows to be a fact. Something he learned of you when he first was hired to tend to the property. "You're stubborn when it comes to winning someone over. I was determined not to befriend anyone here. But you changed that for me, remember?"

A knowing tug of a smile trembles into a stretch upon your lips, "I do,"

"Same with the baby. I know you will love that little one more than life itself. It doesn't have a choice, and you'll let him or her know the second they're born,"

When a hearty snicker leaves your mouth, you notice the sticky feel of your drying face- you are no longer crying.

"You don't have to do this alone, [Y/N]. You showed me that even when I didn't know what else to do. Now, get some rest, okay? You have a doctor's appointment bright and early," the bed creaks from the gradual movement of Namjoon standing,

"Wait!" You speak before you can stop yourself, Namjoon immediately pausing- the heat of his arms is felt beneath your palms from your pounce of panic, and with evident chagrin, you shyly stare at his chest, "Can you uh, ... Can you stay in here with me tonight?" You've refrained from asking sooner due to the shame of not telling him the news that's become apparent, and even now, you haven't been able to comprehend how he's not the slightest bit angry with you. When his arms encircle you closer to his frame, no words need to be said because he's already answered by just this gesture. Nuzzling into his embrace, the side of his chin pressed to your forehead, "Whoever it is, I hope they grow up to be half the person that you are," you whisper, squeezing him tighter, infinite smiles now ending the night that cures any ounce of uncertainty.

By the fifth month of pregnancy, you finally come to the realization of how selfish you have been- it's no longer about you and your needs; it is now about the needs of your son or daughter growing within you. Namjoon catered to every grocery store trip, stocking the kitchen and in return, you choose to cook for him every meal, hoping to show as much appreciation to him that you can.

"Have you thought about any names?" Taehyung's voice muses on the other line of the phone, the sound of him bringing a small smirk upon your face. You've missed him terribly so, yet the acceptance of surprise phone calls is all you can settle with for now. At his question though, you pause with the tilt of your head, taking a quick sip of the broth that you're currently heating on the stove.

"No?" It's a brief question of guilt, something you haven't been ready to ponder, "Honestly... haven't thought that far ahead yet," you add in the vegetables to boil within the broth.

The familiar, deep chuckle is all you hear to gain an idea of what your best friend is about to say next, "I should have known,"

"Alright, Birkenstocks. What do you mean by that?"

"Breezing past that mistake. You named your Parakeet, Bird,"

"Well, in my defense, I was seven years of age,"

"And in my defense, playing basketball in Birkenstocks was supposed to start a trend,"

"Since how? I-"

"Ask Hoseok,"

"You lost a bet didn't you-"

"And, I will pay for it for the rest of my life, now won't I?"

"With me around, you will,"

Hoseok is the deacon's son who's dream of fashion has been shunned by his family, yet he designs in a sketchbook Taehyung hides for whenever Hoseok and he share the same work shifts. He's not one you have had the opportunity to communicate much with, but you're thankful Taehyung has someone to maintain a friendship with while you two have been apart. A short response of silence settles while your cheek and shoulder squeeze the phone for a moment as you stir the steaming vegetables.

"You could have named the bird, Tweety at least-"

"Oh!" You playfully growl, "Back with that again, huh?"

"Do I need to send you a link of baby names-"

"I promise you, Tae, I do not plan on naming my child, Kid, okay?"

"You'd be surprised-"

Taehyung's excitement for his future Godchild brings a simmering joy to the surface of your pattering heart. Almost as equal to the eagerness, your mother has shown with this being her first grandchild. Graciously, your mother has never been as strict as your father, hence why the past five months have gone much smoother then they would have if your father had never had an affair with Mrs. Kim.

The phone call ends whenever dinner is finished, and by that time, Namjoon scuffles through the door- the outdoorsy scent drifts to your nose while you place the sweltering bowls of soup on the table. Namjoon shimmers his feet from his work boots before hanging his coat, timidly glimpsing in your direction to confirm you're okay.

Small talk ensues with the typical questions of how each of your days has gone once the pair of you take your seats. One secret, yet another you and Taehyung have harbored, is the awareness of Namjoon's atheism- something your father must never learn of his worker. Namjoon, who will not admit it, works on the church grounds in order to provide for his family who lives a few miles up the road. Ultimately, there are many secrets not worth sharing to your parents, not only for the sake of sanity but for the protection of the ones who you've kept close, especially Namjoon. With your father being the tyrant of a priest, he used to be, there is still the potential distress of him firing Namjoon over the mere difference of beliefs. Something you refuse to let happen while you're around.

Clinking spoons replace conversation, for how long, you're uncertain; the fog of your thoughts seem to consume upon one in particular- something that has remained festering long enough, yet you have never said it aloud- figuring this moment may be the time that you do. Namjoon confided in you and Taehyung once he found comfort in trusting the pair of you- even subjects that one would have never expected him to open about. Guilt presents itself to the point your eyes squeeze shut, opening them to move your spoon to play at a piece of broccoli swimming in the potage.

"They don't know," your words are careful- slow even- continuing your vision on the dinner before you. You can feel Namjoon's soft eyes on you, his expression confused. "They don't know who the father is," that's when your gaze trails to meet his eyes just for more guilt to manifest behind them. By they, you're referring to your parents, as well as every other soul excluding Taehyung, "I won't tell them." Namjoon slowly nods with the sense of understanding, knowing the cost that will be taken if your father were to know who you're trying to bury beneath this web of fear. "Besides," you sigh heavily, "I'm surprised my father was lenient enough to let me live here," you confess, "if he wasn't so guilty over the affair, I would be homeless-"

"I wouldn't let that happen," Namjoon says suddenly, destroying whatever anger you were dwelling upon. Your mouth falls open in shock at his words and the frilly flutter of your heartbeat is hard to ignore. After living here for two months, he's proven time and time again that he means what he says; what he just said. Speechless, the rest of dinner continues in fond silence, your heart refusing to steady for the man slowly captivating your heart.

The sixth month of pregnancy gifts swollen feet and aching bones on top of your belly growing heavier by the week. Namjoon has stayed loyal- tending to your pregnancy cravings in the dead of night, aiding to your discomfort whether it involves a heating pack or a cup of ice, slipping under the covers on nights you want him to hold you, driving you to every doctor's appointment without any hesitation; with all that he's been doing for you, it's like your feelings have blossomed deeper which you know shouldn't be happening with the peril of your father finding out. The unexpected visits from your father are few, yet you usher the reminder to yourself of protecting Namjoon, though he carries the weight of facing your father instead of you who avoids the confrontation.

Night comes quickly after a day spent cleaning up the nursery that seems to be coming together, other than the crib Namjoon's been building- something you accidentally discovered when strolling close to the shed one sunny day. He's so dedicated to the unborn infant, it nearly brings you to tears, glancing around the elegant hues of multiple pastel colors painted across the room with stuffed animals, blankets, and furniture he continues to gift you amongst different items your mother has added to the collection. You always enjoy the sporadic visits from your mother, because she's free to celebrate the life that she refuses to consider as a sin.

"Are you thinking boy or girl?" Your mother elbowed your side earlier today after moving around the furniture.

"Hm," you hummed happily, thankful for the relationship that's being redeemed with her, "you know? I'm not very sure,"

"I can tell from all the colors you've chosen," she teased, "it looks beautiful," she cooed, pulling you into an accomplished side hug. You didn't want to stick to just pink or blue, so you chose every other shade in between, colliding the space with colors that could go for either or. "You're going to be a wonderful mother,"

The sound of the front door opens distracting you from the former memory, staring down at the table that now rests heaping plates of chicken and rice. The fellowship hall used to be filled with numerous rows of horizontal tables mingled with circular ones where the crowd would come to camaraderie to joyful hymnals, delicious food, reflected testimonies without any warning of the secrecies soon floating to the surface. Now a solo table, the one planted before you, pairs with a few sparse chairs just enough to seat at least four people.

"Hiya," you greet, trying to ignore the subtle increase of your heartbeat. Namjoon flashes a kid-like smile once he shutters out of his jacket, "How was your day?"

"It was good, thank you," he replies, taking long strides until he makes it to you, "How was yours with your mom?" His right-hand steadies the small of your back while his left one clutches yours to help settle you into your seat. It's hard to focus on the question he just asked when the scent from outside seems to heighten the attraction you already feel towards him, "It was good," you manage to say, reaching for the silverware to begin digging into your food, "Thank you... For helping me," the distance between your stomach and the table now is something you've been trying to get used to as well as the turmoil of trying to stand and sit.

"Anytime."

A blush floods your cheeks when he holds your timorous stare, so you avert your eyes to your dinner, letting the obvious feeling of Namjoon watching deepen the red shade on your skin. A few minutes disappear into time before you feel a shove against your abdomen from the inside. Your hand instinctively flies to press upon the baby bump, Namjoon jumping at the motion, stopping mid-chew, while his eyes enlarge in surprise.

"It's okay," you chortle at his reaction, "it's just the baby kicking," his response reminds you of the moment you felt the baby kick for the very first time- similar to a weird flutter that's hard to describe, and it had taken you a second to realize what it was exactly- just your baby making its presence known to you. Namjoon swallows the bite of food in a nervous gulp, the pang of his silverware mutes from where he lays it on the napkin.

"Here," you murmur affectionately preparing to stand to your feet. Namjoon immediately jolts from his chair, rounding the table to gather your hand in his. Instead of relying on his strength to help you position yourself, you plop back onto the seat, sliding his hand to the area where the baby kicked a few minutes prior. Namjoon kneels to level with you, his plump lips ajar mirroring the widen stance of his eyes while he patiently waits, his nervous heart pounding in his temples. It's the exuberant joy in his smile that meets his eyes in a dazzling glow the pure second the baby kicks again, and the bliss of delight smothers your heart in so many ways imaginable at this moment the pair of you are capturing together. Your hand remains resting upon his while your eyes lock repudiating from breaking contact.

"I told you that you don't have to do this alone," he whispers, and it's then you come to the awareness of how near his face is from yours, his dimples visible from his smile to the point you press your lips to each one, shocked at your act of boldness, but you can't refrain. He's too handsome and too wonderful to stay away from any longer. That's all the invitation needed, for Namjoon's lips brush yours igniting the sparks of what you've been trying to suppress for way too long. Your fingers find his hair when he leans to deepen the kiss, moving his hands to rest on the chair, fingers pressing into the wood until pale white.

At this moment, you don't care what anyone thinks.

You are in love with Kim Namjoon, and there is nothing in this world that's going to scare you away from that.

-Present day-

The pitch black outside the window brings frustration when you awaken to scold yourself for how long you've slept. Gathering yourself once the fatigue rolls off, you cautiously sit up, scooting to the bedpost until you're on your feet. Taking a trip to the restroom, you notice upon exiting the clock on the wall reads seven pm, and you wonder if Namjoon has made it inside for the evening. It's eerily quiet save for the air conditioning, but you pause when you see the lights are on in the main area of the building. Shrugging, you waddle around the corner until the sudden shouts of, "SURPRISE!", nearly knocks you to the ground.

Gasping, your eyes widen while your hand flies to your chest. A prolonged second interferes before your brain deciphers the two individuals cheering before you. Numerous pink and blue balloons hover to the top of the ceiling matching the colors of a cloth decorating the one table now adorned with a cake and wrapped gifts. "What?" You can barely speak from the light headiness taking over, but the tears that well in your eyes when you see the boxy smile of your best friend sends you in an attempt to run just to crash into his arms. He meets you halfway, surrounding you within his embrace as he rocks you back and forth muffling your wails of joy into his checkered sweater. Your soaked cheeks are wiped away from the material as been done countless times before, and his tepid palms squish your cheeks when he steps back to gesture toward your belly.

"Wow look at you! Your belly is huge!"

"I'm still in denial of how fast this pregnancy is going!" You say breathlessly, you're so happy to see Taehyung, you can hardly contain your composure. Namjoon steps forward with his hand reaching to squeeze your best friend's shoulder. Taehyung's fiery strands are curled upon his forehead, lustrous beneath the lights as it always has before, "Your father let you come?" There's a seriousness behind your voice at the question because you are cognizant of the fury Tae's father has against the church from the events that occurred what, in some ways feels like a lifetime ago.

"Well, no," Taehyung winces mischievously, "I told him that Namjoon and I were going to a basketball game,"

"Of course, you did, you sly fox,"

"You know you love me," Tae pecks your forehead before leading you to the table where the sweet whiff of cake flatters your nostrils.

"You guys didn't have to do this," you're still wiping tears off your face, though it's evident that your crying is from untainted gratitude, "What did I do to deserve the two of you?"

Namjoon kneels, intertwining his long fingers with yours, using the tip of his thumb to tickle circles upon your skin, "Taehyung mentioned how when you were kids that you loved surprises, especially if it involved a small party of some sort so," he tilts his head toward Taehyung, "And I knew how much you missed him, too. I just wanted to do something to celebrate you. And, the baby,"

It doesn't take much to smother this man in kisses nowadays, and once you express your thankfulness to the men before you, Namjoon reads your mind, snatching a small kiss in return.

"You two are on kissing terms, again?" Taehyung teases while you poke your tongue at him in mild embarrassment. Namjoon does not know of the moment you and Tae shared, and that's something you're not ready to talk about, and with the cutesy scrunch of Namjoon's face, the memory escapes to the back of your mind for now.

By the end of the night, the frosting had met all three of your faces- some smushed into Taehyung's hair while some swiped across Namjoon's neck, and your eyebrows are smeared along with the possible suspicion of some getting up your nose. Cleaning the mess takes a while, but nobody in the room would trade it for anything, and it's good stalling to prevent the night from completely ending.

Walking Taehyung to his car is the only dread overwhelming your system because you're not sure of when you will get to see him next. Tears flood your eyes, breaking Taehyung's heart as an awe of shame gusts past his lips, "I'm sorry, [Y/N]. My dad's expecting me home soon,"

"I don't want you to go," you choke, on the brink of bursting at the seams- Tae fumbles to tighten his arms behind your back- him trying to be mindful of your abdomen being pressed too firmly against his frame.

"Please don't cry," he whispers near your ear, "Please, please don't cry," His lips curl from the tears burning within his own eyes wishing with all his strength he could rid of the aching hurt that has kept your friendship separated. Tae swiftly pulls away when he remembers another present, he meant to give you earlier, whirling around to unlock his car, bending into the vehicle while his hands shuffle around the floorboard in a desperate search for whatever he wants to show you. When he turns to face you, a sharp inhale of glee echoes into the night- the lopsided plush of a heart is attached to a blue body ornamented with yellow polka dots that match its mouth. "Oh my gosh!" You squeal, "Tae, it's adorable! Where did you find this?"

Wiggling his eyebrows in pride, he hands it to you, "I made it myself. And," he pauses for effect, "since you have trouble naming things, I did the honors and named it for you. I introduce, Ta Ta."

"Ta Ta?"

"Yeah, like 'Ta Ta... for now,'"

"Just when I thought I couldn't love your dork of a self even more," you exhale, slamming your eyes shut just to bury your face further into his chest, not able to breathe in his scent from the clog of mucus stuffing your nose.

"I love you, too." His voice thickens with emotion, "Now, quit saying it like you're never going to see me again, because you know I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" Your cold nose moves to press into the corner of his jaw where steady breaths move between your parting mouth. It's a serene moment where he turns just enough to glimpse at you, engaging in the beauty he's always found within your heart. Taehyung's agape lips now rest centimeters from yours when his large hands raise to rest his fingertips along your flushed cheeks- the curls of his frizzy hair pressing to your forehead, prickling your closing eyes. You discover your free hand enfolding around his wrist from the daunting desire looming from what's been left unspoken, and the shiver in his breathing brushes your chin once the light touch of his nose cuddles to yours. You both stand there for a seeming reel of eternity, battling the inward mayhem of choice that's displayed itself on the invisible line tempting to be traversed.

"I promise."

He hadn't kissed you, but there was no denial that he wanted to, especially with the way your face has haunted his dreams since the night your lips met in emotional patterns of sorrow. But, deep down, he knows it's too obvious of a choice if the one for him is to be you, but the love that has been kept for you will never go away. The same as a tether of your heart will forever be his no matter how deep your love goes for someone else. Kim Taehyung will always be your poise- your muse- the soulmate of a friendship that you will always need.

Toddling to the nursery upon Tae's departure still presents the boiling tears from your tired eyes dripping off your cheeks as you set Ta Ta beside the koala plushie Namjoon gifted you; the humor involving the struggle of both Taehyung and Namjoon carrying the crib Namjoon built for the baby taunts a smirk at the corner of your lips. It's dark besides the faint light of the hallway behind you, giving you just enough to admire the scenery around you- sniffling back what you can before reaching to cover your quivering chin with your hand. You've missed Taehyung. You miss him. And, how beautiful of Namjoon to surprise you with your best friend's presence? Reuniting the three musketeers from once upon a time?

Little do they know, from the unearthing of your pregnancy to now, the two men have mended your broken heart and stitched it back together again piece by piece. You're highly uncertain of where you would be without them, and just the thought alone is one you refuse to dwell on. While memories turn like a spindle of loosened thread, a revelation halts you in your tracks. The thought rings loud and clear gracing a wide smile on your face while one more set of tears dampen the corner of your eyes.

After scolding yourself for so long for not thinking hard enough on the subject,

right here, hands grasping the handlebar of your future child's cradle,

you finally have a name picked out for your little one.

2 months later....

"Namjoon, I'll be fine," the pointed look you flash him prompts a nervous chuckle once his hands rest to rub gently along your sides. He's concerned as he's been almost the entire pregnancy, but of course, now his worries are heightened to an extreme, "I'm not due until next week. Don't worry,"

"I know," he groans, tugging you closer just enough to plant a warm to kiss to your neck, "But, I can't help it."

"I'll be fine," you drag the word with a teasing sound of a whine. Namjoon shaking his head at you with a smile you're now feeling upon your lips. "Mm," you hum into his kiss, your hands sliding to squeeze his shoulders in reaction to how impeccable it feels. You end the moment simply to gaze at him, "You'll be back before you know it," you assure him- his trip to the grocery store being the plan for the afternoon.

"Okay," he says tenderly, eyes flickering to your lips once more before leaning to brush them to his own, "I love you,"

There's a small pause, one that entails warmth smothering your chest in giddy sensations when his eyes steal yours after pulling away, "I love you, too, Joon," watching him head out the door until the truck disappears along the road.

Of course, the day doesn't go accordingly the way you expect, because on carefully prodding to the kitchen in preparation to cook breakfast, a slight ache ensues within your abdomen. "Oh," you groan, stroking the area with your fingertips before deciding to lay down for a bit instead. When reaching your room, the sharp pain of a cramp returns causing a harsh cringe as you lean against your bedpost, hardly able to concentrate on the attempt of climbing onto the mattress. You remain hunched over for five minutes, forcing slow breaths to prevent from panicking, and when you find the coast to be clear, you straighten yourself out.

Suddenly, before you can comprehend what's happening, a gush of water splatters onto the carpet soaking your feet in the process.

"No," you whisper, eyes frantically scanning your room for your cell phone. Namjoon shouldn't be far with the grocery store only being a few miles away, but in order to get a hold of him, you must find your only way of contacting him. Hands pat your bed, thrusting off the bed covers and shaking them roughly, yet no 'thump' is heard before you cast the covers in a pile onto the ground. The next destination leads to the restroom, with no luck of your phone being in your bedroom- when another wave of pain shoots within your stomach, you gasp, trying to endure through the discomfort with all your might.

Leaving a water trail behind with every step you take, you desperately search the countertops before stepping into the area that holds the kitchen, wondering if there is any possibility it may have been left behind there. Your feet meet the cool surface of the tile floor, your gape scanning the entirety of the space before a pant of relief escapes past your dry lips the second your shaking hands gather the device. "Agh!" A contraction surges, hands squeezing your phone unintentionally, yet you grimace just enough to maintain your focus on the task at hand. Managing to get the phone ringing, it doesn't take long until you hear the man of your dreams at the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Joon, it's time," you choke, voice thick with pain.

"Oh, shit! Hold on tight, I'm on my way, just hold tight, I'm coming-"

You just happen to be running by the church in favor of dropping off the work truck keys to your father when he unintentionally introduces you to the new employee you assume he plans to hire, "[Y/N], this is Kim Namjoon. He's going to be taking care of the church grounds for us, isn't that wonderful?"

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," you greet, underlyingly suffering from the attraction swarming to your reddening cheeks. When your father mentioned of hiring, you never anticipated the person to be this overwhelmingly breathtaking.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ma'am," Namjoon's polite nod mirrors the dimples evident from a soft grin, his hand reaching for yours to shake before your father continues the tour of the place you've grown up memorizing. But something initiates you to stay, eyes lingering on the back of the tall figure decked in a turtleneck covered by a green jacket complementing a pair of jeans along with brown shoes. There's a spark of intuition that day, one that ignited the prominent determination that you want to get to know this person even if your father ends up finding out.

Namjoon busts through the door with pure alarm etched in his voice, "[Y/N], I'm here! Baby, I'm right here," he immediately jumps to where you are, keeled over on the floor, throwing his arm around you until he lifts you out of the fellowship hall and into the work truck. Words you attempt to form are muted by whimpers, tears brimming your eyes from the pain that doesn't end, "I'm going to grab the suitcase, I'll be right back," time must be faster than you can measure for Namjoon arrives, slinging the suitcase into the backseat before slamming into the driver's side.

It takes a while for the newly found employee to warm up to every opportunity you take in order to get to know him. One thing he's slowly but surely learning is that you're not one to give up so easily- something you've noticed him picking up on, especially on days, you annoy him when he's on call to build a project. You make it clear to talk to him nonstop until he acknowledges your existence, and the times he doesn't breathe a word results in a call to Taehyung.

"Come help me," you plea hearing Taehyung's exasperated sigh on the other line.

"You are so annoying,"

"You know you love me, fool," you gloat because with defeat, your best friend reluctantly joins you, even accompanying a basketball just in case if Namjoon happens to fancy sports. Your girlfriends, Luna and Jo, were informed of your undying crush on the mysterious worker, crossing their arms in jealousy that you half-heartedly ignored.

"He doesn't even come to the services," Jo droned, "Don't you think it'd be best to get to know someone that's more... active in the church? Like the pianist's son, Min Yoongi. You two had such a cute relationship when you were three-"

You can't get past why no one seems to understand that you must win Namjoon over, and though Luna and Jo have seen the world along with you since childhood, you roll your eyes, turning on a heel, "I'll catch you later,"

Tires screech along the road while Namjoon swerves past cars on the highway, hands ghost white from the tight grasp he has upon the steering wheel. Meanwhile, your hand grips the bar above you while your other rests upon your belly- the keenness of getting to hold your baby in your arms is all you're thinking about other than Namjoon who's keeping you sane.

"Just a few more miles and we will be there. Just breathe," his voice is unsteady from the fright of this situation, but he upholds his enlarged gaze upon the road. He fumbles for his phone- trying to contact anyone from your family in order to tell them the news.

"GAH!" Leaning forward, a wail echoes within the vehicle as another contraction attacks.

"You guys aren't going to stop until I'm your friend, am I right?" Namjoon's elbows are folded from the hold he has on the basketball meeting his chest. Tae jumps sporadically in front of him with outspread arms preparing to prevent the ball from flying into the hoop.

"Damn straight," you shrug your shoulders in observation of Namjoon's tilting head.

"I thought church girls didn't cuss,"

"And I thought you'd have more game than the basketball," You retort.Tae halts, straightening his frame, eyes flickering between you and a quiet Namjoon, "Now hurry up. If you win, I will leave you alone for good. If Tae wins then we treat you to dinner and a movie. How does that sound?"

With an incredulous shake of his head, Namjoon smirks, "Okay," the scuffle of his converse is heard on the pavement when he briefly turns to toss the ball toward the hoop. The basketball pangs the ring, twirling ferociously to the point, your heart begins to sink, but to your pleasure, the ball tips off the rim, landing in a rejoicing Taehyung's arms.

"HAH!" You sprint, colliding into Taehyung's embrace while Namjoon tries to stifle the smile overtaking his lips, "Looks like it's going to be a burger and fries' kind of night," you wink, unaware of the hope that Namjoon has of wanting to gain your friendship just as much.

The hospital entrance appears after the rush of Namjoon turning into the parking lot soon helping you out of the truck. The suitcase will have to wait being he can retrieve it later, his ultimate goal is getting you within the building to where you're safe. "It's okay, it's okay," he tries to appear relaxed, but everything becomes a blur until a nurse with fluffy, black hair approaches with a wheelchair to help settle you in. His nametag reads 'JIMIN' – him rolling you quickly down the hall when the presence of a female nurse whose nametag reads 'MONNIE' helps you change into the nightgown upon arrival of the hospital room. Voices are mingling together from the pounding in your temples, but Monnie keeps her hands gentle on your back to lead you to the bed where she hooks you up to what seems like a million machines whilst providing as much comfort to you as possible.

Namjoon's calloused hand covers yours when one other nurse, Jungkook, floods the room, bringing a chair for him to sit in. You're not sure of all the commotion that's overwhelming the room, but you steady your breathing as Namjoon directs, squeezing his hand through each contraction. You recognize the doctor, Kim Seokjin, a tall man already dawned in a scrub hat, mouth mask and gloves, scurrying to where you are, "Alright, I am going to check your dilation Ms. [Y/N], just breathe in and out." Slamming your eyes shut, you whimper from the discomfort, "Alright, she is dilated three centimeters. Once you are at ten centimeters [Y/N], you will begin pushing. No worries, I will alert you as soon as I need you to begin. Keep breathing. Everything will be okay,"

"Taehyung... My mom... Dad-" you murmur deliriously between breaths, the foggy sense of your conscious outweighing how to speak properly.

"No worries baby, they're on their way. They're on their way right now," he sweetly kisses your perspired forehead, running his free hand through your tangled hair.

The three musketeers were official after the day at the basketball hoop, eventually learning of Namjoon's atheism as well as him providing for his family.

"My dad couldn't find a job that pays enough, so I promised him that I will do whatever it takes," it had been six months since Namjoon had been hired, and currently is finishing his final paint to the shed while you and Taehyung sit Indian style in the grass. "Thanks to the job here, I can afford the rent for my parents as well as give them my car since here, I just use the work truck..." Namjoon sharing more in-depth with his life story- you finally get what you've been determined to gain since meeting him.

It's weeks later that you'll never forget, leaning against a mini, red monkey bar after sharing your feelings toward the man you've grown so fond of. There's no denying the feelings he's had for you, and once he inches closer, the crave to hold his hand has never been stronger. Boldly, your fingers trail to intertwine with his, your nerves close to getting the best of you despite the persistent smile that hasn't left him. When you find the bravery to look up at him, he swallows calmly before leaning in, you stand on your tiptoes to meet halfway until your lips touch. The slide of his arms encompassing your frame feels so inviting when he presses his body to yours. The world is put on pause to you and nothing else matters other than the way his lips move so elegantly- your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he sways you from side to side.

Time doesn't seem to speed up through all this pain, but the adrenaline swimming in your veins peaks when Dr. Seokjin prepares to check your dilation again. "Ten centimeters-" He confirms, "Alright, [Y/N], the baby's coming. When I say push, you push. Okay," he positions himself though you can't see anything past your gown and raised knees, "One, two, three! Push!"

"AGH!" You grunt, a small scream vibrating at the back of your throat once you push with every fiber of strength, you can muster.

"Breathe, breathe," Namjoon's hand hasn't once left yours- sweat pouring from your scalp while the burning agony overpowers your body.

"Is she here!?" The click of darting heels enters the room and are loud enough for it to catch your attention. "Oh, honey, I'm here!" It's your mother- scampering to your side with the undeniable blur of Taehyung's red hair following suit. You want to ask where your father is, but before a chance is given, the doctor shouts, "Push!"

"AAAAAAAGH!" You manage, body straining in all its entireness. Taehyung jolts to let you squeeze his hand along with Namjoon's. His features show nothing but fear at the sight of you being in so much strife, yet he holds it together enough to cheer you on.

"I'm- I'm so glad you both are here," you cry- another sixty seconds drifting before the shout of, "Push!" erupts.

"I'm scared," you murmur in the dimness of the room. On your knees, Namjoon's soothing hands glide along the tops of your thighs motivating you to run your hands along his forearms. You don't know where your parents are, and you're too angry to care. You're bushed of the fighting so, you sought comfort in being here, with Namjoon. Taehyung dropped you off at the fellowship hall with the promise of not breathing a word- because if your parents were to find out remotely of your whereabouts, you'd hate to discover what the consequences will be.

"Me too," his nervous eyes investigate every inch of your face. You've never been with anyone this way before- secretly hidden away from the world outside trying to suppress the revealing crave of what you're curious about. Scooting forward, you drape either leg around him, propping yourself enough to where your arms lace around his neck.

His breath hitches from the gesture- your lips erotically aligning with his in slow movements, heat rising below you when you feel the hardening of his being beneath your sense, "I want you," you whisper. He knows that you're a virgin, and with care, he lays you on the bed, hovering above your frame where your bodies align perfectly. "Are you sure this is what you want," concern consumes his countenance, but you desperately bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I don't think I've wanted anyone so much in my life,"

You gasp into his kiss where he slips his tongue along yours- the sensation one you've grown used to from the slovenly kisses leading up to this very night. You give Namjoon permission to sneak his large hands underneath your shirt, trailing up your ribcage before swallowing your breasts whole in his heated palms. Nipples so sensitive, your heat drenches the moment he realizes the effect it has on you just by merely brushing the rising buds, lipping at your neck while he basks in the beauty of your moans. "More," you beg, "Please, Joon, more." When clothes start to be thrown off, you're determined to pleasure him, but have not an idea on how to do so. "Show me," you breathlessly demand, Namjoon's palm leading yours to encircle his twitching being. You stroke his erection as shown, biting your lower lip from the throbbing feeling of your core- him instantly finding your entrance to fill it with his fingers as carefully as he can- both of you pleasuring each other, yet still getting lost in kissing so deeply, the two of you forget to gasp for air. The sensation of heated pressed bare skin can be the most beautiful thing, especially with the way your legs entangle with his. You're surprised the feel of his prodding fingers didn't bring as much discomfort as you would have originally anticipated, but when he brings a hand to his penis, he rubs his tip along your slit letting the sloppy sound of you leak onto it. "Holy shit," he moans from how soaked you are for him- his fingertips finding your clit while yours dig into the backs of his shoulders.

Smoldering kisses move from your lips to your breasts, down your abdomen to your inner thighs where you tense underneath his touch that slides to hold your bottom half where he can scan your heat. The tip of his tongue swipes upon your slit excruciatingly slow to the point your fingers tangle with the material of the bedsheets. The smacking sound of his lips savor your taste while his tongue circles your core- you're hyperventilating from how deliciously he flicks his tongue upon your slit, screaming his name relentlessly- the speed of his skilled mouth driving you wild from the growing climax beckoning your stiffening thighs, "Oh, Namjoon, oh- Joon- I- Oh!"

He's not ready for you to finish because there's more he wants to show you. Hovering above you once again to see you coming down from your high, your heaving chest longs for his touch, and he nearly comes undone from the smile embellishing your face. His tracing fingertips parade along the outline of your body in featherlike tickles while the sounds of panting breaths mingle with shifting sheets bring subtle music to your ears for the rest of the night. The gentle parting of his lips grasps your own in smooth movements persuading arousal streaming from your core. Your fingers now link with frilly tufts of his hair, gripping the strands in reaction to the pressing of his bare chest to yours, dreaming of nothing more than to be entwined with him for what you hope will be forever. Hips grinding into yours prompts the light moan teasing his ears for more before his mouth trails to pause above your pounding heart. His hair brushing your chin, your arms glide to wrap around him holding the hope that he will never let you go. Not even for a second.

"Alright, one more! Almost done! Push!"

Sucking in one long breath, with a compulsory scream, you push with all you have left in you. Exhaustion weakens your limbs, yet a rush of relief floods your body when the cries of an infant reverberate within the room. With heavy eyes, you turn to see your mother with tears cascading down her face and onto the back of her hand covering her agape mouth- eyes remaining locked in front of her. Taehyung's gaze doesn't drop though his fingers loosen from yours at the small bundle immediately apprehending the eyes of every individual. Right then, you move your head to your other side where Namjoon gradually rises in awe- his hand still has yours. Gathering any ounce of strength, you're ready to see the child you've been waiting to hold for nine months, so cautiously you sit up until your stare meets Dr. Seokjin's. You can see the smile in his eyes despite the mouth mask, and what he says next brings you to tears, "It's a girl,"

"Oh!" You thrill, anxious to meet her while the nurses scurry to clean her up.

"Sir, would you like to do the honors?" The doctor gestures a pair of scissors towards a stiffened Namjoon whose eyes are welled with hushed tears. He can't even speak, yet he nods from the happiness exploding beneath his chest.

"Wait," Your mom says, "Is- is?"

It's a moment that seems to fit the setting for your father walks in, as if on cue, shoulders slumped from the anticipating tension now darkening the room. Taehyung's shoulders tensed at the sight of the man he despises, but for the sake of you, Namjoon and his Godchild, he keeps his composure enough to ignore the elephant now standing in the room. The fear that used to consume you upon your dad unraveling the truth about your secret vacates you when you know that you and the two men present can conquer anything.

"Yes," the answer is to your mother, but your stern glower of warning is only connected with your dad's although your mother's stare remains on you, "Namjoon is the father."

Namjoon stands with pride while he accepts the pair of scissors from Dr. Seokjin- your father, with a shocked expression, watches as the man he hired happens to be the same man who stole his daughter's heart without his knowledge. Yet, he refrains from anger, because who is he to ruin such a precious moment about to unfold here?

Pictures are taken of Namjoon cutting the umbilical cord, his fingers gently rubbing his daughter's cheek while he wipes at the tears dripping from his eyes. Jungkook takes her into his arms to weigh her before wrapping her in a plush pink blanket, "She is seven pounds and five ounces,"

Endless joy envelops your heart from the scene playing out before you; especially, when the vision of your father's quivering chin, admiring his granddaughter leaves you speechless along with the hope of redemption entering your beating heart.

"Are you ready to hold her?" Monnie's kind eyes match her smile when she touches your arm.

"Yes," you stifle a sob, "I want to hold her,"

Monnie poses her arms to where Jungkook places your daughter, Monnie guardedly turns to rest your baby into your arms. Her small face chortles, her eyes closing while she puckers her tiny lips. "She's so perfect," you cry, love in all its beauty falling from your eyes while you watch your daughter's fingers fold individually upon her chest.

"Just like you," Namjoon whispers, locking eyes with you before inching forward to give you a loving kiss.

"I love you, Joon," you whisper, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

"I love you, too."

"Uh," the deep serenade of your best friend interrupts, all attention abruptly turning to see him raise an index finger in the air, "So, as the Godfather, I must ask a very serious question," the room chuckles along with him as they patiently wait for his request, "What's her name?"

"Ah," you nod, realizing that hasn't been made known to anyone other than to yourself. Your mother steps forward to place her hand upon your shoulder while your father keeps his distance enough to not cause any trouble- though the two of you share a small smile to let him know all is well. Namjoon watches you in admiration- the woman of his dreams holding his child in her arms while facing her deepest fear yet holds her head with pride about the man she will spend the rest of her life with along with her daughter swaddled to her chest. You are everything he's ever longed for and more, and he's ready to defeat any storm in life if it's with you and his daughter.

To answer Tae's question though, you return to face him, tears gathering in exhilarating bliss.

"Taejun." Her eyes slightly open at the hearing of her name as a tiny smile adorns her lips,

"Her name is Kim Taejun."

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see.

Catch up with Part 1 here

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say.

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza @millenialcatlady

#paul sevier #paul sevier x reader #paul sevier x female reader #adcu #adcu fanfiction

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