#// I’m genuinely sorry for my slowness all around though dash I’m gonna write today for realsies

[paetal]

👉👈 what if you liked this post for a blind date starter

[pink-hao]

Love Me Right ~ p.cy

word count: 3.6k

warnings: really marshmallow, kinda angsty???, idefk

masterlist

 It doesn’t feel right, waking up in a queen sized bed alone. The void feeling in your chest as you look out the little window where the distant sun peers through. He used to lay on the right side of the bed, head digging into his flattened out pillow with one hand on it and the other around your waist. You could swear you still feel his fingers wrapped around you, his faint snores that were quieted by the cushion under him. He loved the gray bed covers, and at one point you did too, but now they’re simply a sign of what used to be. It’s a quarter to 8 in the morning when you finally rise from your spot on the bed and go into the bathroom. 

 The hot shower is burning your skin, but it’s a particulary numb morning. As you rub the remnants of sleep from your eyes you dwell once again on the fact that it has been exactly 4 months since you broke up. Sometimes, you really hate being an idol. Your whole life is put on display and critiqued by everyone. Who cares if someone doesn’t love your boyfriend? You did, wasn’t that enough? But no, the fans hated you together. They didn’t think Chanyeol and you were “a good match.” Who were they to judge who your match was? They don’t know you like he did, don’t know him like you did. It was all so unfair and stupid.

  You got out of the shower when the water began to shift to an uncomfortably cooler temperature, continuing on with your morning routine and getting dressed to head over to practice. Your comeback is soon and now is more stressful than ever, learning all the dances for your songs and creating the music videos. The pressure is on this comeback, especially for you, because I helped write and produce the main track on the album and you really hope the fans like it. When you walk into the practice room today, the girls are already there waiting. The eight girls turn their heads and shuffle over to your side of the room, and before you know it, you’re being engulfed in a large yet tight group hug.

 “We know about today, babe. It’s okay to let it out if you have to.” said the eldest, Sun-Mi unnie.

 “You’re a super strong girl, unnie! You got this!” said maknae ChaeHee.

 “FIGHTING!” spoke your best friend, Minah. She was the first person that knew about you breakup with Chanyeol and she stuck by your side, letting you cry on her shoulder or sleep in her bed when you were alone. All eight girls are a family to you, but Minah is definetly your closest sister.

 “Maybe today won’t be as bad as you think it could be.” she continued.

 “We’ve been invited to a party! And I think we should go! It will help us loosen up and shake off our nerves for this comeback.” said Rosamie.

 “A party?,” you wondered nervously. “I don’t know about a party today unless you could count me alone on the couch watching Netflix as a party. Of one.”

 “Come on,” Minah stressed, tugging on your hand. “If you let this get the best of you now, how will you be in 6 months, a year, 2 years? Still miserable? You can’t let this pull you back, my love. Come with us, just tonight?” she exclaimed with a cute pouty face.

  You looked down at your red worn-out converse highs. She was right, you can’t be so weak as to let a breakup get in the way of living your life. Even though the breakup was with the best boyfriend you could ever ask for and you totally and obviously regret doing it in the first place. With that said, you decided to just try your best to forget about it all in one.

 “I guess we’re going out tonight?” you questioned, the smallest of smiles creeping up on your face as well as everyone else’s.

 “That’s my girl!” Nya, your leader, shouted.

 “See? We all knew that you were strong!” said Minah as she pulled you into another embrace.

 “Heck yea little mama we bouta get wasted tonight bitches! HAH!” said our maknae.

 “Excuse me? I didn’t hear that right, did I?” said Sun-Mi unnie. If looks could kill, ChaeHee would be six feet under right now. And with that, she dashed out of the practice room with Sun-Mi unnie following close behind and left seven girls laughing their asses off at the sight in front of them.

 “I’m nervous.”

 “Why?” Minah chortled while helping you with your eyeliner.

 “Who’s going to be there? I haven’t been to a party since we were together.” you sighed looking down at your black heels.

 “Not too many people, but it’s still a pretty formal get together. Tonight’s event doesn’t exactly scream ‘vans and ripped jeans,’ but it’s not too bad.” she explained. You looked in the mirror at what you had on. A sparkly black dress with a stacked necklace and a light face of makeup. This isn’t exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday night.

 “You look great baby. Every guy in there is gonna have a hard time. Maybe you could relieve of that stress you got, you know?” she winked.

 “Eww,” you giggled. “You know I’m not into that though,” you replied with a slight blush.

 “Well, we’ll see. You haven’t seen the guys yet, right? The night is young, the booze will be there and so will we. For lack of better terms, let’s make this a night we will never remember. Or, one we’ll never forget? Depends on who you wake up next to.” she shrugged.

 “How could you be so serious about this stuff?” you laughed. “You deadass just implied that the only thing you’ll remember from tonight will be the guy you may or may not get lucky with.”

 “I’d bet you $20 you won’t get laid tonight,” she exclaimed, hands crossed over her chest.

 “You know you’d win! I told you already, I don’t just sleep around.”

 “Well what if you find someone you know?” she asked.

 “I-“

 There was a quick knock at the door and Nya came in with the smallest blue dress you’ve ever seen paired with black gladiator heels. Her now gray hair was curled slightly and makeup is done. Light, like yours, but still noticeable from the immense amount of highlight she always uses.

 “Are you guys ready to go?” she asked quirking a perfectly arched eyebrow.

 “Well, you seem eager. In more ways than one.” Minah tilted her head and took in all of Nya’s attire.

 “What does that mean?” Nya asked, putting her hands on her hips, which somehow managed to make her already crazy short dress ride up even more.

 “Not much, you just really put it all out there tonight, huh? Someone special coming to this little get together?” she smirked.

 “Someone like Taeyong?” you smiled knowingly. Nya’s little crush on the leader of NCT wasn’t exactly hidden. And neither were his reciprocated feelings. “He’ll surely be the one having a ‘hard time’ tonight.”

 “Oh shut it. Let’s just go,” she said with a small smile and flushed cheeks. Minah and you just looked at each other knowingly and got your stuff to go.

 The room was hot and full of sweaty bodies by the time you arrived. Taeyong was the first to notice us, or Nya for that matter. While the rest of us got a quick hi, Nya got an all too friendly hug from the eager redhead. Here you are at the bar, looking over at the crowd of dancing idols, seeing some of them get very friendly with each other, a stark difference from how they act in the public eye. You wonder if you and Chanyeol came off like that at places like this. Before you got carried away with your thoughts, you felt a tapping on your shoulder.

 “Somebody sitting here?” asked Jackson, one of your best friends.

 “Jackson! Hey handsome, how are you? It’s been too long. How was your tour?” you asked, pulling him into an embrace.

 “It was good. I love my fans and my group, but I need a drink right now. Want somethin’?” he asked, calling the bartender over.

 “Uh, yea definitely. Patron please, make it a double.” you call out.

 “Same for me,” he said to the guy. “Double? We stressin’ tonight? You got a comeback soon too, yea?” he wondered.

 “Yep, and I wrote and produced the main track. Stress is an understatement in the feelings department right now.” you replied.

 “Damn, and I guess it doesn’t help that you know who is here too, huh?” he asked with a guilty look.

 “Wait, what? Who’s here?” you asked genuinely lost.

 “Um, Chanyeol? he said half-confused, taking half his shot of Patron before putting it back down.

  You felt like you were going to throw up. Did the girls know? Did everyone know but you? What if he was already with someone? What if you look like a fool, or a desperate bitch trying to get anyone you can now that he’s out of your hands? You took your shot and gulped it down, but realized the double wasn’t enough and grabed the remnants of Jackson’s drink.

 “Woah. Slow down! We don’t want you passing out or worse, looking like a fool in front of everybody. You know, he-“

 “Please, I don’t want to know. I’m sorry Jackson, I gotta get out of here like, right now. I’m sorry, tell the girls I left? Love you lots, let’s catch up one of these days.” And with that, you began weaving your way through the crowd of people. From the corner of your eye, you saw Minah and Changkyun getting very cozy. And by cozy, you mean that their tounges were down each other’s throats. You were happy for her, she seemed to be having a good time. God knows you’ll hear every little detail tomorrow, whether you want to or not.

 As you got outside, you hailed for a cab to no avail until you saw a tall lanky guy getting into one with ease. So you decided it was either now or never to get out of here, so you followed the guy into the cab. When you asked him if he minded he simply shrugged, not even turning to face your way. You closed the door and told the driver your apartment building number and at that, the tall stranger turned his head and you finally knew who you were in the car with.

 “Namjoon?”

 “Hey! It’s been forever! You.. you look beautiful.” he said looking down and giving his heartstopping dimple smile. “How are you? What did you leave the party for? It only just started like, an hour ago.” he questioned.

 “Not feeling the best honestly. Besides, there weren’t too many people I wanted to hang with and I’d just rather be home alone doing nothing. Anyways, why are you leaving so soon? Like you said, the party only just started.” you retorted.

 “Can I be honest?”

 “Of course Joonie.”

 “Lalisa is there. She honestly makes me so nervous. She is so beautiful and smart and talented.” he answered. “I’d rather go home than choke up in front of her.” he frowned.

 “Oh, Joons. Babe, look, if you don’t try someday, how will you ever say she’s yours? You can’t. When you want something, you just have to go for it, no matter how difficult. Anything can happen, everything is possible. She turns you down, there are literally millions of other girls that love and adore you. But that’s like a one in a million chance anyway, Jooniebug. You are an awesome guy and she’s a great girl. You two would be a truly astonishing couple. I ship it.” you smiled.

 “Do you know how cool you are? Like really? That Chanyeol is a really lucky guy to have you. I wish you both the best of luck, you two are something really special together.” he beamed. You think he realized his mistake when he saw your smile fall at the comment regarding you two.

 “I thank you Joons, but,” you hesitated, “Yeol and I.. we aren’t together anymore.”

 “I’m so sorry, what happened? I thought you two had a future and..” he trailed off.

 “Its okay, really. I mean I did too but.. things change I guess? I don’t know. The fans didn’t think it was real and before we knew it, we were asked to end things. We lived together and did everything together. I walked around and saw my shadow as two people, and now I feel empty. It’s been four months. I shouldn’t be feeling this anymore. He’s probably at that party with some pretty new girl wrapped around his shoulder. God knows there were so many others that wanted him.” you rolled your watery eyes looking away from Namjoon so he couldn’t see your glassy eyes.

 “If you need anything, you know I’m here for you. You’re my girl! All of Bangtan loves you. And as for boyfriends, oh, Jimin is free! He’s sweet, cuddly, and a little clingy sometimes. But he’ll love you like there’s no tomorrow and support your every single move.” he joked, hopefully, as you chuckled and blinked away the tears that threatened to spill mere moments ago.

 “I love you Joon. You know that?” you said with a small smile.

 “Love you too. This is your stop, yea?” he questioned pointing out the window when the cab came to a stop.

 “Yes. I thank you for letting me into your cab, hope you have a good night, and I really encourage you to try things with Lalisa. She would love you so much!” you grinned.

 “I think I’m going to try it. I thank you so much for everything, and we must catch up more very soon! Goodnight!” Joon beamed.

 “Night Joons!” you hollered whilst getting out of the compact.

 As you turned around and walked down to you building I saw yet another tall figure leaned up against the wall. This guy was clad with a dark hood and black skinny jeans, which were paired with black vans. The stature of the outsider looked so familiar you could almost recognize who it was just by their stance. Almost. But he couldn’t be here, he was at the party. Your heart ran a marathon in your chest, ready to either fly up into your throat or slip down your stomach if it was who you thought it had been. As you neared the stranger, he turned his head.

 “Dean?”

 “Hey girl,” he replied pulling you into a quick embrace. “I just came to tell you something. It’s from Zico, he wanted me to tell you that he is expecting a call soon. He can’t wait to get in the booth with you, and I can’t wait to hear whatever y’all two got cooking up because I already know it’s something I’m gonna love.” he smirked.

 “Aww, thanks, babe. You want coffee or something? Why aren’t you at the big ass party down on Fifth?” you wondered.

 “I’m actually headed over there right now. You coming with me?” he quirked an eyebrow.

 “Just came back from there. You know parties aren’t my scene. It’s better for me to stay here. But I’ll see you around yea?” you smiled knowingly and pulled him into another quick embrace before he agreed and we parted ways.

 I finally got out of those damned jeans and the way-too-tight excuse for a shirt and pulled on my favorite pajamas. They were a simple royal blue satin duo that Chanyeol got for you on your 3 month anniversary. They weren’t anything sexy, because neither of you were really into that stuff, and you had at least two pairs that looked almost exactly the same, but you loved them more than any other pair for obvious reasons. After you got your makeup off and put to make your popcorn, you finally sat on your couch and turned on your beloved Netflix when you heard a knock at the door. As you got up and wandered to the door you wondered who it could possibly be. Haven’t you seen and spoken to everyone today? At least that’s what it felt like. You sighed looking at my bare feet as you opened the door and raised your head to see who it could be.

  You didn’t think you would see him.

  You were left speechless when you saw Chanyeol at your door after 4 months of being apart. It felt foreign to see him come into the apartment we once shared so happily. He too must’ve felt the strange sense of nostalgia as he took a seat on the couch opposite mine. The quiet quickly escalated into awkwardness as we were both unsure of what to say to the other after so long.

 “I-“ he began.

 “Why did you come here? Why today? Why now? Why not stay at the party?” I asked in a rush of questions. Your heart once again faltered at the many ideas rushing through your head.

 “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, to be honest. I don’t even know why I came here today of all days.” he announced, avoiding my gaze altogether and looking down at his favorite pair of Air Jordans.

 “You don’t know why you came? you inquired.

 “I-“ he repeated, biting his lip and finally meeting my eyes for the first time. You took the time to scan his awe-inspiring face for the first time in what feels like forever. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than ever, his hair looked all tousled as if he had been running his hand through it for days on end. He sat with a bit of a slouch and looked almost like he was about to cry.

 “You don’t know how much I missed you. I’m still in love with you. I will always be in love with you. I don’t care who doesn’t like us together because I can’t live without you.“ he began. You couldn’t tell at that moment if your heart skipped a beat or just stopped altogether. He took your silence as a cue to continue.

"I know I waited a long time to tell you, hell, you’re so beautiful that I almost know that you’ve moved on for sure from my bum ass and I look like an idiot right now. But on the off chance that what I just said was wrong, and you still love me as much as I love you, I’m here right now to ask for your love and appreciation in my life again. I can’t explain in words the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when I wake up every day and realize that you aren’t there next to me. That I won’t see your face or make you smile and laugh. That I can’t cuddle with you or see you wearing my Supreme hoodie that you said you loved because it smells the most like me out of all of my sweaters.” he cracked, watching your every move. You were tempted to look away so he couldn’t see your glossy eyes, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the stunning man in your living room professing his undying love for you.

 “I-” it was your turn to pause as I finally looked down at the white fur rug that coated the floor.

 “I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped wondering how you were, if you missed me if you were with someone else and if this would ever happen.” you looked back up at him.

 “I don’t know what to say.”

 “Take me back. I promise you, I will never let them get in our way again. I can show you more affection, take you out more, anything you want. I just need you by my side.” he spoke lowly, standing up and coming closer. He held out a hand for you to get up and join him once again.

 “Please. I love you,” he spoke in a throaty whisper, choking back tears.

Once you got up and stretched on your toes to reach his still towering face better, I whispered, “I love you, Park Chanyeol.”

  Your lips met with an urgent passion but maintained a long, loving touch. The kind that builds over time and is created by two people that aren’t only in a relationship based off of lust, but love and affection as well. as the kiss deepened, Chanyeol pulled you up and rested your legs on either side of his waist, bringing you to the bedroom.

 The rest of the night was filled with many overdue kisses and stolen touches, amongst other things. The morning after, You were awakened so rudely yet again by your alarm. A quarter to 8, you thought. You looked to your right and were welcomed with the seemingly foreign sun seeping more powerfully through the window than it had been in the past weeks. But what really got you was a rather familiar hand laying over your waist and a pretty boy next to you with his head digging into the pillow and his low yet perceptible snores.

“I love you, Park Chanyeol,” you said once more, raking your fingers through his hair cautiously not to wake him up before you got up and started your routine. ‘Today is going to be different, and so is every other day after this,’ you thought to yourself, smiling.

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Be My Muse [1/2]

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Peggy

Summary: Modern AU. This part involves handsome strangers, a bar and friends trying to set each other up on dates.

Warnings: Potentially some language. Besides that, none, unless you need a warning for fluff :)

Notes: For @just-some-drabbles‘ writing challenge. My prompt was #42: “It’s a dare, you have to do it. Those are the rules.” This is in bold somewhere.

Also - I’ve never worked in a cafe/coffee shop, so apologies if things aren’t accurate. Feel free to (constructively) correct me if this is the case!

[Part 2]

My Masterlist || {gif source}

The cafe is always quiet at 4pm on a Thursday.

You’re busying yourself behind the counter, taking advantage of the afternoon lull to get some cleaning and organising done. Thus far, you’ve polished the pastry display case, wiped down the countertop and put away the cleaned mugs and plates from this morning’s customers.

Although the cafe is a lovely place to work in, it’s not exactly where you imagined yourself to be, at this stage of your life.

Oh, sure, you could have landed a far worse job. Though it gets lonely sometimes, having to do the afternoon shift by yourself, at least you have a great friend in Sharon, who comes by to help you with the busier morning shift everyday. Besides, the peace that settles over the cafe once the lunch hour is over is a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of your life. Maria, the owner, is a kind — if, fairly strict — boss, and the pay here is better than anything you could have gotten anywhere else.

There’re several less-than-positive things about this job, like the bathroom that reeks of urine no matter how hard you scrub it, plus the fact that you seem to only get customers that love to loudly complain about the slow service is, but hey; it’s a job that pays and one you’re glad to have. As such, you’re willing to overlook the less savoury aspects of it.

You’re in the middle of arranging glasses on the shelves when the bell over the door dings, and the most stunning man you’ve ever set eyes on walks into the shop.

You try to surreptitiously check him out as he casts his eyes over the menu. He’s well-built, with chestnut brown, slightly wavy hair that is tied back into a little bun. The stranger wears a black leather jacket over a grey t-shirt, both garments hugging his body in a most delectable manner. His dark blue jeans accentuate what has got to be the best looking ass you’ve ever seen and those thighs, my god. You have to physically restrain yourself from thinking salacious thoughts about them. When he pulls his sunglasses off, you have to fight the urge to swoon, because damn - a face like that belongs in a magazine.

Mr Handsome saunters up to the counter, hands thrust into his pockets and you dash over to assist him, wiping your sweaty palms on your apron and hoping to the dear gods above that you don’t make a fool of yourself.

“H-hi,” you stutter, immediately chiding yourself for letting him see how flustered you are. “Um, how can I help you?”

The man smiles, “What do you recommend I get?” he asks. Oh, sweet lord, that voice — gifted to him by the goddamn angels. Deep and mellow, but at the same time slightly husky. It makes your knees weak.

You gulp, trying desperately not to get lost in the alluring blue of his eyes. “Um, well, th—the lemon tart. That’s—that’s my favourite. And—uh, if you want a drink, the—um, any coffee’s good,”.

“D’you make them?” he asks, leaning casually against the pastry display.

Oh.

Your brain very much like how that posture makes his shirt ride up slightly, exposing just the tiniest strip of flesh. You force yourself to take a deep breath to steady your racing heart. “I—yes. I make them,” you reply.

Mr Handsome grins, “Then of course they’re gonna be good,” he quips.

You blush. “Oh, um—,”

“I’ll have whatever your specialty is,” he says, “And the lemon tart. And your name, if that’s okay,”.

You giggle girlishly, internally wincing at how high-pitched and fake it sounds. “It’s Y/N,” you tell him, “Would you like that to-go?”

“I’m James,” he says simply, shifting to rest both both elbows on the counter as you step away, “And yes, to-go. I’ve got to meet someone,”.

This close, you can’t help but notice the sleek leather glove he wears on his left hand. For a brief moment, you wonder why he has it covered up. “Sure thing,” you murmur distractedly, grabbing a take-away cup and turning the coffee machine on, grabbing the milk you’ll need to fix him — James, you remind yourself — a latte.

“Quiet, today, huh?” James comments, taking stock of the little shop.

“It’s normally pretty quiet around this time,” you admit, “Kinda like it. The mornings are the busiest, so it’s nice to get a break after,”.

“You’ve been working here long?” he asks curiously.

“Um, just over a year,” you reply. “But I’m hoping that changes soon,”.

“Oh? Explain, if you don’t mind,”.

You sigh, hitting a few buttons on the coffee machine and watching as it starts to warm up. “Well, I’ve…I’ve always wanted to have my own shop. A little bakery, somewhere. I’ve got my eye on a place, but I haven’t had the money to put down a deposit. So I’ve been saving up,” you tell James, as you pull out a box to put his lemon tart in.

“Sounds lovely,” he murmurs, smiling at you. “You bake, huh?”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling fondly as memories of Sunday mornings spent in your mother’s kitchen spring to mind. “My mama and I used to bake all sorts of things on the weekends. We’d have bake sales, sometimes, to raise money for whatever charity my dad was supporting at the time. We were gonna open a bakery together. I was gonna go to pastry school, and everything,”.

“What changed?” James asks quietly, sensing the wistfulness in your tone.

You’re silent for a moment, masking your hesitation by fussing around with his drink, finishing the art on his foam with a well-practiced flick of your wrist. When it’s done, you turn around, fold your arms over your chest and bite your lip. Talking about your mother and your shattered dreams have stirred up feelings of grief and loss that you’d thought were long buried in the back of your mind. The rational part of you knows that you have no obligation to tell James anything, but there’s an honesty in his eyes that makes you trust him.

“I—my dad lost his job, which he’d had for nearly twenty years. He—he drank. A lot. And one night, he was driving drunk, with my ma in the passenger seat, and they—didn’t make it home,”, you say, voice a little strained at the end.

“I’m sorry,” James says, and when your gaze flicks over to him, you see genuine sincerity in his gaze. “That must’ve been hard for you,”.

You shrug, crossing over to the pastry display and using out a pair of tongs to pull out a lemon tart, which you carefully slide into the box you’ve prepared. “It was, but it was a while ago. I’ve…been doing okay since then. Still hoping to open that bakery someday,”.

“I’m sure you will,” James murmurs.

“And yourself?” you ask, turning your back to him temporarily so that you can secure the box shut. “What do you work as?”

“I—am a writer,” James answers, though his tone is a little terse. “Well, at least, I’m supposed to be one,”.

“What d’you mean?”

“I’ve…had writer’s block. For the longest time. And my editor and publisher—they’re starting to get impatient. I just…haven’t been in the mood for it, y’know?”

“My sympathies,” you reply, looping a blue ribbon around the box and deftly tying it into a neat bow. “That must suck,”.

“Yeah,” James sighs, “But talking to you has helped given me some ideas,”.

“Really?” you murmur, lips quirking up into an easy smile as you hand him his drink and tart. “That’s eleven, please,”.

“Yes, really,” James says sincerely, fishing out his wallet from back pocket and handing you a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the change,”.

“Oh, no, I—,”

“Please,” James says, already beginning to walk towards the door, “Save up for your little bakery,”.

You duck your head so that he can’t see the smile bursting over your expression, “Thanks,”.

“See you around,” he calls, as he shoulders the door open.

As you watch his form get swallowed by the swarming crowd outside, you give yourself a mental smack to the forehead for not having the foresight to give him your number. All you can do now is hope that you see James sometime soon.

——————————

“Ooh, hottie alert,” Natasha snickers, eyes flickering across the room towards the bar. Following her line of sight, you crane your neck to see who she’s referring to, Peggy and Wanda doing likewise.

“Oh, god,” Peggy groans, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh yes,” Wanda says, a grin spreading over her face.

It’s Friday night, which means that you and the girls are spending the evening at your favourite bar, parked in your default corner booth. You’re nursing a G&T, and somehow, Natasha has managed to coax everyone into a game of truth or dare. The aforementioned game has just been interrupted, as Nat has spotted one of the bar’s other frequent customers.

“You have to ask him out, Pegs,” Wanda insists, eyes still trained on the muscular blonde. “He’s a really nice guy,”.

“For the hundredth time, it’s not happening,” Peggy growls sullenly, gaze firmly fixed on the empty beer bottle in the middle of the table. “Now, come on, Natasha, spin it, will you?”.

Nat arches on perfectly-sculpted eyebrow, but says nothing as she gives the bottle a spin with a deft flick of her wrist. As luck would have it, the spout ends up pointing in Peggy’s direction.

“Truth or dare?” Natasha asks, grinning smugly as she sits back in her chair.

Peggy quirks up her own eyebrow in response to Natasha’s unspoken challenge. Those two go after each other like a pair of fighting bulls, honestly. “Dare,” Peggy says, tone resolute and confident.

“Oooh,” Wanda murmurs, tilting her head closer to yours. “Nat’s dare are the worst,”.

“Or best, depending on how you look at it,” you reply. Wanda snorts, amused.

Nat cocks her head to the side and chews her lip thoughtfully, brow furrowed in concentration. One finger idly traces the rim of her glass. “Got it!” she says, snapping her gaze to Peggy, “I dare you, to go over to the bar and ask blondie out,”.

“Steve?” Peggy hisses, agahast, “Natasha—no,”.

“Natasha, yes,” Nat shoots back, fighting hard to keep the triumphant, mocking grin from spreading across her face.

“Please,” Peggy begs, “I—I you know how I feel about—,”.

“And that is precisely, why you have to do it,” Natasha interrupts. “I’m doing you a favour here,”.

“I shan’t do it,” Peggy grumbles.

“It’s a dare, you have to do it. Those are the rules,” Natasha says flatly, tone leaving no further room for argument.

“C’mon, Peggy,” Wanda urges, “You two have been making eyes at each other for the last month. It was gonna happen eventually,”.

“Fine,” Peggy huffs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine, I’ll do it. But on one condition. Y/N has to come with me,”.

“I—what?” you ask sharply.

“For moral support,” Peggy explains, turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Since when have you needed moral support for shit like this?” Nat mumbles.

Peggy turns up the intensity of her gaze and you feel your resolve melting under it. When have you ever been able to say no to one of your friends, anyway?

“Okay, okay,”, you sigh, “Let’s go. C’mon, up,”.

“Good luck!” Wanda chirps, as you and Peggy make your way over to the corner of the bar that Steve is leaning against. Peggy clutches your elbow when you draw nearer, as if needing some physical reassurance. 

“I can’t believe I let her talk me into this,” Peggy mutters under her breath, casting an evil glance in Nat’s direction.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He seems like a nice enough guy. What d’you want me to do?” you ask.

“Umm…can you do the introductions?” Peggy whispers, “You’re always so much better at that part,”.

You roll your eyes. “So long as you do the actual asking,” you respond dryly.

“Deal,”.

Peggy drops her hand from your elbow, allowing you to saunter up to Steve. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, watching as you nonchalantly lean back against the counter, then swivel your head to look directly at his profile. Somewhere to your left, Peggy hovers, apprehension radiating off her in thick waves.

When he senses you looking at him, Steve turns his head and flashes you a gentle smile. “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, voice deep and gentle.

“Ma’am?” you echo, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. “My, my, you are a polite one, aren’t you?”

Steve shrugs and ducks his head, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. “Well, my ma raised me to always remember my manners,” he admits.

“God bless her,” you say. “You’re Steve, right? I’m pretty sure we’ve talked before. Just, y’know, with me being a lot more drunk,”.

Steve chuckles heartily, eyes glinting with merriment. “Yes, I seem to recall something along those lines happening,”.

You laugh along with him, before resting a hand on his forearm pointedly. His eyes flicker over your face, confusion furrowing his brow. “Is there something I can help you with?” he repeats.

“Actually, there is something,”, you murmur, motioning with your fingers for Peggy to come forward. She appears by your side not a heartbeat later, and Steve turns to face her.

“Hi,” Peggy says, body going uncharacteristically tense. “I’m—Peggy. We’ve uh—,”. You resist the urge to giggle; you’ve never seen Peggy this flustered. Steve must really be doing a number on her heart.

“Hey, I’ve seen you in here before, haven’t I?” Steve asks, gracefully swooping in to save Peggy from potentially making a fool of herself. Well, really, she’s too composed to make a fool of herself, but you appreciate Steve’s thoughtfulness, nonetheless. Sensing that your work here is done, and that the two are about to have a conversation, you step away, giving them some privacy.

“Yes,” Peggy breathes, relief spreading through her shoulders, “Yes, we have. I’ve got a question to ask you, actually,”

“Ask away,” Steve says, smiling easily at her.

“Would you like to dance?” she blurts out.

“I’d love to—,” is what Steve begins to say, before he is cut off by his phone vibrating on the table beside him, pinging with the noise of an incoming text. Steve glances at the screen and frowns, “Sorry, I need to get this,” he mutters, shooting Peggy an apologetic look. He unlocks his phone and swipes a few buttons, brow becoming increasingly furrowed as the seconds tick past.

With a heavy sigh, he straightens up and gives Peggy a pained look.

“Is everything alright?” Peggy asks concernedly.

Steve sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. “I—something came up. A friend—my best friend. He’s—I need to see him,”. He pauses, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance,”, he murmurs, looking at Peggy through his outrageously long lashes.

“Alright,” Peggy says softly, “A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club,”

“You got it,”, Steve replies, a hesitant smile spreading over his face.

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late, understood?”, she continues. That sounds more like the Peggy you know; firm and unrelenting, not taking any bullshit from anyone.

Steve manages a chuckle, amused by her forwardness. “You know, I don’t actually know how to dance,” he admits, adding a little shrug for emphasis.

“I’ll show you how,” Peggy says, expression and tone softening, “Just be there,”.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Steve replies, a far-off look in his eyes. “Here, let me give you my number,”, he mutters, patting his pockets for a pen and grabbing his napkin from under his glass. He flips it over to the drier side and scrawls on it a string of digits, before thrusting the little tissue into her palm. “See you, I guess,” Steve says, flashing Peggy one final, cheeky grin, before turning to head out the door.

“Bye,” Peggy murmurs, expression distant and fond and love-struck.

“I think someone’s in it deep,” you sing-song, elbowing her playfully in the ribs.

“Oh hush, you,” Peggy snaps, but there’s no heat in her voice, which only makes you cackle gleefully. “So what if I am? I think he’s a nice guy to have a crush on,”.

“I wonder if her has a friend that’s just as nice?” you muse, “Nice guys are so hard to come by, nowadays,”. Even as you speak, your mind thinks back to a dark-haired, well-dressed stranger walking into your shop, putting butterflies in your stomach whilst simultaneously making you feel completely at ease.

“Want me to ask him?” Peggy says, waving the napkin in her hand.

“I think I’m good,”, you murmur, grabbing her upper arm and leading her back to the booth where Nat and Wanda are waiting anxiously.

She shrugs. “Suit yourself,”.

——————————

Peggy breaks the news once you’re on the way back home.

“You what?”

“I set you up on a blind date!” she repeats.

“With who? When?” you ask incredulously.

“Steve’s friend,” Peggy replies, “After I got his number, I decided to ask,”.

“Steve’s friend?” you echo, “I told you not to ask!”

“You never told me explicitly,” Peggy says defensively, “You just said ‘I think I’m good’, so I took it upon myself to ask on your behalf. His name’s Bucky, by the way,”.

“Call it off,” you growl.

“I shan’t,” Peggy replies, in that tone she uses when she’s unwilling to back down from a fight.

“Y/N, you haven’t been on a date in months,” Wanda interjects, “Maybe this’ll do you some good,”.

“C’mon, Y/N, what harm can it do? You might actually like the guy,” Natasha adds, slinging her arm over your shoulders.

“Fat chance,” you grumble, thinking back to James at your cafe. You’ve only spent ten minutes, at most with him, but you’re positive that he’s taken your heart.

“Just try,” Wanda implores. “When is it, Peggy?”

“Tomorrow, 8pm, at that Thai place ‘round the corner,”, she replies.

“Fine,” you grumble, “I’ll do it, if it’ll make y’all leave me alone,”.

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[ephemeral-writings]

sober; jongin

08. companion

jongin x reader

word count: 1.4k of fluffy angst

“part 2″

You clock out of the nightclub at midnight There are patrons scattered about the dimly lighted place, but otherwise it’s more of a slow night. The three men that you had been serving sat at the bar, more or less gone from the amount of alcohol you’ve poured them. There’s a group of men seated in one of the booths, seemingly in a serious conversation. You think it might have something to do with the two older women that sits across the room, if their methodical system of taking turn in glancing at them was anything to go by.

“Better leave now, Red, before I make you stay the night with me,” Jaehyung threatens while buffing a tumbler glass.

Jaehyung and you rotate shifts, and tonight he’s on from now to closing at five. Most of the time, you work the first shift, opening at six and leaving at twelve. Your boss is more considerate than he looks, and he tries to make it a point to let you out before late-- well, despite it being midnight, but it was a nightclub afterall.

“Yeah, not a chance, Jae. I have a paper to write, so unless you want to write it for me,” you trail off, prompting him to bite the bait. But he doesn’t, not when he has an acrimony towards education.

“Get out of here, you.”

You laugh. “Thanks for switching shifts with me. See you.”

The night feels muddy even with its humidity as its lowest. You’re debating whether to grab food at a twenty-four-hour food stall or to go home to another bag of ramen when someone calls out your name.

You look up to see a regular at the nightclub, specifically your regular since he never seems to visit the club to do actual clubbing, but to just sit at the bar and throw back some drinks. He’s donning his usual full suit and tie with dress shoes so immaculate, it puts the ground to shame.

“Hey, Jongin.” You offer him a smile. You hope it doesn’t look pitiful, but you do worry over the circles around his eyes.

Nevertheless, his smile is as dashing as ever. “Just got off?” he asks.

“Mhm.” You nod your head towards the building a few meters behind you, adding, “It’s nice and slow tonight, so I’m sure Jaehyung wouldn’t mind keeping you entertained for a while.”

Jongin looks hesitant for a moment before he asks you, “Do you mind keeping me company for tonight? Again?”

You and Jongin have been friends through talks across the counter, and between those talks, you’ve learned about Jongin’s job as a CEO. He’s told you that it was started by his father, and despite not wanting to inherit the company, his parents had forced it on him. You were able to connect the dots and realize that his frequent visits has to do with the stress of being in charge of a billion-dollar company.

You feel bad when you tell him about the assignment that’s due in the morning, glossing over the fact that you barely have an outline done for a ten pager.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m the one who’s sorry for imposing.” Jongin smiles, albeit he looks similar to an abandoned puppy, and really, who could deny a man with such a look?

“Actually,” you begin, “Why don’t you come over to my place? I might need some guiding for my paper since it is on financial marketing.”

Jongin grimaces, most probably feeling guilty that you’ve succumbed to his requests, yet again. “Are you sure, Y/N.”

“Yes, Jongin. Now come on,” you urge. “My paper’s not gonna write itself while we’re standing in the middle of the street.”

You walk with Jongin for a solid five minutes when it suddenly occurs to you that a man like Jongin would be driving around places, not walking. You ask him about it, and he explains that he usually takes his personal driver, especially on days when he feels that it’ll end with him being buzzed. Today was one of those days.

You arrive at your complex a little while later. The elevator is broken, has been for weeks already, so you and Jongin take the stairs up three flights.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you say rather dramatically. But Jongin appreciates it when he laughs.

Your place is a studio, therefore your short tour includes turning your body and pointing in various directions.

“My ‘room’ is over there, kitchen over here, and bathroom is right behind that door.”

Jongin genuinely surveys the area, making small comments about the style and design of it.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Wine?” You ask, voice filled with mirth.

“Water will do just fine, love.”

You go to pour Jongin a glass of water while you start a pot of coffee, relieved that he can’t see you blushing. It’s not the first time he’s called you by the endearment, but for all the times he had, he was intoxicated. You easily brushed it off those times, letting it play as if he probably had a slip of tongue. But you know for a fact that Jongin is completely sober right now.

You both settle on the two seater couch, leaving a respectful distance between each other. You boot up your laptop while Jongin moves to discard his blazer and tie. He visibly looks more relaxed without the constrictive pieces of clothing.

“So, how can I help with your essay?”

“Huh?”

Jongin is leaning a closer to see your screen which is displaying your poor excuse of an outline.

“What do you need help with?”

“Um, there’s a few concepts that I still can’t get a grasp on. Maybe if you can explain them to me?”

Jongin nods in agreement distractedly as he scans over your outline.

Embarrassed that a professional businessman is reading your work, you murmur, “It’s extremely tentative, so uh, try not to judge me too harshly.”

Jongin finally looks at you, and you feel your heart stutter when you realize how close he is.

He smirks, “I was going to comment about that, but since you’ve asked so kindly, I’ll just say it’s not bad for a starting point.”

For the next hour or so, Jongin gives you a mini lecture on the concepts you‘ve heard your professor talk about in class only Jongin makes it a dozen times easier to understand. You move to sit on the floor with your laptop propped on the table to properly begin to write when you think you’ve gathered enough information while Jongin answers e-mails on his phone.

By four a.m. you’ve written six pages out of the ten required, but you still have points to discuss that’s going to take more than four pages to explicate. You turn to ask Jongin about his opinion whether to cut some points our or not.

“No wonder he was so still.” You whisper to yourself because the man on your couch is asleep, his arms crossed over his chest and head tilted so far back, you wonder how much it will ache tomorrow. You couldn’t leave him in that position while he sleeps.

You gently nudge his arms. “Hey, Jongin,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “You can move to sleep on my bed if you want,” you tell him.

Though he’s less than half conscious, he still considers, “But what about you?”

“I’m still working on my paper, and it’s due in a few hours. I probably won’t even make it to bed.” Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time you pull an all-nighter after a shift.

Jongin mutters something unintelligible so you ask him to repeat himself. He pops open his droopy lids and moves to sit up straighter. “I said, do you still need any help?”

You’ve never seen Jongin look so vulnerable. Sure he’s drinking at the bar almost every time you meet him, but Jongin has a high tolerance; even after many drinks that should have him knocked out, he barely sways in his gait.

You smile lazily since he can’t even focus on you. “No, Jongin. I’ll be fine so go sleep.” Lord knows how much he needs it.

Jongin eventually concedes, standing up from the couch and makes his way to your bed. But not before he presses his lips on your hairline, mumbling, “Thank you. Good night, love.”

Needless to say, you’re quite distracted by the man on your bed while you complete the darn paper.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Cringe-Worthy Excerpts 3.0 | This is basically humiliation

Hey People of Earth!

@sarahkelsiwrites​ and I created this game called Cringe-Worthy Excerpts where we basically go through our books and share mega cringy excerpts featuring words we generate from a random word generator. You can read my post in this series HERE, the second HERE (things get really messy). Also check out Sarah’s first post and second post.

Today, we’re doing things a little differently. Usually in this series, we choose lines from every single book/project we’ve ever worked on ever and share the most cringy, but today, we’re going to be playing this game with our most recent project ONLY.

So my WIP at the moment is FOSTERED #5 (which really needs a name pls), and hers is WITHER. Both of us are at a similar word count, so it’s going to be some pretty fair playing ground.

I’ll also be immensely humiliated, hence the title.

Sharing the cringe-worthy excerpts from my most recent works is always the worst... So enjoy as I embarrass the crap out of myself.

Word searched: Able

Excerpt:

That he’s really only ever [SPOILER]—an irrational fear I haven’t been able to shake. But the relief I feel—that pools through my body, touches at my insecurities and loosens them from around me, is stronger.

I mean this is less cringy and maybe just a little purple LOL. I call this a win since I couldn’t find anything cringier than this!

Word searched: Naïve

Excerpt:

I went from naïve to bitter. From feisty to untrusting. From energetic to lethargic. From happy and carefree to this. But one thing that hasn’t changed is him.

I mean yeah, this is sorta cringy. I mean that last sentence kinda kills me but maybe that's just cuz it’s cheesy.

Word searched: Conversation

Excerpt:

And it warms my heart to see them talking to this boy—this young, sixteen-year-old boy—so animatedly and with such genuine interest. Eventually the conversation slows to a stop and Mitch tells them that it’s late, and he needs to get back before Robbie completely loses his shit.

That em dash placement is pretty cringy. Not gonna lie. Like why? did? that? need? to? be? there? I already had an age drop though? Yeah. Warms my heart is so overused at this point and it’s not like it works here... Don’t know why interest is italicized but...

Word searched: Woman

Excerpt:

“You remember me,” I whisper to Rosemary, trying not to soften at her frightened gaze because this woman was the leader of a monstrous cult.

I mean there were so many ways to phrase this and I chose this way like srsly btch. This sentence is soooooooo terribleeeeeeee, oh myyyyyyyy criiiiiiinge.

Word Searched: Toss

Excerpt:

This is upsetting cuz I just wrote this like last week but:

By now, she’s got to be nine and entirely capable of thinking for herself. Although her face is hollow and sunken like mine, hair choppy, glasses bent, her youth doesn’t cease to arrange her features. There’s almost a glow to her skin, and although it’s diluted with grey, just seeing it makes my heart melt with relief. Being around Phillip’s seemed to ease her mood. “Yes,” I say, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I toss a small smile at Tristan when he slowly starts edging back into consciousness. “I’m sorry for interrupting your nap.” I tell him.

like why did I phrase this like this ??? I mean that whole diluted with grey thing is great, but then I. had. to. ruin. it. with. a. cliché ??? like who says she’s got to be, and ‘her youth doesn't cease to arrange her features’ just fml fml I say fml.

(I know I marked this as a paragraph to do an in depth edit on because I liked its concept but stilllllllllllllllllll)

and whats with that action+dialogue tag omg Rachel its not necessaryyyyy.

AND WHY IS THERE ANOTHER DIALOGUE TAG AT THE omg I quit.

Yeah this was the worst one. LOL. Upsetting, seeming as though of all these excerpts, this is the most recent...

Huh.

So I hope you guys enjoyed! I learned my current writing is not as cringy as I think it is (went through a lot of cringe-less excerpts this time), so I guess that’s cool? If you do this, make sure to tag Sarah and I in your posts!

Speaking of which, check Sarah’s post out HERE.

That’s it for now! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel