#I already filled out the job app ages ago and they never got back to me so my moms making me go see them to ask

[valeovalairs]

My moms making me go ask for a job in person wish me luck

[z0m813]

average notes app entry;

I've been feeling a lot of everything lately. I couldn't describe it, though. Just that I feel like there's something inside of me that's missing, but I can never quite catch it. Every time I try to look, just get a glimpse, it's fleeting back further into the recesses of my heart. I've lived a lot of lives, it seems. Yet it all came and went so fast-- cowboy surgeon, laundromat receptionist, student, sister, bully, artist, poet, child, daughter. I was all of these at one point but not anymore. I have no title to fill. No destiny to follow. Hell, here I am, and a whole year has passed since I started living in the attic of my grandparents house. Failed prodigal son that couldn't stay away from his small town filled with queer bashing, god fearing, hateful folk who can't stand me and I them. As I write this, I'm driving the same route I've taken to work since October, a simple job at a hotel front desk. My heart is filled with something. But I'm stuck. It seems I've lived out my life already. What more is there to do when you've done everything? I no longer have that same adventurous spirit that filled me three years ago or two years ago. I'm trapped, a butterfly who flew too long and ended up stuck to an entomologist's pin board of insects. Leg. Wing. Antenna. All these bits and pieces plucked away. Now I'm 21, and Joan of Arc had already died before she reached my age, she let armies, I've been thinking a lot about her of late. And yet, what have I done? What will I do? I'm scared that the most interesting parts of me will be left in my teen years and I will slowly grow to resemble the jocks who got a cubicle job at some accounting firm but never took off that letterman jacket. Is there anything left for me to fill? I do not know the answers to these questions, but I hope I find them soon-- both for my sake, and for the people around me. I've not yet loved-- will I ever? Lately, I've come to find that I don't much care about people. They speak, they cry, they laugh, they dance. Yet I feel that all I do is simply a reaction. Is it all a mirror of those in front of me? Sometimes I fear I have no heart. But it's not really fear. Just something that is, something that always was. If it possible to feel all too much for myself and way too little for others? Perhaps it is I, human greed and selfishness perfected. When I was 8 years old sitting on the back of my father's truck, I recall thinking, is this it? That was the first time I realized there was something missing inside of me. Do I really exist, or is this just going through the motions? Am I a person? Or am I a husk, a hallow piece of skin and flesh and meat and bone? Sometimes I scare myself. What will ever make this go away? I have a pack of Newports I keep in the center dash. I've only smoked three. I never seem to find the time to smoke more. Not a true smoker heart I suppose, which is surprising, giving my family's long history addiction. It's unfortunate, really, wanting so bad for something to stifle that pained edge in your heart, but nothing doing the trick. Nothing really setting me at ease. I used to have to take 8 of my grandma's Xanax pills just to feel calm. Maybe that's still the happiest I've been. Even if it tore my family apart. There it is again, that familiar sense of self-importance, selfish self pity, searcher of desires and bringer of destruction. I cannibalize everyone around me until there is nothing left of both of us.

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[rowyn-writes]

Funny Business

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Pairings: Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Gabriel, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Rowena, Jack (mentioned only)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Dean’s daughter, and you’re all getting ready to go to apocalypse world to rescue Jack, your best friend. When Gabriel sees that you’re upset about Jack’s absence, he tries to cheer you up and confesses that he likes you.

Requested by @daisyelll​

You missed your best friend.

It felt like Jack had been in apocalypse world for centuries. Of course you missed you grandmother, Mary, but you weren't really that close with her.

Yeah, Dean Winchester was you father. He had you at a young age, 22, to be exact. Your 'mother,' wasn't really ready to be a mom yet, so she had given you to Dean in hopes he would be a good father to you. And he was.

Dean didn't want you to grow up the way he did, so he never took you traveling. Most of the times, you would stay at Bobby's house, but your dad called to check in every night and to say 'I love you,' before you would fall asleep. Whenever he was in between hunts, he would always come see you and do a 'Daddy-daughter date,' where he would take you to the movies and go out to eat.

When Sam was stuck in the Cage with Lucifer, Dean came and got you, taking you to live with him, Lisa and Ben. You loved your little dysfunctional family. Lisa was a good female influence in your life, seeing as how your own walked out on you. That's why you were devastated when Castiel wiped Ben and Lisa's memories of the Winchester's.

But that all happened when you were a kid. Now, your 21, and desperately trying to find a way to bring your best friend back from apocalypse world.

You had never connected with someone like you connected with Jack. He was like your brother, and you'd kill to protect him.

"Where is the Witchy Winchester?" A Scottish voice filled the air. That was a nickname that Rowena gave you. A few years ago, you had dabbled a bit in magic, and ever since, she had been adamant on training you.

"Rowena!" You said happily, hugging the woman.

"Y/n Winchester." She smiled as she looked at you with sad eyes. "How are you, deary?"

"I'm powering through." You assured her. "I'm just ready to get my family home." Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"We'll get them back, sweetheart." He kissed the top of your head.

"It would be a lot faster if this dumbass, impotent archangel would grow a pair and lend some grace!" You growled loudly enough for Gabriel to hear from wherever he was in the bunker.

"Oh whatever, Baby Winchester! You try being tortured by a Prince of Hell and see how you feel." He called back.

"I was." You deadpanned. "And do you see me acting like a little bitch? No." Sam and Dean snickered at your comment.

"Alrighty then," Rowena said before your argument could continue. "Let's get started." She set down a large bowl on the table, along with a bunch of other ingredients. "Fruit from the tree of life." You began gathering your things, such as clothes, non perishable foods, water, and of course, weapons. You and your father had argued earlier on in the day about you joining them to go to apocalypse world, which ended in a screaming match that you won. You definitely got your temper from you father. "Blood of a most holy man." Sam tossed over a pack of glow sticks that you put in the bag. "And ah. . ." Rowena reached up and plucked a hair out of Dean's head.

"Ow!" He complained, rubbing the back of his head. You rolled your eyes as you continued to pack.

"Something from the other side." Rowena finished, adding his hair to the mix.

"Hey. How’s Gabriel." Sam asked when Cas entered the room.

"He said he needed a minute alone." He said, his voice a low rumble. "He wanted to extract his grace by himself. In private." You shivered at what the Angel told you. You did not want to imagine what he was doing to extract his grace. Your uncle and father had the same disturbed look on their face as you did. "So I left him alone in Dean’s room."

You bursted out laughing, your eyes crinkling at the edges like your dad's did. "You what? No." Dean seemed very grossed out at the thought of what Gabriel was doing in his room.

"I hate to interrupt, but I can’t be the only one to noticed the rather glaring hole in this plan." No one seemed to pay attention to the witch as you continued packing up for the trip. "We open up the rift, it gives us a day to find and save your Mom and the boy. And it’s a very big world over there, and you’re not even sure where they are, so. . . "

"She's right." Cas spoke up. "The clock may run out on us."

"Yeah. It might." Sam seemed indifferent and unconcerned. You couldn't help but feel the same way. All you wanted was your family back together. You tucked your loaded gun into the waistband of your jeans, covering it with your flannel shirt.

"Yeah, well we don’t have any better ideas." Dean shrugged.

"Mm, that’s inspirational."

"Here it is!" Gabriel exclaimed, walking in with a very dim looking vial of his grace. " The final ingredient - a fresh serving of archangel grace."

You raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. "That's pathetic." You announced, earning a snort from Rowena.  "Dude, I could give more 'grace' than that, and I'm a human. You could do better." Gabriel scoffed at your words.

"That is the jet fuel of divine emissions." He proclaimed. You gave a little gag, as Dean and Sam gave him disgusted looks. "It’ll be more than enough to get the job done."

You, Rowena and Cas gave each other skeptical looks. You all knew that there was no way that was going to work.  You shook your head as Rowena added more ingredients to the spell. You strapped two katana's on your back, adjusting them so they fit comfortably.

"Ya know, we won't judge you if you chose to sit this one out, kiddo." Your dad tried to convince you to stay back once more.

"Dad." You whispered, linking your hand with his. "I want to go. You're my family, and we don't leave family behind. Never." Dean gave you a small smile as he squeezed your hand. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Gabriel was watching you with curious eyes.

Rowena called you over to her, needing assistance with casting the spell. It was a rather powerful one, meaning it might need two witches instead of one. "Ready, deary?" You nodded.

"Koth Munto Nuntox." You both bellowed, motioning your hands towards the place where the rift was supposed to open. It gleamed orange, but you could tell the light was fading. There was no way anyone was going through that rift.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Cas asked the group.

"Yeah, all right." Sam nodded.

"Let’s do this." Dean agreed.

"Let's get our family back."

As you go to step through the rift, just like you expected, it began to fizzle and lean to the side. You all tilted along with it.

"Okay, that was very, very fast." You noted. The group seemed to agree with you.

"One could even say premature." Rowena remarked, making you laugh. Gabriel seemed to be flustered by you laughing at Rowena's joke.

"Um. . . I thought it would be enough." Gabriel coughed.

"All right, great. What do we do now?"

"I think we all know what to do." You said grimly. Rowena sent you and Sam a terrified look. You gripped her hand to give her reassurance. "I don't like this as much as the next person, but we need an Archangels grace. And it seems there's only one left on this god forsaken world that can actually provide his grace."

"No." Sam shook his head.

"We need to get Lucifer."

.

. .

. . .

You had decided to stay back while Sam, Dean, and Cas went to get Lucifer. Gabriel had already offered his assistance before coming back to the bunker. You were holed up in the library, starting at old pictures and videos on your phone. All of them were of you and Jack.

You giggled as you watched a video of Jack trying ice cream for the first time. "Ah!" He exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Is it supposed to hurt? Is this some kind of torture that humans use on each other?"

The video shook as you began to laugh. "No, silly. You just ate it too fast. It's actually really good if you slow down and savor it!"

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you scrolled through pictures of the two of you. He was your best friend. Your brother. And it hurt like hell to be so close to getting him, but still not quite there.

"Hey, Baby Winchester!" Gabriel said happily, walking into the room. "Guess who just captured Lucif-" He cut himself off as he saw the state you were in.

You quickly wiped away your tears, exiting out of the video app on your phone. "What do you want, Gabriel?" You sniffed.

"Are you okay?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned, which shocked you. The Archangel never cared about anyone but himself.

"I-I'm fine." You nodded.

He frowned as he approached you, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. "Hey, what's with the waterworks?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. If you spoke, you were sure to sob. You calmed yourself before you began to speak. "I miss Jack." You confessed. "He could always make me laugh when I needed to. And right now, I really need to laugh." Your voice broke as you talked.

Gabriel's frown deepened. He knew you to be this strong warrior, this tough young woman who feared nothing and no one. And to see you so broken hurt him. He stood up, snapping his fingers as he did so. I Wanna Dance With Somebody began to play.

"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"Yes, really. Now get your ass off that chair and come dance with me. You know, many women would kill to be in your position." You glared at him, feeling skeptical. It was known that Gabriel was a huge flirt. Hell, not even two hours earlier, he was flirting with Rowena, who quickly shot him down, clearly not interested.

"If you try anything, I'll kill you faster than you can say uh-oh." Gabriel held his hands up in surrender, silently promising that he wasn't going to pull any funny business. You slowly got up off the couch and walked towards him. He extended his hand, which you hesitantly took. Gabriel spun you around, making you gasp in surprise.

"I'm quite the dancer, if you didn't know." He smirked. You still weren't in the mood to put up with his bull shit. "I'm going to make you laugh, if it's the last think I do." He promised.

"Why do you care so much if I'm unhappy. You barely know me." You mumbled as Gabriel led you around to room.

"Because, from how little I do know about you, I know that seeing you cry is a rarity. You're this badass warrior goddess that supposedly doesn't have any emotion." You were about to question him when Gabriel interrupted you. "You're a legend in the Supernatural World." He explained.

"Yeah, for being Dean Winchester's daughter." You said bitterly.

"Ah, now why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because I want to be known for the people that I've saved and the good that I do. Not for just being my dad's daughter."

"Well, trust me, sweetheart, that's not all you're known for." You looked up at Gabriel as he rocked you back and forth to the music. He clearly wasn't pleased with the fact that you were still frowning, so he picked you up off the ground and twirled you around.

You gave a giggle of excitement as he did so, earning a proud grin from Gabriel. He began hopping around the room, making you laugh harder. "There's that beautiful laugh."

"Beautiful." You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

"Why do you find it so hard to believe that someone would use that word to describe you?"

You shrugged. "Because no one thinks of me that way."

"Now, that's not true. I'm sure many, many men and women would love to be with you." Gabriel insisted, which made you blush.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked.

"Well, if I told you, I think there would be a multitude of people trying to murder me." He confessed.

You gave him a questioning look, not realizing what he was trying to tell you.

"Jeez, you Winchester's are so oblivious. I like you, Y/n. But I know if I acted on anything, you're family would murder me in a heartbeat."

You looked at him for a moment before grabbing his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. It took him a moment to kiss you back, but when he did, you were breathless. "Then we don't tell anyone. Not yet at least."

"Ooh, a secret love. I like that sound of that, Winchester." He murmured as he kissed you again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I can promise there will be a part two, hehe. 

[caermis]

❝Love❞ Ch. 1

❦BNHA! Various X Black!Reader ❦Characters:  ⇻Izuku Midoriya ⇻Mirio Togata ❦Warnings: None ❦Plot: “Y/N L/N. Thank you for your help.” -H.E.R.O Ward Association, Block 15. A young 20-year-old, that has been chosen as the right choice to raise 10 Installments. That are Children? ❦Notes: ⇻This does not involve Pedophilia, Hebephilia, or Ephebophilia(Nothing to do with a sexual attraction towards literal children) -G/BsF/N = Best Friend’s name

❝Ch.1❞  ❝Ch.2❞

Chapter One

A New Mother's Dismay

Midoriya & Togata

I am Y/N L/N

Her E/C eyes silently watched the striped ball roll to her feet, before trailing up the group of kids in front of her. They were all faceless, and their voice held no real warmth or joy, but they screamed the 10-year-old's name. Over and Over and Over. Asking her to play or pass the ball to them. Slowly picking up the ball, taking slow steps before speeding up excitedly. They cheered her name, waiting for her. Before she tripped over her own feet. Tumbling to the ground, the ball rolled back to the other kids. Feeling tears prick her eyes, before slowly sitting up. Only this time, the kids frowned at her, and picked the ball up, and walked away.

I am Y/N L/N

I stared at the red F- on my test; I gripped my skirt, trying to stop the tears at my failure. The faceless high school students chuckled and turned from me like I wasn't even worth bullying. Like I didn't exist. I was alone. I am alone. Repeating those words, I looked into the mirror and watched my face morph into the kind face of my mother. I would never be like her.

I am Y/N L/N

My feet dragged against the pavement, I casually walked home. I sighed. I was currently a university student, who was after their Master's degree in literature. Having published a book, when I was 18, lucky it allowed me to get a scholarship and buy a house, still didn't mean I wouldn't have to get a thankless job.

Luckily working at the University Cafe wasn't extremely bad. Tiredly lifting my arm, iLuckily,t was already 9 pm, and the sun had set a few hours ago, but the streets were still lively, with other College students going out on dates. Seeing my apartment building in the distance, I let out a sigh and took out the gate key. Inputting my pin code, I opened the metal gate and slipped inside and let out a yawn. Staggering up the steps, I walked down the hall, just wanted to get inside and change into something comfortable, until I noticed a package in front of my door.

Walking up to the brown cardboard box, my name written decoratively in sharpie. Lifting the box, I quickly unlocked my front door and slipped inside. Kicking my shoes off and locking the door, I walked into the living room and placed the box on the coffee table. Using my keys, I ripped through the tape and began to open the box. A white card rested on top of a black box, my fingers grabbing the card and reading over it.

A gift.

-H.E.R.O Ward Association. Block 15

"What..." Placing the card aside, I pulled out the large black box and took off its plastic wrapping, my fingers running along the metal of it, before opening it. I yanked my hands away, staring wide-eyed at the money inside. I slapped my hands over my mouth and stared at it, before grabbing the note on top and reading it. 

Y/N L/N,

Congratulations! You have been chosen as the direct Caretaker of Block 15: U.A-L.O.V. This is part of your payment, once receiving an installment, which is 200'000 per Installment. This amount has been doubled as of today, due to [REDACTED] circumstances. Expect the arrival between this week or next week.

Thank you,

-H.E.R.O Ward Association. Block 15

I bite my bottom lip, closing the box. So it wasn't a mistake. Grabbing my computer, I started to look at the H.E.R.O Ward Association. Finding absolutely nothing or anything I did find was restricted. I stared back at the box, thinking of ways to get rid of it or return it. I didn't sign up for this, but something told me I couldn't get out of this predicament. 

“John! A Number 15! For Mary!” You called out before turning back to the woman behind the counter. “That’ll take just a minute.” Mary smiled and turned from the counter, going back with her friends. Seeing that was the last person, I let out a sigh. Just happy that the lunch rush was over. 

Rocking on my heels, I glanced over the cafe, before locking eyes with a tall boy with blonde hair. Dread immediately filled my stomach as he smiled brightly and proudly walked towards the register, making exaggerated movements with his arms.  

I watched him with a raised eyebrow as he came closer, just spotting a short boy with green hair stumble after him. Upon reaching the counter, he smiled. “Are you L/N-san?” I nodded and watched his smile get bigger and he pulled out a white card and passed it to me. 

Y/N L/N, The first installment. 1/10

Name: Mirio Togata. Age: 9 Block 15: Permeation

Looking from the note back to Miro then looking away from the blonde boy and yelling into the back. “I’m heading out early! It’s an emergency!” Turning back to Mirio, he stared at me with happy blue eyes. “You're very pretty L/N-san.” Giving a half-assed smile, you slipped off your apron and moved around the counter, just spotting the green-haired boy as he hid behind Mirio. “Oh! This is Izuku. He’s 7 and shy. Say hi and give L/N-san your card.” Miro ushered Izuku forward, making him almost trip but catch himself and fumble with his fingers, and pull out a card, quickly pass it to me and hide behind Mirio. 

Y/N L/N, The first installment. 1/10

Name: Izuku Midoriya. Age: 7 Block 15: One for All

Not having time to go over the details, crouched down and stared at them. Offering your hand. “Let’s go get something to eat.” Mirio excitedly grabbed my hand, while Izuku slowly grabbed mine. Standing up, I walked with the two boys, heading towards the pizza parlor, mentally thankful that I left my backpack at home, and that I kept my wallet, phone, and keys on you. 

Finding a table in the back, I left them here to get a medium-sized pepperoni, half cheese pizza. Paying for the meal, I went back to the table, waiting for my name to be called. “Thank you, L/N-san,” Izuku whispered quietly as he sat beside him, fiddling with his hands.

“Y/N. Call me Y/N.” You smiled and clutched your hands together, having literally no idea what to do. The two seemed respectable enough not to cause trouble. “Y/N. I like your name a lot. Are you from America, cause…” He trailed off, subconsciously rubbing his skin, his eyes on mine. 

“Cause you look different.” Izuku grabbed my hand, showing the difference of skin tone, “but not a bad different. A good different.” The green-haired boy quickly added on. Mirio nodded, smiling at me. Feeling my heart clench, I ran my hand through Izuku’s hair and reached across the table and padded Mirio’s head. “Thank you.”

“A half Pepperoni and half Cheese for Y/N!” Pulling for the two boys, I told them to wait for me as I went up and grabbed the pizza. “Y/N! You had kids! When!” One of my friends, G/BsF/N grabbed my arm and stared at me. I rapidly shook my head and crossed my arms. “Hell no! Listen, I’ll explain later!” Grabbing the table, you headed back to the two boys. 

“I've never eaten pizza!” Mirio excitedly took a bite of his slice, while I quickly slid a plate, handing  Izuku a smaller slice. Watching the two eat, I pulled out my phone, going through different apps. 

“Y/N?” Looking at Mirio, watching him sink lower into his seat. He stared at me with wide eyes, seeming to be panicking. Permeation. I quickly stood up and moved to his side. Grabbing his shoulder. Not exactly sure what to do, I made him look at me. “Y/N, Im...Im sorry-”

“Hey. It’s alright. Just breathe. I'm here ok.” I spoke softly, slowly patting his head. Watching him slowly reappear from his seat, his hands gripped my shirt. Staring at him, whatever I just got myself into, I couldn't back out of.

“Miri... I'm here for you ok. It was an accident. Let’s just go home alright. We can buy clothes and things tomorrow.” I slowly pulled away. Packing up the rest of the pizza before leaving. 

Upon arriving at my apartment, I found a yellow and blue backpack in front of my door. “I'm assuming those belong to you two?” Mirio sheepishly smiled, as I walked with a sleeping Izuku on my back. “Sorry. We thought you'd be home, but you weren't so we went out to find you.”

“How do you know where I work?” 

“The man who brought us here told us.” I unlocked the door, allowing him inside first. Watching Mirio quickly slip off his shoes and dart deeper into the house, excitedly looking around. Walking inside, I kicked the door closed and took off my shoes, lacing Izuku on the couch, and using my coat as a blanket. Placing the box of pizza on the counter.

“Mirio?” Walking down the hall heading to the spare bedroom, Mirio stared out the window into the street. “Y/N, is this me and Izuku’s bedroom?” I slowly nodded, staring at the makeshift bed, until I actually bought a bed. 

“I thought you both could help me buy a bed. Seeing as money isn't an issue.” Mirio nodded excitedly and rushed out of the room, going to explore the apartment. Which had only three bedrooms and two full bathrooms, so they had enough to explore. 

After a few minutes of exploring on Mirio’s part, and me on the computer, looking at certain bed frames, Izuku cuddled up to my side. 

“Y/N! Do you think we can go to school!” Mirio slid into the living room, a red sheet around his neck like a cape. He was playing superheroes with himself, saving invisible citizens and villains, going by Lemillion. “Well, legally you'll have to.” Mirio cheered and disappeared down the hall. 

“Do I have to go to school too?” Izuku tiredly rubbed his eyes and looked up at me. I nodded and watched him smile. “Izuku come play Heroes with me!” Izuku looked fully awake and climbed down, darting towards the sound of Mirio’s voice. 

Listening to their cheering and entrances introducing themselves, sometimes bickering on how to save someone. My eyes focused on the best schools close to the apartment, before settling on Boku No Hero Academia K-12 School. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!” Izuku in a white cape, naming himself to be All Might, and Mirio who had changed his red cape to a black one, changing into a villain. Ran into the living room, staring at me. “Play Heroes and Villains with us! You can be the person I save.” 

“But I wanna save Y/N too.”

“But we need a Villain and Villains can't save people.” Izuku and Mirio went back and forth before I stopped them. “You can take turns.” The two nodded, and we went on to play. 

“Give me the secret formula!”

“Ah, save me!” Struggling in your metal restraints (horribly tied yarn) you stared at Villain Lemillion with fearful eyes, as you fell closer to the lava(floor). “That’s fine. This lava can read your mind, so I'll win either way! Mwahaha!” 

“Someone help me! I need a hero please.” Falling closer to the lava until the door opened and there appeared the hero All Might. “I am here to save you Y/N-oops I mean-I am here to save you, citizen!” He chucked a pillow at Villain Lemillion making him fall back. “No, my plans!” Watching him fall into the lava, dying with his tongue out and making a sizzling sound. 

“Are you alright!?” All Might jumped onto the platform, undoing my restraints and making sure I was alright. “Thank you! You saved me! You're my hero.” All Might look embarrassed and smiled.

“Still sizzling over here.” 

We looked over the edge of the platform(my bed) and down at Villain Lemillion, who was somehow still alive. “How are you alive!? I killed you!” 

“You're a hero. Heroes don't kill people!”

“Y/N, do heroes kill people?” Mirio and Izuku looked at me, I thought for a second. “I guess if they really need to but never their main villain.” 

“Main villain?” Mirio climbed onto the bed and stared at me. “Like the person, they go up against. “Like Batman and the Joker. Their main rivals, but you can always have more than one rival.”

“Like! Like! Um...when All Might fought All for One so they're main rivals!”

“Oh! You're so smart!” Izuku's eyes lit up as the two talked. Maybe All Might was a Hero, I haven't heard of. You brushed it off and checked the time, 8:23 PM, and the boys ate around 5 or 6, so dinner was in order. “We’ll eat dinner, then you both can take a bath. We’re going to check out your schools tomorrow.” The two cheered and climbed down, rushing towards the kitchen. Following them, deciding to settle on Pizza, which they basically inhaled and ready for a bath.

While they took a bath together, I chose their PJs, realizing that Mirio had zero sense for what was for bed and what was not. After a few minutes of slashing and hero talk, they both came out squeaky clean, saying that heroes needed to be clean. Tucking them into bed, they both started asking me for a bedtime story.

“Uh, I don't know any.”

“Make one up!”

“N/N, please!” Izuku called me by my nickname, staring at me with Puppy dog eyes. Sighing, I cleared my throat and made myself comfortable. “Once upon a time, there was a boy. A boy not many liked cause he was different, though this boy had a friend. A friend that was really mean to him and put that boy down.”

“If they were friends. Why was his friend mean to him?” Mirio spoke quietly, staring with half-lidded eyes. Izuku slowly nodded, “Shouldn't friends be nice to each other?”

“Until that boy met a hero, and that hero gave that boy his power, after some convincing. So the boy was given the old Heroes power, a dangerous power that would hurt the boy, but the old Hero didn't tell the boy that. So the boy could tell no one. Though this boy didn’t listen and told his friends, who didn't believe him. We soon learn his friend is jealous, he thinks the boy looks down on him. Jealousy is a nasty thing.”

“That doesn't sound like a hero.” Mirio slowly dozed up, while Izuku softly muttered. Slowly patting his head, I nodded.

“I guess it doesn't.”

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 2.8k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh...incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is going to be a drabble series. It’s not planned out, it has no planning. It will be written as and when I get the inspiration for it. The Flower app is inspired by the Bumble app in which women make the first move on it. This is just purely something to try and get me back into enjoying writing again so...please show it and me some love because I already love this Hoseok? I haven’t proof read lol

Flower Masterpost

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...download the app and go. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well you could get murdered. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of issues I guess. On the other hand...I could meet the love of my life. I mean...is that likely?” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers connected to your television, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself on the screen.

Your focus though, is solely on the phone in your hand. Soyeon, your best friend, had been bugging you to join some online dating sites for a while and it had only gotten worse when your other friend Chungha told her that she fully agreed with her. Part of you felt cornered by them both but another part of you understood them.

They were just looking out for you. You were naturally quiet and shy, introverted and preferring to remain inside or on the sides if you were dragged to a party. An inability to engage in small talk meant that that you struggled to make conversation with people as well. That all resulted in a small circle of friends who understood you well but that was it, everyone else was merely acquaintances who would hang out with you simply because they were friends with your friends.

As such, it meant that you struggled with dating. And by that, you mean that you hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Nor could you do flings like some of your friends did, the very thought filled you with anxiety.

This was why they had suggested trying online dating, because you’d lamented to them about how lonely you’d started to feel. You were still relatively young, and you knew that relationships weren’t the be all and end all. But when you haven’t dated since college, it starts to feel like no one is interested in you at all. And that was a hard feeling to take in.

You wanted to be like your friends. To have someone to talk to about things without feeling embarrassed, someone who would enjoy being in your company and actively seek you out, someone to be intimate with. Someone to fall in love with. It sounded cheesy and stupid but both Soyeon and Chungha had taken your concerns to heart.

They’d asked if you wanted to be set up on blind dates but the very idea of that made you lose your breath with anxiety, the fear of failure or judgement from someone who has never met you before overwhelming. So Soyeon had suggested online dating and now here you were, curled up on your couch on a Saturday night, a glass of water on the side because you don’t like alcohol and the app store open to dating apps.

“Tinder...isn’t that just for hookups?” You murmur, frowning as you look at some of the reviews. There were probably people who had managed to get lasting relationships on Tinder, but the idea of having random people actively deciding whether or not you were worth trying simply from a photo or something was horrible. Not that you had any idea how it actually worked, but still…

A few other apps look to be the more traditional online dating route and you consider whether to download one of them. But then you see an app that attracts your attention, a small soft pink and orange logo with the outline of a white flower in it. The title is simply ‘Flower’ and you take click on it to read the description.

‘Find the perfect partner and watch love or friendship bloom like a flower! 

The Flower app asks you to set up a profile by asking you a series of questions to determine your interests and personality. We then set you up with a series of people we consider to be a good match and give you the opportunity to initiate a conversation!

Here at Flower, we want to make sure that dating is fun and most importantly, equal. As such, we allow women to be the one to initiate contact with their matches. This means that if you’re looking for a same sex relationship, then you can both reach out. The same goes if you don’t identify as female or male. If you’re looking for a heterosexual relationship, then you can reach out to your match and he can decide whether he wants to respond. 

We don’t tolerate any form of hate speech or intolerance and will respond with quick action against this. At Flower, we promote inclusivity, diversity and tolerance. We want the world to grow and bloom with love, one relationship at a time!’

The reviews for the app seemed to back up their description and you felt curious. An impulse takes over and you download it, tongue sticking out as you wait before loading it up once it’s done. The interface is clean and take a moment to chew your lip before clicking the sign up button.

Everything seems to be rudimentary at first, asking for your age and location, name and occupation. But then it starts to ask some other questions. Your favourite film genres, a list of favourite films, your favourite books, where you’d like to go on vacation, favourite music and songs and so much more. Some of it felt bizarre, like would you rather eat chicken or beef? Would you rather drive an Audi or a Ford?

You presumed it all had a reason though, and after what felt like five minutes of answering questions, you finally had a profile. Flicking through the gallery on your phone, you found a picture that you felt was flattering while still showing your personality. It’s from a few months ago and was taken with a Polaroid camera, giving it that distinctive filter that always seemed to be flattering everyone.

You were giving a small smile, eyes looking to the left of the camera while your chin was in your hand. Nose wrinkled slightly, a soft and fluffy white cream sweater covers you while a cherry blossom scarf is wrapped elegantly round your neck. And on top of all that...a bright yellow Pikachu hat sits on top of your head.

It had been your birthday and the girls had managed to coax you out for dinner before presenting you with a bunch of presents. They’d been a random assortment, as usual, but you’d loved it all. A skin care gift set, the Pikachu hat and a Pusheen stationery set. Your colleagues at your admin assistant job had given you the side eye when you’d added yet more cute and strange things to your already colourful and cluttered desk but you’d ignore them.

This picture had been one of the best taken of you recently and you smiled gently as you made it your profile picture. You didn’t like being photographed, constantly convinced that you were unattractive but your friends were convinced otherwise.

Everything looked to be set up and you wondered what you meant to do now, when a sudden notification pops up on the screen with ‘20 Matches Found’. Sudden anxiety makes you feel sick, stomach rolling with nerves as your veins practically fizz as you click on the view more button. These were people who the app had compared your own answers to and considered to be the best matches.

There’s a tiny moment of waiting as a tiny flower in orange and pink blooms and you sigh when it finally clears. The profiles are shown in descending order with those most matched to least. A tiny refresh button in the corner let’s you see that you can refresh your matches if necessary.

Each profile shows their profile image, their name, age and location. Scrolling through them, you note idly that you seem to have got a wide range of people that you had matched with. A 24-year-old swimming instructor named Kim Chaeyoung, a 31-year-old high school English teacher named Seo Jinwoo, a 29-year-old mechanic called Park Jisoo and more.

It was interesting to see the wide range of people that had come back and you perused their profiles carefully, reading the little description they’d written for themselves along with a few answers to questions similar to what you’d had to answer. The app seemed to pull a range range of questions for you read, with each person’s being slightly different.

You supposed it meant that you would need to ask for that information and you found yourself curious about one or two people, pressing the little button that indicated it would bookmark their profile for later viewing. Apparently you had a week to make the first interaction before it would vanish.

Humming lightly, you wondered if anyone would be interested in talking to you? 

Everyone looked so pretty on here and you wondered if you matched up to them. Would they consider you worth their time? Biting your lower lip, you shrug your shoulders and decided you had nothing to lose really. You didn’t know these people in real life and no one would laugh at you for simply reaching out and trying to make a connection.

You come across one profile that makes you pause though, your brow lifting in surprise as you wonder why on earth the app has matched you with this guy. The two of you don’t even look like you come from the same planet, nevermind have enough aligning interests to warrant being in your top 20 matches at the moment.

Clicking on his profile, you read through his basic info question while you purse your lips, making soft noises in your throat.

Jung Hoseok. 28 years old. IT Technician. 

He sounded pretty normal and you wouldn’t even give it a second thought normally, but his appearance did not match the casual job description he had. Maybe you were just being stereotypical here, but most of the IT people in your workplace were of the nerdy looking variety. And you only say that because every one of them wore some form of Rick and Morty or other pop culture shirts.

Which you were fine with, because you enjoyed most of the same things too. But no one looked like this guy.

The reason you were so surprised was because of his profile picture, and despite your earlier thoughts about just sending messages to everyone for the sake of it, you felt a well of anxiety rising again as you looked at him. This guy is quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, the kind of guy that people only think exists when they’re rich and famous.

But he’s also completely unlike you. He’s evidently at some sort of event as he has a bottle of beer in his hand while his other hand is making the metal horns shape. One eye is closed to camera, winking while his tongue is poking out of his mouth on one side, white teeth visible beneath pink lips amidst gold skin. A silver ring pierced his lower lip on the right while a small ball is visible in his tongue.

His hair is jet black, gleaming in the crappy lighting in a messy state that looks slightly wet while his exposed skin has a sheen of sweat on it. A red and black shirt unbuttoned on him, rolled up to his elbows to reveal toned forearms that are completely covered in vibrant and bright colour.

The tattoos make what you presume to be full sleeves on both arms, his left arm appearing to be a swirling galaxyscape with brilliant galaxies, planets, moons and more interwoven with, bizarrely, dragons that are almost transparent. They look beautiful though, and you get an image of space dragons made of fine dust flying through the vast expanse of space as you look at them.

His other arm looks to be a mesh of things together, flames and flowers and skulls and ships. None of it makes any sense to you, but you’re positive it probably means something to him. One of the sleeves expands onto his hand, the one showing the horns and you eye the clock tattoo that takes up the space.

His tattoos look to expand beyond his arms as the black top beneath his shirt gives tantalising glimpses of the black and colour tattoos that obviously sprawl across his chest. Strands creep upwards, almost to his neck and you get the impression of something fiery, the soft wisps of red and orange looking like burning embers on his skin.

This guy...looked like he belonged in a metal band or tattoo shop. And he was...beautiful, way out of your league. 

Which was why you had to have experienced an out of body moment when your finger presses the message button, the screen popping up with an automatic message pre filled out for you.

“Hey, Flower shows that we’re good matches so I’m reaching out to you! If you would like to talk to me, please respond!”

Scowling, you deleted the message, deciding it would be bad manners to just send the template message to someone that you were attracted to. That thought gives you pause, acknowledging that you are in fact attracted to him. He looked like the kind of guy who would take one look at your profile and laugh himself home at the prospect of doing anything with you.

The man clearly thrived on social situations, enough of his profile gave that away and again you wondered why the app matched you together. Maybe he had some secret love of Pokemon or something. Looks could be deceiving, obviously.

And even if you’d never listened to a metal song in your life...you were always open to trying new things. If you were going to open yourself up to the prospect of online dating, then you may as well go fully out of comfort zone.

Swallowing, you carefully type out a short message and spend the next five minutes reading it over as anxiety and fear swirl within you. Indecision causes you to wonder whether you should just delete it all and ignore his profile, going for the safe option of someone who looks like they’d be more accepting of you on your list.

But the allure of something so unlike you pulls you in and you press send, watching the message swoosh away and changing his profile to a soft pink to indicate that you’d initiated contact. Almost immediately you feel sick, body going cold as you pant ever so slightly.

Oh god, he’s going to read that message and take one look at your profile then delete the message. He probably had hookups all the time, the kind of guy you shouldn’t get involved with. You had no interest in being a one night stand and- you shake your head, clenching your teeth and taking a deep breath.

Stereotypes are damaging to yourself and others, you tell yourself quietly. There’s no reason to paint him with a negative brush already when he’s not even had a chance to do anything. And so what if he only wanted hookups? It was the 21st century, men and women could sleep with who they wanted, as often as they wanted and they shouldn’t face the prejudice you’re showing him already.

Before you can even think anything else though, your phone sends out a soft, melodic note and you look down with wide eyes. The message icon has an orange notification on it, signifying that you have a new message on there. Hesitating, you wonder if it’s just one of those generic ‘welcome’ messages that you sometimes get when you sign up for sites.

But the name of the sender tells you very much that it’s not a generic message, and the cold fear mixes with nervous excitement and trepidation as you see Jung Hoseok’s name. He must have already been on his phone to have responded so fast, and you wonder if he’s just sent a polite ‘thank you but no’ back.

It would be awfully nice of him if he did. Embarrassing, but polite.

Opening the message, your jaw drops and eyes widen as you read what he’s responded with.

You: Hi. I don���t know how to use this properly, so I’m sorry if I do it wrong. You showed as a match and...well I guess I say I’m interested? Not as a friend, unless you want that. I mean...the other way. Feel free to say no! Y/N

Reading it back over, you cringe at how...you it sounds. Hesitant and awkward and shy. Dammit, why couldn’t you just seize the moment and sound confident for once? Say something bold that would attract his attention.

And then you read his response.

Hoseok: Hey Y/N. Thanks for reaching out. How are you tonight?

[gureishi]

Here’s a lil nighttime drabble about my CMC! I don’t post much OC content here, but I’ve been working on her recently, and I thought I’d share a little snippet~

Here’s some basic info about her!

Eunji is my CMC for Saeyoung. She’s half-Korean, half-white, with a Korean father and an American mother. She grew up in Seoul; her parents split up when she was 14 and she moved to New York with her mother—she’s lived there ever since. As a teenager, she mostly fended for herself, as her mother was busy and distant. In the OS timeline, she’s 25 (Korean)/24 (International); she’s a dancer, and a few weeks prior to getting the text from Unknown, she’s lost her job, gotten kicked out of her dance company, and broken up with her long-term girlfriend. Feeling like she no longer belonged anywhere, she got on a plane to Seoul, where she’s been desperately trying to piece together her fragmented life.

The characters mentioned by name in this drabble are Kate (her girlfriend from New York, with whom she’s just broken up) and Min (her first love from Seoul, whose couch she’s been sleeping on while she searches her hometown for a sense of direction).

(cw: alcohol)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The later it gets, the louder it is here.

Eunji taps her fingers against the bar. Her hands feel sticky—so does the stool she’s sitting on. Even the air in here feels damp, sweaty with the scent of stale beer

Pop music that’s a few years old blares over the speakers. She bobs her head, against her will, to the rhythm of the music: these songs stir up memories that make her heart feel cut wide open. Time swirls around her, cascading in waterfalls and rippling pools: it feels like yesterday that she was living here—just down the street, in the big apartment with the willow trees out front. This morning, though—waking up on the lumpy couch of somebody she wishes she could’ve forgotten entirely—seems like it was years ago (or perhaps like it happened to another person entirely).

The bartender—a moderately attractive guy around her age with long eyelashes and a backwards baseball cap—props his elbows on the sticky surface in front of her, taking her by surprise. Her thoughts are heavy, sluggish; she’s feels like she’s barely living in her own body.

“Another?” he asks, tapping the counter beside her half-empty glass. She raises her eyebrows.

On the one hand: she knows better. She’s got all her belongings in an annoyingly large backpack propped at her feet (probably permanently stuck to the beer-soaked floor by now); she probably has more important things to do than sit here all night.

And yet—does she?

Because, on the other hand, the bartender is gazing at her with a hungry look that she recognizes; and it would be too easy to give in: get drunk in this loud, miserable bar, make doe eyes at the poor boy till he gives her someplace to stay for the night.

She runs a finger around the rim of the glass, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Maybe later,” she tells him.

He winks at her as he backs away: his cards are on the table.

A couple appears behind her, takes the stools to her left. They are speaking in loud voices—they’re drunk, and handsy. Eunji sighs heavily, letting her head sink down onto her folded arms.

In moments like these, she often feels she can envision every choice she’s made that’s led her here; when she’s the most lost, her weary mind reminds her of all the things she could’ve (should’ve) done differently. She sees herself on the plane: arms crossed, music pounding too loud through her headphones as she refuses to watch the New York skyline fading away in the distance—staring resolutely into the bleak, grey seat back in front of her, swearing off her old life with the force she’d used to throw her key onto Kate’s counter, not bothering to catch it as it bounced to the floor with a resounding clatter.

She sees herself, too, frantically texting from the airport: running through the roster of old friends, most of whom she hadn’t spoken to for years; she’s not great at staying in touch, and she knows better than to try and apologize.

“Back in Seoul for a little bit!” she’d written, again and again. “What are you up to?”

She sees herself in Min’s apartment, hiding in the bathroom with the shower running till he went to sleep—just in case he wanted to try and talk or re-connect or, worse, touch.

She sees herself yelling at him, her muscles feeling like they’ve been set on fire, burnt to ashes. She pictures herself storming out—running away yet again, another key left on a counter, another lingering admonishment ringing in the hollow air behind her.

Her phone, face up on the counter before her, lights up. She grabs it too fast, loathing herself for her impatience; it’s him, of course.

“Come back,” he writes. “Let’s talk about it.”

Her stomach turns. She flips her phone over.

“Hey, babe.” The bartender is back, tilting his head to the side, giving her what he probably thinks is an all-knowing look. She rolls her eyes.

“Can I help you?”

He’s unfazed—she’ll give him that. Trick of the trade.

“Rough night, huh?” he asks; god, and it’s cliche. She wants to throw her drink in his face, just so she can say she’s done it.

Instead, she bats her eyelashes at him (not ready to let her one chance at a bed to sleep in slip through her fingers).

“I’ve had better days,” she admits.

“You’ve got an accent,” he tells her, and she feels her cheeks flushing—she knows this, is painfully conscious that the ten years she’s spent out of the country have made her sound like a foreigner. This is my home, she wants to scream.

“I’m from New York,” she says instead.

“A tourist, huh?” he teases. She pulls her arms from the bar, clenches her fists in her lap. Oh, she hates him, she decides—so much for a place to stay.

“I grew up here,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “So, not exactly.”

Something in her expression frightens him—she can see it. He gives her a halfhearted smile as he slips away, ducking behind the bar. Just as she’s about to dig some cash out of the (rapidly dwindling) wad at the bottom of her bag and throw it on the counter, her phone buzzes again. She groans; she can feel the eyes of the couple beside her; the man whispers something in the woman’s ear and she giggles. 

And no matter how hard she runs, she doesn’t seem to be able to get away.

It’s all swirling in her mind: Kate’s face and Min’s voice and the roar of the plane; her mother’s back as she mutters that Eunji is far too old to let her life fall apart like this again; the endless job postings; the stale, dry air in her and Kate’s apartment back home.

Home.

She finishes her drink.

With a shaky hand, she flips over her phone, ready to tell him “No,” or “Leave me alone,” or “I’ve got a new place to stay, thanks”—knowing he’ll see through the lie, feeling, already, the familiar racing sensation somewhere behind her lungs that says keep running.

It’s not him.

There’s a notification on her screen from an app she’s never seen before; impatiently tucking her unruly hair behind her ear, she swipes up.

Strange code scrolls across the screen; she almost sets her phone back down in a huff—just her luck, to have accidentally downloaded some sort of scam app. A message appears; her mind feels hazy, thoughts a beat behind her racing heart.

Feeling a little dizzy, she squints at the screen, head throbbing as the nostalgic music fills up her overwrought mind.

Username Unknown says Hello…?

Eunji’s fingers tap an erratic rhythm against the sticky bar. It’s too loud in here—too quiet inside her wretched heart.

She answers.

[cashtonwildflower]

Pas de Trois: I

NOTE: Here is the first part to my Bi!Poly!Cashton Fic. This is an intro of sorts. The next part will be more eventful, and angsty. Maybe even some smut? Please let me know what you think!

She was agitated. 

She imagined that once she got her Masters and her license in counseling, she would have her own place with maybe a roommate. No, she was 24 and after 6 years of schooling and freedom, she was back where it all started her childhood home with her slightly, well excessively overbearing parents. Every single time her phone made the tiniest sound her mom was asking who was texting her and if it was a boy or not. 

She also imagined that at 24 she would have a somewhat stable relationship, not a bunch of random strangers on apps like Bumble and Hinge ghosting her (or vice versa) after the conversation had gone stale and no one cared enough to revive it. She just wanted someone consistent, and someone who actually cared for conversation and not just wanted her Snap to see private images she only shared out of sheer boredom, and admittedly filled the void she so longed to have filled. 

But that is not exactly why she was agitated at this very moment in time. No, she was agitated because she had an extremely strenuous day at work. She loved her job, but listening to other people’s problems and trying to think of ways to solve them simultaneously was exhausting. All she wanted to do was go home, take off her pants that began to fill entirely too restricting on her thicker thighs, and take a nice warm bath. A glass of wine and some Leon Bridges in the background also sounded like a well-deserved plan to her. 

But as always her plans didn’t always, well never seemed to totally work out in her favor. As soon as he crossed the threshold of her home, she was greeted by the sound of her mother’s laugh, which she knew to be fake because no one’s laugh was that shrill,  and an unfamiliar man’s laugh. This laugh was deep, warm, and a hint of sultriness to it. It took her no less than 10 seconds to know that she loved the sound of this laugh. 

Her thoughts were cut short when felt her dad place his arms around her shoulders and whisper, “Mom, is entertaining the new neighbors. They’re a newlywed couple from Australia.” Her dad said with an eye roll and a tilt of head towards the kitchen. She would be a liar if she said she didn’t feel a little deflated to know that the owner of one of the most beautiful laughs she has ever heard was married. 

She felt a twinge of jealousy. 

She Imagined the couple to be this perfect, fit, successful couple in their early 30’s. She imagined Mr. Beautiful Laugh to be tall, a little muscular, but also a little soft, with sunkissed Australian skin. She imagined the wife to be the exact opposite of her. Tall, blonde, tan, with a great sense of style, and a knack for making her husband laugh. 

She shook her head quickly to dismiss those unwelcome and quite honestly, toxic thoughts out of her mind. Why was she so jealous of a woman she never met? All because of a laugh? Or because she wanted to make someone laugh. She wanted a relationship. She wanted a partner. She wanted someone to share her intellect, and random world views and thoughts with. Yes, that’s it!

Just as she was finishing her war with her mind she heard her mother’s voice call her name from the kitchen. 

She took a deep breath, cleared her thoughts, and closed her eyes. As she walked into the kitchen she was extremely shocked to see two gorgeous men sitting in the barstools parked at the kitchen island.

As soon as her eyes land on them she feels ashamed for assuming that her new neighbors were a stereotypical, suburban straight couple. This is 2020 for fuck’s sake. 

“Hello, lovely to meet you,” the longer, dark-haired man says extending his hand to offer a handshake. 

She smiles and returns his friendly gesture. His large, masculine hand envelopes her small feminine one. “I’m Ashton and this is my husband Calum,” He nods his head to where Calum is standing.

She tears her eyes away from Ashton to glance at Calum. He has buzzed hair, but he is smiling warmly at her. He walks over and takes the hand that his husband just let go of and mutters a friendly greeting. 

Despite the fact that their greeting felt like ages, it was barely 30 seconds, and her mother is already announcing that dinner is ready. 

As they eat dinner she learns that they just moved to her hometown from Sydney. They have been married for about a year before Ashton got his job at one of the local universities as a Chair of the Photography department. She discovered that Ashton and Calum met in college when they were both 18, but didn’t start dating until they were 21. Then 9 years later they got married and moved across the globe to continue their journey together. 

As they are talking, she can’t help but analyze them. Individually and as a couple. She can tell that they love one another, but she also senses that there is some tension. The way Calum sort of shrugs off Ashton’s subtle embraces. The way that Ashton stares her down every time Calum is speaking to her. She also noticed how they both would roll their eyes when the other would crack a joke. 

She picks up on them quickly. Reading people as well as she does is good, hell even great when it’s in a professional setting, but detrimental when it’s in her new neighbors that she just met. 

Ashton and Calum stay until the third bottle of wine are finished and both of her parents retired for the evening. She did find it strange that they stayed to drink on the patio with her, when the host of the evening, her mother decided to call it a night. But she wasn’t complaining. She liked them. She was comfortable with them.

Maybe it was the wine, or that they seemed pretty genuine but she thought it pretty laughable that the therapist was becoming the patient as she vented about her life and lack of romance to two men she just met 4 hours ago. 

“It’s just, my best friend is having a baby, and I can’t even remember the last time I was fucked good enough to actually cum.” The words were already out of her mouth when she realized what she had said. 

Her mouth was always faster than her brain when she was tipsy, but this was the worst. Right before she was about to apologize, Ashton must’ve known what was going to come out of her mouth when he assured her everything was okay, and then he and his husband both laughed and thought it was pretty funny. Calum also noted how liked her honesty.  

 The three continued to chat when Calum asked her about her job. This question then turned into both, Ashton and Calum quizzing her on what she liked and disliked about counseling, what her thesis was, did she prefer treating adults, adolescents or children. Then Calum asked her if she ever treated couples. 

It took her a little off guard, but she played it cool and answered yes. 

Then Ashton asked the next question. A question that stunned both her and Calum:

“Would you ever consider counseling Calum and me?” 

[booksarelife-stuff]

The Story of Us- Chapter 2

Jily (James Potter/ Lily Evans), minor wolfstar

Word Count: 

Modern Muggle AU. When Lily Evans meets the man across the hall due to a fire alarm, she has no idea that a new chapter of her life has begun. Featuring a librarian Lily and sports journalist James.

Masterlist     Read on AO3  Chapter 3

Chapter 2- and the sparks fly...

Lily had found her love of libraries in secondary school. She remembers one day, specifically that started it all. 

Petunia, Lily’s tight-lipped older sister, had gotten all her friends to make fun of her in front of everyone. Lily didn’t remember what it was that day that the gaggle of girls had decided to torment Lily on. It could have been just a simple “freak” thrown her way in the hallway. 

What Lily does remember though, is finding solace in the library. She remembers running in there, looking for a private place to cry. She had sat in the back, near the reference section that was barely touched since the age of the internet. She started doing her homework there and more importantly started realizing that escaping into books was easier when she was surrounded by them. 

The library Lily now called home was an old building, untouched by the modern buildings surrounding it. It was made of stone and when you walked in, you were greeted by the musky scent of old books. 

This library had also brought more than a safe place in her adult life, but friends as well. Remus Lupin was the overseer of the adult non-fiction and reference section. Lily was convinced that man was Google. She could ask him anything about anything he’d probably have an answer. Then there was the children’s librarian from downstairs, Marlene McKinnon. Marlene was vibrant and offered great critiques of all the new teen show adaptations of young adult novels. 

Lily had finally found a home for herself. 

Lily was sitting at the circulation desk, waiting for patrons. Remus was running a workshop for homeless members of the community to get jobs and they had had a nice turn out. Lily had spent all night packing lunches for them and was yawning every five seconds. 

She was tired and she didn’t notice the man who stepped up to the desk. 

“Hey Lily,” a deep voice said. Lily’s throat filled with bile. 

She looked up to see Severus Snape, a barista from across the street at the Starbucks. Also, her sort-of-ex. 

Lily looked up and gave her customer service a smile. 

“Hello Severus,” she said. “Did you find everything you needed?” 

“Yes, I did,” he drawled. 

“Great,” she said. She reached out for his book and library card. She tried not to make a face at the book he was checking out, something about government conspiracies, and scanned his card. Lily should have been surprised that he was even here at all, especially since Lily had to deal with a lot of talks that revolved around the internet making libraries useless from him. But he showed up, like clockwork. 

“You have a late fee,” she said. “It’s only a pound.” 

Lily checked out his book while he pulled out his wallet. She marked the fee as paid as he slid the pound over the desk. Lily handed him his card and book back. 

“Due in two weeks. Have a great day,” she said, smiling. 

“I was wondering if we could talk for a second,” he asked. Lily looked up into his deep brown eyes. She really didn’t want to, but she couldn’t think of an excuse, as there weren't any other patrons. 

“About what, Severus?” she asked. 

“Have you changed your mind yet?” he asked. 

Lily mentally counted down from five in her head, trying to bite back the anger that flared inside of her. That was the thing with Severus. To him, he never did anything wrong and it was Lily that was holding the relationship back.

“No, afraid not,” she said, her tone coming out sharp. Severus’s nostrils flared a bit. 

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. 

“Is it?” she quipped. 

His eyes flashed but the door swung open, stopping whatever he was about to say. Lily’s flickered to the new patron but did a double-take. 

Standing there was James, Lily’s neighbor. He was wearing a white button up with a red tie and black slacks. The sleeves were rolled up, showing his arms again and the tie hung loosely from his neck. He had a black messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. 

He gave Lily a small and a wave. He stood behind Severus, waiting in line. Severus looked pissed off as Lily’s eyes turned back to him. 

“Is that all you need, sir?” Lily asked. 

“Yes,” Severus spat. He grabbed his book and turned sharply. He walked out of the door. 

Lily smiled widely as James stepped up to the counter. 

“Hey neighbor,” James said, running a hand through his already messy hair. 

“Hey. What brings you to the library?” she asked.

“I heard that books contain knowledge and I need a specific kind,” he said. “And a library card.”

“Let’s get you a card first,” she said. 

She learned James’s full name was James Fleamont Potter. She tried not to make a face at his middle name but James responded with a quick “yeah I know.” She learned his birthday was March 27 and that she was older than him by a few months. 

She handed him his card and a little flyer that had instructions about their app that would let him browse their online collection and place holds on books they had on the shelves. 

“So, what specific knowledge would you be needing today?” she asked. 

“Ah well, remember the professional bowling team I mentioned?” 

“The Cannons?”

“That would be it,” he said. “I need books on bowling. I know most of the rules of football and rugby, but I seem to be lacking some expertise on the intricacies of bowling.”

Lily laughed and started typing in their system. 

“And you couldn’t Google that?” 

James did a dramatic gasp that made Lily look up at him. 

“Did a librarian just say I should Google something? That’s a sort of sacrilege,” James said, his hazel eyes wide with fake horror. 

Lily laughed and turned back to her computer screen. She told him the number of the Dewey he could use to find books on bowling and he blinked at her. 

“Let me guess,” she said. “Unfamiliar with the system?”

“Yeah. And this library,” he said. 

Lily motioned for him to follow her. If Remus was available, he’d be able to go directly to the space on the shelf that contained books about bowling. It took Lily a minute to find them. She left James to browse and went back to the desk to find Marlene sitting at Lily’s portion of the desk.

“Hey Lil,” she said, stopping her spinning in her chair. 

“Hey Marls,” she said. 

“I’m on break,” she said, tossing her thick blonde hair over her shoulder. “I also have a story.”

“Do tell,” Lily said, taking her seat at the computer. 

“A girl came in with her mother looking for a book,” she began, her blues eyes turning animated. “And I would have guess she was looking for the latest John Green or something, but this girl walks up to the desk and asks point-blank ‘Do you have Gone Girl?’”

Marlene took a dramatic inhale while Lily started smiling. 

“She had to be no older than thirteen! And she wanted ‘Gone Girl!’” she exclaimed. 

“Please tell me you didn’t let her check out ‘Gone Girl’?” Lily asked. 

“Well, we aren’t in the business of judging are we?” Marlene said. “Our physical copy is checked out but I showed her how she could read it through our app.”

Lily laughed. 

“Isn’t that book the one where the wife fakes her death?” James asked. Lily spun around to see James leaning against the counter, two books sitting in front of him. 

“It is,” Marlene answered. She got up and stood next to Lily at the circulation desk. “Have you read it?”

Lily rolled her eyes as she scanned James’s card. Marlene would flirt with anything that moved, even though she had a lovely girlfriend waiting at home for her. 

“I haven’t but my brother made me watch the movie,” James replied. “I really enjoyed it.”

Marlene hummed as Lily checked out the books to James. He had gotten two books, one about the theory of bowling, which Lily didn’t think was a thing, and one of different techniques and rules. 

“Here you are,” Lily said, sliding the books back. “Please take a bookmark or two!”

“Yes please,” Marlene said. “Please don’t dog ear the pages.”

“Will do,” James said, picking up a colorful bookmark. “See you around, Lily.”

He gave her a small before turning away and walking out the door. Once he was gone, Marlene lightly hit Lily’s arm. 

“He was totally flirting with you!”

“He was not,” Lily said, though she hadn’t really thought about it to determine if he was or not. 

“‘See you around, Lily,’” Marlene quoted, her eyebrows high on her forehead. 

“He’s my neighbor.”

Marlene widened her eyes even more. 

“Since when did you get a hot neighbor? What about the old man?”

“James moved in a few weeks ago,” Lily replied. “He was the guy who brought his cat out during the fire alarm.”

Marlene started laughing. Lily had mentioned him when she saw Remus and Marlene the next day, but just focused on the cat. She didn’t tell them about their conversation. 

“Well,” Marlene said. “I need to go back. But we aren’t dropping this James conversation.”

“There really isn’t much to be said,” Lily said as Marlene started towards the stairs. She turned before she headed down giving Lily a look. 

“Then there needs to be,” she said. “He is ten steps up from Severus and I think you need to jump on that quickly.”

~~~

Lily waved at the security officer at the desk as she passed. Moody was scary looking fellow, but once Lily brought him sweets, he softened up to her. He always guarded her packages. 

She quickly got her mail and got in the elevator with a nice old woman from the third floor. The ride was silent and once Lily made it to her apartment she collapsed on her couch, throwing her bag on the floor and the mail on her coffee table. The afternoon had gotten busy for her, as the after work crowd had come in around five. Not that she was going to complain that so many people were still using the library. 

She debated ordering take-out, not feeling up to cooking but she couldn’t decide on what sounded best. She sat up and picked up her mail. It was mostly junk but she found a handwritten letter. She looked quickly at the name and realized it wasn’t hers, but was addressed to James from a Euphemia Potter. 

Lily sighed and slipped her flats back on. She didn’t know if James was home yet, but she figured she’d at least try before she forgot. She left her door open as she made her strides to his apartment door and knocked three times. 

“One sec!” she heard James call. She waited as she heard the thump of his footsteps get closer to the door. 

He opened it, smiling. He had already changed out of his work clothes and was wearing a shirt that was old and faded and his sweatpants. 

“Lily,” he said. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

Lily held out the piece of mail, returning his smile.

“This was in my box,” she said. He looked down at the letter as he took it from her, his glasses low on his nose. 

“Oh bugger,” he said. “Sorry about that. My mum seems to have put the wrong number. I’ll call and let her know she doesn’t do it again.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said. “I figured you would want a handwritten letter sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. Mum’s a bit old fashioned,” James said, smiling. He leaned against the doorframe, his hazel eyes looking directly at Lily.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Lily said, turning away. 

“Wait!” James said, causing Lily to turn back. “I was just about to start Outlander.”

“Wait, really?” she asked. She couldn’t believe that he was going to sit down and watch the show because she mentioned it to him. 

“Yeah,’ James said, running a hand through his hair. “I was just about to order some curry, too. Wanna join?”

Lily blinked and James' face quickly fell. He started babbling. 

“Not like a date or anything!” he started. “You’re just the first person I’ve really talked to since moving here and I think you’d be a, a great friend—”

“I’d love to, James,” she said, talking over his babbling. James smiled brightly. 

She told him the best curry place that delivered in town and her order. She wanted to change into something more comfortable before they started so she ran back to her apartment. 

Normally, Lily would be reserved about these kind of things, but James didn’t seem to be a threat. He had been nice enough and Marlene had always said she needed to put herself out there more. If that included eating curry while watching Outlander, she was more than happy to oblige. 

She put on some leggings and an oversized jumper. She quickly put her hair up. She grabbed her phone and keys. She was almost out the door when she remembered a tub of ice cream she had in the freezer. She ran back and grabbed it, hoping James was a fan of brownie batter. 

When she knocked, James let her in. 

“Oh, ice cream?” he asked. 

“Yep. Like brownie batter?” she asked. His eyes lit up. 

“Yes! My favorite,” he said. “Besides mint chocolate chip.”

Lily made a face. 

“Mint chocolate chip taste like bad tooth paste,” she said. 

James let out an offended noise as he took the ice cream from her and walked towards the fridge. 

“It does not!”

Lily smiled and looked around James' apartment. He had a decent sized television and a large gray sectional that looked soft. Buttercream was napping on the top of the couch, his tail flicking back and forth. 

It wasn’t really decorated, Lily noted. He had a few pictures up but the walls were bare. Lily noticed some books on his entertainment center and went and looked at them. They were mostly about sports, rules and techniques, and whatnot. Lily also noticed the books he checked out earlier on his coffee table, one of them with a bookmark already in it. 

“So,” James began entering the living room. “How much do you think I’m going to like the show?”

Lily hummed for a second. 

“I think you’ll either get really into it or you’ll be indifferent,” she said. “I don’t know you well enough to give a better judgement. I don’t think you’ll hate it though.”

“Fair enough,” he said, petting Buttercream. “I looked it up and it sounds quite interesting.”

“Are you a big fan of period pieces?” Lily asked. James glanced up at her with a smile. 

“Don’t tell my brother this,” he started. “If you ever meet him. But yes, I am.”

Lily smiled. 

“What’s your favorite?” she asked. She watched as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“My mum made me watch Pride and Prejudice so many times, I can recite the movie line by line,” he said. 

Lily felt unbridled glee. That was her favorite movie, hands down. She knew it wasn’t accurate to the book but the tension between the characters in the movie drew Lily in more than anything. 

“The 2005 movie?” she asked, her excitement showing. 

“Yep. We did watch the BBC version quite a few times though,” James said. “I love Colin Firth, but there’s just something about the movie.”

They talked excitedly about the movie, comparing the two adaptations when their food arrived. Once they had settled on the couch, take-out containers and plastic forks in hand, James went to Netflix and started Outlander. 

[boydgearloose]

A Very Long and Very Convoluted Gyro Gearloose Season 3 Theory

Hey everyone! Either by sheer impatience from the hiatus or genuine brainpower or maybe a mix of both, I’ve pieced together a really long, convoluted theory for season 3. It still has a few holes but I don’t think they’re anything that could be filled in until we have a lot more information, so I’m not too worried about that. As expected, it’s very Gyro-centric and started because I was thinking too hard about one thing in particular. I’m really not expecting anyone to read this but without further ado, let’s get to that thing first!

Who will Gyro interact with the most in season 3?

That’s the question that REALLY started to make me think.

This was a huge shock to me, especially since I thought Gyro would be interacting with Fenton the most in season 3 by what we do know. The “spoilers” made me think that it would be someone we haven’t met yet but then, it was revealed that this character has already been in the show. I started to go over the options in my head because there really aren’t many that make sense.

I don’t believe it’s a character that Gyro’s already interacted with a lot, like Fenton, Lil Bulb, Manny, Scrooge or even Huey. Frank probably would have been able to say that since it’s something we’re all expecting. Therefore, it’s either someone he’s either never interacted with or someone he’s interacted with a little but not a lot. I find it unlikely that it’s another character who already has prior commitments in season 3 (Gandra has Fenton, Beakley has Black Heron, etc.) and I doubt it’s any of the kids if it’s not Huey because Frank said Gyro gets along with Huey the best.

It could be Della but while I would love to see her interact with Gyro, I doubt they’d interact more than him and Fenton. Same with Fethry. I’ve seen Ludwig brought up since him and Gyro are both scientists and that would also be great, but I’m not sure how that would work out. I know Ludwig could be alive but I feel like he’s much more connected to the Scrooge and Beakley FOWL arc than to Gyro. There’s also Bradford and the other FOWL agents we’ve met so far. However, like Ludwig, I feel like they’re already all accounted for. Bradford is Scrooge’s villain, Steelbeak is likely a Darkwing villain, Rockerduck and Jeeves are also Scrooge villains (maybe Goldie or even Glomgold) and Black Heron is a Beakley villain. The only one not accounted for so far is Phantom Blot, but I find it more likely that he’ll be paired with someone like Duckworth (given the whole “blot out phantoms” thing Frank talked about) or even Goofy, which I see as the most likely for him but that’s another theory post to be made.

Then who is it?

Unfortunately, many won’t really like the answer I’ve come up with and I’m concerned about it too as this post will explain but it seems to be the most likely. Gyro will probably interact with Mark Beaks the most in season 3. Out of all the characters, he’s the only one that fits everything. He’s had ties to Gyro before but not enough for the answer to not be a spoiler, it wouldn’t be super out of left field for them to have a lot of interaction and Mark doesn’t really have any prior commitments that aren’t tied to Gyro. There’s Fenton, sure, but Frank said he interacts with Darkwing and Gandra the most so it almost seems like Mark’s taking a backburner when it comes to him (thank god honestly).

Upon this realization, I began to reflect on something Frank said a while back that we haven’t really seen a lot of.

Of course, Mark is a Gizmoduck villain. But why was Gyro specified here? I wouldn’t call Mark a Gyro villain at this point in the show, yet it seems to be implied that he’s just as much of a villain to Gyro as he is to Gizmoduck. Then I started wondering if this might refer to stuff we haven’t seen yet.

Something Frank said in the #RewriteHistory thread kind of points toward this as well. He called Mark’s rivalry with Fenton a “happy accident,” meaning that it wasn’t something that was planned initially and that he’d expand on that later.

The thread hasn’t gotten to Dangerous Chemistry yet, but there hasn’t even been anything of the sort about how that happened in the rundowns for BUDDY System and Who Is Gizmoduck so I honestly believe the “later” here means after season 3 or at least certain episodes. In that case, if Mark wasn’t meant to be a Gizmoduck villain, then why was he created in the first place? He’s 100% a Ducktales original and doesn’t really serve much of a purpose right now outside of his rivalry with Gizmoduck. Therefore, I believe he was initially created to rival Gyro.

Also, Mark has been tied to Gyro in some pretty interesting ways. There was the part in Glomtales, while I know it was mostly a joke, where he was eager to fight Gyro. And it really wouldn’t have been that hard to have them interact in the episode. So why wasn’t Gyro there? Could it be building up to more? It’s also worth noting that Mark’s technology only works when it’s linked up to something Gyro created. We saw this with BUDDY, the thing he put on the Gizmoduck suit, his app for hacking Gyro’s security system and possibly even Boyd which Frank said would also be explored in season 3. Of course, this could be from the stolen blueprints he got from the message board but I think it’s still worth noting.

So, how do they interact in season 3? That’s what I’m here to explain.

Gyro’s Treatment of Fenton

One big thing that Frank has hinted at being explained in the future is why Gyro treats Fenton the way he does.

This hasn’t been explored at all but seeing that Gyro is getting focus this season, I think it’s finally time. I’ve always wondered exactly what his problems with Fenton were because there seems to be a lot more there than just annoyance. For starters, Gyro is very sensitive to having his information stolen or tampered with by anyone, especially Fenton. We see this a lot in BUDDY System and Who Is Gizmoduck when Fenton tries to use the Gizmoduck armor. He even wanted to destroy the Gizmoduck armor entirely, something he worked VERY hard on, just so it wouldn’t “fall into the wrong hands.” This is definitely a reaction based on experience.

Speaking of BUDDY System, he seems to have an idea that Mark is using his tech right off the bat. As soon as Dewey tells him that Mark made BUDDY, he reacts with a lot of rage and confusion. Fenton mentions that Gyro has been stressed trying to figure out how Mark beat him to the self-driving car. He also showed up to the presentation even though he wasn’t invited. Plus, Mark made that one cut-out of him. You know the one. These two are very familiar with each other.

Gyro also seems to dislike having an intern. This could be brushed off as him just not being a people person but paired with everything else, I think it’s worth noting. Putting this all together, it seems as if he had a bad experience with both having his technology stolen and having an assistant.

Remember FOWL Gyro?

Yeah, that one theory my friend @bluebiirdys​ came up with and I wrote out a long time ago that got insanely popular. I want to bring it up for a bit and talk about how it connects to this as well. If any of the season 1 villains have ties to FOWL, it’s Mark. His relationship with Gandra seemed very familiar. Although she doesn’t like him (who would?), their interactions really felt like they know each other past her using him for funding and resources. He also referred to her as “Agent D,” which feels like an inside name. And when Gandra claims she was only using him, she pauses beforehand and seems unsure of what she’s about to say. Seeing that she hid a lot of things from Fenton and made up other stuff in that scene, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she also hid how she knows Mark. Also, Mark wouldn’t have been able to hire an agent if he didn’t have some kind of ties to FOWL itself. They’re a super lowkey organization that I feel like a lot of people aren’t aware of.

While I don’t feel like Mark is really an agent in the same way that Gandra is, he definitely works for or alongside FOWL and probably has been doing so for a long time. There’s a big chance that they could be the reason why he’s so popular and maintains that despite literally everything awful he does. Frank even said he’s not still rich, so where is he getting the money to keep his company going? Waddle itself could be some kind of inside job but again, that feels like a theory for another day. This is about Gyro.

If Gyro worked for FOWL and Mark is currently working for FOWL, they could have very well known each other during his time there. Frank said that Gyro is younger than Donald and Della, who are both confirmed to be 36. If we’re going off of what’s presumed to be his birth year in Mark’s username, Mark would currently be 30. This means that Gyro is rather close to his age, maybe one or two years older. They very well could have known each other. And I can’t see Mark being that much older than Fenton. Therefore, they probably have about the same age difference.

This brings us to the main point of this post: I believe that Mark was Gyro’s assistant when he worked at FOWL and betrayed him during their time together. How does this work? Well, I have a small idea. Again, this does have a few holes in it that can’t be filled until we have a lot more information on season 3, but I’ve come up with a bare minimum.

I still feel like Gyro worked for FOWL pretty much his whole life. While he definitely had mentors there, it was never a very loving environment for him. Therefore, he’s been pretty starved for any kind of friendship and isolated. Similarly, Mark was probably a total loser at this age and also didn’t grow up in a good environment by what we’ve seen, including these asks.

Plus, we all know about the “Coach Dad” thing. If Mark’s home life was really that bad, I can see him running away at a young age, maybe around 18. He is a very impulsive person so this wouldn’t be out of character. Going off of what we know about Gandra, it seems that FOWL tries to recruit younger people with an interest in inventing who feel misunderstood. Mark is this to a T. He would definitely join FOWL in a heartbeat.

Since he would have been relatively young, he probably would have been assigned to help someone else. That someone could be slightly older by a year or two and a person who has worked there for a long time. Gyro would be the perfect fit. And going off of what we do know about Mark, I can imagine a younger and not-as-awful-yet version of him being similar to Fenton: overly talkative, into everything Gyro is doing, enthusiastic, etc. This could be where Gyro’s distaste of Fenton comes from.

Mark also shares some common ground with Gyro in a way that I can easily see them hitting it off. He’d be the first person Gyro would really have a chance to connect with, someone to share his work with and just talk to. On the other side, Gyro is the first person to give Mark his undivided attention and make him feel wanted. They would probably form a pretty closely knit friendship. Then, what happened? What would ruin such a bond? If you don’t know the answer already, it’s definitely Mark’s arrogance and need for attention.

His greatest downfall throughout the series has been how badly he needs attention from other people to thrive. Frank has even hinted that he’ll never be satisfied until he has some kind of place in the spotlight.

Therefore, Gyro had to make him feel lesser and divert his attention to something else. That something else could be a big project that he was assigned to work on. The more he works on this, the less time he has to spend with Mark who now considers him a very close friend. This makes Mark feel like he isn’t getting enough attention and in turn, he starts to secretly resent Gyro and realize that he has a much higher status than him at FOWL. He will start to long to move up in rank more than he will long for Gyro’s attention. Like Frank said, nothing can fill his needs for long and he always wants more.

So what would Gyro be working on during this? Well, FOWL does seem to have some pretty sinister plans for this season. It’s likely they could have assigned Gyro to make some sort of doomsday device that would cause destruction so large and awful, that a big part of Duckburg or even the planet would be destroyed. I’m not sure if it’s related but see my very small and poorly put-together Chaos God theory. It could be something to do with that, but for now we’ll just refer to it as the “doomsday device.”

Gyro doesn’t really know exactly what he’s making or at least doesn’t understand the consequences of it fully until one day when he overhears the higher-ups discussing something about it. This terrifies him and really makes him realize what’s going to happen if he finishes building this thing. In a panic, Gyro will decide to defect from FOWL. He wants to run away and leave no trace of himself there and make his own life somewhere else, finding a mundane inventing job that won’t have him invent something that could wipe out the entire world. However, he’s not going to leave his close friend behind. Gyro confides in Mark about everything he knows as well as his plans, wanting him to go with him. Mark agrees that they’ll leave in a few days and everything seems as okay as it can be…that is, until Gyro wakes up the next morning to find that Mark ratted his plans out to the higher-ups because he knew it would get him Gyro’s status in FOWL since he’s his assistant.

Devastated and hurt and in so much danger, Gyro manages to run away on his own and escape. He also manages to take a vital part of the machine that he created with him, hoping that it will stop them from going forth with whatever destruction they planned to cause. After fleeing, Gyro finds Scrooge, gets hired by him, everything goes as normal. But he always has that one part of the machine hidden away somewhere in his lab and wonders if anyone will ever try to steal it. He starts to get suspicious when he sees how popular Mark is becoming, yet knows he can’t say anything to anyone or else it’ll be known that he created this awful thing. Gyro lives in fear of Mark telling everyone too, especially since he has such a high following or worse, coming after the part of the machine that he took with him. But for now, he’s safe…

Nah. Of course he isn’t. That machine’s definitely gonna come back in season 3 if all of this is true, let’s be real. Frank called the Gyro episode in season 3 massive.

That means it’s going to affect more than just Gyro. So how?

Let’s go back for a bit to Dangerous Chemistry. There’s a big part of it that remains vague to this day: what exactly were Gandra and Mark planning to do? MegaBeaks wasn’t supposed to happen. Mark was only supposed to get a little jacked but even then, he wouldn’t have been able to have that much power over Fenton. Plus, Gandra was pissed when he hulked out, tried to kill Fenton and ran away with the kids yet she still seemed determine to let him get away, shocking Gizmoduck so he could continue as if it were part of the plan all along. She also got rid of Gyro. Funny how he was unconscious throughout the entire episode, as if him being there and fully aware of what was going on would have caused a plot hole. As mentioned in the Gyro FOWL theory post, he seemed to know what was going on too but couldn’t outright say so without telling people his secret.

My main confusion comes from what Gandra says while shocking MegaBeaks near the end of the episode about how hurting Fenton wasn’t part of their plan. If they wanted to steal the Gizmoduck suit, then wouldn’t they have to hurt Fenton? How could they have possibly gotten away with it without doing that? When you really look at it, the plan doesn’t seem to be about Gizmoduck at all. Instead, Gandra wanted to distract Gizmoduck, not hurt him. Mark just got power hungry and basically ruined everything.

Then what was the plan? Well, another thing worth noting is that Gandra knew the lab she was going to. If she knew Mark and his information on Fenton, she knew it wasn’t his lab but Gyro’s instead. She also wanted Fenton to show her everything in the lab and kept urging him to show her his work. It really seemed like she was looking for something and trying to get as much information about where that thing was until her and Mark were able to get both Gyro and Fenton out of the picture. There was also the moment where she peaked under the lampshade to get a look at Lil Bulb, which was very cute but also more proof of her checking out every inch of Gyro’s lab and technology.

Gandra was there for something but we don’t know what. It could very well be the part of the machine that Gyro created while he was at FOWL. They’re planning to reactivate it in order to stop the McDuck family once and for all. They just need that one piece. As Frank said, Bradford has been plotting for a long time and now, he’s finally going into action to put together his final plan.

So…will they get it?

This is very up in the air but I will give you my two cents. Since Frank described the Gyro episode as massive, I’m expecting something related to the overall plot in it as well as his backstory. The plot of season 3 is definitely related to FOWL, as well all know. Therefore, I think they’re going to get the piece he has back in that episode, completing all they need to activate the machine. But…how?

Let’s go back to how Gyro treats Fenton. Assuming that he does this because he reminds him of his past experiences with Mark, it’s clear that Gyro feels guilt over what happened. He probably feels like he failed Mark despite everything and part of him wants to reach out again. It’s really hard to watch your first friend turn into such an awful person and Gyro knows more about Mark than literally anyone else, probably some pretty upsetting stuff that makes him want to fix everything he thinks he caused.

That being said, Mark is very good at manipulation. Let’s say Gyro had a chance to reach out to his old assistant, someone he feels like he’s wronged, one more time and let him know how wonderful it feels to be free of FOWL and to have a family and make him understand that he’s being used, bound to face the same consequences as the ones FOWL are against once they’re done with their plans. For a second, it looks like Mark is listening to him…but he’s not going to change. He’s way too far gone and it’s not Gyro’s fault at all. But I don’t think Gyro will ever realize this until the part of the machine is in Mark’s hands. I wouldn’t be surprised if he used him one last time to get what he needed for what he sees as positive attention.

Wow, this got long. Anyway, that’s about all I have so far. I’m sure I’ll think of a lot of other stuff before season 3 actually airs and if I have another realization, I’ll probably add onto this. But this is enough. I hope you all enjoyed reading this (if anyone even did LOL) and have it be known that this will be all I’m able to think about until the hiatus ends.

[consavanarola]

Beauty and the bigfoot

Across the north American continent span the great majestic Canadian Rocky mountains. A primordial structure that came from deep within our planet’s body. Imperial and proud yet largely untouched these mountains have been here from our planet’s beginning. It is precisely there that Stephanie chose to escape to for a two year break from life.

This life of: year in, year out, work work work, summer in – summer out, annual performance review, meetings, stress for bank accounts and an endless line of people she would – out of respect for the human race – prefer to not categorize. “Well paid plebs” is what she would call them. Day in – day out they followed orders from their manager-master and then go home to drink wine while once a week they had the chance to watch a bloody spectacle on the Colosseum Version 2019, known also as Netflix. The entire process subsidised by one of the central banks.

This life was not for her and rebellion needed to be much more than simply hunching a hoody and running around a park listening to rap music. Which of course she would never do as Stephanie was above all a well fashioned elegant life-perfectionist.

University had been a great time for Stephanie as it was then that she discovered music and her love for nature but that next step into the so called “corporate world” led her straight to the development of intellectual disgust for modern living. Her reaction was so natural that to her this was part of her thought structure. It started from her inability to adequately answer simple questions like “what is this all about?” or “why is this person  on this planet?”

She wanted more. But the instructions manual didn’t have a section on “more”. It surely had 20 pages about “more wine” and 50 about “more work” but nothing about “more life”. Love, or at least what the terms & conditions of app called love, popped in every now and then but she never loved the person love proposed. She loved “love” as a verb and human activity and did believe truly in its greater purpose but the person, the man was never what she loved. Most men seemed to be the packaging of love and no matter how many layers she hurriedly  unwrap, no matter how many weekends in Barcelona she’d spend with a man … she never found love. Stephanie was wholeheartedly in great need to both escape from this world and also to find greatness, two distinct needs with overlapping purpose.

An eye-catching Lufthansa magazine article during one of her business trips to Frankfurt, laced with German pragmatism, explained it all to her. The title was “Banff – escape inside the natural you” ‘their translation department needs some help’ she told herself. Capital of Alberta Canada, according to the article Banff was a paradise nested within the Canadian Rockies, a place of beauty, nature and free spirit. Before the air-waiters could serve those chemically grown jam filled plum cakes, Stephanie was already well into her feasibility analysis. ‘It’s either this or getting a large dog and naming it Lucifer, so it’s this, so Yes my dearest you can do this, do it’ she negotiated internally. Three months and a resignation letter later there she was in Banff Alberta Canada modern living’s latest self-exile.

She had a great set-up for this new life of hers. Work four days a week at the local Hilton as a restaurant connoisseur cause per local standards she knew everything about European wines and then for three days she was free to go on trekking trips. An endlessness of green and imposing natural structures all there for her mind and body to indulge in. She believed that, as for people, so also for trees there exists a sense of uniqueness. As if each tree somehow knows that it is one and different to the others, it was this concept that drove her at times to simply stand next to a tree and observe its every detail in search of what makes it different to the others. She spent full minutes standing next to trees comparing their dimensions versus her own body, moving in strange ways to better gauge the trunk’s diameter or form. She would whisper “spectacular” to herself at least three times a week and truly meaning it.

I was June, the greatest of all months for women and something inside Stephanie knew this. Was it Juno’s hand reaching down from Olympus or simply the army of wild flowers all cheerful to see her as chance would take her path by them? When close to nature  many random events at a microbial level all accumulate and trigger the various biologies of our inner workings. Stephanie was unknowingly June’s hostage and one Friday, her yes day, she set off for her trek. Local fashion implied jean shorts, white knee socks, strong trekking boots and a red Abercrombie $15 t-shirt. She decided to leave the town from the side where the river passes nearest and where the caves are. Off she went.

At some point after one of her tree merging sessions she walked onto a wild flowered knoll with no shade where she heard a whistle. There a tuned whistle with detailed sonority stopped her. Startled she stood to observe and grasp what was happening ‘just another trekker’ she reassured herself but her answered did not suffice. ‘right here, right now? To me in these mountains? What are the odds that I hear such a strange tune?’ … she stood for 30 seconds and heard the tune take distance. ‘I came here for the mountains and the trees, not some whistle’ she shrugged this disruption away and disregard this intrusion. She was here for herself and for nature … no distractions. Her trek went on as planned.

Monday soon came and it was dinner time at the hotel restaurant where nothing out of the ordinary was happening until from the lobby came that whistle once again. This was her work place so Stephanie’s personal standards could take second stage, ‘disruption at work is a job issue’ she told herself and raced to see what had tickled her ear three days ago on that flowery hill. Through the disdain hotel lobby ornaments she safaried and pushed aside the Drömsk Ikea floor lamb to uncover the last thing she would ever expect to see in the Canadian mountains, a pirate. Not a real pirate on a ship in the Caribbean but a man who at first glanced could not be called anything but a pirate. His hair was scruffy brown and so was his skin which, beyond being mildly done by the sun, also had that veneer of adventurous dryness that prolonged exposure to the sun and sea salt leaves behind. Above all his eyes had a deep middle-eastern look with carbon powdered eyes. She kept her hand on the Drömsk and told herself to turn away as he was beginning to turn his head in her direction and a man was not this evening’s menu.

That was something unexpected she said to herself as she marched back to her post at the restaurant where customers sat expecting her to treat them with that safe and reliable Trustpilot verified Hilton love they paid $200 a night for. Stephanie naturally made people smile, it was part of her instinctive blueprint. She had short brown hair which defused any fear of aggression or over sexuality and this made everyone want to be her friend immediately. After 19 responsibly sourced rump steaks with farm grown fries things started to die down as it was nearly one hour to midnight. Suddenly the pirate came inside and went straight to the bar. Dark jeans and a light red turtle neck he walked slowly but with firm steps. ‘who wears a turtle neck in June?’ she perplexed.

“Hey Tom, could you go do a turn in the cellar for me, I’ll take over here” she told the bartender who with a half-smile and look went off. Manning the bar herself she was there standing face to face with this … cold mountain pirate. He was jittery and started fidgeting with the menu while examining the bottles behind Stephanie. One of his eyes was also looking at her body, mid height between the bottles and she was asking herself why? ‘I’m not on the menu mate’ she confirmed to herself. She took a glass and in pure bartender fashion started polishing it with a white cotton hand towel, to which he reacted by jumping five centimetres up and glimpsing at the bottles with overstatement then sat back down and sunk his nose back into the menu. She was formulating a plan to say something but before she could enact he spoke.

“you’re the bartender aren’t you? You’re here right?” he said with a fidgety tone.

“I am certainly here” she smiled back while inside she said ‘I know this man, he is lost, he came here to escape the world where he was successful but couldn’t find something truly worthwhile, now he is here at the edge of the world seeking refuge, yes, I know this man perfectly’

He looked at her directly, stopped moving about and smiled. He held the smile for a full three seconds then leaned deeply into the bar towards her saying “Are you a good bartender?”

“what?” she choked

“well you say you’re here and … well so am I but should we be here? I mean I know I’m a great customer but are you a good bartender?” he asked with a slow confident tone that she found basically inappropriate.

After two seconds of cold silence and a dry stare in his face she said, “What’ll it be partner?” trying to establish some ground rules and place this whole scenario where it belonged the standard saloon of a frontier outpost town where she was the boss.

He had failed at something, this was clear to her but she would never find out what. He stopped looking at her and went back into the menu, “I think every drink is perfect for the right occasion and I’m trying to figure out what this occasion is … I … I … I guess I’m kinda lost” …

Inside herself was triumph ‘I knew it, I know this man, he IS lost, weird, a bit too weird but weird with great eyes is actually great and … well either way I knew he was lost, I rock’ she declared.

… “What would you recommend?” he asked her.

“I’d say you’re a whiskey man, we’ve got some great Canadians, aged of course” She proudly sold.

“makes you fat” he snapped back.

‘he cares about his weight, I can’t tell what his body is like while he is sitting down but this is a good sign’ she debated internally as she smiled in agreement with his comment and found his eyes asking her to look a bit deeper. She wanted to of course and then nearly roused on herself with ‘wake up Stephanie, leave the eyes cause you are not  falling for this guy. You came to Banff for you not some fidgety arrogant pirate’. She had to reply fast or else he’d notice something was going on and plus an answer would help her better manage the temptation to look at her eyes. What should she say? She opted for all-out attack, the only good defence:

“Hey, there’s a great wine bar two blocks down the road with a great collection of Bordeaux” she said firmly and with a simile of victory.

He looked at her and smiled, then looked out the window.

‘this guy’s good’ she thought.

He replied with “It’s never nice to drink far from home when you’re drinking alone, so I’ll stay here and … do what you tell me to” launching a deeper than manageable stare into her eyes.

Emotionally perilous music now sounded in her brain which was packing up and getting ready to check out for the evening. Yes, that’s what brains do, they leave you along just before midnight in outpost towns just after you meet a pirate with deep brown eyes. Juno wasn’t helping either as every time the lobby door opened the early summer night breeze sent aromas to her nose.

‘do your job’ she slapped herself and asked him “Whiskey it is then, on the rocks?”

“I thought you said it was good whiskey”,

“The best”,

“Then why would I dilute it with water? You see water is a universal constant of sorts, it turns everything back into the original essence of life, I want some whiskey, if it’s good then bring it to me straight up” he explained

‘a brain too’ she told herself feeling now that this was actually becoming a thing. ‘If he smiles to me one more time I’m leaving with Brain’ she promised herself as she prepared his drink. His New York accent was reassuring and added only to what she was finding great about this guy, eyes above all and now a brain. Yet still this man uncalled for in this exotic mountain paradise Stephanie had chosen to escape to. She was trying to condemn this act of piracy into her world but wanted more and more to keep the sails full canvased. She poured his 24 years old Canadian whiskey and tried to tell him she was not available with a simple and firm “Enjoy” as she looked away.

“Oh I’m enjoying it already, listen since we’re going to be friends you might as well tell me your name. I’m David, I’m from New Jersey. What’s your name?” he said with happiness and accomplishment in his voice.

‘to be a woman or not to be’ she asked herself and thus decided ‘ok, let’s see where these eyes will take me. Brain has left so there won’t be any witnesses tonight’.

“I’m Stephanie, I’m from London, here on a … kind of a gap year, pleased to meet you” she curtsied.

He sipped the whiskey with savour and went on “Gap year? That sounds great, so what? you work all day and then go mountain hiking or bear hunting or something?” laughing mildly to continue this connection.

Stephanie regrouped inside herself for an emergency all directors meeting: how can he know so much? Am I that obvious? Perhaps I am just that but then he is the lost one who needs my guidance not the other way around, didn’t this man get the e-mail?. Am I just here for his eyes and smart cracks? Oh my god I need to tell this guy to “f” off cause this is my place and out here I am not only the queen I’m the king, the bishop, the aristocracy and three witches hiding in the swamp. There are no more openings. Sure I will one day fall in love with my dream man but I haven’t started this project yet. I need to shut him up once and for all.

So she opted to change the topic from them to something neutral, and said “I guess you could say that but … Banff is very beautiful, and the weather this time is great, have you done any trekking?”

He showed irritation to her manoeuvre and she loved that. This stranger here in front of her at a bar was actually dictating terms on her emotions. On top of all that he was beautiful and in a way that only an ocean and the sun could be. With brain checked out she feared that soon her heartbeat would be out of her control. ‘this is supposed to be just another Monday’ she screamed to herself.

He sipped more of the whiskey and … suddenly Tom came back from the cellar, it felt to her like he had gone a month ago. Tom, who knew Stephanie well, looked at her. She looked back with a straight square and intent face and he smiled back and left. She did think for an eternity whether to send him off or have him take over at the bar thus allowing an escape from this captive pirate. An eternity for Stephanie lasts precisely one tenth of a second. ‘Leave us Tom, it’s late and well … David needs to drink some whiskey, I won’t tell you anything about it in the morning’ she told herself.

“Actually, I have a confession to make”, Davide replied and her heart winked upwards to where brain should have been, “I have been doing some trekking but not for the beauty of the mountains …”

“Oh?”

“… yeah well, and here comes the confession, I believe in bigfoot and well I’m here to see if I can find one, there now you think I’m crazy” ending with a small nod and smile as he looked sideward then stared right at her.

Stephanie sends out a square smile that initially wanted to pop and said “That’s … that’s the cutest thing I’ve heard anybody say in months” she said with positivity.

“You don’t think that sounds crazy? I mean too crazy?” David said like a six year-old.

“No!” she said with a triple o “I mean it, that’s super cute, I wish more people would follow their dreams and do what they really want every now and then. This is exactly what the world needs”

“You know I couldn’t agree more, the world is filled with people who are boring and that’s not the problem but the result, the problem is that they want to be boring. It’s over for 99% of them, just going from one step to the next, just like their parent said they would …”

“Yeah ... “ concurred Stephanie

“… I mean I get that there are some standard things we human beings simply must do like sell something to make money, eat, sleep although even sleeping isn’t as necessary as people think … but anyway … I mean in the end once every six months you need to go do something totally unexpected, something that only your heart would ever think of doing” David concluded.

They looked at each other with two smiles and two prolonged nods between them. “Yeah” said Stephanie to break the silence which wasn’t a problem but she just wanted to reaffirm her consent to his thesis one more time.

“I’m gonna –pause– get another whiskey here” said David. She paused too and looked at him on purpose for the 100th time in the last hour, now she looked at herself and asked: is this person in front of me part the wild and natural landscape I escaped to? Am I in control or not of what is going on here? Why is this man with these deep brown eyes confessing to me, why is he feeling like a schoolboy and showing it? What card have I picked up from the board game?

She had so many questions in her mind all of which could wait for this one mega question - “how long will he be staying in Banff?” A question of pivotal importance and probably the most difficult question ever but not because it’s hard to answer rather … because it’s impossible to ask.

She snapped out of it and ask him “Another whiskey? Sure. Where? Here you said? Of course sure, ha ha where else?”

David crossed his eyebrows as if he was thinking but all she could see was a new version of his dark smuggling eyes. This man was doing something to her no one had ever done before, he was creating questions about existence and self-nature for her to answer rather than overflow her with tangible constructions about the world she so easily left behind. She wanted some whiskey too but couldn’t drink there as she was on duty. She wanted to know this guy, she wanted to meet him, she wanted. It was worthwhile and this was her escape year. This could be one small step for her but one giant leap for her womanhood so she did it. She proposed to him.

“Hey I should be getting off here about now, it’s midnight and we’re actually closed, we could go to that wine bar down I told you about and get a last drink”

Wow, she has been upfront with men before but never when the man was so sober. This was it, her river card, her final bet, her last fig leaf. After tonight it would be a triumph and a series on Netflix about how cool she is or Stephanie would become the first person to escape to the mountains to then get so embarrassed that she needed to escape even further.

“Stephanie I’m just gonna say one thing: I like how you tick and I certainly like how you think. I’ll let you wrap up here and meet you there, alright?” He pronounced with a smile.

Wow again she thought to herself, he not only didn’t over indulge and invite me to his room he actually gave me some space and time to put some make up on. This guy is either good or he is god and only one “o” is going to make that difference. “Sure thing, see you there” she replied and started closing up the bar as he went off.

It was past midnight now and Banff was well asleep, even the wind was slumbering. Her plan was simple, close the bar, lock up the fridges then go to the hotel employee bathroom where, she had been told by one the female staff that the girls kept a “just in case” kit which should have everything a girl needs in an emergency like this. Stephanie was confident that she would find Gucci mascara, Dior eyeliners, a set of Victoria’s Secret lingerie – not too forthcoming but enough to make a bang – and of course the essential Channel Number 5. She opened it like the pit of a nuclear test site and was confronted by a “no means yes” red lipstick, an eyeliner gifted in some magazine and a six year old of pack of ribbed condoms. Hesitation didn’t stand a chance as the eyeliner was drier than death and the condoms had both expired a year ago and well, using ribbed in her mind was basically like saying “I’m gonna need all the help I can get” which was, luckily, the farthest from where she was. So she muttered “fcuk” then “great” and then picked up the lipstick as her contribution to one stand history. All this for this man she’d just met.

The longest walk ensued to the wine bar during which Stephanie successfully figured out everything about her life. Yes, it was all so simple, you see up until now everything was just a test to see if she could survive and endure it all, now was when real life actually starts. Now when she was destined to meet Davide. A man who like her was subconsciously seeking her out, sure she wasn’t bigfoot but she was definitely worthy of being called a mythical creature, so that is that. From now on everything was going to be about accomplishment, kids, a house and a summer house.

She arrived in 15 minutes and found him standing outside with a bottle in one hand two wine glasses in the other and his back leaning against the dark windows of the wine bar.

Only one thought was allowed into her mind as she saw him for the first time fully standing ‘now that is a body’.

He leaned forward after his eyes did and said “Great to see you”

“yeah, thanks, it’s closed” she replied.

“yeah when I got here a guy called Mario was locking up, said it was Monday and this is Banff” said David

“sounds about right” smiled Stephanie who was wondering if aliens could right about now come and abduct them both to their planet where they would subdue the two of them through some mating regime until they could breed the perfect human.

Davide jumped in “I tried to bribe him to stay open for another hour but no luck, I told him I met you and really wanted to get to know you better and … well I told him about you, in the end I thought I’d take a chance and buy a bottle … ”

They both smiled for 2 seconds, David continued “… and I got two great wine glasses cause good wine in the wrong glass is … unacceptable … anyway I thought I’d take the change to ask you to continue our evening somewhere … anywhere your place, my room …”

They both smiled again for 2 seconds, she looked upwards to the stars “… or even the hills out here, somewhere you know. I thought … if she says no at least I end up with a great bottle of red”

Stephanie knew she had to say something but she couldn’t stop feeling good about the fact that he had already spoken about her to other people, ‘he is already talking about me to people’ she kept telling herself. But what was to come next? Her house was out of the question cause a woman’s house is like the bat cave to Batman, Transylvania to Dracula and the Library of congress all rolled into one – there is only one way to get in and that’s with a one way ticket.

She walked closely to him, well in range of a kiss and paused. He didn’t, so she did the next best thing – while maintaining pornographic eye contact she slowly extended her hand to his waist and in her hands firmly grasped … the bottle to examine it.

“Chateau Gazin Pomerol 2011?” she whispered to this pirate who in the mountain night and summer breeze was nearly trembling in awe and emotion from her movements, “wow, this is a great wine you know?, way too great to let a whiskey man enjoy alone. – pause – ok David … let’s go to your room”

He laughed just to get out of the risk of a too early kiss or even worse some surprise erection and followed her lead as she smiled and turned away to walk back to the hotel.

‘why did he not take this chance to kiss me’ Stephanie pleaded to herself. ‘I was there, he was there, I had just told him I’d go to his room, I mean what does this guy need? An email from his boss? Com’on David, lips speak louder than eyes’

But for now that was fine as she knew that in reality so much progress had been made for the cause of love and in such little time. Stephanie knew she already deserved a medal or at least an honorary mention in the next romantic comedy to hit the screen. Now she had much bigger things to worry about like this high-risk long walk back to the room not to mention the imminent moment of truth to come – her denudation. That moment where every woman puts everything at risk, lights a fire in her hand, detonates the nuclear weapon in her brain and as Juno would say – transforms her physical body into a temple for fanatical and unpredictable religious practices.

‘Get your ass to his room before worrying about how it will get to Mars’ she boldly told herself and turned to follow Davide.

If sex is a crucifixion, and it is for the messiah inside all of us, then getting to the bedroom is the procession to Calvary. The short yet endless path through the holy city to where flesh is to be thrashed, sins forgiven and gods created. For Stephanie this was going to be here, through downtown Banff in the middle of the summer night.

Stephanie always believed that the way a man walks next to a woman is the most telling sign of his true feelings for her. All she could remember from “When Harry met Sally” was the walk scenes she would see and re-see over and over again, observing and interrupting each motion to see what it tells or tries to hide. Here she was walking with a man to a room.

She ensured that Davide was at least one metre ahead so she could look at his body from safety and while it seemed to work at first, slowly she noticed that he was not maintaining a stable speed. Perhaps he too wanted to check her out, as they say. They were competing for the view of each other.

‘Our first fight’ she smiled to herself, ‘game on, I’ll beat a pirate on a mountain any day’

“So tell me about bigfoot, I mean …” she started a fresh new conversation while discovering her competitive side and engaging in a prancing game. For ten seconds she would increase her speed and then miss a step in alternation. While keeping one eye and half a smile on him and other on his body when he was comfortably in front of her.

Davide laughed mechanically “it’s a thing, it’s a real thing. I mean I guess this has to do with who I am deep down, you see I don’t believe in anything except that believing in things is good. So I don’t believe in god but I want there to be a bigfoot … and a giant squid … and vampires too. Tell me when I’ve freaked you out enough”

“No no, please go on” – she was loving this so much. In her mind prancing in the Canadian Rockies whilst listening to a pirate she was planning to sleep with was talk about bigfoot was the epitome of her existence on this planet so far.

“you’re not making fun of me?” he asked

“Do you think I would make fun of a man holding a bottle of wine that was leading me to his hotel room?” she replied with indulging irony.

David didn’t know what she was doing but it was working like a witchcraft. The motility in her feet was driving him crazy and he want to it stop like an itch but couldn’t due to the fact that he was holding the wine and of course was still in the oat zone. Stephanie had defined oat zone as Only Accidentally Touching which she invented in a meeting once when a colleague of hers was trying to touch her using accidental trips and imaginary obstacles that would push his body briefly onto hers.

He went on “Well that it surely a logical explanation, but the fact that you’re still here is proof enough for me”

Feeling on top of everything she provoked with “maybe I’m just here for the wine”

“you’re not here for the wine” he said with a dry tone of conviction.

“I’m not? How do you know?”

“cause if you were you’d know enough about wine to know that this wine will need at least 5 hours to breath” he replied proudly.

“Whoa ! you know about wine now? I thought you were a whiskey man.” She had to snap back

“Do you wanna find out about bigfoot or do you want to talk about the wine we’re going to drink” he replied with calm.

She stopped herself and him, turned to him and put her hands on the sides of his shoulders. She looked at him straight and said “I want to hear so much about bigfoot that I’m seriously thinking of adopting one” and laughed. She did this for two main reasons firstly to steer clear from any confrontation but mainly to declare that touching is now officially an option.

‘when will he realise that we’ve left the oat zone?’ was now her question.

He laughed through retracting lips and said “I try to avoid absolute affirmations but can say something here to you?” he stopped and looked at her. She paused and gasped “sss- yeah”

“You are a special human being Stephanie from London … in several ways”

She wasn’t officially in love but the e-mail confirmation was by now surely in the server’s outbox. Should be in her inbox in a minute. She needed to hide this as much as possible but she couldn’t so instead she thought to transform it into something official. She looked at him again and simply said “That’s so nice, I really appreciate it.”

Smile from David.

Smile back and “Now tell me about bigfoot, com’on you’ve got less than 5 minutes, the hotel is on the next block”

He continues “well like I was saying I want to believe in things so I chose the things to believe in and I do it, I believe in them, bigfoot is one of my choices, that’s basically it”

Stephanie – “So you’ve never seen one or something it’s just a choice?”

“Yeah, I mean there is some science behind bigfoots that they are some primate that evolved on its own in high altitude environments around the world. It’s a highly plausible possibility, it’s not like unicorns or ..”

“Keep unicorns out this ok” she said with a childish seriousness

He laughed strongly “That’s so cute”

“No really I love unicorns and I won’t mess with your bigfoots if you don’t touch my unicorns” maintaining her tone to that of a concerned three year old girl at the zoo.

“ok ok hey that sounds fair to me” he went on “So that I mean I don’t so much about actually finding one cause if I did I may even contribute to their extinction, I don’t think society is capable of finding any hidden treasure and keeping it as such, we’d find it cage it and make an Instagram account for it. But the idea that it is there or … here in these mountains … is important to me, I need this idea I enjoy it, it makes me feel better” continued David.

Stephanie needed to touch him again so in her prance she skimmed her arm against his ‘wow, skin’ she thought to herself cautious only to not make him drop the wine. He glanced with surprise to her and their two smiles met once more. They were close to the hotel now and she knew it was time to start thinking about what was coming next. She put accidental touching aside for a moment to talk again.

“I like how you think David, I mean people generally should follow more of the dreams and beliefs, that’s why I came to Banff”

He joked in “to find bigfoot?” with a laugh.

“No I would never dream of steeling your glory” she joked back and went on “… I came to find … I don’t know what i came to find but I knew that it was missing and I knew that I would find it here”

“that’s deep” acclaimed David as they went through the side door of the lobby. The main revolving doors were switched off as it was one a.m. “That sounds like a bottle-of-wine conversation to me”

“Well that’s exactly what we have here isn’t it, what’s your floor?” she asked in front of the elevators. “6” he sparked and in they went … into that room called an elevator but for two people in their state leads straight down into the depths of hell.

Alone, a man with pirate eyes and a girl that escaped from London, in a confined room, with a bottle of French wine, both feeling the subtle upward thrust of the elevator which after the fourth floor can provoke a tingle in certain body parts and all around them … mirrors. They both fell into that devilish elevator trap of looking up in search of help to battle awkwardness instead they got … a ceiling mirror. The scripture was on their faces, blushing near their timid lips, they both knew that this was a love-test for them. Will they reach the sixth floor before they gasp out laughing and thus making a sexual confession unavoidable or not?

Ding, saved by the bell, they had made it.

David had taken a small room, not a suite, which Stephanie did notice. Of all the aspects of life Stephanie did not rank the concept of “enough money” as being number one in importance but she did firmly place it at number two, just after “more money”.

‘fine, he didn’t get the suite, so what? More money for all the gifts he is going to buy for me’ she told herself to shut up. But she did walk into the room to the tune of Material World sung by Madonna, original version of course cause well … it’s Madonna. She wanted to speed things up a bit it was already 1:30 and they hadn’t even kissed yet. They needed to kiss as soon as possible and with Victorian elegance.

David walked in and put the wine and glasses on the small coffee table. “Well here we are, there is a bathroom if you need there and a bed here … not if you need it I mean it’s just here as you can see … I better open the wine make yourself at home” he said clumsily.

‘He is funny’ she laughed inside and couldn’t restrain from saying “If I need the bed i can use it?” while laughing.

Davide laughed back and for now didn’t want to give too much breathing room to that chain of joking.

Stephanie placed her hand bag on the bed, this was her levee in case things flooded too soon. A woman in a hotel room with a man is better than a well-trained Mossad agent. She’ll put the condoms in the right place, order them as per favourite flavour, cork screw the wine, hide the man’s underwear, ensure he doesn’t steal hers and do the bed all in 10 minutes flat while the man hasn’t even found out how to unclip her bra.

She sat down and wanted some silence. It was time for him to go through his year 6 med-school advanced brain surgery exam …  with no time to study. Easy, for the man that Stephanie was going to fall in love with. She leaned forward with her elbows on the table while watching him open the bottle and hopefully … set the perfect scene. David was walking around the room with the bottle.

“wow, this is luck!” proclaimed David with a whisper.

“what?”

“there is a cork screw in the room, they don’t always put them in the minibars”

‘A - Ha’ said Stephanie to herself ‘so, Mr pirate eyes, trying to find a corkscrew in hotel rooms is a common problem for you is it now? What am I, number 87? You just lost 10 points here brother and you haven’t even poured the wine ‘ she decreed.

“you do this often?” she bit while finishing her sentence in her mind with ‘if he doesn’t answer in 5 nanoseconds it means I caught him and then me, my cheap lipstick together with my bag and jogging underwear are out of here’

Luckily it was a false alarm as David did reply with sincerity and rapidly “well I travel a lot and I generally like good wine plus I like to work from my hotel room so I’ll often order dinner to my room, the common hotel room service guy will simply forget to bring the opener and I’ll have to call them back, in good hotels they remember or they have a corkscrew in the room”.

‘phew! you are back in the game, I really want you to win this, now I’m ready for you to score a touchdown on my 5 yard line’ She wanted to get physical.

Davide poured the wine and brought the glasses to the table, he set them down and began to sit but stopped half way. He bounced back up and looked around.

“What’s wrong” she said, ‘will you get with the program boy? Let’s get the wine on’ she thought.

He crossed his arms and scraped his chin while turning left and right observantly.

“the lighting is terrible in this room” pausing to think while turn eighteen times.

‘he’s thinking about how to make my working-girl body look like a Canova statue, I love this man’ thought Stephanie.

“Let me … prefect – verb if you allow – as much as I can” said David and set to the task of lighting. He tried multiple combinations of the infinite room light options. After five minutes of the cheapest lighting show in the history of light Stephanie was about to start biting her lips. “Hey, I think it’s ok David let’s try this wine” she commanded.

Blackout. Suddenly it was pitch dark as David had hit the master switch turning all the lights off.

‘What’s this?’ she squeaked inside when the bathroom light turned on giving the room the aura of a cloudy summer night with the last effect of dusk fighting to hold on. ‘perfect’ she thought as David emerged and finally sat down.

‘I made it through the wilderness, Somehow I made it through

Didn’t know how lost I was, until I found you’

Stephanie was now listening to “Like a Virgin”

He lifted his glass, closed his eyes and pushed his nose deep inside with fragile care taking a deep nose breathe.

“ahhhh this does smell great, it will be perfect in 6 to 7 hours but it’s great even now” said the pirate to his wine glass and his eyes came back into play. It was too dark outside while they were walking to see their full effect but now, here, in silence and under this perfect light it was open season on his eyes for Stephanie. She simply stopped controlling where she looked.

“Cheers” he said and lifted his glass to her.

“Cheers” she replied.

Crystals struck and their lips were wet at last. He took a second sip, swirled the glass and falling back into his chair smiling to her, he said “I’m going to ask your permission to give you a compliment right now, I have to, I need to, please let me tell you something that right now … I really need to say”

“I didn’t stop your bigfoot discourse how could I say no to this?” she said in the most bashful way. She did not want to stop him but at the same time didn’t what to give him full control at least not until they were horizontal.

“Well here goes, I … I think you’re beautiful”

Stephanie smiled with a “humph”

“no no … let me put it into perspective here for you” … takes another sip … Stephanie takes two … “This may sound strange but I have to tell all about it, hear me out, I was walking across the most majestic mountain range in the world the other day looking for my mythical being. I had shut the whole smoggy and high speed world out for the whole day. It was going to be about me and this dream, this myth, this thing I consciously choose to believe in. I was out there. Fully immersed and totally dedicated, nothing else was with me. At last I had achieved a life goal – to start a journey of discovery of something I believe in with all my heart. So there I was” … two sips for him and three for Stephanie who realised this wasn’t going to be another simple pick-up line … “So I’m going through a small forest patch and then I cross a river, and walk some more. I was loving every minute of this. So, I go on some more and then from atop a hill covered with wild flowers and the aroma of honey from a primordial habitat I saw not far away the outline of something standing” … he paused and looked at Stephanie. She was to overtaken by his nonstop narrative and his eyes that alternated focal point from glass to her and to her hair at times. Dazzled, she simply wanted to hear more. He paused for five seconds then said “… we need a wine break, our glasses are already empty, let me pour some more”

Stephanie showed relief with a shrugging shoulder movement and a deep smile “ha yeah I was so taken by your story I mean I can’t wait to hear about your bigfoot experience” she jokingly recessed from the captivating tension of the moment. David poured another third of the bottle into their wide slim necked glasses, took two sips and continued.

“so where was i? ah the first encounter. This figure I saw standing was drenched in the shadow of these ancient trembling aspens and was clearly a humanoid in my view. Even at that distance in the darkness of the forest shade I could tell it was no plant. I didn’t want to risk going closer at this point cause I was sure it hadn’t seen me while I had seen it, so I decided to stop and observe any intellectual should”

“and …?” asked Stephanie between three sips of the Pomerol which was choking much faster than it could breathe. Davide too was drinking.

“So I’m looking at what my heart was calling the being I’ve dreamt of finding all my life and what was it doing?”

“… what?” whispered Stephanie over the same uttering from Davide “what ? hehe there … you too ask what, I’ll tell you what, standing near a tree, standing and looking at the tree as if to see what the tree looked like … it … you were doing something with the tree … I can only guess you were comparing it to your body dimensions, at least that’s what I think” David said.

‘I’m going to cry’

Stephanie looked ready to cry

“don’t say anything yet at least, let me finish. What I saw you do, and I didn’t know who you are, was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen a person do on this planet so far in my life time”

Her eyes were ready to shed the first tear in her life that had this a mild temperature, neither cold from a tear of pain nor warm as tears from sorrow have. But she also wanted to laugh from joy as the cynical Stephanie knew that such a sight could be classified as simply silly.

David went on “I watched you for 10 full minutes Stephanie and I didn’t want to disturb the meditating state you were clearly in with nature, at some point you turned in my direction and I panicked. I started whistling in the other direction. I didn’t want you to think I was some mad man stalking women in the forest. So I left”

‘kill me now but only after making pure love to me please’ she begged inside but outside she had to find a practical solution to this emotional traffic jam.

She constructed a mild umfy laugh with lots of “he he” and said “wow, you saw me there? What a coincidence, I must have looked ridiculous”

“no … you looked and are … a myth” he whispered with full eye contact.

‘gulp’

“shhhh” he hushed.

David knew any hint or attempt at courtship in the conventional sense was now an option long gone for them. Their Titanic had made contact with the iceberg and there were no lifeboats for the last passengers. He proposed a toast again to her where crystals kissed this time and finished his wine as did she, he stood up and lowered his hands to her.

“give me your hands” he asked, she did and he pulled her up. Face to face he lifted their arms to the sky, Stephanie knew a kiss would be perfect right about now and David did deliver.

The lips had more to say than the eyes and what mattered most was also the more surprising, that this man knew the concept of acceleration. Taking every step with the right speed, not too slow to stop the flooding nor to fast to drown the princess.

Their union of lips lit chain fires and her bag went flying as he moved her body for her. His hair filled her fingers as his body filled her arms, both were playing the part they’d rehearsed for so many years. Now on centre stage. He was proving with heart, soul and above all his hands the existence of the mythical being he’d been seeking and known to be our Stephanie while she finally permitted full and total loss of control.

Who was this man? A pirate who has known me longer than I know him, a believer and a shy adventurer with taste for wine. Definitely not in the article she had read on that Lufthansa flight but … so very worth a book.

[jamielea81]

Take a Chance on Me

Chapter 1

Description: On your thirtieth birthday, you had everything you needed. A steady job, a nice new apartment, your cuddly cat Moto, and your two best friends Natasha and Wanda. Suddenly you were half way through age thirty-three and nothing had changed. You were never the type to need to be in a relationship, but you just thought it would have happened by now. Never one to take risks, you decide to shake up your life by creating an online dating profile.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: None

A/N: Italics indicate internal thoughts. Tag list is still open. I tagged some of those who were tagged in A Walk in the Park, if you want to be removed, please let me know. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

“What’s this website called again?” Wanda asked. She was in your refrigerator again, digging through your fruit drawer for something to eat. You spent more money on groceries for your friends that you did for yourself.

“Hey, don’t touch my strawberries, I’m saving them for work.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She said, grabbing an apple instead.

“It’s called Find Love.” You were scrolling through your phone looking for a couple of selfies, maybe a cute one with the three of you.

“Oh, that’s a good one! Look at little baby Ethan. He’s so cute.” Natasha said, pointing at a picture of you holding your baby nephew last month.

Your younger brother Nick and his wife Amy just had their first child. They’d been married for three years and now they’ve made your dad a grandfather. The brat. Your dad was constantly bombard you with questions about your nonexistent love life. Now that he had baby Ethan, he was asking when you’d make him a grandfather as well. You were pretty sure he’d be fine if you didn’t get married as long as you had a baby.

“I love that photo! But guys will take one look at me holding Ethan and think I’m a single mother looking for a father for her baby.”

“No decent guy would.” Wanda said, while plopping herself on the couch, sandwiching you between the two of them.

You loved your friends dearly. The three of you lived on the same dormitory floor your freshman year in college. You each ditched your roommates your second year in favor of renting an apartment together off campus. Fifteen years later and you were still friends. The trouble with your friends helping you create an online dating profile is, they were both in long term committed relationships. Wanda has been married for seven years to Vision, Vis for short. You were pretty sure his parents were hippies. While Natasha was living with her boyfriend Bruce. Neither of them believed in marriage, but have been happily cohabitating for five years. Neither Wanda nor Natasha had tried online dating. They both met their partners at work. You’ve dated guys from work, but unfortunately those relationships had always ended shortly after they began. You were an actuary and you loved your job, mainly because you loved working with numbers. But when it came down to it, the men in the same line of work as you were well, frankly boring.

“I agree with you Wan, but let’s at least open the dating pool as far as I can get it and then I’ll skim out the bad apples.” You said while pointing at the apple in her hand.

She pulled you in a one arm hug and kissed the top of your head. “Make sure that you list your talent of telling dad jokes on that profile of yours Y/N.” Wanda said.

 After the girls had gone home, you opened up the dating app to finish filling in your profile.

“Okay, Find Love dot com, let’s do this.”

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Location: Brooklyn NY

What type of relationship are you seeking? A New Friend, Casual Dating, or a Committed Relationship?

Easy enough, a committed relationship. You were so not the hook up type of girl.

What age range are you looking for in a match? 30 to 36

How far are you willing to travel for your match? 0-5 miles, 5-9 miles, 9-15 miles, 15-20 miles, 20+ miles. I’m in Brooklyn and don’t have a car. I’m only traveling so far. 5-9 miles it is.

It’s Saturday night, what are you doing? Out with Friends enjoying dinner and drinks.

Technically, it is Saturday and you are home, but no one needs to know that.

The first thing people usually notice about me

This one you had to think on. You didn’t want to go with a boring response but you didn’t want to sound too full of yourself either.

My zest for life. Sometimes you just have to let go and go where the mood takes you.

It was only the second real question and this profile set up was already killing you.

What do you do for fun?

This one was the toughest question of all. You didn’t want to lie, but telling the truth would only match you with the type of men you’ve already dated. You wanted someone to help you get out of your shell. You wanted someone to shake up you everyday safe existence.

Real answers: Brunching with the girls, reading, calculating risk in everyday situations, snuggling with your black and white cat Moto, movies, and cooking.

Answers you entered on your profile: Thrill seeker that’s willing to try anything once. Loves to be out of the house. Cooking.

That’s a safe one.

Describe your perfect date

Hiking to a waterfall and jumping in (do people do that?), followed by drinks and dancing.

After filling in the appearance section of the questionnaire, you were all set.

You patted the couch cushion next to you. You heard his meow before you saw him. Moto had a talent for finding hiding spots around your apartment, but he was always good about coming when he was called. A few seconds later his fluffy body had jumped up next to you, rubbing his head against your leg until you ran your hand around his face and down his body. You adopted him eight years ago and he was officially the longest relationship you had. Hopefully that would be changing soon.

You hit the submit button on your profile after adding two selfies and a picture of you and your two besties. You put your phone in your purse so that you wouldn’t look at it until tomorrow. The site specified it could take several hours to two days before it would find matches for you, so you didn’t want to obsess. You knew it was a 1 in 600 chance of finding love online, but you also knew those odds could change if you took chances. If you said yes more often then no, those odds could easily change to 1 in 100.

 Sundays were always brunch days with Wanda and Natasha. Friday and Saturday nights were reserved for Vis and Bruce, but Sundays were for the three of you. Some days you got pedicures together, some days massages, some days you went shopping, but it always included brunch.

“So, you haven’t even looked to see if you had any matches?” Natasha asked, pushing a strand of red hair behind her ear.

“Not yet. Today is about the three of us, I don’t want to obsess over my phone the whole day.”

Well, technically, it was my turn to plan the day, and I say we grab a few more mimosas and look at all the hot men you’ve been matched with.” Wanda said.

“Didn’t you need help finding a suit for work? I thought we were going shopping.” You asked.

“Nah, that can totally wait, I technically don’t need a new one. Vis says I have too many clothes.”

“Tell him you need a larger closet.” Natasha added. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I think I need another drink before we even open that app.”

It ended up being two more drinks before the dating site was opened. Your server was on top of it with the endless mimosas. He would be getting a generous tip from you.

The three of you were giggly as the matches loaded. Nerves and four mimosas were to blame. Luckily you only lived two blocks away.

“Twenty-three matches! Y/N, look at you!” Wanda yelled. You snorted and grinned. Natasha had moved her chair to your side of the table so that the three of you were huddled together. A few of the tables near you looked to see what the commotion was about; Natasha waved her hand to dismiss them.

The matches were all listed in a row and in order by their matching percentage. To the side of that list were matches that had messaged you. Seven out of the twenty-three had messaged you which you took as a good sign. It had only been one night after all.  

You decided to start with those that had messaged and if none of them interested you, you would move on to the others.

“Some of these guys are pretty hot.” Natasha said, nudging you in the arm.

“You know I don’t care about that.” You clicked on the first match, Joey P.

“It doesn’t hurt though.” Wanda agreed.

“Okay, it doesn’t hurt. Joey is pretty cute and he’s here in Brooklyn!”

Clicking open the message you wrinkled your nose and closed it out.

“What did it say? I didn’t see.” Natasha asked.

“It said, who’s the hot red head.”

“Guys are jerks. Sorry hun.”

“Next!” Wanda shouted.

You leaned over to Natasha to tell her Wanda was cut off. Unfortunately, your server brought over the fifth-round right at that moment.

“This will be all.” Natasha said to the server. Her voice soft so that Wanda wouldn’t hear.

Clicking on the next guy, you immediately jumped out of his profile, not even looking at his message.

“What was wrong with that guy?” Wanda asked.

“He’s in Upper Manhattan, I’m not dragging my butt all the way there.”

“He could come to you, you know. You act like it’s Jersey.” Wanda said.

“But if it turns into a relationship, which is the ultimate goal, I’d need to go there too. I like it here; I don’t have plans to uproot my life too much.”

Clicking on the third guy, Chris S. you saw that he had potential. Lives in Brooklyn, your age, likes cats. All positives so far. You clicked the message and were once again met with a displeasing message. “Do the three of you come as a package?”

“Ugh!” You clicked out of his profile and set your phone on the table.

“Why are guys like that?” Wanda asked.

You tipped your glass back, finishing it in one go.

“Beats me. It annoys me because I said I was looking for a relationship, why are they even messaging me?”

Natasha wrapped an arm around you and leaned her head on your shoulder. Sometimes a hug was all you needed.

She picked up your phone, erasing the message from Chris S. “How about I look through the other four messages and I’ll pass it back to you if there is a good one.”

“But he needs to...”

She cut you off before you could finish. Be from Brooklyn. I know.”

She angled her body away from you, but you could see that she was intently reading and scrolling. After about a minute, she placed your phone on the table in front of you.

“Bucky B. That’s an interesting name.”

“Stop being judgy, just read his profile.” Natasha said.

Wanda leaned over you, practically blocked your view. You tucked her into your side and started to scroll through Bucky’s profile. Thirty-four, Brooklyn born and raised. Okay, Okay. Dark hair, grayish blue eyes, I like it, I like it. He’s got a picture of himself on a motorcycle, and while you think of those things as death traps, it does excite you.

“Thoughts?” Natasha asked. Smug look on her face.

“I like him!” Wanda chirped. Her Sokovian accent coming through the more she drinks.

“Not you, Y/N.” Natasha deadpanned.

“Let me look at his message first.”

“Hey Doll,

You came up as a new match for me. In all honesty, I’d like to skip the back and forth thing on this app and take you out for a drink. It’s easier to get to know one another that way. What do you say?

Bucky”

“Hmm. He doesn’t want to chat on the app, he just wants to meet.”

“That’s not a bad thing. Maybe he’s been burned.” Natasha said.

“But I don’t know him.”

“I could go with you!” Wanda added.

“Probably not on a first date Wan.” Natasha said. She shrugged her shoulders and finished her drink.

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. It kind of skips the BS that could happen with texting. And if you really don’t like him, you could end the date early and move on. Just meet him at Jake’s, that way it’s a place you are familiar with.” Natasha argued.

You nodded your head and bit your lower lip. His profile indicated he liked traveling and going on adventures which is exactly what you needed.

“Okay. I’ll message him back to tell him yes.”

They both cheered, once again causing stares from other patrons.

“Hi Bucky,

I agree. Let’s meet for a drink. Have you been to Jake’s on 3rd? Let me know what day works best for you.

Y/N”

 That evening, you were finishing up a load of laundry and preparing for the work day tomorrow. You decided to leave the dating app alone until you heard back from Bucky even though a few more matches had come through. Your phone buzzed with a message notification from Find Love. The preview showed it was from Bucky B. so you opened it.

“I’ve been to Jake’s. Tomorrow at 8?”

Tomorrow? But it’s a work night. You weren’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t like you to go out for drinks on a Monday, and certainly not later in the evening. However, saying yes was your new mantra. One drink couldn’t hurt.

“See you at Jake’s at 8.

Y/N”

A minute later another message came through.

“Sweet dreams beautiful.

Bucky”

Tag List: @marvelousnomad @rainbowkisses31 @panic-naran @violetadefebrero @tanelle83 @thejourneyneverendsx @ly-cia @caps-lockdown @thefandomzoneisdangerous @ladywintersoldat @not-another-tmblr @chita0027 @estillion14 @lookwhatyoumademequeue @I-am-not-a-goat @theonelittleone @captaineef @banrionbeansidhe @lumar014@humandasaster

[imnotinclinedtomaturity]

Love Yourself: Chapter 35

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 5.5k story words: 289k (so far) chapter: 35/? rating: e warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut, some depression, consensual d/s undertones genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: hello all! apologies for the VERY long wait. i had this chapter in basically this exact same condition a MONTH ago and didn't post because i intended to be nice and add to it. however, i kept NOT, because tbh i'd always planned to end the chapter here, and didn't want to end it here just because of the long wait, and then the wait became longer... and then it became a whole cycle.

but i had an impulsive moment tonight, and basically demanded the ever-lovely elizajane's attention and cleaned it up for posting. i knew i'd just sit on it for ages if i didnt post, and the odds of adding it to it was probably low. now that it's out there, the odds of me moving forward and writing shoot up dramatically haha.

thank you each and every one of you for your never-ending and ever-present support. i love how patient and enthusiastic you are, even when i make you wait literal months for a chapter. my work life has been very hectic lately (i'm applying for a big thing this fall and it's a lot of time and effort and writing), but i promise i'm dedicating actual time in the next week to actually sitting down and sketching out how i want to get from here to the intended ending. i want everyone to experience the ending i have in my head for this fic, and i wanna figure out how to make that happen for all of us. 

***************

Taking a break from the world and enjoying each other’s company was a wonderful decision. And sure, they had spent half the day working, but they’d been working together. In bed. Alone.

This was a development that Phil was very okay with. For one, working in bed was a lot more comfortable than the chairs at B&G. And while skype calls were better than the coffee shop, where Phil was at least able to sit on his sofa instead of a stiff chair, they didn’t hold a candle to this setup. Because in this new arrangement, Phil had been able to reach out and touch Dan anytime he’d wanted. And Dan could touch him back — in fact, Dan had spent the majority of the day touching him back.

Plus, once they’d finished their work, they’d been able to set computers and journals and pens aside and focus on each other. Three hours, a nap, and another round of making out later, Phil was feeling… content. He couldn’t quite place the feeling. It was domestic and warm, nice in a way he hadn’t ever really experienced before. In a way he very much wanted to experience for as long as possible.

It had been a solid twenty minutes, maybe thirty — Phil couldn’t see the clock from his current position — since Dan had settled in Phil’s arms again, arm looped around Phil’s bare waist, head tucked into Phil’s shoulder. For a while, Dan had been tracing faint, tickling designs on Phil’s side, but somewhere along the way, the movements had stopped. Phil was beginning to wonder if Dan had fallen asleep again. It wouldn’t have been that surprising; in fact, it might have been the only explanation for Dan being this quiet and this still for this long. Quiet and still weren’t exactly Dan’s normal behavior.

Curious, Phil grazed his fingers up and down Dan’s arm, keeping his touch light enough that it wouldn’t wake Dan if he was asleep, but just enough that Dan would still be able to feel it if he was in fact awake. Phil was surprised when Dan let out a quiet hum. Stilling his fingers, Phil turned his head to peek at Dan’s face. His eyes were closed, but his lips were quirked up into a small smile, giving away the fact that he was undoubtedly awake. Awake — and maybe, just maybe, happy. Phil’s mouth twitched up into a small smile of his own — Dan’s happiness made him happy.

“That felt nice,” Dan murmured, just a smidge of petulance in his voice. Phil took the hint and resumed gently stroking Dan’s arm. “Good boy,” Dan mumbled, so quiet that Phil could barely hear him.

Chuckling, Phil bit back a quip about how Dan was the good boy here, because now didn’t seem like the right time for that. Now was too soft of a moment to have a serious conversation about it, and it certainly wasn’t the right moment to… derail with sex. It was too nice. So instead, Phil relaxed quietly and let his fingers draw aimless paths from Dan’s shoulder to his wrist, enjoying the moment.

“This is nice,” Dan murmured again, this time sounding nothing but pleased as he wiggled closer to Phil, his head burrowing ever so slightly deeper into Phil’s shoulder and his grip tightening just a hair.

“It is,” Phil agreed lowly, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the moment.

A beat of silence passed between them, and Phil wondered if Dan was just as reluctant to break the reverie as he was.

But the silence couldn’t last forever — Phil didn’t expect that it could. A few minutes later, Dan was tilting his head up to look at Phil, his eyes already filled with dread. “I’m beginning to feel a bit badly about ignoring the rest of the world, though.” Dan didn’t sound like he felt guilty, his voice the same serene, easy tone as before.

“Get up on the count of three?” Phil offered, stilling his hand on Dan’s bicep.

“I don’t feel that bad,” Dan whined with an exaggerated eyeroll.

Phil giggled at the adorable manchild in his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of Dan’s head, his fingers once again resuming their path. “You can count at whatever pace you want, silly old bear.”

Dan’s gaze softened, and his lips shifted from an immature pout to a playful smirk. “Fine, but we’re starting at negative five,” he compromised smugly, sounding sure that he’d gotten the best of Phil.

“Deal,” Phil agreed readily. His desire to move Dan was half-hearted at best, really only driven by Dan’s ambivalent efforts to get up.

Dan, apparently satisfied with Phil’s response, settled his head back into the crevice of Phil’s neck, and looped his arm snugly around Phil’s stomach. Burrowing his head closer to Phil’s chest, Dan murmured a quiet and unconvincing negative four.

It took Dan fifteen minutes to count to zero, and another ten to get to three. True to their agreement, though, Dan pushed himself up and out of Phil’s arms as he called out the last number. Seeming to capitalize on his momentum, Dan swung his legs to the floor and climbed out of the bed, swiping both their phones off the nightstand.

“Is it time?” Phil asked, unable to curb his reluctance, even as he caught his phone when Dan threw it at him.

“It’s time,” Dan confirmed, still standing by the bed. He didn’t sound any more pleased about it than Phil felt, but he was already in the process of unlocking his own phone, so Phil figured there was no escaping reality at this point.

Pressing his thumb to the home button, Phil unlocked his phone, only getting as far as his home screen — where there were approximately fifty thousand notifications — before he was sidetracked by a sharp what the fuck from Dan.

For a second, Phil was torn on what to do first. It seemed like every app had at least a dozen notifications — and some had literally hundreds. His finger froze, debating if he should open his email or twitter or instagram or tumblr or messages or whatsapp or —

Jesus, even Phil’s calendar app had notifications. That never happened, not outside of previously-discussed meeting invitations at least.

“What in the actual fuck?” Dan muttered, drawing Phil’s attention up; Dan, and his confused distress, seemed like a better place to start than the notifications anyway. Everyone else in the world could wait — and not just because they weren’t right in front of Phil.

“What is it?” he asked, trying his best to keep the apprehensive fear out of his voice (and doing a bang up job of it, he was certain).

“I— someone— last night—” Dan stopped and started several times, his voice growing higher and higher pitched with every attempt, his eyes still focused on his screen. Each start gave no more insight to his increasing distress than the last.

“Dan,” Phil urged, his voice just this side of commanding. He was nervous and increasingly worried, and his anxiety was already getting the best of him.

“There’s— picture,” Dan finally spat out, voice strangled, panicked.

Realization — and his own fair share of fear — washed over Phil, a deep sense of dread churning in his stomach as his mind flashed through image after erotic image of what could have been photographed from last night: Dan blushing at the table while they talked about rimming, Dan straddling his lap in the club and grinding down, Phil pressing Dan against the bar and feeding him limes in the most suggestive way possible, Dan grinding his arse into his crotch and dancing on a crowded and anonymous dance floor…

Phil’s imagination was saved the effort of conjuring up more wonderful but wildly inappropriate memories by Dan thrusting his phone into Phil’s face, far too close for Phil to actually focus on the image on the screen. Calmly, or at least in some version of what Phil hoped seemed calm but probably wasn’t, Phil plucked the phone out of Dan’s hand and held it at a reasonable distance, preparing himself for the worst.

His eyes adjusted, and he took in the picture.

The first thing Phil noticed was that the photo was dark and grainy, but there was no mistaking it was them, not with Dan’s brown curls and dark clothes, and Phil’s dark quiff and brighter outfit. Still, it was far better than any of Phil’s fears — it wasn’t from the restaurant or the club or the dance floor, they weren’t grinding or kissing or teasingly touching each other.

The picture didn’t scream platonic friends, but at the same time, there wasn’t anything explicitly confirmatory about it. There were no obvious hickeys, no lips pressed against lips or throats or collarbones, no hands straying to explicitly private parts.

There was still a shred of plausible deniability.

Oddly enough, the picture seemed to capture the same thing Dan’s new lyrics had — the softer, more romantic and gentle part of the night, the part where they’d sunk into each other. The part where they were full of lust, but undoubtedly full of something else, too.

No, the photo wasn’t some dirty, grainy shot of them at their horniest. It was taken from the back, which explained why they hadn’t noticed the photographer — although the absurd amount of alcohol probably explained that equally as well. They were stopped at a crosswalk, standing side-by-side on the corner, their arms looped around each other’s waists.

Or, well, Dan’s arm was looped around Phil’s waist. Phil’s arm was a bit — a lot — lower. His hand wasn’t so much gripping Dan’s hip as it was the side of his arse.

The placement of Phil’s wandering hand wasn’t great, but compared to their faces…

Dan’s head was tipped sideways onto Phil’s shoulder, chin angled up so his mouth was very obviously accessible for Phil’s. Phil’s own face was turned to look at Dan, bent down at an unnatural angle, his expression a blurry picture of fondness.

Phil couldn’t help but wonder why the photographer — whoever they were — shared this moment, and not the one immediately after. The moment where Phil was nearly certain he’d closed the small distance between them and kissed Dan’s begging lips.

It looked coupley, of course it did, it couldn’t not. But there was room to spin it.

Probably.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Phil schooled his face into a neutral expression and lowered the phone — not that it mattered that much; it wasn’t like Dan’s phone was big enough to hide Phil’s entire face, and Phil was certain that his initial expression hadn’t been the most… composed of all reactions he could have had.

“Okay,” Phil said shortly. His one-word response was clipped, monotone. Drawing a deep breath, he tried his best to sound a bit more alive, a bit more positive, when he continued. “Could’ve been worse, all things considered.”

There. That was a true statement.

Dan raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, shrugging his shoulder in a noncommittal I guess fashion. He snatched his phone out of Phil’s hand and studied the picture for a second longer before looking back up to Phil.

“You can’t tell if either of us are hard, I guess that’s something,” Dan finally conceded. He pursed his lips, his mouth scrunching to one side as he stared harder at his screen.

“True,” Phil agreed, genuinely thankful for the small victory — he knew he’d been at least semi-hard for a large part of the previous night, and he was pretty sure the same went for Dan, too. Phil’s branding could handle some drunk walking and cuddling with a friend (or someone more, his audience didn’t need to know the specifics). He wasn’t sure how well his branding would mesh with stiff cocks and hot lips and groping hands, though.

Twirling his own phone between his thumb and forefinger, Phil trained his gaze on Dan’s face, carefully watching for any minute hint of emotion. Dan’s expression was steadfastly neutral, albeit pinched, though, making it nearly impossible for Phil to read what Dan was thinking.

“What next?” Phil finally relented when the silence went on for too long. The desperation to do something — whether it was responding to every single tweet they’d been tagged in or deleting every contact who’d messaged them about the picture — was gnawing at Phil’s nerves and his fingers were itching to do anything at this point.

Antarctica could be nice, Phil thought. At least penguins were cute. And probably easier to please than excited fans.

Dan sighed, dropping his attention back down to his phone. “I reckon we should start by seeing what people are saying,” Dan mumbled, already tapping about on his phone as he collapsed back onto the bed, his back leaning against the headboard, his side pressing up alongside Phil’s. “No point in talking ‘bout what we want to do until we know what everyone’s thinking.”

“Great,” Phil agreed, an uncharacteristic note of sarcasm creeping into his response — maybe it was from being around Dan so much, or maybe it was the only way he could cope with the severity of the current situation. “Reading through all my twitter mentions is exactly what I want to do right now,” he huffed, punctuating his complaint with an eyeroll.

Dan and his sass were definitely beginning to rub off on him.

Whining aside, both Dan and Phil opened their twitters. Phil swiped directly over to his mentions, impatience getting the best of him. Almost all of them mentioned Dan too, and a not-insignificant portion were in response to the original tweeted picture of them. Phil had learned from experience: the more people responded to the source of gossip, the more people the gossip reached.

As Phil scrolled through his tweets, he gathered that most people's reactions were positive — ranging from excited keyboard smashes to multi-tweet threads of encouragement, support, and firm warnings to respect his and Dan’s privacy. Somewhere in between the extremes, though, were a bunch of overly intrusive, speculative tweets that had Phil groaning. There were tweets that tried to guess at the context of the photo, tweet threads that in-depth speculated on the nature of his and Dan’s relationship, back-and-forth tweets arguing about the timeline of their romance.

It was too much to keep reading, and besides, Phil had well gotten the gist of it all by now. He glanced over at Dan, mainly to see his reaction, only to find that Dan was scrolling through a hashtag that Phil had only noticed in passing, not fully registering its popularity.

#Phanconfirmed

“There’s a hashtag?” Phil asked wearily, despite the fact that between his feed and Dan’s screen, the answer was obvious.

“It’s trending,” Dan confirmed, his voice still flat as he scrolled through page after page of tweets. “Worldwide,” he added.

“Fuck,” Phil mumbled, incapable of much else at this moment. Dan might have been hung up reading tweets in the hashtag, but Phil was pretty certain he didn’t have it in him at this moment in time. Closing out of the app, Phil switched over to his calendar, then his voicemail, then his messages.

Just from the badges on the apps, Phil knew it’d be bad. All things considered, though, he wasn’t nearly as prepared as he should have been. “I’ve got eight missed calls, five voicemails, and three virtual meeting invites from my manager,” Phil said, half to himself and half to Dan. “And a rather demanding text.”

And those weren’t even counting the ones from PJ and Martyn and his mum. Now definitely didn’t seem like the moment to deal with those.

“Shit,” Dan cursed under his breath. “I should probably check mine, too,” he conceded, this time a little louder.

Phil tore his eyes from his screen — he didn’t particularly want to keep staring at Marianne’s assertive call me asap message anyway — and watched as Dan tapped through his own phone and message apps.

“Sixteen calls, nine voicemails, and ten texts from Louise,” Dan read off unnecessarily, still sounding like he was in a state of shock. Tapping back to his full message list, Dan continued, “Adaline texted five times, too. I’m sure those aren’t hunting for gossip at all,” Dan huffed, dropping his phone and burying his face in his hands.

Phil made a sympathetic noise. His brother wasn’t much of a gossiper, but his whole family knew Martyn was more likely to get dirt out of Phil than anyone else, so he was willing to bet his brother’s texts had the same intentions as Dan’s sister’s.

Dan rubbed his face, clearly agitated. “Fuck, I don’t even want to think about what my parents are saying — I kind of put a moratorium on discussing my love life with them.”

As much as that statement piqued Phil’s interest, he couldn’t bring himself to focus on it right now; his mind was too focused on his own parents — and the fact that he'd barely gotten around to telling his mum anything. He’d shot her a text while they were waiting to board their plane to New York, just a vague message about how she might be seeing his name pop up in celebrity gossip columns and yes he was dating someone and no he didn’t have time to call her and regale her with the details right then. That definitely wasn’t enough anymore, not given the fact that there was now actual photographic evidence of Phil intertwined with a very obviously famous boy that his mum would definitely recognize. So Phil filed Dan’s stray comment about keeping his parents and love life separate into the discuss later part of his brain.

Turning his focus back to the problem at hand, Phil tried to search for a solution. “We should call them, right? Our managers, I mean,” Phil asked, uncertain and unconvinced with his own suggestion. “Or should we talk about this first, just us?”

Dan clicked his phone off, chucking it haphazardly into his lap, and rolled his head to face Phil. His face was still tense with stress, his eyes lit up with something far too close to regret for Phil’s comfort.

“I’m sorry I was all over you last night, I feel like this is my fault,” Dan lamented, his eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds. It wasn’t an answer to Phil’s question, it was just an… unnecessary apology.

“Hey,” Phil said softly, nudging his shoulder against Dan’s and tipping his head up with gentle fingers on Dan’s chin. Their gazes finally met, and Phil pressed a sweet kiss to Dan’s forehead. “Last night was just as much me as it was you,” Phil assured him.

“Yeah, but I was the sloppy, needy one who practically begged his boyfriend to take care of him,” Dan rebutted, his face still filled with far more remorse than Phil ever wanted to see on it.

“Shush,” Phil admonished kindly. “You may have been a bit needy, but I was more than willing to take care of you, baby. I don’t want you to ever feel bad for asking for what you need, I want to give it to you no matter what.”

Dan’s eyes snapped shut again, his breath coming a bit heavier than it had been a minute ago. A tense moment passed before he finally spoke.

“Fuck, Phil. You can’t just say shit like that,” he grumbled, eyes batting open and boring into Phil’s. “Not if you’re not willing to fuck me, anyway,” he added, a hint of a smirk toying at his lips.

“Later, babe, after we deal with this.” Phil kissed Dan’s forehead again, this time letting his lips linger for a few seconds before pulling back and letting Dan’s chin dip back down. Gaze trained on the top of Dan’s head and eyes tracing the messy curls, Phil’s mind drifted back to the problem at hand.

Fiddling with his phone in one hand as he searched for what to say next, Phil’s mind fumbled through vague, half-formed ideas. But before he could articulate any of them, the harsh, unexpected vibrating of his phone derailed his thoughts. Even as he glanced down, Phil could already guess that the call was from his manager — in hindsight, the buzzing really shouldn’t be that surprising, given all the other missed calls.

“I can let it go to voicemail,” Phil offered, making no move to answer the call. “That way we can talk first.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dan sighed. “Stalling won’t make things any easier. Just… figure out what she’s thinking and don’t agree to anything major, and I’ll do the same with Louise and then we can figure it out together.”

“Mmk,” Phil hummed in agreement, swiping to answer the call at the last second. “Hi, Marianne,” he greeted when the call connected. His voice had none of its usual enthusiasm, and his attention was only half focused on the call — the rest of it was watching Dan dial his own call, presumably to Louise, as he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door.

As much as Phil wanted to know what was happening with Dan’s conversation, the separation was probably for the best. Phil was certain that he wouldn’t be able to focus on his own conversation if Dan was still in the room.

Marianne didn’t beat around the bush; there were no pleasantries, no polite inquiries about his trip to the US. Instead, she jumped right into the crux of the drama.

“Phil, I didn’t push you to address the rumors when Dan came out,” Marianne said, her voice stern and leaving no room for discussion. “But you cannot ignore two scandals in a week.”

“I —” Phil started, intending to push back. But even as he pieced together his rebuttal, he knew she was right. His silence would only fuel the rumors, and besides, he felt like he needed to tell his audience something. In the past, he’d always been open about his friends, had always regaled his audience with tales of his travels, had always acknowledged any drama he was dragged into.

Phil sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was definitely going to have to do something publically. “Fine, you’re right. What do you have in mind?”

“The sooner you respond, the better,” Marianne answered immediately, sounding like she’d already thought this through — and she probably had. Unlike Phil, she’d known about this for almost the whole day, not a handful of minutes. “I think you should move your liveshow up to tonight. You should probably start by saying that you’re in New York with Dan, even though that’s well obvious at this point.”

Phil huffed a laugh, but Marianne continued without pausing.

“You can let the picture come up naturally — I’m sure plenty of people will be asking about it. Don’t just answer the first one on a whim though, wait until you find one that you feel comfortable answering. One you think can be a good opening to the topic. And then you can tell your version of the story.”

“Okay,” Phil said slowly, his mind already fast-forwarding to the liveshow, spinning the story different ways and imagining how his audience might respond. Sighing, Phil asked the question he knew Marianne would answer anyway, but that he just wanted out of the way at this point. “I know you have an opinion about what I should say, so let’s hear it,” he mumbled, resigned. At this point, he had no idea what he should do, and he was open to just about any suggestion.

“Of course I do,” Marianne said. Phil bit his lip, waiting with bated breath to hear her assessment. “But,” she continued after a second’s pause, “this isn’t just about your career, it’s your life. And it’s Dan’s life, too. Whatever you say, it needs to be what’s right for the both of you, and I can’t answer that.”

“I — yeah. You’re right. Thanks,” Phil said gratefully before running through the logistics of the liveshow. One of his favorite parts about working with Marianne was that she wasn’t overly controlling, especially when it came to stuff that would actually impact Phil’s personal life.

“So…” Marianne broached tentatively. “Do you think you know what you want to do?”

Phil cast his gaze about the room, his eyes catching on movement from the hallway; the bathroom door was opening and Dan stepped out, one hand aggravatedly rubbing down his face.

“Not yet, Marianne,” Phil answered, his eyes trained on Dan. “I’ll figure it out before I go live tonight, though.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed politely. There was a brief pause before, “Phil?”

“Mmm?” Phil hummed in response, thrown off by the uncharacteristically tentative tone.

Marianne took a deep breath. “Do whatever you think is best,” she said, strong and sure. “You have my full support.”

“Thanks,” Phil murmured, taken aback by the sincerity of the moment — he always had known Marianne cared for him, she’d been his manager for years after all, but their relationship was always based on business. They weren’t like Dan and Louise, they weren’t friends first and professionals second.

The unconditional support, while perhaps surprising, was certainly welcomed.

“I’ll let you know what we decide,” Phil promised softly. After saying goodbye, he hung up and turned to Dan, who was already off the phone with Louise and hovering near the entrance to the bedroom.

Phil tapped his phone against his thigh, his nervous energy needing some outlet. He glanced down and saw that the screen had gone back to the last thing he was looking at before the call came through ��� twitter. “So Marianne wants me to—”

“Do your liveshow tonight,” Dan finished for him swiftly. He moved further into the room, sitting back on his side of the bed. “Yeah, I gathered.”

Turning his attention to his phone, Phil navigated back to his profile. He clicked on the picture and gave it a good, long stare, trying trying to analyze it objectively. Trying to see it through his audience’s eyes.

Trying to decipher his own feelings about it.

“What do I say?” Phil asked, holding his breath. His own indecisiveness aside, he needed to know where Dan’s mind was at. Phil knew Dan hadn’t wanted to get into the specifics with their audiences, but, well, things had clearly changed. And now, Phil had no idea what to expect — he wasn’t sure if Dan would want to hold onto that shred of deniability, or if Dan’s newly-loud bi-pride would mean he’d want to fully embrace the implications of the picture.

At this point, Phil wasn’t even sure how he wanted to handle the picture. Objectively, he knew the most on brand way spin it: find the most platonic, innocent angle and double down, deny any sexual or romantic implications. He didn’t need to say it out loud, didn’t need to hear Marianne say it, to know it was the most AmazingPhil reaction he could muster up.

But even as he played out the fabricated story in his head, he was pretty sure he hated it.

Phil glanced up at Dan, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. For several seconds, the world was silent; it was just Dan biting his bottom lip, his eyes trained on the photo on Phil’s screen, and his face betraying absolutely no indication of what was going through his mind. Finally, his gaze flitted back up to Phil, his eyes clouded and unclear. “That I was drunk and cold and you were taking me back.”

Phil quirked an eyebrow, a million follow-up questions immediately badgering his mind — the same follow up questions that everyone would have. Where were they before? What had they been doing that got Dan drunk? Were other people with them? Was Phil drunk, too? Had this happened before? Were they going back to the same room? Was Dan this touchy with everyone when he was drunk, or was that just Phil?

Dan shrugged but didn’t avert his gaze. “That’s enough of an answer. If people want to assume that back meant to a shared room, fine. If they assume it’s to a different room in the same hotel, fine.”

“Mmm,” Phil hummed noncommittally, just enough to show Dan he was listening.

Dan’s eyes shifted to the desk, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Phil had known Dan long enough to recognize his thinking face, so he waited, swallowing back all the questions he was tempted to ask. Finally, Dan continued, once again meeting Phil’s gaze, a spark of resolution in his eyes. “I don’t want to lie,” he said firmly. “But also, the past few days have been… a lot. Significant. I wanted to… let them stand alone. And my relationships — I’ve always tried to keep my personal life private, but I also haven’t exactly ever been forced to ever own up or deny them.”

Phil nodded slowly. “That’s fair,” he agreed, his words like molasses. He understood Dan’s points, he really did. He was so, so thrilled that Dan didn’t want to hide this relationship — a distinct change from the relationships Dan had described having with other boys (and most girls, for that matter). Nervously, Phil cocked his head. “And, hypothetically, what if I’m forced to confirm or deny?”

It was an entirely unnecessary question, really. Phil was planning to do a liveshow — the audience was always entirely separated from him, there was never a way for them to know for certain which questions Phil had and had not seen. Unless literally every single question was about Dan, Phil’s hand wouldn’t be forced.

But still… Phil wanted to know. He needed to know where Dan stood, where his mind was at right now. So Phil stared at Dan curiously, brow cocked and head tilted, until Dan finally responded.

Once again, Dan shrugged, but this time it wasn’t as… apathetic. This time, it was just… resigned, maybe? Phil couldn’t quite tell; he didn’t like not being able to read Dan’s body language.

“I’m not gonna dictate what you should and shouldn’t say to your audience,” Dan said, lips pursed. “If you feel backed into a corner, say whatever you want. I know you’re not gonna fuck me over.” Dan rubbed his hands over his face, nervous energy lacing the movement. He dropped his hands and looked back at Phil. “Like I said, I don’t wanna lie, but I also don’t wanna make you feel like you have to tell your audience anything in particular.”

“So just to be clear,” Phil started, a smile creeping onto his face and into his voice. “If — for some reason — I have to say yes or no, it’s okay if I say either?”

“Phil.” Dan’s voice was low and uncharacteristically sincere, his pupils blown wide, and his hand twitching like it was fighting back the urge to reach for Phil’s. “I’m having an amazing time with you and I’m...I’m in this... for the long haul,” Dan’s gaze flickered to the side, resting on his black notebook next to his leg. His words were slow and deliberate, like he was carefully selecting each one.

Phil couldn’t tune out the butterflies that were beating against his stomach, and could barely bite back an overly enthusiastic me too.

But Dan ploughed on before Phil could say anything, and maybe that was for the best. “I’m having trouble imagining a world where it’s not eventually completely obvious what you are to me, so...” Phil’s mind jumped to all the possible whys behind that statement; he couldn’t help it. Dan’s lyrics and album theme flashed through his mind, but so did Dan’s instagram posts and flirty tweets.

Dan’s eyes finally shifted back to Phil’s, determined, tenacious. “So I’d rather not lie,” Dan said, sure and confident. “If they know something for certain, I’d rather it be the truth. Because I don’t want to spend the rest of — of —”

Dan’s gaze dropped again, and Phil bit his lips, holding back a smile as he imagined what the rest of Dan’s sentence might be, what it might mean. Everything Dan had said today seemed half shared, just a small portion of what Dan seemed to want to say. Phil didn’t want to be overly presumptuous, to pretend he knew what Dan was thinking, but he felt confident in his guesses to the end of at least a few of Dan’s sentences.

Dan opened and closed his mouth, over and over, not speaking. Finally, he sighed, and Phil expected him to say something, anything, concrete — more because Dan was strong willed, and less because Phil couldn’t predict what he might be thinking. But instead, Dan rose up off the bed and headed for the bathroom, halting just before the door. Eyes trained on the floor, Dan muttered, “If you have to say something, say whatever you want — I trust you. I’d just prefer it to be the truth.

[devil-in-those-eyes]

Sweetheart part2- Ben Hardy

Hi guys! here is part two! Part three is where it starts to get smutty so strap yourselves in. don't forget to send me thoughts!

Y/N-

           It was weird, having Ben be in the same house as you let alone the same country but it felt amazing to wake up the next day with the sun shinning through, while in your bed with your parents downstairs, rustling in the kitchen.

           The last couple years had been amazing, you truly needed to get away and spread your wings. You became a different person, you were independent and confident but one night in had you feeling like your old self. The old self that had been pushing her way through the last two years. The old self that had been whispering I want to go home. You had been thinking it for a while now, but kept pushing that thought back and repeatedly telling yourself that New York was your home now.

           It wasn’t like you weren’t happy in New York, you loved it. But you missed your parents and siblings more and more and phone calls and facetimes just weren’t cutting it anymore. If you listened close enough, breathed quietly and stayed still, you could hear your mum and dad in the kitchen, preparing for the next couple days of birthdays and a wedding anniversary, you could hear them speaking to one another. You couldn’t make out actual words, just distant voices. Your heart stilled in your chest when you heard Ben and Matt talking somewhere downstairs.

You sighed and curled further into your pillow but then heard another voice and it made you smile. It also made you jump out of bed and rushing out of your room, despite being dressed in a college sweater and cute little cloth shorts you ran down the stairs and found everyone in the kitchen and a familiar head of hair.

           “You’re here!” you exclaimed and watched as your brother and sister turn towards you.

           Val immediately smiled and pushed Matt out of the way, both of you rushing towards each other for a hug. “You’re home!” Val yelled out happily as you both squeezed the hell out of one another.

           You and Val spoke basically every day. She was the first person you called for everything, from telling her about your first night in the states to telling her about your first date with an American all the way to when you got a real adult job. You and Val had been inseparable all your lives and no ocean could keep you two apart. Sure, you and Matt were close because of the close age difference but there was nothing quite like a sister bond.

           You both pulled back and she smiled at you, “How was your flight, you never called when you landed.”

           “Heathrow is a mess, and I knew I’d see you.” You shrugged.

           “How come Val gets a greeting like that and all I got was a smile and half assed hug?” Matt questioned from his spot behind Val.

           You and Val rolled your eyes and she turned to face you with a smile, “Are we still going shopping? Grab some food? Get day drunk?”

           “Girls,” your mother scolded, missing the way Val’s eyebrows wiggled mischievously before she turned to face her with mock innocence.

           “Yes?”

           You smiled at your mum, wearing the same smile as your sister. You both tilting your heads to the side at the same time.

           “It’s scary how much you girls act like twins.” Ben chuckled, the sound was deep and caused your stomach to quiver from the inside. You and Val turned to look at him, almost forgetting that Ben was there. He smirked over the rim of his cup as Matt leaned towards him while they watched the two of you.

           “Twins.” Matt and Ben whispered to each other before they burst out laughing.

           You rolled your eyes and looked at Val, “I need to spend some money and day drink.”

           Val bounced on the ball of her feet with a smile, “Let me change and we’ll go out.”

           “Wait, why don’t Ben and I join you?” Matt asked and looked towards Ben, who began nodding.

           “I could do with getting day drunk.”

           “Uh,” Val started followed by you who said, “you guys don’t want to spend the day with us.”

           Ben smirked behind the rim of his cup, one that was lost on Val and Matt but not by you. Matt was the one to look at you girls with a shrug, “Not gonna pass up the chance to spend the day with my sisters.” He looked at Ben, “you in, Benny-boy?”

           “Let’s get ready to go.”

           Val faced you and raised her eyebrows, giving a silent big sigh, before both of you headed towards your rooms. “I tried,” Val whispered to you before you walked into your separate rooms to change.

           Over an hour later all four of you were walking through the mall, you had already discussed on what you would be having for a late lunch and where you guys would be day drinking to kick off all the festivities began tomorrow with a family cookout. The four of you were walking around, stopping in a store every once and a while to do some shopping, when you came across a jewelry store.

           You tugged on Val’s hand and she stared at you in confusion, “I didn’t get mum a present.”

           Val’s eyebrows lifted, “You haven’t gotten her a present?”

           “No,” you shook your head as the two dimwits known as Matt and Ben joined you.

           “Val, Burberry is right there.” Matt nodded his head over you and Val.

           Val looked at you, “Matty and I need to hit up Burberry.. Get her a present and meet us there.”

           “I’ll stay with Y/N,” Ben replied as Matt and Val started to slowly back away from you two.

           “You really don’t have too.” You argued, looking to your side and at Ben.

           Ben ignored you and nodded at your brother, “We’ll catch up with you two in a bit.”

           You sighed as Val and Matt walked away. Val casting a sympathetic look over her shoulder, because she was fully aware of what went down between the two of you, but Matt was completely oblivious. “Not like you need to watch over me.” you grumbled before heading into the jewelry store.

           “Not doing it to babysit you.” Ben answered as he followed closely behind you as you looked at all the pretty necklaces and bracelets. “You’re doing everything you can to keep me at arms length, so this is me doing everything I can to get some time with you.”

           Your heart stopped inside your chest as you paused to look at a pretty bracelet. Ben came to stand behind you, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his body as his chest just barely brushing against your back. “Besides,” he whispered, “I’d rather follow you around some jewelry store instead of Burberry, sweetheart.”

           You whipped around to face him, feeling an annoying coil in the pit of your stomach at the sound of it roll off of his tongue. It was so smooth and perfect, like it belonged there and it pissed you off. “Stop it.”

           He smirked and his green eyes shined brightly at you. “I’d rather not. I quite like the way it gets to you.”

           “It isn’t getting to me,” you lied.

           His green eyes flickered down to your mouth, still wearing a stupid smirk. He stepped towards you, brushing his fingers against yours as they rested on the case. He looked back into your eyes, “It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s getting to me too.”

           “Ben,” you whispered, wondering how you found yourself in the situation again. When his fingers brushed against the back of your hand, it caused a pretty shiver to race up your spine, waking you up from the trance he had you in. You breathed deeply and found the earrings, knowing your mum would wear earrings more than a necklace or bracelet. “Don’t you have some girl back in London? Met her on some dating website?” you tried to sound nonchalant, as if it didn’t bother you that he turned to dating websites.

           You’d be wrong to think that your itty-bitty almost meaningless fling with Ben would have stumped him from dating someone else. You knew he had dated some girl a couple months after you and stayed with her for years, it was in that period that you convinced yourself you stopped caring and feeling for him. It wasn’t until Val and your best friend told you that he was on dating apps that you felt a slight sting of jealousy and ever since then you had buried that jealousy.

           “I haven’t been dating anyone for a while.” Ben replied, following you as you pointed out a pair at a worker. “What about you? Any boyfriends in the states?”

           “I’ll take them,” you said to the worker with a smile, knowing your mum would love the diamond stud earrings. As you paid for them, with Ben behind you, you answered, “It shouldn’t matter to you.”

           “Well, it does.” Ben answered as you walked out of the store. He touched your hand and stepped in front of you, “We should talk about it, love.”

           “It was years ago,” you answered. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

           “Well, I want too.” He argued.

           “Guys!” Your sister called out, pulling Ben away from you. You looked at your sister as Matt held his hands out, “what’s taken you so long?”

           “Nothing,” you answered immediately and left Ben standing there. “Let’s go drink.”

           The next day everyone was at your house for the cookout that would kick off the next week and a half fill of festivities. Today was the beginning of the two birthdays, for you and your mum, then the final party was the big wedding anniversary for your parents.

           You were so beyond excited to see everyone, having not seen any of your family members in years, but you were more excited to see all the little ones that your cousins had started to push out. You and your older sister were sitting in the backyard, watching all the kids play football in the hot summer sun, while everyone was scattered around. Matt and Ben were somewhere around, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to turn around and find him.

           He had been bothering you all morning and afternoon, showing up randomly and trying to get in on the conversations you were having but you were always able to sneak away. You didn’t get why he was trying to sneak under your skin, what would it bring him? What would he gain out of it? Your annoyance? Because you would never be able to trust him again, you’d never be able to be friendly with him.

           “So… Ben, huh?” Your sister breathed as you both nursed some fruity drink your aunt had made.

           “Yes?” You asked, squinting to look at her through your sunglasses, wondering where she was going with this conversation.

           She sipped on her drink and shrugged, relaxing into the lawn chair she was sitting in. Even though there was ten years between the two of you, she was still your best friend and sister. She knew things that you could never tell Matt, even though you and Matt only had a year apart, there were just some things you could never tell a brother. Such as sleeping with his best friend and him sneaking you out of your house and being your designated driver whenever you wanted to drink.

           “He looks good, gotten much sexier over the years.”

           You kept silent, looking ahead and watching your fourteen year old second cousin play football with a couple of the younger kids. You and your siblings were more like aunts and uncles than cousins, but you hadn’t seen Chris since he were eight and now he was almost your height and a really killer football player.

           “You wouldn’t agree?” Val pressed.

           “What’re you getting at, Val?” You asked back, turning your head to look at her.

           “Just that he’s still looking at you like when you two were kids.” Val said from over the rim of her glass, smirking your way and noticing the slightly flush in your cheeks.

           “We were kids, nothing more.” You said, trying to shut down her hidden meaning behind her words.

           “So, you’re telling me you really don’t see it?”

           “No, I don’t!” you exasperated and tilted your head, “Val, do we really have to talk about him, because I’d rather not remember the way he made me feel afterwards.”

           You watched the playfulness slowly slide off her face as she looked away from you. She grumbled unhappily as she stared into the big backyard, “Still don’t get how he could have acted like that towards you.”

           Your shrugged just as Chris turned towards you and wiped the sweat from his forehead, “Hey, old lady! I heard you played football, you any good?”

           You noticed he was staring at you. You pointed to yourself, “Are you calling me old lady?”

           He grinned and nodded. You stood up, still in shock he called you old even though he was only thirteen years younger. “You did not just call me old lady.”

           He grinned, “Oh, I did, Y/N. What ya gonna do about it?”

           “Kick your ass,” you retorted, giving your glass to your sister and kicking off your sandals.

           He raised his eyebrows, “Barefoot?”

           You made your way towards him as the littler kids ran off the makeshift football field Matt had helped Chris map out earlier in the day. All three of you had played football, but your sister soon learned she didn’t care for being active like that and Matt gave up during secondary school. You loved it. You still watched it on the telly whenever you had the chance, and you missed playing it. The sport was how you and Ben really bonded because he loved playing it as well, he used to give you pointers on how to get better, how to be faster.  

           “Y/N, be careful! He’s only fourteen!” His mom, your cousin, called out from her spot on the back porch.

           You rolled your eyes, “He’ll be fine.”

           “Honey, she plays rough!”

           You looked at Chris and shrugged, “I had an older brother and his best friend played dirty.”

           “Rough is the only way to get it done anyways,” Chris shrugged, siding with you.

           Chris kicked the ball to you while you fluffed your shirt out, so it was no longer tucked into your white shorts. You pushed your hair off of shoulders while he said, “Don’t go easy on me, old lady.”

           You clenched your jaw, trying to hide the amused smile. You were going to kick the overconfident tone right out of him. “First to reach five?” He nodded in response and you started the game.

           It had been five years since you played football, having stopped when you went to UNI in the states, but it came back easily to you. It was a lot of teasing him with the ball, dribbling and faking the different passes. He was younger than you, but you had the experience on him. You scored. He stole the ball from you and scored. It went like that for a while. You admitted he was good, but you were no where near done.

Somewhere down the line, and without you knowing, Ben took the spot beside your sister, holding the cold beer in his hands and keeping his eyes on you. As he watched the game, he chatted idly with your sister, both of them not really paying attention because he couldn’t look away from you. He almost forgot how much he loved watching you play, because it had been that long since he last saw you, but as he sat with your sister he had a reason to stare at you that wouldn’t warrant questions by prying eyes. Such as Val and Matt.

           “She’s still got it, yeah?” Val said to Ben, smiling as you scored again, causing Chris to huff unhappily.

           “Hard to lose crazy talent.” Ben replied softly, sipping his beer and putting his elbows on his knees. “She should’ve continued through uni.”

The game continued on for what felt like forever, both because talented feet kept it going. It wasn’t until he accidentally tripped you, your feet getting tangled, that you were able to take a deep breath. You heard his mum’s gasp as you both rolled around in the grass. It wasn’t a harsh trip, not something that would keep you from playing, maybe a bruise on your leg, but nothing to whine over.

           “Two left feet, buddy?” You asked, laughing and pushing yourself off of the ground.

           “Y/N, for God’s sake! You’re wearing white shorts. Do you not realize how hard it is to get grass stains out!” Your mum yelled out in annoyance.

           “It’s four to three, mum, calm down!” You called back, hanging your hands on your hips and breathing deeply.

           You glanced at Chris to see him pressing his hands into his knees, breathing heavily. “Ready to accept defeat?” You asked him.

           “Fuck no,”

           “Christopher!” His mum scolded and you smirked at him.

           “Shut up, Y/N,” he grumbled.

           “Sweetheart, go easy on the poor lad!”

           Your head whipped around to find him watching the small game between the two of you as he sat beside your sister with a beer in his hand. “Ben, help me out here!” Chris called out.

           “Excuse me?” You exclaimed. “Two on one? That’s not fair!”

           “And you’re winning!” Chris exclaimed back and held an open palm towards Ben, “He can help even the playing field!”

           “Scared of losing, sweetheart?” Ben asked, getting up from his spot and putting his beer on the ground. You looked his way, almost glaring from the pet name that rolled off of his lips because he was doing it on purpose, and watched as he strode towards you barefoot and in light jeans and a light blue top, showing off his bright green eyes and blonde hair.

           “You play dirty,” you narrowed your eyes in at him as Chris pushed the ball towards you while on his side of the field.

           Ben smirked down at you, lifting his shirt and putting his hands on his hips. “So do you, babe.”

TAGLIST:

@luvborhap @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @jazzman-19 @manuosorioh @bellamy1998 @thessxoxo @bubblypenguin123 @groovyhoundsoulbiscuit @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @orchideax @mrsmazzello @quirkydeaky

[sofhyuck]

Teach or Be Taught

Genre: elementary school teacher!Jaehyun, elementary school teacher!reader, fluff, gender neutral

Word Count: 7.2k

Excerpt: “Here, you can lean on my shoulder. You have like forty-five minutes to take a nap.” He scoots a little closer, supplying you with the maximum amount of comfort he can. You thank him quietly, nuzzling into his side while leaning your head on his shoulder. Jaehyun looks down at you, admiring every eyelash, every freckle, every part of you his eyes can reach. He’s never been in love before, but he swears this is what it feels like.

Masterlist

A/N: I tried a different writing style (which is heavily inspired by @dreaminghaos hi i love your writing style sm I aspire to be like you) bc why not???

Day 1 [8:00 am]

First days are the epitome of all things anxiety inducing. Meeting new people, trying to make said new people like you, all while in a new environment: any anti-social person’s worst nightmare. Every first day of school nerves never failed to bubble up in your throat, palms growing sweaty from mild fear. And, right at this moment, you feel as though your heart is going to fall out of your ass. You know this is what you’ve been waiting for, spending years at uni to work yourself up to that coveted teaching certificate. Now, you have that certificate as well as a job to go with it. Speaking of which…

You’re stood in front of the entryway, wringing your hands together, unable to shake yourself free of your anxieties. The door opened, revealing a tall middle aged woman who beckons you over. Slowly you make your way over, wiping your dampened hands on the front of your pants.

“Are you the new second grade teacher?” She inquires, looking you over.

“Ah, yes. My name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You give her a small bow.

“You’re here bright and early, aren’t you? Come on, I’ll show you to your classroom!” She smiles brightly, holding the door open wider to usher you inside. “I’m Han Ana, Mrs. Han to the kids. I’ve been teaching the fourth grade here for about twenty years now.”

You balk at her revelation, feeling like a child next to her. She leads you through the halls, chatting happily about the school before stopping in front of a room.

“Here, room 202 is all yours. You can situate yourself for now, but there’s an all staff meeting in twenty before the kids get here. It’ll be in the staff lounge downstairs. If you need any help I’m right down the hall in 204!” She leaves you at your classroom and you make your way inside. It’s your typical classroom, small desks in rows with one larger sat in the front. You place your bag and laptop on the front desk and open the shades covering the windows. Sunlight bursts throughout the room as you make your way around, inspecting every inch while rearranging desks where needed.

[8:18 am]

You glance up at the clock, only to find that you have less than two minutes to make it to the staff meeting. You race out the door, nearly falling down the stairs before you finally make it to the lounge. Every pair of eyes is on you as soon as you enter and you flush, ducking your head and sitting down next to Ana at one of the many round tables placed precariously around the room.

The staff meeting doesn’t last very long and you’re left with a good half hour before you need to get back to your classroom. Unsure as to what you should do next, you glance nervously around the table you’re sat at. All the unfamiliar faces make your head spin, each of them in their own conversations. Just as you’re about to get up and leave, Ana perks up.

“Oh, right! This is our new teacher, Y/n! They’re taking over for Mr. Park.”

“Thank god, that old man was really getting on my nerves.” A voice pipes up from across the table, pulling laughter from your coworkers.

“You look rather young, Y/n, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four. Just graduated a few months ago.” You flush as everyone gawks at you.

“Looks like you’re no longer our youngest teacher, Jaehyun. Think you’re ok with that?”

“I can live with it.” A deep voice chuckles a few seats away from you, and you turn to find the source. His eyes are already on yours and he greets you with a kind smile. “I’m Jung Jaehyun, previous youngest staff in the school. I’m also teaching the second grade.” You give him a soft smile in return, cheeks flushed slightly at his attention.

“It must be nice to finally have someone around your age, Jaehyun. I bet it can be tiring to hang around us old geezers all the time.” Ana pipes up.

“Ahhh, you guys aren’t so bad.” He teased, dimples poking at his cheeks. “But I’m excited to get to know our new addition.”

“We should probably head back to our classrooms. The kids should be arriving in about ten minutes now.” You stand up with everyone else, following them out the door. You feel a light nudge to your left, and turn to find Jaehyun walking beside you.

“What room are you in, newbie?”

“202. What about you?”

“Ah, damn I’m down here in 110. I was hoping we’d be on the same floor. Oh well, guess I’ll see you at lunch.” He grins before turning the corner, leaving you with a parting wave.

[11:50 am]

You’re exhausted yet probably the happiest you’ve ever been. Your students are absolutely adorable and seem to get along as well. The morning was filled with name games and little get-to-know-yous. Now, as you walk your students in a single file line to the cafeteria, you’re sure that you know all of their names by heart. They wave goodbye once they’re settled in the cafeteria and you make your way towards the staff lounge. Upon entering, you scan the room to find Jaehyun sat at a table in the center of the room. His gaze lifts from his lunchbox to rest on you and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You give him a short wave, going to grab your lunch from the refrigerator before sitting beside him.

“How are your kids? Any trouble makers?” He probes once you’re comfortably seated.

“Oh, they’re all so wonderful! I can already tell this year is going to be amazing!”

“That’s great! I knew as soon as I saw you that your students would love you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You flush, feeling small under his gaze.

“I mean, you just have this air of comfort about you? Plus, the kids always take better to a pretty face.” Your blush only deepens and you laugh nervously, gaze shifting to your lunch.

“What about you, Jaehyun? How long have you been working here?”

“This is my fourth year.” He hums happily, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve never had any issues with my students, although I do get a few proposals every year.”

“I’m not surprised.” You laugh, shovelling rice into your mouth. Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing at his lips.

“I think you might give me some competition for most marriage proposals.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see. Although i’m not sure that’s a title we should fight for.”

“It’s nothing but a friendly competition, Y/n.”  You shake your head, smiling slightly while packing up your lunch.

“I’ll see you later Jaehyun.”

“See ya!” He gives you a small nod, turning back to his lunch.

Day 6 [7:00 pm]

Jaehyun oftentimes wonders how and why he’s friends with the idiotic group of children he considers his closest friends. But now, sat on the floor of Doyoung’s nearly empty apartment with cookie crumbs covering the front of his shirt, he understands that he himself is one of those children.

“Hyung, I thought you were supposed to be mildly more responsible than the rest of us. It’s been like, what, a week since you moved in and you’re still not done unpacking?” Mark snickers from beside Jaehyun.

“Some of us have actual jobs that require them to be available most of the time, Mark.” Doyoung quips back, shoving the younger at the back of his head.

“Dude you can literally ask any of us for help, you know that right?” Johnny chimes in.

“Like I’d let any of you touch my belongings. Besides, you guys won’t know where to put anything.”

“Oh ye of little faith. Come on, why don’t we help right now!”

“Hold up.” Jaehyun sits straight up, brushing the crumbs from his shirt. “This is not what I agreed to! I’m exhausted from dealing with the kids all week, I don’t need any more exertion.”

Mumbles of agreement chime from around the room, Doyoung physically relaxing knowing that his belongings are no longer at risk of being tampered with; at least for now, that is. Jaehyun reaches for the pack of chocolate chip cookies in Sicheng’s grasp, nearly having to wrestle it out of his greedy hands. Sicheng finally releases the pack, causing Jaehyun to fall back on his ass earning a chorus of laughter from his friends.

“How are the kids this year anyways, Jae? Any wedding bells ringing?”

“Not yet, Tae.” He chuckles.

“Didn’t you mention that you were getting a new teacher?”

“Yea replacing that old asshole, right?”

“Ah, yea, they’re our new youngest staff member.” Jaehyun revealed.

“Ooooh are they cute?”

“They must be. Look! His ears are turning red!” The room once again erupts into laughter at the expense of Jaehyun. He looks around, gaze settling on a paper book that he then throws at whoever’s closest.

“Ow, c’mon man.” Yuta mumbles, rubbing his stomach.

“We’re just teasing you dude. I mean, it’s been like four years since you last dated someone, it’s about time you got back into the game.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes in response, digging through the nearly empty pack of cookies in hopes of distracting himself. So what if he had been single for awhile? What was it that people said, married to your job? In fact, his last relationship ended right after he got his current job, something about him constantly smelling like baby powder now. Since then, he hasn’t really bothered to start a new relationship. Out of the odd single mother or father, Jaehyun doesn’t really come across people his age. He traded that part of his life to be surrounded by seven to eight year old children instead.

“Do you have a picture of them?”

“Uh, maybe, hold on a sec.” Jaehyun opens his photo app only to be faced with the picture of you that he most definitely had not been smiling at on his way over to Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a picture of you when you were on recess duty together. The two of you had been stood talking to one another, both keeping an eye on the children, when one of your students had ran over and tugged lightly on the side of your pants. You had immediately knelt down to be eye level with the child, asking her what was wrong. Blushing, the girl brought out a flower from behind her back, holding it out to you. You smiled gratefully and reached out to take the gift from her small hands. Jaehyun couldn’t help himself and immediately pulled out his phone, snapping a quick picture before turning away, feigning innocence. You had caught him, of course, and immediately demanded he send the picture to you.

“Hmmm, yea they’re cute.” Mark’s voice sounds directly next to Jaehyun’s ear. The boy cranes his neck to look over the elder’s shoulder for a peak at his phone screen.

“Oi, back off.” Jaehyun nudges Mark, turning his phone to show the rest of the group the photo. They hum in approval, a few exchanging nods and giving Jaehyun a sly thumbs up. Jaehyun feels his ears burn and he quickly snatches his phone back.

“Have you made a move yet?”

“Knowing our Jaehyun he probably already has.”

“Leave me aloooone.” Jaehyun whines, fully prepared to throw another book at the group.

“Sorry Jae, it’s just so fun to see you ears turn red. It’s so rare that we get to see you all flustered.”

“You’re not helping Johnny.”

“I know.”

Jaehyun decides that he really needs new friends who aren’t mentally, or physically, seven years old.

Day 33 [10:00 am]

A knock sounds at your classroom door, causing you to halt your current lesson. Your students immediately begin tittering amongst each other as you walk over to open the door, revealing a bashful Jaehyun stood in your doorway. You can hear your students shuffling in their seats, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever is at the door.

“Hey Y/n, I was wondering if you had any extra white board markers? My last one just ran out in the middle of class and I’ve been meaning to buy new ones but I keep forgetting.”

“Sure, Jaehyun, give me a second.” Jaehyun follows you into your classroom, a chorus of “ooooh’s” from your students echoing around the room. You immediately shush them, flushing at their teasing. You reach into your desk drawer, pulling out a new marker and handing it to him.

“Thanks, Y/n.” He smiles, the classroom again bursting with teasing sounds and you usher Jaehyun out the door. It takes you almost five minutes to calm down the kids, although they continue to bring up Mr. Jung until the lunch bell rings. Once you drop the class off at the cafeteria, you heave a sigh of relief, happy to be free of their taunting. Jaehyun greets you in the staff’s lounge, sliding a rice cake over to you.

“What’s this for?”

“A little thank you for the new marker.”

“Ah really, it was no problem. But why didn’t you just go to someone on your floor.”

“Why, I wanted to visit you, of course! You’re worth the perilous trek.”

You roll your eyes. “Ah yes, the treacherous single flight of stairs, how brave of you.”

Jaehyun points his chopsticks at you, dropping a piece of chicken in the process. “Hey, you never know when you could trip and injure yourself. People fall and break their necks on those death traps all the time.”

“Lovely, Jaehyun. As if I wasn’t already afraid of falling down stairs.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.” He grins, reaching over to pat you on the head. You swat away his hand, ready to reprimand him for messing up your hair when Ana pulls out the chair next to you, calling for both of your attention.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?”

“L-lovebirds?” You choke out, eyes widening at her question.

“Haven’t you heard, you two are the new hot couple of the school.” She giggles, taking a bite out of her egg sandwich. “Even the students are gossiping! My, it’s so exciting, we haven’t had a school couple since Suzy and Haseul left.”

“We - I mean we’re not a couple…”

“Oh but you will be soon, I call it.”

Jaehyun, noticing your discomfort, cuts her off. “C’mon Ana, give it a rest for now. We’re just trying to eat our lunch in peace.”

She raises her arms in surrender, returning her focus back to her sandwich, voicing her complaints to the room. “I swear, the school lunches just seem to be worsening every year, more and more parents are making lunches for their kids.”

“It’s not that bad, they’re still better than anything my school provided when I was a kid.”

“Hm, little baby Jaehyunie must’ve been so cute.” You tease, pinching his cheeks.

“Ay, come on now.” He whines, ears turning red at your ministrations.

“Well, I better head out now, you kids have fun.” Ana stands up, wiping the crumbs from her hands.

You both bid her farewell, Jaehyun’s fingers tapping a soft beat onto your wrist.

“I’m sorry if all that coupley stuff made you uncomfortable. We’re all kind of like a big family here so most of us are used to that kind of teasing. You’ll probably get used to it, but if you ever feel uncomfortable again just let me know, ok?” He gives you a warm smile, his hand now settled over top your own. You smile, thanking him in return.

[3:50 pm]

You’re sat in the entryway to the school, one of your students sat beside you. You’re attempting to distract her, but it’s been twenty minutes since her mother was meant to pick her up and you can tell that she’s growing nervous.

“Mommy’s running a little late, Bora, don’t worry.” You attempt to soothe her, patting her lightly on the head. “Here, I have some markers and paper, why don’t you draw me a picture of your family?” She smiles at your suggestion, nodding happily while reaching for the supplies. You ask her about each figure drawn, attempting to engage her and keep her attention off of her absent mother.

“What are you two still doing out here?” You look up to see Jaehyun stood over you, smiling down at the two of you.

“I’m drawing, Mr. Jung! Look, there’s me and my little brother and my mommy!”

“Wow, you’re quite the artist!” He crouches down in front of you, leaning on your knees to get a better view of her drawings.

“Thank you!” She giggles. “Teacher’s keeping me company while I wait for my mommy to come pick me up.”

“Oh, well that’s very kind of teacher!”

“Yea! Teacher’s the best!” Bora leans over to hug you tightly and you laugh, wrapping your arms around her.

“Yea, they really are.” Jaehyun gazes up at the two of you, completely enamored. Your eyes sparkle in the sunlight, happiness radiating off of you.

“Mr. Jung!” Bora cries, poking him in the cheek. Leaning in closer to Jaehyun, she beckons him in closer. He leans in and she cups her hands around her mouth. “Are you and teacher dating?” She questions in a poor attempt at a whisper.

“No, Bora, at least not yet.” He whispers.

“But I want to marry you Mr. Jung.” She pouts.

“Maybe in a few years, ok?’ He chuckles. He grins up at you slyly, holding up two fingers. His second confession.

“Bora, baby I am so sorry, traffic was terrible!” A young woman comes rushing over to you, immediately sweeping her child into her arms.

“That’s ok mommy! Teacher and Mr. Jung kept me company.”

Her mother turns to face you, relief evident on her face. “Thank you so much for taking care of Bora, and I’m sorry for being so late.”

“That’s ok!” You smiled. “Just give me a call next time, you should have my number.”

“Right, of course, again I’m so sorry. I’ll be on time from now on.”

“Have nice night, ma’am! Bora, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye teacher! Bye Mr. Jung!”

Jaehyun gets up from his spot on the ground to stand beside you, both of you waving goodbye to the little girl. He can’t help but to gaze at you, heart practically on his sleeve. The way you treat your students so kindly, always sure to show them affection all while keeping an appropriately firm hand.

“Looks like we can go home—”

“Do you want to get something for dinner—” You both speak at the same time, laughing following shortly after.

“Isn’t it too early for dinner?” You question, checking the time on your phone.

“Factor in travel time plus walking around a little, we’ll find a restaurant right before the dinner rush.” Figuring why not? you nod in agreement, heading back inside to gather your belongings.

[4:45 pm]

So, maybe it is still a little too early to have dinner. And by a little too early you mean almost a full hour before you normally would eat. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind, however, happily pulling you along the fairly empty streets. You look upon him fondly, following him wherever he goes. Not that you had much choice considering how firmly his hand grasps yours.

It’s inevitable, the way your heart flutters whenever his gaze locks with yours. Sure, the boys you had met in the past were attractive, but Jaehyun’s pure beauty is utterly incomparable. Not to mention his affinity with children and all around gentille manner. If you were being completely honest, Jaehyun is your ideal man, and he’s practically fallen right into your lap. Now if only you could act upon your feelings…

“How about chicken and beer?” Jaehyun suggests, stopping in front of a restaurant.

“Jae, it’s still so early, I’m barely hungry!”

“Fine, why don’t we get takeout instead and then head back to my apartment?”

“Hmmm, trying to get me all to yourself Mr. Jung?”

“Oh god Y/n, please don’t call me that.” He laughs, pulling you inside the restaurant. “Now come on, what do you want to order?”

[5:30 pm]

Jaehyun’s apartment is almost excruciatingly neat, something you honestly didn’t expect from the boy. His classroom is almost always in a state of disarray, a trait you had assumed translated over into his home life. Instead, you’re faced with pristine white walls, not a single book out of place, all stacked neatly on the shelves lining the walls. Your shoes are lined up in the entryway, inked drawings hanging around the apartment. You’re stood gazing at one of said drawings when Jaehyun comes to stand behind you after placing your food on the counter.

“These are all done by my friend Taeyong.” He hums, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“He’s quite talented, does he do commissions?”

“Oh definitely, I bet I could even get you a discount!”

You laugh, pulling him back over to the counter. He grabs some plates from his cabinets as you unload the chicken. Each plate is decorated with a floral design around the brim, a fact you’re sure to take note of. You take a bite of chicken, humming at the savory taste. Meanwhile, Jaehyun’s hands are getting sweaty. It has been so long since Jaehyun dated someone, let alone invited someone over to his apartment who wasn’t a part of his friend group. Especially someone he held such a strong attraction to. He found himself unable to meet your gaze, quite the 180 from his usually confident demeanor.

“Jaehyun, did you know that your ears turn red fairly easily?”

Jaehyun immediately drops his chopsticks, bringing his hands to cover his ears. Of course his ears are red, they always are around you. You laugh at his reaction, muttering a soft cute  as you turn back to your chicken.

“I’m not cute,” he pouts, “I’m extremely handsome.”

“You can be both, Jae. In fact, you are.” Jaehyun’s hands are still over his ears, fully aware that they’ve only grown redder. “Eat your chicken, it’s gonna grow cold.”

Day 76 [8:30 am]

“Oh, Jaehyun! Just the teacher I’ve been looking for!” Jaehyun abruptly stops his conversation with one of the third grade teachers. He smiles, turning to face you.

“What’s up?”

“I’m trying to take the kids on a field trip to the science museum but the principal told me I need another teacher to come with me since I’m new. I was hoping you’d be ok with coming along. Our classes get along well too.”

Jaehyun thinks it’s rather odd that the principal is requiring you to bring another teacher along. He didn’t have to do that during his first year. He chooses to shrug it off for now, exchanging his confusion for relief. Thank god you were comfortable enough around him to ask for his help.

“I’d be glad to! I take my classes there every year anyways.”

“Oh, thank you so much, you’re a real lifesaver!”

“Of course, we can discuss the details later at lunch today, yea?

You give him a quick hug before dashing off to your classroom.

“Aren’t you guys dating yet?”

“Not yet.” Jaehyun smiles softly, gazing at your retreating figure.

Day 82 [8:30 am]

The students arrive half an hour earlier than usual so that they have enough time to explore the museum. You and Jaehyun are ushering your students onto the bus, chaperones already assigned and sat with their groups. The final student gets on the bus and you and Jaehyun follow. Considering that there are two classrooms plus chaperones on the bus, there are only two seats left, sat next to one another. Jaehyun allows you to sit first, giving you the window seat, and promptly plops himself down next to you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I heard you got another confession yesterday. What does that make, five?”

“Are you still keeping track of that?” You snort. “I’m not even counting anymore.”

“Of course, I need to keep my status as most popular teacher!”

“Well if you must know, I’ve actually gotten six confessions.”

“I thought you stopped keeping track?” He pokes your side, teasing.

“You’re just jealous I have more confessions than you.” You huff.

“…maybe so.” Jaehyun sits back with a pout. “Just wait a few weeks, I’ll take you over.” He gazes over at you out of the corner of his eye, hoping to have pulled a reaction out of you. You’re already looking at him, smiling stupidly at his sulking figure. Jaehyun’s heart flutters, an almost foreign feeling after going so long without a relationship. If there’s one thing his friends are actually right about, it’s that he doesn’t get out enough. Whenever they ask him to hang out to drink, he opts to stay in, worried that one of his student’s parents might see him. Not an ideal situation, seeing your child’s teacher stumbling around in a drunken stupor. It had happened once during his first year of teaching, and Jaehyun is not about to let that happen again. Thus, he rarely has the ability to meet new people, let alone a potential lover. Then here comes you, the cute new teacher who steals his heart in less than five minutes. Damn his vulnerability.

[12:00 pm]

The students have congregated at the museum cafeteria, slightly exhausted from their morning spent running around the museum but still excited nonetheless. Jaehyun is sat next to you, both of your groups situated around the table. Happy chatter flits around the room, making it hard to hold a proper conversation. Jaehyun is forced to lean into your side so that you are able to hear one another, not that either of you mind. A light tug at the back of his shirt calls for Jaehyun to turn around, one of his students stood behind him.

“What’s up buddy?” He laughs lightly tickling the boy’s stomach. The boy giggles, breaking off into a long winded spiel about how exciting his day has been so far. Jaehyun diligently listens to every word, reacting when necessary and answering all of the boys questions to the best of his ability. You can’t help to gaze fondly at the two of them, heart fluttering at the sight (but then again, when doesn’t your heart flutter when Jaehyun is around).

“You’re my favorite teacher!” The boy finally states, hugging Jaehyun before skipping away. Jaehyun turns to you giving you a pointed look and a smirk.

“That does not count.” You state, rolling your eyes.

“Oh it totally does, this competition is for who’s the favorite teacher and he said I’m his favorite.”

“Yes but we’re only counting confessions.”

“Hey, we never made a rule like that.”

“Fine, I’ll count it. But only because you’ll still be behind me.”

“Only by one.” He teases, leaning over to snatch a piece of meat from your plate. You swat away his hand, Jaehyun laughing jovially in response.

[1:00 pm]

“All right kids, get back with your chaperones, we only have a few more hours left at the museum!” A chorus of groans sound throughout the museum cafeteria, your students not quite yet ready to leave. You round up your own group of kids, counting meticulously to make sure they’re all still present. The students are all fluttering about, fully energized from their lunch. A few have taken to hanging off your legs, giggling madly.

“How much sugar did you monkeys eat?” You laugh, leaning down to gently pry them off. “Come on, don’t you want to go back into the museum? We still haven’t gone to the weather room, I heard there’s a cool lightning exhibit.” Your students immediately let go of your legs, now wanting to explore the museum as soon as possible.

“Y/n!” You look up to see Jaehyun and his group of students coming towards you. “Heard you’re going to the weather room, we haven’t gone either and were hoping we could tag along.”

“I don’t know kids, do we want Mr. Jung to join us, I heard he’s a little smelly.”

“Hey! I am not smelly!”

Your students all giggle, taking great amusement in your back and forth.

“I think we should let them join, teacher! Mr. Jung is really handsome.” Bora sounds, a few of the other students in your group agreeing.

“Alright Mr. Jung, you can join our group but only because you’re so handsome.” You laugh, his ears reddening in embarrassment.

“Wow thank you guys so much.” He grins shyly. “Shall we go?”

You nod, gesturing for your students to follow close behind. Jaehyun sidles up to you, bumping your arm with his.

“Do you really think I’m smelly?” He whispers, half joking but also half worried you’ll say yes.

“Only a little,” you tease, “but, like, not in a bad way.”

“Ayyy, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, like, I guess…”

“I guess…” He repeats, egging you on.  

“You smell nice.” You mumble, face flushed at your confession.

“Cute.” Jaehyun grins. “You smell nice too, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t, but thanks for the affirmation.”

You turn into the weather room, giving your students free reign to walk around while you keep a close eye on them. Jaehyun stations himself across the room so that you have the whole area covered, but that doesn’t keep him from shooting dumb faces at you from time to time.

“Teacher!” One of your students bounds up to you, beckoning for you to crouch down to his height.

“What’s up Taegeun?”

“Is Mr. Jung your boyfriend?” He asks shyly, fiddling with his hands.

“No, why do you ask?”

He perks up at your answer. “Good, because I want to be your boyfriend.” He states proudly, puffing out his chest.

“Hmmm, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

“That’s ok, I can wait.” He says, running back to his group of friends.

You stand back up and make eye contact with Jaehyun. You give him a smirk, holding up seven fingers. He glares back, shaking his head in mock anger at your popularity. You’ve stolen half the school’s hearts, including his own.

[2:35 pm]

The bus is waiting in front of the museum, a few students already sat on the vehicle. You’re standing by the doors, keeping count of the students entering the bus. Ticking off each student as they pass, you finally mark off the last one and make your way onto the bus. Jaehyun gestures for you to sit beside him, scooting over slightly to give you a little more room. You drop down into the seat, exhaustion radiating off of your slumped body.

“The kids tuckered you out, huh?”

“Mmm, just a little.” You hum, eyelids growing heavy.

“Here, you can lean on my shoulder. You have like forty-five minutes to take a nap.” He scoots a little closer, supplying you with the maximum amount of comfort he can. You thank him quietly, nuzzling into his side while leaning your head on his shoulder. Jaehyun looks down at you, admiring every eyelash, every freckle, every part of you his eyes can reach. He’s never been in love before, but he swears this is what it feels like.

Day 97 [9:00 pm]

Another Friday, and Jaehyun once again finds himself sat on Doyoung’s, now fully furnished, apartment. Even though there is a couch, Jaehyun arrived later than everyone else, thus he was left with the floor. His back is flush against the couch and Sicheng’s foot is currently kicking his head.

“Sicheng I’m going to kill you.” He snaps, reaching up to grab the boy’s foot.

“Only if you say you’ll go out with us tonight!”

“You know why I don’t want to!”

“Oh come on, Jae. It happened once years ago, what are the chances it’ll happen again?”

“Well that’s what I thought but look what happened.”

“Dude come on it’s been so long since you went out with us.” Johnny calls out, joining Sicheng in kicking the boy’s side. “Literally just come out with us this one night, we’ll never ask you again.”

Jaehyun hesitates.

“Look, if one of your parent’s sees you we’ll, I don’t know, we’ll pay for your dinner for a month.”

“Wait hold on we’re not agree—”

“Deal.” The thought of being seen by one of his student’s parents is terrifying, yes, but the thought of free dinner for a whole month far outways that potential embarrassment.

[10:00 pm]

Thankfully, his friends choose a more bar-like atmosphere instead of a full fledged club, knowing he probably wouldn’t be up for the high speed environment. There’s loud music playing, various games strewn around the building.

“We’re gonna head over to the pool table, you up for it?”

“I think I’m just gonna hang here for awhile, I’ll catch up with you later.”

A few of his friends head over to the pool table, leaving him at the bar. Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, eyes scanning the room. He’s not really sure what he’s looking for; there’s not really much to find in the mass of sweaty bodies. His gaze travels to his friends making a bit of a scene by the pool table and he chuckles lowly, amused by their idiocy. He quickly looks away, however, because Ten is about to climb over the table, ready to grab Doyoung by the collar. Not a sight he wants to see. Scanning the room, he looks past the seating area, only to do a double take. There, sat on top of one of the many square tables, is a completely inebriated you, head thrown back in laughter at something your friend just said. The ends of his lips curl up in a smile and he observes your figure for a moment. Downing the rest of his drink, he places the empty glass on the bartop and stands to make his way over to you. Your friends must take notice of his towering figure because they all start frantically waving their arms at you, gesturing towards his approaching figure. You look up with a start and, upon seeing him, abruptly climb off the table. He rushes over to you, stabilizing your shaky figure.

“Mr. Jung, I did not expect to see you here. Like, never.” You giggled happily, poking his cheeks.

“Ah, Y/n, how much have you had to drink?”

“You know how many of the kids have confessed to me?” “Yea?”

“That many.”

“Holy shit.” He mumbled, studying your face. He turns to look at your friends who are all not so subtly checking him out. They turn away at his gaze, tittering amongst themselves before he calls for their attention. “Can I steal Y/n away from you guys?”

“Of course!” One of them giggles. “In fact you can steal me away too if you’d like.”

“Sorry, I only need Y/n.” He smiles kindly, already wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you away..

“Keep our baby safe!” They call after your retreating figures.

“Where are we going?” You mutter, clutching onto his bicep.

“We’re going to get some water into your system and then I’m taking you home.”

“Aw c’mon, you should have some fun! I know you haven’t been out since your first year. Have you even had something to drink yet?”

“I have and right now your safety is more important than me having fun.”

“Ayyy, I’m not gonna let you not have fun because of me. Are your friends here? Can I meet them?”

“Y/n I should really be getting you—”

“Ayo Jae, who’s the cutie?”

“Johnny you dumbass that’s that new teacher he’s been pining after.”

Before Jaehyun could steer you away from his rowdy group of friends you break out of his grasp, heading over to the pool table.

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, jogging over to you. Yuta’s already got his arm around you, engaging you in an animate conversation about god knows what. He sighs heavily, pulling you from his friend’s grasp, much to Yuta’s protests.

“Come on let’s get you some water.”

“Jae you can leave ‘em with us while you get the water. We want to get to know your new coworker anyways.” Yuta says with a wink, pulling you back into his side. Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, Jaehyun hurries to get you a glass of water so that he could rescue you from his friends as soon as possible.

Through your haze you barely register the men surrounding you. They chat happily, asking you about work and, most importantly, your relationship with Jaehyun. You don’t take the questions particularly seriously, too drunk to actually pay attention to what they’re saying. An arm wraps around your waist and you turn your head slightly to find Jaehyun holding a glass of water out to you.

“Here, drink.” He commands softly, raising his eyebrows. You part your lips, too hazy to reach out and take the glass. Jaehyun rolls his eyes but brings the glass to your lips nonetheless. Slowly, he tilts it back, examining how your lips close around the rim as your eyes close. Your cheeks are rosy, this time not out of embarrassment, and your hair’s a bit of a mess. Still beautiful, though.

After a few sips your eyelids flutter open, signalling that you’ve had your fill. He lowers the glass, eyes locked, time at a standstill. Slowly, he raises his hand to run a thumb over your bottom lip, teasing at the plump flesh. Before either of you can make a move, Mark stumbles into Jaehyun, pushing him into you in the process. You giggle as Jaehyun attempts to steady you, glaring at the younger.

“Ok, time to get you home.” He says sternly, pulling you away from his friends.

“Ok.” You giggle, waving goodbye cutely. His friends all coo over you and Jaehyun has to keep himself from doing the same. Happy to have finally gotten you out of the vicinity of the bar, Jaehyun quickly hails a cab and pulls you in after him. You situate yourself as close to him as possible, snuggling into his warmth. You’re slightly more sober now although still a little hazy, and Jaehyun is like a walking space heater. A heavy sigh falls past his lips but he still wraps his arm around you, basking in the comfort you provide.

“You gotta wake up now Y/n. We’re at your place.”

You hum sleepily in response, clambering out of the car. Jaehyun practically has to carry you up to your apartment, making sure you drink more water and wash up before you flop onto your bed. Smiling fondly, he pats your head and leaves your apartment. He wonders if you’ll remember anything tomorrow morning.

Day 100 [3:20 pm]

“Ok kids, we’ll have reading time for the last ten minutes.” Your students all rush to pull out their books and you give out a small sigh of relief, happy that you’ll be able to relax. Before you can get too comfortable, however, a knock sounds at the door. Groaning under your breath you stand up to open it. You’re immediately faced with Jaehyun and his entire class.

“What’s this for?” You gasp, stepping back to let them in.

“Do you know how many days it’s been since you started working here?”

“No?”

“100!” He claps excitedly, grabbing a cake from one of his students, a big 100 written in frosting on top. Both your students and his cheer happily, mostly at the sight of the cake but also because of you, and you gladly take the cake, cheeks turning red.

“You have pretty poor timing, Jaehyun,” you whisper into his ear. “The kids have to leave soon and they’re not going to be happy once they find out they won’t get any cake.”

“I know, I was hoping it’d be a boost in my popularity.” He said with a wink.

“You’re the one who brought the cake, we’re both going down with this one.” You say pointedly, poking him in the chest.

Your students intermingle amongst themselves, books long forgotten in all the excitement. After a little chatting the bell rings and your students race out the door. Thankful that they weren’t too upset by the lack of cake, you make your way back to your room only to find Jaehyun already there, cake cut into slices. He holds a plate out to you, gesturing for you to sit on the desk beside him. Gratefully, you take the plate and sit down, digging into the cake.

“Oh my god this is delicious.” You moan, savoring in the taste of the fluffy dessert.

“Mmm, I know right? Paris Baguette really knows what they’re doing.” He hums happily in agreement. “You know, two of my students have confessed to me since the museum.”

“Damn, so we’re tied now huh.” You pout jokingly.

“You’re about to be winning again.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You question, turning to face him.

“I know this is supposed to be a competition and everything, but you’re probably going to win anyways—”

“Hey we’re tied right now—”

“Let me finish ok?” You shut up, letting him finish his mini speech. “As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted,” you roll your eyes at that, “We’re not going to be tied anymore because I’m going to confess to you. Or, well, I am confessing to you.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Oh come on Y/n, it’s obvious we like each other, the whole school has been waiting practically with baited breath for us to get together!”

“No I know all that. I’m just surprised that you’re confessing so early into the year! You were taking this competition so seriously I thought you’d make me be the one to do it.”

“I can’t believe you Y/n.” He scoffs, leaning back on his hands.

“What? A competition’s a competition. Oh well, looks like I’m winning again.” You shrug, turning back to your cake, a teasing grin stuck on your face. Jaehyun sits there for a minute, shocked at your confession. Once you finish your cake, however, Jaehyun gets a brilliant idea. A mischievous smile creeps across his face and you stare at him in mild fear.

“What exactly are you thinking of doi—” You get cut off by Jaehyun shoving the rest of the cake in your face.

“You’re dead Mr. Jung.” Wiping the cake off of your face, you move to wipe it all over his face. But, before you get the chance, Jaehyun places his lips over yours in a deep kiss. Your lips move together in harmony, the kiss slightly sticky from all the cake residue. Eventually, he pulls away, grinning at you with cake crumbs and frosting covering his lips.

“Sweet.” He chuckles, licking his lips. You grab his cheeks with your cake covered hands and smoosh them together.

“Yes,” you laugh, “very.”

[comeback-tomy-home]

The Star Student - Chapter 3

pairing: student Namjoon x professor reader 

genre: university AU, smut, angst, semi-PWP?, dom!Joon

word count: 2.6k

warnings: none in this chapter! mentions of previous indiscretions ;)

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You sat in your office with your head in your hands. It had been forty minutes since Namjoon had left - you’d slumped down into the chair in front of your desk and hadn’t been able to move from your position since then. The sun was sinking behind the red-brick buildings on the opposite side of the courtyard now, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to turn your head and look at the sunset.

What have I done? You chastised yourself. You’d broken a rule you hadn’t even known you had made for yourself and gone too far with one of your students. This was wildly unethical. How could you ever face your class again now, having spent your last tutorial slot of the week getting fingered by one of them? There was no coming back from this - you'd well and truly crossed the line separating you from some of your older colleagues. The line that had been peppered with warning lights and 'Do Not Cross' signs ten feet tall. FUCK! You could feel yourself beginning to spiral and took some deep, calming breaths, focusing on the second hand of the clock on your desk. Was it really that bad? Sure, you had let one of your students bring you to orgasm in your office. But, you reminded yourself, you were both adults. What you had done wasn't illegal or forbidden by the university, just frowned upon. Even if Namjoon told someone (and your stomach clenched at the idea), the most you'd get was a stern talking to from the faculty director and maybe a slap on the wrist. 

When things like this had happened in the past, you'd noticed that the director had a mysterious ability to be conveniently looking the other way as the parties concerned hastened to part ways and return to business as usual. But on previous occasions, it had always been between a student and one of the older academics, whose position at the university seemed to be so secure that nothing short of a seismic event could uproot them. You were far younger, far less established and far more female than any of the others, so you had no idea whether the director would treat you the same way or see you as disposable and make an example of you. What would happen if you were sacked? Could you find another job you loved as much as this one? How would you pay your rent? Okay, stop right there, you thought. One step at a time. It wasn't helpful to freak out over something that might not ever happen, and, you reminded yourself, what was the likelihood Namjoon would spill the beans anyway? He never spoke up in your class, rarely talked to other students as far as you could tell, and was unlikely to risk disruption to his studies, which getting you sacked would definitely bring about. And he came on to me! I didn't ask him to do anything! You felt a bit better when you remembered that he was the one who had instigated the whole thing, not you. You hadn't pursued him, you hadn't flirted, he had come to you and not the other way around. You hadn't even kissed. 

You'd wanted to, though. When he was leaning over you, two fingers deep inside you, you'd wanted him to press his lips against yours before slipping his tongue into your waiting mouth. Maybe biting down on your bottom lip as he rubbed his thumb over your clit, or running his tongue over the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder... Nope. Stop that. You couldn't think about that or you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of finding out whether his lips were really as soft as they looked. This cannot ever happen again, you told yourself firmly. One mistake on one occasion was understandable, you could (eventually) forgive yourself for that, but you couldn't allow your standards to slip again. You couldn't stand the idea of being gossiped about behind your back - it had happened once during your postgraduate study and that had been the most mortifying period of your life, and all that had happened on that occasion was that you’d got someone expelled. Well, you’d caught them plagiarising your research and informed the faculty office - it just so happened that it was the last straw in a series of ‘irregularities’ that led to them getting expelled - but your fellow students hadn’t seen it that way.

You couldn’t sit there forever. You had used Namjoon’s handkerchief to dab your face a little (noting as you did so that it smelled like him) so you took a few more deep breaths to clear your head and made a mental plan for your weekend. Tomorrow was Saturday, so you’d sleep late, make yourself a nice breakfast, put on a face mask and do some housework, and then see if any of your friends were around to meet up after lunch. You had planned to prepare for next week’s classes, but you put that idea out of your mind; you just needed a break from work after what had happened this afternoon. And there had never been a clearer sign that you needed to actually put yourself out there and start going on some real dates with people living outside the university bubble, so you pulled your phone out and downloaded a dating app there and then. You’d fill in your profile later - something like ‘Y/N, twenty-something, likes dogs, ramen and hot Korean students’, you thought miserably. 

Regardless, at some point you’d have to tell Namjoon you’d made a mistake and that there wouldn’t be a repeat of what had happened in your office. That was the kind of conversation you dreaded - the awkwardness, the confrontation of something you’d rather never acknowledge - but it was unavoidable. You had to get through the rest of the year with him in your class, and you couldn’t do that unless you put a stop to whatever...this...was. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, you decided, no point stressing over it now. For the next few days you’d just put him out of your mind and focus on yourself, maybe get your hair done or something, and see if you could meet someone nice on Tinder. 

Friday evening turned into Saturday morning turned into an overcast afternoon, and you were sitting in your favourite cafe with one of your friends who lived nearby, idly chatting and nursing your hot drinks of choice - hot chocolate for her and tea for you (the smell of coffee had reminded you of Friday afternoon and you definitely didn’t want to think about that right now).  ‘I just don’t know whether online dating is worth the hassle, is it?’ you said, dunking your teabag into the hot water and watching the water mix with the bloom of tea. ‘Well, I’m probably a bit biased there,’ said Rosina. You glanced down to her mug, which she was cupping with a hand bedecked by a glittering engagement ring. She had recently got engaged to a man she’d met on a dating site a few years ago (after a false start with some fairly disastrous first dates) and although she’d encouraged you to give online dating a try in the past, she’d mostly given up after your numerous protests that you didn’t have time, you couldn’t be bothered, you wanted to meet someone the old-fashioned way, you were anxious about meeting strangers - the list of excuses you’d tried went on and on.  ‘Come on, Y/N. You’ve been complaining about being single for ages, what harm can it do? I’ll help you set up your profile if you like!’ Rosina grinned and clapped her hands together, and you smiled at her obvious eagerness to play matchmaker.  ‘Alright, fine. I suppose I could let you help me…’ you said, rolling your eyes and throwing up your hands in mock resignation.  ‘Oh thank God, I need something to do other than plan the engagement party. It’s driving me up the wall! Give me your phone,’ Rosina held her hand out expectantly.  ‘Can you chill out please? You’re so desperate to get me a date anyone would mistake you for my mother!’ you laughed, and she pulled a face. ‘Anyway, I wanted to tell you something first.’  ‘Oh yeah?’  ‘Yeah. But you have to swear not to be angry. And don’t laugh at me either. Best not to respond at all, just to be safe.’ 

You looked down at your mug and swirled your teabag around in the water to buy some time. Was it a good idea to tell Rosina? Obviously you trusted her - she’d been your closest friend for years and had been there for you when you were going through expulsion-gate. She’d hugged you and made you dinner when you were too miserable to face your fellow students, and you’d helped her through the last couple of break-ups before she’d met her fiance. But you definitely didn’t want her to worry about you now when she had so much on her plate already, and you knew that telling her what had happened with Namjoon would make her think you were in trouble somehow. On the other hand, you really needed someone to talk to.  ‘Okay Y/N, what’s up? You’re scaring me.’ ‘I-’

At that moment the door of the cafe banged open, making you and Rosina jump in your seats as a gust of wind blew past you. A tall man dressed all in black strode in looking down at his phone. He had golden skin, and his hair was bleached with a lavender tint and immaculately styled.  ‘Oh shit!’ you cursed under your breath and shielded the side of your face with your hand, hoping against hope that the man hadn’t seen you. It had to be Namjoon - you had only caught a glimpse of his face, but you were certain there couldn’t be that many tall, dark and handsome men who could make your heart leap in your chest like that.  ‘What? What?!’ Rosina said loudly, ignoring your frantic hand signals. ‘Y/N, what’s-’ ‘Shut up!’ you hissed. ‘We need to go right now. I’ll explain later,’ you hurriedly scooped your phone and wallet into your coat pocket, wound your scarf around your neck and made sure the man was looking the other way before practically shoving Rosina out of her chair. 

You chanced a look behind you and saw, to your horror, that it was indeed Kim Namjoon in your favourite cafe, giving the boy behind the till a lazy grin which made him blush. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even as you dashed through the open door, mind racing in panic at coming across the very person you were desperate to avoid, and you walked straight into someone just outside who said, ‘Woah! Careful!’ and grabbed your arm to stop you falling over backwards.  ‘God, I’m sorry! Are you okay?’ you blurted, looking up at whoever you’d just bumped into. Oh shit, you thought. He’s gorgeous. 

The stranger was taller than you (but not as tall as Namjoon), with round glasses and thick, dark hair falling over his face, and you couldn’t help noticing how his brown eyes crinkled as he smiled.  ‘Yeah, of course. Don’t worry,’ the stranger said. ‘In a rush, huh?’ ‘Yep! So sorry about that,’ you mumbled. When will I stop embarrassing myself in front of hot guys?  You exchanged another smile (which was rather feeble on your end) and he walked past you into the cafe. You wiped your hand over your face, cursing your clumsiness, and strode off down the street with Rosina beside you.  ‘What the fuck was that about?’ Rosina said hotly. ‘Ugh, I’m really sorry. I’ll buy you another hot chocolate, okay? And I’ll tell you everything.’

Rosina was a good friend, you reflected the next morning. She hadn’t judged you when you’d told her about what had happened with Namjoon, she had just listened carefully and reassured you that everything would be okay. As Rosina had reminded you, the two of you hadn’t done anything wrong, per se, but she had agreed that you had to talk to him sooner rather than later, and do your best to forget about him - though you hadn’t told her everything. You’d spared her the details of what Namjoon had actually done to you in your office, since you weren’t sure she would want to hear about how he’d made you suck on your own fingers while he made you come. A few glasses of wine later and you had your brand-new dating profile ready to go, with some carefully curated photos and an introductory paragraph you’d both written over and over again, trying to strike the perfect balance between self-aware and playful. 

As you lay propped up in bed, sipping your morning tea (you still weren’t ready for your usual coffee), you swiped through your matches idly, pausing now and then to watch the dappled shadows on your wall as the wind blew through the trees outside your window.  Likes birdwatching. Nope. Flexing in front of a mirror in every photo. Nope. Fedora. Definitely nope. You sighed and threw your phone down on your bed, rubbing your eyes wearily. You turned on your laptop and waited for it to boot up; no matter how little you wanted to think about work, you did need to prepare for next week’s classes. It wouldn’t be fair on the other students to give substandard lectures just because you were distracted by Namjoon, and once you’d put a stop to things you were sure you could act like it had never happened and move on - preferably with a date lined up to take your mind off things. 

An hour later, you were updating your module notes for your second-year undergraduates who were about to embark on a series of lectures about the development of modernist sculpture, your tea forgotten on the table beside you when a ping! made your eyes flick up to where your phone lay on your bed. You grabbed your phone and unlocked it to see a notification from the dating app - a new match. This particular candidate’s profile was sparing in detail, but so far was the only one you’d actually been intrigued by; it certainly helped that there was something oddly familiar about him… You paused on one of his photos, trying to think where you knew him from. A friend of a friend? No. A student? Surely not. 

And then it clicked - this was the man you’d bumped into at the coffee shop! His second picture was him in a coat and scarf, with his round glasses slipping down his nose as he laughed. He looked sweet, he’d been friendly when you’d met him - and you nearly running him down trying to get away from Namjoon didn’t seem to have put him off, which as far as you were concerned was a green flag. Assuming he recognised you, that is. You pressed the pink heart icon that would tell him you liked him back after a moment’s pause and quickly put your phone face-down on the bed, as if you were scared he’d somehow be able to see you blushing through the screen. You weren’t going to message him first, you were sure of that, and the likelihood was that he wouldn’t message you either - he was so attractive you were sure he would have his pick of women on the app - but at least you could tell Rosina truthfully that you’d given it a go. 

Now all you had to do was talk to Namjoon and move on with your life, and the sooner you could both put this mess behind you the better.

a/n: alright i guess this is turning into a bit of a plot... no smut this time, but stay tuned for Chapter 4! any ideas who our mystery man might be? as always thank you so much for reading, feedback is welcomed and let me know if you wanna get tagged for future chapters!

tag list: @xxathixx @triviajo0n @knamjooned @solar-princess