#I apologize if the backgrounds a tad bit simple

[bepomepo33]

IM ON A ROLL

(Edit: speed paint below the cut)

[serapharua]

୨୧ 一 &TEAM WITH AN IDOL S/O . . !

&team ot9 — GENRE : imagines headcanon fluff — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : none — REQUESTED : yes. ☆ — &t masterlist

note : i apologize if it’s a tad bit repetitive.

K :

K understood the demands of being an idol better than most. The packed schedules, the pressure to always perform at your best, the scrutiny from the public—it was all something he had experienced firsthand. That’s why, as your boyfriend, he became your biggest supporter while also being the one who made sure you took care of yourself.

He wasn’t the type to shower you with loud praise, but his support was constant and unwavering. Whenever you had a big performance, he’d send you a message beforehand:

You’ve practiced hard. You’re going to do great. Just have fun out there.

And afterward, whether it was a huge award show or just a regular music broadcast, you’d always find another message waiting for you.

Proud of you. Get some rest.

If your schedules overlapped, K was discreet but attentive. He wouldn’t make things obvious, but his gaze would always linger on you during events, checking if you were doing okay. If he saw you looking exhausted, he’d subtly pass you a water bottle or make sure you had space to breathe.

When you were overwhelmed, K didn’t push you to talk about it right away. Instead, he’d pull you into a quiet moment, away from the cameras, the lights, and the expectations. “You don’t have to smile right now,” he’d murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Just be here with me.”

On the rare occasions when you had a break together, K made it a point to keep things simple. No grand gestures, just the kind of peace you both rarely got in your busy lives. A quiet walk, late-night talks with soft music in the background, or just lying on the couch together, no words needed.

“I don’t need to do anything fancy,” he’d say when you apologized for not having much free time together. “I just want to be with you.”

Of course, K had a playful side too. If you ever acted cool and charismatic on stage, he’d tease you about it later. “So that’s how you talk to your fans?” he’d smirk. “Should I start calling you by your stage name too?”

But at the end of the day, he was the one who truly saw you—the version of yourself beyond the spotlight, beyond the idol persona. And no matter how far your career took you, K would always be the steady presence reminding you that, to him, you were just you. And that was more than enough.

FUMA :

Fuma was the perfect mix of supportive and teasing when it came to dating an idol. He admired your talent and dedication, but he never let you take yourself too seriously. While fans saw the confident and charismatic version of you on stage, he was the one who got to see the real you—the one who complained about tight schedules, struggled with choreography, or sent him ridiculous voice notes at 3 a.m.

He was always keeping up with your activities, even if he acted casual about it. He’d be sitting next to you, scrolling on his phone, and suddenly go, “Oh, so you had an interview today? You forgot to mention you called yourself bad at cooking again.”

“You watched that?” you’d ask, grinning.

“I have to keep tabs on you. What if you say something embarrassing?” he teased, ruffling your hair.

But beneath all the joking, Fuma was your biggest supporter. If you had a major performance, he’d watch it no matter where he was. You’d often wake up to texts like:

10/10 performance, as expected. I think I’m your biggest fan.

He’d even stream your songs casually, pretending it was no big deal. But the real kicker? He knew your choreographies. You caught him once, absentmindedly doing part of your chorus while waiting for coffee, and when you called him out, he just smirked. “It’s catchy, okay? You make it look so easy, I wanted to try.”

Whenever you were exhausted from practice or frustrated over small mistakes, Fuma was the first to remind you to be kind to yourself. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time,” he’d say, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You’re already amazing.”

On your rare days off together, he made it a rule to keep things completely stress-free. No work talk, no schedules—just you two doing normal things like binging a show or grabbing food at a quiet place where no one would bother you.

“Bet your fans don’t know you look this cute in sweatpants,” he’d tease as you curled up on the couch.

“Shut up,” you’d laugh, throwing a pillow at him.

At the end of the day, Fuma never let the industry change the way he saw you. No matter how famous you got, to him, you were still the same person—the one he adored, supported, and would always stand by, both on and off the stage.

NICHOLAS :

Nicholas knew what it was like to train, to perform, to constantly be under pressure—so dating you, an idol, was something he naturally understood. He never pried when you were exhausted from schedules, never pushed you to talk when you needed space. Instead, he was just there—a steady, grounding presence in the chaos of the industry.

He never missed a comeback, even if he acted like it wasn’t a big deal. “Oh, your new song dropped? Guess I’ll check it out,” he’d say, scrolling on his phone. But the moment you turned your back, he was watching the MV again, analyzing every detail, silently feeling proud.

He had a habit of catching onto small things before you even said them. If your shoulders slumped after practice, he’d pass you a drink without a word. If you let out a frustrated sigh, he’d casually ask, “Want to rant or do you need a distraction?”

And speaking of distractions—Nicholas was the king of them. If he sensed you overthinking, he’d do something ridiculous just to make you laugh. Like attempting to mimic your choreography with exaggerated movements or suddenly rapping the fanchant to your song in the most monotone voice possible.

“Nicho, stop,” you’d whine, half laughing as he dramatically flailed his arms.

“What? I’m showing my support,” he’d say, smugly continuing.

He never failed to remind you how talented you were, even when you doubted yourself. “You’re you,” he’d say simply, as if that was all that needed to be said. And to him, it really was—because no matter how much pressure the industry threw at you, Nicholas always saw you as more than just an idol. You were his person.

And when you were with him, you weren’t just an idol. You were just you.

EJ :

Dating as idols wasn’t easy, but EJ made it feel effortless. He understood your struggles because he lived them too—early mornings, endless rehearsals, the pressure of always being “on.” But with him, there was always a sense of quiet comfort, like you weren’t going through it alone.

He wasn’t the type to be overly affectionate in public, but behind the scenes, he made sure you knew he cared. If you were exhausted after a long day of schedules, he’d offer you his hoodie without a word. If you had a comeback, he’d casually bring up your song during a live, subtly hyping you up without making it obvious.

“We’ve been listening to a lot of good music lately,” he’d say, glancing at the camera before adding, “Right, guys?” The members would snicker, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Whenever your groups overlapped at music shows, EJ always found a way to check in on you. Whether it was slipping you an extra bottle of water or shooting you a quick thumbs-up before your performance, his presence was a grounding force amidst all the chaos.

Rehearsals were another story. If you practiced in the same building, he’d peek into your studio between breaks, watching you with a small, fond smile. “You work too hard,” he’d say, leaning against the doorframe. “Take a break before I have to drag you out.”

Despite his own busy schedule, he never forgot the little things. If he knew you had an important event coming up, he’d text you before bed:

Don’t overthink it. You’re going to do great.

Also, if you’re nervous, imagine maki doing your choreography. That should help.

Dating EJ meant knowing you had someone who truly understood. Someone who didn’t just admire the idol version of you but loved the person behind it all—the one who got excited over late-night snacks, grumbled about dance practices, and sometimes needed a quiet hand to hold.

And in return, you were always there for him too. Because no matter how hectic things got, you were each other’s safe place.

YUMA :

Yuma was used to living in the spotlight, but dating another idol? That was something he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t the fame or the attention that fazed him—it was the little things, like how difficult it was to find time for each other between packed schedules and constant travel. But somehow, he made it work.

He was always the first to watch your new performances, analyzing every detail like a devoted fan. If you had a comeback, he’d be the one refreshing the charts, texting you updates as if you weren’t already aware.

Yuma: You’re trending. Again.

You: Is that your way of congratulating me?

Yuma: It’s my way of saying you’re killing it, obviously.

Despite his teasing, he was your biggest supporter. He’d secretly learn parts of your choreography just so he could dance along when your songs played. The members caught him more than once practicing your chorus in the mirror, though he’d deny it every time.

“You’ve been humming their song all day,” Fuma pointed out once.

“So?” Yuma said, acting nonchalant. “It’s catchy.”

If your groups promoted at the same time, he’d find every excuse to see you—even if it was just for a few minutes in the hallway. He’d stand beside you during group photos, subtly reaching for your hand when no cameras were looking.

And when the stress of idol life got overwhelming, he always knew how to bring you back down to earth. He’d invite you over to just be, no expectations, no performances—just you and him, wrapped in a blanket, eating snacks while he let you rant about your day.

“You don’t always have to be perfect, you know,” he’d remind you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I love you as you are, not just as the idol everyone sees.”

JO :

Jo might not always be the loudest in the room, but his support for you was as unwavering as it gets. As someone who is soft-spoken and gentle, he expressed his affection through quiet but meaningful gestures. You could always count on him to give you space to shine, but he would never hesitate to step in when you needed him.

When you were preparing for your performances, Jo was your calm in the chaos. Instead of rushing in with words of advice, he’d focus on making sure you were comfortable. If you were feeling stressed, he’d offer a gentle touch on your shoulder or a reassuring smile that made everything feel a little bit easier.

You look amazing. Don’t stress. I know you’ll do great.

He had an uncanny ability to read the mood, knowing when to keep his distance and when to step in. On days you felt overwhelmed, Jo would be your silent strength—standing by your side without demanding attention, just offering his presence, which you always found so soothing. He was great at reading the room too, often noticing when you needed to decompress or just needed a break from everything.

One thing Jo was great at was giving you a sense of normalcy amid the idol world. When you two were alone, he’d pull you into simple activities like watching a random drama, enjoying each other’s company in peace, and even cooking meals together when he could. The moments where you didn’t have to worry about being an idol, and you could just be yourself with him, meant the most.

His gestures of affection were sweet and small. He’d always find little ways to show you he was thinking about you, like leaving a post-it note on your mirror with something sweet or bringing you your favorite snacks without being asked. And when you were about to leave for a schedule, he would always take a moment to give you a soft hug or a gentle kiss on the cheek, making sure you knew how much he cherished you.

Jo might not have been the flashiest boyfriend, but his love was steady and constant. He had a knack for making you feel like you were the most important thing in his world, even on the busiest of days.

HARUA :

Dating Harua felt like having your own personal safe space amid the chaos of the idol industry. He wasn’t flashy about his support, but you always knew he was there—quietly cheering you on, paying attention to every little detail, and making sure you never felt alone in your journey.

Whenever you had a comeback, he’d be the first to watch your performance, his eyes glued to the screen as he took in every move, every expression. He wasn’t the type to bombard you with messages, but he’d send something sweet after every stage.

Harua: You looked amazing today

You: You say that everyday

Harua: Because it’s always true

If your groups promoted at the same time, he’d steal glances at you from across the room during music show rehearsals, his gaze soft but filled with pride. And if you passed by each other in the hallways, he’d give you the smallest, most subtle wave—nothing that would attract attention, but enough to let you know he saw you.

Whenever you were stressed, Harua had a way of making everything feel lighter. He’d invite you over for a quiet night in, playing soft music while you both just relaxed in each other’s company. No pressure, no expectations—just him letting you breathe.

“You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time,” he’d remind you, his voice gentle as he laced his fingers with yours. “It’s okay to just be you.”

And when you were apart for long stretches, he’d send you little reminders of his presence—random photos of things that reminded him of you, or a simple “Take care of yourself, okay?” message that somehow always arrived when you needed it most.

With Harua, love wasn’t loud or overwhelming. It was steady, constant—like a quiet melody that played in the background of your busiest days, reminding you that no matter how hectic life got, you always had him waiting for you.

TAKI :

Taki was the kind of boyfriend who always made sure you knew how much he cared. Being in the entertainment industry himself, he fully understood the pressures that came with being an idol, so he was there to support you in every way possible.

When you were feeling the weight of the constant schedules and public scrutiny, Taki was your constant source of positivity and light. His approach was always energetic but never overwhelming—he knew just when to cheer you up with his playful attitude and when to give you space to breathe. Whether you were worried about a performance or something that happened backstage, Taki had a way of distracting you just enough to calm your nerves.

You got this! I believe in you 100%! And if you don’t, I’ll just have to steal all the spotlight next time!

There was something about his energy that made it impossible for you to stay upset for long. Even on days when you felt insecure or exhausted, his goofy sense of humor and constant smile would get you back on track. He wasn’t shy about showing you affection in public either. Whether it was holding your hand during press events or sneaking you little looks of admiration when he thought no one was paying attention, Taki was always proud to be seen with you.

But what made Taki especially special was how well he could balance being a doting partner and still respecting your boundaries. He was always there when you needed a hug or a few quiet words of encouragement, but he never pushed you too hard. He understood that as idols, both of you needed space to decompress, and he respected that more than anything.

In moments when it was just the two of you, Taki was a sucker for cuddles. He would pull you close after a long day of rehearsals or events, just to relax in your company. His way of showing love wasn’t always through grand gestures, but in the quiet moments—those little touches, his presence when you needed it, and the way he’d always make sure you were okay.

Taki made sure you knew that your relationship was a safe space—a place where you didn’t have to be perfect or constantly performing. He loved you for who you were, and he wanted you to feel loved and appreciated without all the pressure of being in the spotlight.

MAKI :

Maki’s world was filled with excitement and challenges, but when it came to you, nothing seemed to matter more. As an idol, he understood how difficult it could be to juggle fame with personal life. But he also knew how important it was to support you, and that’s exactly what he did, with a calm and genuine attitude that never wavered.

Maki was attentive, but not in an overbearing way. He had a knack for knowing when you needed space and when you needed comfort. He’d casually ask how your day went, but not with the usual small talk—he genuinely cared and was always there to listen to the struggles that came with the pressures of being in the public eye.

It’s okay to have days where you don’t feel 100%. I’m here for all of it.

There was something grounding about his presence. You could tell he wasn’t just saying things to make you feel better; he understood the emotional rollercoaster that was being an idol. Whether it was tough practice schedules or media expectations, Maki would always remind you to keep a balance between work and taking care of yourself. His gentle, supportive nature gave you reassurance even on the busiest, most stressful days.

When you both found moments to spend together, Maki was all about simplicity. He loved taking you to quiet places where the both of you could relax and forget about the world for a little while. He wasn’t into flashy dates or anything extravagant. For him, a quiet dinner in a cozy restaurant or spending time at home while watching movies was enough.

the world can wait. Right now, I just want to be with you.

One of Maki’s best qualities was his ability to respect your independence. Even as an idol, he never tried to control or push you into doing things you weren’t comfortable with. But when you did need him, he was there in a heartbeat—whether it was offering a shoulder to lean on or giving you an encouraging word before an important performance. He always seemed to know just how to calm your nerves.

What made Maki unique was the way he made even the most mundane moments feel special. Whether it was sharing a quiet morning together, walking hand in hand through the city, or just sitting in comfortable silence, his quiet affection made you feel like the most important person in the room. It was a subtle but deep connection, and you knew you could always count on him to be your steady support.

You’re my peace, you know? I never want you to feel like you’re alone in this.

With Maki, you didn’t have to worry about being judged or having to constantly be “on.” You could just be yourself—an idol, yes, but also a person who deserved love and care beyond the spotlight. And that’s exactly what he gave you every day.

Word count : 3361 | serapharua, 2025.

[mackjlee9]

Will Poulter x Actor!Amab!Reader [Lime] |Headcanons & Drabble|

Warning; request was originally 'fluff & smut' but! it was hard to do that, so I made it a lime. Kind of half-assed, I apologize. Long headcanons.

Masterlist.

Requested by Kaniko on Quotev.

•You and Will have known each other for a while now.

•You met on set when you were in your mid-teen years, and you got along pretty well from the beginning, becoming what one would call best friends.

•You always find yourself remembering having lots of fun while acting alongside Will, who would usually be one to bring up the stories of your inside jokes or small pranks you did to other actors, but nothing harmful.

•You and Will had gotten casted to act together quite a few times, whether it'll be in movies or series, and you always had a blast spending your time with him.

•Being part of the Maze Runner cast was definitely one of the best moments of your lives. Meeting amazing people and making friends of a lifetime.

•Everything had always been quite simple between you and Will.

•If you don't count a few things, or accidents that happened during that made you change the way you look at him.

•Even though you had weird feelings regarding Will, you never let that intervene with your friendship, concluding that time itself would make you get rid of these weird feelings.

•But perhaps, acting together in a rom-com wasn't going to be of much help to you.

•You hated having to remind yourself that Will was nothing more than a friend. And would never be, Will was straight while you were some gray, faded line between straight and gay.

•Although, it wasn't of much help whenever Will would joke around the set, calling you his boyfriend (not that you minded), like he had done during the filming of Maze Runner.

•Not a single person questioned Will, because they could always see the way you looked at him, almost having cartoonish heart-shaped eyes whenever you would stare at him a second longer than needed.

•And an accident on set caused "something" to happen between them and the tension just continued to build up.

•Let's just say that, doing a kabedon to your best friend while half-naked would create some tension, even if it was completely accidental.

•You had a plan to try and ease that tension between you two, so you invited him to your hotel room to do exactly that.

•Thankfully, you had some alcohol around, some bourbon that you shared with Will as well.

•Everything seemed to be going fine, you had been talking for a while while a movie was going off in the background to fill any silence.

•The ambiance eased as the tension was gone by now, and that calmed your worried mind.

•Until you realized how close to each other you actually were. Maybe a tad bit too close.

•You tried to back away from Will, but his green eyes were hazy as he placed his hand on your thigh.

•At that, your mind immediately goes to 'fuck no...' mode.

•Will noticed your internal conflict and he took his time to lift his free hand to your face, locking eyes with you before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

•Of course, you were caught off guard by this, especially because he kissed you first, but even so, you still tried to push him away.

•But, fuck... He was such a good kisser. And his hand... It kept going up, "Wait, Will-"

•"Please, (M/n), I... I want this, and I know you do too..."

•The way his deep voice sounded, hearing him pleading for you...

•Fuck it.

•With kiss after kiss, you found yourselves undressing each other, Will was left in his underwear, while you were left with your button-up shirt discarded somewhere.

Still sitting on the couch, Will had found his way on your lap, hands placed on your shoulders to hold himself up, your hands on his hips while you continued kissing.

"Touch me, (M/n), please~," his whiny voice against your lips made a shiver run down your spine, your hand reaching to touch his erection, slowly stroking it over the fabric of his boxers, capturing Will's lips on yours and swallowing his moans.

His hips twitched as he tried to grind against you, or into your hand, he just wanted- needed more of you.

You began trailing kisses down his neck, but avoiding leaving visible marks on his tanned skin, hearing him moaning freely now, calling your name in your ear and making you go feral, holding onto his hips tighter. It was too much for you to handle, and securing your hold on his body, you laid him on his back on the couch, and began grinding your his down on his, lifting his legs and grabbing on for leverage as you began to place kisses down his chest and abdomen.

Will whined at the feeling of your erection rubbing against his and your lips kissing his heated skin, his hands reaching to interlock with your hair, gently pulling on it to keep you close to his chest, enjoying the jolt of pleasure your teeth brought to his body.

Slowly, you made your way down, releasing his legs and hooking your fingers around his underwear, leaving subtle teeth marks along his hip bone and down his v-line.

"(M/n)..." Will's voice was meek and breathy, his thighs trembling in anticipation as he watched with clouded eyes how you lowered his boxers, sliding them down his toned legs, "What-?"

A whimper escaped past Will's mouth when your lips placed a kiss on his shaft, making your way up to his red and leaking tip, licking your lips and humming at the taste of his pre-cum.

"Stay still, Will," you said with a teasing voice, holding the base of his cock and taking the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and pressing it against his slit, feeling how his thighs threatened to close around your head, loud and lewd moans and cries of your name filled the suite you were staying in, but it wasn't like you cared.

Whether anyone could hear him or not, you were the only one who could get him to sound so painfully erotic, looking like a dream under you.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

a love story | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 3.4k words request: nopewarnings: fluuuuuuff and maybe some angst? kinda? this was inspired by a dream i had last night 🫣 a/n: me? actually posting something? no way!

my masterlist 

(i'm so proud of my boy but honestly wtf did they put in the water during roc they were all INSANE)

the gray clouds looked threatening, they covered the sky completely, leaving the sun nowhere to be found. it was a cold morning, with the crisp air causing the curtains of her bedroom to dance, even if her window was open just a tad bit. she usually loved days like this, being bundled up in a cable knit sweater, watching the raindrops hitting the windows as soft music played in the background, a cup of warm tea in her hands and a good book on her lap. 

but those days were usually accompanied by a warm embrace around her shoulders, a hard chest allowing her to rest her back against it, soft lips grazing her neck, her cheeks and lips. 

today was not one of those days, for he was not with her, but hours and miles away. after years of being with him, she still couldn’t get used to the idea of him being gone. but she couldn’t be selfish, she had to support him and his dreams as much as he did for hers. 

just two more days.

she started her morning as usual. shower, get dressed, light makeup, brush her hair, make breakfast and grab the lunch she made the previous night before leaving her apartment and going to work. 

the small book shop downtown sat peacefully, waiting with its pastel yellow walls for customers to arrive. she ate her breakfast as she sat on the bus on her way there, a simple bagel with cream cheese and jam bought from the farmer’s market. she finished just in time for her to skip down the bus steps and onto the streetwalk. 

she did her usual routine to open the book shop, like picking a quote from a book to write on the chalkboard wall by the kids’ section, checking that everything was in its right place, collecting the flowers from the shop next door, to brighten up the place. she was so lucky she found that spot for her book shop, with a café on one side, a flower shop on the other, it was quite possibly the perfect combination. every so often she’d receive customers with a coffee cup in their hands, looking for a book to enjoy while relaxing from the day. or people looking for a book as a gift, having already bought a bouquet of flowers. 

once the clock turned its hands to tell her it was 9:00 am, she turned the lock on the door and flipped the sign that hung from it, now reading ‘open’. 

it was a quiet morning, the rain started around an hour after opening and just picked up from there, with the winds picking up strength as well. she couldn’t spot a soul out there, the town she called home was a ghost town, everyone much preferred staying home than going out.

she wished she’d done so as well, that rest of the day was probably going to be just as slow as the morning. 

but a few hours after midday, a young couple entered the book shop. they apologized profusely as they dried their shoes on the carpet she’d placed especially for that. 

she smiled at them, waving their worries away as she informed them they could hang their jackets on the coat rack to dry and avoid making a mess. they thanked her, and she noticed how he was the first to reach for his girlfriend’s hand after having to separate to take off their jackets. she watched them walk further into the shop, and she grabbed her phone, opening the music app and changing the preloaded queue, adding a few soft, romantic tunes that fit well with the ambiance of the day, the bookshop, and the couple. songs that reminded her of him. 

book shops had always been a special place for her, she could get lost for hours on end, reading the back cover of paperback books, running her fingers along the hardcover spines, sighing over beautiful covers and sprayed edges. but especially, she loved book shops because that’s where she met him. 

she was in college, longing for ways to escape the real world. books provided just that, a chance to get lost in fictional places, with words that described endless possibilities and worlds where everything was possible. 

the local bookstore was her most frequented place, the owners and workers knew her and trusted her, they knew that the books she took were safe and that she’d take care of them as if they were the most delicate rose petals. 

she sat on a velvet sofa, her favorite. it fit two people, but she always claimed it as hers, and no one ever bothered her. not even on that day, when all the other available seats were taken. she was reading a poetry book. she had a lot on her mind and needed something that was quick to read and kept her mind occupied. she had her legs crossed beneath her, the book on one hand as she rested her head on the other. her eyes scanned the pages quickly, re-reading verses that caught her attention and often writing them down in her own notebook. she never was a fan of writing on books, but did like taking notes and scribbling down her thoughts. 

her quiet peace was interrupted by a tall body standing in front of her. 

“sorry-” she looked up, seeing blue eyes looking down at her. “is this seat taken? all the other chairs are busy and i- i haven’t seen anyone here, so-”

“yeah, it’s okay,” she answered, grabbing her bag and placing it on the floor beneath her.

“thank you,” he smiled at her as he sat, she did the same, returning to her book.

they didn’t speak more that day, he only thanked her again and said goodbye when he was ready to leave. he looked about her age, and she found herself staring at his frame as he left, with his back toward her. 

two days later, he was there again. he had the same book he was reading the previous time, whilst she had already finished her poetry book and was now reading a classic tragedy. the routine was the same, none of them talking, simply sitting next to each other as they read and saying goodbye when it was their time to leave. unfortunately, she couldn’t go the rest of the week because of school work, but finally, after a hard week, she walked through the doors, breathing in the familiar scent of ink and pages. she walked straight to her spot, stopping in her tracks as she saw the same guy sitting there already, his backpack on her side of the sofa. he looked up, a smile on his face.

“you’re back,” he said, grabbing his bag and placing it on the floor, like she’d done for him that very first day. she smiled, unable to stop a light flush to rush to her cheeks as she walked to him.

“yeah, school was being a pain,” she said, dropping down beside him. 

“well, i’m happy to see you again,” he placed a bookmark between the pages he was reading, closing the book to pay attention to her.

“thanks, i missed being here. this place… it’s like a home away from home.”

“i get it, i only found out about this place a week ago and felt an instant connection, and i’m not an avid reader. or, i wasn’t before coming here for the first time.” 

she smiled, nodding her head, that was exactly how she felt.

“i’m mick, by the way,” he offered his hand. she sat up, shaking his hand. she told him her name, and looked down at the book he was reading.

“the great gatsby?” 

“yeah, i saw you reading it last week and… you seemed so lost in the book and the pages, you gasped and your eyes widened every so often… you made me want to read it,” he spoke, hoping he didn’t sound like a creep. but he was an observant person, he noticed things. 

“oh,” was all she said, crossing her legs beneath her, a position she often found herself in, it was comfortable and meant she was at ease. “and what do you think?” she asked, looking down at the way his fingers delicately tapped the cover of the book. 

“it’s really good,” he chuckled, nodding his head to confirm his words. “i’d seen the movie but-”

“it doesn’t compare. it’s a good adaptation but… it’s not the same,” 

“yeah,” he agreed. 

and then he asked her a question, she answered. then she did, and he answered. and the hours passed but neither of them read the books, they got to know each other, talking and laughing and confessing their favorite tropes, books and even discussing their different stands on a controversial topic in one of their favorite books.

before they knew it, the day turned to night and the owners started getting ready to close the shop. she looked around, noticing they were the only two customers there. 

“i’m guessing that’s our cue to leave,” she said, chuckling softly, but didn’t stand up.

“oh- yeah,” he replied, playing with the edges of his book. they both stood up, walking to the exit. she said goodbye to the owners, waving her hand.

“see you tomorrow,” she told them, the words she said every night. “i guess i’ll- see you tomorrow, too,” she smiled.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

“okay. good night,” she said, looking straight at him as she took a step back. 

“good night.” he nodded his head, walking backward too, the other way. 

after that day their afternoons were spent getting wrapped up in sentences, verses, rhymes, the times new roman font, and each other. they’d walk along the shelves, point to books they’d already read, book they recommended to each other, and books they promised to read together. at one point as the days passed, the distance between them disappeared, they now sat side by side, leaning into each other to read from the same book. other times, one of them would read aloud while the other stared at the ceiling, or at the person reading.

the bookstore was witness to their first meeting, the time they exchanged numbers, their first real goodbye… their first kiss.

their first goodbye. he explained that besides books, his biggest passion in life was racing. he explained the extent of his rising career, the stakes and responsibilities that came with it. and how he’d have to leave several weeks of the year. she remained quiet, taking in his words, understanding that his life was so different from hers. their first goodbye included soft smiles, a gentle touch of hands, a hug that neither of them wanted to end, and a tear streaming down her face as she turned her back to him as she walked away. 

their first kiss happened two weeks later. two long weeks he’d been gone, and even though they could count on technology, it wasn’t the same as having him sitting next to her, feeling his warmth and hearing his laugh echoing through the wooden walls of their little nook in the bookshop. mick arrived unannounced, saying hi to the people behind the counter, asking for her. he walked to their spot, seeing her belongings there, but not her. he walked down the long corridor, one shelf after the other, and finally spotted her, leaning against the wall, book covering her face. 

"the great gatsby?" he asked. she dropped the book, looking up at him as a smile broke on her face. 

"you're here!" she got up, leaving the book forgotten on the floor as she flung herself towards him. "how are you? how did it go?" she said as she threw her arms around his neck. he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close against him. 

"it was good, but i don't want to talk about that right now," he replied, putting her down, but she still kept her arms on his neck, he kept his hold of her waist. "you're re-reading the great gatsby already?" he raised an eyebrow.

"yeah, i… this was the first book you read because you saw me, and we started talking because of this book. it's… special." 

"that feels so long ago," he said, turning so he had his back against the tall shelf. 

"a month and a half." 

"hmm…" he smiled, "and what have you been up to these past weeks?" he asked. 

"oh! i found the perfect greek mythology retelling, it's about hades and persephone, and all of their struggles, and he loves her so much, it's so beautifully written and-" her rambling was cut short by a pair of soft lips on hers. 

it was soft and slow and tender and so delicate, he moved his lips against hers as if they were a sugar cube that could break with the wrong movement. she was left breathless as he fully circled her middle with his arms, turning them so her back was against the hard wooden shelves. 

their first kiss was perfect. there was no other way to describe it. it was shared in the place that had a special meaning for both of them, they were both eager and devoted to the kiss, not wanting it to end, loving the feeling, the rushing heartbeats and flushing cheeks, the shivers and goosebumps after a particular sensitive touch, it was magical, and no words could ever even begin to describe it. 

they'd try to find poems, verses, lines, paragraphs that could put into words everything they felt at that moment, but nothing could ever come close to fully capture the electrifying energy that surrounded them. 

and five years later, after endless kisses, touches, intimate moments, book after book, their love only grew larger and larger, deeper and deeper, an undeniable and undefiable connection that could overcome everything. 

but sometimes that was easier said than done, and as she stared at the young couple, that reminded her so much of them, she couldn't help but wish he was there. she never said it, she didn't want to make him feel bad, but everytime he walked out the door was hard on her. he was her rock, the one person she could count on to always be there for her. and sometimes all she wanted was him. just his presence made her feel at ease. 

and especially in slow days like this, when her mind was left free to wander and think endlessly, she couldn't help but wish she could just wrap her arms around him and keep him close forever. he was so kind, so gentle with her, everything she longed for in a partner and so much more, traits that only made sense because of him. 

but she powered through it, picking a high fantasy novel to keep her mind busy, building the images on her head and creating the characters she was reading about. every so often her eyes would find the couple, sharing kisses and giggles as they scanned the books. 

maybe that was the magic of bookshops, the chance to escape the real, rainy world outside and be consumed by the endless possibilities the stories inside had to offer. 

once the rain died down, the couple left, they bought a couple of books and she dropped a couple of bookmarks in their bag as a gift. the rest of the day was the same, with only two or three more customers arriving and leaving quickly, not wanting to get caught under the rain once it started again. 

with about an hour left until closing time, she decided it was enough. she highly doubted anyone else was coming anytime soon. so she flipped the sign on the door, locking it as she began to clean up. the playlist had finished playing, and the only sounds were that of her footsteps. 

until a knock on the door startled her. she could only make out a tall body, head covered by the black hood of a jacket, her immediate stranger danger siren went off in her head, but she still approached the door, grabbing the nearest thing she could find as a weapon.

a hardcover copy of les mis.

she unlocked the door, opening it just wide enough for her to peek her head forward.

"sorry, we're closing early because of the weather." she explained, hands clutching the book against her chest.

"really? i wanted to buy that new emily henry book," the man said, looking up at her with a smile on his face.

"mick!" she said, dropping the copy of the french novel and skipping down the few steps leading up to the shop. she wrapped her legs around him, hands over his neck, pulling him close.

"get inside! you're not wearing a jacket," he laughed, walking with her on top of him. "it's nice to see your habit of dropping books when i stop by unannounced hasn't gone away." 

"i've missed you so much," she said, keeping her face buried in his neck. "all day… all i wanted to do was be near you." she mumbled against his skin, feeling him walking with her in his arms.

"i'm here now," he placed her on the counter, beside the cash register, and softly placed his hands on her face, leaning back to look at her. he tilted her chin up, getting lost in her eyes.

"you're here." she whispered, her fingers playing with his hair. "how are you here?" she asked.

"got done early. took a flight. i was going to wait for you at home but… i wanted to see you. i missed you too much." she smiled at his words, feeling butterflies in her stomach as he ticked a strand of hair behind her ear. even after so many years together, he still made her feel like they were falling in love for the first time all over again. 

"how was everything?" she asked, tentatively. she knew that sometimes he wasn't in the mood to talk about his job, he liked leaving racing on the paddock and just enjoy their time together.

"good, talks about next year are going well," he said, squeezing her hips. she smiled, knowing how much he deserved a seat on the f1 grid. 

"i'm happy to hear that. did you get any reading done?" she asked, changing the subject. 

"finished 'little women', started 'circe'."

"ooh, you really want to complete your reading challenge this year, don't you?"

"i only have two books left." he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

"well done, my love!" she said, kissing his cheek, too. 

"and you? how many books did you finish?"

"night circus and i'm halfway through anna karenina."

"a big book?" he raised his eyebrows. "i'm proud of you, baby."

"thanks," she blushed under his stare, her hands finding his, locking their fingers together. 

her eyes met his, soft smiles painted on their lips, chests rising up and down in sync. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers softly. he rubbed his nose against hers, then placed his lips on top of hers. 

the first kiss after a goodbye was always a special one. there was so much longing, love and pure emotion poured into a reunion kiss, it always brought them back to their very first kiss shared a few moons ago. 

the first kiss after a goodbye always left her breathless after. it was like her body was getting used to having him close again, and no matter how many times they said goodbye and hello, it always felt like the first time. 

"what do you think about going home… turn on the fireplace, make hot cocoa, and read a good book?" he suggested.

"i'd love that," she smiled against his lips, leaning forward once more. "what are you in the mood for?"

"hmm… a love story?" he raised an eyebrow.

she nodded, pushing him back to jump off the counter. she held his hand and led him to the first book that crossed her mind.

"how about a tragic love story?" she said, grabbing a copy of the blue paperback book. "quite possibly the greatest love story," she teased.

"impossible. ours is way better," mick said, grabbing the copy of 'the great gatsby' and holding her hand.

and he was right. 

out of all the stories she'd read, theirs was her favorite one. and the best part was, it wasn't fictional, and more importantly, it didn't have to end. 

-- take a shot each time you read the word 'book'

[maleyanderecafe]

Hey there was a mobile game I wanted to recommend you check out! It’s called MazM: The Phantom of the Opera. Obviously the phantom himself is a well-known character and prime example of a yandere, and this version’s Raoul also takes on that trait a little (although it’s mostly because Christine is in a life or death situation and this he’s protective over her), he’s very sweet and doesn’t wait a moment to shower her with praise. Anyway it’s a pretty faithful retelling of the original book and was extra fun for me as a yandere-lover as you play as Christine caught in between the yandere and the actual boyfriend. I think it’s coming to the switch soon as well if you want to wait for that.

...Are you sure that Raoul just takes on this trait a bit...?

Joking aside, sorry it took me so long to answer this ask. I was originally going to watch a walkthrough on youtube, but then I realized that you said it would be on switch and since I just got my switch emulator, I ended up playing with a friend. I will say that there is a lot for me to say about this game, so this will be a long read.

First things first, I'll admit that I've never actually read or watched the Phantom of the Opera before, so I genuinely have no idea what happens in the story. This is where my friend who I was streaming for comes in because she has read the story so she helped fill me in on what happens (she's also making a yandere vn in the future which I will be spamming the heck out of because yandere vn). I think from what she told me, most of the story is relatively accurate, though some parts are changed for one reason or another (for instance, The Persian has a name in this game, but in the original, he doesn't), which has some pros and cons for some characters. Overall though, the story was pretty good for a first timer like me since it really let me experience what the Phantom of the Opera is truly about. I think the creator Mazm did a good job for historical detail, which makes sense considering their platform is about creating games that reinterpret famous stories (they've also done one for Wizard of Oz and Jekyll and Hyde which I sort of want to play), and there are a lot of different notes the player can collect in the game that give more historical insight into what is going on.

The story for the most part is pretty linear. There are some choices you can choose, but except for two, they don't really affect the story. For the most part, the game plays as a visual novel, though you do have to walk around to talk or interact with things to proceed the story. There are cats and notes that lie around the game too, with the notes giving more historical insight and the cats being used as hints in case you don't know where to go. The story is about a detective trying to find out the truth of the Phantom of the Opera at a request of a client whos husband was a victim of him, but most of the story is played through a flashback.

There are also small minigames as well that aren't too difficult, though I honestly felt like some of the minigames got to be tedious at times, specifically the one minigame where you have to press the order of the mirror combo which I found really annoying because besides the fact that I'm bad at those games, you had to do it every time you wanted to enter under the Opera house, which was just... ugh. The game itself seems much more optimized for mobile than it was for switch considering how slow the characters move (and its really slow walking to different places sometimes) as well as the fact that it takes forever to load between different scenes and there's no touch screen option for switch (that I know of). Plus the buttons for moving and pressing hints were annoying to deal with (though this could just be because I'm using an emulator). I also kept getting confused when I was playing, since sometimes I would walk around the entire opera house trying to figure out what to do next, only to learn that I was suppose to talk to someone that was literally five steps from where I spawned. The last thing I found annoying was the fact that there's no option to skip dialogue which is really annoying when I wanted to replay a specific part of the story to take some screenshots. If you play this game, it's probably better to play it on mobile than on switch.

In terms of artwork, Mazm's Phantom of the Opera is really gorgeous, from the overworld sprites to the dialogue sprites to the background and CGs. I love how cute the overworld sprites are (I think Jammes and Raoul's are my favorite, they're both so cute) and every background is really nice to walk through and gives a good atmosphere of what it's trying to show. The character sprites for each characters are nice and varied. I can always appreciate characters that have recognizable faces and shapes, since a lot of times I have face blindness when it comes to characters that look way too similar. The CGs of course are super well done and I love all of them. Overall, the artstyle of this game is very solid and I love the way it looks.

The main character of the story was Christine, who looks really good ( I really love her hair), was for the most part alright initially. While I found her to be a bit naive (because she believed that there was an actual Angel of Music when it was just... the Phantom), she was for the most part alright, and even ended up saving another character from the phantom. However, I found her actions annoying after she met the phantom, specifically the part where she agreed to stay underground with the phantom for two days and would be released as long as she didn't touch his mask, and guess what. Right as she was literally about to leave, SHE TAKES OFF HIS MASK, AND FOR WHAT? YOU WERE JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE?? The other thing that bothered me was the after being trapped with the Phantom for about a month, she is given free reign to go back above ground, under the conditions that she only goes to the opera house and at home. During this time, she's expected to break it off with Raoul, so she fakes a honeymoon with him before he leaves for the artic. However, during this time, she doesn't tell anyone, not even Raoul about what the Phantom is up to. She has an entire month, an ENTIRE MONTH to tell someone that the Phantom is likely to hurt people (as previously he had dropped a chandelier on top of the audience) and she just... didn't. Understandably, she might have been afraid that the Phantom might have heard her, but still, what is he going to do to the possible 100 people that Christine could have told about him. She could have saved people from death if something like that were to happen. Near the end, she does get proper character development and learns to choose things for her sake and not others, which was pretty nice and does stand up to the Phantom after all the trauma (and doesn't get stockholm sydrome, thank goodness), but I still think that a lot of her actions could have probably been written better to make her less naive (since apparently in the original she was about 16ish while in this remake she's about 20 so it's less awkward between her and the phantom).

Raoul is the next character I'll be talking about, because even though he is very adorable, he also has one braincell and talks about Christine way too much. My friend and I actually decided to make a counter on how many times Erik and Raoul say "Christine." Erik says Christines name 128 times and Raoul... says it 340 times. This isn't even counting his introduction and only starts up to when Erik is introduced as a formal character and also doesn't count any time he says it in the overworld. 340! My friend kept on joking around that because Raoul says Christine so much, his brother Phillipe became an alcoholic because he's so tired of Raoul talking about Christine. Raoul only really has like three things going for him: the fact that he was in the military, the fact that he's part of the Chagny household and Christine, and that's it. Throughout the story, his goals are pretty much always related to Christine, whether it be to give gifts to Christine, being worried about her or trying to protect Christine from the Phantom. When the chandelier drops on half the crowd during one of the performances, instead of being worried for them or trying to get out of the Opera House, he instead looks for Christine, who is on stage and quite literally in the safest location within the theater. I would consider him a redeemed/protective yandere though, considering his priority is always Christine (he even gives up his own family name to be with her) and he's always trying to protect her. There's a part of the story where Raoul becomes really unhinged when it comes to protecting Christine, lashing out her her friends and other members of the Opera house. He does some really dumb stuff because of the Phantom, specifically throwing away Christine's ring that she got from the Phantom (that she also literally told him before that as long as she's wearing the ring she wouldn't be harmed by the phantom and he just...?? okay??). When he's tortured in the mirror room, he hallucinates Christine blaming him for her capture, and he even cries while hallucinating that Christine friendzones him (which I though was actually really funny, even if it was a tad bit stupid). His redemption comes near the end of the story where he apologizes for being so emotional and realizing that he was a bit of an obsessive beast, and in one ending he lets Christine go to travel the world. To be honest, I don't know if Raoul would continue to be as protective and obsessed with her even after the Phantom's death, but I guess there's not really any way to know.

The Phantom, or Erik (which I know is his cannon name but it makes me laugh because he really doesn't look like an Erik) is the main villain of the story. Unfortunately, in this version, I don't think I can call him a yandere, for one simple character: Melek. Melek, as far as I know isn't in the original story, is a prisoner that Erik has after she refused to marry her. As a character, I do actually like Melek since she's the one of the more sensible characters in the story and she's the more rational one between her and Christine, but her role in the story basically deconfirms Erik as a yandere, at least in this version. For one, Melek is a blind maid of Erik that he did fall in love with and trap, similar to how Christine was, which kind of comes off as Erik being the kind of person who would trap any girl that he likes. Even if this is the case, I don't understand why Erik would keep her alive even after she fell for Christine. Supposedly the reason is that Erik wanted to make Christine feel despair and he did attempt to kill her, but Melek survives and he just... doesn't do anything with her. Honestly, if Melek were straight up not in the story, I would have put him as a yandere because pretty much all of his other actions point to a more possessive/worship type of yandere, but because of Melek it's just not possible in my eyes. Besides that Erik sort of reminds me of a chunni in this version (he's like this absolute darkness is my curse! Like people with 7th grade syndrom seem to have), it was kind of hard for me to take him seriously in certain times. He is very intimidating when he threatens Christine, but his overdramatic nature (which I know is something he's always known for, just this version is uh...) really makes him seem like a child. Erik is for sure suppose to be more antagonistic in this version, considering the addition of Melek and his general actions of possession towards Christine and his disdain for Raoul, but near the end we do see more of his story and we see just how devastating his life is from the moment of birth. I did feel really bad for him when Hatim/The Persian keeps on mentioning the prince he used to work with because its really obvious that he still has trauma from it (and he keeps begging him to not talk about his past and the Persian just... keeps traumatizing him I guess) and the fact that he was treated so badly because of his appearance, but this doesn't excuse his actions in the story. Christine does try to sympathize with him using her own tragic backstory, which Erik kind of pushes away (like bro, we're not trying to see whose parents are worse, she's just trying to sympathize with you, dang) as not being tragic. I think that Mazm did present him pretty well in this story, not showing just his antagonistic side but also his more tragic side. Sadly, like I said, I can't consider him a yandere because of the addition of Melek, at least not in this version.

In terms of other characters, I really like the trio of Meg Giry, Sorelli and Jammes- the friends of Christine. From what I can tell, they're all a bit more aged up in this version, with Sorelli being the oldest and Jammes being the youngest and I feel like they gave more character to them than in the original version. Sorelli is the head of the dancers and the dating partner of Phillip de Chagny, Raoul's older brother and she's the mature and strong willed one of the group, wielding a blade that she uses to protect her friends. I like the fact that they made her a bit more protective and in one of the overworld sprites its mentioned via rumor that Phillip fell in love with her after he saw Sorelli swing her dagger, which I thought was pretty cute. At the end though, after Phillips death, she realizes that she was struggling too hard to climb up the social ladder and decides to forge her own path. In the beginning she attempts to protect her and her friends from the Phantom, declaring that she'll stab him if she sees him. Next is Meg Giry, and from what my friend told me, she was very young in the original books and kind of scardy cat. In this version, she's a bit older but maintains the scardy cat position, and is very terrified of the Phantom. She does gain more character development during the story, standing up to her mother and the managers and overall being a more assertive and confident person, which I thought was a nice touch. Last but certainly not least is my best girl Jammes. In the original story, she barely makes an appearance, but in Mazm they made her quite literally the best character. For one, the canonical reason why there are so many cats hanging out in the opera house is that Jammes keeps on feeding them and letting them in and she has named all of them after the Opera House staff. Jammes loves to spin and has a cute animation and while she can be loud and a bit strange sometimes, she can be smart and assertive when she needs to. Jammes always pushes the other three into being better and protects them when needed (for instance, when Phillip lashes out at Sorelli, she steps in and demands that he apologize for his actions) and can be really smart at times (she's the only character that attempts to at least cover her mouth when the Phantom's fragrance, a hallucinogenic gas, starts to fill up the box seat, despite others who have been in there not even trying) and is the one who stands up for Christine's abuse as well as for the dancers at the opera house being treated unfairly by the manager as she organizes a strike against them. She also becomes part of the women's suffrage after the events of the story. I could go on and on about Jammes, but instead I'll leave a cute picture of her at the end of this entire analysis. Besides those three, I did like Carlotta, the original singing lead of the opera house. Originally, she became an antagonist towards Christine after she became the lead singer, however, she did apologize to her afterwards and befriended her once more before traveling the world. I love her interactions with Raoul because she basically said that Raoul only has Christine and military training and when he gets angry and lashes out, Carlotta glares and him, causing him to cower (this actually does happen multiple times), and I just found that really, really funny. Mifoid, though useless in the story is actually pretty cute as well, I love his bouncing animation. The last character I'll talk about is Phillip because he became meme material for me and my friend considering he probably is so tired of Raoul talking about Christine (we joked that the reason he was sent to military was so that he didn't have to hear her name again) and while he is mostly a decent but strict character in the story, his last appearance really makes him out as a jerk. I did think it was kind of weird that Phillip was so willing to let Raoul go to the Artic mission considering nobody that has gone there has ever returned, and he was rather elitest towards him, not letting him marry Christine because she's of lower

class but during his last chapter before he dies, he goes on a frenzy after he and Raoul have a fight, revealing to Sorelli that he only dated her for fun and not to actually settle down with her, which is just horrible. It's a bit sad though that Raoul only saw him as someone who tried to get rid of him considering that Phillip did raise Raoul and that his last actions were an attempt to save Phillip from the phantom, and yet Raoul barely has a reaction after seeing his body and doesn't even go to his funeral. It's really sad that Raoul didn't even really cry after seeing Phillip's body, considering that he was basically his father figure.

Overall, it's a good game to play and a good retelling of the Phantom of the Opera. I wouldn't consider the Phantom to be a yandere in this game, but I do think that Raoul is one. Thank you for this recommendation!

[jtrbluv]

resolutely, yours. | kth

summary: When your best-friend slash pain-in-your-ass, Kim Seokjin, drags you to a New Year’s Eve party that you didn’t want to go to in the first place, what better way is there to pass the time than to stay sober and watch all your classmates go berserk? Well, that is until Kim Taehyung steps into the picture, of course.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k+

warnings: profanity, slight alcohol consumption, implied drug usage (two words only, i swear), college party antics should say enough

A/N: first fic of the year! W O O! this was supposed to be for tae’s birthday but i guess it’s fitting since it is the new year. a special thanks to miss mei @sugacouture for her likeness and @koushiningg aka the eternal hypewoman. this fic (drabble) is rly short but i do have a lot coming up in store! for now, hope u enjoy and happy new year everyone!

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You are going to murder Kim Seokjin.

The spiked punch that fills your red solo cup up to its brim has been waiting to be quaffed down for thirty-seven minutes now. Roughly five minutes before that, Seokjin had somehow managed to drag you through the front doors of the fraternity party he’s been wanting you to accompany him to for weeks now.

And it only takes ten minutes for the proclaimed party animal and people-person, Kim Seokjin, to vanish from your side. He leaves you to fend for yourself in a jungle full of plastered college students—priorities at the moment are to either drink so much liquid regret that they can’t even remember their own names, or to find someone to make out with when the clock strikes at midnight. From simple observation, you notice that most, if not everyone here, fall under both categories.

Well, the exception being you, of course.

One thing to note is that you actually do have a decent tolerance for alcohol. You were no stranger to it, and it would serve as a dutiful companion to you when times called for it. Like last week after your last final that you knew you fucking bombed.

However, the humidity of the room due to the accumulation of bodies that left little to no room for fresh air, in addition to the strong stench of alcohol mixed with sweat mixed with God knows what, just was not the ideal place for you to get wasted. It didn’t stand close in comparison to drinking with a solid group of close friends, or by yourself in the comfort of your bed while a shitty rom-com plays in the background on your laptop.

The atmosphere is suffocating all of your senses— tears pricking at the corners of your eyes due to the strong odor of the room, the curled front pieces of your hair dampening and sticking to your temples, your mouth and throat dry as the Sahara Desert because, of fucking course, there is absolutely no water to be seen.

The small black dress and heels that Seokjin forced you to wear was worsening the situation greatly—your legs practically glued stuck to the stool you were sitting on, leading to ugly red marks and stinging skin if you tried to stand up.

You could not take being inside any longer. Instead of passing out from being piss drunk, you were almost adamant that you were going to pass out from the grueling mix of heat exhaustion and secondhand high.

Your grip on the solo cup significantly tightens, nearly crushing the plastic in half. You quickly stand up from the stool you were sitting in, the sensation akin to getting your legs waxed as you take a deep inhale through your nose, mentally preparing yourself to dive into this sea of financially obligated, depressed monsters.

Peculiarly, you manage to shove your way through a good chunk of the mass, your eyes set on the door that leads towards the balcony. Your ankles almost completely give into your weight a concerning number of times, and if it wasn’t for all of the arms of oblivious partygoers that you had clung onto for dear life, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own two feet by now.

Solely occupied with trying to navigate your way through the crowd, you don’t even realize that someone bumped into you and spilled your drink all over your dress until you reach the balcony. The cold, night breeze passes over your body, leaving chills on the huge wet patch on your dress. The one goddamn time your dress sees the light of day, you just so happen to find a way to ruin it.

“Fucking hell!” You holler into the vacant balcony, your hands coming up to carefully poke at the wet patch on your dress. You wince as the soaked, freezing fabric comes in contact with your bare stomach. Angry, you chug down the rest of the drink inside your cup and chuck it off the balcony, too enraged to even react to its strong taste.

Shivering, you walk deeper onto the balcony, cradling yourself and staring at your shoes, a string of curses spewing from your lips. You scold yourself for not bringing a jacket while simultaneously plotting your revenge against Seokjin. A pair of black loafers intrude your vision, accompanied by a husky voice that calls out to you,

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

Your head shoots up, your eyes meeting the ones of the man standing in front of you. He towers above you significantly despite you wearing heels. His eyes are only a tad obscured by the soft, brown curls of his hair, perfectly styled and gelled to have that ‘purposefully messy’ look. The only difference being that models stood no chance against him when he was the blueprint himself. The black button up he’s clad in exquisitely accentuates every crevice of his lean, chiseled body. And his eyes that were already alluring on their own, were adorn with hazel-colored contacts that you swear you could stare at for hours upon hours. He is so otherworldly beautiful, you temporarily forget to breathe.

And you also forget that you are just staring at him, and he is staring back at you with a smile.

Times like this is when you wish you were at least a little buzzed. Sober ‘you’ is way too socially inept to fend for themself sadly. “O-oh i’m fine, someone just spilled their drink on me.”

Maybe it’s the way the moon sits behind him and casts a halo-like glow around his figure or how he’s just been staring straight into your eyes this whole time, like it’s second nature whilst you can only hold eye contact with him for two seconds before instinctively shying away. To say that his presence frightened you was an understatement. You were about to take cover and hide under the patio table like a five-year-old if he kept looking at you like that.

He blinks, his mouth stretching into a wide grin, rectangular-shaped and having the ability to ease your nerves. He places his drink on a patio table, dusting his hands on his pants, “Here, I’ll get you some napkins, just stay here.”

Stunned, it isn’t until he leaves that you yell out to him as he steps back inside the chaos, “Thank you!”

You carefully sit down on a patio chair, your arms still wrapped around your shivering torso while you try to breathe warm air into your cupped hands.

The man steps out onto the balcony minutes later, his fists full of paper towels as he hands them to you. “Here you go.”

You graciously take them, blotting your dress with the paper towels, your nose scrunching at the scent of alcohol that you had no choice but to inhale. “Thank you so much, really.” You say— still very much shocked to know that chivalry isn't quite dead yet. “It’s Taehyung, right?”

He nods, “Yeah, and you’re Y/N?

Your pause, your hand hovering over your dress as you look up and nod with a forced smile, “No but really, thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry that it happened in the first place,” he says apologetically, as if it was his fault, “it seems like everyone’s already out of their minds, and it isn’t even midnight yet.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” you assure him, which seems to work because his eyes soften a bit, “besides, I guess it’s my fault for coming here in the first place. I knew something like this was gonna happen and now here I am, smelling like cheap, convenience store vodka.”

He chuckles, and you swear you’ve never been so elated to make someone laugh until now, “I somehow managed to beat the crowd. I’ve literally just been standing out here by myself for a good hour now.”

You sigh in envy, “Must be nice.”

“Too bad you couldn’t make it, it’s been awfully quiet up here.” He says, pivoting on his heel to look at the rest of the empty balcony.

Your eyes trail to the commotion inside the house, the crowd still going strong, “Are we really the only sober ones here?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, we’re just the only ones stupid enough to show up at a college party on New Year’s Eve, expecting to have a good time sober while everyone’s getting plastered.”

The unexpected truth pill causes you to enter a fit of laughter, small clouds of air leaving your mouth every time you exhale. He laughs along with you. “Yeah we are pretty stupid, I do admit.” You concur, while rubbing at your arms that were covered in goosebumps.

“Do you want my jacket?” He asks you while pointing to the black blazer that’s slung on top of the chair next to you.

You wrinkle your nose, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, before I put it on you myself,” he giggles with a roll of his eyes.

Shaking your head, you grab the blazer and wrap it around your shoulders. You stand up from your seat and turn towards him, brow quirked. “A-are you not cold? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he counters, reaching out to help you slip your arms into his huge jacket sleeves, “I’m also not wearing a sleeveless dress.” He teases, eyeing you up and down as he takes in how oversized his jacket is on you. He thinks it looks much better when you’re wearing it, but he won’t tell you that.

“Right…” you drag out, following his footsteps as he motions you to follow him towards the edge of the balcony.

You two stand next to each other, leaning against the edge, arms nearly brushing against one another.

“So Taehyung, what brings you here in the first place?” You ask, knowing that he seems just as displeased to be here as much as you are.

“I got dragged here by a friend, Park Jimin, in particular.” He responds with a frown, “I have no idea where the fuck he is now, he literally left me as soon as we got here.”

Turning towards him incredulously, your brows raise and the corner of your lip curls into a smirk, “You don’t say.”

Confused, but also curious about the expression painted across your face, he quirks a brow, “Hm?”

You close your mouth, crossing your arms tighter around yourself, “I got dragged here by a friend too. Kim Seokjin. That asshole left me as soon as we got here too.”

He steps back, scoffing in disbelief, “Wow, we really just got stood up by our own friends.” Taehyung proclaims into the vacant balcony, for both him and you— the thought of it sounding even more pathetic after being said out loud.

“They’re pretty goddamn close to losing that title now.” You quip, shaking your head in dismay.

His head rocks back, a lively laugh leaving his lips due to your comment which makes you smile at the fact that you are even able to make him laugh like this.

“Damn it Y/N, you should’ve came out sooner, we could’ve been having a good time out here.” He tells you with a pout as his laughter starts to dwindle.

Sighing heavily, you too, feel regretful about the missed opportunity, “I really should have.”

He nudges you with his elbow, “At least you’re here now.”

The bass-boosted music from inside the house ceases, the room becoming momentarily quieter while someone bellows out, “Hey look, it’s the countdown!”

Everyone’s focus shifts towards the gigantic flat screen TV that hung above the fireplace, making you realize where the fraternity funds truly go to. You and Taehyung exchange glances before shrugging and moving closer to all the commotion since it was New Year’s Eve, above all.

He leans against the doorframe and you stay close to his side, the number ten flashing brightly on the screen—the crowd’s shouts getting louder as it reaches the final ten seconds of the year.

Instead of shouting out the numbers with the rest of the mass, you and Taehyung are simply witnessing it all fold out in silence.

“EIGHT!”

‘You got any New Year’s resolutions?!” You nudge him while attempting to yell over the noise.

His head whips towards you, “Me?!”

“SEVEN!”

Your brows furrow, “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?!”

His mouth splits into a grin once more, folding over in laughter just enough to meet eye-to-eye with you.

“SIX!”

“I mean! I didn’t have one originally!”

The crease in your brows dissipate, “Well, what changed?!”

“FIVE!”

His head tilts to the side, “I came here!”

You mirror his head tilt, confused as ever, “Um, so you wanna go to more parties next year?!”

“FOUR!”

He slaps a palm against his forehead, “From what you know about me, does it look like I like parties?!”

“How the hell would I know?!”

His jaw drops, “Y/N—!”

“THREE!”

“—I wanna get to know you better Y/N!”

Your jaw drops as well, “What?! Me?!”

“TWO!”

“Is there any other Y/N standing in front of me?!”

“I– oh...”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd shouts together in unison despite all being under the influence. A confetti cannon erupts, flying around the room and falling into people’s hair as the mass starts to split into pairs, all partaking in the traditional New Year’s kiss that you personally haven’t had much luck in participating in yourself.

You rip your gaze away to look at Taehyung. He smiles, pulling a piece of confetti out of hair, making your cheeks flush. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Taehyung.”

The small amount of alcohol you consumed when you first stepped foot onto the balcony leaves you slightly buzzed. Just enough to leave you with the right amount of courage to vouch for the nickname.

You take a daring step towards the man in front of you, “I also have a resolution of my own, Taehyung.”

He takes an even more daring step towards you, having the audacity to lean down— your faces only inches apart. “And what is that, may I ask?”

Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you close the gap in between the two of you, locking your lips with his. The kiss isn’t short enough to be a peck but isn’t long enough to be considered making out. You pull away enough to be able to see his face, “Is to get to know you better too.”

He chuckles, “Y/N, your lips taste like spiked punch.”

Pouting, you bump your forehead into his, “All I drank was whatever you saw me have at the balcony, I swear.”

He pecks your nose, your frown immediately wiping away as he does so, “I trust you.”

You smile, giving him a peck on the mouth, “As you should.”

“I’d kiss you again, but you probably can’t stand being here any longer. Let’s get out of here.” He tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You slide your arm onto his, interlocking his fingers with your own, “I think you’ve already completed your resolution Taehyung. You seem to know me so well already.”

Pushing through the crowd, he hooks an arm onto your waist while he shoves a path for you two to get through, “Too bad I don’t know where you wanna go though.”

You hum, thinking for a moment before your grumbling stomach answers for you, “I’m hungry, let’s go grab burgers or something.”

You don’t see the way Taehyung is fondly staring at you because you’re too busy trying to open the front door. At last, you manage to pry it open, stepping back outside while Taehyung’s holding you in his arms. It’s not that cold this time.

Taehyung’s hands land on both of your shoulders— turning you around to face him as he swiftly latches his lips onto yours. You stumble back, but his hand is quick to support you as he kisses you deeply. You kiss him back, letting your fingers curl around the curls of his hair.

He pulls back this time, letting his forehead rest on yours, “Y/N, I think you are the one that’s completed your resolution. How the hell did you know that I fucking love burgers?”

-

-

MASTERLIST

[sleepdeprivedghoul]

What’s Left of Me [BTS AU]

Words: 3.6 K

Summary: Jungkook was a typical college student. Nothing interesting there, his only friend, Kim Seokjin, or as he calls him, Jin, is terribly ill with an unknown illness that not even the doctors can prescribe. One night Jin asks Jungkook if he wants to play a game. Only the game isn���t what Jungkook thought. But it’s just a game right? What’s the worst that could happen?

Genre: Angst, Mature Content, Horror/Thriller. 

~ ~ ~

It was nearing midnight as Jungkook had arrived back to his flat after a long drive across town just to deliver some notes and cards to Jin, who was currently running a fever with a mysterious illness. The doctors weren't even a hundred percent sure what was wrong with Jin, maybe it was a strain of pneumonia?   

Yeah that has to be it, thought Jungkook as he slid off his shoes and went straight to his computer, he logged on and started to type up his essay on emotions and how they play into day to day life, but the emotion his professor gave him was quite difficult. It was sadness.

Sure the assignment was simple and all but never really experiencing true sadness he didn't know how to start it off. Besides a cheesy quote about feeling broken and alone. 

He felt like he was about to go insane, he never felt true sadness and he was sure his professor would want it to be about something really depressing over just, ‘I lost my pet cat named Pete,’ but something more.

WIth a loud beep his phone went off alerting him of a text from Jin:

 "Kookie thank you for the study materials!" 

Jungkook smiled and was about to send him a response when Jin replied again:

 "Have you played What's Left of Me? Or heard of it?"

“Honestly no... What is it?” 

Before Jin responded Jungkook reread the name of the game and typed it in on his search bar for What’s Left of Me, all that popped up was a book. Frowning he knew this is not what his hyung meant so he went back to the search bar and tweaked his search adding Game. What popped up was Google claiming an error that Google was not responding. 

“Odd...” He muttered before he tried to open a new tab only for the new same message to reappear. “You have to be kidding me,” he groaned and continually refreshed only to keep getting the same message and that Google had crashed. 

“Why?!” He exclaimed, brows furrowing as he looked over at his phone only to see a video link from Jin. Clicking it he heard a soft female voice, practically whispering all while there was a black screen. 

“Hi... I’m not gonna introduce myself because what’s the point.... Well obviously you’re here for my game What’s Left of Me. The game’s a bit different than your average game, there’s no shooting of others but decisions and story based themes, you the Player decides what happens. Nothing is reversible so play how you feel but do it carefully. I am giving you the extent of five players to choose from and that is all. Thank you for your consideration and I hope you enjoy.” 

The video ended causing a frown to play on the young males features as he texted his hyung. 

“That gave me the chills. Her voice was so sad, yet so familiar. WHY WAS SHE WHISPERING???” 

Sent from Jin at 12:03

“I like how her video was, her voice was soft and peaceful as it captures your attention immediately. I’m ready to play it!” 

Sent from Jungkook at 12:03

“Ok... Did you download it?”

Sent from Jin

“Yea are you going to Kookie?”

Sent from Jungkook

“It won’t even let me view the game.”

Sent From Jin

“Restart your computer.” 

Why, thought the younger male but did as told, he waited for the system to reload and as it did their was a new file on his computer. WHAT’S LEFT OF ME in all caps. “How did this get here?” Scared Jungkook looked around his dark room but nothing was out of place, he even scanned his computer for a virus. Nada.

“Did it work?” Texted Jin, Jungkook could barely breathe yet alone focus on the situation at hand. How did this happen?

“Yeah the game was already on my computer somehow...” 

“Huh strange, maybe you clicked download.” Responded Jin and as he read the message he shook his head, Jin didn't seem to get it. The game just appeared. He hadn’t even had the option to download it as it never popped up when he searched it. 

“No because I couldn't even find the game when I originally searched it.” 

Sent from Jin

“Computer was probs lagging but at least you have the game now. I think I want to play Namjoon. He seems interesting. What about you?”

Sent from Jungkook

“Erm hang on let me load the game, I haven’t open it yet.”

“K.” Was all Jin said as the younger male moved his cursor over the game and clicked open. As the game was loading an eerie song was playing in the background, Hell it wasn’t even a song, more so screeching and loud crashes.  Every now and then the screen would glitch out and he’d get a brief glance at a girls face. He was only at 10% as the game completely froze except for the song which was on an endless loop and began repeating the word why over and over as the depressed girls face froze on screen before him, a single tear running down her smooth skin.

“You left us...” She whispered before the game automatically shut down and sent Jungkook staring at his home screen, eyes wide and breathing rapid. “What the literal fuck,” he cursed as the game restarted and took him back to the loading screen yet it was all different. Instead of a sad song on loop and the sad girl, the game played a soft happy tune as the background was all black and the title appeared in a bloody font. What’s Left of Me the words practically dripping down the screen as a candle flickered beneath the text casting long shadows revealing a room. 

He had to admit this game had some freaky cool artwork. He clicked the title, not really sure what else to do as there was no options for the game. His options appeared before him carved into the desk that the candle was sitting on. The game title was on the gray wall behind the candle. 

Jungkook read his options slowly and wondered if Jin saw the same things as him. 

Continue Game

New Game

Leave?

Curious as to what Continue Game would do for him, since he’s never played it before and was sure no one has played it on his computer he clicked the option. The game file loaded and he was quickly inserted into a dark bathroom, a young man with copper hair, almost golden, was crying in the middle of the room. The only sounds besides the poor males soft spoken sobs was the sound of the bath running and pouring out onto the tiled floor all around the sobbing man. The game glitched and instead of water surrounding the copper haired male it was now a dark red substance which Jungkook could only assume was blood. He was no longer crying but screaming at the top of his lungs, “WHY WHY WHY!” His dark gaze looking dead at the screen, his eyes finding Jungkook’s, it was if he was was aware of Jungkook watching him. It was like the male wasn’t in the game.

Jungkook’s throat constricted with fear. The game crashed and he was back to the main menu. He most certainly wasn't going to try to continue that again unless it was his own saved progress, but even then he still didn't want to do this. 

Why is he even considering this game? For Jin, he softly reminded himself. But why did Jin even want to play this game, it was so freaky and weird. Did Jin not get the same intro as him? Maybe Jin was smarter than him and decided not to try and continue the game, speaking of the Continue Game option that was no longer present instead it said, Can’t Continue Something You Never Started or Cared For. 

Chills ran down his spine as he took a picture and went to send it to Jin who had been blowing up his cell. Jungkook didn't even read his messages from his hyung as he instantly went to send Jin the freaky message from the game. Only the test wouldn't go through, he was shot with an error. “What the Hell?” He grumbled and tried once more only for it to not send. 

“Why’s this happening? I paid my bill!” Biting his lower lip in confusion he looked at Jin’s messages and hoped his hyung would understand his technical difficulties. 

 From Jin sent at 12:10

Jungkook you there?

Hey did you start the game?

Kookie, kookie, kookie?????

Ok spam time 

Hello

What does a janitor yell at a party?

SUPPLIES! hahaha get it? Supplies 

I’m worried you alive? 

Wait are you asleep? 

If so sorry. Send a bunny emoji if you’ve been kidnapped.

I’m gonna start the game, Namjoon is pretty cool and looks good. What about you? Who will you play as, you have five options, all of them epic.

From Jin sent at 12:12 

I get it, you hate the game and you haven’t even started.

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled, Jin is so childish and impatient, he thought to himself and sent a quick apology text. Sent, he managed to send a text! His eyes widened as he tried to send the picture only the picture wouldn’t go through. 

Why was that?

Why was it that he could send an apology to Jin but not a picture? Did he not have enough storage? Was their text history too long? 

It just didn't add up. Whatever, he thought, It doesn’t even matter. It’s just a game. 

Clicking on the New Game option he was sent to a  character page. Five characters like Jin said, but there was an outline of a missing character, two actually. He hovered his cursor over both of them but all he got for their stats was:

Name: ???

Age: ???

Height: ???

Gender: ???

Description: ???

He looked at the outline and noticed the lock in the middle of their chests, he had to unlock them. How come he didn't see that when he was first looking at them? 

Whatever, just find a character and start the game so Jin won’t be upset. With a sigh he moved his over a young male with a blonde mullet, a boxy smile on his perfectly proportioned face. 

Name: Kim Taehyung. 

Age: 23

Height: 5′10 

Gender: Male

Description: Taehyung is a happy go lucky, one of a kind guy, unlike any others that you will ever encounter in life. 

Already interested and a tad bit jealous of how happy and lucky Taehyung gets to be while he, himself, is worried for Jin’s health and stressing over stupid projects that are all nearing there due date. Shoving some his hair out of his face he moved on to the next character, the one from the Continue Game option. Curious as to see what was wrong with him and who he was he began to read the stats.

Name: Worthless

Age: Does it matter? I’m just gonna fade away...

Height: Too short just like life....

Gender: Dead

Description: You let me die, it’s your fault. Why didn't you care about me? How could you let me go through with it? WHY’D YOU LEAVE ME?

Shaking his head with a low sigh escaping his lips, he wondered who was this character and why was he so depressed? But also curious of his stats, he asked Jin. 

Sent from Jungkook at 12:13

Jin who is the copper haired male after Taehyung?

Sent from Jin at 12:13

Who Jimin? Y? 

“Jimin,” whispered Jungkook softly almost as if he was testing out the name. His name was so nice compared to his description. The characters blank stare held his gaze, honestly Jungkook felt a bit guilty for this made up character. 

Sent from Jungkook at 12:15

I couldn't see his stats 4 sum reason. :/ 

Sent from Jin at 12:15

The pausing of this game is janky... Lemme go back to the lobby. Pray that my game saves

Sent from Jungkook at 12:16

I pray it saves

Sent from Jin at 12:17

Okay Name: Park Jimin Age: 22 Height: 4′8 Gender: Male duh Description he’s a chill dude with a beautiful smile.

*Height 5′8 lol he’s not that short. That’s about it.

Sent from Jungkook at 12:17

Is this some sort of dating sim?

Sent from Jin at 12:17

No most certainly not. I don;t really know what it is, but I know it’s not a dating sim. Each character has a different story, that’s all I know. 

Sent from Jungkook at 12:18

This is some srs bull.

Sent from Jin at 12:18

Please don't use acronyms Kookie. 

Jungkook laughed and shook his head at his hyungs requests when, he too, use abbreviations such as why to y.

Sent from Jungkook at 12:18

Yes boss

Sent from Jin at 12:19

😈 Lol picked your character yet?

Sent from Jungkook at 12:19

No not yet, my game’s acting up. 

Sent from Jin at 12:19

Well hurry up so you can play!!!!!

Sent from Jungkook at 12:20

Ok gimme a minute.

Placing his phone down in his lap he moved on to the next character, a tall male with silverish purple hair with deep brown eyes that seemed to be able to read your soul and a soft dimpled smile. 

Name: Kim Namjoon

Age: 23

Height: 5′11

Gender: Male

Description: A bookworm, a really hard worker with excellent grades, who’s also a natural leader. Pretty cool guy once you meet him. 

Jungkook chuckled at the last part, “once you meet him.” Like he’s gonna meet Kim Namjoon in person, he’s just a character in a video game, closest thing he’d get to meeting Namjoon is playing as him. Which he won’t because this is Jin’s character. 

The next character’s picture was sweaty, his tongue out, black hair in his eyes, as a black hat rested on his head. 

Name: Jung Hoseok

Age: 24 

Height: 5′10

Gender: Male

Description: Hoseok, Hobi, is an all around ray of sunshine, with constant happy vibes. Always there for you when you need it, remember?

He frowned, why is it like the game is talking to him directly, “Fine if I play as Hoseok or Hobi, whatever his name is I’ll remember that he’s a ray of sunshine to help others.” He grumbled but a small smile played on his features as a warm aura seemed to enclose around him. 

Moving away from the friendly happier male he moved onto the one dressed in all black, a mask covering his mouth and nose as his dark brown eyes stared at him judgingly. He was more ominous looking than scary.

Name: Min Yoongi

Age: 25

Height: 5′9 

Gender: Male 

Description: Always quiet but observant, known to stand up for those in need, tired but always working. 

Nodding his head, understanding each character he finally decided that he’s play as Taehyung. He would’ve played as Jimin if he was able to, but the game simply would not help let him. 

Starting up as Taehyung he was given the option:

Play as Kim Taehyung?

Yes?     No?

“Obviously,” he said with a chuckle as he selected, yes, the game loaded with ease, compared to when he first started the game. A small transition of a butterfly landing onto a window sill was played in the background, then he heard the sounds of a camera snapping a photo. 

“Babe,” came a male voice in the background, the loading symbol stopped as the clip began to play. The light filtered into the room showing a few dust particles floating around as the butterfly stayed on the sill slowly moving it’s beautiful blue and black wings. 

“In here,” came the females voice, the door opened and the floor groaned with the males footsteps. “Are you coming, we’re about to leave?”

“Sorry was taking a picture.”

“You’re obsessed with that thing.”

“Photos keep memories.”

“Yeah but can also steal a part of your soul.” Spoke the deep voiced male jokingly as the girl laughed. What a sound to be heard, it was like music, so carefree and soft. Jungkook wished he could listen to her laugh all day, she seemed so happy, unlike any other girl he’s ever met and tried to talk to.

“Well this camera can’t have my soul,” she stated promptly. The camera angles changed revealing a small girl, her hair covering her face, until the man, who Jungkook recognized as his player Kim Taehyung, moved his hand to her face brushing her short dark brown hair away from her eyes. “You look so much better showing your face.” She shook her head, the hair falling back into her brown eyes as her dimpled grin moved to crinkle her eyes. 

“Whatever oppa,” she teased softly punching his arm. “I’m serious,” he muttered pulling her closer to him, her hands rested upon his chest and the camera still in her left hand. The butterfly flew past the camera showing the two lovers. 

The room changed, it was no longer the happy loving environment that Jungkook was originally thrusted into. Instead his character was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. Every now and then he would repeat a name, it was obviously the girl that he was with name.

“Elli,” he whimpered, even his dog was sniffling and whimpering. His puppy rested his head on Taehyung’s thigh. Both of them were honestly too sad to watch causing Jungkook to push away from his desk and move to his bed. 

“What the fuck is this game? It said Taehyung was a happy go lucky guy, what the fuck happened to that?” Raking his fingers through his hair he took a deep breath and texted Jin:

I can’t play, I have class tomorrow 8 am. 

He lied flatly and went to send only it wouldn’t. “Again with this bullshit?” He questioned aloud pissed, throwing his phone across the room and onto his bed. “Fuck this,” he grumbled as he moved to his couch, falling heavily onto the cushions and looking up at his ceiling in annoyance. 

Through the corner of his eye he noticed the television had turned on. Must’ve sat on the remote, he thought to himself as he sat up and looked under the cushions only to find nothing but a quarter, three pennies, a dime, and a moldy cheeto. Scrunching his nose up in disgust and grabbing the 38 cents that he had found he placed the cushions back in their place. 

He turned on his lamp and continued his search only for the lamps light bulb to explode, shards of glasses flying through the paper lamp shade and nearly cutting him. Startled by the destruction he looked all around the room, his eyes landing on the Tv and to the message displayed through the static. 

juSt go bAck to the VidEo gaME ! 

The message was pretty clear of what it wanted him to do. The younger male didn’t understand why only a few letters were capitalized, and not even in a specific order or why there was two words underlined. Looking back and reading the all capitalized letters he wrote them down:

S - A - V - E    M - E 

A shiver ran down his spine at the startling code, maybe it was unintentional but something in his gut told him, it was there for a reason. He did the same with the two underlined words: 

SAVE THE GAME 

Is what the message came down to. Who was he even supposed to be saving? And why was his television telling him to save the stupid game? It didn't make sense, all of this was just making him frustrated. He shook his head and unplugged the television having enough of this shit. 

“I’m done!” He exclaimed as he moved onto his bedroom, all the lights in the house began to flicker on and off. “Oh great my life now is becoming Paranormal Activity, fun.”

With a groan he went back down the hall and to his computer, the screen glowing at him. “Now how do I even save?” He grumbled trying to find a way to save the game without losing what little progress, technically none, that he’s made so far. 

With a roll of his tired eyes, he pulled up the options and found nothing useful on saving the game. “How the fuck? What is this even? This game,” he groaned out annoyed, ready to just log off his computer and restart Taehyung’s intro scene. Exiting the options he was brought face to face to Taehyung's sad, blood-tear stained cheeks, thanks to the new camera angle. What made it even more creepy was the twisted boxy smile on the male’s face as he stared right into the camera. 

Jumping back startled, and nearly falling out of the chair, Jungkook released a slight yelp as the character began to speak to him, almost directly. 

“Aren’t you gonna save me? Or are you, too, just gonna abandon me like all the others?” 

Two options appeared before him in a dark red, dripping font:

Save ME 

OR

Abandon ME

Hesitant of what the two options meant he hovered his cursor trying to decipher what he should do, when he realized that this was the way of saving, or so he hoped. 

[moosoobi]

Confessions

In the night: Chapter 2

T.Jeff- Hamilton: the musical 

Y/N can’t hold all her secrets. She’s tired of hiding. The people deserve the truth. Here’s her confession: the one she should’ve told us long ago

I started to write this chapter the day after I finished chapter 1, yet before the first chapter was even published (time management queen). As I’m typing this message, I’m currently distracting myself from finals LMAO. Anyway, I wanted to finish this chapter as soon as possible to give some explanation of the events in the previous chapter, so I hope I do exactly that. I’m still manifesting that I articulate through this story smoothly, please give me feedback <3 

MC (aka Y/N’s) POV 

Modern au 

Word Count: 5.4k

A few unrealistic realities, but I’m working with what I got

This chapter will most likely answer many questions about chapter 1 

THIS CHAPTER OCCURS AT THE SAME TIME AS CHAPTER 1! all events in this chapter line up with the events of chapter 1

Disclaimers: 

TW: violence, abuse, mentions of blood, themes of injury, itty bitty angst?

photo not mine <3

If you have any questions/concerns about this story, DONT BE SHY TO ASK ME! This is my first time writing a whole series, so I apologize if the plot gets confusing. 

-Now Playing: Broken Clocks by SZA-

Where to start… 

My attention was taken from Professor Washington’s lecture the moment I felt a pair of eyes attempting to pierce a hole in the back of my head. As I look back, I realize that it’s no one other than Thomas Jefferson, the spoiled francophile, or so people like the whisper, but gossip’s not my thing.

Upon being called out by Professor Washington, I couldn’t hold in my giggle as Thomas’s head ducks down in embarrassment. I suppose he sure knows how to lighten the demeanor in the lecture hall; It was a nice excuse to take my eyes off of Washington’s low-quality power-point presentation, but I appreciate that the man is trying. 

This class feels like it’ll last forever, and I contemplate if I could just perish in my seat at this very instant, yet Thomas’s presence seems to make it worthwhile. I don’t know him that much, or maybe at all for that matter, but since he’s been seen with a Schuyler, the locals around here can’t seem to keep their mouths shut about him. 

From what I’ve heard, he’s another silver-spoon raised boy representing Virginia up here in New York. A few scholarships here and there, as well as a trip to France for a semester. I don’t see what all the fuss is about; He seems like a pretty cool person, probably has an exciting life, and isn’t throwing away his shot. It’s odd, even with parents to piggyback off of, Thomas is very similar to a certain orphan I know. 

“Class is dismissed” Is all I heard from Professor Washington’s mouth before that obnoxious but relieving bell sounds off. 

Desperate to get out of this class, I hurry to put my stationery items into my burgundy-magenta backpack. You’d think after those turbulent years of high school that college would motivate me for fancier bags, but I can’t say no to my favorite color. It’s simple, won’t bring attention to my presence, unlike every other decision I’ve made in my life. 

After I finally finished packing up, I can’t wait to take a breath of the fresh, polluted air of New York City. I quickly spotted my roommate's car within the crowd of vehicles next to the sidewalk. He’s on time, as always, to pick me up from class, and I’m grateful that he sacrifices his time for me, but it’s not like he had a choice. I toss my bag into the trunk, surely crinkling a few important papers. Upon reaching the door of his expensive car, my roommate greets me with joy to see me. 

“How was class, Cherie?” 

Lafayette, my roommate, shoots a smile at me, his white teeth are almost blinding, but he always says I’m exaggerating. 

“Boring as always, but I’m still here, sadly” I say as I hop into the front seat of Lafayette’s car. He pouts in my direction 

“Ahh, c’mon, don’t be like that.” Once he acknowledges the buckling of my seatbelt, he begins to power up the car. “C’est la vie, Y/N” I roll my eyes, my hatred for him grows just a little more every time he says that. 

“Can we get McDonald’s?” I attempt to change the subject, earning a small chuckle from him. He prepares to drive off “You know I can't say no to you and your American junk food” 

And so we begin to drive off  

Lafayette and I indeed have a bit of history together. After I got mistakenly involved with Alexander and his clique, Lafayette was the next best (or worse) person to walk into my life. He’s sweet, charming, probably all the things Americans are not; the gentleman hails from France. Yet he’s so much more than that. 

Ever since I caught his eye at that obnoxious high school party, he and I hit the ground running. Disclosing the events which took place in his-

our bedroom won’t solve the problem, but the stubble on his jaw and the way he holds the steering wheel with one hand nearing my thigh reminds me of the unresolved sexual tension between the both of us. 

I’ve only been living in his apartment for a few months, an idea he proposed when I mentioned my dreadful rent. A nice view, nice coffee maker, and nice bedsheets were more than enough to convince me, but I know there’s more to that “nice” list that I shouldn’t disclose. 

Though I know his intentions were good, I’m sure he invited me into his abode to protect me from Alex. 

Since I began to band with Alex and his gang, Alexander’s been strict about getting me home on time. It wasn’t only because I was a helpless high school student, but also to prevent me from ratting him and his group out to the authorities. 

Upon joining Alex's posse, a strict curfew has been placed on me, only to ensure I stay safe at night, or perhaps to make sure I don’t betray them. 

Moving in with Lafayette made following this time limitation easier for me, especially since he volunteers to drive me home or takes a stand for me. If the unfortunate event of my arrival past my ‘bedtime’ timer occurs, Alexander ensures I pay the price.

Speaking of arrivals, Lafayette passes me a box of hot, salty fries and a smile spreads across my face. His eyes visibly soften as my entire demeanor changes.  

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best person ever?” I spilled my thoughts while stuffing my mouth with fries. He lightly chuckles, watching me. 

“Maybe a couple of times..” He prepares to drive off again “...too many times, actually.” he shot a wink at me. 

Blood didn’t have any time to rush to my cheeks before I could slap the side of his shoulder, causing him to whine in discomfort. I sigh before returning my focus to the steaming fries in front of me. The tension grows, and so does the silence between us. Eager to break the tension, I propose an idea. 

“Let’s go home?” we turn to each other at the same time 

“Oui.” 

---

I enter Professor Washington’s lecture hall and my attention is driven to the two curly-headed Virginians. I watch in secondhand embarrassment as Thomas Jefferson and his friend playfully argue in front of the entire class, seemingly a heated debate of the greatness of Mac and Cheese. One argues on behalf of the gooey pasta, while the other simultaneously retorts with a mix of “you’re so stupid” and “God help me”. 

Feeling a rush of confidence and suaveness, my brain urges my body to intervene in their conversation. Maybe it was to make new friends, or perhaps to stop the class from staring at their dumb dispute, but I swiftly walk over to them. The next few words to come out of my mouth fell into place oh-so-perfectly. 

“Hey, can I sit here?” 

Upon sitting in between the two Virginians, they introduce themselves. The calmer, self-collected man among the two introduced himself as James Madison, while the bolder, upbeat man introduced himself as no other than Thomas Jefferson. Both of them seemed happy that I interrupted and decided to reach out to them, maybe one was a tad more excited than the other. 

And ever since then, Professor Washington can’t seem to split up our trio. From childish jokes and a few inappropriate inferences, Thomas and James make great company. The idiotic smile that spreads across Thomas’s face whenever he’s capable of making James and I break our silence during class would become more annoying than Lafayette saying “C’est la vie” whenever I make a poor life decision. 

Nevertheless, Thomas and James dangerously remind me of Alexander and his goons. The abundant amount of self-praise and cocky remarks said by both Thomas and Alexander is almost astronomical. In the case of Thomas and Alexander’s meeting, I’m sure they’d be the best of friends. But likewise, I could also envision the two attempting to tear each other's heads off, the chaotic clashing of two powerful minds. 

They always know what to say and when to say it. I’ve never met anyone as clever as Thomas and James, and they’re even worse when they’re together.  

“‘ ‘s Adams here today? Washington told me to turn in my papers t’ him.” Thomas whispers as he eases into his chair, Washington’s booming voice seems to become background noise to us 

“Is he ever?” I reply, attempting not to giggle at my own response “I haven’t seen him since Washington initially introduced him to the class.” 

“Maybe he’s jus’ sick or somethin’. Kinda reminds me of you, James'' His head of curls turns to stare down James, in which James replies by rolling his eyes 

“He can stay home, he does the same amount of work there anyways.” James cleverly retorted. 

And that seemed to be our last straw before bursting out in laughter. Thomas’s body flung forward as he laughed his head off, James ducking his head to hide his glee behind his laptop, and I quickly slap a hand over my mouth to prevent anyone around us from drawing suspicion. But apparently, Washington wasn’t having our disguises. 

“Can the three of you even tell me what I just said?” Washington turns around from the board to scan the crowd, his eagle eyes find us quickly 

The silence was all we could emit, and soon enough, He turned back to his lesson. I sigh with relief; the last thing I need is to get kicked out of a class I don’t even pay for. 

…

...

“Washington sure got a shiny ass head. D’you think he uses shampoo and conditioner?” Whispered Thomas as he leans over to me 

And just like that,  we’re faced with the same struggle all over again.

—-

Lafayette adjusted the hot pan, erupting a few sizzles. The wall clock ticked, the hour arm froze pointing to the “11” written in roman numerals. Lafayette and I decided to agree on a home-cooked meal, and although it’s too late for an average dinner, yet too early to be defined as a midnight snack, I’m sure Lafayette’s cooking will satisfy me for the night. 

“Y/NN, would you prefer salt on your omelet? Or did you decide to be healthy tonight?” He said holding a salt shaker in the air to steal my focus from the swirling red liquid in my glass. 

My head lifts to meet his eyes. I tilt my head, the wine causing me to ponder for a little longer than I should’ve. He continues to stare at me, holding in a laugh, before I force myself to nod. 

“Yeah.. a little won’t hurt” I hear him chuckle at my drunken dialect, but I know the French man isn’t about to lecture me about English “Your wish is my command.” 

I watch as he conducts the kitchen perfectly. He knows where everything is, exactly what to add into the sizzling pan, maybe even the exact second to take the meal off the flame. 

“I thought you weren’t a fan of monarchy?” the sarcasm was evident in my tone “but I appreciate the submission” I shot him a playful wink, to which he responds with a pompous smirk

A few sips of wine later, I recognize notification that has been staring back at me for hours. 

1 Message from Thomas

A text from Thomas? And I’m barely seeing this now? I silently scold myself for giving into the wine before opening the message.

“Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?”

My eyes become glued to my phone. It was certainly necessary for me to reread Thomas’s text, I was unsure if the alcohol was beginning to make me see odd things, but I assured myself I was correct.

I could feel the blush spread across my face. Maybe it’s just the wine taking control, or maybe it’s the butterflies in my stomach forming every time I reread his message. A harmless invite, perhaps evoked from Thomas due to James stroking his ego, but I know James’ wouldn’t promote such a bold, straight-forward message. Though Thomas is known for his meticulous confidence and certainty, a message this simple could be notably deceiving. 

But a little socializing won’t damage my self-respect. “Be bold, Y/N” is what I used to tell myself at the beginning of the semester, and what do I have to lose? I begin to type my reply.

“Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way”

Sent.

 My introspection was soon interrupted by the screeching plate being slid in my direction by Lafayette, the steam circulating the meal 

“Y/N, Mangeons.” My head comes up from my phone, my eyes meet his eyes momentarily. 

“Thanks, Laf.” I reply before taking a fork from him and digging into the steaming meal ahead of me. Lafayette’s cooking never disappoints. Ever. 

My body couldn’t help but pick up my phone every few minutes to respond to Thomas’s messages, Though they were just the details of the hangout-offer he previously proposed, I felt enclosed in my little bubble while texting him. Those few moments of interaction with him somehow made my day better. I’m sure even Lafayette could see my radiating energy, but I’m not sure how he took it.

We’re technically not a couple; a few hookups and moving in together don't make us an official couple, right? 

“Merci, Laffy.” I watched as he visibly cringed at my poor attempt at french. “Let’s just stick to our mother tongues, angel.” He retorted. I laughed it off, yet inside his reply left a scratch on my pride. 

--- 

Another class of absolute foolery and childish inferences, and I can’t help but laugh as Thomas, James, and I exit the lecture hall. The New-York cold hits us harshly, but being about a month into this semester, students already know what to expect. 

It was indeed embarrassing, running to Lafayette’s car to remind him of your library study session. 

“Alright, I’ll pick you up before your curfew, okay?” He asked with one hand on the wheel. His faux-leather jacket contorting around his toned arms made it difficult not to remember the moments they shared around midnight. The imagery of their candle-lit room appearing in her head as he sat at the wheel stopped her from replying for a moment. 

“Y-Yeah sounds great. You’re the best, you know that?” She thanked him for sacrificing his time to make sure she arrives home on time. 

“You remind me all the time.” He sneaks in a small wink between his sentences “I’ll see you tonight, Cherie” 

Y/N smiled before turning around to prance over to her friends. Y/N heard the faint sounds of Lafayette driving off, sighing in relief

After briefly explaining my situation to the boys, we quickly head over to the library. 

A woman in a coral-pink blazer and pants set is waiting impatiently at a table she rented out just for us. “What in the world took you guys so long?” She pressured for an answer 

“C’mon Angie, that wasn’t even ten minutes.” Thomas rolled his eyes before removing his backpack and opening a chair for Y/N. Real smooth, Thomas, I can’t lie. He looked over to me, seeing stars in my eyes as I realize I’m standing next to the oldest Schuyler.

 “You’re-” She interrupted me with a smile, sticking out her hand to shake mine

“Angelica Schuyler. And you?” I swear her name sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard it around but I just can't place it. I do see her on my social media feed from time to time, and I must admit, she looks even more heavenly in person. 

“Y/N L/N.” My hand meets hers in a firm handshake. 

“Nice to meet you.” 

—-

At first, I thought nothing of it. 

Though Lafayette’s text at 7:30 (on the dot) did push me out of my zone, I did appreciate his promise to me. 

Thomas on the other hand seemed disturbed by my sudden leave, but it’s not like he’d understand. Alexander would literally kill me if I were home late.

But Thomas and I would continue to hang out. His evening texts would slowly become a weekly routine. Whether it was a scary movie or an ice cream date for just the two of us, he always found a way to spend time with me. 

“Don’t tell me that mint chocolate chip is actually your favorite flavor, darlin’.” He adjusted his position on the park bench and raised an eyebrow, his gaze focused on the green ice cream atop my ice cream cone “You might make me regret takin’ you out tonight” he chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile 

“You know you love me” I jokingly retorted, scooping part of my ice cream with my tongue, and relaxing against the bench.

It’s very rare to get to relax like this. Not only am I a fully-fledged college student, but also one of Alexander’s goons. The weekends are merely just ‘weekdays: the sequel’, but add forbidden literature and alcohol to that equation.

I look back up to Thomas, seeing his disgusted face. “Wait.. are you actually against mint chocolate chip ice cream?” I cocked an eyebrow towards him

He shrugged before chuckling “I recall telling you of my unfortunate arguments while visiting England..” 

“..so what does mint chocolate chip ice cream have to do with your political upheavals in a foreign country?” 

He smirked in an ‘all knowing’ manner. “Well, Darlin, if you did your research—“

“—You’ve got to be kidding me—“I start to wonder why I even asked 

“—you’d learn that the monstrosity in your ice cream cone, mint chocolate chip, originated in England.” He completed his statement with triumph “Ever since my disagreements in England, I swore to despise such a concoction until the day I die.” 

I looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t believe you did your research on English creations. You’re so dramatic sometimes” I respond 

“Hey, I wouldn’t be a Jefferson if I wasn’t.” He stared back to his cone, the mesmerizing ice cream almost reflecting himself back at him. 

We shared silence for a moment. Words were unnecessary when we were together. 

“I suppose..” Jefferson started “...I might be able to tolerate mint chocolate chip ice cream, but only for you, though.” He turned towards my direction 

My eyes soon met his. “Well, I’m honored to be your exemption, Jefferson.” I smile with triumph, recognizing my effect on him. 

He swiftly takes my hand, his skin feels burning compared to mine. Our eyes remain connected as he dips his head down to kiss the back of my hand. I attempt to hide the fact that my heart stopped beating for a moment, but the breath hitching in my throat wouldn’t help me at all. 

“Let’s drop the formalities, Darlin, you can call me Thomas now.” My hand remained between his. I try my best to keep my hand still, wanting to marinate in this moment forever. 

A new feeling courses through my body. Something unfamiliar. Perhaps it’s the charm of a Southern Gentleman. Maybe the feeling of being treated right for the first time, something I’ve never experienced from anyone.

What have I ever done to deserve this chivalrous kindness? 

‘What a gentleman’ I repeat to myself in my mind. What makes him so different from the others? 

From a simple kiss, I suddenly crave more.

More than the unresolved sexual tension between Lafayette and I. 

More than I was ever granted the opportunity to. 

Maybe ‘more’ is what I deserve. 

My mind bleeds with the thought of Lafayette, but Thomas seems like he has so much more to offer. What if I do deserve to be happy? I may not have earned it, but who gets to declare my right to happiness? I was once happy with Lafayette, but the times have changed

He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.

---

But no matter how much I enjoyed spending time with Jefferson himself, I was always the first one to leave. I had to. 

I remember the way his smile would fall at the sound of Lafayette’s car horn. 

The way his jaw tenses whenever my phone vibrates across the table 

Whenever Lafayette came to pick me up, I also can’t help but feel a part of my soul crack within me. 

“I’ll see you this weekend?” He kisses the back of my hand once more in an attempt to savor this moment, continuing to maintain eye contact.

“I’ll try, Thomas. Not sure if I’m busy.” I sigh with fatigue. “But I’ll let you know.” 

“Alright. Get home safe, darlin’” I hear him stand from the park bench as I wander to Lafayette’s car, his eyes following my figure. 

I hop into Lafayette’s car before taking one last glance in Thomas’s direction, watching as his figure begins to walk in the opposite direction that our car was heading. 

“Ahh, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me” his sarcastic tone wouldn’t pierce deep enough. 

I speak without thinking. “I do recall you claiming that you and I were never a couple, remember Laf?” My change in demeanor was certain to shut him up. And he did. 

He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas. 

I remained turned away from Lafayette as we drove through the city. The memories built between Lafayette and I constantly falls like a house of cards, but I prefer to avoid the subject.

Lafayette felt otherwise, yet respected my choice. 

He was the first to speak.

“Alexander needs me for a transport this weekend.” He stated, “I’m not sure when I’ll get back, so it’s very important that you get back from whatever plans you have before your curfew.” He takes a glance over to me and briefly meets my eyes 

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N.”

Ah yes, the monthly literature transportation of Alexander’s gang. 

The Notorious Sons of Liberty. 

A popular group roaming the streets of New York. But instead ironically of selling drugs or performing homicide, they produce and sell illegal, banned literature and disperse them to the highest bidders. 

How else do you think I pay for college? 

Although gang violence isn’t really their thing, that doesn’t mean they’re not in possession of such weaponry and devices. I’ve never seen anyone take literature as seriously as they do.

They’re also known for their bold publicity stunts, which are indeed fun to watch from a nearby coffee shop. Watching Alexander, Lafayette, and some other friends, John and Herc, run from the authorities on a Sunday afternoon, accidentally laughing at the sight of John tripping over his own feet, Lafayette mouthing ‘help us out’ in my direction. Very entertaining. 

On the contrary, their security on me has become tighter and tighter. I know they worry for the gang’s reputation over my safety, but it feels nice to imagine having a battalion of book-worm gang members watching over you. 

“I know, I know. You guys can stop treating me like a kid” I attempt to contain a giggle to portray my seriousness. 

He takes a glance at me before returning his attention to the road. “You cannot say that until you have another way home other than me.” He sighed rather loudly 

“Be careful, or I might do just that, Lafayette.” 

---

I sipped on wine and ate cheese at Thomas’s place without a care in the world on a Saturday night. Of course, I had to accept Thomas’s offer, I never knew how to say no to him. 

Jefferson has sure been taking his sweet time to put a title on us. Now, I’m no philosopher when it comes to dating, but Ice cream at the park, fancy dinners, and wine and cheese sure sound romantic. 

My night was going well. All until the 7:30 alarm on my phone rang, and before I knew it, everything began to go downhill

[events of chapter 1]

And next thing I knew, the cold New York air slapped my face, following the harsh slam of the apartment door. 

As my adrenaline began to settle down, panic rushed through my body. 

Fuck. At this rate, I won’t be home until after my curfew. Although my immediate instinct was to sprint my way home, those thoughts were quickly followed by the idea of passing out within five minutes. My apartment isn’t too far, but being fueled by wine and cheese doesn’t sound like the best idea. 

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N” echoed throughout my head. 

I begin to walk down the street before whipping out my phone to contact an Uber. 

The small talk produced between my driver and I worked a bit to calm myself down, but that would all change the moment I walked through my apartment door. 

Once I turn back around from locking the door, I’m met with exactly what I didn’t want to see at this very moment. 

Lafayette stood staring at me, his lips pursed with anxiousness, recognizing my significantly late arrival. 

Hercules, another good friend I’ve met through the sons of liberty, stood beside Lafayette. His mouth hung open in shock as he also recognized my mistake. 

John, the group’s smallest yet mightiest, leaned against the wall, perhaps planning my fate right in front of me 

And none other than Alexander Hamilton himself, sipping scotch on my couch, similarly to how I was not too long ago at Thomas’s place. The glare on his face quickly reminded me that I was in big trouble. 

“Y/N, I thought I told you—“ Lafayette began but was quickly interrupted 

“You’re late.” He swirled his drink before standing up. The clock ticked, and the hour hand notably passed the 8:30 symbol. I was not getting out of this one. 

Although I feared for the following moments, I attempted to contain my emotions within myself. I kept my straight face for the time being. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. 

“I’m well aware.” That came out of my mouth  a little too harsh for my liking 

“May I remind you that being out past your curfew could severely damage our image.” 

I saw John look over to Alex from the corner of my eye. The air became thinner if that were even possible, and I refused to meet his eyes.

“And I do recall reminding you of your consequences.” He walked towards me and I felt my heart froze. “Having you out so late could raise some suspicions among our competitors, L/N.” 

I couldn’t find the right words and resort to nodding instead 

“I always fucking told you—“ he harshly slammed his drink onto the table beside him “—not to test the waters—” 

“—I-I know—“

“So why the fuck are you stumbling in here past your curfew?”

 At this very moment, I wondered if I had pulled the last straw. 

I couldn’t speak. God forbid I spat out the wrong words. Contained within my thoughts, I didn’t acknowledge Alexander closing the distance between us. 

“Ow!--” I watched as Alex shoved me to the wall, the moment playing in slow motion in my head. 

Lafayette’s throat grew dry “Hey, Alex, Calm dow-” 

He was interrupted by the sound of Alexander harshly slapping me across the face. My hands quickly went to soothe what felt like fire burning my cheek. 

“We do so much for you, Y/N.” Alex growled 

The sharp pain in my side grew, almost echoing throughout my body. I could feel my body giving up on itself. I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time Alex has acted like this. 

Occasionally, Alex would stop by Lafayette and I’s apartment just to ensure I was home before my curfew, and he wasn’t the most forgiving. 

--He owns an apartment key and has every single one of his gang member’s location tracked on his phone. Sometimes I wondered what was so special about us to have to keep all of us in check 24/7--

One time Hercules and I went shopping a little too late after sunset, part of me felt like a reckless teenager, probably because I was. I still remember Alexander’s face when I entered my own apartment, he looks identical every time. 

In an attempt to shelter me, my body curled into itself against the wall. I shrunk to the floor, feeling his shadow intensely stand above me. 

“Arghh!—“ the sound spilled out of me when I felt Alexander’s shin connect with my rib cage. 

My lungs felt punctured under the pressure.

My arms felt like they could give out any second.

Part of me had wished I’d stay at Thomas’s place tonight, even if it meant telling him the truth. 

What a predicament I’ve gotten myself into. 

I looked up, wondering if my torment was over until I was met with a —Crack— Alexander’s knee encountered my face. 

It was only a moment before I could hear the shuffling of the others’ shoes. I prayed they were coming to help me out.

Alexander lifted his glass of alcohol, previously forgotten, and hauled it towards me

Crash! 

The piercing shards of glass combining with the stinging alcohol were the last thing I needed on a Saturday night. I didn’t notice the tears falling from my eyes until now, and the way my heart felt like it was just on a rollercoaster. 

I kept my head low, watching blood drip down my face and onto the floor below me. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one to notice. 

“Alex! What the fuck?!” I heard Laurens yell

“Are you trying to kill her?!?” I recognized Lafayette’s scream

Before Alex was able to make another blow, Lauren and Lafayette were quick to hold him back, attempting to calm him down. 

Hercules swiftly knelt beside me, the guilt was obvious in his gaze. I hated the pity in each of their glances towards me. He attempted to wipe away the blood from my forehead with a paper towel. 

Alexander fought back against the two, trying his best to prove his point. There’s the Hamilton we all know, unwilling to stand down no matter the cost.

Hercules turned back to me, his words were ready to leave his mouth from the moment we reconnected eyes. 

“Y/N..” He pulled me up and shoved me out of my apartment door. “..Run.” I almost stumbled into a nearby pole, but I began running, if running in my condition was possible, back to Thomas’s place. 

—-

[events of chapter 1]

The next thing I knew, I woke up in Thomas’s bed beside him. I took a moment to soak in the feeling of his satin sheets. Part of me can’t recall the events before I passed out in front of Thomas’s apartment, or maybe my mind refuses to remember them. 

The sun hasn’t risen yet. 

I turn to my side and reach for my phone, wincing from the pressure applied to my rib cage. 

The bright light of my phone hitting my eyes felt like I was transported to another dimension. 

54 notifications: 

12 calls from Lafayette 🥐

24 texts from Lafayette 🥐

1 text from Alexander 💡

3 calls from Mariah 💋

14 texts from Mariah 💋

“oh fuck..” I sigh, wondering how things will play out. 

Out of curiosity, I open the message from Alexander. Perhaps it’s an apology? Maybe a reminder? 

Alexander 💡: I know where you are, Y/N. Don’t drag your friend into this. Because I can.

Where I am? I ask myself

My heart dropped, remembering that Alexander tracks my location 24/7. He knows where I am at this very second. 

By escaping to Thomas’s apartment, I’ve just dragged him into this mess I’ve made. If my worlds collide, it would all be because I ran to this exact apartment. 

Panic once again rushed through my body. 

I need to get out of here. I need to leave. 

I slip out from under the sheets and grab my belongings. Unprepared for what’s to come, I steal one of Thomas’s jackets from his cluttered desk chair. I’ll give it back eventually, I thought to myself. 

After I put on my shoes I take one last glance toward Thomas. 

He seems so peaceful when he’s asleep, tangled in his blanket, not to mention his name-brand Mac and cheese pajama pants. 

I’m sorry if I drag you into this, Thomas, you just wouldn’t understand.

Taglist <3: @kenmacrumbs @strayblades  @laic2299 @ohsoverykeri

[cockasinthebird]

congratulations on reaching 500 bb, you deserve it!! can i ask for prompts 7 and 115 please?

Dear anon, Thank you!!! And thank you for sending in prompts!!

7. “I want you now.”

and

115. “Come here.”

Not in this particular order, though, but still used quite well, and while I did actually struggle just a tiny bit with deciding which idea I should go for of the numerous ones that came forth, I’m still v satisfied!!! I’ll probably have to write the other ones at some point, but first! 

1.8k words, enjoy~

-

“Harrington!” his voice carries over the roar of a dozen teenagers talking and gossiping throughout the cafeteria.

Everyone goes dead silent, staring at Billy, then they all whip their heads at Steve, who’s frozen with his teeth biting into a piece of meatloaf.

“Come here!” Billy shouts with his eyes burning holes into Steve.

Cautiously he turns to look at Billy, fists tight at his sides, brows pulled strong together in a stern stare.

“What did you do?” Nancy whispers to Steve, leaning across the table.

Jonathan sits next to her, honestly looking more scared than Steve himself. Everyone else looks almost excited, as if they’re waiting for a chance to see blood, the tension palpable in the air, thick and electric like a storm is brewing.

He doesn’t answer, simply drops his food on the tray and stands up, immediately causing a wave of not that hushed whispers.

Steve’s gonna get his ass kicked. Billy boutta tear Harrington a new one! Dead man walking.

It’s kinda hard to ignore. The ocean of students separate before him like he’s Moses as he walks through the crowd. They’re all laughing, snickering, jeering, as the old King Steve approaches the reigning Keg King.

Nice knowing ya, Steve. Good luck. Just give up now, it’ll hurt less. If I were you I’d run away.

But he doesn’t register any of it beyond simple background static, because the way Billy is staring, leering, is setting his soul aflame, triggering his fight or flight instinct, getting him a tad bit too excited.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Billy hisses at him, canines exposed through a scowl.

Steve frowns right back, crosses his arms. “I dunno, you tell me.” They’re standing so close that he can smell Billy’s cologne, feel his harsh breathing against his lips.

Billy looks away from Steve and over his shoulder, going from one peer’s curious gaze to another’s bloodthirsty one, then snarls, “What the FUCK are you all staring at?”

And at that they all scramble around, returning to their places, but it’s painfully obvious that they’re still paying attention, glancing over shoulders with perked ears.

A fist closes around the fabric of Steve’s expensive, short sleeved, open button down.

“Not here,” Billy whispers sharply, nostrils flared, a finger rubbing against the slightly exposed patch of chest hair Steve has to offer.

-

Steve gets pulled along by the shirt, out of the cafeteria, down the halls of Hawkins High, outside, underneath the bleachers, and isn’t released till Billy shoves him against the chain link fence that spans the outer borders of the football field.

Within a second Billy’s on him, lips meeting roughly with such a deep hunger it leans toward too much, but Steve follows his lead, moving fingers up to pull at the golden mullet, breathing ragged through his nose.

Billy’s thick fingers tear through the buttons of Steve’s shirt. He has been staring at him all day, the pale blue shirt having been opened just enough to expose the top of his chest, a hint of hair, and it is a fair move on Steve’s behalf, considering it’s at the start of summer and sweltering hot, nearing 90 degrees already. 

But Billy hates it, in a sense, as he could not focus all day, Steve’s pale skin just teasing him, daring him to stare, inviting him to touch. And perhaps it’s because he’s seen Steve fully naked, flushed, moaning beneath him, marked up in purple and red, that he can’t just go on about his day whenever Steve shows just a bit too much. Short shorts, tight jeans, crop tops, and unbuttoned shirts. It just flicks a switch now.

As he leans away from their brutish kissing, he stares at the patch of hair now fully on display, then catches Steve grinning like the cat that ate the canary. 

“You wore this shirt on purpose, didn’t you?” barely an actual question as Billy runs his fingers through Steve’s dark, rather soft, chest hair.

“I did,” he responds, sounding a bit more winded than Billy. 

“You know what it does to me,” another clear statement.

“I do-” Steve starts with a sensuous chuckle, but winces an interruption as Billy tugs on a few strands of hair. “Ah-h, asshole.”

But they both laugh at that, humoured by Steve’s obvious teasing and insinuation that follows wearing this shirt, unspoken but still heard. Billy leans in, doesn’t kiss Steve even as he opens up with wanton; his need to taste Billy again palpable.

“God,” Billy growls out hot, and Steve eats it right up, squirms a bit under the hand flat on his pecs. “I want you, now.”

“Hmmm…” Steve hums as if he’s actually contemplating something, as if it wasn’t his plan from the start of his morning to end up like this. “How?”

-

Billy spreads his legs out on the backseat of the camaro, not that there’s a lot of space to do so, but enough for Steve to kneel there, balanced precariously on the edge of the bench, as he kisses Billy; a bit softer now but no less passionate.

As Steve makes his way down, across the jaw that tastes of aftershave, the neck that smells of cologne, the chest that beats like a drum, Billy thunks his head against the window, gazing at the tree tops surrounding them where they’re parked in the forest.

Wet, eager, pliant lips follow right behind where Steve’s fingers undoes the buttons of Billy’s dark fuchsia shirt, tongue out to taste the summer on his skin. When he reaches the border of jeans and pulls at the belt, Billy looks down at him to run a hand through his hair.

Brown eyes shoot up, dark and amber, filled with lust, desire and a certain tenderness they haven’t addressed yet. Which Billy doesn’t really want to, just in case it would ruin everything, because he doesn’t believe he can trust his own heart with such a delicate matter, with such a pretty boy.

Steve raises himself to kiss Billy, pushing his tongue in to curl them together, sweet and wet and dear, before he pulls off by an inch with a complacent smile.

“You were really convincing back there,” he laughs quietly, unhooking the belt.

“Oh yeah?” Billy chuckles back. He’s got one arm resting across the backseat, the other up to grab at the headrest for the driver's seat.

“Yeah, had me worried for a moment.” A button pops free and the zipper runs loudly.

“Good, ah-” Billy bites back a moan as Steve’s warm and slightly sweaty hand reaches into his trunks. “Wanted to- fuh-ck- wanted to sell it, make it believable.”

He gasps and groans as Steve works his hand along Billy’s full erection, staring down at those soft, pale fingers squeezing around him.

“Shit Stevie…”

Steve chuckles warmly, smiling as wide as he can go, eyes lidded and heavy with a heated gaze at how Billy becomes breathless by his touch. He scoots down the seating, lying down as much as he can, legs bent into the air, as he faces the girthy cock that throbs in his grasp.

Looks up through lashes to watch how Billy bites into his lower lip, brows pinched together with anticipation as Steve pulls his dick free from its reins. Feels a gentle hand petting his hair when he skims his lips across the burning skin, runs his tongue from the base up to just under the head, following the curve of it with the tip of his tongue.

The hand in his hair is heavy, comforting, pleading, and Steve opens his mouth wide, smears the droplet of pre against his flat tongue, then sinks down on Billy’s cock, stretching his lips around the thickness of it.

Instinctively Billy bucks his hips up, making Steve gag loudly - but he doesn’t pull off, just makes a slightly annoyed sound as he adjusts to the intrusion prodding at the back of his throat.

“Fuck! Fuck, sorry Steve, you just- ah- yes-” at least he tries to apologize, but the way Steve has the head of his leaking prick rubbing against the palate of his mouth makes it a real struggle not to thrust into that gorgeous, slippery heat.

“Mmh, arrh, look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock like that, baby,” Billy moans out as Steve starts bobbing his head; fingers tugging on his hair to set the right pace.

Steve says something, not meant to be heard, rather for it to vibrate off of his tongue and through Billy’s steely erection, making him leak worse, groan louder, as Steve swallows around the head.

"God, fuck- you suck dick so so good, harrh- ahh-" 

With both hands in his hair now, Steve moves faster, rolls and twists his tongue, pressing against the bulging veins, swipes against the weeping slit before daring to push his way down to nuzzle his nose against Billy's crotch. 

"F-faster," Billy begs as nicely as he can, voice on edge and rough. 

And Steve's happy to oblige; let's himself be controlled by Billy's eager lust, fists lifting him up till only the head of the thick cock is inside of Steve's mouth, then gently but with intent thrusts back in. 

It's sloppy and obscene as he fucks into Steve's throat, throbbing erection drenched in spit, drool running down Steve's chin as he relaxes. 

"Yeah, fuck, I'm-I'm so-" Billy trails off with a loud groan, thighs tensing, head hitting the window as he throws back, shoving Steve fully onto his dick as he cums, a lot, warm and salty and overflowing almost. 

Steve swallows the best he can around Billy's cock, like he's sucking on a lollipop, hollowing his cheeks, working the muscles in his throat to milk Billy dry. 

As Billy gasps for air, chest heaving, prick softening up real quick, Steve pulls off and licks his lips all satisfied, earning himself a breathless laugh from the other. 

He makes a bit of a show of it, really letting his tongue slide from one corner to another, mouth wide open, crawling further up to then kiss against Billy's lips with an all too happy smile. 

"You're incredible," Billy hums with appreciation and something close to adoration, his fingers brushing through Steve's thick hair, caressing him and soothing where he's been yanking and pulling on dark locks. 

"I try," Steve chuckles.

"Your turn now." And Billy starts pushing Steve away, looking down at the bulge in his jeans, clear as day. 

But Steve shakes his head and catches Billy's hand as it initiates a dive for hard flesh. 

"Later. Pick me up after school and I'll let you fuck me blind here in the backseat," Steve purrs directly into Billy's ear, then removes himself entirely to climb back into the passenger seat. 

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Pecks and Clementines (George Luz x Reader)

Author’s Note: After this, I’ll shortly open my inbox so please stay tuned! I apologize in advance if any of my lovely readers are allergic or dislike clementines hnhh. Also also- I love you guys, that is all.

Warnings: just a few swear words, nothin’ too major +its pretty fuckin long cause ahaha slowwww burn with luz hnghh 

Words: 7.1k (my essays are quaking)

Description: A simple interaction shared between you and George leaves him enamored and he finds himself having feelings for you. You soon follow suit. Who knew giving clementines could get you someone as amazing as George?

Taglist:  @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi,@noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @gutsandgloryhere, @hihosilvers, @rayleighshughes, @floydtab, @wexhappyxfew, @sherlollydramoine, @meganthesunflower, @3milesup, @jamie506101, @sunflowerchuck, @softlieb, @k-websters, @punkgeekchic, @speirs-crazy-ass, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant, @runtdrummer, @fromtheoldtimes​

+if ya wanna be added, dont be afraid to send an ask or dm!

-----------

A gesture was all it took.

What happened wasn’t even something intimate; it was more of a touch that was commonly shared by acquaintances or strangers rather than lovers. To briefly put it, that gesture was just you offering him a clementine. He remembers how he was fixed upon the bright orange clementine in your soft hand, ripe and just begging to be peeled and eaten.

A kind, old woman generously handed you plenty back in England and so you thought you’d share. George was the nearest to you and so he was the first one who received the sweet citrus fruit, something he never thought he’d be thankful for.

Passing it along to him, you thought nothing of the interaction as a mere act of kindness. However it felt like so much more. How an act as simple as that made him burst into flames is an enigma. Not to mention how your hand ever so softly brushed against his. The touch lingering mere moments longer after the deed was done and George couldn’t help but feel just a tad disappointed when it finally disappeared.

He didn’t even know if he felt it... But he did, and with that one coincidental incident--he was hooked. A magnetizing presence was what you had, and like a piece of metal, George was instantly drawn to you.

Who wouldn’t?

There was something unique about you, something he had never seen or experienced before. That moment back in England felt so far away but also felt like it just occurred yesterday. The technician thought about you for weeks, the beautiful and more than capable soldier who put up with the company.

(Y/N) (L/N)... (Y/N) (L/N), he kept repeating in his head, your name ingrained in his head and it spilling out of his lips like a mantra. Thoughts about you in his head bouncing around like how a ball would when thrown against a surface.

The young man couldn’t identify how to describe how he felt, what he was experiencing only categorized as a deep and sensual longing. Of course George knew that it was way more than a passing fancy, for it was exponentially deeper. Complicated were the feelings of love, and George was yet another who got caught in the mystery of it.

His heart fluttered whenever his honey brown eyes laid upon yours, that radiant (E/C) hue that seemed to reveal your innermost secrets yet simultaneously concealing them from the outside world. Of course for the past few months of his newfound attraction towards you, he’d dismiss it as nothing serious.

But one cannot plainly deny fate and George soon accepted that fact. Now, he made more of an effort to see you--to interact more with the woman who’d captured his heart. But moments with you were scarce, making it even more a reason to cherish and savor them for as much as he could.

Easy Company had been staying in Normandy, the events of D-Day all too fresh on everyone’s minds. A break was what they needed and the men indulged themselves in the quiet and peaceful moments before they would move out again. They were stationed in a quaint town where they were now resting.

Perconte was showing off the many watches he had snagged from dead soldiers to Blithe, who was only silent and once again zoning out. Banter was frequent and it comforted the both of you, a homey and cozy feeling enveloping your forms. But all good things come to an end and Welsh had told the company that they would be capturing a town called Carentan. Welsh had just informed the men, who were still tired and perhaps a bit sluggish, that General Taylor would be sending the whole division for this.

“Remember boys, maybe three days and three nights of rough fightin', and you will be relieved!'" George rang out towards the group. The ebony haired man receiving a few laughs and an especially amused look from 2nd Lieutenant Welsh as well. George cracked a smile of his own as he continued.

“Another thing to remember boys, flies spread disease, so keep yours closed.” Laughs were plentiful then, one soldier even jokingly telling him to shut up.

Then… That’s when he heard it--your laugh. George had never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life, and for once in the war, he felt like he was floating his way to heaven. He never noticed you were so close to him, as he was preoccupied mimicking the  General himself. George let his jaw go slack and gazed at your twinkling eyes, your lips still stretched in a smile. His own orbs never left your form and while his mouth was parted, no words came out.

“Ello, Georgie, you were imitating Taylor a lil while ago, what’cha mimicking now? A rock?” A devilish grin was on your face and George felt himself heat up, a light rouge color dusting his cheeks.

You chuckled as you walked alongside him with the rest of the men. The technician’s eyes only widened for a second before reverting to their normal size. “For your information Corporal (L/N), I was imitating a soldier who was left speechless from looking at a beauty.”

After his remark, it was your turn to flush. Turning your head sideways so as to not let George see your face from picking up any more color. Triumphant and feeling a bit proud in himself for making you react like that, George nudged you and you were met with a smirk. You two stuck by each other’s sides as you and the rest of the company kept on marching to their next destination, butterflies in your stomach the whole journey through.

Happiness was what you felt, and you found yourself experiencing them when you were with George. Silence took over you both, it was comfortable and quiet, even if the rest of the boys weren’t. For George, it wasn’t like him to be silent--little did you know that he was only like that because he was far too afraid to embarrass himself.

Prior confidence be damned, the poor boy was reduced to a puddle when around you, and you could say the same about yourself when you were around him too (you were just a tad bit better at keeping your composure than George).

Deciding to strike up another conversation with him, you looked up at him and your two eyes met for a short time before turning back to face forward again. “You all good, Georgie?”

“I’m good.” Warm hazel eyes glanced at your being next to his, the corners of his lips tugging into another one of his dopey smiles.

The way the sun played upon your hair, the beams reflected on it making it seem like you had a halo, and after taking note of that his smile only grew bigger. “Very good, (Y/N).”

And George knew that no amount of his jokes or imitations could hide the fact that he was head over heels.

------------

Carentan was nothing short of traumatic, it was something else and the thought of it left a foul taste on George’s tongue. It made him queasy just thinking about it and while he knew these sorts of things would happen, George would rather much prefer if these events were shoved deep in the back of his brain.

A lot of things kept his mind running though, like Skip’s hilarious recountings of what he did in his hometown, Johnny’s quips and sarcastic comments, and Guarnere chipping in his opinion on obscure matters. And of course, how could he forget you sitting right beside him--so close it was almost unbearable. You two joined in whatever conversation the men close to you were having and George felt as if he’d been blessed every time you giggled at one of his jokes.

Then all the sudden Smokey was reciting a poem he had made, much to the chagrin of Talbert and Smith. “Night of the Bayonet” as he had called it, and George exhaled air out his nose the moment he started speaking. Talbert and Smith were good-natured about it though, and every time Gordon finished a rhyme, a chorus of light chuckles followed. It was amusing, seeing one of your fellow soldiers like this and you were grinning throughout the entire thing.

“Never knew Smokey was Shakespeare.” You comment under your breath, and George perked up almost immediately as soon as your melodious voice flowed to his ears.

“Neither did I, but we’re all full of surprises aren’t we?” George playfully replied, reveling in the smile you sent his way before turning back to the standing soldier. Smokey went on in the background, making everyone in the mess hall chuckle.

Finishing his poem, with a slightly embarrassed Talbert and Smith still trained on his figure, Smokey took off his Purple Heart and announced how he’ll give it to Talbert. The mess hall erupted in whoops and cheers as Gordon handed it to a more than gleeful Tab. The atmosphere was right, and it was all smiles and laughs, how glad George was that Carentan was far behind them. Conversations danced in the air, easily coming out and before George could engage a talk with you, Lipton’s voice filled the air.

Words ceased and heads turned, their attention fixed on the Sergeant.

“Couple of announcements, men.”

“And woman.” George turned his head at you, his head of soft, dark hair taking up most of your vision.

His quiet comment and signature smile made you a bit more relaxed as you had quite stiffened up ever since Lip stood up. You playfully smack his arm and George raises his hands in a faux surrendering motion. The young man sticking his tongue playfully at you as you mockingly rolled your eyes before reverting your attention back to Lipton.

Apparently, their training had been canceled and you wrapped your arms around Babe (the replacement who you and Guarnere quickly got along with) and George briefly while cheering, the latter returning the gesture. Not even a second later, Lipton then announced how their passes were revoked. Smiles turn into light frowns and George’s happy mood deflates, he could feel your arms slowly dropping from his shoulders.

To further add salt to the wound, Easy Company wouldn’t be returning back to England. They were heading back to France, and they had to pack up all their gear and get a move on. Plans you had hoped to do in England were now unceremoniously pushed out of the window, your eyebrows now furrowed hard. You puffed your cheeks out in annoyance and in quiet exasperation as the building turned silent.

George and you exchanged glances at one another, George mouthing ‘what the fuck?’. That made you chuckle louder than you expected and during the Sergeant's announcements, and few men craned over to where you were, giving you a confused glance. Your head dipped from slight embarrassment and you teasingly glared at Luz, who only mouthed back a simple ‘not my fault’, which in return you softly elbowed his upper arm.

“As you were,” and with that, Lipton’s announcements were concluded.

Everybody remained silent for just a little bit longer, seemingly trying to process the new information, but it wasn’t long before chatter rose up. The table, however, was noticeably not the same old happy table they were before. Skip and Luz only looked down and you glanced at black haired individual, thinking of ways to cheer him up.

“Hopefully there’ll be sweet old ladies who give out a store’s worth of clementines in France too,” you said while nudging the technician.

The way you had said was almost wistful, dreamy even, as if you genuinely hoped that you would get at least one of the fruits that you have come to love. Luz immediately mentally makes a note to get you some soon.

George immediately let a wide beaming smile fill his face, his head replaying the memory of you ever so graciously handing him one--the moment where he realized that he had become smitten by you. In a singular moment, you noticed how the whole table seemed to brighten up. What you didn't notice was how George’s gleaming eyes were glazed and a light pink color situated itself on his cheeks.

“(Y/N), of course there’s plenty of them in France. I’m just not sure if they’ll give any to you though.” You feigned hurt at George’s joke, dramatically wiping nonexistent tears as you pretend to not stand George’s presence any longer.

Like a sappy movie, George imitated a heartbroken man and you broke your act, laughing hard at George’s ridiculous imitation. That same warm feeling returned to his chest seeing you clutching your stomach, laughing heartily at something he did.

It was surreal, transcending all human comprehension.

Skip and Martin were caught up conversing on a subject George couldn’t care less about and Guarnere and Heffron seemed to click instantly and they discussed things back in Philadelphia. Recovering from your fit of laughter was no easy task and you begged George to stop messing around or else you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“You’ll make history Corporal (Y/N), can you imagine--the first soldier to die of laughter rather than a battle wound.”

“And you Luz--the first soldier without a brain to survive a war.”

Proudly smirking at his widened eyes and gaping mouth, it was beautiful seeing it bloom into another one of his charming grins. With no one really paying you two any mind, your smile to George felt different. No longer was it friendly, it felt almost more at that moment. In the frame of just a few seconds, you knew that there was something else.

The chatting in the background kept you tied down to Earth before you could further float away in the moment you and George silently shared. You two were just chatting mere seconds ago, so why now does George look so…? Look so handsome, why now do you only notice that? It was nothing, it was natural to acknowledge an attractive person, and so you paid no mind to that fluttering feeling located deep inside of you.

Clinking from the white porcelain dishes snapped you out of you and George’s reveries and you blinked a multitude of times to get a sense of what just happened. Skip ruffled your hair as if to catch your attention, and it worked.

“The “I’ve-Been-Scared-Shitless-by-the-Ghost-of-my-Great-Uncle” look doesn’t really suit you two.” Skip had said to you as he finished messing up your hair, you turned to give him a deadly look only for it to look like a pout--which he laughed at.

George stood up from the bench and situated himself next Skip before gracefully putting his arms around his shoulders in an exaggerated manner.

“Are you done shitting on the face my mother gave me or is there something else, Mr. Warren ‘My-Dick-was-Baptized-in-the-Niagara-River’ Muck?”

Skip quirked his eyebrows up at George, and a sound that seemed like a combination of a snort and an ambulance left the dirty blonde man. Amused and cheery, the three of you erupt in a burst of subtle chuckles and your exuberant beam dies as you three begin to quiet down.

“Well, if you two weren’t so busy ogling each other, we’re goin’ out already. Need to pack our bags and head out to France, just our luck.” Skip’s thumb pointed to the exit, a steady flow of soldiers already heading out the wooden door.

You grumble quietly, remembering what Lipton had said prior to all this and George couldn’t help but notice your slightly sour mood. Skip was well ahead of you and George, as the both of you took your time getting ready to leave. That same comfortable silence in which you two were so familiar with encompassed you both, but it was slightly dampened from that inconspicuous frown you brandished on your lips.

Finally standing up and smoothing down the wrinkles that have accumulated on your skirt from sitting down, your gaze fell to George. He was patient and didn’t mind waiting for you, but on his face a concerned expression makes itself known.

You attempted to reassure him with a smile, which only seemed to make his eyebrows furrow more. Walking towards the exit and subtly pushing your way through the soldiers by the door, you spoke up about your worries and frustrations.

“I’m just upset, y’know?” Your hands gestured to yourself before falling limply to your side, the both of you subconsciously walked back to the barracks--already having memorized the path to it.

“Oh wow, who would've guessed? Jesus Christ (Y/N), your frown is as noticeable as Malarker’s hair.”

George’s response made you blow out air from your nose, your tense soldiers relaxing before they went stiff again. The raven haired technician placed a reassuring hand on the back of your neck, immediately relieving you.

“But don’t you think it’s too soon?” You questioned him, “We only just got back from Carentan and we lost 65 men there. 65 men, Georgie!”

Immediately hands turned your body to face the man in front of you, and your lips briefly opened from the suddenness. Even after you had already been put forward his hands rested on your shoulders, lightly gripping the fabric of your uniform. Your breathing evened out, no longer the erratic rhythm it took on just a few moments ago. The dirt road you two occupied to the barracks were surprisingly barren, despite the many soldiers who seemed to have been more than eager to head back.

“It’s alright (Y/N), it’s goin’ to be alright.”

“And if not..?” That tinge of desperation in your voice slightly broke something in George and it struck a chord in his heart.

He didn’t want you to be like this--in fear of what the future holds. To see his crush and closest friend look so defeated and frustrated left a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and he desired nothing more than to see you beam again. Oh how he wanted to just swoop you up and kiss you until nothing other than him was on your mind, but he restrained himself. A genuine look nestled itself in George’s sepia eyes, and his hands loosened their grip on your shoulders.

“Well, you still have me.” A shit-eating grin that exudes cockiness replaced his once serene one. He was obviously trying to cheer you up, and of course it worked.

“Oh, shut up, George.”

“And you think that you saying that will make me?”

Your hand went to playfully shove him, but his arm wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against his side. That same beautiful laugh of yours rang out in the air and the once tense and melancholy atmosphere from just a few moments ago dissipated like smoke on a rainy day. The sun could only hide in shame when it saw your blinding smile and George never felt so happy. Previous negative emotions also washed away, being replaced with a soft feeling of bliss.

You two walked back to the barracks, laughing on the whole journey there. The both of you seemed to forget how you still have your arms hanging around each other’s forms, too wrapped up in the conversation you shared with George. Either way, if you did notice, you didn’t think that you would ever want to let go. And for once you let your mind slip about what will happen in the war.

Like what George said: you did still have him after all.

-----------

Returning back to France wasn’t as bad as you had thought, maybe it was because you now grew closer to the ebony haired technician. Mourmand-le-Grand was a quaint little commune and news said that you’d be occupying the small town until Easy Company received orders for another assignment. For the most part, it was so serene, quite the opposite of what you were actually feeling.

A cacophony of little tiny voices of your head screaming at the same time and a discord and flurry of emotions swirled in your chest--restless thoughts about George occupied the space of your brain, turning it into a pig sty of complicated feelings.

After that day, your feelings for George surged through the roof, and what you thought was just as a simple crush turned into something more. Spending time with George went as usual, but you noticed a few additions.  Both you and George acknowledged this, but you two were too unsure of the signs to ever push things forward.

Maybe it was the way your hand was lingering longer on his shoulder, the way George looked at your direction for a few more seconds than necessary, or the persistent emotion that always flourished whenever you were near him. That same persistent feeling that could be compared to honey--sticking no matter what and saccharine sweet.

You two knew about your feelings toward each other, hell you even accepted the fact that you did! But how come you two never did anything else? It was if you two stumbled across a brick wall blocking you both from the next step, and instead of trying to find a way around it or break through it, you two just sat there. It just never picked up, and you really didn’t know what to do about it.

If someone were to tease you and George by calling you two a couple or ‘good match’, the latter would always erupt into flames. You would stammer, denying all claims even if they were so fucking obvious and clear as day-

Malarkey and Skip always pestered you to make a move, for he was as in love with you as much as you were with him. They’d try to goad you to finally make the relationship official, often asking you what were you waiting for. You dismissed their ideas and swatted their suggestions to do so, much to the chagrin of the two. It wasn’t as if you were afraid that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you knew he did. It was just…

God, why was it all so complicated?

“I don’t get it (Y/N), I really don’t,” Skip propped his elbows on the wooden table, “What’s the point of waitin’ around, you’re just making it harder for yourself.”

Malarkey scooted his chair closer to you and Skip, deciding to hop on the conversation you two are having, “Yeah, you two are practically a couple by now, why are you stalling?” He added, his flaming hair emphasizing the look of disbelief and confusion on his face.

“Well, it’s going to be weird, George is my friend!”

“He also happens to be a friend,” Skip raises his arms to put air quotes, “who is in love with you!” The blonde man quickly quips back, his hands gesticulating wildly in the air to highlight the absurdity of your predicament.

Not having the energy to respond with one of your own snappy remarks, you let Skip’s words sink into your mind. You exhaled and slowly slumped on your chair, your warm forehead making contact with the cool surface of the table. A groan from the back of your throat left your lips, your two confidants giving each other looks before turning back to focus on your hunched form.

“How about you tell him tomorrow?” Malarkey casually suggests, not noticing the way your eyes grow big.

The question punches you deep in the gut and you struggle to form a cohesive thought for a second. You raise your head to give an incredulous look to Malarkey, “And what makes you think I’ll agree to that-”

“Just think about it, (Y/N). You both still have your weekend passes, right? So maybe you two can have some quality couple bonding time with each other--tell him how you feel then you two can do whatever it is couples do.”

Your head went up at the idea, Malarkey grinning when he saw you do so. Your eyes flickered between Malarkey’s face and your lap, your (E/C) orbs deep in thought. Suddenly your face grew warm at the idea of you and George spending time together, and maybe actually going on a date. (Well technically you two actually went on plenty of dates and things like that, you both were just too stubborn to ever call it them that or admit it.)

“And you won’t even have to worry about the rest of us bothering you two because we’d probably be too shit-faced to.”

Skip let out a cheeky smirk and gave a knowing glance to both you and Malarkey, the both of you playfully rolling your eyes at the man. You contemplated for a few more moments, trying to wrap your head around what you’re going to get yourself into. It was a bit stupid--how you were waiting and putting things on hold. Maybe Skip was right about you making it more difficult for yourself and George. Your fingers and fingernails drummed against the wooden table as you pressed your cheek into the palm of your hand.

The two men only glanced at your figure, still idle on the chair. Waiting for an answer, you finally broke the stale, silent air. You released a breath you didn’t even know you were suppressing and gazed upon the expectant looks on Malarkey and Skip. They were on the edge of their seat, looking like a kid waiting to open their presents on Christmas.

“Fine. Tomorrow. If it doesn’t go well I’m going to replace your bullets with stale bread.”

Your thinly veiled threat, which wasn’t even a threat but more of a joke, didn’t deter Malarkey and Skip from bursting into a fit of cheers. Their loud whoops and shouts made you smile and gave you just a bit of reassurance for the next day. The blond and ginger man could be seen giving each other high-fives and patting each other on the back, clearly they had been anticipating this moment for a very very long time.

You knew these two will never shut up about them being you and George’s wingmen if the date goes as planned.

“Stop moping (Y/N), before y’know it, you’re going to be asking yourself why you didn’t do this sooner!”

You looked at Malarkey quizzically but as soon as you did your expression turned into something of the brightest of smiles. The two of them sunk back into their chairs, clearly proud of their feat of finally convincing you to go on an official date with George Luz himself. Both of these idiots are the both the best and worst things to have ever happened to you.

But you now had a date to worry about, and you prayed heavily for it to go well.

-----------

So that’s where you found yourself currently, fussing over your uniform even if you usually didn’t. Tilting your cap so it rested perfectly on your head and adjusting your tie ever so often. Adrenaline pumped throughout your body and a surge of excitement plowed through your being every few minutes.

You remember the pep-talk your two friends have given you (if you can even call it that, it was just Skip teasing you and Malarkey reminding you to stay responsible like a mother). Their reassuring smiles as they left the door brought a feeling of consolation to your nerve-wracked figure.

“--go get him, (Y/N)!”

“And don’t forget to use a condo-” You never shoved anyone so fast out the door so hard in your life.

“Why can’t you two just hurry up and get drunk sooner?”

Your exasperated tone did nothing to hide your clearly warm and flushed face, but your eyes could’ve most definitely paralyzed the men. Skip and Malarkey chuckled loudly before Skip stopped right in front of the door and took off his cap and bowed. Malarkey soon did the same gesture.

“You wish is our command, m’lady.”

Sarcasm flowed from every pore of that statement and you can only huff in amusement at their antics. The two men rushed to the pub where most of the other soldiers were, their arms raising up to bear you farewell, more words of encouragement leaving their lips. A cheeky grin flashed on Skip’s face as he gave you one last joking middle finger--which of course you returned to him.

Their forms disappeared around the corner and you took all your willpower to calm down your rapidly beating heart.

It was now or never, you had guessed.

Even with the two men always pouring you with comforting remarks and consoling you, your body soon soared above the skies with anxiety once again. Oh, you didn’t even know what you were worried about--you like him and he likes you.

In what part of this date was making you so nervous, you two had done it plenty of times. Perhaps it was because you finally came into terms that you did indeed have feelings for him, for all the other times you were so blissfully ignorant of your special bond with him. Shaking your head to relieve yourself of any more questions, you opted to stay silent for the duration of your wait.

So you patiently waited for George near the dirt road where you had told him to meet you. Your thumbnail was placed between your lips and your left foot drummed against the dry floor in a very antsy manner. Seconds rode on achingly slow, it was if they wanted you to suffer. Maybe this was a bad idea, and maybe he wasn’t going to come after all. Why’d you ever listen to those two? What good ever came from actually paying heed to them? With a defeated sigh, you kicked a pebble near your feet and maneuvered your body to head back to the barracks-

“Hey, (Y/N).”

Fuck.

So you turned slowly, your form still in the middle of trying to walk back. And as soon as you did, you thought you were blinded from the sheer beauty that George exuded. Your voice got trapped in your throat and you swore you forgot to even breathe for the briefest of moments. George Luz, standing in front of you with the brightest smile you ever saw him wearing. Both of your lips slightly parted as you took each other’s appearances in, gawking not so subtly at each other.

If you fainted, you wouldn’t exactly blame yourself--just look at him! His soft and short raven hair picking up light from the sun’s rays, giving it a sheer glow. And that damned smile of his, the same one he always wore--and every time they captivated you, this time was no exception. His uniform was clean and crisp, fitting him quite nicely. All you wanted was to stop time so you had just a moment to gather yourself. Instead of fluttering butterflies, you had a whole stampede of elephants occupying your stomach.

“You don’t look half-bad yourself, Georgie,” The amount of effort you put to make your voice sound presentable, you would’ve squeaked it out if you just let it out.

George only hummed in acknowledgement at your greeting, clearly distracted by your presence as you were with his. Your hands shuffled nervously, catching his eye. And the way your (E/C) gleamed as they always had, and despite you acting so flustered, that same spark you carried with you was noticeable. Your lips were caught between your teeth, and he laughed almost sheepishly when you noted his look. Beautiful… You were so beautiful in his eyes.

Time whizzed by and the date for which you two came for flew over your head. Stammering at the realization, you snapped out of daze and walked forward to stand face to face with George.

Forgetting the basket in his hands, George raised it up for you to see. You didn’t even notice that he had a basket for you, as you were too caught up admiring him. It didn’t even take a second for you to immediately recognize its contents. The vivid orange color of the many clementines that were nestled in the straw basket made you beam. After taking one into your hands and inspecting them, you turned your head to look up at George.

“You remembered! How’d you get these?”

Before his response could leave his lips, you pressed your index finger at his lips--effectively shushing him and making him flush.

“Wait no let me guess-” Your fingers snapped before pointing at him, “An old woman came up to you and ever so generously handed you these.”

George laughed and while shaking his head briefly, and that sent shivers crawling down your spine, and you felt aware of the close distance you two shared. You stepped away cautiously, as to not put attention on your form. George eyed the basket one more time before locking his chocolate eyes onto yours.

“Where’d you get 'em then?”

“Saw a tree down by the road-” Cutting him off you glanced at the orange citrus before playfully shoving George.

Shameless was George’s expression, he even seemed pleased even. You gawked at his nonchalant attitude, and George passed the straw basket to you.

“Oh, George you didn’t!” Strolling to your intended spot with George was filled with quips and chuckles, but you couldn’t conceal the surprised expression you held in your face. Eyes still blown wide and mouth stuttering. George stole these clementines… For you? He surely must be joking-

“Oh yes, I did.”

“George Luz, holy shit, where’s your dignity?” You teasingly questioned him.

While you seemed reluctant and against the idea of stealing the possessions of others, you didn’t even hesitate to let your fingers snatch up a small clementine from the basket.

“I never had any in the first place.” He replied, to which you giggled at.

Finally arriving at the place where you and George had agreed to spend your date at, you plopped yourself on the grass with the grace of a new-born deer. You were quite glad you and the technician decided this to be the place. It was simple, really, just a tree near a meadow. The spot wasn’t that far off from the main road and you had a clear view of the serene commune. The sky was absolutely beautiful, a gorgeous azure color--free of any clouds with the sun blessing you with its warm, welcoming rays.

The basket was set between the two of you, giving you a bit of space. The tree provided you with shade, the rustling of the leaves making for relaxing background noise. You would’ve heard the birds singing if it weren’t for the incessant pounding of your heart--it still manages to run a marathon even after it had surely been beating since the beginning of the day.

While your gaze avoided that of George’s, he was quite the opposite. George rested his eyes on your figure, trailing over your form and taking in every single detail. Adoration stretched across his face as the day continued, the two of you staying in a cloak of comfortable silence.

The clementine from earlier was still pressed snug against your palms, and to keep your head busy, you decided to peel it. Using your nails to shed the outer skin and popping a piece into your mouth, immediately hitting your tongue with the fresh taste. Growing bold, you picked a piece and reached your arm to offer it to George.

As if a movie reeled in his head, he was reminded of the first time he had ever interacted with you. George took the piece in your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm--offering him that same shock as the moment you two had shared in England. Muttering his thanks, he concentrated on how utterly peaceful you looked (even when on the inside, you were practically having all natural disasters occurring within you).

You grabbed another clementine from the basket, and once again offered a piece to George, who only looked pleasantly taken back. Breaking the silence, conversations soon flowed easily, like a stream. Hugging your knees close to your chest, you chatted with the black haired man, laughing and giggling ever so often at one of his stories. No longer the silence you two had shared at the beginning, but rather that same banter and ridiculous back-and-forth you always had with each other.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how I stole the neighbor’s dog?”

“You did what?”

“Don’t worry--I gave it back, naturally.”

Letting his words sink in, you grinned--your lips reaching the corners of your eyes. For a second, you felt slightly guilty for laughing at the whole thing. You raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to tell you more.

But you leaned back, still in disbelief at his words and still finding his antics just a bit amusing all the same.

“Well did I ever tell you the story of how I’m going to smack you so hard, they’ll give you a Purple Heart?”

His soft head of hair turned back in a flurry, his hands flying up to shield his upper arms. Giggling, you reassured him that you wouldn’t.

“I’m only joking, calm down!”

Settling down, George continued the many stories of his shenanigans back at his hometown. You gazed in wonder the whole time, nodding your head absentmindedly at each syllable that spilled out of him. The digits of your hands slowly inched closer to his, George also unknowingly doing the same.

The timbre of his voice and impressions left you breathless, your chest almost hurting from the countless times you let out a long chuckle. The grass felt nice upon the surface of your skin and you resumed your conversation with Luz, until you felt something warm against the back of your hand.

Visibly tensing up, you realized that George’s hand was on top of yours. Slumping and relaxing your shoulders when figuring out, George’s words came out fuzzy. Muffled and incoherent, you no longer paid them mind--instead bringing your fingers to intertwine with his. Your companion stopped speaking, sentences refusing to leave his lips.

Without even having to utter a word, the two of you were drawn to each other. Leaning in closer to close the proximity between you two, the basket placed in the middle was knocked over--the small clementines falling out and rolling a short distance before stopping. The clementines were strewn about, but you and George paid no mind. Tantalizing, his lips were right there in front of you--slightly parted and ever so rosy. And with a burst of passion, you leapt to capture his mouth in a slow peck, one that only lasted for a few seconds.

You did it. You actually did it.

“I love you so fucking much, (Y/n)--”

But before George could even say anymore, you silenced him with yet again another short kiss. Your reply was as clear as day, and George looked so enthusiastic and happy you could’ve giggled just a bit at his reaction if it weren’t for the current ardent atmosphere.

George’s cheeks were warm to the touch, and as you pulled away from the brief kiss he could only watch as you breathed heavily. Silently and deliberately, you leaned in--much slower this time. The peck from before laid forgotten in the fervent kiss you gave him.

Your (S/C) hand resting on the side of his head, cupping his head gently. Fingers that were once only loosely connected were tautly wrapped around her each other, his thumb brushing over the supple skin of your hand. In a moment that lasted for what seemed like forever, when you finally stopped--you only craved more.

It was so feverish and heartfelt, yet so tender and like a feather barely ghosting over the edges of your body.

Was this really the same George you knew all this time?

“Wow…”

That was all George said, he himself finding no words to even capture what he felt earlier. Captivated by you, George let his hands grab onto both of your wrists, slipping them down from his face so he can hold them in his own hands.

Deciding to tease him just a little bit, you smirked.

“Was I really that bad?” The way his face turned from a sappy, adoring look to a flustered emotion gave you happiness you couldn’t really fathom.

“Of course not- (Y/N)... You were-- You were amazing.”

“Real smooth, ain’t cha Luz?”

Still wrapped in each other’s embrace, Luz pulled you forward, setting yiu down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around you. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, you relished in this intimate moment you shared with George. Sitting dormantly with limited movement, the world went still for a moment.

The early morning turned into a bright afternoon. Scooped in his hold, you pressed compassionate kisses all along the edges of his face, his eyelashes fluttering subtly whenever you did so. With the grass matted around your bodies, George’s voice--like music--peppered sweet and quiet declarations of love into your ear.

As you were about to doze off with the feeling of glee surrounding your head, George leaned forward, effectively knocking off your stupor on his shoulder. Light fingers brushed the skin of a nearby clementine--the rest still dispersed in a small pile. Bringing it up to your half-lidded eyes, you twinkled at the sight.

“Clementine?”

The simple act of you two offering the other the sweet fruit seemed like it was you and George’s own unique way of saying ‘I love you’. Sparing not even a second, you brushed what seemed to be like your 1,000th peck of the day on his nose. A fond feeling bloomed in his chest and he was sure that if he wasn’t already sitting down, his knees would’ve given out then--no matter how many times you did it.

“Of course.”

The cotton white clouds aimlessly moved in the sky as the leaves rustled all the same. There laid two people enveloped in each other’s presence. Silently vowing to forever love each other til the end of time. Chestnut eyes focus intently on your (E/C) ones, an affectionate grin setting deep in you and George’s features.

A clementine is shared, just as how the both of you shared your love with one another. Both of your lips move to meet, the whole world once again stopping as you finally do.

-----------

Author’s Note: (*slaps fic* this bad boy can fit so many words in it) Fucky fucky fuck- wow was that absolutely a long ride. As I have mentioned before, I’m finally going to open my requests really soon (whopeee)! I’m sorry if I sound like a wanna-be poet, my vocabulary and grammar skills do be lackin’. I may have a few mistakes here and there and I also apologize for that.

Hnghh, but I hoped that y’all liked this fic! I love you all for takin’ the time to read it. 😩💕

[alolowrites]

Dance With Me

Summary: You share a magical dance with the handsome instructor—Shouto Todoroki.

Song: “Tiempo De Vals” by Chayanne

Author’s Note: Anyone who’s been to a quinceañera party or had a quinceañera party themselves knows this song. It’s a staple in every vals dance (Spanish for waltz). I love listening to this song, and lo and behold: I got an idea for this story that was itching to be written. 

Highly recommend listening to the song while reading the story! Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.4K+

Tip Jar

“Please wait here,” Sara, the petite receptionist, gestures toward the empty dance studio. You bow and step inside, glancing around the room. “The instructor is running late, but he’ll arrive soon.”

“Oh, no worries, but thank you!”

Sara closes the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You place your belongings beside the main entrance and change into your dancing shoes. The heels tap softly against the hardwood floor to shake away your nerves. It’s been a while since you’ve waltz dance, and you miss it a lot. Something about being swept off your feet to the rhythm of a beautiful song makes you feel at peace. With your life at a decent place, you decide to splurge a little on yourself by retaking waltz dance lessons.

You hear the door open.  

“Hello there,” the stranger’s deep voice bounces along the walls. You nearly sprain your ankle at the sight of him. He strides across the room, holding out a large hand for a shake. His grip is firm yet gentle. “My name is Shouto Todoroki, your dance instructor. I apologize for being late.”

“I-I didn’t even notice,” you stammer, trying to look anywhere but his gorgeous face. You don’t feel worthy enough to see it. His soft chuckle brings your attention to him, and you mentally let out a curse. All your concentration flies out the window when you gaze at his eyes. One is the color of an exquisite gray gemstone, while the other is turquoise like the famous Maldivian waters.

Those marvelous eyes take your breath away.

Shouto lets go to plug his phone into the studio’s speakers. You spin around, whispering an incoherent ‘thank you’ at the universe; it’s your lucky day, indeed. Another dose of giddiness flows from your head to your toes. One hand cools down your face as you get yourself together. You turn around all poised and collected, yet inside you’re a trembling mess. Fake it till you make as they say.

You politely smile as Shouto returns.

“Shall we begin?”

“S-sure!”

“Excellent.”

Shouto presses the small remote, bringing the speakers to life. The trumpets sound with a mighty roar. They sound like a grand royal entrance fanfare fit for a king. Shouto’s hands slide into position. His hold feels natural and secure, almost as though you are meant to be with him. You discreetly swallow a small gulp—he’s so close to you.

The excitement builds inside you as Shouto’s piercing eyes capture your soul. Both of you are ready for the performance of a century. You rest a gentle hand on his arm while he gives an encouraging squeeze in return. An amused smile appears on his face and asks, “Are you nervous?”

“Just a tad,” you meekly glance between his hand and face. Your fingers feel the lean muscle hiding underneath the navy-blue dress shirt. An inaudible choke stops at your throat. You are definitely going to screw up. “I thought we were going to start with the basics first. I’m a bit rusty with my waltz dancing skills.”

“You’ll be fine,” Shouto leans closer to reach your ear, catching you off guard. You become still as a statue. His minty breath blows along your heated skin that rivals the sun’s surface. The song gradually hums in the background. A shiver runs down your spine when he whispers, “Just follow my lead.”

And so you do.

Shouto begins with simple steps, swaying back and forth to the beat of the song. You try peeking down at your feet, but can’t. His eyes won’t let you; they hold your attention. You gladly oblige and get lost in his gaze that resembles a soothing ocean. Your entire body relaxes in seconds, opening the floodgates for your waltz movements to naturally shine through.

Now the real fun begins. Shouto picks up the pace, whisking you across the dance floor. He hugs you close so you don’t slip from his grasp. The fresh scent of his cologne—a light tone of mint mixed with vanilla—tickles your nose. You inhale it without hesitation. Shouto spins you around under his arm before resting his warm hand on your back again.

The song’s tempo plays faster. Shouto’s feet take deliberate steps, and you feel as though you’re bouncing on clouds with him. He makes a three-quarter turn, the circular motion fluid until the very end. One, two, three, one, two, three, and twirl. One, two, three, one, two, three, and another spin once again. Your feet magically feel light to the touch.

Dancing with Shouto is like flying in the air. His movements are elegant and strong, yet effortless at the same time. You never let go nor want the dance to end. If he could, Shouto would dance with you high above the clouds or down below the deep blue sea. As long as you are in his arms, he will dance with you forever.

A small grin slips on Shouto’s lips. He admires the beautiful spark glimmering in your eyes. The violins proudly sing their praises in the background. One, two, three, one, two, three, and you twirl once more. Shouto then dips you slowly, his arms holding you with ease as you go down. You don’t see a hint of a struggle on his face. He brings you back up and sways to the calm tempo until there’s a dramatic pause. The anticipation builds as you gaze into Shouto’s passionate eyes and then…

The song bursts with one last hurrah.

Shouto moves smoothly, yet quickly across the room. His speed is on par with the music’s energetic rhythm. You follow his lead, twirling nonstop like a pair of eagles gracefully spiraling downward from the sky. Oh, how you feel so wild and free.

The music fades away now that the dream is over. Shouto comes to a soft stop, and both your chests are heaving. Neither of you let go still. His warm embrace is quite welcoming, and you want to cherish it forever.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” Shouto murmurs, breaking the silence. He brings your hand to his lips to plant a ghostly kiss. His eyes are burning deep into your soul. “You make me feel alive again.”

“Y-Yeah, um, you’re welcome.”

Shouto lets go and stands back just when you hear the door creak open.

“Excuse me, miss?” Sara enters with a polite smile. Another man with purple hair stands behind her. “Please meet your dance instructor, Mr. Hitoshi Shinsou. We apologize for making you wait so long!”

“Huh? No, there must be some mistake,” you blink confusedly at them. “My dance instructor is Shouto Todoroki. He’s standing right here.”

Sara shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but you’re the only one here, miss.”

“What?” You whip around, nearly twisting your ankles. Shouto is nowhere to be found. Your eyes search every nook and corner of the room, but you refuse to believe he is gone. “N-no. He was here. I swear, I’m not lying!”

Shinsou arches an eyebrow. “Wait, did you say Shouto Todoroki was your dance instructor?”

“Yes! A tall man with red and white hair; gray and blue eyes?” Your hands gesture wildly in the air. “We shared a dance just moments ago!”

“That’s impossible,” Sara frowns, lowering her clipboard. She glances at Shinsou before turning to you. “Mr. Todoroki died almost seven months ago in an accident. I’m sorry.”

Dead?

You glance down at your hand; it still tingles from Shouto’s kiss. Memories of the dance flash through your head. You remember everything clearly, especially those captivating eyes of his. So how is it possible that he’s dead? Sara and Shinsou give you concerned looks—they’re telling the truth. Soon the fantasy in your mind shatters like glass.  

Sara steps forward. “Are you alright?”

“I…I don’t know…”

You start losing the feeling in your legs, and it’s not because you’re worn out. What’s real? What’s just imaginary? You don’t know; the line is blurred. Sara tries snapping you out of your inner turmoil. You don’t listen and glance at the large mirrors—a big mistake.

Shouto’s playful eyes stare back at you. An air of confidence swirls around him as he stands tall. You blink in disbelief. Shouto bows like the charming prince he is, thanking you one last time for the magical waltz dance. He then finally vanishes from your sight.

Except you don’t forget about him.

For he is the handsome ghost who will always dance with you for eternity.

As always, thanks for reading!

Spooky Season 2020 Masterlist

[tastingmellow]

Can I get fic with Thicc Thor & plus sized reader witch 4c hair where Jane wants Thor back so she attempts to degrade reader but Thor goes all Thunder Gawd, on her shocking the shit out of errybody? Can it have Loki and Hela in the background being proud as shit protecting reader?

You got it! Love Thunder Daddy! (Don’t judge me on the name, okay? 😭) I hope you like it, honey! ❤️

——————————

“I mean come on Thor, she’s literally a whale and not to mention her hair is barely manageable with all those naps and shit. You can’t possibly really be interested—“ Jane is cut off by a loud clap of thunder, the sky becoming increasingly darker as lightning lit up the sky. Thor’s fingers twitched as he immediately stopped stirring the pot of rice in front of him, slowly turning around.

You had been gone for about a week, on a business trip for your hair care and clothing line while Thor had stayed behind with the rest of the team and his family. Jane had shown nearly as soon as you left and had been pestering Thor all week. Making slick comments about you and how you treated Thor. Even went as far as to say you were neglectful because you left for a week without Thor.

Granted she never said them around Thor, mostly to herself or to her friends. Meanwhile when she was around Thor she tried way too hard to capture his attention. When Thor was in the kitchen he’d turn and see her perched on the island. If he had wanted to grab a book from the library she’d somehow be in before him. It annoyed him to no end but being the ever loving sweetheart he is, he let it go.

You were supposed to be coming home today and Thor decided to welcome you home with a simple baked chicken and rice dish. Most of the team had been wondering around the kitchen and living space, mainly to welcome you home when Jane wandered in, still trying to capture Thor’s attention. She’d touch his arm and he’d brush her off. She’d stand too close and he would take a wide step to the side to get away from her.

She was frustrated, pissed even. She didn’t think, she just talked and talked and talked until she let those comments slip from her mouth.

As the thunder became louder, shaking the compound Thor turned to her. There lightning bolts twitching at his fingers and his eyes. He wore a scowl on his face, an expression he rarely let through. Loki and Hela turned slowly to Thor, taking small steps to get just a tad closer just in case. Steve quietly crept towards his shield in the corner, Tony was at the ready to suit up, Bruce stood awkwardly, clutching his glasses tightly.

“Repeat that again.” Thor’s low, rumbling voice bubbles out of his throat and Jane took a step back. “Thor, it wasn’t—...I was just saying you could do better.” Bucky and Sam cringed at her wording while Thor tilted his head.

“I could do better...with whom? You?”

Jane remained silent as Thor took in a deep breath. The lightning bolts from his eyes went away but his fingers still crackled with electricity. “You have no place to tell me who I could do better with. I chose her, she is mine. I am hers. You will not speak of her of anything less than the wonderful specimen she is...”

Thor took a step closer and everyone else took a step closer to him. “She is everything you wish you could be plus so much more. She is my love and you are nothing but a grain of salt in my eye that just won’t leave. You fixed your lips to speak on my wife, I should bury you where you stand.” His voice was eerily calm, but the anger in his eyes was evident.

His chest heaved with rage. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating as Jane stared at him. “She’s just not—“

“You will not tell me what she isn’t when you are nothing!” Thor’s voice boomed throughout the compound, a loud clap of thunder following. A ding from the elevator caught everyone’s attention except Thor’s. He seethed as he stared down Jane, his irises turning white.

“What’s going on...” your voice rang out, breaking the silence in the room. Thor looked angry, Jane looked terrified and the team looked ready to fight.

‘What the fuck?’ You thought to yourself as you observed the room. Your heels quietly clacked against the time before you were stopped by Hela, her hand resting on your shoulder. You glanced at her then to Loki who shook his head slightly before your gaze fell to Thor.

“Thor...” you quietly mumbled out. He heard you, your voice ringing through all his white, hot rage. He calmed significantly, eyes still dark with anger but hands no longer surrounded with electricity and his eye color now visible once again.

“I put up with your shit all week, this is the last time I will ever do it again. Do not step foot in this place ever again unless you wish you have your head put on a pike as trophy. Do you understand me?” Thor spoke, voice firm. Jane nodded quickly, attempting to slide past him before he gripped her arm. Not enough to hurt, but enough to stop her completely.

“Apologize.” Jane nodded, her eyes meeting his. Before she could speak Thor pointed in your direction. “To her. My wife.”

Jane gulped and looked towards you. “I-I’m sorry. I said some horrible things about you and Thor’s relationship! It wasn’t my place, I said terrible things about you and I’m so sorry!” Thor glanced down to her then to you.

“And...” Thor coaxed and Jane fidgeted. “And I’m sorry for trying to take him away from you. It was honestly so terrible and stupid of me. I’m sorry...” Thor released her and she scurried away, into the elevator and out of the building.

Thor walked over to you, his hands coming up to your face while you stared at him, gaze soft. He gave you a small smile before kissing your forehead. “Welcome home, my love.”

You softly sighed, shaking your head as you hugged him close. “Well...remind me not to ever speak ill of your love, brother.” Loki spoke up and Thor sighed.

“Yes, I do not wish to endure the great Thor Odinson’s wrath. Looks quite unpleasant.” Hela agreed, a teasing but proud smile on her lips. A loud clang was heard from behind them as Steve dropped his shield and the rest of the crew relaxed.

“Jeez, I thought you were gonna end her right there, Thor.” Bucky spoke up.

“Oh, if he had I’d be crying proud tears. I would have finally rubbed off on my dear brother.” Loki spoke, patting Thor on the back while you laughed. “No, he’s too much a sweetheart to do that. Too merciful.”

“Too merciful indeed. But I’ve never seen my brother quite that livid, I’m quite pleased to know a bit of me is in him. He’s quite ruthless with those he loves dearly.” Hela spoke, admiration in her eyes as she gently patted Thor’s shoulder.

You nodded. “Seems so, thank you...for sticking up for me even when I wasn’t here.”

Thor held you close, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll defend you against these ignorant mortals til my last breath, my love. “

[jungle321jungle]

Ask No Questions (I’ll Tell No Lies): Part Three

An Agent and a Con Man.

With such conflicting backgrounds it almost seemed laughable for the two to be soulmates. Fate had chosen this, but Logan had chosen to arrest the man across from him no matter what.

Taglist: @hells-missing-a-goat @angels-and-dreams​ @ollyollyoxinfree​ @gattonero17​ @chumo-cookie​ @dreaming-always​ @anxiety-ismy-name​ @mrbubbajones​ @janustheliar​ @simplyapannightmare  @why-do-you-care

Ao3 - Masterlist

~~~~

Part Three

“Daniel! You look positively dashing.”

Janus forced a smile on his face as he made his way over to Remy. The two exchanged the standard kiss on each cheek before he spoke, “Evening Remy. You’re looking well as always.”

“Well?” Remy asked, adjusting the sunglasses he had no use for in this event hall, “I was hoping for a better compliment than that.”

Janus resisted the urge to gag and he instead gave Remy’s companions a nod, before he looked back to the man with a suggestive smile on his face, “Well you have company here, I don't think they’d like to hear what it is I am really thinking.”

~~~~

“I assume your true thoughts were more... colorful?” Logan interrupted.

Janus gave a smile in return as he stirred more sugar than necessary into his coffee, “I know multiple languages, Agent. There were rainbows of all spectrums in my mind.”

~~~~

Remy gave a laugh and Janus barely had time to mentally prepare himself before Remy had thrown an arm around his waist- and it was dangerously low. “Well feel free to whisper then.”

Janus gave a smile as he leaned in and whispered, “Any finger below the belt will be broken.”

Remy didn’t even have the audacity to acknowledge the words as a threat as he instead pulled Janus closer to him, “I like how you think babe.”

“Daniel Perez,” Janus stated, introducing himself to Remy’s friends given it seemed the man wasn’t going to do it himself. 

“He helped organize things here tonight,” Remy supplied. “He’s gonna help me get some nice stuff.”

“I didn’t organize anything,” Janus corrected with a modest smile. “I just convinced my father that there was a good investment in sponsoring the auction. And then in return he sent me to oversee his investment tonight, but I’m not worried so I think I’ll mainly oversee the alcohol.” The words were simple ones, but they were enough to cause the small group to chuckle, and for him to get an out. He turned to Remy with a tad bit of mischief in his eyes, “Would you like me to get you a drink? Champagne perhaps?”

Remy didn’t give him a reaction at all as he said that would be fine and let go. While Janus was thankful to move away he couldn’t help but be a tad frustrated. What would it take for Remy to do something other than give a smile that made him want to punch it off? He forced himself to take a calming breath as he headed to the open bar pulling out his phone as he did. He was greeted with a text from Remus. 

I like him

Janus didn’t bother with a reply.

“Things just seem to be going amazing don't you think?”

Janus barely looked up as empty glasses were set before him, “How are we looking?”

“The Target just walked in,” Virgil replied as he poured. “And the artist is stationed.”

“Good. Then do me a favor and make sure he follows the plan?”

“I don’t leash him.”

Janus picked up the two glasses of champagne and turned to walk back to Remy, “Maybe you should.”

~~~~

“What? You’re not going to ask what my marvelous plan was?”

Logan blinked at Janus boredly in return, “Was I supposed to? Wasn’t the whole point of all this that you were going to tell me?”

“Well yes, but I’m telling you what I heard, saw, and thought. Clearly I did not see my own plan go down. I had an alibi all night.”

“Fine. Then do tell me Blank, what was this plan of yours?”

Janus opened his mouth to respond before he closed it, a smile playing on his lips. “Well, why don’t you tell me? ...How would you do it?”

“I’m not a criminal, I would never do such a thing.”

“Humor me,” Janus requested leaning forward in his chair. “I did say I am interested in how you think after all.”

Logan paused taking in the face across from him before he set the notepad he had been writing in down with a sigh. “Do I get any more details?”

“If you need them.”

“A rich club owner trying to buy a present for the victim’s birthday... and from what I understand your forger, Roman, and your thief, Virgil, were there. Roman to do what I am still not sure, and Virgil to blend in if he was posing as staff. And I assume Remus, your hacker, was in a safe location monitoring everything. And this was all at an auction for the elite. That is the basic information correct? Oh and of course there’s the painting that was stolen from the victim’s home.”

“I believe that’s all.”

“Well I supposed the first thing you would need to do is convince the victim, Thomas Sanders that he wants the forgery.”

“Alright, how?”

“How?” Logan repeated in agreement. He paused in thought his mind lacing and weaving together Janus’ words until he came to an answer. “You’d make sure he overhears.”

~~~~

Janus was thankful to escape Remy for the little time he could. He crossed the room of guests still milling about waiting for the event to start keeping a pleasant smile on his face as he did. There was an art to walking through a party. Janus had learned that he needed to smile, make eye contact, and flow as the people did- it didn’t matter that the crowd was taking him in the wrong direction- in a space like this he’d reach his destination through patience. He had learned that as he went he needed to have a small presence by way of giving compliments here, pausing to ask someone about their life there. But he always knew where to draw the line. He needed to speak just enough for them to wonder where they had met before- but not so much that they would need to ask him, and certainly not so much that they would dare remember him. 

As he neared the Target coming towards him, he found himself morphing into a group casually and directly the conversation the way he wanted. 

“What am I interested in?” he repeated louder than necessary as the Target came closer. “The Crown Jewels, by C. I can't believe that such a painting lost to time has resurfaced.”

“I didn’t even know it was up for bid,” One of the women commented. “I can’t believe it's been found.”

“I love C’s works,” someone else put in. “The whole man is an enigma. He’s only known by a letter, and isn't it true that even a depiction of his face has been lost to history? That he destroyed his only self portrait?”

“Any work of his would be a reflection of his soul wouldn’t it?” Janus asked stepping back slightly- only to bump into a man. As wine spilled down his sleeve he hurriedly turned and apologized to the man. 

The Target was apologizing profusely himself. “I am so sorry! I will pay for your dry cleaning Mr.... um?”

“Perez,” Janus supplied. “Daniel Perez.”

~~~~

“Let me stop you there.”

“What?” Logan asked, slightly annoyed. “Is that not how it went? Planting the idea of the painting in his mind? And I assume you most certainly had your hacker place images of The Crown Jewels all over his web searches.”

“While I won’t deny that, but rather I’d like to ask you something... What was it I told you when we first started this conversation?”

“Your real name.”

“Before that.”

Logan paused his eyebrows knit as he glanced over his notes, he didn’t have anything written prior to the man’s true name. 

“It was back before we left my place,” Janus started. “I told you that I had...”

“You told me that you...” Logan paused racking his brain as he tried to run through their long conversation through his mind before letting out a curse. “You met the victim last night.” 

“Ding ding! So, how do you think it went down if I didn’t interact with him on the night of the auction?”

Logan drummed his fingers on the table slightly as he thought, “Well... just because you usually take the lead as the grifter... doesn’t mean that you have to.”

“Go on.”

~~~~

Roman was itching for his chance to do something. Until now he had been flowing among the guests with ease, Janus’ lessons- lectures echoing in his skull. It was truly annoying, it had been years since he and Janus met, and yet he still couldn't get that nagging voice giving orders out of his skull. Roman gave a laugh as the rest of the group he was with did before he took a breath pushing memories of Janus away as he moved on to the next group. But unfortunately they resurfaced. “There was an art to walking through a party,” Janus would say. And quite frankly with that Roman couldn’t disagree. The flow of people were like the strokes of a brush. Each one different yet distinct and completely and utterly connected despite itself. And each one would interact with another and many different ways. So Roman followed the strokes of the painting he could not fully yet see. He could visualize it though, everything he wished to go right tonight and in the future, but Remy had already been one unexpected blemish and he hoped there wouldn’t be more. So to do his part, Roman smiled, laughed, and talked his way in and out of groups of people- out of swirls of paint until he found the portion of the canvas which would become his masterpiece. 

And all it took was one intentional step back. 

The Target was apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry. I will pay for your dry cleaning Mr. um?”

“It’s not important,” Roman told him with an easy going smile. “I’m no one of your status Mr. Sanders, and this blazer is almost out of season anyway.”

“Everyone is important in their own way,” the man disagreed. “But I couldn’t help but overhear. Is it true The Crown Jewels is up for auction tonight?”

“It is,” Roman nodded before he gave a slight laugh, “but now that I know you’re interested I’m not sure I have enough to buy it myself.” As the group laughed with him Roman felt his phone buzz in his pocket, Remus was right on time. He quickly apologized to the group he was with and the Target as he put his phone to his ear and fought the flow to head towards the back room. 

~~~~

“Better?” Logan asked. 

“Much. But I’m not letting you off that easy. How do you think we got the painting accepted? Or how we made sure Thomas didn’t buy it?”

“I’m still working on the first question,” Logan admitted. “But if you had Virgil handing out drinks he could easily slip something in the victim’s which would upset his stomach and cause him to leave.”

“Close, but I’ll give you one for free. Virgil also helped with the distribution of the small appetizers which went around and conveniently found their way to the majority of the people interested in the painting.”

“The ones you hadn’t used as plants.”

“Precisely.”

“So with them and Thomas Sanders gone, Remy was free to buy the painting. And as for getting the painting appraised and inspected... You could have just paid someone off, but that’s not your style.”

“You know me too well, Agent.”

Logan paused scenarios running through his mind as his fingers tapped on the table. There were options- many of them. Time seemed to pass incredibly slowly as he did. He could feel the sun beating down his arm given it had changed positions but he didn’t think to adjust how he sat. He needed to come up with an answer before Janus lost interest. But how was he supposed to come to a single conclusion with so little infor- “You told me your job was an appraiser at first didn’t you?”

Janus gave a satisfied yet surprised smile, “If you have an idea, then tell it.”

~~~~

It had been just over two weeks since Janus had started his job as the newest personal assistant to a man who seemed to have a revolving door of them. Two weeks were barely anything in the larger scheme of things, but they had felt like eternity. He had been sent off on so many pointless errands and he had been running all around the city so often that he seldom had time for what he had actually gotten the job to do. Not to mention the man called his boss was one of the largest assholes he had met (first Remy and now this man? Janus seemed to have terrible luck). His boss barely acknowledged his presence when he was around and when he did, it seemed Carlos was the hardest name in the world to remember. 

“His assistants leave so often he doesn’t know any of their names,” a woman had told him pityingly once. 

That Janus understood. It was part of the reason he had gotten the job. What he didn’t understand was why nine times out of ten he was called by a female name. 

“Marta you're three minutes late.”

Janus attempted to keep his mask on, “I’m sorry sir. There was traffic.”

“Account for it next time.”

“Yes sir.”

“What’s next on my schedule?”

“Well given you canceled your meetings involving any gallery heads today, what's next is a meeting with a man who found an old painting in his grandfather’s home and would like it appraised.”

“Send to a grunt worker to do. Or hell, do it yourself for all I care.”

“I have not been trained in this sir. Also given if the painting is real it would be best to have your name on it.”

For the first time the man across the desk looked up from his computer to stare at the face Janus had put on. “What is it?”

“The Crown Jewels sir.”

The man leaned back in surprise and Janus could see the scheme forming in the man’s mind. His suspicions were only confirmed as the man said, “Does he know its worth?”

“I doubt it.”

“Keep it that way. And make sure we’re the only ones who know about it.”

“Yes sir.” 

Greed would always be a fun thing to twist. 

~~~~

“And then you’d have Roman come with the painting and the man wouldn’t really be too interested in if the painting was real or not. He’d be more interested in the amount of money he could make and the notoriety he could gain.”

“All true, but you’re missing something.”

“Which is?”

“Someone would notice if Roman carried that large painting in its frame. He had to roll it up to bring it. So if it is simply a painting... then how do we get a bug in Thomas’ villa?”

“The appraiser of art probably would know someone in framing...”

“I’d assume.”

“So you’d put someone there as well, to plant the bug in the frame.”

~~~~

“This one isn’t right either.”

“What about this one sir?”

“Hm? Oh Carmen you’re a genius! This one it is. I'm headed to my next meeting, you stay and coordinate.”

Remus bit the inside his lip as he tried not to laugh as Janus gave his boss a nod. Even from his spot across the room he could see Janus’ annoyance slipping through. It was always funny to him. Seeing the true Janus beneath the layers of makeup, wigs, and contacts. As much as he tried, he was always the same person- and yet Janus seemed to be the only one who couldn’t see that. 

Remus sat the counter listening casually to their conversation as he awaited customers. Not like there would be many of them. There hadn’t been someone in at all yesterday, and yet his boss didn’t seem to have noticed. Remus of course had mainly because it just shined light on the fact that he was bored out of his mind. There were so many things he could be doing. He could be playing games, hacking people for the hell of it, watching something, or doing all of the above at once. And yet he was restricted to an old framing shop and his phone. His phone of course was the saving grace, he had recently bought the newest model when he and Roman had returned to visit their parents a few months prior, and since it had rarely left his hands for more than a moment. That had been an interesting trip... he had hung out at the marina, drank, partied, and hacked his father’s company for sport. But then he again aside from boring moments like now that’s all he ever did. 

“I’m going to have you lock up today, alright? I have a few things to do.”

Remus gave the man his heartfelt promise that all would be in good hands. So when closing time came, and he had locked up Remus had nearly run for his backpack and pulled his laptop from it. He couldn’t stop himself from silently running his fingers over the keys in anticipation as he turned it on and signed in. When he had he got to work. First pulling up his secure servers before he pulled the bug from his bag and began to sync it. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he worked the colors he had programmed lighting up after each press of a key. This was what he loved doing, sure the rest of it was fun. But using the skills he had gained out of spite was the greatest thing. If only it had lasted longer. But when he was done he shut his laptop and put it back and took the bug with him as he went to the painting. It was already in the process of being framed, but as Janus had anticipated Remus’ boss wouldn’t be done until the following day due wanting to be extra careful and delicate given the nature of the “rare” and “one of a kind” painting. He ran his fingers gently across the wood and metal until he found the spot he had recognized and he pushed it forward before pressing it down. The small compartment opened inward and he dropped the small bug into it before he pulled the cover back into its slot. 

~~~~

“While I am convinced that the bug was hidden in the frame,” Logan said, interrupting himself. “I don’t understand why the need to steal the entire painting last night.”

Logan didn’t miss Janus’ smile dip slightly before it was replaced. “We haven’t reached that part of the story just yet. But-” Janus stopped suddenly as the ringing of a phone could be heard. “Sorry.” He pulled it from his pocket and answered it in on motion. “Yes? ...What am I doing? I’m working. There was an-” his eyes looked over Logan’s form before he spoke again. “An unforeseen circumstance, but I am dealing with the predicament. What are you doing?”

As the conversation continued Logan couldn't help but analyze the man across from him as he did. Janus’ body language screamed he was relaxed, and he was incapable of lying in Logan’s presence, and yet somehow everything he was doing seemed to be for show. He wasn’t actively lying, but without hearing the other side of the conversation there was no way Logan could know the scale of this lie of omission.

“Well I do trust you can handle that yourself,” Janus was saying. “Or are you suddenly incapable? ...Virgil, despise is a strong word... You wound me. I nearly- he hung up on me.”

“Working?” Logan repeated. 

“Well you seem firm in not wishing to romance me so yes, I’m working. Going above and beyond my usual methods, but given you have no warrant for my arrest and yet you’re here anyway, you’re doing the same. Anyway what was I saying?”

“Stealing the painting.”

“Right, right. But before I tell you about that, don't you want to hear more about how I dealt with Remy?”

“Quite frankly it doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.”

~~~~

“So everything is set for tomorrow then?”

Janus raised an eyebrow, “How many times do you plan on asking me that? This is my line of work you know.”

“Not really sure you should be using that as the basis.”

“Says the man who drugged me.”

“Oi, who’s fault is it really that you got drugged?”

Janus could only stare at the man seated across from him in disbelief, “Yours!”

“Run me through it again,” Remy ordered as he made himself comfortable with both legs thrown over the side of Janus’ arm chair.  

Janus rolled his eyes, but ultimately he complied. “It's simple, you and I keep Thomas with the guests and out of his office, while my guy runs in, grabs the bug and leaves. And he’ll be under the cover of my hacker.”  

“Why not leave the thing? You said it was sending you the audio already. Why retrieve it?”

“Because, once the blackmailing begins those people are going to go knocking down Thomas’ door and he’ll do the math that all this started after he got the painting. He can then tear it apart, but if there’s nothing to find and no way to trace us. The end.”

Remy didn't seem completely satisfied but given he was too busy typing away at his phone to speak, Janus took it as an opportunity. “Why do you even want to participate in this? Did Thomas do something to you?”

“What does it matter to you?” 

“It doesn't.”

“Then keep it that way.”

“Did you decide what you want yet?” Janus asked to redirect the conversation. “I’m leaving soon and I rather finish everything before I leave.”

Remy paused before he turned in his seat to sit properly. He flicked his sunglasses up and his unsettling gaze fixed itself on Janus, “What if I told you want to stay?”

“That’s not of equal value,” Janus replied automatically. “You’re already getting a cut of the future profits.”

“But think of all the fun we could have, babe!”

“No.”

Remy gave a frown as he considered Janus before he gave a shrug, “Then I’ll have to keep thinking.”

“Please tell me things are set. Somehow each time I spend time with Remy my skin crawls more instead of less.”

“Everything is set,” Virgil confirmed from the other side of the line. “Roman got us each a ticket to different places and then from there we’re on our own and as agreed we will meet up in a month. Even different forms of transport.”

“Good.”

“But how do you plan on getting out without Remy knowing? The rest of us should manage but it's clear he’s uh... attached to you.”

Janus gave a sigh, “I plan to give him a little diversion of sorts. The day after next is when we leave. You all don't need to worry about me I’ll-”

“I’ve never worried about you once in my life.”

“Please remind me why I am friends with you?”

Virgil ignored him, “So how are you getting out? Remy’s clearly got connections based off of what Remus reported. Dangerous connections.”

“Well that sounded a tad like concern didn't it?”

“Janus.”

“Fine. I’ve been acting more distant to Remy later and at the party I’ll drop a rumor to his friends. I’m almost done spinning the silk around him, and then once I break it hopefully he should get stuck long enough that I have enough time to leave. It should take him about 18 hours after the party starts to get free and come after me, but my flight is in 19, and I plan to be at the airport past security long before that.”

“Don't fuck up then. I’ll talk to you after.”

Thomas’ villa was beautiful. That Janus already knew from all the pictures and planning done, but it was entirely different seeing it. 

“Quite the place right?” Remy asked pulling Janus close. 

His two friends eagerly nodded in agreement, and with that the four of them headed to the door. When they approached the door was already opening to allow them entry. And when they had it was clear the party was in full swing inside. People looked up as they entered, most likely wondering why Remy had bothered showing up this late when the party had started closer to eight, but then again most of them probably knew that Remy had a flair for the dramatic. Perhaps that was why no one commented on how late they were. Rather they hurriedly shoved drinks into their hands and absorbed them into the conversation. 

“Remy!”

Janus turned with Remy and turned to look at Thomas Sanders. It was kind of strange, meeting the man he had come to the city for months after he had planned it. He had access to every detail Remus could dig up about the man’s life, and he had been listening in on Thomas’ conversations for weeks, and yet here and now was the first time they had ever locked eyes.

“Thomas!” Remy greeted with a slight slur as he greeted the other man. “How are ya?”

“I’ve been good. But how have you been? I have been trying to contact you for weeks to thank you properly for the painting!”

Remy gave him a dismissive wave, “See I ignored those because I didn’t want you trying to give it back to me. This is to make up for all the birthdays I missed in the past and those I’ll miss in the future.”

Thomas gave a laugh in response, “Of course. And oh, hello to your friends.”

“You already know those two, but this is Daniel Perez,” Remy introduced. 

Janus gave the man a smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. But um, Remy?” Thomas asked. “Can I pull you aside to talk for a minute?” Thomas asked. 

“Sure thing babe!”

Janus watched as they walked off to the side, and as he went back to the conversation happening in front of him he kept glancing over to the two. As time passed the friends finally noticed.

“Daniel?”

Janus turned from where he had been watching to face Remy’s two friends. “Hm?”

“I said you should join us next week at the network's party,” Sofia told him. Janus had been listening to their conversation of course, but Sofia and Manuel were co hosts for entertainment news, and if he wanted them to take up his story he’d need to up the drama.

“Oh,” he nodded slowly before his gaze flickered back to Remy. “I’m... not sure if I can make it.”

Manuel took the bait, “Is something going on between you two?”

Janus shook his head quickly, his eyes darting over the listening ears he amassed from neighboring people, “It's fine really. I shouldn’t...”

“You can tell us,” Sofia insisted.

Janus gave a sigh before he leaned in slightly, “I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. The hot and cold, I mean.”

“I know he’s a flirt but he's a good person.”

Her partner gave a nod, “He’s just trying to have fun before he settles down with his soulmate. Didn’t you say you were doing the same?”

“Well yes but...”

“But?”

Janus paused looking around before he leaned in again, “I found my soulmate.”

“Oh who?”

The woman beside him slapped him on the arm, “Idiot, he means Remy!” she hissed.

“Oh... oh... I understand. Wait, you said hot and cold?”

Janus gave a nod and let his gaze fall to the floor, “He... he dismissed me... I’ve been staying here trying to hope something will change but it never goes further than anything you guys see. He puts an arm around me and shows me off but he... he dismissed me.” Janus gave a slight sniffle and he forced himself to look up the ceiling blink repeatedly as if trying to hold in tears. 

“Oh my God,” Sofia gasped. “He did? I am going to-”

“Don’t!” Janus told her quickly. “Please. I just want to enjoy tonight and then I-I’m actually leaving to go on a trip tomorrow. I just... I just need to-”

“Somewhere to think?” Manuel guessed.

“Yeah... but please don't tell him I told you. I don't want more drama. He’ll try to stop me from leaving and I just need to be alone. I’m only here tonight because I promised him weeks ago that I’d come.”

“You poor thing,” Sofia frowned, gently taking his face in her hands and wiping away the beginning of tears. “We’ll keep your secret. And give him a stern talking to once you’re gone okay?”

Janus gave her a thankful smile. “Okay.”

~~~~

“How long did they manage to keep the secret?” Logan questioned.

“Do you not watch the news?” Janus asked with a smile.

“I was more concerned about coming to arrest you.”

Janus gave a laugh in reply and Logan silently hated how much he tuned in to the pleasant sound. “They didn’t make it twelve hours, but Daniel’s name was kept out of it. And Remy is currently stormed by paparazzi, but he’ll make it out sooner than later.”

“I see. And you claimed you’re leaving today?”

“Is that a problem?”

“It might be... but what happened for the rest of the night?”

“I did my part, kept my alibi. Remy was talking to Thomas most of the night, so I left it to him to ensure Thomas was distracted and Virgil wasn’t caught. The end.”

“That’s it? Logan asked in disbelief. “There must be more.”

“Oh? Do you like my story that much, Agent?”

Logan ignored him. “What about the painting? Why steal it? What is to be gained? I highly doubt that you were suddenly feeling bad about lying about rediscorved art.”

“Of course not. No that was... a hiccup of sorts... as if the murder wasn’t already.”

“What do you mean?”

Janus gave a small sigh and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as if upset at the thought of it, but he told the story nonetheless. 

~~~~

The moment Remus had altered the security footage he was moving. He left the staff quarters and headed to the base of the villa. He checked his surroundings to ensure he was alone twice, but then he could hear Remus’ voice in his ear. 

“No one is watching you but me Virgie.”

“Something feels off,” Virgil whispered back.

“You’re always paranoid. I wouldn’t let you get caught. No! What? He deserves a red card for that, not a yellow!”

“Are- are you watching the game without me?”

“Hurry back and I won't have to. Oh do you want color commentary in the meantime?”

“No.”

The word was ignored as Remus began to describe the game going on, and Virgil did his best to ignore it as he began his ascent up the trellis. He bit his tongue as he climbed silently worried about whether it would hold his weight (despite the fact he had tested it multiple times previously) but even so he climbed it. The trellis came to a stop beneath the balcony so now came the next issue. He took a deep breath and pulled the metal spikes from his belt and stabbed one in above him before he did the same with the next. And then he was hanging. It was slower moving than he’d like to admit, but he had done this in harder locations higher from the ground. He reached the end of the underside of the balcony and reached up to begin the turn from underneath to the side. He just needed to keep his foc- 

“Goal! Yes!”

Virgil jerked in surprise and quickly steadied himself as his heart rate spiked. “Remus?”

“That was such a good- hm?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You could at least say please, manners are everything Virgie.”

Virgil held in a retort as he climbed further and reached up for the railing. It wasn’t until he had both feet firmly placed on the other side of it did he calm even slightly. The halls were empty and Remus was monitoring, but that didn’t mean that Virgil was planning to move slowly. He hurried down the hall keeping his steps as quiet as possible and headed toward the office. He glanced back and forth out of habit before pulling out his lockpicks. The long pieces of metal were as familiar to him as his own fingers, and perhaps that's why in a few expert clicks, the door was open and he was on the other side of it. The room was dark and quiet, but that was to be accepted given the host was elsewhere in his home. Virgil took a step in turning on his headlamp as he did. When he did, the painting was easy to spot. It hung on the wall behind the small bar looking out to the rest of the room. He went to it quickly and ran his fingers over it looking for the compartment Remus had engineered, but he couldn’t find it.

“Remus, where is it? The opening?”

“Bottom left.”

Virgil frowned and put pressure on the spot once more only succeeding in deepening his frown. “It's not here.”

“Yes it is.”

“No its-”

“Just shove it forward then- Someone’s walking your way. Get it and get out.”

“I would if I could.” 

What must’ve been a Greek swear echoed in the earpiece, “It's the Target, I don't know if he’s headed for the office or somewhere else, but he’s about to turn to the hall. Get out now.”

Virgil could hear the footsteps now. He bit his tongue in thought as panic rose in his chest. He hurriedly turned off the headlamp as they grew closer each one echoing on the floor as it came closer. But there was nowhere to hide in this room- not if he didn’t know what the man was coming in here to do. Damnit, what was Janus even doing? The idiot only had one job for the evening and it seemed he couldn’t do that. Would Virgil really have to teach him everything? 

Virgil ran eyes over the room in the dark before a wardrobe stuck out to him and with no other choice he bit back a curse as he moved to the door- locked it- and ran for the wardrobe. He had just closed the door behind him when the office door opened. From his spot holding his breath amongst the rich man’s clothes (hell why did this man even have a wardrobe in his office? Did rich people change clothes in the middle of meetings?) Virgil could only see the light of the room, but he could hear. The Target had crossed the room and was rummaging through his desk. Time seemed to slow as Virgil’s body cramped at the uncomfortable position, he couldn't risk moving. He was already barely fitting in the space as it was, and movement could cause the door to open and he couldn’t have that even if the cramping on his leg could be due to his former injury. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the feeling. This was no different than any other challenge. Challenges were the breath of life. They were what inspired Virgil to move forward despite everything, because nothing came easy. His mom had taught him that, and even if she hadn’t he had realized it soon enough. Because what came easy wasn’t always deserved. 

The closing of the office door and the click of the lock were like blessings. Virgil climbed out giving a sigh of relief as he did. He flexed his leg a few times before he closed the wardrobe and moved to stand in front of the painting once more. But he still had no clue how to access the planted bug. 

It was another swear in his ears which distracted Virgil from his analysis of the frame. “I need you to stop talking about the game.”

“I...I think he’s dead.”

Virgil froze, “What?”

“I-I don't... I looked back to the game and when I looked back there’s a ton of blood on the floor!”

“What where?” 

“At the end of the hall!”

“I’ve had enough,” Virgil decided, removing the large painting from the wall. “Drive the van as close as you can get.”

~~~~

“He was spooked by the victim’s death and took the whole painting then?”

“Yes,” Janus nodded tiredly. “Virgil has been doing this longer than me, but he isn't as skilled in keeping his emotions in check.”

“And the reason there is no footage of the murder is because Remus had already been looping that area because Virgil was due to make his escape that way.”

“Correct.”

Logan paused in thought as he squinted at Janus as the words settled in his mind. And just like that all at once, the riddle had an answer, “That would mean the killer had to know that the footage was being manipulated.”

“They would.”

“And the only person who knew what was happening that night, who was there, and who wasn’t you or Virgil was... Remy.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” Janus nodded. 

“But why would he-”

“I’m sure you can figure that out yourself, Agent. My story was about what I am doing in this city. Not about the murder.”

“They’re connected,” Logan argued. “This means Remy has been murdering people for weeks! And-”

“Perhaps, but they also are only strung together by the word of a chronic liar and an Agent out of line.”

Logan faltered as he looked into Janus’ eyes. The man had let his confident mask shatter to reveal what was true because at this point it didn’t matter. Logan already knew the truth, he had known it since the conversation had started or perhaps even before then, in this situation, he was powerless. 

“I’ll catch him,” Logan said anyway. “Remy will be charged.”

“I believe that you’ll try. But now, Agent... I think I should be going.”

No. “You can’t-”

“Why not?” he asked standing. “This is a conversation, not an interrogation after all. One happening off the record. Even if you were to arrest me one day in the future, this would all be more than circumstantial. So I need to leave the country before Remy catches up with me.”

No no no no.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to find Blank, get his answers and arrest the man no matter what. It didn't matter that Blank or Janus was his soulmate. It didn’t matter that he didn’t even have permission. All that mattered was that he couldn’t let Janus walk away. He had been doing this for too long. For so long he had been chasing the wolf in sheep’s clothing and his merry band, he had been running through countries and letting time pass. It had been over two years followed by six months of riding a desk hoping and praying for this moment. He had spent six months pretending he was satisfied as long as he had Patton but this moment here was what he had been yearning for so it couldn’t just- just end. 

Emotions had never been Logan’s strong suit. Everyone who knew him knew that. But never more than now did Logan wish he could explain the passion- the anger- the fear- the joy- the sadness and more that filled him to the brim. 

“Please remember that this case isn’t everything. I know you’ve devoted yourself to it kiddo- and you know I love how into your work you get but... but you’re more than the case.”

Patton had said and meant those words, but here and now Logan wasn’t sure if they were true. Because even if he could arrest Janus here and now what would come from it? He’d arrest the man, and feel better for what? A day? A week? A month? But it wouldn't change that he would still be chained down by his desk by his superiors. It hurt. More than emotionally it hurt physically. There was a pain in his chest and it hurt. It hurt more than he wanted to admit- even if it was just admitting it to his soul. It was hard to admit that he needed more than Patton- when he knew that Patton would give him everything if he dared say the word. He needed his job- what he truly loved more than any person. And the only way he could keep any grasp on his former position and the former case... was to let Janus go.

“I will arrest you,” Logan promised finally.

Janus gave him a smirk and a slight nod of the head, “Let’s see if you keep that promise Logan... And when we meet again, do me a favor and try to be more romantic. If you do... perhaps I’ll have another story for you.”

~~~~~

“Lo!”

Logan lifted his head to see his lover’s face. 

“What happened? Are you okay? Did you-”

Patton’s words were cut off as Logan moved forward to embrace his fiancé tightly. 

“Lo?” Patton asked softly as he hugged him back.

“I’m sorry,” Logan told him as he buried his face in Patton’s shoulder. “I should’ve been better to you.”

“Hush,” Patton chided. “What could be better than hugging you? Well I guess I prefer it when you’re smiling and hugging me. But this can lead to smiling Logan so it's okay.”

Logan couldn't stop the small chuckle which left his mouth.

“Oh I hear him already.”

Logan shook his head as he pulled back enough to wipe at his eyes, “I love you, Patton.”

Patton gave him a bright smile back, “I love you too. Now I’m going to start dinner and you can tell me about your day and if you met Blank some other time if you don't want to talk now, okay?”

“I met him,” Logan confirmed. “And... well, I got more than I bargained for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, have you ever considered the thought of having two soulmates?”

Patton’s mouth dropped open in surprise, “No way!”

“Yeah... he is.”

“Wow... well I know I just said I’d wait, but can I go back on it?”

Logan gave a laugh as he pulled Patton close to him again, “Yeah... you can.”

~~~~

This line of work was never something he had seen himself in. He had grown up thinking his only choice in life was to become a businessman and be better than those he was exposed to. And then he had witnessed a robbery, and he fell head first to a world he hadn’t known. And despite everything he had fallen in love with it. The art slipping his way into any group was something he had learned, and it was the art of the lie that he had perfected which allowed him to be such a notorious conman. And nothing could be better than that. Cons allowed him to meet amazing people, travel, and do something only he could. Others could steal, others could paint, others could hack, but only he could weave one another together to reach the goal. Only he was the one who could put things together- or he was supposed to be. But Logan was an anomaly, and even if Janus had the ability to lie to him he was sure the man would have figured him out on his own. “A long while,” that’s how long Logan claimed to have been tracking him. He couldn't help but wonder how long that had been. How long had it been that he had left behind enough clues to let his soulmate into his mind? He'd have to do better if he didn’t want to come this close to being caught again. But at the same time... the thought of Logan catching him wasn’t a bad one. Janus gave himself a quick and mental shake, no. He had other people to think about, and- and if Logan did catch up with him he was sure as hell going to make the other man earn it.

A soft sigh left his lips as he tried not to think about how uncomfortable the coach seats were as the plane moved closer and closer to the tarmac. It had been a longer flight than he had anticipated given the weather not allowing them to land, but now he was more than grateful for a chance to stretch his legs. Then it was off for a month of relaxation and planning before doing it all over again. As the plane landed and began to taxi he reached for his phone and pulled it out to turn it on and was greeted by a barrage of texts. 

He didn't recognize the number having wiped off all personal data before boarding the plane, but reading through them it was clear enough who they were from. 

What the hell Daniel!? WE HAD A DEAL

Bitch where the fuck r u  

I will fkin find you!

What do uthink ur smart or someth? 

I have ppl everywhre. They told me about u!

ANd when i tell them that u fkin destroyed me?

i’ll kill u

They went on like that for a while but Janus paid them no mind, and he did his best not to smile as he picked up his napkin and rubbed it over the phone. When it was his turn he climbed out and took down his carry on and moved to leave. He gave his thanks to the flight attendants as he did, ensuring he complimented a woman’s earrings as he did so he could drop the napkin- and phone in her trash without her noticing. 

“One month to relax,” he breathed out as he left the plane. One month of no work... he wasn’t entirely sure he would survive that long without doing what he loved. But, perhaps it would make quite the prologue. 

~~~~

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Sequel

The end! But as you see above I'm planning for sequel! So I hope you're curious about learning more about the history of Janus and crew and about Remy. So yeah, until then!

[twodaysintojune]

Arranging Weddings

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi / The Grandmaster of Diabolic Cultivation

WangXian, background XiCheng, warnings - None 

Find me at AO3

It had not even been a month since the passing of Jin GuangYao and Lan XiChen was not feeling better at all. If things kept on going that way he might head into seclusion soon rather than half ass all of his work like he was doing right now. He was never feeling like doing anything and right now he was feeling it even less since he had to stand his uncle's outrage for the eleventh time at nine in the morning.

"... Anything could happen to WangJi at any moment and we don't even know where they are right now! The inconceivable, utter disrespect to the most basic premises of morality! He did not only stick his cut-sleeveness on my WangJi but he also… he also forced him to elope! Just like that! Can you believe it XiChen!? The shame he has forced on our Sect by dropping off the last sense of decency by not getting married!???"

Lan XiChen wondered for a moment if it was wise to remind his own uncle of rule number seventy five on the wall of rules: "Causing Noise is Prohibited" to satisfy his own pettiness or if his uncle was in need of another cup of tea before any kind of smart backlash when both men heard a coughing coming up from the exterior of the room.

Lan XiChen beamed as much as his proper upbringing could allow. Standing still and quite elegantly poised, like the Sect Leader he was, was Jiang WanYin.

"Sect Leader Jiang! What a pleasant surprise! We didn't expect you until…" Lan XiChen turned to look at the hour and realized his own mistake of letting his uncle rant for literal hours now "oh, Oh. Please forgive me, Sect Leader Jiang. I have failed to properly receive you at the appointed hour."

"Please, no need to apologize, Sect Leader Lan, Master Lan Qiren." Jiang WanYin bowed to both men as appropriate to the occasion "I would have waited without a problem for you but I must admit your conversation got me quite intrigued. Is master Lan Quiren implying that he wouldn't have that much of an issue with a pair of cut-sleeve relationship were they properly married?"

Lan Qiren scoffed. "I admit that would be a great start."

Jiang WanYin's smile widened wildly for just a glimpse in a way that reminded Lan XiChen of those moments he knew he had the winning hand during the few times they fought together at the Sunshot Campaign. A thing that made him excitedly anticipate the great Sandu Shengshou's upcoming actions.

"I am quite relieved to hear of this. If that is the case, Master Lan Qiren, there's a proposal I would like, no, I would love to discuss with you." 

---

Wei Wuxian was somehow splayed on top of Little Apple, looking at the increasingly brightening sky while Lan WangJi was pulling the reins, walking towards the closest city after being travelling through the mountainside a couple of days.

"Ahahahaha oh Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan, did you really see that grave digger's face when all the corpses around him began to rise? Ahahahaha~"

Lan WangJi smiled warmly at his husband's figure. How could he deny him of such pleasures when they brought him so much happiness? Especially when it meant they were doing good. Keeping the spirits to their proper rest.

When they arrived at the city, the place was bustling with energy despite being so early in the morning but it was not the usual one from a large place like this, there was some sort of effervescence and giddiness in the way everyone behaved that both men felt was just a tad bit too excited.

Being a naturally curious person, Wei Wuxian asked the nearest steamed buns stall owner.

"Excuse me, Ma'am" he took a couple of buns while Lan WangJi was already taking out the money to pay. "Can you tell us what is going on that the city is so excited about?"

"Oh my boy! Haven't you heard!?" Said the owner, almost jumping on her heels as if she had just been waiting for someone to ask "The leaders of the Lan and the Jiang sects are getting married!"

Wei Wuxian paled and felt like he had suddenly become a walking corpse while he heard a couple of coins dropping to the floor by his side. He forced a smile on his face.

"Surely that's… that's not right? Is it not, maybe, a pair of disciples?"

"Oh, no, no, no. If it was that they wouldn't be announcing it to the whole world, would they? Just look at the announcements board at the plaza! If you can't trust this old hag, then you can surely trust an official document."

Wei Wuxian somehow brought up a more charming smile "My dear lady, I could never not trust someone that has so much more experience that I can ever dream of"

The old lady cackled while receiving the coins Lan WangJi had picked up again "oh my, you're such a flirt. Here, have another bun for the ride."

Wei Wuxian thanked her and turned around with his mouth open only to see that his man was well beyond him, already walking towards the plaza. He ran towards him and reached the board.

There, in the middle of it all, was a very official looking paper with celebratory imagery surrounding the edges of the announcement.

"It is with great pleasure to announce that the leaders of the Jiang and the Lan sects are organising a wedding to be held in Lotus Pier during the auspicious upcoming new moon of the month of Xin Si at sunset where they expect to celebrate a wedding that will tighten up the relations between both regions of Gusu and Yunmeng. All blessings for the grooms to wed."

The announcement ended with a beautiful seal that joined both sects imagery, a lotus flower floating over a cloud. 

Wei Wuxian read the thing three times before anything made any kind of sense and then one time more.

"The upcoming moon of… oh heavens, Lan Zhan. That is in eight days!!! This is… We cannot stay here! We have to stop this nonsense wedding!"

Lan WangJi was looking at his soulmate with a stern glare that was completely agreeing with Wei Wuxian's exclamation.

"Mn."

Soon enough, they were running to the stable where they had left Little Apple and began their journey towards Wei Wuxian's old home.

---

The day arrived, the whole city of Yunmeng was dressed for the celebration, people wandering excitedly throughout the streets, waiting for the announcement that the marriage was completed. Inside of Lotus Pier, two fine figures in relatively simple red robes were alone, kneeling already at the ancient hall, just waiting for the exact hour. A red veil covering the head of one of them.

"After knowing you through all these years and battles, I have to be honest and say that I know I shouldn't, but I am still impressed about your boldness. Sect Leader Jiang."

Jiang WanYin laughed "Turns out I'm not only good at slashing things, eh?" He winked at the elegant face behind the veil. "Also please call me Jiang WanYin, I hope we're well past certain formalities after this."

The veiled man snickered "Very well, then please do call me Lan XiChen. I'd feel quite saddened if you felt there was any need for formalities with me as well, Jiang WanYin."

Jiang WanYin smiled brightly at the man by his side.

A couple of minutes passed when Lan XiChen began to fidget.

"Are you sure they will come?"

"Oh trust me, I don't know about your HanGuang-Jun but Wei Wuxian will definitely be here. And if he is here…"

"Then WangJi is going to be here as well."

Jiang WanYin nodded in agreement. As if they had summoned the chaotic couple, they heard a commotion starting on the Swords Hall.

"It's the Yiling Patriarch and HanGuang-Jun!"

"Somebody stop them!"

Both men heard the sounds of blades and general fighting getting nearer at each second, sometimes yells of pain.

"Will your disciples be alright, Jiang WanYin?"

"Are you kidding me? They were ecstatic when I told them they would be able to test their skills against the Second Jade of Gusu-Lan. Not that they're anywhere near him but that will help them assess their own strengths."

Lan XiChen snickered. Soon enough, the commotion was right behind them and suddenly the doors of the Ancient Hall burst open and in came Wei Wuxian and Lan WangJi.

"JIANG CHENG!"

"XIONGZHANG!"

The pair in red stood up from their kneeling position and turned to look at the newcomers.

"Ah, my dear WangJi! How auspicious that you managed to arrive in time!"

"Yeah, we would have had a real problem if you didn't show up."

The couple at the doors looked at each other in shock and then glared at their counterparts while approaching them. Wei Wuxian fisted Jiang Cheng's robes and pulled him forward while Lan WangJi almost fell on Lan XiChen's arms, almost imperceptibly glazed eyes.

"Can you tell me what sort of nonsense this is!?"

"Xiongzhang, please!"

Both men in red gave their brothers a smile, albeit one would have been considered saintly while the other devilish. Suddenly, the doors of the Ancient Hall closed once more, startling Wei Wuxian and Lan WangJi. They turned around and saw, appalled some very well known faces.

"HanGuang-Jun, Senior Wei, I'm really glad to see you're well."

"I mean, not like we actually cared but…"

"Oh, don't be a liar! You're the one who wanted to see Senior Wei the most!"

"Can we get going with this? We'll be late for the banquet at this rate."

Before he was able to completely understand what the junior quarter was doing there, Lan WangJi heard his brother.

"Please forgive me WangJi, we cannot afford more stalling, you are indeed a little bit late."

And just like that, he clearly sensed how his spiritual energy was blocked by his own brother's hand.

"Alright, you can take him, Jiang WanYin."

"Gotcha!" Exclaimed the man while leaning forward and carrying a very startled Wei Wuxian like a potato sack and jumping through the threshold that the juniors had opened once more, disappearing through the hallways.

"W… Wait a second! What are you doing!? Lan Zhan! LAN ZHAN SAVE ME!!!"

"WEI YING!!!"

Lan WangJi did his best to get away from his brother's grasp while the frantic screams of his lover moved away from them but it was impossible without his spiritual energy. He turned to look at his brother, a pair of tears menacing to roll over his cheek.

"Now, now, don't look like that, let's go get you changed and refreshed, you'll be able to see him soon."

Unable to do much more, he allowed himself to be guided through another hall towards a guestroom with a sigh, shoulders slightly falling.

"Tche, what's all the drama for? It's not like they're gonna be apart forever."

"Look who's talking, Mistress."

"You-!"

"Please guys, let's not do this right now."

"Yes! A wedding is a very important occasion!"

Chided by his brother, Lan WangJi took a quick bath and began to dress himself in layers of increasingly dark blue without paying too much attention but stopped when he finally noticed the outer garment his brother, now properly dressed with his best silver and light blue robes, was providing. He had in his hands a deep red robe accented with dark blue and silver embroidery reminiscing of clouds around the edges that was to be matched with a dark blue, almost black sash. He looked at the clearly elegant garment in awe and then turned to look at Lan XiChen.

"Xiongzhang, this…"

Lan XiChen gave him a soft smile, already holding a comb. "Come on, dress up, let your big brother do your hair."

Lan WangJi's eyes widened up in comprehension. He felt his ears burn when he finished dressing himself and sat down.

"Xiongzhang, I'm sorry. I thought, we thought…"

Lan XiChen let out a soft chuckle.

"We know." Lan XiChen began to brush softly WangJi's hair. 

Both men got lost in the process of brushing and hairstyling, reminiscing childhood days where the older man took care of the younger in the same way. Lan XiChen sighed while pulling up the hair for the bun after being done with the brushing.

"You know WangJi, I'm really glad I'm able to be here for you today."

Lan WangJi frowned. "Xiongzhang?" 

It was barely a whisper but that didn't stop Lan XiChen to feel the worry.

"I'm going into seclusion WangJi… Don't move, you'll ruin the bun…" Lan XiChen sighed once more "Maybe one of the reasons I agreed to this mad scheme was precisely because I did not want to miss this particular day and knowing how erratic your movements can be I was not sure if I was going to be here otherwise."

Lan WangJi looked downwards, faintly blushing, feeling his brother fix the decorative pins. 

"Which is why I also wanted to tell you…" Lan XiChen grabbed Lan WangJi's forehead band,and began to arrange it on the hairstyle he had fixed, oddly out of place in the middle of so much red and dark blue. "That I don't really have much to tell you about the importance of treasuring your soulmate, since I saw you learn that lesson yourself." Lan WangJi saw a tear trailing down his brother's cheek through the mirror. "...But I can tell you that I am happy for you. And no matter where you go from now on, I hope your travels bring you nothing more than bliss and joy. And that I support you, today and tomorrow and all the years to come."

Lan WangJi felt a knot on his throat.

"There, it's done. Let's go back to the Ancient Hall. I'm sure your future husband is there already."

Lan WangJi stood up and turned to look at his brother. Lan XiChen smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ready?"

Lan WangJi looked at his brother for a second and threw himself at him with a hug. Lan XiChen hugged him back a little startled and felt more than heard his little brother's soft sniffle. He hugged him tighter.

"I love you too."

---

Lan WangJi walked inside the Hall once more. He was shocked when he saw his uncle standing there as well. Feeling overwhelmed, he walked towards him and bowed. The old man scoffed and shooed him towards the altar. Lan WangJi nodded and turned towards the center of the room.

The perfect figure of his husband to be was already kneeling in front of the altar, not slouched or slant but immaculately poised. Bright red gown speckled with gold and lavender motifs of lotus flowers in both the sash and the veil. His face was barely visible but his body showed he was clearly moved. He knelt down by his side.

"Wei Ying" 

His voice had been but a breath but Wei Wuxian had heard him alright. He turned towards him with the brightest smile.

"Look at this Lan Zhan," he whispered "We're finally in front of them… Do you… do you think shijie would have given us her blessing? And Uncle Jiang? And Madam Yu?"

Lan WangJi gave him the softest smile yet.

"Mn."

Wei Wuxian took in a deep breath. Clearly trying to restrain the tears that were already rolling through his face and nodded. Unable to say a thing, very unlike his usual character.

The ceremony went incredibly fast after that. Both Jiang WanYin and Lan XiChen said a couple of words as the ones preceding the ceremony, Jiang WanYin dressed in proper purple, navy and gold robes. The grooms exchanged bows, too short and surprisingly not embarrassing from Wei Wuxian, too long and incredibly bold from Lan WangJi, and then prostrated three times as per the tradition. 

The juniors, the ones acting as witnesses standing behind were all tearing by the end. Jin Ling had been the first to be noticed but Lan JingYi's teasing was not really effective since he was crying as well.

The banquet had been a success. The entire city was celebrating the newlyweds after all so the noise and celebration was everywhere. Around nine, the newlyweds finally bid their goodnight and stepped away from the hall in the middle of catcalling and whistles that Wei Wuxian encouraged, absolutely elated after three bottles of wine. Being carried bridal style by his now very official husband.

The following day they were caught by the juniors before they could run away on Little Apple once more and received a thorough scorn from Jin Ling who screamed at them something about being already married and not seeing the point of acting like a pair of runaway, wanted criminals anyway and that Wei Wuxian better go see him at LanLing or else he would definitely hunt him.

Meanwhile, Jiang WanYin was supervising that not a place had been left uncleaned, with Lan XiChen by his side.

"Are you sure you're not gonna say goodbye?"

"If I say goodbye now, Wei Wuxian won't need to come back later." Jiang WanYin said matter of factly "What about you? I don't see you at the backdoor of Lotus Pier right now."

"I already said all that I needed. Now I feel like I can finally go into seclusion."

Jiang WanYin eyed his counterpart carefully and scoffed. 

"You don't approve of that."

"Obviously Not. You're saying it like you're about to die."

Lan XiChen laughed tiredly.

"You're being dramatic."

"All I'm saying is that this seclusion thing is not going to work for you at all. If you don't come out of your personal coffin after a year I'll come raise you from the dead."

Lan XiChen gave out a tired scoff but said nothing more about it. After all, there was no way Jiang WanYin would know him better than himself. 

"I'll take that as your permission."

Finished the man by his side, ending the conversation.

Both leaders kept on supervising the cleansing of the whole Lotus Pier and making sure it went back to its usual state while, on another side, a figure in black mounted on a donkey waved goodbye to a bunch of sniffling teenagers while a figure in white pulled softly the donkey's reins.

[boymeetsweevil]

SS3 - MYG, Fluff, 1791w

You’re not even supposed to be on the pay roll anymore because you’re supposed to be phasing yourself out of work entirely. There’s a new intern that you’ve been training a few days a week to take over for you until he’s competent enough to let you fully withdraw from your position as secretary to the CEO of Min Corp.

Said intern has just called you with what sounds like tears thickening his voice to inform you that Min Yoongi, said CEO, is terrorizing the employees.

“Jungkook,” you use the same tone you might use to calm down a lost toddler in a grocery store. “Take a deep breath for me please.”

A shaky breath crackles through your phone speaker.

“Good. Now tell me what Yoongi’s doing. What do you mean he’s terrorizing people?”

“Yoongi—I mean, Mr. Min has made three separate IT workers cry because of jammed printer and he sent the head accountant into a panic attack with a request for a two week advance on the quarter reports.”

You sigh and lift a hand that was submerged in the fragrant bath you’d drawn to pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“Did you read the 3rd section of the binder I gave you? There should be stuff in there for when we need to increase speed in specific departments. There’s outside agents we can enlist—”

“I called them, and they’ve agreed to come help out and I’ve gotten the paperwork for their payments ready.”

“Okay. What about the printer?”

“I unjammed it myself. It s-seems to be working fine.”

“Good! So just tell him and I’m sure that’ll solve things.”

“I don’t—I don’t feel super comfortable talking to him right now.”

“Jungkook, I told you that Yoongi is normally very rational. If you tell him the problem’s solved, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Sorry, you’re right.”

He’s quiet then. The sound of paper small clinks in the background grab your attention.

“What’s that sound?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just...he also,” Jungkook sniffs a meek little sound, “knocked over my lego replica of the office. It was an accident though—”

“I’ll leave in 5 minutes. Don’t let him leave his office, barricade the door if you have to.”

It’s defeated tone of voice that makes you get out of the tub you were soaking in. Water gets everywhere and the calming atmosphere you had painstakingly set up so you could have a lazy morning and afternoon is long gone.

Jungkook barely has any time to protest or beg you not to mention him calling you before you hang up.

Normally Yoongi is all bark and no bite. There’s no need to bite when his reputation as a former gangbanger preceded him so well. Too well, in some cases. Yoongi came from almost nothing and turned to illegal activities as a child in an act of desperation to care for his ailing mother. He’d learned about (legal) business after one of his elderly bosses took a liking to him and showed him some of the ropes.

Even after he started getting out of the gang and getting interested in business, it took years to get past the fearful glances and rejections that so many people in the industry sent his way. It was only after a lucky investment that he was able to start building his business from scratch.

Now, he’s able to care for his family and provide means for his employees to do the same while running a successful head hunting firm. When you were fresh out of college and looking for work anywhere, he was the only one that took a chance on your meager application. He was ruthless back then, but so were you.

So in 9 years of acting as his right hand, it was inevitable that you would learn about his past. No one else at the company knew that it nearly cost him his life to start this new chapter. He has the scar on his shoulder to prove it. Sometimes when it gets close to a certain time of year the memory of what he almost lost creeps over him.

When you finally arrive you find Jungkook gnawing on his thumb as he eyes the door to Yoongi’s office unblinkingly. The walls of the office are soundproofed to protect the confidentiality of his clients when he has important meetings and phonecalls, but you can still hear the way he snarls into the phone.

“How long has he been like that,” you ask as you hang up your coat behind Jungkook’s desk. The lego office lies in a heap of probably more than a thousand pieces in a pilfered custodian’s bucket. You can’t help but frown.

“About 20 minutes on the phone. Maybe a few hours today in general.”

“Alright. I'll go in.”

“Is that safe,” he eyes you with poorly hidden awe as you move towards the door.

“Is a zookeeper safe when they enter a tiger’s cage?”

“No?”

“That’s your answer, I guess.”

“Seokjin, I don’t give a flying fuck about the new cases. I gave those to your team weeks ago. Bring me an update on the Simmons case, or I swear I’ll come down there and pull it out your ass myself.”

The sound of the door to the office closing has him rushing to end the call so he can redirect the yelling. He tosses his phone back onto the glass surface of his desk with a harsh crack and turns to face the skyline in the window, his back facing you.

“I thought I told you I don’t want any more of that shit you call tea. It’s doing fuck all to calm me down so why don’t you—”

“Mr. Min, please take a seat.”

The line of his shoulders, already grimly hunched, shoots up further. He clearly wasn’t expecting you. It’s your day off. Technically.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is still low and tense, but the volume is significantly softer.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Min.”

There’s no need for pretenses when the two of you are alone. You could curse him with the foulest language you have for being an ass to the people who keep his company functioning like the well oiled machine that it is. But you know that your message is that much louder by using your professional voice with him.

He turns then, dark brows set heavy over stormy eyes. It would be incredibly intimidating if it weren’t for the slight turn in his lower lip giving him a subtle petulant expression. Someone’s having a bad day.

Grumbling the entire time, Yoongi takes himself to the long leather sofa that rests off to the side of the office. You make your way over to the couch as well after peering at his desk. It’s covered in papers as if he dumped onto the table one of the folders that he normally organizes with great care. The collection of expensive fountain pens that he’s received as gifts from various successful deals lay strewn about as well. And there’s a hairline crack running through the surface of the ornate globe he received as a birthday gift from one of his old bosses.

When you finally come to stand behind him, the grumbling has been replaced with silent fuming. His arms are crossed and his silk tie hangs like a dead snake around his neck after being roughly undone.

With no words, you reach forward and slide the shoulders of his jacket down  his arms. 

“You don’t have to,” he sighs a moment later. If you listen closely you can already hear the embarrassment from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Ignoring him, you dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. He jumps and lets out a hiss as you drag the pads of your fingers over the raised skin of his scar beneath the fine cotton of his button down. A low curse leaves his lips but nothing more comes out as you continue to untangle the muscles that had somehow knotted up impressively during the few hours of the day that had passed. You can only imagine how painful the actual injury is despite it having healed a little more than a decade ago. 

It takes a while and your hands cramp up with the amount of force you’re using to massage the pain away. When there’s merely a phantom ache, he raises a hand to grasp one of yours. The action has you freezing up this time. He turns his head so the soft skin of his cheek brushes against your wrist. His cheeks are damp from a few pained tears he shed. His lips press dryly against the back of your palm and he turns more so he can pull your hand forward. It’s awkward but he doesn’t care. So long as he can pepper small kisses against your hands.

“Come back to work,” he says finally. 

“No.”

“Marry me, then.” There’s no flair, no drama. He says it like he’s asking you to run an errand with him.

“No. And stop always asking me that.”

“I’ll stop asking when you stop saying no.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, you’ve never given a reason. I deserve that at least.”

He turns to face you then with eyes that are just a tad bit shiny. All of the sharp, feline essence gone when replaced by frustration that’s still plenty fond.

“Because I don’t feel like it yet. And it’s fun to tell you no.”

From this angle, you can see the very top of the tiger tattoo he got when he was not yet a man. It peaks out of from underneath his collar. You pick up his tie and loop it back around his neck while he’s distracted.

“Have pity on me” he lays his cheek back on your wrist as you finish up a simple Windsor knot. “I’m just a simple man who wants to settle down with the love of his life.”

“How about you go apologize to everyone for your outburst,” he winces but looks properly ashamed. “And then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.”

“And make sure you give a special apology to Jungkook for ruining his replica.”

“To the temp, are you kidding me? The kid put it on the edge where it was begging to get broken. I’m pretty sure the tail of my jacket did it.”

“Just do it, Yoongi.”

He leans in then, nose brushing against yours. “Say yes and I’ll even hire someone to rebuild it for him.”

“Go apologize already.”

He huffs but strides to the door with purpose.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 6

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, drinking, maybe a little heartache.

Word Count: 7,750

A/N: Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Italics are internal thoughts. This is strictly for fun. I know nothing about the lives of these two individuals, so this is purely fiction.

Catch up with chapter 5

Scott called about an hour later. The two of you apologizing to each other which neither of you really needed to do.

“Look, I’m sorry about Chris taking my phone. I should have called you when I got home rather than calling you with Chris there,” Scott said.

He sounded down which you hated. None of this mess was Scott’s fault.

“You honestly have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry that you were even caught in the middle of whatever that was,” you replied and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with Chris. But I don’t think it’s fair that he gets to pick and choose when he wants to be a part of my life. I mean, it’s been about a month of us barely speaking.”

“Completely agree with you there,” Scott said.

“I get it though, he’s with Courtney now. And for as much as he and I were talking before New Year, I can see how that wouldn’t necessarily be something you could carry on doing when in a relationship,” you said.

“Plus, my brother is a flirt.”

“That he is,” you sighed.

“On to more serious topics. So how slutty did you decide to go?” Scott asked.

“You’re impossible,” you replied.

Jana agreed that neither dress would be considered as Scott put it, slutty. One just showed a tiny bit of cleavage and the other showed just a tad more. You decided that the deep purple flattered more, even if it did show a bit of cleavage.

Ethan arrived promptly at six with a bouquet of roses in hand. The varying shades of pink matched the color of his cheeks, which frankly was adorable.

The Capital Grille was a beautiful restaurant with old world charm. Mahogany stained wainscoting and rich red paint covered the walls. Crisp white linens with intimate lamp lighting adorn each of the tables. It’s far nicer restaurant than the last few dates you have been on. You like Chilis as much as the next person, but Ethan was definitely trying to impress and you appreciated the effort.

“I hear congrats are in order,” you said, pleasant smile on your face.

He ducks his face for a second but then offers a strong grin. “Thank you. Thank you. I take it Jana told you the news?” he asked. You nodded, taking a sip of your champagne cocktail, enjoying the flavor of the peach vodka. “I worked hard and it paid off.”

Lifting your glass, you angled it toward him. “Cheers to making partner,” you offered.

He clinked his glass of bourbon against yours, offering you a gentle smile and a muttered thank you.

Dinner was delicious and the ride home not as awkward as you assumed it would be. While you had known Ethan for over a year, each interaction had only been minutes and it was generally him offering you dazzling smiles. This Ethan was sweet and eager to know about you. The cockiness that he generally pushed out was more subdued and a part of you could see this moving on two a second and a third date.

Ethan walked you to your door and you were almost tempted to invite him in, but you did want to push this into a one and done date. Leaning in, you offered him a hug which he fully embraced. The woodsy scent of his cologne enveloped you as your face rested in the crock of his neck. After you hugged a bit too long, your pulled back with flushed cheeks, only to be met with his soft pillowy lips cooling the heat.

You went to bed that night with a smile on your face. Jana and Scott could hear about your evening later.

Ethan sent you a text around lunch the next day. Just a simple check in that kept that smile going.

Ethan: Hi 😊 Hope your day is off to a great start.

On Valentine’s Day, Ethan didn’t send anything or ask to take you out. It was much too early for something like that in your opinion, but he did send you a good morning text and another that afternoon.

Ethan: I know this is short notice, but can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?

Y/N: That sounds great. Do you want to meet somewhere or are you picking me up?

Ethan: I’d like to surprise you. Pick you up at nine?

Y/N: Great! I’ll see you tomorrow.

Ethan: Have a wonderful day beautiful.

 Brunch was at Disney’s Contemporary Resort. The California Grill not only offered dinner with a spectacular view, but it also offered an upscale brunch on the weekends. On your first date, you told Ethan about your love for the mouse. Even though he was a native Floridian, he confessed he’d only gone to the parks a couple of times as an adult.

“We should go sometime,” you said, pointing at the castle that could be seen from your table.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“I mean, only if you want to. It would be a fun date,” you said shyly.

“You’re going to let me take you on more dates?”

What a flirt.

“Or I could take you. Ever think of that?” you sassed.

“Alright. Yeah, you take me out. As long as you buy me a churro,” Ethan said.

“I’ll even throw in popcorn!”

Ethan stuck out his hand for you to shake. You turned your head to the side and gave him a lopsided grin before extending your own.

“Deal,” he said.

The date ended in a sweet kiss that felt right.

It was a week before Chris makes the first move and reaches out to you. Via text message of course. You’re in the middle writing an article about your brunch with Ethan a couple of days ago. The brunch is not a new offering at the hotel, but it’s the first time you’ve dined there and your boss agreed it could be a nice article for the paper’s online edition. Since you thought an article was a strong possibility, your date humored you as you took several photos of your and Ethan’s entrees, the buffet offerings as well as the Bloody Mary bar with your phone’s camera. You’re happy you did. It’s always nice to be able to use your own pictures to add a personal touch to the article rather than using images Disney supplies.

Chris: “Please forgive me – I know not what I do”

That asshole.

Using your love of soft rock against you was a cheap move. He knew about your obsession with Bryan Adams. It wasn’t something you shouted from rooftops, but you also didn’t hide it which is why you confessed one of your more recent regrets was missing him in concert at Red Rocks. A guy you were seeing at the time suggested the trip to Colorado but you didn’t feel the two of you were at the “vacation together” stage.

Chris: Can I call you? I really want to talk to you.

You slapped your phone face down on your desk.

Nope. Not right now. Work first. Chris drama later. Much later.

A second later you grabbed your phone off the desk and saw that a new message had come in.

Ethan: Hi Beautiful. Can I see you tomorrow night?

Smiling to yourself, you typed out a quick reply.

Y/N: Hello Mister charmer. Yes, I’m free tomorrow night.

Hitting send on the message, you placed the phone in the desk drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

 With the dinner dishes currently drying in the rack, you walked outside to your lanai, sitting down on the cushioned loveseat. Tucking one leg under the other, you got comfy. Despite it being the middle of February, the temperatures were still comfortable in the high sixties at night. You dug your phone out of your pocket and passed it back and forth between your hands. The text from Chris had burned a hole in your brain all afternoon, despite your best effort to forget it. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three before hitting the phone icon on Chris’ contact information. If you two were going to have a conversation, you wanted to have some control.

It rang only twice before he answered.

“Y/N? Hi.” He definitely sounded nervous which slightly put you at ease.

“H-hi, Chris. Is now a good time?” you asked.

“Yeah…Just give me a second,” he replied.

It sounded as though he was moving. You could hear voices in the background getting quieter. Then you heard a door close.

“I can call you back later, if you’re busy,” you offered.

“No. No. Just watching TV with a friend. Not a big deal,” Chris said.

Part of you wondered if the friend was Courtney. Not that it was any of your concern.

“I’m glad you called. I was a little worried when you didn’t reply to my text,” he said almost shyly.

“I was working.” You took a breath. That wasn’t the whole truth. “Too be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. This has been weird for me,” you said.

“Been weird for me too,” he interrupted. “You’re right. We haven’t been talking, so I shouldn’t have expected you to have told me you had a date. I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure what you expected from the conversation. Chris didn’t really owe you anything. If you guys weren’t as close as you once were, then that’s just the way it is. But you couldn’t help yourself.

“Why haven’t we been talking? I mean…I feel like I’ve put effort into it. Into our friendship. You know what? Never mind. I appreciate you saying sorry. I’ll let you go,” you said.

“What? No. Please. Tell me what you were going to say. Please,” Chris pleaded.

You let out a slow breath and licked your lips. “You really pulled away in January,” you started. “And maybe the last couple of weeks I’ve stopped trying as much, but I started to feel like I was the only one trying. This…this thing between us shouldn’t have to feel like work.”

He slightly groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy and I know that’s not fair to you. Sweetheart, I don’t want to lose you. Can we please try again?”

There he goes again making you weak with that nickname. You truly missed talking to Chris and you really hoped the two of you could get back to the way you were. As long as he tried.

“Okay. But only because you said please.”

He chuckled at your response. “Good. Ma did teach me manors, I’ll have you know,” he said.

“Then how do you explain Scott?” you asked.

 You’d like to say that your friendship with Chris went back to daily phone calls and constant text messaging, but it didn’t. It was better, but it wasn’t what it once was. You chalked it up to him being with Courtney and you being with Ethan. The two of you texted each other once a day, but it was mainly memes and the occasional, “how’s your day?” Neither of you brought up your partners. But that was probably for the best. Besides, that just seemed…awkward.

That Magic Kingdom date you wanted to take Ethan hadn’t happened yet. The two of you had been seeing each other for just over a month. Two weeks in, he asked if you were exclusive and you said yes. It might have seemed fast to some, but you were seeing each other every other night. He texted you daily with sweet words and charmed you with multiple phone calls. A fresh bundle of various types of flowers in gorgeous hues of red, pink, yellow and creams were given to you weekly. Ethan was great and you were happy. Were you in love? No. But that’s something that came in time.

While you hadn’t gone on a true double date with Jana and Brooks, you had dined with the two of them at dinners with the other partners. Other nights were spent schmoozing Ethan’s clients. It had become a regular thing the last two weeks. You drew the line at three nights a week. Some nights you just wanted time with your boyfriend. And some nights you just wanted time for yourself. On the nights he was out without you, he’d come over when he was finished to spend the night at your place. Often dragging you to bed way earlier than you were used to. Scott did not appreciate your missed late-night phone calls, but you always made sure to touch base with him at some point during the day. You did not want to be accused of being a friend who forgot about everyone else once in a relationship.

“You’re lucky I love you. Taking your calls during the middle of the day like you’re my mother. Am I going to meet this boyfriend of yours?” he asked.

“Am I going to meet yours?” you countered.

“Touché…So, Chris and Courtney broke up,” he said casually like he was discussing the weather.

“Oh.” You’re so caught off guard, you’re not sure how to respond. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, they do this. He says this is it this time. They just don’t work together,” he replied.

This is none of my business.

You reply with a hum. Since Chris and you don’t discuss your relationships as some sort of unwritten rule, it doesn’t feel right to discuss his breakup.

Scott seems to get the hint.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” he asked.

“Just watching a movie at his place. Nothing too exciting,” you replied.

Ethan knew about Scott, but he didn’t know Scott was an actor or the brother of Captain America. You didn’t hide it, but Ethan just wasn’t invested enough in knowing your friends. He was busy and you understood that.  

 Jana had taken a late lunch and met you at a strip mall near her office for a quick lunch and some shopping. With all the dinner dates, you needed to add a couple of dresses to your rotation.

“Are you out five nights a week like Ethan? I just feel it’s excessive,” you asked Jana.

“Kind of.” She shrugs. “Maybe three nights. Some weeks, just once,” she said.

“Then why the fuck have I been going three nights a week the last two weeks? I have to encourage him to go without me. Sometimes I just want to watch TV,” you whine.

She lets out a choppy laugh. “Ethan’s a work-aholic. I’m pretty sure I told you that before you two even got together. He’s just trying to prove himself to his new clients and the other partners.”

You had a pile of dresses in your hands and it was getting to the point where you were pretty sure your arm was going numb.

“Come please,” you beckoned Jana with a head nod toward the changing rooms. “I need you to help me decide.”

She followed you, taking a seat just outside your changing room door. Before you even put on the first dress, Ethan was calling you on your phone.

“Is it Ethan?” Jana asked.

“Yep. Hang on,” you told her through the changing room door.

“Hey Eth.”

“Hey Beautiful. How are you? Are you at work?” he asked.

“Good and no, taking a long lunch,” you said while shimming your pants down. Expertly holding your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Shopping for some dresses. All these dinners we go on, I’m running out of things to wear. Jana met me, we grabbed lunch before and are headed back to work soon,” you said.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed “Where are you?” he asked.

“At that strip mall on Citrus near your office,” you replied.

You’ve managed to unbutton the twelve or so buttons on your shirt without dropping your phone. You throw your fist in the air to celebrate, almost dropping your phone in the process.

“Wait, you’re near my office and you didn’t stop by?”

You love that he always wants to see you, but he spent the night at your place last night. But then again, you’ve dated guys that thought two dates a week was a lot.

“Eth, aren’t I seeing you tonight? I just needed some girl time,” you replied.

“Alright, fine. I just miss you,” he mumbles over the phone.

Your cheeks grow hot. This big, bad, scary lawyer is mush for you.

“You’re too sweet. I’ll see you later though,” you said.

“Okay. Bye sweetie,” he said.

“Bye Ethan.”

You slip on the first dress and walk out to show Jana. She immediately shakes her head and you walk right back in.

The next three she’s iffy about, but tells you to put the last of the three in the maybe pile.

You walk out in the fourth and she gasps. “That’s way too nice for a night out with clients, but that looks so good on you.”

You turn around to get a different angle in the mirror. She’s right. The cobalt blue looks great against your skin tone. The cut making your ass look great. You nod and smile, doing a twirl to make her laugh.

Before you make it back in the changing room, she grabs your hand.

“What did Ethan have to say,” she asked.

“He was just checking in,” you say with a shrug. “Wanted to know if I was stopping by when we’re done.”

“He calls a lot, doesn’t he?” she asked hesitantly.

“Jana,” you half chuckle. “Where’s this coming from?”

She lets out a small sigh. “It just seems like you guys spend a lot of time together. Do you ever feel like it’s lot? You were texting him at lunch.”

You’re not sure what’s she getting at. Yes, Ethan checks in quite often, but it’s a new relationship and you like spending time with him. It makes you feel good that someone cares that much about you. And yeah, it’s a lot, but it will probably lessen as time goes by.

“It’s new, Jana. We’re at that stage where we can’t get enough of each other. It’s fine. It’s sweet.”

She gives you a small smile. “Okay. You’re right. I’m just being weird. I am really happy for you,” she adds.

You walk back into the changing room, suddenly feeling a little down. You change out of the dress, opting to put your dark wash jeans and pink button-down back on. You grab the maybe dress and the cobalt blue dress to pay for. There’s a tiny bit of doubt planted in your mind now and you’re not sure what to think.

 Ethan’s cut back on the amount of nights he works late in the office, instead opting to work at your place or at his. He’s even trimmed down on the client and partner dinners, only going if you have agreed to go. It’s a lot of time together and it’s really starting to take its toll. At first, you loved all the attention, but you can’t help but think back to that tiny seed of doubt that was planted a few weeks ago. Scott’s even mentioned that you’re more withdrawn, despite your best effort to call or text him often.

It’s a beautiful spring night and you’re on your lanai enjoying the extra hours of sunlight that April brings. The darkness of winter always gets you down; you can’t help but soak up the sun for as long as you can get it. You’re working on an article for Epcot’s Flower and Garden Festival for the online edition. The festival has been going on for a month and you’ve already written a preview article for the paper, but this one is more your speed. You’ve been writing more and more for the online edition. Those articles allow you to really insert yourself into the story and write about the event from your personal experience.

The sliding glass door opens and closes behind you. You feel Ethan’s hands on your shoulders as he starts to gently rub them. An hour ago, volumes from The Southern Reporter and The Law of Torts, as well as his laptop were spread out across your kitchen island.

He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s go to bed sweetheart,” he softly says into your hair.

It’s eight o’clock. And the sun hasn’t set. The urge to snap at him is strong, but you bite your tongue.

“Go ahead without me. I want to finish this tonight so it can go up tomorrow,” you replied.

You turn around slightly and give him a small smile. This has become a normal fight between the two of you the last couple of weeks. Ever since he’s cut back on his nights out. You’ve always been a bit of a night owl, going to bed at ten feels like a compromise.

“Sweetie, I’m beat. It’s been a long week. You can finish that up in the morning. Wake up with me, you sleep too late anyway.”

You sigh out loud. “Ethan, this is work. I really need to get it finished and I don’t want to wake up at six and feel like I need to rush to finish. You’re perfectly fine to go to bed without me.”

He comes around the loveseat to stand in front of you.

“Please? For me?” he begs, voice light and sweet that you almost cave.

You shake your head. You’re not even tired. He’ll be passed out in fifteen minutes and you’ll be lying awake for hours.

“Sorry Eth. I’ll see you in there later,” you said.

You offer him a smile again before turning your attention back to your laptop screen.

“It’s like you don’t want to spend time we me anymore.”

Really? This is how this night is going to go?

“That’s not fair. We see each other almost every day. Even yesterday when I was at the park late for work, I still crawled into bed at your place when I was done.”

“My point exactly, I was already in bed.”

“We’re both busy Ethan. You work a lot. I work a lot. I honestly am giving you all my free time. I haven’t seen Jana in forever and she works in the same building as you!”

The two of you have only been together for two months. It’s too much too soon and you feel like you’re going to implode.

“Excuse me for wanting to spend time together with my girlfriend,” he said abruptly.

“If you’re sleeping, we’re not really spending time together either,” you counter. “I have to get back to this.” You point at your laptop.

“You write stories about theme parks, Y/N. It’s not that serious,” he grumbles as he starts to walk back inside.

You hop up, going after him, catching the door before he closes it.

“What a shitty thing to say. This is my career. I don’t care if I am writing about the neighbor’s dog taking a shit in my yard. I’m a writer and a journalist.”

Your face is on fire and you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“You’re right. You’re right. You’re right,” he quickly offers. His hands going to your biceps.

“I think you should leave,” you said sternly.

“Y/N, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Ethan, I need space. Please just leave,” you replied.

He nods solemnly, letting go of your arms and walking back in your bedroom to grab his duffle bag.

He walks back out of the room and gives you a sad smile before making his way to your front door. “I really am sorry for what I said.”

You nod your head and follow him to the door, closing it once he’s through the threshold. There’s a pit in your stomach and you’re shaking slightly. Finding the couch, you collapse onto it and as the tears start to flow. You don’t know if your crying because your angry, hurt, or overwhelmed.

Sleep that night is restless. Ethan has been a part of your day for the last two months. It was an odd feeling to sleep without him. What he said about your job was hurtful. Did he really think so low of you? The man that praises you daily with sweet words and gentle kisses found it so easy to cut you down.

The story doesn’t get posted the next day like you had planned. You opted for a sick day, staying in bed and ignoring your phone completely. You needed a day just for you. The relationship was too much way too soon. You’d always had that independent streak and to practically be living with someone suddenly, it was a big change.

You managed to finish your story before going to sleep that night, e-mailing it off so that it could be posted in the morning. Finding your old alarm clock because you still didn’t want to face your cellphone was a struggle. It was buried inside a box of clothes for donation that you’ve been meaning to drop off for the last seven months. Setting the alarm for nine, you fell asleep easy due to the lack of sleep and the crying the night before.

 As expected, you had several missed phone calls from Ethan, a call from Jana and a couple of text messages from Scott and Chris. You didn’t talk to Jana or Brooks at all yesterday and you knew Ethan wouldn’t go to her with this, so you knew it was just a normal check in call you missed. It was hard to listen to Ethan’s calls in the morning. You were still pretty angry at him for what he said about your career. You were also angry at yourself for sticking in a relationship you weren’t entirely happy with. You really liked Ethan and cared about him, but you knew you couldn’t go back to the way things had been. The three messages were all the same. Apologizing for how the conversation went. Saying he missed me and hoped I would forgive him. You still needed more time.

Y/N: I need more time. Please understand.

A few minutes later her responded.

Ethan: Of course. Take all the time you need.

You fired off similar texts about having a migraine yesterday to Jana, Scott, and Chris. Since you weren’t sure what was going to happen with you and Ethan, you didn’t want to say anything to Jana or Scott yet.

 A few days had passed when you finally called Ethan and asked to meet at the coffee shop the two of you took to visiting on Sunday mornings. You were nervous about seeing him which was such an odd feeling. You had gone from seeing him, kissing him, sleeping with him, to not speaking for several days and your nerves were shot.

When you entered the small shop, you saw Ethan already sitting at your normal table, two cups of coffee already waiting. He spotted you as well and quickly stood up, offering you a nervous smile.

“Hi,” you greeted him.

He leaned in for a hug and you accepted it.

“Hi,” he responded, still holding you.

When the two of you let go, you took a seat, already grasping on to the mug for comfort.

“Thanks,” you said, slightly lifting the warm mug.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he replied, small smile on his lips.

“Of course. Listen. I’m sorry for how I handled our fight that night. I shouldn’t have kicked you out, instead we should have talked. Actually, I think we should have talked a lot sooner than that night,” you said.

“I’m so sorry for how I behaved,” he interrupted. “I didn’t mean what I said about your job. I over reacted and I apologize.”

“Ethan, it’s more than that,” you sighed out. “We aren’t working. I care about you, but I don’t think we fit together as a couple.”

He starts to shake his head slightly. “That’s not true. We get along so well and we feel so right.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s just too much for me. All this time we spend together, it’s too much too soon for me. I’ve always liked my alone time, and time with friends. I’m not used to spending every night with somebody. I’m sorry.” You pick up the mug and take a few sips. Breaking up with someone is never fun and your thankful this is only your second time. Granted, getting broken up with is no picnic either.

“But-But that doesn’t mean we need to breakup. I can give you space. Start sleeping at my place more. This doesn’t mean we can’t see each other,” he argues.

You take his hand in yours. You truly do care about Ethan, but you let yourself get wrapped up in someone else which you know isn’t healthy. Ethan pretty much planned your days and nights for the last two months and you just let him. Looking back, you wish you wouldn’t have jumped right into the relationship. Maybe things would have been different.

“I care about you, but this isn’t what I want. I’m sorry and as cliché as it sounds, I want to be your friend again,” you replied.

You’d still see Jana; she was your best friend. Neither of you would want the awkwardness that would come from your regular office visits.

He squeezes your hand and then keeps it encompassed in both of his. He takes a couple of breaths before speaking.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t work this out and I’m sorry if I pushed to hard too fast,” solemnly he replied.

You shook your head no. “That’s on me too.”

The two of you part the same way you began, with a hug.

 That night you call Jana and then Scott. Jana’s supportive of your decision but she’s also upset for you. She brings up your office visits and you explain that you don’t see a problem with them. Of course, it will be awkward to begin with, but you hope you and Ethan can get to a place where you’re able to have conversations as you are coming and going.

Scott is taken aback that you’re calling him at midnight your time, he’s even maybe a little surprised you are calling at all.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I recognize this number,” he said with such snark.

“Is this Chris Evans? Maybe I have the wrong number,” you sassed back.

“You bitch,” he said before bursting into laughter.

“Yes, it’s me calling, brat. Deal with it,” you said.

“The boyfriend let you have a free night?”

Had you still been dating Ethan, you would have only rolled your eyes at that, but now that you’re broken up, it only shows you that you really were wrapped up in each other.

You let out a small cough, then clear your throat. “Well, actually, um, we broke up.”

“You did? I’m so sorry sweetie. Are you okay?” he asked sincerely.

“Ye-yeah. It was for the best. I think I just need to pledge of celibacy. Apparently, I’m not cut out for a relationship.”

“I doubt that. That’s not what he said is it? I’ll beat him up,” Scott threatened.

“No, no. Not at all,” you chuckled. “I broke up with him. I was beginning to feel suffocated by the amount of time we spent together. And if I wanted to do my own thing, he would make me feel bad about doing so. Plus, he called my job a joke more or less.”

“Well, that’s horseshit and I hope you know that,” Scott said.

“Completely agree. Sure, maybe it’s not something I want to do forever, but I enjoy my job and I do it well. It hurt that he said that, which is what caused me to take time to myself and decide to end it. I just need some me time,” you said.

“You deserve it. But don’t get holed up in that house of yours. Call Jana and some of your work friends to go out. You need to let loose,” he said.

“Yeah. You’re right. Probably this weekend.”

But you didn’t. It was work and then home for the last five days. You did make it to the grocery store over the weekend, but that was the extent of your adventures. You hadn’t gone to Jana’s office yet, but you did meet for lunch a few days prior. It was easier to mope at home. Alone.

Scott: Please tell me you’ve left the house besides going to work.

Y/N: I went to the store on Sunday. Does that count?

Scott: Sassy, you can’t stay home and just be sad. That’s not good for you either.

Y/N: I’m fine. I was with someone almost every day for two months, being home alone is a nice change.

Scott: I’m not disagreeing there. But it’s also therapeutic to socialize with others. Maybe get drunk. Dance on a table.

Y/N: That sounds more like your speed Grumpy.

 Yes, it was nearing the end of April, but you still had those twenty or so Christmas movies to get through which is what you were working on Wednesday night when Scott called you at a surprisingly early time.

“Guess what?” he gushed.

“What?” you said with a laugh.

“I’m coming to visit you!” he sing-songed.

“What?! When?” you asked.

“Friday. So, you better call in sick or take the day off.”

“Not that I don’t want you to come, but what’s with the last-minute trip?” you asked.

“What? I can’t just want to visit?” he insisted.

“Scott…”

“When one of my bestie’s is down, I am there for them. You’re one of my bestie’s and you need me. I’ve already booked the flight, so you can’t say no.” he chided.

“Hon, I appreciate it, but I promise you I am fine. Of course, I’d love to see you though.”

“Good. Then it’s settled,” he said.

“Are you renting a car or am I picking you up?”

“You are stuck with me all weekend, so you are picking me up. I’ll text you my flight info,” Scott said.

“Goodnight trouble,” you replied.

“Night Sassy.”

Now you needed to clean your house. Sure, it was clean, but overnight guest clean? Not even close.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was Thursday night and Scott was packing his bag last minute for his trip to Orlando in the morning. Not entirely sure what their plans will be, even though he’s the one that planned the trip, he packs a little bit of everything. A suit for going out, shorts, tees, sandals, boots.

“Sassy has a pool, right?” he said to himself. “I’m sure she does.”

With swim trunks securely packed in his rolling bag, he zips it up, before dropping it to the floor.

His phone starts to ring and he sees that it’s Chris, suddenly remembering he was supposed to call him to cancel.

“Hey,” Scott answered.

“Hey. What time are you coming by?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot to call you. I’m flying out early tomorrow so, I’m not coming by.”

“What? Where are you going?” Chris asked.

“To visit Y/N,” Scott said.

“Why are you visiting Y/N?” Chris asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Because I want to see her. Plus, she needs me.” Scott answered.

“Needs you? What’s going on with Sassy?” Chris asked, growing tired of this game Scott was playing.

“Why? God, do you not talk to Y/N, like ever? She and Ethan broke up.” Scott exclaimed.

“We talk,” Chris scoffed. “Just not about her boyfriend. When did they break up? Is she okay?”

“Like a week or so ago. Maybe call your friend once in a while,” Scott spit out.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.” Chris sighed out.

When the call ended, Chris wiped a hand down his face, leaning back into the couch cushion. Scott was right. He hadn’t been calling Y/N like he should. When they had that long call a couple of months back, he told her he didn’t want to lose her friendship and while they still talked, they were barely friends at this point. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little jealous that Scott was visiting her. He needed to make a change.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After picking up a very excited Scott from the airport, the two of you made a stop at the liquor store per Scott’s request, because, per Scott, “I don’t trust your wine selection.”

Sigh.

After that regretful stop which included picking up a bottle of raspberry flavored vodka, the two of you stopped at a grocery store for breakfast items, frozen pizza, and chips and salsa. The essentials of course.

After a quick tour of your house including a stop in the guest room so that Scott could set his bag down, he immediately ordered you to take a shower.

“I love you like a sister, but you’re looking rough my dear,” he said.

You had showered that morning, but didn’t put any effort into your hair, makeup, or outfit choice.

“Scott, I really don’t want to go out. I rather just hang out with you. Please?” you pleaded.

“We don’t have to go out, but we are getting pretty tonight. Go shower and I’m going to lay out what you are wearing on your bed,” he said.

You stuck out your lower lip to pout, but complied. Scott was here. In your house! Really, you’d go out if he asked. You started toward your bathroom, Scott promptly slapping your ass as you went.

“Brat!” you said, turning around sticking out your tongue.

After a quick shower, you blow-dried your hair, applied some light makeup before walking your towel clad body to your bedroom. Scott laid out the cobalt blue dress you bought with Jana about a month ago but never had the chance to wear. You smiled to yourself, quickly changing into the dress, opting to go barefoot since you weren’t actually leaving.

Walking back into your living room, you were met with a wolf whistle from Scott. He was dressed in a blue suit, the shirt underneath in a slightly lighter color. The two of you almost matching which made you grin.

“Looking pretty good yourself Evans,” you replied.

“Thank you.” He bowed to you. “Thank you,” he said.

“What are we having for dinner?” you asked.

“Let’s start with the chips and salsa. And the vodka. We’ll have the wine tomorrow,” he replied.

It was going to be a long night.

 The two of you never did eat anything else. The bag of chips was entirely gone as well as a lot of the raspberry vodka. Scott commandeered your Bluetooth speakers at one point, starting a playlist he had created. The two of you dancing in your fancy clothes and barefoot to Liam Payne’s Strip That Down.

You know I love it when the music's loud But c'mon, strip that down for me, baby Now there's a lot of people in the crowd But only you can dance with me So put your hands on my body And swing that round for me, baby (swing)

“Are you having fun?” Scott yells over the music.

Your body continues to dance to the beat. You offer him a thumbs up, because you’re singing along.

“Oh, strip that down, girl. Love when hit the ground, girl. Oh, strip that down, girl. Love, when you hit ground.”

The song changes to Demi Lovato Confident. Scott starts to sing along and you’re in hysterics.

“I used to hold my freak back. Now I'm letting go. I make my own choice. Bitch, I run this show So leave the lights on. No, you can't make me behave.” Scott sings out.

Scott grabs you so that your back is against his chest. He takes his phone and starts recording the two of you swaying and singing along.

What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident?

Scott apparently sends the video clip to Chris because a short time later, Chris is facetiming Scott on his phone.

“Chris!” Scott shouts when he sees his brother’s face on the screen.

“Where are you two?” Chris asks.

You kind of duck out of the way of Scott’s camera. Throughout all your phone calls with Chris going back to October, you’ve never once facetimed him before. Even with the amount of raspberry flavored vodka in your blood, it still made you nervous to talk to him face to face.

“We’re at Sassy’s house!” Scott replied.

Chris chuckled at Scott’s response. “I could have sworn you two were at a club. You’re dressed to go out. Sassy, you were lookin’ sexy in that video Scott sent,” Chris said loud enough for you to hear.

You know your cheeks are flushed, from the dancing, drinking, and now, Chris’ comment.

“This is just how we do big brother,” Scott said. “Sassy’s being shy from the camera.”

Scott flips around his phone so that you can see Chris and he can see you. You wave awkwardly at him.

“Hey sweetheart. Good to see you again,” Chris said.

He looks good, but, when doesn’t he? He’s got on a simple gray t-shirt and jeans, but his hair has grown out a bit and his beard is full.

“You-you too,” you said with a smile.

Scott turns the camera back to him. “Don’t give me that pout. Call Y/N on your own time.”

“I was just calling to see how you to were getting along,” Chris offers.

“Smashingly of course. But if you will excuse us, we have a dance party to get back to.”

Scott disconnects the call before you hear Chris respond back. You give him a smile and resume Demi’s song.

 You wake up to another hangover. In your defense, Christmas was months ago. You did pretty well with the whole ‘I’m never drinking again’ thing. Despite Scott being shown where his room is this weekend, he’s asleep next to you. You had managed to change into a t-shirt, but Scott had only managed to take his jacket off. Deciding to let him sleep since he is a guest, you make your way to the bathroom, slipping on a pair of sweats first, and then to the kitchen.

You make pancakes and sausage patties because it’s quick and easy and you really need something in your stomach as soon as possible. It’s already after eleven when breakfast is ready.

Walking back into your bedroom, you crawl back into the bed, running your hand through Scott’s hair to gently wake him. He starts to stir and puts on a sleepy smile.

“Breakfast is ready,” you said softly, withdrawing your hand.

“Well, don’t stop,” he said, eyes still closed.

You let out a giggle and resume rubbing his scalp. “It’s going to get cold.”

When that does nothing to get him moving, you speak again. “I made pancakes.”

“Finnnnee. I’m awake.”

 You both spend a lazy day in the pool. Scott lounging on a floaty shaped like a piece of pizza and you on a donut. A frozen pizza is baked around three in the afternoon because your stomach starts to growl much to Scott’s delight.

Jana calls to see how Scott’s visit is going, but you think she’s more calling to pry. When Scott hears his own name, he asks who you are talking to. You tell him it’s Jana and he grabs the phone from your hand. You’re only hearing one side of the conversation but he’s asking her and Brooks to dinner and apparently, they agreed because he tells them we’ll meet them at seven.

Dinner is at a bistro near your house that you’ve eaten at several times before. You always get a cup of French onion soup no matter the time of year.

“Is this one driving you to book an early flight tomorrow?” Brooks teases.

“She won’t let me leave! I don’t know how you worked with her for so long.” Scott replied.

You and Jana shake your heads at their teasing.

“The paper offers great benefits. That’s really the only reason.” Brooks said while shrugging his shoulders.

“You two love me. Don’t give me this shit.”

The table erupts in laughter and you find yourself smiling for a second night in a row.

 Scott and you opt for more pool time on Sunday. His flight isn’t until six that night, so neither of you are in a hurry.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’m really glad you came out. This was a lot of fun,” you replied.

“It really was. I’ll bring Zach next time.”

“That’d be great,” you said.

“How are you feeling since the breakup?” Scott asked.

“Mostly good. Ethan was a really good guy, but we moved too quickly. He moved too quickly, but I just went along with it. I’m sad it didn’t work out, but I learned what I don’t like.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked.

“Losing myself. While I was still very much me, I caved a lot. Mostly did what he wanted to do. I love being in a relationship and spending time with someone I care about, but I’m also important. My work is important to me. My friends are important to me. I lost a bit of that when I was Ethan.”

Scott offers you a smile. “You’re still very much Sassy to me.”

“Always,” you replied.

 With Scott safely in the air, headed back to L.A., you resume your Christmas in April marathon. You’re phone rings with Chris’ name on the screen. He hasn’t called you in months, so you’re a bit surprised. You hit pause on your movie and hit the call accept button.

“Hi, Chris.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he said.

“Scott’s already on his way home if you are looking for him.”

“Yeah, I know. He called me from the airport. I just wanted to call and talk to you, if that’s alright.” He said.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s completely alright. Dork,” you chuckle out.

“Oh, I’m the dork? I’m not quite sure about that.”

And just like that, the two of you started to build up your friendship like it was the first time around.

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Chapter 7