#I haven’t drawn in a hot second so I hope y’all enjoy this

[thou-babbling-brook]

They like his ass

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze. 

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to. 

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away. 

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best. 

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head. 

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.” 

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.  

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer. 

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak. 

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap. 

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding. 

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying. 

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him. 

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job. 

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck. 

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you’re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again. 

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones. 

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly. 

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?” 

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.” 

[jae-daddy]

Duff (7)

im jaebum au series

one / two / three / four / five / six /  seven / eight / nine masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader  genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO!  plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, Heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception, but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: if ya like send something in or leave a comment! I love reading them! next part is going to be interesting, hope yall liked the bit of spice. not edited, hope y’all enjoy it! <3

“Stop,” Jaebum ordered.

Every nerve in your body told you to disobey and continue to walk out of his office, but your feet stopped. Your back faced him as your eyes settled on the plain dull wall in front of you, save for a painting that wasn’t much interesting.

It wasn’t truly his office yet. Jaebum hadn’t added any personal touches to the cold space in the past month of him acting Director. He remained detached from the office, employees and the job as much as he could.

Except for you, Jaebum always seemed to be looking for a way to get under your skin. Find new ways to bother you, to annoy you. It was almost as if he enjoyed seeing you fume at him with anger. Your face red with fury brought him peace and happiness. It made that easy cocky smirk on his lips grow each time his melting eyes met your raging ones.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

You didn’t turn around instantly. Instead, you took a deep breath in and turned with a vacant expression, “I’m sorry, sir. Was there something you needed?”

Jaebum shifted in the chair, annoyed. Once again, he wasn’t seated in the big boss chair on the other side of the desk. He chose one of the two placed on the other side instead, with papers splayed out in front of him, on the desk.

Your eyes went to the mess and your lips pursed. Your hands itched by your side to sort through the junk and organise everything in a proper fashion. But Jaebum knew what he was doing, he knew exactly where each paper was. He worked like a genius; chaotic and completely self-relied.

You looked back at him to find his lips drawn into a thin line, his brows drawn together as he stared up at you. For the first time, Im Jaebum did not have the cocky smile that normally danced on his lips. His eyes didn’t watch you as if he understood every thought that zoomed through your head.

He looked at you utterly lost, distraught and confused.

“Don’t try to play this game, y/n. Stop that, tell me what’s wrong, why have you been avoiding me.”

He was almost begging at this point, and for the first time in the past week, you smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile, it was cruel and relished his misery. Your tight posture relaxed as you tilted your head holding his troubled gaze as you sang, almost taunting, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I have not been avoiding you, sir.”  

Jaebum rose out of his seat and towered over you in an instant. He gritted, “Stop calling me that.”

“Calling you what, sir?”

Jaebum’s eyes darkened as he took another step towards you. You didn’t move away, you held your ground, your head tilting back to meet his stormy gaze. His jaw ticked as he sneered, “Do you enjoy this? Do you find pleasure in torturing me like this?”

“Torturing you?” You tsked, the smirk on your face growing, hiding the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You turned walking away before spinning on your red-bottom heels, “If someone were to hear, they’d think I was actually hurting you, sir.”

“Stop it!” He spat, the anger leaving him. All Jaebum was left with was desperateness as he continued, “Stop calling me sir, y/n. I’m trying to have a conversation with you as a friend--”

“A friend?” You chuckled, cutting him off. “We are not friends.”

“So we’re back to this again?”

“Yes, we are.” It was your turn to sneer at him as you took a step towards him. All coolness evaded your body and all you felt was red and hot. Anger sparked through every core of your body, your eyes shone with distaste, as you looked down your nose at him, “I will never be friends with a loathsome disgusting dog like you.”

“Dog?” Jaebum snickered at the weak insult, but the embers of the fire began lighting up inside him as he watched your lips draw into a scowl.

“Yes, a dog. A terrible, horrible cheating dog.”

“Is that the best you can do?” Jaebum jeered raising his eyebrows mockingly. “Call me a dog and say nonsense?”

“I am not speaking nonsense, you bastard,” you spat. Jaebum flinched at your words, but you continued, the fire blazing inside you. “I saw you and that woman in your office that day. Don’t think I will forget that easily. I know how disgusting you are.”

“What day--”

“Or do you mean which day-” you cut him off, stepping closer to him. The poison hissing from your tongue, “You have flirted with any woman that you ever crossed path with; at the club, at work! It doesn’t matter to you that you have a girlfriend, and you might think it’s okay, but it is not. I would never do that to my friend. I won’t sit back and hold my tongue-”

“Then why haven’t you done something about it if I’m so bad,” Jaebum cut you off this time. The easy smile returned on his lips, dancing with malice as he looked down at you as if you were a crazy lady talking about stars and the end of the world. “If you can’t differentiate between being friendly with others and flirting, then that’s on you, not on me. It’s not my fault you're an emotionless closed off mumpsimus who doesn’t know that people can simply just be nice to one to another--”

“Yes!” You scoffed up at him. “Because almost fucking a lady on your desk is just being friendly.”

“I was not about to fuck her!”

“Oh yeah?” You nodded, sarcastic.

“I was not cheating. I was not flirting with her.”

“Then what were you doing, Jaebum?” Your eyes were blazing with so much rage you felt as if it would consume you. “Do you hug everyone on your desk? How did Paul like it when you dry-humped him on the desk and called it a friendly hug?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jaebum groaned, “It was just a hug and she slipped! I was helping her get steady!”

“And I just happened to walk in that exact moment. What a crazy coincidence!”

“If you’re so certain, why haven’t you told anyone then?” Jaebum questioned, after a deep breath. “You tell Heather everything, why haven’t you told her this yet?”

“She already knows what I think of you.”

Jaebum tried not to flinch at your words, “But have you told her about what you apparently saw last week in this office?”

Your cheeks painted red, as you tore your eyes away from him. You stared at the wicked desk instead, “No.”

“Why not?” He drawled, as he took a step closer towards you.

Your chest swelled with resentment as you refused to look at him and the victorious smile you knew was on his lips. You bit your tongue before you answered, each word cutting your throat, “I was not sure.”

“What was that?” He crooned, you could hear his smile. You felt the chuckle in his cool breath as it brushed your forehead. When you didn’t reply, Jaebum placed a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes to meet his.

His haunting gaze still shone with anger, but his lips painted the picture of the easy ocean after a stormy night.

You wanted to smack that smile from his lips. You wanted to erase the victory bubbling inside of him. You met his eyes, not looking way. Your mind repeating one thought over and over again.

I hate you.

It was unfair to blame all these emotions on Im Jaebum when it was not all his doing. You knew Jaebum wasn’t a flirt by choice, but by nature. He was like a golden retriever who couldn’t help but spread love wherever he went. And he didn’t just get friendly with any woman around his age, but with old grandmas, mothers, other males and grandfathers too. It was just who he was.

You knew you were being harsh, you knew it. But you couldn’t back down.

You would rather blame it on Jaebum. You would rather pretend that it was all his fault that you hadn’t been smiling, sleeping or eating this past week. You didn’t want to give that asshole this power over you; you didn’t want to admit the power he still had over you.

Jaebum’s eyes searched yours and the storm in them vanished. His eyes held yours, his fingers on your chin holding you in place as he searched through your mind. And just like always, he finally found the answer. You saw the recognition shine in his eyes; he knew this wasn’t about him.

You knew it wasn’t this that you had you so removed from life. But it wasn’t like Jaebum didn’t do anything wrong too. You still didn’t know what had happened between Jaebum and that lady, or more like, what would have happened had you not walked in at that moment.

“I walked in too early, Im Jaebum,” you exhaled, the venom dancing on your tongue as you met his cool gaze. Your eyes burned bright once again in accusation, “If I had walked in a second later, I would have caught you red-handed.”

“Red-handed?” Jaebum repeated, the smile easy on his lips, the raise of his eyebrows graceful, “Red-handed doing what exactly?”

You glared at him, “I would have found you about to fuck her.”

Jaebum chuckled in reply. The burn of his fingers easing on your chin. He opened his eyes, a new kind of darkness in his eyes; his lips smirking with secrecy.

His fingers lingered on your chin, his thumb grazing your lower lip, his eyes falling for a moment. Your heart stopped when you saw him lean in closer, but then he stopped.

His fingers were a whisper against your skin. It lightly traced down your throat, over your faint collarbones and over your shoulders. His fingertips grazed down your back smoothly, his touch burning through the flimsy white shirt you wore. His fingers stopped on your lower back, before both his hands landed on your hips. His fingers spreading over the curve, searing you with its touch.

His hands gently nudged you backwards, making you take a step back. Jaebum’s steps followed you, making you walk backwards until you felt the edge of the dark wood on your lower back.

Jaebum’s eyes never left yours as he eased you onto the desk. Your legs parted effortlessly as Jaebum slipped between them; your skirt bunching up as it rose up your thigh. Jaebum’s hands finally left your body and your chest expanded.

The ghost of his touch burned you with its sudden coldness.

A strong arm reached behind you on the right. His left hand fell on your knees, slowly, dangerously moving up.

You weren’t breathing; you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move under his touch.

You couldn’t move under his heated gaze.

Jaebum’s eyes did not leave yours as he leaned in closer. His dark eyes flickering to your lips, a knowing small smile on his lips as your chest heaved. You gulped nervously as his lips drew closer, so close you could taste his breath on your tongue.

You closed your eyes as you felt him lean in closer. His tortuously slow left hand deliciously moved higher, his fingertips gracing the inside of your thighs.

His lips touched you, barely missing your lips. A small sigh left you, and you felt a smile blossom on his soft lips. Jaebum placed another kiss, lower, and then another. Another soft sigh fell from your lips when his lips kissed your neck; you felt his lips drag upwards towards your ear.

His fingertips dug into your thighs, as he gently blew into your ear. You held your breath to stop the whimper from escaping you. You felt so hot; you were sure if Jaebum's fingers as much as travelled any bit further he would be able to feel your body reacting to him.

You could feel your core tangled and a mess of nerves, and a heartbeat down below, in anticipation.

“I have barely touched you and you’re such a beautiful little mess, love,” Jaebum whispered into your ear. You closed your eyes swallowing the painful truth in his words and the shame climbing over your body. “Trust me, if I ever wanted to fuck someone you wouldn’t have to guess. You would know.”

You believed him. If something more was happening that day, you would have known.

You felt him move away, but you kept your eyes closed. Your breath leaving you shakingly as you tried to regain control over yourself. You could feel him look at you; you felt his gaze burn you as he took you in.

You wondered what he saw. How much could he see?

Could he see your cheeks deep with a blush? Your lips wet with anticipation? Your chest heaving? Your breath shattering? All because of him and his nearness, how much could he see... what did he think of it...

Could he see your mind racing with thoughts of him? Racing with all that could happen next? His lips on yours, your moans filling up the quiet office as he groaned, filling you up, spreading you wide open on his desk.

Could he see how you were trying to control yourself?

You opened your eyes and wished you hadn’t. You would rather see them clouded with rage, even unfiltered lust would be better than the softness you found. The honey brown in his eyes met your gaze with desire, want and longing.

It was disgusting.

It was terrible.

It was horrifying how Im Jaebum could make you feel when he was looking at you like that. As if his hands burned beside him, begging to touch you. As if he would cease to exist if he did not touch you, kiss you, hold you. As if you were all he could ever want in the world, but you were the only thing he could never have.

You would rather take animalistic lust over that.

You tore your eyes away from him. Jaebum took a step back and you hopped off the desk. You straightened your skirt avoiding his face. But Im Jaebum wasn’t looking at you as well, his gaze focused on the floor but his mind somewhere far away.

“I won’t worry Heather with this,” you croaked out. Jaebum nodded absent-mindedly, and you began walking out. You were almost to the door when you stopped. You bit your lip, unsure, but decided to say it anyway, “Don’t take it personally, Jaebum. It’s not you, I’ve just been in a mood and caught up with something else. I- I guess, that’s why you thought I was avoiding you.”

“Oh,” Jaebum replied, softly. You turned around to find him giving you all his attention, “Is there something I can do to help you?”

You shook your head with a small smile, “No.”

The moment you had been dreading finally arrived that afternoon.

“Good evening, Meridian Firm,” you answered, automatically. You hated answering phone calls, you would rather email.

“Hello, I’m calling from Spring Industries-”

You knew. You knew.

“I’m calling on behalf of our CEO Park Jinyoung,” the lady on the other spoke, and you tried to control your breathing. “He would like a meeting with Director Im.”

“I will let Director Im know.”

“Can we pencil a meeting date right now, and you can confirm it later? My boss really wants an answer,” the lady on the side spoke sounding more humane.

You knew what she meant by that too. You knew how he got when he didn't get what he wanted.

“Of course,” you pulled out the calendar planner looking for the next empty date, “How is next week Thursday at five-thirty in the evening?”

“Hmm, let me check,” you heard a few clicks on the other side, and prayed it wouldn’t match. “Oh, perfect! Hope to hear from you soon!”

“Alright, goodbye,” you say before hanging up. You sighed, tired, as you run your fingers through your hair.

You knew this moment was coming, but you hadn't expected it to come so soon. You weren’t sure if you were ready. Your stomach churned at the thought of seeing him again.

“Hey, you alright?”

You looked up to find Im Jaebum standing by your desk with concerned eyes. You nodded, smiling slightly at how adorable he looked worried, “I’m good.”

“I...” he started but trailed off. “Let’s go get dinner.”

You were about to say no when he added, “Heather and Bam are already on their way. And Heather said she wants you there.”

You sighed, exhausted, “Alright.”

“Oh, and uh,” you paused, biting your lips, breathless. “The CEO of Spring Industries wants to meet you next week Thursday at five-thirty, how should I reply?”

“Am I free?” You nodded in reply. Jaebum just shrugged, nonchalant, “Cool, tell them yes.”

You nodded once again, doom already clouding over you.

[moonlightjeno]

ten things and then some | l.j

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: jeno x reader 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞 :: based on the poem from 10 things i hate about you if you haven’t watched it fo yourself a favor and go watch the movie bc it’s a m a z i n g. ty 𝕨𝕔 :: 15.5k this is the longest thing i’ve ever written wow. 𝕒/𝕟 :: y’all jeno fits the concept to this p e r f e c t l y, and no i am not being biased :) and a massive massive thank you to @smoljh​ for helping me and giving me feedback, you’re the sweetest. and ofc to my soulmate girl yk i love you to the moon and back, and i hope you enjoy this piece @mangotexts​ ( truly the best hype woman anyone could ask for ).

everything in bold is part of the poem, from “10 things i hate about you”

I hate the way you talk to me,

Sweetheart. love. angel. The words that spin from his mouth every time you hear him talk to you, made you aggravated. It was a constant stream of words that had begun as a prick of annoyance. Every time, he opened his mouth, looking at you with his dark brown eyes. 

“Earth to y/n” the snapping of fingers disrupts your train of thought, eyes glancing back to the dark-haired boy on the other side of the school grounds, before landing back on your friend. 

“What?” the words slip from your mouth with disinterest, a lack of concern for whatever your friend had been rambling on about for the past five minutes. The small amount of conversation you’d registered was she’d been talking about a party that johnny suh, school alumni, and constant talk around school grounds were throwing as a “welcome to the end of high school”. Though as parties went, you were almost sure that it would encompass school graduates, seniors, and the occasional sophomores and freshmen that would manage to sneak their way in, eyes glittering with excitement as they entered their first high school party. 

“Are you coming?” her words were drawn out as if she’d ask you five times before, she might have, and it was only now that you had finally heard the question. The question slightly baffles you, because everyone in school knew you didn’t go to parties since freshman year. 

“Uh, no. you know what i think of parties, they’re a waste. An excuse for seniors to think they're above everyone else, as they tell off the younger students that they’ve deemed aren’t ‘cool’ or mature enough, while the freshman walks around with some sort of desperate hope in their eyes as if the world will drastically change if they show up at a senior party. Someone should tell them” you say, looking past your friend whose excited smile has dimmed to a small frown, eyes slightly annoyed, something that doesn’t surprise you at this point. It isn’t a secret what you think of parties either, even if you are best friends with the queen of parties herself. You stop yourself before your eyes have a change of drifting to the brown-haired boy with a leather jacket that tends to sit by the foot of the football field, whom you can’t seem to find, probably smoking the thought is bitter and places a scowl on your face before you look back at your friend,  “nothing changes''.

“Just once, one time is all i ask of you” the pleas that come from your friend make you focus on her, her hair is loose ruffled by the light wind that has blown over the course of your conversation. It’s almost enough for you to agree to go to the stupid party, when you see her glance towards mark lee, the boy she’s been crushing on for as long as you’ve known her. It hadn’t surprised you, that she’d fallen for him, when you saw him. The boy who made most girls swoon, but who had somehow managed to beat all the stereotypes of “hot” because mark was also talented, more than you’d like to admit when it came to music, he’d helped you a couple of times when you’d been stuck on a composition, always a smile on his face. so when she glanced towards him, the glittering in her eyes and rose tainted cheeks as mark looked back, flashing a small smile, you couldn’t help but give in. 

“I’m going to regret this,” you say, the words a mix of a grunt and an exasperated sigh, but your friend is almost jumping up and down, giving you a quick hug and promising that you wouldn’t regret it, not at all, you’d have the greatest time before she was turning around a skip in her step. A smile graces your face at your friend’s happiness, and it remains there unfaltering until you hear “hello love”

Brown hair made its way into your view, as jeno’s face presented itself in front of you, a cocky smile grazing his features that made your smile falter and eventually turn into a scowl.

“What” the word isn’t a question, more like a complaint as you try to turn around and head in the opposite direction, away from jeno and his sweet words. But his voice trails behind you only a couple of steps away before he’s next to you leather jacket glaring against the end of the summer sun, and you wonder only for a second how he isn’t passing out from the heat. 

“Oh come on angel, a lil smile wouldn’t kill you” his words are filled with a tone you can only describe as intolerable, making you slightly gag.

“A smile wouldn’t kill me, but i might kill you” you smile at him, a grin adorning your features, “luv” the words that left your mouth are meant to push jeno away and have him leave you alone, but the boy is persistent and though his smirk falters slightly at the glare you give him, the grin is up and running again as he stops in front of you. 

“And then who would you have to glare and fight with luv?” the moment the words leave his mouth he turns away, proud of his line. The dumbass, you think, insults quickly forming in your head and ready to be thrown out towards him but your phone pings, and you thumb it open. The message “see you at the party angel” makes your blood boil slightly, but you can’t hide the way your cheeks slightly turn red and the smile that slowly grazes your face before you make a vulgar gesture to the sweet mouthed boy, and turn away.

As much as you hated to admit, you looked forward to the party only just slightly more than you did five minutes ago, the small nicknames swarming around your head. 

And the way you cut your hair.

The too-loud music and blinding lights that could be heard and seen from multiple blocks away, and you almost stopped in your tracks, ready to turn around and head back home. But a pull from your friend as she squealed in excitement at maybe having a chance with mark managed to keep your feet moving towards the flashing lights. 

Strong alcohol, tequila, or vodka is something you’re hoping they have at the party so that you can attempt to get away from the sex-craved teenagers that are lined up against the walls, pushing against each other. Just walking into the house, and the stench of cigarettes, weed, and sweat floats through the air almost enough to make you gag, as your nose scrunches up at the sight and smell. 

Drinks are set far too far from the entrance of the house, the kitchen seems to be miles away not close enough for your liking until you finally reach it. Johnny, black-haired slicked back, the sunflower tattoo on his forearm a stark contrast to the leather jacket he wears and it makes you smile just slightly at the different personalities the dark-haired boy has.  Yet you can’t deny his loud and extravagant personality as he talks from person to person whether senior or freshman, making drinks, even if some of the spillover the sides, you sit by one of the stools ready to get a mixed drink of whatever the alumni is able to concoct before getting the courage and energy to head back into the party and socialize with people you really have no interest in socializing. 

In the short minute that it takes johnny to get your drink, the lemon drink shot with a strong tequila is set in front of you just as your friend has left you with the only warning being a sharp look, as she smiled to a brown-haired boy that you can only presume to be Mark, by the way, her face flushes, and she takes a swig from the drink in her hand before leaving you, and you yell a sharp “go get em” before gulping down the liquid inside the red solo cup. 

Alcohol you’d forgotten burned down your throat, it’s lingering sharp and bitter taste leaving a tang in your mouth as it traveled down your mouth. You forget that the effect of the drink doesn’t come into effect a little later, where you are jumping up and down on the table, dancing from side to side as the music pumps through your blood and body. You won’t be able to tell that it’s the alcohol that you’d sworn you wouldn’t drink unless surrounded by friends, but most definitely not in a social gathering, that makes you jump from table to table and grab other’s next you as you dance with them. Hair slightly plastered to your face from the sweat, and though you’re dancing your words are slightly fuzzy from the multiple drinks you’d had from random tables you’d pass by.

A sharp tug and pull gets you off the current table and you begin to complain, wanting to continue to let loose to the rhythm of some constant beat song that sounds all too vaguely familiar to your ears, but the arms that are wrapped around you feel oddly warm and comfortable and the protest die slightly on your lips as you turn around to see who’s holding onto you. 

Dark brown hair, almost black frames the boy’s face perfectly and you want to run your fingers through it. Some sense of longing for love and being loved passes through you, and now you’ve realized how drunk you truly are as you push down the emotions of attraction to the boy in front of your face showing only the traces of what would be a smile if he wasn’t so concerned for your safety. 

“y/n?” the boy asks, and you’re still in a light haze of alcohol that buzzes through your skin and blood making everything fuzzy that you can’t quite picture whose face it is in front of you, whose voice that is soft and gentle towards you and sounds so familiar, to which you only manage to nod your head slightly hair falling in front of your eyes as you smile. It’s small, fluttering, and the boy in front of you smiles too, as he repeats your name, and then the words that leave his mouth make him click into place. 

“y/n? Luv? How much have you had?” The word luv, makes you push away from the strong arms that hold you, the classic leather jacket that tends to adorn his body has somehow managed to be wrapped around you, and you realize that you are no longer inside the house with loud music. Instead the music and flashing lights have been replaced by trees and twinkling lights that flash in the dark sky and the distant background of loud music that is too low for your ears to register anything more than a constant drone. Your smile has been replaced by a scowl, and you grunt at the jacket you’re wearing, hating to admit that it’s warm and comforting. You try to speak, the words a slur before you hurl, holding onto your stomach as the content of your lunch and too much alcohol are spilled on the grass floor in front of you. 

The acid from your stomach burns your tongue, a bitter taste seems to linger even as you chug down the water that jeno offers you, a small smile gracing his features. And you blame the alcohol, but you smile back at him, and can’t think that maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought he was. You can’t shake the feeling of his hand wrapped around your waist, another holding up your hair as you hurled, and coughed no mocking grin or satisfactory smirk making their way onto his face. Instead a small smile was present, his dark hair that you finally admitted to yourself, made him look hot, was tousled and messy by the wind and it looked cute. 

You blame the day’s events and the words that were thrown at you at the beginning of the party making you head straight to the intoxicating drinks. You blame the chemicals that are still in your system, as you sit on the grass dragging jeno to sit next to you, hand intertwined with his. The grass that is cool against your touch, making your skin feel less hot, less sticky, and more conscious. You blame the alcohol and everything it changes in your core, for letting you lean your head against jeno’s shoulder, as his arm wraps around your shoulders pulling you in only slightly, scared to scare you away. You most definitely blame the alcohol as the words that fall from your mouth as you hold onto jeno’s calloused hand. 

“I like it” the words are a mumble, whispered into the night air, and it causes jeno to turn just slightly his lips almost touching the crown of your head, “like what?” he whispers back, and you can almost swear a small kiss is placed on the crown of your head. 

           “Luv” 

I hate the way you drive my car.

It seems that the stars want you to hate jeno more than you already do, as he half carries you half drags you to your parked car. The moon shines on the car surfaces mixing in with the dull yellow lights from the evenly spaced streetlights. You wished that you could walk straight, but you still stumble a little, your steps not sturdy until jeno has placed his arm around your waist lifting you up, that you manage to walk to the old vintage car that is parked under one of the dimmed out streetlights. 

The sequence of opening the door and you get inside the car occurs in a slight blur, but you find yourself on the passenger seat, head resting against the cool window that makes you jump slightly from the contact. It isn’t until you turn your head as the engine roars to life underneath you that you see jeno by the wheel, adjusting the rear view mirrors to his height and gripping the steering wheel. 

Time seemed to stop as you lay in the grass, head tucked in between jeno’s shoulder and his head. It stopped when the last words that had left your mouth had made jeno’s smile widen and his eyes match the moon that shone brightly above the two of you. The droning music has stopped, flashing lights no longer as constant as they were when you had first dragged jeno into the cool grass. In that position did you two lay for hours, a comfortable understanding and silence settling between the two of you until your breaths became constant and your eyes had begun to droop threatening to close that jeno shook you lightly. The only response he got was a small humm that you were still awake, as he pulled you up and started to make your way to the car. Something that seemed almost impossible as jeno had absolutely no idea where the fuck your car was and you didn’t seem to quite remember in your hald drunken half sober very much about to fall asleep state.

Jeno could have almost jumped from joy when he’d seen your eyes brighten up at the sight of a beat-up old red mustang, and you pointed towards it. The moment he had opened the passenger door you had climbed inside curling up next to the door like a cat, and he couldn’t help but think that you were adorable, even when you snapped at him for taking your keys. It was a different side of you that he’d never seen, and he doubted many people did see. One where you weren’t putting on a sort of facade of hating everything around you, but instead you let your eyes relax holding a sort of brightness and glow jeno hadn’t seen before but now couldn’t stop himself from looking at. Stop, jeno scolded himself as he turned to look at the road, car roaring to life.  

“Nu-uh” you grunted at seeing jeno aggressively change gears, “stop being so aggressive,” you say as you sit up. The smile that adorned jeno’s face turns into a grin, as he continues to aggressively switch gears as he turns the corner, and you regret ever thinking he was kind. 

“My car doesn’t deserve this” you grunt out, and jeno chuckles looking at you from the side, and he loosens his grip slightly on the gear stick. 

“You mean my presence? I’m gonna have to agree, sweetheart” you’re not sure if it’s the light trace of chemicals that still surround your brain, or if you’ve really wanted to do this for a while but you don’t stop your fist as it punches jeno in the arm. 

“The fuck” leaves jeno’s lips, as he rubs his arm where you’d hit him and you do a little dance on your seat, “don’t hurt my car dumbass” is your only answer before you continue to laugh at the face of confusion and mocked hurt that jeno fakes. 

Your laugh rings around the car, and echoes through the street, as the windows at some point where rolled down. The way jeno looks confused makes you laugh harder, and he turns just slightly, his eyes narrow and eyebrows slightly scrunches, and he looks like a confused dog. Alcohol might have made you hit him, but you can’t fathom why you would be laughing at jeno, no not at him but with him as his laugh has joined yours as he drives the car down the street. The ridiculousness of the night catches up with, making you hold onto your stomach as jeno parks into your driveway smile never faltering. 

From the way, both of your eyes shine from joy and amusement one could almost swear that the two of you were friends, almost lovers by the way jeno looked at you. But no one was looking at two in the morning, and no one can be there to tell you that the way you two look at each other is in a new way. No gazes filled with mocked sympathy or non-wanted flirtatious remarks, instead, you two seem to gaze into each other’s eyes for what seems too long if it weren’t that neither of you seemed to mind. 

And because you are still slightly tipsy, and the stars and moon make jeno look like some sort of angel as his hair is illuminated by a white light, that lights up his face making his eyes a warmer brown that they usually are that you think about opening up yourself to him. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think, maybe just maybe the nicknames he gives you make you feel a flutter because he could be someone to trust. 

Possibilities for the maybes and wants to fill your head, and you don’t realize your eyes have fluttered shut and you are leaning in only slightly a sway towards where jeno is until you feel his hand on your shoulder stopping you, a pitiful gaze grazes his features and you are almost sure you want to go crawl in a hole. Instead, you push him back, opening the car door and slamming it behind you, chin held up as you walk back towards your house, the water in your eyes threatening to spill. But you manage to make it, as you walk into your house, and slam the door behind you the words “maybe not now” replaying in your head, because why the fuck would he actually like you. 

You don’t notice when you go to sleep music blasting from your headphones that you’ve wrapped yourself in the leather jacket that smells slightly of cat and boy, the lingering stench of cigarettes and fire from the jacket given to you by the boy who had managed to hold your heart for only a second. 

 I hate it when you stare. 

              in and out. Your breaths match the classes metronome, a constant beat to keep your breaths even and focused on whatever the teacher is saying, which happens to be the importance of pentatonic scales when composing a new song. He drones on about the way modern pop music isn’t really music and that the same fours chords and rhythmic patterns are used over and over again with a slight variety to them. You would have looked around the class, taking in the beautiful instruments that are set on display around the class, most of them hanging on hooks and nicks that cause the brass instruments to gleam in the classroom light. Admiring the way the guitars were filed neatly, basses next to them and the small ukuleles that the school's “hipsters” would pretend to play every so often at the talent shows. Some of the guitars and ukuleles were decorated by the art classes, the flowers blooming from one end to the other making it impossible to tell the difference between where the original brandished wood begins and ends. It almost seems at times like the flowers in full bloom are consuming the wood, taking away its air and nutrients that then allow the students to play melodica tunes without the professor yelling at them to tune their instruments. You would be admiring the piano that lay at the front of the class where your professor is currently pacing back and forth, his hands waving in grandiose gestures that make you cough an attempt to hide the rising laughter in your throat. The piano that you’d heard most of the students in the class play and almost lull everyone to tears or sleep depending on who it was, as the keys would rise and fall with each stroke. 

Admire. Stare at the instrument you longed to strum and let out the bundle of emotions that were piled up in your stomach, taught and knotted together waiting to be untang;ed by the strum and finger pattern of the acoustic guitar. That’s what you would be doing if you weren’t slightly interested in the way that your professor was taking down and criticizing modern day music which you could only nod your head too, agreeing with most of his points. The rest of your class seemed to be disgusted, their faces shriveling and eyes rolling to the back of their heads. 

“Well yeah, music today doesn’t, well shouldn’t really constitute for “real” music. It shouldn’t be dictated by a constant talk of sex and the drugs, what about the power in music? The way that it is in itself a universal language?” you speak out of turn, your arm coming down slightly aching from having to hold it up for so long with no acknowledgment. The moment you speak you can almost feel the class sigh and grunt, their heads dropping slightly. 

“Now miss y/n” his voice is grainy and unpleasant, but you nod, eyes defiant at whatever critique will come your way even if you just agreed with your professors point of view, “did i ask for your opinion on the universal language and power it has on your feelings” 

“Well no but-”

            “No buts” you want to roll your eyes and flip him off, and decide to do both as you sigh, “not like you’d understand what that is” you mumble loud enough for your the boy at your right to hear you and his mouth falls slightly open, and you roll your eyes flipping him off as he turns around facing the scribbled blackboard.  

You can feel eyes staring at you, analyzing the way you bite onto the top of your pen or how you doodle across the margin of your paper, random notes and lyrics that pop into your head as your professor drones on and on about the theory of music. It’s a pity you think that it’s those eyes that make you want to stand up and hit someone, those eyes that seem to want to dig a whole through your brain are what cause the feeling of uneasiness in your stomach every-time you turn around. 

in and out. The metronome beeps constant again, and you loosen the grip on your pencil. Turning around slowly before locking gaze with jeno, who seems startled, you turned around and looked at him in the first place. Replaced is the mocking grin by a sheepish smile, and you can almost swear there’s a speck of guilt in his brown eyes as he looks at you with a small pleading look until you flip him off, mouthing the words “fuck you” into the air. But he seems to register them as he breaks the contact, eyes darkening and head bowing down just slightly, making a small smile graces your features. 

Tick tick tick - ring. The bell goes off and you can’t seem to get up and out of your seat quick enough, following pursuit of the other students that have already packed and are counting down the seconds until class is over. You’re almost at the door, fingers stretching to reach the handle when you feel a light tap on your shoulder, a brush of your hair to the side, as you swirl around. You bite down the curse that is about to slip through your lips as your professor stands in front of you an amused smile on his face as he tells you that even though you’re an exemplary student you should tone down on the whole “power to the people” role you hold and you have to stop yourself from turning around and walking away. “Uh sure…” you are ready to leave, feet beginning to turn but your professor isn’t done and he holds you back telling you about the inconveniences of being a teacher at this day and age and you wonder what the man had wanted to be if not a teacher but the question and pity are quickly erased when he tells you that you about the end of the year assignment, “a project of sorts” he drawls, one hand stroking the light beard that sticks in odd patchy places around his face. “that will test what you’ve learned this year” you say nothing, waiting for what the punch the goal of the assignment is, “a song based off shakespeare’s sonnets” 

You don’t have time to clap and jump from joy at the assignment and thank your professor before the fire alarm goes off and you are walking towards the football field. You don’t have the time to register the way people are looking at you, the way jeno is staring at you with a goofy smile and hopeful eyes as the intro chords play to i.f.l.y  by bazzi and he gazes towards the crows that has gathered around him, eyes finding yours. 

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

The clunk of boots against the aluminium causes the bleachers to shake slightly, a vibration of clashing echoing through the field as it mixes in with jeno’s voice. The dark haired boy that scares the school away on most days bounces along from one side of the bleachers to the other. 

You can feel the warmth spread to your cheeks, the heat spreading through your body and you shake your head slightly at whatever is going because you truly aren’t quite sure. The only thing you know is that it seems to be the whole school’s eyes are darting from you to jeno, who can’t seem to take his eyes off even as he jumps from one row of bleachers to the next the microphone on his hand a he raps along to the lyrics to the song. Lyrics that sound as familiar as a midnight drive and cooling moonlit fields. 

*

The way he conveys the words and raps is not something you hadn’t heard before, you’d heard him speak his poems to you that late night in the midst of summer heat when you had been in a need of escape from the world that surrounded you. The summer heat had been too much, too suffocating that in a whim you’d driven to the highest point in the city. City skyline had been laid before you, the hues of the city changing as the sun slowly dipped itself over the buildings, and it seemed to want to disappear like you did. Slowly, leaving a mark in the world as it reached past the buildings and water that lay far beyond the city, stretching it’s red flames that would slowly flicker and turn into different hues of pink and purple. It was mesmerizing, a way to get away as the sun went down and the moon shone brighter than the city lights, no amount of light pollution that littered the air enough to you were in your own world. Your mind travelled to that safe and peaceful place that would only come out when you were surrounded by the twinkle of stars that seemed to flicker hope, while the moon remained a constant reminder of the light in the darkness. That is until the crunch of leaves behind you, a sign of the coming autumn disturbed you from your silent peace.

Moonlight shone on black boots, the combat boots seemed to dull the moonlight, taking away all it’s light by absorbing it as it crunched the leaves underneath them and stopped in front of you. Eyes landed on a hooded figure, their black hoodie being slightly too big, as it drooped over their frame, reaching slightly past their hip, where you could see the tears in the boys jeans, and you hated to admit that the outfit wasn’t bad. The boy’s face wasn’t visible from the shadows caused by the moonlight, but it wasn’t that it mattered as you went back to looking at the city below you, waiting for the boy in front of you to sit down next to you. It would have normally bothered you to be disturbed in what you had claimed to be your “spot” but maybe it was the way the boy held his head down, or the way the stars shone and illuminated portions of his face, maybe it was just that there was a mutual understanding between the two people that had seeked comfort in the middle of the night underneath the stars. For whatever the reason, you stayed next to each other not touching, not leaning against each other but there was a sense of comfort by each other’s presence and a mutual knowledge of what each wanted. The silence was one of comfort, a blanket that seemed to surround the field that two of you sat in, and when the boy with the worn out combat boots began to speak, a light melody and rhythm to his words all you could do was nod along and enjoy the melodic and soothing sound of his voice. His words shocked you, reaching somewhere inside of you that seemed to be dormant for a long long time. 

“Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing.  But when the stars shine, and the sun goes, Summer becomes a lil less lonely Little less wasted Because when i'm with you  Time’s gonna stop” 

You couldn’t help but feel drawn to the warm voice that rapped next to, as he talked about lost time and love that seems to be a long lasting one that makes you feel like you’re gonna burst from everything that you feel for them only for them to leave in a quick second. And though you don’t know the boy next to you, you don't know his story, you don’t know why he decided on this very day much like you too climb to the top of the hill and admire the busy world from afar, you know the melody. The song that follows his heart, it’s something out of a movie you think, the way the two of you met, lost souls finding themselves by watching everything around them fade into the dark. You don’t know each other but you do, you know the way his song goes and it’s an understanding beyond words beyond actions as the two of you sit next to each other, hours passed midnight a boy with combat boots that crunch through leaves and a voice with thoughts that seem to connect to everything around you, and you. A lost soul with music in heart, that sways and calms down in the brightening moon of the night, as you give each other mutual company in a field of moonlit flowers, and blinking concrete. 

*

Jeno has made his way down the bleachers, his cheeks are red and you can’t help but feel amused and honored. Because as much as he annoys you and makes you want to hit something you can’t deny the way your heart flutters when he smiles at you as he is doing right now, steps bringing you closer and closer to you, his warned out combat boots make you laugh because you’d never seen him wear anything else. You can feel the anger fade away from the week, anger at him for embarrassing you, anger for not feeling loved like you wanted to be loved, but there was a sort of bond that was formed when the school's resident bad boy decides to sing a love song to someone he’s hurt and cares for. There’s something vulnerable by the way he looks at you, a light in his eyes and embarrassment and all of a sudden he’s in front of you. Faces only centimeters away, his breaths fanning your face slightly, their heavy and uneven but he’s smiling tune slightly off-key as he sings the last verse. 

“So I guess what i'm saying” the mic is lowered, and the space between the two becomes your own world. No longer are aware of the hundreds of teenagers surrounding you, some of the whistling others video taping. 

“I guess what i'm saying” you hum back, smiles adorning both of your faces, 

“I fucking love you”

And the way you read my mind.

It seemed as if the world had suddenly shifted. No longer where you are grounded on earth, goals set to go to the other side of the world away from your family, instead you feel alleviated. Where the ground used to be now there was air, a lightness to your movements and words that weren’t there before. It isn’t that the world suddenly changed, the clouds didn’t suddenly become more bright, the world didn’t suddenly become a bright ball of colors and sunshine. 

Falling for someone was based upon the little moments spent together. The way the world seemed to feel a little less heavy, a little less lonely when brown eyes would meet yours, greeting you with a lopsided smile. You had read in books that falling was like falling asleep, slowly and then so quickly that you didn’t even notice the way your heart would take skips when hand touched hand, calloused fingers from constant strumming of a guitar, grazing yours. They say it’s supposed to be too fast for you to notice, as if you were in a dream state that you had fallen into and slowly when your heart is shattered or turned over do you wake up from the dream-like state wishing you had stayed in it. In your opinion falling was neither of those, and it was both. 

Falling was being dragged out of an arena, filled with a whole school student body, where laughter trailed behind you as the boy with worn out combat boots took you to the place you first met. It was the way his eyes would light up their dark brown becoming a lighter color, almost matching his honey colored hair when the sun would hit him from behind, when he looked at you while you talked about the project you were working on. Falling seemed to be the way that the first sentences after the boy sang bazzi’s confession song was a banter over why the song was chosen, you two debating which of his songs was better, an ongoing debate whether smile or i.f.l.y was a better show of emotion. The argument lasted the whole car ride, you drove and it hadn’t taken much convincing after you threatened to keep his leather jacket, that you had shoved back at him only previously that morning. It was only a matter of seconds after that conversation, that jeno pride smile on his face opened the passenger's seat to the beat up mustang and let you slightly, well more like lecture him on how to be gentle on the old car. If jeno would have been tested on the way that your hands would flit back and forth, moving from side to side and up and down making grand gestures and soft ones in order to justify and further prove your point, jeno was sure he would ace the test. But if it came to what you were talking about, how he shouldn’t force the car to change gears or how one button should be pressed before the other he would have passed, he loved hearing you talk passionately about anything and as much as he loved to get on your nerves to see you get flustered cheeks growing slightly red, but would have failed on purpose just for you to smack him in the arm. The punch, which he would never admit kinda hurt the first time you’d hit him what seemed like ages ago, but was really only a season ago, had softened and felt now more like a “you’re stupid but i don’t mind it”, it made him smile. Banter that flitted back and forth between the two of you, constant little arguments that weren’t truly arguments but more of a facade at the emotions and hidden feelings that grew between the two of you. 

The coming winter air was sharp against your ungloved hand, making you shake it up and down, which only caused jeno to look at you with a confused look. 

“You know luv” the nickname no longer made your blood boil, and you’d finally admitted to yourself that it made you feel warm, “there are pockets for a reason” he put his own hands in the stitched pockets of his leather jacket for emphasis, and you huffed. 

“And then how would i be able to carry this?” you lifted your hand, the what had been hot chocolate was now cold all thanks to the new barista at the cafe, jungwoo you think his name was. Your fingers that had seeped up all the warmth they could get from the previously steaming cup of hot chocolate were now pink at the ends, the cold biting into them, and you slightly shook from the cold air you hadn’t been ready for these type of temperature when jeno had sent you a message this morning, the contact “soft bad boy” appearing repeatedly in your phone, with the vague instructions to get ready to go out in the span of fifteen minutes, he’s been by your door in fifteen minutes leading you to your car where he opened the driver's seat for you as he headed into the passenger. It had taken you arriving at the snow covered school to realize where jeno was taking you, and when you had realized it was the school protests were coming. Questions such as “jeno? It’s winter break, why the fuck are we in school?” and “fuck it’s cold”, or jeno’s favorite which you were almost sure he would forever tease you about, “my hands weren’t made for this” you’d been talking about the numbing of feeling in your thumbs when you had been holding the chocolate, keys, phone and wallet in your hands because your jeans had been made without proper pockets. Fuck the patriarchy you hat thought. Jeno has heard the whole situation out of context, and has made it his life goal to tease you on and on about your small hands. It was torture. 

“You could ask for help?” his little bow almost made you laugh, but you rolled your eyes pride getting in front of his help

“And hear you brag about how you don’t feel the cold” you sigh, changing the drink from one hand to the next letting the pocket in your hoodie heat up your hand slightly, “no thank you”. The next thing you know though, is jeno’s jacket is placed around your shoulders, their warmth heating up your bones, and his hands are wrapped around yours, “no, i’d just do this” his voice is next to you, breath stirring the hairs at your ears, warmth sweeps through your body, by the contact his skin makes with yours, and for a second you want to turn around and kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to kiss his lips that seem so soft, want to know what it feels like to wrap your arms around his neck while you kiss him, and play with the black strands of hair at the back of his neck. The feeling doesn’t leave as much as you try to push it away, as jeno holds your hands and drags you towards the school gate, and into the music room.

Falling is about the invisible things. Falling is noticing the way he can read your mind like no one else can, falling is making dumb jokes at each other smiles on both of your faces, it is the way you seem to have conversations about what you want from the world at two am and still poke fun at each other in a passing by through school. Falling you think you finally understand, isn’t singing i.f.l.y by bazzi in front of the whole student body because you don’t want someone to be mad at you, no. falling is the way from summer to fall to winter you get to know each other, until your hearts seem to be in-sync with each other, as jeno who fiddles with the rings on his fingers tells you to sit down on a chair in the music room. It is the way he picks up the guitar your breath catches on everytime you see it, the flowers swallowing and making the wood more vibrant than it was, and looks at you in the eyes. Falling is how his hands tremble slightly when he begins to strum the guitar, and his husky voice fills the empty room, as he sings about the way you make him feel less alone, and part of the universe.

But there’s a thing about falling, there’s the way that you can feel your eyes tear up when he finishes a goofy smile plastered on his face, the last g chord ringing throughout the room and into the hallways. When you fall, you can never tell when the bottom hits, you can never be prepared for the way the ground lurches before you, a slap in the face, right as you let go of the moon boy in front of you breaths still a little uneven from the shared kiss, which made a star fall seem small. Once that rock bottom is hit, the world falls back into place and you aren’t held at freefall, when you hear the “click” and whoops and yells from the hallway and you try to ignore the invasion trying to take in the boy in front of you, until your phone dings and then so does his. A new text message from an unknown contact, with a photo image attached,

“Turns out the bad boy took the bet after all, and y/n isn’t as cold hearted as they seem”

I hate you so much it makes me sick;

Crashing, falling and burning. Emotions that seem to curse through you days, a weeks later after the text is sent, the one that follows is worse. 

“Turns out, jeno was being paid all along to make cold-hearted y/n to fall for him. If you don't trust us, ask him” you knew the message was a taunt, a test to see if you would break but you’d plummeted down down down, and the way jeno’s eyes had shuttered and the light was no longer the way gave you the answer you wanted. 

A breaking point is what they call you’ve heard when one can no longer hold in the anger or sadness or any sort of emotion that seems to be too much. The breaking point that causes one to lose control over their actions, or thoughts because things you thought to be true, are flipped on their side, and the worst part is you wanted yourself not fall for the boy with the easy smile that shone like the moon, and sweet words that made your blood boil and melt all at once. 

Sick, that’s how you felt when you pushed him away, leather jacket dropping with a heavy thud onto the wooden floor. A twisting and turning of emotions rammed through you, anger coming out strong as you shoved him away again before walking out of the room, leaving jeno mouth wide open as if he’d wanted to say something, hands clenching and unclenching as if he’d grabbed onto to you or hadn’t let you check your phone it would change the world worked. The light that had shone in his eyes left, it seemed to be squashed out by the water that threatened to escape because it was true, he had been paid. It isn’t something that made him particularly, it wasn’t that he wasn’t intrigued by you, from the night you two first met all those months ago under the moonlight. 

Payment, green paper that would be slipped into his hand by haechan, a fellow senior he barely knew apart from the school’s biggest flirt accompanied by na jaemin, he did wonder at times how they weren’t at each other’s throats most of the time, but substantially he truly didn’t care. It didn’t matter to him the more he got to know you, the more he held your hand and felt the way his heart would swell and at times skip a beat or two, maybe even three if you looked at him with light in your eyes, laughter ringing in his ears from a joke he had said. 

The first time he’d been offered the paper, fifty bucks to see if the cold hearted bitch that everyone seemed to fear was capable of giving her heart to someone, he had denied because as much as the world thought of him as a cold hearted human being he truly just didn’t want to be bothered or be torn apart from his music and dance.  The second time haechan offered, he accepted on a whim. There had been a sort of argument in music class, you leading the conversation against something he couldn’t quite remember but he remembered you taking down student after student, a defiant look in your eyes as you gave point after point on what you believed was right. He had accepted, because seeing you standing on top of your chair, passion driving you away from the textbook and to speak clearly voice ringing through the room, made him wonder if it was even possible and if he gave up with what he thought was to be your overly cold demour then at least he's earned some money and the freshman that had walked up to him that morning telling him about the plan they’d set up would work. The plan chenle, a boy who was taller than him, but a freshman nonetheless broke it down in simple steps, it was entertaining to say the least, the way he discussed how he would get his new found jisung to go out with your sister, but that would only be possible if you would date. If he wanted to lie to himself, he would say that he accepted the deal because he wanted to help the kids out, but he was never one to not follow the truth. But now, his hands feel cold and empty, lips still feeling the ghost of yours against his, and he remembers a quote he read not long ago on the story of how the sun died everyday in order to let the moon live at night. 

Jeno is sure that he should be the sun that should die, not because the sun was where the world gravitated towards but because you were the moon. The moon that seemed to hold him together and stand by him even after the lies that are spun about his background at school so when you walk out the door, and he sees the tear’s shining beneath the classroom lights he knows he’s lost. If only you knew that he had stopped taking any sort of money the moment he caught feelings, if you only knew the money that he’d earned had gone to help his fostered cats that hung out by his house every now and then. But even if you did now it didn’t make him any better than Haechan who had sent out the text message, informing the world about the stupidities and decisions he made and had regretted two weeks later when you had scolded him about how to drive your car. 

Sick. From your stomach to your head a loud and never ending thump went on and on like the metronome in the music room all those weeks ago. The headache seemed mocking of your developed feelings for jeno, and you could feel your heart twist into itself, as you went over the events of the last few months. What was real, what was done as an act, you didn;t know but you hated it. You hated the way he made you feel, hated the way one text one yes or luv had led you into this snowball and fall that had hit harder than you’d ever wanted it. You hated him so much, it made you sick. 

It even makes me rhyme.

Melodies follow structured patterns, like the rhythm to a song and the lyrics that accompany it, never missing a beat a simple dun dun dun that tends to lead people into a dance like trance. Yet that was the problem with melodies, it was the way that they held onto certain chords, following the same stroke of keys the same vocal riff or bass slap that would drive you insane but would also drive modern days love songs whether they dealt with the infatuation that was love or the consequences of that love which lead to the inevitable heartbreak all followed the same sort of patterns and lines. 

Rhyming, that’s what you did as you recited the end of the year Shakespeare inspired song. A mixture of words with similar sounding words with the same syllables, like car and stare or hate and fate a juxtaposition between the two. Rhymes where everything you tended to avoid, the stereotypical and overused notes digging into your brain, playing and replaying over and over but you didn’t care anymore, as you recited the scribbled lines on the old piece of notebook paper. Some of the yellow had faded from the drops of tears that had dropped weeks ago, as your mind thought of jeno, his smile no longer the same comfort it held when he drove you out to the beach and led you late at night to admire the stars and watch the sunset. Some of the blue ink bleeding through, making smudges across the paper you were to run in, the doodles that had been scratched and re-drawn only to be scratched and drawn in different shapes the notes written down almost everywhere except in the five bar staff that was supposed to hold the notes. 

The shaky breath you let out helps you calm down as you look out into the pinned up pictures of the bedroom wall and the view that gives out to the dying sun set out in the horizon making space for the ever present and shining moon in the blue now purple and lilac sky. Hands grip at the paper, making it crinkle slightly at the force being used, and you read halfway through the lines you can’t fully get through before tears begin to spring up at your eyes. 

I hate it, i hate the way you’re always right.  I hate it when you lie. 

The words feel raw, and posion, vile seems to rise up at your throat the further you go down, and thought the tears don’t fall heavily they steam. A dashing race down your cheeks and back into the yellow notebook paper, as if they were being recycled. The words on the page breaking you, the emotions a sway of everything they say you aren’t, written by you to the boy who shared his heart and then stole it taking it far far away. Salty water drops onto the paper, until they dry up and then they fall again the next time you read them, and you read them and fix them and read them again rhymes embedded into your brain until the tears no longer fall and the paper is no longer in crinkles. 

I hate it when you make me laugh,

The memory flits back to you when you are met with brown eyes on the first day back from winter break. The air is no longer sharp and threatening to cut into you, but nevertheless you wear your sweater, hoodie slightly up, headphones popped into both ears. You didn't realize the figure in front of you, until you’d bumped into the halfway through a new invented dance move you had decided to create as you bopped and moved to the music that surged through your headphones. The toppling into one another was fast, rushed almost as you collided against each other, a stutter back from both of you before you saw who exactly you had crashed into. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, you should have realized who the boy was from the worn out combat boots that had been dyed black again, and the leather jacket that had a couple of new patches adorning it’s sleeves. 

“Sorry” jeno murmurs, but you don’t hear music still flooding in, and you are too focused on the way his eyes shift from your face to your hoodie, and then back to your face not being able to look straight at you, it causes you to scoff. Of course he was able go behind my back, get paid to play with me, and when he gets caught he can’t even look me in the eye, the thoughts are slightly disappointing but not surprising - boys you had learned tended to follow patterns. It isn’t until jeno shifts his focus entirely from you, brown eyes darkening that you are intrigued by the change emotion, guilt and a sort of plead to apologize is wiped from his face and you soon realize the purple haired boy, who couldn’t help himself from laughing at your situation, calling more students to him that had set jeno off. 

“If it isn’t the schools biggest joke” haechan’s voice is mocking, and you truly don’t know why the rest of the student body is laughing with him, when there isn’t anything humorous, sadly this is what you expect from the school by this point, it happened in ninth grade there was nothing to say it wouldn’t happen again. You think about ignoring his comments, there truly was no use getting involved, haechan just wanted a reaction, that is until he flaunted his money around, the constant taunt of how you had been manipulated thanks to the douchebag in front of you not leaving your mind for a second and you’d had enough. Haechan or his group of friends couldn’t have stopped you even if they tried, as you walked up to him, hood down, the rings on your fingers shining in the morning sun, as you punched him. 

“Bitch!” his voice broke as the word escaped his lips, blood beginning to swell on the side of his face, “i have a photoshoot tomorrow” you punched again in response, this time his lip was cut, and you snickered. 

“Hmmmm” you hummed looking at the boy’s eyes, they held anger and a hint of mist that threatened to escape and not being the schools ‘perfect’ boy, “guess they’ll have to find someone else, you know someone that’s actually, how do i say this in the nicest way possible” placing a hand on your chin you pretend to think about it before a grin spreads on your face, “nevermind there isn’t a nice way because you don’t deserve shit. rot in hell fucker” the last word is almost a yell as you’ve turned around and have walked away from the scene, a shit eating grin on your face, at the look of defeat Haechan held. 

It isn’t the way Haechan looks at you with disgust, no that gives you some sense of pride by taking him on, it’s the way jeno’s eyes are filled with pride and warmth. A plea to hear him out at least just once, and as much as you try to deny it his eyes take you back to hot chocolates on random days, snowball fights late at night and random drives through the city to calm you down, music blasted through the stereo of your old car. Memories of him being next to you, arms around yours holding onto you as if you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Memories that as much as you wished wouldn’t flood up every time you saw him did and though you kept telling yourself that it was just an act, you can’t help but think that maybe just maybe not all of it was an act. The hope you hold close to your heart, is what leads you to be stuck back in the place that the mess started, stuck inside the music room yet again, jeno hand centimeters away from yours which just gets you to sit far far away from him. 

“So…” he starts, fiddling with the bracelets that adorn his wrists.

“So…you gonna say something or can i go because i have class to attend to” the words come out harsh, as your annoyance slightly rises, mixed in with being emotionally exhausted you really weren’t here to sit around the boy who had played with you. 

“The cafeteira is having french fries today” the second the words leave jeno’s lips he regrets them, because how stupid is he to start an apology by talking about food, when he looks at you he sees you laughing. Laughing so hard that he manages to walk closer to you so that you are only a couple of feet away from each other, but it isn’t a laugh that fills up the room. Your laugh is dry and humourless, empty and broken, it reminds him of the way one laughs when they have nothing to lose and have given up all hope.

“You know” you start, willing the tears to not fall, your voice to not break because just being in the room with him feels like too much, like one wrong step and the glue that has tapped your heart back together might diffuse into thin air, “for a second, a short second i thought you were gonna say something meaningful” the words are like poison, as you spit them out wanting them to strike and hurt the black haired boy with the perfectly chiseled face to hurt as much as you do, as you begin to head out of the room, the tears threatening to spill again. You’re about to reach the door before you hear your name being called, and you wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the desperation that was laced with his words. If it weren’t for the words that followed your name, “Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing” the lyrics, the way they roll off his tongue as if he’s heard them a million times catch your breath and make you turn around. 

“Stop” you hold your hand out in emphasis, trying to calm your beating heart down, trying to stop the idea that this boy, the one that held your heart and broke it is the same boy that made you feel at peace in a day of chaos, on a midsummer night. But he tries again to talk, a small smile on the ghost of his lips and you have the urge to laugh and smile at him. 

“Just stop” you almost plead, and jeno takes a deep breath, waiting for you to continue, “stop because dam you have no right to sing that. You had no right, no right at all to make me laugh like no one else that day and day’s after, you had no right”  

Even worse when you make me cry.

Jeno has never been one to convey emotions with words. It was never, his forte as people call it, but in the music room that felt stuffed and almost suffocating he reached for words. Any word that might be sufficient, no, not sufficient, words that would convey his truth. Somehow, some way to get rid of that look of disgust, anger and defeat in your eyes that made his heart ache. He can feel you pull farther and farther away even if you are only a couple of feet away from, a couple of inches until if he held his arm out he could catch your hand in his. There was some part of him that thought the moment you two shared what seemed to be years ago, would help, would stop your eyes from shining every-time a light would hit them, the tears he knew you were holding back, because you weren’t one to cry in front of others threatening to spill.  In response, he could feel his heart ache for longer, his hands clam up, eyes look at yours pleadingly. 

“I know” his voice is defeated, almost as broken as you feel and the way it still manages to pull at your heart makes you look up at him, willing if only for one second, or to prove yourself that you can listen to him. The pause seems to make the room feel slightly more bearable, less stuffy, a little less suffocating, because two words are more than just an acknowledgement at the past but also at the present and the recent fuck ups. You hear more than see jeno take another shaky breath before he opens his mouth, closes it and opens again, a hand squeezing his eyes shut before he begins. 

“I know” the words are repeated again, and you aren’t sure what to make of them but he isn’t done, “i fucked up” you scoff, and jeno has a faint smile, “i know that anything that i say will seriously not make up for anything i did because no one in there right mind would ever accept to what i did. No one who knows you, would ever even consider agreeing to being paid to approach you. No one, because being around you, getting to know you is a gift itself. And yes i did agree at the beginning, it’s a long story” the words become clustered, a mumble and you want to leave again, because they feel like an excuse, 

“A long story, that still ended with you winning right?” the words snap from you before you stop them, and jeno is left wordless for a second before his eyes focus in again, mind running at a million, “yes?”

“No. no, i mean no” the sound that escapes from his lips confuses you, it’s a grunt and a sigh but he looks exhausted, “this isn’t going well”

“You think?” The question is more of a fact but that doesn’t stop jeno’s lips twitching slightly upwards, and you're mirroring his. Banter is good? I guess jeno thinks. 

“What i mean” he starts again for the uptenth time, “is that the moment i saw you smile, the moment i got to know you, not the cold exterior you present the moment you laughed at something stupid i said, because for some odd reason you seem to find my jokes funny when no one else does. The moment you... i saw you, eyes dazed as they looked at the sky i knew that the whole thing was stupid. And i stopped it, i promised i stopped taking money from haechan the second i knew you because you didn’t deserve that. Does that make me any less of a shitty person? No it really doesn’t” he stops for a second, catching his breath and you're trying your best to not let the tears drop to not scream or yell or hit him over and over again, but he makes it so hard. So fucking hard when his voice and eyes seem to convey everything you need to hear, everything you want to hear, but then the word money is said and you remember what he did and you can feel yourself recoil back, but not before a silent tear slips. 

“It doesn’t make me a better person if i had stopped the moment i had accepted the deal because I considered it. But y/n the way I feel about you, the way you manage to center me and be the single thing that keeps me afloat in this hell hole. The way that being next you whether it’s holding your hand that tends to be cold because you hate wearing gloves in winter and rather let them freeze'' another smile, and another tear slips making its way down your cheek, “can make me so happy and completely infatuated to the point i don’t know what to do with myself. It is the way I can feel your body next to mine hours after you’ve gone home from one of our random late night drives, or the way you steal my jacket and then i can feel you with me even when you are in class. It’s the way the stars and moon seemed to align that summer day, when we were both lost and found each other in the same lyrics, the same words and melody that sang to us. So yes, i was so stupid, so dam stupid for ever thinking i could be anything other than a stranger to you, and accepting that. But I can feel the way my heart seems to forget how to beat, anytime you look at me, and you smile, and unlike what the world wants us to believe. You aren’t my sun, or my stars. You are the center of the universe that i stand for, the moon that no matter how much i tried to get away from continues to rise and remain even on the never ending days, because i didn’t mean it all those months ago in the bleachers when i just wanted you to stop being mad at me for being the dumb ass i am, and i will never be the best when it comes to words and emotions luv, but i mean it now. I truly truly am sorry, and -” his voice breaks, and his hands shake, a tear slips from his eyes and you can see it’s reflection by the light. 

“St…” you take a breath, the word not leaving your throat, your breaths are shaky and jeno tries to reach out to you, tries to wipe away the silent flow of tears that continues to stream down your face, “stop”. The word finally manage to leave your lips, harsher than you wanted them too but it stops jeno from grabbing your hand, from taking away the warmth of his hand against your cheek, his eyes that had begun to light up slightly to be shut down again, as if someone had doused water on him. 

“Luv…” the moment the words leave his lips you know you have to leave, because if he does say those words, the ones you know you’ve been dreading to hear because you feel the same way. Because you have fallen and though you have hit rock bottom, and have been smacked back into reality your heart has never stopped reaching towards his. It doesn’t help, when his eyes look at yours with love, and you want to forgive him, you want everything to be okay, and in order for that to happen you can’t break down in front of him. Slowly do you shake your head, arms wrapping around your body as if they could provide some type of warmth, and heat up your bones, give warmth back into your eyes the way they do when you look at jeno. Which is why you don’t look at him, why you turn away leaving his arm outstretched and hanging. You can feel his eyes trail you, as you open the door the noise of the outside world rushing into the room, startling you for a second, but jeno doesn’t seem to hear it. The only thing he can focus on is you leaving, your footstep getting farther away, and his world becoming a little darker, more grey. The last thing he sees is your - well what used to be his - grey hoodie, the marking of sharpie that have been used to doodle on the piece of clothing one late night, flashing before the wooden door closes shut, surrounding him in a lonely silence again. 

I hate it when you’re not around,

The world seems to mock you for falling for lee jeno. The black haired boy seemed to follow you everywhere you went no matter how far away you tried to get away from the memories that plagued you. Days had passed since the world had yet again seemed to shift on its axis, and you had seen jeno less and less, but that didn’t stop your mind from making you remember his laugh anytime you heard a bad joke. 

No longer did brown eyes meet yours right after school ended in the cafe next to school, you weren’t greeted by the easy smile, that turned eyes into moons, or called the obnoxious pet names of angel and luv that used to make you want to punch a wall, only for you to find the words to be missing from your everyday life. Moments when the radio would play the song about summer and hazy love would worm their way into your heart, and it was like he was there. Smiling at you, his hand intertwined with yours as you drove your car to the top of the mountain where you first met, and just when the chorus would hit the two of you would belt out the song at the top of your lungs. It was only when the song ended, the melody fading into the back and replaced by the rapid voices of an ad for some car dealership you really didn’t care for, that you would look to find an empty seat beside you. No boy with a leather jacket, and combat boots that might have been propped up on the dashboard much to your protests, instead the seats were either empty and cold with no presence or soul in them, and the car would suddenly feel small and distant. 

Other times, the pang of not hearing his laughter diffuse into the air, over your clumsy self either tripping over words or almost falling over due to there being a small rock in the sidewalk. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t have friends. Your best friend, the same one that had dragged you into that party all those months ago, would never miss a beat to be with you, to take you out for a random karaoke night or a late night drive on her car. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them, you loved how they would always make time for the small nuisance you would bother them about, even if it was just to tell them about a new meme you’d found but the way their presence would fill only a small space in your heart made it hard. Especially because you would see how happy they were anytime they talked about Mark, the stories of their lazy dates filled your heart with happiness and joy. It had become a habit to prioritize other’s happiness above your own, and soon it became a habit to prioritize getting jeno out of your memories out of the place in your heart he had seemed to crawl into and not leave. 

Memories you come to realize are fleeting, and unpredictable. They are made from what one process to be from the emotions they feel in the current moment that the memory is being stored into your brain. The thing about memories, it’s a thing that they don’t tell you in 12th grade biology class. School or teachers don’t teach you about the different emotions and images that memories bring along with them. The figments that surround every memory you have for the past year seem to somehow always lead back to jeno. He comes when you think about your favorite drink, hot chocolate, and the drink transports you back to jeno bringing you hot chocolate late at night after long after hour practices. His black hair makes a presence, when you think about the essay you had to turn in a week ago, you don’t remember much of the project but your brain, against your conscious will remembers the way jeno’s hair felt through your fingers as you played with his hair one late afternoon. The threads come together slowly, on a random day, in which the sun seems to almost be desperate to stay on the earth’s surface, as it turns the buildings around it into purple hues. It almost seems like it’s gasping for air, and as the purple slowly turns into pink and lastly disappears beyond the horizon it’s last breath taken and long gone you realize something. Like the sun, and the threads that are tied together in order to form memories, in order to form the segments of life that when pieces together form a picture that lets one create the story of a person or a setting, jeno seems to form in front of you. You sit on top of the mountain where you first met, but this time you are alone, the skyline displayed out in front of you. The trees have lost their leaves and some of them even still have some white specks of snow in them, that with one push of wind would make the tremble and shiver, letting go of the white covering. 

Jeno is next to you, his hand only a mere centimeter from yours, but you continue to look at the sky, the buildings that go on for as long as you can see. His memory, the way you rest your head on his shoulder and he listens and listens no judgement ever from his eyes, only support and encouragement to let you choose what will make you happy. A memory that repeats over and over again, but that isn’t your favorite memory from jeno. The last memory that forms in your head, after the roadtrips, to sweet make out sessions that led you two to leave whatever homework you had to work on for another time, or the sweet messages left at your phone that would bring a smile to your face even if he just texted you about the weather, to then get a back hug as he called you angel. 

Your favorite memory was the day you had been on the exact same spot you where now, except jeno had been next to you, breathing a little harder than normal he had just shown you a dance routine he’s been working on for as long as you could remember. His eyes didn’t shine like they usually did, they didn’t take in the light around him, and his face didn’t have traces of a grin that you had grown so used too. Instead he pushed you away, dark roots from his bleached hair he had decided to try out for the month had begun to show and you could see the stress that seemed to suffocate him. This was a different side of jeno, a side you hadn't seen, one that you tried to approach with a joke, only to be quickly shut down. A small argument over school and life had formed, in which you two had gone from being right next to each other to being feet apart, a scowl on your face, the same one that jeno bore. It was this memory that was your favorite because it had been the first time you had truly seen jeno be vulnerable, it had been the first time from the weeks you had gotten to know each other that you felt that the walls on walls he built around himself, the walls you built around yourself had been torn down. There had been no shared kisses, no shared moments in which one hadn’t jokingly filtered with the other until the first droplet fell down jeno’s face. The only reason you had seen it was because the sun, punctual as always, had descended flickers of light reflecting in his face. It was a small action but enough that there was some part that managed to push aside your pride and you approached him, arms wrapping around his waist. The memory makes you remember that it took him a second to wrap his arms around you, but in that moment, it seemed as only for a second in which you could provide some support for the boy in front of you, then he could give you the support you needed. Threads of the memory are vague, movements in which you can’t fully pinpoint what happened in between or later, in which you know that at one point music had begun to make its way up the mountain from one of the daily parties the teens would throw, but you two held onto each other. The song, isn’t one you can seem to recall, but it wasn’t one that people slow dance too, it wasn’t one in which you are supposed to hold onto the boy in front of you arms around his neck, as his eyes looked into yours, smiles grazing both of your features as your foreheads touched, a small kiss placed on your forehead. Moonlight cascading the both of you, pushing away the shadows that surrounded you both. 

It was any memory that you had in which jeno took part, in which you could feel him next to you, that was your favorite. Memories, you remember reading somewhere are your subconscious telling you something, it is the way the body and mind admit what you are too scared to take in for yourself. Memories of jeno next to you, and then not are what make you realize how much you hate not having the black haired boy, with the overly kind personality next to you. 

And the fact you didn’t call.

Days turn into months, as the winter snow leaves the tree’s branches leaving them barren. Only for the spring rain and occasional sun to let the leaves and flowers begin to spring back up again. Teachers are at the point in the year whether they aren’t quite sure if they want to give everyone in the class a pass just so they don’t have to hear the constant complaining on the amount of assignments a student has due by tomorrow, or if they’ll give more work, more assessments as a sort of payback for the hardships they’ve had to endure throughout the year.  

You are in music class, your professor going over the final assessments guidelines one last time before they are presented at the start of class tomorrow. The weight of the written sonnet feels heavy, and though the physical copy of the assignment is types out neatly somewhere in your computer, the original draft that you had begun to draft all those months ago is crumpled up in your jacket pocket, a constant reminder of everything you want and everything that you feel you can’t have. 

If you close your eyes just for a second you can see yourself back in your room, until the space changes and you are no longer in your room but are at the school’s roof. The warm spring breeze tangling your hair, and making the page in front of you flutter. You didn’t need the paper, the lyrics to the musical sonnet that had been shakespeare inspired seemed to be embedded into your brain so that when you weren’t thinking about the thousands of words you still had to write when it came to the labs for biology class, or the analysis of catcher in the rye for english class, the words would replay in your head over and over. The soft melody accompanying them. Humming to the song had become a habit, one that had developed like how one realizes that they bit ethier lip, or thumbs when they are stressed or bored. A habit that once you realize it’s there you can’t help but notice it every time you do it. The notebook paper continues to rustle, and you fold it and place it into the pocket of the black jean jacket, taking a deep breath as you do so. Unlike summer nights and winter afternoons, spring doesn't feel suffocating when the sun is out, because the clouds do a job of covering the sun before it burns your skin. The wind dies down, and you begin to humm to the sonnet, the words so familiar you were almost sure if your memory was to be taken, those words would remain embedded, and make their way back up because they were an acceptance of everything you were and everything you felt. 

The final bell has rang, and you can see the swarm of teenage bodies rush out of the school, some go directly to the bus stop in groups, others head to the grass fields that make up most of the school's building. You don’t think much about where others go, don’t dwell much if they get home safely or if their parents will pick them up. Dwelling too much on thoughts a feeling never helped anybody, it’s a mantra that has been drilled into you and almost every other teenager and young adult in this lifetime as movies and books tell you to focus on the present never on the future and most definitely not in the future. Yet you wonder if these books written by great authors that make you question the world around you, or movies that seem to transcend time if the authors themselves that preach about not dwelling too much on one moment if they themselves spent too much time focusing on the sound of their love’s laughter, or the way their nose would scrunch up a reaction to the world around them anytime they found something amusing. You wonder if the person or memory they were told or did think about so much that it caused them heartache had the ability to make them write the poems you had written. So you try to not dwell on the people, no larger than your thumb as they rush from one side of the campus to another, because if you thought about him, it, for too long the memories would rush back in. Instead you look down, the light vertigo causing you to snap back into some realm of reality. 

 Sitting down on the roof’s edge, legs dangling off the edge you continue to hum and sing to the melody that plays in your heart, confession to yourself, a confession to the dark haired boy that captured your heart. The tears seem to swell up over and over as you reach the bridge, and they stream silently, down your face. They run down landing on your hands, on the ripped jeans and doodle converse. Your mind drifts to the memories connected with the lyrics and the fact that as much as you wanted to not want to hear jeno’s voice especially after you had pushed him away, you couldn’t get rid of the way he knew you. He knew you better than at times you almost thought you knew yourself, it was a nuisance the way your heart would skip beats months after everything went down, how it would still accelerate when you two would make eye contact because he had apologized and you don’t know if it was because you had never felt this way before, or because you two kept meeting underneath the moonlight the same song that seemed to connect the two of in one string of fate that you had forgiven him. But forgiveness didn’t mean forgetting, it didn’t mean that you had wished he’d called and you hate him - or lack thereof to do so - when days passed and the beep boop ba a compilation of random noises jeno would make whenever he was confused, and your ringtone for him didn’t disturb you. 

Your voice breaks slightly as the melody in your head falls, fading into a non-existent background. The sun had begun to fall, but you don’t notice, eyes closed as you take in the world around you. Notes ending, song and the hum of love never confessed, never expressed, stolen by the wind. And that’s the thing about having your eyes closed, oblivious to the world and the people around you, because you don’t hear the opening and closing of the slightly rusted door. You don’t notice the boy with a leather jacket, hair almost covering his eyes that are filled with so much love but confusion by the words that leave your mouth. It’s the thing about the wind, that it takes a message and delivers it to whom it wants you unlike a phone call that is directed at who you choose. The wind is a free spirit, and it doesn’t travel far. To be more exact it travels the short span of a mere seconds, a mere feet to jeno whose mouth has fallen at the sound of your voice so raw and pure. It is the wind that calls him to you, the wind that makes him take slow steps to you. 

Wind, a warm breeze in the coming summer air, love that you don’t realize you have, you need until it’s wrapping its arms around you.

                         But mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you.

The moment you feel arms wrapping around you still. Every bone in your body stops moving, your legs stop swinging and your voice catches in your throat. It isn’t until you spot the small cassette tattoo on the wrist of the arms wrapped around you that you breathe again and push yourself back, a curse escaping your lips. Laughter rings in your ears as jeno holds you up from where you sit, and turns you around so that you face him. You begin to push him away, on instinct from weeks of telling yourself that you wanted nothing to do with the boy in front of you. That the way his eyes dimmed, and lips curved down by the light gesture of pushing him away didn’t affect you. It was a mantra, push him away, don’t get hurt, a mantra produced by a time of hurt and fear for being broken again. Something that you had come to realize though in the past week, the past day, past couple of minutes when someone’s arms had warped around you and you had wished it had been jeno, that the heart and the mind don’t always coincide. 

It is when you look up again, and jeno is already looking at you, hair illuminated by the descending sun, as it casted flames dancing across his features, and lighting up his eyes, that you smile. Some sort of smile that repairs something in jeno, because his eyes seem to be filled with hope again and he opens his mouth ready to speak, ready to tell you everything he wanted to say again, mostly to apologize but when he opens his mouth the words seem to be caught in his throat. Stuck, as if there was some force pulling them back, not letting them escape and reach you. Mouth opens and closes again, and it’s the sound of your voice as you call to him, and say something he can’t quite process, blocked by the noise that doesn’t leave his head that he can finally speak again. 

“June 21” those weren’t supposed to be the words that lef this mouth, and your confused look didn’t give him any confidence to continue whatever the hell he was gonna do, which at this point he truly didn’t know because this was supposed to be an apology but he had already apologized. Jeno decided to do his best, and try again, “that was the day we met. The day you helped me finish composing this beautiful song that helped me get into music school. The day where the second i heard you singing off the words i threw out into the open air hoping for someone to grab onto, you did, and my heart seemed to begin it’s freefall” a small smile graced your features, as you remembered the day, not knowing how much life would change. The small smile is all jeno needed to continue, gaining confidence even as happiness filled every inch of you, tears that you promised you wouldn’t shed in front of him steamed but not from sadness or anger this time. This time they were from a place of loss and happiness to the boy whose eyes conveyed so much more than the words he spoke, whose hand had come up to your cheek wiping away the spare tears that would come down. Ever so gentle and full, always him. 

“It was something I didn't think was possible, you know? Coming to this new school, everyone had come up with their own ideas of who i was, because of stories they had heard, only to find you. Headstrong as ever, always standing by whatever you believe even some like pluto is still a planet” you both laugh, it’s a quick one, more like a chuckle but it’s filled with joy, at the memory. “You who didn’t care what the world thought, only that if you put your mind to it you would get it done. I never meant to fall in love with you, never meant to make you cry because of something that shouldn’t have ever happened, I never meant to get you too hate me the way you probably do” his eyes softened, and he pulled away ever so slightly, “but here I am. And i now i most definitely don’t deserve it but y/n, i can’t deny it because since i first heard your voice that late night i think i fell for you, and it has been a constant free fall from there. So when i say it now, i mean it i fucking love you” the end was more of a ramble, a long list of words that made your heart flip and expand in your chest, making your smile grow and you could see the doubt in his eyes, you could see him retreat back into himself, he completely let you go when you spoke up again, “you want to know what i hate the most?” you didn’t wait for a response before speaking again, grabbing his hands in yours, and you willed him to look at you. 

“I hate the way that I don't hate you” you take a step closer to him, your faces so close the sun casting glows on you both. Two shadows becoming one behind you as the sun set, as one confessed to another the way they felt. “Because i don’t hate you, jeno. In fact it’s the opposite, because hate is not even close, not a tiny bit in resemblance to what i feel you for you,

Not even close, Not even a little bit,  Not even at all.” 

adfghjk and it’s finally done !!! i had so so so much fun writing this piece and seriously hope you guys enjoyed it !! im such a sucker for jeno and this movie in general lol. i struggled w the ending so i hope it came out well :) n e ways,,, please please tell me your thoughts on it, what you liked? what you didn’t like? things i could improve on. much love to you all !!

masterlist

[monaownsmyass]

It’s Complicated/Uncomplicated - Part 2/2

Requested fic by @ineedskyecrandall (if you have any fic ideas or requests you’d like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: My Two First Loves, (after) Chapter 38

Pairing: Ava Lawrence x MC (Emma Price)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word count: 4,152 (she’s a long one)

A/N: Continuation of Part 1! Ava and MC go on their first date. QUESTION: do you guys prefer shorter or longer fics? Pls lmk. Also I’m pretty sure I chipped my nail polish while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy 😂

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @midnitesteph (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics.)

I woke up to a text from Ava.

'Rise and shine, you sleepy sloth! I hope you had a good night, here's something to brighten your morning! Xoxo'

She attached a cute cat gif stretching its paws and yawning as it wakes up from it's sleep.

I shot her back a quick reply. 'Morning, babe! Thanks for the adorable cat gif, I can't wait to see your gorgeous face later today <3'.

I may have just woken up but I just knew that today was gonna be an amazing day.

The hours leading up to my date with Ava was a blur. I was wrecked with excitement and anticipation. Mackenzie noticed me on edge and I explained my dilemma to her. She didn't seem that surprised when I came out to her as bi and told her I had a date with Ava.

She just rolled her eyes and said, 'Finally!'.

Two hours before our date, I begged Mack to help me find the perfect outfit. I paced up and down my room, trying on my entire wardrobe and still not being able to settle on anything.

"Oh my god, Em, calm down!" Mack exclaimed in frustration. "It's just Ava! She's seen you at your absolute trash bottom!"

"I know! But it's different!" I defended. "It's like an actual date this time, y'know?"

"You went out for dates with Noah and Mason recently and you weren't walking up and down your room like an agitated child that just shat their pants and is too afraid to tell their parents." She squinted at me. "You like her a lot more than the both of them, don't you?"

"I- what? Mack, no. I mean, I'm not sure. I haven't figured it out yet."

She sighed and stared at me dead in the eyes. "Look, I know you like both boys but I think even you have noticed that you're more drawn to Ava. Shit, you just told me an hour or so ago that you liked her and I can already tell just by looking at you now." She waited for me to process her words before speaking again. "You aren't gonna destroy Mason's or Noah's life if you chose to be with Ava. They're big boys, they can handle the rejection."

Her words struck a chord in me. I have noticed that ever since Ava kissed me I haven't been able to think about either Mason or Noah. When I kissed both of them, I was constantly worrying about the other but with Ava, it was only her that occupied my mind.

I looked away then back at my sister. "I... I think you're right. But I'm just gonna have this date with her before I come to a conclusion."

She waved her hand at me. "Yeah yeah, you do that, but I bet you fifty that you'll agree with me."

"No way am I agreeing to that bet," I scoffed.

"And why not?"

"...'Cuz I'm pretty sure I'll lose."

~•~•~

After over an hour, I finally decided on a cute outfit and waited for Ava in my living room. I was fidgeting with my fingers while Mack made fun of me, teasing me about how nervous I was but I couldn't even focus because it was true; I was mortified.

Ding Dong!

"Ahh!" I shouted in surprise.

My sister just laughed at me and moved to answer the door. "Chill, your girlfriend's here."

"She's not my girl-" I started but stopped mid-sentence when I saw her walk into our hallway.

She may have not been my girlfriend just yet but god, I wish she were.

"Ava," I whispered, speechless. "H-hey!"

"Hey yourself, babe!" She came up to me and wrapped me in a hug. The pet name caused a rush of heat to my cheeks which I was sure she felt when she kissed it. We've always called each other by pet names, 'baby', 'babe', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'jerk' or 'weirdo' even but this time, it felt different. Different in a good way.

She pulled back slightly as her eyes traveled up and down my figure. Her gaze set my body on fire. "You look amazing!" she complimented. "You're so pretty."

I blushed. "Thanks." I gave her a once over and felt my breath hitch. "You look really hot," I blurted out without thinking and immediately slapped my palm against my mouth.

She burst out laughing, the sound filling me with delight despite my embarrassment. "Thank you, Em." She lifted an arm and it was only then that I noticed that she was holding a bouquet of flowers. "Um, these are for you."

She knew I loved flowers. I accepted it, starting to get a little teary eyed. This was ridiculous! We haven't even stepped out of the house and I was already overwhelmed with emotions. It was a gorgeous bunch of yellow roses with red petal tips. I immediately recognised the meaning behind the colour and the tears started to trickle down my face.

"Ava," I lunged at her, wrapped my arms around her neck and burying my face in the crook of it. "You seriously didn't have to."

"But I wanted to, I wanted to do this right," she laughed and hugged me back.

This moment would've been perfect if it weren't for Mackenzie clearing her throat from the living room couch.

"Okayyyy, I guess this is my cue to leave," she awkwardly excused herself and made her way upstairs. "Bye, lovebirds! Stay safe! Don't do anything stupid and don't forget to practice safe se-!"

"Mack!" I exclaimed, cutting her off but hurling a pillow from the couch at her.

My face was flushed with heat once again from Mack's comment but Ava just let out a good-natured laugh, obviously finding the whole ordeal amusing.

"C'mon, Em. Let's go," she said.

I excused myself to place the bouquet into a vase before walking to her sedan. She opened the door of the passenger seat for me before closing it and entering the driver's side. This girl was too sweet, I swear she'd be the death of me.

She started the engine and started driving away from my house.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"And why should I tell you?" she teased.

"Uh, because I'm in your car and I don't know where you're taking me? That's basically kidnapping!"

"It's not if you entered on your own free will!" she giggled and I couldn't help but laugh along with her. Her laugh was contagious and it made my heart flutter.

I didn't have to wait long to find out our destination. It was a small, quaint ice cream parlour. The same ice cream parlour we went to on our first hang out together. We hadn't been back here since and the sight of the shop made me nostalgic.

We entered the shop and it was just as I remembered. It was quite and calm. A much different ambience from the outside world. We walked up to the display freezer and stared at all the different options.

Ava turned to me. "Okay, so here's how we make things interesting, we order a random ice cream we haven't tried before, no trying the flavours beforehand."

I gave her a look. Leave it to Ava to find a way to spice things up. One thing I can say for sure was that my life would definitely be boring without her.

"So, what would you like?"

"Um, I'm not sure." One particular ice cream stood out to me though I wasn't sure it'd be my cup of tea. "I kinda want to try the Maple Bacon Ice Cream but I don't know if I'll like it."

"First of all, that's the whole point of this! We won't know, it's a game of luck. Second of all, you haven't tried Maple Bacon before?" she asked incredulously.

"And you have?"

"Of course! Who hasn't?"

"Ava, that's not a regular ice cream flavour, weirdo."

"It is in my house...," she muttered as she pouted, eyebrows furrowing. I couldn't help but giggle at how cute she was being. "What if we share it? Since you're too chicken to actually get a whole scoop for yourself."

"Hey! That's not true!" I protested but she was right on some regards. I didn't want to waste it if I didn't like it. "But since you insisted, sure, I guess."

"Don't pretend you're not relieved that I offered to share," she smiled teasingly at me.

After much persuasion, I finally let Ava pay for the ice cream and we found an empty booth in the corner. It was far away and secluded enough from the other patrons to give us some privacy.

We sat across from each other with the cup of ice cream in between us. I noticed that they only gave us one spoon. We've shared food and cutlery before but this time, it made me nervous.

"They only gave us one spoon," I pointed out.

"So?" Ava questioned. "We've shared before, here!"

She scooped up some ice cream and brought it up to my lips. I looked at her and cautiously leaned forward to let her feed me. I saw her gulp as I accepted the ice cream.

She shook herself out of her daze and asked, "How is it?"

I licked my lips and gave her a smile. "It's actually really good!"

"See? You should listen to me more often," she bragged.

"Yeah, yeah, now let me feed you instead, it's only fair."

We continued to feed each other, giggling and laughing every time we smudged ice cream against the other's cheek. At first I did it by accident but Ava wasn't having it so she did it back to me on purpose.

We were attacking each other with ice cream, almost screaming at one point and only stopped when we noticed the ice cream server glaring at us.

We quiet down, trying to hold in our giggles and I couldn't help but get distracted by Ava. I saw her mouth moving, saying something but I wasn't listening. Last night was the first time I really got to look at her but right now, in the daylight, I could see every detail of her face that I missed under the dim streetlight. And now that I know my feeling weren't entirely platonic, I could properly appreciate them.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows, her almond eyes that were a beautiful shade of chestnut brown, accentuated by her eyeliner and mascara and her soft lips that were painted in a darker shade of red today, perfectly complimenting her features. Her gorgeous hair, her high cheekbones, her strong jaw, her freckles. God, her freckles. They scattered all over her cheeks and nose making her look absolutely adorable. All these combined together to make the absolute masterpiece that was Ava.

I've always liked her freckles. I liked how prominent they were in the summer and I knew sometimes she was insecure about how obvious they were but I've always thought that that was ridiculous. If anything I thought it made her look extremely pretty. Not that she isn't without them but there was something about them that caught my attention.

I was broken out of my reverie when I say Ava waving a hand in front of my eyes.

"Hellooo? Earth to Emma?" she said, laughing. "You completely blanked out, what are you thinking about?"

"About you," I replied without a second thought.

I saw her looking a bit flustered and blush a little but she countered back. "Oh? And what about me?"

"I was just thinking about how stunning you look," I admitted.

She bit her lip. "We've known each other for years, you know how I look like, dork."

"Yeah, but I've never gotten a chance to properly look at you and appreciate your face. You're so breath-taking."

I moved to slowly cup her face in my hands and I felt the warmth from her cheeks. I saw her let out a shaky breath and close her eyes for a while before looking back at me. My own heart was doing flips. She smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you flirt," she joked.

We talked as we finished up our ice cream. Well, I ate most of eat but on our way out I bought one for Ava since I felt bad for stealing most of it. We walked out of the shop, passing the cone of ice cream back and forth to share.

"Where to next?" I asked her while licking the ice cream.

"Just keep walking, we'll be there soon," she replied while reaching out to take the ice cream from me.

I shook my head at her refusal to tell me but I complied. We walked down the sidewalk, shoulders brushing ever so slightly every now and then. I felt her hand ghost over mine a couple of times before I looked up at her. I could almost sense the conflict going on in her head. I silently giggled to myself before grabbing her hand, interlocking our fingers together.

Just like she did the night before, she looked at our hands and then into my eyes. I saw a twinkle in them as she gave me a shy smile.

"Thank you," she spoke softly.

I gave her hand a squeeze in response as we continued to walk down the street, hand-in-hand and sharing the ice cream.

I loved the way her hand fit in mine. It felt different from Mason's and Noah's hand. Their's were slightly calloused, maybe from playing football, and much bigger than mine. I liked the way their's made me feel protected and secured.

However, Ava's hand, while just as strong, was smooth and smaller. It felt comforting and familiar, like someone you've known for a long time who'd always be there even on your worse days. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer this over their's.

"I like holding your hand," Ava spoke out. "It's nice."

I let out a small chuckle and nodded. "I was just thinking the same."

We walked a few more steps before Ava announced, "We're here."

She brought me to a park that was filled with trees and flowers. The park wasn't too crowded but there were a decent amount of people minding their own business. Being autumn, most leaves on the trees were a fiery yet serene combination of red, orange and amber. We walked down a pathway lined with the trees and covered with fallen leaves.

"The scenery is amazing!" I stated in awe. I looked around to take in the view and turned back to Ava to only see her gazing at me.

"So are you," she added. I don't know how many more times she was going to make me blush but I wasn't complaining.

After walking a little more, we spotted a bench. We finished up the ice cream and threw the wrapper and tissue into the trash can nearby before I pulled her by the hand to sit.

She sat a few spaces away but I scooted closer to her. I took her hand in both of mine and placed it on my lap, caressing it. We've always been physically affectionate with each other and I'm not going to allow that to change now. I still wanted her to be comfortable around me despite our recent revelation about our relationship.

Once I saw her relax a bit, I placed my head on her shoulder. I could tell her heart started to race and I had to admit that her nearness was making my heart do the same. The smell of her perfume wafted up to my nose and made my mind hazy. I was finding it hard to focus on anything else with her so close to me. But the again, why would I want to focus on anything else?

I closed my eyes and heard her speak. "I don't think you know how painful it was seeing you with Noah yesterday at homecoming. I kept trying to tell myself that it wasn't my place to be jealous but I couldn't help it. I'm sorry."

"If it makes you feel any better, even though I was with Noah, I couldn't stop myself from staring at you," I confessed. "When I saw you, I thought I was looking at an ethereal being, you didn't look like you belonged on earth, let alone at some crappy high school gym."

She lets out a radiant giggle and I felt her shoulders shake in laughter as I continued, "I realised last night that it's been like this for some time now. I hope you know that this has been long time coming, it's not just some fluke thing that happened last night."

She wraps an arm around my waist, letting it rest against my hip. "I get it, I feel the same way. I've liked you for some time now but it was time I finally admitted it to myself."

I swallowed, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. Hearing her speak like that made me indescribably happy. "Yesterday, at the dance, I was secretly hoping you'd cut in and ask me for a dance," I confessed.

"I was hoping you'd ask me!" she revealed and we both laughed.

Ava gently nudged me off of her and stood from the bench. I looked up at her, puzzled. She stretched out an arm, offering it to me. "Since I didn't get to ask you for a dance yesterday, I'm doing it now. Would you like to share a dance with me, darling?"

I giggled at her antics. "Ava, we're in the middle of the park! People will think we're mad!"

"I don't care about them, only you. Do you care?" she challenged back.

I didn't have to think twice about my answer. "When I'm with you? Never have and never will."

I placed my hand in hers and she brought it up to her lips kissing it before pulling me up to her feet. I crashed into her, laughing and holding onto her to stabilise myself. She chuckled along with me and guided us a few paces away from the bench. She positioned a hand on my hip and the other still clutching mine. Instinctively, I brought one hand to rest on her shoulder.

"There's no music," I stated.

"Looks like we'll just have to make our own."

Ava began humming a random tune and we started spinning around as if we were ballroom dancing. We stepped onto the grassy area as my laughter and Ava's humming increased in volume.

She twirled and dipped me. She placed both her hands on my waist and lifted me, spinning me in circles as I giggled uncontrollably. If anyone was staring, I didn't notice or bother. All I cared about was that I was in Ava's arms and I felt like I was flying.

She set me down and we both just looked at each other, smiling wider than we've seen each other grin before. I pulled her into me to hug her, resting my cheek against hers. Our heavy breathing and racing hearts began to subside. I moved back slightly in her arms to still see her smiling at me.

She looked back at me and seeing her so happy made me ecstatic in return. It made my heart sing to know I'm the reason for her happiness. The way she was looking at me made me feel important. It made me feel as if I was the best thing that's ever happened to her and it was then that I knew that the feeling was mutual.

Her mesmerising eyes gazed into mine and I thought back to last night, right before we kissed. I really wanted to kiss her then and I wanted it again now.

As if she could read my thoughts, she leaned in closer to me. Inches before her lips met mine, she stopped, hesitating if she should close the gap between us. I could feel her heart start pounding in her chest again against mine.

"Kiss me, Ava," I whispered, quietly enough so only she could hear.

She placed a hand behind my neck and tugged me into a kiss. Our lips met and it felt just as spectacular as last night's. I grabbed onto her harder, not wanting to let her go in case she pulls away but by the way she was clutching onto me made it clear she wouldn't dare dream of it.

Kissing Ava felt like the most wonderful thing in the universe. Mason and Noah were great kisser but even they couldn't even begin to compete with Ava. The small fluttering feeling in my tummy whenever I kissed them was nothing compared to the overwhelming sensation I was experiencing right now. Electricity was surging through my body, energising my entire being. It was entirely intoxicating. It was other-worldly.

I've never understood why people referred to their significant others as their weaknesses because right now, kissing Ava, I felt more alive than I ever did. She wasn't my weakness, she was my strength and...

Did I just refer to Ava as my significant other?

Like all good things, it had to come to an end. But it wasn't by choice, though. So enraptured in the kiss, I leaned further forward, causing Ava to lean back until she stumbled backwards and tripped over a rock. She crashed to the ground, taking me with her.

"Oof!"

"Ouch!"

We looked at each other and burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" I asked her in between giggles.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied in a similar manner.

Ava was flat on her back and I was still on top of her as I buried my face in the crook to muffle my laughter. Ava tossed her head back, still laughing.

After a while, the laughter died down and I lifted myself to look at her once again. We couldn't help it. We started giggling madly, so much so that I let out a snort that only made us more hysterical.

"Oh god, I can't breathe," Ava wheezed.

It took us at least a good three minutes to fully calm down. I rolled off Ava and laid beside her.

"C'mere," she said and pulled me closer.

I rested my head on her shoulder and draped an arm over her torso. She wrapped an arm around me while our legs intertwined. She was staring at the sky as I closed my eyes. It's amazing to think that just the day before yesterday I was worried about choosing between Mason and Noah but now, it's never been clearer that there was only one person for me. And ironically, it was neither of them.

Being here with Ava made me recognise that the reason I couldn't choose between either of them was because my heart already belonged to someone else without me even realising.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's  presence when I finally broke the quite.

"It's crazy how so much can change in a day." I said softly. "I admit, ever since day one, I would catch myself looking at you. I thought I was staring at you because that's just what people do when they find beauty in something. I know now that while that's true, there's more to it. And it's because I like you, Ava. I really like you. It might have taken us years for us to get here but I wouldn't have had it any other way."

I felt her hold her breath for a while before slowly exhaling.

I spoke again, "I think I'm gonna call it quits with Noah and Mason."

"Are you sure? That's pretty fast."

"I've never been more sure. I can't help but compare how much better everything feels with you. I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend yet, we don't have to rush it, but why lead them on when I already know you're the best for me. You, Ava Lawrence, are my first choice."

I opened my eyes. I still couldn't see Ava's face but I felt her inhaled deeply before gently, tenderly uttering, "You are my first choice too, Emma Price."

I felt the joy bubbling in me at her words. I smiled and let out a contented sigh.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "My feelings were never complicated, I was just to blind to see them for what they actually were." And it was true.

I couldn't help but think how glad I was that I didn't take on Mackenzie's bet. She was right. It always was and always will be Ava.

She may not have been my first love but she was my soulmate.

(More fics!)

[softspiderling]

swanky fortune - part six | t.h.

Summary: confessions in an alley, surviving a shovel talk and saying good bye

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Te Robaré by Nicky Jam feat Ozuna

Author’s Note: IT’S CONFESSION TIME Y’ALL!!! I really really hope you love this chapter, bc I’ve been SQUEALING while writing it. ENJOY!!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 3,8k

Masterlist

Teaser | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

“Hey Tom,” you called out softly and he startled, opening his eyes to look at you. They were wide and vulnerable.

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

“I like you too.”

Tom‘s eyes widened comically.

“What?” he asked. “Really?”

“Are you kidding? I literally told you when we first met,” you pointed out and he sighed, shaking his head.

“No. It’s not the same.”

He looked upset. You were confused, because didn’t understand what was going on. Was he… Upset because you liked him back? Wasn’t he supposed to be happy about that?

“It’s different when you like me because I’m your celebrity crush. I want you to like me because I’m me, not because I’m Tom Holland.”

You scratched your head with your nails, unsure if you were able to follow his train of thought. “… But you are Tom Holland.”

“You know what I mean,” He squinted his eyes at you, trying to figure out if you were messing with him or not.

“I do, actually, yes,” you sighed and stepped closer to him carefully.

“I like you, Tom, family person, dog person, Harrison person. You’re a bit of a dick, to be honest, but when it comes tough on tough, you take care of your friends, your family, of me.”

You said the last part more quietly and Tom gave you the softest look, a small smile growing on his face. Wow, you were sure you were going to die.

He took your hands in his and laced them together, almost shyly. “And people say it’s complicated to date in our time,” he joked, squeezing your hand.

“I like you a lot,” you said and he furrowed his brows at your answer.

“Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

“But-“

Tom sighed before you could continue, his face falling a bit at your sullen tone.

“But we’ve only known each other for two days. Literally. We can’t just be together. It wouldn’t end well,” you pointed out and he frowned, but nodding nonetheless.

“And you know, considering you’re a world-known actor I want to be completely sure of my feelings for you, before we start being serious. I’ve never dated a celebrity before, but I can imagine very well what kind of baggage you’re lugging around with you.”

You were a bit scared that this would scare Tom off, but you knew that you had to do this to protect yourself and if that scared him off, he wasn’t the person you thought he was.

“No, you make a good point. I want to do this the right way. It’s been a while since I’ve liked someone like this and I don’t want to ruin it before it even starts,” he said and wrinkled his nose cutely.

“Friends for now?”

He looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face.

“Friends,” he then said and wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“What are you doing?” you asked, breathing into his woody perfume, your hand clutching tightly at the back of his suit jacket, material crunching between your fingers.

“Friends can give each other hugs, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you forced down the growing smile on your face and sighed softly, leaning your head on his chest, allowing yourself this closeness for a hot minute before you pulled away reluctantly.

Looking up at him, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves, giving him a shy smile. His eyes were trained on you while his arms hung loosely around your waist. Your faces were only inches away, you were standing so close, you could feel his warm breath on your cheek bones, a hint of beer engulfing your nose.

You’ve never liked the smell of beer more.

Tom then lifted his hand to your cheek and instead of tucking your hair back like you were thought he was going to do, he swiped his thumb over your temple.

“You’re really sweaty,” he observed, eyeing the sweat drops on his thumb and you yelped, swatting his hand away.

“Shut up! I am not used to this weather!” you glared at him. “It’s not like I have five different people swarming around me to keep me looking fresh and cool all the time!”

Huffing, your narrowed your eyes at him with a pout and he laughed, his eyes crinkling before he swiftly dipped down to capture your lips in a kiss.

Your eyes widened at first, not having expected him to kiss you, but you recovered quickly, your grip on his waist tightening and you kissed him back, pressing into him, your lips gliding over his smoothly.

Tom cupped your face with both his hands and then he was licking into your mouth with his tongue and you were pretty sure you let out a small whine.

It’s been a while since you’ve been kissed like this, like you two were the only people left on earth, like he was drowning and you were his oxygen.

You felt his mouth curve up in a grin and you bit down on his lower lip gently in return, causing him to grumble, pulling you even closer. Tom’s finger tips were tracing along your jaw and he gave you one long final kiss, before he pulled away, his cheeks red.

A bit dazed, you cleared your throat and reached up to wipe your lipstick off his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure friends don’t do this,” you said quietly and he gave you a cheeky grin, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it.

“I couldn’t help myself when you were looking at me like that.”

“I was literally roasting you, Tom.”

Tom shrugged and ran his hands down your arms, causing you to shiver despite the warm weather.

“Maybe I’m into that sort of thing,” he quipped and you gasped in shock.

“Tom!”

Suddenly, the metal door was pushed open and the two of you sprung apart when Harrison stepped out, raising an eyebrow at the scene in front of him.

“Mate, they’re looking for you,” Harrison said, gesturing towards the crowd.

“Right, of course,” Tom replied, squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Giving him a brief nod, you watched him leave and your eyes fell on Harrison, who just smirked at you.

“What?”

“You just have a little-“ Harrison wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb and when you mirrored his action, your thumb came away stained with red lipstick.

You flushed and bumped your shoulder into Harrison’s on your way back inside, while he followed you clutching his stomach in laughter.

The rest of the night passed in kind of a blur, you sipping on your wine and joking around with the boys, getting introduced to Tom’s costars, while you and him were constantly searching for each other at the crowded party, exchanging smiles and winks.

Honestly, you were still as clueless as you were five hours before. He liked you. You liked him. You agreed to stay friends for now. And then he kissed you. And now you were back at the beginning. You haven’t found another opportunity for you two to talk and you were already headed home the next morning, you were aware of how little time you had left.

The party was nearing its end, guests slowly trickling out and you were at your fourth wine glass, feeling the buzz of it faintly.

“You ready to go?” Sam asked, leaning against the counter.

“What? Do you mean if I am ready to return to my old life where I’m not treated as a VIP anymore?” you joked and he cracked a smile, shaking his head.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine Y/N. We don’t want it to get to your head.”

“Har har,” you scoffed and pushed your chair back, getting up. “Is Tom coming with us?”

Sam looked around the room, squinting his eyes as if that would help him spot Tom in midst of the crowd of people. “I don’t think so? I haven’t seen him for a while either.”

You deflated a bit and he raised an eyebrow at you, making you flush a bit. Out of the five boys you had spent the least time with Sam, so you weren’t sure where you stood with him. It wasn’t because you didn’t like him, he wasn’t just as easy to approach to as the rest of them. 

He was more timid than the rest of them. Which wasn’t that hard, the rest of them were extremely extroverted.

“Sooo a little birdie told me that you guys were caught in a rather… Dicey situation,” Sam said and you scoffed, turning your head away in embarrassment. So he was a dumbass, just like the rest of them. Good to know. You knew how to handle those.

“You don’t even need to be so cryptic, I know Harrison told you guys.”

“What did I tell whom?”

You groaned and put your head on the counter when Harry and Harrison joined you. Well, this was going to be fun.

“You told me that Tom and Y/N were snogging,” Sam reminded the blonde and Harry gasped, hitting your arm repeatedly in mock offense. 

“You guys kissed?! Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Could you guys stop yelling?” You hissed, glaring at them.  “I don’t need everyone to know about this.”

“You like him right?”

Surprised at that question, you looked at Sam, thinking he was joking, but his eyebrows were drawn too tight for him to be joking.

“What? Yeah of course I do.”

Harrison rubbed your shoulder comfortingly, his joke-y manner from seconds earlier vanishing into thin air. 

“Hey, we weren’t asking to offend you,” he said. “Tom just- He doesn’t have the best dating history. And it’s been hard for him date ever since he’s got all eyes on him. It doesn’t help that he falls in love like he does everything else: fast, without thinking and all of his heart.”

“Hold on, wait a minute,” you interrupted Harrison, holding a hand up, both to allow yourself to catch up and to ask for a clarification. You were still a bit hazy from all the wine and this seemed important. You wanted to understand all of it correctly.

“Falling in love? He just told me that he liked me and we had one kiss. Who’s even talking about falling in love?” 

“You know what I mean Y/N. I’m just trying to tell you to be honest with him,” Harrison sighed.

Are you seriously getting the shovel talk right now?

“Don’t play with his heart, okay?” Harry added.

Wow, you really were! But seeing their worried expressions refrained you from cracking a joke about it. This seemed to be genuinely important to them.

“I was honest and I always will be honest to him. And I really like him, okay? I just- want to do this slowly and the right way. We have time. We don’t need to rush anything,” you said, picking at your nails to avoid their piercing eyes.

“We weren’t expecting anything else,” Harrison told you and clapped your back playfully.

“So,” he started, clearing his face and judged by the grin on his face, the serious part of the conversation was over. “Who kissed whom?”

And you were right.

“Were you guys just kissing or actually snogging?” 

“Was it good?”

“On a scale of he was slobbering like a dog to the kiss was so good you’re swooning about it to your best friend, what ranking would you give the kiss?”

“Oh my god!”

Before any of the boys could pressure you into answering those ridiculous questions, Harrison’s phone beeped and his eyebrows when he checked it, eyes scanning the screen.

“Our car is here, Tom said we should get Y/N back to her hotel first and then head home,” he told you and you frowned at that. While you grabbed your stuff to leave, you looked around everywhere, trying to find Tom, but you were unsuccessful.

Whipping your phone out, you opened your text chain with Tom, your fingers swiping over the screen.

You: Hey, are you coming with us?

You then proceeded to stare at the screen for a couple minutes, but the status of the message never changed to read. 

“Hey Y/N, our car is here!” 

“I’m coming!” You yelled back and slipped your phone into your purse, hurrying outside to climb into the open car door. 

“Were you looking for Tom?” Harry asked and you nodded, leaning back in your seat. You really had to work on your poker face.

“He said he had to take care of something important and will be home later,” Harrison said. 

“Makes sense,” you sighed and leaned your head back on the headrest of the seat, closing your eyes. You hadn’t realized how tired you actually were.

As the driver stopped in front of the hotel, you looked at the three boys with a heavy heart. The bad thing about getting along so well with all of them was that it made saying goodbye so much harder. 

“Oh jeez, look at you,” Harrison groaned and you frowned, pursing your lips. 

“What?” You asked defensively. 

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Sam said as the three of them unbuckled themselves.

“We’ll bring you to your room,” Harry announced and shooed you out of the car. 

“You guys realize we’re parked literally in front of the hotel, right?”

The boys waved it off while the four of you walked inside the well-lit hotel, headed straight for the elevator. 

“Yeah but Tom would never forgive us if anything happened to you,” Harrison shrugged and you snorted, turning away to press the button to the elevator and hide your pink cheeks at the same time. 

“Don’t be stupid,” you huffed and stepped into the elevator when the doors opened smoothly. 

Harry snorted and leaned against the carpeted wall. “You’re the one being stupid. Three out of four people agree on that.”                                                  

“Damn I’m really not going to miss you trying to roast me,” you sighed and exited the elevator, striding to your room door with big steps.

“Oh please,” Harrison scoffed, hurrying after you with the twins in tow. “One week without us and you’ll wish we’ll be there to annoy you.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you unlocked your door and glanced back at the boys, smiling at them. 

“Thanks for bringing me up,” you said softly and the twins grinned at you. You hugged each of them tightly and Harrison rubbed your back when it was his turn. 

“I’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough,” he whispered and you wished it were true. You wished for a deep friendship to blossom between all of you, but you were a realist. You knew that there was no way a friendship like that could be possible. How would it? You lived in completely different countries, lead completely different lives and ran in different social circles.

Pulling away, you teared up a bit to your embarrassment and Harry laughed, ruffling your hair. 

“Aw come on, don’t be sad, we can text and send each other memes all the time.”

“Yeah don’t be a stranger,” Sam said and you looked up to the ceiling to blink the tears away. Wow, how embarrassing.

“I’m not crying, there was something in my eye,” You mumbled out a lie and the boys laughed, waving as they walked to the elevator.

“Sleep tight, Y/N!”

“See you soon!”

Waving good bye, you shut the door with a long sigh, you before you fumbled around with your phone, checking the notifications as the screen lit up.

No new messages. 

“Ugh,” You groaned in frustration and tossed your purse on the bed. Yawning, you headed to the bathroom and stretched your stiff arms, before you stripped down and took off the make-up that has been sitting on your face and clogging up your pores. Sometimes you really asked yourself why you always bothered with it.

Your eyes kept glancing to your phone screen as you wiped the make-up off bit by bit, but by the time you threw a bunch of dirty cotton pads into the trash can, the phone still hadn’t made a noise.

Glaring at it, you stepped into the shower and shut the glass doors behind you, turning the water on. As you were slathering some shampoo on your head, you heard your phone give of a ping; followed by a second one. 

You stilled, the foam running down your hair and you contemplated getting out to get a quick peek at your phone, wondering if it was Tom finally getting back to you.

Turning the shower off, you grabbed a towel and dried your hand off, reaching for your phone, while the water was running down your body to form a puddle on the floor.

Luisa: Hey when are you landing tomorrow?🧐

Luisa: do you want to grab lunch/dinner after you land?

“Oh my god,” you moaned and put the phone on the counter, the screen facing down.

You haven’t been waiting for someone to text you like this since high school. It was like being sixteen year old again and waiting for your crush to finally text you the answer of your “what are you up you?” text. The only difference was, that you were (kind of) an adult now and you were waiting on a reply from Tom freaking Holland.

You got back in the shower, the foam running down your hair and finished washing yourself off before you got out again, wrapping yourself in a towel.

“Stop acting like a teenager,” you grumbled to yourself and grabbed your dirty clothes, returning to your bedroom. 

After putting your Pajamas on, and packing your suitcase, it was nearing one am and you climbed into bed with your phone in your hand (Tom still hasn’t texted you back).

You set your alarm for the next morning, before plugging the phone in and putting on the nightstand, snuggling in your bed.

The adrenaline from that day was still high, you couldn’t believe how much has happened: you had managed to make a fool of yourself in front Zendaya, got to watch the new Spider-Man movie and had Tom confess his feelings for you and you guys kissed! All in one day! 

Rubbing your eyes, you shut them tightly, hoping sleep would come soon and that maybe a text from Tom would be waiting for you in the morning.

As you were about to drift off, you heard your phone ping.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

You squeezed your eyes shut and even though your fingertips were burning, you waited for another second, not wanting to seem too eager before you turned around to grab your phone.

Tom: Hey sorry I had to take care of some important stuff, they wouldn’t let me leave with you x

Tom: I’m really sorry that I couldn’t get back to you earlier😪

Tom: did you get back home safely? x                                                                   

Your smile widened as you read over the texts, and you felt the relief spread through your body.

Honestly, you were starting to think he was ghosting you, maybe the kiss was bad or he met someone amazing. But you were glad that it was only your insecurities getting to you.

You: it’s okay, I get it. Important movie star and all

You: yes of course I did. Didn’t your brothers or haz tell you I did?

Your heart warmed the status of your messages immediately jumped from delivered to read, and the ellipses appeared on his side, before disappearing again. 

You almost dropped your phone when it suddenly rang and you saw Tom’s name flash across the screen.

“Hi Tom,” You said as you picked up your phone. 

You heard rustling from the other side of the line and you wondered if this was a pocket dial, before you finally heard him speak.

“Hey love, sorry I thought calling you would be easier,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. He sounded tired. 

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” You asked and sat up, turning the lamp on.

Tom sighed and in your mind you could see him running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, just tired. I forgot how stressful premieres can be. How did you like it though?”

You smiled and played with the thread of your blanket. “I had a lot of fun. Even without you running around me in circles like a headless chicken.”

He laughed and it made you feel warm all over.

“I’m sure Haz and the twins kept you entertained, huh?”

“Mhmh,” You hummed. “Them and every celebrity I ran into.”

A silence and you leaned back in your bed, unsure if you were supposed to say something.

“I know we didn’t finish our conversation,” he then said and you wrinkled your nose, remembering.

“Yeah, that was rather unfortunate.”

“Do you want me to come over right now? I just need to grab a shower,” he offered and you almost wanted to cry. This boy had so much on his plate right now and he was offering to come over at two am in the morning to talk.

“No, it’s fine. I know you’re tired. You should go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll bring you to the airport,” Tom replied, relief evident in his voice.

You smiled a small smile and closed your eyes. “Okay. Good night Tom.”

“Sleep well, love,” he said softly and you ended the call, falling back in your bed with a wistful sigh. You plugged your phone back in and rolled over in the bed, sleep soon catching up with you.

Your alarm woke you up too early for your taste, so you allowed yourself five minutes of snoozing before you forced yourself up to start getting ready and finish up packing.

You weren’t sure if you were excited to go back home or if the excitement came from knowing you were about to see Tom again, but you were humming while zipping up your suitcase. And it seemed like you were just in time, as a sharp knock sounded at the door, making you jump up.

Racing to the door, you opened it with a big smile, already talking a mile a minute.

“Hey, I thought we could grab some breakfast before-“ Your words died down when you saw an unfamiliar man stand in front of the door instead of Tom. He was wearing some sort of uniform, but you couldn’t quite tell what kind it was.

“Uhm, sorry, you must be at the wrong door,” you said awkwardly and the man frowned, peeking at his phone in his hand.

“Are you not Ms. Y/L/N?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. What could he possibly want from you?

“Yes. I am. And you are…?”

The man nodded and gave you a polite smile.

“You can call me Felix. I am here to pick you up for the airport.”

Wait, what?

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[seeingsomnalene]

Hoodies and Sweaters

erm...i had a lot of inspiration come at once...so

we interrupt your regular program of the kotlc cat au to bring you...

the squad with my personal hoodies and sweaters!

this might’ve been done before but...ya know maybe i have an original idea in here somewhere

mmmmm some general random stuff before we get into the art

the squad do a hoodie and sweater swap every week

the swap(tm) happens at havenfield, on the main floor

whoever gets there first lays down their hoodie/sweater

once someone else gets there, they also lay down their hoodie/sweater, the first person can take theirs and the second person can take the first persons

or they can wait for the others to get there, in hopes of getting their favourite

they can’t wear a hoodie/sweater they had the week before

everyone has their own favourite hoodie/sweater

there is a VICIOUS fight for their favourites every week

these fights include:

races to the leapmaster

tackling

pranking so the other cannot get there in time

sicking the bodyguards on one another

sometimes, to get revenge for something or other, someone steals someone else's favourite

these revenge attacks have lasted for weeks on end

oKAY SO i have drawn everyone in their favourite sweater/hoodie...which also belong to me irl so yeah, there’s only 4 but just pretend they have others in the mix okay.

i have also included pictures of me wearing the said hoodies/sweaters (with my face blocked out because i am child)

first up: the oversized beige one!

sophie and keefe both love this one

they FIGHT TO THE DEATH TO GET TO THIS ONE FIRST

ro and sandor get pretty involved a lot of the time

they love this one so much because of how oversized it is on both of them, especially sophie

keefe tends to leave stuff like crumpled up drawings in the pocket accidently, the squad has a collection of them

next: the champion one! yes, i know, i own champion, i sincerely apologize but anyways

tam and marellas favourite

these two get fiery (haha get it) over this hoodie

tams bangs have been singed in the past

tam always manages to leave the strings uneven, the squad rag on him constantly for this

this hoodie is slightly shorter than the rest, marella likes it that way because she gets kind of hot in the other ones

aaaaand here is this rainbow sweater!

dex and biana share a fondness for this one

dex doesn’t stand a chance against biana in physical combat, so he creates crazy plans involving tech to stop her getting to havenfield before him

biana has avoided this as much as she has fallen into his traps

although this sweater is pretty average sized, dex has kind of short arms so the sleeves are long on him

dex is so adorable sorry i just had to say that

finally, the fuzzy gray sweater!

linh and fitz love this one to death

IT’S SO FUZZY AND COZY

linh loves keeping animals under this sweater

fitz is such an adorable little dork in this

fitz was slightly hesitant to fight linh for this sweater, but soon enough they were both fighting as hard as they could to get this sweater

the squad made them make a pact that linh can’t dump water on fitz after if he gets the sweater because it happened every time he got it, no one liked miserable wet fitz

some final notes about the drawings!

i used the idea of giving everyone typical long elf ears, credit to @sophie-foster for that!

these may seem like ships but all these children are gay so...they ain’t lol

hands? didn’t have the energy to draw them past the construction lines n stuff

arms? broken and unproportional but once again didn’t have the energy

it’s overall not the best? still haven’t figured out my human style, just trying some new things so forgive the strangeness

biana and fitz! i know most of y’all headcanon them as a lot more tan than what i’ve drawn them as (i think), BUT i’ve been having some identity issues over my race lately, and how i cope sometimes! is projecting my race onto fictional characters! i also have an older brother so like...biana is a prime candidate lol

hope y’all enjoyed this, sketching 8 characters (humans/elves especially) is v tiring and i pulled an all nighter last night for no reason okay anyways bye lol

[harry-leroy]

Opera 2020: The Rake’s Progress (1/99) 

So I’m gonna do a little post for each of these operas that I watch and give some thoughts on it (kinda like I do when I finish a Shakespeare play, but possibly a little more organized? we’ll see...). I figured that I would start with The Rake’s Progress, since I am still interacting with that work, even though I listened to it at the end of 2019. I’m not going to do a post for Xerxes because I saw that opera nearly a year ago (so if anything, I’ll listen to it again once I’ve listened to the others). 

                                                             * * * 

Alright, y’all. I won’t lie. I’m a little obsessed with this work now. If you haven’t listened to The Rake’s Progress and you enjoy some opera, I highly suggest having a listen. There are also wonderfully staged performances that you can watch on YouTube that have been so fun for me to watch because I adore this opera. It’s just a fun, seductive, flirtatious thrill ride with tomfoolery and hell-raising for two and a half hours, (with an ending that seriously messes with my entire emotional state). 

In fact, I’ve enjoyed listening to this opera so much that I’ve begun to do research on the opera itself, as well as some academic questions related to the work. On a larger scale, this project that I’m unofficially undertaking involves the stock character of the rake and the literary (and possibly the musical)  imagination. It is something that I’ve only just begun working on, and am possibly poking at the idea for my thesis, but I am still unsure as I thought I would be doing that on something Shakespeare related. For now, I am looking at Stravinsky’s work (which premiered in 1951) under the lens of a few questions that I want to apply to other works as well (and these are just preliminary research questions - aka things that came into my head as things I wanted to think about - some of these might be rather dull): 

- What is it about The Rake’s Progress that excites us as an audience? To put it differently, what is it about that story that works? Is it the extravagant setting? The high-stakes hell-raising that takes us on a jostling roller-coaster ride to a 180 degree cliff face from which we have nowhere to go but down? Or is it the inevitable moral at the end? The relief that we’re not in the same position as Tom Rakewell? In experiencing Rakewell’s story second-hand, is there a kind of fascination there with looking in on a world that almost appears fantastical? Some combination of these? Which elements stand out more than others as being successful? 

- What inspires an author to make their main character a rake? What inspires them to go down the road of the ‘progress’ once more? Do these authors always have a restoration type setting in mind for their work? Why are we so easily able to move out of that time period? 

-Based on the different representations of the rake and his progress, can we develop a traditional trajectory for how his story will go down? Is it more similar to Hogarth’s artistic interpretation or more different? What changes have had to be made due to the circumstances under which the author wrote, or were made for other reasons? Were these changes successful considering the medium? 

For Stravinsky’s The Rake’s Progress, the work takes a kind of neoclassicist  approach, in which Stravinsky refers to the work as a “period-drama”. He intended for his opera to be set in an eighteenth-century setting, but from what I’ve seen being staged, it certainly has not remained that way. The elaborate restoration setting (something out of Hogarth) actually seems to reveal something interesting about the characters, and reveals that this opera is something quite post-modern. 

What happens in The Rake’s Progress is that we have some characters that are actually aware of their existence in the opera itself, some feeling somewhat trapped by that limit of just being in a show (in which their course is already set for them), and some taking it for what it is, or even taking advantage of it. Some characters are not aware of this at all. Tom becomes more and more aware of his existence as a character as the show goes on. He hopes that his written fate is a good one at the beginning, then in trying to take control of it in a state of maddened anxiety, destroys his other self (Nick) and subsequently goes mad. He falls into the first category of characters, as one who is trapped. Baba is totally aware that she’s just in an opera, and she’s going to make the best of it. She even recognizes it in her libretto during the epilogue (”Good people, just a moment”), “all men are mad, all they say and do is theatre”. She takes the situation for what it is. Nick takes control of it and like Tom, tests its limits, though that later comes to his downfall when he is dragged back down to hell for suddenly changing to rules and allowing Tom a chance to destroy him. He also laments this fact in the epilogue, “day in, day out, poor Shadow/ must do as he is bidden./ Many insist I do not exist./ At times I wish I didn’t”. However, this line comes across as more comedic than tragic. Anne and Trulove do not seem to recognize that they are only part of an opera, though this is somewhat contradictory given the nature of the epilogue in which the five primary characters sing a song very clearly addressing an audience who has been watching them this entire time, in which Tom has come back to life to do the same (clearly out of story-line). So not only does the epilogue help the moral of the story: “for idle hands, the devil finds work to do”, but it also shows that these characters are aware that they are characters and that they are putting on theatre. 

Another thing that has interested me was the relationship between Tom and Nick, and the possibility that Nick is a part of Tom, being his “Shadow”. This becomes somewhat complicated because on stage we see them as separate entities, separate bodies, and they sometimes act independently of one another. As far as the audience is concerned, they are two different characters, and visually they are two different people. However, when one applies the thought that Shadow is only just a part of Tom, all sorts of questions can arise. For me, it makes Tom an even more unstable character. Having done a little bit of score study, his lines are often tonally in opposition with the orchestra, or sometimes he’s so nervous that he doesn’t start right on the downbeat of a measure, but an eighth note behind it. This is especially apparent in the Graveyard scene. Additionally, Tom’s nervousness and instability is shown in his constant key-changes, the way his key pushes against the music played in the orchestra. In the first scene in which he is mad (”With roses crowned”), he sings Nick’s melody that he sang in the graveyard scene: three eighth notes followed by a dotted-eighth, sixteenth pattern, losing sight of his own melody that he had (which in itself was highly unstable, once again having many phrases that did not start right on the downbeat, though some did). 

Regardless of score study, the idea of having these two characters be a part of Tom almost makes me want to toy with the idea of Nick being a vision to him throughout, a vision that is more handsome, less hesitant, and more willing to exercise free-will. (I was joking earlier that Shadow’s either gotta be really creepy or really hot, but now I think it’s whether you want him to come across as a devil or as the other, more-reckless part of Tom). It makes me think that the whole graveyard scene could be some drawn out suicide attempt rather than an opposition between man and devil, which if allowed the luxury of a film version, could possibly be done. In such a case, it could be argued that Tom’s been on the verge of madness this entire time, but his destruction of Shadow finalizes it. However, again, having two figures on stage during that scene playing this elaborate card game would suggest that we are to imagine a card game with the devil, rather than a man imagining his other self threatening him. 

It also calls into question how much sympathy we should (or shouldn’t) have for Tom by the end. If we believe that he is cursed to madness by a devil figure, then perhaps he is more likely to gain our sympathy than if this was caused by his own hand pushing Shadow back into hell, or perhaps into non-existence as is mused by the epilogue. Furthermore, the opera does not end as Shadow is defeated, but after Tom’s (Adonis’s) death. In between these two deaths, we get a heartbreaking reunion between Tom and Anne, in which Tom as Adonis is asking his Venus for forgiveness. “What should I forgive?” she responds with almost too much innocence. Despite the fact that Anne was tossed aside during Tom’s wayward adventures in London, his love for her never seems to fade. Even when he is married to Baba (for that short and wild time), Anne is always in the back of his mind. In Bedlam, we are almost brought back to the Elysium of the woods. It’s almost out of a pastoral, but then we are bitterly reminded that these are no idyllic woods, but rather “a common darkness... in a night that never ends”. So perhaps the question is not of a moral choice of whether we should or should not have sympathy for Tom, but rather do we have sympathy for Tom. The answer for me will always be a yes, and I think that is one of many things that makes The Rake’s Progress an effective work. 

Of course, there are a lot more thoughts I have on this particular opera. The other posts about these operas that I’m going to be listening to will not be as long as this one. I’ve just taken a deep interest with The Rake’s Progress because, as I said before, it’s an absolute joy-ride. I highly recommend giving it a listen. There’s an excellent recording with Ian Bostridge as Tom Rakewell (and I am so upset that they didn’t make an entire production out of it because they should have - it’s scary good). There’s also a fun production on YouTube that was done in Aix in 2017 starring Paul Appleby and Julia Bullock that I love because it’s 9000% more extravagant than it needs to be, but I’m 9000% here for it. The staging is wonderful, to say the very least.

[nine-prcnt]

must be fate

request ; can i have a yanchen imagine where you guys meet at a concert and the next day, he’s upset because he didn’t get your number so he goes to the cafe and sees you there & he’s like “wow this is fate.”

requested by ; @yanjuniverse

The weather forecast had said that it was supposed to be close to freezing but you couldnt feel it, not with the adrenaline that was rushing through your veins.

You were never one for crowds, one reason being they made you feel ill, never knowing what could go wrong. Today however, you pushed past your limits because your favourite artist was having a concert in your hometown. You felt like you just had to go, otherwise something would slip through your fingers.

You had bought your tickets early, managing to get one for the front section of the arena. Now you just needed to arrive early to get a good place near the stage.

You were one of the first in the line and once the bulk of people arrived, there was a palpable buzz of excitement in the air. 

Each second and minute passing you could feel your heart slowly rising. With every beat, your heart threatened leap out of your chest. 

One of the girls ahead of you, who introduced herself as Mai, had started to talk to you, and you bonded over your favourite songs and stages. She looked down at her phone, checking the time and frowning.

When you asked her what was wrong she told you that her brother was supposed to be coming as well but he was running behind schedule. 

It eventually came time to let everyone in to the arena and her brother hadn’t arrived yet. The first two people had already been let in. 

‘Mai!’ 

The two of you turn at the sound of her name and there, running up to you, is one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Everything about him looked perfect and effortless, from his clothes to his hair and smile, by god his smile. You thought that the heavens had opened and for a moment, you could have sworn angels were singing. 

There was one more person inbetween Mai and the front of the line. 

‘This is Yanchen, and Yanchen, this is Y/N.’ 

He turned to you and smiled again. You noticed that he was wearing glasses just then and if anything you thought that they made him look more handsome. 

‘I didn’t know my sister was bringing a friend.’

‘Oh no, we just met in the line.’

The three of you show your tickets to the security and you’re in. 

‘This is where we say goodbye.’

‘Yeah enjoy the show!’

Only Yanchen looked confused. 

‘Ah you’re in a different section.’

You showed him your ticket and couldn’t stop the small jump that took over your body when your hands touched each other.

‘I had it in my head that you were in our section. That’s too bad Y/N.’

The three of you headed your separate ways and you enjoyed the concert, except the thought of Mai’s brother kept drifting through your mind. 

By the time you got home, the only one up was your dog and you had to quickly quiet him down before he woke up your roommate along with the entire floor. You slept quickly and by the time you were awake your roommate had left for work already. You discovered a note on the countertop. 

‘Swing by my workplace at lunch! I want to hear about last night!’

Now your day had already been planned for you but you didn’t mind. 

-

Yanchen on the other hand just couldn’t shake you. His mind was filled with that first glimpse he caught of you. He asked his sister whether or not she had gotten your sns or even your number but she said that she hadn’t, to both of your disappointment. And even though he had admitted to himself that you were gone, his mind said otherwise. 

The next day he was at practice again in the company and the boys noticed his unusually quiet demeanor. Hep paid attention during class but in between when Xiao Gui and Xingjie would mess around, he didn’t have the slightest reaction. 

‘What happened at that concert last night? Was your sister mad at you because you were late?’

He shook his head. 

‘Well yes she was, but not that much. She met someone in the line.’

‘Oh.’ 

The boys fell silent. That is until Xiao Gui spoke up.

‘Did she or did you?’

There had been something about his expression that Xiao Gui couldn’t pin, some reflection in his eyes or a quirk of his lip that told him there was more than what he was saying. 

‘It’s nothing. Let’s go get some coffee before we waste our break.’

The four of them went to their usual cafe, about a block away from Gramarie. It had warm atmosphere with the soft steam of hot coffee dispersing into the air and the comforting beats and keys of lofi. 

Yankai and Xiao Gui went up to order, per usual but really it was Yankai. 

‘So, tell me about this person.’

Yanchen lifted his head up to look at Xingjie but his gaze was drawn behind him where you were sat. 

-

You usually never came until closing, if you ever came at all. It was slightly foreign to you, seeing all of the people in the booths and sitting at the raised counters on bar stools. The booth you would sit in was free to your relief. It was towards the back, next to the staff only door. 

You stared out the window, watching the people go past and creating different stories for each of them that caught your eye. You only broke your focus to take a sip of your hot chocolate. A vibration and flash of your phone screenshowed you a text from your cousin and the time. Two more minutes until your roommate was on break. 

You glanced at the seat opposite as it was filled. Not by your roommate but instead the grinning face of Yanchen. 

‘Hi, I hope you don’t mind but, uh...’ 

His whole being froze as you looked at him, suddenly nervous under the curious gaze you had. 

‘Could I get your number?’

When you didn’t respond he started to ramble. 

‘I know you’re probably here to meet your partner but you seemed really nice and honestly i would love to just be your friend and-’

You take his phone from his hand and replace it with yours. Once you typed in your number and his friend had managed to type his into your phone because he was still in shock, a younger boy took him by the arm and sat him into their booth. You smiled to yourself. 

‘Why are you being creepy, smiling all by yourself?’

Yanchen couldn’t wipe his smile from his face and if anything it only got wider when on the way back to practice he checked your contact. 

In the notes it read, ‘btw i’m single c;’

Okay so something is up with today I’m super productive??? and ugh i love this request thank you meg c: i had another way to do it in my mind but this one came first so i just rolled with it! also this is a written scenario?? ayyyy first one! i haven’t written like this in ages but im praying that y’all think it’s okaay 

side note : i’m seriously in love with yanchen. what an angel. 

-xinru

masterlist // rules

[abunchofsemicoherentwords]

What are roommates for?

Summary: She has an Anatomy exam tomorrow that is really important. Tom and Haz, being the wonderful roommates they are, take good care of her.

Pairings: Reader (?) x Tom Holland x Haz Osterfield 

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None?

A/n:  I could have used roomies like this (Tom and Haz specifically, is what i mean) when I was dying over exams two weeks ago tbh. Man I hope you guys enjoy this, its been like a month and a half in the making. It’s basically a fluffy domestic piece and I really pray to god its not boring af :/ This part of @spxderman-s and I’s Roommates Collection. We’d love to hear what you guys think of that, our collection. Any requests or ideas maybe? Anyways, hope y’all like this and I’m so sorry it took me so long to get something posted, I appreciate your patience x

Masterlist

She came out of her room, messy bun drooping to one side, feet dragging with each step. It was late. She rubbed her temples with one hand, her empty mug loosely grasped in the other. She was drained. She had one final exam tomorrow – Anatomy, her worst subject. Despite managing to ace all her assignments throughout the semester, this exam would determine whether she passed or failed.

Stupid exams worth 70%. Ugh.

She heard the television playing quietly in the living room and found herself wandering in, drawn to the emanating light like a moth. She needed a break anyway. Harrison was on the couch, a Friends rerun playing in the background as he scrolled through his phone. She flopped down beside him with a heavy sigh.

“How’s the study going?” he asked, locking his phone and turning to her.

“I just can’t wait for this thing to be over,” she groaned.

“You’ve been studying your ass off for the past fortnight. If anyone is going to ace it, it’s you,” he encouraged, patting her leg.

“Thanks, Haz,” she smiled half-heartedly.

“You look really tired though, shouldn’t you sleep?” he questioned, voice full of concern.

“I should. I feel a headache coming on, but I feel like there’s mo–,” he cut her off.

“Nu-uh, no more; you’ve studied as much as you possibly can. You literally can’t cram any more information into that brain,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You know everything. You’re going to nail it tomorrow, ok? I believe in you. And so does Tom.”

“Now, I’m going to make you some tea, and then you gotta go to bed, alright?” he finished, standing up and taking her mug.

She nodded helplessly, accepting his truth. As he left, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She settled in, watching Chandler and his own roommate, Joey, up to their usual antics.

Not too long after, Haz returned with a steaming cup of tea. He lowered it into her outstretched hands and sat back down beside her, careful not to spill the hot liquid.

“I added some honey and lemon, I know that’s how you like it.”

“Thanks,” she smiled gratefully, taking a sip.

“No problem.”

When her cup was empty, she placed it on the stool and snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

“How’s your head?”

“Better.”

“Good,” he leaned his own head atop hers.

As she watched the television absentmindedly, her eyelids began to feel heavy. She strained to keep them open, before she finally gave in, closing them and stilling her mind. She fell asleep, snoring softly.

As the credits started rolling, Tom walked in. He noticed that she was asleep and gestured at Harrison.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s really tired,” he responded in a whisper. “Can you put her to bed? I don’t want to wake her.”

Tom walked up to them and slowly slipped his arms beneath her knees and around her shoulders. He gently picked her up, so as not to interrupt her sleep. As he cradled her against his chest, she nuzzled her face into his neck, seeking warmth. She seemed so small, curled up in his arms. He carried her to her bedroom where Harrison pulled back the covers of the bed. Tom lay her down and she turned onto her side into a more comfortable position. He tucked the covers around her and stroked the loose strands of hair out of her face.

“Goodnight, love.”

The boys tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“Poor thing, she’s exhausted. I’ll be glad when she’s done tomorrow,” Harrison said sympathetically.

“We should do something tomorrow night.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, a movie night or something? Just buy all her favourite stuff and watch whatever she wants,” Tom suggested.

“She’d love that,” Haz agreed.

“Sweet, it’s sorted then.”                                                

*

The blaring alarm woke her with a start. She poked the screen blindly until it shut off. Snoozed for nine minutes. Warm and cosy under the covers, she sunk a little further and drifted off again.

The second alarm made her sit up straight, disoriented. She checked the time as she turned it off. She had four hours before her exam, plenty of time to get a little extra revision in. Clambering out of bed, she headed straight for the kitchen to make herself some coffee. She wasn’t normally a coffee drinker, but exam season was brutal and she needed all the help she could get.

Wafting down the hallway was not only the smell of freshly brewed coffee, but bacon as well.

“Mmmm,” she swept in through the doorway, mouth watering at the delicious smells.

“Hey, you’re up. How did you sleep?”

Harrison was at the stove, stirring eggs in a pan.

“Great, but I need coffee. And some eggs. And some bacon too, please,” she beamed.

He poured her a mug of coffee and handed it to her.

“Waffles, too?” he asked.

“Mmm yes, please. You’re too good to me, Harrison Osterfield.”

“Well, we need you at your best today. Don’t get used to this though, alright? It’s only because you have a super important exam.”

She poked her tongue out at him as she took the heaped plate. She was pouring maple syrup when Tom walked in. He yawned, rubbing his eyes and pushing his unruly curls to the side.

“Morning,” she said to him cheerfully.

“Morning, love. You seem to be in a good mood… which is a little strange considering what today is.”

“I’m just excited to nearly be free, I guess.”

Tom took a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a coffee.

“What are your plans? Anything special?”

“Mm, not really, I might just sleep,” she shrugged, scooping a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“Fair enough,” Tom nodded, taking a sip from his steaming mug.

“What time do you finish?” Haz asked, sitting next to her at the counter.

“4:30.”

“I’ll pick you up after your exam,” Tom said.

“What, no, you don’t have to do that.”

She stood and picked up her plate.

“I’ll just catch the train home.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “You’ll be burnt out after your exam; I’ll pick you up. We can grab dinner on the way home, it’s no biggie.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way,” she was still unconvinced.

“Yes, I promise, it’s totally fine. I’m happy to do it. What are roommates for?”

“Okay, fine,” she laughed, rinsing her plate and mug at the sink.

“Thanks for breakfast, Haz.”

As she moved past him to the door, she gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Anytime.”

“Where’s my kiss?”

She turned to a pouting Tom.

“Oh, sorry, kisses are reserved for those who actually do things for me.”

“What? I just offered to pick you up.”

“Ah, but you haven’t picked me up yet,” she pointed out.

Haz sneered as she spun on her heel and left.

“I see how it is,” Tom grumbled, finishing his coffee.

“Smooth, mate.”

“Shut up, Harrison.”

*

“Students, you have five minutes remaining,” a monotonous female voice rang over the speaker system.

Crap.

She reread the last couple of lines she had written before hurriedly adding a concluding statement to her answer. Her hand cramped and she shook it vigorously. Oh come on, not now. She had one question left. Almost done.

Three marks, three key points. She knew the answer to this one. She scribbled out a short paragraph. God, please let them be able to read my handwriting. The muscles in her hand were tight as she released the pen from her grip, having stabbed a full stop onto the page. She flicked through her exam in the last two minutes, making sure she hadn’t missed anything.

“Pens down, students. Your time is up. Anyone caught writing after this time will immediately be given a fail.”

She fell back in her chair with a sigh of relief. Done.

Ten minutes later she was outside, allowing the filtered sun to shine down on her. She faced the great hall in which she had sat so many exams. Ugh.

Turning away, she walked down to the street, checking her phone. There was a message from Tom. He was parked near the fountain. She made her way there, spotting his car immediately. She strode over and swung open the door, getting in.

“Hey, how was it?”

She pulled the door shut and looked down at her lap.

“Not great,” she said forlornly.

“Aw no, what happened, love?”

He waited for her to answer, ready to offer comforting words.

A grin spread across her face and she looked at him, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty sure I totally nailed it.”

Her contagious joy spread and he grinned too.

“Yeah! See? I knew you could do it,” he raised his hand for a hi-five. She slapped her palm against his.

“Couldn’t have done it without the support of my loving roommates,” she nudged him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he started the car.

“Seatbelt,” he reminded as he checked for traffic. She pulled the strap over her body and clicked it into place.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked. “I’m starving.”

“Up to you. What do you feel like?”

“Pizza, duh.”

“Of course, how stupid of me.”

“Tom, if there is ever a day where you ask me what I want and I don’t say pizza, please know something is very wrong.”

“Yes, princess,” he teased, rolling his eyes at her dramatic words.

*

Soon after, they were walking through their front door.

“We’re home,” she sing-songed.

“Haz! Guess what?” Tom called out.

“I’m in here,” came a shout from the living room.

She and Tom took off their coats and went in. They found him with a stack of blankets and pillows so high, only the top of his blond quiff was visible. He dropped the pile onto the sofa with a huff and put his hands on his hips.

“So?” he asked, looking between the pair.

“Our girl totally nailed the exam, Anatomy has got nothing on her,” Tom answered proudly.

“Well done, babe! I knew you could do it.”

He stepped over to her and gave her a hug.

“Thanks, Haz.”

“But, is, uh, someone sleeping on the couch tonight?” Her face expressed confusion at the heap of blankets.

“Actually, this is for you.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch?”

“No,” Haz shook his head.

“We’re celebrating,” Tom clarified. “We’re celebrating you finishing all your exams. We thought you’d like a night in, just the three of us.”

“It was Tom’s idea. We bought those sour strips you like, mini m&m’s-”

“Because they taste better,” Tom added excitedly.

“And ice cream. Plus you pick the movies.”

“Triple chocolate ice cream?”

“Definitely.”

She squealed. She threw her arms around their necks and pulled them into her.

“I love you guys!”

Upon release, she smiled broadly.

“You guys are actually the best. Thank you!”

“We know,” Tom said with mock arrogance.

“Get comfortable and choose something good. We’ll get the snacks.”

“Pizza should be here soon too.”

The boys left. When they returned, they were confronted with the sight of their roommate cocooned, head to toe, in fabric. She was scrolling through Netflix’s rom-com selection.

“What do you think of 27 Dresses?” she asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

“If that’s what you want,” Harrison replied, sitting on her left and opening the tub of cold dairy. He handed her a spoon and dug his own into it.

“It is. James Marsden is gorgeous,” she swooned.

“He is.”

She clicked play and spread the blankets over herself and Harrison’s laps. She held up one end of the covers.

“Hurry up, Tommy.”

He jumped in next to her and the three of them wiggled closer together. He held a piece of candy out to her whilst popping a piece in his own mouth.

Shortly into the beginning of the film, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Harrison handed her the ice cream and stood up.

She paused the movie as he left and looked at Tom.

“Thank you for this, and for picking me up today. It’s really sweet of you.”

“Anytime, darling.”

She leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek.

“I owed you.”

Harrison entered with the pizza, managing to catch the tail end of his roommates gazing at each other. He subtly smiled to himself.

*

Full stomachs, multiple bathroom breaks and a rom-com and 80’s adventure movie later, they were struggling to decide on a third film.

“Maybe we should just go to bed,” said one.

“It’s only nine o’clock. I’m not tired.”

“Me neither.”

“Nor me, to be honest.”

“Then what should we watch?”

“How about something Disney?”

“Yeah, I love Tangled!”

Two heads turned to look at Harrison in surprise.

“What? It’s a great movie about finding yourself and being your own person.”

“Right,” Tom said skeptically.

“I love it, too,” she declared. “Actually Haz, Mother Gothel kind of reminds me of you.”

“It’s the eyes, right? Same blue,” Tom teased.

“Absolutely,” they cracked up.

Muttering curses at them, Harrison reached over and picked up the ice cream. He shoved a spoonful into his mouth, brow knitted in annoyance.

“We’re just kidding, Haz,” she soothed. “I happen to think you have very pretty eyes.”

Having been appeased, he put the ice cream on the stool and shoved her into Tom.

“Move over.”

“Why?”

“I wanna lie down.”

“Fine.”

She and Tom scooted over, Tom into the corner with his body angled towards her. She pressed her back against his side, resting her head on his chest. He let his arm fall around her waist loosely, content to have her in such close proximity. Harrison shifted his body to lay down on what was left of the space. He rested his head on her knees. She grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his head, stroking his hair.

“Everyone comfy?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Uh-huh.”

He found Tangled and put it on.

By the time Rapunzel had discovered she was the lost princess, the three roommates, cuddled together, were fast asleep.

Tagging: @tommysdarlin @nadiacth @everythinguncharted @lionfart @settlebackeasy @johnmurphys-sass @bisexualmomfriend @tomrannosaurusholland @girlwith100names @jjgirl4797 @spideytomsbutt @spideyontherun @unfoxs @fandomscombine @oswald-1998 @spxderman-s @timemngmtoptimisationproblems

[tjroewrites]

The Winner Takes it All

Pairings: Castiel x Reader

A/N: The reader’s home life that is described in this pic is, in summary, mine So, this one-shot is pretty personal for me. Basically, I wrote down what I wish someone would say to me. But hearing it from myself was empowering enough. I hope anyone that lives in a similar situation reads this and hears what they need to hear to give them hope for their future. Thanks for reading, y’all.

Prompt: The reader and Castiel play a game of Uno. 

Warnings: Mentions of family death. Broken homes. A bit of angst (c’mon, you can’t be that surprised. This is me we’re talking about). Fluffy ending. 

Word Count: 2.7k

           Y/N slapped her card onto the table with a smirk. “Blue six.”

           Cas squinted his eyes. “My card was red. I thought the colors had to match.”

           “But both cards were a six.” She wagged her brows. “As long as the color or the number matches, it can be played. Doesn’t have to have both.”

            “This game is strange.”

           “Quit whining and play a card.”

           They were the only two in the bunker. Dean and Sam had left for a beer at one of the few bars within the Lebanon city limits. Y/N was still feeling the effects from last weekend, when Dean had suggested a ‘family outing.’ The next morning, she woke up on the bunker’s kitchen floor with her shirt on backwards and a half empty Coors Light still in her hand. Yeah, she needed a break after that one. And Cas wasn’t one to enjoy one of Dean’s buck-wild escapades. So, there they were, seated across from one another at the table in the middle of the bunker; Y/N sipping on a soda while Cas watched. When Y/N had suggested a round of Uno and he had looked at her like she was speaking in tongues, she knew what their night would consist of. Dean and Sam would go wild in the Kansas streets. Y/N would school Cas in the art of a classic card game.

           Cas searched his hand before settling on one. He gently slid a yellow six on top of her card. “Is that allowed?”

           “There you go.” Y/N smiled. She played a yellow two. “See, you’re getting the hang of it.”

           “Human games are so intricate. There are so many rules.”

           “Angels don’t play games up in heaven?” She watched him sift through his cards and plan out his next move. His eyebrows furrowed. His head tilted slightly. His lips moved in a subtle fashion as thousands of strategies played through his mind. Everything he did, no matter if it was researching a monster or washing his hands, he put so much thought into. So much effort. Less because he needed to, more because he actually cared about the outcome. There wasn’t a man on the planet with more compassion and drive than Castiel. She took another sip of soda to hide her smile. “What do you do to pass the time, then? Twiddle your thumbs?”

           “We don’t have thumbs.” He placed a card. A yellow four. “We have wings.”

           “You know what I mean.”

           “Time is not so much of a concept in heaven as it is on Earth.” Y/N picked through her cards. She settled on a green two. “Thousands of earth years could pass and it would feel like nothing to an angel. I have lived for millennia and it feels similar to a blink of a human eye.”

           “So, these last few years on earth have probably drug on for you.”

           “Yes.” His eyes darted from the card she placed and back to his hand. “But not in the way you think. I have enjoyed my time on Earth. Regardless of the obstacles and trials I have faced.”

           “You don’t have a card to play, do you?” Y/N quirked a brow.

           He sighed. “What happens now?”

           “Draw from the deck ‘til you do.”

           He began to pull from the pile one by one. He huffed out a breath after the third card. “None of these are suitable to play.”

           “Then keep going.” Y/N snorted.

            He grumbled something under his breath.

            “Come again?” She asked. A grin split her face. He was a sore loser. How adorable.

            “I said, this game is frustrating.” The tight line of his lips relaxed after the fifth card. “Finally.” He all but threw the card on the pile. A green eight. “I have bones to pick with the creator of this game.”

            Y/N laughed. “I’m sure he’d love to sit down with an Angel of the Lord and discuss his family-based card game.”

            “Family.” He repeated, training his eyes on her. “Did you play this game with your family?”

            Her family. Memories of her early life came pouring through her mind like a freshly thrown flood gate. Her baby sister’s smile. Her father’s laugh. Her mother’s hugs. It felt like yesterday that she was still living at home, attending the local community college and working at a sandwich shop. Now, she was a hunter; living in an air-tight vault in the center of the states with two problematic brothers and a fallen angel. It wasn’t what she pictured her future to be like. She wondered if her father would have been proud of her. She sniffed. “My dad wasn’t one for card games. Unless it involved sports of some kind.”

            “He was an athlete?”

            “Best golfer in the state.” Damn, she didn’t have anything. She drew a card from the pile. A wild card. She placed it on the table. “I choose red.”

            He tilted his head. “We can choose colors?”

            “Only if it’s a wild card.” She pointed at her play. “If you play this card, you can choose the color. In this case, I choose red.”

            “So that is what that card is.” He muttered, a smile playing on his lips. Oh, no. She didn’t like that look. He cleared his throat and let his face fall into that same expressionless stare he was so good at. “You said the card is red?”

            Y/N nodded. He studied his hand for a moment before speaking again. “You said your father golfed. As an occupation or for leisure?”

            “Leisure. Could have gone pro in his younger years. But he married my mom instead.”

            “So, he chose your mother over his athletics.” He put down a red card. It was a skip. “I assume this is playable.”

            “It’s a skip turn card.” Y/N must have been speaking in tongues again by how he looked at her. She chuckled. “It means that the next player can’t go until next round. Since there’s only two of us, you get to go twice.”

            “I see.” Cas’ lip pulled in the corner. “Did he regret his decision?”

            She hesitated for a moment. “Sometimes, I think he did.” He looked up at her from his hand of cards. The lump in her throat swelled a bit more. It took a couple of hearty swallows just to push it down. “Don’t get me wrong, he loved my sister and I. Raised us up right and made sure we had food on the table. But him and my mom… they couldn’t ever sort the shit out in their marriage. I can’t remember them saying that they loved each other one time in my life.” This was not how she imagined this conversation to pan out. Judging by the way his eyes nearly rolled out of his head, neither had he. “Jesus, I’m sorry, that’s some deep shit right there. I haven’t even mentioned that to Dean or Sam yet.”

            Cas began to set the cards down onto the table. “Y/N, we don’t have to- “

            “No, no, it’s not that I don’t wanna tell you.” She straightened up in her chair and cleared her throat. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve even talked to anyone about that. Kinda weird to hear it out of my mouth again, you know?”

            “I think I do.” He lifted the cards once again but didn’t take his eyes off her. “I appreciate you sharing with me. Self-disclosing about such affairs can be…difficult. If not painful.”

            “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” His stare returned back to his cards. Hers didn’t. “It was so long ago. Years. But sometimes when I look back it feels like last week.”

            “When was the last time you saw your family?” He played another card. A wild draw four. That bastard. “Green.” He offered a smug smirk.

            Y/N groaned and drew four more cards. “Had to have been at least five years ago. Before I was a hunter.”

            “Do they know that you live this life?”

            “Never got to tell them. They died a few months later.”

            She didn’t want to see his expression, so she looked back at her hand. She had nine cards now, thanks to Cas. Four reds, a yellow skip, a blue switch, two regular blues and one green. She placed the green card.

            “That’s why I became a hunter in the first place.” Y/N continued. “I left home to try and find myself. Traveled around the state for a while. Met some new people. Saw some great cities. I felt like the life I had been living wasn’t leading me anywhere. Figures, the second I leave…”  She trailed off, her gaze flying to the ceiling. Her eyes burned hot behind her eyelids. Damn it, not right now. Not in front of Cas.

            “It isn’t your fault.” He finally said, placing another card. A green zero. “How could you have known?”

            “I should’ve been there to protect them.” She drew two cards until she found one playable. A yellow zero. “If I hadn’t left for my stupid fucking adventure, they’d still be here.”

            “You can’t think like that.” A wild card. “Green.”

            “Jesus, you got any greens in your hand or what?” She had to draw three until she found one. He cracked a smile. “You’re killing me over here.”

            “Quit whining and play a card.” He threw her words back in her face. Y/N snorted.

            “Easy to be the bigger person when you don’t have half the deck in your hand.”

            Their sudden silence seemed to echo off the walls of the bunker for a lifetime. Cas played a green nine. Y/N played a blue nine. Cas put down a wild draw two. Y/N tried not to flip the table. Who the fuck shuffled this deck? She had just drawn two when he broke the quiet moment. “Y/N?”

            “Yeah?”

            “You said that your parents did not love one another.”

            “Still hung up on that, huh?” She scanned her hand with the utmost concentration. She had at least fifteen cards now. He had five. She had to buckle down if she wanted to win this one. “Like I said, not a big deal. I’m an adult now. I don’t give it much thought.”

            “Are you afraid that will happen to you?”

            Her heart sputtered in her chest. She knew what he was referring to. For their ‘family outing’ last weekend, they had settled in at Pooches bar near the center of town. It was the only pub that got rowdy on Friday nights. A few drinks in and, as usual, Y/N had started to feel it. It was about then that a young farm hand began to chat her up: bought a round, spun her around the dance floor, let her beat his ass in a game of pool. He was easy on the eye. Genuine. Respectful. The kind of guy you bring home to meet your folks. It was clear he was more interested in getting to know her than he was in a quick fuck and leave. It wasn’t the first time she met a guy like that. Lebanon may be smack dab on the corner of ‘redneck’ and ‘blue collar’ but it sure bred some wholesome men. But even after knowing all that, she still couldn’t open up. Still couldn’t put herself out there. So, just like every other guy, she slipped out without hardly a goodbye. Left him out to dry like a line of fresh laundry on a summer’s eve.

            Was she afraid? She’d never thought about it like that. Thought it was just the down side of being her father’s daughter. Let as few people into your inner circle as possible. Easier to live that way. But maybe it came from somewhere deeper. Deeper than her father’s lessons and her natural God-given beliefs. A part of her that she could never outrun, no matter many miles she drove.

            “Maybe.” She wasn’t sure he’d even heard it. What a stupid thought. Of course he did. He was an angel.

            Cas looked at her. Really looked at her. The kind of look that every girl dreamed a man would give her. A gaze so soft, a pool of blue coating her in his warmth and protection. An entire summer sky shone back at her. Her breath caught. “Why?”

            “Because my parents- “

           “You are not your parents.” His cards lay abandoned on the table. She hardly blinked before he was in the chair beside her, his fingers around her wrist and squeezing gently. Together, they lowered her cards to the table. “You are your own person. Your parents’ way of life does not dictate your future.”

            Y/N couldn’t formulate a sentence. So, he continued.

            “They made their choice. That was theirs to make. It isn’t your fault that they ended up that way. No matter how much you blame yourself.” She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear his words until he spoke them. Tears pooled in her eyes. “You can’t punish yourself for their actions. You are free to make your own choices. Have your own experiences. Fall in love, take risks, enjoy what this life has to offer you.”

            When she nodded, the floodgates opened. Years of buildup fell from eyes and trailed down her cheeks. He held her face in his hands and wiped them away with his thumbs. “You are an independent woman, Y/N. A strong and comforting force in this world of uncertainty. A bright light in the dark. You are capable of anything and everything.”

            There were a select few that knew about her family history. Her best friend from community college. That random gas station attendant she had broken down in front of on her way back from her family’s service. Her long-lost aunt who had moved to the United Kingdom a year after her sister’s passing without hardly a goodbye. But none had really understood where she was coming from. Bruce from the Gas n’ Sip just offered her a Cola and an awkward one-armed hug. Christine had forced six tequila shots down her throat to numb the pain. Her aunt just avoided it all together. But Cas… he understood. The force of heaven was hardly the traditional ‘Nuclear Family’ ideal. His entire existence was full of nothing but inner-family conflict. He was derived from chaos. He was chaos. But wasn’t that all she was, too?

            “So, what’s next for the great Y/N Y/L/N?” His voice was a rumble from his chest. Like the gentle roll of thunder during a summer storm. Truly a phenomenon worth experiencing. Worth knowing. And just like that, she knew exactly what was next.

            When their lips met it was exactly how she imagined it. Soft. Fleeting. Unhurried. Natural. If it had been an hour before she would have ducked away with a beet red face and a mouth full of apologies. But not now. She was too far gone to care. She had no apologies to offer.

            They pulled away. And then he smiled. That rare, toothy smile that showed a mixture of both Jimmy’s time and his own. Enough to make her forget everything. Enough to give her hope.

            “You are.” She pushed her chair until their thighs sat flush against each other. Their lips all but touching. Her fingers finding the hair at the nape of his neck. “You are my next adventure.”

            The next morning, when the brothers asked about their night, it was with groggy voices and steaming cups of coffee. Cas sat in his original seat from their game of Uno and watched Y/N clean the forgotten cards from the table.

            “Looks like the game ended with a bang.” Sam nodded toward the remaining cards scattered across the wood. She finished packing them inside their box and closed the flap. “Who won?”

            Cas met her stare. He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. The boys hadn’t noticed his mis-matched buttons or his crooked tie. Not yet, anyway. Y/N just shrugged.

            “Me.” She smiled. “Definitely me.”

Castiel Tags: (not sure if this is how it works, bear with me)

@kristendansmith

[prettyboy-jimin]

Cosy

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Cheesy Fluff

Summary: You spend a day in with Jin and it turns out to be one of your best ever

Note: Y’all I think you should really owe it to my friends for all these concepts because my creativity is dead unless they ask me to make something for them and therefore making something for you in the process (im kidding) but yeah! This little baby was born because my good friend couldn’t find enough Jin fics on here and I wanted to change that <3

“Jin… Jin wake up” you whispered, your chin perched on top of your folded hands, of which were resting on his shoulder as you watched the sunlight grace his face gently.

It was early, too early for people like you and Jin to be awake at all but you couldn’t contain your excitement for what the day held for you.

You moved closer, careful not to put too much weight on him as your lips brushed his jaw gently.

“Jiiiiin” you said a little louder, peppering his jawline and cheek with soft kisses and he began to stir from his sleep. “Jin, come on”

Your left hand found its way to the middle of his chest, the soft material of the white shirt he slept in tickled a little, but his soft groan didn’t go unnoticed despite this.

He grumbled your name as you moved off of him and he turned his body to face you, eyes still closed but mouth stretched in a smile.

“What is it?” He asked, cracking one open and taking a peek at you as you bit your lip. “What time is it?”

“Five to seven”

“It’s too early to be awake” He pouted, moving himself closer and nuzzling into your neck as he pulled the covers higher over the both of you.

You held him, relocating your chin to the top of his head as he heaved a contented sigh. “I really don’t want to get out of bed.”

“But you promised we’d have a photo shoot at the park today”

Jin groaned against you, the vibrations tickling your neck as you tried to wiggle away from him. Jin laughed along, tightening his hold around you, keeping you near. The white sheets rustled and crumpled in on itself as your and Jin’s frantic movements made them scatter around you. You squealed, trying desperately to escape his warm threatening hands. It takes you nearly falling off the edge of the mattress for Jin to finally calm down, promising you good behavior as he securely snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him again.

“Can we please stay in today?” He asked; voice gentle and full of hope. You understood why he wanted to stay in so much, Jin’s schedule barely gave him any time to spend with you at all so these kinds of days were the rare ones; the ones you scarcely got to enjoy. You and Jin always did what you wanted, a day-trip to the beach, a make-shift photo shoot even though he was sick and tired of them, cooking dinner for him and his friends the entire day, but you rarely just lied in bed and did nothing.

It wasn’t your style, neither was it Jin’s.

But you understood why he’d want such.

“Okay” You mumbled, more than happy to just lie in his arms all day “Today, we do whatever you want.”

You kissed his shoulder chastely, proceeding to settle your head back onto his bicep. Your arm lay to rest across his abdomen, his firm stomach rising and falling gently to the rhythm of his breathing.

Jin hummed contentedly beside you, his arm around your shoulders tightening out of habit and instinct, a routine he unconsciously knew all too well. You inhaled his scent, the faint remainder of his aftershave attested pleasing. Soon enough, Jin’s breathing evened out and the tiniest sound of his snoring reverberated from him and onto you. You couldn’t sleep though, at first it was because you were too excited for the day ahead, but you adrenaline levels didn’t change with the plans.

You stare at Jin’s free hand, lost in thought. You think of all the times you had held his hands, the amount of breakfasts, lunches, dinners and midnight snacks they’ve made, you think of all the times his hands have held you; resting on your hip, draped over your shoulder, cupping your cheek or supporting your neck, and you begin to blush as you think of all the nights where Jin’s hands held you. Having to clear your throat embarrassingly and shut your eyes tight to remove the image from your head. Thank goodness Jin was asleep again, if he asked, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie and even otherwise, he would still be able to see right through you.

You reach for his hand gently, interlacing your fingers with his. Sometimes you wished you could take photographs with your eyes, seeing angles and filters that your camera and editing software couldn’t. Times like this, staring at how little your hand was inside of Jin’s, how his were so much warmer than yours, and how—for some strange reason—his were so much softer than yours.

Jin groaned and shifted onto his side, enveloping you totally into his body as the hand you loosely held let go of you and wrapped around your shoulders instead. You let out a little yelp, caught off-guard at the sudden shift in movement. You smiled, resting your forehead again the top portion of his sternum.

“Even when you’re not even trying, I just keep falling for you, Jin.” You whispered into his skin, punctuating your secret confession with a gentle kiss.

Eventually, you fall asleep as well. Letting your eyes fall shut with your head against Jin’s shoulder.

You wake for the second time that morning to a lonely bed and the sheets draped over you. Rubbing your eyes as you sat up, you hear a faint rustling sound coming from the kitchen of your apartment. Striking a satisfying yawn, you threw the blankets off and swung your feet onto the floor, sleep staining your eyes and making them heavier than normal. You trudge into the bathroom, the lights Jin had installed behind the mirror already lit up. You reached for your toothbrush and got to your morning routine, ending such with a messy ponytail atop your head.

The smell of bacon and pancakes enveloped you as you stepped into the short hallway, emerging into the bright light that the drawn back curtains let in. You spot Jin half-hunched over the stove, probably flipping over bacon strips.

You creep up behind him, but knowing that he was cooking and holding something dangerously hot, you greeted him good morning before wrapping your small arms around his torso. You could feel his smile without needing to see it, you could hear the stretch of muscle in the way he said your name. You kissed his shoulder blade as you asked him what he was preparing, the usual morning conversation never seeming to get old.

“Your favourite”

“Yeah, I could smell it from down the hall” you laughed, raising an eyebrow as if you didn’t know that already.

As soon as Jin was done, you both ate in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances at each other, blushing and smiling like young teenagers. You helped Jin wash the dishes, originally offering to take care of them yourself since Jin was the one who cooked breakfast, but he contradicted.  

You soon found yourselves entangled in each other once again, Jin’s arm over your shoulder while the other interlaced its fingers with yours, all the while your free hand was tracing mindless shapes onto the fabric of his pant leg. You were watching reruns from old shows, currently on the episode where Jan Di shared a kiss with Ji Hoo on the beach, Jun Pyo soon finding them and therefore causing the story’s conflict.

“I wonder what it’s like to have people fight over you.” You wondered aloud.

“Trust me” Jin groaned, rolling his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh “It’s not fun”

You turn to him in surprise, your hair flying over your shoulder as you questioned him “You know how it feels?”

Jin smiled sheepishly, trying to come off as indifferent but you knew him too well for that.

“You realise I have millions of girls around the world squabbling over me right?” he laughed “I’m Mr. Worldwide Handsome.”

You pursed your lips in realisation, putting on a serious and stoic face.

“You’re right.” You said, Jin looked at you curiously, clearly not expecting you to agree like that. “I should break up with you to avoid any death threats, you’re too pretty for me anyway.”

At that, you let go of Jin’s hand and made your move to stand, actually just planning to go to the bathroom and shower but Jin pulled you back, gracefully maneuvering the both of you to have him hovering on top of your pinned down body. You gasped as your head hit the soft cushion of the couch, Jin’s face only millimeters above yours and you tried to suppress a smile.

“You’re not going anywhere.” he said, voice low and dripping with hidden meanings “You’re staying right here. With me.”

You gave him a tight, yet playful smile “I can’t even leave to shower?” He shook his head slowly, his close smile stretching slightly wider “Hm, guess you’ll have to come with me from now on then.”

“Guess so.”

“You’re such a joke”

“I’m dead serious.”

“Hi, ‘dead serious’, have you seen my boyfriend Kim Seokjin anywhere?”

He smiled wider, unable to control himself any longer.

“Wow, no wonder I’m dating you.”

Suddenly, you became vividly aware of his arms encasing you underneath him, the way his pupils had dilated slightly and how his breathing had become shallow and laboured.

“I haven’t seen your boyfriend.” he whispered, lowering his face closer to yours with every word “But I know where your husband is”

Jin swallowed your gasp with a kiss, it wasn’t hungry or desperate, but chaste and gentle and all kinds of butterflies flying in your stomach. Your hands cupped his face, biting his bottom lip occasionally and struggling to breathe all the while. You hated it when Jin interrupted you as you spoke with a kiss, eventually losing yourself in his kisses and allowing him the victory of the battle. Not like you were speaking before he kissed you.

The both of you separated gently, the feel of his lips still lingering on yours as your eyes remained closed; unconsciously not ready see him for reasons you yourself didn’t really understand. The sound of your name came in the form of a whisper, Jin’s voice a little raspy and that reminded you of how sweet he sounded as he sang. It was a pleasing; but also worrying, contrast.

You opened your eyes gently, the bright light that streamed in through the windows making some sort of halo behind Jin’s head. And you manage to croak out a soft “Yeah?”

Jin smiled, his plump lips that you would kiss for hours if you could, stretched towards the side.

“Marry me.”

You returned his smile, contentment filling your eyes and every corner of your being as you pulled him into you again.

[wen-junehui]

sugar ‘n spice

part 1/? of Café Carat series

genre: fluff/romance, coffee shop!AU, barista!Jun[SVT]

word count: 5415

characters: Wen Junhui/Original Female Character, Joshua Hong, Kim Mingyu, Yoon Jeonghan

(a/n): i finally finished this after how many months??? ;w; school got in the way when i was halfway done but now we here y’all. in celebration of their comeback and rebirth, i hope you sweet nibs of chocolate enjoy! ♡

He carefully hovered the cayenne pepper shaker over a pool of chocolate. He only needed a small amount so that the flavors can harmonize with each other. Anything more than that would result in burning hot failure. The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his lips while his eyebrows scrunched together in complete concentration. He gently tapped the glass bottle and red specks of fire drifted into the mug like snow on a winter’s day.

He pat the container a few more times, keenly watching the red dust-like particles until he was satisfied with the amount. His eyes focused on the cayenne as it slowly dissolved to become one with the chocolate. An air of relief washed over him like he just jumped through a ring of fire with his clothes still intact. The hardest part of making this drink was finally done. He grabbed a silver teaspoon and let the cayenne pepper mingle with the sweet, sugary flavors. Fluffy clouds of whipped cream spurted from a metal canister and rested peacefully atop the chocolate. To add to the aesthetic, he artfully drizzled chocolate syrup across the mountain of cream letting the streaks of fudge flow like waterfalls. Finally, he stepped back and admired his completed spicy hot chocolate.

“Hey Josh. Try out this new hot chocolate I just made.” he nudged his coworker, who was leaning forward near the register scrolling through pictures of cats on his phone.

Joshua averted his attention to the rusty brown ceramic mug trying to decipher any obvious differences with this so-called new drink. His stared at it for a good minute before looking at his friend with complete disapproval. “What’s so new about it? It looks like our normal hot chocolate that we’ve made a million times already.”

“That’s what you think, but I actually put a bit of cayenne pepper in it!” he grabbed the shaker from the counter and shoved it in Joshua’s face with pride.

As if Joshua didn’t already deal with his antics on the daily, he slowly pushed the shaker away and looked even less pleased. “Cayenne? In hot chocolate? Jun, I know you love spicy food but come on, man. That sounds ridiculous.”

Junhui grabbed his chest like all of Joshua’s words were arrows going straight into his heart, and not in the hey-Cupid-he-shot-my-heart type of way. “But this is the hottest thing in all the cafes nowadays.” he paused for a moment, waiting to see if his pun would give Joshua a second thought. But the only thing he received was a blank stare. Clearly it wasn’t working.

“Have you been on shift with Vernon or Wonwoo lately?” Joshua asked, knowing that they were the only two people that could come up with a pun that terrible.

Just as the taller one opened his mouth to respond, the bell above the entrance jingled cheerfully indicating someone was entering the cafe. The sound of car horns beeping outside and bicycles zooming past the shop momentarily disrupted the relaxing ambiance. Junhui turned his attention away from Joshua to see a girl descending down the small staircase like an angel coming down from heaven. She was wearing a black and white ombre tennis skirt with a navy high neck top and an oversized denim jacket. She hopped down the stairs with a spring in each of her steps. She approached the register and blankly stared at the menu above, not minding the two baristas who were blatantly staring at her.

“Hey.” Junhui whispered quietly. “Who’s that girl and why haven’t I ever seen her before?” he turned his head back to Joshua so he wouldn’t get caught staring at her from the top of her honey blonde hair to the bottom of her black and white striped sneakers.

“Ah, it’s her. She was in my creative writing class last semester. She doesn’t come here very often, only during exam season to study. She came here once during the summer with her friends to do a photoshoot. She only orders the same three things: matcha latte, ginger peach iced tea, or hot chocolate.” Joshua said matter-of-factly as if he knew all of their customers’ usual orders, which wouldn’t be surprising considering he’s one of the managers of this fine establishment.

Junhui’s ears perked up hearing the last drink option. “If she orders a hot chocolate, ask if she wants to try mine.” he said hopefully. Even though he saw her for the first time today, he wanted her to be the first one to try his drink. As crazy as it sounds he doesn’t want anyone else, not even the rest of his coworkers, to try it before her. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling like this. But the way he felt sparks gently sprouting within his chest told him that he had to get to know this girl and his hot chocolate was the key.

“What? Jun, no! We can’t give that to a customer. It’s not even an official menu item.” In order for a barista’s creation to pass as an official drink, it has to get each one of the manager's approval. Joshua already wasn’t too convinced and he was sure that the other two, Jeonghan and Wonwoo, were going to give the same opinion.

“Come on, please! Just this once. Just so … you can see if it has any appeal.” he suddenly grasped Joshua’s arms and gave them a gentle shake, gradually becoming desperate as the seconds passed by.

Joshua sighed and nodded, agreeing to his request. He broke away from Junhui’s grasp and walked over to the register with a strawberry sweet smile plastered onto his face, ready to put on his best customer service act. “Hi and welcome to Café Carat. What can I get for you today?” he was making a bet with himself to see which of her three usuals she would choose today.

She turned her attention from the large hand drawn menu to Joshua. Her chocolate pupils met his crescent-shaped eyes through her round silver glasses. “Mmm … I’ll just have a hot chocolate.” her sweet voice wafted through the air like a soft piano melody. Junhui heard her say the magical two words and restrained himself from making any obvious reaction, nonchalantly wiping a mug as if he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“We actually have a new type of hot chocolate that one of our baristas created. It has a hint of cayenne pepper in it to give it a little kick, helping to keep you awake as you study. Would you like to give it a try?” Even though Joshua thought it was the weirdest drink he’s ever heard of, he still had to advertise it in the best way possible. He wasn’t going to be the one drinking it, so what did he have to lose?

She tilted her head slightly and pursed her plump, pink lips as she considered his recommendation. “Uhh … no it’s fine. I’ll just have the regular.”

“No problem at all. That’ll be $4.50.” Joshua swiped her card through the register and handed her receipt with a smile that was a little too sweet for it to be genuine. She thanked him for his kind service and walked away to find a place to settle for the next few hours.

She claimed a spot at one of the long wooden tables facing the counter and draped her jacket over the black metal chair. She opened her laptop and started to type away while waiting for her drink. Her eyes were glued to her screen and didn’t bother to give any attention to the baristas in her line of vision, assuming they were the same people she sees every time she came there.

Junhui couldn’t hide the insulted look on his face as he made her basic, plain hot chocolate. Maybe she didn’t want a new flavor to distract her? The sweet and spicy notes in the drink could make her taste palette go haywire and therefore, she wouldn’t be able to focus? All of these thoughts were running through his mind as he swiveled the canister of whipped cream. He swirled an extra fluffy cloud and finished it off with an organized mess of chocolate syrup. He carefully carried the mug to the pick-up counter ready to meet its owner. “Hot chocolate!”

Her head popped up from her laptop like a rabbit coming up from the tall grasses. She got up from her seat and gracefully weaved her way through the tables and chairs. Once she reached the counter she and Junhui locked in eye contact, prompting her heart to stop beating for a split second. Was he new? Or maybe he’s worked here for a long time but she never caught him on his shift until today. This cafe was known for their insanely attractive baristas but none of them quite piqued her interests until now. She was so taken aback by his handsome good looks and tall stature that she forgot how to muster a simple greeting.

Junhui noticed her prolonged gaze and gave her a soft smile. “You ordered the plain hot chocolate?”

His voice sounded like molten honey, rich and smooth, which provoked butterflies to buzz frantically within her lower body. “Yeah, I did.” she gave a nervous giggle as she lowered her gaze to look at the drink. She noticed the monstrous amount of fluff and widened her eyes in surprise. “Wow. Being generous on the whipped cream today?”

“Only when I’m in the mood.” he gave her a smirk as he gently pushed the mug towards her. “I hope the whipped-cream-to-chocolate ratio doesn’t ruin the drink for you.”

She looked directly into his eyes. Changing her demeanor in the blink of an eye, she wasn’t going to let this guy in a burgundy apron win her over so easily. “I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it.” lowering her voice tone just a tad bit to match the sensuality his dark chocolate eyes seem to be emulating.

She reached for the mug and purposefully brushed her fingers against his. The slight physical contact was enough to make the butterflies go mad. “Thank you!” she swiftly lifted her drink off the counter and made her way back to her seat.

Junhui continued to stare from across the room, unable to break his gaze away from her. Majority of the customers that swooned over him either acted too flustered or made it obvious that they just wanted to rip the apron off of him. But he saw the quick change in her character as more of a challenge, that she didn’t want to let him win at his own game. That was enough to make him feel more attracted to this girl.

“Bruh, what was that all about?” Joshua’s amused voice broke him away from his gaze and he turned to face his boss, who was leaning against the register with a smirk glued onto his face.

“I honestly don’t know.” he was at a complete loss for words. A girl has never made him feel this way before and he genuinely didn’t know how to respond or react at all. All he knew was that he would do anything to get to know her. He was even contemplating working more hours during exam season just to catch her again.

Joshua chuckled at how love struck Junhui appeared to be and lazily walked over to nudge him on the shoulder. “Okay well, obviously she has a thing for you too. Why don’t you go over there and talk to her? You know, help her study?” he suggestively raised his eyebrows at him.

“What? No! I think I’ll just … be a distraction to her.” Junhui began to nervously fiddle with the buttons and knobs on the espresso machine.

Joshua slowly leaned closer and stared directly into Junhui’s eyes with a look of shock and confusion. They continued to stare at each other until the taller one blinked his eyes in innocence. Joshua suddenly burst out into laughter, probably a little too loud for the ambiance. “Wait, what did I just hear? Are you telling me that Wen Junhui, master of all things greasy, is afraid to talk to a girl? Bruh, what happened to you? Did you inhale too much cayenne?”

Junhui straightened his back and crossed his arms in defense, appalled that someone could mockingly laugh at him like this. “I’m not afraid! It’s just she … didn’t want to try my spicy hot chocolate so I’m a little insulted.”

“Oh come on. I really don’t think anyone, regardless of who it is, wants to try your drink. I’m pretty sure Jeonghan and Wonwoo won’t want to try it either.” Joshua breathed and placed his hand over his stomach as he recovered from his hysterical laughter.

Junhui’s attitude changed with the flick of a switch seeing one of his bosses discrediting something he made and was proud of. He wasn’t going to give up this fight. “Okay, how about this? If I get her to try my spicy hot chocolate and she likes it, it goes on the menu regardless of all of your approval. If she hates it, I’ll give up.”

Joshua pondered about this proposition. He gently gripped his chin and hummed as he carefully thought about all the ways Junhui could lose his own bet. First, she barely comes here so there’s a slim possibility they may never cross paths again. Second, she orders the same three things every single time, not giving a slight indication to deviate from her usuals. Finally, and the simplest way this could all fail, she could try it and she simply doesn’t like it. After analyzing all of the possible outcomes, Joshua turned to Junhui with the most confident smile on his face. “Deal.”

Junhui was surprised at how quickly he accepted the offer. “Wait, really? You’re agreeing this quickly?”

“Mhmm. It’s a bet. But you have to get her to try it the next time she comes during your shift. After that, it becomes invalid. Okay?” he extended his hand to seal the contract.

Junhui suddenly turned his attention back to her. She was taking a sip when she caught him staring. She smiled and set the mug down not knowing she had a white mustache on her upper lip. Licking her lips and feeling the layer of fluff, her eyes widened as she reached for a napkin and tried to hide her embarrassment.

His eyes curled into tiny crescents as he watched her cute gestures. In that moment, he sincerely hoped that the next time they cross paths she would try his drink. He wouldn’t force her into it just so he could finally have his own creation on the menu. He just wanted someone other than his friends to try something he made himself and he wanted her to be the lucky first.

He rotated his head back to Joshua and firmly grasped his hand, accepting the invitation and all of its terms. “It’s a deal.”

Customers trickled in and out of the coffee shop for the next few hours. Most of them ordered espresso drinks to help them get through the rest of their day. Others met up with friends and caught up while drinking matcha lattes and iced cappuccinos. Junhui made small talk with everyone as he usually did, making every person feel welcome regardless if it was their first or hundredth visit. As he worked, he couldn't help but wonder how many times he missed her when she stopped by and he wasn't on shift. He wondered when her next time would be. Tomorrow? Next week? Maybe months from now?

He glanced at her from time to time after handing drinks to customers. She would catch his stares whenever she took a quick break from studying, always smiling in reply. Neither of them spoke to one another ever since she picked up her drink. Even when she approached the counter to return the mug, she immediately went back to her seat to pack up her things.

He could only watch as she quietly pushed her chair under the table, carefully aligning it with the others to create a perfect row. Joshua, being the star manager that he is, greeted her his usual goodbye and waved. She politely waved back and just as she was about to exit, they locked eyes for the last time. She threw him a wink to indicate that this won’t be their last meeting, but he couldn’t help but wonder when she’ll be back.

“Hey. Did you hear about that barista at the Starbucks on the other side of campus? All the girls keep talking about how good looking he is.” a tall, tan boy with jet black hair asked Junhui. He lazily wiped down a mug and attempted to make conversation during a slow day at the cafe.

“If only they came here to see how much better we are.” Junhui sighed, thinking about all the poor customers missing out on his devilish good looks. “What do they say about him?”

“I heard he has really nice plush lips that have a way with words. This one girl said she fell for him after meeting his eyes for just one second. Ah, so ridiculous!”

An image of her popped up in Junhui’s mind as his coworker laughed at how people can fall for someone so quickly. It’s been two months since she last stepped foot into the cafe. It was now finals season, the time where students have to cram a semester’s worth of knowledge for a three-hour exam. He wondered whether they would cross paths again since Joshua said she only rolls around during this time of the year. Exhaling loudly to dismiss these thoughts, he tried to devote his full attention to the conversation. “Hmm. Wait Mingyu, do you think he’s the reason why business here has been slow lately?”

Mingyu placed the mug on the counter and raised his eyes towards the ceiling. He gripped his chin with his thumb and index finger as his lower lip jutted out like a cliff overlooking the ocean. “No, that's nonsense. Our coffee is much more delicious! What do you think, Jeonghan hyung?”

They shifted their attention to the manager on duty, who was lazily leaning against the sink. His blonde locks peeked out from the black baseball cap covering his eyes. He groggily raised his skull at the sound of his name. “Everything about us is so much better. People are just lazy to make the trek all the way over here to get the good quality stuff. But hey, their loss.” he shrugged off the imminent competition like it wasn’t worth wasting his energy on.

He slowly lifted his lean muscular body off the sink and drawled every word he uttered. “Call me when it starts to get busy. I'm going to take inventory in the back.” he yawned and trudged his feet on the floor making his way past the two baristas and through the earthy-toned tapestry into the back room.

Mingyu chuckled as he watched their boss essentially check out for the rest of the day. “He’s going to take another nap on the boxes of coffee beans. I wonder how he became a manager sometimes.” he leaned his elbows on the wooden counter and took out his phone to mindlessly scroll through pictures and status updates in an attempt to pass the time until closing.

Junhui sighed as he was left alone with his thoughts. He scanned his eyes around the cafe, only housing three people hunched over their laptops and piles of papers. He couldn’t help but let his mind drift to the barista at Starbucks and wondered if she met him.

Is she usually on that side of the campus? Does she go there often? Have they talked to each other and started dating? Is that why she never comes by anymore? All of these thoughts aimlessly wandered around his mind, his curiosity eating him away the longer he thinks about possible answers.

He started to take more shifts recently hoping that fate would smile favorably upon his efforts and allow them to meet once more. But with only a few days left in the semester, his hope was gradually fading. He ruffled his hair in an attempt to dispel these negative thoughts.

Junhui padded over to the counter and began making his infamous hot chocolate. The rest of the baristas in the cafe had mixed reactions about it. Some supported his unique twist on a classic drink while others thought the combination just wasn’t suitable for the cafe menu. He solemnly grabbed the cayenne shaker and sprinkled in a dash of fiery flakes. He finished off with a simple drizzle of chocolate, not even bothering to make a mess, and gave his creation a reserved smile.

He will just have to keep trying to reach his goal of getting one of originals on the menu. It was undeniable how all of the customers loved the way he prepared their drinks, adding his own flair into the way he handles the ingredients. But despite all the attention, Junhui wanted nothing more than to have a part of himself up on the menu with the rest of the members’ creations.

Junhui laced his finger through the handle, ready to drink his bittersweet concoction, when the bell rang welcoming a new customer. His eyes darted from the mug to the door and to his surprise, there she was walking down the stairs. His eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise at the sight of her, momentarily thinking she was just a mirage. She adorned a pink and white striped oversized button down tastefully tied in knot around her waist to highlight her figure. Her backpack lazily slung over her shoulder and bumped against her light wash denim shorts with every step she took. She didn’t wear her glasses this time around and Junhui could perfectly see her milk chocolate orbs that twinkled like stars in the night sky.

As she approached the counter, she noticed Junhui staring at her in disbelief and gave him a joyful smile giving off the impression that she came at just the right time. Mingyu broke away from his phone ready to take her order and immediately sensed the unspoken chemistry. He glanced at Junhui, known for flirting with every customer, and how seemed to be at a loss for words just seeing this girl.

Could this be the girl Joshua hyung was talking about? he thought. His eyes continued to dart back and forth between the two as if he was watching a tennis match wondering who would make the next move. He smirked quietly to himself and decided what fun would it be to waste an opportunity to mess with his visual rival. He stuffed his phone in the pocket of his ripped jeans as she walked up to the counter and met her candy like smile.

“Hi and welcome to Café Carat!” Mingyu didn’t even bother to stand up straight and continued to rest his elbows on the counter to meet her at eye level. His puppy dog eyes curled into crescents as the corners of his mouth formed into a soft smile. “What can I get you on this hot day? Someone as pretty as you only deserves the most refreshing drink in all of campus.”

Junhui immediately pinned his eyes on Mingyu and glared at him with a seething jealousy. Having the thought of the Starbucks barista stealing her away was enough. But having his own coworker trying to reel her in with sweet talk was nothing but unacceptable to Junhui. He was sure Mingyu felt his burning eyes trying to pierce through every layer of his body but the taller one didn’t turn away from her.

She became slightly flustered from his pick-up line, a soft blush forming on her cheeks. “Ah, thank you. I guess I came to the right place at the right time then.” she giggled. Junhui continued to watch their interaction and wished that he was the one on register duty that day.

“You surely did! Business has been slow all day and it’s also too hot outside for my liking. But seeing you made my day a whole lot brighter.” Mingyu gave her the brightest smile that he could muster, making the cafe live up to its name with his shining array of pearly white teeth. “But seriously what can I get for you, miss? I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Hmmm.” she tapped her finger on her cheek and looked up at the menu. After about five seconds, she returned her attention to Mingyu. “You might think I’m crazy considering the heat outside but I’d like a hot chocolate, please.”

Junhui escaped from his episode of plotting ways to get revenge on Mingyu to process what he had just heard. Did he hear the magical two words once again? What could’ve made her want it on such a hot day like this, especially when their summer menu has been so popular lately? He was already planning on how to convince her to order a hot chocolate the next time she swung by. Now that she’s here and he didn’t even have to try, a different feeling replaced the jealousy in his chest. A feeling full of warmth just like his drink.

“No judging at all! A bunch of our customers still get hot coffee and lattes during the summer. I guess nothing beats the original.” Mingyu smiled as he finished ringing her up. Despite purposefully trying to make the older one jealous at first, he was secretly happy to know that Junhui had a chance to get this girl and his drink on the menu. And if she and Junhui started dating, that means a greater chance for the customers to fall for him instead.

“You can take a seat anywhere you’d like and our barista will personally bring the drink to you!” Mingyu looked at Junhui and nodded, indicating that he was on his side and wanted to help him achieve his goal.

“Okay! Thank you so much!” she politely smiled before strolling away and settling at a table next to the window. Like last time, she sat down facing the counter and took out all her study materials to tackle her last final of the year. She locked eyes with Junhui and gave him a subtle grin, letting him know that she was waiting for him.

Junhui looked down at his already prepared hot chocolate from before and with his pride restored in full force, he was determined to make it happen. He quickly gathered all the ingredients and a freshly washed mug to make the best spicy hot chocolate like his life depended on it. He steamed the milk, scooped the chocolate powder, sprinkled the cayenne, swirled the cloud of cream, and drizzled the chocolate to perfection because she only deserved the best.

He wove his finger through the handle and carefully lifted up his precious concoction with utmost control, not wanting to disturb the chemistry of the drink. He took purposeful strides towards her table. His heartbeat quickened as the distance between them shortened with every step. She broke away from her laptop and followed his hand as he gracefully set the mug on the table.

Junhui pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “Hot chocolate?” he confirmed, his canines peeking through his velvety lips.

She couldn't help but look at his mouth when he talked, noticing the small beauty marks on his upper lip. She felt the familiar blooming feeling within the pit of her stomach already warming her up. “Yeah, thank you so much! It's pretty hot today but I'm really happy to have this again.”

Junhui tilted his head ever so slightly at her comment. “Hm? Why is that?” he hoped that he didn’t sound too eager to find out her answer.

“Because your hot chocolate was so delicious that I couldn't wait to have it again. Something about it was so much better than the other times I've had it here. I stopped by a couple times in the past few weeks but you weren't on shift. I'm really happy I caught you today.” her eyes curled like bright rainbows on a clear summer’s day as she mused about him and his drink.

Junhui’s heart swelled witnessing how ecstatic she was to see him and to try his hot chocolate. A wash of relief showered over him knowing that what felt that day when they met for the first time wasn’t one-sided. “Do you come here often? I can't believe it took months for us to meet again.”

“I don't have many opportunities to come to this part of campus that much. I'm mostly on the other side because majority of my classes are in the business building. It's a shame though because I love coming here. The atmosphere is so much more calming and welcoming compared to the Starbucks over there.”

Junhui suddenly remembered the hot barista at Starbucks. He licked his plump, cherry like lips. “Yeah I've heard that certain Starbucks is getting more popular lately. People always talk about this hot new barista all the girls are crushing on. It's like we have new competition, you know?”

She noticed the way he suddenly avoided eye contact as he stared at the mug between them. She sensed that he was getting jealous at the possibility of him losing to this guy and found it to be rather cute. “Oh yeah, you're not wrong! But … I don't know. I've had drinks from him a few times and although he is very charming, his drinks don't really give the warm, fuzzy feeling I get from here. Especially the hot chocolate.” All the laughter she was holding in suddenly burst out into the air between them.

Junhui’s shoulders relaxed and he gave the cheesiest smile his cheeks have ever had to endure. “I knew I had nothing to worry about.” he then noticed the whipped cream starting to deflate and the chocolate syrup looking sadder by the minute. “You should probably start working on the hot chocolate. After all, I don't go through the trouble of adding a special ingredient just for anyone.”

Her eyes widened at the unknown additive. “Special ingredient? Will I die? Are you secretly trying to kill me?”

“Mmm… no. But if the heat starts getting to you, I wouldn't mind if you fainted so I can catch you.” he winked and gave her a cheeky smile letting his canines greet her in all of their glory.

The butterflies now uncontrollably buzzed in full force and there was no denying that the heat already crept up to her cheeks. “Okay. But if I end up getting sick and fail my last exam as a result, I'm blaming you.” she sarcastically giggled before carefully bringing the drink close to her face, the mountain of whipped cream just missing the tip of her nose.

She tilted the mug to let the liquid goodness enter her mouth. The chocolate coated every inch of her tongue while the whipped cream added an extra layer of creaminess to the overall experience. She focused on her taste buds trying to discern something different. Suddenly, a hint of spice started to heat up her tongue. It wasn't the searing pain she got from eating fire noodle ramen, but more of a subtle kick that wakes up your senses. “Whoa, it's spicy! Is it cayenne powder?”

Junhui nodded in return. “Do you like it?” he listened intently wanting to hang onto her every word.

“Yeah, it's so good! I wish I ordered this last time you were here.” she licked the whipped cream off her lips and longingly stared at the mug already wanting to take another sip. “I usually don't handle spice well, but wow I never knew cayenne and chocolate would make a perfect match. It’s better than the original actually.”

“You don't do well with spicy food?” Junhui leaned forward so their faces were just inches apart. He got a better look at her milk chocolate eyes, resembling the drink that would now be on the menu. “Don't worry, I can help with you that. You just have to learn how to handle the heat.”

[dreadhaus-literature]

{A/N}

I~ truthfully don’t know why I came to write. I’ve just been kinda doing my own thing tonight, gave myself a manicure (would have done a pedicure too but it’s cold and I have sockies on) and otherwise was messing about in my closet. Having one of those rare restless moods where I don’t really want to do anything, but y’all know me. I can’t not do something.

So here I am. Doing something.

Uh, well first I suppose I oughta address I hyped up coming out of hiatus today and then, lmao, didn’t. I opened a document to write initially but I just wasn’t feeling FL was connected, so I went to talk to Monica about how things are going. No sense beating a dead horse, we all know what goes with FL and why stuff gets the way it does. So at this point, I’ve just set my pen down until I’m told to pick it up again. Not going to put the blog in hiatus, just don’t expect regular updates anymore, I guess? I’m finding I get discouraged trying to do this alone, so if I can’t do it with my partner, I won’t be doing it at all--and that’s coming from a place of support.

FL isn’t FL without Monica, nor should it be.

I’ll give it a few months and if things keep stagnating or I haven’t gotten a chance to write for FL anymore, I’ll take a look at other stuff to write. I don’t want to not write through 2019 like I did the past three years, I meant what I said at the start of the year.

My whole inspiration for what was going to be today’s prompt was Carol, actually--because I watched the red carpet premiere for Captain Marvel earlier tonight when it was live. Haha, I cried three fucking times. Three! First time was watching everyone SO hype for Carol, like the little girl in me could not handle seeing so many people so excited about someone I’ve loved since I was a kid. I’ve said it before, several times, but I never thought I’d get to see Carol on the big screen. Now, I get so excited I cry, lmao.

The second time I cried was when the youngest actress (who plays Carol as a little girl) was doing an interview and she said how important and special the movie was for her--again, the little girl in me could relate plus Mama Bear was all aflutter at seeing this little angel talk about how excited she was to see another female superhero get her own movie. I remember she said something, “Now every little girl in the world knows she’s special!”

Sweet Christ I’m about to get teary again remembering that. THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT MOVIE. 😤

...And I cried when Brie came out, lmao. I was not ready. She wore a dress full of sunbursts/stars, for Carol’s insignia. 💖💖💖

I could not handle that, like one of Brie’s first lines during her red carpet interview was that Carol changed her life, and my heart about shattered. You can tell Brie is proud to play Carol, and she worked her ass off to be able to do so--and I have so much respect for actors who commit to these roles like that. These characters mean the world to me and I love when the actor who plays them takes that seriously. You can tell, listening to Brie, she does. It was genuine, and I have renewed respect for her and I sincerely hope she knows how much support she has for this movie, despite all the fuckhead trolls out there.

So yeah, I cried for like, an hour? Haha, no, that’s an exaggeration and even if it wasn’t, it was all happy tears. I’m just so excited about this movie and to be somewhere I never thought I’d be. It isn’t to diminish, like, Tony or Peter or Logan but I always knew there’d be Iron Man or Spider-Man or X-Men movies--but there are others, like Thor or T’Challa or Carol, who I never anticipated seeing on the big screen and it’s so huge to be here.

I’m so grateful that we are here.

I’ve kinda just been all over the comicverse today, actually, looking at stuff--well, haha, in the two biggest backyards, rather. I only really stray outside of Marvel and DC to visit Anung & Co, but y’all know me. I’ve got my faves and I stick to my familiars--which up until very recently just included Marvel, lmao. But DC’s in there now, obviously, so I do wander about there from time to time. I feel like I visit a new school or some shit every time I do this, because I recognize some folks now but I run into others and I’m just like, yeah, i have no fucking idea who you are, haha. My DC coloring book came and it was vastly different from flipping through my Marvel book; I could name every single person for my Marvel book but I think I can count on my fingers and toes the DC folks I know. BUT I AM TRYING. Haha, I am learning, and it’s fun for a lot of reasons. Say this all the time but I am grateful to Monica for getting me to stop staring down my nose at the lot of them. I was missing out.

But I uh, well I’m noticing that a lot of what I like...not a lot of other DC fans do, lmao. And I’m not going to be tooting my own horn over here--or Avery’s rather, because I gave that back to her--but I just mean, I was taken aback by how, uh, upset some DC fangirls are about things that I liked or enjoyed? And I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, it happens on the Marvel side too. People are opinionated and I usually fall to the counter-culture side of arguments. I guess because I’m a wide-eyed newbie to the DCverse, I wasn’t thinking about it. Okay, like, for example--

My first unpopular opinion is that Arthur Curry looks better in the comics than the DCEU.

“Whaaaaaat?! BUT DOT, ARE YOU SAYING JASON MOMOA ISN’T HOT?!”

I’m not here to say Jason isn’t attractive or that he doesn’t do Arthur justice--but I’mma stand here and on the same hand say Tony Stark looks better in the comics than in the MCU. One, because I’m a huge gigantic lesbian, and two, because I always think the comics look better. Like, you will never hear me say otherwise, in terms of looks. Real life cannot compete with fantasy; characters can be drawn perfectly and try as we might to emulate that in real life, we never can.

It has nothing to do with the actors, nothing to do with Jason or RDJ, it’s all about the comic character they play--which a lot of fangirls seem to forget when it comes to these live-action portrayals, might I add.

And so uh, when I wanna look at Arthur, like everyone else in the comics, I’d rather see his comic iteration. And ain’t nobody here for comic Aquaman for some reason. I never see him around and it sucks. I guess I shouldn’t judge but I do a little. Like, y’all been sleepin’ on Arthur or mocking him for fucking years and even I knew that, from my DC-hating lawn chair. But now that Jason plays him, now he’s acceptable? Now he’s okay?

Arthur is literally in the same boat as Loki, like if you don’t love them at their comicverse then you don’t get to love them in the movies. Ya don’t love Arthur, you love Jason. And I just don’t get that. Jason’s a beefcake and y’all know I’m here for some bulk but if we’re comparing looks comic Arthur is who I’m diving into the briny deep for every single day of the year.

^ LIKE THIS GIF IS SAVED IN MY PHONE LIBRARY, I LOVE IT SO MUCH how do you not find this sexy, like I am a gay woman and he could part me like the Red Sea.

Anyway.

My 2nd apparent unpopular opinion is that Edward Nygma, Mr. Riddler, looks super scrumptious in the Batman, War of Jokes and Riddles arc. I went to look at him for...reasons, earlier tonight, and I was expecting others to agree with me and was pretty stunned that everyone in the tag was making fun of him. I felt like Peter, like I went, ���Riddle me this, how hot is Edward in this arc, guys, amirite?” And I held up my hand for a high five and got left hanging by the entire rest of the fandom--Monica not included because she’s above the fandom on her lofty angel cloud.

And I don’t give a shit, y’all know I hate popular things and I’m not complaining about this, I’m talking about it because I’m still not over my surprise. I’m aware I don’t like conventionally attractive types, I have this thing with unique bone structure or just unique appearances to begin with but I didn’t think Edward fell into that. I just thought he was handsome, like...at the risk of embarrassing myself but I found myself staring at him a lot during the arc when Monica was reading it to me because it was the kind of attractive that kept catching my eye. And so to hear so many people saying how ugly he looked or how they hated that iteration of him and I was like...lmao, am I missing something?? There’s every chance I am, I am very new to this party.

But I’m not new to the general premise of finding someone attractive so to look me in my retinas and tell me this--

This is not an entire look? Y’all seriously gonna hit the pass button on this particular Nygma?

This--

This is ugly, to you?

??????????

I’M NOT JUST USING QUESTION MARKS BECAUSE IT’S EDWARD I’M BEING SERIOUS, I am seriously confused by this. I see people posting photo sets of him in this arc and I wanna reblog them but they’re being shitty/sarcastic/mean about his appearance and i can’t delete OP’s unnecessary commentary.

I just can’t believe people think he looks ugly here. 😗 I can’t believe this particular opinion is an unpopular one...but whatever it’s my opinion and I’ll just sit on this island with my giant cardboard cutout of him. I don’t need y’all.

Man, and I thoroughly enjoyed that arc and so many people hated it, lmao. It may be because I’m new--actually, no. I’m not giving the fandom the benefit of the doubt for that one. Monica and I read that arc and while I didn’t have a ton of Batman history to base it on, it was solid writing and it was enjoyable to read. I think it comes down to that everyone is so quick to shit all over anything, anymore. Everyone is so fucking miserable, lmao, like it’s so chic to hate everything that’s put in front of you. It reminds me of trying to serve a toddler lunch. I can still remember trying to appease my little sister’s picky ass tummy when she was a baby, even things I knew for a fact she oughta like or that she did like, she’d smack off her high chair and cry about wanting something else--so she could repeat it when I set something new down. It’s the same fucking thing. As someone who is pretty happy with pretty much anything, it makes me anxious, like I worry everyone hating everything is gonna make content creators stop doing things. Why should they keep on, all you wanna do is bitch about anything they do? I wouldn’t write if I got that many complaints about my perfectly good stories. It’s...aggravating, why people can’t just be happy.

Which~ brings me to my third unpopular opinion, that I know Monica shares with me--BatCat sucks. Like, it’s a crappy pairing. It’s in the same boat as Peter & MJ, or Matt & Karen, or Tony & Pepper--I am not writing their dumbass ship name. I only wrote BatCat because the ship name is cute and that’s 90% because it has cat in it and I love kitties.

Anyway.

I see...so much support for this pairing and I’m like...y’all know she left him at the altar, right? Broke his heart? I really don’t care why she did it, there’s not going to be a single reason she could give that would make it okay in my book. I don’t know Selina all that well and I don’t actually dislike her like I do MJ or Karen or Pepper but I do dislike that I’ve been told she does this to him all the time. Everyone knows I have trust issues and someone flaking or betraying me constantly would drive me...haha, batty.

It’s 8AM leave me alone.

In all seriousness, it really makes me question the sort of girlfriend some girls think they are. I’m a feminist through and fucking through but that doesn’t mean I have to support shit-ass behavior and I don’t tolerate foolishness. As I said above, she could show up in a few issues and say there was some reason why she did it, some noble reason to do with Bane (seriously what the hell is he doing, I know he’s up to some shit) but you let your man know. You let your partner know, you don’t leave them hurting. There’s no fucking excuse for that. I’m a sensitive bitch and I’m 100% fine to admit that and admit that is where I’m coming from but I get so tired of women being selfish in comics, like why do you think it’s acceptable to act like this? I don’t know the nuances of Bruce and Selina’s relationship very well but like I said, I know she betrays him or leaves him a lot and that flaky shit gonna turn me off just as fast as when I saw Joker uncaring about Harley’s love. There are some things I just can’t truck with and that’s one of them.

I shouldn’t be surprised there’s so much love for this pairing, so many people are pushing for them to be married and I shouldn’t be shocked--Tony/Pepper and Peter/MJ is super fucking popular but that doesn’t...make them good pairings. You don’t treat your partner the way these women do. You just...don’t. I used to hate Bruce, h-a-t-e him, but it’s polar opposite at this point. He about did me in, initiating all those “I love yous,” and she broke his heart and I just...fwah. The fastest way to make me love you is to give me a reason to take care of you, I have learned.

Shit like these unsupportive relationships for people who give and give until they literally bleed flares my Mama Bear up bad.

I went from hating Bruce to this--

AND THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT, WHAT’S DONE IS DONE. Bruce can protect Gotham, that’s fine, but I guess my black ass finna be there when he gets home to protect him.

THIS IS WHERE WE ARE NOW.

My poor future children are fin’ta be smothered.

So yeah, I kinda went off on a tangent there and I initially...didn’t mean to, lmao. I’m sure there’s other shit I’m missing in terms of my opinions on DC, and I could go on for sixteen years about my Marvel shit, but I’ve...rambled on long enough.

Good night, my loves~♥

[aestheriele]

The Future Teller

Masterlist 🐧 Kim Seokjin’s AU 

-

Summary: You were paired to the most quiet boy in class to do a songwriting project for an art class. The problem is he seemed to know more than what you think he knows.

Setting: College/University

Word count: 1,809 words

JungkookXReader

This is on alternate universe. I hope y’all find this enjoyable.

<<10 -

Last Chapter

Ever since that day, Jungkook became more open, talkative and friendly. He has this unique charm that even though he’s quite shy and reserved you will still be drawn to him. You’ll crave for more interaction or conversation with him that when you noticed it, you already fell deep for him. Well, not all people fell as deep as you fell for the boy. Some fell for him and became his friends and the others fell for him and became someone who can only look at him from afar and dream of him from a distance because that is your purpose. He may have more friends than usual but you’re the still the first one he ever had.

Today is the last week of classes and the final examination day for your art class and speech class. You were kinda late for today because your dad accidentally turned off your alarm because he thought your classes were already finished.  You woke up later than usual and ended up not having breakfast before racing to the school which was very rare for you to do.

Many people tend to say hi or hello to you because of Jungkook. Some of it were his classmates on some of his subjects while some of it were people you don’t really know. When he decided to speak in front of the class one day and sang a song the following week, his name kinda spiraled to the top. He became well known because of his voice and not because he was a scary kind of guy. He was also well known for good poem composition that you sometimes question yourself if he lied to you when you asked him if he had an experience with song writing. You can’t really blame the boy, he’s talented.

You passed by the empty hallways of your school and you literally looked like a mess when you opened the door to your classroom. The exam already started and you quickly grabbed a seat and started answering the test questionnaires. It’s a good thing your first class is speech so it’s easy as heck for you.

Your second class is mathematics and you’re lucky that the finals for this subject is scheduled on the last day of week. However, it’s still mandatory to attend your class for attendance purposes. Your teacher spent this spare time to tell you about his love life which you think does not concern you or anyone in the class but you still listened to him even if he dismissed you 5 minutes later than the required time.

You were now running on your way to Art Class and you were literally a running mess. Each head turned to your direction when you opened the door and you were so glad they weren’t starting the exam on-time.

"Hey," you said as you sat beside Jungkook, "You haven’t started with the exam yet?"

He looked at you and showed his really good set of teeth, "Not really, Y/N. The final exam is the song that we composed and recorded." He said before biting his lower lip which he always did when he’s nervous but he doesn’t look nervous when he does that because he looked hot, "what if we don’t get chosen?"

You smiled at him, "I think it’s more important that you chose me," you said in a straightforward tone that caught him off guard, "I like getting you off guard, you blush like a tomato and that’s really cute."

"I’m not cute though," he said while looking cute as a button.

"Cute," you said that made him blush even more.

"The way you say I’m cute felt like an insult," he said as he glared at you but even him glaring looked cute.

You twirled his bangs and you leaned in closely to his face, "You’re cute, Jungkook. But you’re not just cute. You’re beautiful, you’re weird, you’re hot, you’re angelic, you’re strong, you’re fragile, you’re talented, you’re passionate, you’re good and you’re mine." You said before kissing the tip of his nose.

He shook his head and gave you a smirk, "Of all the things that you described me with, I think I’ll chose the I’m yours part." He said before winking at you.

"Stop with the PDA thing, Jungkook and Y/N!" one of your classmate shouted and you just rolled your eyes at him, "the school’s radio station will now be on-air."

Jungkook took a slice of bread inside his bag and gave it to you as you sat properly on your chair. You were eating while listening to the radio announcer. The school has their own radio station to be able to train the communication students more thoroughly. They also have a school club that’s basically utilizing the school’s radio station and recording room. They teach people stuff on how to properly operate things and what buttons to push or the proper pitch in talking. Basically, they’re giving an overview of what you’ll do once you become part of the school’s radio station. The opportunity is not solely open for the communication students but for all students who wanted to learn new things. But they’re mandatory, of course, to the communication students because they need the basics to survive this school. I knew no one who graduated here who does not know the basics of DJing and stuff.

Someone announced that they’re gonna play all the songs written by your class because the professor had a hard time choosing the best entry. Jungkook took your hand as they played the first song. They were in random order and they don’t tell which student or which pair did the song. The more the songs were being played, the more anxious you get.

"I can’t stand this," you said as you throw the sandwich’s cover on one of the pocket of your bag. You looked at Jungkook and you told him you’re gonna pee but you’re just finding an excuse on how to breathe because all that waiting is making you crazy.

You walked to the school’s bathroom and you peed and then you washed your face. The whole school can hear the song your class composed and you’re becoming more nervous each time they announce a song will be played.

You walked to the school cafeteria and bought some chips and brought it back to class. You were walking in the empty hallway when you heard your professor’s voice and he was saying he will announce the winners of the song writing thing. You didn’t hear your song being played so you concluded that there was a fat chance of being chosen. Not that you care enough… yes, okay! You care… But only a little…

You went back to the classroom and you saw Jungkook being stiff as a statue. You quickly ran to him and check whether he’s having his visions inside the class. You looked into his eyes and was surprised that his pupil was still black.

"You scared me," you said as you breathe a sigh of relief, "YOU SCARED ME, JUNGKOOK!" you shouted at him before punching him on his arms.

"You didn’t hear the announcement?" he said as he looked at you playfully.

"What announcement?" you asked him as you tilt your head waiting for more information, "well?"

"3 pairs were chosen as a winner," he said before smiling at you, "WE WERE CHOSEN! OUR SONG WERE CHOSEN!!!"

"What?" you said in a confused tone, "but they didn’t play our song!"

"They didn’t play our song because they will play it at exactly 12 pm today!" he said excitedly, "WE WERE CHOSEN TO COMPETE FOR THE SONGWRITING CONTEST!"

You hugged him tightly, "Really?????" you asked before kissing him quickly on the lips, "wait, I gotta call dad. You have to call your uncle!"

You called your dad to tell him that your piece was chosen. He was really proud of what you and Jungkook accomplished and even said he will throw a celebration and he will invite all the cops assigned where he was assigned. He also told you that Jungkook and his uncle were both required to be there. He was so happy that before he hung up the call, you overheard his announcement that your song was chosen to his co-cops and you heard them all yell.

"Dad said he’ll throw a celebration party and you and uncle were required to attend," you said as soon as Jungkook hung up.

He looked at you and smiled, "Uncle said the exact same thing! I guess we will be celebrating twice," he said before hugging you and putting a kiss on your head.

You hugged him back and you decided to stay like that for a while.

Jungkook tightened the hug and your stomach is literally making sounds so you reminded him of lunch. He let you go and he took his bag and you took off after him.

He ordered his food before you so he can get a nice table for the both of you while you order yours. He got a nice table located on the part of the cafeteria that has the proper lighting. You put down your tray and quickly devoured your lunch. Unlike other schools, the food on your cafeteria were all edible and taste somewhat good. They’re not the best but at least they serve a food that tasted good and can be eaten by picky eater.

"You didn’t have breakfast?" he asked as he ate his food.

You nodded as an answer, "Dad turned off my alarm. He thought school’s finished last week," you said as you looked at him, "eat your food, Jungkook. You won’t be full just by looking at me."

"Well, I’m rather complete just by looking at you," he said and you glared at him.

"Eat your food, Jungkook. I don’t like it when you just look at me while I’m eating. You ordered a food, finish it."

He smiled at you, "Okay, Y/N. I’m eating it," he said before eating his food.

Now that you finished eating, it was now your turn to look at him while eating and you’re enjoying looking at him.

He was almost finished when you heard your song.

"It was our song," you said to him and he just nodded at you as an answer.

Both of you couldn’t believe that your song was chosen to participate the songwriting contest. You were both silent while listening to it and when it was finished, you looked at Jungkook and smiled at him, "the best 4 minutes of my life," you said to him.

"You’re the best part of my life, Y/N. " he said before putting his hand over yours and smiling like crazy, "You will always be the best and the greatest part of my life."

- <<10 - 1/3/17

A/N: My first update for the year 2017 but it’s the last chapter to Jungkook’s AU *crying* but anyway, after talking to myself after eternity, I kinda made up my mind to reduce the chapters into 5 chapters because Jin’s AU is somewhat 65% finished and I haven’t still cut each chapter and I don’t really think it’s feasible to to cut the story for it to have 10 chaps like Kookie’s. Anyway....

Thanks for reading! Please leave an anon message if you liked it or if you like to, send me a message. I really encourage you to drop a comment or something.

Anyway, I love y’all!!!!!! *throwing heart signs everywhere*

[boxyladies]

I recently received the Norvina Palette by Anastasia Beverly Hills ($42) as a surprise from my bestie Melissa, and it inspired me to bring back the palette series I began last year.

Since I started the Boxy Ladies Palette series, Instagram Stories got bigger and bigger, so recently, I have begun sharing more of my daily makeup looks there, rather than a regular Instagram post, so definitely make sure to follow us on Instagram and check out our stories to catch all of my latest makeup looks, lil makeup hauls, unboxings and random flat lays I create at 6:30am at the gym bathroom. (Hey, they have a white marble counter, so it’s Instagram-approved!) 

Just to give a bit of background on the Norvina palette, Norvina is the daughter of Anastasia, of Anastasia Beverly Hills. So the Norvina palette is essentially all of her favorite shades. Norvina is a striking woman, and she’s very bold in her looks. She has had various hair colors over the year including hot pink and purple most recently. She is basically the personification of the unicorn emoji. 

When I first saw the promo pictures of the Norvina palette, I thought it was totally gorgeous. However, I noticed it was mostly a neutral palette with a few pops of color, so it wasn’t a palette I was immediately drawn to. Like, it’s very beautiful but is it for me? I wasn’t sure. But I knew I didn’t need to be first in line to get it, having learned my lesson from Subculture. 

I was totally surprised when it showed up at my house, courtesy of Melissa. She and I hadn’t talked about it, so it was just a total surprise. Because I hadn’t been manically checking out every single review and dozens of tutorials in preparation for receiving it, I had more of an open mind because I was just excited to start playing with it! I really wasn’t expecting to feel this way, but it just made me excited about makeup again! I was really excited to use it every day and come up with different looks with it. 

Here are a few videos I made on Instagram Stories. I don’t have the best way to insert them, but they are just 15-second close-ups! 

Here is a close-up video of the shadows!

Here are the swatches of the shimmer shadows.

Here are the swatches of the matte shadows!

And finally, below are some of the looks I came up with over the week I used the palette regularly. 

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Final Grade: A

I loved this palette! I think the formula is really, really nice – it is more like the Modern Renaissance formula than Subculture, so if you were nervous about that, I think you will be happy. Several of the shades DID have some kick-up, but if you remember you just need a light touch, I think you will be fine! I think the shades blended so beautifully. I had a slight issue with Soul, the matte lavender shade, but it’s quite possible that it was just user error. For the most part, I thought the palette worked beautifully, and I was happy with almost all of the looks I came up with this week. (More on the “almost” in a second.) I will note that I mostly used my fingers for the shimmers, which I think is the best way to apply most shimmer shades in general. I think you get much better color payoff than when you use a brush, though you could probably get a way with using a flat synthetic brush with some Fix+ to get a similar effect, but I do think using your fingers on those kinds of shades is best. 

One of the biggest criticisms about this palette, and one of the observations that I had, is that this IS mostly a neutral palette.

ABH Norvina

ABH Soft Glam

There was also criticism that it was very similar to the ABH Soft Glam palette ($42), which was the the last palette ABH released. Soft Glam is a very neutral palette, and though beautiful, I didn’t feel like I needed it. (However, if it magically showed up at my house the way Norvina did, I wouldn’t hate it. 🙂 ) So if I was someone who already owned Soft Glam, I might be a little disappointed in the similarities from Norvina to Soft Glam. But since I skipped Soft Glam, I found Norvina to be an extremely versatile palette! 

I really liked the darker colors at the far right of the palette the best: Drama and Passion. I think those burgandy-ish colors really bring out my green eyes a lot, so I am very drawn to them. (FYI, those were the colors I wore during the photoshoot where everything looks really grey/silver. It was right after I got my hair done, so I was trying to get some fun pics of my hair, too!) I really liked mixing Incense and Love to make a rosy-ish brown transition rather than a plain pink or plain brownish transition. I used that combo on most looks I came up with. I really liked the shade Love, because it’s a really dusty pink – a lot more subtle than other pinks that I own, and so it’s quite pretty.

OK, I lied about Drama and Passion being the best shades – Rose Gold is really the best shade in the palette. How could I have forgotten? It was the first shade I was drawn to, swatched like a dream, but then looked so pretty on the eye. It’s like a deeper, more burgandy rose gold than the lighter pink rose golds I tend to think of, so I thought it was really unique. I think that will be the color I end up using the most from this palette. It’s very easy to use a quick transition shade (I might honestly use one of my shadow singles as a transition over some of the shades in this palette for that particular look) and then swiping Rose Gold all over the lid as a one-and-done kind of color. If they make Rose Gold as a single shadow, you definitely need to buy it immediately. I think this shade will definitely make blue and green eyes POP. 

I also really enjoyed using the neutral shades in this palette. While I do like experimenting with color a lot, I really have been enjoying a lot of more neutral looks recently. I liked doing a very light, warm brown eye with Incense, Volatile and Eccentric with Summer, the lighter gold shade, all over the lid. I had this idea for a very classic look with a very neutral eye and a tomato red lip, so these shades were beautiful for that, and I really loved the look I came up with. 

Ironically, since this is a purple palette, and Norvina the person loves purple so much, I really didn’t love the lavender/purple shades in this palette. Soul, the matte lavender-ish color was really strange to me. I may just need to play with it more, but it’s such a muted lavender that it came off very bruise-like on me, and I really wasn’t super happy with my makeup look that day. I think the shimmery purple, Celestial, is very gorgeous, but it’s just not an every day color for me, ya know? I actually thought I would like it a lot more than I did. Since my hair is so icy right now, I thought I would really be drawn to those shades more! But maybe I will experiment with both Celestial and Soul on my lower lashline to see if I can get a look that I am happier with in the future! 

I do think I like Wild Child, the shimmery pink more than I like Celestial. I can see myself using that more regularly as sort of a light, one-and-done type lid look, because it’s such a pretty pink/gold duochrome. The day I used it, I was working half of the day, so I didn’t want to go all out, so I used a mix of Incense/Love in the crease and Wild Child all over, and I thought it looked really nice! Like, I looked pulled-together but also didn’t really look like I was trying too hard. I don’t think it photographed too well, so I’m not sure if that will be included in the looks above, but I did like it! 

I haven’t mentioned it because it’s kind of a boring shade, but Base is definitely a great workhorse shade for setting your eyeshadow base, (which is obvs what it was included for) and also great for highlighting browbone a bit! I really enjoyed Dreamer for a nice inner corner highlight pop, however, I do feel like it helped to spray my brush a bit with some Fix+ to prevent fall-out, and to make it pop a bit more. The one shade I didn’t use is Dazzling, but I didn’t find it to be particularly unique. However, it swatched beautifully and felt exactly like Rose Gold and Summer, so I’m sure it would wear and apply exactly the same. 

All in all, I really loved Norvina, and I look forward to playing with it more. If you were thinking of getting it but you were worried it would be too powdery/not blend well like Subculture, I think you will be really happy with it. If you have Soft Glam, you may not also need Norvina – you might be able to find some single shadow dupes of the lavender/pink shades. However, if you wear a lot of neutrals but you are also drawn to some pastel-y colors, I think you will really, really love this palette! 

A big thank you to Melissa for sending this palette my way! Are y’all interested in picking it up? Let me know! I’m actually going to Baltimore to see Melissa AND JILL this weekend, so I hope I’ll be able to get some great pics of Jill and I so y’all can actually see us together! Jill, Melissa and I have this iconic picture of the three of us from like 10 years ago that we hope to re-create. If we do, I’ll try to post both pics on the blog next week! 🙂 

The next palette I’m going to play with for the palette series is the Melt Twenty Seven palette ($58) that I received for my birthday! I’m really excited to start playing with it, and seeing what looks I can come up with! 

xo, Lauren

The Boxy Ladies Palette Series Returns Featuring The ABH Norvina Palette! I recently received the Norvina Palette by Anastasia Beverly Hills ($42) as a surprise from my bestie Melissa, and it inspired me to bring back the palette series I began last year.