#I’ll make a banner later I just have them done and want to post it

[shina913]

I wish you would write a fic where....reader is going to get a pedicure but her normal nail tech is out, and the owner's cute son (you pick the member) who's back in town volunteers to do reader's appointment. (hehehe)

Jess!!! I did it 🤣 I didn’t think I could but I actually had a lot of fun with this! Thank you for this ask. I hope I did it justice 💜

******

Self-Care Sunday | JJK

Pairing: NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Meet cute; fluff

Warnings: Some naughty thoughts but nothing explicit; slight references to gender stereotypes and occupations

Word count: 3k+words

Summary: You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

A/N: Just for fun! Also, I was too impatient and wanted to actually post on a Sunday, which is why I didn’t have time to find a proper banner image for this. I’ll fix that tomorrow 😅 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes 🥰 hope you all enjoy this!

Every weekend, you make a point to treat yourself to some form of pampering. Whether you went out to get your hair done or simply curled up on your couch to enjoy a book, ‘Self-Care Sunday’ was a big deal for you. It was a way to reset and prepare for the week ahead.

This weekend, you’re going for a mani-pedi. You walk into the nail salon about five minutes before your appointment time.

The small reception booth in front is empty, but the rest of the ladies who are busy with customers pause to greet you since you’re a regular. You begin to scan the room for your usual manicurist, hoping to check in and get set up.

Oddly, she’s nowhere in sight so you ask one of the ladies closest to you, who was giving a pedicure to another client.

“Annie just left. She said she was feeling sick,” she says to you.

“Oh no.” You look around again to see that everyone else is tending to their own clients. There’s no way any of these ladies would be able to take you on this morning. You’re disappointed but it’s not the end of the world. “I guess I could just reschedule my appointment–”

“No, hun, you don’t have to! It’s why she didn’t call to cancel. Our manager will take care of you.”

The salon’s manager, Lily, wasn’t afraid to jump in to help out whenever it was busy. It was a small comfort to know that the day wasn’t going to be a complete waste and you knew that you were in good hands.

The nail technician points to the vacant spa chair next to her and you help yourself. She pauses her work to fill the basin with warm water so you can soak your feet in while waiting for the manager.

“He’ll be right out, okay?” She says with a smile before turning back to her client.

Your eyebrows scrunch in curiosity. You could have sworn she said 'he,' but maybe you were hearing things. You dismiss the thought and activate the massage function on your chair, then start scrolling through your phone while waiting.

A few minutes later, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. As the figure settles on the low stool in front of you, you raise your head to greet them. Your voice gets caught in your throat when you realize that it isn't Lily.

"Hi!"

You’re stunned at the sight of a man sitting in front of you. He looks young and devastatingly hot. You would never expect to see someone who looked like him at a nail salon, let alone working at one. His big, round, beautiful eyes make you want to melt into the water your feet were soaking in.

“Uhm…h-hi,” you choke out once your brain lurches back to life. “I thought the manager was going to do my mani-pedi.”

He grins proudly, spreading a towel on the footrest of the spa chair. "Yep! You're looking at him!"

You feel confused. Did Lily quit or hire someone new? It’s been three weeks since your last appointment. In the background, you hear the other nail technicians giggling amongst themselves.

Seeing the worried look on your face, he explains, "My mom is taking a break, so I'm filling in for her."

You vaguely remember Lily mentioning her children in passing. Since she looks relatively young for her age, she’s always said that people are shocked to hear when she tells them that she has a grown son.

Well, consider yourself shaken to the core.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way," he extends his hand towards you. You're both baffled and overwhelmed by how handsome he looks. The massage chair's tapping setting propels you forward, snapping you out of your daze.

You reach forward to shake his hand and introduce yourself. Although he has a firm grip, his hands are surprisingly soft, sending a chill down your spine.

“When Annie said that she wasn’t feeling well, I offered to take the rest of her appointments for the day,” he divulges.

You look at him skeptically. You’ve never received a manicure and pedicure from a male technician before—especially not from one who was this cute.

He chuckles. "I know, I know. You're probably thinking, 'Does this guy even know what the hell he's doing?' Well, let me assure you that my mom personally trained me. If she's ever worked on you, you can expect the same level of quality from me. But I understand if you feel uneasy. The last thing I want is for a client to feel that way.”

You’re still apprehensive but he sounds confident. You get a grip and nod, giving him consent to continue with the appointment.

“Thanks,” he says softly and with a look of relief. “You booked a deluxe pedicure and manicure, right?”

The deluxe mani-pedi comes with a longer-than-usual massage on your hands and feet. Thinking about this man's hands kneading your tired muscles makes you sweat.

“Y-yes, I did,” you nervously confirm.

He nods in acknowledgment, and you gulp as he begins to dip the pumice sponge into the basin to scrub your heels. He’s careful and gentle with each pass, totally unlike what you’ve been used to. It’s a stark contrast to these ladies, who have manhandled you in surprising ways—especially the petite, older techs. They’re still sweet, though, and they do a great job, but you admit that this is a nice change of pace.

The rest of your pedicure prep goes smoothly until it was time for the massage.

He drains the water from the basin then he props your feet on the footrest. The stool is too low for his frame but he doesn’t complain. He’d rather make the adjustment so you wouldn’t have to bend awkwardly from your seat.

After drying your feet with a towel, he squeezes some lotion into his hands and starts massaging it into your calf muscles. Typically, some ladies prefer to keep their gloves on for sanitary purposes, but Jungkook has taken off his gloves just before the massage. You figured he was the manager on duty, so he could do whatever he wanted. And not that you had any objections, as the skin-on-skin contact feels nice. Better, actually.

You don't know why, but your gaze is drawn to his thighs, which are spread widely in front of you. It's incredibly distracting and you struggle to look away. You wonder if the awkward positioning of his knees against the spa chair is causing him to sit like that, or if there is something else between his legs that he's trying to adjust for.

“Is the pressure okay?” His question pulls you back into reality.

"What? Oh, yeah. It's good. It's fine," you manage to cobble together. His touch is firm, yet gentle enough to be relaxing. Silently, you think, if he was this good with your legs, how would his hands feel on the rest of your body?

"Are you sure? I could apply more, if you prefer. I always try to start off slow, but I can go deeper, depending on how you like it."

You grip the chair's armrests in response as your mouth goes dry. "N-no, you don’t need to go deeper. What you're doing is...great.” Your voice comes out breathy, but in an effort to distract yourself, you dig your phone out of your purse and start randomly scrolling through your social media feed. Now was not the time to be getting horny over your nail technician.

He suppresses a smile at your response. "Okay then.”

******

You manage to survive the rest of the pedicure without any additional incidents, much to your relief. He slips your sandals back onto your feet with ease, without smudging your freshly painted toes, and helps you over to the manicure table.

Once you settle in your seat, you rest your hands on the cushion and dip them into a cuticle-softening solution while he sets up the rest of his tools. While waiting for your fingers to soak up the solution, he checks in with you.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“I’m good right now, thanks.”

"Okay.” Then, he leans in, lowers his voice, and asks, “How do you think I’m doing so far?"

You smile warmly at him. "I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised." Your toes didn't look streaky, nor did he get polish on your skin. You were impressed!

Your response makes him smile from ear to ear, his nose crinkling in amusement.

"Thanks. I know most women think it's weird to get a mani-pedi from a dude."

You sigh and decide to fess up. He seemed self-aware and appreciated honesty. "Well, I have to be honest—I was definitely apprehensive at first," you admit then follow it with a shrug. "But then I thought, hey, it's a job. If you can do it and have the skills for it? Why not? It shouldn't be restricted by gender."

His brow arches at your remark. "My thoughts exactly!" He agrees emphatically.

You feel another spark of electricity surge through you as he lifts your hand. You watch as he examines your fingers under the light.

“Mm…nice, long, nail beds.” His compliment followed but his thumb brushing over your fingers makes your belly flutter.

“But I bet you probably get that a lot,” he adds with a laugh.

“Not as often as you think,” you say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was coming onto you.

“Just a regular manicure, right? Not gel?”

“Yeah. I thought, if I got the gel, I can’t get the usual hand massage—”

“I can still give you the massage,” he interjects.

“Oh. But what about the oils? I thought it’s not good for the gel base?” You hesitate.

He shrugs as if it's a non-factor. "I can do the massage after I cure your nails under the light. That way, the polish adheres nicely and it’ll be all set. But if you still prefer a regular manicure, that's fine—we’ll do that. I just want you to know that you have the option," he assures you.

You purse your lips to think for a few seconds. “Well, if you’re sure the massage won’t mess with the gel—”

“It won’t, I promise!” He says confidently. “My mom’s old school and she’d never do it that way but I think that you can still make it work.” After he says it out loud, one of the female technicians next to him scoffs. Seems like she prefers the standard method, too.

Jungkook rolls his eyes subtly at her reaction and turns his attention back to you. “If you don’t like it, I’ll give you your money back.”

That sounded fair to you.

“Alright. I trust you.”

After you decide on gel polish colors, he begins to trim your cuticles and file your nails. But just when you thought you could easily survive the pedicure, him being this close, and at eye-level, was going to be an uphill battle. He looks so focused and precise in his movements; it’s relaxing to watch. Even the little pout he does while maneuvering your finger to apply the polish with the utmost precision to cover every surface of your nail is cute.

You make small talk while he works. Not the usual gossip that you’re used to with the female technicians. You feel comfortable around him but not enough to spill all of your secrets.

“So, are you doing this full-time?”

“No,” he answers before he guides your hand into the curing lamp. “I have a day job but I mostly work from home. My mom said that needed help and I didn’t hesitate to step up. She works very hard.”

Oh no…he’s not only cute but he also loves his mom. You can’t help but feel endeared. You also note that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger. Lily hasn’t mentioned any daughters-in-law, that you recall.

You decide to sound casual to break the tension a bit. “This job must be a great way to pick up women, too, huh?”

He pauses before meeting your gaze. The corner of his mouth curves into a cocky smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your cheeks heat up. You immediately realize that your comment may have crossed a line, thinking you were at that level of comfort with him just because he touched your bare feet. You kick yourself internally for being presumptuous.

“S-sorry,” you shyly tear your eyes away from him. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

He brushes off the exchange. “It’s cool. Honestly, there aren’t many women falling over themselves to go out with a male nail technician,” he says in jest. “Some people have specific perceptions. They’re usually wrong but I don’t bother to correct them.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel bad as you’d made assumptions about him too. “I mean, I think you have a lot of patience to be working on nails. Not to mention that you’re a handsome guy who gives great foot massages. I don’t see why any woman wouldn’t want to get more of that.” You catch yourself too late when you realize what you’ve just said.

He snorts your comment but doesn’t pile on it. “You’d think, right?”

You clear your throat and attempt to recover. “Well, you’re also easy to talk to. You keep the conversation flowing.” Your voice is still tight, embarrassed from your ‘cute guy who gives great foot massages’ comment.

“I appreciate that,” he smiles. He examines your nails, one last time, running the pads of his fingers over the polish to make sure that it has set properly. When he’s satisfied, he says, “Looks good. I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can get to your hand massage.” He excuses himself and gathers his tools to soak them in a cleaning solution.

When he walks away and disappears into the back room, you release a breath you seemed to be holding in for far too long. You’d never been this wound up during a mani-pedi.

A few minutes later, he returns and sets a warm towel down. He then moves the magnifying lamp out of the way, giving you a complete and unobstructed view of him. Unfortunately, this doesn't bode well for you.

“So, do you have any plans after this?” He asks casually while massaging circles into your forearms.

You’re all flustered again. “Not much. Maybe I’ll grab some mid-day coffee or something then head home.”

“Nice. Where do you grab coffee?” The feel of him dragging the pads of his fingers on your slicked skin, couple with his piercing gaze are causing your breathing to go ragged again. Suddenly, your brain blanks out on where your favorite coffee spot is.

“Just, uhm—” you struggle to pull the name out of your memory at first but manage to blurt it out when he squeezes your fingers. “It’s not far from here.”

“Oh. I don’t live in this neighborhood so I’m not familiar.” His thumb and forefinger knead your muscles in a way that should normally not feel arousing to you, but it does. And you can’t help when your thoughts slide back into wondering what else those magic fingers can do.

“I figured, if I was going to be helping out here more, maybe I should get to know the area– especially places to eat. You think you can you give me directions to the cafe?”

You shift in your seat. “Well, it’s sort of a hole-in-the-wall place. The GPS is kind of spotty on it. You have to be a local to really know where it’s at.”

“Well, my break’s coming up after this. Maybe we can drive together?”

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize it. He's not stupid, and you were right – he's definitely self-aware. He knows that you're affected by him. Smiling to yourself, you’re happy to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

Your eyebrows twitch at how forward he’s being. “A break? But it’s only 11:30?” You laugh.

“What can I say? I think I worked you really hard–”

His response makes your eyes bulge and causes your jaw to drop.

“Oh, sorry–I meant to say, you worked me really hard.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and it makes him laugh out loud, too. He was a cocky little shit but you’re not mad at it.

When your laughs die down, he says, “I think we can both agree that we did our best to fight this–” he gestures at the space between you two.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask playfully.

"Yeah. I think we deserve a little treat. Maybe grab some lunch, wherever you want." You’re mildly aware that the massage is over but his fingers are still lingering on your hands while he patiently waits for your answer.

This is one of the most unusual ways you've been asked out, but there's a first time for everything. After thinking it over, you decide to give it a chance. "Okay. But if I agree to go to lunch with you, do I still need to tip you for the mani-pedi?”

He purses his lips in thought for a few seconds before countering. "Tell you what—if you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night, the service is on the house. We can call it even then.”

His playful proposition catches you off guard but it also intrigues you. Again, you find yourself unable to resist his charm.

“Alright.”

Your response makes him smile full-on and it’s infectious, so you can’t help but smile back. He starts to clean up his station, then turns to the older nail technician next to him who saw the whole situation unfold.

“Auntie, please don’t tell my mom,” he whispers mischievously, causing her to laugh after she agrees not to rat him out.

You giggle at his request and tell him, “I guess I’ll meet you out front whenever you’re ready?”

“Sounds good. We’ll take my car so we don’t ruin my masterpiece there,” he points at your hands.

You laugh at his retort and shake your head. Never in a million years did you ever think that you’d find a date a the nail salon. It’s one of the better things to come out of your Self-Care Sundays.

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 21

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

A/N: The tag list is open! Also, so sorry to be behind on this one. Life got in the way for awhile but I'm back!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter 20~ When Two Become Three

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 21 – It's the Playoffs, Baby 

Leia 

The last six weeks have been the most wonderful dream. My little Avery came home the same day I was released from the hospital after a week-long stay. She’s perfect in every way. Andy refuses to put her down unless she’s hungry. He’s besotted with his little girl, and it just makes my chest hurt from the adorableness. It was rough the first couple of weeks with the surgery, but Andy found a night nanny to help. He also hired a housekeeper for us, Mrs. Langfield. She is a godsend. She is so helpful with the house and caring for me when Andy head-to-head back to work.  

But here we are, six weeks later, and we are attending our first home game together. Management got us our own box with the. WAGs. I am a WAG now, which is wild.  

Andy and I get to the arena early, him proudly carrying the car seat in. My social media team are on it with the arrivals, and I step out of the picture because I know that the fans will go nuts for this daddy/daughter moment. But my top assistant, Alicia, spots me.  “Leia, we have to get a picture of the happy family.”  She pulls me and we pose. I’m leaning into Andy before he pulls Avery out of the car seat so he’s holding her.  

“That’s great!” Alicia declares.  “These will be up soon, but I’ll send you the good ones,” she tells me, and I flush.  

We head to the private elevator and Andy looks down at me. “Sweetheart, why are you so red?” 

“Nothing,” I looked down at the bags. I could feel the hot tears welling behind my eyes and I was trying desperately to stop them.  

While Avery has been magical and beautiful and wonderful, I did not feel the same way about myself. I was dull, fat and blah. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I felt like all people saw now was Avery. I was nothing.  I didn’t want the photos of me to go up because next to my gorgeous boyfriend and my beautiful daughter, I was the fat lump of a woman. I tried to make an effort and done my hair and makeup, but I still felt like a fraud.  

I know that this is just post pardum feelings. I know I should talk to someone but all I want is to be home with my baby girl. I hear a throat clear, and I look up at Andy. “Baby, what’s wrong?”  I move to say nothing, but he cuts me off.  “My queen, you are sad. I can see it. Talk to me.”  

I can feel one tear fall down my cheek. “I don’t want them to post my picture,” I whisper.  

“Why?”  

“I feel gross and ugly, and I don’t want my picture there. I don’t need the whole word to know how much of a mess I am and that you have an ugly girlfriend and...” 

“Whoa, baby, stop right there.” Andy pulled us to the side, away from the crowd. “Sweetheart, you are beautiful, strong and amazing.  You cooked our little princess and protected her for nine months.  Look at her.”  I look down to the car seat where she sleeps. “You did that. You made that. That makes you a superhero Leia. That makes you, my queen. I worship at your feet because you gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”  

“But, I don’t do anything.” I start to cry. “The night nurse takes care of her when I sleep, and Mrs. Langfield takes care of her and the house. I’m useless, Andy. Just a milk machine.” I hiccup. “All anyone sees is Avery and her cow.” 

He pulls me in and holds me tight. “Oh baby, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” 

“I don’t know. You’ve been so sweet to make sure I’m being taken care of I didn’t want you to think I am ungrateful. Because I’m so grateful Andy.” I sob harder into his chest as he cradles my head.  

“Sweetheart, you have to talk to me, okay? I don’t know what help you really need if you don’t tell me.” He kisses my forehead and lets me cry for a few moments before he tilts my head back. “How about this?  We will let the night nurse go in a couple of more weeks.  But she starts to get you up to feed instead of pumping. Then when you feel more comfortable, we’ll let her go.” 

I sniffle. “That sounds good.”  

“Ok.  As for Mrs. Langfield, I’m sure we can talk to her and tell her what you need, and she’ll be able to help. I don’t want to make life harder right now we the team almost in the playoffs.”  

“You think she’ll be ok with it?” 

“I’m sure she is willing to do anything for Avery.” He gave me his dazzling smile. “I promise we’ll figure this out, ok?” 

“Ok. I love you, Andy.” 

He leaned down and kissed me softly. “I love you, my queen. Let’s get my girls settled.” He took my hand and walked me to the box. We were immediate greeted by the WAGs that are already there and they started to coo over Avery.  

Avery, my perfect princess, decides this is the time to open her eyes and show off beautiful blue green eyes.  “Oh my,” Katerina Marchand coos. “She’s gorgeous Leia.” She looks at me and her smiles falls.  “Have you been crying Leia?” 

“Oh,” I wave her off, “I’m fine.”  

“Leia, honey,” Moa sat next to me and took my hands. “You just had a baby seven weeks ago. And it wasn’t an easy birth. Its ok to not be ok.” 

I felt my lower lip wobble. “I’m just not feeling myself. I don’t know how Andy hasn’t run away because I’m so fat and ugly.”  

“Sweetie, that is absolutely not true,” Rebecca took my hands. “When we saw the post of you and Andy with the baby, David and I were commenting on how beautiful you look. It doesn’t even look like you’ve had a baby seven weeks ago.”  

I felt a big fat tear leak from my eye (stupid hormones). “Really?” 

“Yeah, really, I wish I looked half as good as you when I had our baby,” Rebecca said.  “It’s ok to feel uncomfortable and undesirable but that’s just the flood of hormones talking.  David has told me that Andy can’t stop showing off pictures of the baby and you. How sweet and peaceful his girls are. It's so sweet.”  

“Brad was telling me the same thing,” Katerina said. “You grew a human; you can be a little off for a while.” 

These ladies have embraced me as one of their own and I am forever grateful for it. I hadn’t had many girlfriends, just Stella and eventually, Miranda. But these women are ready to take me in and show me the ropes. “Thank you, ladies. Really, it means a lot.”  

“What does Andy say about all of this?” Moa asked.  

“He was upset I hadn’t said anything.  We’re going to make some changes that make sense and hopefully it will help.” I swallowed.  “He’s been so good to me, to us.” 

Moa smiled. “I knew that man was made to be a father.”  

A week later, life turned upside down.  We had talked to Mrs. Langfield, and she was more than happy to show me the ropes to being a mom. “I raised four of my own. It isn’t easy but it is the most rewarding thing you will ever do.” she patted my hand, and we went to work.  I thought that would end the drama, but it didn’t.  

Stella ended up on my doorstep while the guys were still in New York after clinching a playoff berth and she was a mess. “Stel?” 

“I need to hide out here for a while, please,” she said as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.  

“Of course, sweetie,” as I pulled her in. “What’s going on?” 

“Have you seen the headlines about the Bruins?” 

“Uh, no.” I picked up my phone. While I was still on maternity leave, I was trying to keep up with all the posts and letting my team know of any discrepancies. I scrolled and I saw the article about Jeremy going back to his partying ways.  “What the... I don’t understand.  I thought he was cleaning up his act and doing a damn good job at it.”  

“Yeah, he was.” She sniffed and wiped her nose.  “Because we had been taking care of each other.”  She looked at her lap and I froze.  

“You and Jeremy. You were, what?” 

“We were in a ‘friends with benefits’ situation.” She looked at me with sorrow. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but he was there when I broke up with Kevin and then it was supposed to be one night. But we didn’t stop, and it was great. I thought we were getting serious but then this and...” she breaks down and sobs and I wrap my arms around her.  

“It's going to be ok, Stel. You can stay here as long as you like.  I’m sure there is a perfectly good explanation and when you are ready, we’ll get the truth.”  

I feel for my friend. It's obvious that she’s in love with him. I’m not sure how I missed it but now she needed me to take care of her.  

Jeremy was benched soon after, not sure why. I would have to wait for Andy to get home.  

Andy 

What a shit show. 

Jeremy getting sent home is the last things I was expecting after his shutout performance. But I guess management didn’t like the photos and I couldn’t speak to the GM right away.  I finally caught up with him and explained that Jeremy had turned down the girl and I walked with him to his hotel room.  That Jeremy admitted to having a girlfriend whom he loved very much.  Once that got cleared up, they allowed him to rejoin the team once we got home.  

It was the day before the first playoff game and we would be on the road to Toronto. I was packing my bag when I hear, “Andy!”  

Fuck, Leia sounds panicked. I race down the stairs. “Leia, baby, what’s wrong?”  

She’s clutching our daughter like her life depended on it. “My mother messaged me, and I panicked. I’m sorry, I just... why is she doing this?” 

“Let me see the message.” I pick up the phone to read. 

Monica: I heard that you had the baby. I would like to meet with you and my granddaughter alone. We need to discuss yours and your daughter’s future.  

What the fuck. I look at my girl and she is afraid. “What is she trying to do?” 

“I don’t know but you know as soon as she realizes that you and Luke are gone, she’ll try to ambush me.”  

I didn't even think about that. Fuck, I can’t leave her here alone. But an idea forms, and I whipped out my phone. I send a message to the GM and he replies automatically. “Ok, sweetheart, why don’t you and Avery join us on the road?” 

“What?” 

“I just messaged the GM about having you on the trip. I told him it was a safety thing but since you are still the social media director, you still have the option to travel with us.”  

“But won’t I have to work? Who will watch Avery?” 

“My queen, I can guarantee she will have about 20 babysitters when she’s not with us.  Plus, Stella is going as well, so she can hold the baby if you need take some pictures and stuff. What do you say? Come be my lucky charm?” 

Babies, as it turns out, need a lot of stuff.  But it didn’t bother me in the slightest because it just meant that my girls were with me on the road.  Three suitcases later, I carried my baby girl onto the plane.  

“Holy shit! Princess Avery is in the house!” Jeremy yelled as he went to reach for her. He took the carrier off me and took her to his seat with Linus.  

“I guess Sway is taking the first shift,” I said to Leia who smiled. I pulled her to my row so she could sit with me and Luke. I get her settled and then go over to check on the baby with our goalies.  Linus already has her out of the carrier and in his arms, telling her something in Swedish. Jeremy just plays with her toes as he watched. “You guys good with her?” 

“Go away, Barber,” Linus says. “My niece and I are discussing all the things we will be doing when she visits me in Sweden.”  

Jeremy grins. “And I am making sure all of these toes are perfect. Shoo.” I chuckled.   

“Hey, I want to hold my niece as well,” David says.  

“Uh, she’s my niece too,” Brad says with a dramatic pout. The arguing gets loud, and Avery takes objection to it by letting out a loud wail.  I swoop in to take her into my arms.  

“Avery, my princess, what’s wrong? Did your uncles get too loud? You didn’t like big loud men scaring you?” I cooed at her. Her eyes open slightly. “There’s my girl.” She gives me a sleepy smile. I walk back to our seats to the protest of my teammates. “When you guys get a schedule down, then you can have her.  Until then, she’s with daddy.”  

“Yes, Captain,” I hear them all grumble. I smile as I sit with my girl. Leia leans on my shoulder to stare at my girl. She’s been getting better with the post-partum. She still has moments where she curls up and cries. We talked about maybe seeing someone to help her. I tell her every day that there is no shame, no shame whatsoever if she needs help. Mrs. Langfield has been a godsend.  She has been there for Leia when I have been on the road. Once she understood what was happening, she immediately knew what to do when I was so utterly lost.  

The flight was smooth sailing. Avery was a gem and we arrived in Toronto without an issue. Avery’s passport is so adorable and gets so many reactions as we go through customs.  We pile onto the bus and head to the hotel. I get my girls into their room (stupid travel rule: can’t sleep away from the team) and make sure they have everything they need. “I have a team meeting and then a walk through.  I’ll be a couple of hours, but Linus and Jeremy will be here since their schedule is different.  But if you need me, call me.” I kiss the top of Avery’s head before I softly kiss Leia.  “I love you.”  

“I love you. We’ll be okay, won’t we baby girl?” Leia talks to Avery as she sleeps.  “Shoo, I promise, I’m ok.”  

She’s got this, my brave warrior queen.  

Leia 

Avery and I walk down the team floor in search of a couple of goalies.  I find them going over tape in a conference room at the end of their hall. “Hey guys!” 

“Hey Leia,” Jeremy says, glancing at me before doing a double take when he sees Avery. “It’s the princess! He moves to take her from me and starts to walk around telling her secrets I can’t hear.  

“How are you, Leia?” Linus asks. Linus is a father twice over, so I know he knows about the post-partum. Moa, his wife, has been a godsend with the advice. 

“I’m getting better.  Being on the road is a good distraction.” I smile. “I actually need your guys' help.”  

“What's up?” Jeremy asks. I explain what I want to do, and the guys look at me funny. “Don’t you want a girlfriend for this?” 

“She has stuff to do while she’s here.” I don’t say her name because I know that she and Jeremy are still not speaking. When I thought about it, they make sense.  He is perfect for her and vice versa. The pictures looked bad but when Andy explained what had happened, I tried to talk to Stella, but she was not having it.  

“I’ll grab one of their sticks,” Linus offered. He went out to the equipment storage room, leaving me with Jeremy.  

Its awkward for a moment, until I hear, “is she ok?” I look up at him and my heart breaks for him. I’ve never seen the look in his eyes before. When he was angry, sure. Happy, all the time. But what he has is heart break because I can see that he is in love with my best friend.  

“She’s putting on a strong front, but I know she is heartbroken too. I’m trying to talk to her because Andy told me what happened, but she’s been hurt like this before. She’s protecting herself.”  

“From me? I told the guys I am in love that night. It's been her for a while. I was planning on telling her.” His posture is turn down in defeat.   

“Oh, Jer, I’m sorry.” I sit next to him and put my head on his shoulder.  

“I’m going to get her back Leia.  I have to. She’s my everything.”  

We hear the door opening and Jeremy wipes at his eyes. Linus comes in with two sticks and a couple of rolls of tape. He sees Jeremy’s eyes and frowns. “Everything ok?” 

“Yes Linus. Just reminiscing about the birth.” I look down at the stroller with Avery asleep. “Never got to properly thank Jer for holding my hand. I’m still sorry about your hand.”  

“Swear it’s the reason I got the shutout in New York,” he says with a wink. “So, do you have the paint?” 

Andy 

We’re headed out to warm up for game one when Alicia stops me and Luke.  “Guys, we need you to take some photos with some specialty sticks.” She guides us to the ice before handing us the sticks. We both pose before I look at the stick. And I choke up. “Alicia?” 

“Leia wanted to make them for you.” She smiled as she continues to snap pictures.  

On the tape of the blades are tiny hand and footprints in pink with the words “good luck daddy love Avery” painted on them. I see Luke wiping his eyes as he stares at his, the words “kick butt Uncle Luke” written on his. I look up and I see Leia with Avery in her carrier standing behind the bench. I get as close as I can. “You did this?” 

“I had some help but yeah. We’re so proud of you Andy.” She looks down at Avery, who has on the tiniest ear defenders on, in pink, of course. “I love you. Go kick some Toronto ass.” She presses her hand to the glass, and I reach up with mine.  

“I love you my queen and my princess.”  

I don’t play with that stick, but I leave it in the tunnel for luck.  And luck did it bring. We won that game and the next one to take the series back home. I’ve decided to keep that stick in my locker and take it with me for every game this playoff season.  

After we land, I tuck my girls into the car. Avery had a rough night, so Leia and I are dog tired. I had stayed on the phone with Leia while she worked to sooth Avery. She finally conked out around three A.M., and we had a flight at eight. Nobody was a happy camper but luckily, Avery stayed asleep in Luke’s arms, giving me and Leia some much needed rest.  

We have a light practice this afternoon and I keep thinking of things we need to get now that we are home. Maybe I can take Leia to bed. We’ve only started to fool around now that she has the all clear from her doctor. The thought of having her body under me starts to make me hard and I almost miss seeing a black Mercedes parked in front of the house and my defenses goes up. All thoughts of a sexy nap with my girl fly out the window. I pull the car all the way in the garage and close the door.  “Leia, stay inside with Avery.”  

“Andy? What’s the matter?”  

“I don’t know baby, but just stay inside. Don't open the door unless you see on the camera that I am alone.”  I move to go out the side door, lock it and pull it close. I move to the front of house and the car doors open.   

Fuck my life.  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @tinkerbelle67 @before-we-get-started @bunnyforhim @alexakeyloveloki @sunnyhummingbee @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaceinourtime82 @saucy-sassy-sparkly @kmc1989 @kandis-mom @lokislady82

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

11. Polishing your Post 

Publishing your story can be scary because once it’s out in the world, it’s literally out of your hands. 

Like editing, preparing your publication can be a little tedious. I assume you want to post your fic to tumblr, so keep in mind that, although you can always edit your post, reblogs from other people can’t be changed later on. So if you have, say, a typo, you can only change it in your original post. You put so much work into your fic, so it’s only natural that you want lots of people to read it. You already made your draft look nice and proper, but you’ll want to do the same for your tumblr post. Here’s a quick rundown of how to make your post more appealing: 

First things first: Open a new text post. You should be able to just copy and paste your draft from your writing program; tumblr will usually adopt your draft’s formatting (at least when you copy and paste from Google Docs on your computer!). 

Save the post as a draft. As I said before, I suggest you re-read your story again at this point—you’ll be able to see what the post is going to look like once you post it, and you’ll probably find some typos you missed in the editing process. It’s also easier to draft it because you’ll go back and forth fixing and updating your post anyway. 

Tag your post properly. You want your post to reach the right people. I’ll go into more detail about tagging here.

Find a good title for your fic. Titles are the first thing a potential reader will see when they stumble upon your fic, so choose them wisely. A good title can be whatever you deem fit, it’s really coming down to personal taste. I recommend going for something that captures the essence of your draft, but using lyrics, titles of songs or poems etc. is always a safe bet.

Place necessary warnings for your story at the top of your post. The same goes for a short description/excerpt of your story. If you cross-post your work to e.g. ao3, you can embed a link, too. If you have a beta reader, make sure to give them a shout-out, too!

Make your post look nice. Maybe add a banner/GIF/divider/etc.. If you haven’t made them yourself, make sure their creators are fine with you using their work before you publish your post and give credits! 

Tumblr has a “keep reading” tool—use that either right after your header or after the first couple of sentences of your story. It just looks nicer to have a compact version on your dashboard. 

Generally, you want to give your readers a quick overview of what’s to expect in your fic. 

Example (forgive the bad handwriting):

Now that you’ve done all that, and you’re happy with your draft and your post…well, it’s time to hit post—and voilá! You’ve just shared your very own fanfic with the world. Good job, I’m so proud of you! ♡

Next: How to Tag 

Masterlist

[blissfulalchemist]

How about Section 1 for a ship of your choice? :)

Thank you so much for asking!!!! I did this set for Anthea and Hythlodaeus!

Warning for spoilerish things throughout for FFXIV!

1. How did they first meet?

They met at the Bureau of Architecture when Anthea fell into him after being bumped by a rushing person (yes they found it embarrassing). They were there to bring forth their latest accidental creation and was then unknowingly assigned to meet with Hythlodaeus who would then invite Anthea to a dinner with Venat and Hades as they were staying the night in a city they weren’t really familiar with. 

2. What was their first impression of each other?

Anthea found him to be the most beautiful and politest man they’d ever met! He just has an air about him that makes one feel at ease. Hythlodaeus’ impression of them was they were very humble and full of life and a love for it despite their wallflower-ness. Meeting them in person really just made their file make much more sense seeing as Anthea had plenty of “mistakes”.

3. Who felt romantic feelings first?

This probably happened around the same time for both of them with Anthea taking a little longer as they didn’t have the same kind of relationships that Hythlodaeus had around him. It didn’t even really occur to Anthea until someone made a passing comment on how much more willing they were to go to the city when they hated to do so prior to the creation of the Elpis flower.

4. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Anthea just a little more being hesitant in life in general and there’s this kind of like “Well he’s just too cool to ever be interested in someone like me” despite that man being very much as humble as them and believing that he also isn’t good enough for someone like them.

5. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Their lives were always destined to end one way so it doesn’t really matter. Anthea would be the most effected by this as they wouldn’t ever have found their purpose, been lonely staying as a researcher on Elpis, and would have been one of the many souls sacrificed instead of becoming the Watcher on the moon.

6. What was their “flirting stage” like?

Anthea kind of bumbling around trying to figure out just how to get this man’s attention while not being embarassing, Hythlodaeus being much more at ease and not even aware until thinking about it later and equating it to the skill being something else he’s useless in. Really it was a lot of conversations and helping the other in different things, with the occasional “accidental” creation to have an excuse to see each other again.

7. How do their friends and family feel about them as a couple?

Hades could do without their sunshine and sweetness thank you very much, six feet away please. In all seriousness though he actually likes them as a couple very much, they complement each other, he hasn’t ever seen his friend happier, and finds Anthea the most rational of the group (meaning they laugh the least when he becomes the butt of a joke, which is often). While they never become best friends like he is with Hythlodaeus, they are someone that he feels some of the most grief over as they chose to be against him despite also having desires to bringing back Hythlodaeus.

Venat adores them and still pokes fun at the fact that Hythlo was so friendly that Anthea believed he was trying to set them up with Hades. She does feel guilt after the memory wipe because she can’t bring them into the fold with her knowledge of the future especially because it pains her to see when Hythlo doesn’t remember but Anthea remembers Azem’s familiar being with them in that time. Its this knowledge that makes sure she lets them be as happy as they can be. When Anthea asks to help her, Venat gives them the job of the Watcher because she knows how soft spoken they are, how kind, how serious they will take this duty, how much they loved Hythlodaeus and what he believes in making them the perfect person to help in shepherding the souls when it’s time back into the aetherial sea. She also knows that they were a reason that Hythlodaeus sacrificed himself to bring forth Zodiark and if given the opportunity those two wouldn’t want to be where they couldn’t keep an eye on the other for what was going to be a very very long time.

Azem, even while sundered, adores their soft love. There’s something just so comforting about being around them that it stays with their soul so their shards on the Source at least seek out that same feeling without realizing it. They loved to bring Anthea flowers and watch as they would admire them, eventually teaching them how to make crowns with them that were placed on Hythlodaeus who would talk about them in length when he helped them on the travels around the star with such a smile that grows when those two finally see each other once more. When their shards find them again post-Endwalker its the only time they are granted an original memory from their life as Azem.

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

Shadows and Scars

Chapter 17

Here is the long awaited chapter 17! I’ve been feeling really down lately but managed to finish this and am feeling better. I’ll try to post more frequently. (So I had this episode written a while ago but lost what I had written and had to rewrite it so that’s why it’s taken a while lol. Also, this chapter does contain non con smut (my first time writing it), but I purposely wrote it the way I did so that this chapter can be skipped if you are uncomfortable with non con. If you are not comfortable with it, please do not read this chapter.)

Trigger warnings: non con smut, smut, mind control, language, dark themes, pure filth

Banner made by maysdigitalarts

You had spent the whole day yesterday in bed, mourning the loss of your friend, and your own stupidity.

Aleksander had spent the majority of the day in his war room making plans for your inauguration into his guard and reviewing troop movements. The only time he had come back to see you was during lunch and dinner as he dined with you. You didn’t eat much, much to his displeasure, but he didn’t force you to eat more than you had wanted.

That night he had crawled into bed next to you and held you like a lover would. You didn’t sleep that night. Anya’s face, the only thing you saw when you closed your eyes. How she was dead because the darkling felt that he had some sick claim over you.

You didn’t cry that night. Not like you had the night before. Tonight you had just felt nothing. Only an ache that constantly sat in the pit of your stomach. You just laid there and stared.

The morning came too quickly, and Aleksander rose early with a carefree smile. He rambled about something you couldn’t force yourself to pay attention to, and sat up slowly.

Aleksander got ready quickly and after looking at you, furrowed his brow. “I’ll call for Genya.” He produced your kefta from his study and laid it on the bed next to you. “We don’t have ceremonies for new members, but I was thinking that the two of us could go for a ride later.” He gently said.

You shrugged slowly and took in your haggard appearance in the mirror. Your eyes were rimmed with redness and there were dark circles underneath them. Your hair was sticking up at odd ends and your face was puffy from crying.

“Or not.” He said sarcastically. “Darling, I'm trying to make this work.” He placatingly placed his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes.

You said nothing and his face twisted into a scowl. “I know I was a bit harsh the other day.” He continued, toying with the edges of your hair. “But this was always going to happen. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can be happy.”

You felt anger appear again and scowled at him. “Happy?” You yelled, pushing him off of you. “How the hell can I be happy when Anya is dead because of you? When Ravka is split in half because of you? When I’m stuck here because of you?” With each ‘you’ your voice rose and you started to laugh hysterically.

Aleksander blinked in surprise at your outburst before scowling again. “Everything that I have done since we met has been in our best interests! In Ravka’s best interests! I understand you’re upset about your friend but perhaps you could show a little gratitude.”

You scoffed. “Gratitude? You’re fucking insane.” You hissed venomously at him. “What should I be thanking you for? Sending me through the fold? Killing someone who was the closest thing I ever had to a sister? Controlling me like a fucking puppet?”

“I could have killed you.” He said icily. “Back when you first came out of the fold, but I didn’t. I am the reason you have the abilities that you do and I am the reason you haven’t died yet. I saved you from dying that day years ago and now I’m the monster?”

“You should’ve let me die.” You said lowly. “Saved us both the trouble, and yes. You are a monster, you are everything the Lantslovs and the non grisha said you were.”

He straightened at that and his face went blank and void of emotion. You felt your body lock up as he slowly walked back towards you. “Darling, I haven’t even begun to be monstrous yet, but if that’s what you expect then that is what you’ll get.”

He smiled cruelly at you before shoving you back onto the bed and straddling your hips.

“What the hell are you-“ Your eyes widened as he ripped off your night shirt with one motion and caressed you softly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss.

You tried to move your arms, to push him off of you, but they stayed firmly at your sides. Panic started to cloud you as he fiddled with your pants and slid them off.

When he finally stopped the kiss to breathe, you started pleading. “Aleksander, please don’t do this.” You whispered desperately. “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean what I said I swear I was just mad!”

He just gave you a cruel smile as he ripped off your pants and underwear, fully exposing yourself to him.

He said nothing as he took in your trembling frame with an eager look before fiddling with his own pants and pulling them down to expose his cock, but still remaining clothed.

You felt yourself hyperventilate as he lazily ran his hands all over you. In an effort to look anywhere but at the man on top of you, you looked down and accidentally stared at his cock.

He chuckled as he gripped it and started to tease your folds with its tip, seemingly enjoying your little squeaks and protests.

He shushed you softly, as he started to sheath himself into you slowly. You felt your folds stretch in order to fit his wide girth as he fully pushed inside of you.

“Fuck.” He cursed. “Even better than I’d thought you’d be.” He grunted as you clenched around him tightly. “I bet you can feel all of me can’t you my love?” He laughed as you started to cry and looked anywhere but at him. Sure enough you could feel his whole length inside of you, as it brushed against your walls.

You flinched as he gripped your face tightly and yanked it over to face him and he looked at you with a proud smile. “You like it? Me having you split open on my cock? Huh?” He pulled out slowly, only leaving his tip inside and his usually well kept hair was falling into his face as he stared at you.

Instead of allowing you to answer, he thrusted into you with one fluid motion and started to move his hips. You silently screamed at the intrusion as his balls bounced against your clit in a way that made you see stars.

“I think you do.” He huffed out, starting to pick up speed until he was rutting into you roughly. “I'm gonna enjoy having my own whore around aren’t I?” He grunted and continued moving his hips. You felt a coil of pleasure start to build inside of you as he continued.

“Gonna have to have you suck me off in meetings.” His thrusts started to become more jerky as he neared his peak. “Saints, I wonder how good you taste.” He smirked as you unconsciously clenched around him even harder at that.

“Definitely gonna have to eat you out now.” His eyes shone as he reached his hand in between your thighs and rubbed your clit. “Can’t wait to hear you moan as my tongue’s inside of you.” The pleasure you had been fighting against began to overwhelm you at his words and you felt shame rise as he pleasured you.

You moaned at one particularly strong thrust and arched your back as you felt an orgasm quickly approach.

“That’s it my love, come around me, wanna feel your cunt squeeze me even more.”

You hated the situation you were in. The man on top of you, the power he held over you, and the pleasure he forced your body to take. But a part of you hated yourself as you surrendered to the bliss and came around him with a loud cry.

“Oh god.” You felt him slowly fuck you through your orgasm before fully shoving himself inside of you.

You didn’t even fully realize that the heat that was now inside of you was him cumming inside of you as much as he could, the pleasure that wrecked your body still flooding your mind.

Aleksander groaned above you as his cock emptied into you and memorized the blissed out look on your face.

Shivers ran up your spine as he pulled out slowly and shuffled over to your mouth. “Now open.”

You felt your mouth do as he wanted and he kneeled beside your head before smearing his cock on your face. “Do you want to see what you taste like?” You knew he wasn’t expecting an answer when he slapped his cock onto your cheek and groaned as he flicked his fingers.

You felt your tongue start to seek out his member and sensually licked his length. He shuddered as he controlled the motions of your tongue against him before slowly pushing into your mouth. He started to rock his hips against your face, as he tangled his hands in your hair. “That’s a good whore.”

You felt numb as he started to groan louder and thrusted harder into you. A loud noise came out of you as he went in deep enough to make you gag, but he continued his motions until a warm flooded down your throat and he ordered you to swallow. You did as best as you could, just trying to get this over with and not choke on him.

When he had finally pulled out of your mouth, he pressed small kisses to your neck before lying next to you and wrapping you into his warm embrace.

“Let that be a lesson my dear.” You curled in on yourself. “I can be much worse if you try to defy me.”

The effects of your orgasm started to wear off as he tucked his chin into the crook of your neck.

“I hate you.” You whispered softly, you knew he heard it when he chuckled into your neck.

“For now. But that’ll change. The years will pass and you’ll grow to love me. And if you try to find solace, I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no shelter but mine.”

[spicyicymeloncat]

Rewriting Ninjago s11 Part 1

Intro:

Hi!! This is the Ninjago s11 rewrite (part 1) that took me actual months to do (mostly because of the art I did later on, also I did this through exam season because I’m CRAZY) Let me say that this is one of my favourite seasons. It’s fresh, it’s funny, it has a lot of concepts that are really interesting! But it also has a lot of concepts that don’t make sense in execution and it’s a real shame. You could say this season has some wasted true potential (ha).

So I’m gonna approach it in a similar way I did with my rant about s8/9 (which was ages ago but oh well) but I’m gonna state my problems alongside my possible solutions/rewrites (actually I only did this for the fire chapter, Ice chapter is purely rewrite without much criticism of the original material)! Again this is all done in fun with love and it’s just my opinion! Also keep in mind that I’m not a show writer I’m a nerd with a tumblr blog, and this isn’t gonna be perfectly executable as a show. Aldo whilst I did try to keep in mind time limits in episode, I have most definitely failed at writing episodes keeping within the times constraints of 10 minutes. I rewrote like 1 and bit episodes of fire chapter and then all of ice chapter. But they will be in separate posts because I want to use this post just to discuss some general themes I want for the season.

So just to establish something before I get into it, some theme stuff. So like I always forget that this season’s called secrets of forbidden spinjitzu because the scrolls are so irrelevant and we never really learn any secrets so like what’s the point. The only thing we really know about the scrolls are that the fsm made them, they are powerful and they corrupt. So let’s add emphasis on that last point. I also want to link in the mirror of fears (because that’s such a cool concept), in the mix. So what if the scroll has the power to emphasise powers but also others greatest fears. Yknow we’re adding a little spice to this. I’ll elaborate on what I mean about this later. Also the scrolls are going to be much more linked to the never realm. This season will also be roughly following the themes of good-guy-turned-bad as well as the prospect of revenge amongst other things. Also the importance of power although that was already present in canon. Hopefully I did a good job presenting my themes in the actual rewrite which will be linked below.

Links:

Part 1(intro): Here!

Part 2 (Fire chapter)

Part 3 (Ice chapter episodes 16-23)

Part 4 (Ice chapter episodes 24 to 30)

Part 5 (outro)

Bonus art:

Never trust a human episode cover

Ice chapter all banners

[savannah-5555]

“Falling Fast”

written for @call-me-the-cassie for the holidays! Jily fluff for the prompt, “Person A waiting at person B's bedside for them to wake up after an injury/accident/illness”. I’m such a dork and forgot my FFnet password, but will post there later!

~5k words, rated T for kissing

Happy holidays! xx

The energy of the Gryffindor common room was abuzz with a jittering excitement with anticipation for tomorrow’s semi-final match against Hufflepuff for a chance to play for the Quidditch cup. Lily and Mary had sprawled out in front of a roaring fire-place to create a large banner. Mary, the artist, was meticulously outlining the head of a large lion that was going to bare its teeth while roaring.

“It’s too cute,” Dorcas told them from the couch, “It needs to be more ferocious.”

“You could help you know,” Mary said crossly, waving her want to undo her last few brush strokes, beginning again.

“I’m supervising,” Dorcas lounged back on the couch, interlacing her fingers behind her head, “You’re the artist, I’m a creative director.”

Lily rolled her eyes as she began to fill in the big bold script, GO GRYFFINDOR! She rolled up the sleeves of her maroon jumper, sitting back on her knees to observe her script. “This is about where my artistic abilities stop.”

“What about this?” Mary’s head turned back to Dorcas who gave an approving nod before saying, “What are your thoughts about having a badger in between its teeth…?”

“Absolutely not,” Mary laughed, “McGonagall would kill us.”

“Yeah, but she would laugh first,” Lily giggled, scrunching her nose, “Do you think Marlene is still at practice? They’ve been down there a while.”

“Say what you mean,” Mary nudged Lily who had to reach out a hand to prevent herself from toppling over, “We know you haven’t been checking the portrait-way every five minutes because you want to know where Marlene is.”

Lily flushed deeply scarlet, “It’s getting late!”

“Probably because a certain quidditch captain that you happen to be snogging is probably running them into the ground with last minute strategy drills,” Dorcas wiggled her eyebrows in Lily’s direction. Lily took the opportunity to resume her work on the banner, adding swirling banners to outline their banner.

“I’ll have you know, he happens to be a fantastic snogger,” Lily did not look up at her friends who were making kissing noises behind her back.

“I’d hope so with the amount of time you two have been sneaking around,” Dorcas chided.

“We have not been sneaking-”

“Dee, if you’re going to be running your mouth, you have to help,” Mary directed Dorcas to the paint brushes, “You can start filling this guy in.”

Dorcas slunk off the couch, heaping the burnt yellow paint onto her brush as she started filling in a textured pattern into his mane. The fire crackled cheerily next to the trio as they filled in their lion.

“Hey Evans!” Sirius Black strolled down the staircase from the boys dormitory, pocketing a small mirror into his pajama pants pocket. Sirius’ black hair was pulled back into a half ponytail, some straggling strands framing his face. A red shirt was draped over one of his shoulders. He sauntered over to them, “Nice work ladies,” he nodded appreciatively towards their banner.

“Can I help you Black?” Lily lifted her eyes to acknowledge Sirius for a brief moment before returning to her work.

“Just wanted to let you know your mans is done driving our team into the ground and will be up in a few,” Sirius extended a slippered foot to tap her shoulder for full attention.

“If he’s anyone’s man, he’s yours,” Lily gave Sirius her most saccharine smile before pushing his foot away.”

Sirius deftly re-gained his footing, “If you say so… nice jumper by the way. Is it new?”

Lily looked down to the cream color knit she was wearing, three-times her size and did not bother to dignify Sirius' comment with an answer. Clearly proud of himself for flustering Lily, Sirius opened his mouth to continue to prod at her.

“Same rules for you, Black,” Mary cut him off, “If you’re gonna run your mouth you have to help.”

“I’m done, I’m done,” Sirius held his hands up, backing away until the back of his knees contacted the couch and he lounged back.

“So matching jerseys tomorrow?” Dorcas asked her friends, “Me and Mare have Marlene’s extras and you’re wearing Potter’s, yeah?” she directed to Lily.

Lily was so taken aback that she failed to miss the side-grin Dorcas threw to Sirius.

“Oh, erm, well, no I thought I was going to wear Marlene’s with you two? For solidarity?” Wearing a boy’s jersey seemed awfully couple-y and though Lily had assumed she and James were exclusive, they had yet to clearly define their relationship. They were definitely dating, she mused internally. Technically their first date to Hogsmeades since they moved past “only friends” was a group hang-out, but then her girlfriends had decided to go dress shopping while they were enroute to Honeydukes. Shortly afterwards, Remus told them he reported he had developed a stomach ache and Sirius offered to walk with him back to the castle. Peter had detention and had not been able to join them.

This had left her and James to spend their afternoon alone together. As they walked out of Honeydukes to head to a late lunch at the Three Broomsticks, James had said, “Evans, you dropped this.” Lily turned to him, hand extended when he interlaced his fingers with hers. “Real smooth,” she laughed but did not let go. By the end of their date she had kissed him. And by the end of the evening, he had kissed her several more times.

“Nah they only get three each,” Sirius told her, “But you know… that would leave James with two extras. So lucky for you….” his eyebrows wiggled as he pulled the garment off his shoulder and threw it at Lily so it covered her face, “Ta-daaaaa!” He proceeded to fully recline into the couch, arms interlaced behind his head.

Lily pulled the offending article of clothing off her face to fully look at it, right as the Gryffindor quidditch team trudged through the portrait hole.

“Alright team, hit the showers and get to bed,” James instructed as he ushered them through into the common room.

“Alright DAD,” Marlene rolled her eyes, “We’re going we’re going.” She strode in the direction of her friends in front of the fire, “Whatcha got there, Lil?”

“--oh erm, it’s nothing–,” Lily quickly lowered the scarlet jersey with thick gold stitching reading “POTTER” across the chest.

“Don’t worry, Prongs” Sirius called out, his eyes shut, a playful smirk on his face, “I did it so you don’t have to get your knickers in a twist all night debating the issue.”

“What’re you going off–” James walked over, stopping behind Sirius, his eyes moving towards Lily and then to the object in her hands.

“Sorry I didn’t–”

“--Oh you don’t have to wear–”

“He just threw it–”

“--it’s fine–”

“--I don’t have to wear–”

Lily focused her attention to James’ left ear, unable to fully look him in the face. He had not asked her to wear his jersey, and clearly he had not asked Sirius to give it to her. Maybe this was too much too soon for them. Her heart sank in her chest at the thought that he might not want her to wear it.

“Perfect!” Mary’s voice interjected over their embarrassed stammers, “Now we all have jerseys for tomorrow. Thanks for lending it, James.” She said it with a finality that James knew better than to backtrack.

“Thanks for lending it, Sirius,” Sirius corrected her, “No one credits me with anything around here.”

“Thank you very much, Sirius,” James’ tone was clipped though his smile stayed easy-going. Sirius yelped as James clapped him on the shoulder a little too hard.

“Don’t you have to shower and go to bed now?” Sirius asked him, “Would be a bit hypocritical for you to stay up and hang out after ordering the rest of the team around, yeah?”

James ignored Sirius, “G’night everyone. Banner looks awesome by the way.” He waved at everyone and threw Lily a wink before heading for the boys’ dormitory.

Lily scurried up from her knees to follow-him, heart hammering against her chest with embarrassment from her friends’ antics.

“James-wait up!” She caught him on the fourth step up.

“Hey,” James’ face lit up when he turned to see her come after him.

“What? No goodnight kiss? Afraid I might jinx you?” she teased him, gently pushing one of his shoulders.

“Nah, if anything you’re my good luck charm,” James took a step down to bring their faces closer together. His hand found her waist as he pulled her towards him and pressed his lips against hers. His lips warm and inviting against hers and she felt herself smile into him.

“Sorry about Sirius,” James pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, “He can be a prat when he wants to be.”

“I don’t have to–”

“--I wanted to ask you–”

They both stopped mid-sentence again. Lily bit her lip and looked down to the jersey in her hands.

“Can I wear this tomorrow?” Lily tried again, looking up to meet James’ eyes.

“I would love it if you wore my jersey, Evans,” James kissed her again.

“Great,” her butterflies subsided substantially.

“Great,” he repeated, kissing her hairline, his hand squeezing her hip, “I hate to do this, but I do have to head up, you know. ‘Lead by example’ and whatnot.”

“Of course,” Lily reached her arms to encircle his neck and hug him close, “G’night, James.”

“Night, Lil.”  Lily watched as his form disappeared around the spiral staircase. Thank Merline for quidditch pants, she thought as she rejoined her friends.

***********

“March definitely went out like a lion,” Lily yelled over the roar of wind combined with the whoops of the Gryffindor student section. Her hair was whipping across her face, as she jumped up and down supporting the top right corner of their sign. She felt exceptionally thankful that she and Remus had perfected their warming charms back in January. Lily, Mary, and Dorcas would have never been able to ditch their robes and display Marlene and James’ quidditch jerseys without it. Fan behavior, Sirius had joked when they all headed out to the pitch together. That’s the whole point, Black, Mary had pointed out.

“Should be good for us then, eh!” Sirius shouted back to her from his corner of the banner, tapping his wand to their homemade tapestry eliciting a ROARRRR from Mary’s lion. Dorcas jumped, clutching her chest “Oy! Give a girl a warning will you?”

“Interesting strategy for Gryffindor, it appears their seeker is having a trailing chaser this match,” Blake Jordan’s unbothered tenor boomed across the pitch, “Haven’t seen this before, but I’m sure the Gryffindor captain has a method to the madness.”

“You know Lee, it does make a lot of sense to me actually,” Eddie Bones, chimed in on the loudspeaker, “You see, Gryffindor’s offense and Hufflepuff’s defense are very evenly matched. Hufflepuff’s strategy is to distract the young Gryffindor seeker, only his first year on the roster after being pulled up from the developing squad to the main line-up.”

“What do they mean?” Lily called out to her friend group, watching as James flew up to relieve Marlene from her post, two broomstick’s lengths lagging behind Jack Robbins, the Gryffindor seeker. James appeared to yell some words of encouragement to Jack who’s flight pattern became more determined as his shoulders squared and picked up his speed.

“Those bastard badgers have been pelting bludgers at Robbins all game,” Dorcas turned her head towards Lily, cupping her hands so that her voice would carry, “James is sacrificing a chaser to make sure that he doesn’t get hit.”

“So he can focus on finding the snitch without worrying so much about where the bludgers are coming from,” Sirius added. “Robbins took a pretty big hit last year on the practice squad and hasn’t been able to fully shake it off.”

“How did he make it on the team then?” Lily’s brow furrowed as her eyes tracked James and Jack across the quidditch pitch.

“Prongs says he has the best broomstick control out of anyone in the school.”

As if on cue, Lily made out a brief shouted command from James and Jack pulled his broomstick up to a vertical 90 degree angle narrowly avoiding collision with a bludger. The Gryffindor student section let out a collective exhale of relief.

“Marlene thinks if Robbins can get his confidence up, he’d rival Evan Rosier,” Dorcas made a face mentioning the seventh year Slytherin seeker, “Evan may be a prick, but he is objectively the best seeker out of all four houses.”

“10 points to Gryffindor!” Eddie called out to the crowd, “Gryffindor now leads 60-50.”

“Both teams are evenly matched, it will likely come down to who can find the snitch.”

Doesn’t it always? Lily thought to herself. Who made up this scoring system anyway? It truly did not make any sense to her, no matter how many times Marlene or James tried to explain it.

“More like it will come down to whether or not Hufflepuff is able to knock Jackie Boy off his broom,” Bones said, sounding almost excited, “No professor, obviously I don’t want that. I am an unbiased consummate professional.”

“Bones you pompous bastard!” Sirius cursed the announcer, his voice lost in the wind.

The chasers on both sides were beginning to pick up. While down one player, the Gryffindor chasers battled ferociously with Hufflepuff’s three. Both teams vied for the lead, neither advancing more than a score or two ahead of the other.

“ROBBINS HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH!” Blake yelled, “Robbins has spotted the snitch and Wiseman is caught with his pants down at the opposite side of the pitch.”

Jack easily had half a pitch or more advance on the Hufflepuff seeker as he raced towards the small flitting ball, arm extended. James maintained half a broomstick length between himself and Jack, closely monitoring the snitch’s patterns and Jack’s own. He was anticipating both of their movements, in an effort to prevent himself from impeding the seeker’s path.

Out of nowhere, a bludger cut off James’ path, only just missing the tail end of Jack’s broom. Lily could practically hear James’ curse as he was forced to drop back three broom lengths from Jack.

“Come on boys! You’ll have to aim better than that!” Eddie yelled, “I mean- sorry professor it was instinctual- Hufflepuff’s beater’s are the last line of defense if they want to advance to the quidditch final.”

Jack turned into a pencil dive following the snitch as it made a beeline for the ground. Two-hundred feet. One-hundred. Fifty. If anything, Jack was only accelerating in his downward trajectory.

“WATCH OUT!”

“NOOO!”

“JACK!!”

In vain, the Gryffindor student section attempted to warn their seeker from the impending collision of a second bludger screaming towards Jack from an angle that was most definitely a blind spot for the fourth year.

As if in a sickening slow motion, the bludger hurtled towards Jack, completely unaware, hand outstretched his fingers barely grazing the snitch.

There was a sickening crunch as the bludger made contact-- with the Gryffindor captain. James had launched himself off of his broom, fully laid out, his abdomen absorbing the brunt of bludger’s impact. The momentum knocked him into the back of Jack’s broom sending the seeker’s broom into a tailspin, only moments after Jack had secured the snitch in his hand- confirmed by Madam Hooch’s whistle signifying a Gryffindor victory.

Lily screamed, horrified as James’ body flew ten feet in through the air, before thudding to the ground. “Evans!” Sirius was suddenly in front of her, hands firmly gripping her shoulders together, “He’s going to be fine, Evans!”

No, he was most certainly not going to be fine. He was most certainly going to have several broken ribs, and Merlin, after that fall maybe even a broken neck. Lily couldn’t focus, she could see Sirius' face in front of hers, his mouth moving, she could hear him yelling something but was unable to comprehend a thing he was saying.

“Lily, it’s ok Lily!” Mary joined Sirius, trying to reassure their friend. Time was moving in slow motion. She felt her friends shaking her by the shoulders, trying to snap her out of shock.

“He’s- he’s-,” Lily stammered, James’ fall on replay in her mind.

“He’s going to be fine,” Sirius spoke slowly.

“How can you say that?” Lily demanded, she shoved herself out of Sirius grasp and made her way to the front of the stands. Madam Pomfery had already moved James’ body onto a magicked stretcher that was zooming towards the hospital wing.

“Evans, it’s quidditch, this sort of thing happens.” Sirius clapped her on the back, “But it is touching how much you are concerned for ole Prongsie.”

“Of course I’m concerned, you prat!” Lily rounded on him, “Why did he do that?”

“The guy is a competitive animal coupled with a hero complex,” Sirius told her, “And he made the right call for his team! We won!” Sirius gestured his hands towards the pitch, where the rest of their house was storming the field, as if to add, “And we should be down there celebrating!

“I know you’re probably thinking of muggle sport injuries,” Remus joined them behind Sirius, “But James will probably join the Gryffindor party in an hour, two at the most. This type of thing is the least of Poppy’s worries.”

“Why isn’t anyone else more worried?” Lily demanded. The winds had picked up and she found herself shouting to be heard. Her red hair whipped across her face frantically, her hands scrambling to push it out of her eyes. Lily felt as if her heart was trying to escape her ribcage and felt the thundering vibrations of her heartbeat in her ears. The sound made her nauseous, it was like a sick re-imaging of James colliding with the ground over and over and over. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

She was losing the visual of James’ stretcher as it smoothly glided up the rolling hills towards the castle. Her mind was relaying between the horrific memory of James’ injury and catastrophizing what might happen to him next.

“Of course we’re worried!” Sirius exasperatedly balled in hands, an attempt on maintaining his composure. “But you are freaking out and if I show any real panic, you will freak out more and if you die of a panic attack, Prongs is gonna kill me.”

It would not be until later that evening when the full gravity of Sirius' statement hit Lily. Lily’s eyes were fixed on the stretcher as it passed through the castle’s archway and James was fully out of sight.

“Lil, do you want to go check on him?” Mary had joined them at the rails of the stands, “I’ll go with you.”

“Please Evans, go check on your boyfriend and then get ready for the world’s biggest I told you so at our after party.” Sirius winked on her, unsuccessfully dodging the swat Lily amed at his shoulder.

***********

Go check on your boyfriend. Sirius’ words replayed over and over in Lily’s head as she followed Mary towards the hospital wing. The biting chill of the wind was not missed as they entered the castle. Her boyfriend. She supposed that it was fair to say that James was her boyfriend. They had been exclusively dating for over a month now, but neither of them had used the “b” or “g” word yet.

“For Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfery asked as the two girls dressed in Gryffindor pride entered the hospital wing. When they nodded, she pointed towards a bed in the corner, with the curtain drawn, “It looks worse than the extent of the injuries.” Madam Pomfery led them towards James’ bed, “He suffered several broken ribs, a broken shoulder, sprained neck injury and some moderate internal bleeding. I assure you he and Mr. Black have sustained worse injuries doing who knows what. All the same he is currently mending and I expect him to re-awaken in the next,” she looked down at her watch, “Eight minutes.”

Madam Pomfery slid the curtain open, “For Merlin’s sake.”

Lily’s eyes did a quick sweep of James’ shirtless torso on the bed. She watched in amazement as some yellowed bruises slowly faded away, a sign that the healing tonics he had taken were in full effect.

“Somehow the boy always manages to take his shirt off,” Madam Pomfery shook her head, leaving Lily and Mary at the bedside. Given the severity of his injuries, less than thirty minutes ago, James looked like he could have been taking a Saturday afternoon cat-nap.

“Why don’t I give you two some alone time,” Mary gently squeezed Lily’s hand, backing away from James’ hospital station.

“Oh no you don’t have to -” Lily started.

“Everything’s gonna be fine Lil. And I’m not really keen to watch your reunion snog, no offense,” she winked. Lily laughed weakly, hugging her friend, “Thanks for coming here with me.”

“See you back in the common room?” Mary began to pull the curtain closed as she left.

“Yes for sure,” Lily told her.

Cautiously, as though trying not to disturb him, she gently pulled out the stool to have a seat next to him. She eyed James' quidditch jersey on the floor from where he must’ve pulled it off while he was going under the sedating tonics. Copying Madam Pomfery, she rolled her eyes before folding and setting it atop the bedside table next to his glasses. It occurred to her that she had never actually seen James sleeping before and she blushed at the thought of them spending the night together, I wouldn’t mind falling asleep next to this.

Settling onto the stool next to his bedside, Lily reached for one his hands, holding it in hers. Her eyes traced his face, letting them travel down his body. Stop oggling an injured man, she reprimanded herself, even if he is bloody gorgeous. With her free hand, she leaned forward to sweep his bangs across his forehead. James had always enjoyed it when she played with his hair. She continued her rhythmic motions, running her fingers through his windswept curls completely unaware as James’ breathing deepened and he began to stir, eyes slowly opening.

A smile bloomed on his face when he realized who was greeting him. Lily smiled back, retrieving his glasses from the bedside table and gently setting them on his face. He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, before groaning and sitting up on the bedside to face her, his knees knocking against hers.

“Nice jersey,” Lily blushed under James’ gaze, as he surveyed her before him in his jersey, “You look good wearing my name.”

“Hi,” Lily breathed, placing both her hands on his knees she leaned forward to press a kiss to his mouth.

“Hi,” James repeated, Lily felt his smile beneath her lips.

“You really know how to drive a girl wild, Potter,” she told him.

“It was a fairly glorious wipeout,” James grinned up at her, leaning back on his hands, arms extended. The bed springs faintly groaned with his weight shift.  “Not entirely pleasant, but I do what I can for my team.”

“Gloriously horrible,” Lily corrected, “I thought- I was worried that you were going to be terribly injured.”

“Look at me, good as new,” James laughed, flexing his pectoral muscles at her.

“Merlin, you’re annoying,” Only slightly amused at his arrogance, Lily pushed at his shoulder, tipping him slightly off balance. James gasped, doubling over, clutching where she had touched him. Her eyes widened in horror as she gasped, hands clasped over her nose and mouth, “James! I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I forgot- you’re healing.”

James peaked one eye open to look at her, “Only kidding Lils,” he grinned, righting himself again, “But I gotcha pretty good huh?”

“Potter!” She whisper-hissed at him, mindly that Madam Pomfery was probably within ear shot if their voices were raised, “You’re such a- a-a-”

Lily was taken aback as James lunged forward, tugging her into arms so she was sitting across his lap. She struggled not to laugh as he engulfed her into a bear hug, his right arm reaching around her trunk to hold her head holding it in place as he pressed loud, smacking kisses to her cheek.

“I’m such a what?” he goaded her, “You might as well stop attempting to escape,” he squeezed her tighter against him and it was only her pride that prevented her from snuggling into him, “It’s not like I’m ever letting you go,” he chuckled as she huffed in mild annoyance.

“I was so worried about you! And Sirius suggested that I come check on my boyfriend, and you have the audacity to-”

James swiftly inhaled, “What did you just say?”

“I said, I’m sorry that I was so worried about-”

“No, after that… your boyfriend?”

“Yes, his name is James Potter, about 6’3, great snogger, annoying git when he wants to be. Have you heard of him?” Lily smirked as turned her head ninety degrees so that she was facing him. James was holding his face in a carefully constructed neutral position, any hint of duress hidden except for the shift in his cheek muscle as his jaw tensed.

“I’ve never called myself your boyfriend. And I haven’t said that to Sirius either. Just so you know.” James’ tone was even and measured. And Lily believed him when he said he never mentioned it to Sirius before. Of course he hadn’t, they had never even broached the subject. Oh. Oh. OH. Still encased in his arms and unable to retreat, Lily swung her neck 180 degrees to face as far away from James Potter as she possibly could. She swore internally as she felt the embarrassed flush creep up her neck. She had made a gross miscalculation.

No. She hadn’t. But… maybe… she was in the hospital wing, wearing his jersey that he gave her…no. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut. He had not offered it to her, Mary and Sirius practically backed him into a corner without giving him the option to say no. He was only being polite. Wearing his jersey would be a total girlfriend move. Whatever she thought they were… apparently they were not that.

“Oh,” Lily started thickly, “I just thought… you know…I thought you were.” She made a move to off his lap, to put some distance between them, but James was having none of that.

He groaned, “Merlin, Evans, I just don’t want to be moving too fast for you. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks-”

“A month and a half.”

“Ok, a month and a half,” James corrected himself, “And I- I really like you even though we’re not even fully official- wait- come back, Evans, come back.”

Lily had continued to try and make a break for her. She kept her face turned away to, trying to hide her shocked and wounded expression.

“What did I say now?” James pulled her back fully into him, her back to his front, his arms encircling her waist, “Sometimes I feel like I’m always putting my foot in my mouth around you.”

“It’s nothing- I-I- ,it’s nothing-”

“Tell me,” James pressed his lips to her cheek, he was warm and her skin was set ablaze where he made contact.

“It’s silly,” Lily worked to keep her voice light, stomach in knots. She forced her face into a more neutral expression, still unable to fully look back at him.

“I’m sure it’s not,” James' lips continued down her neck, “Gods I’m so into you,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Lily swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes tightly shut trying to will herself to tell him the truth,“I just thought that...I thought that we- I mean, I thought that- that I was already your girlfriend.”

She heard his swift inhale as James’ arms stiffened around her, and his mouth left her neck. “What?” his voice suddenly low, serious.

Her traitorous body betrayed her emotion, as the flush crept up her neck. Lily kept her face turned away, opening her eyes, and feeling extremely lucky that there was no other student in the hospital wing. Of course he was hesitant when she had asked him if she could wear his jersey last night. It was very much couple behaviour, and they clearly were not a-

“Lily,” she felt James hand gently press on her cheek, attempting to turn her face towards his, “Come on, please look at me.”

“No,” She could get through this. She would get through this. Not Lily “I’d rather date the giant squid than you” Evans actually feeling crushed that James Potter was rejecting-

“C’mon Lil,” he pleaded. She should face this quickly. Get this over with, a quick and painless severance. Gods, why had she so pressed him to wear his stupid jersey. This was poetic justice. After the fifth year incident, she was going to be turned down while donning his last name across her shoulder. Alright, here goes nothing, RIP me, she thought, turning to look at James and his stupid handsome face, and his stupid beautiful eyes, and stupid kissable lips, and stupid hot body.

“You thought I was your boyfriend?” James asked her incredulously, his hazel eyes flicking quickly across her face.

“Yeah,” Lily answered dumbly, eyes fixed on the wall just to the right of his head, unable to look him fully in the face, “I haven’t done this before, I thought-” James clasped a hand over mouth effectively cutting her off.

“You, Lily Evans, want to be the girlfriend of me, James Potter?” he re-stated slowly, as if he could not believe the words coming from his mouth and moving his face directly in front of her so she had to meet his gaze.

Who gets rejected donning someone else’s last name, honestly? The irony was remarkable.

Just kill me now, Lily thought, she reached up to pull his hand away, “Yes Pott-”

And then his mouth was on hers, a hand pressed firmly to the back of her head holding her close to him. She moved her lips with his, forgetting why she had been so cross just a moment before, angling her body to face him. Her hands grasped his shoulders, holding James to her, his other hand snaking around her waist.

James pulled away first, his smile giddy, “You’re my girlfriend,” he pressed another kiss to her cheek, working his way to her jawline. “And I’m your boyfriend.” His kisses moved towards her chin before returning to her lips once again, “and you’re my girlfriend.” James repeated for emphasis.

“But what about-”

James groaned again, pulling Lily fully into his arms in a crushing hug and she inhaled deeply into his chest, a heady combination of pheromones, amber, and wood.

“Evans, I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since you suggested we study for Ancient Runes together… hang on...did you do that because we are the only two of our friends who take that class? Was that your way of coming on to me?

“I was worried about being too obvious,” she smiled into his chest, “guess not, huh?”

“Definitely not,” James snorted, “And here I was trying not to shite my pants at the thought of– Did you know that I had been debating on asking you to wear my jersey for literal days, maybe weeks–”

“Why didn’t you?” Lily pulled back, her face bemused.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want to or not,” he grinned sheepishly.

Lily threw her head back, laughter tinkling, “My god we’re idiots, aren’t we?”

“Definitely,” James agreed, chuckling as well.

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

Shortly afterwards, when they emerged to join the victory party, they were greeted with the loudest, “I TOLD YOU SO.”

[jkstompers]

just to study | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.

genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.

warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!

word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)

authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(＞人＜) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ

(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)

side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3

banner pic creds here ! <3

you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)

“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.

he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.

to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.

“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”

“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.

you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.

quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”

he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”

you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.

or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.

you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”

you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.

he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.

“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”

jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.

you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”

he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.

you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.

jungkook nods, “sounds good.”

“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.

“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.

“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.

“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.

“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.

“fascia.”

“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.

jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.

“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?

“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.

you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”

jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.

“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”

your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.

he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.

oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.

you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.

begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.

you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”

“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.

tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.

“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.

you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.

for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.

it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.

you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.

you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.

“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.

at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.

jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.

he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.

“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.

the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.

“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.

you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”

“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”

he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”

you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.

[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫

[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?

[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)

[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha

[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂

[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want

[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear

[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush

[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?

[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂

[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…

[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay

[10:37 am] you: ah okay

[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)

[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)

[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?

[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol

[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie

you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.

[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)

[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha

[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie

[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front

jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.

“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.

he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.

“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”

“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.

he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.

“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.

“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.

“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.

he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.

he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.

jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.

you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.

“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.

“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.

you shrug, “why not?”

yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”

“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.

“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.

“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.

yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.

“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.

yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).

the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.

so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.

you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”

the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.

but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.

“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.

“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”

“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.

you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”

yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”

you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.

“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.

“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.

“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.

the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.

“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!

“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.

“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.

he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”

yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”

you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.

“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.

“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.

“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.

“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.

“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.

jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.

“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.

your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.

you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.

“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.

“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.

“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.

he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.

jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.

his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“

you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.

“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.

“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.

goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.

“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.

he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.

a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”

the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.

“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”

he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”

he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.

“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.

you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.

jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”

the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.

with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.

he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.

you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.

jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.

you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”

jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.

you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”

with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.

“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.

he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”

“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.

you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.

so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.

“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.

you nod, “i did.”

“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”

the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.

you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.

but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”

he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.

“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.

he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.

“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.

“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.

you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”

he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”

jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.

he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.

the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.

his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.

[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee

[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww

[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie

[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂

[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3

he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Fem!Stark!Reader) — part four

Y’all. I am dumb as all fucking hell. I’ve had this finished for days and just keep forgetting to post it. Send help

Summary: Ominous stuff and the Father Test results oooooo

Warnings: angst but that’s it I think

The next day, you and Wanda finally tackle everything Pepper bought you. You’re glad you took Tony’s advice (for once) and asked Wanda for help because it’s so much stuff.

“That is not my color. There’s no way I’d wear that.”

“You won’t know unless you try it on!” Wanda argues, holding the shirt out to you.

You push it back to her chest. “Nope. You take it.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, setting it aside. “Pepper got these for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” But I don’t like owning things.

Wanda sighs. “I’m sorry, but it’s okay to own things, you know.”

You look up in shock. You completely forgot she can read minds.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, grimacing. “I try not to, I swear, but that was a strong feeling,” she raises her eyebrows for emphasis.

“I’m not used to it,” you confess. “Mom never had enough money for us to have anything but the essentials. So, this…” You gesture at the pile of clothes around you and on your bed. “It’s weird.”

“I understand,” Wanda says. “But, I mean, you didn’t have anything when you got here. These are all essentials. It just looks like a lot.”

“You’re probably right,” you murmur. “You can still have the shirt, though. That really isn’t my color.”

“Okay,” she chuckles. “I’ll take it.”

You hear footsteps down the hall, and they sound a lot like Bucky’s, which is why when he knocks on the door, you’re not at all surprised when it sounds like his knock, too.

“Come in,” you call out, and sure enough, it’s Bucky.

“Hey-- Oh, hey Wanda.”

She waves.

He looks back at you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I was just checking on you.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Why?”

He shrugs, evidently not having a reason. “I...I don’t know. I hadn’t seen you since yesterday, so I guess I just...wanted to check.”

“Oh,” you nod slowly. “I’m good. Thanks for checking.”

“Yeah,” he says, waving once more. “See you.” He closes the door behind him, and you listen to his footsteps retreat back into the main area.

“Weird,” you mutter, grabbing another shirt to examine.

Wanda snickers.

You drop the shirt, giving her a look. “What?”

“Nothing…” She shakes her head, picking up a pair of pants. “These are cute.”

“Wanda,” you sigh. “What?”

“Nothing!” She tries again. “Really, it’s nothing. Bucky is the one mind I can’t really read. He’s good at hiding things.”

“But?”

She shrugs. “He doesn’t really check up on people.”

“Okay? And?”

“Nothing,” she says again. “Like I said, I can’t read him. And we have a bigger thing to worry about. Do you like these?” She turns the pants around for you.

You accept her subject change reluctantly. The pants are cute.

+++

When Bucky returns to the main area, he’s immediately called away by Steve.

“Meeting in five,” Steve says. “At MedBay.”

Bucky follows Steve to the elevator, narrowing his eyes. “Why MedBay?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Steve says quietly, stepping inside the elevator with Bucky.

“Did the results come back?” Bucky asks.

“They must’ve,” Steve sighs.

“What are we gonna do if she’s like us?” Bucky asks. “She has no clue that she is.”

“That we know of,” Steve adds.

“No, Steve, I don’t think she knows,” Bucky argues. “At all.”

“Well, we’ll figure that out later,” Steve says.

The elevator stops at MedBay, letting the two super soldiers off.

They’re met with Dr. Cho, Tony, and Natasha standing around. The look that Nat gives Steve is enough to let him know it’s bad.

Of course, bad is subjective. Because if you are a super soldier, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing (you won’t drop dead from it) -- but Bucky isn’t sure it’s a good thing, either. Especially if you don’t know what you are, because that means you were given the serum against your will and without your knowledge. But who would do that to you -- to a fucking kid?

Tony breaks the silence. “Well, we don’t need to stand around staring at each other. I’m sure you’ve put two and two together.”

Bucky’s heart sinks. “She’s a super soldier?”

Dr. Cho shakes her head. “I’m not completely sure.” She pauses. “But based on the DNA so far...yes. A form of one.”

“A form of one?” Bucky blurts.

“I’ve already called Dr. Banner,” Tony says. “He should be here tomorrow to help us figure this one out. Quickly.”

“Do you think someone is trying to recreate the serum?” Steve asks.

“Not trying to,” Tony says. “If Y/N is anything to go off of, they’ve done it.”

“But how does she not remember it?” Natasha questions. “It sounds like something someone would remember.”

“Unless she was unconscious,” Bucky adds quietly. “Or whoever it was wiped her memory.”

Everyone looks at Bucky, afraid that he’s right.

“We don’t know that, but...I do know her mom worked for HYDRA. Or a group closely associated with them,” Tony waves his hands aimlessly. “FRIDAY is still digging.”

“And you had sex with her?” Bucky laughs darkly. “Of course.”

“Hey, I don’t need your judgement, Barnes,” Tony snaps. “All I need is some help. Because until I say so, this stays between us. Okay?” Tony raises his eyebrows. “Barnes?”

“Okay,” Bucky mutters.

“Understood,” Steve says with a nod, but Tony wasn’t worried about him, or Natasha who nods in agreement, too. Tony’s worried about Bucky because he’s latched onto you in some weird way that Tony can’t quite place, but he knows it’s going to cause issues.

“I’ll try to convince her to start training with us,” Nat says. “At least with Wanda and I first. It’ll give her something to do and I can see how she behaves.”

Steve likes the idea. “If she wants to train with me or Buck, that’s fine too, we can gauge if she does or doesn’t know about her strength.”

“We don’t even know if she has super strength,” Bucky argues. “All I’ve noticed is that her senses are sharper than normal.”

“She’s been on the run,” Nat counters. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s holding things back from us. Don’t give me that look, I’m not saying I blame her, I’m saying I understand.”

Bucky doesn’t stop glaring at her, but he does nod.

Tony breaks the tension with a clap of his hands. “Now that we’re all on the same page, I need to go. I’ve got some news to break to the kid.”

All heads slowly turn toward Tony.

“Wait…” Nat furrows her eyebrows.

“She’s really yours?” Steve asks quietly.

“She’s really mine,” Tony nods, smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Talk about being father of the year. Not even knowing your kid exists until she’s almost twenty.” He laughs it off because that’s all he knows how to do, but everyone can tell he’s beating himself up inside.

+++

When you see Tony again, Wanda is gathering the few clothes you decided not to keep.

“Hey munchkin,” he says, knocking on your door with two knuckles. “You got a minute?”

“Sure,” you shrug.

“I’ll see you later,” Wanda waves, punching Tony lightly in the arm on her way by.

“What’s up?” You ask. You’re grateful he’s come in now because it gets you out of hanging all this shit up, but you won’t admit that to him.

“Thought we could take a walk,” he shrugs. “I realized I haven’t given you the grand tour.”

You chuckle. “I’ve been almost everywhere, I mean, what else is there?”

Tony only smiles.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. “Fine, lead the way.”

Tony doesn’t seem nearly as happy as you thought he would when you agreed.

Still, you follow him, and you don’t question his mood. Even if the two of you do bicker like hell, you kind of don’t mind spending some time with him. Working in the lab yesterday was more fun than you expected it to be.

Tony takes you down to the garage where all his cars are. There’s a couple motorcycles, one for Steve and one for Natasha. Bucky, surprisingly, doesn’t have one. Tony doesn’t point a car out and say it’s Bucky’s, so you don’t know if he even has one.

From there, he walks you through the business floors, nodding to the few people that pass by. You notice the odd looks you get, though. Tony doesn’t bat a single eyelash.

It’s when Tony walks you through his lab again that you realize he’s stalling about something, but you say nothing, letting him do whatever it is he’s doing. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re kind of enjoying the tour.

The last stop is the balcony near the very top of the tower. It’s right outside Tony’s office, unsurprisingly, but you truthfully didn’t even notice it the first day you were here.

You take in the view of the city from here, the breeze on your cheeks. You have a feeling you’ll be sneaking in here more often than not to come out here.

“So… The results came in.”

Slowly, you look over at Tony. “The results?” You pause. “From the paternity test? Already?”

“Dr. Cho uses different technology here,” he shrugs. “It’s quicker.”

“Okay…” You murmur. “What’s the verdict?”

Tony chuckles as he takes his sunglasses off. “What do you think?” He pauses, looking down. “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, leaning against the railing. “What did you want it to be?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he admits, surprising you. “But the fact that it never happened just told me I wasn’t cut out for it. And even now, I think that’s true. I mean, look at me,” he scoffs. “I didn’t even know I have a daughter until she’s almost twenty, and she had to come to me. I couldn’t even go to her.”

You stare out at the city, not blinking, not moving, barely breathing.

“I always said I’d try to be better than my dad if I was one,” he continues. “I’d be around more. I’d be more involved in my kid’s life than I would in my work. Guess that one didn’t work out.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” you chuckle, trying to slice through some of the awkward tension, “every time my mom told me you’re my dad, I...I would be two seconds away from telling her to go to hell. But I never did.” You shrug. “I never believed her, though, either.”

“Do you believe her now?”

“Hard to argue with science, I guess,” you admit. “We can ignore it, though, if you’d rather I just...quietly leave.”

Tony shakes his head. “No. No, I’m not gonna make you leave.”

“Okay.”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” he says. “And you can change rooms, too, just let me know. There’s bigger ones a few floors down that are empty. It’s just Bucky and Steve on one end.”

You snicker. “You sure you want me rooming on the same floor as them?”

“Yeah, you know what, I take that back,” he nods firmly. “You’re staying where you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he replies almost instantly.

Heavy silence settles over the two of you for a few moments. The city breeze is the only noise in your ears, aside from the car engines, but you’ve gotten good at tuning those out.

“You’re not gonna get pissed if I don’t call you dad, right?” You ask.

“As long as you don’t get pissed if I keep calling you munchkin.”

You sigh. Win some, lose some. “Fine.”

“Good deal,” Tony says with a nod.

“Can I ask something else?”

“Shoot.” He pushes away from the railing to face you instead, leaning his hip against the glass.

“Do you remember my mom at all?” Before he can reply, you say, “It’s fine if you don’t. I’m just curious.”

He hangs his head. “I don’t. I’m sorry, munchkin.”

You shrug. “Probably for the better, anyway.”

Tony stills. It’s the first time he’s ever heard you talk about your mom, really, but with what he knows, it only makes him more suspicious. FRIDAY won’t finish digging until sometime tonight or tomorrow, but the beginning of what she’s found doesn’t look positive. And neither does your current expression.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria. 

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

-

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

-

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

-

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

-

“Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

-

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products. 

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

-

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else - 

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF. 

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

💙 More S2 content: here

💙 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[askfallenroyalty]

OK so here’s chara’s new design.... yes i know i can Stick To One Design for 5 minutes. i probs should just be a character designer. Chara has a gold soul in my h/c (i posted about it recently, i can link it again if needed) and while I won’t make it a Plot Point here because its Very Much A Fan Theory and I don’t wanna lean too hard on that. but ye, if you wanna see it as chara regaining their colorscheme from before death, that works too!

anyway, this is the last new design for chara until the epilogue so! gotta update the banner/avatar again LOL

tho uh, before that, wanna address why flower-chara didn’t last so long: its because the story is nearing it’s end, there’s a few more storybeats/twists left but then it’s over for a bit, then i’ll come back after a break to do the epilogue + then months later do the fangame to finish darkworld

point being, i didn’t want to linger on it (it wasn’t even supposed to be a “twist” it was a last minute choice to make them full flower. i originally was having it as a time limit near-the-breaking-point kinda thing. but like, chara already went thru their breaking point! so that didn’t make sense.) its really funny how last minute changes can happen for the better! like, toriel was supposed to come in later, and then we’d get the emotional pay off after the climax??? it was stupid. i’m much happier with this version.

i do wish maddie’s plotline could of been done over the christmas break ;v; its a shame since its christmasy and there would of been so much more MTT and dreemurr family shinangins. a whole story beat about chara potentially meeting asriel on live tv (while still in separate countries) but it would show both a Nicer side to Asriel’s public persona that hints to how he actually did want to see chara again. ...while also still using the satire of the Idol King figurehead still. but i feel there’s been enough of that already in the story, and esp after the flowey reveal, it’s unneeded. obviously in the original plan, asriel wouldn’t turn to flowey backstage. but hey! now i got time to write more flowey and yun. so that’s nice

anyway the redraw is back in swing btw! feel free to read it as it updates :> it’ll change the story sliiightly to fit my newer views/ways of writing + connect the story better to be more cohesive. it’s a lot of fun, and makes toriel gunnin after chara lmao a call back in that version instead lol

[sturchling]

If my other prompt is too mean here's this Mari resigns class rep Lila takes over chaos ensures gets pressured everyone ask her for everything no matter her excuses act ungrateful 2 her demands Mari's help Mari say screw you like a savage and Lila snaps and lashes out to the point she runs away like a lunatic

Ok, so I am slowly coming back into writing fanfiction. I did find a job and am getting settled into the new routine. I am still going to be slow posting, but I will be writing again. 

Also, about that personal writing project, I have more details to share now. I am trying to write my own novel now. It will be a fantasy novel, and I will publish through kindle direct publishing. I hope to have it done by the end of the year or early next year. If any of you want details, I would be happy to chat with you about it.

Without further ado, here is the story, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think.

Things in the akuma class had taken a turn for the worse. Lila’s plan had worked perfectly. She had slowly chipped away at the class’ confidence in Marinette until they all thought she was the worst person in the school. Marinette had tried to stop Lila at first. She had gone to her friends about what Lila had threatened her with, but not many believed her.

 --------------------

The only people who still believe her are Kim and Nino. They had known her almost their whole lives, and knew Marinette wouldn’t make something like this up. They also knew Marinette well enough to know that she would never do the things Lila accused her of. Adrien also knew that Marinette was innocent, but he couldn’t say anything to the class.

  --------------------

He had tried at first, but Lila had been able to twist everything to her advantage again. Then she had gone to Adrien’s father. Mr. Agreste had told Adrien that he had to ‘maintain good relations with Miss Rossi, for the good of the brand’ and threatened to pull him out of school again if he failed to do so. He may not be able to help Marinette directly, but he has tried to warn her of some of Lila’s more heinous lies.

  --------------------

The rest of the class had become incredibly cruel towards Marinette. All they ever did anymore was glare at her and call her cruel names. Lila had succeeded, the class had all turned against Marinette. The only time they really spoke to her was to ask her to make things for them or to plan trips and events for the class.

  --------------------

It eventually became too much and Marinette had had enough. She resigned as class rep one Friday afternoon, and immediately stopped doing favors for the class. The class was furious that she wouldn’t make them things anymore, but was happy that they could get a new class rep now. One that wasn’t a bully to the sweetest girl in class. In fact, they decided that the sweetest girl in class should be the new class rep.

  --------------------

The Monday after Marinette resigned, the class elected Lila to be the new class rep. At first Lila was thrilled to be elected. She felt this meant that she was officially the queen of the class. But then the reality of the situation set in. She realized all of the work that the position entailed. She tried to give the work to Alya as her deputy. Alya said that she would do the paper work, but Lila would be able to set up much cooler events and trips than Alya with all her connections.

  --------------------

Of course, Lila couldn’t use her connections to create all these opportunities for the class. She had no connections to use. What is worse, Lila didn’t realize all of the extra things the class would ask for. Everything they used to ask Marinette for, they started asking Lila. She tried using any excuse she could come up with. She couldn’t make that banner they wanted because she was busy helping Prince Ali with his new charity. She couldn’t help make stuff for the bake sale because she was helping her mother with a new proposal at work. But nothing worked, they still demanded that she do all of this additional work for them.

  --------------------

And they got angry when Lila couldn’t deliver. The class quickly devolved into chaos. All the fundraisers didn’t meet their goal, and trips didn’t actually happen. Guests would cancel their appearances for the class last minute. The class began to act more and more ungrateful to Lila as she continued to fail as class rep. Lila saw her position in the class slipping with each passing day.

  --------------------

She even resorted to actually working, to try and win the class back. She started to apply herself to the class rep job and really try to get everything under control. But it was impossible to do the job on its own, let alone with the class asking for all of these additional favors. Lila didn’t understand how Marinette did it. She must have had outside help, there is no way she could have done all this work on her own, she must have cheated the system somehow.

  --------------------

Lila started to get angrier and angrier at Marinette. Marinette could have told her how hard this would be, and told her how she had cheated the system and made this so easy. When Lila saw Marinette go into the restroom alone, she made her move. She cornered Marinette in the restroom again and demanded she help Lila with the work. “You were the one who resigned and got me into this mess. You obviously had help, no one can do this job on their own. Since you caused all this, and you didn’t tell me who helped you when you were class rep, you are going to help me now. You will help me and make me look good to the class again, or you will regret it.” Marinette just looked at Lila with a blank stare. “How will you make me regret it? You already took the class from me. You don’t have any leverage here.” Lila got a smirk on her face, thinking she had the perfect plan. “Simple. I’ll make your parents turn against you. I did it with the class, I can do it again. If you don’t help me, I’ll go tell them how awful you have been to me and how their daughter is a bullying liar. Those are your options, so what is it going to be?”

  --------------------

Marinette just rolled her eyes, which shocked Lila. “Lila, my parents already know about you being a liar. After you got me expelled, I told them everything you have said to me. The threats, the lies, everything. They won’t believe you at all. You have no power over me anymore. Good luck as class rep. It was such a demanding position I never had any free time; I am glad it isn’t my job anymore. See you in class Lila, and I am looking forward to hearing your plan for the end of the year trip at the presentation later today. I am sure you have something amazing planned with all your connections. For your sake, I hope your plans actually work this time. Not sure how the class would handle another let down.”

  --------------------

Lila was shocked at what Marinette just said. While Lila stood in shock, Marinette walked around her and out of the restroom. Lila panicked as she realized Marinette was right, the class wasn’t going to keep letting these failures go. Lila went back to the classroom and was immediately bombarded by the class. Normally she would welcome the attention, but that was when the class was just fawning over her. Now, they were demanding more and more favors from her.

  --------------------

Lila quickly became overwhelmed by everything and snapped. She shoved everyone away, yelling, “That’s it! I’m done! This isn’t worth it! I quit being class rep! I only wanted the stupid job to take it from Marinette, but this is ridiculous. You guys can’t do anything for yourselves! You keep demanding all of these crazy trips and events that just can’t be done, I can’t organize those kinds of things!” The class is shocked by Lila’s outburst. Alya reaches out to the girl she considers her best friend, “What are you talking about Lila? You don’t sound like yourself. I am sorry if we put too much pressure on you, but you could organize these cool events. For a girl with your connections, it should be easy.”

  --------------------

Lila pulled away from Alya, looking completely deranged. “No, I can’t do it. I don’t have all these awesome connections. I lied. About everything. I just wanted to be the queen of this school, so I told you idiots what you wanted to hear. I never thought being class rep would be so much work. So, I’m done. My mom’s assignment here is done anyway, so we are going back to Italy. Have a good life, losers.”

  --------------------

The class looked on in shock as Lila fled from the class and out of the school. Lila got home and convinced her mother to end her time in France early. She told her mom that she was getting scared it was too dangerous to stay because of Hawkmoth and her mother agreed. Lila hated that she hadn’t had the opportunity to help Hawkmoth defeat Ladybug, but she had to get out of Paris.

  --------------------

The class was in shambles after that. Everyone tried to apologize to Marinette and get her to be class rep again, but the girl refused the position and made it clear that they weren’t friends again just because they said sorry. Mrs. Bustier’s class never fully recovered from the betrayal of Lila. Things did get better between the class and Marinette. They were civil to each other, but Marinette was still not ready to be friends again. Mrs. Bustier’s class was left to wonder how Lila had tricked them, and how they had let themselves be tricked. And they wondered most of all how they had let Marinette, the best friend they had ever had, get away.

[writtenwhalien]

Do you have advice for new fan fic writers wanting to start posting?

hello love! 🥰 absolutely! tbh I still feel like a new writer myself considering I only started writing when I made this tumblr which is a year ago, and especially because my blog hasn’t grown as much as others, I feel like I’m still learning all this stuff myself too! 😊

this might be a little bit long bc I’ll be relating to my own experiences and what I’ve learned :) any writers please add on if you feel I’ve missed something! 😋

firstly, write what you want to write! don’t force ideas/requests.

your best work will come when you’re writing something that you’re excited to write. if someone sends a request, it’s okay to say that nothing is coming to mind, or think on it and come back at a later time (I still have requests in my inbox from like 7 months ago and they’re developing into full length fics (think 20k+) because I liked the idea and wanted to give time to it and now I’m really excited to write them too! that said, sometimes forcing ideas has worked for me (talk slow for example), but it’s how you feel in the moment. (now see how I linked my work just there, that is shameless self promo bc u might decide to check it out — remember this for my last point ;)

take your time! if you’re stuck, come back to it a few hours/days/weeks/more later.

following on from the first point, taking your time can be one of the most valuable things to do. sometimes all you need is a little break to figure out the missing piece from your work. if you’ve got writers block, work on a different wip/take requests, whatever works for you.

if you’re struggling to stay motivated, try: making a playlist/moodboard/banner for your fic or read something instead of writing!

pretty self explanatory, but sometimes we need visual creativity to come into play and help us craft our world so we can write it in words. and reading other fics can help you when you see the way another writer writes — their style/format, and I’ve noticed that almost every writer on this app has something unique in their writing that I can’t always put a finger on, but when I read it, it literally makes me go “yeah, I wanna go and work on my fic now.” — that I can’t explain 😂

make your blog pretty!

this is more to attract followers but it’s also very pleasing for you to see yourself! :) have links in your bio, a header, a theme for desktop tumblr, and most importantly, a masterlist!!!! I wish I’d done this earlier lol, my tumblr was trash for a while 😔

make friends! join networks!

this is a social app — use it to “network”. I can guarantee you’ll meet some amazing people and they can be a great motivation/support when it comes to your writing, whether that’s boosting your fics by reblogging, or encouraging you while you write, or even beta-reading for you. also, discord is always filled with wild conversations lmao.

space out your content!

say you get two fics written in two weeks and you don’t know when your next one will be/it’ll be at least a few weeks until the next one, whatever it is, I’d recommend spacing it out. post one fic first, and when the exposure on that starts going down, then post the second one. and queue your rb’s — remember we’re all on different time/schedules so at 2pm on wednesday you might be asleep while I’m awake, or one week you might be busy on a saturday but another saturday you’re scrolling through tumblr, so, my last point….

reblog your own work without shame! it’s yours, be proud of it! I’m still learning to do this myself but rb’s are important so do it :) + self promo!!! if someone is asking for recs, send your own fic! I have and I’ve been embarrassed to do it but they asked! but don’t do it if they’re not asking bc some authors don’t like it, it can feel forceful/ uncomfortable for them to say no.

I hope this helps somewhat!!!! have a lovely day anon and good luck with your writing! ❤️

[spicykoreantatertots]

Fractured Hearts & Floral Lungs - Part One

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: hanahaki, angst, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2400

Warnings: blood, choking, coughing, vomiting, hanahaki disease, relationship issues, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of hospitals

A/N: this is my first fic in a while and i’m happy to finally be able to share something again. i’m determined to finish this series by the end of may and finish my soulmate series this summer. 

thank you to @shadowsremedy​ for this banner and to @thesoftsoobin for beta reading for me.

this was meant to be a gift for @dee-ehn, well it still is a gift, but it should’ve been posted a long time ago. i’m happy to finally be able to present you with this gift, i hope you enjoy part one of Fractured Hearts & Floral Lungs!

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Night]

Tonight isn’t the first night that you’ve shown up at Jin’s door sobbing. At this rate, it probably won’t be the last. He still hasn’t read your texts about needing a place to stay, so he’s probably asleep. 

You knock loudly a few times, careful not to disturb the floral wreath hanging on the center of the door. And after a few moments you can hear some footsteps inside the apartment. There’s some more silence and then you can hear hushed whispers. 

The door creaks open and Jin’s boyfriend Namjoon is standing before you. 

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Namjoon sighs sleepily. 

“You scared us! I even got my old tennis racquet out of the closet!” Jin complains before he pokes his head around Namjoon’s broad shoulders. The tear stains and redness of your face instantly catch his attention. “Oh no, what happened?” 

For a moment, you can’t say anything. Your chest fills with emotions. Pain, frustration, sadness, heartbreak. The words can’t get past your trembling lips, and soon you feel Jin’s arms envelop you, his sweater absorbing your burning tears. 

Somehow, through all your blubbering, Jin has been able to understand what happened with Yoongi. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, guiding you to the couch that will be your bed for the next few nights. Namjoon has brought over a pillow, blanket, and a glass of water for you. 

“Why don’t you lay down and try to sleep now? This isn’t going to be resolved tonight, unfortunately,” Namjoon interrupts Jin’s comforting whispers. 

“He’s right, Y/N, I can tell you’re exhausted. Try to get some rest.” Jin helps you get settled in bed before following Namjoon into their bedroom. 

Jin was right. You are completely exhausted, emotionally drained. But every time you attempt to close your eyes, all you can see is him, the flowers, and the blood.

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Evening]

Something is off. He’s been coming home late everyday for the past few weeks. You hoped that today, of all days, he would make an effort. But here you are, alone, surrounded by a table full of his favorite foods. From the moment you got home from work, you’d been on your feet cooking. As if your job waiting tables wasn’t strenuous enough. 

Lately it feels like you’re the only one making an effort in this relationship. He leaves for work before you wake up, returns after you’ve gotten into bed for the night. He doesn’t even take the lunches you pack for him to work anymore. You never would have suspected Yoongi of cheating on you, but his behavior is making you question everything you thought you knew. 

Today will be the final straw, you told yourself. If he didn’t make it home in time for dinner on your three year anniversary, it would be time to confront him. But as six turns into seven and seven into eight, you decide to pack the meal into tupperware. 

You expected tears to come, but they didn’t. Your cheeks are bone dry while you pile the rice into a slightly warped plastic container. You’re in disbelief, or perhaps you just expected this all along. The containers of untouched anniversary dinner stack neatly in the refrigerator. 

The sound of keys jingling against the door signals his arrival before he opens the door. You lean yourself against the kitchen counter, grounding yourself. 

“Hey babe, happy anniversary!” Yoongi’s smile shines, like it always does, but his eyes aren’t as bright. He’s carrying a bouquet of small sunflowers. 

“Happy anniversary.” A faint smile crosses your face as he hands you the bouquet. He looks a little puzzled by your lack of gratitude. But then he notices the pile of dishes in the sink. 

“Oh, did you make dinner?” You nod silently as Yoongi shuffles the pots and pans around in the sink. “I made us reservations at The Table. Did you eat already?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“No!” You try again, this time suppressing the surprise in your voice. “No, I haven’t. That sounds really good.” Maybe things aren’t as bleak as they seem; at least he didn’t completely forget.

The ride to the restaurant is nearly silent, some tacky radio advertisements playing quietly. He’s holding your hand, but you’re looking out the window, focused on everything but the uncomfortable quiet. Yoongi breaks the silence and mentions something about the project he’s working on at the studio. 

The studio, you think to yourself. Of course that’s all he can talk about. His passion has always been music. You were both thrilled when he got an entry level job at a music studio, and at the beginning things were good. But Yoongi always strives to be the best, and he moved up the ladder to Assistant Producer in less than a year.

Whatever album he’s working on now has kept him away from you for far too long.

“So when is that album releasing anyway?”

“Later this summer, but our work on it is almost done.” He says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“So you’ll be back home at normal times?” 

“Well...” Yoongi glances over at you. “Jungkook wants me to work on another project with him when this one’s over.” 

“I’m glad your boss likes your work, but hasn’t he ever heard of a work-life balance?”

“Jungkook is NOT my boss. He's-” Yoongi starts.

“Well he’s not your girlfriend either!” You shout. “You’re never home anymore Yoongi.” Your hand slips from his and you cross your arms.

“This is my career.” Something catches in his throat, he coughs a little. You knew he loved his job, but you never heard him get emotional about it.

“So I just need to accept that I’ll never get to see you again?” Yoongi pulls up to the front of the restaurant, in line for valet parking. 

“Do you want to go home and keep fighting or do you want to get dinner?” He asks, still trying to clear his throat.

The restaurant is very nice: a robust wine selection, a pianist playing in one corner, and a sleek menu. The other tables are talking in quiet voices to retain the romantic ambiance of the place. You and Yoongi are doing your part by not speaking at all. 

He’s making it tough though; he keeps coughing. You hope he’s not getting sick.

“Are you okay?” You ask, passing him a tissue from your purse, trying your best not to sound angry.

“Yeah I’ve just got something stuck in my throat, excuse me.” Yoongi snatches the tissue from your hand before walking toward the restroom. 

When he returns, he looks a little worse for the wear. His skin looks paler, his hair mussed, and a wet spot on his shirt. 

“Are you getting sick?” You have to ask him now. “What’s that?” You point to the wet spot just below his collar. 

“I got some spit on my shirt. I do think I’m coming down with something, but I’ll be fine.” Something doesn’t seem right. He looks more than sick, almost paranoid. 

Through the rest of the night he coughs here and there, but he seems to regain his composure. His long dark locks get tucked behind his ear, and for a moment you can forget how hard things have been lately. He asks about your work friends and hobbies and seems to listen intently. The curve of his smile draws a smile out of you too. 

Between dinner and dessert, Yoongi reaches across the smooth table cloth to take your hand in his. His thumb gently strokes your fingers. 

“You know that I love you, right?” He asks, his smile faded to a straight line. You squeeze his hand. 

“You’re going to have to do a better job of showing it.”

~~~~~~~

You’re not sure if it’s the best move, but you want to show him that you haven’t given up yet. When you step out of the bathroom, wearing a revealing chemise, Yoongi is sitting on his side of the bed, facing away from you. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask, climbing onto the bed. He sighs, and you reach for his shoulders. You begin rubbing his shoulder muscles, feeling the tension in them slowly releasing. Kneading his back muscles with your fingers, you lean forward to lay kisses along his broad shoulders. 

“Baby, can we not tonight?” You freeze, not sure you heard him correctly. “I know it’s our anniversary, I just don’t feel good.” You remove your hands from his body.

“Yeah, of course. There’s some cough medicine and painkillers in the bathroom if it will help.” You reply, leaning back against the headboard, scrolling through your twitter feed so you can hide your embarrassment.

“I’m going to take a shower. You don’t have to wait up for me.” He gets up from the bed and enters the bathroom without glancing your way. You settle into the blankets and try to relax.

You can hear him coughing again once the shower turns on. You turn over in bed, his sudden cold demeanor reminding you of the trouble your relationship is really in. It’s hard to fall asleep to the sound of your boyfriend coughing violently, but you manage to drift away.

~~~~~~~

[Friday Morning]

The sound of Namjoon leaving the apartment wakes you. It must be around 7:30 or so. Jin is in the kitchen quietly making coffee, still in his pajamas. 

“Jin, are you not going to work today?” You say in a half-whisper, not wanting to startle him. 

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay with you today,” Jin explains, walking over to the couch with two mugs of coffee. He made yours just the way you like it, almond milk and a little bit of sugar. The warmth of the drink momentarily soothes your sleepy body. 

Jin reaches across the coffee table and picks up the tv remote. He turns on a morning talk show, some washed-up celebrity talking to slightly less washed-up celebrities about what projects or life events they have going on. 

“And later on in the show we will be joined by Jackson Wang, who will share his story of heartbreak and unrequited love that ultimately lead to the creation of his latest single, 100 ways.” The audience cheers for a moment before Jin switches the channel. 

“Sorry.” He sighs. 

“I don’t think that’s what the song is about...” You joke, sarcasm seeping through the pain in your chest.

Jin chuckles at your remark, but he sits uncomfortably at the end of the couch picking at his fingernails. 

“Listen I wanted to say something...” He starts. 

“Jin, do you think I could shower before we get into anything? I just need a minute to wake up and I feel kind of gross.” The mascara stains from the night before are beginning to irritate your skin, and a hot shower could do wonders for you. But truthfully, you just aren’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Sure, I’ll grab some sweats you can borrow.” Jin sighs, getting up from his seat.

 The hot water melts away the tension in your muscles, but the tension in your mind remains. It’s difficult to keep the images of Yoongi coughing up dozens and dozens of yellow and orange petals from flooding your mind. The drops of blood on the petals and the floor just showed you how far the disease had progressed. How long he’s been in love with someone else.

The floral scent of Jin’s lavender body wash is a little too reminiscent of the smell from the night before. Sickly sweet flowers with a hint of acidic bile and metallic blood. The clean water rinses the suds but the scent remains on your skin.

When you close your eyes to rinse shampoo from your hair, the scene from the night before plays out in vivid detail.

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Night]

You had been awakened by the sounds of Yoongi retching in the bathroom. You called out for him, but he didn’t answer, so you let yourself in. 

He is doubled over the toilet. A dozen or so brightly colored petals scattered around him, some smeared with watery blood. The moment you burst in, he tried to hide the extent of it, tried not to let you see but he knew it was useless. He let himself lean against the wall in defeat. 

The violent episode he was experiencing seemed to come to a halt.

“Are you...” You pause, there are too many questions to ask, but you know there is only one you can ask in the moment. “Are you okay?” He closes his eyes and nods slowly. You take a moment to examine his face. It’s red, and there are tear streaks clear down his chin. There’s drops of blood and sweat on his bare chest. His heavy breathing is slowing back to normal. 

And then you have to leave. You can’t stay and look at him and his flower petals any longer. It looks like he’ll be okay for the night, so you grab your purse and phone and walk straight through the door.

~~~~~~~

[Friday Morning]

Bumps rise across your skin as you exit the shower and step onto the cold floor tiles. You wrap a towel around your body and sit on the edge of the bathtub. Your phone, face down on the counter, buzzes again, and you decide to face the messages you ignored last night. 

You scroll through the usual email and social media notifications to get to the dozens of texts and missed calls from Yoongi, still unsure if you should even hear him out. How can he still be in love with you when he’s been growing flowers for someone else?

A phone call interrupts your thinking. The number has a local area code. A sudden feeling of nausea tells you that something is wrong. 

“Hello?” Your voice echos against the tiled walls.

“Hello we are trying to reach Ms. Y/L/N Y/N.”

“This is her.”

“You are listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Min Yoongi. He has been admitted to the ICU at Grace Regional Medical Center, how quickly can you get here?”

~~~~~~~

A/N: thank you so much for reading. check out my master list here, and check back in for part two. it will be posted by the end of april 2021!

[uglypastels]

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2

(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it  also shoutout to @duskholland​ for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40​  for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)

word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE) 

warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut 

you can find the band’s setlist here

not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)

Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here

With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.

“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!” 

“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in. 

“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always. 

“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either. 

“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine. 

“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone. 

“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion. 

She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home. 

But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot. 

You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable. 

So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo. 

Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting. 

No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out. 

The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed. 

“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform. 

Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall. 

The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name. 

Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up. 

“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?” 

“A beer?” you said it more like a question. 

“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up. 

“Not looking forward to it?”

Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him. 

“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.

“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you. 

“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again. 

“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already. 

Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.

“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.” 

“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon. 

“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready. 

“A bit of everything, I suppose.” 

You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you. 

“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you. 

“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.

You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet. 

So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one. 

That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming. 

The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before. 

Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-

You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow. 

You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker. 

The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.” 

Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect. 

“Here’s one you all should know.” 

The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song. 

In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too. 

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.  

That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you? 

The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went. 

“It was only a kiss” 

It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else. 

And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly. 

The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words. 

“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years… 

Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot. 

The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch. 

The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like. 

Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course. 

“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself. 

“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees. 

“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute. 

Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option. 

“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men.  It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen. 

“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised. 

“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing? 

At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line- 

“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable. 

When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song. 

This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good? 

As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end. 

But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing. 

“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions. 

“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly. 

Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone. 

“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry. 

You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot. 

Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom… 

You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music. 

It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks. 

Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.

By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought. 

And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage. 

“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!” 

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up. 

“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice. 

“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate. 

“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him. 

“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point. 

“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.” 

“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?” 

“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it. 

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom. 

“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?” 

“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter. 

“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one. 

“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked. 

“What does it matter,” he chuckled.

“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. 

“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well. 

“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.” 

“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.” 

“Yeah, just promise me one thing.” 

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly. 

“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.” 

You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely. 

“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you. 

“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you. 

“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement. 

“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!” 

“You know him?” you asked, surprised. 

“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically. 

“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her? 

“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off. 

“Broccoli, baby. I know.” 

“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted. 

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter. 

“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine. 

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right? 

You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent. 

He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything. 

Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table. 

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad. 

“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment. 

“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained. 

“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb. 

“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right? 

“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat. 

It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up. 

“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.  

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn. 

“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink. 

“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered. 

“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”

“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head. 

“You’re interesting, you know that?” 

“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position. 

“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like. 

“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.

“Are you guys related?” 

Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner. 

“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.

The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously. 

 “So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”

“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though. 

“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically. 

“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.

“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake. 

“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?” 

“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard? 

But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.

“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter. 

“How so?” you choked out. 

“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”? 

“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.” 

He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question. 

“No one there was as cute as you.” 

“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts. 

That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”. 

“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night. 

“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake. 

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested. 

“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.” 

“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt. 

You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye. 

You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door. 

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”

To be continued...

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2! 

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio 

tagging: 

@definitely-not-black-cat​​ @artemisiaarm​​ @nerdyhockeygirl​​ @miraclesoflove​​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @m19friend @creative-happenings​​ @parker-holland-osterfield​​ @fanficparker​​ @fanficscuziranout​​ @peterparkoure​​ @xxtomxo​​ @happywolves81​​ @captainbuckyy​​ @tra-gicx​​ @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu​​ @kangaroobunny​​ @petersunderoos96​​  @the-lost-fairy-tale​​ @nerd-domland​​ @sleepybesson​​ @rissa067​​ @the-queen-procrastinator​​ @scarletteclipze​​ @screeching-student-unknown​​ @tomhollanders2013​​ @miraclesoflove​​ @playinonaloop​​​ @queenoflostspirits​​ @roses-hxlland​​​ @hereiamhereigo​​​ @sunnydays0803​​​ @averyfosterthoughts​​​ @moorehollandplz​​​ @beiroviski​​​ @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21​​​ @lmaotshollandd​​​ @badbitchydecisions​​​ @tikapollak​​​ @starkeybabie​​​ @awesomehritz​​​ @madzleigh01​​​ @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey​​​ @quaksonhehe​​​ @mountainsforwords​​​ @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex​​​ @ethereal-beauty-p​​​ @perspectiveparker​​​ @slytherin-chaser​​​ @worldoftom​​​ @moonysoftt​​​ @peeterparkr​​​ @wazzupmrstark​​​ @saintlavrents​​ @peachybloomss​​ @blissfulparker​​ @chloecreatesfictions​​  @fallinfortom​​ @londonspidey​​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @hollandcreep​

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Love: Part 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers, Non-Idol AU

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: What happens when your work nemesis and your ultimate troll team up to flip your world upside down? 

Note: This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange! Look out for Part 2 later this week. 

This fic is dedicated to, written for the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it .... it’s trash okay? jk... kind of. 

Banner by me. 

Monday: Pitch Meeting

           “Everyone has an inherent archnemesis,” Claire began her presentation, eyes peering across the conference room, attempting to make thoughtful eye contact with her peers.

          Finally, a staff writer, this pitch marked her first foray into feature writing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, in her three years at the company as a freelance writer, it wasn’t that she didn’t draft proposals, complete preliminary research, no, she absolutely did. But there was always someone in front of her, someone who always came around the corner, nicking first place with seconds to spare. Claire hated you from the moment you arrived, bright eyed and excited, a recent college graduate gunning for a position at the magazine. While it took her years to pitch a cover story feature, years to move from an assistant to full-time staff writer, you had done so in a handful of years.

          Today, Claire decided, that would change.  She had prepped and planned for weeks, laid in wait for Marissa to give her the go ahead to pitch her idea to the team. Adjusting her Dior, she shifted from heel to heel before speaking again.

          “We all have that one person who no matter what we post, they find a way to demean it, turn it negative, make it about something completely unrelated. Whether that’s politics, or religion, or sex, there is that one troll we can’t help but root against. My proposal is to use a few members of staff to find their internet trolls, to engage with them over a period of time, and if they’re willing, interview them, both separately and together. I want to discover what it is that makes them keep commenting, why they always seem to gravitate towards certain posts, who their audience is and how it relates to our greater understandings of our enemies.” Claire sighed, the heavy lifting of her presentation just beginning.

           “I like it, who do you want to use?” Marissa asked.

           “Someone from each of our most high-profile teams, or the people in our office that have the largest social media followings. For a few that overlaps,”

           “Who are those people?”

           “Y/N, Jaxson, Hoseok, Emma and Bridgette,” Claire explained. “They have an average Instagram following of ten thousand, and on Twitter it’s twelve thousand.”

           “What do you post that gets you so many followers?” Gillian questioned.

           “My ass,” Jaxson laughed. “But really, it’s Drag Race content,”

           “Good, you have a list. I need written permission from each of you to interview you and your top internet harassers.”

           “I’d like to request that my name be off the list,” You asked, hand still raised.

           Hoseok asked, knowing the answer deep in his bones. “Why?”

           “I just, I don’t think it’d be a –

           “Nonsense, you have a large following, I’m sure there’s someone who pisses you off regularly,” Marissa interrupted.

           “Yes, there is! What’s his name? Jimin?” Claire pretended to scan her page, her cursory glance perfunctory instead of practical.

           You heard the gasp leave Hoseok’s mouth before you registered what was happening.

“Fuck you!” You snapped. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, but the sentiment remains.”

           “It was, but it also sealed your fate.” Marissa stood. “Start assembling your team and listen to Claire, I’m sure she has a list of things she needs from you.”

           “I do!” Claire chimed.

           “Great, get me the contracts from legal and get it to each of the people you’ve listed before 5PM today, I want signed consent before you leave this building.”

           “What if I don’t want to?” You asked, your final plea.

           “You owe her for the debacle with your last interview,” Marissa reminded you.

           “It’s not my fault they were drunk both times! I got the article done and out. It was one of our biggest issues in the last year and was followed up by two other feature pieces by me that beat that record,” You countered, your success an unnecessary brag in a room full of people who feared and admired your work.

           “I don’t care, Y/N, handle it,” Marissa sauntered out, her assistants following close behind.

           Slouching in your chair, your eyes landed on Claire, glaring daggers into her perfectly straight midnight bob. She was everything you hated, a brown noser, a narcissist, a career driven monster who had been biting at your heels since you arrived. She was jealous, blinded by some lofty goal that she’d be an editor or editor in chief before 28, a feat rare in fashion, unless you were Elaine Welterwroth or Margaret Zhang, of course. They had become editors and editors in chief by ages 29 and 27 respectively. Though Zhang had begun her career blogging at 16, a fact that only infuriated Claire who was too busy popping pimples and trying to lose her virginity to her junior varsity boyfriend.

          Claire could spend days listing everything she hated about you. She hated your easy interactions with coworkers, the ability to have the entire room stop and listen when you spoke, the craft of your written work and relationships maintained with subjects years after interviewing them. She hated how you left work with Hoseok on your arm or went to drinks with the assistants and interns. How you achieved so many bylines, becoming an editor in your own right without so much as breaking a sweat, while she was scraping the barrel to be noticed. You seemingly had everything Claire wanted, and Claire was sick of it.

Monday: Your Office

           “Thank you, for your participation,” Claire said, sitting across from you in your office.

           “You aren’t welcome, I’m actually rather unimpressed with your ability to ambush not only me but the other people you’ve trapped into doing your article,” You crossed your legs, adjusting the waist band of your trousers and continued to scowl at her. Claire had only heard of your less than cheerful personality, though it remained largely rumored, she had never had it confirmed or dared to see it in person.

           “How, charming,” She rolled her eyes.

           “Look, you don’t want to be talking to me, I don’t want to be talking to you. Just tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

           Claire watched as you reached across your desk to grab your black and white planner, flipping open to the weeks page and holding your pen at the ready. The inside, covered in stickers and hand lettered phrases, fit the persona Claire so desperately wanted to mimic.

           “I need you to read and sign this,” Claire slid the agreement across your glass desk. “Then, I need you to identify the username of your troll, and I need to borrow an intern from your team.”  

           “You can’t have one,”

           “Marissa said I could have whatever I needed, and I need an intern to comb through your tweets.”

           “I can save you the trouble, I rarely tweet, when I do, it’s addressing the same ass hat,” You explained.

           “Well, I need their handle,”

           “Fine,”

           “And the intern,” Claire was firm.

           You rolled your eyes, before pressing the intercom. “Hey Alexis, can you send Erin to me?”

           “Sure thing,” Alexis replied.

           “Thank you,”

           Claire rolled her eyes.

           “Jealous?” You questioned.

           “Read the contract, sign it and send it back to me along with answering the Form that’s in your inbox,” Claire directed.

           “Great,”

           “I’ll be back on Friday to go over your tweets and exchanges before we decide on a tactic to reach out to them and ask them to come in for an interview,” Claire explained. It didn’t annoy you that she was prepared, but it did piss you off a little to know how much she had thought this through. Maybe you should give her a chance, professionally, not socially, Claire would remain a bottom feeder.

           “Who says they’re in the city?” You questioned.

           “If not, we’ll Zoom with them, okay?”

           “Excuse me, you wanted to see me?” Erin peered through the door; wavy bangs parted slightly to expose her forehead and freckled cheeks.

           “Yes, your projects are on hold. Claire here needs your help with her feature article, and as my intern, you are to report to her for the remainder of the project,” You explained.

           Erin’s eyes widened, never had she been reassigned to a special project, let alone with Claire who was notorious for running interns and assistants into the ground. “Who will take over my work?”

           “Can you make a list of where you’re at and send it to me? I will meet with the team tomorrow to talk about where we need to fill in the gaps,”

           “Okay,”

           “Claire, this is Erin, if you are a bitch to her, I will ensure you don’t ever write a feature piece or move past copy editor here or anywhere,”

           “I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to me like –

           “I am your superior, and you will respect my intern or face the consequences,”

           “Fine,” Claire turned and left, leaving Erin wondering what on earth she had been roped into.

Tuesday: Happy Hour

           “You gave the real handle?” Hoseok asked over drinks after work, a little happy hour to celebrate leaving the office before 7PM.

           “What was I going to do? She could easily look at my Twitter and Instagram and find out, why lie?”

           “What happened to preservation?” Hoseok mocked.

           “Either I give in and get Claire off my back, or I get called to Marissa’s and have consequences, like I’m a fucking child.”

           Hoseok eyed you suspiciously. “Did you give her his name?”

           “You saw in that meeting, she already knows. I blame you,”

           “Me?”

           “Yes you, always talking about dance classes with Jimin, the good old days of photographing him and styling him in college. He abandoned me to go to school with you, and you’ve taken it all in stride.” You explained. It wasn’t a new story, a new plea, a new exploration of your tempestuous non-relationship with Jimin. It was sad, really, listening to you express the hurt you’ve never let go of.

           “He didn’t abandon you to come to school with me,” Hoseok laughed.

           “Potato, Tomato,”

           “You should talk-

           “Nope, you made your once monthly ‘you should talk to Jimin’ comment a week ago over margheritas, you don’t get another for ten more days,” You scolded.

           “Fine, fine.”

           “I don’t even know where he is,” You muttered, pink liquid of your Paloma slipping down your throat.

           “That’s a lie,”

           “Can you stop calling me out and let me hate him?” You hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant chatter revolving around Jimin was too much to handle, it was too much in two days, too much in the years since you last saw him. Park Jimin was, and has remained, too much.  

           “Fine,” Hoseok resigned. “Have you looked at your tweets lately?”

           “No, I refuse to go back and read whatever horrors I wrote in 2019,”

           “You should,” He suggested.

           “I guarantee Claire will force me to read them. Probably aloud at some last-minute staff meeting she puts together on Friday to fucking fillet me,” You rolled your eyes again, the last dregs of grapefruit clumping together as they slid down the side of your glass.

           “Maybe if you weren’t so,” He starts.

           “Bitchy?”

           “Your words, then she would like you,”

           “She’s hated me since I got there, I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cordial. Claire and I will never mix,” You explained.

           “He’s gone blonde you know,” Hoseok’s eyes have flittered past you, glancing down the street at the setting sun, glad he brought his latest Gucci jacket to keep him warm in the early spring evening.

           “Didn’t you hit your moratorium on how long you can talk about Jimin in a conversation?”

           “You said his name!” Hoseok argued.

           “He isn’t Trump, Hoseok. I can say his name, sometimes.”  

           Hoseok let the moment simmer, cooling gently before turning it up to a raucous boil. “I’m having a kick back next Wednesday, will you come?”

           “If he’s not there,” You answered.

           “I can’t promise that,”

           “Then I can’t promise either,” Chewing the ice from your glass, you let your mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen should you show up to Hoseok’s party and are greeted by Jimin. Blonde Jimin. Jimin with the sparkling eyes and winning smile. Jimin who harasses you on the internet weekly, Jimin who you haven’t spoken to since you were 22, Jimin whom you hated with every fiber of your being.

           Worst case scenario, you couldn’t avoid him and would be forced to speak words to him. Best case, you time it perfectly and he’s either just left or hasn’t arrived and you can doll out pleasantries before Irish-goodbying and never having to confront him.

           “Y/N, please, you haven’t seen my new place yet and it’s finally furnished,” Hoseok pleaded.

           “I’ll think about it,” You resigned.

           “Great!”

           “I fucking hate you and our friendship,” You scoffed, signaling the waiter to bring you the check. You should’ve ordered food, being buzzed and talking about Jimin was never a good idea.

           “I know you do.” Hoseok winked before picking up the tab for you both.

           “At least tell me you haven’t invited Seokjin,” You asked, slipping your coat over your shoulders.

           “Well-

           “You’re fucking with me, right?” You questioned. “You fucking invited both of my exes to a, I’m sorry, kick back? Hoseok, no.”

           “I love you, and I’m sorry, Seokjin helped me find some great pieces for the place, and you know he’s friends with Namjoon and Jungkook,” He tried to explain.

           “That doesn’t mean I want to stare at them over my tenth flute of champagne and my plate which will be piled high with cheese and crackers and pieces of salami.”

           “You and Seokjin are fine though, you ended-

           “Don’t say amicably,” You cut him off.

           “Well, close to it. Please,” He begged. Begging never looked good on Hoseok.

           Staring into his dark irises, a shade mimicking your own, you couldn’t hold the anger brewing. Being around Seokjin was always a better alternative than Jimin. Though the pity he often felt towards you, at your angered state which has never really subsided, was embarrassing. “I’ll think about it.”

           “I love you,” Hoseok pulled you into a hug.

           “Yeah, yeah, then why do you keep doing this to me?”

           “Because I love you,”

           “Tell Taehyung to call me,” You said, waving to him before stepping into the waiting Lyft you’d called at the bar.

           “I will, can’t make any promises,” Hoseok winked before turning towards the subway, where he’d pull out his head phones and scan through the photos he’d taken throughout the day, waiting to get home to Taehyung to analyze, edit and critique them.

Thursday: Claire’s Makeshift Office

           “Are you ready?” Claire asked, sifting through the papers on her desk.

           “You had me come to your office, after you scheduled a meeting to ask if I’m ready? Yes Claire, I’m fucking ready,” You snapped.

           “Erin,” Claire gestured towards your intern who tried to hold her eye roll.

           “So, I combed through your tweets, sifting through your interactions with Mochimin, which is a very creative username,” Erin began.

           “Yeah, his name and nickname combined,” You rolled your eyes.

           “And we read through them all, well mostly me… and I have to ask, are you sure these are your tweets?” Erin questioned.

           “Yes, and what should be his responses,” You answered reaching forward to grab the printed copies waiting for you. You scanned over the interactions, the subtweets, the blatant tags, the retweets and comments not just by Jimin, but a few of your friends too.

           “Why have you been telling us he’s the troll?” Erin asked.

           Her question caught you off guard, eyes wide, shock echoing in your bones.

           “What the fuck? What do you mean? Look at how he fucking responded!”

           “Y/N, you’re the troll!” Erin laughed. “It’s you, not him,”

           “I am not! This is a fucking joke! It’s not April Fools yet, way to put the cart before the horse!” Your voice radiated throughout the small conference room.

          Claire, not having an office of her own, had requested it to conduct most of her teams work. It was your least favorite of the conference rooms, colder both in décor and temperature than the others, it was situated on the corner leading to the kitchen. Glass on two walls, it was the definition of exposed. Everyone could see your outburst. Everyone could watch you fall to pieces. You guessed Claire had planned it this way, to demonstrate how focused her team was, how dedicated to the project they were, to show everyone her value as a staff writer instead of a freelancer. You also assumed she did this to ensure that whatever break down you were beginning to have, would have at least ten witnesses, ten people to side with her that your behavior was irresponsible and reckless.

           “Oh please, get over yourself,” Claire chuckled. The light in her eyes proved your assumptions, she was enjoying this. “Do you see how you interact with him?”

          “What do you mean how I interact with him? He started this!” You lowered your volume, side glances from colleagues passing by alerting you to the unprofessional decibels you’d began reaching.

          “In almost every interaction, you bait him, hook line and sinker. It’s you, Y/N,” Erin explained.

           “No!”

           “Yes, this poor man, just living his life while you’re purposefully harassing him!” Claire feigned shock, eyes widening, mouth slightly open. It was taking everything in you not to resort to physical violence.  

           “I would never,” You glowered.

           “You have! For years, it’s always you,” Erin said again.

          “I, no, that’s impossible. He started it!”

          “Admitting is the first step,” Claire’s placid smile was demanding to be smacked off.

          “Fuck you! This is ridiculous!”

          “July 10, 2020: Thinking of one man in particular, hoping the bleach in his locks burns in the summer heat.Followed by his comment: thinking of one woman in particular, hoping she knows I wear a hat and use purple shampoo.” Erin read.

          “I, I, no!”

          “October 13: Nothing makes me happier than not being invited to a birthday bash with all my friends. He responded: All you have to do is ask. On your birthday, he tweeted: Happy B-Day to the girl who … oh never mind she hates me. You responded: nobody asked for your half-hearted bullshit, next time I hope you choke on it.”

          “He started it!”

          “Why are you so awful to him?” Erin wanted to know.

          “I am not, he began harassing me first,” You tried to argue.

          “Does Hoseok know?” Claire chided.

          “Know what?”

          “About your vendetta,”

          “It’s not a vendetta!”

          “Then explain why you tweet or subtweet him at least twice a week, and then when he responds, tweet him again! You don’t even tag him, just vaguely mention discernable parts of his personality or appearance,” Erin explained.

          “I do not! How do you know what he looks like?” You tried to counter.

          “His profile picture, and a certain friend of yours doesn’t mind sharing-

          “You asked Jungkook? Or was it Taehyung? Or I’m sorry, both?” Your eyes were wide, breathing labored, anger boiling to inhumane levels.

          “Well, if we asked Hoseok you would’ve kno-

          “You called or texted or DM’ed Jungkook and Taehyung, and asked about Jimin?”

          “Yes,” Erin bowed her head, guilt written into the freckles her blush tried so desperately to hide.

          “I cannot believe you, Erin,” You spat.

          “I’m sorry Claire wanted me to,”

          You turned your gaze to Claire, who had begun to cower in her seat.

          “You did the one thing, the absolute one thing that you knew, you fucking knew, would set me off. You did this on purpose, you fucking bottom feeder, you fucking dillweed you crossed the fucking line, Claire,” You spat. Your volume had lowered into a low growl, far more deadly and intimidating than any yelling you had done.

          “We have the proof, Y/N, you can’t deny it, you attack Jimin regularly,” Claire unskillfully attempted to move the conversation away from Jungkook and Taehyung. Like you would balk at her intrusion.

          “You don’t get to violate my personal life, to violate the lives of the people I care deeply about, to expose sources and put them in danger should this article go south, poking and prodding into the lives of people who are dealing with their own bullshit to push your own fucking agenda, Claire,” You were seething, Te Fiti in Moana, Mrs. Weasley against Bellatrix, Kim Kardashian against the ocean searching for her diamond. Your wrath knows no bounds, and Claire had finally crossed the line into territory she could never come back from.

          “It’s for the job, nothing personal.” Claire shrugged. You could see it in her eyes, she wanted blood and was elated to be getting it.

          “This is entirely personal.”

          “Well, you can ask Jimin about it when we interview him,” She smiled, lips upturning revealing her veneers, red lipstick perfectly matte and shaped against her thin flesh.

          “No, absolutely not,” You shook your head.  

          “Yes, that’s part of the deal you agreed to,”

          “I take it back. I revoke my consent!”

          “It’s non-negotiable,” Marissa said. She had sauntered in during your berating, watching as you tried and failed to continue believing that you weren’t the troll. “You have agreed to this, and you will sit through the interview and cordially answer Claire’s questions.”

          “Marissa, this is crossing a line,” You stated.

          “You have to be held accountable,” Claire said.

          “Fuck you, Claire. Believe it or not, there are somethings that are beyond your understanding and a few that are not appropriate for work,” You continued to scold her.

          “Y/N, why are you being so hostile?” Claire was mocking you, with Marissa by her side, she was invincible.

          “You picked me on purpose. What have you been working with Hoseok? Is this some larger plan to get me to talk to Jimin? I don’t want to talk with Jimin or talk to Jimin, isn’t it bad enough he’s being brought into my work? Oh and let’s not forget you using Erin and Hoseok to gain access to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are beyond off limits.” You listed each of her offenses, careful to leave out indiscretions that occurred before this project of hers began.  

          “You agreed to-

          “No, I was forced to do this by you, Marissa,” You began.

          It wasn’t hard to glower at Marissa, one of the most decorated editors in chief, beloved by Condé Nast, best friend of Anna Wintour… Everyone aspired to be her, but in the last year, through your promotion and growing turbulence within the magazine, her leadership had begun to falter. Her steady hand, guiding each staff writer and editor towards success and elevating everyone’s work, was crumbling at an alarming pace. Yet, no one knew why or if anything was being done to rectify the damage her wake was leaving.

          “I was coerced into this under some pretense that I owe Claire something for a so called fuck up that resulted in the biggest boon in our magazines readership in the last year, which was followed up by not one but two feature bylines and my promotion. I have done more than enough at this company, in this industry, to sit here and be forced to engage with a man who destroyed my world. I will not speak with him, or to him or listen to him. I will not, and if you force me, I will get legal involved. Should this bullshit continue, you can expect my letter of resignation next week.”

          Standing and shoving your chair in, you turned on the heels of your Oxfords and marched straight to your office. Closing your laptop and shoving your planner into your tote, you grabbed your phone.

          “Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He moved in time with you, following down the many corridors of your office and towards the elevators.

          As you stepped in, you pressed lobby and waited for the doors to be closed before turning to him.

          “Did you tell Erin she could contact Jungkook and Taehyung?” You asked.

          “She did what?” Hoseok yelled, soundwaves bounding off the metal and plastic of the elevator, reverberating in your ears.

          “Did you?”

          “No, I can’t believe she, are you serious?” Hoseok couldn’t lie, a fundamental flaw in his design made it impossible for him to tell the smallest fib.

          “Did you work with Erin and Claire to get me involved in this feature? To get me to talk to Jimin?” You didn’t mince your words or pad your language to make him feel less attacked. You needed the answer, and you needed it now.

          “No, I didn’t know Claire was doing this until she pitched it. You think I would-

          “Hoseok, they called Jungkook and Taehyung. They want Jimin to come in to be interviewed, they won’t stop until I-

          “Until you what?”

          “Marissa has always supported me, championed me. But Claire has her number, she has her locked and loaded, aiming for me and I don’t know why,” You confided.

          “She has been slipping lately,” He agreed. “There’s only one way to stop this,”

          Together you stepped out of the elevator, moving past the turnstiles to the revolving door.

          “Am I crazy?” You asked, the insecurity beginning to overtake your bravery.

          “No, something weird is going on,”

          You clarified, “No, I mean, am I crazy for… for doing this to Jimin?”

          “I don’t know if you’re crazy, but you’ve definitely not been your best self,” Hoseok answered.

          “He makes me so-

“You still love him,” Hoseok interrupted.

          “I-

          “Go talk to him,” Hoseok encouraged. “Call me after, we can get drinks and wallow or pick out an outfit for your hot date.”

          “What if he-

          “Just, talk to him, okay?” Hoseok requested.

          “Okay,”

          “I’ll check in with Jungkookie and Taehyungie,” He assured.

          “Thank you,”

          “I’ll also scope out open positions, we can’t stay here,”

          “I love you, Hobi,” You confided, a statement that flowed so easily past your lips, you didn’t have to think or parse through the emotions that went along with it. You’ve always loved him, always will.

          “I love you too, Y/N,” Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulders before placing a kiss to your forehead, a gentle embrace, a squeeze of confidence, a gesture of love. He moved swiftly from you back into the building, and as you watched him walk away, you took a deep breath.

          Taking your phone out of your pocket, you dialed a number you had tried to forget.

          “To what do I owe this unexpected delight of a call?” He asked. His voice was the same, chipper and cunning in the same breath.

          “I need to speak with you, ASAP,” You told him.

          “Okay, I’m working from home today, come over whenever,” He invited you without hesitation.

          “You still live at the same place?”

          “No, moved up. I’ll send you the address,”

          “You know who this is?” You asked, uncertainty back in your bones.

          “What, Y/N, you thought I deleted your number?” Jimin laughed, one of only a few sounds that shot right to your knees, making any posture unstable in the docile sounds of his joy.

          “I, I don’t know, I guess. Look I’m going to hail a cab, I’ll be there in 20,”

          “I look forward to it, just tell the doorman you’re here for me and he’ll let you up,” Jimin said.

          “Okay, see you soon, I guess,”

          “I can’t wait,” Jimin was smiling, you couldn’t see it, but the lilt in his voice was all the assurance you needed. Bracing yourself for the impact of him, of his voice, of his laugh, of the way he looked at you, you hailed one of the last remaining cabs in the city and prayed for courage.  

Next: Troll in Luv Pt. 2