#anyways you sent this a million years ago but i hope you like it! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[blindmagdalena]

Can I request a drabble? The length is up to you, where the homelander meets the reader for the first time, and they have a massive crush on him, and he can hear their heart going so fast and finds it so flattering and makes his ego much bigger than it needs to be. Thank you!!

ohhhhh this didn't entirely turn out the way i expected, but i hope you like it anyways! thanks so much for the request!

2.6k homelander x gn reader, sfw except for homelander's internal dialogue and a wee bit at the end. timeline is either early or pre s1. i know i usually skew towards female readers, but i tried to keep this one entirely gender neutral. let me know how i did, and enjoy! 🖤

Meeting fans is an everyday recurrence for Homelander. It's expected from a man of his station and notoriety. Aside from happenstance encounters during his daily duties, there’s also conventions and meet-and-greets. In addition, every once in a while, Vought employees are given the opportunity to invite friends and family for a tour of the tower. Rarer yet, for the chance to meet members of The Seven. Of them all, Homelander is without a doubt, in his humble opinion, the most enduring among them. Most often it’s children and spouses. For them, it’s the best day of their lives. For Homelander, it’s just another Wednesday.

Nonetheless, he tirelessly grins bright for every sticky-faced child and overgrown fanboy. He salutes diligently for selfies, and signs enough autographs to dry out his sharpie. The movements are automatic by now. Object comes in, object is signed, object is returned. Smile. Salute. You’re the real heroes!

Every single second of it is like the monotonous tick of a clock. Greasy fingers loudly slapping against touch screens, the occasional flash that he pretends doesn’t set his teeth on edge.

He’s handed another piece of paper, he signs it, he offers it back out.

Except you don’t take it. Instead, you’re just staring at him.

Suddenly, Homelander is zapped back to reality, the dissociative clockwork grind coming to a halt. He blinks, looking down, and realizes the paper he’s just signed is an envelope. Beneath his scrawling signature, a previous note is visible: To Homelander. He assumes that’s your name written just below it. It’s a letter for him.

“Oh, haha. Wow. Talk about your bonehead moves,” he says, lifting a gloved hand to playfully knock on his own skull. “Hello, is anyone home?”

You laugh, and he takes the opportunity to actually look at you. You’re bright eyed and as starstruck as any fan, but there’s a sincerity to your smile that’s more noteworthy than most. Your gaze has clarity to it that tells him you’re not just looking at a famous person, you’re looking at him. He likes that. 

Now that he’s actually paying attention, he’s surprised the beat of your heart didn’t hook him first. It’s pounding in your chest, the heat of it giving you a healthy flush all over. He’s willing to bet he could feel the heat of your skin clear through his gloves. Look at you, he thinks, biting back a wolfish smile. He knows already that you’d melt sweeter than ice cream in his hands. He licks his lips, giving you a once over. His eyes move quickly enough that you couldn’t possibly have seen it.

You prove distracting enough that he doesn’t even notice the man at your side until he speaks.

“There, happy? Been begging me for this for weeks,” the man says, giving you a nudge. He grins when he says, “Now you owe me one.” Homelander cocks his head sharply, like a bird of prey catching sight of a rat. “I was not begging,” you say under your breath, visibly flustered. You pull away from his second attempt to nudge you. “Dan, please,” you say, the word stressed in a way that seems to hold meaning between the two of you.

Please what, Dan? How about ‘Please don’t fucking embarrass me in front of the goddamn Homelander’?

Homelander sizes the guy up, subtly quirking a brow. He looks like someone’s intern, or maybe a tech grunt. Flimsy, without an ounce of charisma or presence. He probably would have mistaken the guy for a tall house plant if he hadn’t said anything.

“This your boyfriend?” He asks, maintaining that friendly tone of his. Neither of you seem to notice the edge creeping into it. He taps the envelope absently against his palm. “No! No, no,” You’re quick to say. Homelander doesn’t miss the look Dan gives you at the sharpness of your response. “Just friends.”

He smiles. Woof, that’s gatta sting, huh, buddy? It’s hilarious to think what this guy thought bringing you to Homelander was gonna do for his obvious situation. Did he think it was gonna get him a nice thank-you blowjob, or worse, a relationship? As if you’d have any interest in Dan after meeting an honest to god superhero. Someone you’ve apparently been begging to meet, which certainly paints a pretty picture.

Homelander begins peeling open the letter, but you throw out your hand to stop him, gently touching the top of his. He was right, he really can feel the heat of you through the leather. “Wait! I’m sorry, I just want to say thank you, and tell you that I admire you so much, which is already in that letter, and I’m rambling, and I’m sorry for that too, but I would probably shrivel up and die right now if you read that letter before I’m twenty miles away,” you say, nervous laughter bubbling up towards the end. You belatedly snatch your hand away, twice as flustered as you had been a moment before. He can still feel the lingering warmth of your hand on his.

“Holy smokes, fan behavior much?” Dan laughs, wrapping his arm around you to give your shoulder a little shake. It’s pathetic how desperately he’s trying to make himself relevant right now. Worse than that is how blatantly uninterested in him you are. Homelander very nearly rolls his eyes.

Instead, he purposefully softens his expression. He tucks the letter into his belt, and puts his hands on his hips. “Say, I don’t suppose you’ve seen the courtyard yet, have you? They call it The Garden of Heroes,” he says, leaning in to whisper the last bit to you, as if it’s a secret.

Your breath catches when he leans so near to you, and you shake your head. You give such a sweet little smile, he almost kisses you right then and there. You’re so wrapped around his finger, he’s sure you’d welcome it. He’d love to rub it in the nose of this joke of a man standing next to you, a man who was idiotic enough to deliver someone he clearly wanted right into Homelander’s hands.

Instead, he simply gestures you forward. “Then allow me to finish out your tour properly.”

You look thoroughly enchanted, eyes blown wide, lips parted. “Okay, yes! Sure. I would love that,” you say, excited as can be. You take a step forward, and he maneuvers himself perfectly between you and Dan, settling a hand on the small of your back to guide you. As the three of you walk, he catches Dan’s eye, and tosses him a wink.

For the rest of the walk, he savors the sound of Dan gritting his teeth.

Outside, Homelander gestures broadly to Vought’s expansive courtyard garden. It’s decorated with statues of heroes past and present, staggering monuments kept in pristine condition. He walks the two of you down a handful of rows, but in accordance with his plan, he stops abruptly. Putting his hands on his hips, he blows a raspberry. “You know, the view’s just not the same from down here.” Next, he makes a face, as if this brilliant idea has only just occurred to him, and snaps his fingers before he points to you. “Hey, why don’t you let me show you my view?”

“Your view?” You echo, glancing at Dan, who by this point has taken the very mature approach of outright moping. “Yeah! C’mere, let me give you a real tour,” he says, holding his hand out to you.

“Uh, I don’t think that–” Dan begins, but you’re already stepping past him, taking Homelander’s outstretched hand. With a bright smile, you say, “I’d love that.”

For as eagerly as you accept, you still yelp when Homelander effortlessly hauls you up into his arms. With one arm at your back, and the other supporting your knees, he says, “Hang on tight,” and shoots into the sky so swiftly, Dan is left shielding his face from the swirling winds of debris your ascent kicks up.

At first, Homelander thinks you’re screaming. After a beat, however, he realizes you’re laughing, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck, you’d be choking out anyone else. Gradually, he slows to a stop, hovering dozens upon dozens of feet off the ground, Dan and the gardens below a distant thought. Your breaths are coming in sharp and shallow, and if he thought your heart was pounding before, it’s nothing compared to now. It might just burst right out of your chest.

You’re still working out the giggles, or maybe you’re coming down from a mild hysteria. Either way, you eventually start to breathe more evenly, though your hold around his neck doesn’t loosen whatsoever.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, peering down at the distant earth below. When you turn back to look at him, you look surprised all over to be face to face with him. Homelander, who hasn’t taken his eyes off you, flashes his best hero’s smile. He’s satisfied by the way you fluster all over again, quickly looking away, hyper aware of how close your faces are, the press of your bodies as he holds you. It all happened so fast, perhaps it hadn’t dawned on you when you accepted that you would be so wholly at his mercy, snug in his arms, fifty feet in the air.

Works every time.

Homelander absently taps his fingers where he’s holding your leg. “What’d I tell you? Nothing beats this view.”

“It’s amazing,” you say, lifting your gaze to stare out across the city scape. “I can’t believe you can just… do this. You’re amazing,” you say, and though you don’t meet his eye, the sincerity in that praise strikes right through to the core of him like a hot lance.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, musing on every one of his wonders he could show you. If you think this is amazing, wait until you see what he can do with his strength.

The wind must be loud in your ears, because you look back to him and ask, “What?”

“I said you’re too kind,” he says louder, teeth sharp and pearly white as he lies cleanly through them. You smile, none the wiser, but this time your gaze lingers on his. Your arms aren’t in quite such a chokehold around his neck anymore. You’re leaning against him more easily now, learning to trust the security of his hold.

“Do you do this for all your smitten fans?” You ask. You must think you’re being subtle with the way your fingers are toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, but he feels it viscerally. Whether you know it or not, you’re making it difficult for him to focus, to maintain the facade.

“Smitten?” He repeats, his smile turning a touch sly. “Is that what that letter is about?”

“Oh, god,” you say, lifting your hand from his neck to cover your face. He wishes you’d put it back, keep playing with his hair like that. “On second thought, maybe give me that back. Or burn it.” “No, no, it’s mine now. What’s in it? I mean, I could always just read it now,” he says, taking his arm from your back to reach threateningly for his belt. The lack of support prompts you to secure your arms back around his neck with a cute, distressed little noise.

“To be completely honest, I’d rather you dropped me,” you say, earning a bark of laughter from him. It’s the first genuine laugh he’s had all day. Maybe all week.

“Cahhh’mooooonnn,” he drawls, putting his arm back around you. “It can’t be that bad.” “It’s pretty tragic,” you lament, though your sheepish little smile suggests otherwise. He lifts both brows, stubbornly holding your gaze until you finally exhale a breath that tells him he’s won. “I… God, this is embarrassing. You, uhm… I know that I don’t know the real you, but who you are to the public, and the things you do… You mean a lot to me. You’ve brought me a lot of comfort. Helped bring me out of some pretty dark places, and I wanted to say thank you. For that. For choosing to be someone good when a lot of people weren’t.”

Homelander blinks. It shouldn’t catch him off guard. Your sincerity was what drew him in in the first place. Of course you don’t know the real him. No one does. By that same token, no one’s ever acknowledged to his face that there might be more to him than what Vought spoon feeds America’s braindead population through movies, TV specials, hokey interviews, and every other possible means of exploitation.

You don’t talk like you know him, but you sure as fuck sound as though you’d like to know him.

The silence stretches on just a hair too long, and he sees uncertainty rising in your eyes. He clears his throat, and breaks the sudden tension with a well practiced chuckle. “Well, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it? They save people.”

“Yeah,” you say, and he’s not sure how he can be expected to think when your fingers graze the back of his neck like that. “You’ve always been my hero.”

He’s close to you now, closer than ever before. He can’t smell anything aside from the crisp scent of peppermint lingering on your breath. He imagines you popping a mint between those soft lips in anticipation of this moment, as if you were the mastermind who had orchestrated all of this, and not the other way around. For the first time, he lets you see the way his gaze dips briefly to your mouth. He licks his own lips reflexively.

“Righty then, whelp… You’ve got a choice to make now,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “I can begin our descent, deliver you safely back onto solid ground, back to… Dan,” he says, unable to keep the edge of distaste off his tongue when he drops the name. “And the two of you can go about your day.”

He waits long enough that you’re the one to prompt him with, “Or…?”

“Or,” he picks up, lips curving into a pleased smile. “I can just take you straight home, and you can forget all about whatever he thinks you owe him.”

You bite your lip, stifling a smile. There it is again, the quickening of your pulse, the eager pattering of your heart. Now he can feel the heat of your body against him, seeping through the layers that separate you, teasing him.

“Sounds like I’ll just be going from owing him to owing you,” you say, playing as if you’re mentally balancing the pros and cons between the two. He doesn’t buy it for a second.

Homelander clicks his tongue. “Mmm, mhm, mm. I see. And is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him. For the first time in as long as he can remember, Homelander is genuinely shocked by it. Between the heartfelt letter, the shy smiles and the generally reserved way you’d handled yourself, he really didn’t think you had it in you. Yet here he is, melting into the press of your lips–they’re as soft as they looked–and pulling you closer, deeper. 

A noise dangerously close to a whimper escapes the back of his throat when you push your fingers up into his hair. He opens easily to the first swipe of your tongue, reciprocating without hesitation. What he had previously interpreted as shyness strikes him now as finely measured control.

You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?

By the time the two of you part, you’re both breathing in shallow, warm huffs against the others lips.

“I’m good with risks,” you say, voice low. “Are you?”

Homelander, wild-eyed and hard as a rock, laughs airily. “Fuck yes I am.”

You smile, making no attempts this time to hide it, and finally, Homelander sees deviousness to the edges of it that he did not notice before. “Good. Then take me home.”

With goddamn pleasure.

[love-quinn]

— GOOGLE REVIEWS

summary — carmen's never been good with his words, so when he finds you crying in the walk-in, he gets some help to convince you that you're capable of doing your job.

warnings — swearing, general customer-service nightmare stuff. reader is younger than carmen but i pictured/wrote her as being mid-late twenties (25-28 ish) and i think carmy is early 30s so there's an age gap but they're both fully adults, also boss/employee relationship so power imbalance but also nothing happens between them

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 1.9k

note — first carmen fic so obligatory warning that he might be OOC, i rlly work on dialogue and shit but i am finding my footing. waitress!reader is kinda special to me i might write some more about them cause they're both so silly if that's something people would be interested in? anyway i hope you enjoy :3

“Stupid… fucking useless- fuck!”

The rush is familiar. The lunch rush, the dinner rush, the fifteen different orders jumbling in your head as you struggle to write it all down in time. Holding nine full glasses of nine different drinks in one hand and struggling to push open the door to run the food out into the dining room. Having to go to Richie and tell him that someone’s card declined so you didn’t have to be the one to tell them. Going into the walk-in and just opening your mouth in a silent scream just to go back out there and finish your shift. 

The rush of cold air on the back of your neck is familiar too. You don’t know what Carmen’s yelling about in the kitchen. You’d just stepped in there to grab food and had caught the tail end of his rant and you’d left with your tray and a million possibilities running through your head.

You’d written something down wrong and now a dish needed to be remade. 

You’d left one of the fridges open and spoiled days worth of food.

You’d given someone something they were allergic to and now you were being sued.

You move through the restaurant on autopilot, avoiding people and chairs and one of Richie’s spitballs sent from behind the counter. You’re so sure that the next time you went back in that kitchen Carmy would be pulling you aside and telling you that you’re fired. 

You deliver the food to the table with a smile and stand back upright to check in with them about that being everything. One of the women sits up a little straighter, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I ordered a side of the lemon herb dressing?”

You look down at her dressing-less plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back with that one, so sorry.”

She waves you off. “You take as long as you need to, honey.”

You practically speed back to the kitchen. Oh, god. You hoped you’d at least get that poor woman her dressing before Carmy fired you. You can’t believe that you managed to screw this up. You’d been lucky to get this job. Carmen had brought you on right when he’d opened up the restaurant and the rest of The Bear had all been super welcoming.

You got on best with Sydney, the two of you were similar in age and she was one of the kindest people you knew. You and Richie also had a nice relationship, you thought he hated you when you first got hired and then he walked out into the alley to have a cigarette, found you crying and punched a guy in the face for you. 

You needed this job. You’d graduated a few years ago and were still struggling to break through in your field, and this job paid the bills and didn’t make you cry every single day. Some days, sure, but not every day. 

You knew you weren’t the best waitress ever, you screwed up and made customers yell at you pretty frequently. You were lucky that Richie liked you enough to stand up for your honor even when you were probably wrong. But you tried your absolute best, you came into work every day and genuinely wanted to help. You respected all of the chefs so much, they all worked so hard, and you wanted to make their lives as easy as possible. 

You go over to Richie and murmur something to him about the dressing, and he takes it to the kitchen. First whatever you’d done to upset Carmy, now this. If he didn’t think you knew how to do your job before, he definitely will now. You glanced over your section. All your tables were eating or had ordered, you’d normally be checking with Sugar when the next reservation was due and triple-checking the table was clean and everything was prepared. 

If you were going to get a walk-in minute in, now would be the best time. Maybe you could do it before Carmy fired you. 

You brush past Tina, not even hearing her concerned call for you. The walk-in was empty and everyone in the kitchen understood. When someone goes into the walk-in with tears in their eyes you leave them alone for as long as you can. 

You can’t believe that you were stupid enough to screw this up. 

The door slams open and you wipe your eyes, expecting it to be Tina needing to actually do her job or Marcus wanting to check on you. It’s Carmen.

“What happened?” He hadn’t been expecting to see you so upset. He’d heard the door slam and wanted to leave it alone, but then Richie had raised his eyebrows, stopping mid-sentence.

“God, I can’t wait to hear about whatever asshole yelled at her this time,” he’d shaken his head, trying to go back to what he’d been talking to Carmy about before. One of the shelves had been knocked and two containers of flour had been completely emptied out onto the floor. They had lids on, lids with clamps on them that were meant to stop that from happening but lo and behold Fak was now mopping up something that was beginning to resemble bread dough with how much water he was trying to use. . 

“Who?” Carmy’s eyes had still been glued to the walk-in. Richie had said your name and Carmen had practically excused himself in the same breath. This time? Did you get yelled at by customers a lot?

You wipe your face, shaking your head. “Sorry, Carm. I guess I just needed a second, I’ll get back out there.”

You take a step forward and he, without meaning to, moves to block the door. You feel your heart rate climb. This was it, he was going to scream at you in the walk-in. “You’re crying.”

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want this to happen, you didn’t want to be crying in front of your boss. Especially not Carmen. He’s a lot, you know that. You’re not in the kitchen a whole lot, but when you are he’s usually not super happy. He’s a yeller, half of Chicago knows that. But he’s always kind to you, he gave you a job when you were fresh out of college in an unrelated field with no experience because he could tell how much you needed one. You often felt out of place slightly, through no fault of the other staff. They spent all shift in the kitchen together and you spent your entire shift out there in the dining room. You know they’re not having sleepovers and braiding each others’ hair in there, but your work mostly took place in a different room.

But Carmen always makes sure you get Family, that you get your break even if it’s scheduled while it’s busy and that Richie isn’t skimming your tips (he’d never, but Carmen’s caught him with his hands in the jar so often that he isn’t sure anymore). 

It really doesn’t help that he looks like that.

You’re shaking, and he worries for a second that it’s because you’re standing in the freezer, but there are tears welling in your eyes and he doesn’t want to drag you out to his office when you’re so visibly upset. “I’m sorry,” you’re shaking your head. “Please don’t fire me.”

Carmen frowns. “Why would I fire you?”

The words seem to tumblr from your mouth without your permission. “I know I’m not the best waitress, I’m sure you get lots of complaints about me and I forgot that woman’s dressing and I know nothing about kitchens but I’m trying, Carm. I promise, and I’ll do better.” You’re talking so fast that he can barely keep up. He’s still caught up on the first part. 

“Wait, wait,” he holds a hand up to stop you. “Who told you you’re not a good waitress?”

You sniff, tears fully rolling down your cheeks. Carmen knows he’s rough. He’s prone to explosions. Carmen is a hurricane, he wreaks havoc on whatever environment he’s in. He sucks in everyone else’s bullshit, swirls it around and then spits it back out, leaving whatever is left in worse condition than he found it. 

You were calm. You calmed everyone. If an asshole yelled at Carmen, or Sydney or Ebra, Richie wouldn’t even dream of going out there and yelling at the customer. Marcus made you a cake on your birthday and Sydney tries all of her newest recipes on you. 

The eye of the hurricane. 

You’re prattling at this point. “-And that time that I made that guy wait fifteen minutes for a straw, and-”

“Honey,” he doesn’t mean to, that slips out without him meaning. “You’re a great waitress, who gives a shit that guy had to wait for his fucking straw? Who cares, you’re…” he can’t think of a way to talk to you. Great feels too impersonal, wonderful feels too intimate. It’s what you are, though. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re… everyone loves you. We’re lucky to- I’m sure you could get a job at any other restaurant if you wanted. You’re not a bad waitress.”

That’s apparently the wrong thing for him to say. It only makes you cry harder. “Please don’t fire me,” you look pathetic. Crying to your boss while he fires you in the middle of the freezer. 

Carmen doesn’t let that slide for a second longer than he has to. “Why the fuck would I fire you?”

You don’t need to answer. Because I’m a bad waitress. It hangs in the air like the frosty vapor that flies from his mouth every time he takes a breath. 

“I swear to fuck, you’re a big part of the reason people come in here,” he’s not lying. He knows his name carries weight, he knows people hear “Carmen Berzatto’s restaurant” and that brings them in the door a lot of the time. He pulls out his phone, reception is shit but he’s able to google the name of the restaurant. 

He doesn’t have to scroll far down the Google reviews before he finds it. “Food was great, waitress was lovely, made us feel so welcome.” He finds another one. “Waitstaff was on top of it. Two people at surrounding tables smashed glasses and from what I saw one waitress cleaned them both up and still managed to get our appetizers out on time.” 

He goes to find another one but stops, looking back up at you. “You’re not firing me?” You take a step back, dropping your entire body so you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor. He watches you, gauging your reaction, before mirroring you. Your knees are almost touching his. 

“I’d have to be a fucking moron.”

The silence is deafening. 

“Hey,” Carmen can’t bite back the shocked laugh. “That’s… alright. Fine.”

Hearing you laugh makes relief bubbled up inside of him. 

“I should go back out there,” you nod towards the door.

Carmy shakes his head, knee nudging against yours. “Richie’s got it, Marcus can walk desserts, Syd’s on top of everything. No one’s gonna hold it against you if you stay here for a bit.”

He stands, hand brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door. “Have you eaten today?”

You shake your head and he nods. “I’m gonna make you some pasta, okay? Richie can take over for a bit, you take your time in here I’ll be right outside, honey.” He shuts the door and your shoulder burns where he touched it. 

[seokgyuu]

Strawberry Wine - Part 1

Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this part) MDNI!

Synopsis: After breaking off your engagement to your cheating fiancé, you decide to take the planned trip to Paris anyway. A vacation alone with the honeymoon suite all to yourself seems like the perfect distraction. Just that, due to an internal error at the hotel lost soul Jihoon, who still isn't over his first love's death five years ago, is staying in the same honeymoon suite as you.

Warnings (in this part): mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, angst, probably a not so good description of paris tbh, the word "cock" is mentioned once, slight sexual tension

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: hi everyone!! this is part one of my story for the world tour collab hostes by @svthub!! check out the masterlist here! this one is a bit of a... beginning, i guess, lol. the real drama and smut and all that will be in part two. but i still think this is a a fun part to get to know our characters! this not beta read and i might edit it later... thanks for reading i hope you enjoy <3 header & divider credit to @okiedokrie!

one; the author

The flash of the camera goes off and you’re almost sure your eyes were closed. The teenage girl next to you smiles brightly and waves at you once more before rushing off to go over to her mother. You lightly smile back and look over to your right where Minghao is giving you a thumbs up. Apparently, so you interpret his gesture, you’re holding up quite well for someone who just caught her fiancée cheating two weeks ago. 

You’re aware that you could have canceled the book signing today. No one would have been mad. But even though your heart is shattered to a million pieces and you don’t think you’ll ever heal from this hurt - you still need to earn money and make those who give you that money happy. Just sucks that the person you build this with is somewhere on the Bahamas with your biggest rival on the romance book market. Or, well, as your publisher says: your bestest friend on the romance book market. Since you’re both making money, of course. You can’t count the times you and her have been sent to events together, not saying a word to each other on the way there and playing happy family the second you are in front of the cameras. 

Her books weren’t even good! Boring and predictable if anyone asked you. Your ex had always agreed with you, even if he was her agent as well as yours. But Jaehyun was slick - he told her the same about your books. 

“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.

“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?” 

The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you. 

“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well. 

“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.

“Best friend dearest,” he starts, “you know what I meant. Considering you have been in your room with no lights on and Adele on repeat for the last few months - you did exceptionally well socializing with people you don’t know.”

“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?” 

“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”

Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different. 

Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time. 

The city lights are what keep you awake. Exhaustion and the feeling of sadness that you have become so used to are close to make you falter, to make you want to go home and put those Adele songs right back on repeat. It’s not fair, you think. Not fair that your life was ruined this way and you can’t get back up. That all you’re able to do is live because you have to, not because you want to. And the closer July 17th comes - the more you feel yourself falling deeper into a hole. 

It’s hard to believe that three months ago you were a completely different person. A person who loved to laugh, who had fun game nights with her friends, cooked every day, went for runs in the morning, planned a wedding. You were a person who loved to love. All of this was accompanied by the person you had been sure you’d spend the rest of your life with: Jaehyun. He was tall, handsome, kind. You had met him through work - he had been assigned your agent when you switched publishers. He was your muse. Helped you with your books, made the sales sky rocket with the way he marketed you. 

For five years he was your everything. In some ways (ways you loathed) he still is. Your whole life revolved around him. Wherever you went - he did too. Whenever you fell - he was there to catch you. Nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for what was going to happen. But then again, when is someone ever prepared to be cheated on by the person they trusted the most in their life? 

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Accidentally finding the messages he sent to her on his iPad. Confronting him and seeing his face fall, his expressions change into something you had never thought possible. He looked caught. Mainly because he was. Also because he never thought the truth would come to light. You had been the only one left in the dark. Everyone at the publishing house knew what he was doing. He and her. 

It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but in the beginning you couldn’t handle being mad at Jaehyun. Instead you focused all your anger on her, all the hurt you felt. It wasn’t like you had particularly liked her before - she was your rival, the person everyone always compared you to. She was younger than you, didn’t have as much experience - but she was more successful. At least to an extent. Her books regularly went viral on ‘booktok’, mainly because she wrote them like she worked in a factory. Every couple of months there’d be a new one - and people ate it up. You, on the other hand, liked to take your time, liked to write stories with captivating characters, with characters people could relate to - fall in love with. 

Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything. 

It is a little different now. 100 days later and you feel like you don’t love him as much anymore. Yes, it still hurts like hell and, yes, you want to stay home most of the days. But you don’t miss him as much as you used to. 

“Do you want to grab a drink?” Minghao asks now even though he already knows the answer. Gosh, you wish you could give him a yes. A smile and a yes. Instead, you only present him with the first, stretching out your hand and reaching for his.

“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”

Minghao nods slowly, a sad smile on his pretty lips. He understands, he really does. But he also misses his happy best friend. Misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile wholeheartedly , misses the sound of you honest laugh. No matter how many time will pass, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive Jaehyun for what he’s done to you.

Fighting with a french man on the phone at the crack of dawn surely had not been on your agenda for today. 

“I’m sorry, miss, but the cancellation period ended two weeks ago, there is nothing we can do.” 

It’s too early and you are too tired. He is probably too by now, considering he has been saying this sentence at least five times in the past seven minutes. You pull a hand through your hair and let it drop back onto the mattress after.

“My wedding isn’t happening anymore, and you really won’t let me cancel the honeymoon suite?” Usually, you’d never snap at anyone over the phone - especially custom service personnel, but this is different. What he’s implying means you won’t get any money back from one of the most expensive purchases you’ve made. Worst thing about this: you paid for this yourself. Jaehyun had paid the location - which of course could still be canceled. But the freaking hotel stay in Paris of course was set in stone! 

“I am very sorry, miss. I wish there was more that I could do. Perhaps you can take the trip yourself and enjoy our beautiful honeymoon sui-“

You hang up on him. It’s not polite, you’re aware. But just the thought of being alone in the suite you were supposed to enjoy with your freshly baked husband… no, absolutely not. Then, fine, you’d have to live with having spent thousands of dollars on a hotel suite you wouldn’t be able to use. 

As if life isn’t horrible enough already.

When you sit at brunch later that day with Minghao and your mutual friend Mingyu, they both stare at you like you’ve just told them you decided to get Jaehyun’s face tattooed on your thigh. 

“Are you kidding me? You basically get to have a Paris vacation for free for yourself!” Mingyu says, the glass of mimosa he is holding in his hand is almost spilling with the way he moves his arm. You scoff.

“What do you mean “free”? I literally paid for it months ago!” 

“Okay, and did you already make that money back?” Mingyu continues and raises his brow. You stay silent for a moment. 

The restaurant Minghao chose is filled with people enjoying the vegan food made from scratch. Your own very delicious avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit and soy-yogurt is laying in front of you, waiting to be eaten. The mimosa Minghao had ordered for you remains untouched. 

“She has.” Hao decides to answer for you as he sips from his mug of matcha. You shoot him a glare.

“So what! I’m not going to go to Paris by myself when this was supposed to be my honeymoon!” You try to stay quiet, looking from Minghao to Mingyu and back. Judging by their faces, they don’t seem to understand the big deal. 

You envy them. God, how much you wish you could just do it. Go on that already paid for vacation by yourself, not give a single damn about Jaehyun and his new girlfriend. Your heart sinks. Just thinking these words is making you feel like crawling back into bed. 

Minghao groans and puts his mug back on the table. 

“Y/N,” he starts and his voice sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him talk before - even Mingyu seems startled, “I get it, okay? I get that he hurt you, that he made you believe in something that was never going to work. He is an asshole, if not the biggest asshole walking freely on this earth. But you’re young! You’re young and you deserve better than this! Keeping to yourself, barely leaving your apartment - your bed, honey, it’s not good for you. I understand that you want to stay away, that the world is a fucking scary place without the person you thought was your person right there next to you,” he grabs your hand over the table, “but do you know what all of this means? That your person is still out there! That you can still find them! And what better place to start than Paris, the literal city of love!”

He means well. Just like the other night after the book signing. He means well and he wants just what’s best for you. No one wants you to feel better as much as he does. Then why does it make you so mad that he is asking this of you? That he is calling you out this way? 

You pull your hand away from his and grab your purse from the free chair next to yours. Both men gawk at you, startled.

“Y/N-,” Mingyu tries, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

“You get it, Hao? Really? Has your significant other of five years also cheated on you with your biggest rival? Did you also have to cancel a wedding you put hours and hours of work and money into? Because I don’t remember this happening to you! So, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the time I need to grieve this relationship and decide for myself when I am ready to get out again!”

Without giving them another look, you storm out of the restaurant. Everything around you is a blurr and you only notice that you’re crying when you reach your car. Cursing to yourself, you move to open your car, tears dripping from your cheeks down onto your shirt. God, what a pathetic little woman. Crying in your car after yelling at your best friends for what? For caring? For only meaning to help? 

It takes a while before you manage to start the engine and get on the road to drive home. The radio is silent and for a second you wished you could turn off your brain the same way. Just one switch and all thoughts gone. All the self doubts and the hurt, all the thoughts of what-if and the wish to travel back in time and never have you take his iPad. 

You stop at a red light and wipe away some more tears. You don’t dare to look into the mirror and check your make-up. 

Never finding the iPad, you circle back, if you had never found it, you wouldn’t be in this situation. No, you’d most likely still be in a relationship with a man that cheated on you. That didn’t love you half as much as he claimed, that didn’t deserve the time and care you’d given him. 

When the light turns green, you continue your way, your thoughts still roaming around the what if. And while your heart yearns for him back, for what you believed you had - your head knows it’s better this way. Jaehyun isn’t the one for you, as much as you would have loved him to be, Minghao is right. It’s just that the thought of starting over with someone new makes you cringe, makes fear rise within you. Someone new to give your heart to and hope they don’t break it the way Jae had. 

Once you’re on the highway you think back about the time you had decided to travel to Paris for your honeymoon. It had been your idea, your wish. Your first ever book, even if it never made it onto a bestseller list or into the mouths of the best romance critics - it was set in Paris. The city of live, the city you decided would become your favorite even though you had never been. Spending two weeks there with the love of your life after becoming his forever, seriously, nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that. 

Minghao’s words ring in your ear. Your person is still out there, he said. And that Paris, as the city of love, would be the perfect place to go look for them. Your knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. You never wanted to spend time in Paris with anyone but Jaehyun. 

Or maybe, you think as you take the exit leading to your neighborhood, the only Person you need to spend time with in Paris is yourself. 

two; the lost soul

He never should have listened to Jeonghan. No one should ever listen to Jeonghan. The cab driver is speaking in quick french that Jihoon knows he wouldn’t understand even if he spelled out every word for him. Then again, he isn’t even sure the driver is talking to him or just about him. Jihoon can’t really blame him. After all, he is the stupid American with the stupid big guitar case and a backpack almost bigger than himself. 

The backseat is hot and Jihoon’s sunglasses do little to keep the sun from blinding him. 

Paris in the summer sounded better on paper than it does actually experiencing it. It’s nothing compared to the summer in Arizona, where Jihoon grew up, but having lived in Vermont for a while now, he wasn’t used to the burning hot, scorching sun that threatened to give him the sunburn of his life if he didn’t re-apply his sunscreen every few hours. 

Tara had always laughed at him and his easily burned skin. She never burned, no, she got a tan right away, looking beautiful in the rays of sunshine dazzling on her skin like they belonged there. 

Right now, he misses her more than he has in a while. When he passes the beautiful architecture of his first love’s favorite city, he smiles even with the sun shining directly into his eyes. 

In all seriousness, Jihoon doesn’t know why he is here. It feels wrong to be here without her, but it also felt like he had to take the invitation from his friend. She would have never forgiven him, if he let this opportunity fly. Visit the city of love, the city she had always dreamt about, he knows as wrong as it feels, it’s the right thing to do. 

A few minutes later, the cab stops in front of an old looking building. Without saying anything, the driver takes Jihoon’s Euros and drives off after heaving Jihoon’s suitcase out of his trunk. 

Jihoon looks after the car, his dark hair falling into his forehead. Once the cab takes the next corner, he looks at the building, something stirring in his stomach. This… doesn’t look like the pictures on AirBnb at all. Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, happy he booked the data package at the airport back home. Opening his app, he feels like he’s about to throw up his airplane food.

It’s not there. The apartment is gone from the app, not newly put in under a different name, not just gone because of a glitch. It’s like it never existed. Jihoon curses, moving his fingers over his screen, calling the customer service only to be met with a french speaking automatic voice that doesn’t help him in the slightest. 

Hanging up again, he stares at his phone for a few seconds. He shouldn’t have come. It feels too much like a sign. Maybe he should try changing his flight to this evening, maybe he should try to run after that cab and-

The phone in his hands rings and he quickly picks up.

“Hello?”

“Jihoonie!” It’s Jeonghan, the only reason he is in Paris in the first place, “did you make it to the city of love?”

“Yeah, and I wish I didn’t,” Jihoon mumbles in response, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Why? What happened?” Jeonghan does sound concerned, which might be a first.

“My Airbnb doesn’t exist.”

Silence. Jihoon just knows his friend is trying his hardest not to laugh. Oh, to be Yoon Jeonghann and always get entertained by his friends’ miseries. 

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny, okay? I’m about to call another cab and get my ass back home.”

“No! No, you can’t go home! You’re here and I’m going to make sure these will be two of the most amazing weeks of your life, alright? Look, instead of home, get your ass to my hotel. I think I might have a solution for your problem.”

When Jeonghan texts him the address and Jihoon hails another cab, he doesn’t dare to hope that his friend has an actual solution. 

Perhaps Jihoon should have asked Jeonghan more thoroughly what kind of Hotel he works at. Because this looks very different to the building Jihoon just left. This is art, this is a fancy hotel in the middle of Paris’ most elegant streets, people in expensive clothes walking around Jihoon who has only a backpack and a guitar on his back. Jihoon gapes at the building, words he has read a million times suddenly filling his head, suddenly coming to life.

The façade of the hotel stands proudly on the bustling Parisian street, an exquisite testament to classical elegance and modern charm. The building’s cream-colored stonework is adorned with intricate carvings and ornate embellishments, each detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Above the entrance, a grand arch frames a large window, its glass shimmering in the soft light of the early evening.

Striped blue-and-white awnings shade the windows, their cheerful colors contrasting beautifully with the building’s stately architecture. Delicate wrought-iron balconies extend from the upper floors, offering glimpses of lush potted plants and inviting chairs, perfect for an intimate evening under the stars.

The entrance is framed by deep blue columns, and a passageway, warm light spills out from within, hinting at the luxurious interior that awaits guests. A pair of elegant lanterns flank the doorway, casting a gentle glow on the stone steps below.

Above the entrance, a crest adorned with elaborate scrollwork and a regal shield stands as a proud emblem of the hotel’s storied history. The name of the hotel is etched in graceful letters, a promise of the enchanting experience that lies within. 

He doesn’t dare to move from where he is standing. Doesn’t dare to step foot into the hotel that looks exactly the way he had envisioned the one Tara would always read to him. Goosebumps erupt all over his skin and he swears there are tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. This must be a dream, a different reality, because there is no way Jeonghan works here. 

But when Jihoon lets his eyes wander over the façade and into one of the magnificent windows - he spots his friend. Spots him on the phone behind the wooden counter, writing something down. He is here and this is real. 

So, Jihoon slowly moves. One foot before the other, eyes glued to the entrance, nis heart beating in his chest. He feels silly, but he wonders if Tara had seen this as clear as he had back when she had read the book to him over and over again. 

A welcome warmth meets Jihoon inside. It’s just as beautiful as the outside, he finds, his stomach turning over once more. 

The lobby exudes a warm, inviting glow, courtesy of the golden chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings, casting a soft light over the polished marble floors. Rich hues of deep blue and soft gold dominate the color palette, creating a sense of opulence and sophistication. Jeonghan stands behind the mahogany desk, still talking on the phone, still not spotting Jihoon. 

Jihoon, who feels so insanely out of place in his worn out jeans and the old leather jacket, with his hair unkempt and his eyebrow pierced. He moves over to the front desk, trying his hardest not to care about the stares he is getting from the people who clearly know he doesn’t actually belong here.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up when he sees him, a wide smile now on his lips as he holds up a finger as if to tell Jihoon to just be a little more patient. Jihoon carefully puts his hands on the top of the counter, his eyes roaming the lobby again. 

“Of course, we can’t wait to have you back here again so soon, Miss Jones. Have a great day, bye bye!” 

Jihoon’s eyes fly over to Jeonghan again when he hears the phone click. 

“You’re actually here!” Jeonghan’s smile grows and he moves forward to give Jihoon probably the most awkward hug of his life over the counter. Jihoon laughs at that, patting his friend on the back. 

“Well, it’s either this or the streets,” he smiles, “you never told me how… grant all of this is.” He gestures with his hands, as if to make sure Jeonghan knows he means the hotel. His blonde haired friend chuckles.

“Yeah, I thought it would come off like bragging if I did say so. I never would have heard the end of it from the boys.”

Jihoon nods. He knows exactly what Jeonghan means. Still. He can’t shake the feeling that if he had known about this… his stomach drops again.

“It’s beautiful.” Is all he eventually says, ignoring the worried look of his friend. Jihoon doesn’t know (and Jeonghan will never tell him) but there was a reason he had never mentioned this to him. 

“That, it is,” Jeonghan finally responds, wiping the worry off his face and replacing it with a broad smile, “and you will get to live here for the next two weeks!”

“I will what?!” Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise, “Jeonghan, I can barely pay rent at home, what do you-,”

“Obviously for free, dummy,” Jeonghan chuckles, “we have a free suite that has already been paid for, full price.”

Jihoon raises his brows, his hands feeling damp on top of the fancy counter.

“How come it’s free when it’s fully paid?” He asks.

“Well, there was supposed to be a wedding and…. now there isn’t one. They didn’t meet the requirements for the full or the partial refund. So, it’s free for the next two weeks since we can’t legally double book. You want it?”

It feels a little bit too good to be true, but Jihoon is in no place to turn down Jeonghan’s offer. The little voice in his head is trying to get to him, trying to make him speak the words to himself. It tries to get him to admit that this feels a lot like fate. Like a sign from above, from Tara. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s not ready for that, and he’s certainly not melancholic enough for thoughts like this - even as a songwriter. 

“I do, thank you, Han, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

“Oh, most certainly sleep on the streets. Find a rat for a friend, or maybe a pigeon. They are crazy over here,” Jeonghan sings as he types something in the computer, scanning one of the key cards he takes from the drawer beneath him. Jihoon watches him with his heartbeat in his ears. 

“Yeah, never been a big fan of rats. Or pigeons.” Jihoon dares to look around the lobby again, seeing all those people living their life, probably never worried about any of the things he worries about. He wasn’t lying when he said he has trouble paying his rent. Work hasn’t been easy these days. 

“Aaaaand, here we go!” Jeonghan grins brightly, “your key, Mr. Lee.” He holds it mid air, pulling it back slightly as Jihoon is trying to grab it. The latter gives him a funny look. Jeonghan pouts as he thinks.

“That rhymes. “Your key, Mr. Lee”.” Jihoon closes his eyes for a second. Jeonghan chuckles happily.

“Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Well, stop it and do yours instead,” Jihoon replies, allowing himself to grin back at his friend and take the card from his hands, “where is this suite you promised me?”

-

Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned what kind of suite this is. There is nothing Jihoon can do but stare at his surroundings with his mouth and backpack dropped, his guitar slowly sliding down his arm. 

He is in the honeymoon suite. In retrospect, it makes sense. Jeonghan did say a wedding had been canceled. 

There are three rooms. Right now, Jihoon is standing in the enormous entrance way. Golden and blue like downstairs, with wood accents, a big round table in the center of the room that connected all the different rooms, a centerpiece of flowers as beautiful as a summer day adjoining it. The walls are high and plastered with fine drawing, ornating through all of the hallway and over to the other rooms. Flowers and patterns so elegant Jihoon doesn’t know how to even describe them. 

He feels out of place as much as he feels content. Letting his luggage rest on the floor, he moves into the first room. It’s a large sitting room, probably as big as his whole apartment back at home. Two couches of rich dark blue; cushions in different colors, some of them reminding Jihoon of the ocean, some of the sky, rich blues and light blues, and then there is the color of dawn, orange and yellow. 

A majestic cremé colored carpet lays beneath the sofas, a glass table standing between them. On top of it magazine stacks and a glass tray holding what looks like whiskey and two glasses. High windows let the sun shine through and Jihoon spots a balcony leading around the living- and bedroom, holding his breath as he imagines himself out there softly strumming his guitar with a glass of whiskey or wine. His heart warms at the thought of finally having peace. Peace in the city his former lover had loved so much. 

Next up he walks into the bedroom, a king sized bed greets him with white linen covers and pillows almost as big as his torso. It looks incredibly comfortable and he couldn’t wait to lay down and relax after the day he’s had. Golden curtains sway in the wind let in by an opened window, and the view is so poetic he almost feels himself tear up. Quickly, he looks away and instead finds his way into the master bathroom. It’s all held in gold as well, gold and white for a change, an enormous tub next to a high rain shower behind a glass wall. He sighs.

This is perfect. And he most definitely needs a shower right now. 

So, he retraces his steps and grabs his luggage, setting everything down next to the bed and letting his guitar rest in the corner of the room. He decides to actually unpack his backpack that probably doesn’t even hold as much clothes as he probably needs for this trip (he did think he had a washer, though) and places everything in the large closet opposite the bed. 

Finding himself humming, Jihoon allows a little bit more of that earlier peace to find place in his head and heart. Perhaps there is no reason for him to be worried - to look for something to go terribly wrong on this trip. Jeonghan is off work by now, and they’ll go catch dinner together, then he’ll come back here and maybe watch a movie, fall asleep to the sound of Paris outside his window. He doesn’t know what it sounds like just yet, but he’s already excited to find out. 

Ridding himself of his clothes and feeling another threat of tears when he touches the towels hanging in the bathroom, Jihoon finally lets himself step into the shower and wash all of his worries away. 

three; the mix-up

You don’t think your heart has ever beaten as fast as it does when you walk out the Charles de Gaulle airport and right into the arms of the driver Minghao has arranged for you. It’s not about the driver or the airport - but where you are. 

Paris, the city of love, the city you feared to visit after what had happened with Jae. Yet, here you stand. Handing the driver your luggage and fishing for your phone in your purse, texting Minghao you already found your driver and are now on the way to the hotel. It all feels surreal and like you’re going to wake up any second.

Minghao forgave you without hesitation. Hugged you close to his chest and cried with you as you told him you were sorry and that he was right. You needed to do this - needed to face your demons. Together, the two of you had finalized the plans, popping open a bottle of expensive champagne and gossiping about Jaehyun and who he left you for. Little by little, you knew, you would find yourself again. And perhaps Paris was the perfect way to start. 

The drive from the airport to the hotel was spent staring out the window. First you saw the highway leading from the airport to the city - greenery with trees on each side, all passing by you in a blurr. And then the beautiful streets of Paris. The fine architecture, the elegant bridges over the Seine. Heart warming at the sight of the city you dreamt about so much. Your first ever book had taken place right here, you had let your main characters kiss for the first time right there on that bridge leading from one side of Paris to the other, so close to the Louvre, to the glass pyramid you made them fight and make up all the same, just months apart. The sun is dazzling onto the dark water of the river, light dancing on the surface. 

The driver comes to a stop in front of the hotel about 45 minutes after your departure from Charles de Gaulle. He holds open the door for you and helps you out of the car, smiling at you warmly and finally getting your bags out of the trunk. You thank him in some broken French and he nods at you before finding his way back to the driver’s seat. 

One of the bell-boys spot you right when you walk in, their English sounding a bit like your French just now. You thank them and hand over your luggage, letting them help you carry it to the mahogany reception.

It is exactly like you remember it. You had never seen it in person, no. But you’ve found this hotel during your research, falling in love with it right away. It was a no-brainer that your honeymoon was to be held here. 

You felt overwhelmed at the sight of the colors you had tried so hard to bring to paper, at the sound of soft music in the background, at the knowledge this was real and you were gonna stay here for two whole weeks. 

Finally, you reach the counter where a small man stands and smiles up at you, his hair styled back.

“Welcome, how can I help you?” He says in perfect English and you place your hands on top of the counter.

“Hi,” you tell him your name, “I have a reservation.”

The man nods, looking up the reservation and finding it right away. Not marked as checked in, he notes and gives you another big smile.

“It is wonderful to have you, Miss. Will your husband be joining you?” 

You expected as much. While it does hurt a little, having to say these next words, you know it’s a step in the right direction.

“I will be staying here alone, thank you.”

It is more beautiful than you could have imagined and it takes you a whole lot not to start crying. Your luggage gets brought up by the nice bell-boys and you thank them by tipping them each 50 Euros. Their smiles make the loss of the money worthwhile. 

Once the door closes behind them, you dare to look around. See the beautiful entrance way in all its glory. See the living room in all it’s elegance, the high ceiling and windows, the smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and a little reading nook, two ceiling high bookshelves standing around a comfortable looking loveseat. This must be what heaven looks like. 

There is nothing that can wipe that smile off your face. Everything inside you tingles with happy excitement, moving to go look at the master bedroom with the on-suite bathroom you remembered staring at for at least five minutes when you booked the room. Imagining yourself in the enormous bathtub with a glass of champagne and classical music playing, letting all the stress and hurt from the past months fade away with the notes. 

You don’t notice the closet and how there are clothes hanging inside it. Neither do you see the guitar case in the corner of the room. It fascinates you - how your mind tricks you into thinking you already hear the sound of water running, accompanied by humming along to a tune. Magnificent, what the mind can do. 

When you finally reach for the doorknob to push it down, yanking the door open in one swift move, you realize perhaps your mind isn’t as magnificent as you thought.

Jihoon doesn’t notice you until you scream. He swirls around, which is inherently a foolish thing to do inside a wet, slippery shower, his eyes widening whe spots you, reacting to your scream by screaming himself. He realizes he’s naked and tries to find something to cover him, taking a step forward to reach for the towel and forgetting there is literally a glass wall separating you two. 

Watching the man walk face-first into the glass and stumbling back, slipping on the wet floors and falling onto his ass would have made you laugh if it wasn’t inside your shower. 

“What the hell!” You yell, turning around so you don’t look at the naked man any longer.

“Who are you?!” He yells back and you almost gasp.

“I should ask you that!”

The two of you need to yell because Jihoon has not yet managed to turn the shower off. Only now does he (while rubbing his hurting back) get up, struggling in the process, his hand finding the lever to turn off the water. His nose hurts and his ass and his back. 

He moves out of the shower without running into glass this time, and wraps one of the soft towels around his waist. 

“I’m Jihoon,” he finally says. You think you’re suddenly stuck in a really bad movie.

“That- you’re telling me your name?!” You turn around again, staring at the stranger with disbelief in your eyes. 

“You did ask who I was, didn’t you?”

For a few moments the two of you continue to stare at each other. With every passing second you notice just how naked he is. Yes, there is a towel around him now, but you certainly did not… miss what was under there when you first walked in. As much as you don’t want to, your eyes scan the stranger, or well, Jihoon as he told you, stopping at his wet torso, the defined abs and the broad chest. He might be small in height but the rest of him seems… big. 

You swallow.

“If you’re done checking me out, would you mind telling me why you’re in my room?”

Heat spreads through your body and right into your face, your eyes jumping from his torso to his face.

“Your room? I’m sorry, this is my room!”

While Jihoon did hit his head, he isn’t hurt enough not to understand that you’re most likely telling the truth. But Jeonghan had said the wedding was off… that you wouldn’t come here. So, why on earth, where you here?

“I- I can explain,” he begins, taking a step forward only for you to take a step backward. He holds out his hand as if to signal he wasn’t going to do anything.

“Go right ahead,” you hate that your voice is shaking, but it’s not like it is an everyday occurrence you find a beautiful stranger in your hotel room. If this wasn’t your actual life but a book this might have been sexy, might have led to the bed behind you finding the two strangers entangled, giving in to the sexual tension between them. Not that there was any of that in this situation.

“My friend, Jeonghan, he- he works here. He told me this suite wouldn’t be used and so I- well he asked me if I wanted to stay here for my trip after I told him my airbnb didn’t actually exist and I needed a, uh, a place to stay.”

You blink at him.

“He just- he gave you my honeymoon suite for free?

Jihoon swallows.

“Well…,” he thinks a little longer on his answer, “yes. Yes, he did.”

Telling the truth is probably his best bet. 

You take a deep breath, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“As you can see, I am here. So, please, find somewhere else to stay.”

Jihoon saw it coming, obviously. It was all too good to be true. Without saying anything else, he walks over to the closet, ready to dress himself. Just that he didn’t quite calculate the new luggage now laying in front of the bed. 

It all seems to happen in slow motion.

Jihoon tripping over your suitcase, his hands desperate trying to find something to hold on to before he falls. As if on reflex, you grab his arm, yanking him up so he doesn’t fall flatly on his face, just that you somehow manage to yank him so hard, you fall off balance. With a high pitched squeak, you fall onto the bed, Jihoon landing on top of you, his towel falling off in the process of the fall and save. 

A naked man is on top of you, brown eyes wide with shock staring into yours. His hands somehow moved right to the sides of your head as if to catch himself from falling even further on top of you. 

You can feel him. Feel his breath on your face, his skin on yours, his friend against your thigh. More heat rises, your face, your neck, your chest, your core. It’s bad. This shouldn’t be happening right now. 

The two of you are so engulfed in the moment, you don’t even realize when the door opens yet again. When voices you would normally recognize without trouble seem to fail your ears this time. Jihoon’s face so close to yours - way too distracting.

“What the fuck?!” 

Realization hits you at the same time as recognition and you gasp, your knee coming up, right into Jihoon’s lower parts, a yelp escaping him as he slides off the bed, hands now covering his private area and his face in a grimace of sheer pain. 

You don’t even notice it. Not really, at least. Now it’s not his face that’s distracting you but the one you used to love for so many years.

“Jaehyun?” You whisper. And for a second you think he came here to make amends, to win you back, to get on his knees and apologize - then you spot her walking in, her eyes scanning the room with distaste. 

“Who is that?” Jaehyun asks and you feel your blood boil. 

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his question. He isn’t looking at you, but at Jihoon still on the floor. 

“Oh, well, you know. We thought that it would be such a waste to let this suite go to waste,” it is her who answers you now, her deep red manicured hands now curling around Jaehyun’s biceps. 

This bitch. Your blood starts boiling. Anger makes you see red. 

“You brought her here?” You hiss at Jaehyun who has the decency to look guilty at least. You snort. Then, your eyes find Jihoon who’s still on the ground, Jihoon who is still naked. Jihoon, who desperately needs a place to stay. 

God knows what makes you do what you do next. Desperation? Foolery? Who knows. But you move to help Jihoon up, grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his lower half. 

“Y/N,” Jaehyun starts but you interrupt him.

“I see that we both had the idea to bring our new partners, or in your case old partner, to the suite we booked together, Jae. But since I was the one who paid for it, I would kindly ask you to leave.”

New partner. Jihoon needs a few seconds before he grasps what you just said. 

“New- new what?” He mumbles, but you clear your throat to drown out his voice. Jaehyun’s face is priceless and you don’t want the bluff to be uncovered so quickly.

“That is your new boyfriend?” She asks, her brows raised. You can see that she’s checking him out - his abs, his cest, his pretty face. It makes your insides turn with hatred and disgust. 

“Got a problem, Sierra?” You reply, your jaw tense. Her eyes only briefly meet yours.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m glad to see you finally got out of that moping phase, honey. It really didn’t suit you.” 

Your grip around the towel tightens. 

Slowly, Jihoon begins to understand what is going on. Who these people are. There was supposed to be a wedding and a honeymoon, but neither of these happened. You are the bride, or well, were supposed to be the bride. And he, the man you called Jaehyun and who had caused all the color to fade from your face, surely seems to be the groom who… never got to be the groom. And judging by the way you reacted to him and her, he guesses the reason the wedding didn’t happen was… the woman you’d called Sierra. 

Blinking a few times, Jihoon realized that you were trying to convince him that he was your new boyfriend. That you had brought him here, to this hotel. It was ridiculous and straight out of a bad movie, but somehow… even if he didn’t know you, he felt like he should help you. And so, he let his arm wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise. 

“I would kindly ask you to leave us be. You have done enough.”

Your head swirled to look at the man next to you. His stern face and his wet hair. Drops of water sliding down the side of his neck. 

“How long has this been going on?” Jaehyun asks, ignoring Jihoon’s request. You turn to look at him again.

“That’s none of your business. You heard him, Jae. Leave. This isn’t your room anymore.”

Another beat of silence falls between the four of you. You try your best to ignore Sierra and cling onto Jihoon’s hand like it was the only saving grace. Perhaps that was true. Holding Jae’s gaze and trying to calm down your hurting heart, your wishes to throw something at him. 

“Fine. I heard the honeymoon suite in the Hilton is much nicer than this one, baby.”

It is then that you see it. The rings on her finger. Your stomach drops. He married her. Oh, you’re about to throw up. Jihoon seems to notice your change of emotions, quickly clearing his throat.

“Great. Have fun in Paris then.” 

He carefully takes the towel from your hand, wrapping it around him fully again. Then, he looks at you. The overwhelming urge to give you a hug is almost unbearable.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, “since we are both seeing other people and have moved on - we could grab dinner sometime this week. All of us.”

Jihoon sees the way your eyes shake at the suggestion. And he is just about to say no, that that’s not a good idea, when you push your shoulder back and hold your head high.

“What a lovely idea. We’d love to, isn’t that right, baby?” You interlock your fingers with Jihoon’s and he stares at you for just a second, before nodding.

“Sure,” he breathes out, looking at Jaehyun and Sierra. 

It most certainly isn’t a lovely idea, he is well aware of that. This whole thing isn’t a good idea. But here he is. Holding the hand of a woman he barely met twenty minutes ago. A woman who has seen him naked, a woman who had his half hard cock against the inside of her thigh. A woman he had been closer to than any other in the last five years. 

No, this wasn’t a good idea. This was an awful, horrible idea that could only go so, so wrong. 

[yangkitties]

fall for me ✩ l.hs

pairing: lee heeseung x gn!reader || word count: 0.9k genre: fluff || warnings: blood mention (non-descriptive), swearing synopsis: and so you fell, literally and figuratively. all thanks to lee heeseung. note: we are back in business bae 💪 this ones a bit of an oldie but i like it + i've been in my hee feels off late >.< anyways i hope y'all enjoy reading it and as always, my ask box is open :]

'Hee. Do we HAVE to do this. You know what happened the last time don’t you!?' You pouted as you held hands with Heeseung, who just reassuringly chuckled at you instead of answering your question. You gently bumped into your best friend, indicating that you didn’t want your question to go unanswered. 

'And by ‘the last time’, do you mean in 4th grade when I specifically told you that I wouldn’t be able to skateboard alongside you but you STILL trusted me and tried to skateboard anyway? And then you ended up falling on your sorry butt?' He teased you, earning him a raspberry blown in his face. 

But you did trust him. You trusted him with your entire life right now, just like you did 7 years ago. You had been best friends with Lee Heeseung practically since forever. You trusted him with anything and everything. 

Except for one fact. That fact that you were irreversibly in love with him. 

As you both continued your way to the skate park, you wondered what would happen if you told him. But you didn’t have time for those thoughts when Heeseung tugged your head back to reality with a squeeze of your hand.

'Hey. I won’t let what happened the last time happen again okay? I’ve gotten so much better! You trust me, don’t you?' His bambi eyes sparkled as he puffed out his chest slightly, knowing it would make you laugh. You giggled, falling right into his tricks. 'Of course I do. Now let’s get skating!!!!'

Soon, you had mastered getting on the skateboard without falling off. Slowly, you learnt how to travel a a short distance without completely face planting on to the concrete. The catch was that you still couldn’t do it if you weren’t holding Heeseung’s hands. And holding his hands made you extra nervous. 

You’d held his hands multiple times. And they always made you felt like you were floating on a cloud. They had always fit right into your hands, no matter how old you grew. 

'Okay I think I can do it without holding your hands now.' You said as confidence crawled through you. 'You sure? Because if you fall, don’t yell at me..’ Heeseung was holding both your hands, rubbing thumbs over your knuckles. Just the little action sent a million shivers down your spine. 

You took a deep breath, 'Yeah. I know if I fall you’ll catch me.' You smiled at him convincingly and started to skate. 

You went an inch. 2 inches. 10 inches. An entire 2 feet. Heeseung jogged behind you the entire time, arms out awkwardly waiting to catch you. 'HEE!!! LOOK!!! I’m doing it!!!!' You yelled, giggling at your small victory. 

And then it happened. The board bumped into a small rock, and it sent you flying backwards. 

You closed your eyes, expecting the hard ground to hit you, to experience cold blood slip out of the back of your head. But it never came…

Instead you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. You opened your eyes, one at a time, only to be met with Heeseung’s deep brown ones, shining with worry. 

You scrambled off the skateboard and tightly hugged Heeseung’s waist, attempting to ground yourself. Heeseung gently strokes your hair, resting his hands on your hips. 

'So… I guess you fell for me huh?' Heeseung joked, trying to lighten the mood. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you said the first thing that came to your mind. 'Yeah. I did.'

Heeseung froze. His hands stopped stroking your hair and his grip on your waist tightened. 'I… what did you say?'

'I said yes. I fell for you. I fell for your stupid smile, and your angelic voice, and your bambi eyes, and your soft laugh. I fell for you 3 years ago, when we watched The Little Mermaid and you sang your heart out to ‘Under the Sea’, and I knew then, that I never wanted to leave you. And I fell for you again, a year ago when you let ME decorate your precious skateboard that you don’t let anyone touch. I really really REALLY love you but I don’t want to loose you as a best friend. So tell me right now if you don’t love me back so I can hit you over your the head with the skateboard so you can forget this ever happened.' You spoke in one breath, words muffled as you still had your forehead pressed to Heeseung’s chest. 

And then you felt vibrations across your head. He was laughing. You had just poured your heart out and he stood their, you in his arms, and he had the audacity to laugh.

Just as you were about to pull away and hit his head with the skateboard, Heeseung hugged you tighter. 'I’m not as good as you when it comes to confessions, but I love you too. You really think I would’ve let you decorate my skateboard if I didn’t love you, did you?'

He pulled you away from his chest, fingers curled beneath your chin. 'Can I kiss you?' His forehead rested against your while getting breathed out the 4 words you had dreamed about hearing countless times. 

You wasted no time, quickly pressing your lips against. Just like your hands, they fit like puzzle pieces. Your fingers entwined themselves behind his neck as he pushed you down, deepening the kiss. They trailed up to his pretty pink hair, gently pulling at it to push him back up, noses bumping against each other. 

You pulled apart, breathless.

'I fucking love you.' 

©️ yangkitties 2023 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost 

[spaceorphan18]

Imagine my surprise hearing a familiar voice on this week's podcast!!!! Congratulations to you!! How did you get that call?!?

Hi Teach!!

Yay, thank you!

Okay, so here's the story --

Three-ish weeks ago, I get a somewhat random message from one of the Scarves and Coffee moderators if I'd be interesting talking to the producer of the podcast. I was kind of -- huh?? The Mod in question, who is a lovely person, doesn't follow me, nor do I know them, so I kind of thought it was a joke at first.

But being curious, I said okay - and she sent the producer my email. The producer replied almost immediately. And, ngl, I was in shock, because I didn't expect to get a reply at all. (Honestly, I think with the strike dragging out as log as it did, they were beginning to get desperate for content. And, idk, maybe Kevin's interest in fanfiction pushed them onto doing it? I have no idea.)

Anyway - we traded a few emails, and then the producer asked if she could call. Ngl, I googled her just to make sure this wasn't a prank. Sure enough - she seemed legit, so I gave her my phone call.

The producer of the show was actually really nice. She was/is a Glee fan, (and probably more in the know than Kevin and Jenna on somethings from what I could tell by our convo.) She asked some basics - like what was my relationship with the show, how/when did I start writing fanfic, those kinds of things.

Interestingly, and in case you're wondering why this happened, I mentioned to her that I wanted to remain somewhat anonymous. Something she didn't know (and obviously K and J didn't either) is that there are legal issues concerning fanfic. Thirty years ago, Anne Rice sued every single fanfic writer she could find. Now, I know things are better, and copyright stuff has changed, but I'm not a lawyer, and I didn't want to take that chance - so I asked if we could only use my name, and I did not give her my social media handles.

The other reason for that, though? I still am one of those people who like to keep their real life and fandom life a little separate. I know all of you guys know a great deal about me, but I'm not ready for Kevin and Jenna's 55 million followers to descend down on me. Nor do I really want them (or other people in my personal life) to know about what's on this blog/or my fanfiction. Also, maybe feeling a little guilty, I have been somewhat critical of the podcast (though I've always tried to maintain resect for K and J) and I really didn't want the producer digging into that, either.

She was super nice about everything though, and we worked it out that no one would see my face, nor would my last name or social media stuff be shared.

Also, interestingly, within that convo -- I learned that Kevin and Jenna still don't feel like people really like them all that much, and were really moved when people sent in voicemails about the podcast. I was also asked not to ask questions about the show -- because they don't remember anything, but I could ask other questions, because they love answering them.

I did have a few questions - but I never had them answered. The interview went by so quickly, and they moved from question to question so quickly that I never got to ask.

She also mentioned they had just finished The First Time podcast. Not really helping myself, I let her know Kurt was my favorite character, and that TFT was one of my favorites. And I said I had hoped they liked it. The producer paused a bit before replying -- stating that they had warmed to the episode as they talked (kind of like Born This Way) but I would like the episode. (Sure, Jan...)

Another thing she said was that the woman who had just aired, the one who stopped watching during season 3, had a lot of negative attention because she didn't watch the show after season 3. She was really grateful that I had watched the whole series and was still active in fandom. Plus, she loved that I run a bookstore.

Anyway - she basically asked if I was available in two days to record (!!!). Luckily I could (and even if I couldn't - I am the boss and could rearrange). I'm guessing not many other people could do the middle of the day on Wednesdays, so I was chosen.

They already had the other two guests ready to go -- and no, I don't know either of them. It's interesting that they even wanted a third person. And this whole thing is really a lot of really dumb luck.

So, two days later, after a lot of thinking, and one zoom meeting with @snarkyhag to make sure my computer worked properly, I was on the call with Kevin and Jenna. Crazy, right??

Honestly - I really was just at the right place at the right time, grateful that someone reached out to me, and that the producer was really desperate for guests, because I don't think the opportunity would have ever come otherwise.

I'll talk a little more about the actual interview in another ask.

Glad you liked it, Teach! <3

[elytrafemme]

hi, mare!!!! i have no idea if u remember me, lmao, i sent an ask back in february i think! (also i am so incredibly sorry for sending this in general but… anyway…)

but, i just wanted to say that you write so incredibly beautifully i actually cannot. i was just like, pacing around in my kitchen doing my maladaptive daydreaming shit when cough syrup came into my mind . specifically that one scene from chapter 28, when cs!ranboo says the sunset is pretty and cs!tubbo tells him he’s also pretty. and i genuinely teared up. that scene is always in the back of my mind it’s so insane. i think it might be something ill think about for a long time, even though i read it for the first time so long ago. i think it’s mainly the way you wrote it. “beside him, the sun says, “so are you.””

something about that like genuinely drives me insane (in a good way, i promise!). i just. it is so small and niche and mundane and probably shouldn’t matter this much but i am crying over it. and i am far from a crier, so if you’ve gotten me to cry over a single sentence you’ve done something incredibly right.

i don’t know if you’ve heard it a million times, or not at all, but you seriously have a way with writing. just so you know! because you definitely have to know!!!!

anyway… sorry for sending a cs ask, (also that it was very long) but!

thank you, once again, for writing this amazing piece. even if it never gets updated again, it’ll always be in my heart, i guarantee it lmao

have a good day/night/afternoon <3 (and to anyone reading this)

hi there! i thought i recognized your url somehow, it's nice of you to stop by again! i'm really terrible with answering asks but honestly you are always welcome in my askbox, i like to visualize it as a cosy space

this is such an incredibly meaningful ask to me, my God. i'm so unspeakably glad that you liked that scene and the fact that it stuck with you this long really makes my entire week, honestly. it was a scene i poured a lot of heart into, as i did those two characters in general, and i'm really really grateful that it was received in such a caring way. thank you for giving that scene space in your heart.

i really really appreciate it, thank you. i've been struggling with prose writing lately so hearing that my writing can stick with people means a lot to me. cough syrup feels sacred, like an untouchable thing i've created that i now can't touch after so long of being estranged from its writing, but hearing kind words makes me feel like i can touch it again.

it's a fic i intend to finish, though i realized a few weeks ago it may take me several years to. i've sadly lost all love for that segment of content that became its source- -with no judgement to those who appreciate it, it's just no longer part of my heart (aside from my friends' artistic creations) but cough syrup is still meaningful to me. and honestly hearing that it is still thought fondly of even in 2024 is like earthshatteringly incredible. just a bit ago i remember freaking out over whether cough syrup meant anything and honestly, your kind words reminded me that it does, and it did. and the reason it mattered so much was because of the people like you who appreciated it.

so seriously, thank you. always feel free to send me cs asks -- again, i don't respond very timely but i always will see them. i appreciate you, and i hope you like the next upload, whenever it arrives.

have a delightful day/night/afternoon as well <3

[martinezmicah]

20221201 | Year-End Beginnings

Content warning: This post contains topics involving mental health and sexual assault.

It’s never too late to start anew this year. I guess?

It's kind of weird that this seemed like a short year yet a lot of things happened. It was a year of fruitfulness, kind of.

I got my first job as an online data entry contributor and researcher. It was a remote job, and I am good at it. However, i felt like I wanted to try having a job in government research or the food industry. Of course I applied for jobs. I had multiple interviews. I never really got rejection letters but having no updates on the application just meant they didn't push through with me.

I really wish they still sent out letters to all who applied, and for people like me who has been through multiple screenings, I wish they had an honest feedback about my application and credentials.

I did become a Project Assistant for a technology business incubator at a state university in March. These kinds of jobs are on a contract basis and we were not exactly employees of the university. I had the job for around 3 months. I didn't renew my contract. I felt my mental health declining before I decided to hand in my resignation. I don't think it was really a resignation since my contract was up anyway.

I went back home and kept my data entry job. I was being paid a bit higher here anyways and when I'm at home, I wouldn't have to worry about rent, food, and transportation.

My work schedule is also a flexible, so I can do some extra work when I still have extra time during the week.

At the end of July, I joined the 13th National Youth Parliament. I was one of the delegates from our city, as being the Secretary General of the first youth parliament. I made new friends whom I still keep in touch with until now.

In August, just a few days after the NYP, I also participated in the ASEAN Youth Forum's SEAYouth Festival 2022. It was a fun learning experience and it was just amazing hearing from different youth leaders across ASEAN. I was also surprised when I was awarded Best Delegate from the Philippines for my participation, granted I wasn't able to join through speaking since I was also volunteering then, but I did type in my suggestions and proposals in chat and through email. It was a really awesome experience and it's just inspiring how these different voices from different nations are coming together for the betterment of the ASEAN Youth.

I have been working productively on my job, but I was still having doubts about my abilities. I also felt like I am not doing enough when my peers are going on 5-year work anniversaries or going abroad for graduate studies and such.

I have been volunteering at church more. I found a sense of belongingness there. They know what I have been through, my depression and anxiety, how I had to go to counseling and drink my meds. Some of them know how I was sexually assaulted by someone I used to trust when I was in college.

And yet, despite these, I didn't hear any judgment from them. They helped me recover. They made me feel welcome and warm and fuzzy. They celebrate with me even in small wins. They cry with me when appropriate.

I have been active in the music ministry again. I even shared my story to the youth leaders in a university last November. Oh, right! I also turned 26 last November.

Among other things, I wished for a lifetime partner on my birthday. I have had feelings for this person and I am still actively praying for him. But I need to guard my heart, more so now that I hear he's also ready to pursue someone. It's just, I know I should have said something then, but I didn't wanna sound needy or too upfront.

I am still gonna pray for a beautiful love story. One that I won't be afraid to show the world. One that I can write over and over and still not get tired after a million years.

But I do hope it's you. I pray to God that it would be you.

It's the last month of the year. A while ago, I went to the Worship Night at church. I led the worship. I led a prayer for the campus ministry. Oh, right, I am going to lead the group for our scholars at Real Life and I am excited to be meeting them this weekend again for our first official mentoring session. I was thinking of sharing my college testimony as well.

Anyway, tonight we just decided to go have dinner at McDonald's rather than go home earlier. After the meal, we played a bunch of mobile table top games, ending it with the classic Chain Reaction game. I didn't win, but it was fun. We shared a tricycle home, and it took us around 30 minutes to actually go home since we lived in different parts of the city but we had to ask the driver to start with the person who lived the farthest from the city proper.

It was a lot of fun, even though it took some time away from what was supposed to be my work time. But it's fine. I still have the rest of the weekend to do the work.

It's getting late. I'm sure by this time, you're probably sleeping peacefully. You have an early morning tomorrow.

I hope I see you on the weekends.

[comfortbucky]

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Found

Summary: Dave and you had been friends for 20 years. You watched him get married to another woman and become a Dad, ignoring the constant heartbreak it was causing you cause you were in love with him. Four months after his death you receive a postcard with cordinates. What would you find?

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings: Angst with a little Fluff

A/N: This was meant to be completely different but here we are. Another writer wednesday <3 @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape

follow my library account @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified when I post a new fic

You were doing this. You were really doing this. Why were you doing this?

Shaking your head you killed the engine of your car and breathed in deep.

You are doing this because there’s only one person who could have send the postcard

You also knew that the person who you thought had sent you the postcard was pronounced dead a little over four months ago and that he would tell you that you’re stupid for driving hours to a lone cabin in the woods without any kind of weapon to defend yourself. You attended his funeral. You watched his wife and daughters grieve for him. You were there when his will was read. You helped Carol and the kids pack the whole house as they moved across the country. You might have stolen one of his shirts just to have something of him for yourself.

You had to give your best acting job to not break completely down when you got the news that Dave York died. The circumstances under which he died were classified. Even for you, which shouldn’t be surprising. He had told you he had to take care of someone. Only texting you a “See you next week, then we can talk” before he went silent. You didn’t think much of it. Having often received messages like this in the past from him.

You and Dave York weren’t a couple.

You were in love with him anyways.

But you never acted on it. You were friends, as close as it could get. Having started out together at the academy you knew each other for almost 20 years. You were friends, best friends if you would use the term. He was there for you when your parents died. He was the only constant person in your life. Maybe that was the reason you didn’t walk away when he told you he met this woman he wanted to marry. It broke your heart as you attended the wedding, watching him marry another woman. Yet you were happy for him. He deserved to be happy.

But you did too.

You grew to live with the constant heartbreak, finding yourself unable to move on from him. You weren’t strong enough to move on, to find someone new, so you stayed.

Years and years you watched him become a husband, then a father until he told you one day that he thinks that he might have made a mistake all these years back. That maybe he only got married because Carol had been pregnant already and it was the right thing to do.

He had looked at you, utterly defeated, confessing that he hadn’t been happy in a long time and that he knew how much pain he had caused you.

He knew. Of course he knew about your feelings for him. He had known all along.

Yet you never had found the time to talk more about it. Because 10 days after this conversation he was dead.

Which you made peace with until yesterday when you received a postcard from your not existing brother being sorry for not being in touch for so long. You recognized the numbers under your name as coordinates.

The only time you received a postcard from your brother before was when Dave had to go silent for months and he wanted to let you know that he’s okay.

And this was how you found yourself here. Sitting in your car in a driveway of a cabin in the woods. It wouldn’t be so creepy if it wasn’t just before sunrise and foggy like straight out of a horror movie.

You could see the light on inside and it wasn’t long before you saw the door being opened and someone stepping out.

Deep down a part of you knew. It sounded weird, but you could feel that he was still alive. Yet you didn’t let yourself believe. Because you couldn’t take the disappointment if he never showed up again.

But there he was.

Dave York in the flesh. Standing on the porch of the small cabin in the woods in nothing more than sweatpants and a white shirt. Your vision got blurry, as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. You had imagined this moment in your dreams. Dreams where Dave was alive and happy. And you were with him.

You closed your eyes before you opened the door and got out of the car.

It was cold outside. The forecast warned of a blizzard which is why you packed a little bag, not knowing what would wait for you once you followed the coordinates.

Pulling your coat closer around yourself, you slowly walked towards the cabin. The closer you got, the calmer you felt. It was him. It really was. He looked like you remembered him.

Almost.

You could see a big scar where once his eye was, hidden by a big black patch. You walked up the stairs, your eyes still fixed on the man waiting. You stopped in front of him and suddenly everything felt into place. The familiar yet unique smell you once described as a perfect winter morning hitting your nose, you had grown to love whenever Dave was around.

He just stood there as if the last months hadn’t happened. You felt a million different things, frozen to the spot for what felt like hours.

“I hope you would make…” he began to speak. You stopped him, throwing your arms around him and pressing your lips to his, kissing him like you had imagined so many times before, just once, not caring for the consequences. There was this moment you were scared he would push you away when he didn’t respond. It only lasted a second before you felt his strong arms pulling you closer and his lips moving against yours. You parted your lips for him, wanting to feel him closer. So much closer, moaning softly when you felt his tongue dance with yours. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold breeze as you melted against him. Parting from your lips he rested his forehead against yours, breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you both whispered at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you continued and saw him look at you confused.

“You’re married… I shouldn’t… But I missed you Dave, so fucking much. I…”

“I’m dead. Dave York doesn’t exist anymore.”

“But your wife and kids…”

“My wife is already dating someone new and my kids… they are happy. That’s what’s most important.”

“And you?”

“I want to be happy too,” he whispered before he kissed you again.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:23 am]

One would think that after a relationship as long as yours, 4 years of dating and 2- almost 3 years of marriage, that there would only be little things left to learn about each other. Like waking up earlier than your husband, Kun, and discovering that he sleeps with one leg hanging off the bed or that he regularly goes through his texts and manually deletes conversations that happened more than two months ago. But there are also things in this time that should just be known due to how long you’ve been together. Like Kun knows that you you have to wet your toothbrush twice before brushing your teeth and Kun has made it clear to you that you do not make anything, tea or ramen or anything else, unless the water is boiling nearly over the pot.

Then are things like this, that he chooses to ignore even when you remind him almost weekly. You had sent him a simple text, asking him to simply reply with anything that he may have forgotten to add to the grocery list because you were on your way there. Upon walking into the store with your cart and list in hand, ready to tackle this and get back home, your phone rang. Of course, a call from Kun. 

A simple, day-to-day conversation, greetings, polite formalities and then, “I think I added everything I needed on the list.” This man.

You sighed, shaking off the mild annoyance of the call, something that could have so easily been handled with a ‘Can’t think of anything else’ text. 

Later, when you got home and had time to clean up around the house a little more and put the groceries away, your mind wandered back to Kun, who was going to be working all day. You of course know that he has the horrible habit of focusing too much on the work and neglecting himself. You send him a text asking him what he wants for lunch, knowing that even if he sees it in a few hours, he’ll at least still be eating lunch before he comes home later in the evening. 

You send him a text, as to not interrupt any work he has going on, asking him what he feels like eating so you can take it to him when he’s ready. 

Twenty minutes later your phone starts vibrating much more than it would from any text or notification, this would mean that your lovely husband is calling. It sounds like he’s panting a bit, they must be learning a new dance today, as he answers, “I really want some Thai food from that place we got a few weeks ago, whatever you get is fine with me.”

Then the loud and chaotic voices of his members all asking if you could bring them food and their own orders. “Tell them to text, and I mean text me their orders. I don’t want a million separate calls.”

“Of course, I love you. See you soon.” Kun replies. Within a minute you have every order texted to you, minus of course your husband’s.

Walking into the building, you make your way up to their dance studio with arms filled with bags of food. “I’m here!” You call out when you finally see them. 

They crowd around you, arms reaching for the food and thanking you. Kun wraps an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple and thanks you quietly. He leads you away from the rest of the guys who are bickering over a plate of rice and some napkins. You both settle down on the floor, leaning against the wall while you share the dishes in front of you. You make conversation while you ask each other about your days. 

You chuckle before you once again bring up, “You know every time you called me today could have been answered with quick text.”

“But isn’t it just more to the point with a call?” He replies.

“Nothing you called me about needed to be explained, a simple text would have been fine. Like, if you had just right off the bat told me you wanted Thai, then I wouldn’t have had to hear them yelling their food orders right in my ear. It was so much easier with a text. Plus, you know I hate making calls.”

“Texting just seems so insincere. If I call you then I can hear you and see what mood you’re in and I can tell if sound tired or sick.”

“You say that every time, and we see each other every morning so you know if I’m tired or sick anyway. I understand when you go on tour or do promotions but we even had breakfast together this morning, you know how I am today. I don’t want you getting sick of me already.” You reply.

Kun looks almost offended before he responds, “I could never get sick of you, why would you say that? We’re stuck with each other forever. I call you because I love hearing your voice and I love you.”

You soften immediately, reaching your hand out to grab his own. He was just so romantic and lovely sometimes, he’s amazing. “I can’t even stay mad at you even when you know I hate talking on the phone. Almost 7 years and your sweet talking still works on me.” 

“You guys are disgusting.”

“Yeah, if my husband called me instead of texting me back, I’d get a divorce.”

“Seriously, how are you not sick of him?”

“Would you guys shut up? Didn’t you just get free food? Must you complain about everything?” You and Kun angrily respond.

“They remind me of my parents.”

Kun sighs, “Please don’t start that again.”

-

A/N: I got this from a prompt generator! I hope you enjoyed!

[books-and-catears]

Im actually unsure if ive sent a request already (if i did im sorry i have1 terrible memory T-T;;)

But if not would it be okay to request for an GN! MC who the brothers realize was a big idol back in the human world but they never said that to them? Like maybe they found through magazines or internet or smth?

Hope this is okay and have a good day!!

Awww honey don't apologize! Also thank you so much for the request! You have an amazing day too!

This is such a interesting and hilarious ask!This is going to be super fun to write hehehe :3

(Oh and just a general fact for anyone who comes across my blog I try to always make my MC gender neutral unless a specific gender is requested.)

Lucifer

Lucifer: For some reason there have been a lot of attempts to summon me from the human realm.

MC: Oh? That really works?

Lucifer: Well not always but we occasionally they get it right. But that's the not the issue here.

MC: Oh did they ask for something weird?

Lucifer: I got 22 summons. 18 of them had your name in their demands. And I checked their identities, they are not related to you, in any way. Mind explaining what's going on?

MC: *embarassed* I was slightly drunk on stage one day and might have told the people as a joke that if I ever went missing, they could try asking the devil for me.

Lucifer: Your people? Do you have cult up there?

MC: Well cult is a strong word. Fanbase is the more commonly used term...

Lucifer: How many people?

MC: Um...

Lucifer: How many more times will I be summoned MC?

MC: Um a few million times?

Lucifer: *exasperated dad noises*

Mammon

Mammon: MC what is net worth?

MC: Eh I'm not sure but maybe sum of assets or something

Mammon: YOU HAVE 20 MILLION WORTH OF ASSETS?

MC: Ah well I don't really accept it as mine cause there's a lot of people involved so I signed it over to my parents anyway.

Mammon: BUT HOW DO YOU HAVE THE ASSETS?

MC: 5 years worth of good record and merch sells are enough for it suppose?

Mammon: Records...MC you were a famous singer in the human world?!

MC: Ah well idol is what they called us. We had to dance a lot too.

Mammon: HOW COME NONE OF US KNEW THIS?! MC THIS IS HUGE WE CAN EVEN MARKET YOUR SKILLS HERE AND WE WILL BE RICH!

MC: *sigh*....this is why none of you knew.

Leviathan

Levi: MC can I tell you something strange?

MC: How strange are we talking?

Levi: Like when I saw you for the first time, you looked awfully familiar.

MC: Ah do I resemble some character you like?

Levi: An idol actually. There was this human world group that was a big hit for five years! But then they disbanded two years ago. You look like my favourite one. *Pointing to old poster*

MC: *looks at themself in ridiculous blue hair* Ahahhaa thanks Levi although I gotta admit that is my least favourite look.

Levi: You even have the same name as them it's almost uncanny- wait. Did you say 'MY least favourite look'?

MC: Guilty as charged....

Levi: YOU'RE ACTUALLY MC! THE MC! THE IDOL MC! *falls on the ground*

MC: Levi you okay?! Calm down it's-

Levi: MC IS IN MY ROOM!? MC IS SITTING NEXT TO ME?! MC IS LIVING IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME!? MC GOES TO MY SCHOOL!? MC IS MY BEST FRIEND?!

MC: Yes Levi...Yes to all of them now calm down please! You're going to have heart attack!

Satan

Satan: MC come here for a minute would you?

MC: Yes, Satan?

Satan: So I tried to procure some human world magazines for Asmo and ended up going through them myself and *flips to a page and pointing towards an old picture of you* by any chance is this you?

MC: Haha didn't expect you to recognize me with that get up.

Satan: So when were you going to tell us you're about your fame in the human world?

MC: Does it even matter? It has been two years since I've last been on stage I'm sure people have forgotten now.

Satan: The recent article disagrees. *Reads from magazine* "MC hasn't been active in any of their social media accounts recently. While they did tend to go on long breaks of inactivity, this hiatus has been stretching for 5 months. They haven't even appeared in any of their fellow member's pictures either. An interview with one of the members said, 'They haven't even been answering texts nor calls. Their parents tell us they've gone away for a while but won't tell us where."

MC: Jesus I leave for six months and they make a whole mystery novel about me.

Satan: Well it's rather fun to keep the people on their toes. I can think of ways to fuel this fire.

MC: Satan no-

Asmodeus

Asmo: *comes running into your room* MC! How could you not tell me!?

MC: Eh? Tell you what?

Asmo: That you had a partner in the human world already?! And that you both are a FAMOUS POWER COUPLE!?

MC: Eh? Who said I was-

Asmo: Don't you lie to me! *holds up an edit playing on his phone* Look at these two people under the same umbrella! You're the one holding it aren't you!? Who are they MC? Do you love them more than me?!

MC: *sigh* No Asmo, they're just a friend who liked to screw with the paparazzi. And the paparazzi was over eager with us cause a lot of people loved shipping us.

Asmo: And why were you shipped with them?! I'm clearly a better match!

MC: *scratches head* Ah probably I used to pull too many pranks with them on stage and we were given a lot of duets and dances together.

Asmo: Stage? Duets? Dances? MC ...were you an IDOL?!

MC: ....yes?

Asmo: *squealing* WAIT TILL I MAKE YOU BECOME AN IDOL HERE TOO ALONG WITH ME SO PEOPLE WILL SHIP US INSTEAD!

Beelzebub

Beel: MC I heard from the others that you used to be a famous idol.

MC: Ah they told you too? Atleast your reaction is much calmer.

Beel: I heard famous people get lots of gifts from fans! Including snacks and candy!

MC: Haha we did. Only we weren't allowed to eat them.

Beel: ...but it's your gift. Of course you're allowed to eat them?!

MC: *sigh* Being in a idol group meant having to maintain your looks at all times. And weight was a big issue. I remember during tours we only had to live off apples, cucumbers and pea soup for a week.

Beel: That doesn't sound nice at all. *sad Beel noises* Here MC. *gives you half his sandwich* You can eat as much as you like here!

MC: Thank you so much, Beel.

Belphegor

Belphie: Did you get enough sleep being an idol and all? Beel told me you used to be one.

MC: Between late night practices and early morning workouts? I managed on three hours of sleep.

Belphie: That's less than half the ideal amount for humans.

MC: Ah well all of us needed to be perfect with the performance or we'd be screamed at or worse suspended.

Belphie: Performance for people who only need to see your face to start screaming. So much wasted energy. It's good that you left. Adoration from a bunch of strangers isn't worth losing sleep.

MC: I know right? It is nice to have a lot of people love you maybe but if I can't even be awake enough to appreciate them... what's the point?

Belphie: Come here. *wraps you up in his blanket* I help you catch up on the years of sleep you've missed.

MC; Thanks, Belphie.

[13uswntimagines]

Our Song (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Request: alyssa naehex reader thats set during quarantine w/ “Shy” by Alexander Stewart. I just kind of think it’s cute since she’s an introvert and that it would be fitting

Author’s Note: Speical Thanks To @literaryhedgehog​

Alyssa knew she should just say it, that admitting it out loud would finally put an end to this madness. She ran a soothing hand through your hair when you sniffled loudly into her chest. 

God, she should just tell you how she felt. But, she also didn’t want to overstep. That would make being roommates really awkward. Especially since neither of you were supposed to leave the apartment right now except for essential purchases. And she didn’t want to lose her best friend. That would really suck. 

But she wasn’t afraid to say what no one else would- you had a terrible taste when it came to partners. You chose people who didn’t value you, and you always ended up hurt. 

This time was no different, well, it was slightly different considering you couldn’t leave your shared apartment to cope like you normally would. Alyssa didn’t know if that was better or worse, considering that you had adapted your breakup routine to just be endless cuddles with her and your favorite stuffed animal.  

She had already spent the last hour making comforting noises. You had stopped shedding tears 15 minutes ago, so Alyssa decided it was time to go for some humor. “Hey, so now you and Taylor Swift have something in common!”

“Hmm” You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes never leaving where Supergirl was playing on screen. 

“Well, she was broken up with over text. You were broken up with over text. I think this is the perfect opportunity to listen to her re-recording of Fearless, and really channel those emotions!”

“No, Joe broke up with her in a 27-second phone call,” You lifted your head up off of her very comfortable chest to raise your eyebrow at the woman. 

Alyssa was a great keeper, and amazing at crosswords, but she always needed your help when it came to Taylor trivia. 

“Then Joe showed more consideration as an 18-year-old child than your 32 year old wanna be soccer star. It doesn’t change the fact that I think listening to Mr Perfectly Fine would be cathartic.” 

“It’s kinda funny that she wrote Forever and Always, Mr. Perfectly fine, Better than Revenge and Holy Ground all about the same guy, they’re all so different from each other,” You mumbled, settling back down on her chest. At least she didn’t say that you had as many breakups as she did. That was a rude joke. (One Alyssa wouldn’t dare make. She was more cultured than the media asshats that chased your team around). 

“Woman’s efficient,” Alyssa shrugged. “No reason why you can't recycle the same emotion into a different song genre.” 

“At least she could make millions off her pain. All I seem to be able to do is kick the ball harder,” You grumbled. Your landlord complained about you practicing in the street because of how hard you sent the ball careening into his precious brick wall. It wasn’t your fault Alyssa was too slow to stop the PK. 

“Darling, considering you’re one of the strongest kickers on the east coast, I’d say that pain is going to a worthwhile cause. But you do kind of have the worst taste in relationships.” 

“Hey! Savannah wasn’t a bad choice, just bad timing,” You huffed indignantly. 

“So that would be one out of…. How many bad relationships?” 

“At least one for every Taylor Swift album,” 

“Okay, here’s a fun idea, choose an ex for each album,” Alyssa said brightly. Thinking about music would definitely cheer you up. “Wannabe soccer star is obviously your Joe, so represents the Fearless album. Which relationship is your… Drew?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you said, already picking up your phone to add Teardrops on my Guitar to the music queue. You then quickly added Forever and Always and started scrolling through Speak Now for the next song inspiration. 

Alyssa nodded. It was a well-known fact that you had a massive crush on one Hope Solo growing up, and you had been absolutely enamored with her the second you set foot into camp. But Alyssa also knew that Hope was very faithful to a certain veteran. 

The veteran keeper had tried to let you down easy, and Kelley was still one of your best friends, but it had hurt in the moment.

“Kristie was my Haunted,” you said, smiling slightly. Dating her felt like a whirlwind, one that took your breath until you never thought it would end. She made butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you were so desperate to say the right thing, to be the perfect partner, that you always felt like you were walking a tightrope. Floating on air, but desperate to keep your balance. “At least she had the decency to wait until we were in the same city to end it.” 

“Aren’t the two of you friends now?” Alyssa looked down at you, watching as you scrolled through songs from your comfortable place on her chest. 

You nodded with a small smile. “Hmm, we are much better off that way anyway.” 

“I bet you I can guess who your We are Never Ever Getting Back Together person is,” Alyssa trilled, reaching down to take the phone. 

You playfully snatched it away from her. “Who’s to say I wasn’t going to choose I knew you were trouble?” You raised your eyebrow at the woman, who simply smirked in response. 

“I can tell you who that is too if you like,” Alyssa reached for her own phone and took over control of the speakers, adding both songs to the music queue. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who?” 

“You definitely knew Sam Kerr was trouble, and I think it took you 4 breakups with Leah to finally call it quits,” 

“I was going to say Leah for 1989, it took me forever to realize how fucked up our relationship was after we finally broke up,” 

“I’m sure the distance didn’t help.” With her in London and you in Chicago things just kind of fell apart. 

“Maybe,” you hummed, noncommittally. 

“Okay, so for Reputation. I’m thinking Don’t Blame Me,” 

“You did go a bit crazy for Jane…” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. You had almost moved to Houston for that girl, thank god you didn’t. You sunburned like nobody's business. 

“Oh come on. You just didn’t like the idea of me moving. And considering how long we had been dating at that point it did make sense!” You argued. 

“It was 3 months Y/n,” She deadpanned. 

“I was in a wlw relationship. That’s like practically three years, it’s not like I brought a u-haul to our first date.” 

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up at you. “Didn’t you have one of those the first time we met?” 

“Yeah, because I wasn’t moving into my college apartment without any furniture!”

“Whatever you say, babe. Who's your Folklore?” She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. 

“I think you skipped an album,” you said. This was weird because Lover was one of Alyssa’s favorite albums. “But, since you asked. I think Kelley is The 1.” 

“Ah, our favorite squirrel,” Alyssa’s lips ticked up. You and Kelley had dated in college (something that should have made her jealous), but Kelley was the one pushing her to admit her feelings now. 

“We were just too young and dumb,” you said, smiling. “We had a great time together, and it would have been fun if it worked out. But at some point we just realized, we were friends, but there wasn’t anything romantic there.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alyssa said, like a liar. 

“I’m not. Her and Emily are like made for each other,” You snorted with the shake of your head. “And at least she wasn’t afraid of the world knowing we were together,” 

“Well, yeah,” Alyssa smiled. She had loved seeing the way being publicly out with Kelley had brought out the best of you. “ Okay moving on! Next, we need to narrow down your No body, No Crime.” 

“I take offense. Alex is still alive, so that doesn’t count,” You huffed. 

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I know you didn’t kill any of your significant others,” Alyssa said, laughing. “Though if you listened to the song you would know that’s my job… ”

“Alex was my Champagne Problems,” You mumbled sadly. That relationship had been the hardest for you, as had the breakup. She was terrified of the world even suspecting she wasn’t straight. 

You had everything, except the freedom to be yourself, and In the end, you couldn’t take the hiding anymore. 

“You did your best, love. But people come out at their own pace. And it was before Obergfell v. Hodges was decided. Being queer was still more likely to be presented as a scandal in the media then.”

“She cheated on me with Serv. She doesn’t get a pass,” You grumbled, crossing your arms. 

“I’m pretty sure you were on a break dear,” Alyssa said, though she was inclined to agree with you. Being on a ‘break’ but not officially breaking up didn’t seem like a reason to start dating other people. Still getting over some of the semantics might theoretically help you move on. “BUT maybe we should move on. Who is your Lover?”

Your eyes squinted thoughtfully, a light pink shading your cheeks. “The only person who hasn’t ever left me is you. You let me leave the Christmas lights up until May and dance around the kitchen when you cook.” 

Alyssa looked away, not able to meet your eyes. ”I mean, the lights can change color, so they can be thematic all year. And you’re the one who chooses the music to listen to while I cook. I can’t help it if they’re all great for dancing.”

“You can dance to anything. I’m pretty sure you turned a Hosier song into a salsa dance last week.” You giggled. 

“The only person I dance with is you, Y/n,” Alyssa said, finally meeting your eyes. She could feel her body start shaking slightly, as the adrenaline kicked in. She was going to do it. She was going to tell you. “I don’t want to dance if I’m not dancing with you.” 

“I’d dance with you in a storm in my best dress,” 

“I have tried so hard to be supportive about your last several relationships. But seeing you dancing to your favorite song with anyone else… I’ve loved you for three years now and I couldn’t bear it.” 

The air was suddenly charged between you, and you realized your faces were just inches apart. It was hard to breathe. You never dreamed your best friend would return your feelings (maybe that’s why you had so many bad relationships). 

“Kiss me,” you breathed, slowly moving around so your heads were at the same level. 

“That’s not a Taylor swift Lyric,” Alyssa said. In her brain, there was a loading sign currently whirring in little circles, as she attempted to process what you just said. Did you mean what she thought you said?

“Baby just say yes,” You said, feeling so happy that tears were coming to your eyes. You leaned forward getting inches from her face, so close you could feel her breath hitch. “Please kiss me.”

“Yes,” was all Alyssa had time to say before she closed the distance and kissed you. 

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Hi! I hope you’ll answer this question bc it bothers me quite a lot.. https://www.quora.com/What-does-it-mean-now-that-BTS-are-partial-owners-of-Big-Hit-Entertainment do you think it is true what the second person (Christine Herman) said? After reading this, i started to wonder…what if BTS does really have only profit in mind while doing new projects these days? Maybe they don’t really care anymore about creative and meaningful lyrics and sound? With Butter and PTD…all this generic music sung in English. Of course they say “we wanted to make fans feel good”, “butter and ptd represent who we are” and all these things fans want to hear but.. do you really think it’s true? moreover, don’t get me wrong, i don’t find product placement in their reality shows as something terrible, i believe this is a normal thing, however, nowadays the members really film ads and do marketing a lot. so yeah, for some reason i began to question their integrity dhsjjss i hope you will understand from where my concerns come from and won’t find this ask stupid sjdjjdjd

After reading that persons answer I can immediately tell you that I basically don't agree with an overwhelming majority of what she said (even more so since a lot of it just makes her sound like a manti that hates the company and basically would want them to make music for free or something). Generally I don’t agree with most of the opinions this person holds, and also Quora really isn’t a good source for info or good opinions, most of it is written by mantis, haters, and toxic shippers with an agenda so most ARMY will tell you to stay as far away from that website as possible.

Anyway, her focus in that answer was on money, since BTS are shareholders (and how that’s a conflict of interest despite other artists doing the exact thing but no one really cares or ever thinks about it), but what she failed to consider and note was that Big Hit Music, so BTS' label, isn't part of HYBE in the sense that shareholding has no baring on it since BHM is private. So while BTS profit off of HYBE doing well, and have a small percentage of a voice as shareholders, that has nothing to do with BHM in the classical sense, even if BHM's earnings reflect well on HYBE numbers and the shareholder money. 

BHM was made private to ensure their artistry would remain untouched, that was the whole point of that.

Even if they weren't HYBE shareholders, take Namjoon as example. He has more than 170 KOMCA credits, is among the top 3 Korean artists with the most credits and is also the youngest of them all. It is said that his earnings from that alone can sustain his family for 3 generations over. Look at Hobi and Chicken Noodle Soup, that song was a hit and he paid the original creator of that song 2 million dollars upfront and earned a lot back due to how successful it was. Same goes for Hope World which, again, was and is still immensely successful. Look at Yoongi and his work both as prod. SUGA, featuring artist SUGA, and as Agust D, as well as the credits he holds for his work on BTS songs (giving him as well a total of over 100 KOMCA credits, just like Hobi). Bangtan have worked and continue to work extremely hard for their music, put their heart and souls into it, and it shows even if their style changed as they grew older and more mature.

Yes, money is a major motivator, but looking at the above paragraph, do you really peg the members as these corrupt money hungry sellouts with no music related integrity? Who would need to sign major deals and would throw away their passion to just release empty shells of music for the sole reason of money? Am I naive enough to believe that they don't care about money? Of course not, we live in a capitalist society and even if BTS wouldn't care about money anymore at this point, HYBE very much does, and yet still I can't find it in me to agree with any of what was said in that answer that person wrote.

More below the cut:

And that point about how Hyundai cars were sold out because of BTS, isn't that the point why literally any company ever hires celebrities to advertise and endorse their product? And sure, again, I'm certain they earned a lot on these deals, they aren't the first or last or only ones in the history of ever to do so. Besides, look at JK and what he's done for small companies, or Tae who wore a brooch made my a small creator at the airport which catapulted that creator into the eyes of millions of ARMYs enough so that they could move to a proper studio and earn money with their work. Or the modern hanboks JK wore which led to the brand being able to move into actual stores in malls because of their sudden new popularity and demand. Or him wearing a bracelet that helps whales with a percentage of the money from the sales of said bracelet. And for all of that JK and Tae didn't earn any money at all. JK himself said that he's more conscious of the brand he wears now because he wants to help smaller businesses in these trying times, not because they pay him to do so (especially since they would never be able to afford that), but because he's aware of the influence he has and how he can use it to help others. Sound very much like a capitalistic villain, right?

As for the product placement bit, have you been on YouTube recently? Have you noticed that many, if not most, YouTube videos by “bigger” creators (and by that I mean even people who are around the 100k subscriber mark) begin with them thanking whoever sponsored that particular video and give you a scripted minute to two minute long ad before getting into the actual topic of the video? And In The SOOP featuring Chilsung Cider, FILA clothes and the random mention of how good Samsung phones are isn’t much different from it, though really, if you’re not someone interested in fashion much, would you really notice or care that they wore FILA? It’s just...clothes? If it weren’t a BTS related show, would you even notice it much? And it’s not even like they mentioned those brands every five minutes or anything, just a few times, which sure sounded a bit out of place at times, but personally I thought it was easy to look past. That’s just how things work nowadays and it’s odd for people to behave like somehow BTS are the first and only ones to use product placements despite literally every movie and show doing it in subtle and less so manners.

The answer by that person you sent also mentioned the Hyundai song for their car IONIQ and, unsurprisingly, that person wrote it off as just some commercial jingle but I’d actually disagree with that. Not to sound like a Hyundai and Samsung stan, which I am neither of, but I actually think those two knew best how to utilize the artist they have spent millions on signing a deal with. Hyundai didn’t just write them off as pretty faces with a millions strong fan army behind them and that’s it, they remembered that they are musicians so they gave them a song and made a whole music video for it as well. And say what you will, it is a good song. Then, just a few days ago, Samsung stepped up their game and we were given Over The Horizon Prod by SUGA of BTS. For those who aren’t Samsung users, Over The Horizon is their signature ringtone and basically their company sound, and over the years different artists were asked to make their own version of it. And this time they reached out to Yoongi and asked if he’d like to do it as well. It’s kind of a big deal. Sure, Butter is used in one of their commercials much the way Dynamite was last year, but that’s beside the point. Would that person make the same claim about Imagine Dragons whose song Believer is also part of the ads for the new Samsung phones? I have my doubts.

Furthermore, and I don't want this to come across as mean toward you but, I think it is uncalled for to question their artistic integrity based on a total of 3 (three) English songs when last year alone we received 50+ songs, most of which were in Korean, among them the entirety of BE which was, according to the members, the album they were most involved in ever when it comes to both music and everything around it.

You can dislike their English songs, that’s more than fine, they have a very extensive discography you can listen to instead, but questioning their integrity based on them doing something that most, if not every, artist on their level does (as in sign ad deals with brands etc) is a bit much if you ask me. Does that mean indie artists whose songs get picked up for commercials (or for Netflix shows or movies) and thus it catapults them into the mainstream are also just money hungry people with no integrity and ones who don’t care about their music? Or is that, again, just a standard Bangtan is held to (as in that their integrity is questioned based on everything, even the most trivial/normal things) that only applies to them and no one else?

In the recent Weverse Magazine article about how Permission to Dance came to be there is a lot of talk about not only that song but also Butter and Dynamite, among the things being discussed and talked about they mentioned how the original lyrics for Butter were much more materialistic but that the members didn't like that so they asked for that to be changed. Likewise the original lyrics for Permission to Dance, as you'd expect from the penmanship of Ed Sheeran, were much more romantic, almost proposal like, which wasn't what the members wanted either so it was, again, adjusted in a way that would fit what they, as well as the A&R team, wanted. While you may not like these songs, they still had a say in them to a certain degree, could say yes or no and ask for adjustments. Why else would PTD take eight months?

While they might outsource their English songs, their main focus, so their Korean (as well as Japanese) discography is still centered around them, their lyrics, their songs, their sound. Of course you’ll also find outside producers and some lyricists on those as well, because that’s how music works these days, as in collaboratively, that doesn’t change anything at large. Their integrity is still very much there, their hearts are still in it, what other reason would any of them have to say that they want to continue for a long time, for Yoongi to say they want to figure out how to make their career last as long as possible, for JK to say that he wants to sing forever?

Admin 2 also wanted me to add that in their opinion, to a certain degree (though not fully of course), their English songs are like a way to laugh at and expose how shallow the English-centric music industry is. As in, while they made music in Korean with deep and meaningful lyrics, the US industry didn’t care but once they switched to easy to listen to sound with easy to understand English lyrics, they suddenly paid attention, are played on the radio, and even received a Grammy nomination which they wouldn’t have gotten for a Korean song ( A1: regardless how much Black Swan or Spring Day really would’ve deserved it...). 

[holidaywishes]

you finally made sense

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: So Jacob Markstrom idea for whenever you’re ready. Because I am simple and just love the idea I would love to see how you would write friends to lovers but where Jacob has known for a while that he wanted more but the reader is much slower to come to a realization. Like maybe she realizes when someone makes a comment about how they are such  a cute couple or something.

  Warning: Google Translate, fluff, maybe some language?

  Author’s Note: For some reason, this GIF doesn’t come up in the GIF search but I love it too much not to use, so I believe it’s from @droppedgloves​ and I want to thank them for it. It’s beautiful, thank you. Fun fact: I forgot what the ‘plan’ was after I wrote “here’s the plan” because I had to save it as a draft and do other stuff 😂😂 I’m not super familiar with Markstrom, so I had to spend a good full day scrolling through YouTube to watch videos and interviews of him to get a sense of his personality so I could figure out how I wanted to write him and, here’s another fun fact: I didn’t realize that video of the goalie playing with dolls (you’re the better goalie, you’re the better goalie) was actually Markstrom so that made me giggle when I was watching stuff. @mandypants95​ I hope this gives you a little bit of what you were looking for. Friends to Lovers is fun to write because of all the cliché’s that come with it so I hope everyone enjoys it, even just a little bit! It’s quite long, like I told mandypants, it kind of got away on me, so just prepare yourself 😂Stay golden, loves! <3

  P.S. The names of Marky’s friends are not real people, -- he might have friends with these names but I have no idea, -- I just needed to make up some names for his friends 😜

  P.P.S. If you keep seeing this appear after you’ve liked it, I’m sorry. Sometimes edits need to be done because of grammar (I hate when my fics have bad grammar) and if I do it on the app, sometimes the title doesn’t save so the link gets we-- it’s a whole thing.

 masterlist

 the other masterlist

xx

  You met Jake his first year playing with the Canucks but it wasn’t a natural friendship like he usually explained it to everyone. He was sweet, sure, but he was also very cocky; like he knew how good he was and was eager to make sure everyone else knew. It didn’t take long, though, for him to charm his way into your life.

  “JAKE!” you called as you walked through his front door

  “What’s up!” he yelled from the top of the stairs

  “Here’s the plan:” you started to explain, “we’re going to this bar, you’re not going to run off and leave me alone with all these strangers, we’re gonna leave when either of us decides that we’re done, got it?”

  “It’s a party, (Y/N),” he laughed, “we have to interact with them”

  “I know and it’s your birthday,” you added, “I’m just saying, I don’t know your friends. You can read me, I can read you, so just help me out a little, okay?”

  “Fine” he sighed sarcastically before running down the stairs to meet you, bumping your arm lightly with his shoulder before walking into the kitchen to grab a glass of water

  “Good” you smiled

  “Great” he teased

  “Look,” you sighed, leaning against his counter while he practically chugged his water, “don’t be weird. Don’t wear a suit and make me feel under-dressed, just wear jeans and a t-shirt”

  “It’s my birthday party...” you scoffed

  “I know, so just be comfortable” you grinned and he shook his head

  “God, you’re so demanding today” he joked

  “I have to be or you won’t listen to me”

  “You know me too well, I guess” he smiled, forcing an exaggerated eye roll from you before you turned on your heels to make your way home. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

  “Yeah” you scoffed

  “You just came over to boss me around and leave? Like this couldn’t have been done over text?”

  “I have to go get changed!” you laughed

  “What?” he chuckled, “you just told me to dress casual”

  “I know because I know you,” you admitted, “you’ll still show up looking like you’re going to some fancy event. Even in ripped jeans and a ratty t-shirt”

  “I won’t” he smiled

  “You will. Just let me go home and put on a dress. I’ll meet you there”

  “You’ll text me when you get there?”

  “As soon as the Uber turns the corner” you smirked

  “Okay, see you there.”

xx

Jacob’s P.O.V

  You waited outside the bar for (Y/N) to show up for your birthday party that your friends from Sweden came in for but she was taking forever

  “Where are you?” you asked impatiently

  “I told you I’d text you when I was there” she sent back

  “Yeah, but you were supposed to be here like 20 minutes ago!”

  “There was traffic. I can’t control the traffic”

  “Oh I’m sure you could if you tried”

  “Yeah well, maybe next time”

  “Are you close?”

  “The car is just turning the corner now”

  “Finally” you watched as cars paced by the bar until one black Lexus pulled up in front of you and (Y/N) stepped out slowly. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow her as she walked toward you, completely enthralled by the deep blue colour of her dress as it swished side to side. “Wait” you stopped her from walking into the bar, ahead of you

  “What?” she sighed as she stepped back in front of you

  “Why are you allowed to dress like that,” you gestured to her before gesturing to your outfit, “and I have to dress like this?”

  “Because,” she started, a smile creeping across her face, “these are your friends. They’ve never met me before and I want to make a good impression”

  “But it’s not like they need to approve of you,” you smirked, “we’re not dating”

  “Oh I know,” she scoffed, “but if I look good, that makes you look good. They’ll know that you’re not failing over here because you hang out with awesome people like me” she turned and walked into the bar, grabbing your arm so she could drag you in after her. Her laugh, paired with her warm touch, sent your heart racing and you hoped she would hold onto you longer but as soon as your friends greeted you, she let go

  “GRATTIS PÅ FÖDELSEDAGEN!” they shouted, grabbing you and practically tossing you back and forth between them before you noticed (Y/N)’s uncomfortable expression. You moved your hand to rest on her back

  “Guys, this is my friend, (Y/N),” you said, pushing her forward so they could see her, “(Y/N), this is George, Niklas, Ollie, Sam, Malcolm, Dustin, Eric and Corey”

  “Wow,” she exhaled with a laugh, looking at you as she tried to think of something to say, “forgive me if I mix up your names. Jake moves a lot faster than I do”

  “Guess that’s what makes him a good goalie?” Ollie joked and (Y/N) nodded

  “So you guys are just friends?” Dustin pried

  “Yes” (Y/N) was quick to answer and you hoped that none of the boys noticed your face fall

  “Let’s get some drinks!” Niklas exclaimed, directing (Y/N) to the bar while the rest of you followed behind them

  “Så är du verkligen bara vänner?” George started, speaking Swedish so (Y/N) wouldn’t be able to understand

  “Ja” you scoffed

  “Av eget val?” Corey asked

  “Så klart det är” you countered

  “Ja? Din eller hennes?” Dustin teased

  “What are you boys gossiping about?” (Y/N) laughed before you could answer, catching your eyes and a pathetic smile as the group sat at the bar

  “They’re just asking when I’m gonna win the cup” you lied

  “Did you guys meet here? In Calgary?” Ollie asked her, ignoring your lie

  “No, actually we met in Vancouver,” she admitted with a smile, “in 2016?”

  “Yep,” you added, “the end of 2016. We were instant friends”

  “No we weren’t” she laughed

  “What?!” you said, shocked at her confession

  “Ooh, Jakey, what did you do?” Malcolm teased

  “Nothing! I was a complete gentleman” you tried

  “No he was,” she laughed, placing her hand on your arm to reassure you, “you were. He was very sweet but he knew I knew who he was and I didn’t really wanna give in to it, you know what I mean? But we kinda stayed in touch for a couple days, had lunch with some of my friends, he got us tickets to a game and made us feel welcome and all that. It was all very sweet”

  “So what was the issue?” Malcolm asked, as if he knew something had changed

  “I got a job in Calgary. I had moved to Vancouver for University but I was about to graduate and the island was a little too expensive to live on after having the loans I had. So when I moved back to Calgary, we just kinda couldn’t really become friends” she replied

  “But obviously you did” Corey added

  “He found me on Instagram and added me,“ she laughed and you could feel your face fill with heat, “then he just wouldn’t leave me alone”

  “And then he got traded here” Sam finally added, earning a round of laughs from everyone when they realized he hadn’t said anything

  “Then he got traded here. During a Pandemic, in the weirdest season of Hockey I’ve ever witnessed” she laughed

  “She flipped when I told her”

  “I hadn’t kept up with the trade deadline” she added

  “So she was in the middle of a Zoom call or something” you continued, the two of you now telling the story together

  “When I get this text”

  “I wrote, purposely very cryptically, I’m coming to see you”

  “And I was obviously very creeped out”

  “But she still replied”

  “Well, I had to figure out what the hell he was talking about!” she laughed, pushing your shoulder playfully

  “Sure but you could’ve just been like ‘this is a joke’ and left it at that” you teased before she rolled her eyes

  “Anyway…” she smirked, “I sent back a message asking what the hell he was talking about”

  “So I told her I got traded and she sent a voice note practically screaming”

  “I was excited”

  “I was nervous but I was happy that I’d have a friend in the city outside of hockey”

  “So I asked him when he was going to get into the city, to see if we could meet up”

  “I told her”

  “But then Alberta went into a weird quasi-lockdown and I didn’t want to get him in trouble”

  “So we FaceTimed”

  “Which we’d obviously done a million times over the years”

  “We caught up”

  “Planned to get together”

  “Which we did, pretty soon after, and now here we are”

  “Here you are” George interjected, leading you and (Y/N) to laugh awkwardly before each taking a sip from your respective drinks and Niklas pointed out a booth where everyone could sit and talk without having to crane your necks. After a while, and a few more cocktails, everyone seemed to be getting along which, honestly, made you smile; something that Ollie was all too quick to notice.

  "I'll be right back" (Y/N) said with a smile before she started to push you out of the booth, leaving you with your friends and their very obvious questions

  "Before you say anything," you smirked, "just don't"

  "Come on" George laughed

  "If you already know what we're going to say, why don't you answer the question?" Sam added

  "Come on, Jakey" Malcolm teased

  "Säg det" Corey added

  "Säg vad?" you played dumb

  "Kom igen..." Eric continued

  "Ingen aning om vad du pratar om..."

  "Hur länge har du älskat henne?" Dustin finally asked

  "Hey!" you exclaimed when you saw (Y/N), trying to get them to forget about the question

  "Hi," she said, caught off guard by your excitement, "everything okay?"

  "Yeah" you answered, letting her back in before you squeezed in next to her

  "You sure?" she said, furrowing her brow

  "Yeah! We just wanted to get another round but wanted to make sure you were here before we did..."

  "You're a terrible liar" she laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and exposing her neck

  "Så... ska du berätta för henne att du älskar henne eller måste någon av oss göra det?" Sam said, causing (Y/N)'s head to ping pong back and forth between the two of you, as if she was trying to understand what he said to you

  "What did he say?" she asked you, leaning into you, causing your cheeks to flush with heat

  "Nothing," you said, distracted by her peach-scented shampoo and the way she didn't move away from you, clearing your throat when you realized that you were almost moving toward her, "they're just teasing me. You all have that in common”

  “Yeah, something tells me that’s not what he said” she smirked, her eyes dancing between yours before she sat back up and continued talking with the guys; they told her stories about how you were as a kid, she laughed and said that you hadn’t changed at all.

  “It was nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Malcolm said, “take care of him while we’re gone okay?”

  “I will” she smiled

  “Take care of yourself, too” Corey added

  “Thanks”

  “And you,” George pointed to you with a smirk, “you take care of her”

  “Yeah yeah yeah” you joked

  "Vi är seriösa, J," Niklas said, "Hon är för bra för dig men om du tar hand om henne ..."

  "Då vet du..." Sam added, raising his eyebrows as (Y/N) called a cab

  "Allvarligt killar, sluta" you sighed

  "Du älskar henne" Ollie whispered

  "Berätta bara för henne," Dustin said while Eric nodded his head

  "Det är inte så enkelt" you sighed, watching (Y/N) continue to try to hail a cab and fail, dropping her head in annoyance

  “Come on!” you heard her yell, earning a scoff from you

  ”Har jag varit kär i henne i ungefär två år? Ja," you confessed, "spelar det någon roll? Nej, för hon känner inte samma sak om mig och jag tänker inte tvinga henne att känna något hon inte gör”

  "Tycker du inte att hon förtjänar att veta det?" Sam asked

  "Vi såg hur hon såg på dig," Ollie grinned, "Jag tror att det finns några känslor där"

  "Jag tror inte det" you sighed once more, looking over at (Y/N) who had successfully hailed a cab

  “Jake!!” she called excitedly, a huge smile spread across her face, “come on! It was nice to meet you guys!” she called to your friends and they waved her goodbye, “Jake, I can’t keep this guy waiting forever!”

  "Du bör gå" George laughed

  "Hon är så bossig" Corey joked

  "Ja, det är hon" you smirked, looking at her calling you to the small yellow car and telling the driver to wait just one more minute. ”Okej killar, jag måste gå. Tack för att du kom in för att önska mig en grattis på födelsedagen,” you smiled, “Ha en säker flygning tillbaka”

  "Kommer att göra, Jakey," Malcolm said

  “Hallå!” Niklas interrupted one last time, "Berätta bara för henne"

  “Adjö” you shook your head before smiling and waving them goodbye

  “Geez! Took you long enough!” (Y/N) whined, hopping into the backseat of the cab with you close behind

  “Relax, I had to say goodbye. They came a long way” you replied

  “Such a good friend,” she said, “can I just stay at your place tonight? I’m exhausted”

  “Yeah that’s fine” you agreed, letting your hand fall next to hers, brushing her skin with your pinky and waiting for someone to break the silence

  “Where to?” the driver finally asked, bringing your attention to him before giving him your address

  “Your friends were nice,” (Y/N) added wearily, “they didn’t really like to talk in English though did they?”

  “Their Swedish is better”

  “That’s fair” she yawned, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the window. You smiled as thoughts of how your life could be with her — falling asleep next to her, caressing her skin as she slept, pushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear so you could kiss her softly — but you knew she didn’t feel the same, so all you would ever be was friends.

xx

  You fell asleep in the cab next to Jacob but you could swear you felt him watching you. He did wake you up, gently, when the cab pulled up in front of his apartment.

  “(Y/N)?” he whispered, “hey”

  “Hi. What’s going on?”

  “It’s time to go inside” he smirked

  “Oh” you scoffed, pushing yourself across the bench seat and stepping out of the cab, stumbling into Jacob when you finally stood up

  “Whoa” he chuckled, placing his arm around your waist to keep you from falling

  “I’m sorry,” she whined as you both stepped into the elevator, leaning back against the cold metal and away from Jake. “I didn’t think I drank that much but I guess I couldn’t keep up with you guys”

  “It’s okay,” he laughed and you started to drift off to sleep again, “hey, we’re almost to my place, don’t fall asleep here okay?”

  “Okay” you hummed before he started to keep you awake by telling you jokes. “Oh my god, Jake, stop!” you laughed, “your jokes are awful”

  “Hey! My jokes are pure gold” he countered

  “Sure they are” you scoffed. When the elevator finally opened, you slowly walked out, swaying and stumbling through the hallway before Jake eventually placed his hands on your waist and guided you to the door

  “Alright, here we are. Come on, drunky”

  “Why aren’t you more drunk?” you finally asked, only now noticing that he seemed very sober

  “I’m twice your size,” he laughed, “I can manage a bit more alcohol than you”

  “Yeah but you’re like… sober. Like you didn’t drink at all” you questioned before stumbling into his chest

  “Oh-kay, let’s just get you to sleep,” he said, carrying you to his bedroom

  “Hey mister,” you slurred, “what do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m putting you in bed” he said

  “This is your bed, I don’t know what kind of ideas you have in your little Swedish brain”

  “Don’t worry, kid,” he scoffed, setting you down on the firm mattress before tucking you under the covers, “I’ll be in the guest room”

  “Wait!” you called as he started walking away, “happy birthday” you smiled, realizing you hadn’t said it to him nearly all-day

  “Thanks,” he whispered and you saw him smile while he began closing the door, “now get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” The next morning, you heard him in the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible, rummaging around the cabinets

  “Hey sleepy head!” he exclaimed

  “Oh wow,” you replied softly, rubbing your temples, “why are you yelling like that?”

  "I'm sorry," he whispered but it still felt like yelling, "am I annoying you?"

  "What are you doing?" you asked, glaring at him while you sat down on the stool at the kitchen island

  "I'm making pancakes!" he smiled

  "You can't cook" you groaned, still rubbing your temples in hopes that it would cure your hangover

  "Wow, rude," he joked, throwing a metal spoon into his sink and you shuddered at the ringing of the steel that echoed through the room, "do you want some aspirin?"

  "Yes please" you smiled gratefully

  "Here" he said, handing you a glass of water and two small pills

  "Thank you," you said and he saluted you lazily, earning a scoff from you, "so what's going on today? Post birthday plans?"

  "My mom is calling in soon and then I have to go to practice, we've got a game tomorrow. In Vancouver, so we're flying out this afternoon," he replied, keeping his eyes on the food in front of him while he spoke, "so the day is pretty much set..."

  "Oh," you said, clearing your throat as you finished your glass of water, "okay. I'll just... leave you to it then"

  "What?" he scoffed, "I didn't mean it li-- you're not gonna stay and talk to my mom? You know she loves you more than she loves me"

  "Well, I am very lovable," you teased, smiling at him until your headache forced you to stop, "but I don't want to intrude or anything. I'll just grab my phone and get an Uber so I can head home"

  "Stop it," he huffed, turning off the burner and walking over to you, "I'll drive you home later, just stay and chat with me and Mom" he placed his hands on your arms before his eyes focused on your own and you found yourself unable to resist his insistence; your pursed smile giving it away before you could

  "Fine," you finally said, "I'll stay."

  "Good" he smirked, turning back to grab you a pancake, practically tossing the plate to you. When his mom finally Facetimed him, he was in the other room so you were forced to greet her first

  "Hey, Lena!" you exclaimed

  "(Y/N)! Darling! How are you?" she asked, her smile so much like her sons

  "I'm good, how are you?"

  "I'm good! Thank you for asking," she smiled, looking past you for Jake, "now, where is my son?"

  "He's probably off puking somewhere," you joked, "he really can't handle his alcohol in his old age"

  "His tolerance must have lowered since moving to Canada"

  "Especially when the actual alcohol percentages are so low compared to Sweden"

  "I'm disappointed in him" she laughed

  "Me too!" you added, laughing with her before Jake finally walked into frame, standing behind you with his arms on either side of you and his chin resting on the top of your head

  "Alright you two," he smirked, "stop making fun of me"

  "It's your fault," you teased, tilting your head so you were looking up at him directly, "not being in the room and all"

  "When will I learn?" he joked, looking down at you before making a funny face

  "Never. You'll never learn. You're impossible" you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him as he pushed your shoulder and sat down in the seat beside you

  "You two are so sweet" Lena smirked

  "Ma..." Jake sighed

  "We are sweet, aren't we?" you replied, noticing both Lena and Jacob shake their heads; granted, with different expressions on their face

  "It's not--" he started, exasperated after having clearly had this conversation with his mom more than once

  "What's wrong?" you asked, confused

  "I think you're the most adorable couple I've ever seen, honestly" Lena admitted and you scoffed, a blush creeping into your cheeks

  "Oh, whoa," you smiled, "Jake, have you been going around telling your parents we're dating?"

  "No" he sighed, closing his eyes lightly as if he was embarrassed

  "I've been trying to get him to ask you out for months now but he won't do it" she teased

  "Well, he wouldn't," you said, looking between the mother and son, "because we're just friends. He wouldn't want to ruin that"

  "Alright mom," he said, over the back and forth, "enough of this conversation. I've got to take (Y/N) home, okay? Love you, thanks for the chat"

  "Hey, Jacob!" Lena yelled before he could end the call, "we haven't spoken, don't hang up on me like that"

  "I'll just.. go wait outside" you whispered, watching him sit down in front of his computer to await the disappointed words that his mom would soon say to him. You waited outside for a few minutes before checking if his truck was unlocked, sitting on the step when you saw that it wasn't and realizing that if you tried to open the door, the alarm would go off. It was another hour before Jacob finally came outside to meet you

  "Sorry about that" he sighed

  "That's okay. She called to talk to you, I'd be upset too if someone tried to hang up on me when I specifically called t--"

  "Yeah, I get it," he said through bared teeth, "let's just go, okay? I have to be at practice soon" you furrowed your brow but got into the passenger seat, looking at him take a deep breath before starting the car. You thought about the words his mother used when she spoke about you and Jacob. You two are so sweet, the most adorable couple I've ever seen, I've been trying to get him to ask you out for months. It was all kind of odd to you. Not only that Lena had said it, or that she and Jake had clearly had the conversation before, but that he was so irritated by the whole interaction. Why was he so upset? you thought to yourself. Did he think you were embarrassed? Did he think that you would be hurt that he had never agreed to take you out on a date? Or was there something that he had said to Lena that he didn't want you to hear?

  "Jake?" you said, as he drove through the city silently but he didn't respond. Soon enough, he pulled up outside of your apartment building and you hesitated before finally jumping out of the car, with just enough time to clear the door before Jake sped away from you. What the fuck? you scoffed, heading inside in hopes of clearing your head. You spent the day racking your brain about what could have gotten Jake so upset but nothing came to mind; nothing you said was rude, or at least you didn't think it was, and everything was true, so what was his deal?

  "Tell me exactly what happened?" your friend, Susie, asked from the other end of the phone after you had explained the morning to her

  "Again?" you whined

  "Yes, again, I need to know if you're missing something"

  "We went for drinks last night, for his birthday, with his friends. We all laughed and had a good time. I drank too much, stayed at his place, in separate rooms. When I woke up, we joked around like we always do, he gave me some aspirin and made some pancakes before his mom called from Sweden" you exclaimed, smirking to yourself a little while you thought of the conversation you and Lena had before Jake came back into the room. "She loves me, so we joked about Jake a bunch but then he came into the room, stood behind me and rested his chin on my head. I looked up at him and we teased each other a bit more. Lena said we were sweet, I said yeah of course but Jake seemed to.. argue with her? I don't know, Lena kept going saying that we made a cute couple but I corrected her, saying we were just friends. My exact words were to Jake 'have you been going around telling your parents we're dating?' to which he said No and then Lena said she's been trying to get him to ask me out for a while but he's always said no"

  "And what did you say...?" Susie interjected, her tone telling you that she was hearing something that you clearly weren't

  "I said that he wouldn't ask me out because we were just friends," you replied plainly. It was the truth, what was wrong with that? "and that he wouldn't want to ruin that"

  "He wouldn't?" she questioned with a scoff before continuing, "fine. What happened after that?"

  "Things got weird and tense. I let them talk alone and then he drove me home in a weird mood. He barely talked to me, he barely even looked at me!"

  "(Y/N)..." she sighed, "(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)..."

  "What? What? What?" you scoffed in reply

  "HOW ARE YOU SO BLIND?!" she shouted through the phone, forcing you to pull it from your ear for a minute

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I've seen it for years," she said, "but I always thought you knew. But you really don't, do you?"

  "Know what? What have you seen for years?"

  "The way you'd stop everything when he called, the way you'd schedule FaceTimes like clockwork, the way he knows your favourite colour as it changes from week to week. The fact that he could have anyone he wanted, who would want him back, but he chooses to ask you to hang out with him all the time, from a different province? A different time zone?" she explained but you were still lost

  "We're friends. We like hanging out with each other and we can't really do that in person because of what's happening now. Plus, he's so busy..."

  "(Y/N)!!!" she yelled again, "COME ON!"

  "JUST SPIT IT OUT! I'm clearly not gonna get what you're trying to get me to get..."

  "He's been in love with you for years. Probably since the two of you started really getting to know each other," she said and the words hung in the air as you tried to grasp them, "but when you said that you were just friends? He probably thought that he was never going to be anything more than that to you. Maybe he thinks he's wasted his time all these years"

  "He's not in love with me" was all you could think to say

  "Yes, he is," she laughed, "and you're in love with him"

  "Now, hold on," you scoffed, "I'm pretty sure I would know if I were in love with somebody"

  "Would you?"

  "Of course I would"

  "Fine," she replied, seemingly dropping the conversation, "but he is in love with you and I think you need to talk to him about it"

  "And say what?" you asked

  "I don't know..." she said, her smirk ever present on her words, "but I'm sure you'll think of something"

  "Susi--"

  "I gotta go," she interrupted, "keep me in the loop. Love you, bye!"

  "WAIT!" you shouted to a now static line, "well what the fuck...?" you said to yourself. You were left alone with the thought that Jake might have feelings for you and the words that Susie tried to convince you were true

  "You're in love with him, too" it was nonsense. You couldn't love Jake... It was Jake. He was Jacob Markström. Was there a part of you that found him attractive? Yes. Yeah, sure but were you in love with him? No. No, there's no way.

  "FUCK!" you shouted to your empty apartment, as you paced through the living room, "why would she say that? It doesn't matter. I don't love him. I mean, he's Jake. He's just the guy who teases me for literally every move I make. So, he knows that my favourite colour changes every week, who cares? That doesn't mean anything. Sure, you knew that he loves Country music more than he's actually confessed in his interviews, but that's just what happens when you're friends with someone. And, yes, when the light hit him just right, he looked like he was covered in gold but that's not him. That's the sun... It's not like he's a god or anything, he's just got blonde hair and the sun does stuff to blonde hair..." you could feel yourself making excuses but you had to because maybe you didn't want it to be true. You couldn't be in love with him, could you? "Fuck" you sighed.

xx

Jacob's P.O.V

  You had been ignoring (Y/N) for almost a week at this point. You weren’t sure what to do or say to her knowing now, for sure, that she only thought of you as friends but you hated not having her around. She had become such an integral part of your life and not having her there just felt... wrong

  “Jake, talk to me, please!” she texted and you sighed, staring at your phone and contemplating an answer but you just couldn’t think of something to say, “JAKE! I know you’re getting these messages. Just let me talk to you please. If you don’t want to say anything fine but I need to talk to you”

  “Are you gonna leave me alone if I let you talk?” you finally gave in

  “Yes,” she sent back, “but I need to see you to say all of this...”

  “Seriously?” you scoffed

  “Yes. Seriously. Please?”

  “Fine. When are you free?”

  “Right now!” she replied quickly

  “I can’t right now. I literally just walked into the locker room, how about tomorrow?”

  “How about after practice? I can meet you at the Dome...”

  “Fine” you huffed to yourself

  “Everything okay?” Tanny asked when he heard your exasperation

  “Yeah” you sighed, holding up your phone to let him know that it was something on there

  “Great!” (Y/N) added, “I’ll see you at four?”

  “Yeah sure, fine” you tossed your phone into the shelf in your stall and rubbed your face in frustration

  “Yo, Marky...” Chris continued, noticing your stress, “seriously man, what’s going on?”

  “(Y/N) wants to meet up and ‘talk’” you replied, putting air quotes around talk

  “The girlfriend wants to break up huh?” he chirped and you scoffed, shaking your head in return

  “I’ve been ignoring her for like a week. I don’t know what to say to her... I’ve been able to hide my feelings for her for so long but she finally said to my mom, on my birthday, that all we’ll ever be is friends and, I don’t know, I just don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know if I can hide how I feel anymore”

  “She has feelings for you, too” he said

  “Yeah.. she thinks of me as a big brother”

  “No,” he countered, “she has the same feelings for you as you do for her. She’s just scared to admit it”

  “Why would she be scared to admit it?” you said dumbly

  “Because,” he smirked, “it would mean admitting that guys and girls can’t just be friends. That there’s always some kind of attraction and that sex gets in the way”

  “Sex?” you blushed

  “I’m not saying you’ve had sex or that you’re going to,” he admitted, “I’m just saying, I’ve met (Y/N) before and she’s always said that she doesn’t agree with the idea that guys and girls can’t be friends because someone always wants to sleep with someone else. But if she admits to having feelings for you, then all of that becomes... hypocritical”

  “She wouldn’t be that petty...”

  “I wouldn’t call it petty,” he said, heading back toward his stall to continue putting on his gear, “I would call it stubborn.” By the end of practice, you were looking for (Y/N) everywhere but there was no one in the stands and you figured she must have wanted to meet you in the parking lot so you could drive her somewhere private. You took a quick shower and packed up your bag, looking at your phone quickly to see if there was anything from her but your screen was clear, forcing your brow to crease in response

  “Take it easy, guys” you smiled as you made your way out of the locker room, waving to the team before catching Tanny give you a head nod. You practically ran out of the building to find (Y/N) when you saw her arguing with a security guard

  “Oh, Jake! Finally. I’ve been arguing with this guy for like an hour. He wouldn’t let me in!” she explained through gritted teeth

  “It’s fine. Thank you,” you said to the guard, pulling her away from him and toward your car, “what is wrong with you? You can’t argue with Security, you’re tiny. You’re not a threat, you just look like a chihuahua”

  “Ha ha” she replied sarcastically

  “Am I taking you somewhere to talk or what’s going on?” you spat

  “Do you wanna go somewhere?” she asked

  “I wanna know what you wanna talk about and then maybe I can decide if we should go somewhere” you admitted, stomping off to your car

  “I wanna talk about us” she whimpered as she caught up to you. You caught her eye for just a second before shaking your head

  “Get in the car” you scoffed and she did as you told her. The two of you were silent for a while before (Y/N) tried to get you to start talking but you shushed her, keeping the ride silent aside from the radio until you got to relatively empty part of Prince’s Island Park. “Alright,” you said sternly as you slammed the door shut, “talk”

  “I...” she hesitated, closing the door lightly

  “What?”

  “I never--”

  “Never meant to hurt me?” you interrupted thinking you were finishing her thought

  “I never wanted to be with you...” she admitted and you scoffed in return

  “Wow... thanks. Glad we could have this talk”

  “No, wait, Jake, stop,” she sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t realize how you felt until like a week ago. Apparently, everyone else around me knew but I was too stupid to see it. I thought we both wanted the same thing”

  “And that was to never be with each other?”

  “I thought we just wanted a friend”

  “Because I can’t get my own friends?”

  “Because I didn’t think you thought of me like that” she shouted

  “Why not?” you exclaimed

  “You never really did anything to make me think otherwise!”

  “Sure I did!”

  “Jake... come on. You never did anything differently...”

  “I drove you places” you tried and she scoffed

  “Oh no, you’re right,” she teased, “how could I not have known?”

  “How about me calling on Valentine’s Day?”

  “How was I supposed to know that was anything other than you having a day off?” It was a fair point, actually. She knew that you’d often lose track of days when you were on the road and, sometimes, you’d miss holidays altogether

  “I never forgot your birthday!” you said as if that proved something

  “And?”

  “And... you should’ve known then”

  “Jake, it doesn’t matter,” she sighed, “the point is that I didn’t notice until now.”

  “So what?” you asked, “you wanted to talk to tell me that you never wanted to be with me? I don’t get why you couldn’t just wait for me to come to you or why you had to stop everything for this”

  “Jake..”

  “I mean no, you didn’t stop everything but you might as well have”

  “Jake...” you heard her say, trying to get you to stop but you continued rambling

  “But that’s what I do. For you. I drop everything as soon as you call or text because you need me and I like that you need me, so I stop and run to you”

  “Jacob!”

  “WHAT?”

  “I LOVE YOU, TOO” she shouted over you, her eyes closing softly when she realized how loud she was. “I didn’t realize it until I looked back at everything and I didn’t think it was actually how I felt because, I mean, it’s you...” she chuckled, “and it’s me. We couldn’t be an ‘us’ but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted there to be an ‘us.‘ I knew you were mad, you weren’t taking my calls or responding to my texts -- even though I saw that you had read them -- and I didn’t want to make things worse but I hated not having you around to tell me that I burnt my pizza, again, or that I should eat more fish or that I was a terrible tour guide. I hated not hearing your voice everyday or seeing your smile,” you began walking toward her as she continued to ramble, your heart warm with each word that left her lips, “I was always confused why you weren’t with anyone and why I was happy that you never were but when I figured it out, everything made sense. You finally made sense...” she stopped when you stood in front of her, closing any space between the two of you

  “You done?” you asked with a smirk

  “I-I think so...” she stammered as your hands crept to the sides of her neck, your thumb pushing her chin up so you could lean down and capture her lips slowly. She welcomed your lips as if they had been missing from hers for a lifetime but her arms stayed at her sides for a minute longer until it was too much for her and she let her hands clutch your wrists while your tongue glided across her lip to gain access inside her mouth. She let out a small moan when her mouth opened, earning a smirk from you before your hands fell from her neck, down her body, until they cupped her ass and you picked her up; her legs instinctively wrapping your hips, mirroring her arms wrapping around your neck. You set her down on the hood of your car while your tongues intertwined with each other and her fingers tangled in your hair. It took a while for either of you to break the kiss, leaving her chest heaving as she tried to her breath

  “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” you laughed as her head fell against your chest and you kissed her forehead

  “And?” she asked, lifting her head back up to look at you

  “It was better than I thought it would be”

  “Gee,” she scoffed, pushing your shoulder playfully, “thanks”

  “I think we just need to keep doing it” you teased

  “I can do that”

  “Good” you whispered, leaning back in to press a kiss to her lips as she smiled against your lips

  “Maybe we should go somewhere private” she whispered

  “Sure” you replied, distracted by the feel of her skin under your fingertips, before you moved your lips to her neck, eliciting small whimpers from her

  ���Jake...” she moaned and you hummed against her skin, smirking to yourself, “somewhere private...”

  “Fine,” you smirked, reluctantly agreeing with you before picking her up again to carry her back into the passenger seat. You sat in the drivers seat but didn’t make any moves, half hoping that she’d pull you into the backseat and say that this was ‘private enough’ but she didn’t do that. Instead, she leaned across the centre console and kissed your cheek

  “Let’s go” she whispered in your ear, making you smile before your hand found its way to her knee, stationing itself there throughout the drive. She stopped you from moving your hand further up your thigh by grabbing it, holding it with both of hers

  “Hey,” you whispered, bringing her hand to your lips, “we’re gonna have a lot of fun together”

  “Yeah,” she smiled, “I think so, too.”

[chubby-maimaki]

hi neff!! 45 sounds like fun 🥰💕

Hi, my gorgeous fellow greek <3 I hope you enjoy this @anastasia-93-daybidaylove

After an exhausting day at work, Chloe Beale couldn't wait to return home for a nice hot bath and an evening with her long-time girlfriend Beca and their two pups, Oliver and Daisy. Beca was supposed to be already at home, her shift ending way earlier than hers, but she did text her anyway to make sure that their plans were still the same and that Beca hadn't arranged anything else.

Beca hadn't responded yet, Chloe had sent that text 45 minutes ago, but that didn't bother Chloe. Unlike her, Beca wasn't always glued to her phone and there were many occasions where Beca left it at home and Chloe had to bring it to her at work.

Chloe on her way home decided to make a quick stop at her favorite bakery, a craving for chocolate cake was taunting her the whole day. She didn't find anywhere near the bakery to park, thus parking a few blocks away. She wasn't really the person to look inside a shop when she was passing by them, but she didn't know what made her do it that day.

And she was glad she did. There she was, her girlfriend Beca, in a coffee shop a block away from the bakery, sitting across another woman. Chloe knew she looked familiar but jealousy took over anyway. They looked really cozy, even Beca who wasn't a big fan of PDA, was hugging this woman, in a way Chloe had never seen her hug another person...well except for her. Tears started gathering in her eyes and she moved away quickly not wanting Beca to see her.

Chloe couldn't believe what she had just seen. Beca, her Beca, the person she loved more than anyone else in the world, was cheating on her. With a woman who looked at least a decade younger than her.

Chloe tried to bring to mind Beca's behavior the past few weeks. She wasn't distant or anything. Maybe she had been a little, but Chloe blamed in on the excessive shifts she had taken. Never in a million years, Chloe would have guessed that.

She made it back to her car and tears running now freely down her face. She would deal with Beca at home.

Beca came home an hour after Chloe. She was still dressed in her uniform and she had a big smile on her face.

Chloe was sitting on the couch and avoided looking at Beca. Beca was all glowy and stuff...and Chloe was... well...miserable and had neglected. Of course, Beca would fall for someone younger and shinier.

"Hey, princess," Beca said more cheerful than Chloe would like to. Chloe had made a promise to herself not to make a deal out of this before making sure that Beca was indeed a cheater but that smile and that glow made it all clear for her.

"Where were you?" Chloe asked harshly, taking Beca by surprise.

"Uhm, I was at work. Chief made us stay longer for a meeting. I tried calling you on my way home but you wouldn't reply." Beca said while sitting next to her girlfriend. The moment Beca sat on the couch, Chloe stood up taking the seat opposite to her, on the armchair. She didn't want Beca anywhere near her right now.

"Lies. Just lies." Chloe laughed but it wasn't a happy one.

"What are you talking about?" Beca asked confused.

"I saw you Beca. I saw you in the coffee shop with that younger woman, hugging and being all couple-y and in love."

"I know what I'll say is a cliche and but this was definitely now what it looks like, Chloe. Let me explain to you."

"Explain what? That you are cheating on me with a younger woman? That you are lying to me? Or that you haven't had the balls to tell me that you don't love me anymore?"

"Wow, Chloe, slow down. I never lied to you." Beca tried.

"You didn't tell me the truth either."

"Because you haven't let me fucking explain to you!" Beca said in exasperation.

"No, Beca, I can't trust anything that comes out of your mouth right now," Chloe said dismissively.

"Jesus, Chloe, how am I supposed to defend myself if you don't let me?"

"Why would you need to defend yourself?" She asked accusingly.

"Because I. Wasn't. Cheating. On. You." Beca enunciated each word, in hopes of getting through Chloe's head.

Chloe could see she was becoming unreasonable and unfair so she decided to give Beca a chance.

"I want the truth. I can tell when you're lying, Mitchell."

" That girl you saw...it's Emily, my cousin. You would have remembered her if you hadn't been smashed at her brother's wedding. Her mom and my mom are sisters. Half-sisters."

Oh crap, Chloe thought. She remembered Emily. Not her face, but Beca talked a lot about her.

"And why did you and Emily meet in secret? Why did you lie to me about you being still at work?"

"Because...Emily, well her mom has something I wanted and she was kind enough to bring it for me from Atlanta." Beca explained.

"Why couldn't you two meet here? I always wanted to meet her anyway." Chloe could still tell that Beca was hiding something.

"Well if you hadn't tried to bite my head off, I'd tell you that she will come for dinner Friday night."

"What did she bring you from Atlanta?"

"Are you interrogating me?" Beca teased.

"Yes," Chloe replied seriously.

Beca took a deep breath. There's no way she was getting out of this without telling Chloe the truth.

"She brought me our grandma's ring. Her brother was supposed to give it to his wife but he's not the one following traditions, so they both suggest I give it to you." Beca revealed.

"I wanted that ring in order to propose to you, Chloe. I've been planning this for the past two months. That's why I've been so secretive. Me, Jesse, Aubrey, and Emily are all working as more secretly as we can to pull this off. And we were so close. One day away to be exact."

"Were you planning on proposing to me tomorrow night?" Chloe whispered. She felt ashamed for thinking that way for her girlfriend. And for acting that way.

"Uh... We had this whole thing planned, restaurant and live music and the ring."

"Beca I can't tell you how sorry I am," Chloe said, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Hey, don't be. To be honest, I don't even know how I managed to keep this from you for two months. I just wanted to propose to you here, but they guys keep insisting on making it grande. Whatever that means." Beca shrugged. Chloe could tell that Beca was bothered by the turn of the events.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Chloe crouching down on one knee.

"Chloe, what are you doing?" Beca asked.

"You wanted this whole thing to be a surprise. This one is definitely a surprise. So..." Beca looked around. She found Bella's, her goddaughter's plastic ring on the coffee table.

"...Beca Mitchell, will you marry me?" Chloe was grinning and Beca was crying.

"Omg, Chloe, yes, of course, I will marry you." She grabbed the plastic ring from Chloe's hands and wore it on her finger before crouching down do and planting small kisses on her girlfriend's face.

"I'm sorry for ruining this," Chloe said between kisses.

"You didn't ruin everything. This is perfect. You are perfect."

"I love you, Beca Mitchell."

"And I love you too, Chloe Beale."