#because that seemed to happen before they broke into the hair salon

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

Close Friend 3

I’m kinda digging Close Friend 3 so far! I’m not sure how BL it’ll be, but it’s fun. Of the 5 trainees, two kissed in a flashback that only one seems to remember (longer rainbow hair Win and green hair Dunk, I think. Still working on names). But I’m really hoping red haired leader Best and shorter rainbow hair (handcuffed to a random older lady) Earth are going to be a thing. Because they were definitely red and blue coded in episode 1. And apparently there has been High KEy Drama between them since Best became the leader of their group and Earth starting “acting out.” I’m unclear on what the acting out was. But he does keep suggesting they do illegal things like dine and dash and illegally board a train, instead of asking for help like the others go with. So I’m Interested! And they all, as far as I can tell, dyed each other’s hair after drunkenly breaking into a hair salon. So that's cute. Because their company wouldn’t allow them to dye their hair. So gotta do that now that they’re fired. Also couldn’t get tattoos and at least one now has a back tattoo. Or have social media, but at least a couple do now. Or date anyone, so we’ll see 👀

[klausysworld]

can you do one where the reader breaks down because she feels like all her and klaus do is have sex and he doesn’t value her so he takes her out on a date to prove how much he loves her? thank you so much if you can, i know you get a lotttt of requests!!

I love you

I was currently sat in a hair salon with Rebekah, she said she was trying to make Marcel jealous so she needed her hair done, i decided i’d have mine styled too, Klaus would be more likely to notice me if i make myself prettier.

Sometimes he doesn’t really seem to pay much attention to me…he sort of just walks past, it’s kind of like i’m a ghost. Well until he’s horny and suddenly i’m the most interesting thing on the planet. If i wore something tight he’s already got his hands on me, mouth on mine and he’s telling me how much he loves me. I’m just not sure if it’s me or my body that he loves, would he leave me if he find someone better? Somebody with a little more curve to their shape? clearer skin? softer hair? maybe if i wore a little more makeup he’d be more appreciate?

“Hellooo?? Y/n you there? Hi, hey, thought i lost you for a minute there…are you okay? You’re um well you’re crying…” Rebekah’s eyes were wide and she had a tissue held out for me which i quickly took and dabbed my eyes

“no yea i’m fine sorry, was just lost in thought or whatever” she nodded but i knew she didn’t believe me, thankfully she moved on and we pretended that it didn’t happen

On the drive back home we fell into a silence which unfortunately she broke

“why were you upset earlier? You know you can tell me right? i can keep my mouth shut every now and then”

i sighed and glanced out the window silently debating whether to lie or not

“don’t lie, you know i can tell when you lie”

brilliant.

“it’s not a big deal” i muttered, i could already feel her eyes burning into my head

“it’s my stupid brother isn’t it? did he do something? say something? look whatever it is he probably didn’t think before he did it” her eyes rolled and she continued her ramble as i blanked her out and stared into space.

By the time we got back she seemed to be coming to an end of her rant

“…point is i think Marcel is lying to himself because he is so clearly in love with me” she stated as she jumped out the car. I stayed sat there for a second trying to comprehend how we went from me being upset to her and Marcel but ended up just shrugging it off and following her inside.

Later that day Klaus had come home, a brief glance my way before he made his way to his art room. I didn’t see him again until i was headed upstairs to sleep, he was already sat in the bed with his phone in hand and shirtless. Once i closed the door his head perked up and he tossed his phone to the side, a smirk forming on his face as he reached over and pulled me to sit next to him

“you look unbelievable today my love, utterly ravishing” he whispered huskily, already pinning me down so i was flat on my back and he hovering over me.

Despite the fact he was complimenting me i couldn’t help the way my eyes began to sting with tears.

His lips were on my neck and his hands sliding under my top, hips rolling against mine while i quietly wiped my eyes hoping i didn’t smudge my mascara.

“i wish i could have you like this forever” he whispered. While trailing his mouth further down my body. His eyes were focused on my breasts and hands smoothing over my thighs.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He spread my legs wide and undid the button at the top of my shorts.

“i love you” he murmured while kissing down my torso and that seemed to do it. I sniffed a little too loud, a fear tears falling as his head shot up. Eyes wide and lips parted as he quickly redid the button up and fixed my top

“love- did i hurt you? what’s wrong?” he asked quickly, his hands holding my face as he sat up both up with me in his lap straddling him. My hands swiped at my cheeks aggressively to rid the myself the tears

“nothing, you didn’t do anything, i’m sorry i’ll just fix myself in the bathroom a second and we’ll carry on” I hurriedly pushed myself off of him and rushed into the bathroom, i went to lock the door but he was already pushing his way inside.

“y/n…you don’t have to be sorry for being upset…can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly moving to touch my face but i automatically took a step back which instantly made me feel bad as i watched the hurt sink into his expressions

“nothing’s wrong just go back to bed and i’ll come back in a second, you can undress yourself to pass the time” i muttered looking at the floor, the sour tone i used made me wince and shut my eyes with a sigh

“did i touch you somewhere you didn’t like or something? love you need to tell me if i’ve hurt you, i’m not going to leave you when you’re crying, i love you” He was walking towards me and i couldn’t stop from moving back

“no you don’t” i whispered as my back his the wall and he came to a halt in front of me

“what? of course i do- Y/n would you look at me, i’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do, if you want me to keep my hands to myself fine but please you can’t pretend i’m not here”

“why not? you always pretend i’m not there” my gaze returned to his, he was shocked, confused and somewhat annoyed which made me more pissed off than sad

“when have i ever acted like you weren’t there?” he asked a little harsher this time

“literally all the time Klaus! you barely speak to me, look at me, we don’t do anything together until you want me in your bed. I am not your personal whore Klaus, it’s the 21st century, if you just want a sex service you can go pay for it, heaven knows you can afford it” i could feel myself building walls back up around my heart, i wasn’t crying anymore, i wasn’t against the wall, we were in the middle of the room, i must’ve stepped forward a few times.

I waited for him to yell back, to call me a liar or to storm off but he just stood there silently, his eyes slowly softening and his brows pulling together as he took a step back to put distance between us

“y/n, i don’t think of you as anything like that…i’m sorry that i don’t pay you much attention, it’s not that i don’t value our relationship or don’t want ti be around you. I do love you, i love your body yes but i only learnt to love that after i had already given my heart to you. If you don’t want to have sex then we won’t but you have to tell me, i don’t want you saying yes because you feel like you have to, i ask for a reason. And spending more time together would be lovely but you forget that you rarely approach me either, you could join me in my art room whenever you like, i could paint you or draw you as well.”

“the only times i’ve come to your art room, you’ve painted me naked, please Klaus if you don’t actually love me just tell me i can’t do this, please don’t make me do this” i whispered, my hands now on my face as i felt the tears coming back.

Two arms were around me, one rubbing my back and another lightly scratching my scalp

“I love everything about you. I love the faces you pull when you silently judge people, i love how you deny that you do that and then gossip about it to Rebekah. I love that you throw a fit whenever there’s a spider and i have to kill it while you cling to my back, i love that you play your music unbelievably loud when you’re in the shower to drown out your own singing which isn’t as bad as you think. I love when you dress up but i also love when you wear sweatpants and a hoodie, no makeup and your hair a mess, i love the way your face rests when you sleep, the way you mutter random sentences when unconscious. I just love you”

my arms were now around his neck as i breathed him in, i wasn’t sure how much i believed him but i also knew that i loved him and he wouldn’t say everything if he didn’t mean it, he wouldn’t pay enough attention to those things if he didn’t care. If i was just there for his pleasure then he wouldn’t let me live in his house, become close to his family and do what i want.

“How about i take you out hm? We can do anything you want, we can go somewhere fancy if you’d like, a restaurant or something. Of you’d rather we stay in and eat greasy food in our pyjamas we can do that too” he offered while lifting me so my legs were around his waist while he picked out one of his tops and a some of my comfier underwear before placing me on the chair in the bathroom and pulling out the makeup wiped from the drawer

“can i think about it?” i asked quietly while he gently wiped at my face, i could see the foundation coming off on the cloth and i looked away, i had been wearing a lot more recently, and i could feel his distress as well

“of course you can, take as much time as you need” he whispered as he pulled out my pot of clay face mask. He carefully put my hair into a low ponytail and pushed the stray hairs back with the headband as he adjusted it on my head. He applied an even amount across my face before moving to take my top off, he faltered and hesitantly looked to me

“i won’t touch, i was just going to change your clothes, you can do it, i’ll wait in the other room” i grabbed his wrist before her could leave and kept him seated

“it’s fine, you can do it” i mumbled and he nodded with a small ‘okay’ before slipping my top off, eyes trained on my face as he made sure not to let the face mask on the new shirt he was pulling over my head. He then pulled my shorts and thong down my legs and into the laundry hamper before pulling the softer underwear up my thighs. He suddenly vanished before returning, now wearing joggers and a t-shirt.

“what would you like to do for fifteen minutes while we wait for this to dry?” he asked glancing at the pot to check he had the time right

“i dunno… you wanna read a book or something?” i think the disinterest if that idea was clear in my voice as my nose scrunched up

“well don’t you sound excited? Come on lets go get something to eat” He laughed as he scooped me into a bridal carry and ran at a human speed down the stairs to the kitchen making me giggle as i bounced in his arms. He spun me a few times before placing me on my feet and opening the fridge and humming

“we have…limited choices…we need to go shopping” he muttered, his voice showing disappointment as he closed the door and opened the cupboards

“biscuits? um…oh we have some chocolate, i can see marshmallows?” his head was basically in the cupboard as his hand dug around

“how’d you feel about making a hot chocolate with marshmallows for me to dip my biscuits in?” i asked with a big smile, looking at him with big eyes

“i can do that, let me just…” he shoved his entire arm to the side as he seemed to knock a bunch of things over before pulling it back out revealing the hot chocolate powder, he pulled everything he needed out before getting the milk pan out and pouring some in it. He turned the hob on and picked out two mugs.

We were now lead upstairs, my face mask had been washed off by the hybrid himself and he was now feeding me hot chocolate covered biscuits in bed.

“i think i know what we should do for a date” i told him as he stuffed a biscuit into his own mouth. He gestured for me to continue as he munched away

“well i think that- seeing as i always dress up and you turn up in jeans and a henley- that you should dress up in a tuxedo and i get to wear whatever i want, we’ll go to a restaurant for dinner and then come back and eat a shit tone of sweets for dessert, cakes, ice-cream whatever. Absolutely no sex, it’s off the table, we will watch a film and go to sleep, maybe a bath or shower if you can contain yourself around my naked body” he slowly nodded his head while he licked the remains of chocolate from his fingers

“tux, restaurant, dessert at home, no sex, bath, sleep. I can do all of those. When do you want me to book it for, and which restaurant? Also do you want to do online shopping or in store?“ he asked pulling out his phone and handing it to me, i pulled up my favourite place to eat and glanced at the dates available

“are you free Thursday?” i asked glancing at him

“i’m free any day you want” he mumbled as he ate another biscuit and i rolled my eyes, a smile pulling at my lips

“okay you wanna go at 6 or 7?”

“6, we can be there for up to an hour, takes 20 minutes to come back, we can get all the snacks together, bring the duvets downstairs and watch a film or two before having a bath and going to bed” he leaned over and clicked 6pm, we got the confirmation email and i switched over to do the online shopping

“online?” he questioned

“do you want to go in store? you hate when you get suck in the aisles because two people are chatting, a child is throwing tins of soup and an old person has left their thing in the middle” he blinked at me for a minute before smiling slightly

“i love you” he whispered, a grin now forming making me smile aswell

“i love you too”

By Thursday morning the food delivery had arrived, Klaus was filling the shelves with one hand and flipping a pancake with the other, i silently sat down at the kitchen island watching as he rushed about to grab different fruits from the fridge and cutting them up to put on top the pancakes, he quickly put some whipped cream on and some syrup before putting the kettle on. He slowly turned around placing the plate down before spinning back round to make two drinks, he was softly muttering to himself as he adjusted where everything was on the counter, still not realising i was there until he looked up. A small yelp left him as he jumped backwards making me burst out laughing

“jesus- how long have you been there!?”

“not long” i smiled and he pushed the plate towards me

“i don’t want you hungry but i also still want you hungry enough later for a luscious meal” he sat down opposite me watching intently as i took a bite of the food. To be fair it was pretty good and the pancakes had chocolate chips in them

“did you make ‘em or did you buy a mix?” i asked while covering my mouth with my hand

“made them of course, gosh who do you think i am?” he questioned dramatically with a hand over his heart

“my bad, my bad i forgot you were such a professional” he hummed and sipped his tea

“are we getting ready separately or together later?” he asked after i’d finished and we’d argued over who would wash up before Kol walked in and threw the plate on the floor declaring that it no longer mattered, Klaus made Kol clean it up.

“we can get ready together” i nodded and smiled at him slightly

“do you feel better…about everything?” he asked quietly while playing with my fingers

“i do…but i still worry that it’ll just go back to the way it was before..you know?” i looked down a little but his hands were now holding my face encouraging me to look at him

“i’m never going to treat you like that again, and if i ever were to make you feel less than you are i hope that you now feel comfortable enough to talk to me” he tone was soft but still somewhat firm while i rested my head in his warm hands

“thank you” i whispered, he leaned forward and kissed my head

“don’t thank me” he murmured

Finally it was time to leave, Klaus was very well dressed with his hair done properly and everything while i came down the stairs in jeans and a jumper, no makeup and my natural hair state.

“ready?” i asked and he practically beamed

“very much so” he whispered offering his hand for me to take

Once at the restaurant we ate, spoke about everything that had been going on in the world and payed we went for a small detour just wondering around the streets of the city. Neither of us had actually taken the time to appreciate it properly.

Once home we watched two films, my pick and then his while eating our chosen snacks before going upstairs

Klaus wasn’t sure about getting in the bath with me because he felt that id feel objectified if he looked at my body, i assure him that it was okay and we laid together for a little while, savouring the warmth of the bubble bath.

We now clung together in out bed, slowly drifting into sleep

“i love you y/n” he whispered against the top of my hair, his voice cracking slightly making me turn my head up, his eyes were glossy as he held onto me a little tighter

“i love you too…is everything okay?” i asked softly, wiping the stray tear that fell from his lashes away

“i’m really sorry you thought i was using you” he whispered and i pressed my lips to his

“it’s okay, just live in the now Nik, be happy for today, and everything that we’ve got right now”

“i love you”

“i know, i love you so much too”

[slaymybreathaway]

YOU'VE REALLY GOT A HOLD ON ME

◇Chapter One◇

Chapter List Masterlist Introduction

Word Count: 1k

Content Warning: physical violence (getting jumped)

1965◇Grace and Sally's Style Salon

"Hey Sally! I'm gonna head home now, alright?" Grace called out. She propped the sweeping brush up against the wall before taking her navy cardigan off of the coat hook and put it on, not bothering to fasten any of the buttons.

"See you later, Gracie!" Sally called out from where she was washing a client's hair. Grace smiled at her friend's ever-present enthusiasm, before hanging the strap of her canvas handbag over her shoulder and walking out the door.

The pair had been best friends since freshman year of high-school and had decided to open a ladies' hair salon near the end of their senior year. They came up with the idea after realising that most of the salons in Tulsa were on the West side and were too expensive for the 'Greaser' women to go regularly.

Now, a year and a half after their graduation and two months since they opened 'Grace and Sally's Style Salon', the pair are finally starting to get regular customers. That is a relief because it has been a rough couple of months financially. Even to the point that both women had to take up second jobs working at the concession stand at the Drive-In in the evenings.

Gracie walked down the streets of Tulsa, she would usually drive but her car broke down a few weeks ago and she hasn't been able to afford the repairs. So now she had to walk to work.

As she passed by the picture house she saw a red Corvair parked on the side of the road she was walking on with the keys still in the ignition. She knew this meant trouble because the Socs would never park out in the open when they're in Greaser territory, let alone with the keys still in their car.

She was about to cross the road so that she wouldn't run into whoever owned the Corvair. But before got the chance to, she saw a group of Soc boys not far ahead of where the car was parked. They seemed to be circled around someone else on the ground. A boy with long reddish-brown hair.

It was only when Grace saw a familiar group of Greaser boys running towards the gang of Soc boys did she realise who it was on the ground. The Socs jumped up and tried to run at the sight of the gang, but the Greasers got a hold of them and started throwing punches.

Grace wanted to fight too, but figured it was best not to. Instead, she ran up to Ponyboy and dragged him to the side of the building, away from everything that was going on. "Hey, are you alright kid?" she asked, taking a packet of tissues out of her bag and wiping the blood from the cut on his throat.

All her life, Grace had lived next door to the Curtis family. Their mothers were best friends, so the Curtis brothers were like family to her. Since her parents died in the same auto-wreck that killed Mr and Mrs. Curtis, they have become closer than ever. It seemed like Grace was over at the Curtis house more than she was at her own these days.

Ponyboy didn't answer, he looked a bit disorientated at the speed of everything that was happening. Before long, the socs had disappered from sight and the gang had crowded around where he was sitting.

"Are you alright, Ponyboy?" Darry asked as he lifted his brother by his armpits and hauled him to feet, shaking him.

"Quit shakin' him Darry. He's probably dizzy enough already," Grace said pointed out, crossing her arms.

Grace had always been the closest with Darry Curtis, since they were the same age. They both acted like the parents of the gang, keeping the rest out of trouble when they needed it.

"Yeah, quit shaking me Darry. I'm okay," Ponyboy muttered, he still looked shocked but he was coming to his sences now.

Darry let go of him straight away. "I'm sorry," he said and Grace knew that meant it. He doesn't realise his own strength sometimes.

Ponyboy sat down again and started rubbing his cheek, it was definatley gonna be bruised in the morning. Darry jammed his fists in his pockets, a look of worry on his face. "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?" He asked.

The kid looked up at his brother and nodded. "I'm okay," he repeated, but within a few seconds, Ponyboy had turned as white as sheet and his eyes filled with tears as he started to shake and cry.

Grace sat down beside Ponyboy on the sidewalk. "Easy Pony, they ain't gonna hurt you no more," she said in a hushed voice, trying to calm him down as she rubbed his arm.

The boy turned away and wiped his eyes, not wanting to seem weak. "I know," he breathed, shakily. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all,"

Sodapop stuck his hand out and rubbed the top of Ponyboy's head with a smile. "You're an okay kid, Ponyboy,"

Ponyboy returned his grin as he shook his head. "You're crazy Soda, outta your mind," This made Soda laugh and help him to his feet.

Darry crossed his arms. "You're both nuts," he muttered. Then he turned to Grace, held out his hand and pulled her up. "Thanks" the girl mumbled as she wiped the dirt from her tight-legged jeans.

Sodapop cocked an eyebrow amusedly. "It seems to run in the family," he smiled. Darry rolled his eyes with a chuckle as the gang started walking in the direction of the Curtis house.

[thestupidhelmet]

What Happened to Hyde after the show ended. 

That ‘90s Show is canon-divergent, so a few answers are possible.

1. Hyde is in prison. 2a. Hyde lives in Milwaukee and runs Grooves with Angie (if W.B. retired). 2b. Hyde married someone random and has kids, and he’s too busy with his career to visit the Formans this summer. 3. Hyde doesn’t exist in That ‘90s Show, so nothing happened to him after That ‘70s Show. 4. Something completely bizarre, like he moved to Amsterdam.

How the hell Jackie and Kelso got back together. 

Maybe they actually got engaged at the end of season 3 instead of Kelso running away. They get married after high school. They divorce, either because Kelso cheated (again) or their relationship toxicity got to them again. Then their son (Jay).eventually parent-traps them back into falling in love again.

Or their relationship is ridiculous and just for laughs and doesn’t make real-world / in-universe sense because that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to capitalize on AK and MK’s fame and to bring Jackie/Kelso and AK/MK fans to the show -- and possibly to give Jay some angst because his parents’ relationship is a mess.

What happened to Betsy and Brooke after the show ended. 

My main guess is they don’t exist in That ‘90s Show, so nothing happened to them after That ‘70s Show ended.

Or Brooke and Betsy are the reason Jackie and Kelso got divorced the first time. They’re his second family that he doesn’t like to talk about.

Or something entirely different that makes even less in-T7S-universe sense.

Is Kelso a good dad to either of his children or if he has any more that we don’t know about. 

This is a total question mark for me. Depends on direction / characterization T9S chose to give Jay.

What career Jackie has.

Doesn’t look like she’s sweeping hair at Fez’s salon, so hopefully she’s in one of the many dream careers she talked about on That ‘70s Show (business mogul, a TV career, etc.)

How Fez and Jackie ended 

Judging from all the info we’ve gotten so far, they were never together in the divergent-canon of That ‘90s Show. If that’s not the case, then their relationship was a week-long fling (at most) before they broke it off and Jackie reunited with Kelso -- since Jackie’s romantic relationship with Hyde also doesn’t seem to exist in the divergent-canon of T9S.

And what the fuck happened to Laurie 

Who’s Laurie?

(That was asked from T9S’s point of view.)

I hope LRK’s memory is honored somehow by Laurie’s character having a happy life, and she’s too busy during the summers to visit her parents then.

I've thought of a game we could all play.

I want everyone to give their best theories on...

What Happened to Hyde after the show ended.

How the hell Jackie and Kelso got back together.

What happened to Betsy and Brooke after the show ended.

Is Kelso a good dad to either of his children or if he has any more that we don't know about.

What career Jackie has.

How Fez and Jackie ended

And what the fuck happened to Laurie

You obviously don't have to answer all of them but you can if you want to.

I'll make a separate post giving my answers.

I invite @iamjackieburkhart @queenbookbuff @those70scomics @thestupidhelmet @bish0628 @that70sshowgoldencouple

But of course anyone can join. 😄😄😄

[cedricslover]

can you write a oneshot with wolfstars daughter dating george

Here you go bestie<33 thank u for requesting!!

As a wolfstar shipper and a George girl myself😌, I hope you like this bestie<33

Pairings: Sirius x Remus, George x Fem! Reader

Warnings: some homophobia at the beginning, teasing Sirius Black lmaooo

Word Count: 2.4k

“You want a future with me?”

“Hello dear” you turned around and saw one of your fathers, “Dad!” you jumped and hugged him, you just got off the Hogwarts express, this would be your last summer break since you’re going to be seventh year the next time you step at Hogwarts. 

“How’s my baby girl?” He looked at you as you broke the hug, you smiled at the sight of him “Doing great, where’s dad?” you looked around while he picked up your trunk, “Here!” you heard the voice of your other father and your heart jumped out of joy when you saw him, you ran to him and hugged him too. 

“Here’s a chocolate for our princess” he handed you a bar of chocolate, “Remus! You ruined my moment with her, you should show up at the exit, not here, you’re ruining my quality time with our daughter!” suddenly Sirius was having a tantrum, not likely a tantrum actually, he was just whining. 

“No” Remus answered and looked away while he bit into his own chocolate bar. You laughed at them, “Stop acting like kids” you said and linked your arms to theirs. 

“Excuse us?” They both said in unison and looked at you, their forehead creasing that made you laugh even more. 

“You may” you nodded while closing your eyes and your parents just looked at each other, and it seemed like they were blaming the other one as to why you are so sarcastic.

“Let’s just go home” you dragged them by the arms since theirs are still linked to yours. You giggled as you saw Sirius not even struggling while carrying your trunk and at the same time being dragged by his daughter, and giggled even more when you saw your other dad who was just eating his chocolate quietly while observing the surroundings. 

You three were just like a happy family, parents picking up their child that came from a boarding school, if it weren’t just the ugly looks the people gave you.

It seems like Sirius was also bothered by how people looked at the three of you, seriously? Can’t they just manage their own business. 

Remus on the other hand was like used to it, he didn’t show any bothered expression, he didn't want to feed their satisfaction. That is something you got from him, that’s why you just let the people be, but of course, Sirius being Sirius.

He removed his arms from your link and grabbed Remus' face and took a bite from the chocolate that was centimeters away from his lips-being that he was eating it, your eyes widened registering how did that happen so fast, your jaw dropped, and a smile slowly formed in your lips as you saw Remus turning scarlet. 

 “Gross” you removed your arm that was around Remus’ and walked past them, your smile didn’t left your lips as you see mixed reactions from the crowd at the station, some were smiling, some were confused, some were probably uncomfortable, and of course, the people who were obvious to be insulted or disgusted. 

Needless to say, Sirius is your father, so you flicked those people who looked openly disgusted by them, they were sneering, frowning, and rolling their eyes.

“Fuck off git” you mouthed as you walk, turning to them while your middle fingers were greeting them. 

“Good job princess” Sirius laughed and high fived you as you three arrived at the front of number 12 Grimmauld Place, you weren’t sure what was the good job for, is it for flicking those people off or for successfully apparating, you decided to shrug it off and just viewed the house, it was your father’s ancestral home, it was filled by terrible memories of his childhood but with you three living there, it was all buried deep down. 

You unconsciously stared at the beautiful house that was concealed in the muggles eyes. You felt nostalgic seeing your dads walking towards the door, memories from your childhood appeared in front of you.

A girl in a yellow flowy dress, around the age of four, was running towards two men with their arms open wide, expecting that the little girl would run to them instead of the other, but what they didn’t expect was the little girl would run straight to the space between them and both hug them from the necks. 

The little girl was giggling while her dads were teary eyed, that’s when they realized, she never had favorites, if she had the choice to not choose, she wouldn’t. 

“Y/N?” Remus called you from the doorstep, his head was cocking from the door. “Oh!” you ran to the door “call me before dinner yeah?” you told Remus as you removed your shoes. You raised your gaze to him with flashing eyes and maintained eye contact, waiting for his answer. 

“Alright” he replied to you, you felt sudden joy not even sure why but it did make you kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks!, Love you dad!” you shouted as you ran towards the stairs, 

“HOW ABOUT ME?!” you heard Sirius who was probably at the kitchen doing Merlin knows what, “I LOVE YOU TOO!” you yelled while you ran the stairway. 

“YOU BETTER BE NOT PREGNANT WITH THAT WEASLEY BOY’S CHILD Y/N!” Remus’ voice echoed and you laughed and stopped from entering your room and peeked down while holding at the stair rails.

“DON’T WORRY, I’M NOT PREGNANT!” you shouted back and you heard his sigh of relief, “YET!” you added and sprinted to your room and closed the door. 

You heard both of their voices shouting your name. You cackle while heading to your study table, your room was cozy, it was filled with different drawings you made when you were a child, there was your very first black leather jacket that Sirius gave you before he bought you a bicycle, it was hanging from a corner, properly displayed, he was expecting you to like motorbikes like he did, and you did, you like riding motorbikes. 

There was also your very first hair accessories that Remus bought for you, hair pins, hair clips, headbands, and many more. He was the one who likes to tidy you up, even before you make yourself dirty by running and riding the bike. Of course Remus struggled but thankfully, Lily did teach him a few hairstyles when they were teenagers, and the rest of his knowledge came from going to different hair salons just to ask how to style his daughter’s hair. 

An owl bumped on your window that made your brows raise and shift your head to that direction. 

“Errol?” you said the name of the owl and he dropped a letter to your hand before he headed to your table and lay down, acting very exhausted, of course to your utter panic you immediately got water and placed it in front of him. You sighed as he drank through the container, enough for him to drink. 

While he relaxed you opened the letter. 

Hello beautiful, 

                   I’ll arrive there at six, see you. 

Your husband, 

George

You bit your lower lip and smiled, then you forgot, you haven’t told your dads yet. Without wasting any time, you apparated to the kitchen. 

“Hey” you voice lingered behind their backs and they jumped, they turned their heads to you with wide eyes, “You don’t do that here” Sirius said while holding his chest, “I almost had a heart attack” he glared at you while you just tried to not laugh,

“You’re just getting old dad” you stated that made him glare at you more, Remus smiled very very sweetly at you, trying to bribe you to not say it “and you too” you smiled back, looking at their sour faces. 

“Enough” Remus raised both of his hands and shaked it, trying to shoo you. “I was about to say that George’s arriving at si-” you didn’t have the chance to finish your sentence when someone knocked at the door. 

“I’ll get it” you announced, you three were quite tensed as to who might be at the door, you weren’t expecting visitors this early, it wasn't 6 o'clock yet. 

You opened the door, ready to run back to the kitchen if something goes wrong, but what greeted who was something-or someone, who had a mischievous smile, his red hair shining because of the sun, and his brown eyes gleaming at you. 

“Hello dove” his smile became wider as he caught the perfect view of his girlfriend, her Y/H/C hair complimenting her skin, the eyes that were obviously shocked to see him, and the smile that slowly formed on her soft lips. 

“George!” you mentioned his name when you processed who was standing in front of you, he gave you a peck on the lips before he grabbed your waist and pushed you carefully to the side so he can walk, “hello Sirs” he cleared his throat and rubbed both of his hand on his pants before giving your fathers a hand shake. 

This would probably be their very first ‘formal’ meeting, they already met each other at Hogwarts, during the Triwizard tournament, but that wasn’t formal enough, unlike now. 

George was scratching the back of his neck and was being really nervous, you just surveyed them, and when you noticed something it was too late because your mouth opened before you can even think twice

“Dad, you’re the smallest” you told Sirius that made the three of them look at you, firstly George was shaking his head slightly, trying to tell you that it was not the right time, then Remus was also looking at you, he was trying his best to cross his brows but you can see the ghost of smile that was in his face, on the other hand, Sirius was there shooting daggers at you with his eyes like you’re not his child, then he slowly looked at Remus and George. 

George was obviously the tallest, but only an inch taller than Remus, while Sirius, he’s just not a six footer. 

“I-uh come George let’s prepare the table” even though it was still early, you reached for George’s hand, still feeling the stares of your father, you wanted to laugh, so hard, but he might not buy you your favorite cereal, so you chose to suck it up.

“Why’d you do that?” George started talking as you fetched his wand and used it to prepare the table using magic, “it was my mouth’s fault, anyway, you told me you're arriving at six, it's not six yet” you answered and watched the floating plates and utensils. 

“I was trying my best not to laugh dove, please don’t do that again in front of your parents, I might lose goodie points, and I meant six minutes not six o'clock” he chuckled as he hugged you from the back, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his chin on the top of your head. 

“Even if you lose goodie points, I’ll still love you don’t worry” you faced him and cupped his face, his face that was always as perfect, those freckles that can make a constellation, his eyes that you would prefer to look at rather than the stars, and his hair that would always stand out. 

It was like a magnetic pull, your faces was slowly getting nearer and nearer, almost there, the finish line, his lips onto yours, inches turned to an inch, heartbeats getting fast, and you can feel his breath, then his soft lips was supposed to be next 

Not until someone cleared their throat that made you push George out of reflex. 

“No snogging in this house, you understand that angel?” Sirius crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, “Yes dad” you replied, slightly embarrassed so you chose to continue to prepare the table while George can’t maintain eye contact with you or anyone in the room. 

“Sorry dad” you walked to Sirius who was still in the entrance of the kitchen, surprisingly he smiled at you, “Yeah that’s for bullying me” he wrapped his arms over your shoulder “But about that almost kiss? I’m not mad don’t worry, we all kiss someone at some time” he added like it was just common sense for him to not get mad.

“I love you” you said out of the blue while you two watched Remus and George laughing at the dinner table, you rested your head on his chest, “I love you more princess” you felt him kiss the top of your head. 

“Just walk with the boy outside while we clean here alright?” Remus looked at you and George, he tapped George’s shoulder before he turned his back to the both of you and be with Sirius who was still drinking wine at the table. 

“Come on” George called you and touched your back to guide you, your eyes were still looking at your parents, mesmerized by their strong bond. 

“Georgie?” you tried to get his attention while you two walked the dim lighted streets, only the flickering lamp posts and the moon were the sources of light. 

“Hmm?” he was busy playing your hand, touching every bit of it, and even comparing it to his. “You think we would be like them?” you stopped on your tracks, feeling the night summer breeze brushing your skin, "Like who love?" He stared at you, now holding your hand firmly, "Sirius and Remus" you answered and tucked the few strands of hair that was bothering your face because of the wind,  you looked at his eyes and saw amusement and adoration all over it.

“You’re asking me that?” a lopsided smile appeared on his face, you nodded slightly as an answer, “You’re thinking of marrying me?” he asked you again, now giving a full smile, you nodded again, “You," he pointed to you "want a future with me?” he pointed to himself, his eyes smiling the same as his lips, you nodded again, oblivious of how that made George’s inner monologues that was doubting what would happen with the both of you disappear, because who wouldn’t, you’re Y/N, raised by two amazing people, you’re beautiful, intelligent, bold, and many more that he would even consider you as perfect. 

And you’re here, saying that you wanted a future with him. 

Now, with the moon smiling at the both of you, the stars being your cheerleaders, your lips met, you hooked your arms around his neck while he cups your face with one hand and the other holding your waist. 

At this night, two teenagers shared a kiss under a lamp post, during the summer of 1995. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Learn to Fly

CW: Self-loathing, some internalized victim-blaming, references to parental death and grief, VERY vague reference to past noncon once or twice

Note: I made a decision to switch a little of the timeline around, so Laken and Chris’s breakup at this point happens after the original conversations about the Speak Out Arc start happening but before the Olympics themselves. I’m folding this bit into the larger Speak Out Arc.

Follows Time Apart and It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped

-

He curls up on the couch in the coffeeshop, sipping something warm he barely tastes. It might have coffee in it - he feels a little drowsy, and that usually happens when there’s just a little caffeine.

Maybe that’s just because he hasn’t slept since Jake was hurt, not really. And he’s slept even less since... since he and Laken broke up.

Outside, there's unseasonable heavy rain. The clouds are low and heavy, a deep gunmetal gray that blocks out the light and has the streetlights on at 9:30 in the morning. The raindrops seem less to fall than to slam into the ground with terrible violence. 

The baristas talk in low voices about how grateful they are for the rain, burying the wildfires outside the city in a deluge the heat can’t overcome. Chris likes the rain, too, if only because it reflects the inside of him, suggests that the world can tell he is a storm within himself and reflects it to him.

He takes another sip.

He hasn’t showered in three days. His hair is dulled with it, like a penny left too long in the dirt.  He’s dressed himself like he used to, back before when he was still learning he was a person and not a pet - in one of Jake’s hooded sweatshirts over his compression shirt, so oversized on him it’s nearly a tunic, and a pair of mesh basketball shorts. His knees still look knobby, he thinks.

He can see the ghosts of the bruises there that used to never quite heal before his Sir sent him to his knees and made new ones to lay over them. He can see a couple of scars, some from training when the baton would crack into the backs of his legs and send him dropping like a stone, some from gymnastics, some from just being a kid.

Chris’s eyes lower, to look at his own hands holding his coffee cup. He put star stickers on his nails last night, and a few of them have already peeled off. Those that remain glitter, just a little. 

Something about the sight of it - the memory of when he put star stickers on Laken’s cheekbones at a concert until they sparkled under the starlight, laughing, a blur of bright eyes and dark hair - makes his throat nearly close, sends a new rush of tears to burn hot behind his eyes.

He has to close them to hold them back.

“You’ve had a hard time of late, have you, then?”

The voice is a rumble, cracked with decades of cigarettes and too much liquor, but Chris remembers it, anyway. At least, he remembers it now.

He turns to look up at the old man, in his shirt and slacks, a bit bent with age. There’s a merry twinkle in his slightly rheumy eyes, though, that shows that a young man is still there, under an old man’s experiences. There’s a slight smile on his face, warm and welcoming. 

Chris swallows, struggling to find the words. They flit away from him, he has to chase them down, but eventually he manages to clear his throat and says, “I, I, um. I know you. You, you, you knew my dad.”

“I did, at that. Worked with him for years.” The old man settles onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space, a nice wide berth for safety. “What’s got you looking like a television commercial for depression, hm, Tristan?”

No one calls him that. 

Chris feels his heart twist, a little. 

By the time they saw the meteor, Tris, it was already too late for anything but a blink or two. When it touched down into land, it was so big the end of it was still in space. Can you imagine anything so big? Can you?

No, Dad.

 The earthquakes alone would have been immense thousands of miles away. Imagine, you’re eating leaves, living your life, and you see a shadow - and then in an instant, the world is shaking and you’re breathing glass. How does life go on after that?

I, I, I don’t know, um, um... how how does it?

It just does. That’s what’s amazing, Tris. It just goes on.

“Nothing. I, I, I broke up with my, my partner is all.”

“Hm, that nice young person who comes with you to the shops?” The old man nods, slowly. He’s got his own cup of coffee, plain black, steaming gently into the air-conditioning. Outside, the rain creates a curtain that walls them off from everything else. Chris can’t even see all the way across the street. He can barely see a woman with an umbrella racing from her car into the nail salon place off to the side. 

“Yeah, them. I’m, um. It wasn’t anything they they they did.”

It’s something I did.

It’s something I am.

It’s something I’ll never stop being.

“Well, breakups do happen now and again. Usually the one who does the leaving isn’t the one who does the moping about and staring at rain, though.”

“I didn’t want to.” Chris sits back, keeping his coffee cup in one hand. The other drops to his stomach, to tap, soothing his nerves at being so close to a man he knows and doesn’t-know. His memories are there, fuzzy and hazy from being overwritten by fear and pain, but they’re there. He knows this man, Mr. Malley, who would watch him sometimes when his parents went out, or when his father needed to stop by work.

The memories are there, but they still hurt. 

His head starts to throb, a pulsing pain behind his temples. 

“I didn’t-... I, I love them, I d-didn’t want to.”

“Well, now, that’s a conundrum, isn’t it? Are you moving, then, Tristan?”

It hurts to hear his name, but it hurts in a way that feels good. He was that person, too, before he was Chris. He hums, low under his breath. “No. I, I, I just… you know, um, I’m just. I’m… hard. Difficult. To, to, to, to be with, to, um, to-... there’s a bunch wrong with-... with me.”

“You sound like your dad.” Mr. Malley laughs, a deep chuckle that rumbles more in his chest than out of his throat. “You know that? You sound just like him.”

Chris ignores the pain in his head and he turns, now, to look fully at Mr. Malley, blinking rapidly. “My, my, my dad?”

“Yep. Paul was a good man, and a good dad, but before he was that he was a scared boy with a baby on the way and a plan that might not work.” Mr. Malley sighs. “A scared boy who’d always had it a little rough, trying to make the world work for him when it did nothing but work against him. You were always his spitting image. He’d probably be tickled to see you still are.”

There is a sense, in Chris’s mind, of a blurry man with short red hair, sitting near him but not quite touching him, speaking with animation about how there are dinosaurs that lived closer to human beings than they did to other dinosaurs.

He remembers a man whose eyes sparkled with animated focus when he talked about the world millions of years ago, who loved him by sharing the information he held within his own mind.

He and his dad had understood each other, in ways that no one else did but his mother, and Chris was beginning to see that it had been her determination to know him that had fueled his mother’s actions, her endless support. The same way Jake and Nat were determined, and stubborn, and kept trying even when they got it wrong. 

Everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean they aren’t trying. 

Maybe he got it wrong.

“He never broke up with your mom, but oh, he thought about it. You know, when he came to work with us, he had a plan. But plans… they have a way of going off the road and into a ditch. He worried he couldn’t make it work, he worried that it would be too hard for Ronnie to be with him and have a child, too.”

Ronnie.

Chris’s throat closes up, and he closes his eyes. 

All right, Tris, I got you these so the noise won’t bother you so much. We’re going to have a good day at the parade, okay?

“Her family never liked him, for one. That’s a rough spot to be in, I think.” Mr. Malley is quiet for a moment, sipping his coffee and watching the rain fall. “Ronnie didn’t see it that way, of course. That woman was a freight train and God help anyone who got in the way. My late wife, God rest her soul, helped Ronnie with some things when her own family wouldn’t. She’d come over big as a house, eyes sparkling. You were a kicker, she used to say, kept her up all hours of the night. Just a girl, still, your mom, but she had a steel spine and she wasn’t going to live any life but the one she wanted. But your dad… he worried, that it would be too hard on her.”

“Having, um, having me would?”

“No. Having him. Paul was a smart man, you know. He knew his job would be trouble. He gave her chance after chance to go, if she wanted. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? She didn’t.”

Chris looks at his phone, lying on the little table in front of the couch. There’s some text messages he hasn’t looked at. Couple of voicemails he hasn’t listened to. 

“Maybe he, he, he didn’t want to keep hurting her,” Chris whispers. 

“Hurt’s a part of living, lad, take it from someone who’s given out his fair share of it and more.” Mr. Malley hums. Outside, a car pulls up, almost bumping the curb. “Perhaps you’re meant to separate from your young partner, Tristan, perhaps not. It’s like I told your dad, way back in the Stone Age. You choose if you love someone, to be sure, but they choose if they love you back. You can’t decide that for them.”

“But, but I’m-... but, but I’ve been… what I am, it’s-”

“I know what you’ve been made to do,” Mr. Malley says gently. “You don’t have to explain, lad. We knew.”

Chris’s lips tremble. He doesn’t want his coffee any longer. He sets it down next to his phone, on the little table. The baristas talk quietly about a date that one went on the night before, there’s a low sound of machinery. It all filters into Chris’s mind, a cacophony of sound he picks apart or doesn’t. Right now it’s hard for him to think around all the sound, but he tries. “Then, then, then why… if you knew, um, why… didn’t you-”

He can’t finish the question. 

Why didn’t you save me from it?

“We couldn’t. It’s shite, is what it is, but we couldn’t. And by the time we could, you were with that nice young man who you live with now. I’m sorry for the time you lost, Tristan, and sorrier still I can’t give it back to you somehow. You’re your dad’s child through and through, but you’ve got your mother in you, too. You know what Ronnie did when there was something she couldn’t get through?”

Chris turns to look at this man, who knew his mother and father in ways he never could have. He swallows. “What?”

“She went over it. Or around it. Or blew it to smithereens and went through the wreckage. Whatever it took. They tried to kick you out of school when you were a wean, she fought them ‘til they realized they’d never win against her. They tried to tell her you wouldn’t read, she told them to go, well, to go sit on a thing or two and not to tell her what her boy could or couldn’t do.”

Chris thinks of Nat sitting next to him on the floor, patiently encouraging him to keep trying to turn the letters into words, despite his headaches, his tears, his certainty he’d never get reading back.

You will, Chris. I know you will. Just keep fighting for it. They won’t take anything from you forever, I won’t let them and you won’t let them either.

Don’t let them keep you from yourself.

“They told her she’d never have a happy life, having a wee one so young, but she built that happy life anyway with her own two hands and dared anyone to try and knock it down.”

“Someone… some, someone did, though.” The gunshots, his mother’s eyes going dull and blank, her whispered I love you so much, Tris…

“Sure. Yes.” Mr. Malley’s expression goes serious, and sad. “But it took breaking into her house at midnight and bullets to stop her. You’ve got plenty of your mom in you, lad. Plenty of your dad, too, he was always a stubborn git himself. Do you love this person you’ve broken up with? Hm?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation, even though his voice shakes and his heart races. “I, I, I do. That’s, that’s why I don’t want to-to keep hurting them by, by, by by being messed up from what, um, from what happened to me, I don’t… I don’t want to keep h-hurting them-”

“Let them decide how they feel about that,” Mr. Malley says, voice gentle and low. “Plenty of people are hurt and find their way forward together after.”

Jake and Kauri, laughing in the kitchen as Jake spins Kauri around in a circle, dips him backwards, presses a kiss to his nose that has him giggling. 

Antoni at the stove, sighing but with a smile on his face, watching them. Being pulled into the hug not quite against his will, all three of them laughing then. Kauri bright and sparkling, Jake a deeper harmony, Antoni soft and genuine. 

“Maybe it won’t last, maybe it will - but don’t let a hard past keep you from the people who love you. I’ve seen many ruined by believing you may only be loved if you’ve no pain inside you. We’ve all got pain, lad. Carrying it together’s a sight easier than trying to go it alone.”

From the car parked right outside, an elderly man unfolds himself, opening an umbrella to shield from the driving rain. Mr. Malley looks up and smiles. “Ah, right on time, must be ten sharp. That’ll be Cilly. D’you remember Cilly, lad?”

Chris looks as the man shuffles his way inside, pushing open the door. The little bell over the top jingles and the baristas cut off their conversation, standing up straight to call out a familiar greeting to a regular customer. 

He squints.

“Not… not very well,” He confesses, a little ashamed.

“Ah, well, that’s not a problem. He and I’ve known each other a long time. I was an angry man for a while after my wife died, you know. Seemed a crime that I should outlive her, when Christa deserved to live to a hundred and six if she so wished. Cilly helped me carry that anger when I needed to be angry, and he helped me put it down later on.” 

He gives a wave to the man - to Cilly - who looks at Chris and then back to Mr. Malley with clear surprise, then heads towards the counter to make his own order. 

“Be angry, Tristan,” Mr. Malley says, a little heavily, leaning over to him on the leg as he pushes himself, with a grunt of effort to his feet. “You may need your anger, in the days ahead. But if you’ve a love to help you carry it, who wants to help you carry it and who will be angry right there with you, and you love them back… well… don’t let the wickedness of others keep you from the happiness you could have. You’ll be a poorer person for it.”

Mr. Malley walks away without another word, leaving Chris by himself again on the couch, tapping at his stomach, thinking. He keeps looking at his phone, thinking about all the texts he hasn’t read, the way he’s refused to call them back when Laken kept trying to reach him.

He leans over to reach out.

He stops, hand hovering just above the plastic with its colorful case, the sensory sticker on the back of it that Laken had bought him. 

What happened after all the dinosaurs died, Tristan?

I, I, I don’t know, Dad.

Trick question, buddy. They didn’t. Paul’s eyes, bright and vibrant, gesturing to a bird in a tree nearby. Nothing stays the same and lives forever except alligators and sharks.

Right because, because they’re perfect.

Exactly. Dinosaurs died, sure, but they didn’t die, too. They just changed to suit the world after the one they knew how to live in was gone. Imagine, Tris. 

Imagine what?

Imagine the world destroyed and in darkness, buried in ash. Everything you know is gone, ruined, wrecked beyond repair. And imagine… imagine that you learn to eat seeds and little mice instead of big animals and leaves. Imagine you become smaller and smaller. Imagine that your arms turn to wings, that your bones hollow out to carry you higher above the piles of ash that turn to grass and to life again.

What? I, I, I don’t, um, I don’t understand-... Dad, um, I don’t, I don’t... know what you mean.

Right, sorry. Just... imagine you’re a dinosaur.

He’d laughed. Okay.

Now imagine your dinosaur family is gone, and you have to become something else. What do you become? Being a dinosaur means dying, right?

Um. Right.

So imagine that you look at death and say, no thanks. No, you’re not going to be over. This isn’t it for you. Even a meteor the size of the entire sky can’t end you. Instead of dying out, no, you look at history, at geological time, and you say…

Paul had trailed off.

Say what? What, what do I say?

Don’t tell your mom but-... you look at the end of the world and you say... fuck this, I’m going to learn to fly.

Chris picks up his phone, finds Laken’s name and photo in his contacts. It’s a photo of the two of them together, Chris and Laken smiling and laughing as he smears whipped cream on their nose and they smear a cross of fluffy white into his forehead. 

He dials.

They pick up on the third ring.

“Chris? Oh my God, Chris, are you okay? Are you-... are you okay, baby?” Their voice shakes, and he closes his eyes. 

This time, he lets the tears slip out and run down his face. “H-Hey, Laken, um, I, I, I-... I’m… I wondered if you, um, if you could, uh… are you busy?”

“Am I-... Chris, where are you?”

“The, um, the coffeeshop-”

“I’m on my way. Don’t you dare fucking move.”

At their usual table, at their usual time, Cilly and Sean Malley start to talk amicably about the week ahead. But he keeps an eye on Paul’s boy, where he speaks a few sentences and then hangs up the phone, looking out the window at the rain.

It’s twenty minutes before a new car pulls up outside, and umbrella-less, the partner Sean has seen with Tristan before comes racing inside, a blur of black clothes and black hair and brown skin. Paul’s boy stands, and his partner throws themself at him so hard the two of them fall backwards onto the couch.

They start laughing, and shortly after to cry. 

Their hands come up to either side of Tristan’s face, and they lean forward to kiss the scar on his forehead. He can’t hear what they say to each other, but he doesn’t need to. 

Ronnie, he thinks, would like this spitfire person that Paul’s boy is so in love with. 

That’s one wrong put right, at least for the moment.

One more to go.

Sean smiles and sips his cooling coffee.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

Just Go On from Kimmy Schmidt

[tooinlovewithfictionalpeople]

The Five times She met the Hargreeves- Five Hargreeves

Plot: Fives wife has been looking for him for ages, and she is not so happy about it, although she meets his fellow siblings along the way (Fluff and cuteness mainly)

Cammie was dangerous. In-fact she was well known for being the most ruthless assassin the commission has. Her abilities made her quick, her training made her agile, he mind made her strong. She never played by the rules. But if you saw under the fact she could kill you within the blink of an eye, she was a sweetheart. Her heart was made of gold, she was soft and kind the kind of girl thought to be made of honey and glass. 

However, not playing by the rules, lead the Handler to become fed up with the bright bubbly girl so she threw her to the end of the world with nothing to ‘harden’ her up. Unfortunately for the Handler that is how Camille Winters met Five Hargreeves and the two became inseparable - unstoppable - the perfect duo.

There were moments where Cammie was willing to murder Five Hargreeves, and that was the day he got the equations wrong.

                                                           ***

It was a cold Thursday night when Allison Hargreeves was talking with her friends about the revolution in the hair salon. It was like any other day.

Until  - with a loud crash, the door was thrust open. Everyone jumped to their feet, standing in a defensive position.

In the door frame stood a girl, who looked to be in her teens. Her face was unreadable as she spoke in a clear commanding voice.

“I’m Cammie. Man over the road called the cops on ya love. I’d disperse the mothers meeting”

Allison never got to thank her, she was gone as quick as she came.

                                                        ***

Klaus as never one for constant socialising, which is why he was sat in an empty coffee shop with Ben sat opposite him. He didn’t notice the girl in a waitress uniform stand next to him until she spoke.

“Im Cammie, you want anything else Mister?”

Klaus looked up, to see a teen girl staring back at him with an unreadable expression.

“Are you not a little young to be of the working class my dear?” he asked absentmindedly. Ben rolled his eyes.

The girl smiled. “Im way older then you would believe darling,” she turned to where Ben was sat, seemingly invisible to anyone but Klaus. “And what about you hot stuff?” she smirked.

Klaus lifted his head from his arms “You can see him?” he asked

“No one ever comes in here darling, I think I’d notice not one but two cuties when they walk in,”

Ben sent an awkward smile “No thank you.” he said.

Cammie sent a sweet smile before walking off. She was gone before they could say anything else. 

                                                         ***

Cammie was furious. And that was an understatement. Five had gone through the portal, taking her with him to get back to his family but somehow she was thrown away and separated from him thrown back into the 60′s where she tried desperately to find him. Then, when she awoke to the grimy alleyway she had been chucked into she realised that she was stuck in her teenage body.

She told Five. She told him the equations were wrong but did he listen? Nope.

And now she was stuck god knows where.

Now, Cammie like Five had extraordinary powers. Although there lines of what she could do were blurred she could see flashes of events that happened in the past, present and future. In other words, time was her bitch. But when she saw the flash of Five being threatened by the Handler her blood boiled.

The only issue with Five is that the little shit couldn't seem to stay in the right timeline so Cammie didn’t know when he would be experiencing what she thought he was going through.

Needless to say all thoughts of common sense went out the window when she saw the Handler pointing a gun at her teenage husband. So naturally she teleported to the commission.

When she arrived the Handler was sitting at her office with an unpleasant smirk on her face. In-front of her were two people whom Cammie did not recognise. The first was a man, with long Jesus style hair and tan skin. He had tan skin and wore a shocked expression. The other was a woman with shoulder length dark hair and wide brown eyes. The Handler did not seem even slightly surprised and Cammie’s sudden appearance.

“Cammie dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked smiling.

“Why the HELL is my husband?” She growled, eyes narrowing into slits. The Handler rolled her eyes.

“Ah yes. Don’t worry he’s a free man, still trying to stop what cannot be stopped..I must say you do look better at this age than you did two weeks ago”

Cammie rolled her eyes, looking at the two people next to her, who were staring in shock.

“I told him.” Cammie said angrily. “I told him the equations were wrong. But my husband thought he was right.”

Cammie picked up a Vase and threw it against the bookshelf so it shattered into a million pieces. “BECAUSE FIVE HARGREEVES NEVER FUCKING LISTENS”  

The Handler didn’t even blink, but the man in the chair with the Jesus hair spoke up “Hold on a minuet, Five Hargreeves is your husband? The bastard managed to get married??”

Cammie laughed. “And how would you know him?”

The man paused for a moment, “Im his brother, Deigo”

Cammie rolled her eyes, “Tell me, was he always a little shit?”

“Yes,”

The Handler stood up, picking up a gun and pointing it at Cammie who didn’t seem even slightly fazed at the fact her life was being threatened. By now it was a common occurrence. “What do you want Cammie?” she said

“Where. Is. My. Husband.” she seethed

Diego spoke up “Last I heard he was with a Man called Elliot, down an alleyway”

Cammie turned to face him “How come your’e more helpful in a second than Five has been his entire life?”

“Tell me, do you flirt with all the Haregreeve siblings?” The Handler sneered.

Cammie laughed “She’s just salty Five chose me and not her.”

The Handler raised her weapon firing multiple times but it was too late. In a flash of blue light Cammie was gone.

“Five got Married?”

                                                          ***

Five and Luther were having a nice little conversation about the poor dead Elliot in the chair when they saw a flash of blue light which seemed to be emitting a lot of crashing sounds and swearing coming from the balcony below them.

“Shit. Its the commission get down.” Five whispered to Luther who decided to do as he was told.

“How have they found us?”

Five sighed running his hands through his hair in frustration as he peeked behind the sofa. “I don’t know, but they are dangerous so be careful.”

“FIVE HARGREEVES I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ARE HERE I AM GOING TO WRING YOUR NECK AND STAB YOUR EYES OUT WITH SPOONS”

“How many enemies do you have??” asked Luther eyes wide in shock.

However Five was staring at where the sound was coming from with a slight smile on his face. Luther was more shocked that Five was producing a genuine smile than anything else. 

“She’s not an enemy” he said standing up and walking to the stairs.

“FIVE GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I AM GOING TO KILL YOU”

Luther looked at him incredulously “Well she sure sounds like it.”

When Five got to the stairs, he was relieved to see Cammie, standing hands on hips glaring at him with the angriest stare she could muster. He merely smiled back, finding it slightly amusing how angry she was. (And slightly scary but he would never admit that)

As soon as it clicked that Five was in fact okay, Cammie marched up the staircase yelling how much she was going to absolutely slaughter him, her speed not slowing down as she drew nearer

“Er - Five? Are you sure she is not the enemy because she looks -”

Luther watched as Cammie came nearer to his brother unsure of what to do until she ...kissed Five?

The girl had ran to Five and placed her hands firmly on the sides of his face pulling him down to kiss her. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. Her hands travelled to his hair, running her hands through it. 

Luther just stood there mouth open, trying to comprehend what was happening in front of him.

The kiss broke, leaving Cammie still on her toes, face buried in the crook of Fives neck as he had one arm still wrapped around her waist and the other stroking her hair.

“W h a t?” Luther finally managed to get out

The pair separated looking up at the bigger man, who was staring between the two blankly. first of all he was shocked that Cammie hadn’t tried to kill them, but also the fact that his annoying, self centred arsehole of a brother actually found love - and not to mention the fact he had never seen Five as happy as he looked right now.

“Cammie, this is my brother Luther, Luther this is my wife Cammie.”

“Im sorry you are married?”

Five rolled his eyes so Luther turned to Cammie.

“You actually like him?”

At this Cammie laughed, brushing hair out of Five’s face “Surprisingly I do - even if he never listens to me.”

Five turned to her “I do listen to you!” 

“Erm no you don’t. I told you the calculations were off but you didn’t listen to me”

Five open and closed his mouth but no words came out, so he turned to Luther.

“We carry on with the plan, but this time we have her. She is so much better.”

“I still can’t get over the fact that you are married,”

                                                      ***

Cammie was laid in bed. Her head was on Fives chest, her arms wrapped around him, her leg hooked up on his waist. He was snuggled into her, burying his face in her hair as she slept, his arms tightly wrapped around her

The Hargreeve siblings were stood around around them, each with their mouth open slightly in shock.

“Can anyone else not get over the fact Five is Married?” Luther asked

“To a reasonable person no doubt,” Allison continued.

“And a baddass. The commission adore and are terrified by her.” Diego added

“Ben and I would like to point out she clearly makes Five happy. That’s a yay right?”

“Vanya nodded her head. “He looks at peace for once.”

And he did. For the first time in years the siblings saw their grumpy, annoying, pessimistic brother smile, a real genuine smile.

“If you guys don’t stop staring he will kill you,”

[ddeonghwaa]

Can We Fix This? (Jaehyun)

Characters: Jaehyun x reader

Genre: angst, romance

Word count: 5.9k

Hello! This is the sequel of my story “Too Late”. I hope you guys give it lots of love because I’ve been working on it for quite some time! Enjoy!

If you haven’t read Too Late, you can read it here.

“I’ve been really happy for the whole five years of being in love with you, Jaehyun. Thank you for all the memories we’ve shared. I know I’ve done my best for every single moment I had with you in this relationship, so I have no regrets. Regrets… I hope you regret what you did to me and reflect on your actions.”

"I did, I regret my actions so much y/n. Please don’t leave me.”

You shook your head lightly and took a step back away from him. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” You looked at him for one last time, tears brimming your eyes. Tears that looked like fragile crystals, they could break any time. Before you let the tears fall, you said one last thing to him.

“Once you’re done packing my things, leave them outside.”

Your last encounter with Jaehyun kept on replaying in your head although a few days had passed. Breaking up with someone you have loved with your whole heart wasn’t easy. Everything now felt so… empty. You weren’t used to being with your own company.

Never would you have imagined yourself saying that to Jaehyun - who you thought would be the love of your life forever. But things ended up very different from what the both of you had expected. You didn’t want to blame Yewon entirely, because you knew your relationship with Jaehyun at that time wasn’t the healthiest either.

At that moment, as if Yewon knew that you were diving deep into a black hole in your mind about this, a text from her came.

Yewon: Hello, it’s me, Yewon. I’m sorry if I am bothering you. If you don’t mind, I would like to have a talk with you over lunch today.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “What does she have to say?” At first, you thought of rejecting her invitation because you didn’t have anything to say to her. However, you ended up accepting her lunch invitation to listen to whatever Yewon has to say. Giving her a chance to justify her actions? Maybe you could forgive her then.

-

You immediately regretted agreeing to meet up with Yewon because it just made you feel worse about yourself. The two of you went to a nearby café and sat in front of each other. You hated - no - you despised this atmosphere with Yewon. “Why did you want to meet up?” You started. Yewon cleared her throat and looked at you. “Um, I don’t know if I should say this right now, after your breakup with-”

You shot her a glare when she mentioned about your recent breakup. Who in this whole world would think it was a good idea to bring it up to someone who just recently went through it? Especially when she was partly the reason for it.

“I just thought I’d tell you this. I’m really sorry but I have sincere feelings for Jaehyun,” You flinched when you heard his name, “and I am thinking of dating him seriously. I feel guilty because of you so I thought of asking you first about it.”

You scoffed at the absurd statement. Is this girl for real? The audacity to say this to me after what she has done? You thought to yourself.

Tried maintaining your facial expressions, you replied with an “Oh.”

After what felt like a long minute, you voiced, “You can do whatever you want. It’s not like he is my boyfriend anymore. We broke up, so he can date whoever he wants.”

No. I’m still not over him. I can’t see him dating anyone else. Especially you, Yewon.

You bit your lower lips, trying hard not to break down in front of her. The corner of Yewon’s lips raised as she shot you a smile, “Yeah, but I’m really sorry about your breakup though. I knew getting in between the both of you was wrong, but I couldn’t help it,” she said insensitively.

Her apology didn’t seem sincere and you were trying your best not to smack her in the face. She looks like she’s putting on this show to look like this sweet and nice girl that everyone likes.

“Go ahead, I’m not stopping you. But just so you know, Jaehyun really loved me and I don’t think he’d get over me that fast. What you had with him was only temporary flutters, not real love. He only wavered a little, he didn’t fall for you. He remembers every little thing we did together, every single date, every single kiss,” you shrugged and took a sip of the tea you ordered.

“To be honest, I don’t even know if he’d date you because you’d remind him of how we broke up. If you really end up dating him, I hope his memories with me will continue to haunt him and you would remind him of how he broke my heart. Although I got over it already now.”

Liar. You sound the total opposite.

“Yeah but I’ll try anyways because I really want to date him. I really want to give it a shot.”

“Yeah, go for it. You know what, Yewon?” You grabbed the glass of water in front of you and unexpectedly threw the water at Yewon without hesitation. “Don’t you think I at least deserve to do this?”

Yewon’s eyes turned big as she stood up immediately. She was shocked at what just happened and just stared at her dress that got wet.

Yes, this is not a dream. You really did that. You re-enacted a typical scene from Kdramas and it felt so satisfying. You didn’t even know you had the courage in you to do that. Other customers in the café looked weirdly at you and obviously showed expressions of sympathy for Yewon. But you didn’t care anymore. “I know it’s wrong to do that, but I couldn’t help it,” you shrugged, throwing back her own words to her.

“I hope one day you experience the same as I did. I hope you go through the pain I’m in right now because of you.”

“What did you just do?! I know you’re mad, but how can you do that?! UGH!” she shouted as her hands reached for her glass of water to throw it back at you. Your eyes squeezed shut, expecting yourself to get drenched, but nothing happened.

You peeked one of your eyes open and saw a hand stopping Yewon from doing so. A hand so familiar that you almost forgot he no longer belongs to you. It was Jaehyun.

You didn’t know how he magically appeared there but there he was, staring at you in concern. Your heart started beating so fast it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. Your breathing started to get faster each second and your palms turned cold. Clenching your hands into a fist, you tried to calm down.

I miss you. It’s only been a few days but I miss you so much, Jung Jaehyun.

You snapped back into reality when you heard Jaehyun whisper sadly, “Y/n… Are you alright?” Letting out a sigh, you picked up your bag and gave Yewon a last cold glare.

“Go get your shot,” You started walking away from the two of them, not even sparing Jaehyun a look.

“She started it first!” You heard Yewon complain to Jaehyun right when you left and thankfully her voice faded the further away you got from the café. Every second felt so suffocating with the presence of him. You couldn’t hug or kiss him like you used to. You couldn’t even take a proper look at his face without breaking down right there. You wished you could get over Jaehyun fast. Or sometimes you wished things went back to how they were before Yewon appeared. But it was too late.

-

It has been a tough week after the incident and you couldn’t hang out with most of your friends anymore because the two of you shared a similar group of friends. You shivered at the thought of them asking about Jaehyun and how unprofessional you would react to their questions – like bawling in front of everyone because of heartbroken you were. Yeah, you didn’t want that. Also, you didn’t want to make them feel awkward and walk on eggshells because of the breakup, although they probably already knew by now or have caught on.

The following days were filled with nothing but avoiding Jaehyun. You created this mission for yourself to help you get over him fast. It was difficult because he lives in the same building as you and moving out from your apartment wasn’t really the best option now.

One time, the elevator doors opened and before setting your foot in it, you looked up only to see Jaehyun standing inside. He looked at you softly and pressed the open button to hold the doors for you.

But you weren’t ready to face him. You immediately took a few steps back and turned, running back to your apartment.

“Y/n! Why are you running away from me…” he sighed sadly and closed the elevator doors.

A few days after that, he waited for you in front of your class to talk. When the class ended and you exited the room, he took your hands softly and whispered, “Y/n, can we talk? I have something to say to you. Please.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anything else from you,” you replied as you signalled to your hands, “Can you let go of my hands, please?” Jaehyun’s shoulders dropped as he let go of your hands again. He really didn’t want to let go this time, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

You hated feeling this way about yourself. You kept on blaming how you weren’t good enough for Jaehyun, how you were so foolish to end this relationship when you knew for a fact that you can’t live without him. Your best friend witnessed your breakdowns and she couldn’t stand seeing you suffer like that anymore.

Being the amazing best friend ever, she made appointments at hair and nail salons to give you a treat and to just cheer yourself up. You were so grateful for her, because without her, you would have struggled so much more alone.

You felt bad for yourself for not trying all of these earlier, because looking at Yewon, she was so pretty, always having her hair and nails nicely done. She’s young and knows how to present herself prettily in front of others. You envied her for that. So after so long, it felt nice getting your hair done, getting manicures and pedicures in pretty colours you’ve never tried before. It was like turning a new page in your life, trying to start anew.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was having the hardest time of his life. He couldn’t understand how you were coping up so well because he sees you smiling in campus from time to time and it broke him more and more.

He couldn’t concentrate in class, stared into space most of the time and looked so dishevelled as if he only showered once every few days. He even got into trouble for not submitting his assignments properly. He had lost weight because he’s not been eating well after the incident. His appetite never came back and he only ate a little to make sure he stays alive.

Basically, life was giving him shit. And it was what he deserved. He had the most precious human being with him for five years and he took you for granted.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, it did. His mother decided to visit him that week to drop off some side dishes. She usually drops by every two months ever since Jaehyun moved out from the family house to stay in the apartment located near the university campus.

"You look terrible,” Jaehyun's mother said as soon as she arrives in his apartment.  She fixed Jaehyun's hair a bit and patted his head. “Thanks, mum. Really needed that,” Jaehyun replied in sarcasm as he raised a brow to look at his mother.

“I brought your favourite side dishes and I packed more for y/n too this time. You told me she really liked it last time, remember?” Jaehyun lightly nodded as she placed some of the side dishes in Jaehyun’s fridge and put aside the ones she brought for you.

His heart broke when he heard that because he hasn’t told his mother yet about the two of you. He knows how much she loves you and was hoping for the two of you to get married right after graduation. So, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the situation right now.

"Since I’m here, I should go drop by y/n's place too. Let’s go together, Jaehyun. Help me carry all these side dishes. They’re so heavy! I hope y/n enjoys them."

“Umm mum-" He bit his lip and felt genuinely scared. What if you were as broken as him? He couldn’t bear seeing you like that. His mother looked at him with a questioning look, “What?”

He blinked and lightly shook his head, “N-nothing. Let’s go.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but he was curious and wanted to see how you were doing. What if the smiles you had on campus were all just a show? How well were you actually coping with the breakup? Were you eating all your meals?

Jaehyun just wanted to see you.

Jaehyun led his mother to your apartment while carrying all the side dishes she has packed for you. She rang the doorbell, "Y/n, are you at home?"

Jaehyun unconsciously started biting his lower lips harder than usual that it turned so red. I’m finally seeing her after so long. He thought.

Not long after, you replied, “Yes, I am!”

You opened the door and bowed to Jaehyun’s mother politely, greeting her after so long of not seeing each other. Surprisingly, you didn’t look shocked or caught off guard even when you saw Jaehyun standing behind his mother. Instead, he was the one looking shocked with widened eyes. He looked like a lost puppy with sad eyes staring at you.

How much you’ve missed that man standing right there.

You just wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him tightly. You wanted to kiss his cheeks, lips, nose forehead, but you couldn’t. Instead, pushed your feelings aside and focused on his mother instead.

“How have you been, Mrs Jung?” you asked as you led her to the living room. She took a seat on the sofa and softly smiled while looking at you.

"I’ve been well as always. You look extra beautiful today, y/n. I can tell you’ve been well too,” she caressed your hands and patted them softly.

I’m not doing so well though. You thought, but you just smiled back at her in response.

“I brought some extra side dishes for you too this time. Jaehyun told me you really liked the jangjorim (soy braised beef) I made last time, so I packed more for you," she pointed at the containers that Jaehyun was placing on your kitchen counter and you thanked her.  

You turned to Jaehyun, but he avoided your eyes. You knew that he probably has not told his mother yet about your breakup and you understood that. You knew Jaehyun didn’t want to disappoint his mother. So, you just went along with it. Although inside, you were hurting. Your heart hasn’t healed, and it was breaking more every second you glanced at Jaehyun. He looked so lost and unattended. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes but you tried holding it in.

Crying in front of his mother didn’t sound like a good idea.

"So, how's university and studies so far? Doing good?"  Jaehyun’s mother asked as Jaehyun took a seat next to her after arranging the side dishes. You nodded in response, “Yeah we're graduating soon, so things are not that easy, but manageable, I guess. By the way, would you like some tea or coffee? I’ll make them for you.”

She shook her head, “It’s okay, I’m not staying that long but it’s good to hear that you’re doing well,” she cleared her throat and leaned closer to you, “Anyways, I hope you won’t get offended by what I’m about to ask.”

You blinked and slowly nodded, “S-sure.” Jaehyun sensed that something was coming. "Mum-"

Before he could even stop her, she has already thrown her question, "Are the two of you planning to get engaged as soon as you graduate?"

Silence filled the room and you could feel the tension rising.

Jaehyun groaned and ruffled his hair in frustration. “Mum, I told you to not talk about this.” She pouted, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just curious about you two. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my future daughter-in-law.”

You awkwardly smiled without answering. Suddenly you felt as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room because it was suffocating. Jaehyun saw from your eyes how you were hurting and it was so hard for the two of you to be in the same space right now. So, he mustered up his courage and spoke up.

"Mum, listen,” he hesitated and took a glance at you, “We- we broke up. We’re taking a break from each other and it’s all my fault."

Your eyes widened when Jaehyun suddenly said that. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

Jaehyun waited for his mother to be shocked and yell at him for being such a jerk to you. He was expecting his mother to scold you for breaking up with her son. He was ready to face the wrath of his mother and was already expecting the worse. But his mother did the exact opposite.

The atmosphere was unexpectedly calm. It was so calm that it made you feel more uncomfortable.

She calmly placed a hand on top of yours and caressed it gently. "Ah I didn’t know,” she paused, “I’m so sorry for being insensitive about it, y/n. I don’t know what the both of you went through, but I hope you’re doing fine,” she smiled warmly. Her presence was so warm you wanted to just jump into her arms and cry your heart out about how much you’ve been hurting as if she was really your own mother.

Tears filled your eyes to the brim and Jaehyun’s mother noticed that immediately. She knew that the longer they stayed in your apartment, the harder it was for you. She then stood up and took her purse, “We should get going now, Jaehyun. Enjoy the side dishes, yn! Stay healthy, okay?” She smiled at you so dearly and patted your cheeks gently for one last time.

Such motherly love.

You let the tears fall slowly down your cheeks as you greet them out of your apartment because you couldn’t hold them in any longer. Jaehyun saw your tears and his heart broke even more. That’s when he realised, you weren’t doing so well either.

-

Jaehyun sat across Yewon in a café because he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to clarify things so she wouldn’t have hopes of wanting to date him. He knew his heart only belonged to you.

“You broke up with y/n anyways, and I’m partly because of it. You were also wavered by me at that time,” Jaehyun frowned at Yewon’s words, because he knew it was true. However, Yewon wasn’t the girl he wanted to be with. It was true that he was wavered by her when they texted each other daily, but it meant nothing to him.

He sighed. Yewon bit her lower lip and glanced at Jaehyun. “We don’t have to date straight away because I know you just went through a sad breakup,” she paused, “But I will wait for you.”

“Yewon,” Jaehyun started, “Even if a long time has passed after I broke up with y/n and I can date anyone I want, it wouldn’t be you.”

Yewon’s brows furrowed and she looked devastated. “W-Why not?”

“You keep on reminding me of her, so how could I date you?”

She scoffed as she heard his words, “What does that even mean?” Jaehyun let out another sigh, “The only reason I talked to you was because you reminded me of the young y/n I met in high school. So pure and innocent, felt like I needed to protect her always. When you approached me for the first time, you gave off the same vibes as her and that was what made me continue talking to you. You were so similar to y/n.”

Yewon stared at him in disbelief, “What? I-,”

Before she even continued, Jaehyun cut her off, “Don’t be mistaken. It’s not that I can’t date you because there’s y/n in the middle, but the reason I even noticed you was because of y/n.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you weren’t really wavered by me, but only talked to me because I was similar to y/n?” She said sadly, as Jaehyun lightly nodded in response.

“I’m sorry. I’m know that I’m also at fault for giving you hope back then, and I want to apologise for that. That is not something someone with a girlfriend should be doing, and I messed up. But let me tell you something, even if I’ve broken up with y/n now, I don’t have any thoughts of dating you at all. Heck, I don’t want to be with anyone else other than y/n,” Jaehyun took another glance at Yewon and drank his coffee.

Yewon looked so defeated and embarrassed because she was mistaken all along. She thought she could have a chance with Jaehyun after the breakup but unfortunately her plan went downhill.

-

Days and weeks passed as the two of you tried distracting yourselves with the upcoming exams. The final step before graduating college. You knew you couldn’t delve in deeper into being sad because of the breakup because it was affecting you negatively. But at the same time, you also knew how unhealthy it was to dismiss your own feelings.

It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry when you’re down. Everyone has those days. It will get better.

You tried telling this to yourself everyday and it was one of the coping skills that you realised helped.

But it wasn’t easy.

Traces of each other were left in daily routines and you can’t stop thinking about each other. 

Is it normal for every breakup to be like this?

When Jaehyun ate meals alone, he felt so lonely. He missed being in your company where you had lots to talk about. Your happy, cheerful smiles brightened up his days and now he couldn’t see them anymore. All you ever asked was his attention and that was the least he could have given you, but he failed.

He remembered how much of a jerk he had been during your last few dates before you broke up. How dare he streamed a soccer game when in front of him sitting was the most beautiful woman? Too late for regrets now.

When he went to wash up, he saw your pink toothbrush next to his and remembered the times when you were too lazy to freshen up that he had to carry you to the toilet and make brushing teeth more fun. Jaehyun laughed softly at the sweet memory. Now his days were dull. He didn’t sleep, spent all his nights studying for finals. Bed feels bigger now without you lying there with him. He even spread out all the pillows he had to feel enveloped and cope with the loneliness he was feeling.

The bed depicts so much of his heart right now, empty.

On the other hand, you weren’t doing so well either. On the outside, you looked like you were doing okay. But little did people know you were hurting every night too. When you opened your drawer, you saw some of his hoodies placed in there for him to wear whenever he sleeps over at your place, and now he doesn’t come over anymore. You felt hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you shut your eyes.

You missed him.

You missed his scent, his touch, his presence. You missed having meals with him, watching movies together, cuddling, kissing, and just… loving each other. Maybe you missed Jung Jaehyun. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted him back in your life. You never expected him to affect you so much.

-

It was soon graduation day and you made it. You still weren’t sure how you survived university, but you did. After going up stage for the certificate giving ceremony, you found yourself outdoors at the campus, staring into space.

A lot had happened throughout your journey in university and you couldn’t believe that you even got yourself a degree amid the chaos. You looked down at your degree certificate on your lap and chuckled to yourself at how ridiculous your situation was.

Staying up at night while burning the midnight oils were already so difficult, but adding a breakup on top of that? It was the worst. You swore that you almost gave up a few times, but you didn’t want to affect your future just because of the incident.

Jaehyun didn’t bother you anymore after the day his mother came to visit because he couldn’t bear seeing you heartbroken anymore. He’d always just look out for you from afar, making sure you’re safe. He didn’t want to bother you, so you can study in peace. He promised to himself that he would give you some space and look for you only after graduation.

Now there he was, on graduation day, looking for you after the ceremony ended. In his hands were his folded graduation robe and mortar board. He spotted you from afar and his gaze softened at the sight of you. You also had your robe folded next to you, while you held onto your certificate.

With a thumping heart and nervous palms, he slowly approached you. You noticed a figure coming towards you and looked up. Your eyes matched Jaehyun’s and you swear you could feel your heart bursting. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, and you forgot how it felt to get butterflies in your tummy. But your gaze turned sad when you were realised that you were not dating him anymore.

“Hey, can I sit here?” Jaehyun asked, signaling to the empty seat next to you. You nodded in response and moved to the side to give him more space.

He sat next to you, leaving a little gap in between in case you felt uncomfortable. “You look really pretty today,” he said, “I mean, you always do.”

“Thank you,” your heartbeat got faster at his simple words and you felt yourself turning red. The wind blew and you could smell his cologne that he usually has on him. The one you bought for him because you really liked the scent on him. You missed this scent so much that it felt so unfamiliar today. But it was nice.

“Congratulations on graduating. Your efforts paid off,” he flashed a sincere smile to you. You turned away immediately because you knew you couldn’t handle looking at him. You could cry any time now because of how much you missed him. But you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want to show him the side of you crying because you were the one who ended the relationship. You didn’t want to seem pathetic. “You too. Congratulations,” you whispered.

“How have you been?” he asked. You almost scoffed at his obnoxious question because he obviously knows you weren’t doing well after the breakup. “Good. You?” you said in short.

“Not really.”

You blinked and didn’t reply to his answer.

The breakup happened only a few weeks before graduation and the both of you were still broken because of it. You never really had a proper closure because both kept on running away from each other, avoiding the topic. It’s now finally time to sit alone and talk about it. Just the two of you, nobody else.

“Finals really took a toll on your life, huh?” you joked, trying to make the mood livelier. But you still avoided eye contact, and it just made the situation more awkward. “Yeah. That too,” he replied.

Silence.

Jaehyun sensed that you were avoiding his eyes, so he tried to change the topic.

“Remember when we graduated high school a few years ago?”

You nodded in response, “Yeah. What about it?”

Jaehyun slightly glanced at you and chuckled to himself, “Am I the only childish one who remembers what we said then?’ You raised your brows in confusion.

He replied, “I thought we could conquer the world then. I really thought graduating high school was everything,” he laughed, “But you made me promise to graduate university together too.”

You smiled softly at the fond memory of innocent high school kids graduating. Both of you ditched the rest of your friends to go on a jjajangmyeon (black bean noodles) date together. “Yeah and we made it. We graduated both high school and university,” you replied.

Jaehyun lightly nodded and continued after a few seconds of hesitation. “But I also made another promise.”

He searched for your eyes, and this time, you looked into his sad eyes to listen to what he has to say. “I promised you that I’d take care of you and that I’d never hurt you. Your trusted me with that, but I-,” he stopped and let out a sigh, “I couldn’t fulfil it. I made you think of me as someone who would never hurt you, but I did.”

You turned silent as you listened to him. You felt bad that he thinks this way about himself. You never asked him to be perfect, you just wanted his presence in your life.

“Y/n,” he called. “Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can let go of our five-year relationship just like this. Things were so good for the five years, and only a small part of it went bad. It’s all my fault and I’m really sorry for that.”

You bit your lower lips and fondled your fingers in nervousness. You didn’t know how to reply to Jaehyun and your heart wasn’t calming itself down any moment now. You turned to him and caught his eyes. They looked so fragile, he had tears in them that looked like they were ready to fall any time now.

“I was so caught up trying to do my best for you to a point where I lost myself in between that. It made me scared whenever I think of you finding someone better than me because I know I’m not worth your love. You deserve someone so much better than me, so I tried becoming better. I tried to improve but I found myself getting lost. I sought assurance from someone else to make myself feel better, but it didn’t,” you knew he was talking about Yewon, and you nodded lightly, signalling him to continue while you listen.

“I thought that maybe talking to you less would lessen the mistakes I make, but it ended up making things worse. I was lucky enough that you gave me another chance- heck, you gave me a lot of chances and I blew them all away,” he ruffled his hair in frustration, ruining the hair he had prepared for graduation. Your brows furrowed as you stared at his now messy hair. You wanted to reach out and fix it for him, but he continued talking.

“I love you so much, I don't think I can ever let you go, y/n. The thought of losing you completely because of how I broke your heart hurt me so much that it almost killed me. You can call me a jerk, you can curse the heck out of me, you can leave me now, but I just wanted to say that it will always be you. It has always been you. I can never see myself loving someone else other than you, y/n. And I'm so sorry for hurting you. I regret it so much. I’m- I’m really sorry.”

At the end of his words, Jaehyun was already sobbing. He covered his face with his hands and just kept on crying. Your heart broke at the sight and you felt yourself tearing up as well. You extended your hands and reached out to pat his back gently. “It’s okay,” you said, “It’s okay to let it all out, Jae.”

You wiped your own tears and sniffed silently. “I’m sorry too. I should have trusted you more and gave you a chance to properly explain yourself, but I didn’t. I went along with my anger and broke up with you.”

Jaehyun’s sobs got softer and he looked up to face you. His eyes and nose were red from all the crying, but you still thought he looked adorable.

You chuckled although you still had tears in your eyes, “Do you think we can fix this? Fix us?” You asked him and gave his hair a quick fix. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as you asked that. “Does that mean you’re giving me another chance?”

You softly nodded and smiled.

“That day, when you met up with Yewon at the café after our breakup, a friend of mine was there. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she heard what you said to her and told me. My friend said maybe it could help me be less angry towards you,” you chuckled, “And weirdly, it did.”

Jaehyun sighed in relief and a small smile started to appear on his face. “You told her that you talked to her because she reminded you of me?” he nodded in response to your question. “Then why didn’t you just talk to me? I was always there with you,” you asked.

Jaehyun nodded and slowly took your hands into his. Your hands were so cold because of the nervousness earlier, and the warmth from his felt so nice. As if his warm hands were made to hold yours in them. “I told you I feared making mistakes and hurting you. I wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you and I still want to.”

You furrowed your brows, “You’re perfect with all of your flaws, Jaehyun. I thought I’ve always told you that. I love you as you are, and I don’t need you to change any bit of it. I love you, Jung Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun felt his heart beat fast when he heard that. He held your hands tighter and looked you in the eyes softly. “I love you too, y/n.”

You teared up again and slowly wrapped your arms around Jaehyun to give him a big, tight hug. A hug you’ve been wanting to give him since forever and today you finally had the chance to. Jaehyun returned the hug and wrapped his arms tightly around you too. He whispered, “I’ll never let you go again.”

“Let’s go get jjajangmyeon, just like the old days?” Jaehyun asked when you released the hug, “Anywhere with you sounds great,” you smiled and caressed his cheeks. Jaehyun leaned in and gave you a peck on the lips. Your brows raised and he shrugged.

“Couldn’t help it. My girl looks amazing today.”

The both of you stared at each other for some time and laughed. You went through so much together and now, you were happy you got back with Jaehyun. Jaehyun was also elated because he finally got bac together with the love of his life. “No one else, only you y/n.”

To happier days ahead.

It’s never too late.

    masterlist

Tell me what you think of this piece! Your comments give me lots of strength and motivation to write more and improve. I hope all of you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for your support! I really appreciate it.

[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | four.

risk it | four: pretend.

a/n: i think it’s safe to say that yn, jk, and yoongi are all a mess, right? let me know your thoughts, loves! xo

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.7k

↠ warnings: some fluff if you squint LOL, angst so much angst, explicit language, jealousy, being drunk, light violence, spitting (but in a non sexual way lmao)

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Nearly ten minutes. 

That’s how long you’d been arguing with Jungkook at the bottom of your stairs. 

You were the world’s most stubborn person, and most (if not all) of your friends would agree with that statement. And you were even worse when you were drunk. 

“For the thousandth time,” you slurred your words together as you spoke, leaning against your ex boyfriend’s side for support as you stood, “I can walk up the damn stairs by myself. You don’t have to carry me. I’m not a baby.” 

He rolled his eyes at you— hard. If he had a dollar for every time you’d caused him to roll his eyes since you’d gotten into his car earlier, he was sure he’d be a millionaire by now. 

“If you can stand up on your own without holding onto my arm, I’ll believe you.” 

And now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Only, when you did, it made your vision fuzzier than it already was. 

“Well if you’d stop spinning the room, maybe I fucking could.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he dragged his free hand down his face. 

“You know what—“ You were being whisked off of the ground before you could even register what was happening. 

Jungkook had your body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he treaded up the stairs, and of course you were pounding your fists against his back like a child. 

“Put me down!” You insisted, to which he decided to happily oblige once he’d successfully carried you into your bedroom at the end of the hallway. 

“Absolutely.” He gently tossed you onto your queen sized bed, and you let out an overly dramatic huff as your back hit the mattress. 

“Not what I meant.” You mumbled.

You laid back and rested an arm over your eyes after you’d closed them, but you still felt like you were moving in circles. Nausea quickly set in and you groaned, clutching your stomach with your other hand. 

“Fuck you, this is all your fault.” You snapped at the man that was standing at the foot of your bed, staring at you with a look of both annoyance and concern. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook’s voice was laced with sarcasm, “how is this my fault, exactly?” 

“Because if you’d have just shown up tonight, I wouldn’t have tried to drink my feelings away,” you barked out a harsh laugh, a pitiful sound that made Jungkook’s heart drop to the pit of his stomach, “feelings that I shouldn’t even fucking have.” 

He let out a low sigh. Of course he knew your feelings for him were still there, or maybe he at least secretly hoped that they would be. Because after all, his feelings for yours never seemed to go away. No matter how hard he tried to forget you and forget how much love he had for you, it never worked. 

“Of course,” you scoffed, “just stand there all silent and brooding. It’s what you do best.” 

The feeling of being giggly and buzzed was long gone, now you were just an insane amount of nauseous and wanted nothing more than to sleep this state of drunkenness off. You were sad, and you were fighting an internal battle. 

The rational side of you kept screaming for you to tell Jungkook to leave, and you knew that he would without question. Which pissed you off to no end. As badly as you didn’t want to admit it, you wanted him to refuse to leave. You wanted him to fight to stay with you tonight. Hell, you just wanted him to fight for you. 

So, instead of asking him to leave, you asked him a different question instead. 

“Can you find me some clothes to sleep in? I can’t sleep in a mini dress, and if I stand up I’m going to fall, vomit, or both.” 

“Yeah, shorts and a T-shirt okay?” 

You nodded, finally feeling like you’d come back down to earth enough to remove your arm from your face and open up your eyes. 

Jungkook made the short walk from your bed to your dresser, and you couldn’t help but to admire him as he did so. 

He looked good— so good, and you fucking hated it. His hair was longer, just the way you’d always liked it. It was messy from sleep, which somehow made him even more attractive. He’d shown up at the club wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie to match, and that damn leather jacket he’d had for years. And in typical Jungkook fashion, he’d worn combat boots to top it all off. He looked like a fucking dream. And maybe it was the alcohol— no, it was definitely the alcohol, you were sure of it, but you desperately wanted to jump his bones. 

As he made his way back over to you, with your newfound sleep attire draped over his arm, a wave of boldness hit you. And you blurted out the question before you could stop yourself. 

“So, you wanna fuck?” 

You don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but you definitely weren’t expecting to hear the sad sounding sigh that made its way out of his mouth. 

“You’re drunk.” He stated the obvious, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you sat up on your bed. 

“So?” 

“So,” he emphasized as he handed the clothes off to you, “I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk.” 

You scoffed, “But I’m asking you to. It’s not like you’re taking advantage of me or anything.” 

“You know me better than that. Now please, just get some sleep.” 

Of course he wanted to. It’d been over two years since he’d last been inside of you, and if you were sober, his answer probably would have been much different. Sure, he’d had hookups, but none of them could compare to how you made him feel. Not even close. 

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up on your knees to tug off your dress. 

As you did, Jungkook turned around and faced away from you to give you your privacy. 

And of course, you thought he was being ridiculous. 

“Jungkook, you’ve seen me in my underwear before.” 

“I know, but it’s different now.” 

Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head as you tossed the dress onto the floor and replaced it with the old T-shirt. 

“Wouldn’t have to be different if you weren’t so stupid.” You quietly mumbled, pulling the pair of plaid cotton shorts up your legs. 

“Huh?” he prompted, “Couldn’t hear what you said.”

“Nothing,” you sighed, “are you going to hold me, or what?” 

Before Jungkook could respond, your bedroom door was being swung open by a very heated Min Yoongi. 

“Get the fuck out.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he took two steps closer to Jungkook, pointing toward the door with his index finger. 

You watched the scene in front of you unfold as Jungkook, too, took two steps forward— the two of them starting to get dangerously close to one another. 

“If Y/n wants me to leave, I will. But if she doesn’t, I’m not fucking going anywhere.” 

Yoongi clenched his fist at his side, staring daggers through the taller man in front of him. He took one swift stride forward, resulting in the two of them being toe to toe. 

“I swear to God, Jungkook. I’ll throw your ass out of this apartment if you don’t leave in the next sixty seconds. You’ve hurt her enough. I’ll be damned if you’re going to do it again!” 

Jungkook was seething, you could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw. This was about to get ugly, and if you didn’t put a stop to it you were sure to be wiping blood off of the floor and picking up their teeth. 

When you said you’d wanted him to fight for you, you didn’t mean it literally.

“Like I said on the phone, I’d like to see you fucking try you piece of shit!” 

It took a lot to make Jungkook this angry. But somehow— for a reason unknown to you, Yoongi always seemed to push all of the right (wrong?) buttons to piss him off. All Jungkook could see was red, and he was ten seconds or less away from putting your best friend through a wall. You could tell by the way his knuckles were turning white as he formed his tattooed hands into fists. Yeah, it was definitely time for you to step in. 

As you were scrambling off of your bed, still unbalanced from your alcohol induced high, you heard Yoongi spew out a string of insults— followed by a harsh spitting sound. When you looked up, you saw Jungkook wiping saliva off of his cheek with the back of his hand. And you knew it was too late. 

“Jungkook, don’t do it!” You shouted, trying to get to him before he could make a move. 

But you weren’t quick enough. Jungkook had his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders in an instant, shoving him backwards and slamming him into the wall so hard that you were sure there’d be a Yoongi shaped hole in it. 

Jungkook balled his right hand up into a tight fist, ready to swing and forcefully connect it to Yoongi’s jaw. Fortunately, you stood in between them before he could do so, causing him to halt his actions abruptly. 

“Don’t,” you pleaded, the current situation resulting in you slowly sobering up, “please.” 

Your hands found their way onto the sides of his face, your thumbs grazing along the tops of his cheeks. To your surprise, he leaned into your touch and allowed himself to focus only on the way you were rubbing his skin. He hadn’t touched you, or been touched by you, in so long that he was going to take all he could get. 

Yoongi stood up straight behind you, watching the way you seemed to handle Jungkook with such care. It broke his heart to know that you’d never be like that with him. Especially since he was one hundred percent certain he could treat you better than Jungkook (or anyone, for that matter) ever could. You deserved the world, and he wouldn’t hesitate to give it to you. Jungkook didn’t deserve you. He was the dumbest human alive for refusing to marry you. Whereas Yoongi— well, he’d marry you any time, any place, any day of the week without hesitation. 

Maybe if he wasn’t such a chicken, he would’ve confessed his feelings to you by now. Or maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t already certain that his feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. 

“Do you want him to stay?” Yoongi questioned, despite knowing the answer. 

As much as he loved you, he also respected you. And he also knew that you were an adult and free to make your own decisions, even if he thought they were the wrong ones. He couldn’t stop you from getting hurt again. But he’d be there to hold you while you cried afterwards, and to pick up your broken pieces if you needed him to. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking back at your friend as you rolled your shoulders into a shrug, “I do.” 

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.” 

He shot Jungkook a death glare before glancing at you, and you felt like you could crumble and fall to the ground from the amount of disappointment you saw in his eyes. 

“Yoongs, I—“ The loud slam of the wooden door cut you off, and your lower lip began to quiver. This was all too much, too fast. Alcohol, sleep deprivation, and emotions didn’t seem to mix well. 

At the sight of your trembling lip, Jungkook brought his hand upward to run his thumb along it in an attempt to soothe you and provide you with some form of comfort. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft as he spoke, and you shot him a questioning look. 

“For?” 

“For a lot of things.” He admitted, and you simply gave him a nod. 

“I know. Doesn’t change anything, though.” 

He sighed, “I know.” 

You grabbed hold of his hand with your own, taking just a few seconds to admire the way that your hand seemed to mold perfectly into his— like it was made for him to grasp. He let you lead him to your bed, kicking off his boots and stripping himself of his jacket before lying down beside you. 

“I miss you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you didn’t dare face him. 

He closed his eyes, and you could hear him intake a deep breath.

“I’m right here.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing the tears that were begging to overflow to stay back. 

“Would it kill you to say that you miss me too?” Despite your efforts to hide your true feelings, your voice cracked and gave you away, “Unless you don’t miss me, then I guess that would make sense.” 

“Look at me.” He ordered, but you shook your head. 

“No.” 

Jungkook rolled over onto his side, scooting closer to close the gap in between your bodies. You could feel the warmth from him beside you, and you could smell his signature warm, inviting cologne that never failed to put you in a trance. 

“You think I don’t miss you?” The question was clearly rhetorical, seeing as how he continued to ramble on, “I miss you so bad that it hurts, it physically hurts. Every bone in my body aches from how badly I miss you.” 

That’s all it took for the tears to finally spill over and onto your cheeks, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were crying. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his own eyes welling up with water, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. Maybe I should just leave—“ 

“Go ahead!” You shouted, your tears coming out quicker and stronger now, “leaving is what you do best!”

“I didn’t leave you. You broke up with me.” He didn’t yell. In fact, he spoke calmly. It was rare for him to raise his voice at you, and you could count how many times he’d done so on only one hand. It didn’t matter how badly you seemed to piss him off, or how loud you got with him, he couldn’t bring himself to scream at you. 

“What other fucking choice did I have, Jungkook?” You finally looked at him, and when you did his heart shattered at the pain he saw in your eyes. 

“You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who can give you—“ 

“Everything that you can’t,” you finished his sentence for him with a bite to your voice, “yeah, I’ve heard that before.” 

It was silent for what felt like an eternity. When in reality, it was only about five minutes. And it was Jungkook who finally broke the obvious tension in the air. 

“Let me hold you.” 

You didn’t say anything, only turned your back to him to allow him to spoon you from behind. His strong arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body against his chest, using his free hand to card his fingers through your long hair. 

You melted into his touch, humming as he began to dig his fingernails into your scalp to massage it. 

“Can we just… pretend that everything’s okay between us?” you asked, “For tonight, and then tomorrow we can go back to how it was.” 

He pressed his lips to the back of your head and allowed them to linger there as he nodded, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah, bug. We can.” 

Your heart swelled at the nickname, short for lovebug, that he’d given you so many years ago, and you cracked the saddest smile you’d ever mustered up in your life. 

“Kook?” You allowed your arm to rest over his, and he took the lead in intertwining your fingers. 

“Hmm?” 

“Did you… cover up my name? The tattoo of it on your chest, I mean.” 

“No,” he didn’t hesitate, “and I have no desire to. Do you regret letting me tattoo you?”

You shook your head, running your thumb along the back of his hand, “No.” 

“You need to go to sleep.” 

“I know,” your eyelids were already beginning to droop, “sing to me?” 

“Of course.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! thanks for reading!

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[scintillasofbeomgyu]

➷ first snow | c.bg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader (older)

genre/s: fluff, lil crack

word count: 2,5k

you and beomgyu have the biggest crushes on one another, yet are blissfuly oblivious until that mid-December evening.

an: This is my first piece; please be kind hehe. I’m aware it’s bad, but I hope to do better in the future! 

Beomgyu’s teeth clenched down on the chopsticks in his mouth with such force, it’s surprising that they didn’t shatter. The samgyeopsal restaurant was as vibrant as any other restaurant of it’s kind in Seoul – teeming with customers who, yelled their orders to the owner as they grabbed seats at the round metal tabletops and downed the soju in their shot-glasses as they roared with laughter amongst their friends. At the moment, there was even a company dinner taking place at two of the tables in the far corner, and a female customer crying with five empty beer bottles on her table close to the window.

The restaurant was as bustling as ever, so much so that you weren’t even able to hear yourself think; but Beomgyu could not tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

It was the first time in a while that you and the boys had been able to meet up. They had just had a comeback, weeks of promotion and even award ceremonies to attend; so you hadn’t even been texting much. It was safe to say, that the dinner that night was very much anticipated by all of you – especially Beomgyu, who had insisted on the get-together under the pretence of commemorating the younger members becoming adults.

The time apart had made him realize just how he felt about you. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly it was (heck, it could have been since the very beginning) that he fell for you, but what he was now certain of, is that whenever his heart raced upon your visits to their dorms or their performances, or simply just having you near –  it wasn’t from a chronic illness. Thank goodness.

But now he had to sit, watching you and Yeonjun talk to one another the entire night as if you were inseparable. It left a nasty after taste in his mouth, but each time either of you looked at him, he’d flash a smile and either nod, or mumble a ‘yes’ almost as if he were able to pay attention to any of the intricacies of what you were talking about. He was utterly jealous, but there was nothing he could do about it.

To make it worse, you looked absolutely stunning. He noticed everything – the new pastel pink blazer, which complimented your skin; the new elevated sneakers, which made him giggle, he knew how your tiny little self pouted whenever hanging out with them. You had gotten bangs, which he wasn’t a fan of – he saw less of your face now, and you even wore a new fragrance – he noticed everything. After all, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off from you since you arrived at the restaurant.

But when he imagined that you had done all of those things for Yeonjun, it stung.

Taehyun seemed to notice, the dark brooding energy eminating from his hyung was very hard to miss, and a knowing smile stretched across his face. “Hyung, what’s up? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

It took Taehyun having to actually wave his hand infront of Beomgyu’s face before he actually even realized Taehyun said anything at all, turning to face him with a ‘hmm?’ and a distant smile. Taehyun sighed. “Why don’t you just speak to her?”

Huening, who had been deeply engaged in an eating battle with Soobin, seemed to overhear this discussion and snickered before calling Soobin to listen in as well. “Oh? Beomgyu hyung has a crush on (Y/n) noona?”

“Beomgyu? (Y/n) noona?” Soobin gasped, in genuine surprise. “Did I miss something?”

Beomgyu’s face heated up like Florida in summer. He had never been more grateful for his long, floppy brown locks than right in that second. “How can I speak to her? Yeonjun hyung has been hogging her attention span ever since we got here.” He sighed, crossing his arms and pouting a little when you laughed at something Yeonjun said.

“Hyung,” Taehyun sighed, pursing his lips together. “You’re just being jealous and dramatic right now. We’ve all spoken to Noona this evening, it’s only you who have been giving her the cold shoulder. And obviously Yeonjun hyung and Noona have more to talk about, they’re taking the same courses and have the same friend circle.”

“Yeah, hyung, they’ve always talked plenty. You haven’t noticed?”

Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just being silly. Maybe you had attempted to make conversation with him on more than one occasion and maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been as nice about it as he had thought he was. The truth was he was, he was insecure. Albeit he was aware of the feelings he had toward you and wanted to run to you the minute he knew, he had no idea how you felt. So when witnessed how close you and Yeonjun were, it brought him back to reality.

It made him realize that just because he liked you, it didn’t mean you felt the same – and it scared him. He knew Yeonjun was a great guy, who would definitely treat you as you deserved; like a queen. So if it was that you liked Yeonjun the way he liked you, he had no confidence to tell you the truth.

Seeing your rosy cheeks push up as you laughed at something Yeonjun had said again, he lowered his gaze into his soju glass and swirled around the bit which remained. After contemplating for a moment, he downed the remnants and grabbed his jacket off the back of his seat as he pushed it back. There was no way he could convince himself to confess to you. So instead of hurting himself by sitting there, he’d leave, is what he thought.

Soobin, who had initially been as oblivious as you were to Beomgyu’s feelings, knew exactly the kind of distress he would be putting himself through (after Taehyun and Kai had brought him up to speed, of course). When he saw Beomgyu get up, he placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile; meant to persuade him to sit back down.

“I’m pretty sure you and I know that Yeonjun and (Y/n) noona are pretty great, and that if they did have to get together, they’d be a pretty sick couple too,” he said, pouring Beomgyu and himself another drink.

Beomgyu grimaced. “Wow, that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Hyung.”

“Ah, no,” Soobin laughed, taking a sip from his glass before placing his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder again. “What I mean is, that’s exactly who you are, Beomgyu. You’re kind and selfess; always prioritising the feelings of others, even over your own. Yeah, you’re really playful and annoying sometimes, but that’s just how you show your affection. And I’m sure that if you just tried, you’d been surprised at the outcome. Don’t go assuming how people feel.”

Huening grabbed Beomgyu’s waist and gave his tummy a hearty rub. “You’re great enough as you are, Hyung!”

As if on cue, your drunken mumbling cut them off. They all laughed, finding you extremely adorable. Your head, which had been resting on your arm, swayed left to right for about two minutes before finally slipping and falling to the table. Both Yeonjun and Beomgyu stuck their hands out to catch you before that could happen though, Yeonjun looking at Beomgyu in confusion.

The rest all passed glances at one another. Taehyun slapped Soobin’s shoulder, and Soobin sighed reluctantly.

“Well, I think it’s about time we head home. Huening and Noona are out cold,” he laughed, before slapping money down on the table and throwing Huenings arm over his shoulder. Taehyun got up to get Kai’s other arm, and Soobin looked to the three of you again; none of which had moved a muscle since. “Ah, Beomgyu, why don’t you take Noona home tonight? Hyung should come with us since we need someone to get a cab and get into the dorms for us.”

“But why can’t Beomgyu -”

Before Yeonjun could say any more, Beomgyu had already made his way to your side of the table and had slung your coat and bag around his shoulder. He carefully moved you onto his back, making sure not to wake you. You weren’t asleep though.

“Yooou smelll liike......Beomgyuu!” you giggled in your drunken stupor, tightening your arms and nuzzling your head into his neck. The poor boy’s heart feeling as if it could leap out of his chest.  

The walk back to your apartment was silent, but not the awkward kind. It was almost mid-December; around the time that the first snow was expected to fall. People were either already home with their families, or making their way there, setting up Christmas decorations and planning the menu for their Christmas lunch. Beomgyu wasn’t able to go back to Daegu this year, but the comfort of the silence and your bodies pressed together – knowing that you were there with him, holding onto him tightly – it was enough for him.

The sound of you mumbling broke him from his trance, the sensation of your breath hitting his neck sending chills down his spine.

“Hmm? Are you sobered up a little now, Noona?”

Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you pushed yourself up and stuck your head over his shoulder. Realizing that it was in fact Beomgyu carrying you, you huffed, kicking your legs like a toddler so that he’d let you down. Thinking that was your answer to his question about your sobriety, he came to a stop and carefully set you down.

You shoved his back, stumbling a little. “I can get back home on my own.”

He had ignored you for the entire evening. Tonight was the first night you had been able to hang out together in months, but he didn’t even pay you any mind. You had been harboring this one-sided crush on him not long after you had first met one another. And it was driving you absolutely crazy.

For a night out drinking at a samgyeopsal restaurant, you had bought new clothes, made an appointment at the hair salon, carefully studied make-up tutorials on the internet and had spent the entire 2 days prior mulling over whether or not you should just tell him how you feel. It all seemed for naught, though, because the fool didn’t even look at you!

After shaking your head a bit to clear your field of vision, you pushed back the hair in your face and stuck out your arm in the direction of you apartment building in hopes that it’d keep you walking straight. You were good for about two or three steps, before the heel of your shoe got caught in the tar of the road and you slipped right into Beomgyu’s embrace.

“Noona, what are you doing. You’re still a little drunk, let me take you back.” He sighed, lifting your arm up over his shoulder. “Plus, do you have any idea how late it is? It wouldn’t be safe to let you go alone anyway.”

You scoffed, grabbing your arm back from his grasp. You turned to him and squinted, the same liquid blurring your vision giving you the courage to grab his face in your hands. Apparently alcohol wasn’t even enough to boost your confidence though, because after staring into his pretty brown eyes which seemed to sparkle even when laced with confusion and amusement, you sighed, throwing your hands down, before continuing to stumble up the street.

Damn boy is unrealistically gorgeous, and for what, you growled, mostly to yourself, but not entirely.

Beomgyu grabbed you arm and spun you around, with a big fat smirk plastered over his face. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Your face quickly turned a deep shade of red, realizing he had heard you.

“What I’m saying, is that apparently what you have in looks you lack in brain cells.” you snapped, pulling your arms out of his grasp again. Only this time, he didn’t let you go so easily.

“You... think I’m gorgeous.” He smiled, laughing in such a way that you were almost certain it was he who was drunk.

“I just called you an idiot, and you’re focused on that?”

“You could call me Elena Gilbert and although I’d want to hit you in your throat, I’d still be completely in love with you.”

Oh, but how the tables had turned. You rested your arm against a car parked in the street, as a precautionary measure, in the case that you collapsed either from the alcohol or the disbelief. Beomgyu shoved his hands into his pockets and locked his eyes down onto the tar below his feet, lip between teeth and hating himself intensely. “What did you just say?” you asked, half giggling from the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

“I-I mean, I know you probably have a crush on Yeonjun hyung and all...” he said, voice breathy and unsteady as he pulled a hand from his pocket and placed it at the back of his neck. Your face fell and you felt almost completely sobered up now, standing a little straighter. “So it’s probably wrong of me to confess, b-but if I don’t do it now I might regret it, and Choi Soobin said something about me being a great guy – I mean I know, but -”

“So what I’m getting in between that attempt at self-praise, and the numerous attempts which are probably still pending, is that you think that I have feelings for Choi Yeonjun, right?”

“Well you spent all night talking to him, laughing at all those jokes that I could do better.”

Somewhere in between your back and forth banter about how Yeonjun was funny and how you didn’t have a crush on him, little flakes of snow had began their descent from the pitch black sky above. The two of you hadn’t noticed until the fall had become a bit heavier, some of them collecting in your hair. You both fell silent, and he joined you as you leaned up against the car.

Together, you watched the flakes make their journey down to the street, where they lumped up, covering the trees and rooftops in a white blanket. Others had now joined you in the streets, excitedly gasping and snapping photos with friends and family in the first snow of the year. The laughter of little kids could be heard too, running around with red noses as they flung one another with little clads of snow. It was magical and warm, and there was no one better you could imagine to have by your side.

You let out a sigh, your breath making a thick cloud float in the air. “I like you, a lot. I missed you so much during all these months apart, and right now, I feel like I’m the happiest person alive to know that you feel the same and that I get to be here with you.”

There was a silence again.

Beomgyu took your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers as he placed them into his coat pocket. As his thumb traced across yours, he whispered something which had your breath caught in you throat.

“There’s cheesecake in the dorm refrigerator, want to come?”

[limjaeseven]

Mid Summer Dream

Pairing: Taeyeob X Kyubin

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 882

Summary: Kyubin found love when he was young, he makes it his own on a trip to Jeju.

Warning(s): boys kissing

[a/n]: My second innings at tipsy drabbles, hope you enjoy it!

It had been Wookjin’s idea to take a trip to Jeju for their semester break. The weather was calm, the warm summer breeze rolling over the shore was humid but not unbearably so. Kyubin had dragged Taeyeob with him, his best friend being well known for hiding indoors whenever possible and refusing to socialise, on the excuse that he was going to be lonely since the other five were dating.

The flight had been short, just over an hour, with Kyubin sitting in the window seat, admiring the view of the vast sea and the island in the distance. Taeyeob sat next to him, dressed in an oversized sweater and large, wire rimmed glasses, reading the magazine that had been tucked into the pouch of the passenger seat in front of him.

The sight pulled Kyubin’s eyes away from the window, the way Taeyeob’s long brown hair spilled out of his mustard beanie catching his attention. A haircut had been long overdue but Taeyeob kept putting it off, saying he liked the way it felt, even if it was pretty unkempt most of the time. Kyubin knew that it was just an excuse to avoid going to the salon, their local hairdresser having a habit of divulging in rather personal topics which made Taeyeob’s already introverted self, more uncomfortable.

They had known each other for forever, it seemed like, with their mothers having been best friends growing up and passing that friendship on to them. Kyubin had always been Taeyeob’s favourite hyung, even when their friend group expanded from two to seven over the course of school and college. They were inseparable, joint at the hip from day one and it felt like it was going to be the same till the end, at least Kyubin hoped so.

Stepping off the plane, they huddled together into a van that took them to the small resort by the coastline, the place having been a popular spot for students travelling on a tight budget. They didn’t bother changing out of their clothes before they dropped their bags in their rooms and ran out onto the beach. Throwing their shoes into a haphazard pile, they dug their feet into the sand and breathed in the salty scent of the sea.

Kyubin ran straight into the water, letting the wave’s crash over his feet, while Taeyeob stood a little bit behind, seemingly apprehensive to get wet. Instead of letting him be though, Kyubin bent down, cupping his hands and splashing his best friend, making him shriek. Taeyeob huffed at his friend before taking it as a challenge, joining him in the water in attempts to get his revenge. They ended up falling over in the process, Taeyeob landing squarely on Kyubin’s firm chest as sand clung to their now drenched clothes. The blush that coated their cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by either of them, not that they mentioned it.

It was only when Jisung whined about them falling sick as the sky turned dark and the weather grew steadily colder that they broke out of their little bubble, getting off the ground and heading inside to shower and sleep. Taeyeob called dibs on the hot water, which Kyubin conceded to because he was physically unable to ever say no to the younger. They cuddled in bed as they fell asleep, unbothered by the fact that there was only one bed in the room, their smiles warm and their hearts beating in sync.

Love had been something Kyubin knew as Taeyeob before he learnt the word. It didn’t matter when or how it happened, to him, all he wanted was to be with Taeyeob, in any way he could. Even when the younger grew from a dorky toddler to a charming young man and drew numerous eyes to himself, Kyubin didn’t bother looking elsewhere, even if it hurt his heart to see him with other people.

The following morning, Junhyung managed to get everyone out onto the deck of the resort, ordering an array of fancy looking drinks for a heavy discount after having charmed the bartender with his sharp features and soft voice. Taeyeob stood by the side bar that ran around the deck, red liquid swirling in the fancy glass he nursed in his hand. Kyubin joined him, plucking the cherry that sat in the younger’s glass and pursing his lips around it, making him whine.

With a smirk, Kyubin bit into it before picking up the one in his own glass and bringing it to Taeyeob’s lips, holding it up just out of his range, pulling it away as he chased behind it. Taeyeob lunged at Kyubin to pull the cherry out of his hand just as the elder popped it in his mouth, leaving the younger with his hands wrapped around his neck.

“Hyung,” Taeyeob mumbled as he watched the cherry disappear behind Kyubin’s pearly teeth. Before the elder could quip back at him, Taeyeob pulled him close, joining their lips and pushing his tongue into Kyubin’s mouth, pulling the whole cherry into his own mouth and pulling away triumphantly. Kyubin barely processed what he was doing before he was pulling Taeyeob in for another kiss, the two of them smiling into it, knowing their hearts were in the right place for once.

[rogershoe]

Lights, Camera, Action

Part Two

(part one)

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a production assistant on the set of Cursed. The night before your first day at work, you opened your laptop to shockingly realise you’d be working with Daniel Sharman (and a plethora of other amazing actors), someone you’d been watching on screen since you were a teenager. You kept your expectations low, the PAs rarely got to interact with the talent…what was your chance?

Word count: 2.4k

Tag list: @sxperncturalimpala67 @mrsaaronkeener @tinygardensoul @disasterday @5am-cigarette @lancelotapricot @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @slytherlight @18somethingpsyche @ceruleanmusings @glxctt @cavillxhenry @lovelyapplessss @hereagainsstuff @linkpk88 @aliceperdida @weeping-redemption @magicalsaladnacho @lancelotapricot @ineedyourskulls @fandomarstrash

Warnings: age gap between reader and Daniel, swearing, slow burn

Notes: I hope you guys like this chapter! I know the story is moving slowly (both the chapters are of the same day ahaha) but this is the reader’s first day on set so I wanted to make it really detailed! Thank you so much for reading and please leave feedback and suggestion..it makes my day!!

——–

You stood up, dusting your knees to get rid of any residue from the hot tarmac. You couldn’t get the picture of him looking at you out of your mind. You wondered if he would recognize you on set…or whether he thought you were creepy. You started walking towards the door, thoughts still rushing through your mind. Maybe he didn’t think anything of it…or maybe he was still thinking about you, the stalkerish girl that was staring at him…

“Ow!”

Your hand clasped over your mouth as you realized you had opened the grey door too quickly, accidentally hitting one of the crew members.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry” you pleaded, lowering your hand…your first day and you had already injured someone.

The thirty something year old woman looked at you annoyingly, taking off her headset and rubbing her forehead, “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

“Yeah..I’m sorry” your brain went blank as you tried to recall what you were doing outside….

“I was just getting a battery” you said suddenly and gestured to your back pocket.

“A battery? You’re a PA?” she lowered her hand, her expression softening

“Yeah” you said, letting out a breath of relief..maybe she’d know where to find the other PAs, “It’s my first day”

“Oh great!” she suddenly exclaimed, her mood changing..she held out her hand, “I’m the key production assistant, Naomi” she smiled, her bright red lips pulling back to reveal pearly white teeth

You took it, glad but a bit taken aback by her sudden change in mood. Then you realized…you had essentially just injured one of your bosses..shit. How many more things could go wrong today?

“Hey, nice to meet you” you blurted out..the adrenaline from seeing Daniel and hitting the key PA with a metal door was thankfully dying down.

“Has Huey shown you around yet?” she asked, pulling her headset back on

You nodded, “Yeah, he mainly gave me a tour of the basecamp”

“Awesome” she smiled again, “you can follow me” she said, starting to walk towards the basecamp, “I just need to do a couple more jobs in the trailers and then you can get started”

The butterflies in your stomach came alive again… what if she had a job near Daniel’s trailer? Worse yet, what if she had to do something in Daniel’s trailer?

“You coming?” she said squinting and looking back at you..you realized you’d frozen in your spot.

“Yeah..sorry” you stumbled over your words again and jogged up to her. The walk was short, less than a minute…it gave you plenty of time to get a good look at the trailer Daniel had previously gone into. The curtains were drawn over the windows so you couldn’t see anything inside. Maybe there had been a makeup artist already waiting in there for him and he was getting ready.

You forced yourself to stop thinking about him and looked forward at the tens of other trailers. You wondered if any other actors had arrived while you were inside or busy apologizing to Naomi.

As if she read your mind, (these crew members had a gift), she spoke, “the actors should be getting here any second now” she looked at the white watch on her wrist.

You decided to speak up, “I saw Daniel go into a trailer a few minutes ago”

She looked at you, an odd look  across her face that you couldn’t read….you quickly looked for any mistakes in your sentence and realized you had called him Daniel

“I mean Mr. Sharman” you stuttered, hoping she wouldn’t get angry

Her expression quickly returned to normal and she suddenly broke out in laughter, clutching her stomach with her hands

“OH, darling, it’s fine!” she straightened up, still smiling brightly

“You don’t have to call him that in front of me..I was just a bit concerned because calling him by his first name implies you know of him” she cleared her throat and you realized you were at the basecamp..”and knowing of these actors can lead to you becoming starstruck or…. or distracted….it’s essentially a recipe for a disaster”

That was unfortunate. You had been trying to tell yourself over and over again that you wouldn’t.. no, couldn’t get starstruck. As she said, it did seem like a “recipe for disaster”.

You looked around at the multiple trailers, and saw that there were actually a few people hovering around six or seven  of them…Huey had told you those were the costume department trailers.

Naomi started walking towards them. You forced yourself to keep your eyes facing forward, away from Daniel’s trailer on the right.

There was a cool breeze in the air and you revelled in the feeling, the refreshing coldness washing over your face.

“Naomi can you take these to trailer thirteen?” A woman called out. She had curly long blonde hair and wore bright red glasses.

Naomi smiled and nodded. You both walked towards the trailers and the woman who was standing on the steps into one of the vehicles. The woman headed inside and you both followed her. The inside of the trailer was much larger than you thought and was bursting with racks full of various different costumes. You could’ve spent hours just looking through all the clothes but unfortunately this was work..and you had no such privilege.

The eccentric looking woman looked through one of the racks before pulling out a long black costume. It was covered by clear plastic so you couldn’t really tell what it was but it seemed to be similar to a coat or robe. When she handed it to Naomi you saw that it also had a hood stitched onto the back.

Naomi gestured for you to head out of the trailer and you did so, carefully walking down the metal steps. You stopped beside the trailer, waiting for her next instruction.

She came up to you and handed you the hanger that the costume was hanging on.

“Each trailer is numbered, I’m sure Huey told you that”, you nodded, he had, “the number is on the main trailer door” you nodded again

“I want you to take this” she pointed at the clothing, “to trailer number thirteen”, you thought you saw a slight grin dance across her face for a split second.

“Alright…sure” you said, that sounded simple enough.

“Once you’re done, just come back here” she smiled before walking to one of the many people there

You nodded, smiling profusely and then walking away from the crowded trailers.

You wondered where trailer thirteen was…the costume trailer was twenty five so you started heading back the way you came. You looked at the doors and saw the numbers getting smaller. When you reached trailer fifteen you almost dropped the costume on the ground. It was two doors away from Daniel’s trailer. What was your luck? As much as you wanted to meet Daniel, you weren’t ready. Especially after what had happened earlier.

But this was work and you had to do your job and remain professional no matter the circumstances. You stalked up to the trailer mentally preparing yourself, you swore they could hear your heart beating all the way inside the trailer…… but before you could even put your foot on the first step, a woman walked out. She held a brush in her hand…a make-up brush.

“Oh hey” you said slightly taken aback,

“Hey! This is for Daniel right?” she said, a grin plastered across her face. She seemed sweet, really sweet.

“I think so” you said looking at the costume closely…you saw a small label which D.S was written on, “they told me to bring it to trailer thirteen”

“Well you’re at the right place” you stepped aside to let her move off the stairs. Suddenly another woman emerged from the trailer, her jet black hair was pulled back into a bun and she looked younger, maybe in her early twenties..close to your age actually.

“Oh hey, I’ll take that for you” she beamed and reached her hand out for the costume

You breathed a sigh of deep relief and suddenly all the nerves centered around meeting Daniel left your body. You were about to hand it to her, before the first woman..the supposed makeup artist spoke.

“Jasmine, no,  you come with me. I have to show you around the costume department”, Jasmine walked down the steps, an apologetic look on her face. The makeup artist then turned to you, “you can just take that inside and put it on the couch to your left”

“Oh okay sure” you said trying to seem confident. The nerves had returned in full force now but you tried your best to hide them. You hoped your face hadn’t gone completely red. The door had been left slightly open and you slowly walked up the steps, thankful that the two women were now walking away.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. The inside was very different from the costume departments. There was only one rack in the corner and it was empty, there was a small purple couch on your left and a small door right in front of you which you guessed was to the bathroom. But the most interesting part was the long mirror that stretched across almost the whole wall opposite the door. It was similar to the set up at a salon, with a lower long table parallel to the mirror (supported by the wall) adorned with various different sorts of brushes, hairdryers, tweezers and three black leather spinning chairs also placed there.

 In the middle chair, sat Daniel Sharman.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped into the trailer. You were afraid your legs might give way any second. He was on his phone, his hair tied back in a bun…a bored look on his face. You couldn’t help but think about how attractive he looked.  His keys lay on the table in front of him, next to a magazine. You carefully walked towards the couch and remembered the rule about how you never talked to the talent. You were thankful for it at this point….at least you didn’t have to try and make conversation. He was still looking at his phone… had he even noticed you had come in? The clear plastic covering of the robe crinkled loudly as you placed it down on the couch, breathing heavily.

He looked up suddenly, his blue eyes catching yours in the mirror as your head jerked up to see if he had heard. He seemed alarmed at first but his expression softened when he realised that you had only just brought his costume.

He laughed softly, “You scared me for a second there” he said, you could clearly hear his British accent.

“Oh…sorry..” you said smiling anxiously. You knew you were very clearly blushing, you just hoped he hadn’t taken any notice. He hadn’t, he was looking right down at his phone again. You straightened your back, realizing he really didn’t care about whether you were blushing or not…he didn’t actually care about you or what you were doing at all.

You walked back to the door. As you pulled it open, you heard his voice again,

“Thank you..”

You couldn’t help but smile as you muttered “your welcome” and stepped out of the trailer. You took a small glance at him before closing the door and saw that he had a slight grin on his face as he put down his phone and picked up the magazine.

8:20 am

It was almost time for filming and you couldn’t be more excited. Naomi had given you a walkie talkie and also a headset so you could communicate with the assistant directors and also the rest of the production assistants. You had been introduced to one other PA, his name was Louis. He had tan skin and shoulder length curly black hair. Cursed was his third and largest project yet.

He tapped you on the shoulder suddenly. You were standing in the studio waiting for the actors to arrive on set so they could start filming. You turned around, your arms crossed over your chest,

“yeah?”

He pointed to where the hallway entered the studio. Through it came Katherine Langford dressed in what looked like a nun’s clothes. You smiled widely…..first Daniel now Katherine? This day had been stressful and demanding and anxiety-ridden..but hopefully, finally getting to see all these actors play their characters would make it worth it.

Your heart beat faster in excitement as she walked over to the director for her instructions.

Louis spoke into your ear, “When they’re about to start filming, Huey will say rolling into the earpieces… then every PA will repeat that after him so we can make sure everyone on the set knows”

He saw you had a confused look on your face and explained, “only a few people on set have a headset, and the AD cant scream loud enough for everyone on set to hear”

You nodded then, understanding “So I just have to say rolling?”

He nodded turning back to the set.

Katherine was standing in the marble looking room that connected to what looked like a dining area with long wooden tables.

You suddenly saw Louis swivel his head towards the hallway and you did the same, your eyes widening at what you saw. Daniel was dressed in what you guessed was the long black costume you had brought into his trailer. His hood was raised over his head and as he walked into the studio you noticed that he had tear like markings drawn onto his face. Your mind wandered off to where you didn’t want it to…you couldn’t deny that he looked hot.

“He looks sick, doesn’t he?” you heard Louis whisper into your ear

“He really does,” you said, nodding eagerly. You were tired but seeing the actors in their costumes was like a splash of cold water to your face. Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep on set after all.

Please lmk what age you’d like the reader to be in the comments! I was thinking of keeping her in her early to mid 20s since that would fit with the fact that she had been watching Daniel since she was a teenager :))

Part three

[itsunclebucky]

You’re Mine

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Reader

Requested by @rebelfleur22​ -  Okay reader (me 😂 i wish) and bucky  were dating for a long time but they broke up due to the fact that they grew apart but they still love each other, so at one of Tony's parties, bucky brings his new girlfriend to finally meet the Avengers and secretly annoy & make his ex jealous 😂 unknown to bucky his new girlfriend is a huge fan of reader (which she's also an avenger with super powers) and super nervous to meet her. So the guys are convincing the reader to be nice to her which eventually agrees even though she's still loves bucky. Can i please request one more thing 🙏🏻 i want it to be angsty with some sassy reader and if you don't mind having a smutty ending?

Warnings: Lots of angst, insults, argument, sassy reader, fluff, SMUT 18+ Oral sex (female receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, language, reconciliation. 

Word Count: 4457

A/N: Thank you so much for the request my love!!! I really hope you like it. I really can’t feel my fingers but it’s so worth it!!! There are references to One Tree Hill, the dance part was inspired by a clip from the vampire diaries and the argument was heavily inspired by an episode of Friends. Hope you enjoy :)

Bucky saw you smile a lot more these days and it broke his heart because he couldn't remember the last time you smiled as brightly as you did. 

You and Bucky had been in a very serious long term relationship. A relationship that was full of love, passion, trust but in the end, distance. You grew apart and decided it was better to remain friends than in a distant relationship with each other. 

Bucky still loved you very much. He loved you with every fiber of his body. He would never tell you, but when he started sleeping alone in his bed at night, the nightmares would return more frequently. And he would never tell you how many mornings he spent crouched down on the shower floor crying until his chest was physically hurting. 

And it's been 5 months since the breakup. He needed someone else to fill the void that was in his chest. He needed someone to love him again. And he thought his new girl Sima would be perfect. 

She was perfect. With her beautiful long curly blonde hair, her natural eyelashes, her flawless figure. A girl who looked after her nails and spent hours at the hair salon bleaching her hair. 

There was just a small problem. Sima might have been a gorgeous woman, but she wasn't you. 

It hurt more because though you both agreed on staying friends, you rarely talked to each other. He also noticed you had stopped following him on Instagram and though that burnt a hole in his chest, he couldn't find it in him to bring it up simply because it seemed so petty. 

But truthfully, the only reason you did was because of his happy posts and selfies on him smiling, the smile you didn't see on his face for a long time. Seeing Bucky so happy and thriving without you, it killed you from the inside out.

Each day, you had to force a smile on your face just so the team wouldn't worry about how you were coping with the breakup. Everyone knew how close you and Bucky were, how in love you were. And if they paid close attention, they would see the dark circles under your eyes. You were not coping well at all. 

You missed him and you still loved him, so very much. Each morning you would find yourself curled up into a ball on the side he used to sleep, cradling his pillow in your arms. You refused to wash the pillowcase since you could still smell the scent of his apple shampoo on it.

But it was all in the past, and you knew if you cried a river it wasn't going to bring you and Bucky back together. 

You were sat on the bar stool with your fingers wrapped around your hot cup of freshly made coffee talking to Steve about Tony's upcoming extravagant party.

"Do you really think he will invite lots of people this time?" You asked, nervously biting your lip. 

Steve shrugged and looked over his newspaper. "It's Tony." You nodded in agreement. 

"Hey Steve." Bucky greeted as he walked in. His white shirt pulled tightly across his muscles. 

"Good morning Buck." Steve greeted back but eyeing the two of you suspiciously. 

"Oh Buck. Thank you for wishing me a good morning." You said with sarcasm laced in your voice, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. "I'm so miserable without you here it's almost as if you are here." 

"And thank fuck for that." He replied almost instantly with an eye roll. 

You scoffed, amused and sipped your coffee. 

"Hey Steve." Bucky started, getting his attention. "Have you ever looked at your ex and wondered if you were drunk the entire relationship?" Bucky smirked. 

"Ha ha. Well you know what they say. If you're happy, thank your ex. At least I don't have to put up your excessive grunting when you're on top of me." 

"Y/N!" Steve warned. 

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch." Bucky scowled, hurrying up with making his coffee so he could leave. 

"That's enough you two!" Steve intervened, sensing an argument about to break out soon. 

"She started it." Bucky accused. 

"She started it." You mocked, angering Bucky more. 

"You know what Y/N. I'm fucking glad we broke up. You talk about my grunting, but you know what I'm grateful for? Not having to taste your disgusting fucking pussy and having to stick my cock in it anymore." 

"Oh yeah." You chuckled, standing up to follow Bucky into the common room where the rest of the avengers were seated on the large couches in the room. "I'm grateful for not having to fake my orgasms anymore and not having your disgusting shit smelling breath in my face." You barked back. 

"Ohhhh oh oh." Sam cackled from the couch, and immediately dipped his head when Bucky glared at him. Daring him to continue what he was going to say. 

"That makes two of us you arrogant bitch and if my breath was bad, it's only because of where my mouth was moments before I was on top of you. Oh and hey. Forgot to tell you, saw something that reminded me of you today. But then I flushed it and left the bathroom." Bucky clicked his tongue as he took a seat next to Wanda. 

You kept your facade up. Not wanting your friends to see what his words do to you. And you realized he called you a bitch twice. 

You stomped towards the door and stopped to turn around a final time. Bucky's eyebrows raised waiting for your final blow. 

"And just so you know. It's not that common, it doesn't happen to every guy and it IS A BIG DEAL!" You yelled, walking out of the common room and heading towards your room. 

In the distance, you heard Sam laugh and mock Bucky with a "I knew it old man!" 

You should have been delighted. You kicked him whilst he was down, but you didn't feel proud. The insults you threw at each other were harsh and you knew it. And you wondered if he meant everything he said. He probably did, right? If he didn't hate you before, he surely does now. 

Bucky sat on the couch bewildered. He wondered where this sudden argument came from but he knew it was your way of coping with the hurt. Because it was what you did best, to hide your true feelings, you would become this sassy little brat and he hated it, he hated your attitude. 

He was more shell shocked by the last insult you threw at him. It happened just once, he was really tired but he wanted to have sex. It didn't matter how hard you massaged his cock through his pants, he still couldn't get hard. You had told him it didn't matter, that he just needed a good night sleep and you could try the following night. 

He never once expected you to bring it up and use it against him. It was private, and he was pissed because you had said that in front of his friends and teammates. 

Bucky ignored the snickers around him. His phone buzzed in his pant pocket and he pulled it out, his face slightly lighting up when it was a text from Sima.

Sima: I'm outside. Are you ready to go shopping with me? ❤

Bucky quickly typed a reply back. 

Bucky: hi baby. Yes, give me a few minutes.

He left the heart out. He felt weird adding emojis to Sima's texts because his heart emojis were reserved for you only. 

Bucky quickly excused himself. Taking his cup to the kitchen and going to his room to throw on a jacket and give his teeth a quick brush. He then left the compound without saying goodbye to anyone.

He needed a suit for tonight's party. Tonight would also be the night he would introduce Sima to the team, to you. He was nervous and scared. He was scared about his conflicted feelings. 

You sat in your room alone, your back against the headboard staring at the wall in front of you. 

You were honestly not looking forward to the party tonight. Natasha had told you days ago she would stop by your room to give you one of her dresses and Wanda would come along to do your makeup and curl your hair. 

It was a futile attempt to try and get out of the party since Tony had made it clear you could be excused only if you died. Meaning, he was putting a lot of money into this party and it was mandatory that every single avenger in the compound had to be there, no ifs and no buts. 

Tony wasn't even a little bit sympathetic about your breakup. You recalled him saying "at least you'll find a real man now kid." 

Bucky was more than a man though. He was your light in the darkness of days. He cuddled your body close to his when you were sad for no reason. He was never cruel towards anyone. You believed he loved you as much as you loved him. But with his cruel words replaying themselves in the back of your mind, you begin to wonder about that like many other things.

You've been called a bitch many times in your life. Witch, weirdo, freak were among the list of names people had for you. 

You once had beautiful naturally brown hair. Until you absorbed a portion of Thanos's force, and over time it turned your hair completely white. The only thing stopping you from having a breakdown down was the fact Bucky really liked your beautiful hair. He said you reminded him of Khaleesi from his favorite TV show Game of Thrones. And when you styled it. Oh my God. Bucky was a goner. 

You curled up once again on the side he used to sleep. Cuddling his pillow against your chest as tear drops escaped. You sniffled once, and then the dam broke. 

You broke out into small sobs. Your eyes screwed shut tight. 

"I miss you Bucky." You cried out into your empty room. Those words repeatedly falling from your lips. You stayed like that until there was a brisk knock at the door. You peeled open your eyes opened and you were now shrouded in complete darkness. 

What time was it? The pillow was soaking wet from your tears and mucus. But you didn't care. 

The knock sounded again and you groaned.

"Come in." You yelled. The door opened and the light was turned on. You instinctively shielded your eyes from the sudden brightness. 

"Were you asleep?" Wanda's thick accent entered your ears. 

"No I was fucking skiing." You replied sarcastically, hiding your face in his pillow. 

"With Bucky's pillow?" Natasha snipped with a smirk. "Come on girl. Get up, we gotta get dressed and get down to Tony's party. So, up, up, up!" 

You groaned but pulled yourself up nonetheless. Natasha hung a dress on the hanger that was hanging from the little knobs on your closet doors. 

"Get showered." Natasha ordered and you didn't bother to fight her. You couldn't. You were just too exhausted emotionally. 

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

Bucky was standing in the corner of the party with Sima on his arm talking to Steve. The elevator doors dinged open and everyone's eyes were drawn to the three women who stepped out in linked arms. 

Natasha, Wanda and you. 

You were breathtaking in your gorgeous tight white dress. Your white hair curled to halfway down your back, and your minimal makeup really worked together. You looked exactly how he imagined you would on the day he would eventually marry you. 

"Oh my God. Is that Y/N???!" Sima asked Bucky, her eyes wide. Sima was a huge fan of yours. She saw what you could do with your powers. She was there to witness what you did to Thanos before he snapped his fingers. Sima admits you, and hoped one day you would be friends. But giving the current circumstances, she knew that was never possible. 

"Yes." Bucky sighed. Then an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. "Wanna meet her?" He winked and grabbed a hold of Sima's hand as they walked through the crowd towards you. 

Your face dropped considerably when you saw Bucky. Hand in hand with another woman. You recognized her as another avenger, on a different team. Your breath hitched when you saw how Bucky looked tonight. A tight all black suit, his hair slicked back into a tight man bun with that beautiful stubble on his face. 

"Good evening Y/L/N." Bucky greeted with no emotion on his face. "This is Sima, my girlfriend." 

The blonde girl reached her hand out for you to shake but you couldn't register anything that was going on around you. 

"Oh my gosh. It's such an honor to finally meet you." She grinned so excitedly but you just stared forward. Forcing one of your fake smiles on your face. 

"Ditto." You kept your hands by your side and Bucky was annoyed by your rudeness. Sima awkwardly retracted her hand and adjusted a bobby pin in her hair to hide her embarrassment. 

"Y/N. Sima was just-" 

"Excuse me." You cut Bucky off. Marching towards Natasha and hauling her to the nearest empty room. 

"What is going on?" Natasha asked, folding her arms across her chest. 

You scoffed and paced the room. Your heels click-clacked against the stone floors. 

"I CAN NOT believe it!" Your hands flew through your curls and tugged at the ends. 

"What? What are you talking about Y/N?" Natasha pressed. 

"That WHORE STOLE MY MAN. She's out there right now. Hanging from his arm like a fucking lazy sloth. Oh God have they fucked yet?!" 

"So? Y/N. It's been 5 months. Bucky is allowed to move on and so are you. I hate to break it to you honey but he's not your man anymore." 

"I don't want anyone else to have him and I know what you're gonna say. I know I'm being selfish but… it kills me Nat. He's killing me." 

"You still love him." Natasha stated more than asked. A nod of your head confirmed what she already knew. "Then babe if you really love him-" 

"Don't tell me to let him go because that could never happen." You deadpanned. 

"I was going to say - if you really love him. Go and get him before his relationship with what's-her-face gets too serious." 

Natasha was right. But dread filled you. After the words exchanged between you and Buck earlier, there was no way on this planet he would ever feel the same way about you again. 

Right? Wrong. When you stormed off with Natasha, Bucky had excused himself to see what was going on. He stopped outside the door and listened. He heard every word. 

He couldn't believe you still loved him. And he knew if the tables were switched and it was you here with another man, he would feel exactly the same way. 

But Sima. Oh God. What was he going to do about Sima. She seemed to already understand the war he was having in his mind. About making people happy, about doing what is right. Sima knew he loved you still, when they were together he would talk about you a lot and he wouldn't even realize. To save him the hurt, Sima walked up to him and hugged him tightly. 

"It's okay Bucky. Go get her. I just hope we can stay friends." She said in his ear and he hugged her tighter. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Hey, hey." Sima cupped his stubbed face and smiled. "You love her and you were right for each other." Bucky nodded with a small smile. They embraced for the last night and Sima decided to leave the party. 

Now all Bucky had to do was wait for you to come out from the room. And once you did, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you walked back into the party. Only to be grabbed to your wrist and your body colliding with someone. 

“Buck-let me go.” You scoffed, trying to break free. 

“Come on doll. Just one dance.” He smirked down at you. His hands holding onto your waist as you danced together. His cologne was intoxicating, but it was your favorite. “How are you?”

You scoffed once again and rolled your eyes. “Where is Sima?”

“Broke up amicably.” 

“Why?” Your brows furrowed. They seemed very happy together at the beginning of the party.

“That’s none of your business doll.” 

“Oh come on Buck. Don’t be an asshole. I’m not in the mood.”

“What are you in the mood for, pretty lady?” He flirted and you were confused. Where the hell was all of this coming from? Thor wasn’t at the party so it wasn’t the mead that was making him talk like this. 

Could be his hard dick that you found yourself brushing up against accidentally as you were dancing. 

“Hmm, let’s see. Sleeping naked on top of the covers.” You decided two could play this game. 

“That was my favorite.” He twirled you around and pulled you back against his chest and grounded his erected clothed cock into your ass. A gasp fell from your lips as you grinded slightly into him. 

“God, you’re so hard.” 

“Mmmm. And I’m bettin’ you’re soaking wet.” 

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

Your back hit the mattress with a loud grunt as Bucky hungrily crawled on top of you. Nibbling the sensitive skin on your pulse point and pulling your dress from your shoulders. 

Bucky traced his soft lips from your neck to your jawline and down your throat. Nipping and biting the skin before continuing his path down between the valley of your breasts. 

He took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the erected bud and sucking it between his lips. His touch sent electrifying bolts through your body and your arousal was pooling in your panties.

You missed his touch. His lips on yours. It’s been 5 months since you’ve felt him and though you wished you could take your time with him, you were just far too horny for the slow and sensual sex. 

“Bucky please.” You begged, pushing his head further down your body. Bucky chuckled against your skin as his fingers hooked on your dress and pulled it down as he ventured more south. 

“Please what, doll?” He teased, kissing above your navel area before sinking down on the floor and pulling your dress completely off. Leaving you in just your white laced panties. 

“Don’t be a cocky fuckin’ bastard. I haven’t had sex in months and I need you.” You huffed impatiently. He was still chuckling against your skin and you were close to telling him to forget it. 

And you would have if it wasn’t for him pulling your panties down finally and growling at the evident arousal seeping through your lips.

“Jesus Christ baby. Got my mouth waterin’ here.” His large hands opened you up before him, his thumbs opened your lips as he ran his tongue from your warm soft clit down to your seeping entrance. The beautiful feeling of his warm delicious tongue caused you to clench around nothing. And Bucky absolutely loved watching your desperate hole contract.

His lips enclosed around your clit. His tongue swirling around the bundle. Your back arched off the bed and your heels dug into his shoulder blades as he ate you out like a starving man. 

The sinful sounds of your wetness against his mouth and his groaning were pornographic and you thrived off of it. You were so horny that it didn’t take you too long to reach the peak. And when you were close, you were a squirming mess trying to writher out of his strong grip. 

“BUCK!” You screamed loudly, your hands locked in his hair as your hips went flush against his mouth. He licked your clit with the pressure you liked. Driving you absolutely insane with need. A final lick and you were gone. Your hips jerked forward when he continued to lick from the intense orgasm and he drank every single drop that oozed out from your entrance. He watched it with great interest as it ran down between your butt cheeks to your puckered hole. 

Bucky groaned in delight as he pulled away from you. Looking down through your hooded eyes, your arousal soaked his stubble and cheek. You didn’t even realize you had squirted. You were embarrassed, but Bucky seemed to love it.

“You’re too dressed Buck.” You smirked and kept your legs opened.

“That I am.”

You sat up on your forearms and watched him undress himself. Throwing his clothes in all corners of the room. He climbed up on the bed and kneeled between your opened legs. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked on his knees to the top of the bed and laid you down on the pillow you used to sleep on. 

Bucky hooked your legs with his forearms and leaned forward. He teased your waiting cunt with the tip of his cock. 

“Doll, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.” Bucky moaned as he watched his cock gather up your juices. 

“It’s been months for me Buck.” You closed your eyes and whimpered each time his tip skimmed over your tingling clit. “Please fuck me Buck.”

Something in him changed. His eyes turned from blue to a dark brown/black. His engorged tip prodded against your entrance and then he slid home. Both of you moaning at the familiarity of him filling you up. His pubic bone bumped against your clit, causing your cunt to clench around him. 

“Doll. I won’t last if you keep doin’ that.” He warned through gritted teeth. You loved how he was losing control already. And to be honest, so were you. 

Your insides were tingling as your walls hugged his hot cock tightly. It was almost like a welcome home hug, we’ve missed you. 

“Good. I don’t want you to make love to me Buck. I want you to fuck me! Hard and fast. Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy and just do it!” Your arms curled around his shoulders and he growled as he sat back and perched your legs on top of his shoulders. 

“You and your fuckin’ attitude. You want it hard and fast? You fuckin’ got it.” And with that, he snapped his hips into you with a fast and brutal pace. His balls playing ping-pong against the skin of your ass and the position you were in meant he easily grazed your fucking G-spot perfectly. So perfectly that your cunt was permanently clenched around him. Your thick white slick gathered on his pubic bone. He rocked the bed harshly, the brass headboard knocking against the wall behind you and the mattress squeaking under your weight. 

“Yes Buck! Come on baby just like that! Don’t stop.” You begged. Your skin covered in a sheen of sweat as you felt the tension rising in your tummy. “Fuck yes Buck. I’m so fucking close. Please don’t stop. Harder!” 

And harder he went. The consistent rhythmic knocking of the headboard and skin on skin rang in your ears. Bucky angled his hips slightly and that was it. That was where your spot was and he hit it. Every. Single. Thrust. 

“OH MY GODDDDD!!!” You screamed so loud that your voice cracked painfully. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes as your hands massaged your breasts and pinched your nipples. “I’M CUMMING!” You announced. Not that it was necessary. Bucky could feel you were close and he went faster. A few more final hard thrusts and you were coming undone all over his cock. Your juices sprayed over his tummy and he moaned so fucking loudly you could have cummed again just from the erotic sound. Bucky was right behind you, spilling his hot cum deep in your tummy. You were both spent, looking at each other with love in your eyes and no signs of regret. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled out and you winced at the loss of contact. He walked in the bathroom and you heard the water running. A few moments later, he reappeared. His half-hard cock bobbing with every move he made. 

“I’m running a bath for us.” He said sweetly, placing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and reached your hand out to stroke his cheek. 

“I’ve missed you.” You said truthfully. “I cried every night for you.”

“Oh doll. I’ve missed you too. And I’m never fuckin’ lettin’ you go again either.”

“I hope not.”

“You’re mine.” He dominantly said and you chuckled a little. “Don’t ruin the moment.” He warned and you chuckled again.

“Yes Sergeant.” You went to sit up and hiss. The ache in your groin was starting to catch up to you now. “Okay maybe you were too hard.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “I’m always hard doll.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I meant the sex.” 

“Well, you were yelling at me to fuck you hard and fast.” He shrugged.

“Just… take me to the bath please.” You playfully hit his shoulder. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Buck?” You mumbled into his neck as he carried you to the bathroom bridal style. Bucky hummed in response and you continued. “We’re back together, right?” 

Bucky sat you in the tub. The temperature of the water was just perfect and it immediately helped your aching muscles. Bucky climbed in behind you. His legs raised and he pulled you back in between them. Your back rested against his chest as he gathered bubbles on your tummy. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly Y/N. I said you were mine and I’m not letting you go again. So yes, we’re back together.”

Tags: @criminal-cookies​ @jobean12-blog​ @marvelgirl7​

[smoochkooks]

—make it right 1 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jung hoseok/reader

⟶ genre: smut (coming in second part!), angst, fluff

⟶ word count: 19k+ (this part)

⟶ tags/warnings for part one: hip hop dancer!hoseok/drummer!hoseok, ballerina!reader, enemies to friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slowburn, mutual pinning, sexual tension, course language, drinking, hoseok’s hot bandmates, oc rolling her eyes at hoseok every five seconds, some banter and sarcasm, etc.

⟶ summary: he was a punk, she did ballet, avril lavigne sings, but truth to be told, there’s so much more than meets the eye about jung hoseok besides his drums, killer dancing skills and unexplained hatred for tattoos and piercings. because, under the layers of leather jackets and washed out joy division shirts, he’s still just a boy who tries to find his place in this big world.

or, alternatively: ballerina meets certain hip hop dancer slash musician who’s on a mission to win her heart with coffee dates and drumming lessons.

⟶ read second (and final) part here

The first time you met Jung Hoseok, it was raining.

September had just begun, welcoming the citizens of Seoul with copious amounts of not-so-summer-like weather. And at this point, after three days of non-stopping rainfalls, you were convienced that mother nature was trying to drown the whole city.

It was Saturday afternoon, last remains of August were still in the air, hidden underneath greish clouds covering the whole sky. That didn’t seem to be any problem for the tourists though, emerging from every single corner with smartphones glued to their hands.  

You were running late for your ballet dance teaching class with an umbrella in one hand and your gym bag in another, maneuvering between puddles in white trainers, praying to whatever gods that existed not to soak them through and cursing yourself for constant bad outfit choices when it came to weather. Scorching hot afternoon with friends? Let's wear something black, your brain would suggest. Rainstorm? White converse highs is a great idea!

Your mother would choke you with bare hands probably if she saw you right now.

On your way to the studio, you bumped into some old lady carrying bags of groceries. You threw quick apologies, ignoring the screams of “watch out!’’ along with deathly glares that other people were sending in your direction you, until you finally reached your destination. Exactly five minutes before the time.

Just Dance dance school, located approximately twenty-five minutes long underground ride from your flat (which as a broke college student you highly appreciated), appeared in front of your eyes.

It was a modern building, situated in a part of the city that smelled like soy sauce and burnt meat, but during four months you had been working there you got used to it. There was a nail salon on the first floor and tailor on the second, but the whole third floor belonged to the school.

You started working there on Fridays and Saturdays a while ago, after completely coincidentally stumbling upon an offer found online. The school was looking for someone who could teach kids ballet on weekends. A young, energetic person with experience and, obviously, great patience and sympathy for children.

The only thing you were lacking of was background in teaching. But the manager, Choi Jisoo, did not mind that at all. A row of gold medals and trophies sitting on your shelves was enough to convince her you’re worth giving a chance on a probationary period. After few weeks of proving your skills as the best ballet teacher miss Choi would ever think of, you had got in.

And that was how you dumped your part time job at the petrol station to teach kids at Just Dance twice a week. Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons for a decent amount of money for a college student struggling with real life shit called university fees and rent, that even scholarship couldn’t entirely underwrite.

Now, climbing up the stairs with the speed of light, you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to lose this job because of your silly daytime nap that made you run late for classes.

You bursted into the locker rooms quickly, practically undressing in a hurry. After short examination in front of the mirror and fixing your usual mess of a bun, you spared a quick glance one last time at the clock. Four minutes of delay.

“Fuck!” you muttered to yourself, jogging to the practice room.

The halls, usually quite, now were filled with child-like chatter and bubbling. You frowned. That's strange, you thought to yourself. Your astonishment grew even bigger when you reached your destination, spotting a group of kids, your kids, in front of the practice room, bickering with each other.

“Hey!’’ you shouted, silencing them effectively. “Why aren't you already warming up and stretching inside?” 

One of the kids, a little girl named Jiyho, stepped forward. “The room is occupied by some other group, miss. They were here when we came.” she said.

You raised your eyebrows. Did you perhaps messed up schedules and forgot there were some changes? No, that couldn’t be it. “What do you mean ‘occupied’?” you asked. “That's impossible, we've been having this classes every week here, in this room, for three months. I would know if there were any changes.”  

Kids looked at you helplessly, shrugging their shoulders.  

You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, of course it's not your fault. I had a really crappy day and now this,’’ you drawled, pointing your hand at the door to the practice room. “Wait here. I’m gonna try to explain this quickly.’’ you added, smiling reassuringly at them.

When you opened the door, loud music filled your ears; some newest Drake's track you couldn’t remember the name of was playing from the speakers. Inside there was a group of kids, slightly older than the ones you were teaching, practing some hip-hop choreography.  

Their teacher's back was facing you so you couldn’t distinguish if it was someone you knew from the school's crew. His dark hair with blonde highlights weren't familiar to you though. He was swaying to the rhythm of the music, counting the moves.  

You cleared your throat loudly and there was no response. Of course no one could have heard you, not over the loud bass blasting through the speakers. You spotted the cause of your problem, a mobile phone charging in the corner of the room, so you went there and turned off the music entirely just before Drake could sing the chorus.

You cleared your throat again and this time everyone, including the dance teacher, heard you without a doubt.

Kids stopped dancing immediately and turned around, wide-eyed with heaving chests. Their teacher looked in your direction too, and now you were sure he had to be a new employee.

He was not much older than you, probably around your age. There was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead he wiped out with the back of his hand, his white t-shirt with the name of some punk rock band you didn't recognize was slightly sticking to his toned chest. He was good looking, you couldn’t deny that, and there was something devilish in the way he eyed your figure up and down with a smirk plastered on his lips.

You almost blushed under his gaze.

“Is there any problem, miss primaballerina?’’ he asked first, not even hiding his mocking tone.  

You straightened up, ignoring his choice of words. “A problem?” you scoffed. “You and your group took the room where I have my classes every Friday and Saturday, so yeah, there is a problem.”

“The room was empty when I came here, so I just took it, it's not a big deal.” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.  

“It is a big deal. Are you blind? This room is made directly for ballet dances. See this thing beside the wall?” You pointed behind him. “It's called barre. We used that for stretching in ballet. Of course you don't know that, how an ignorant hip-hop choreographer wanna be like you would know.” you snorted, chuckling to yourself.  

In the corner of your eye you saw your kids peeking through the door, clearly interested in this unusual situation.

He narrowed his eyes. “I know what this is used for, princess,” he countered. You rolled your eyes at the pet name he used for you. First primaballerina and now this? Touché. “But I still don't see the point of your outburst.”

You were slowly losing your patience. The amusement in the eyes of his dancing group started to get on your nerves. It was a battle for the life and death and you weren’t used to backing away and losing. You had kids to take care of, rent to pay and new season of RuPaul's Drag Race to watch.

So you picked up a new strategy.

“Are you perhaps new here?” you asked, startling him.

“I am, why are you asking?”

“Because if you weren't new, you would know that there is only one practice room with barres in our school. This one, which also happens to be the room where I have my ballet classes every week.” you said triumphantly with a glint of not-so subtle satisfaction in your voice. “So, can you kindly take your kids and go somewhere else?”

That's it, you praised yourself in your thoughts. You got him, he doesn’t have anything up his sleeve.

The guy, however, seemed very much unaffected by your words. If anything, he was even more pleased, making your stony facade broke in seconds as you were losing your former confidence.

“No.’’ he said simply.

You gaped at him. “What?”  

“I said no, princess. I need ten more minutes to finish this practice and I’m done.’’ he replied, reaching for the water bottle standing beside the wall. “Ten minutes, and you will have your bars or barrels all to yourself.”

You ignored an urge to correct him, taking a few tentative steps until you were right in front of him. He outstanded your height for a few solid centimeters, making you feel even smaller than you already were.

In addition, you hated him even more for looking this good even up close.

“Ten more minutes?! I should have started my lesson fifteen minutes ago! My kids are waiting!” You outstretched your arms in the direction where your group was watching the situation cautiously. They looked like tennis match spectators, turning their heads left and right as the argument progressed.

“So are mine,” he snapped back in calm tone, his lips twitching in an amused smile. Your nostrils flared.

“Miss? We could use another room today. We don't mind.” one of the girls from your group, Jihyo as you assumed, proposed shyly.

“But I do mind! I’m not gonna leave it like that!’’ you said firmly, still looking straight into your new rival's eyes.

“Geez, loosen up your primaballerina skirt a little maybe.”

“It’s called tutu, you ignorant assh–!”

“What on Earth is going on here?” the manager, Choi Jisoo asked, entering the room. She was a middle-aged woman, once a contemporary dancer, now leading the school on behalf of her husband. Her red high heels were clicking loudly on the polished parquet surface as she was coming up in your direction. “I heard shouting, so I came to check. Can someone explain me why aren't you having your classes now?”

You immediately rushed to the manager, taking her hands in yours. “Miss Choi, I will explain everything. This man right here,” You pointed at the cause of your anger with distaste written all over your face and he simply rolled his eyes. “took my practice room and I have no place to have my classes.”

Miss Choi turned to look at the choreographer as well. “Is that true, Hoseok?’’ she asked.

The guy, Hoseok, nodded. “This room was empty, so I just took it. I didn’t know someone was supposed to teach here later.”

You scoffed. “There's a graphic hanging on the wall when you enter the building, you should've just–”

“Silence!” miss Choi said loudly and you stopped speaking, face flushed from the embarrassment of being scolded like that by your boss. “Jung Hoseok is indeed new here, so I will let that situation pass. And you, Y/N, will take another room for today’s practice.”

“But–”

“There's no buts. I’m sure Hoseok will know from now on in which room he should have his dance lessons. Go back to your groups, you are dismissed.” she added and left the room, leaving you to stare at her disappearing figure with wide eyes.

You clenched your fists by your sides, breathing deeply to calm your nerves. “Kids, go to the room 23.” you uttered, eyes focused on Hoseok.  

He smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “See you around, princess.” he half-whispered and winked.

Beginnings are always tough, and that was why after your first encounter with Jung Hoseok, you were certain you absolutely, undeniably hated his guts.

The second time you bumped into Jung Hoseok, it was Friday evening two weeks since ‘the accident' and you were walking out of locker rooms after your practice.  

When you opened the door and heard strangled cry of “Ah, fuck!” you rushed to blurt out quick apologies to your victim. “Oh my God, I’m so–” you started but immadietly shut your mouth when you saw the person who you just hit.  

Jung Hoseok, in his full glory of another The Clash t-shirt (you googled their music your first encounter with him and the only nice think you could say about them was that Jonathan played their song in Stranger Things first season) and yes, grey sweatpants (did he even own other clothes?) was standing before you, grinning in the most annoying way you could ever think of.

You wished you could wipe his smug expression off his face with sand paper.

“Fancy seeing you here too, princess,” he trailed off, leaning against the door and making you roll your eyes like every time you saw him on the halls of Just Dance. Even though you were avoiding him like a plague, he seemed to appear wherever you were. A true pain in the ass.

Maybe you were too stubborn, maybe it was your shitty coping mechanism, but decent conversation with someone like Jung Hoseok wasn’t your favourite part of the day, not after the way you were humiliated in front of your boss and underaged students.  

Last week you walked past Hoseok's group and some of them giggled. You could swear they were already making jokes and memes about you behind your back.

And, the worst of it all, an absolute peak of your devastation, was the fact that even your own kids, those who were looking up to you, started to be more reserved around you. Jihyo baked some muffins because she had birthday the other day and didn’t treat you. Jihyo, the girl who once had told you she wanted to be like you in the future.

But none of this anymore.

You turned on your heels and started to walk away but Hoseok followed your footsteps. “Hey, it's rude not to apologize. My right hand hurts now, you know? I need you to kiss it better, princess.” he called, again in the same mocking tone he had used before.

And that was the moment you decided that if choking people to death had been legal, Jung Hoseok would have been already lying dead on the floor.

You ignored his words the best you could, acting like he was invisible. Avoiding the problem wasn’t the best idea you could ever think of, your mum would say but she wasn’t there, so you concluded it was better to act like Hoseok and the situation with practice rooms two weeks ago had never happened.

Hoseok, on the other hand, had very much different outlook on this. “Are you still mad about this thing with practice rooms?’’ he asked, looking at your right profile. You clamped your mouth shut, staring forward. He chuckled. “Christ, I didn't know you're that picky. Are all primaballerinas like this? Right, you are giving me silent treatment, I forgot. But can you please stop and listen what I have to say for a moment?”

After hearing his last words you actually stopped in your tracks, causing Hoseok to do the same.  

You sighed heavily. Maybe he was right after all. You were a bitch sometimes, you couldn’t handle the defeats well and above all, you had probably the worst coping mechanism ever.

That was not the end of the world, somebody would say. Don't worry, be happy, Bob Marley would sing if he hadn’t died. Sparing one minute for Jung Hoseok wouldn’t make the ground to open in half underneath you.

“Go on, I’m listening,” you said, choosing casual tone of absolute unbotherness.

Hoseok took a deep breath, before he started speaking. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened two weeks ago. It wasn’t intentional, I swear. As you know, I’m new here and you can argue or not but people sometimes deserve second chances,” he remarked, observing your reaction. You should stop rolling your eyes at everything that came off his mouth. “So, I thought we can go for, uhm, a coffee maybe? Tomorrow, after our classes.”

You raised your eyebrows, gawking at him.

“It's all on me. As an apology.” Hoseok added sheepishly.

A coffee? With Jung Hoseok? A hip-hop dancer who didn’t know what barre was? You opened your mouth to snap “am I joke to you?” but you stopped eventually.

To be fair, you had nothing to lose. He wanted to apologize after all, he was the first one to approach you and maybe that was how adults should act.

You looked at him once again, more intensely this time, trying to find any sort of fake politeness in his expression. But in his eyes there was nothing but genuineness. Maybe Jung Hoseok really just wanted to treat you in lieu of apology.

Finally, after a minute that seemed to last forever, you softened. “Fine.”

Hoseok's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Stop staring at me like that or I will change my mind.” you grumbled and he grinned at you boyishly, in the way he probably made people fall for him. Because with that kind of aura he emitted, it was hard not to. Thank God you could easily resist his charms.

“That's settled then. Wait for me after your practice in front of the locker rooms.” he said, while walking away backwards. “See you tomorrow, princess!”  

When he disappeared behind the corner, you muttered to yourself, “See you too, asshole.”, adjusting the straps of your gym bag.  

It was a good while after that day when you realised that some people really did deserve second chances.  

And Jung Hoseok was one of those kind.

Your third meeting with Jung Hoseok was a date. Actually, it wasn’t a date at all. You called it ‘coffee for the peace’. United we stand, divided we fall, they said.

Or to paraphrase Fergie: little coffee never killed nobody.

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the locker rooms, eyeing yourself with contorted look. Your hair was a mess, which you blamed the weather for. Even though mother nature stopped bombarding the city with rainfalls, the humidity was still there, lurking around the corners and waiting for the right moment to attack. You didn’t even know why you cared so much about your appearance. It was just a coffee, nothing more, nothing less, for God's sake.

With a sigh, you bent over to tie your shoes, and then you heard a voice coming from behind you. The same low, teasing tone that could only belong to–

“Didn't know you've been hiding this under your ballerina skirt all time,” Hoseok mused. “What a waste.”

You twirled around with a speed of light, facing him with slightly pinkish cheeks. It wasn't everyday that someone non-explicitly talked about your ass, especially someone like him. It wasn’t even on full display because you had your leggings on and you knew he was joking but still, your face felt hotter.

“What are doing here? You aren't supposed to be here, it's ladies locker room!” you hissed.  

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been here forever, so I decided to check if you didn't slip on your point shoes and died.”

You raised your left eyebrow. “Very funny. Now give me a minute and we can go wherever you want.”

“Watch your words, princess, beacuse I might take your offer seriously.”

He couldn't see you but you rolled your eyes hearing him say this regardless. You took your bag from the porch and turned around to face him with a bored expression written all over your features.  

“Don't act like you're doing this as a punishment. You won’t regret, I promise,” After climbing off the stairs, Hoseok opened the door and you embarked on a street. “This place isn't far away from here, just a ten minutes walk.” he explained, choosing a direction you didn’t know.

To distract yourself a little, you started to observe the neighborhood. It was less crowded here, the usual smell from cheap restaurants was less palpable now. You were walking down the street you weren’t familiar with, you hadn’t had a chance to explore it like that yet.  

It was dead quiet between you despite the hustle of the city. You weren’t used to this kind of silence and even though you certainly weren’t a master of small-talks, at least you had to try loosen up the heavy atmosphere a little.

“So,” you trailed off, “You seem to know this part of the city pretty well.”  

Hoseok hummed, taking another turn that seemed to be some kind of a cutoff. “My old dance school I used to go is here, in this area,” he said. “I moved to the boarding school in Seoul from Gwangju when I was sixteen beacuse I wanted to pursue dancing. My parents weren’t very fond of it, but I told them that high school I chose had a very promising programme for kids who wanted to be business majors in the future as they wanted me to be.”

“And did you do something with that? Business, I mean,” you asked.  

He scrunched his nose. “Nah, not really.” He looked like he didn't want to elaborate on that more, so you didn’t press him further. “Enough storytime for now. We're here.”

There you stood in front of a simple coffee shop like many others. Blue Side, signboard said in swirly fonts and English spelling. There was nothing distinctive about it, just an ordinary place you could find in neighborhoods like this in every single city, but you knew places like this one sometimes had living souls inside, telling their own stories.  

Blue Side indoors looked exactly like the name was saying: azure walls, paired with modern white chairs and tables, grayish cloths adoring them. Classy, tasteful decor, someone would say, but one thing seemed completely out of place: big, framed pictures of sunflowers, your favourite plants, hanging on the walls like on a blue sky.  

There was something bizarre about it, they didn’t match the rest of the decoration at all but at the same time they seemed to fit perfectly. They were bringing strange kind of calmness and halcyon aura to the place, marked with cold tones but broken through the yellow warmth.

Hoseok lead you to the table by the window. There wasn’t a lot of people beside you here, so a young looking waitress with dyed pink hair approached you pretty quickly, handing menus. She grinned broadly at Hoseok, too courteous for your liking, and for a moment you wondered just how many coffees the waitress served him before. Probably a good amount, judging by the way he returned the smile.

You looked through the positions briefly, before deciding on a simple espresso. Hoseok didn’t even open his. Regular customer, you thought to yourself, flesh and bones.

Awkward silence fell between you again and this time Hoseok was the one to break it.

“It's weird seeing you without your ballerina outfit,” he said, startling you. “And your hair isn’t in a bun today,” He pointed at the top of his head, tracing invisible circles in the air.

“Is that a bad thing?’’

Hoseok’s smile was smug when he spoke. “Not at all. You look good like this. Not so dramatic.”

You huffed. “I'm not dramatic.”

“Says the person who almost kicked me and my kids out of the practice room, and called me hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

You opened your mouth to snap a witty response at him but the pink-haired waitress came to collect the orders. Maybe you were losing your mind but you could swear her lips weren't tainted in fuschia before.

“Just an espresso for me,” you said, sending the waitress a forced smile.

“Caramel frappuccino with–” Hoseok started, but the waitress interrupted him.

“With extra cream, got it.” she finished his sentence, clearly proud of herself.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress an urge to chuckle. Hoseok sent a polite smile to the girl and averted his gaze to you. The points of his ears were slightly flushed in red.

“So yeah,” he uttered, scartching the back of his neck. “Where were we?”

For a moment you thought about teasing him a little more, but eventually you resigned. He looked enough flustered right now and you’re not that devil as you had thought.

“We were talking about me looking dramatic with a bun and tutu on,” you prompted instead.

“You know that's not what I meant.”

You ignored him. “Anyway, you too don't look today like a hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

That was true, he didn’t remind you of the sweaty Hoseok in grey sweatpants you were seeing every Friday and Saturday on the halls of Just Dance after blasting Spotify Global Top 50 for a whole hour.

This Hoseok who was sitting in front of you was wearing ripped jeans and leather jacket paired with ankle boots you wouldn’t mind buying for yourself in a smaller size. Daredevil, that was a good word to describe him. Dangerous, daring, and maybe d–yeah, dumbass, your brain suggested.  

Yet, one thing was still the same about him.

“What's with you and those t-shirts?’’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself.  

Hoseok snorted at that. ‘’I like the band, so I wear t-shirts with their name on. It's as simple as that, princess. But I don't expect you to understand since you probably don't know who Joy Division is.”

You placed your palm on your chest, more offended by his words that you would like to admit. ‘’Of course I know who Joy Division is. I'm ballerina, not stupid,” you scoffed. ‘’Love will tear us apart is their song, isn’t it? I’ve been through this edgy phase on Tumblr in 2015. I know what I’m taking about.”

Hoseok looked at you with raised eyebrows and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t put your finger on. Was it amusement? Curiosity?  

You didn’t have a lot of time to think about it though, because the waitress was back with your orders. Again starstrucked by Hoseok. Again smiling sweetly like kpop female idols on music shows.  

While she finally put your coffees on the table (she spent definitely too much time doing it) and walked away, you spoke once more.

“I don’t get it,” you said and Hoseok muttered “what?”, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never seen someone doing a choreography to Drake's song and be dressed like cliché rock band member the next day.”

Hoseok placed his cup down and looked at you with a smirk. “I have many faces you don't know about yet, princess.” he warned. Dangerous, daring, dumb–

“And when am I going to find out?” you countered.  

“If you keep going for a coffee with me after our practices, I might reveal more of myself to you. As long as you are going to do the same in return.”

At that, you raised your eyebrows. Hoseok's eyes were challenging, asking you to pick up the dare and get to know him more and more, slice him layer after layer. Your subconscious was telling you there was so much more than meets the eye about Jung Hoseok than his annoying retorts and edgy t-shirts. And you were there to witness all of it.

“Fine,” you finally agreed, eyes narrowed. “We can hang out after classes. Sometimes.”

Hoseok grinned. “Great. Now, let's start getting to know each other!”

You're eyes widened comically. “Woah, slow down, boy. You know my name, know that I teach ballet and that I like espresso. What else should I tell you on our first dat–meeting?” you corrected yourself quickly. Date was a sacred word. Definitely not reserved for a man like Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, please. I also know it's better not to get on your nerves,” he pointed out. Smartass. “Tell me about how all of this happened. How did you become a ballerina.” he suggested.

You took a big sip of your coffee.  “That's a quite long story,” you said languidly.

“I don't mind. We have time.”  

You stared at him for a moment. He looked slightly out of picture, sitting in a quiet coffee shop, drinking a cup of the sweetest drink you could ever think of, while wearing clothes that made him look like he belonged to shady bars, where he could be surrounded by sleazy people sipping on their scotch whiskeys. There should have been a cigarette caught between his lips and fumes of smoke swirling around his features, but there was solace and the smell of caramel. Jung Hoseok, with a picture of sunflowers behind his back looked like no one you had ever met before.

And this kind of enigma that was this boy inflamed a strange curiosity in you.

So you picked up a dare.  

“Well,” you began, “It all started when I was in kindergarten. You know how it is, when you are five years old and your parents want to divert their unfulfilled ambitions into you. You could say I was this type of kid, kinda. My mum was a ballerina when she was young, so was her mother, but when she got pregnant with me in very early stage of her relationship with dad, she had to stop her career and took care of me. Dad was constantly working, travelling here and there to gain as much money as he could for us,” you explained.

“Mum always told me that my grandparents weren’t quite fond of their relationship. Especially my mum's. You know, dad used to be some kind of a bad boy back then,” you chuckled, remembering the pictures mum showed you. Leather jackets, motorbikes and self made cigarettes. “Grandma constantly blamed him for ruining mum's dreams, for debauching her and then, I happened,” you paused to gulp a sip of your coffee and continued. “So yeah, my grandma never forgave dad. However, after years she had grown to tolerate him to the point she didn’t throttle him during Christmas.”

You smiled, thinking how your dad and grandma avoided any unnecessary conversations between them. It was all civil, good mornings and goodbyes spoke in casual tone, but the tension was so thick that any sudden impulse, like dad talking about old times after a few glasses of wine, could break everything they had built through years.

“It was actually my dad who took me to the ballet classes first. My mum never wanted me to follow her footsteps but dad somehow tried to, I don't know, redeem himself? He felt responsible for a long time and when I think about this now, he just wanted to make his daughter a next little ballerina so my grandma could be pleased.”

Suddenly Hoseok interrupted you. “But don't you think it's unfair your parents did that to you because your mum couldn’t, you know, continue her career anymore?” he asked and you were pleasantly surprised to see him intrigued by your little story.

You hummed, contemplating this for a second before you answered. “You’re right, maybe it is slightly unfair but I actually grown to love ballet while the years passed. And seeing my mum happily watching my performances is enough for me.” you said. Ballet was your whole life, it always had been, there was no point of denying it.

“What about your grandma then?”  

“She died a few years ago. But I think she was proud of me. She never told me that verbally though. She was pretty bad at expressing feelings, but I know she was proud. I saw it in her eyes after my first big étude.”

It was in middle school, back when you were living in your hometown. Your group was performing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker and you got one of the leading roles. You never forgot the look in your grandma's eyes when she approached you after the performance.  

“And what now?” Hoseok asked and you looked up at him. “What are your plans for the next, few years?”

“Now, I still have a couple of years to double major from ballet dances and psychology. And what would come after, we will see. I have a big performance in January that will determine something really important for me. And as for the future-future, teaching kids ballet seems really nice.” You smiled lightly.

You didn’t like to talk about your big performance aloud, since you weren't quite sure of what future was going to bring. It determined if you would get into four-months-long international scholarship in Russia or not. Only one person could win this. And you were strong-willed to at least try. You dreamt about it your entire life. To finally dance on the stage of Bolszoy Theatre, maybe go on a whole tour around the world with their crew. But that was for now a matter of your own luck and abilities.

“Wow,” Hoseok mused. “You have this all planned out, princess.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a goal, not actual plans,” you grumbled sheepishly. “What about you? Are you really a hip-hop choreographer wanna be?’’ You giggled but stopped abruptly when you saw his expression seemed to have changed. Gone was cocky, grinning boy he was just minutes ago. Now in Hoseok's eyes was some kind of sadness and melancholy that wasn’t there before. It didn’t suit him. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“No plans. I’m just living the moment.” he said matter-of-factly, like he was trying to play it the most casually he could. It was strange behavior.  

Maybe Hoseok was right. He did have a lot more hidden underneath the layers he put on everyday. He just didn’t want to show it. Not yet.

The atmosphere condensed between you. It was thick and heavy with strange tension. You tried to loosen up it a little. It was probably your personality trait your friend would directly connect with your zodiac sign. “So,” you chimed in, “for how long this waitress has been giving you heart eyes?”

Asking that was completely unplanned but you had to think about something quickly, offhand. Hoseok’s features brightened a little and you didn’t know if it was because the question was about the girl or because you were the one asking him it.  

Ironically, you hoped for the latter.

“Chaeyoung, you mean?”  

Oh, he knew her name. Interesting.  

You tightened your grip around the cup unconsciously. “Is there any other waitress here who has a crush on you?”

Hoseok smirked after hearing your snarky remark but chose not to answer that. “Actually I’ve never had more explicit conversation with her, unless it was about the coffee. Maybe I should try, what do you think? She seems nice.” His eyes wandered for a moment to the place where the waitress stood, talking to a customer.

You smiled but there was no true politeness in this. Why though, that was something to think about on another occasion. “Yeah, you should. Totally.” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, totally.” Hoseok agreed, nodding.  

For a minute it was mute but then he glanced at your empty cups and a small smirk appeared on his face. “So, where are you taking me next?” he asked out of the blue.

You blinked. “What?”

“I treated you this week, your turn is next.”

‘’I’m not gonna buy you food, the fuck. You treated me as an apology! I don't-” You stopped your outburst when you saw him snickering at you. “Why the hell are you laughing?’’ you snapped. There was probably a blush on your cheeks and you cupped them briefly with your hands to cover it.  

“Because I was kidding. You don't have to buy me anything, I can pay for myself. Relax, princess.” Hoseok grinned. He didn’t seem to be as uneasy as before, so you scoffed at him. “But honestly, where are we going next weekend?” he asked, entirely serious.

“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” you challenged.

He just sent you his signature, cocky grin. “Am I that bad company?” he teased.

“Decent. You’re decent company, Hoseok.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don't be. That's just me trying to be civil.” you warned, pointing your index finger at him.

“Great, I’ll text you about it soon then, princess,” Hoseok announced simply, ignoring your surprised expression. He reached for the menu still lying on the table and opened it. “They serve good lemon tarts here, want some?” he proposed, going through the other positions briefly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still processing what he had said earlier. “You don't have my phone number.”  

“I do, actually,” Hoseok mumbled and his lips twitched.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “How did you get my number?”

“Soyeon. I asked her and she gave me.” Hoseok answered simply, shrugging his shoulders.  

A shocked gasp left your lips. “Soyeon, the receptionist? You swooned her over to get my number? She's married!” you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.  

Now it was Hoseok's turn to roll his eyes. “Not my fault she couldn't resist my smile and sweet words.”

You sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience.  

“Well, what about those lemon tarts?”  

You tossed your head back, groaning in frustration that was probably heard by every single person passing by the coffee shop on this September afternoon.  

However, you missed the way Hoseok's lips stretched out in a warm, sincere smile.  

You did end up having those lemon tarts that day.  

You couldn’t explain why or how, but in some way coffee meetings after dance lessons on Saturdays were no more just them. They turned into late dinners on Fridays and random text messages when you were bored during your lectures, which most times were eventually escalalting to Hoseok sending you tiktoks and memes you had saw million times before yet you laughed at them anyway.  

It was a start of promising friendship, someone could say. Unexpected, with not so smooth beginning but blossoming into something much more than simple hanging out in your free time. But none of you seemed to notice it, not yet.

Before you could even blink, summer was officially over and fall started to make her way into the weather. Warm cups of coffee started to feel more and more reasonable with each passing day and one time you found yourself holding one while visiting Hoseok at his work.

It was Wednesday, you didn’t have any classes at uni that day and he texted you if you could come to the address he had sent. And you did, ignoring the cold wind and forgetting about the warmth between your sheets you had to leave. Which had been surprising even for you; a sacrifice for someone like Jung Hoseok, but again, you weren’t categorizing it like that yet.

That’s how you found out about Hoseok's other job. He worked at the Suga's Record Shop, where, as he had described it: you could buy legendary pieces of music while listening to another million dollar hits. He’d said he took the position at Just Dance because the actual interest in buying vinyls unfortunately wasn't increasing, so the guy who owned the shop, Min Yoongi was his name, had decided to reduce Hoseok's salary.

The shop looked like pulled out straight from 80s movies, with tons of records of probably every single artist you could think of. There wasn’t anyone beside you inside, so Hoseok walked you around, picking up different albums,  classics, as he had said and showing them to you. He kept talking about them with true admiration written on his features, babbling about how Joey Ramone and his band invented punk rock and you found yourself watching him with amusement glittering in your eyes.

Days, weeks passed and it was already October approaching, turning green parks into wide range of colors that could only be described as autumnal.  

You kept discovering more and more similarities between you and Hoseok than you would like to admit. One of them being your laicsm when it came to manga and anime. The solidarity was made one Friday after practices, when you both agreed on not understanding the hype after seeing some poster hanging out randomly on the street.

Music taste however, was another cup of tea. It was something Hoseok took his pride in, that was why he kept sending you various tracks encouraging you to listen to some good stuff until one day, with raised eyebrows, he learnt how wrong his previous assumptions about you had been.

“Oh my God, my song!’’ you exclaimed, when The Neighbourhood’s Softcore started playing while you were sitting at the Blue Side. It looked like the pink-haired waitress was absent, so were the latest k-pop tracks she constantly played in the coffee shop.

“You know them?’’ Hoseok asked, looking at you with bewilderment in his eyes.

You snorted at him. “Told you I had that edgy vibe in 2015 when everyone listened to Sweather Weather. The t-shirts are long gone but my love for Jesse Rutherford stays untouched.”

You started mouthing the lyrics but Hoseok interrupted you. “I thought you would be into some k-pop type of shit.”  

He received a roll of your eyes in return. “Hey, don't disrespect k-pop like that! There are nice songs out there, people just choose the worse ones usually and complain how trashy they are.” you said, pointing your index finger accusingly at him.  

Hoseok lifted his arms in defending pose. “Fine, fine, don’t cancel me. What about classical music then. Since you are dancing ballet and all,” he drawled.

“Do you want to know a secret?’’ You leaned over the table and whispered, earning a nod from Hoseok. “Most ballerinas know nothing about classical music unless they are pieces we use for our routines. Ask them about their favourite and the answers would probably be Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. I'm most ballerinas.”

There was a moment of silence before you both erupted into laughter.

For people looking at you from the distance, laughing together until tears formed in your eyes, teasing and throwing playful snorts, you might have looked like you had known each other for years.

Something was ending, leaves were falling off the trees and sun hid behind the greish clouds but in the warm embrace of a small coffee shop two people found themselves in a hold of affection they couldn’t escape, no matter how hard they tried.

Because love sometimes comes into people’s lifes unannounced, tearing apart their souls and making them vulnerable for others’ healing touch.

It was late evening on Friday, when you were sitting at your favourite ramen place, bonding over food like it was the most natural thing to do, talk between next chews, bites and occasional slurps of Hoseok's mouth.  

Miss Lee's ramen was cheap, not fatty and what was the most important – not popular among other residents of your neighborhood, so not many people decided to show up that evening as well. That became the reason why you had suggested meeting there with Hoseok after your lessons.

You were in the middle of playing 100 questions game, a new found way of getting to know each other better. It was completely Hoseok's idea because he seemed to be the most eager man to learn more about you that you had ever met in your entire history of dating which, sadly, wasn't impressive.  

Last time someone asked you so many questions, you were doing personality tests on Buzzfeed.

Now it was your turn to ask something and after discovering that Hoseok poured milk before the cereal, liked green the most from all colors and was scared of needles (that's probably why he didn’t have any piercings, you thought to yourself) you decided you were really bad at this game.

But then, you recalled the interview you had recently watched with some k-pop group and after swallowing a generous amount of pasta, you aimed the target.

“What's your most prized possession?’’  

Hoseok, however, answered without a second thought. “My drums.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion. “Drums? Like the instrument?”

“No, like the cannisters.” he snorted sarcastically.  

“So you can play?” you continued, ignoring his witty retort.

“Yes, I do. I started learning when I was a kid. My dad owned a music shop. He was renovating old instruments from time to time and that's how I was gifted drums on my 10th birthday. The same ones I have till this day.”

You hummed. “So you’re hip-hop dancer slash drummer? And what, you play in a rock band too?” you laughed but stopped right away when you saw his serious expression. You gasped. “Oh my God. You do play in a band! And you didn’t tell me sooner?!” you exclaimed loudly. Young couple sitting few seats from you sent you deathly glares. You mouthed “Sorry!” and directed your attention to Hoseok again.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “There wasn’t an opportunity before,” You shook your head in disbelief at that. “Told you I’ve got a lot more to reveal.” He smirked and fuck, you hoped the blush that covered your cheeks right now was from the spice noodles you had eaten.

So Jung Hoseok and his love for leather jackets and old bands wasn't unreasonable. You hated yourself for wanting to see him play, sweat covering his forehead and lips bitten in concentration. What a sight it could be. Truly mesmerizing.  

You had to stop your brain from wandering through such dangerous territories.

“So,” you started after clearing your thoughts, “Are there any other hot musicians in your band?” you asked, regretting your choice of words as soon as they left your lips. You wanted to slap yourself mentally.

“Did you just call me hot?”  

“In your dreams. Now tell me about your rock band,” you blurted out quickly and let out a shaky breath afterwards. That was very much close to a catastrophe.

Yet you didn’t miss the way Hoseok's lips lifted up in amusement, trying to hide the laughter blossoming in his throat. “We are actually a punk rock band. There’s four of us. Namjoon, electric guitarist and the leader who sticks us all together since 2016. Jimin, in charge of vocals and bass guitar, and the youngest member, Jungkook, vocalist and bass guitar player as well.”  

“How did you all meet then?’’  

You weren’t even hiding your curiosity at this point. You justified yourself by thinking it was your only chance to be as close to the real (punk) rock band member you would ever be.

“You probably won’t believe me, but we all met at the university. I was studying business for a year before I dropped out of it and that's how I met Namjoon, who’s been my roommate ever since,” Hoseok said. “I met Jungkook and Jimin through Namjoon. He introduced them to me saying they all took part in some underground concerts for amateurs and after that they started hanging out together. You might say it was a coincidence we all met like that but I don't believe it. I think we were meant to come across each other eventually, you know, to save punk rock together.” He laughed to himself after finishing his little story.

You smiled at him genuinely and there was no mockness in this, it was true sympathy and probably something else, not so easy to describe.  

You imagined four boys, with head full of dreams and hearts filled with raw passion, doing something the world didn’t believe in, but they had enough faith in themselves to prove everyone wrong.  

“So how’s the band called?” you asked.

“Punk’s Not Dead.” Hoseok responded, cheeks bright red with mortification.  

“Punk’s Not Dead,” you mused to yourself. “Sounds nice. Clever, I would say.”

“It's actually a name of the movie. It was Namjoon who made it up. He's the smartest from our group. After all he isn’t studying law without a reason.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest. “A future lawyer playing in a punk rock band? I thought nothing is gonna surprise me after hearing you, hip-hop choreographer wanna be, are also a drummer. What about the others? Doctors? Stripteasers?”

Hoseok chukled lightly. “No, none of that. Jungkook and Jimin both work together as mechanics,” he answered, reaching for his now empty ramen bowl. You gaped as his calloused fingers adored with rings curled around the item, moving it to the side. Hoseok had pretty hands, you noticed. Hands of musician.

Sudden idea popped up in your head. “So when am I gonna hear you playing live?” you asked, smirking at him.

“Soon actually.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah, soon. We are having a gig next Saturday at Namjoon's brother bar. You should come.” Hoseok suggested.  

What kind of hollywood movie plot it was, you didn’t know, but you found yourself enjoying the main female protagonist's role probably too much.

“Next Saturday,” you mumbled to yourself, counting days in your head. Right, it was the day your best friend was coming back from Los Angeles and you had to pick her up from the airport.

You bit your lip. Ah, fuck it.  

“Fine. I’ll come,” you said. ‘’But can I bring my friend as a company?” you added and Hoseok smiled broadly.

“The more people, the better.”

It was a while after the concert when you learnt it wasn’t entirely a good idea but right now, with Jung Hoseok and his cocky grin he was flashing you, nothing else mattered.

Incheon International Airport was a place utterly unfamiliar to you.  

Last time you had visted it, was when you had been in ripe age of ten, welcoming back your aunt Jia from her ‘life journey’ to Tibet.  

Aunt Jia was an extraordinary lady, she had proved it announcing the whole family her departure to Tibet for a six months long ‘detox’, nearly giving your mother heart attack when she had talked about bonding through the nature and finding her inner peace in a temple among Tibetan monks.

But it was years ago, now aunt Jia was older and her interest in buddhism was way more sustainable, limited to buying different Buddha figurines in art decor shops.  

So today, you were at the Incheon International Airport for the second time in your life, again welcoming, this time your best friend Hana from her almost two years long stay in United States.

You met three years ago, both freshly graduated from your high schools and starting a new, adult life in Seoul as roommates. You had become close friends pretty easily, sticking together through ups and downs of dealing with real life shit, as you used to call it.

Ballerina and soon to be actress, both too dramatic for this world but getting along just fine through a whole year, until one day Hana had announced over a bowl of cereal she had received an opportunity to go on an international scholarship in USA she had always dreamt about. A lifetime chance, one in a million, as she'd said. Learning acting from American professionalists, walking down the never ending sunshine streets of California. Something only outstanding people can experience.

That was how Hana had ended up in Los Angeles, the City of Stars and the world's factory of make-believe. Thousands of kilometers away from home. Today, she was going to step on her country's ground for the first time in two years since she had been gone and you were more than thrilled to see her again in person.

She hadn’t exactly told you why she was back, neither she had explained for how long or, what was the most important and disturbing: why this was happening all of a sudden. And something was telling you it was all too suspicious, a perfectly wrapped half-lie.  

Hana said someone from her old friends from acting school had told her that the National Theater was preparing to do Victor Hugo's Les Misérables and suggested she should try her luck with castings, since she had played the main role while being abroad. It sounded convincing though, how wouldn’t, she was a good actress after all.  

That was Hana’s version of events. How really was, you didn't know, not yet. But you were sure something about this whole situation was too strange to be true. And you were determined to find out exactly what.

It was late morning in Seoul, foggy and with definitely too much humidity in the air. You were standing in the arrivals hall holding a self-made sign, produced out of boredom and your true love for DIY Pinterest ideas. Besides your friend’s name, you had painted palm trees on it and added glitter that was still stuck to some parts of your bedroom floor. You probably looked ridiculous holding it in your hands but you didn’t care, shifting from left foot to right. Waiting.

When you were about to check the time, you saw people coming up in your direction with suitcases in their hands. And then, among a crowd of nameless passengers, you saw a familiar blonde pony-tail and black polka-dot suitcase that could only belong to one person.

You could feel the roll of your best friend's eyes before you actually saw it, Hana shaking her head and chuckling to herself because of the absurd sign you were holding.  

When Hana was approximately ten meters from you, you cleared your throat and half-yelled in flat english, “There she is! My California girl!”  

People around looked in your direction with both distaste and amusement but Hana only sighed, until breath was knocked out of her lungs from the sheer force of your hug.  

“Oh my God, I missed you so much!” you mumbled into the material of her grey coat.  

“We talked and face timed each other practically everyday,” Hana grumbled but deep down, even if she didn’t say it, she missed you too.

“That's not the same!” you protested. “Lemme look at you properly,” You pulled away from the hug, putting your hands on Hana's shoulders and eyeing her carefully. She looked skinnier than three years ago when you had met but that was a question for another occasion. Her skin, gingerly touched by Californian sun, made her look like she had just come back from holidays abroad. “You're definitely too tanned for October,” you pointed out, earning a chuckle from her.  

“Come on,” Hana said, tiredness clearly apparent in her voice. “Let's get away from here.”

Back in the Uber that was driving you to your place, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Unspoken questions were lying at the tip of your tongue and you wanted to let them out instantly but you knew better. No rush, one information at the time. So you started from the simplest one, or you just thought it was.  

“Did you tell your parents you're back?” you asked and Hana visibly grimaced after hearing it. Of course she didn’t, there was no point of lying.

“Not yet.”

“When are you going to tell them then?”  

There was a pause on the other side of the seat and followed by a heavy sigh, Hana responded. “They still think I’m in California because my scholarship physically ends in two months. I will visit them home as soon as I’ll settle down in Seoul again.”

Settle down? You furrowed your eyebrows. She was going to stay for good here?  

“So what are your next plans?’’ you wondered aloud.

“Go to that try-out in the theatre next week, see if my stay in America was actually worth something,” Hana chuckled dryly, almost bitterly. “I was also thinking about finding some part time job so I could afford a place on my own once I get back to acting regularly in theatre. I don’t want to overuse your kindness.”

“You're not using–” you started to protest but Hana cut you off.

“I am practically throwing myself at you because I don't have a place to live. But don't worry, that's not for a long time.” She smiled lightly and you reciprocated the gesture. Hana then turned her head to the window, looking out of it for a while as you passed the streets. She murmured something about the weather that you didn’t hear well because your thoughts were somewhere else.

You tried to digest all the revelations your friend had just told you. It looked like Hana wasn’t planning on coming back to Los Angeles any time soon or she wasn't going to do it at all, but that wasn’t the most puzzling issue about the whole situation. It was strange because she’d never said anything about staying abroad for longer, not even once, until she met him. That happened to be some kind of an anchor for her, a reason why she had started questioning openly her further life choices. Had something happened that she changed her mind completely?  

You caught in the corner of your eye the sight of Hana absentmindedly playing with the ring on her finger and you decided it was now or never, you had to ask her or you will never be able to muster up the courage.

“What about Taehyung?” It seemed out of the blue, vocalized so suddenly but deep down it wasn’t. And Hana knew that. Her fingers ever so slightly tightened around the ring and then pulled away. “Does he know you’re staying?”  

She didn't visibly flinched, didn’t scrunch her eyebrows or purse her lips, didn’t protest. Maybe it was because she had been taught how not to show any emotions, maybe it was because she didn’t want to show any emotions at all. Her face was blank when she spoke, eyes distant and thoughts probably far away from the small space of the car.

“Taehyung recently got a role in some new Netflix series. One of the main roles actually, so it's going to take him some time to finish recording.” she said, not answering the question and she was well aware of it. It was right there on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated. Maybe the realization was too much to handle for her.

“So he seems to enjoy his stay in America,” you trailed off, watching as Hana smiled lightly but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah," she nodded. “He is.”

And that was enough of an answer for you.

You had been watching Hana falling for Taehyung for solid two years since she had left grey streets of Seoul to drown in Californian paradise. They met in acting school and got the scholarship together. The most divine, the most talented students the school had. Somehow over the thousands of kilometers of homesickness they started dating. And you were happy, you couldn’t be more glad seeing your beat friend chasing her dreams with a person who cared about her by her side. But the news about engagement few months ago had come as a shock to you, although you had not said anything. Hana's smile when she had showed you the ring had been enough to convince you of her happiness.

Right now, sitting by her side and listening to her talking about it so emotionless, so blankly, you were sure that in every single Hollywood fantasy there was a crack.  

“So, here we are.”

After opening the doors to your apartment there was a slight pause, before you spoke again. “I know it's nothing special but for that price and in location so close to my uni I couldn’t find anything better. It's small but–”

“Can you please stop rumbling for a second?” Hana interrupted you abruptly. She was literally standing in the door with the suitcase still in her hand because you didn't let her in any further. “I told you it's okay. You allowed me to stay here even though there's barely enough space here for one person.”

“But still, the bathroom is like the smallest I have ever seen... Oh, and there's a soy sauce stain on the wall in kitchen because I still haven’t figure out how to remove it and–”  

The door banged loudly and you jumped from the sudden noise. 

“What the fuck! You know how easily I get scared!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest, calming your rapidly beating heart.

Hana shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve had enough of your stupid complaining. Now, show me where will I sleep beacuse I feel like passing out any second now.” She placed her suitcase on the floor, taking off her coat and kicking off her boots.  

When you were living together as roommates, Hana was the one who organized the chores and yelled at you after making a mess and not cleaning up. She had been doing it as a matter of habit even during her absence.

“Sleep, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, shrugging off your coat as well. “Technically there’s no second bed here but you’re going to sleep here,” you explained, pointing out at the small sofa that was standing in a place you called ‘living room' just because it was connected directly to the kitchen. Beside the sofa, it consisted of the lamp and a tiny glass table where usually was a mess of your belongings but right now it was all cleaned and polished.  

Hana slumped down on the sofa, closing her eyes. “God, I missed that. There was some yelling kid on the plane and their parents couldn’t shut them up,” She sighed tiredly. “Now I can nap for the rest of the day. And night.”  

You bit your lip, looking at her slumped body. Today was Saturday, the day of Hoseok's band concert you had been invited to and you still didn't prepare your outfit or, what was the most important, for the whole week you hadn’t messaged Hana about the fact that she was, in fact, invited too. You felt guilty asking your freshly out of twelve hours long flight friend to come with you but you had no choice.  

“Hana,” you started and it already sounded pleading, not casual. She cracked one eye open. She knew when you had some buisness to her and it seemed like that now. “I know you’re tired, jet lagged and all but what would you say to a power six hours nap and going to a punk rock concert tonight with me?” you blurted out quickly.

Hana opened her eyes completely and now was looking at you dumbfounded expression on her face. “What?” she stammered out.

You moved to sit next to her on a sofa and took a deep breath. “So here's the thing. You know I work at the dance school now right?” you began and Hana nodded slowly. “I met a guy there. He teaches kids hip-hop. His name is Hoseok and he actually isn't only a dancer, he's also a drummer. And it might sound stupid but he plays in a band too,” you explained, avoiding her burning gaze you could feel on your skin. However, if you looked in her direction, you would see the soft smile adoring Hana's features. “We kinda started hanging out about a month ago and recently he invited me to his band's concert. And I really want to go but I thought you could accompany me cause I don't wanna be there alone all the time so, yeah.” you trailed off sheepishly.

There was a bit of silence and you were waiting for Hana to scold you but instead you received reaction you weren’t expecting at all.

“You’re dating some guy and you didn’t tell me?!” Hana bursted out. She had a mixture of disbelief and probably a little bit of betrayal written across her face.

You held your arms up in defending pose. “We aren’t dating!” you protested, scandalized someone could ever put words dating and Hoseok's name next to yours. “It's just some casual hanging out after work, just friends. Friends.” you repeated.

Hana rolled her eyes at that. She knew you better than you would like to admit but she decided not to tease you about it any further. “So, is he hot? He must be, he's a drummer after all and they are hot in theory,” She wiggled her eyebrows, nudging you with her elbow while you groaned in frustration.

“If that will make you happy, yes, he is good looking,” you sighed. There was a tiny bit of blush covering your cheeks. “But as I said, we’re just friends!” you emphasized the word again, looking at Hana intensely like you were trying to embed it in her brain so she wouldn't think something else.

“Will you go with me then? Please? I need emotional support.” you pouted. “Besides you owe me for letting you stay here.” you added and it might have been a little unfair move to maake but you didn’t care about that.

Hana sighed heavily, like she was really contemplating the decision even though she had made it a while ago, just to keep you in suspense for a little longer. She fought and urge to ask about said emotional support while Hoseok was only a friend and instead she nodded her head.  

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said, lifting her index finger before you could crash her body in a hug. “But I need to take this nap first.”

You grinned at her. “Thank you, thank you,” you kept mumbling, cuddling her body tightly against her protests.

“Now lemme wash and sleep.” Hana grumbled in annoyed tone but you knew she wasn’t mad at you at all. Deep down, even after layers of well trained, measured actions she had a good heart.  

“Punk’s not dead? What kind of name for a band is this?”  

You were standing before the door to the bar, side by side, watching as different people, mainly young, were passing you and coming inside. Hana eyed the pink poster that said ‘Free entrance!’ with her arms crossed over chest.

“That's the name for the punk rock band.” you said with a glint of annoyance in your voice, not even sure why somehow affected by your friend's words. You liked the name, it wasn’t obvious and sounded catchy. For you at least.  

Hana snorted. “I hope they are worth my jet lagged self that I’m sacrificing here for you.” she sighed, averting her gaze from the poster hanging on the window and pushing the door inside.

The bar, Dionysus, was Namjoon's brother’s property, as Hoseok had explained to you. They played their mini concerts here since they had met, actually gaining money from this because the owner was letting them take some part of the earnings from alcohol buying. Also, there was always a small box on the bar counter where people could throw their money inside if they wanted to support the group directly.  

Inside, there was a respectable amount of people already standing before the stage where everything seemed to be set up, except for the actual band members that weren't present, apparently hiding at the ‘backstage’ until their main entrance. You spotted drums standing at the back of the stage and you suddenly felt not so sure of yourself.

“There's a whole stage here? Geez, they didn't come to play,” Hana wheezed to herself, taking in the surroundings. “Do you want to drink something first?” she whispered into your ear.

You glanced at your phone to check time before answering. “I don’t know. I kind of want to be by the stage when they start playing.”  

Hana nudged your side. “Relax, I will push my way through those girls in leather skirts for you. Come on, let's warm up a little.”  

You looked in the direction of the stage once again but eventually gave up, letting her drag you to the bar. Maybe the drink wasn’t a bad idea. You didn't quite know if you could survive the evening completely sober.

The tall, handsome looking bartender smiled at you cheekily when you sat with Hana by the bar.  

“What can I get for the lovely ladies?” he asked, eyeing you both misheviously.

“What do you recommend?” Hana leaned her head on the hand, smiling at the man as well.

“I could make you my absolute speciality: Aphrodite’s nectar.” the bartender suggested.

“Go on, surprise us.” Hana said, earning a confident smirk from the man before he turned around to make your drinks. She rolled her eyes, pulling a few bills from her purse and throwing them to the self made money box with ‘Thank you for the support – Punk's not dead’ caption.  

“I could pay for myself, you know,” you muttered under your breath but loud enough for Hana to hear.

“Shh, don't say anything and let me support your friend with a generous tip before the actual show. Hope they’re worth it.” Upon her words, the bartender handed you your drinks with “Here you go.” followed by the cocky grin.  

Hana frowned when she saw pinkish liqueur poured to the vodka-size glass. “Seriously? This is his speciality? Pink coloured vodka? Isn’t that supposed to be called sex on the beach?” she scoffed and drank the substance in one go, flinching after she swallowed. “I've had better.” she commented dryly.

You followed her actions, drinking up the alcohol as well. You coughed a few times before you asked, “Can we go now?” It sounded like a childlike pleading but you didn’t care.  

Hana nodded after exhaling loudly and you both made your way to the stage, like she had said earlier – pushing through the crowd of other people. There were shouts of swears and insults thrown at you from every side but Hana didn’t give a fuck, practically dragging you by your hand while you were muttering quick apologies to every single girl in leather skirt.

When you reached very front of the stage, Hana grinned at you. “See? Told you we’ll be in first row. God, I haven’t been to punk concert for a very long time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You've been to a punk concert before?” you asked, confused with her words. Hana seemed to be taken aback by this question, like she just realised she had said something she hadn't indent to.

“Yeah. In high school. Like I said, long time ago.”  

“Why didn’t you–” you started but immadietly stopped, when the lights went out followed by the oooh! from gathered people. “Oh my God it's happening,” you half-whispered, clutching Hana's hand.

“Youjust referred to The Office without watching it.”

“Shut up!” you muttered, ignoring Hana's giggle.  

Next thing you knew, sharp lights shimmered and few, firsts accords of electric guitar resonated through the bar. You absentmindedly squeezed Hana's hand tighter. Then, more lights flashed, along with the thumbing sound of drums and the whole stage illuminated with bright, silver colors.  

You didn't even realise you were holding your breath the entire time. You eventually got back to your senses when one of the boys started singing an unknown to you song, probably self-written by them. His hair was pink and you recognized him as Jimin, remembering the photo Hoseok had sent you where he had captioned everyone. Jimin was leaning towards the micstand lazily, like he was purposely doing it this way. His guitar was dropped on his back nonchalantly.

Next was Jungkook, the youngest in the group. His mop of black hair was nodding along to the rhythm of the music, his eyes and attention solemnly focused on his guitar. He didn’t wear any jacket and his muscles on ink-covered arms flexed with his every move.

On the other side of the stage stood Namjoon, the one who Hoseok lived with and referred as the leader of the group. He also had some tattoos on his forearms but not as many as Jungkook. He smiled lightly at the crowd when someone shouted his name, showing the tiniest of dimples on his cheeks.

And there it was the last member. Hoseok.  

Your breath hitched in your throat. You had seen him dancing a few times before in Just Dance, ever so passionate but this was different kind of passion. He was fierce, completely devoted to what he was playing, hitting the notes like his life depended on it. He didn’t had any tattoos adoring his skin and his ears weren’t pierced like his friends' but he had an exeptional energy in him, power that he emphasized with every move, every tap of his drumsticks. For you, he was the most divine of them all, the brightest spot on the stage. A born performer, flesh and bones.

The song was catchy, something quite similar to the ones Hoseok had sent you after many ‘pretty pleases' from you. Jimin and Jungkook's voices were blending together just fine and you found yourself bopping to the rhythm of the music until you felt Hana's hand on your shoulder. You turned around in her direction with a smile that quickly disappeared when you saw her expression. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Even in the dimmed lighting you could distingiush she was paler than before.  

She leaned towards your ear and half-yelled, trying to outshot the crowd, “I need to get some fresh. I don't feel well.”

You looked at her with worriedly. “I'll go with you,” you declared but Hana stopped you.  

“No, stay here,” she protested firmly. “Enjoy the show. I'll wait for you outside until it's over.”

“You sure?” you asked, earning a nodd from her along with a light smile that didn’t look much convincing but before you could say anything else, Hana was making her way through sweaty, bouncing bodies again. You watched anxiously as her blonde hair disappeared between the mass of nameless people and then, the song was over. You released a long breath and glanced at the stage.

Namjoon took the mic and tapped on it a few times. “Ehm, hi. We're Punk's not dead, as you know probably,” he chuckled lightly, making you smile, despite the uneasy feeling in your chest about Hana. “I'm Namjoon and I’m the leader of the group. I thought it could be nice if I introduce everyone before we start so... here we go. On the left, there's Jimin,” He pointed at the pink-haired man and audience, mainly female attendants, cheered loudly. Jimin smirked lopsidedly.  

Namjoon continued, “Next there's Jungkook,” The youngest lifted his head and smiled boyishly in bunny-like manner, scrunching his nose in process. He looked familiar, you thought to yourself. Strange.  

“And, our amazing drummer: Hoseok!” Namjoon presented and you screamed upon hearing Hoseok's name before you could realise what on Earth you were doing. Hoseok stood up from his seat and grinned broadly, waving to the crowd. Then, miraculously, his eyes landed on you and if that was even possible, his smile visible widened. You thanked whatever gods that existed he couldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed.

“Thank you for coming here today. I hope you'll have a great time,” Namjoon said. “And now, we are going to play our new song called Cigarettes after sex*, written and self-composed by Jimin. Enjoy.” he finished, nodding to his friends.  

The song was beautiful, it carried the lash of melancholy and sadness behind every single word that Jimin sang and he visibly felt it too, making it seem even more real by the sheer emotions of heartache written on his beautiful features.

They played a few more songs after that one, some of them were covers of the bands you were familiar with thanks to Hoseok and his signature t-shirts. Before you could blink an eye, it was over and Namjoon was thanking everyone one more time for coming and then they disappeared behind the black curtains after receiving a loud applause for their performance.

You stayed like that for a while, still basking in aftermath of everything that had just happened, humming to yourself some melody from one of the songs you had heard tonight. You turned your back to the stage, watching other people leaving the bar. Lost in your own world, you definitely didn’t hear footsteps behind you.

“Did you enjoy your time, princess?”  

You jumped in your place, twirling to the direction of the voice you knew so damn well. Hoseok was smirking at you while crouching down on the stage. His friends were also there, behind him, packing their stuff.  

When you calmed down your breathing enough, you shouted, “What the fuck, Hoseok?! I told you to not do things like that to me!”

He only chuckled in response, smiling cockily at the furious flush on your cheeks. “I asked you a question,” he reminded.

What was it? Ah, right, he asked about the concert. You pursued lips, crossing your arms over chest. You wanted to say it was showstopping, spectacular and all those adjectives Lady Gaga had used in that famous meme video of hers but you didn’t.  

“It was decent.”  

A smirk appeared on Hoseok's face. “Decent, huh? Wouldn't say so, after seeing you cheering so loudly in first row,” he teased. ‘’I'm flattered. I’ve never had such devoted fan of myself.”

He thought that pink blush which colored your cheeks was cute. Fuck, you were cute, trying to cover your embarrassment with an unamused expression.  

“I cheered for your friends, you know? Not you.” you mocked but it was pointless, he was already standing up from his position, knowing what was the truth.

“Come on, let's go to the backstage,” He made quotation mark on the word backstage while saying it. You grimaced. “There’s nice after party setting up there,” he tried again, this time pouting slightly and you eventually gave up. You had promised you would come, after all. Hoseok grinned when you followed his footsteps, walking to the supply base at the back of the bar.

“Jungkookie!" Hoseok shouted before he twisted the knob, whirling around for a quick moment. Jungkook lifted his head up in Hoseok's direction. “Don't forget to close the door when you finish packing!”  

The youngest member nodded, going back to his previous work.

Beside you and Hoseok's bandmates, inside the ‘backstage’ was the same handsome bartender from earlier, Namjoon's brother as you assumed, and a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair that stood next to Namjoon, leaning into his body. He had his arms wrapped around her, talking to his brother about something. She introduced herself as Minhee, Namjoon's girlfriend, extending her hand to you in friendly gesture when you approached them with Hoseok.

“Oh, we met before, by the bar. I’m Seokjin, the owner of this lovely place.” Namjoon's brother, Seokiin, said, shaking your hand.

“Hyung, you can't give it a miss, can you,” Namjoon grumbled behind his back but Seokjin ignored him. That wasn’t probably the first time he flexed about owning a bar, you thought to yourself.

“How did you like the concert, darling?” Seokjin asked you suddenly.

You rushed to reply. “Oh, it was really nice! I’ve never been to anything like that before but I enjoyed it very much.” you responded. Hoseok muttered something about you being a liar under his breath but you acted like you didn’t hear him. “I really liked the second song, the slow one.” you added, averting your gaze to Jimin who was sitting with his head bowed down in front of the vodka bottle.

Seokjin patted him on the shoulder. “Yah, did you hear that Jimin-ah? You’ve got a fan of your sad songs here!” he said, breaking into laughter but Namjoon stopped him by sending his brother a warning look. Jimin though barely even acknowledged his or your words, lifting his head up for a brief moment and eyeing your figure without any emotion on his face. Then he got back to the glass of alcohol again, pouring the substance into his mouth in one go.

“He broke up with his girlfriend like six months ago or something and still hasn’t quite move on,” Hoseok whispered into your ear. You let out an “Oh,”, sending one last apologetic smile to Jimin, even though he wasn’t looking at you at all.

Hoseok motioned you to sit by the table with others and you positioned yourself between Namjoon's girlfriend and Hoseok. The only absent person seemed to be Jungkook who was probably still fumbling with packing their stuff.

The conversation was oscillating around the concert. Hoseok mentioned that the audience had been much bigger than the last time and Namjoon kept babbling about some technical issue with his guitar that you couldn’t understand.

“Don't worry. I've been with him for three years and I still know shit about what he's talking about too," Minhee  said to you, probably after seeing your clueless expression. You both bursted out into laughter.  

You were supposed to ask her how had she and Namjoon had met but Seokjin interrupted you, walking in with a bottle of champagne.

“Where the hell is this kid Jungkook?” he grumbled. Hoseok quickly explained he was packing their stuff on stage when he last had seen him. Seokjin hummed and placed the bottle on the table. “And what about your blonde friend, darling?” he directed next question to you.

You froze in place.

Holy shit. You completely forgot about Hana.

You didn’t respond to Seokjin, so he assumed you hadn’t heard him and went back to opening the champagne bottle.

You pulled out your phone from the pursue and cried out in mortification after seeing the messages.  

[22:11pm] Hana: I was at mcdonalds across the street lol im heading to the bar now

[22:11pm] Hana: come up for me please  

[22:15pm] Hana: ???

10 minutes ago.

“Fuck!” you muttered under your breath, frantically typing a response.  

“Is everything ok?” Hoseok asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head. “I forgot to come up for my friend after the concert. She wasn’t feeling well so she left and stayed outside.” you hastily explained, already standing up from your seat, clutching your phone in hand. Hoseok followed after you.

You pushed the door open, although the sight you saw behind them wasn’t anything you could ever expected. The surprised words escaped Hoseok's and your mouth simultaneously.

“Hana?”

“Jungkook?”

They stood facing each other, looking like they were interrupted by you mid conversation, probably in too close proximity for people supposed to be strangers. Hana's astonished face leaned out from behind Jungkook's tall body in the direction of the voices. Slowly, like she didn’t expect to be caught this way. And that was weird, beacuse she looked like she didn’t want to be seen in Jungkook's presence by the others, like their close proximity was something that shouldn't have been acknowledged.  

Jungkook turned around as well, however ever so recultanty. And then, when you saw his face clearly now, jet-black hair and inked arms, it all crashed you like a wave. That was why he seemed to look so familiar. You knew him, maybe not personally, but you knew who he was. The boy from Hana's photograph she had pinned to her cork board when you had been living together. A beach with crystal blue sea behid their backs, the same boy yet with less tattoos than now, carrying your friend on his back, both grinning to the camera like it had been the happiest moment of their lives. Until one day Hana was gone and so was the photograph.  

You felt like you were interrupting something too intimate for you to step in with your shoes like that. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Hoseok helped you out instead. And you thanked him for that mentally because you weren’t sure of your mouth anymore.

“Looks like your friend is safe and sound.”

Hana snapped out of her previous shocked haze upon hearing his words and automatically composured herself. She took a few meassured steps away from Jungkook. Gone was the slight shock on her face, she was back to her calmed persona. “Yeah, I'm all good. I was about to text you I’m going home.” she said, her words directed to you. She then exchanged quick glances with Jungkook, glances that could look the simplest from other people’s perspective but not for you.  

Hoseok though, fortunately, didn’t seem to feel something was apparently off here. It was for the better he thought like that. “So you won't stay to celebrate with us?” he asked Hana.  

Jungkook’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He was still standing there, unsure of what to do

Hana shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m still tired and jet-lagged from my flight so I will just wish you great time and go.”

“You sure? I can go with you too, if you want,” you suggested after containing yourself enough to finally vocalize some thoughts. But Hana only smiled at you. Forcefully, which didn’t miss your attention.  

“It's okay. I want you to have fun. I already called a cab for myself anyway” she reassured.

Hoseok protested. “Someone could drive you home. I’m sure Jungkook wouldn't mind–”

“It's fine, really.” Hana said firmly and you knew by the clench of her fists she was slowly losing her patience. At the same time, Jungkook's eyes flickered ever so slightly after hearing his hyung's words and then went back to his previous unreadable stare.  

Seeing Hoseok opened his mouth to protest, you took his wrist, hoping he would take the hint and not add anything more.  

“I must really go now. Take care of Y/N and have fun.” Hana smiled politely, looking at Hoseok and he reciprocated the gesture. She didn’t really acknowledge Jungkook at all, even though he had somehow his gaze fixated on her the whole time. But Hana did that all pursposelly, so Hoseok couldn’t suspect anything. She wasn’t stupid after all. Well crafted actress knew how to act.

She came up to you, hugging you briefly. “We'll talk tomorrow.” she whispered into your ear because she knew that you couldn’t be fooled so easily, that you felt something was not right from the very beginning since she had announced her comeback from the States.

Hana waved one last time to you, exiting the bar. You could swear Jungkook's eyes lingered on her figure a little too long to be considered unbothered, until he turned around and went back to the stage. You prayed Hoseok wasn’t going to ask him what had he been talking about with Hana or why did he even decide to approach her like that.

“Come on. Let's go back. Jungkookie will close the door.” Hoseok said instead.  

You listened, letting him take your wrist and walk to the supply base for the second time tonight. You wondered for a moment if Jungkook was going to chase after Hana, but you shook your mind from those thoughts. It wasn’t your life to make decisions and judge them.

A little while after you sat on your seat again, Jungkook came back as well and you somehow felt the rush of relief swimming through your whole body. He slumped down next to Jimin on the couch and said something to him you couldn't make out exactly, but pink-haired man laughed bitterly at that, filling his best friend's glass to the brim.

Next two hours you spent there passed like a blurr. You kept talking with Namjoon's girlfriend practically the whole time. You found out Minhee was studying medicine and she had met Namjoon through some discussion club she had joined in her freshman year. It had been attraction from the first disagreement, as she described it cheekily.

When Namjoon called for Minhee to talk about something on the side, you averted your attention to Hoseok who was sitting in front of his empty glass and scrolling through the phone, clearly  discontent with you intentionally avoiding his attempts to tease you about something you had said, or avoiding him in general.

“Aren't you drinking anything?” you asked him with raised eyebrows.

Hoseok snorted. “Someone has to drive you home, princess.”

“Bullshit. I can take the cab.”

“Well then, I don’t feel like drinking anyway.”

You eyed him carefully and then it hit you. “Oh my God,” you blurted out, trying to stifle the giggles blubbering in your throat. “You are not drinking because you are a lightweight!” you accused, not even hiding your amusement now.  

“That's not true,” Hoseok grumbled but his red ears gave him away. He was a bad liar.  

You pushed his chest with your index finger. “Admit it!”  

Hoseok looked at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “Fine, I am. And what about it?” 

You giggled. It was probably some champagne mixed with wine you had drank with Minhee speaking through you but you didn’t falter when you said, “Nothing at all. That's cute.”

Hoseok frowned. “Cute?”  

“Yeah, cute. You're cute when you're flustered.”

Hoseok parted his lips in both disbelief and annoyance because relatively speaking, you took it out from his mouth. It was his remark, for God's sake, he was the one supposed to say things like that to you. He hadn't drunk even a drop except one, symbolic glass of champagne yet he wanted to argue with you about it like five years old child. Because if anything, you were prettier and yes, cuter than him, and he had a sudden urge to spell it out for you.  

Yet he faltered for a moment after hearing abrupt glass crashing from the other corner of the room. You looked in that direction too, seeing half-conscious Jimin slumped down on the couch, Jungkook sitting next to him and saying things to him you didn’t hear. You could make out only “hyung” and “please, calm down” falling from younger's mouth.  

Jimin seemed like he had no idea about what was going on around him. When he opened his eyes for a moment they were bloodshot and glassy, probably from too much alcohol he had drank before, or maybe even from something else entirely. Then he murmured something to Jungkook and black-haired boy sighed, standing up from his position and approaching Namjoon and Minhee furiously talking about something in the far corner of the room.  

“Here we go again,” Hoseok breathed next to you and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing your attention on the scene in front of you.

“Hyung, please–”

“No, Jungkook. We can't do that again.”  

“Please, I swear it's the last time. He won't let me take him home unless it's with her,” Jungkook pleaded. “It'll worsen anytime soon. I don't want to see him like this."

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think I don't know that Jungkook?! Last time was supposed to be last. And now it's happening again. We can’t continue it like this,” he said, looking in Jimin's direction where Seokjin was trying now to convince him to let go of the half empty vodka bottle Jimin was clutching tightly to his chest.  

“Hyung...”

“Stop arguing. I already texted her like 20 minutes ago when I heard he started talking about her again. She's on her way,” Minhee interrupted. “But this has to end. He–they can’t live like that.” she said and Jungkook breathed out heavily with relief, thanking her over and over.

Hoseok hummed next to you, making you jump slightly on your seat from the sudden sound so close in your proximity. “What's happening?” you asked him and he let out a long sigh.

“I don't think you want to see that. I should take you home.”

But before you could answer, someone banged loudly on the back door. Seokjin moved from his seat and opened them, letting inside a girl around your age, dressed in all black. Her hair was dyed in red and she didn’t have any make up on, assuming by the ungodly hour she might have been woken up or she hadn't gone to bed at all.  

“Who’s that?” you whispered to Hoseok’s ear.

“That's Nari,” he answered simply, like her name was carrying all the needed information without giving into other details. “Jimin's ex girlfriend and probably the only source of light in his life.”

Nari moved automatically, like it definitely wasn’t the first time she was in similar situation. She crunched down on the floor in front of Jimin's slumped body and touched his thigh lightly, murmuring his name. Jimin's eyes snapped open at that and he blinked a few times, focusing on the sight before him, like he couldn't actually believe she was there, with him, like his head was messing with him and betraying the bloodshot eyes.

“Nari,” he muttered and it sounded unsure, pained. “You're here. You came.”

“Yes, I’m here.” she replied with a soft smile, standing up to sit next to him on the couch.  

Jimin's hands reached for her, cupping her face in his shaky palms, thumbs stroking rosy cheeks, checking if she was really here, flesh and blood. “You dyed your hair,” he said softly with croaked voice, putting a strand behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”  

It all felt too intimate for you, like you were stepping into a scene you weren’t suppose to be in. You quickly averted your gaze somewhere else. In the corner of your eye you spotted Jungkook looking at what was happening in front of him with blank expression. He had seen it probably many times before, after all. Suddenly, strangled sobs echoed through the room and everyone involuntarily snapped their heads into direction of it.  

Nari was hugging Jimin's shaking body, rocking him back and forth as he cried out words into the material of her jacket.  

“Please, don't leave me.”  

“I won't. I’m here. It's okay,” she kept murmuring to his ear until his breath slowed down enough so she could say, “Let's go home.”

She motioned for Jungkook and he obliged, helping her lift Jimin's limp body from the couch like he weighted nothing. They left without a word, just like that, and heavy silence fell in the room. No one was in right mood to continue celebrating, not after everything that they had just witnessed.

Namjoon was the first one to break the silence. “We will be going. It's been a long day.” he said, placing his hand on Minhee's waist.  

“Indeed.” Seokjin agreed. “I’m gonna go upstairs to my place too. I’ll clean up in the morning.”

Hoseok also stood up from his seat, putting his palm on your shoulder. “Come on. It's time for us too.”  

You nodded, rushing to bid everyone goodbyes.

Outside, in the middle of the night, where all the demons had left humans bodies making them vulnerable for the bracketing world, you took Hoseok's hand in yours. It was warm, despite the coldness of the air.  

“What would you say if we took a walk by the river? I need to clear my mind.”

The puffs of air around your face when you spoke were telling you it was a bad idea, but Hoseok smiled in response.

“I’ll lead the way.”  

Long walks by the river were meant for warm summer nights when sun set lately and rose in the very morning before you could blink an eye open. They were meant for the steamy nights, when people didn’t have to worry about the coldness, when they could wander under the starry sky with bare shoulders and heavy eyelids.

October absolutely wasn’t reasonable time for the walks in the middle of the night but this time he weather was kind, merciful. There was no sight of the frost and even though it wasn’t the most pleasant aura, even though hands had to be tucked deep in pockets of the jackets, everything could be bearable.  

Maybe somehow, when you reached that point in your life, circumstances stopped being the most crucial, as long as you were with the right person.

Boulevards by the Han River were common spot for the citizens and tourists but not in this time of the year, not when fall was threatening everyone as a trailer of the winter. Colorful lights illuminating themselves on the surface of the water were always the same, no matter which part of the year it was; always mesmerizing, always spectacular even for the people seeing them every single day.  

This night however, they seemed to shine not as bright as the stars.

“I feel bad for Jimin and this girl,” you said, breathing out the puffs of air in the process. It had been silent between you and Hoseok since you had left the disaster of a party until this very moment, when you finally gathered up enough courage and inhaled cold air to clear your mind and vocalize your thoughts. “Do you know why did they break up?” you asked Hoseok.  

“I don't know the details, just overall,” he answered, keeping his gaze ahead of him. “The only person who knows the truth is probably Jungkook but he had never told us anything.”  

You hummed, digging your fists into the pocket of your jacket deeper.  

Hoseok continued after a while. “I didn’t lie when I said she was the only source of light for Jimin. Beside her and music, he has nothing to cling onto in his life. There's no Jimin without music. Always has been.”

The images from the previous hours shimmered behind your eyelids. Jimin onstage, feeling himself, singing like he wanted to burn his throat dry, playing the guitar like he wished his fingers grated on the strings. A fierce passion in his eyes, as if he wasn't doing it out of the habit; losing himself in the drumming rhythm because that was his only ability. Then you saw the energy slowly draining away from his body, you saw a broken man, vulnerable to the world he had never had any intention to care about, now caring about him.

You wondered about the others. Was music their one true love and burden?

“What about your friends then? Is music really that important for them too?”  

Hoseok thought about an answer for a little while until he decided to respond. “Jungkook grew up with Jimin in the same hometown. Childhood friends, always sticking together through ups and downs, younger doing exactly the same after the older. Jimin always took care of Jungkook and now Jungkook is watching by Jimin.”  

You let your mind wander for a moment to Hana. How did she meet Jungkook? There was no doubt they knew each other before she had become your roommate. Did she know Jimin too, if they were raised in the same town? Another couple of questions you were yet to ask but this could wait for now.  

“The band and music it's their whole life. They aren't like Namjoon, level-headed with actual plans after he finishes his law studies. Music is just a hobby he's going to put off once he's out of uni.” Hoseok added and there was some sadness about the way he did it, like they were another words at the tip of his tongue he wouldn't dare to say aloud because when unspoken, they hurt less.

“And you?”  

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Me?”  

“Yeah, you. Who am I talking to?” you sassed lightly. “How do you see yourself in three years from now?” you asked and Hoseok chuckled the same way he did when you questioned him about it a month ago in Blue Side. Bitterly.

You motioned for him to sit on one of the benches standing by the boulevards.

“Do you have everything planned for the next three years?” Hoseok countered instead of actually answering you. He waited for you to roll your eyes but you did the exact opposite.

“Well, my mum always tells me that it's good to set up your goals. Even though sometimes you might disappoint yourself when they turn out all wrong.”  

Hoseok chuckled. “There's a ballerina speaking through you, princess. And motivational speaker, too.”  

“Maybe, but that's not my point,” you fired back, twirling around on the bench so you could sit cross-legged in front of him. “So, Jung Hoseok, hip-hop choreographer wanna be and passionate drummer, will you tell me what are your plans for the future?” you asked again. When you saw him hesitate, you added, ‘”Come on, pretend it's like our 100 questions game. I asked you a question and you shall answer.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. “I think I told you once that I just live the moment,”  

“But everyone has some dreams,” you complained. Go on, tell me something boy, are you happy in this modern world,” you sing-songed, breaking into loud laughter in the process that made him chuckle shortly.

Hoseok stared for a few seconds blankly into the calm surface of the river before him, watching as colorful lights changed from blue to green. Sadness blending into hope. He took a deep breath before he spoke.  

“Remember when I told you I had moved to Seoul to attend dance school there?” You nodded. “And how I told my parents I was going to study business really hard so they could allow me to learn dancing?” Another nod. “Well, my parents were never quite fond of my passions. First it was drums but they knew from the beginning I treated it more like a hobby than a future career, so they let me do it. Then dancing came. I found something I really wanted to pursue in my life and they, how to put this, never quite accepted my choice.” he said, looking at his hands folded on his lap.  

You had never seen him more uneasy, the smiling Hoseok who teased you and and spoke about music with glint in his eyes was long gone and you didn't like this version of him at all.  

“You know, I’ve got an older sister. She was-is the apple of my parents eyes. The better child, the best daughter they could ever imagine. She studied abroad, speaks English and Japanese, has a well paid job that makes her afford a nice apartment in Seoul on her own. They wanted me to be like her too, but I guess I never came up to their expectations.” The words he never willed to tell, slipped from his mouth just like that, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

There was a sadness coming from his voice and you found yourself wishing you could swipe it off his face because it didn’t suit him, because gone was Hoseok that made you laugh and played his drums like his life depended on it. Hoseok who conveyed his fierce passion for dancing to the kids he was teaching. All the layers he was putting on every day were slowly slipping off him.

And in that moment you thought how unfair this world was. Your parents gave you wings to fly, to make your dreams come true but his parents were trying to cut them off his whole life.

“I went to the university so I could finally please them, so they would say: ‘Hoseok-ah, we’re so proud of you!’ but I eventually realised it's not for me. That I can't live like this. I met Namjoon, then the rest of the boys. We made a team and I've never felt more free,” Hoseok confessed and for the first time this night, he looked you in the eyes honestly, deeply. “So if you asked me, what's my dream, I would say I just want to be happy. I’ve never wanted to be the best. I just wish I was doing what I love the most, dancing and music.”

You opened your mouth to say something but he raised his hand, stopping you. “If you want to pity me, don’t. I don’t need this.” he said, but it was your turn to shake your head.  

“No, I want to say something,” you firmly protested. You lifted your index finger up, pointing at the blackboard sky. There was determination in your voice, a need to convince this boy he was worth much more than he thought. “See those stars? There are literally millions of them on the sky, looking exactly the same from our perspective yet we all admire them. And I’ll tell you more. Every single one is different, special on its own terms,” you said, all the time beating the air with your hands. You ignored the way Hoseok stared at you with raised eyebrows and continued, “Now think about the sun. Yes, it is the biggest star, giant thing and the centre of our solar system but it’ll burn your eyes if you look at it for too long. Those significant stars won't do it and we all wish our dreams to come true while looking at them falling, not at the sun.”

A small smile appeared on Hoseok's face and you reciprocated that, sighing softly. “What I’m trying to say is that you don't have to be the greatest to be admired and respected. You are your own star.” you trailed off, almost whispering the last words like you were afraid of vocalizing them.

You were staring into each other eyes for a whole minute, before you got insecure and looked away with flushed cheeks. “I'm sorry. That was my probably still a little drunk self speaking, don’t mind me. Hana would say it is also my zodiac sign's personality trait.” You put your hands on your cheeks, finding them warm from embarrassment despite the coldness of the night.

If you glanced in Hoseok's direction, you would see him grinning broadly. Who was this girl, he had no idea. He just felt she was going to be someone special for him. His own green flashlight illuminating on the clear surface of the water.  

“No, it's okay. I really appreciate that. Thank you.” he said, making you hesitantly turned to face him with raised eyebrows.  

“You're welcome. I guess.”

“So,” Hoseok drawled, pointing his chin at you and then on the sky. “How do stars align tonight for Aquariuses?” he asked out of the blue. You thanked it was the middle of the night, so he couldn’t witness the way you furiously blushed.  

“Why don't you look for yourself?” you whispered, staring up at the dark, starry sky.

But why would he look at the stars, if for him all of them hid in your eyes?  

At some point, next weeks turned into a blurr while gloomy November was approaching, blending everything into grey reality. Life seemed to move on its own and it could be thought that things went back to normal again but deep down, behind set up facades, there was so much more left unspoken than revealed, lying bare and exposed on the table.  

You balanced your life between classes at the university, ballet rehearsals after hours and doing your part time job on weekends. With the midterm exams getting closer and closer, you somehow still managed to find time to hang out with Hoseok.  

It was weird for you, to spend so much of your free time drinking coffees at Blue Side, eating ramen after practices on Fridays or just listening to him babbling about some other hilarious story involving him and his friends as you walked together to the underground station, with your hand in his under the umbrella, referencing to Rihanna's song probably too many times than necessary.  

And normally, looking at you from afar and up close, seeing the intimacy you shared in your stares and muffled laughters, someone could swear you were already dating, that this hanging out carried so much more meaning than you would like to admit. But for some reason, neither Hoseok nor you wanted to speak about this aloud, to give your relationship a label much more bigger than simple friendship.  

People around you noticed, obviously, it was hard not to. Some of them teased, others decided not to bring up the subject for the sake of not starting a storm in a teacup.  

And life went on like that, day by day, as fall was cleaning the world from the last remains of summer, behind blurry windows a new spring was blossoming for two people.  

In the middle of November Hana moved out from your appartment after composing her life enough to afford a place on her own. She got a role in a theater, doing rehearsals every weekend and keeping her mind busy with work during weekdays, because she indeed had a lot to handle since she had come back. And certain raven-haired boy being present again in her life wasn't helping in this situation at all. If anything, his position in the equation made everything much more twisted and complicated.  

While your friend was burried deep in her scripts and old blurrs of memories, you were equally engulfed with paper work for your exams. You would have been probably still staring at the same pages for the whole night, if you hadn’t received a message from no one other than Jung Hoseok himself.

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: get your ass up from the couch and go out with me today

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: theres some punk rock concert today organized on the campus of YOUR uni  

[18:58pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: namjoon gave me his tickets since he cant go with his gf

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: actually im surprised you didn’t tell me anything about this concert. shame on you princess  

There was a string of emojis after the last text and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you read go out with me, but you eventually composed yourself. Because after all this time, you thought it meant nothing. Simple hanging out, nothing more, nothing less.

[18:59pm] me: fyi i need to study  

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: come on one free night wont make a big difference  

When you weren’t responding for a while, leaving him on read, he typed:

[19:03pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: pretty pleaseee

But he didn’t know you were already in the bathroom, notes long forgotten on the couch.

“They were sooo bad!”

“Hey, don’t be mean. At least they tried!”

“Oh please, I’m not punk rock expert but I know this Paradise City cover sucked.”

You were walking out of the small campus venue for the concerts, laughing until your lungs burned and cheeks hurt from smiling. The concert didn’t last long, just a few covers and one self composed song, more was actually happening right when you decided to go, leaving the ongoing party behind your backs.

“But they organized free beer. I think I might forgive them,” you added, slurring your words a little and occasionally bumping into Hoseok in the process of trying to stay steady on your feet.

Drinking wasn’t probably the smartest idea you could think of after considering two facts. One: Hoseok hadn't drunk even a sip beacuse he was driving. Two: you had an awful habit of becoming too honest under the influence. And combining those two things was like sitting on a bomb and waiting for it to explode any minute.  

You sat in Hoseok’s car with heavy exhale of relief. “Remind me to never drink that much again when I have to study the next day.” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your head on the window.  

“Noted.” Hoseok sat down as well, smirking to himself. He reached for the keys but your next words stopped him.

“Can we like, stay here for a while? In your car I mean.” you asked with hesitation in your voice and Hoseok's eyebrows rose high.

“Why?”  

“Because it feels nice here. And maybe I don't wanna go back just yet.” The words slipped out from your mouth so casually that you didn’t even noticed the change in the atmosphere. To hell with consequences and aftermaths, to hell with becoming vulnerable when alcohol was swimming in your veins.

Hoseok smiled, even though you couldn’t see him. “Fine. But puke in here and I swear to God–”

“Geez, I hadn’t drink that much,” you snapped, opening your eyes. “Turn on some music, mister drummer. Hit me with that punk rock hits.”

Maybe you had drunk that much after all.  

Hoseok chuckled to himself, opening his Spotify and connecting it to the car's radio. “What do you have in mind?”  

“Do I look like an expert?” you retorted for the second time this night and Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Just put it on shuffle and I’ll tell you what I like.”  

He did as he was told and soon the heavy beats of something that said Stairway to Heaven lighted up on the screen in front of you. You scrunched your eyebrows. “Stairway to Heaven, Highway to Hell, what’s next? Freeway to Purgatory?”  

There was a moment of silence before you erupted into laughter. “Fuck, that was funny. Admit it.” you said, wiping the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes.  

“I'm pretty sure someone had come up with this joke before.”

“God, you’re no fun. Only intellectuals can understand this type of humor and unfortunately, you aren’t one.”  

Hoseok ignored your words, changing the song and this one you recognized more than well. “Leave it!” you blurted, causing him to smirk.  

“Ah, right. I forgot you’re that original,” he said in mocking tone.

Your lips turned into a scoff. “Hey, don’t disrespect Arctic Monkeys’ AM album this way. That's a masterpiece of modern discography, better than your ‘classics’ sang by old dudes. Alex Turner is hot at least.” You pointed your index finger at him accusingly. When he was about to disagree, you added,  “Besides, you have this on your playlist, so don't try to bullshit me right now. You like it as well.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat. “Okay. I wanna be yours it's a nice song. I admit it.”

“Yeah. It is,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a second, basking in the moment. “I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your mouth and your heartbeat immediately quickened in panic. Fuck, had you really said that out loud? The look of pure surprise mixed with amusement on Hoseok's face were telling you that you indeed revealed that you wanted to get dicked down while Arctic Monkeys played in the background. And of all people you knew, you had to do it in his presence.  

Screw your drank thoughts and fantasies, screw stupid string of fate that always played games with you, even now.

You tried to compose yourself a little, acting completely nonchalant about what had just happened. You wore a disguise of unbotherness as best you could (which was pointless, your flushed cheeks and uneasy way you squirmed on your seat said it all for you).

You wished Hoseok didn’t react, that he somehow had misheard your drunken rumbling but it was all foolish hopes.

“Careful what you wish for, princess, because you might just get it.” he whispered and you could swear his voice was lower now, it carried husskiness that weren’t there before. It wasn’t a warning.

 It was a threat.

You gulped, your face heating up instantly even more, if that was possible. Suddenly it was hard to breathe in a limited space of his car and you wanted to get out, to run away from him as fast as you could muster and hide, not standing face to face with him ever again.

But at the same time you couldn’t shake off the thought how good and right would it feel if you pressed your lips against his now, run your tongue through the seam of his mouth just to hear him groan in response, just to feel his teeth nipping the skin on your neck while his fingers were digging marks on your hips. 

You wanted him, oh, God how much you did, but you had to stop yourself before you made a big mistake.

The atmosphere was thick and heavy with unresolved tension, ready to snap in a minute if only someone made a wrong move. His words rang in your head and you wished you had never left your house that night in first place. Was he for real? Or had he said that only to make fun of you after?  

You were too scared to look in his eyes but if you did, you would see in them the raw desire swimming in his dark orbs. And if you did, you would know just how sure of his words he actually was.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you regained your composure as best as you could and muttered, “I don't feel well. Can you drive me home now?” Your tone wasn’t probably much convincing, if anything it sounded weak and strangled, so you added to lighten up the mood, “You don't want me to puke in here, do you?” and forced out a chuckle.  

Hoseok only nodded in response, reaching for the keys and turning on the engine. If he was disappointed, he hid it pretty well. After a few minutes of ride back to your home, there was mute between you, except for the music still playing from the radio. His words not even for a second left your head and you replayed them again and again just to make you more and more confused with each time you tried to understand the hidden motive behind them.

Hoseok was hard to read, you realised that since he had became strangely silent after you asked him about his plans for the future on your first coffee meeting at Blue Side. Now you knew why. He’d said he had a lot to reveal about himself yet, after all.

When you bid him short goodbye and finally reached the doors of your apartment, you crunched down on the ground after closing them and shut your eyes tightly. Somehow, tears started to ran down your face and you found yourself clutching your phone and dialing the only number you could think about in this moment.  

“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” Hana's voice was hoarse, she had been woken up from her slumber without a doubt. “You know I go to sleep earlier than you,” There was a sniffle on the other line and she changed her tone immediately. “What's wrong, bub? Why are you crying?”  

“I’m not crying,” you tried to protest shakily but there was no point in denying when you sounded like that.  

“What happened?” You heard Hana asking softly.

Another wave of tears jolted your body, smearing mascara all down your cheeks and when you calmed down enough to speak clearly, you mumbled, “I told Hoseok that I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

“Okay…? And how did he react?”

Another sob. “He said I should be careful what I wish for.”

There was a bit of silence before Hana sighed on the other side of the line. “That's not the end of the world. You’ve done worse things in your life.”

“But that's different this time.” you cried out hysterically.  

Hana smiled to herself even though you couldn’t see her now. She knew why it was different. She was aware for a while now, but she needed you to say this out loud.  

A loud cry echoed through the quiet apartment before you finally said what had been lying on the tip of your tongue for a while now.

“It's different because I think I really like him.”

And fresh fall of tears streamed down your cheeks.  

---

a/n: aaaah! it’s finally here! i was supposed to post this by the end of february but my laptop got broken and i got a new one yesterday so im sorry for the delay:( i hope you like it! 

ps. second part is coming in two or weeks! love you, julia. xx

[maybankiara]

Some angsty Topper? Like Topper x Ex-Girlfriend? Idk I just love topper

LIGHT THEM ALL UP, KISS THEM GOODBYE

pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

summary: The Thorntons invite your family over for dinner and considering their son is your ex-best friend and ex-boyfriend whom you haven’t spoken to since the breakup almost a year ago, you think there’s only one way the night could go down. Except you’re wrong.

word count: 4k

warnings: mild cursing

additional: heavy angst; i genuinely don’t know how this turned into an absolute monster but hey, i loved writing it.

requests are open

In retrospect, you should’ve told them something closer to the truth – but hey, hindsight is 20/20, right?

  When your phone rings, you’re at the shopping mall with your friends on the mainland. It takes about twenty seconds of the phone call to ruin your entire day, all in an eight-word long sentence.

  ‘The Thorntons invited us over for dinner tonight.’

  You’re told to wear something nice, and you tell your mother that she doesn’t need to worry about that. She asks if everything’s alright, and you lie through gritted teeth, saying you’re getting frustrated with being unable to find anything nice at the mall.

  She buys it. You’re in the clear, at least with her. When you walk out of the changing room and your friends see your face, the only explanation you give them is, ‘My family is going over to Topper’s for dinner.’

  They nod, sigh, gasp, and let you rage in silence for the rest of the trip as you wrap up sooner than planned, so you’d have enough time to get ready.

  Mentally more so than physically, but somehow it’s almost the same thing.

  It’s been almost a year since you broke up with Topper – or he broke up with you. You’re still not really clear on what happened, mostly because you decided to erase the whole thing out of your memory.

  ‘You okay?’ your best friend asks.

  Wind blows into your hair as you’re on the boat for the island, and you know you’re going to need to wash it to get it all nice and prepped for the dinner.

  You nod, because it’s half-true, and that’s enough. ‘I’m not too worried. It’s just one dinner.’

  ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

  ‘Nah,’ you say, pulling a smile from somewhere. ‘I’m too tough for that.’

  It appeases her enough so she doesn’t ask you any more questions, and you breathe out when she isn’t looking. The rest of your friends are chatting, and you join in from time to time, just enough so they wouldn’t question you again.

  Nobody knows the whole story. Literally nobody, considering not even you and Topper know what happened.

  One minute things were good, and the next you were screaming bloody murder at each other’s faces, and then never spoke again.

  Truth be told, you don’t even know if you ever ended things. Topper just began dating Sarah Cameron sometime later, and you would hook up with both Kooks and Pogues at the keggers.

  And now…

  ‘You sure you’re okay?’

  You nod, smile again, and say that you are.

  The more you say it, the more likely it is you’ll end up believing it.

  Your friends drop you off at your house and you enter with three shopping bags, all filled with clothes that you somehow managed to like. You’re picky, usually – but as soon as your mom called about the dinner, you decided to go shopping for the best of the best.

  ‘Hello, Y/N!’ Your mother walks out of the conservatory, holding a book in her hand. ‘How was the trip?’

  You raise the bags in response. ‘What’s the dress code?’

  ‘Casual fancy, I think. They weren’t specific.’

  ‘In that case, I got some stuff for tonight,’ you tell her. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

  She smiles, earnestly, like she always does – she has no idea what’s going on in your head right now, but it’s not her fault. ‘I’m sure you’ll look great. Topper will be there, so you won’t be alone with the adults.’

  You raise an eyebrow. ‘Since when is my brother considered an adult?’

  ‘Since he turned twenty-one, Y/N. Don’t be like that.’

  Whatever, you think, because you thought at least you’d be able to count on your brother to keep you away from the Topper mess. Turns out that’s not the case, because your brother is a big boy now, swimming in the open waters, and it’s time for him to be thrown to the sharks.

  There’s less than three hours until the dinner, so you hurry into the bathroom. You do all the preparations – shower, hair wash, blow drying (you make an attempt at a salon blowout except it really does not look like one) and prepping your skin for makeup.

  ‘Go light,’ your mother told you before you went to get ready.

  It’s not like you’d go any other way – there’s no one to impress there.

  So go with almost minimal makeup, just fixing up your blemishes, knowing it’s not worth suffering the heat with makeup on just for the Thorntons.

  Just for Topper, your mind corrects, and you groan.

  The dress you got for the occasion is a burgundy summer dress, made out of light material and loose below your waist, with short feathery sleeves and a modest cleavage that no one is going to give you shit about.

  In it, you look and feel pretty.

  A fleeting thought goes through your head; Is Topper going to care?

  The car ride is quiet, but that’s the usual for your family. Your brother’s on his phone, texting someone; your dad’s dealing with business things on the passenger seat; and your mom is making sure you don’t crash as she drives.

  It’s going to be a fun night.

  As soon as you enter the Thornton mansion, memories begin to overflow your thoughts, and you have to blink them away. Topper’s father welcomes you and his expression softens when he sees you, and that’s how you realise that Topper hasn’t told his parents the truth, either.

  A couple of liars – that’s what you were.

  ‘Hello,’ he says, ‘it’s lovely to see you all. Y/N, you look lovely.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Thornton.’

  You smile at him and he smiles right back, leading you and your family into the dining hall. Did Topper tell them we remained friends, like I did? Your families were too interconnected to fall apart because of the two of you.

  A couple of liars.

  You’d know your way around here in your sleep.

  The dining room, when you enter, is filled with chatter of Topper’s family and his siblings. There’s three Thornton children, and your ex-boyfriend is the middle one. His older brother is your brother’s age, and his sister is about ten years old. They’re all bringing food from the kitchen, and you’re assuming Topper’s the one maneuvering everything – he’s good at that.

  You take a seat, and so does the rest of your family, and the Thorntons are as lovely hosts as ever. The polite chatter is keeping on and you’re smiling through the nervousness, ignoring the unease in the pit of your stomach, because you’re cool. You can stick through this.

  And you manage to convince yourself of that – until Topper walks in, wearing a suit with the tie that you bought him for his seventeenth birthday, and his lands on you and everything just kind of…

  It drifts away.

  All you see is Topper. He’s standing at the doorway, frozen mid-step. His eyes are staring right into yours and your mind is replaying every single instance in which this has happened before – you see him right before your first kiss, before the first time you slept together, after you cried when your dad was in a car accident, after you consoled him when Rafe leashed out on him.

  It all comes back in a single moment, and you inhale, sharply.

  Topper looks away. The spell is broken.

  It seems that nobody else has noticed what happened between the two of you, so the dinner continues as normal. You are sitting opposite Topper’s little sister and your brother is sitting opposite Topper’s older brother, and you don’t have to see Topper’s face throughout the whole dinner. Your parents make conversation, you smile and answer politely when asked; you know better than to let anyone know that you are deeply uncomfortable.

  Thankfully, both your families consider themselves above the law, and you and Topper are allowed to drink despite being underage. You drink champagne, glass after glass, and out of the corner of you eye, you see him doing the same.

  Where the fuck did we go wrong?

  It’s been over an hour when the eating part of the dinner is finished. Topper’s sister miscalculated and the dessert she prepared is going to take longer, so the adults decide it’s time for chatter with alcohol.

  It’s all good, until Topper’s father looks at you. ‘You don’t have to be with us, kids.’

  You smile. ‘It’s all right, Mr. Thornton. I don’t mind.’

  ‘Oh, no need to be so polite, Y/N,’ your mother chimes in. ‘You don’t have to stay with us old people.’

  ‘Your mother is right!’ Topper’s mom says, grinning wide, alcohol already hitting her a little bit. She nudges the champagne bottle in your direction. ‘You kids go have fun.’

  Your eyes meet your father’s, but you don’t find what you’re looking for – he’s not opposed to the idea. Your brother, on the other hand, seems a little bit bitter about you having the ability to go away, and he doesn’t even know how much you’d pay to be able to switch places with him.

  Topper is the one who takes the champagne bottle. ‘Thanks, Mom. Tell us when the desert is ready, will you?’

  Once this is arranged, Topper looks at you – he doesn’t say anything, not for a second, but you see the question in his eyes.

  Are you okay with this?

  You don’t say anything. He smiles at you, a charade for the families, and asks, ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Yes.’ You smile back.

  It’s painful.

  Topper’s sister follows the two of you to the upper floor, and you walk her to her room. She shuts the door in your faces – the classic Thornton behaviour. You chuckle, because this is far from the first time she’s done this to you, and then you stop yourself as soon as you become aware of what you’re doing.

  ‘Look—’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to you right now,’ you say.

  Topper presses his lips together; you see him being on the verge of speaking up, but he doesn’t. He leads you to his room instead, gripping the champagne bottle in his hand.

  You’re glad you’re the one carrying the glasses.

  The moment you enter Topper’s room, closing the door behind you, is the moment the illusion you’d forced yourself to believe in shatters.

  This is the place where you were in love.

  Topper walks up to you and motions for you to hold the glasses upright. You do that, and he pours champagne in them. The bottle is almost full, but you have a feeling there is going to be nothing left in it by the time the two of you are called back down for dessert.

  ‘I didn’t have a choice,’ you tell him, without looking at him. ‘My mom just told me that we’re coming here.’

  He doesn’t say anything. You raise your eyes to look at him, but he’s turned to you with his back, looking out of the window with a glass in his hands.

  You feel awkward, out of place, and definitely somewhere you aren’t supposed to be.

  The alcohol in you makes you chuckle; Topper turns around, looking at you with curiosity on his face.

  ‘Never thought I’d be back here.’ You motion to the room, but you mean the situation, and you feel like he knows. ‘Last time we were here—

  ‘Yeah,’ Topper cuts you off, ‘it wasn’t nice.’

  Before you manage to think through your actions, you plop on the bed, sitting on your knees. Topper joins you, sitting right next to you, and you try to block away the memories you made on this exact bed.

  You look at him and catch him looking at you. Your lips part and you’re almost about to say something, but it runs away from you.

  Instead, you look at him, for the first time in almost a year.

  His hair is a little longer, a little more loose and carefree. It’s blonder, too, and that’s from spending a lot of time in the sun. His cheekbones are more prominent, his jaw more chiselled, his lips fuller, his eyes bluer. He looks more grown up, less foolish, less likely to fuck you over.

  You clear your throat. It’s not good to dwell on things that are no longer.

  ‘How’s you and Sarah?’

  Topper holds your gaze for a second, then looks away, taking a big gulp out of his glass. ‘We broke up, over a month ago. Left me for a Pogue. Thought you’d heard.’

  ‘My friends know better than to talk about you.’

  ‘Wow. Nice.’

  You’re the one who takes the big gulp, this time. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say that – but your mind is a little fuzzy, and all the things you’ve never said out loud are coming back up again against your will.

  Maybe it’s the same for him. Maybe his mind, too, is going through the last time they were in this room together, trying to figure out what went wrong, trying to remember.

  You finish the glass. Topper pours you another one, then does the same for himself.

  ‘Topper.’

  ‘Hm?’

  It takes you a long second to shift in the bed so you’d be looking at him. You realise you don’t know what you’re about to say – it’s not your head saying it, it’s your heart, but you decide you’re beyond giving a fuck.

  So you shrug and take a sip. ‘I’m sorry for being a shitty girlfriend.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ He shakes his head, leaning against the head board. His shirt is wrinkled and the tie you got him looks a little off, but he looks exactly the way you remember him. ‘It wasn’t you who fucked it up.’

  ‘You’re wrong. I couldn’t – It was too much.’

  His eyes hold your gaze again, and you feel the world slow down. You think of the screaming match and it’s the first time that you manage to recall what happened.

  It hurts. It fucking hurts.

  Topper chuckles, but it’s the dry kind, humourless. ‘No. I didn’t understand what I was doing. I thought I was doing all the things I was supposed to be doing, being caring and loving, and the only thing I was, was overprotective.’

  You look at him, at notice that he isn’t looking at you. His eyes are glassy and his Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows, clearing his throat. ‘I kept doing things that weren’t okay and I blamed you when you thought they were too much. I accused you of – of things that I shouldn’t have seen as bad.’

  ‘Top, hey—’

  ‘Don’t, okay?’ He turns his head to you and the weight of his gaze is almost too much for you to bear. ‘I liked the idea of loving you, taking care of you, more than I was actually in love with you.’

  You look away. His words echo in your head, and each time they do, it feels as if a part of your soul is being cut.

  I liked the idea of loving you more than I was actually in love with you.

  You feel sick, and it’s not the alcohol.

  Time wears on and you don’t know if you’re getting more drunk, or if the tension between you two is going into an odd direction. It’s not uncomfortable, per se – it feels almost as if there’s something fundamentally wrong about the whole thing.

  ‘Fuck this, Topper. What the fuck were you thinking?’

  He glances at you, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know. I thought I was doing the right thing. But I keep fucking up. I didn’t even realise what I was doing.’

  ‘I was pissed off at you because you never listened to me when I said I was okay,’ you tell him, finally, for the first time. ‘I’d tell you that you don’t need to worry about me, but you’d go ahead and do it, and you’d tell me all those things, and I didn’t know how to react, and it got to the point where it was all too much to handle, and…and…Fuck, I don’t know anymore.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I’ve been trying to keep you from getting hurt and…’

  You nod, chuckling, just as drily as he had before. ‘And you ended up being the one doing it.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Fuck,’ you say again. You haven’t sworn this much in a long time, but it’s pouring out of you. ‘I couldn’t be with you because I thought you were too in love with me. Turns out you weren’t in love with me, at all.’

  ‘What?’

  You glance at Topper, lazily, feeling the weight of the glass between your fingers. He looks a little hazy and it makes you smile; it makes you think of all the other memories you have of him looking hazy, and all of them fill your heart with warmth.

  ‘It’s okay,’ you reassure him. ‘I don’t think I would’ve let you love me, anyway. Even I couldn’t love myself back then.’

  Topper stares at you for a long second, as if comprehending what you’ve just said. ‘No. No, Y/N, you’ve got it all wrong, and I have no idea where all this is coming from—’

  ‘Shh.’ You put a finger against his lips, giggling. ‘Stop talking. You’re going to ruin everything.’

  Your fingers slips and Topper sighs, moving on the bed to be closer to you. You can smell his cologne – the fancy shit he’s always worn, the one that you loved the most.

  ‘What am I going to ruin?’

  ‘Everything,’ you whisper.

  Topper shakes his head. ‘I already have.’

  ‘Not this moment. That’s still ours to take.’

  ‘You’re drunk,’ he states, and you laugh.

  He leans his back against the headboard again and you’re the one who comes closer this time, leaning your head against his shoulder. It’s a gesture that’s as natural to you as breathing; his warmth feels as if it’s never gone away. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, holding you steady, you close your eyes and pretend the last year never happened.

  Topper’s fingers slither beneath the short sleeves, rubbing circles into the skin on your shoulder. ‘I never said I wasn’t in love with you, Y/N. I just thought it was a different thing.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ you murmur into his chest.

  ‘I do, because of Sarah. I treated her the same, until I realised I just liked how people saw me when I was with her. With you, it was a completely different thing. I preferred being alone with you, to being seen, but I overdid it. It’s – I regret it. Every day.’

  ‘You weren’t in love with me.’

  ‘I was,’ he says. ‘I am.’

  You open your eyes, staring ahead of you. Your mind processes the words Topper’s just said – it can’t be real, right? You’ve spent the last year of your life believing he thought of you as his possession, as a trophy to be won, but somehow it doesn’t feel like that anymore.

  His fingers are still rubbing circles on your skin, and it soothes you. It’s not possessive; he doesn’t make you look at him and tell him you heard what he said.

  He doesn’t expect anything from you. Not anymore.

  You empty your glass and put it away. Topper does the same, and you notice that you were right – the two of you have managed to finish that bottle of champagne.

  When your hands reach for his, intertwining your fingers, it happens without a thought. It’s a mere instinct, based on years of confiding in the person you’re with, something that goes deeper than romantic love could. You’re best friends – you were, before you dated. You grew up together. You knew each other better than anyone else in the world.

  And then, you ended up loving each other too much how to deal with that.

  ‘We were young,’ you say, quietly. Your thumb traces over his, and you feel how he doesn’t know how to react. ‘We were foolish. Dumb. We thought we had everything figured out.’

  ‘It fucked us up.’

  You raise your head and shift backwards, so you could look at him. He’s looking at you with tears in his eyes, and you know there’s tears in yours, too. ‘We’re never going to have everything figured out.’

  He just nods, waiting for you to continue.

  You don’t even know what you’re going to say, but you still manage to find words. They come from a place you didn’t know existed – a place you thought you buried months ago.

  ‘We didn’t know how to love each other and we thought we did,’ you whisper. ‘We thought too much. Maybe if we don’t…’

  ‘I know myself,’ Topper says. His finger stop circling on your skin and instead hold you, safely. ‘I know the difference between the person I was when I fucked up and I know who I am now.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  He smiles at you. You forgot how much you loved it when he’d smile at you, except this smile was sad – please, don’t make me plead.

  Topper’s already confessed his feelings. You shouldn’t be thinking this way.

  You lean into him again, letting your body react to his in all the ways that feel like home. ‘I couldn’t let myself be in love with you because I couldn’t figure out how you felt about me. I always felt like your possession.’

  ‘And I treated you like one. But that’s not me anymore.’

  ‘I know. I can tell.’

  ‘You can?’

  ‘Yeah.’ You smile in his chest, pulling his hand up to his abdomen, so you could see it. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, but you can’t ignore how right it feels. ‘I’m still in love with you, too, Top.’

  You hear him breathe out; you feel his body relax underneath you.

  ‘Do you think we could not hurt each other again?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ you admit, ‘but we’ll never know, if we don’t try.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Do you want to?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think I do.’

  You shift away from Topper, fully separating from him for the first time since laying your head against his shoulder. You shudder at the lack of his warmth surrounding you, but you smile at his face – at the way he looks at you.

  His lips are parted a little, and his cheeks are a little wet, and you remember the Topper you used to date would never allow himself to be vulnerable in front of anyone, not even you. Now, his eyes are glassy but full of excitement, of thrill, of all the same feelings that are in your chest, too.

  Topper reaches for your cheek and you lean into his touch. It’s all too familiar, and all too new at once; you’re excited. It feels Right.

  His thumb brushes the edge of your lips and he straightens his back, but he doesn’t move. He’s always been respectful – before, it was because it was expected of him. Now, it feels as if he understands it.

  ‘Let’s try not to break each other’s heart again,’ you say.

  Topper nods, and smiles, but it’s cautious, as if he’s waiting for the moment to burst. ‘Are you sure?’

  Instead of a response, you press your lips against his, and when he pulls you into his arms, against his chest, you feel at home again.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste ch. 1-2

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi's Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we're all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone's well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila's brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: Gabriel decides that Adrien entering a romantic relationship is a good move for the brand. He chooses Lila Rossi as the other half. Adrien nopes tf out.

Notes: I was gonna have it be a slow acceleration, but Adrien was all “Go big or go home.” Also trying to find motivation to write more of this fic.

AO3 link

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“No,” Adrien growled. “Absolutely not!”

Lila made a show of crying, not that anyone in the room believed her tears were real.

Gabriel frowned at him from his desk. “This will be good for the brand—”

“Fuck the brand!”

“Adrien! This is unbecoming. You will be seen to be dating Ms. Rossi. That is final.”

Adrien’s fists were so tight he was sure he had crescents eating into his palms. “Like hell it is! I will not date that—” he gestured at Lila “—lying cow. Not after how she’s hurt my friends.”

Said girl gasped, outraged, and Adrien was glad to see she actually looked truly upset.

His father stood, but kept his voice emotionless, calm, self-assured that he would capitulate. “Cease this ridiculous teenage rebellion.”

He saw red, but oddly it calmed him. “Father, you have not seen teenage rebellion,” he said, his voice almost terrifyingly calm. “But I would be happy to teach you what it looks like if you try to force me to do this.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Adrien could see him considering that, but then discarding it. “It will be in the papers tomorrow. If you misbehave, you’ll no longer be permitted to go to school.”

Adrien snorted. He knew more ways to escape this house than his father could possibly anticipate—some he’d made himself, even. “Good luck, Gabe. You’re going to need it.”

He spun on his heel before his father could respond and slammed the door behind him. With the enhanced strength he had as the Black Cat Miraculous chosen, the wood cracked audibly.

As he made his way back to his room, he realized the opportunity his father had just placed in his lap. As the face of the brand, Adrien had more power than Gabriel seemed to realize. It was time to stretch those muscles.

He had planning to do.

---------

His father had spectacularly good timing for pulling this kind of stunt—for Adrien, anyway. He’d heard from a couple of friends of his that a certain rock star was in town. And if anyone was up for promoting teenage rebellion, Adrien had no doubt it would be Jagged Stone.

It was child’s play to sneak out of the house. He didn’t even have to transform to do it. From there it was just making his way to the Grand Paris Hotel. The staff assumed he was there to see Chloé, so getting in was no problem. Jagged Stone always rented the same suite, so that wasn’t an issue, either.

The hard part, he knew, would come after he knocked on the door.

Jagged opened the door, and then peered at him suspiciously.

“Um, M. Stone, I don’t know if you remember me but—”

The rock star suddenly broke into a wide grin. “Oh, you’re Marinette’s model friend, right?”

Adrien blinked. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. His rock idol knew him?

Sadly, he had no time to fanboy.

“Yes, Adrien. I was wondering if I could trouble you for some help?”

And so that was how Adrien Agreste wound up sitting in Jagged Stone’s suite, petting Fang, and telling him about the woe that was the obsession his father had with Lila Rossi, Liar Extraordinaire.

“She said I had a what?”

“A kitten. And she got Marinette expelled and is just being really awful to her.”

Jagged opened a cell phone. “Penny, I need you. Yes, I know I sent you for macrons, but this is really important. Bring my niece with.”

When he was finished, he turned to Adrien again. “We’ll get that taken care of.”

“That’s not all, M. Stone.”

He pressed forward, telling his idol of the relationship he was being forced into and his promise to show Gabriel Agreste just what he could do if he really rebelled.

When he was done, Jagged’s face was gleeful in an almost terrifying way.

“Oh, please tell me I get to help with this?” At Adrien’s nod the man whooped in excitement. “Brilliant. Once my niece gets here, we’ll plan properly. She’s a planner, that one. Smart as a whip.”

Adrien blinked. “Your niece?”

“Marinette, of course! Honorary niece.”

His jaw dropped. Marinette had always had the upper hand on Lila, could call in Jagged at any moment to destroy her, and had held back. He never should’ve stopped her.

“My father can’t know she helped. He’s got so much power in the fashion industry, and I don’t want to hurt her career.”

Jagged waved away his concerns. “Mate, listen. From what I understand you’re the face of that company. You have the power, not him. Get you in some Marinette originals, and he can’t undo the fame that’ll bring her.”

Adrien hadn’t considered that. “I just don’t want her hurt.”

He heard the door open, and then a soft, “Adrien?”

It meant he had to explain the situation all over again, letting Jagged Stone assure her that he was going to pop the liar’s kitten whopper as soon as possible.

“I can stop by your school with Fang, yeah? They can’t keep me from saying hi to my favorite niece.”

Marinette bit her lip. “That would be helpful, but for Adrien…”

Adrien smiled. “I want you to design me a new look. Something we can do here and now—maybe with the discrete help of some of the hotel staff, since they have that nice spa and such. Hair dye, new clothes. Maybe some fake piercings. Oooh, a fake tattoo?”

Jagged glanced at Penny, who looked uncertain about this. “Don’t be a party pooper, Penny.”

“His father might sue you,” she pointed out.

“Like I care. I have money.” He grinned. “And for what? Giving his kid a makeover?”

“French law—”

“Nope, don’t care. It’s happening. Get his sizes and go to my favorite stores. Adrien, what color scheme?”

Adrien blinked. He hadn’t thought that far. He glanced at Marinette. “Um, do you think Chat Noir would mind if I used his colors? I think of him when I think teenage rebellion.”

That was more because being Chat Noir had up to this point been his way of rebelling, but she didn’t need to know that.

To his surprise, Marinette grinned, the smile wide enough to match Jagged’s. “Oh, I like that idea. Chains and spikes? Fake lip ring and septum?”

“Absolutely!”

Jagged made a shooing motion at Penny, who rolled her eyes and headed toward the door, before joining in. “Now how about this idea: black and neon green hair, done to look like a skunk’s stripes!”

Adrien was surprised to find himself laughing honestly at the idea. He’d been so angry less than an hour ago, but this was truly fun. “This makes me think of those J-Rock bands, how they used to dress up.”

Jagged’s phone let out a guitar riff and he glanced at it. “Oh, right. Penny needs your measurements. Shoe size, too. Definitely some stomping boots, I think.”

He handed over his unlocked phone for Adrien to text.

“I’ll call the salon, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, texting the information, then froze. “Wait, Chloé might tell my father.”

That got a laugh. “Nah. They’re discrete. They bring everything up here for me—I won’t be around people if I’m getting my hair dyed.”

While Jagged made the call, Adrien finished the text. When he looked up, Marinette was watching him. She turned pink when she realized he’d caught her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked after a moment.

He sighed, slumping back on the sofa and resting his hand on Fang’s head again. “No, but I don’t have any better ones. That stupid news claiming I’m with Lila’s going to hit tomorrow. And I’m so done with this, with him treating me like I’m property.”

Marinette looked worried, and he tried to muster up a smile. From her expression, he didn’t manage it.

“Maybe…” she started, then trailed off.

“Maybe?”

She didn’t look at him. “Maybe you should look into laws involving child labor and parental responsibility. You… you might be able to get emancipated.”

That startled him—something he hadn’t even thought of before. He hadn’t even been aware it was an option.

When Marinette did look at him, her eyes were stormy. “He’s so… cruel to you. Maybe there’s legal recourse.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured. That seemed like such a drastic measure. “I don’t know if I want to go that far.”

She nodded, and he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Plagg shot out of his pocket the moment the door was closed. “I’m so proud of you kid. This is gonna be great!”

“Thanks, Plagg.”

The kwami grabbed the proffered wedge of camembert.

“And think about what Pigtails said. Your dad’s a real piece of work, and you deserve better.”

“I will.”

Adrien could feel the idea turning over in his mind, as though gathering strength. When he left the bathroom, Jagged met him excitedly.

“I have just the idea! A temporary face tattoo!”