#couldn’t make rent last month which was�� not good lmao

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Like what I do? Consider tipping me or making a request on ko-fi!

My financial situation has been quite not good since the beginning of this year and continues to be a struggle, so every bit of support is much appreciated and gives me more brain-space to focus on fandom instead of trying to calculate if I can afford groceries.

[lipglossanon]

They Were Roommates

୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

Roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

For the anon who asked for roommate Leon! 💜 I hope I did it justice 😬 🫣 this is pretty much just smut not much lead up 🫣

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight oral, cum swallowing, uhh I think that’s all lol

Not proofread (you know me 💁‍♀️ lmao)

Title pulled from a vine! It’s one of my faves lmao 🤣 ୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

“What do you mean you didn’t put in the ad?”

You know your voice is pitching higher, but this couldn’t get any worse. The guy at least has the good grace to look apologetic. 

He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess my old roommate put that out but he ended up moving instead of me. He never told me he even made an ad, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Frustrated tears prick your eyes but you ignore them.

“So there’s no room to rent? This is literally my last resort before sleeping out in my car.”

He looks at your earnest face and the bags at your feet. You watch as his blue eyes dart back into the apartment and he frowns. 

“Well, do you have any references?” He finally sighs, “if you’ll give me their numbers, I’ll call them and if everything’s kosher I’ll let you rent the room.”

“Really?” Your smile lights up your whole face, “yes, I have some printed out. You’d really be doing me a favor.”

He blushes as you hand him the reference paper in question, looking down at it then back up at you, “I just don’t feel comfortable letting you go without somewhere to stay.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” you nod your head at the paper, “I’ll chill out here until you’re finished with that.”

“No,” he shakes his head, opening the door wider, “you can at least sit in the living room. I’ll make these calls and we can go from there.”

And that’s how your first meeting with Leon S. Kennedy, your current roommate, went.  So after months of living together, getting used to each other’s schedules and eating habits, you fall into a really nice and comfortable pattern. Leon is tidy and polite, but also kinda dorky and sweet. 

You find yourself excited to come home after a long, grueling day at the office. Leon works in law enforcement so sometimes he’s working opposite hours from yourself; this week, however, your schedules are synced and it’s Friday night which means movies and pizza. Even better is you got to leave work early, a rare occurrence that you won’t take for granted!

Opening the front door, you drop your keys back in your bag and sing out, “Honey, I’m home!”

You hear a muffled thud from the living room, making you pause in the entryway—door half shut behind you. 

“Leon?” you call out hesitantly. 

Hearing no answer, you quietly set your bag down and slowly inch your way further in the apartment. You peek around the wall into the living room and hold in a gasp. 

Leon is practically naked, the only thing covering his modesty is the flimsy boxers he has on—doing nothing to disguise the fact his dick’s hard. 

You notice a box of tissues tipped over in the floor along with lube which must be what caused the noise. Covering your mouth with your hand, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. 

Leon has his phone in hand, headphones connected, as he splays out lazily on the couch. His thighs are spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. You can see his other hand slide underneath the band of his underwear and jerk himself off in his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glued to his phone, hand picking up speed. 

He rests his head on the back of the couch for a moment then pulls his cock completely out of his boxers. You have to swallow down a whine as you see how big and thick Leon’s cock is, throbbing in his hand as he pulls the foreskin down to show off the fat, oozing tip. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache in your clit.

Leon groans low in his throat and slowly strokes his cock, teasing his fingertips across the head.  He fingers the slit, precum oozing out and coating his fingers making them sticky. He sets his phone on the couch so he can keep watching but use both hands on himself. 

He pants and keeps slowly teasing himself with slow, light touches using one hand on his cock as the other gently rolls and tugs his balls. Your mouth waters at the thought of walking the rest of the way into the room and getting on your knees in front of him. As you watch Leon, slick drips from your pussy and fills your panties, making them wet and clingy. 

Leon tosses his head back with a low moan. He humps up into his hand as he fucks his fist in short steady strokes. Pausing, he reaches down for the lube and coats his hand in the clear, shiny liquid. He brings his coated palm back to his dick and moans as he jerks himself off more easily. 

“So wet,” he whispers to himself, “being so good for me, huh.”

You feel shameful arousal curling in your belly as you watch Leon in a private, intimate, moment; but you can’t help ask why he’d do this in the living room? You know you’re home early, but—

Wait, your eyes widen as your brain whirs with thoughts— is this even the first time? You bite your lip to stop yourself from whining. God, how many times has Leon jerked off in the living room while you weren’t here? Or even when you were??

“So good,” Leon’s voice rumbles, “suck that cock, baby, fuck.”

His hips slowly thrust up as his hand tightens around the thick shaft, “You’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth, sweetheart.”

Those words make you dizzy with arousal, a hot surge flooding your body so quickly it feels like you’re going to pass out. You rub your thighs together and can feel yourself starting to leak through your panties. 

Leon starts to fist his cock more roughly, precum and lube oozing over his knuckles. 

He groans, voice gravelly, “Can barely fit me in your mouth, baby.”

He bucks his hips up hard, “God, can even see how far you get cause of that ring of lipstick around my cock.”

You bite into the meat of your palm to curb any sounds, not wanting to get caught. You swallow thickly at the thought of getting caught while watching Leon get off. Maybe he’d want to see how far your mouth would fit around him. Leave your own sheen of strawberry lipgloss around his fat length. You rub your thighs together again, feeling more turned on than ever before in your life.  

Leon groans, pulling your attention back to him away from your own thoughts. One of his hands is still tugging his heavy looking balls while the other keeps a tight tunnel formed around his cock. 

You really want to touch yourself, but it’s hotter to just watch Leon. You can always get off later, remembering this moment.

Your wide eyes continue to watch as the leaky tip of Leon’s dick peeks out of his fist on every stroke—teasing you with the promise of hot cum on your tongue if you only dared enough to go in there for a taste. 

He quickly jerks himself harder, sounds of shlick shlick shlick filling the air. Leon starts humping up into his slick fist, growling in satisfaction as he rolls his hips just right.

“Fuck, you take it so well, baby. A tight little throat just for me.”

Your nipples tighten under your bra, clit throbbing with need. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking down your thighs now. Torn between wanting to leave to touch yourself or watch Leon finish, you ultimately want to see him come undone. 

“Gonna cum all over that cute face, sweetheart,” Leon moans out, thrusting his hips harder as his hand strokes faster. 

Leon’s head lolls back on the couch, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster to completion.

“Yes, fuck,” he groans, low and deep, as ropes of cum spurt across his abs and chest, coating himself in white sticky strands. 

Your pussy flutters, aching and throbbing— needing something in your wet hole. Eyes darting up to his blissed out expression, his own eyes thankfully closed, you quietly tiptoe backwards to the front door. 

You pick your bag up off of the floor and pull the half open door completely open and walk out. You softly shut the door and lean back against it, blowing out a harsh breath.

You really don’t know how you’re going to react when you look Leon in the face, but I guess that’s just something you’ll wing when you get to it. 

Giving yourself several minutes to calm down, you finally re enter the apartment acting like it’s the first time. 

“Heey I’m home!” You yell, a little louder than usual, but you really hope Leon hears you this time. 

“Oh uh, hey,” you hear Leon call back, voice nervous, “you’re home early.”

“Yep!” you take more time than usual to close and lock the door behind you, dropping your bag in the floor near the coatrack. 

“Cool, I haven’t ordered the pizza if you wanna go ahead. I’m actually gonna grab a quick shower,” you can hear his voice get further away as he walks deeper into the apartment. 

You listen for the bathroom door to shut and once your hear it, you let out a relieved sigh. Opening up your phone, you just order the usual Friday night spiel and walk to your bedroom. 

Once inside, you close and lock the door. You shed your clothes like they’re on fire and quickly climb into your bed. This isn’t your usual way of doing things, but your brain is a little too fried to think outside of the image of Leon’s thick cock. 

You grab a pillow you only use as decoration and swing a leg over it as you kneel on top of it. Rocking your hips down, your clit grinds against the fabric and makes you whimper. Slick is steadily dripping from your needy hole as you hump your pillow, imagining Leon in its place. 

Using one hand to keep the pillow steady, your other hand comes up to tease and pinch at your nipples, shooting bolts of pleasure straight to your clit making you cry out softly. 

“Leon,” you whimper, rolling your nipples between your fingers. 

You rock against the pillow faster, already so close just from watching Leon earlier, dragging your wet sensitive clit over and over the coarse pillowcase. 

“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine out loud, eyelashes kissing your cheeks as your hips stutter and grind down, cumming so quickly it makes your thighs spasm. 

Slick covers your pillow as you shakily let your hips drop down to sit. Your clit pulses with aftershocks while you pant to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, flopping down onto your bed and pushing your used pillow into the floor. 

Your phone dings and you lazily grab it from your nightstand and look at the notification, reading that the pizza delivery is on its way. 

Pushing yourself up, you get out of bed and go to throw on some ratty pajamas when you pause. 

You pull out a sleeker, prettier matching pj set—a thin teasing top with matching  shorts. Deciding to try your luck, you put them on and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You fluff your hair and apply a quick layer of gloss on your lips, puckering them at the mirror before grinning at yourself. 

Spinning around, you make your way out of your room and into the shared living space hoping to, subtly, grab Leon’s attention as you hang out for the night. 

It works or at least maybe it does—it could be you’re looking too much into things; frowning to yourself, you shake your head and go back to relaxing on the couch. The pizza’s long since gone and now you’ve been chilling in the living room, watching b-rate horror flicks and chatting. You at least think Leon has been looking at you when you weren’t paying attention, but it’s hard to say when you’re not paying attention.  

You sigh out loud and cross your legs. 

“Something the matter?”

You start and turn to Leon with a sheepish smile, “Yeah just thinking.”

He squints his eyes at you, “Mmhmm.”

You laugh this time and kick out your foot to push his knee with your toes, “Fuck off, it’s nothing important.”

He grabs your foot and presses his thumb in the arch making you suck in a sharp breath. 

“You’ve been on your feet all day, haven’t you?” he asks, eyes looking down to his hands now rubbing your foot. 

You feel like melting into the couch cushions, a hot coil of want slowly unraveling in your belly. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “was a long day.”

His brow pinches as he looks back up to you, “Did you talk to your boss about—“

You groan and flop back into the couch arm, kicking your other foot up into Leon’s lap, “Yes, mom. I talked to him and he said until we can hire a replacement, that we’re all just gonna have to ‘do our best for the team’.”

You roll your eyes and grumble, “Like he even does anything more than clock in.”

Leon grabs your other foot and traces along the arch, “I can go talk to’em if you need me to.”

Your smile spreads across your face, “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’re so sweet, Leon.”

His blue eyes drag up from your legs and skimpy sleep shorts, across your body with the nearly sheer top, to look up into your face, “You need someone to take care of you from the sounds of it.”

You gasp out loud at that and Leon wraps his hands around your calves, yanking you down the couch til your ass lands in his lap. 

“Hoping I would notice your slutty little getup, honey?” his smoky voice murmurs in your ear, snapping the band of your shorts, “trying to show me what I’m missing out on, huh?”

Your head spins from the complete 180 Leon is pulling, but you feel a thrill run down your spine.

“Just wanted to feel pretty,” you say, feeling hot all over, hands plucking at the hem of his shirt. 

“So pretty, baby,” he affirms, hands running up your calves to your splayed thighs, thumbs softy grazing your skin. 

His hands slide from your thighs, up your hips to pet at your sides. 

“Heard you get off earlier too, honey,” he whispers hotly in your ear, “walls are thinner than you think.”

You lean back to look him in the eye, “B-but how? I thought you were in the shower.”

He grins at you, “I forgot something so I stepped out to grab it. Not like it’s the first time hearing you anyway.”

Embarrassment makes you squirm on his lap, ducking your head down, “I didn’t know.”

“Sure, baby,” he kisses your jaw, fingers dipping below the band of your shorts and panties, fingers finding your leaking hole and slowly sinking into your pussy. 

“Leon!” You cry out, spine arching until your chest is pressed against him. 

“How d’you think I don’t hear you?” He rumbles, making your nipples stiffen in your shirt, “stuffing your fingers in that needy fucking cunt night after night.”

You gasp, hips rocking down into his fingers, pussy clenching around the digits. 

“M sorry,” you hiccup, eyes watering, “I’ll do better.”

“Yeah you will,” he rubs his thumb across your swollen clit, “cause I’m gonna start giving this little pussy what she needs, whenever and wherever I want. Sound good?”

“Leon,” you whimper, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you on the couch. 

“Seems like every night, I’m in my room stripping my cock raw from those hot breathy moans you make,” he murmurs in your ear, low and smoky, “wore my fleshlight out the first month you moved in, baby.”

Your eyes rolls back as slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand. 

“Like that huh,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell, “s’true, never made such a mess til you moved in, always fucking into that fake pussy thinking of yours.”

You moan high in your throat, “Leon, please, want you so much.”

“Yeah? Y’sure? Don’t want me using my toy, want me in this needy cunt?”

“Yes, yes,” you grind your hips down harder, his fingers stretching your hole open, “want it so bad.”

You whine and tug at his wrist til he finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy.

“Gonna give it to you sweetheart,” he promises you, eyes heated and dark, “gonna fuck you open right here, and then I’m gonna bend you over that kitchen counter and eat your pretty pussy til you cry for me.”

“Leon!” You gasp wantonly, “in me please. Wanna feel you.”

He pulls out his hard cock, smacking the head against your clit, making your hips jump. 

“Sit on me, want you to ride me baby,” he grins, guiding his dick into your drippy hole but not pressing in any further. 

You whimper and rock your hips, easing down his thick cock inch by inch until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep in your pussy, it feels like he’s in your throat. You moan as he grinds up into you, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples. 

“Mmm just like that baby, feel so much better than that plastic pussy,” he groans, twisting your nipples until you’re whining, “god, love the sounds you make.”

Pulling his hands away, he slaps across your breasts making your back arch your chest towards him. 

“Leon,” you mewl, tears slipping from your eyes because of the sting.

“I know,” he soothes, slapping across your tits again, “feels good doesn’t it, baby?”

You dig your nails into his big biceps, bouncing down in his lap to stuff his cock repeatedly into your hole. 

He slaps across each hard nipple until they’re puffy and swollen. You moan and hump down on him harder, the pain bleeding into pleasure and making you even wetter. One hand dips between your bodies to softly rub across your clit; he drags his fingers lower to stroke your pussy lips, getting his fingertips wet and dragging them back up to circle around your swollen bud. 

“Greedy little thing aren’t ya, honey?” he laughs deep in his chest, “c’mon ride me a little harder, baby.”

He moves both of his hands down to grab the fat of your ass and fuck up harder into your clenching pussy. 

“Leon,” you moan, fingers digging into the tense muscles on his shoulders, “gonna cum.”

“Already?” he scoffs, “pretty easy cunt ya got here then, sweetheart.”

You cry out, the sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching from his rapid thrusts are so loud in the small living room, making your walls flutter and clamp down on his pistoning cock. 

“Wanna cum,” you sloppily kiss down Leon’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin, “want you to cum with me.”

Leon groans, sounding pained, “Sure, honey. Where do you want it?”

“My mouth,” you pant out quickly, “cum in my mouth, please.”

“Fuck,” he laughs choppily, “okay then sweetheart. I’ll cream your little throat.”

You whine and rock your hips down faster, “Yes, yes, Leon, so good.”

One hand moves to your hip to help you keep up a quick rhythm and the other goes back to rubbing and flicking your sensitive clit. 

“C’mon, honey, cum on my cock so I can fill that pretty mouth,” he smirks and shakes the hair out of his face, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”

Leon bottoms out in your pussy and just grinds against your g-spot as he teases and pinches your clit; your thighs lock up as your orgasm washes over you, pussy clamping down and milking his cock, clit throbbing under his thumb as he keeps up the slow steady circles on the sensitive nerves. 

“Good girl, good girl just for me,” he noses your hairline, feeling your body shake as he overstims your clit, “get in the floor, honey, ‘m ready for you to swallow this load.”

You moan and arch up, begrudgingly pulling yourself off of his dick so you can kneel between his thighs on the floor. 

“Want it, Leon,” your glazed eyes peer up at him, watching as he fists his cock in front of your mouth. 

“Oh you’re gonna get it, baby,” he grunts, “open that fucking mouth.”

You part you lips and loll your tongue out, whining when you feel hot spurts of jizz land on your tongue and lips. 

“Fuck that’s it,” he groans, watching you with sea dark eyes, hand slowly stroking his dick, feeding each spurt of cum into your open, eager mouth. 

You moan, the sound garbled from the cum pooling on your tongue and sliding down your throat. 

With one last groan, he lets go of his twitching cock. You watch as it droops, a drop of cum beading on the fat tip making you duck froward to lap at the head. 

“Baby,” he hisses, “a little early for me to go again,” he laughs and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. 

Your tongue darts out to lap at his thumb, “S’good though?”

“The best, sweetheart,” he leans down to pull you up in his lap, “can’t wait to taste you later.”

You sigh, eyes drooping in pleasure. Guess that pajama set really did work out in your favor. 

[bbybaku]

i’m back lol

this one’s long and kind of weird but shiggy smut as always

warnings: enemies to lovers, rough sex, choking, slapping, praise, afab reader, long intro, gamer shig, idk lmao

for your second year of college you and some friends , your girl best friend, her boyfriend and and his best friend got a 4 bedroom house.

well that was the original plan, your best friend and her boyfriend got into a study abroad program last minute with a scholarship so good they couldn’t refuse.

you knew of the boyfriends best friend but had never met him longer than in passing.

by the time this all happened the papers had already been signed and the first few months of rent had been paid.

leaving you living with a stranger.

a stranger you found after the first week that you weren’t fond of.

tomura. but you called him shigaraki because you didn’t care for him enough to call him by his first name.

while the two of you were in college, he opted to take all of his classes online. meaning he never left.

he was also nocturnal.

and addicted to video games.

which he absolutely refused to turn the volume down for. keeping you up all night.

your classes were all in person and you took your education very seriously.

your roommate did not.

he very obviously didn’t care for you or your life.

which he would remind you when the two of you bumped into each other.

at first you two just exchanged snarky comments at each other.

“you’re ugly in the morning”

he would say when you got up for class after he had been up all night.

“you’re ugly all the time” you would snap back.

or another complaint of yours to him would be that he never did his dishes. which you let him use despite everything being yours.

you started off asking nicely but he would always pick a fight about it.

he felt a woman’s place was in the kitchen.

you got him back by doing all the dishes then keeping them in your room.

after about a month and a half the snarky comments turned into screaming matches.

you would stay away from home on purpose to avoid him.

you hated him so much.

but despite all the snarky comments, he wasn’t that ugly.

you always noticed his hands. long slender fingers.

and for being a compsci major and a gamer he always smelled good.

you hated all the long hot showers he took but they did have a result.

your dislike for him lessened one night when you came home from a night out.

drunk. hysterical. inconsolable.

you had seen your ex making out with your ex best friend at the bar.

none of your friends made the situation any better.

but somehow shigaraki did?

he was so nice to you. so gentle about it.

“they’ve showed you who they are. you’re probably better than them anyway. you should just go to bed then you won’t have to think about it anymore because you’ll be asleep”

he walked you to the bathroom seeing as you were so drunk you could barely walk.

he tucked you into bed and then started walking back to his room.

before he closed the door you asked him to stay. you told him you just really didn’t want to be alone right now.

“oh um are you sure?”

you insisted.

he slept on the floor.

but when you woke up he was in your bed spooning you. you instantly fell back asleep in warm bliss.

but when you woke up again he was gone.

you two didn’t talk about this interaction for about a month.

it wasn’t until you two were screaming at eachother about wanting to use the tv that he grabbed your face, looked at you for a few seconds the aggressively made out with you.

the agressive making out, tit squeezing, dick grabbing makeout quickly made it’s way into a bed.

not your bed.

a bed with clean dark blue sheets, an ocean smell, and a dark room with lots of vibey LED lights.

he ripped your clothes off of you while sucking your tits like there was milk coming out of them.

you were grinding aggressively on his hard on when his hand found your throat and applied the perfect amount of pressure.

he looked down at you through his blue hair and whispered

“you drive me fucking insane in every possible way”

he threw one of your legs over his shoulder and inserted himself slowly.

throwing his head back and groaning once all the way in.

“i’m so obsessed with you and i hate it”

he whispered through heavy breaths.

he started slow. going in and out. it barely hurt because of how wet you were between your legs

you could barely function.

maybe it was the lack of airflow or the utter show of what was happening. but you were to stunned to move.

once he had stretched you out just enough he started pounding.

if you could have you would have been moaning.

“can i hit you?”

you nodded slightly against the risk stance of his hand.

mouth open and eyes fuzzy you watched as he took his hand from you throat, drew back, and slapped you.

hard.

after he slapped you he held the bottom of your face, forcing you to look at him.

“make eye contact with me” he was out of breath, smirking and pounding into you.

you obeyed and his free hand started rubbing.

he was searching around for a bit before he found what he was looking for.

you reeled the minute he found it.

“ah ah no no, you’re supposed to be looking at me.”

“pl-ease i-“

he shook you face with the hand that was holding your jaw.

“you know better than this, y/n.”

you squirmed beneath him. over satisfied and growing overstimulated you could tell he was getting close the way his hands were twitching and his pounds inconsistent.

“ you’re so good for me you little slut”

he put his thumb in your mouth.

“can i come inside?”

you had an ied. so you nodded while taking his thumb and his cock.

“ahhh you’re sooooooo good”

he moaned durring the so.

the hand on your clit landed on your boob and he squeezed it as he came.

then he collapsed on top of you.

“i’m still not doing the fucking dishes.”

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Blood-Stained Relationship

Prologue i

Slight Yandere! Blade x Fem! Reader

Disclaimer 1: No incest will be in this story. It may seem that there is, but no, there isn’t. Everything will be explained as the story goes on, but again, there will be no incestual acts in this piece of fiction. The brother is NOT attracted to the reader in a romantic or sexual way.

As a matter of fact, the brother is bitchless lmao –

Warnings: talk of a sister complex, toxic and borderline abusive familial relationship(s), implied toxic marriage, implied borderline abusive parenting, obsessive and overprotective behavior/thoughts, hints of depression scattered about, repressed emotions, one suicidal thought, murder, blood. Please tell me if I missed any warnings so I can add them accordingly.

Disclaimer 2: I do NOT condone any of the harmful behavior or thoughts that take place in this piece of fiction. None of these actions should be romanticized or considered normal, as it is extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors and Blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT

Note: I just kinda gave up in the end, I don’t even know what that last conversation was.

Wordcount: 3144k

===

Your brother loved to spoil you.

Cosmetics, designer brand clothing, the newest high tech, pretty nails that feel a little too heavy at times, and personal stylists that made sure you looked like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine cover. Not to mention the lavish furnishing in the spacious house you share with him. Almost anything and everything you could ever want right at your fingertips.

And you’re extremely grateful for everything he has done and more – after all, where would you be if it were not for his generosity?

A dingy little apartment on Burn Street, working as a barista, a two-room lease that you could barely afford rent for. The shady part of town where shop windows get boarded up every second month because someone decided to rob the place at midnight. Needing to use a sperate and out of the way laundry mat because you couldn’t trust the apartment’s commute one. Going by yourself without a watchful eye making sure that you’re safe.

Which is why when your brother asks for a favor, you return it. Smiling, laughing, wearing a dress he picked out for an event, or making friends from a specific group. He feeds you well, and you cook with the ingredients he provides. Unemployed, sure, but you think you became a good enough homemaker.

It was the least you could do, especially since he doesn’t make you pay rent or bills. He would insist that you just enjoy your time at home, or just going around town, with a watchful eye of course, you need to keep your safety in mind.

Even the pretty apron with lace ruffles adds to the aesthetic, the experience. If someone would give everything to you, then shouldn’t you do the same for them?

And that is the exact reason the kitchen smelt of exotic spices, with your hands kneading the yeast while keeping an eye on the meat simmering in the pan. The stove was one of the newest modes in the past decade but purchased two years ago – when your brother gave you, his hand. There were too many settings for the thing, but you knew enough to use it properly.

Am I using too much, or this fine?

You finish beating the yeast into submission – gently kneading until it is good enough. Egg yolk gets drabbled on, and you open the oven to put it in, the heat a little too close. Even with the oven mitten on, it reaches your skin.

The oven door closes with a ‘beep,’ as you set the timer. The clock on the wall reads 6:00PM. Your brother won’t be home until Ten. Whatever his job was must keep him busy. So busy, that he tells you to wait until around 7 seven o’clock if you plan on cooking, and eight pm for takeout. And like a good little sister, you listen to your dear elder brother. But you decided to start a bit earlier, today.

The meat is still shimmering by the time you check on it. Carrots were in the pan too, but you still cut bell peppers to cook them separately. And then, maybe you’ll scoop them open and fill them with melted cheese – or were you supposed to bake those? No, you don’t.

And then, after that, you’ll mop again, the smell of bleach filling your nostrils until you felt dizzy, and if the bread is still baking, then you’ll watch one of your shows until the oven makes a ‘ding!’ and then you’ll take it out and get the table ready.

You smile at the thought, washing your hands with cherry-scented hand soap, the water cold. It brings comfort. And smells sweet, the smell gently urging you to bring your hands to your face and take a sniff. You resist the urge.

“Mm, I should get started on mopping,” you take a right into one of the corners in the kitchen, the mini ‘storage’ door opening with the twist of a knob and a pull. Grabbing the mop and bucket set – that costed more than it should – you fill the bucket with bleach –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

You fill up the bucket, the liquid swishing within. You add some water, dip the mop in, and then place the head of it in. Then, with one hand, you grab the bucket handle, and the mop handle in the other, making way to the living room. The floor was made of tile, cold to the touch as you step out of your house slippers, bare feet touching the white material.

It’s colder than expected.

With a small sigh, you start to mop –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“House, turn on the TV to channel sixty-five.”

The Tv turns on, the channel immediately showing after a few seconds. The news is on. You don’t pay much attention to the current events, but here and there you’ll listen in about one thing or another.

“Mm, I should do laundry tomorrow. And then I’ll ask Mei to accompany me to the store tomorrow; I need to get groceries. Oh, maybe I’ll look online later today for a new dress –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“…”

A defeated sigh and you drag yourself to the kitchen to retrieve your phone, rather upset, which was uncharacteristic of you. You’d like to put your phone on ‘Do not disturb.’ But the model you use doesn’t have that setting, surprisingly. You should ask your brother for a new one. You told him that you didn’t trust that phone company or that seller.

But he had trusted them more than you. Close friends, perhaps?

“Who is it, who is it…,” it vibrates against the marble counter, the shrill noise making your ears bleed. You should ask Mei if it’s possible to put it on silent. It won’t let you do that either, but your brother knows how to bypass it. He’s smart, like that.

And you think you like that about him. Just how he likes the way you are. Because he loves you, his dear little sister, and because you’re a good little sister, you behave. Like you should, and how you were told – suggested – by Mei when you were first welcomed into your elder brother’s home with open arms.

Because he loves you.

Dearest Brother flashes across the screen, and you wait a few seconds before answering his third call. He doesn’t like how he deals with his employees and co-workers. He’s always gentle when it comes to you.

“Hello?” You put him on the speaker, placing your phone back on the counter. It was time to check the shimmering meat anyway. “Sorry for not answering sooner, I didn’t check the caller ID. I’ll make sure to give you a customized ringtone later.” You chirp while opening the lid of the pan. It was almost done; your hand takes the wooden spoon and stir the meat to make sure it wouldn’t burn.

“It’s fine,” comes his relaxed voice from the other side of the line. “I know you don’t check your phone often to begin with; you would rather watch TV or do chores around the house. We have a maid for a reason, you know,” he jests, a chuckle low in his throat. How classic.

“Hehe, I just like being busy. It’s hard to get out of that mindset.”

“Even after two years.”

“Mm.”

When he laughs, it sets off bells in your head. Loud and shrill. “I just wanted to check up on you. You didn’t answer my text an hour ago, so I got worried.”

He could have checked the cameras. The house is littered with them, but to his credit, he is removing most of them. Little by little. However, he’s considerate enough to leave them out of the more… private rooms.

That was a line that should never be crossed.

But, of course, you still gave Mei permission to report to – to tell him what you do with your day. To look around in your room, and it was okay. Because it was Mei. And Mei cares about your safety, even if she reminded you of your roommate in terms of emotional distance.

It was fine, it needed to be. Because you were still an intruder who was as lost as a lamb. Even with guidance, you still had a hard time adjusting. And thankfully, both were so patient it made your heart swell.

You just wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did. Hearts weren’t supposed to do that with good news. With good and sweet actions.

“I’m just happy that you’re safe. You know how much I care about you.” There’s shuffling in the background and whimpers. You can imagine that he’s with a woman, a lover perhaps. Because why else would you hear those types of sounds? It is odd, however, how… masculine they sound. And how far they are, with a crunching sound.

You can hear something break in the background. Sharp yet dulled – it wasn’t glass or porcelain. Your smile is shaky as you imagine what type of stuff he might be into. It’s only natural to be curious, but you push the thoughts away anyway.

“I know.”

And truly, you do. Why else would he take great care to keep track of your location. The people you meet, the men he chooses – it’s all for your sake. And you make yourself believe as much.

The air smells weird. Burnt and heavy. Also, is it just you or is there light smoke coming from somewhere?

“…When are you going to be home for dinner? There’s bread in the oven. And the meat is almost done.”

You look at the clock on the wall. The time reads 6:54PM. Quickly, you take off the lid of the meat. It’s burnt. Well, at least that explains the smell.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Your brother’s voice is light and airy, already knowing that you did remember what he told you. But he plays along anyway. Because that’s what good brothers do.

And he is a good brother. Who loves you so much… that sometimes, it feels a little suffocating.

How ironic. He’s the one who provides the air you breathe, and yet, he takes it away all the same. But it’s okay. Because he’s your brother, and you love him too. Just not as much. And he’s okay with that.

“I probably forgot. You know how I am, brother.” Now that you think about it, when was the last time you called his name, instead of ‘brother’?

“Haha, you’re right. I said around ten, but…” More noise in the background. This time there’s a gushing sound. Coughing. Wheezing. He’s into some weird stuff, isn’t he?

You hear a woman’s giggle in the background. But it doesn’t sound playful or innocent.

Your manicured nails rapidly tap against the counter. A little too loud it could probably be heard on the phone. He doesn’t comment on it regardless.

“Later than ten? Oh my, you sure do sound busy today. Be careful, alright?” Your concern is genuine, but these days, it’s starting to come from a different place. You wonder if this is what your parents went through when they were younger.

If that’s why your mother would call you so often the moment you hit fifteen. Worried about your safety, paranoia creeping up her neck like a snake. If you recall correctly, father did this with mother too. So, it’s natural for people to be worried.

It must be.

“I do, however, have a request of you.” His tone turns serious, and you already know what it is. It’s always the same thing every time. Sure, he loves buying you pretty dresses and nice nails, a personal stylist who listens to your every whim. Usually.

Because there’s another reason, he loves buying you expensive, yet simple jewelry, and clothes that complement your skin-tone and curves. It was usually Mei who chose the clothing, though. Because your brother still does care about your privacy, because he’s –

“Good brother, I was hoping you would set up another playdate. Same person, or is it a different one?”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice. You’re a good sister, so you play along with your brother’s schemes. Although, these days, it’s getting a bit… annoying. Every man is the same, and if they aren’t, then they’re shy and can barely meet your eyes. It’s cute.

You tap against the counter faster. Be a good sister because he’s a good brother. He loves you. And you should love him.

But love wasn’t always healthy.

Sometimes love hurts.

“It’s a different guy, but don’t worry – he doesn’t bite. I’ll never allow someone to even do as much as nip at you.” He sounds so confident you almost feel relieved. It’s common. Be a good sister, like how mother would always tell you.

Behave, dear daughter. They love you. We love you.

And you love us, don’t you?

“Of course; I know you’ll always protect me.” Your knees are starting to get weaker. Maybe you ate something bad because now you’re starting to feel sick. Bile is building up. “But if I may make a request…, can it be an hour or less?”

Even though you love your brother, you hate how long these dates can get. And you hate how boring they become after the first five minutes. But recently, they’re dull right off the bat.

“Thank you for everything, (name). I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

Before you could reply, or he could say “I love you,” the line ends suddenly. You had heard more wheezing in the background before he hung up. Along with multiple apologies that came from a man.

 The meat got burnt so badly it turned black.

The bread has another hour or two to go. All is well.

Because if it wasn’t, then one of the knives in the knife holder would find home in your wrist. In your chest. In your neck.

Like a crumbled piece of paper, you fold into yourself as you fall to the floor. That was enough playing for today. Oh. He never even told you what time he would be home.

Distantly, you hear something break before you close your eyes. You’re tired.

You hope your sleep won’t be interrupted.

--

“I love my sister.”

“Mm, I can see that. Although… perhaps, you love her a little too much, to the point it’s off-putting. People may get the wrong idea, you know.”

Your brother turns around to look at the woman speaking – beautiful, with dreamy pale purple eyes that are jaded. Almost lifeless, yet full of mischief. Like a snake waiting to pounce, she watches him, her purple hair swaying with each step she takes towards him.

One hunter against another. In the end, who will go down?

She must step over the corpse laying on the floor, blood clinging to her heel. It’s nothing more than an inconvenience to her. As though she simply stepped in a water puddle.

“I don’t have a sister complex.”

“Your actions say otherwise. But” she stops right in front of him, gloved hand pulling down her sunglasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose. They gleam underneath the light, your brother’s reflection in them. He sees how thin of a line his lips are.

He’s not amused.

“It is because of your behavior that others stay away from her. That’s what you want, right?”

“No comment. But just know that I don’t have a sister complex. It’s closely associated with incest, and I don’t – “

“Alright, alright. We’ll just ignore that for now – “

“What do you mean ‘for now’?”

“– and get to business. So, you want to hire us, correct? For a baby-sitting job?” Her head tilts to the side, a lazy and smug grin pulling at her red lips. Despite her words, everything about her screams gentle. But the neon purple strings in her hand that are connected to the corpse say otherwise.

It’s – She – is as beautiful as she is dangerous.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘baby-sitting’ job, but yes. Besides, I don’t need to hire you to begin with.” Your brother shrugs his shoulders before crossing his arms. “I mean, I am one of your most valued resources.”

“Oh? Are you now?”

“Who do you think provides the funds? But, of course, if money is a thing that would make things easier, than… I wouldn’t mind paying a bit more.”

She smiles at that, releasing the string as it fades into thin air. “Mm, does the gender matter?”

“Yes. Unless, of course, you have a trusted gentleman.” He glances at the clock on the wall; 9:00PM. He wonders if dinner is ready by now, or if you burnt the food again. Maybe he should stop calling after five, else you get distracted. He needs to be a good brother and remember that you tend to get distracted easily.

“Is it 24/7? Or just during certain events?”

“For now, I’m not sure. But for sure, during her blind dates. There’s a lengthy list of them that I’ve been putting off. She’s just been so tired that I decided to give her a break, oh, but – “

“Please don’t go on a rampant. I know enough to judge the situation. But yes, I do know a trusted ‘gentleman’… I just need to clear his head occasionally. But for your sake, I think it’d be best if you introduce them soon.” She adjusts her glasses, fixing them on top of her head again.

“I can promise you he won’t show any interest.”

“But there’s a possibility he might harm her?”

Gently, her hands clap together. “There will always be a possibility that someone you hired might hurt her. That’s just something you can’t avoid. But if we avoid certain triggers, he’ll be as harmless as a fly… towards her.”

Humming in thought, your brother mulls over it. He did ask, so…

“But do not worry, for I will also be there, at times. But Elio has been sending me more scripts these past few months compared to him.”

“Him?”

“Bladie.”

He chokes on his spit. “You want me to entrust my dear sister to – “

“Trust me, he won’t lay a hand on her. Not if I tell him not to.”

“You mean force him to, you little she-devil…” he chuckles lowly, no true amusement in his voice or eyes. Again, he did ask, but still…

“What about Silver Wolf?”

“She’s more interested in her games than a baby-sitting job. And Sam… at least Bladie looks human. And rather handsome, too. But from what you’ve told me about your sister, he’s not her type. And she’s not his either; too young.”

“… I’ll entrust her to you, Kafka.”

[solomontoaster]

10 Lines Tag Game

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

Thanks to @pianodoesterror. This made me realize how little fic I've written recently lmao.

when you smile i am undone (The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, <1k, part 1 of series)

Jaskier held his 9-month-old daughter out in front of him. “You are my greatest and strangest achievement, little Lubka.”

Luba giggled and stuck her hand in her mouth. “Ag’n,” she mumbled around her hand.

Jaskier raised and eyebrow, preparing his ‘silly scolding’ voice. “Is being thrown in the air ten times not enough for you?"

in front of a closed door (we aren't disturbing anything are we) (The Terror, Tozer & Blanky, <1k)

In retrospect, it was perhaps not a good idea to have started this conversation in front of Crozier’s office when he was in a meeting with Mx. Fitzjames, but in Solomon’s defense, he hadn’t expected the question, “Do you have any recommendations for interesting challah recipes?” to lead to an argument. 

smoke and ash (The Terror, Des Voeux & Jopson, <1k)

The smoke was thick in the air making his lungs ache and Fred found he could hardly breath without a coughing fit coming on, but there were still men in the tent. He gasped, trying to catch his breath as men brushed past him, and there was a spark of panic in his chest when he found he couldn’t. Then he was being grabbed by the back of his costume and dragged away. He tried to fight it, to stay and keep helping men, but it was hard to resist when breathing was a struggle. 

dignity in letters (The Terror, Fitzjames & Anne Ross, 2k, part 3 of series)

Anne Ross fought the urge to pull out the letter from Captain Fitzjames that she currently had tucked in her bodice as she stared out the vestibule window. It was the last letter she had received from Fitzjames before he and Francis had left to come visit herself and James. She’d read it over enough times that rereading it now would be pointless, but she was also presently agonizing over the fact that she should have replied sooner.  Much sooner. There had been plenty of time for it, only… she hadn’t been sure how to answer the question Fitzjames had posed within. 

gin and lime (The Terror, Fitzjames/Irving, <1k, part 2 of series)

John leaned against the doorway of their small kitchen, groggy from having just woken. He watched as James fussed about on the messy countertop, in the process of making something that seemed to involve an awful lot of limes. “What are you up to now?”

“Making a cordial,” was James’ reply, which explained nothing.

“Why?”

salt meat (The Terror, Fitzjames/Tozer, <1k, part 5 of a series)

“None of the salt meat on Terror and Erebus was kosher.”

Solomon looked up from the small figure he was carving. “This is just occurring to you?” 

i have been instructed to burn their letters (The Terror, Louisa Fitzjames (OC) & Fitzjames/Crozier, 1k, part 6 in series)

Recently Donated Collection of Family Papers Reveals New Information on the Lives of Famed Polar Explorers James Fitzjames and Francis Crozier

October 25, 2022 By Ginger Peterson, MA

“I have been instructed to burn their letters, but I’m afraid I cannot bear to do so,”  - Louisa Fitzjames to Elizabeth Dawson nee Doyle

Quiet and Cold (The Terror/Historical RPF/The Quiet Year, Gen, 6k)

Week one: A young boy starts digging in the ground, and discovers something unexpected. What is it?

While searching their campsite Robert Golding uncovers an old food cache. 

The James Fitzjames also sends out a hunting party to take advantage of the game in the area, the party expects to be gone for two weeks.

where past and future meet (The Terror/The Musketeers/Spotless, Grimaud/Jopson & Jopson & Silna, 7k)

Fall 2015, Buckinghamshire, England  Thomas stood in front of his desk in what had once been Sir James Clark Ross’ study. Well, Ross had rented the place, not owned it, but the Abbey at Aston Abbotts would always be Captain Ross’ home to Thomas, regardless of the fact that he—with Lucien’s help—had purchased it outright in a fit of nostalgia almost a decade ago. 

the more i love, the more i drown (The Terror, Fitzjames/Ross, 18k, ongoing)

Fitzjames was on watch atop a low ridge just north of their camp when he saw them; a group of people, trekking with a sledge in their direction. However, even with a spyglass, he was unable to make out the figures properly. His left eye was all but useless, and while his right was better, it still wasn’t much help trying to distinguish details at a distance. He thought the approaching group looked like Navy men, but he couldn’t quite tell and, in truth, rescue seemed almost too hopeful now.

And I will tag.... @whalersandsailors, @handfuloftime and anyone else who wants to do this.

[fwkei]

Remember...?

Draken x fem!reader (mainly fluff slight angst)

Finally got my first request yall 🥳 I couldn’t strictly follow the request like i wanted to but i hope thats alright, the gist is still there. anyways thank you sm for it and i hope you enjoy 

TW/CW: Mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex work

WC: 7k (omg the most ive ever written🙆🏻‍♀️)

Note: I changed my writing style a bit for this request so i hope yall don’t mind! and again i dont read my stuff over so my apologies if theres any mistakes lmao

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

You sat on the street, overheating as you watched the ‘heat waves’ coming off the ground. You held your hair up with one of your hands since you had nothing to tie it with, while the other held a lukewarm water bottle. You sighed, you felt so anxious and frustrated.

What now?  

You thought letting your mouth part due to your heavy breathing 

You took things too fast. It had been about 3 weeks since you left your parents ‘home’ and why did you leave? Well there were a number of reasons that are a bit too much to list, but all that matters now is that you’re completely and utterly on your own. 

You only managed to scavenge small jobs here and there to get some money to buy some basic necessities but nothing more. 

“Sorry Y/n, my niece is coming down to Tokyo and I told her she could have a job here and stay at the studio above...I’m gonna have to let go. I’m sorry.” said your boss to you only a couple hours ago, with pity filled eyes 

“...No it’s fine really! I understand.Thank you for taking me in while you could.” you said bowing your head at the man, biting your inner cheek trying to keep a level head 

“I’m happy you understand. You can leave your apron and hat on the cashier. On your way out.” he said patting your shoulder as you slowly brought your head up 

“Right..” you said taking off your apron and hat as you walked slowly to the cashier, placing it down 

You brought your hands to your temples out of stress, trying to figure out what you could do now. You only had very little money, and there was a heat wave striking Japan this week. At least your boss allowed you to live and pay rent in the small studio right above his store, which had an AC, but now that was for his niece.  

This had been the first time in a while where you had no idea what to do. You had always been the type of person to be able to take care of yourself and your problems..on your own. All your life since you can remember, you always had to be the one to take care of others, not that you mind or minded...but you were only so young. You never really had a childhood, at least not that you can remember. You do remember cleaning up after your parents who lost all will just to even... parent. You remember taking jobs as a babysitter at a really young age in your apartment complex to make some money.. You remember being the reliable older kid of your school and complex, where kids would come to you asking for help with things like homework all the way to buying something for them to eat because they were hungry. Not once did you ever say no, because you really did want to be there for those kids who’s parents didn’t give them the care they needed. But it just became too much.. You ended up spending all of your saved up money on them, just so they could have something to play with or something to eat. 

Before you even realized it, you were in your last year of high school, with no money saved over, no scholarships, no one to rely on but yourself. Not even a friend. Was it really the right thing to do? Use all your money that you worked so hard for to help kids he lived next door? Or just plain stupid? You knew you couldn't support them forever...but you tried so hard to. All you wanted was to give them a childhood they never had, and someone to look up too. But now you left them. All because you were frustrated. You felt so unbearably guilty. All the work you put into your studies to get at least some type of scholarship just went to waste because you couldn't handle your life anymore. You were being so so so stupid. 

Before you even knew it, the sun was going down, and you grew even more tired and sleepy. You signed, taking a jacket out of your bag and placing it on the ground so you could rest your head on it. You brought your hands to cushion your cheek as your eyes started to close. The air finally got a little cooler making it easier to breathe and well...do anything. 

As you were falling asleep you could hear chatter and laughing, and finally a tap on your shoulder waking you up. You cringed your eyes before opening them up more to see 2 women. One had blonde hair and the other had pinkish hair. They looked older than you, maybe in their 20’s. One held a bag and the other held a bottle of wine with two glasses, they bent down so their heads could be closer to yours. After examining you for a bit they turned to each other and smiled happily before turning back their gaze to your confused face. 

“Hey?” you said sitting up more, a little startled by the intimate contact they were giving you 

“Hey there, say...what’s a pretty girl like you sleeping on the street for?” asked the girl with pinkish hair that was tied into pigtails 

“I uh..don’t have a place right now so..” you said scratching your head 

“Really? Hmmm.” said he one with blonde hair 

“How old are you? And what’s your name? I think we can help you out! Woman to woman!” said the pink haired girl smiling sweetly making you feel fuzzy at their niceness 

“18, and it’s Y/n.” you said smiling nervously 

“Nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Remi, this is Rema, my twin sister.” said the pink haired girl pointing to the blonde as she waved sweetly 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too..!” you said bringing your hands to your thighs smiling 

“So did you just turn 18?” asked Rema 

“Sorta, 2 months ago, why?” you asked 

“Oh good!” they both said 

“Well, it’s your choice really. One of the girls left today, and the boss sent us to scout another girl to take her place, buttt we just went to buy food with no intentions of finding someone but luckily we just found you! It’s perfect!” said Remi 

“Oh? What work?” you asked getting excited 

“Oh silly, we live in a brothel! It’s really not all that bad you know, great pay and rooms...so what do you think?” asked Rema 

“A brothel..” you said under your breath 

Your mind was in a serious state of concentration. 

It can’t be all that bad, right? You just have to please people and go on with your day so… that’s what i've been doing my whole life… plus… there's a bunch of women in those things right? I probably won't get too much attention from customers if there's sweethearts like Remi and Rema walking around...so...just for the time being… I think it could really work out in my favor. 

You thought to yourself 

You brought your head up, giving the girls a closed eyes smile before shaking your head ‘yes’ making them jump in excitement. 

“Oh good!” yelled Remi grabbing your hands 

“I’m so excited! We haven't had a new girl in years! How do you think Ken will react?” asked Rema smiling as you 3 all started to walk 

“Ken?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows at the familiar name 

“Oh right, We’ll have to introduce you to him and everyone else tomorrow. He’s the bosses foster kid..I think you two are actually the same age.” said Rema bringing her pointer finger to her chin 

“Mhm mhm! Oh and since you're new, tomorrow I will take your pictures for the board, you can borrow one of my sets till you can afford to buy one for yourself, how does that sound Y/n?” asked Remi smiling and holding your hand 

“It sounds..great! Thank you so much.” you said bowing your head slightly 

“No worries! Hopefully the boss will take you in.” said Remi patting your head 

“Yeah..” you said as you 3 continued to walk to the brothel 

You couldn't seem to get your mind off of that familiar name..Ken? You swore you knew someone named that. It definitely wasn't a popular name so it’s not like you knew it from some type of T.V program.. After thinking hard your whole way to your new home you couldn't seem to remember them. The person named Ken. And so you decided to brush it off for the time being. 

The brothel was pretty big, and consisted of 12 girls, not including yourself. It was really late so everyone was asleep. Remi and Rema showed you to your room which was much more spacious than your room at home. They told you that you were allowed to decorate it and style it however you wanted. But they told you it was important to know that this was the room where business would be done, and not to leave important things around since some of the men came into brothels for the sole purpose of stealing. Remi even told you a story about how one of her clients tried to steal one of her panites, but then the boy named Ken stopped him by knocking him out with one punch to the stomach.   

“He sounds strong-” you laughed as they gave you a small tour 

“He sure is! Like the bodyguard of this place! He’s a sweetheart!” said Remi smiling 

“I’m sure..!” you smiled 

“Alright that’s about it, you should shower now and get ready for tomorrow. The boss will probably wanna take a look at you before seeing if he wants you. But I'm sure he will! You're pretty so it’ll go smoothly!” said Remi handing you her shower stuff for you to use for tonight and a set 

“Got it, and again...thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” you said again 

“Of course! Remember..we’re neighbors so feel free to knock whenever you need something..Also I can give you some tips before your first client so you know what to do.” she said smiling 

“Right, goodnight then!..” you said feeling your face get hot at how she so easily talked about sex. 

After that, you did exactly as she said, you showered. You thoroughly washed your body, face, and hair. Getting out you looked down at the set Remi gave you. It was just a black bra and matching panties with a silk cover up which made you feel better knowing you could cover up with that.  

You rubbed your mouth as you started to rethink your decision. I mean...you respected sex workers..but was this life what you were willing to settle for? Aimlessly waiting around for some random horny man to choose you and do things with you just for you to get only 40% of the payment? Was this all really worth it? Leaving home to avoid your problems...to end up here? You were grateful, yes, Remi and Rema were so sweet and open with you. You could only hope that the others were just as nice. You really wanted things to go well, and that can only start with some good rest. 

You woke up to a knock on your door, to see Remi and Rema walking in with a smile 

“Morninggg!” they sang as you quickly got out of bed 

“Hi!” you said frantically 

“No need to rush! Usually men start coming in at 10, but since you don't work here officially yet you got to sleep in a bit! But the boss called for you, you should go to the set up room down the hall to get ready, remember it?” asked Rema 

“Yeah I do. Thank you for waking me-!” you said smiling and grabbing your stuff and shoes 

“Course, good luck Y/n!” they said as you quickly walked out of your room to get ready 

As you walked in, there were a few other girls getting ready. You smiled and introduced yourself to them, and them to you. They were all so nice and pretty. It made you feel a little bit better about being here, and less nervous since they complimented your looks. You got ready in about 10 minutes, letting one of the other girls help you out with your hair and stuff like that. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror before stepping out and waving to the girls ‘bye.’ 

You nervously walked to the boss's door. You took a deep breath before knocking. You heard a muffled ‘come in!’ so you walked in smiling while holding your covering close. You gave a nervous closed eyes smile before seeing his office was simple, just a desk with a bunch of papers and a chair on the other side. 

“Y/n, correct?” he asked placing down his paper and taking off his glasses to look at you

“Yes.” you said smiling 

“Pleasure-” he said leaning over the desk to shake your hand 

“Likewise.” you said smiling, shaking his hand firmly before sitting down

“Well, I’m sure Remi and Rema told you just about everything you need to know, I take 60% of your earrings, I use that stuff to pay for rent and bills for you girls and my kid… which usually takes up about 30% of that 60%, meaning you make a profit of 40, while I make only a profit of 30 per girl.” he said 

“Yeah, I was told.” you said smiling nervously fiddling with your hands

“Good good, now that that's over with..” he said getting up ad signing 

“I’m just gonna take a look at you, no need to be nervous I’m not gonna touch you or anything, so please don’t feel worried.” he said smiling 

“Right!” you said getting up 

“Alright just do a quick 360 with arms up.” he said smiling 

“Okay.” you said doing as he said 

He looked you up and down but not in a lustful way at all, it was more of like a ‘just seeing how you’ll hold up’ kinda look, almost like he was a bit worried for you. 

“Thank you-” he said sitting back down as you did the same feeling nervous

“I was also told you’re 18? Right?” he asked looking down at his papers 

“Yeah that's right.” you said 

“Well I don't usually have this talk with the other woman because they're older. I know the age of consent in Japan is 16 and blah blah, but you’re still pretty young, are you sure you wanna work like this?” he asked looked into your eyes 

“...Not entirely but it’s the best I can do right now.” you said with a determined face

“I see- we’ll then welcome, and just remember you can leave whenever you want, but give a 2 weeks notice. When Remi is done, ask her to take your picture.” he said 

“Understood, thank you!” you said said smiling and leaving   

You walked out of the room, closing the door carefully signing in relieve 

That went pretty well.

You thought 

You started to walk down the hall so that you could ask Remi to take your picture. But when you put your ear to the door, you heard lewd noises letting you know she wasn’t done just yet. It was already 5, and the brothel closes at 10. You didn’t really know what to do, so you walked over to the kitchen, sitting down at one of the stools waiting for Remi and or Rema to finish up with their work. You tapped the pen that was on the table and started to look around the kitchen. You remembered Remi told you there were snacks in the cabinets, so you got up and started to open and close them one by one to find something to eat. You finally found a cabinet filled instant ramen, you grabbed one and started to pour water into it, popping it into the microwave that was on the counter top. You stood in front of it waiting, playing with the loose strings of you covering when suddenly you heard the door open. 

“I’m home.” said the tall boy with dark hair tied back to reveal a dragon tattoo on the side of his head 

Is this Ken? 

You thought as the microwave beeped, making his eyes turn to you

You quickly shot your eyes to the microwave, hoping he didn’t notice your stare. He looked so familiar it was almost irritating how you couldn’t remember him. You took the hot cup out of the microwave, placing it down on the counter top, ignoring his presence as he walked over, placing down the plastic bag in his hand, noticing your frustrated face trying to figure out where the utensils are. 

“Left of the sink are where they are.” he said sitting down on the stool across from you after looking at your face a bit 

“Thank you.” you said smiling nervously turning around to grab a pair of chopsticks 

“Are you new here?” he asked taking out a styrofoam box from the plastic bag, opening it to reveal a hot meal of meat and rice and vegetables 

“Yeah..I was supposed to start today but I don’t have my pictures taken yet.” you said smiling turning back to mix your noodles 

“Could you grab me a pair too?” he asked realizing he forgot to take a pair of chopsticks from the restaurant 

“Sure-” you said turning back quickly to grab some for him, placing it in his hands as he gave you a soft smile making your eyes widen slightly. 

“You look familiar..” you both said at the same time making both your eyebrows raise in shock then turn into a slight scoff from the both of you 

“Glad we’re on the same page then.” he said taking a bite of his food as you did the same still standing 

“You know you can sit down, don’t feel nervous.” he said looking up you slightly 

“..yeah.” you said smiling, walking around and sitting next to him. 

“So when’d you come?” he asked turning his head slightly to see your mouth filled with noodles making him smile a bit 

“..I came by last night, really late with Remi and Rema.” you said after finishing your bite

“I see...I feel like I remember you from somewhere, can’t pinpoint it though.” he said looking back down at his food 

“Same here, and you must be Ken though, right? When I first heard your name I swore the same thing but I just can’t remember..” you said before sipping some of the broth of your soup

“Yeah, but you can call me Draken and your name?” he asked getting up to grab a napkin from across the table 

“Draken...sure! Oh right, my bad. It’s Y/n. Nice to meet you-” you said smiling holding your hand out for him to shake

He only completely shot up to look into your eyes with his wide ones. You gave him a confused look as you watched him get knocked out of his thoughts, bring his hand up to shake your hand before clearing his throat and walking back over to sit. Maybe you struck a nerve? Maybe had the same name as someone who hurt him in the past? You really didn’t know but it made you feel interested. He looked like he just had his life flash before his eyes or something. 

“Are you okay?” you asked 

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. My head just hurts a bit.” he said looking as if he was deep in thought 

“Oh? I have some tylenol in my room.. You want one? Or I can make you a cold drink, you’re probably dehydrated?” you asked smiling a bit 

Draken turned his head to look at you, his mouth was parted, and he just looked so..anxious? You couldn’t even tell, almost like congested because he wanted to say something. 

Draken felt his heartbeat quicken when he heard your name. As soon as you said it, a random memory that was buried deep in the back of his mind hit him as he quickly re-lived it. But could it really be you? The Y/n he knew from so so so long ago? Around 10 years ago? There could be no way, he remembers the girl moving to a different city..the chances were so low that it could really be you already. 

But the second you said those words.. Those words of offering to make something for him, or give him something, despite you thinking you only just met him...Made him know that it was really the Y/n he met when he was only a little boy...but how the hell did you turn up here? In a place and part of town like this? He was so confused and just wanted to ask you...but you still didn’t remember him. 

“..No I’m alright, thanks..can I ask you somethin-” said Draken before being interrupted 

“Y/n!! Come on, let's take your pictures!” yelled Remi coming out of her room waving as a man walked out too buttoning his shirt 

“Sorry, just remember what you wanted to say and tell me later.” you said smiling and standing up and walking over to Remi

Draken watched you as you walked away. He saw Remi give you a hug, and the man that was walking out checked you out to which Draken gave him a pissed off look. Making the man smile nervously, wave, and leave. 

Do you really wanna live your life like this, Y/n?

He thought to himself before packing up his trash and throwing it away

Remi took your pictures, telling you to do different poses etc, and you finally settled on one. You walked over to the front of the house to place your picture in its designated area above your name. You signed, stepping back to look at it, fixing your gaze to see Draken was walking over with his hands in his pocket, looking as he was going to leave. You saw him glance at the photo making you feel slightly embarrassed.

“Nice.” he said smiling but looking into your eyes in a way where it looked like he was concerned for you. 

Just as you were about to thank him a man walked in and started looking at you making you feel nervous. The man requested you, and so you smiled at him pointing your hand to where the showers were, as you started to walk behind him, you turned your hand giving a thumbs up to Draken with a nervously flushed face, smiling, as he he brought his hand up giving you a thumbs up with soft and concerning eyes before opening the door and leaving. It made your smile fade slightly, you’ve seen that face before from him. But not from today.. And it was all you could think about during your work. 

As you laid in your room, after work you couldn’t help but feel a little bit...stupid? You felt so unsatisfied, not because of your customers but because you just couldn’t remember. It felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch hard enough, and with every interaction you had with the boy almost felt like a tease, like the itch just became more itchy and your scratches just became more weak. Maybe if you spend more time with him, you’ll remember? 

It had been about 4 weeks, 4 weeks of saving your money, and every 4 weeks the boss collected his fair share of the cut. It wasn’t a pretty 4 weeks, it was probably the worst 4 weeks of your life. But... you and Draken would often exchange stories about your lives late at night which you enjoyed a lot. It always makes you feel better. But yet again you still couldn't figure him out. You felt as though you’ve met him before, and as though you two have had these kinds of talks before. 

Draken only grew more and more helpless, seeing how you still haven’t remembered. He was slowly watching your life crumble. He felt so angry that you settled and believed you deserved to live like this, barely scraping by. He felt so awful, and saw how you grew so tired of it all. He just so badly wanted you to remember him, so that he could once again talk to you like he did before.

You had one last customer before closing, going through your usual routine, this n that, the man offered you a drink. You stupid obliged drinking it, hoping it would make your time more enjoyable but you were wrong, so very wrong, and so very stupid for drinking that stupid drink. You remember some parts, you did your job, then it all went black.. You woke up after hearing knocking on your door. You jumped out of bed, confused. You remember seeing the man leave as you started to fall asleep but that's about it. Usually you never fall asleep after the work because you never do much, your mind started to panic. But the door opened revealing Remi smiling.

“Hey sleepy! Boss says it’s your turn, come on, get your cash!” she said smiling 

“Right let me just..it’s in my drawer..I don't know why I fell asleep so fast I think alcohol makes me sleepy.” you said getting out of bed and kneeling in front of your drawer to get the envelope of cash you had been saving.

“Heh, same here. I never accepted drinks from clients..they never had good intentions with that!” she said coming over and sitting at your bed 

“..yeah.” you said starting to feel that panic arise in your body when seeing the envelope was...gone.

“What's wrong?” asked Remi noticing you were frozen 

“I- the money..It’s gone..he took it..” you said with wide eyes feeling as though you were about to sob realizing you had just lost thousands of yen.

“Don’t say that..it..it probably just got misplaced! Come on, I'll help you look!” said Remi getting up  

You couldn't even respond because of the amount of panic you were in. Your heart was racing and you felt tears fall from your eyes. After about 15 minutes of looking, you two found nothing. Absolutely nothing. You sat on the floor with your hand over your mouth, again, trying to keep a level head. 

What now..?

You thought to yourself feeling hot tears stream from your face.

“Hey..guys? Boss is calling for you Y/n..what’s going on?” asked Rema walking in seeing you covering your face, crying 

“She was robbed by the guy who just left, he put something in her drink to knock her out while he looked around and took the money...she doesn’t have the money.” said Remi 

Rema’s mouth parted in shock and pity. 

How could you mess up something so easy? All you had to do was keep your money safe. But you even failed at that. 

“You have to tell him, Y/n.” said Rema rubbing your back

“Yea..yeah, could you two just give me a second? I’ll be right out.” you said smiling while wiping your face 

“Sure.” they said frowning and walking out 

You fisted your hands, and grabbed your covers before screaming into them to muffle your sounds..

Okay..it was a couple of thousand yen...not too bad right? I can promise the money by tomorrow..I’ll pick up some sort of street job...yeah! That’s good. Everything is fine..it’s fine.

You thought to yourself before wiping your face on more time and slapping both sides of your cheeks to wake you up.

You got up and walked to the bosses door feeling the eyes of people on your back. You knocked on the door before opening it slowly, refusing to make eye contact as you went to stand in front of the man with your arms behind your back.

“Alrighttt, let’s see here, in the last four weeks you had a total of 37 customers, so you should have around 300,000 yen, correct?” he asked looking at his paper 

“Yes.” you said still looking down

“Alright, just hand it to me so I can count and divide it, you can sit.” he said smiling holding his hand out 

“I..I don-” you said before being interrupted by a knock 

“Come in.” he said 

“Hey sorry dad, Y/n left her money with me while she went out. Thought I should bring it to her. Remember, Y/n?” said Draken walking in with an envelop in his hand smiling as he came to stand next to you, as you nodded your head ‘yes’ 

“Oh, thank you Ken.” he said smiling and taking the envelop 

Your mouth parted as you gave a confused look, Draken only smiled and gave you a thumbs up while his dad counted the money. You felt so guilty and shocked, and all you could do was just stand there, like an idiot. 

“Here you are...120,000 back..” he said, patting the money on the table to make it flat, putting it back into the envelope and handing it to you

You hesitantly brought your hand to grab it, glancing over at Draken who gave you small smile

“Thank you-” you said to him seeing Draken was already opening the door to leave 

You quickly followed after him as he walked into his room. Before entering his room he turned around and looked down at you 

You felt your eyes soften as you felt as though you were about to cry again, you tilted your head and neck down biting the inside of your cheek to keep in your cry. 

“I promise I’ll pay all of it back by tomorrow, all 300,000.” you said 

“Do you ever give yourself a break?” he asked as you brought your head up to look at him seeing he looked almost irritated 

“You didn’t even ask why I did it, you just immediately jumped to feeling guilty. And you don’t need to pay me back. Really.” he said bringing his hand to close to the door, but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist making his breath hitch 

“Why?” you asked looking into his eyes 

“You still don’t remember? Even after all this time we’ve spent together?” he asked smiling as you took your hand off his wrist 

“Remember...?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, but then it suddenly hit you

“I swear it wasn’t me! I didn't steal!” yelled a little boy with blonde hair as two cops stood in front of him 

You tilted your head and walked closer, but still keeping your distance to hear. It was a winter day and you were on your way to the corner store to buy some snacks, but you were met with an interesting scene. You kept your hands in your pockets as you listened over to the boy screaming and pleading his innocence 

“I wouldn’t steal something so stupid! What would a kid like me need a lighter for!! I don’t know how it ended up in my pocket! Lay off!” he yelled as the officer dangled the lighter in front of his face

A lighter?

“Keep it down! We know how troubled you kids are here! Especially with those tattoos!” yelled back the cop as the boy grew angry and fisted his hands, ready to punch the cop

“Hey!!!” he heard a voice yelled 

“Hey wait a minute!” you yelled waving your hand smiling as you ran to the scene 

“Can we help you?” asked one of the cops in a soft tone 

The blonde boy grew quiet, and you saw his hands loosen as he looked at your smiling face 

“Yeah, why are you two yelling at my brother?” you asked furrowing your brows at the two grown man 

“...Your so-called brother stole a lighter from the corner store right behind you, where are your parents? We would like to have a word with them.” he said standing up straight 

“Yeah, and talk about how they let their son tattoo himself already..” said one under his breath making the other laugh 

You looked over at the boy growing angry, you gave him a smile..making him calm down.

“He said it was just an accident, I asked him to pick up a lighter from the store so that we could light a candle at our father’s grave! See!” you said digging into your bag to pull out a candle 

“He probably felt pressured because I asked him to get it, so if you’re gonna get mad at someone, get mad at me!” you said as you started to fake cry 

“It’s our father's death anniversary, and you're yelling at kids for making a mistake.” you faked cried

“Yeah!!” yelled the boy making you smile under your hands as the two officers became anxious, feeling bad for what they had just done.

“..we’re sorry. Please let us apologize.” they said slightly bowing at you two 

“I don’t think we can accept it...you two also made fun of the dragon tattoo on his head!...dragons were our dads favorite animal. He risked his life fighting for Japan and you two are laughing at him! Is that how your mother taught you how to behave?” you asked pretending to wipe you tears as the blonde boy watched you in awe seeing you toy with grown men 

“Please let us treat you both to whatever you’d like from the corner store as an apology!” they both said bowing lower making you smile and look back at the boy. You gave him a thumbs up as a smile grew on his face 

“Fine..come on then?” you said as both the officers raised their heads, opening the doors of the corner store for you both 

You and the blonde boy walked around the store, filling your baskets with all types of things. The blonde boy watched you in just pure awe as you walked around picking your favorite snacks, as he did the same, glancing at you every now and then. 

“Here.” you said smiling at the cops 

“Right!” they said frantically taking out their wallets as the boy placed down his stuff nervously, still watching you

“Oh and-” you said reaching your hand to grab the lighter from the officer and placing it into the bunch of snacks 

You smiled, your hands were behind your back as you watched the officers pay for yours and the boys' food, placing them into bags for you guys too. You grabbed the lighter and your bag, as the boy did the same 

“Mom told us to meet her at the cemetery steps, remember?” you said looking into the boys eyes

“..yeah, I remember.” he said smiling feeling his face become hot 

“Let’s go then.” you said smiling and taking his hand as you two ran out of the store 

After a bit you two stopped and sat on the curbside while you both chose a snack to eat.  

“Here’s your lighter, you don’t have to stay with me by the way.” you said handing him the steel lighter 

“..Thanks” he said 

“Sure- what do you need it for anyway?” you asked smiling 

“My boss asked for it.” he said putting it in his pocket

“Oh, are you in some type of delinquent group?” you asked looking at him 

“Yeah..” he said smiling 

“That's cool, what do you guys do?” you asked taking a sip of your drink 

“We kinda just...like...do stupid stuff and fight..” he said 

“Sounds fun, but...stupid.” you said laughing making him scoff 

“Why’d you do it?” he asked 

“Do what?” you asked back turning you gaze to him 

“Come in to cover me. You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble because of me.” he said with a frustrated face 

“You’re right, I just wanted to, that's all.” you said smiling making his mouth part and cheeks redden

“You seem pretty fun too so I thought we could be friends or something..” you said nervously 

“Yeah! Sure- We can be friends!” he said happily making you feel flustered 

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, my name is Y/n, yours?” you asked holding over your hand 

“Ken, but you can call me Draken-” he said taking ahold of your hand gently as you gave him a closed eyed smile blushing 

“where the hell did you find that candle and com up with that whole sob story Y/n?”

“Dunno, I saw the candle on the ground by a newspaper, I kinda just winged it- “

After that day you remember hanging out with Draken almost every other day. You remember him telling you how he and his close friends started their own gang and needed some sort of funding, and so you gave it to him, on his birthday.

“I saved up! You said that you and your friends needed some money to start off so that you guys could buy a flag or banner? Right? Well, here’s 30,000 yen for your birthday!” you said handing him an envelope and a small balloon.

“Are-are you serious right now Y/n?” he asked taking the gifts, opening the envelope to look inside to see the money as his eyes lit up 

“Yeah, I babysit more kids now so I was able to put some aside for you.” you said smiling satisfied with his reaction 

He didn’t even say anything, all he did was bring his arms around you upper body, hugging you tight making you laugh as you brought yours to hug him back 

“Thank you- you’re the best! The guys will be so happy!” he said smiling while grasping your wrists in excitement. Your eyes traced over his face as they soften. You smiled. 

“Likewise.” 

And- after that, you remember the day you 2 separated as friends. You both sat on the curbside, you remembered you called him to come and see you. It was a winter night and the sun was going down. 

“I uh..well I don’t really know how to say this without sounding cliche but-”

“What? Are you gonna confess that you’re madly in love with me or something?” he asked grinning, making you sweat drop 

“Jeez be quiet...I’m trying to make this a memorable moment-” you signed smiling, placing your palms on the cold cement 

“Alright let’s hear it then Y/n-!” he said bringing his hands to the back of his head as he laid down looking up at the stars 

You only frowned slightly, you shifted your position so that you could sit beside him and have a good look at his face. 

“You’re scaring me..” he said jokingly making you smile 

“It was really fun the past year.” you said smiling as Draken shot his head up to look at you face to face 

“The hell are you talking like that for?” he asked furrowing his brows 

“My parents can’t afford living in any districts in Tokyo anymore, so we’re moving to another city… about 4 hours train ride from Tokyo so-” you said looking down at your hands on the floor

“So? You act like I won't be able to come and see you or you come and see me..” he said ducking his head a bit so that you could look at him 

“Draken, train tickets are about 220 yen per person, I can't afford it, and if you came by to see me I'd feel guilty because you’d be wasting your money just to only see me for like an hour.” you said 

“How can I be wasting my money on you? It’s not wasting if I wanna do it and see you, plus what makes you think it'll only be a couple hours?” he asked 

“I’ll have to start working once we get there, so I wouldn’t have anytime...I wanna start saving so that one day I can come back to Tokyo and live here, so that I can see your dream come true of helping your friend create a ‘new era of delinquents’ you know? I’ll even help you guys if you want with financial stuff or something.” you said smiling at him 

Draken bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to tell you so bad how he felt but..

“Look, I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna say..just remember what you wanted to say and tell me later, okay?” you said placing your hand on top of his causing his eyes to widen 

“...You’ll remember me, right?” he asked looking into your eyes deeply making your mouth part 

“Yeah, I’ll remember you as long as you remember what you wanted to tell me. Cause I feel the same” you said smiling as a tear fell from your eyes 

“good...I will.” he said smiling back and tilting his head and wiping it off your face

After the memories hit you, you stood there with wide eyes and tears, with your wrist covering your quivering mouth. You had completely suppressed your memories of Draken, and your feelings because you knew you wouldn't be able handle being apart from him for so long. And he did the same. You couldn’t imagine how unbearable it was for him to be waiting up like this. You looked up at him seeing his eyes were softly looking at you. You could do nothing but bring your arms around him hugging him, as he brought his arms around you to do the same. You were still such in shock. 

“I never thought you’d end up in a place like this, living a life like this.” he said against your ear 

“I don’t wanna see you like this, please let me take care of you like you did for me..” he said said tightening his grip slightly  

You could only cry at his words, you didn’t even wanna try to speak because you knew it would only come out as a sob. Was it really alright for you to rely on someone so much?

He pulled back from the hug and looked at your face, seeing you were still crying as you nodded your head ‘yes’, he smiled and wiped them away with his thumb. The smile on his face...he looked so satisfied...and happy...happy that you finally remembered. Finally remembered him.

[nugnthopkns]

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence. 

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something. 

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place. 

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more. 

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy. 

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain. 

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus. 

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over. 

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at. 

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why. 

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck. 

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste. 

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault. 

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize. 

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals. 

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things. 

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting. 

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person. 

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe. 

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better. 

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water. 

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands. 

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats. 

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program. 

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating. 

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack. 

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you. 

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked. 

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything. 

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home. 

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days. 

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice. 

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs. 

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes. 

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly. 

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight. 

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat. 

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment. 

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode. 

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.” 

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself. 

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase. 

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting. 

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble. 

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.” 

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed. 

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to. 

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home. 

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate. 

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year. 

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters. 

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone. 

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask. 

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat. 

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches. 

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors. 

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates. 

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time. 

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score. 

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended. 

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him. 

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah. 

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel. 

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up. 

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom. 

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair. 

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump. 

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip. 

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps. 

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey. 

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you. 

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake. 

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye. 

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel. 

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you. 

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before. 

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice. 

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves. 

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates. 

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet. 

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone. 

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd. 

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals. 

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features. 

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda. 

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point. 

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

 It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase. 

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him. 

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months. 

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received. 

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper. 

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about. 

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list. 

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship. 

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them. 

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights. 

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.  

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop. 

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.” 

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience. 

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around. 

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door. 

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles. 

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years. 

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut. 

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?” 

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall. 

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?” 

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is. 

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete. 

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly. 

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction. 

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well. 

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much. 

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal. 

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror. 

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger. 

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates. 

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch. 

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city. 

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile. 

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift. 

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible. 

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable. 

“Good morning,” he repeats. 

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities. 

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off. 

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals. 

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine. 

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep. 

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front. 

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly. 

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay. 

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse. 

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.” 

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you. 

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself. 

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms. 

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot. 

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down. 

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help. 

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there. 

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater. 

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain. 

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength. 

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again. 

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink. 

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @boqvistsbabe​ @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice​ if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[atlafan]

Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

·        Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

·        At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

·        Cooking

·        Light cleaning

·        Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to jpwatson@gmail.com

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: jpwatson@gmail.com

From: hes2194@gmail.com

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

//

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: hes2194@gmail.com

From: jpwatson@gmail.com

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

//

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.  

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. “What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. “May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”

[brutlist-archive]

life sometimes has seriously really bad timing. i’m putting this under a read more because it gets pretty graphic, but i have to admit that i need help because of the current events that my health has undergone. 

i’ve been doing pretty financially well these past few months, my work has been steady, things have been pretty normal up until recently when my landlord emailed us about a month ago notifying us that we had until september 30th to leave the house bc having people living in it while he was making on and off repairs proved to ironically be just “too inconvenient”. that was all well and fine, i have a room i’m lining up to move into soon and had been pretty confident with it until this past saturday when i woke up at 5A with rapid heart palpitations, the left side of my body going numb, and the left side of my face starting to droop during a visit i was spending with my mother at her apartment. i was rushed to the urgent care center down the way, received two CT scans and a chest x-ray that almost directly afterward once i had been deposited back into my room, i immediately began to hallucinate ( saw dust particles spiraling over my head until it funneled and tried to attack me, the tv monitor turned into water, letters on the posters drifted apart from each other and became weirdly cartoonish idk how to describe it; i couldn’t let my eyes focus anywhere or else i’d hallucinate something else ). a few seconds later while i was awestruck by the last hallucination (more dust particles but they were glittery and came raining down from the ceiling, it was actually very pretty) i blacked out, and woke up again with nurses everywhere, my mom holding me up as i vomited into two bags. i can’t really remember what happened after, i just know the nurses were suddenly gone, and it was just me and my mom in the doctor’s room. she told me i had just gone through a severe seizure that had i guess lasted a while, she couldn’t say. i bit my tongue so hard i nearly took a chunk out of it.  i was taken by ambulance back to the actual hospital for an MRI, that i’m waiting to hear back on now. i had seized so hard i had burst an innumerable amount of capillaries and blood vessels in my eyes to the point where i looked like i had sunburn. it’s been two days and they’re still fading. the hallucinations didn’t stop even after i was taken home but gradually, thankfully, i started to revert back to normal, though left indescribably lethargic and confused. i think it’s safe to say i had a stroke that resulted in a seizure as my brain tried to hard reset itself. i’ve never been so fucking scared for my life. i cried. i thought i was going to die.  my boss is being uncharacteristically benevolent and is allowing me the week to rest and recover. walking is still a little weird. i might end up going to work anyway on wednesday, or at least thursday so i can bring in something. i’m worried, because i have my top surgery next week, which is going to put me back out of work for probably another few days (thankfully two will be on pto but in the entire six months of working at this fucking job, that is literally all i was able to accrue). i still have bills i have to pay, the rent at where i’m still staying, and the rent for the new place on top of a security deposit. i’m in big trouble lol. my mother said i’ll always have a home wherever she is, but i’d rather not if i can avoid it as she’s a better friend than she ever was a parent. 

i am not looking for pity. i just need some help. thankfully the moratorium in my city is still up, so i can skip out on rent for a little and use what money i do pull in for the next few months (while still paying partials to my landlord so i don’t completely screw myself over) to save up for the move. i’m confident i can make it before the deadline, but i really might need some help doing so. it’s out of my hands.  if you need them, if you want them, i still have my discharge papers and can prove that this actually happened. we’re thinking that it might have been my antidepressants, my jaw spasms didn’t start until i started taking it and we didn’t realize until just now lmao; apparently those are some kind of seizure in of them selves that i’ve been unknowingly having for the better part of a year. i dunno officially until i speak with the neurologist. if you’re up to helping, i appreciate you , here is my paypal . if you can’t afford to help but still want to pass this around, i still appreciate you. thank you for reading this far. please be good to yourself. if you think something is wrong with you, don’t wait. 

[echos-newlegs]

I return with part two of this fic. I dunno how good it will be, started it at 11:37pm because I can’t sleep lmao. I found a prompt list tho and I’ll be posting that shortly 😳. Also I am a Tom boy so please excuse this chapter. I dunno words of things or how most girls dress up for dates. I’ve never been on one, and my purse is deep, blue Jean, pockets and a Star Wars wallet ✌️🥸

Warnings: Implied sexual themes, it doesn’t go into depth though. I may write the hanky panky in a separate chapter if y’all want.

Part one - This is part two

You and Echo hung out anytime he made his return to Corusant. It could be days after, or even months. Echo always had this horrid feeling that one mission would go wrong, and he wouldn’t be able to see you again. Or that you would decided seeing a clone wasn’t worth it, and move on. If you would even consider what the two of you had as, ‘seeing one another.’ You on the other hand were just worried for his safety. He didn’t make you feel self conscious or like he would move on and find someone new. He was so loyal, even if what you had wasn’t official.

After nearly six months of knowing one another. Seeing each other a near twelve times, bringing both you and your daughter back a gift after each mission. Or just a fun story about he and his brothers for the two of you. Though, Echo finally asked the last time if he could officially take you on a date. One with just the two of you. He adored your daughter, but having a five year old running around did tend to kill the mood, and you understood. Nearly jumping into his arms with a grin as you kissed his cheek. Blurting ‘yes!’ almost a little, too excitedly.

You were just getting ready to leave your house. Purse hung over your shoulder as your shoes clicked on the tile of your kitchen. You weren’t wearing anything super fancy, you didn’t wanna overwhelm yourself or Echo. It was still casual, but it was nicer than your normal. Exiting the house and locking the door behind you, after making sure the lights were all off for the thousandth time. When Echo came up behind you with a grin. “You ready?” He asked, you jumped a bit and you turned to see him. He wasn’t in his armor for once, nor his blacks. Which he would occasionally lounge around your home in until— who you learnt was his brother Fives— was ready to leave.

You smiled and swatted at his arm. “Warn a girl before sneaking up on her,” you teased. Echo tittering a bit. “Not my fault you’re always so jumpy,” “am not,” “Y/N, I could argue differently. You nearly punched me last time I saw you because your daughter let me in the house.” You scoffed, the two of you beginning your stroll down the street to who knows where. “You deserved it, not like I expected someone in full armor to be standing in my kitchen eating Star cherry dessert!” Echo laughed at that, causing you to laugh with him.

The two of you continued your stroll. You were thankful to have a night to yourself. Plus C/N got a night with friends. “Where are we going, anyways?” You asked, looking to your side to see Echo grinning. “You’ll see.” Was all he said. You weren’t really one for surprises. You were impatient and somewhat stubborn, and he knew this. Causing a sigh to leave your lips as the two of you strolled the dim lit streets.

Echos hand brushed against yours, fingers reaching to catch yours. You accepting his offer. Taking his hand into your own and leaning against his side a bit. You could of swore you heard him release a breath, too. Making you smile a bit more. In all honesty, even if the two of you just walked around the city, you would be the happiest person alive. Internally squealing when his thumb started rubbing over the back of your hand.

You came up to a diner, tilting your head a bit. “Echo, I could have made us something.” You spoke, looking over to him and he shook his head. “No no, this is supposed to be us relaxing and spending time with each other. Not me making you cook.” You were about to argue with him, but the look he gave you made you close your mouth and nod in agreement. “Alright, but I’m paying for myself.” Echo snickered and pulled you inside. “Alright, fine, deal.”

The two of you sat at a booth by the window. Across from one another as music played in the background, faintly. You both gazed over the menu, deciding what looked best. “You ever been here, Echo?” You asked, looking up to catch his gaze. “No, actually, but I’ve wanted to try it, have you?” You nodded, “I work here,” you added with a grin as you watched his smile fade. “Oh, I uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You snickered, shoving him from across the table. “Echo, I’m kidding, I work at a repair shop. I used to work here though, back when I was a teen.” You added and he smiled once more. Stars, how you could watch him smile for hours.

He raised a brow and stared at you, interested. “You repair things, like what?” “Speeders, droids, tech, you name it. It was something I learnt from my dad and brothers, and it pays the rent.” You added and he nodded. “Might have to have you look over my communicator for my helmet some time,” and you hummed in thought. “It’ll cost you,” he raised his brows. Grin only widening. “Oh yeah, and what’s the price?” Though before you could even think of a response the waitress was there with a pen in hand. “What will the lovely couple have to drink.” The comment caught you both off guard, blushing and rambling. “Oh,” “we’re not-“ “he’s just-“ “A friend?” The waitress asked, a hip popped out as she smiled mischievously at the two. “Uh huh, and I work here for fun. What’ll it be for drinks?”

The two of you stared at her and then glanced at each other. You speaking up first, since it was obvious Echo had no idea what he wanted. “A Star Cherry malt, please.” The waitress nodded, and wrote it down. “Just one or two?” “Just one,” Echo interrupted you before you could speak. You glanced over to catch him smile. “Alright, one Star cherry malt on its way.” And off she went.

The moment she returned with the drink Echos eyes lit up with curiosity. “Do you two need a moment before you order?” “Yes please, ma’am,” you spoke, and she nodded. Walking off again. You looked back to Echo and raised a brow. “Have you ever had a malt?” He shook his head, ‘no.’ You would have been surprised, if he hadn’t acted like you made gold each time he ate with you at home. “No, on Kamino, we were...” he trailed off a bit. “Programmed to not intake sweets. It messes with our energy.” He added and you snorted. “It messes with everyone’s energy, hun. Now try some. If you like the cookies I bake, then you should like this flavor.” He didn’t think twice before taking one of the straws and taking a drink.

His eyes were focusing. Eyebrows raised. Pulling back to look at you with a childish grin. “So?” “It’s amazing! Why do I even listen to anyone besides you, I’ve been hidden from everything!” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but giggle. Pointing out some of your favorites on the menu. He stuck to some simple things. The two of you splitting fries and eating burgers. Absolutely enjoying your time together.

Once finished, you paid, like you said you would. He didn’t argue either. The two of you walking home, hand in hand. “When will you be back?” You asked, expecting he would have to leave the moment you got back to yours. “Tomorrow, if you’ll let me? We don’t leave for our next mission until the day after, I technically don’t even have to be back to the bunks tonight. I could crash on your couch if I wanted.” He told you. You looking up to him with a grin. “You know, the heater in my apartment went out, I’m doubtful you’d want to stay on my couch.” You spoke, looking down towards your feet. Him sighing and pulling you closer. Draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well, now I want to more, I thought you fixed things anyways?” He asked and you furrowed your brows with a grin. Pulling your keys out and unlocking your door when the two of you got to your place.

You pushed the door open and pulled him inside. Shutting it behind the two of you. “I do, but no ones asked me to. I don’t just hand out help for free, you know.” You told him. Making it a point to drag your hand up his arm as you walked off down the hall. Flipping on the lights. You knew he was right behind you, too. Following you like a lost dog. “So, did you wanna stay the night?” You asked, looking back to him, and he shrugged. Licking his lips as he looked around and then back to you. “I can, if you’ll let me. I can get out of your hair, if you want me to?” He asked. “Come back tomorrow.” You shook your head with a grin. “No need, we can watch a movie and lay on the couch for a bit, then you can keep me warm tonight.” You added with a wink. Snickering at the taken back expression he gave you. “I’ll return, I’m going to go change, you get comfy, Echo.” You murmured and he nodded. “Sure thing, Cyar’ika.” He added, and pulled his nice clothes off. Blacks resting underneath as they normally were.

When you returned your hair was down, what little makeup you had on was removed, plus you were in your sleep wear. Baggy clothing that made you look smaller in his eyes, but he loved it. He was sitting on the couch already, waiting for you to return. You smiled and grabbed the remote as you sat next to him with a sigh. Looking over at his awkward form. Scrunched together, hands to himself. He didn’t cease to surprise you. How one second he could be touchy, and the next moment too embarrassed to even hold your hand anymore. “You know, you don’t have to keep your hands to yourself.” You added. Looking at the screen. Finding a holovideo for the two of you to watch. Or even just have it as background noise.

Your lips pressed together when he eventually wrapped his arm around you. Pulling you against him as you rested your head against his shoulder. Neither of you were really paying attention to the screen at this point. Too distracted by one another’s presence. Hands eventually finding one another. “What does.. Cyar’ika mean?” You asked. Looking up to him with a curious and innocent gaze. A blush creeping up the back of his neck as he pretended to pay attention to what was happening in the holo. “It uh..” He stammered, you listening intently. “It means, sweetheart. Or Darling.” He admitted. Glancing down to meet your gaze. You were in awe, really. It really did mean the world to you.

Then you got an idea. Eyes darting down to his lips, and then back to his eyes. “I think I know what it’ll cost for me to look at your helmet,” Echo was curious now. Turning a bit to face you with a small smile. “Oh, and what is that?” You sat up a bit more. Leaning a bit closer to his face. “A kiss.” You murmured, lips ghosting against his. His hands moving to hold at your waist and his attention was all yours now. Both of your faces heated red. Hearts pounding in your chest. You squirming a bit under his touch and gaze. “Then what are you waiting for?” He asked, and that was all you need before your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, everything you imagined from the Arc Trooper. Hands reaching up to cup the sides of his face as your lips danced a slow rhythm. Humming a bit into the kiss as he pushed you back and down against the couch. Shifting himself to he was placed in between your legs, hovering above you.

When your lips parted you nearly whined. The two of you panting, eyes half lidded. Eyes roaming each other’s faces. “You ready for bed yet?” You asked with a small smile and a smirk. Echo grinning down at you. Though this grin was a bit wolffish, wild. Full of mischief. “Is that even a question, cyare?” He asked, voice a bit gruff as he leant down and captured your lips again. Before moving off and lifting you from the couch. Carrying you back into your room. Legs and arms wrapping around him as the two of you were a bunch of giggling messes. Kissing here and there as he scurried off with you in your arms. That night you and him both kept warm, almost too warm at some points.

[quietmyfearswith]

girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,830 words

warnings — few swear words, a bit of defending jacobs spoilers, not compliant with book/show ending, fluff?? bit of angst???

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — lmao i lied this comes first then in a few i’ll post the final part of public’s eye. if someone reads this pls tell me what youd be more interested in, august walker or steve rogers social media au

masterlist | series masterlist

After proving Jacob’s innocence Andy imagined things would have been smooth-sailing from there. He was wrong.

Laurie asked for a divorce; citing how their marriage was built on a lie and that it was time to be truthful to themselves and to Jacob. They both also agreed that it wasn’t just working anymore, but on Andy’s part he was more than willing to try harder for it to work, but didn't want to push it. He accepted her wishes and didn’t fight for full custody over Jacob — he was more than content with spending weekends and certain holidays with his son. They both moved out of their Newton house and revealed to Andy how they were both relocating to Bakersfield in California; the lawyer being partially surprised with how far they were moving, but ultimately remembered how she had some family members over there.

Before their departure, Andy and Jacob got to bond one last time and somehow their conversation shifted to how the former had no plans of selling the house and moving somewhere else. “Don’t you think you’d be too lonely?”

The blunt question did get Andy thinking but he shrugged it off, “Maybe? I just don’t see myself living anywhere else, I guess.”

Nodding, the boy looked out the window as the Audi drove by. His eyes scanned a big red sign that read “For Rent” and suddenly gave him the idea as he turned to his father, “Or you could put a room up for rent?”

Hitting the brakes smoothly as there was a red light, he turned to his son and looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, “What?” 

“Green light,” Jacob informed and Andy nodded as he released his foot off the brake and continued the way home, “Advertise my room, or the spare one, for rent. That way, you know, you won’t really be alone.”

Pursing his lips together, Andy thought about it for a while. Would anyone even one to live there? With him? He didn’t want to seem like he was rejecting his son’s idea or make him feel like he was a fool for coming up with that one so he just found himself nodding, “Sounds like a great idea, pal.”

And when they were back at home, Jacob insisted he help his dad place an advertisement online for the availability of the spare bedroom across Jacob’s. Even though he thought it was a foolish idea, Andy just went along with it for two reasons — one, he just wanted to go along with what his son wanted and make him somewhat happy. And the second one being he was absolutely positive no one would want to live here.

It was a deal too good to be true; surely there had to be a catch? $500 a month for a room that was fully furnished? Maybe the house was just ugly? Or perhaps the room wasn’t really how it was pictured? Either way Y/N found herself messaging the house owner, Andy Barber, and let her know she was interested in checking the place out.

Pulling up in front of the house, Y/N let out a long whistle as she marveled at how the exterior of the house was well-groomed and clean. Exiting her car, she made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell and leaned by one of the columns as she took in the quiet ambiance of the neighborhood. Hearing the door creak upon, she turned around and smiled, “Hi! Are you Andy Barber?”

The bearded man was dressed in a simple ragged t-shirt and a pair of sweats; and despite the impression that he had just woken up, she thought that he had this cute boyish charm to him. “Yeah that’s me, you must be Y/N?” He offered his hand out for a shake, one which the girl enthusiastically shook. 

As they both unclasped their hands Y/N wondered, “Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” Her question had him chuckling and she felt her heart warm with how relaxed he looked as he shook his head, “It’s not a bad time, this is just how I normally look.”

He stepped aside so she could come in and take a tour of the house. As Y/N was being shown around the house, she could not prevent her jaw from dropping from how cozy, elegant, and complete everything looked.

“And if you choose to, this is where you’ll be staying,” Andy opened the room to the spare bedroom and led her inside and allowed her to take a look around. It had a bed, a dresser and wardrobe, mirror, a reading chair, and a study desk paired with an office chair.

Turning to the man, “So what’s the catch?” Her question caught him off guard and folded his arms as he tilted his head to the side, “The catch?”

She nodded and looked at him as if she had the telepathic abilities to let him know what she was thinking, “You know, the reason why the rent’s so cheap? Is this house haunted? Do you actually have a rat infestation problem?”

As Andy threw his head back laughing at her suggestions, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this carefree. “No catch,” he explained once he calmed down from laughing and sat down on the reading chair, “Not haunted or rat infestation, really. Just I don’t know,” he struggled to look for the right words as he placed his hands on his thighs and rubbed them, “Put a room up for rent just so I wouldn’t get lonely.”

Y/N leaned by the office desk that was beside the chair Andy was sitting on as she spoke, “Well I liked the place so much; I’m guessing that means you won’t have to be alone?”

Looking up at her Andy smiled, “That’s great then, let me get the spare house key for you.” 

“I hope I don’t seem too fast or what, but I hope you don’t mind if I move my things up already? I have all my belongings in the car.”

Andy nodded, “Oh no worries about it, let me help you get your stuff.”

For the next couple of hours, Y/N settled her things around the room. She placed her clothes on the dresser and wardrobe. Settled her pictures and other stationery items on the desk. Attaching the house keys to the keychain she had which contained her keys and skipped her way down the stairs. 

Seeing how Andy was by his office area she asked, “Oh by the way I forgot to ask, are you allergic to something?”

“Planning to kill me already huh?” He joked as he looked at her pointedly to which she rolled her eyes at, “No, dummy. I was planning on cooking dinner.”

“Nope, not allergic to anything,” he clarified and she smiled and waved goodbye. Looking at her retreating form, Andy shook his head as he took note of how silly his new roommate was. He buried himself with preparing his things for office as Y/N went around to explore her new neighborhood’s grocery store.

Dozing off in the bedroom, Andy woke up once a savory and aromatic smell hit his nostrils. Rubbing off the sleep in his eyes, he sat up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table and took note of how it was already 5:30 in the evening. Slept longer than I thought I would, he thought to himself as he left the comfort of his bedroom and headed to see the source of the fantastic smell.

Upon reaching the kitchen he was greeted with the sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, “What’s all this commotion about?”

Stopping her movements from stirring the pot, she smiled, “Cooking dinner; made carbonara,” she pointed to the pot she was currently attending to, “Baked some garlic bread,” she pointed to the pyrex container which had a few loaves of bread in it, “And some chicken tenders as well, because I was craving.”

Nodding, he grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite of it to which she gasped, “Andy! Couldn’t even wait a few more minutes!” The taller man could only sheepishly smile with his mouth full of chicken, “Sorry ‘bout that, want me to set the table?”

“Please do. Oh and I noticed you had a certain beer in the fridge so I hope you don’t mind I bought you a pack?” As she mentioned that he did see a new, unopened pack next to the single beer he had left inside the fridge. “Thanks for that; red wine your poison?” He inquired since he noticed a wine bottle he surely never bought. Seeing her nod, he asked if she wanted a glass to which she said yes to. In the next few minutes a comfortable silence engulfed them as they both were focused on preparing their first meal together. 

Once everything was put in place they both sat across each other, Y/N placed her hands under her chin and looked at Andy with an excited look in her eyes, the man raised his brow at her, asking her nonverbally what she was looking at him for. “Go ahead, try it,” she softly encouraged him to which he nodded and swirled his fork around the pasta which the white sauce had already clung into and opened his mouth to taste.

“It’s good,” he complimented her as he swallowed, “Better than anything I’ve eaten in the past few months.” She clapped her hands and started to eat as well. “I was surprised to see your lack of groceries.”

He waited until his mouth was empty from eating the garlic bread she had before explaining, “Don’t really cook a lot; survived off takeout recently.” Despite having her mouth full with a tender, a loud shock was emitted from the woman across and Andy lightly cuckold at how adorable her reaction was. 

“Lucky for you, I love to cook so you won’t be filling yourself up with that junk,” she assured him as she drank from her glass of wine. Setting his fork down he looked at her skeptical, “What brings you to Newton anyway?”

Her hands tore the garlic bread as she gulped down her drink, “Just finished college then found a job here so there’s that.”

“Which program did you take?” He wondered; not knowing if it was his curiosity about someone living in his house or it was the lawyer in him couldn’t help but question everything.

“Took a few years off after high school to know what I really wanted to do; then just took a two year course,” she further explained as she told him which degree she chose. Somehow her answer just had Andy even more interested so he pried, “Why not get a full degree?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to waste four years of my life.” 

“Would four years really be wasted if you spent it studying something you’re interested in?” he retorted back as he took a swig of his beer.

“Touché,” she acknowledged as she gobbled some pasta, “But I don’t know, I just feel like the time I’m spending on studying would be better spent if I was actually doing something I want. Get a job I wanna do. Visit every state in the country. Get a house with a pool. You know, just do things that make me happy without having any regrets”

As she listed off the things she desired in life, a solemn expression graced Andy’s face. Her perspective did make him think about how he lived his own life as well. Perhaps how there were certain choices that did make him happy and somehow there were regrets lingering in his mind. “And have you done any of those?”

“Well obviously I don’t have a house,” she joked as she waved her hand around Andy’s home, “But I did get a job here that I think I’ll enjoy, an 8-5 kind,” she paused for a while to gulp down more of the red wine she bought, “What about you?”

“What about me “ he questioned back as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She rolled her eyes jokingly, “What’s your story, I guess? What brought you here in Newton?”

Her naivety had him questioning whether or not she knew the whole ordeal that his family went through; but he spared her of the full details, maybe next time or once he felt like he could fully trust her he’d tell her everything. “Had family here with me, but not anymore,” her eyes widened in shock with what he revealed but he was quick to reassure her, “I'm divorced now, ex-wife has full custody of our son. Used to be an assistant district attorney, now I’m just in private practice for civil litigation cases.”

Somehow, Andy felt a weight unload once he told her about him. Though granted it wasn’t the whole thing, but having someone to talk did make him feel lighter, more human. Y/N, on the other hand, felt amazed with how Andy chose to carry on despite what he’s been through. She got the feeling there was more to it than what he let on; and pity was not what she felt but more of feeling happy with how he did not give up and instead keep on going.

Holding her glass she raised it, “Here’s to new beginnings and being single then,” she toasted. Smiling, he raised his beer bottle and brought it to touch against her glass, “To new beginnings and being single.” The two then proceeded to finish the rest of their meal in silence.

The sun was shining bright that Monday morning and Andy woke up early to head down to their basement and do his morning exercise. Thirty minutes into it, he could sense that Y/N had woken up not only due to her footsteps he heard, but also because he could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

As he finished his workout, he headed up to his room to take a quick shower and dress up for his work. Granted it might have been too early to do all those but the smell of the food and the company of which he’d be eating breakfast enticed him to do so. Heading down, he was dressed in his full lawyer gear, minus the jacket, and smiled as he saw Y/N eating the rest of her pancakes by the breakfast bar.

“Morning Andy,” she greeted him, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like,” she pointed to where she had just gotten a cup for herself as well. “Thank you,” he then moved to get himself a cup and once he did he took note of a plate that had a couple of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Pointing to it he accused her, “It’s as if you want me to waste the workout I just did huh.” She threw her head back in laughter at what he said while shaking his head to tell him that it wasn’t her intention. Glancing down on her wrist watch she mumbled a soft, “Shit,” upon noticing the time. Stacking her mug on the plate she moved to the sink where Andy grabbed the cutlery and utensils from her, “Let me do it and go ahead.”

Placing a hand on his forearm — in which they both felt relaxed and warm at their first touch — she thanked him for doing so and grabbed her bag that she placed on the couch. “Good luck on your first day,” Andy called out as he began munching on his own food. She yelled a quick thanks and see you as she closed the door behind her. Staring down on his plate, he smiled again upon seeing how the food in his plate resembled a smiley face; She really is something, he thought to himself.

The rest of the week flew by and both Andy and Y/N spent the week almost doing everything together. The former would wake up early and get his workout down; and sometime during the 45 minutes he’d spend on the basement the latter would take that time to prepare herself for the day ahead as well as the most important meal for their day. And if there were leftovers from the night before or that she had made too much for breakfast and was able to whip it into something for lunch, then she packed those not only for her, but for Andy as well.

And their routine together did not just stop there it bled into the night as well. Where it was always Y/N who came home first. After taking a bath either she’d start cooking supper or she would clean around the house a little — she noticed how Andy’s office area was frequently messy and she did her best to fix the mess without being too intrusive about it. She never step foot in his room, wanting him to have his privacy, but from what she could see he kept it organized despite having a few trash here and there, so she didn’t really loiter in that area of the house.

In hindsight, Y/N didn’t have to cook and clean for Andy. But with how low her rent was she felt that it was only fair to do so. Plus there was a part of her that somehow liked being around him, having someone to talk to about everything and anything they both could think of. There was never really a dull conversation between them.

Friday night arrived and instead of cooking another meal Y/N decided to get a pizza, wings, and another pack of beer for Andy. As she was in the liquor portion of the grocery she bumped into one of their neighbors, Joan RIfkin, whom she also recognized as one of the friends of her workmate.

“Y/N, right?” the woman asked as she looked at her with concern. “Yeah, that’s me. We met through Emily, when you helped her get to work,” Y/N recalled, both for her and Joan.

“Is it true that you live with Andy?” her question had Y/N wondering, how the hell did she know that? Despite that thought she nodded, “Room was cheap so I thought why not?”

Her nervous chuckle could not ease the tension between the two ladies; especially when Joan gave her a stern look as she warned her, “Be careful, okay? The Barber’s caused quite a ruckus and Andy is quite unpredictable.”

As Joan walked away while pushing her cart, Y/N was left confused and conflicted. The new information presented to her, though it was vague, left her puzzled about whether or not it was true. She was also unsure about the need to clarify with Andy what she has just been told.

Once his car was parked in the garage, Andy loosened his tie and entered the house. What greeted him was not the sight of Y/N cooking but her sitting on the couch while scrolling through her phone. Placed in the coffee table was a pizza box, his usual beer, a glass of wine, and box of chicken wings as well as a couple of paper plates.

“Didn’t feel like cooking today huh?” he jeered as he placed a hand on his hip, the other hand holding his briefcase for work. Diverting her eyes from her phone to the man in front she grinned at him, “No, but I felt like having pizza. Maybe we could watch a movie while eating?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go change quickly,” he told her and she nodded. Andy then went up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to do so. Somehow there was this part of him that was incredibly excited at the thought of being physically close with Y/N. but he just shook his head at the thought and claimed that he was just excited to unwind the week’s stress with food, beer, and a movie.

Heading down after he dressed in more comfortable clothes he asked, “Alright, what are we watching?” Y/N shrugged as she moved to open the box of pizza, “Want a slice?” Andy nodded as he grabbed the remote and thanked her, “You heard about the hippie who burnt his mouth on the pizza?”

While holding a pizza slice of her own she looked at him and tilted her head to the side, her face being a combination of confusion and curiosity, one that Andy found charming. The bearded man had his face in faux seriousness as he continued, “He ate it before it was considered cool.”

Upon realizing the joke, Y/N let out a few giggles — real giggles, Any took note. “Okay not gonna lie, that was good,” she took a bite, “ Haven’t heard that one before.” Saying that made Andy feel proud, somehow his lame dad jokes made this brilliant woman laugh. “You wanna watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?”

She nodded at his suggestion, “Yeah why not? Haven’t watched that in a while.” And so they both began to watch it as they ate and drank.

As they watched the film their occasional laughs were the only sound emitted from the two. As Andy was grabbing for a few slices or chicken wings, he found himself scooting closer beside Y/N, who didn’t really mind it and instead found having him close was comforting. The wartm that seeped past his clothed thigh and on to her bare skin as she was only wearing shorts made her feel safe. And somehow Andy’s arm found itself draped across the couch, almost touching Y/N’s shoulders, his fingers almost touching her. When she did move to drink her wine her skin touched the tips of his fingers rested on her shoulders and Andy who drank some of his beer as well looked alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I can move away if you’d like,” he said as he began to remove his hand from where it was comfortable in her shoulder. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him a little too quickly, “I mean, I don’t really mind. I’m not the type of person who hates hugging so I don’t really mind at all.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from physically cringing with what she said and how stupid it must have soounded like; but the man beside her didn’t think so based on his eyes crinkled in laughter. His arm then dropped from being on her shoulders and settled itself on her waist and pulled him as close as they could be sitting beside, “Well I hope you won’t mind if I do this then?”

She felt herself flutter with how smooth the man was and just silently assured him by placing her head against his shoulder, both turning their attention back to the movie.

As the end credits rolled, they both were full and were just now finishing up the last of the drinks. Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she had an internal debate about whether or not she should bring up her conversation with Joan earlier.

“You alright, Y/N?” Andy noticed how her actions might have indicated how she was nervous, a complete opposite to how she was earlier. Setting down his empty bottle on the coffee table, he turned to her and grasped both her hands in his, loving the feel of her soft hands against his calloused ones.

“It’s just, there’s something I need to ask,” she sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if it would have helped her say it better, “No, not really ask, but tell you. I don't know.” Her hesitation and uncertainty was something Andy easily sensed and he did his best to calm her down by rubbing their hands together and telling her she could tell him anything.

“So after work, I headed to the grocery to grab your beer, right? Then I saw Joan there, I don’t know her surname though. Anyway, she warned me to be careful of you because you’re unpredictable and that your family had caused a ruckus?” She ended her encounter with the woman by looking up at Andy, and the latter was surprised that there was no disgust in her tone and facial expressions; but more of worry? As if she was worried that rumors were spreading around about him and his family.

He stopped rubbing her hands and instead settled with fiddling with them, “I think it’s best if you found out now,” he began before taking a deep breath, “Almost two years ago, Ben Rifkin, a fourteen year old boy, died. At the time I was the assistant district attorney and was assigned to investigate. When fingerprints of my son, Jacob, were found in the body everyone assumed he did it.”

“Did he?” Y/N question when she noticed it took Andy sometime to continue with his story. Shaking his head no he picked up where he left off the story, “He didn’t, his fingerprints were there because he just saw the body, panicked and didn’t call the police. A man who had a record for groping and stalking kids did it. But Joan, Ben’s mom was still convinced that Jacob had something to do with her son’s death even after it was proved that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about that Andy, she has no right to name you and your family those things,” Y/N was quick to comfort him. But he only chuckled sadly, “Does she not?” She could feel that there was more Andy wanted to say so she remained silent, “During the trial and investigation, they were fully convinced Jacob did it because of me, of my father.”

He said those three words with so much hate and disdain, “My estranged father, rather, he raped and killed some student many years ago. Now he’s serving a life sentence for it. They claimed that I had this murder gene and somehow Jacob got it too, hence why he killed Ben.”

After hearing his explanation, Y/N now understood why Joan claimed Andy was unpredictable. She also empathize with the mother who lost her son and understood why she felt this indifference towards the Barbers; but she still believed that maybe Joan would someday accept that the what they’ve been believing — that Jacob had any involvement for her son’s death — is nothing but mere suspicion that was proved false.

“I mean, I understand why she holds this sort of grudge against you or your family,” Andy’s heart dropped at what Y/N said and loosened his grip on her hands, prepared to hear her say how she wanted to leave his house that somewhat felt like home ever since she came, “But it’ll take time for her to accept the truth and disregard the suspicion she had. I believe in what you say and do think that you are harmless.”

Her statement had Andy looking up from where he was staring at their hands and looked up at her with relief in his face, “What?” He could not help but sound meek as he asked so; but he felt the opposite, he felt empowered and invincible upon knowing that there was someone on his side for once.

Deciding to do something risky, Y/N leaned forward to plant a gentle and comforting kiss on Andy’s forehead, “What happened to Joan’s son was horrible, yes. But if you say, and an investigation says your son had nothing to do with it, then I believe it. And murder gene? The only thing that a gene can pass down to us is sickness,” she joked, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and was pleased to see how Andy laughed softly at it,”You’re not what your father did, okay? The only way to define you is through what you say, think, and do.”

Andy smiled as he stared at her lovingly, “And if I think and tell you that you’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and that it's been great having you here live with me?” She laughed as she rested her cheek against her hand and sassed at him, “I’d call bullshit ‘cause you probably used that line with your wife.”

He just rolled his eyes as he moved her around so she could comfortably lay her head against his chest as he wrapped his muscular arms around her frame. “Well then I’m just gonna have to do my best to prove it to you the entire time you’re here then.”

Turning her head so she could face him, “Well joke’s on you, I plan to be here for quite a long time.” The butterflies in Andy’s stomach then went wild at what she said, but his composure allowed him to answer back with, “I don’t mind that at all, honey.”

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he then teased her about the grin she had on her face and two then talked the rest of the night away.

part two

[secondhand-trash]

Love in the Time of Allergies

A/N: this is a concept from @redbeanteax and I’m down immediately after she told me about it lmao

Pairing: florist!Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Description: You were a tattoo artist who loved flowers and he was a florist who was allergic to flowers.

Word count: 6785

Playlist:

How Long?//Vampire Weekend

Pleaser//Wallows

Flowers In Your Hair//The Lumineers

-

If you take a turn at the first corner of the bustling shopping district, you would find yourself in the quieter, older parts of the area. If you wandered through the many narrow lanes, maybe you would get further and further away from the flagships and tall windows of the main avenue in front of the quaint little flower shop hidden away from the noisy crowd, bunches and bunches of bouquets lined up at the windows and pots hanging from the awning.

Sakusa Kiyoomi lived right above that flower shop, which he coincidentally runs.

Every morning, he woke up to the sun shining through the thin linen of his curtains. The streets were already alive by the time he was awake. The sounds of delivery vans driving past his window, the crisp bells of school children riding along the road to school on their bicycles ticking his still hazy senses. He was not a snoozing type of person by all means, immediately getting up to get his day starting the moment he paused his alarm. Then he would fold up his sheets neatly, getting them in the washing machine so he could replace it with the ones that had just finished drying the night before. Sakusa always made cleaning the first thing he does right after he wakes up, it made him feel productive and he relished in the feeling that his space was spotless at every corner. 

By the time he was done, it would be time for him to go downstairs to open up the store and get ready to receive the batches of fresh flowers that were delivered every day. If he pushed open his windows, the sweet smell of flowers together with the morning air would fill his room.

A florist with a face that looked like he walked out of an ink portrait from the old times, just him standing there could be worthy as a still from any movie scene. Long, nimble fingers placing each stem right where it belong, the beauty marks above his brow moving as the man furrowed his eyes in concentration like the morning dew sliding off the white petals of a blooming flower.

A beautiful man and beautiful flowers. It would have been a breathtaking sight if you could ignore the fact that the florist was sadly, severely allergic to the flowers that he was surrounded with at every waking moment of his life.

Sakusa himself would like to argue that you could not, and should not, brush off such an important detail to his survival. Thank you very much.

How did he become a florist in the first place if he was allergic to flowers, you may ask. Well, He didn’t know. One day, he was filling in for his cousin who couldn’t attend his shift because he had dropped ill. Said cousin might have deliberately hidden up the fact that he was working at a place that sells flowers and by the time Sakusa arrived at the storefront feeling like he got struck by thunder, it was too late.

It was a pity that he was such a natural, so much so that he received a phone call from the then shop owner asking if he could come back the next day.

Sakusa still thought about that day occasionally. What had he done to himself, he looked at the sky and let out a long sigh.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was inclined to believe that he must have committed some sort of indescribable crime in his last lifetime to deserve this cruel joke from the universe.

Pulling up the latex gloves, he released the elastic band with a snap as it sit snugly on his wrist. He had his protective suit on, the white plastic covering him from his neck all the way down his legs. He had his mask and mask cover (yes, the mask needed its own cover) on before pulling his hood over and making sure that all his hair was tugged in.

Looking at the mirror, he let out a satisfied hum. Perfect, now all he needed to do was wait for the truck to arrive.

“Hello! Your delivery is here!” 

The deliveryman was a new employer of the company, his uniform neatly buttoned up all the way. He checked his reflection in the window from outside the shop, reminding himself to put on a good smile when greeting the client. It was his first time going out for delivery on his own without a senior tagging along and he intended to leave a good impression.

He shifted his weight from one foot to another while waiting for someone to answer the door. He looked around the street, taking in a deep breath of the morning air. It was a rumor among employers that there was a living urban myth on this street, one that looked like it walked out of a chemical waste field in a dystopian novel was what they said. He chuckled to himself when he recalled how terrified they looked at the describe the myth. Look at the street with its sunshine and serenity, they should at least pick a more suiting location for the lie if they wanted to prank the newbie.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s alright! Please notify me after you checked if all the stock is correct,” he said with a wide smile as he turned around to where the footsteps were coming from, “mr- AH!!!!!!!”

-

A few blocks away, you paused when you heard an ear piercing scream from outside. 

“Did you hear something?” your manager asked, looking out of the shop window with a confused look, “I swore I heard someone screaming.”

You tilted your head, looking away from the poster you were trying to hang onto the wall to follow where they were looking at. There were no panicking or people running to take cover so it didn’t seem like something major had happened. You shook our head, “Maybe it’s the sound of tires screeching?”

“Hm,” they glanced outside in wary but turned back to the empty store with a sigh, “is the backroom all set up?”

Your arms withhold in the air for a moment as you tried to see if the frame was before clasping your hands together in satisfaction before climbing off the stool you were standing on to turn and face your manager, “Yeah, I told the people to place all the chairs down as you said and all we needed to do was to unpack our tools, loaded up the shelves and we’re all done.”

“Ok, good,” they let out a heavy breath, placing their hands on both sides of their waist, “I still can’t believe the landlord of our last place can just take back the lot just like that.”

“Hey, they want to sell it to a big corp for quick bulk of cash instead of renting it out to a tattoo parlor, not that it doesn’t make sense,” you said with a click of your tongue, a loop-sided grin making its way onto your face as they chuckled at the saltiness you were not holding back at all, “at least we managed to find a new place fast.”

“Well, that’s true,” they said, “this seems like a pretty nice street.”

Other than the fact that someone screamed like they walked out of a horror movie in the morning out of nowhere, you thought to yourself but nodded no less as you two stood side by side and looking out of glass windows, trying to not think too much of it.

The fact was, you were just glad that you still had a job. It felt like the sky fell on your head when you walked into your humble little workplace one day to see the heavy expression everyone was wearing only to be told that the lease for the parlor would not be renewed next term. It wasn’t easy to just find a new place to rent so quickly nowadays and the possibility that you might go jobless for months horrified you to no end. 

You liked the parlor you worked in. You had heard your fair share of horror stories of how some places mistreat their apprentices before you made the commitment of applying to become one and even though you were scared out of your mind while you asked if the place was still taking apprentices after being turned down numerous times already, it was nothing short of luck that you ended up being under a group of very nice people when you actually did succeed. You had been in this parlor for several years now, staying behind even after you got your license. You liked the homely little shop and you most definitely loved working for the owner who taught you so much so you couldn’t be more glad when they came in just a week before everything at the old place must be cleared out saying that a new lot had been secured. 

You now needed to wake up a good hour earlier than before and take a bus that you were sure would take you to the other end of the town if you overslept by one station just so you could make it to work on time, but no complaints. At least the street looked nice, and there was a flower shop just a few blocks away from the parlor which you were very happy about. 

You liked flowers, you had always found them to be great inspirations.

“Hello?”

A crisp ring of the bell interrupted the silence you were having while you two quietly unwrapped all the tools and whip them clean before putting them in place at the back.

“Can you go get it? I think it might be some of the other decorations being delivered over.” they said, staring at the little scratch at the back of one of the lamps with a painful expression in their eyes as they realised that it could not be rubbed away no matter how hard they tried.

You pushed away the bubble wrap that was piling up on your legs before standing up, dusting off the plastic strands before walking out to the front of the store.

“Hello- ah!” 

You jumped when you saw a.. well you weren’t sure if that was a person because there was no face for you to identify but they had to be because you could not begin to process what else they might be underneath the full body plastic suit paired with what almost looked like a bee hat, standing at the front door with their arms stiffly extended and holding a flower basket in hand.

Your breath was rigid as you tried to calm yourself down, slowly getting back into a proper posture as you tried to ignore the million questions running through your head. 

“Hello,” the voice sounded a bit distant from behind the mask but you could still make it out to be the voice of a young man. “I’m Sakusa from the flower shop a few blocks away.”

“Oh. Oh, oh, nice to meet you," you blurted out, giving a slight bow when you realised that you were still standing there in a daze, never feeling so confused as to when the person replied to your panicking gestures with a slight nod, “I’m (y/l/n), I’m one of the tattoo artists who work at the parlor.”

So this was the person who runs the flower shop? You tried to control yourself from making it too obvious that you were stealing glances at his more than peculiar attire for walking on the street under broad daylight. You weren’t aware that florists had to dress in bee suits.

Sakusa raised his already raised hand a little, “This is a welcoming gift for your opening.”

“Ah, thank you so much,” you said, gingerly taking a few steps forward to take the flower basket from his glove covered hands. He seemed to be relieved after you took the flowers away from him, letting out a soft sigh and relaxing his shoulders.

“If you need any help please always feel free to come over,” he said, sounding rather unnatural as he stayed where he was, maintaining a fixed distance from you.

“Of course,” you replied, standing with your back just a little straighter at the sheer tension that you were feeling under the stare of a man whose face you could not even see, “thank you for the flowers.”

He gave you another nod before walking out the door and you waited, standing there until he was completely out of your sight and let out the breath you had been holding in.

That was strange, you thought to yourself as you took a look at the basket you were holding.

Hm, the arrangement was very pretty though.

-

At first, you were very hesitant to even go near the radius of the glass door with flower pots hanging down. Could you be blamed? Who wouldn’t be intimidated by a person who showed up in a full body plastic suit? But eventually, your urge to find good references for your sketches gave won over your prejudice and you gathered up all your courage one day while you didn’t have any bookings and walked into the flower shop a few blocks away. 

You weren’t sure if you were more bewildered or satisfied by your predictions being correct when you walked in to see him standing by the counter being covered from head to toe. Sakusa still looked as stiff as he was when he showed up at the parlor last time when he was in his own store, watering the flowers with this oddly long sprinkler. 

You still felt that to be pretty strange but you were determined that no matter what, you were not walking away from that place emptyhanded.

Surprisingly, he was not as hard to approach as you had thought he might be and he was very helpful when you were overwhelmed by the many pots lining the store, pointing to the bunch of colourful daisies at the far corner when you told him you wanted something that looked delicate.

You started ordering bouquets from Sakusa’s store regularly a while later.

This did not look right. You stared at the black lines on the paper, feeling like your head was about to explode at how you could not point out what was exactly wrong with it but it simply didn’t look like the image you had in your head.

Throwing the pen down, you leaned back against the couch in the front room with an exasperated sigh as you glanced at the hand on the clock that tilted more and more as each second passed.

What happened to delivery at 3pm sharp?

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you jumped up at the sound of the door being pushed open and Sakusa walked in with a bouquet of carnation in hand. He was still covered but even without seeing his face, you could tell how he rushed over with the slight heaving in his voice, “there was a... dire situation back at the shop and I had to get that handled before I can make the delivery.

Sakusa shivered as he recalled how there was this customer who kept sneezing while walking around the store. 

“It’s alright,” you said, getting up from the couch where you were laying on, “can you help me put it in the backroom?”

“Of course.”

“Just putting it here would be alright.” you gestured to the small table at the corner and he nodded before putting the ceramic pot down.

From the corner of his eyes, he spotted the last several bouquets and pots you got from him the past week lined up on the shelf at another side of the room.

Sakusa tilted his head. He had regular customers but none that showed up as often as you did and none that bought flowers for no specific reason at all other than to look at them. “Do you like flowers that much?"

He wasn’t sure what it was about the look of pure fascination in your eyes when you looked away from the colourful flowers to face him, but he felt an unexplained antsy feeling rising at the back of his neck.

“I guess it’s not so much of a sentimental liking than just admiration,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “they can be so simple but so detailed all at the same time,” you chuckled, “I find all my best works to be of floral patterns.”

You could not see his face behind the mesh net but you could guess that he was probably squinting his eyes right now with the way his body bent just a little forward. He was interesting to observe, and you had found quite a bit of entertainment in watching him.

“Here,” his eyes widened when you rolled up your sleeves with a laugh. He was wondering how you didn’t seem to have any tattoos on your unlike the other artists who he had met but it seemed like you just didn’t feel as much of a need to put them on display at all times. Under the white sleeves that now rest on your elbow, there were inked lines littering all across your arm, stopping at your wrist and he could only imagine that the vines would go further up into where the faintly see-through fabric was covering.

“This is the first tattoo I ever did on my own,” you said, tilting your arm so that he could see the sunflower on the inside of your wrist, “this is a gift to myself after I finished my apprenticeship.”

“My actual first tattoo though,” you lifted your arm up, showing him the morning glory that peaked out from under your sleeve, hanging on the vines that hugged the side of your arm, “is this one,” you had a look of nostalgia in your eyes like you were greeting an old friend, “I got it the moment I turned 18 without my parents knowing, to remind myself to be resilient like morning glories that climb high even on stone walls.”

He felt like he was invading some sort of precious intimacy that was supposed to be sealed up and savoured when you gently hooked your finger under the collar of your shirt, pulling it to the side just enough for him to see the dots of baby’s breath above your collar like tiny stars.

“But this one is my favourite. I got it because... well...” you poked your tongue out before pushing the folded collar back in place, “I just think it looks nice.”

Sakusa didn’t quite understand what the aesthetic appeal of flowers that you seemed to be so fixated on was. He worked with flowers but they weren’t anything that means much to him unless you count “mortal danger” as a special meaning. But as he watched you fix your shirt, the botanicas on your skin once again hidden from sight by the silky fabric that fell down like morning mist in the market street, he found himself sparing another glance to the flowers he just handed to you and wondered what they would become under your pencil and ink.

“Do you keep all of them around?” he asked, referring to the many different flowers that didn’t look like they go together on the shelf. 

“Sometimes I’ll let clients take away the ones that I already sketched if they like it but I kinda just put them here the rest of the time,” you replied, touching one of the petals of the tulips that were sitting in a vase, “it’s quite a pity that I can’t put them in the front but the manager said it doesn’t fit the rest of the décor.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, even though it’s not like you could see him do so with the cover of the black mesh, and said something that surprised even himself once it was vocalised.

“If what you need is a reference for your sketches, you can always come over and look at the ones we have on display.”

“Really?” you did not hide the sheer excitement you had towards his suggestion, only to back down sheepishly when you realised how eager you were, “But would that be much of a bother to you?”

He was never much of a people person. He had a very carefully selected few close friends around him and he did not intend to broaden his circle any time sooner. He barely even wanted to interact with his customers all that much if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the business, if he was being honest. His palms were starting to feel clammy from the sweat that wasn’t there just earlier, a feeling he very much so dread but the twist in his stomach that he could not begin to understand somehow hazed over this usual discomfort.

“Well, if you are only sitting there and sketching I don’t see that to be much of an issue...” he said, his voice getting tinier and tinier like he was starting to be confused over his own words. 

You walked him out of the parlor with a very, very wide smile that day, thanking him again and again and joking that it was too late for him to take his offer back now because you were going to start annoying him daily. He wanted to argue that you already went around for your flowers often enough that making it a daily occurrence wouldn’t be much of a difference but he bite it back, worried that it would come out harsher than he had meant it and gave you the impression that he actually didn’t want to talk to you.

Which was strange, considering how he never really thought that he actually did want that to happen.

-

You started showing up at his shop every day, as you had said you would. 

At first, your interaction with him was limited to the brief exchange of greetings when you walked into the store, informing the working Sakusa that you would look around yourself and he didn’t need to worry about you. You used to spend so long just standing there and sketch, stretching your neck that was sore from drooping down every once in a while. You said he didn’t need to pay any attention to you but as the owner, he still felt somewhat of a responsibility to show his care about his visitors’ well-being. 

Then you showed up at his place again only to find a little bar stool by the counter.

You looked at the suited man at the side and he looked away from under the mask under your stare. “I got you a chair because you are here for very long each time,” he added under your appreciative stare, “people are gonna get the impression that everyone can just walk in and do the same.”

So you now had your own designated spot in his shop, right by the counter where he worked. 

You started actually chatting to him after then and you liked to think that you two were friends, even though you still didn’t know what he looked like under the bee hat.

Until one day, when you went along the sidewalk of the peaceful street to the flower shop a few blocks away and saw a strange man struggling at the front door.

You froze in place, taking a few steps closer to the walls so he would not notice you too easily.

Who was this? You looked on warily at the lean figure that was shaking the lock on the glass door rather vigorously, seeming to be more and more frustrated with each moment passed. You could not see his face clearly with the dark curls that fell onto the side of his face. He was dressed in full black, black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers that only accentuated how long his limbs were. The attire did little to help with your suspicion that he was not there for a proper purpose, seeing how he was starting to shake the handle of the door and let out a tired groan when it stayed closed.

Would it be someone trying to break in? In the middle of the day? Oh god, you felt the blood drain from your face when you realised what this meant.

Sakusa would have a breakdown if some unknowns leave dead skin cells over all his things.

“Um... excuse me?” you gathered up your bravery and walked towards the man, slightly taken back when he snapped around to look at you. He was way taller upfront and you gulped.

To your surprise, he didn’t look shocked when you approached him. In fact, he seemed to have calmed down a little from his earlier irritation with the lock upon seeing you.

“Did I not tell you we are closing early today?” he said, crouching forward slightly.

“Oh, I’m just here to look for a friend...” you paused, your eyes widening when you heard how familiar his voice was, “wait... Sakusa?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, brushing the piece of hair that had fallen onto his face away from his eyes. “Yes?”

You were so prepared to fight whoever it was that might be busting the lock open but you were not prepared for this. You were so used to seeing Sakusa in his full body protection gear that the idea of him being this faceless entity got so comfortable in your head, seeing him as someone with actual facial features and expressions made you feel like you were meeting a whole new person all over again. He was staring at you, bending even forward as he waited for you to say something in confusion. The posture allowed you to take a clearer look at his face, and somehow it sent more adrenaline to your system than the nerves you got from thinking that you were about to witness a crime.

Wait, hold up. Why did no one tell you that he was hot?

From the angle you were at, your eyes immediately caught on to the sharp arch of his eyebrows, the two moles on one side dotted on like ink on white paper. His bone structure was pronounced, the defined curve lining his eyes going down to the tip of his nose. He was looking down at your through his long lashes, his lips pursed as he waited for you to say something.

You felt a slight regret rising in your chest for his face that was wasted away because its owner decided to dress like a b-movie crazy scientist.

“Why are you trying to break into your own store?” you asked, breaking the silence when you realised that you had been staring at him like some dazed fool.

He let out a mumbled groan, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “I forgot my mask at the counter before I left but now the door is doing that thing where it gets stuck and couldn’t turn the key,” he turned back to the door, putting both hands on the handle and yanked.

“Do you need help?” you asked, peaking from behind him.

“Please do,” he sighed and you held onto the frame of the door, “I’ve already been exposed to the air for far too long for-” he gritted his teeth as he gave it another pull.

“My-” a slam on the door pushed the rest of the key that was stuck into the porthole.

“Liking-” 

The door crashed open with a loud bang and you stumbled forward to regain your balance. He sucked in a deep breath when he felt the sweat on his palm, walking as fast as he could to the counter and let out a relieved sigh when he pulled out another one of his white medical masks.

“Why are you closing early today?” you leaned on the counter as you watched him physically relaxed after hooking the cotton band over his ears.

“I’m heading to the flower market today to look for new suppliers,” he said as he pressed down on the wire on the bridge of his nose, “the one we were working with suddenly said they can’t do business anymore because the delivery company refused to send people here which is very strange.”

“I see,” you said, “I was gonna hang around here because I don’t have any more bookings for today, I’ll come back tomorrow then.”

“You can come with me if you want,” he blurted out, his own eyes widening as he paused, “it might be very boring though.”

“Wait, I had never been there before, can I?” you gasped, “I want to go!”

“Ok.” he said rather stiffly, not expecting you to be so excited about what he viewed to be a rather blend thing to do.

He did not know what it was that made goosebumps rose on his arm when you followed him out of the shop, taking a few steps for each on he took just to keep up with him. It was like how it felt when he used to be less careful and got too close to the plants that he worked with, tickling and irritating and made him want to tear his own skin off but not nearly as unpleasant. In fact, he would go as far as to described the feeling as “fuzziness” when you kept talking to him on the way even though he rarely replied with more than a few short sentences.

“Sakusa, can I ask you something?”

Your voice broke him out of his running state of mind.

“Yes?”

“Why do you always wear a full body suit?"

"I'm allergic to flowers.”

“What?” he grimaced at the reaction he had expected, already knowing what you were going to say next.

It was a mistake, Sakusa grumbled to himself as he recounted how his life seemed to be full of mistakes, starting from becoming a florist even though he was highly sensitive to pollen.

“Then how did you become a florist-”

"Please don’t ask.”

“Ok.”

-

“Remember to leave the cover on for the next two hours and wash it with lukewarm water,” you said to your last client with a smile as you opened the door for them, "and just contact us if you need any help with the aftercare.”

You let out a satisfied sigh when they happily waved at you before exiting your sight. There was no better feeling than to see someone being so happy about the piece you did for them. You stretched out your arms, rolling your neck as your back cracked. That took a while, you let out a slight whine when you felt the knot on your shoulder. You found yourself to be the type that emerged themselves into their work completely once started on something which you view to be a good thing but that also meant that your notifications were always blown up every time you did a slightly bigger, more detailed piece.

You recalled your phone to buzz non-stop during the appointment until you got annoyed and turned off the sound completely. Taking it out of your pocket, you took one of your gloves off to unlock your screen.

Your eyes widened at the amount of miscalls and messages that came from Sakusa, who had given you his number after you annoyed him into saving yours. He rarely called you, you were always the one spamming his inbox when he was trying to put you on read.

You had a bad feeling about what had happened when you saw another incoming call from the man who had been bombing your phone.

“Hello-”

“Come over.”

“What?” you said. His voice was pressed down even lower than usual and you clutched your phone closer to your face to hear him clearly. 

“Please just... come over. Come over quick.” he hissed.

“What is going on? Sakusa are you ok?” you felt the panic building up in your chest at the tone he used. 

“I am facing a critical situation and you’re the only help I can get-”

“Ok,” you didn’t wait for him to finish before hastily pushing the door to the street and paced to the direction of the flower shop, “I’m coming over now.”

“Thank you,” he let out a shaky breath, “and please be quick.”

You nearly went over the front door of the shop with how much of a rush you were in. Looking in through the window, the shop was completely empty and you could not even find Sakusa anywhere.

Oh god, what was it that got him in such a crunch?

“Hello?” you asked gingerly as you stepped inside, "Is anyone here? Sakusa?”

There was no one in there. You furrowed your eyebrows as you walked deeper into the stores and past the vases that lined up at the sides.

“Psst..”

You snapped towards where the sound came from.

“Sakusa- ah!” you yelped when you were suddenly yanked down to the floor. You blinked when you saw who it was that suddenly pulled you behind the counter.

“Sakusa, why are you hiding under here?”

You felt bad for finding the very tall, very well-built Sakusa who was once again wrapped up in his plastic suit all curled up under the counter, even more so when you saw that he was actually sitting on a plastic sheet instead of on the bare ground. 

Even if he was finding somewhere to hide, he still uphold his principals.

“There’s this...” he shivered, “thing out there crawling around...”

“Thing? Crawling?” you tilted your head as you looked out, “I didn’t see anything?”

“Well of course you don’t. They are fast and tiny and black and...” he shivered again, shaking his head a little as if trying to shake away his thoughts.

“Fast and tiny and black...” you paused, “you mean a cockroach-”

“Do not say it out loud,” he gritted.

“I’m sorry for saying this but thank god,” you let out a deep breath, “I thought you were being held at gun point or something...”

“How is this any better?” he asked in disbelief, “please help me get rid of it..."

“Sakusa I’m not gonna be your personal bug killer-”

“Before I burn this place down-”

“Ok,” you said with your hands thrown up, telling him to stay put and hold back from doing any property damage. You sighed as you stood up, “Thank god I rushed out in such a hurry that I still have my gloves with me...”

Sakusa finally knew what that burning irritation he felt whenever you gush at him was when he peeked from behind the counter to see you swiftly trapping the cockroach under a plastic bag and swept it up with your gloved hands before taking it out to the street. He felt a rapid rhythm drumming in his chest when he heard a loud stomp from outside, his black eyes following your frame when you came back in with a sigh as you skillfully removed your gloves from inside out and tied them together.

“Um...” he felt the slightest bit uneased as he climbed out from his hiding spot, suddenly feeling small even though he was clearly towering over you, “thanks.”

“It’s alright,” you said with a chuckle, “can’t have you dying on me like that.”

He had never been glad about his allergies until now, feeling just a little bit more self-assured because even though his mind was in shambles from the sudden realisation he had, at least he had the mask to hide his face that he was sure to be flushed from you.

“Do you need help sanitising everything?”

"What?” his voice came out as a whisper.

“Well,” you said matter-of-factly, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I assume you won’t just let it be after that co- that thing got in here?”

“Yeah," he stood up just a little straighter, “yeah, of course.”

Sakusa felt an unexplained taste in his mouth. It was a bit bitter, the dryness making his jaw clenched but he also couldn’t help the muscle at the corner of his mouth from inching up higher and higher as he watched you scrubbing the counter with a cleaning wipe, your forehead crinkling up in concentration

He was so, so in love.

-

You dropped everything at hand and ran out the door when you got his message.

“Can you come over?”

What was it? What was it this time? 

You ignored the bewildered glances from the passersby as you dashed along the otherwise serene street. 

Was it a bug? Did someone sneeze near him? Did some idiot broke the vases and got muddy water on him again? There’s no way that could happen twice in a week, right? Right?

You were heaving by the time you got to his place, nearly tripping into the shop as you tried to collect your breath. Sakusa was standing in front of the counter and facing the door, oddly without his usual bee hat. He felt his stomach twisting in knots as you held yourself up by the door with one hand and the other clutching your chest as you panted.

He did not expect you to show up so quickly. He had thought that he would have some more time to collect himself after pressing “send” with his shaking hands so he could look, well, somewhat cooler doing what he planned to do after a lot of inner conflicts.

“Ok, I’m here,” your hair was a mess as you looked up, your chest still heaving from the run, “what is it? What happened? What do I need to do?”

“Um...”

“Oh god, why aren’t you talking? how bad is it?” you said as you slowly straightened your posture, only to feel your breath hitched when you saw why he was in silence.

Sakusa seemed to be in clear discomfort, his eyes shifting around as his throat bobbed. But it wasn’t his usual look of wariness or discontent and instead, he seemed to be nervous.

And then you saw the bunch of red roses he was holding in hand.

“You know,” he gulped, holding his arm out as stretched out as he could, “a dozen roses means ‘be mine’ in flower language.”

You blinked, your eyes slowly widening as he looked away.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” you licked your lips, a grin finding it’s way to your face, “are you trying to say something?”

“I said,” he gritted from his teeth, his face burning up under your teasing tone, “be mine.”

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, your face aching from the smile that was only growing wider. In your ear, you could hear the steady drumming tapping at you, sending the signal everywhere in your body as you felt the warmth that spread together with it.

Say yes, say yes, say yes...

“Of course.”

He let out a hitched breath as his shoulders drooped, pouting a little when he looked back at you as if he was blaming you for poking fun at him earlier.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the look of resentment only grew when you started giggling, “but you were so cute just then, I couldn’t help myself.”

He grumbled and your giggling turned into actual laughs while he glared at you but couldn’t hide the blush on his face.

“It doesn’t matter as long as I say yes, right?” 

"Sure,” he let out a soft tsk, “but can you please take this?”

“Is that really the way to go at it-”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, oh,” you said when you suddenly remembered his allergy and rushed to take the roses from him, “of course, of course...”

If you take a turn at the first corner of the bustling shopping district, you would find yourself in the quieter, older parts of the area. There was a quaint little flower shop hidden away from the noisy crowd and a tattoo parlor a few blocks away, but you already knew that. You also knew that as bewildering as it sounded, the florist that run the shop was actually deadly allergic to flowers.

But what you didn’t know (or at least pretend not to so he wouldn’t feel too embarrassed) was that for you, the tattoo artist who loved flowers, the florist who was allergic to flowers wouldn’t mind taking off his plastic suit and hand deliver fresh flowers to you every day just to see you smile.

-

Bonus

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” Sakusa said with a deadpan face as he sat on the chair.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he replied, even though his entire body was tensed up.

“Ok,” you said, leaning closer to him, “promise me you won’t regret this.”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you said in a breathy tone, gulping as you placed you held the edge of the tattoo chair for leverage, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Ok.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your boyfriend who had his eyes pressed tightly together as you lifted your hand.

His eyes snapped open at the light peck you placed on his lips.

Look, look. This might seem dramatic but this was a huge step for him, alright?

You blinked, nervous about what he might be thinking, “how was it?”

He seemed to be dazed, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes that were fixed on him.

Nothing could stop the surprised gasp you let out when he suddenly latched onto you and kissed you much more firmly, not letting you move away with his hand at the back of your head.

Your breathing was rapid when he finally let you go, your face heating up when he poked his tongue out and swiped it along his bottom lip.

“I think I might actually like this more than I thought I would.”

[jiminrings]

the volleyball shorts

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: coach koo’s just dying to know what his present is, you’re panicking because you can’t think of a present, and jimin and the gang tolerate jungkook a little bit better because it’s his special day :D // contains smut + gif isn’t mine!!

notes: happy birthday jungkook!!! i baked brownies irl for you u should come over sometime!!!

if you’ve read most valuable, the piece that started it all, then you knOw what i’m alluding to with jungkook and his relationship with y/n’s volleyball shorts!!

you swear,,

you could even really SWEAR on the brand-new refrigerator that you need to knock twice on to see what it contained that you split the price with jimin

and forcibly with also jungkook because he stays over so much at yours and jimin’s place that he’s basically a roommate now

and alsO forcibly with taehyung and yoongi because apparently your apartment is now everyone’s gathering place and they raid and inhale ur fridge atleast 72 times per day that the electricity bill’s gone up

that yesterday, it was just a month away from jungkook’s birthday!! you swear!!

and two hours ago, it was two weeks away!!

AND NOW

you can’t really digest the truth

that it’s just f i v e days away now

and you have zero thoughts to how you’re gonna throw jungkook his birthday bash :D

the guys probably figured that out too lol because they have an idea to how you’d be all over the place for even something miniscule

like one time you and jimin bought two rugs you couldn’t decide upon then you just agreed that you’d fit it underneath the coffee table and whichever looks ugly, you’ll return it later

but then the two rugs ended up being too pretty that you couldn’t decide nOW

and jupiter barked out of the blue and it was a eureka moment because :D aHA jimin what if we just let jupiter pick out the rug?? then that way it’s fair???

but then jupiter ended up lying on bOTH the rugs and now you were distraught

jimin was reassuring you like eH it’s okay let’s just go about our days and not spend y’know :D all our time trying to figure out what to pick :D

and then you obviously refused and you stayed up the whole night picking a goddamn rug and jimin was so close to toppling over in fear when he went to grab water at three in the morning

anyways

that’s why they’re here!!! even before you could call and gather them up when jungkook had to leave by himself to settle some things because he’s the coach,,

even before you could text tae and yoongi to take the elevator, they’re already knocking at your door

“...”

“......”

everyone’s just looking at each other in this makeshift circle you’re all in around the coffee table

even jupiter’s stopped barking and he’s been barking for the past five minutes at the new cactus succulent that jimin bought!!!

they’re waiting

waiting for that —

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO FOR JUNGKOOK I’M SUCH A BAD GIRLFRIEND A-AND-“

aha

meltdown

“not to stir the pot, but jungkook always zones out at practice and even during games then gIGGLES to himself!! and when i ask him why, he says that he’s just thinking about what you’re getting him for his birthday!!”

jimin shudders at that too because whew

like he knew that koo sometimes talks to inanimate objects but man his superior (albeit younger) is out here imagining his birthday present in the middle of a neck-and-neck game

he’s conversing with himself like he’s talking to you and that just makes him speechless

“kook buddy i haven’t played volleyball competitively in like two years but i sUGGEST you focus or else i will spike you haha jk but no really ahaha :))”

“not to stir the pot too, but jungkook asked me to play happy birthday. on the snare. happy birthday. ON THE SNARE.”

this time, it’s taehyung’s turn to shudder

because he got a new head that’s louder and more tear-resistant and he wanted to try it out ok

and what better way to try that than when it’s in one of your practice games??

he has his drumsticks already lifted but then out of nowhere jungkook pOps out with a cheeky grin on his face and tae almost pokes him in the eye

“how many syllables are your name, tae?”

“... are you really asking me this?”

“yeah!! how many?”

“... three, jungkook. what, do you need ME to count yOUR syllables for you??”

oh my god that is such a stupid question

but it’s coming from jungkook so lmao tae isn’t all that surprised

“what’s three plus twenty?”

“i get that you’re an athlete but don’t you kNOW how to count???”

“hyung what’s three plus twenty??”

“... twenty-three....”

tae’s so close to narrowing his eyes because if this is another one of jungkook’s lame pranks then he’s gonna whack him in the head for this

but then all of a sudden jungkook jUMPS and squeals before clapping his hands

“twenty-three days before my birthday!! quick quick play happy birthday for me nOW :D”

that’s so... chilling

“now not to stir the pot even further, but y/n,,, baby,,, why didn’t you brainstorm earlier??”

yoongi goes straight-in for the kill and it’s his version of “i told you so” but that does not make it better whatsoever

that’s the thing you don’t know either!!!!

and it’s totally your fault and you shouldn’t have been complacent because now you’re paying the repercussions of cramming AND panic-sweating!!!

it’s okay!

you got this! :D

“how about some more black shirts??” tae pitches in and it’s a resounding no from you and the assistant coach

“jungkook has enough of those,, even jimin and i can take a dozen from his stash and it won’t even make a dent!!”

jimin’s racking his brain and he hasn’t thought about something this hard but ok fine anything for you

“new chunky shoes?? but uGH he already has too many of those-“ that makes him groan even harder because buying another pair for kook means him tripping over them

not to mention that the shoe rack is now taken over by jungkook atleast 50%

and once again jimin reiterates <3 this is the y/n and jimin apartment and nOT the y/n and jimin and this dude that dOESN’T pay rent apartment

yoongi’s in deep thought as everyone around him throws ideas around

okay dOn’t tell anyone but yoongi’s now getting into bullet-journaling :D

tae just gave him a dotted notebook one day because he accidentally bought a dozen instead of one from amazon so lol here hyung u like writing right???

by writing, yoongi meant scribbling haphazardly and waking up the next day and trying to decipher his own handwriting

but then he came over to your apartment and you bought pastel highlighters because they were on sale and nOT because you needed them and you wanted to try them out!!! but jungkook was sick that time and you needed to make soup :((

“yeah ok leave it to me,, i’ll swatch it for you or something.,.,.”

one thing led to another and :D AHA

yoongi blackmailed everyone to not say a single word to anyone that he now loves bullet-journaling and he had to whack tae one time when he kept teasing him

also he now has a bujo account on instagram and it’s nearing 5k followers omg and he will d-word when someone irl finds out that it’s him

“boxers.”

yoongi says seriously and it makes everyone shut up because he sounded sO sure

he just has this certain authorative aura around him that you wavered because oH right yes boxers,,, will buy,,,, thank you

lol but you snapped out of it

“jungkook already has too many boxers!! he likes basketball shorts more nowadays and-“

“what? who said the boxers were for jungkook??” yoongi scrunches his nose at your ridiculous reply

your eyes are squinted so hard as you try to decipher the flow of thoughts of everyone in this circle

“oh. i want boxers. want them for christmas!! take note, y/n.”

oh

okay

cool

good news: you now know what you’re gonna give to yoongi on christmas

bad news: you dON’T know what to give to your boyfriend on his birthday five days from now

there’s something somewhere in the middle of all the banter that you’ve tuned out though

something that just makes your eyes bulge and hit whoever’s lap is beside you repeatedly (first of all it’s jimin’s for the record and second oW THAT HURTS) with a grin on your face before you hurriedly stand up and they equally as hurriedly do after

“i know what to get!!”

jungkook’s stArting to get antsy if he’s being honest

it’s not because he’s in his own apartment with you after so long he’s stayed over at yours

he really doesn’t mind that bit, no

jimin, tae, and yoongi were all staying over at your apartment instead as they make the last bit of preparations for jungkook’s birthday the next day!!

they all insisted that you rest because you’ve been so frantic the last couple of days and tbh even taehyung hyped of tWO cups of coffee can’t keep up

no — jungkook’s so antsy because he doesn’t know what you have in store for him :((

for the last five days you haven’t touched him nor did you let him touch you :((

a heated makeover that’s cut too short is as far as it could only go and he’s just so????

like is that a part of your birthday surprise or nOT

he has a love-hate relationship with surprises now because first of all,,,

he kNOWS that there’s gonna be a surprise and that excites him

but the worst of it all is that he knows there’s a surprise but he doesn’t know what it is

that’s like uhm

standing fifty feet away and being forced to pick between a lifetime supply of sugar and salt that’s placed into jars but u don’t know which is which

that is such an odd example to compare it to but that’s only what jungkook could process this now oKAY

you still let jungkook cuddle you so he guesses he could still touch you

he could rest his hand on your tummy!!!

but riGht when he’s about to sneak in a lil squeeze at your boob over your shirt then that’s when you slap his hand away and he frowns

just some hOURS left and it’s finally his birthday!!! he’ll just nuzzle to your neck and all would be fine :)

the lil party’s gonna be thrown in jungkook’s apartment anyways because as you’ve all come to known:

his apartment’s bigger than the one you and jimin share and that irks him because!!!

“yOU have the bigger and better aprtment why are you still cramping at ours???”

“i like staying with you guys!!!”

“nO you like staying with y/n and i come in handy when you need to steal someone’s pasta from!! i bought you tupperware and wrote your name on it but you still eat from mINE!!”

now everyone has their designated roles

jimin’s in charge of making the lasagna and he takes great pride in arranging the layers neatly and not half-assing the amount of cheese

taehyung had the great idea of wAIT what if they don’t like lasagna?? (jimin was offended by that omg who wouldn’t like my lasagna are u kiddinG)

so what he did was bring over this foldable table :D lay cups of ramen neatly :D decorate jungkook’s kettle because he realized that it looks like dOlphin when you tilt it sideways :D

and it’s now tae’s ramen station and so far the party-goers are LOVING it and it’s a close tie between him n jimin

yoongi’s in charge of food that the other two didn’t bother to think about basically

you locked jungkook in his own room lmao and had to bribe him with a kiss or two to stay there and not leave until you tell him to

you’re in charge of the decoration and not to toot ur own horn or anything but you did a pretty damn good job :D

there’s foil balloons you had to blow up and decorate meticulously

lol jimin accidentally bought the wrong ones so now it’s JUNGK00K instead of JUNGKOOK

you even learned how to fold paper cranes so u could fold the quantity of them to jungkook’s age for yoongi to stick them up to the ceiling

you EVEN bought blackout curtains and a lil disco light!!! that’s how well-put you were despite cram-planning!!

it was time to let out jungkook because the guests were starting to come in

and oh my gOD jungkook does clean up well..,.. wow

he’s dressed himself in just a white button-up but with the sleeves folded and some buttons left alone

thEn it’s the same black jeans but with a fancy belt he only pulls out whenever he goes to prissy parties!!!

and oh god

oh my

it’s his slicked hair that’s showing his forehead and tHAT’S when it sinks in you that oh.,.,. right.,.. jungkook’s growing his hair out and he’s been in a cap this past week and OH

it only hits you that oh.,.. jesus christ.,.,. jungkook has a mULLET

it’s a mullet-type of situation and it’s part-straight and part-wavy and wOW

you want nothing more but to pounce on him and it makes you audibly gUlp

jungkook’s as surprised as you were of him because w-wait a second

ok you’re wearing your favorite white shirt with the print on it that you wear at home!! he isn’t surprised

but are you wearing vOLLEYBALL SHORTS.,.,..

like as in the same volleyball shorts... that he..... adores..... a-and fantasizes over

oh my god everybody shut up

is that-

is that hIS OLD VARSITY JACKET????

the one with Jeon embroidered in the back and the one he wore to death that it still has his scent on it even if you washed it clean???

.... oh

that uH that makes jungkook put a hand over his chest

god im coming up

the party was an absolute bLAST!!

you and jungkook would stray from each other time to time because you’re each whisked away to talk but you’d always find each other after

you cAn’t contain yourselves at the sight of one another

kook keeps putting his arm around your waist and you keep squeezing his forearm

over-all it was such a great party 20/10

the girls chipped in to buy their coach jungkook (u put the idea in their head and they were amazed because they didn’t think of it) a smartwatch and he was so :D upon receiving it because wOah!!! omg he’s now a smartwatch owner sUck that kim namjoon

kim wears these fancy analog watches still and that makes jungkook roll his eyes because yEa that may be a rolex but my team did obliterate yours lmaOoo what about that huh

jimin’s gift was very heartwarming no matter how much he denies it to be

first he bought jungkook matching slippers with him because he’s so irked to see jungkook in chunky sneakers aLL the time

then uhm

an official key to the apartment and a written letter that when the two of your drive back,,, you could all do a handprint at the picture frame with the four of you and that’s jupiter’s paw included

you’re not gonna lie that dID make you tear up a little bit because wow :((( jimin used to be hesitant of jungkook at first but nOw he’s officially welcoming jungkook in with no anger whatsoever

kook also did cry a lil bit and they hugged it out

taehyung hand-knitted a blanket for jungkook with lil dolphins on them

he missed some stitches but he did his best oKAY and koo was so excited because wow omg this is so good!!!

yoongi bought jungkook a guitar because yeah.,.,. u dO get into my nerves sometimes but i care for you and i guess you’re my little brother now :)) i don’t make the rules

and as for your gift

... well

everyone’s already left and it’s just the two of you now finally

jungkook’s sat at the edge of the bed patiently because you’re fishing for the paper bag you’ve hidden and he’s sO on edge alright

he’s closed his eyes and you didn’t even tell him to so he’s THAT obedient

“you can open them now,” you’re sat on jungkook’s lap and it’s quite the tease for you to be perched near to his knees instead of his crotch but oK he won’t complain yet

it’s a box??

oh

... oH

“that’s for me??”

jungkook awes immediately when he opens to box and sees shiny silver gleam right up at him

it’s the matching thick necklace and bracelet he’s been eyeing for quite some time now yet refUses to buy

and here it is!!!! right in his hands!!!

“yes and they dOn’t allow refunds so please just wear them and don’t make yourself guilty!!”

you’re taking it from his hands and he’s smiling giddily when you clasp the cool jewelry around his neck and on his wrist

cute

and now it’s time for —

“i’m sleepy. are you sleepy yet?”

you do your part in messing with jungkook as you stifle a yawn, pretending to arrange things around the room before settling near him at the edge of the bed

he almost gives himself whiplash to look at you because you can NOT be serious

“no you’re not. you aren’t sleepy. your eyes tear up when you wanna go to bed.”

it’s endearing for you that he knows thay but you just continue to deadpan for the time-being

“i do? well i think i’m tearing up now.”

jungkook scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest because nO your eyes are dry!!!! look at them!!!! not a single tear!!!!

he’s looking at you so pointedly that it makes you chuckle, finally sitting down on his lap properly like he wanted you to that it makes him grunt

jungkook hasn’t had any decent action for a week now and even the slightest contact of you sitting on him, still-clothed, already makes him cRUMBLE

the thought that you’re in your volleyball shorts doesn’t help at all

it’s nice seeing him so flustered and willed right now,, his pupils already blOwn out and you haven’t even done anything

jungkook’s beautiful and that isn’t up to debate but even more-so up close that you could hear his labored yet trembling breathing

“you wanna kiss me?”

that dOES it for him and he almost leaps at the question but that’s when you pull back to which he audibly whines

:D

you come back again but it’s you who initiates it and jungkook practically melts at the taste of your mouth, already getting handsy as he squeezes at your thighs

he’s the one who’s gaining the upper hand and that was nOT the plan so that’s why you pull away right when he’s getting drunk on you

he’s chasing after your lips and you practically tut at him condescendingly that makes him huff again

“say please.”

aHA

jungkook’s eyes widen at that and he scoffs in disbelief because oh my god so tHIS is what you’re doing

now this is what he makes you say

and you never got him to say please because whenever you urge him to he just laUGHS upfront and it makes you pout

no jungkook’s not gonna do —

his giggling’s cut short when you let your mouth wander to his neck and right on to his sweet spot, immediately sucking on it harshly to paint your mark on

there’s slow kisses on his jugular nexy and you won’t do the same as what you did to him the first time and it’s frUstrating

add on to that with how you remind him you’re still on his lap with you grinding on him tOO pain-achingly slow

ok jungkook might say please after all

you’re coming back up to his jaw again and kissing everywhere but his lips that it’s starting to make him cave

“pl-“ he stops himself because oh gOd is he yielding but that’s when you snap too smoothly right on him, the intimate yet clothed feeling of you enough to make him moan in distress

“please?”

it’s instant relief when you’re back to kissing jungkook again and he might just bURST at this point and you’ve only been kissing him

tasting your lips is his first priority and breathing’s his second that it makes you chuckle with how needy he is, having to push him off because you know he’s getting light-headed

jungkook’s regaining his breath and he still wants mORE unsurprisingly

you’re taking off his shirt and stripping off his pants that leaves him with his boxers but on the other hand, you’re sTILL fully-clothed sans the varsity jacket

he’s about to do something with that which explains his grabby hands trYing to take off your shirt

but his hands not only get slapped away again, you’re pINNING them down back to the bed

“y/n i swear-“

he’s growing restless because he needs you right here and right now but you’re just tOO stubborn and bossy which is definitely a switch of roles

you grind on him a little too roughly than you intended to but the feeling’s more than welcome because you feel so fULL already and it makes jungkook unintentionally thrust into you

your shorts are feeling more than damp and his boxers are being a little tOo tight now

that’s when you lift yourself up from his crotch and let go of his hands, your face dangerously near his as his pupils shake

jungkook’s clearly looking at your centre and he whines when you still (purposely) won’t get what he’s trying to say

he’s always clearly had a vision of eating you out in your volleyball shorts that’s for sUre

but he didn’t imagine it like this and you know what he’s not complaining his hips try to buck up but to no avail, your finger hooked underneath his chin to make him look at you again

jungkook looks sO fucked out and he knows that far

he cries like a lost puppy with how you press your thumb to his bottom lips, your other hand making soothing circles on his chest

“you want a taste?” you ask ever so gently and that makes kook nod more than eagerly, about to pull you by your thighs and his mouth’s wAtering just by thinking about it

it’s the tut you give him again that makes him succumb, throat strained as he trains his pleading eyes on you for permission

“p-please?” jungkook’s too impatient to wait for an answer as he roughly grabs you to position your clothed core right above his face, immediately pressing his nose to inhale the scent of you with his lips ghosting your already-soaked folds — something so obscene about it that it almost makes your knees buckle, “that’s a g-good boy.”

he’s rELISHING on the slip of your tongue and he wastes no times in taking off your shorts, diving in with an eager tongue that takes you off-guard

now this is the real deal

jungkook takes mUCH pleasure in giving you yours and the unhinged and dirty moans you’re giving him are egging him on further

you taste so sweet and it’s enough to make him dizzy with how you’re opened up to him and for him only

he has a death grip on your thighs because you keep twitching and on the other hand he’s cravinG for you to take everything he’s giving you

he slips his hand to thumb at your clit in desperate circles and god the countdown to when you’re gonna reach your peak becomes alarmingly too near

jungkook doesn’t stop when you’re tugging at his hair roughly or when you’re yelling out his name like a mantra

jungkook doesn’t stop either when his face from the nose down is starting to get messy with the taste of you

doesn’t stop either when he’s starting to see your eyes become glassy and your lip trembling

absolutely doesn’t stop when you snap suddenly and gush over him because in fact, he still continues with much more fervor

jungkook was messy and kept lapping up at what you were giving him that’s enough to drive you into anoTher orgasm with how sensitive you are

holy fuck

jungkook’s laughing against your neck as you’re draped over him, making flowers bloom on your neck with his tongue as he makes you catch your breath

“there’s still another gift i haven’t showed you.”

okay nOW you’re nervous

kook stops pressing kisses and your words obviously make him perk, trying to hide his fascination and excitement but that’s poorly-done with how he’s trying to hide it

“you have mORE?? think y’already gave me heaven if i’m being honest”

he wouldn’t be opposed because honestly speaking his stamina as of the moment would last him aLL night and he’s on a high just from eating you out!!

oh my god you can’t possibly fall in love more with jungkook

you’re tracing the sweat that’s going down on the necklace and it makes you go lightheaded with how perfect he looks

the imprint of his bracelet’s marked snug on your left thigh with how hard he was gripping you earlier

he’s patiently waiting and waiting on you, drumming his fingers on your thighs in anticipation

here goes nothing!!!!

you take off your shirt and aHH jungkook visibly moans at the sight of a bare you

he’s right you are the present

but nO that’s not what you’re trying to get at

jungkook has his wandering hands taken down for the nth time this week but something about this feels a bit more special and reserved

he’s a little lost when you get off from him and instead sit beside him against the pillows, still kneeling on the bed so you could be higher than how he’s sat right now

he is mORE than lost when you smile at him gently and take his hand to —

oh

oh my god

oH MY GOD

it’s a tattoo

it’s a tiny and dainty tattoo on your rib in black ink

JJK

“jjk? that’s-“

holy fucking sHIT

everybody shut up!!!

everybody pLEASE be quiet jungkook needs a moment rn

it’s his initials

in his handwriting

on your skin.

oh my god

you’ve always adored jungkook’s tattoos i mean it’s nOt a surprise for anyone

they peak from time to time but sometimes they get covered with his coach jackets and his hoodies

and it’s at home where you can see them all

there’s a little inkling in the back of your head that oOH you’ve always wanted one like what he has

what was holding you back was that maybe it would affect your career or whatever

you and jimin read the guidelines for a whole hour and it wasn’t illegal for players to have tattoos!!!

as long as it doesn’t go against the rules and it won’t hinder your play

tattoos on the wrist or in between the fingers or in the forearm were a little risky because it’s always in direct contact with how you play

jimin was all thumbs-up on your idea because he himself has a couple of tattoos and was all wOah that’s so sweet!!!

taehyung was very warm with your idea and he swears that he’ll get one soon just give him some tIME to conceptualize what would his first one be

yoongi agreed and he alsO has tattoos himself and he was the most realistic (?) out of the four of you going “well you and jungkook better not break up lol”

he thought of it more and honestly?? he doesn’t see you and jungkook breaking up because there’s just sOMETHING alright??? something so unbreakable

jimin and taehyung and yoongi made a bet when you were getting your tat cleaned up that lmao what year would jungkook propose in

it’s your first tattoo and like you didn’t want to dive in head first and have a whole sLEEVE tattooed on the first occassion ya know

so why not the one you love?

and like it’s hidden by a shirt and obviously not a LOT of people would know about it and —

oh wow

uhhhh

jungkook’s.... crying?

he loves you sO much you have no idea

you’re tasting the salt from his tears when he kisses you so tenderly but it’s okay you don’t mind

he’s the one pinning you down this time and well he used to swear that he’s nEver the one for giggly sex

but oh god look at him now

mAYBE THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU’RE HAPPY AND ON CLOUD NINE!!!

he has your hands flat against the mattress before he holds them :D

this is jungkook’s best birthday eVER 

“wanna spend all my birthdays with you.”

you instantly giggle to his neck and that tickled him a little bit okay

“you wanna marry me??”

you’re feeling everything at once and you have never grinned sO hard and laughed

jungkook rolls his eyes but that’s only because he might burst if he keeps looking at you

“well i don’t have the ring yet dummy but yEs i do want to marry you!!”

mrs. jeon!!!

wow that sounds hEAVENLY

you raise your head to whisper to his ear, leaning down for you instead so you wouldn’t strain yourself, “say please.”

“i hATE you,” jungkook cackles and it should be illegal to how warm and content he feels!! 

“you love me!!” there’s a lil sing-song voice and of cOURSE he does!!

he’s so whipped for you and he might go to the ends of the earth just because you insist

“solid facts.”

“my god—“ jungkook stills, laughing at you who’s underneath him before he breaks out into a grin

a little tiny ᵏᶦˢˢ on your nose

“what was life before you?”

[knightofameris]

hot chai tea — kita shinsuke

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: neutral 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: reader has a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1.3𝚔 𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: okay I was trying to not include any notes for these but I had to for this! After writing (well, partially into writing it) this I found that I enjoyed it enough that I wanted to submit it for @agaassi​‘s 4k celebration 🥺 It’s not a cafe AU, but I call it the “cafe au but make it boba” I’ll include a bit more of some notes at the end so uhmmm catch ya in a bit! 

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍: hot chai tea 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 ChaTime  𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔!

⇽ 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 ◜𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚋𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞◞ 

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. 

First you woke up late, you didn’t even have time to eat, the campus bus left you as you were running towards it which made you late to your last 8AM (with an attendance policy) class of the semester. Then, you realized you brought the wrong notebook for your 8AM class for the review session since finals was next week and you forgot your laptop so you resorted to taking notes on your goddamn phone. Ah, but then your phone died and you forgot to bring a charger and a portable. Because of that, you lost track of time while studying that you were late to work. 

You only made it into work 10 minutes late but it was in the midst of a rush and you messed up the first three orders terribly. So badly that your coworkers and manager just put you in the back to sort some things instead. 

That’s how you found yourself scowling as you carried boxes back and forth, organizing cups and food items in the fridge. This is it, this was your villain origin story. Forced to the back after a shitty day and—

A strict, yet soft, voice called out to you. 

You felt a shiver run down your spine, stopping you in your tracks, and slowly turned towards the voice of your manager. 

Kita Shinsuke.

Honestly, you weren’t usually scared of him. He’s a nice guy, kinda robotic at times, but he has an aura that commandeers respect. He says it like it is, but he cares a lot. Always on time, always working efficiently, always able to handle the Miya twins when needed. 

It’s just that... He’s never had a reason to use that voice on you. 

“Ah, Kita-san, what’s up?” You asked, trying to put on a smile. 

His intense eyes stared straight into yours and you immediately looked away, feeling a bit too vulnerable under his gaze. 

“Is there some reason why you’re not performing like you usually do?” 

Right, Kita was always someone who could do his job no matter what happens. Performing anxiety was nonexistent to him. Or any anxiety for that matter. 

“I, uh,” you debated between telling him a lie but you had a feeling he’d read right through you. Maybe being honest was the better choice here. “Just had a bad day.” 

Kita doesn’t say anything. Instead, choosing to wait. So you set down the box with a sigh and began explaining everything that happened. And he listens, fully and wholeheartedly. He doesn’t say anything, nor is he thinking of what to say until you finish. By the time you’re done going over the events that transpired that eventful day you find that you’re choking back tears. 

“I want you to take a deep breath,” he instructed. He walked up to you as you did so and set his hands on your shoulders. “With finals next week, you should go home and rest so it doesn’t impact your exams. Your immune system is weakest when you’re stressed and you should take care of your body-”

“Wait, Kita-san—” It’s already too late, he had you turned around and began pushing you towards the exit in the back. 

“-Eat some dinner and sleep early tonight. Then make sure to get plenty of breaks as you study.” 

“Wait, but Kita, I need to work,” you pleaded, dropping the honorific. Although, that caused you more of a fright than himself as you scampered to try to fix your mistake but Kita just holds up a hand. He didn’t really mind the fact that you dropped it. 

“Do you need the money?” 

You blinked then stare down at your feet with a soft murmur of ‘yes’ and begin to explain, “I work the exact hour of shifts needed to pay for rent before the end of the month. Financial aid only covers tuition and just enough for groceries so...” 

Kita’s quiet for a few moments before he lets out a sigh, “You should still go home.” 

“Wha-? But-!”

“If you need to work an extra shift, I can work one in for you. After finals which is before the end of the month and before your next paycheck.” You frown, weighing your options and as you do so, Kita leaves to go towards the front. Which was confusing as you’re left standing there in the back. You were surprised that none of your coworkers came by but you suppose it’s because they didn’t want to fall under Kita’s wrath with poor word choices. 

It wasn’t until a few moments later that his figure comes into view and in his hand was the standard ChaTime cup that always held warm drinks. Kita holds out the drink towards you and you hesitantly grabbed it. 

“It’s chai tea, not too caffeinated so you’ll be able to rest easy tonight but just enough energy to get you back home,” he told you. You can’t help the few tears that escape your eyes but Kita’s face doesn’t change, no pity and no anger. Just a softness you couldn’t place. It makes your cheeks heat up. You hope you can blame it on you crying, even if it wasn’t much.

“Thank you, Kita-san,” you hesitantly take the cup out of his hands after wiping away the stray tears. “I’ll be sure to rest up tonight.” 

He gives you a curt nod and you’re already on your way to clock out and on the train back to your apartment. You finish the drink by the time you get back to your apartment and do everything that would make Kita proud. Eat dinner, drink water, and rest for the rest of the night. Maybe do a little face mask and watch a bit of Sailor Moon. 

For the first time that day, you were content. 

***

The next time you walk into work is long after finals week finished. There was a bit of a dance in each step you had as you strolled through the boba shop for the morning shift. But that soon came to a halt when you heard someone clear their voice. 

“Oh, Kita-san,” you laughed sheepishly. You could’ve sworn there was a slight smile on his face but that was the least of your worries once you noticed he had two cups in his hand. 

“Here, I hope your finals went well,” he handed you the warm drink and you immediately knew it was chai tea. 

You stared at Kita as he drank his own drink, maneuvering through the shop. You noticed that for this shift, it was just the two of you working. You also noticed that Kita must have been here for a while, the floors were mopped, the teas and toppings were all prepped and ready, monitors had all the drinks, and he prepped both of you a drink. 

He must have gone out of his way to make your shift a little easier. As you drank your tea, the corners of your lips turned upwards ever so slightly. Kita may definitely seem cold at times, blunt even, but he truly looked out for others. 

“Hey, Kita-san,” you called out, walking towards the front where he was standing. He looked up, staring at you as he waited. “You wouldn’t happen to know why my landlord said I could pay my rent late with no fees, would you?” 

Kita hummed, returning his gaze out the window where people were walking and took a sip of his drink. 

“No,” he replied. An uncharastic smirk made its way onto his face that you barely noticed as he took another sip. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. Staring down at the cup in your hands, your fingers playing with the cup sleeve, you struggled to find the right words only to resort for something simple. 

“Thank you.” 

Kita’s brown eyes glanced towards your figure, happy that you seem more well rested. He takes another sip from his cup before speaking up.

“You’re welcome.”

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢, 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗!

𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: okay hi again lmao. I guess this kinda exposes which anon i am and which college i go to WHOOPS LOL and iykyk lol (to anyone else reading that’s not ae ra). I was going to submit my atsumu one for the 4k writing challenge but I’ve gotta admit, I do not have a plot for his fic yet (as of the moment I’m writing this). And like I said before, I really enjoyed writing Kita’s sm that I wanted to use this one to submit for the writing challenge plus as i started i already had begun to write this in mind for the challenge. (i was also debating submitting Akaashi’s but then I realized I had posted that one already askdhkjf) 🥺🥺 though, this was definitely me being a bit more “risky” (?) since this is the first i’ve written for kita so I’m still trying to understand his character hnng. but i hope you enjoyed reading it! 👉👈 

I haven’t been able to write many things that are over like 3k lately so hopefully this short little fic suffices 🥺🥺 And I’ve only recently been motivated/inspired to write these boba fics, otherwise I would’ve done something else entirely! But it’s been a hot minute since I’ve done a writing challenge and I wanted to celebrate yours and i love love love writing challenges. 

Anywyayyayay, I’ve always enjoyed your writing but I really hope you’re taking your time to take care of yourself! Remember to write for you, get your sleep, eat and drink water (please don’t drink just milk tea omg), study hard, and uhhhhhhhhh make sure to relax!!

[moosoobi]

Confessions

In the night: Chapter 2

T.Jeff- Hamilton: the musical 

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

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

MC (aka Y/N’s) POV 

Modern au 

Word Count: 5.4k

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

This chapter will most likely answer many questions about chapter 1 

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

Disclaimers: 

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

photo not mine <3

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

-Now Playing: Broken Clocks by SZA-

Where to start… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was class, Cherie?” 

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

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

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

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

And so we begin to drive off  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oui.” 

---

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

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

“Hey, can I sit here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

...

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1 Message from Thomas

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

--- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you.” 

—-

At first, I thought nothing of it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have I ever done to deserve this chivalrous kindness? 

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

From a simple kiss, I suddenly crave more.

More than the unresolved sexual tension between Lafayette and I. 

More than I was ever granted the opportunity to. 

Maybe ‘more’ is what I deserve. 

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lafayette felt otherwise, yet respected my choice. 

He was the first to speak.

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

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N.”

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

The Notorious Sons of Liberty. 

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

How else do you think I pay for college? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

[events of chapter 1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—I-I know—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My lungs felt punctured under the pressure.

My arms felt like they could give out any second.

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

What a predicament I’ve gotten myself into. 

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

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

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

Crash! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

[events of chapter 1]

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

The sun hasn’t risen yet. 

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

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

54 notifications: 

12 calls from Lafayette 🥐

24 texts from Lafayette 🥐

1 text from Alexander 💡

3 calls from Mariah 💋

14 texts from Mariah 💋

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

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

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

Where I am? I ask myself

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

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

Panic once again rushed through my body. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dreamescapeswriting]

Jungkook X Reader ~ Pink Or Blue [Request]

A/n: I mention that Jungkook is 27 in this because it’s for the sake of the plot. Love you. Hope this okay to the lovely anon that requested it, it felt nice to write something that wasn’t just ansgt all the time, lmao.

>>> Word Count: 2,164

>>> Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

>>> Genre: ALL FLUFF!! Like I can’t believe I wrote something without angst guys!

ANYONE GOT ANY TIPS ON COMING UP WITH TITLES. I SUCK!!!

Namjoon was the one who came up with the idea and you went along with it, figuring it would be a cute way to reveal the gender to you and everyone else.

"Hear me out, we don't tell Jungkook the plan..." Taehyung said as you all sat around a big board meeting table, you smirked at Taehyung and then glanced at Namjoon for his thoughts and he nodded.

"Sounds good. I'll make sure we clear it all with the producers." Namjoon said looking at you with a smile, you couldn't but giggle and rub the small bump. You'd fallen pregnant after being married to Jungkook for four months and you were three months pregnant now.

"It'll be a good run episode and I'm sure the fans will love it." You said to Hoseok who was coming over to run his hand over your bump. They were all looking forward to you having the baby just as much as you and Jungkook, Namjoon smiled at you and left the room to go find the producers.

"You sure it'll work?" Yoongi questioned from across the table, you shrugged your shoulders taking the envelope off the table, away from Jimin's prying hands and put it into your handbag. Jimin was excited to learn about the gender and was determined to find out before everyone else but you made sure that you kept an extra close eye on him.

"You're mean." You poked your tongue out at him and got up from the chair, you were late to meet Jungkook upstairs and he was going to start wondering where everyone was and you didn't want to spoil the surprise.

(X) 

The day had come to film the episode and you were excited. You'd been left at home and Namjoon was planning most of it, with you calling every three seconds to make sure he remembered everything, no one blamed you though that boy would forget his head if it wasn't screwed on tight enough. But Hoseok reassured you that he would make sure everything was perfect for you, they didn't want you to stress out. That morning Hoseok had called you to reassure you everything was in place, and you had nothing to worry about except if Jungkook caught on, that was the only thing left to stress about but he was clueless so far.

"It's so fun that you get to come along today, like my own cheerleader." Jungkook chuckled as you sat in the car together on the way to the stadium that BigHit had rented out. They were filming a sports day like episode and that's how you were going to get away with the plan.

"I'll cheer you on all day baby." You giggled turning to look at him with a smile on your face. You'd never been great at lying to him so you were glad that the day had finally come and you would get to reveal what you'd been up to for the last two weeks with Namjoon.

"Only me though, none of the other boys." He said through a pout causing you to laugh, you'd always loved how childish he was when it came to competitions.

"Only you baby." You promised, kissing his nose and staring out of the window again, Jungkook going onto his phone to text the boys that you were almost there.

(X)

"Dul Set, Bangtan! Annyeonghaseyo Bangtan Sonyeondan Imnida." They all said at the cameras and you smiled from behind one of the cameramen, one of the producers coming over to you and handing you a bottle of water in silence. Over the years of dating Jungkook, you'd gotten to know everyone really well, and you got along with them as well so when they found out you a pregnant it was like a family member had told them they were expecting. Everyone was thrilled and couldn't wait, especially now you were surprising Jungkook.

"Today we're doing a sports day event, we have three games set up for us," Namjoon said into the camera, turning to Yoongi who was speaking next,

"First up with have a nerf war against one another." He turned to Hoseok who spoke next,

"Then we have a game of football." Taehyung was next and he smiled at the cameras,

"Lunchbreak."

"Then we move onto the last game, which will be a game of paintball," Jimin said to the camera, all of them turning to the main camera and explaining the rules of the first game. Laughing as each of them walked off to get their nerf guns and ammo and going to hiding spots around the arena, Namjoon passed you and patted you on the shoulder.

"Not long, I promise." He knew how on edge you were to find out the gender and Jimin had even dyed his hair pink for the occasion, convince you were going to have a baby girl. Taehyung had even text you that he was wearing blue underwear in support of having a nephew on the way, but Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi told you they didn't pick yet.

(X)

"You having fun?" You giggled as Jungkook jumped over to you, he nodded and helped you down from the chair. You were all on lunch break and Jungkook told you he was going to sit with you while you all ate,

"Tons, I feel so young again." You stared at him with a blank expression,

"Jungkook...You're 27! You are young." You grunted to him as you sat down on the floor in front of the table, Namjoon sliding you a drink of water and Yoongi handing you a plate of food. You stared between the boys and then at Jungkook who was blushing, all of them had been so caring towards you since you told them about the pregnancy. Treating you as though you were a family member, which they did before but it felt more real now.

"I'm pregnant, not stupid." You said reaching across the table for some spicey noodles and adding them onto your plate, each of them watching you as you scooped them into your mouth.

"Won't that hurt the baby?" Hoseok asked in a concerned tone turning to look at Jungkook who'd been reading from baby books as if there was a test coming up.

"Spicey foods are fine," You said with a mouthful of noodles making them laugh, but you were hungry. You'd skipped breakfast because you were nervous about the day, but now it was going on you didn't mind.

"Just drink this," Jungkook said sliding you a glass of milk and smiling at you, you sent him a smile back and everyone continued eating.

(X)

It was time for the last game which meant it was time for the gender reveal and by now everyone was on edge waiting to see what would happen. Yoongi had fixed the game to make sure Jungkook would go last, playing the game where they had to guess what was in the box, each member knowing what it was except for Jungkook of course.

"This game is simple, each member has to pop balloons above the other players," Jungkook explained into the camera and looking around at the other boys.

"But each member has three balloons and each has a colour hidden inside," Namjoon explained turning to look at you with a knowing smirk, all of the balloons were black, each filled with a small amount of paint,

"Purple is 100 points, Blue is 50 points and pink is 10," Yoongi said to the camera, looking over at the balloons that they were going to have to carry around with them.

"Since Jungkook lost he has to go last, but first up is Hoseok," Jimin said turning to the cameras and smirking. Hoseok came to stand next to you and took the gun you were holding for him. Each of the guns were loaded with nerf bullets that would hit the balloons and pop them on contact, spilling paint onto each member. You watched as the rest of the boys started running around the arena trying to hide away from Hoseok who was chasing after them like a madman, sending you into a fit of giggles just thinking back to the Christmas episode where Hoseok betrayed them all.

(x) 

Not that the points mattered by Yoongi was winning by 300 points and he was pretty excited about it, jumping around and laughing whenever the boys missed a shot. Jungkook came to stand next to you and smiled,

"I'll win for us Jagi." He promised, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and to get ready to shot the balloons above the boys. Everything was in place and you smiled at Namjoon who was giving you a thumbs up when Jungkook wasn't looking.

"Jungkook I thought you were good at everything." Taehyung teased as the maknae missed him for the sixth time in a row, he was doing really poorly for someone who played a lot of war games with Taehyung all the time. You giggled as he missed another shot.

"Right, line up against the wall boys," Yoongi said pulling everyone over to the back wall and waiting for Jungkook to get a clear shot.

"If you miss us there's something wrong," Hobi said to Jungkook who was standing right in front of them and still missing.

"Oh my god." You cried out looking at him, he sighed and then tried again. Popping one above Namjoon spilling out pink all over him and Yoongi who was standing too close to him.

Pink again all over Yoongi, then on Jimin. Jungkook looked like he was starting to get annoyed with just getting pink and shot the balloon over Tae which spilt out blue paint over him causing you to stand up and knock the chair over.

"Twins?!" You screamed out each of them looked at Tae with wide eyes, wondering what you were talking about but as soon as they saw they started cheering leaving Jungkook clueless. You walked over to him and took the gun from his hands, shooting the rest of the balloons over each member, each balloon spilling out pink and blue paint.

"Twins." You repeated in shock starting to feel a little light-headed, Jungkook must not have been catching on to what was happening. A Staff member came over and helped you onto a chair, while the boys said their goodbyes to the camera. A still starstruck Jungkook was standing there.

"Jungkook...It was the gender reveal." Jimin said with a laugh, Jungkook's eyes snapped up around the room to find you and you smiled at him.

"Twins kookie...Twins!" You yelled at him, at first you were terrified but you were starting to get brighter with every passing second as it sunk in that you were going to have a boy and a girl to raise.

"I win the bet!" Tae and Jimin yelled in unison at each other, Namjoon shaking his head and coming over to you and Jungkook.

"If you ever need a baby sitter, you know where I am." You thanked him and Jungkook stared at your bump, placing his hand on top of it and running his thumb over it.

"Jungkook it's not an alien." You laughed as he looked terrified to be near you or touch you, but he was just worried that you were going to break if you moved too quickly.

"I need to get some more books, none of them mentioned twins." He groaned coming behind you and rubbing your shoulders, you giggled at him and he shook his head. His eyes still wide and you could only imagine the amount of JungShook memes that were going to be around once the episode would air for everyone to see.

"You should go and shower." You mentioned but he was shaking his head,

"I'll take you home, shower and then go book shopping." You giggled as he helped you down from the chair, making sure no one was in your way as you walked towards the exit of the building.

"You're an idiot Kookie, I'm not a huge boulder."  He laughed along with you, knowing better than to make a fat joke because last time he had to sleep on the sofa and he wasn't about to do that again.

"You're okay though, right Kookie?" You questioned worriedly since he hadn't really said anything, but he was nodding. A giant smile on his face as he helped you into the back of the SUV, getting in next to you.

"I'm more than okay, we're going to have twins." You giggled at his expression and he smiled brightly, wanting to tweet it out for the world to know but you told him the producers said not to say anything until the episode aired. It was going to be hard keeping Jungkook and Jimin's mouths shut but it was going to be fun watching them teasing Army with small tiny hints, hoping one of them noticed and put theories together.

(X) 

Tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @yourguessisasgoodasminemate​ @snowy-meowl​ @ficdump101​ @babymochichimmy​ @lynnthevirgo​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @lyoongx​