#in my au she gets turned into glue sorry/j

[midnightn0ir]

HORSE.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 7

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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[Ron]

"How about right here?" asks Ron, gesturing to a small high-top table tucked away in a private corner of the bar. It looks the same as it did this morning, but it feels different. The turn of the evening has revived the chatter, and the patrons have polished their wardrobes, giving the atmosphere an air of evening excitement rather than morning regret.

"Oh. Yeah, this is fine." Hermione glances around as though looking for another, more public option. Even though certain events this afternoon showed them that being visible doesn't exactly present an obstacle to… things. Just reflecting on those events makes Ron's head spin.

"Great!" he says. "What's your poison?"

"My poison?"

"What do you want to drink? On me," he clarifies. His mind can't help but repeat and rephrase some of those words. Drink on me. The image of Hermione lying flat on a bar table turns his ears pink, and it takes immense effort to divert his eyes from her low-cut dress, which displays just enough cleavage to hold a shot of liquid.

"I'll just have some water." Disappointing.

"C'mon, we're in Vegas," he presses. "Live a little."

"Fine," she says with an eye roll. "Gin and tonic, then."

"I know you can be fun, you married me after all," he says with an air of playful smugness.

Hermione shakes her head. "I still can't believe we don't remember that."

Ron's been wracking his mind to remember anything from last night. He has no photos on his phone to spark memories, no friends for witnesses, only an ominous piece of paper stating the finality of their marriage. He's desperate to see some evidence that it's all real.

"How did you find out?" he says as he waves down the waiter to order their drinks.

"What do you mean?" asks Hermione.

"How did you know we were married? You didn't know when we woke up this morning," he smiles at the approaching waiter. "Two gin and tonics, please."

"No straws," adds Hermione, earning a groan from Ron.

"Two gin and tonics, no straws," repeats the waiter.

Hermione smiles smugly, and he's suddenly reminded of their first conversation, and how annoying her holier-than-thou attitude was. "Actually, I'll have a straw."

The waiter returns a stiff smile. "Great!"

"And food too," says Ron. "How about an appetizer plate to share?" He directs his question to Hermione who shrugs, although reluctantly.

"Coming right up."

"Really?" says Hermione when the waiter turns away. "You're still on this straw thing?"

"You're the one that's 'on a straw thing,'" he says, forming quotation marks with his fingers.

"Do you even know how many sea creatures die because they've swallowed too much plastic?" Her cheeks flush, and her eyes sparkle at her indignation. She's quite cute when she's passionate.

Ron makes a note to bring up the straw thing later, but otherwise ignores her question to repeat his own. "How did you know we were married?"

Hermione opens her mouth to argue, but decides to answer him instead.

"Someone at the bar let it slip. I was ordering drinks, and a woman came up to me and congratulated me."

"Really? Who was it?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know. I figured she mistook me for someone else, so that's what I told her. Then she showed me a photo of us."

"That must have been—"

"Hold on!" she says abruptly, her eyes narrowing at him.

"What?"

"How did you know?"

"Sorry?" he asks innocently, but Hermione seems to see right through his tone.

"Ron, did you know we were married the morning we woke up… together?"

Ron opens his mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. He hasn't thought about how to answer that question.

"Ron!"

He sighs. Honesty is probably the best policy here. "Okay, I knew about it that morning. I found our wedding certificate right before you woke up. I didn't get a chance to bring it up."

Her cheeks flush red again. "You didn't get a chance?"

"No—"

"Oh, you had a chance," she says, rolling her eyes. "We talked about sleeping together, and you didn't think to mention it?"

"No, I didn't," he begins, his tone defensive. "I hadn't even processed it myself. And you seemed quite upset. I didn't want to add insult to injury."

"You should have told me," she says, leaning back and folding her arms across her body.

"I know."

Their awkward silence is interrupted by the delivery of their drinks and appetizers. The waiter places a plate of towering nachos, pita-bread, artichoke dip and mozzarella sticks precariously balanced in the shape of a castle. Ron takes a swig of his gin and tonic through the straw, and it makes a loud slurping noise that results in a pointed scowl from Hermione.

"700," says Hermione.

"What?"

"That's the number of marine species in danger of extinction due to plastic—"

"Oh shut it," he says, and once again, the two descend into an awkward silence. Ron wonders if his commitment to the straw is the best way to rile her up. Probably not. "Do you have the photo?" he tries instead.

"Yeah, I have it," she answers, but doesn't reach for her phone to show him.

"Is there some reason you don't want me to see?"

She shrugs. "No, there's not. At least not anymore." Hermione pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and scrolls through a few images before landing on one in particular. Ron finds himself peering at her screen, curious if a glimpse of her camera roll might reveal more information about her life than she'd reveal upfront. He can't help but be curious.

She finally flips the camera to show him the photo, and all he can say is, "Wow."

In the photo, he's lifting her up as if carrying her over a threshold. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, and their lips are pressed together in a passionate kiss, not unlike the one they just experienced on the bridge. They look comfortable with each other — his hand is pretty high on her thigh, and her skin is indented where his fingers press. Naturally, his eyes float across the table to her crossed legs, visible under the hem of her short, blue sundress. It's the dress that Lavender hates, and for a good reason — it makes Hermione look hotter than the Las Vegas desert.

"Wow is right," she says, and he can tell by the playful tone of her voice that her eyes have followed his, and she knows he's gawking at her. She doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you," he says, keeping his focus on her dress. "That probably wasn't the best way to find out."

"It was shocking, that's for sure," she says, her words intoned with a smile that he doesn't see.

"Okay, another question for you, Granger. Why didn't you tell me?" Even though she hasn't protested, he still feels like he's been looking at her legs for too long, so he moves his gaze back up to her face, reluctantly passing over her chest. He wouldn't want her to feel objectified… but damn, she looks good.

"What do you mean? You already knew!"

He scoffs. He'd much rather flirt than argue, but he'll take whatever interaction he can get, anything that might lead to another kiss like the one on the bridge. She seems to like arguing, and honestly, he'd love to indulge her. "Yeah, I did. But you didn't know that I knew!"

She looks away, and much to Ron's dismay, uncrosses her legs. He glues his gaze to her face, reminding himself that it would be really bad to look down now.

"You can't get angry at me for not telling you, not when you didn't either."

"I was going to tell you—"

"When?"

"After confirming it!"

Ron gestures to their photo, a smirk on his face. "This is pretty… confirming."

"Yeah, it is," she says, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"So let me get this straight," he says, leaning toward her and resting his elbows on the table. "When you found out, instead of telling me, you decided to go to Erised Elopements to confirm it?"

"Yes," she says simply, mimicking Ron and placing her elbows on the table, daring his gaze to travel south.

He keeps his eyes glued to hers, and her adorable scowl brings a smile to Ron's face. "You know, Hermione, if we're going to make this marriage work, then these double standards will have to go." He plucks a nacho from the appetizer plate between them.

She lets out a laugh before stopping herself abruptly. Ron's smile grows, knowing an accidental laugh is a genuine one. Her eyes gloss over his lips before pointedly looking away, and Ron considers bringing up the kiss. He tries to conjure up the courage, which only extends the awkward silence between them.

"Make this work?"

He shrugs. "Well, yeah."

"Ron, we're not really married." She's looking at him like he's a delusional five-year-old who needs reminding that the story in a picture book isn't real.

It frustrates him and motivates him to antagonize her in the same way seeing a cute puppy makes him want to aggressively squeeze it. Honestly, if anyone's deluded, it's her. "Ha. Yeah, Hermione, we definitely are."

"But surely, you don't want to stay married," she says, and her words should be a question, but they play out as a definitive statement.

"Do you want to stay married?" he asks.

"I asked you first."

No, you didn't. "Well… I'm not about to marry someone else, so there's no reason to get a divorce at the moment."

She gapes at him, unable to formulate an answer.

"Do you have a fiance I don't know about?"

"No, I don't have a fiance," she says indignantly.

"A boyfriend?"

"No boyfriend either."

Ron relaxes in relief. "Then we can stay married for now. I see no problem."

"You don't even know me." She picks at the plate between them, and their hands brush, sending a flutter directly to Ron's stomach. His palms break out in sweat.

It's true, he doesn't really know her, but not a lot of women make his palms sweat like this.

"Then tell me about yourself," he asks.

She's looking at him both with incredulity and caution. Her tone is softer, almost vulnerable when she speaks next. "This isn't some ploy to make Lavender jealous?"

"Who?" They might be joking about a lot of things, but he wants her to know he's serious about being over Lavender.

Hermione rolls her eyes, but the rosy tint of her cheeks and soft smile betrays her attempt to appear annoyed at him.

"I'm serious," he says as sincerely as possible. "I'd love to get to know you."

She considers him for a moment, her eyebrows raised. "So your plan is to stay married due to convenience?" She plucks a mozzarella stick from the plate and takes a bite, and Ron can't control his gaze from drifting to her mouth.

"Sure. Kind of the opposite of friends with benefits." They haven't discussed benefits yet, but maybe she'd be open to another kiss. Perhaps more than another kiss, but he doesn't want to push his luck.

"Right. Just the paperwork, no benefits," she says, leaning back and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her arms push against her body in all the right ways, and he feels his gaze drifting even further...

"Exactly. No benefits." He's suddenly looking at her chest — how did that happen? She keeps her arms crossed gently below her breasts; she has to know she's affording him quite the view. His face is heating up quickly, and he wonders if she's amused by it. When he looks up, she's smirking at him. Tease.

"Twenty questions," she says, drawing his gaze back up to her eyes.

"Twenty questions?"

"Yep." She plucks another mozzarella stick from their shared plate, and her eyes roll back when she takes a bite.

He should make sure to remember how much she likes those.

"You said you want to get to know each other, so go ahead," she says. "Let's ask each other twenty questions."

"Why just twenty?" he asks.

"Is that one of your twenty?"

He laughs. "No."

"I am curious what questions you'll ask. It tells a lot about a person."

The pressure's on.

"You start then," he says, challenging her with his eyes.

She shrugs. "So that kiss," she says, her eyebrows raising, before falling quiet.

He shakes his head. "That's not a question. What about it?"

She smiles and continues. "It... got kind of intense."

He narrows her eyes at her. "Still not a question."

"Was it intense for you?" she asks softly. Her hand swipes by his on its way to retrieve another mozzarella stick.

He nods. "It was."

"Did it feel real to you?" she asks back.

"Hey, it's my turn for a question," he says with a smile, and Ron's beginning to enjoy the rhythm of their banter.

"Fine," she says. "Ask away."

"Were you acting?

She looks him in the eyes and shakes her head. "It felt like a real kiss."

"Felt like?"

"It was a real kiss."

He's tempted to kiss her again, right here in the bar, but he hasn't scanned his surroundings to assess whether anyone else from the wedding party is present. Although he wouldn't mind being seen snogging her — fuck, he wants to do so much more than snog her — he should at least spare her the embarrassment.

Summoning his courage, he asks, "Would you want to kiss me again?" His gaze follows her drink as she presses the glass to her lips.

She'd probably be horrified to know where Ron's imagination's traveling. He wants to kiss her again, sure, but more specifically, he wants to get drunk from the alcohol on her lips. If only he could reach out and tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her face to his. He'd open his mouth and let her explore him with her tongue while his free hand cupped her perfect tits over her dress.

If he had more flair for the dramatic, he'd clear their drinks from the table with one fell swoop of his arm — they'd crash to the floor and break, but he wouldn't care. He'd lift her onto the table and run his hand down her body while her legs wrapped around him, pulling his hardened erection right up against the heat of her knickers.

They'd probably get kicked out of the bar for such a display, but he could do so much more to her in his hotel room anyway. Back in his room, he'd one-up his drunken self by improving upon whatever they had done the night before. He was a very generous lover when he wasn't completely pissed, and he wanted more than anything to undress her, memorize her perfect body, and find out what made her tick — find out how many times he could make her tick in one night. Maybe he could set a new record.

"It's my turn to ask," she reminds him.

Suddenly aware of his public location, his growing erection, and Hermione's amused smirk, he forces himself out of the lustful fog and back into the present.

"Then ask."

"I have the same question. Would you like to kiss me again?"

He smiles. "Yes."

"Me too," she says, almost a whisper. Ron has to lean forward to hear her, which suggests her quiet tone is intentional. "It's too bad we aren't trying to convince anyone here that we're married."

Ron takes a deep breath before responding, "I'm sure someone needs convincing..."

"I'm sure they do," she says, leaning even closer, affording Ron another delightful view into her dress — one that really doesn't help him with the growing constriction in his shorts.

But unfortunately, the tent in his pants deflates when he hears a familiar sound — one of heels clacking toward him from across the bar. He groans and pulls away from Hermione at the last moment, wishing he didn't see the look of disappointment on her face.

"Won Won! There you are!"

Ron groans. "Hi, Lavender."

"Oh hi, Hermione," chirps Lavender. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Lavender," says Hermione.

Lavender seems to ignore her and slips an arm around Ron, who stiffens under her touch. "I missed you. I've been looking for you for hours."

"Well, I've been busy," he glances at Hermione as he speaks; she's observing their interaction closely with curiosity on her face.

"Are you stressed? I can help with that," she says, boldly taking a seat on Ron's lap and threading her fingers through his hair. Her lips were dangerously close to his face.

"Lav—"

"Hermione," interrupts Lavender. "Ginny has something she wants to talk to you about. Some wedding thing. You can find her in her hotel room."

Hermione narrows her eyes at Lavender, who simply smiles sweetly at her. With an eye-roll, Hermione finishes off her drink and stands. "Well, I'll talk to you later, Ron."

"Yeah, uh, sounds good."

Ron watches Hermione walk away — and how glorious it is — but Lavender must notice his attention drifting because she shifts her position to block her from view.

"We need to chat, Ron."

"What was that about, Lavender?" He pulls her hand away from his hair. She looks upset, which is fine by him, because he's upset too.

"What?" she asks, rising to her feet. Her arms form a protective barrier across her body, and she scowls at him.

"Sitting on my lap, touching me, how many times do I have to tell you that it's over between us?" Her attempt to intimidate Ron doesn't faze him, who's become immune to her power grabs over the years.

"Ron! It doesn't matter, it's not like you're really on the prowl this week. Not with all of your best man duties."

With a groan, Ron throws back the rest of his drink before slapping the glass back onto the table. The sound makes Lavender flinch. "You're right, I'm not. That doesn't mean I want your hands all over me." He stands and brushes past Lavender toward the bar exit.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room. Don't follow me!" He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of looking back at her, but he can hear the clicking of her heels pursuing closely behind him.

"RON!" Her shriek causes the bar to quiet down, and people are suddenly staring.

To avoid looking like a total arsehole, he turns to face her. "What?"

The look on her face catches him off-guard. She's dropped her arms to her side, and her expression has softened. She looks sad. Hurt. And rather than kindling Ron's anger, it makes him feel guilty.

"You broke up with me promising we'd be friends, and now you hardly talk to me. I just want to talk about it."

Her eyes start to water, and Ron realizes his attempts to avoid looking like an arsehole have failed. He's not just looking like one, he's being one.

"Okay," he says in as sympathetic a tone as he can muster. "Let's talk."

[thegreyj]

Hi, I saw you were writing rowaelin so I thought I’d send in a prompt. “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” But make it end well if you can, put it in multiple parts if you have to. I’ll give you another prompt for the end, you don’t have to use it. “You’re the only thing that matters.” Thanks! You don’t have to, but if you’re bored and want something to do.

Disclaimer: the characters mentioned do not belong to me, unfortunately. But they are the creation of one amazing Sarah J Maas.

Modern AU, angst/romance Rowaelin

**

Let’s hurt tonight

It was eerie in the park. The wind was whispering quiet nothings into the ear of the dark, hooded figure slumped on a park bench, the only movement came from the rustling leaves. It was so quiet; you could almost hear everything from the other side of the park. Not even the dog was moving or making a sound, probably in a deep sleep right by the figure’s feet.

The figure was simply holding the dog’s leash and sitting on the bench staring at the ground in front of where they were sat. Time went by, the only measurement for it was the moon moving around in the sky and finally the sun coming up from behind the horizon. When the sun cast the first rays of daylight, the figure slowly began moving. First raising the gaze up toward the rising sun, then getting up from the bench.

You could now see the beautiful golden hair from under the hood, and the sad, empty turquoise eyes. If you watched carefully, you could see a glimpse of gold in the eyes too, but it was barely there. Something had taken the embers out of the gaze.

“Is it only me, Fleetfoot, who ends up in these situations? Nobody seems to stick around enough to love me, but somehow, I end up more broken after each time someone leaves me. I try not to get attached, I truly try not to love, but it’s nearly impossible. He made it impossible to not care. So I cared, a lot. I cared so much it hurts to think about it now. Tell me why, Fleetfoot. Why me?” The golden-haired figure, Aelin, was talking quietly to her dog. The pup now wide awake, but whimpering slightly, as if she felt the emotions of her owner.

“Of course I still have you. It’s now you and me against the world, girl. We don’t need anyone else, right? Right?” She sighed as the memory of the previous night flashed in her mind again.

*

Flashback

Aelin was looking herself over in the mirror giving herself a pep talk. To the outside world she was the most confident and brave woman, but inside her head she was a broken girl trying to glue herself back together. The best part, she had found someone to help her heal – she was already healing just by being with the most gorgeous male alive. Rowan. Just thinking about him made her giggle. She was in love, and she was about to tell that to him. They had a date night set up.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Aelin jumped up, ran a hand through her hair one last time and wiped some invisible hair off her jeans. Then she went to open the door. Rowan, with his glorious silver hair hanging on his forehead and with the most amazing smile on his face was standing behind the door, and when she opened it up, the smiles on both their faces got brighter, if possible.

They just stood there staring at each other, when suddenly Aelin realised they were still at the door, and she laughed quietly and moved so Rowan could step in.

They had eaten dinner and were currently cuddling on the couch together, when Aelin drew a breath. Then blew it out. Drew another breath and turned around to face Rowan.

“Rowan, I- oh god I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous,” she whispered, before starting again. “I have something to tell you, and I- it’s something I’ve been thinking for a while.”

Rowan was now focused on Aelin with a confused but curious face. She just smiled that bright smile of hers and wrangled her hands together until she was feeling confident enough to continue.

“I know you’ve been through a lot and I have too, but this is something I am definitely sure about. I’ve never been this happy, than I am with you, and I think- no, I know it’s because… Because I’m in love with you,” she finally burst out, closing her eyes not wanting to see his reaction.

Rowan stiffened. She could feel his taut body next to her, yet she couldn’t find the courage to open her eyes. But he had something to say.

“Aelin, I- I thought we both had a clear picture of what this was going to be before we entered this relationship. I just- I can’t let myself love again, not after….” Rowan got quiet.

“Lyria,” Aelin whispered. Rowan just made an agreeing sound.

“It’s not like I haven’t loved and lost too, you know. But I did still somehow manage to fall for you. But let me just ask you one thing. About our relationship these past months. Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” Aelin’s voice got quiet and meek, which was something she never was. She was as bright as the sun and as loud as a thunderstorm, but not now. She was almost cowering in fear of getting hurt again.

And she did get hurt. Rowan slowly stood up, with pain on his face and he just walked away from Aelin, from the apartment with a quiet whisper of apology, which Aelin ignored as she tried her best to hold her tears in. She would not break, not in front of him.

When she heard the door close behind him, that’s the moment you could hear the glue betraying her and her breaking into even smaller pieces.

End of flashback

*

If Aelin was honest, she had no recollection as to how she had ended up in the park. Nor had she any idea when she had picked up Fleetfoot’s leash. She had no idea how long she had actually sat on the park bench, but truth be spoken, she didn’t even care. Instead, the golden-haired female just sat back down again and told Fleetfoot she could leave her too, if the dog so wished. But the loyal pup just snuggled her nose to her owner’s hand and whimpered a little. She was sad, because Aelin was not as bright as she usually was, but Fleetfoot did not know how to help.

Not until the dog heard a familiar cadence of steps. She knew those steps; they had been her companion in the early mornings when her owner had been too tired to get up for a walk. Those steps belonged to the silver-haired male who made her owner smile so brightly. Fleetfoot’s tail wagged slightly as the steps came closer.

“Aelin, thank god!” the relief in the voice was apparent, but Aelin barely noticed. She had returned to her favorite task of staring at the ground. “I’ve been looking for you for hours!”

But she didn’t respond, not as she was so deep in her thoughts. Rowan, however, had apparently had a change of heart and was now determined to get Aelin to respond.

“I was wrong, you know. I do love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone and that scared the crap out of me, so I just... left. And it was so wrong to do. And I’m so sorry that I broke you apart yet again when the only thing I wanted to do was help you heal,” Rowan was now begging on his knees, trying to get any reaction from the woman in front of her.

“I went back. I went back to your place almost immediately, but you were gone as I arrived, didn’t answer the door or your phone. So I started looking for you, I searched everywhere, asked everyone and no one had heard from you. Then I decided to go for a run to clear my head and… when the first rays of sun hit, they were like a spotlight and I somehow knew I had to follow them. And I was right. Because you are my sun and I don’t think I can live without you. And I am sorry, I truly am. Aelin, please.” Rowan grabbed her hand in his.

“I was too blind to realise it, but Aelin, Fireheart… You’re the only thing that matters,” he said and lowered his eyes letting the tears fall. Then he felt it. Her fingers slowly clasped his and his eyes gazed hers. Smiling, Rowan repeated himself and saw the smile graze Aelin’s beautiful face. A smile that lit up his world.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

**

A/N: So this is it, a response to my very first prompt! Be gentle, I haven’t written anything in years, or at least published anything. This is actually quite nerve-wracking, if I’m honest, just opening my imagination to the world like this. 

[fictivewriters]

N e r v e

→ pairing: Jungkook x FemReader 

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ au: JungkookCEO!

→ word count: +3.7k

→ request: ❝ hey may I request a ceo!jungkook x fem!reader semi-fluff where the reader is his new secretary and he acts nervous and shy around her, and it leads to eventual smut? thank you! :) ❞

→ summary: Jeon Jungkook was good at bussiness, but not with women. His best friend knew that and decided to give him a hand - hiring you as his new secretary. 

“Excuse me, who are you?” “I’m Y/N. Your new secretary, Sir.” He examined you from head to toe and gulped. Was this some kind of joke? After the old Mrs. Choi (who made an excellent job despite her age) retired, he asked for a new secretary to the Human Resources Department from the company. He expected a younger woman, but not that younger and certainly not that pretty. You were sitting on your new desk, in front of his office door. A forced smile was carved on your lips, desperately waiting for his approval. His eyes travelled from yours, to the curve of your lips, to your neatly tied hair, your collar bones under your white blouse and... Embarrassed, he muttered a “This can’t be,” to himself and entered his office before slamming the door shut. His feet rushed towards his desk, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he pressed the numbers on the phone. “Humaan Resouurceees?” a voice sang from the other end of the line. “Park Jimin, who is Y/N?” Jimin’s laughter sounded like music, and after all those years as best friends, Jungkook could imagine him two floors below him: the blonde man pressing his back against his seat and a mischievous smirk decorating his features. “Your new secretary, Boss.”

“I can’t work with her, you know that. I thought you said you would call a woman from-”

“Just because you don’t speak to pretty women, does not mean you can’t. I’m giving you a helping hand as my boss and friend. She’s amazing! She worked for another company before, with very good references I shall say, and she’s a business student.”  He didn’t doubt your skills, he doubted his own. As Jimin knew, he could not talk to a woman properly, not even when he was the company’s CEO and you were just an employee. “This is not a game Jimin, it’s the job!” “I did my job, I interviewed her and she passed. Then let her do her job, give her a chance.”

He could not fire you just because you made him nervous, right? He kept that in mind every time he saw you at your desk, talking on the phone - or every time you knocked at his door and entered the office carrying folders, the agenda or just a cup of coffee. Weeks passed and it was getting worse. Could you not notice how he played with his fingers each time you were around? How he only gave you short answers? Or you did notice but you kept doing things on purpose? Things like that time, when some pages fell from your folder and the both of you squatted and tried to pick up all of them - your hand brushed his for a moment. Your skin was so soft and warm that it took a while for him to pull away his hand from yours and stand up straight.   

He turned around, hiding his blushed cheeks in embarrassment. Everytime the clock marked 8 PM a sigh of relief escaped from his mouth: it signaled the end of the day, therefore the end of the torture called Y/N. “Hey Boss, you looked troubled.” Jimin mocked him, leaning against his office’s door. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, grabbing his briefcase after loosening his tie, “It’s all your fault. I should fire you instead of her.”

“You wouldn’t fire your best friend,” the blonde pouted. The two men wearing suits walked side by side towards the elevator, “and she’s making a good job despite your little problem.” The brown haired pressed a button on the wall and the elevator’s doors opened, revealing that it was completely empty. “She’s good,” he agreed. As always, Jimin and him were the last ones in the building and he glanced quickly at the empty department full of desks before the doors closed and they went down. “If she wasn’t good I would have a reason to fire her, but I don’t.” They were discussing some points for the meeting they had next week with KimCorp, when they exited the building through the glass door and met the cold air of the night. As always, Jungkook intended to give Jimin a lift to his house, but the short man shushed him and pointed his finger at something standing on the sidewalk.

Someone. You. You were rubbing your hands against your eyes, your usually perfect ponytail was messy and they could see your bare legs shivering because of the cold.

You didn’t see them when Jimin squeezed his boss’ arm and said, “You better go and offer her your help.” “What!? You go!” Jungkook snapped, turning his back on you and taking quick steps towards his car, where his driver was waiting for them. 

“Hey, no! Wait.” Jimin grabbed him by the shoulders and stared right into his eyes, “Remember that time in high school? When you wanted to talk to this chick, standing alone at prom night?”

“Are you seriously comparing this-”

“I am. I convinced you to talk to her and boom - you had your first kiss. Back then you were the cute son of an important CEO. Now you are a handsome man who IS the CEO. And that, my friend” he glanced at you, “is a girl freezing to death, probably crying and who happens to be your pretty hot secretary. Thanks to me by the way.” Jungkook turned to your direction, the words of his best friend echoing in his head. He licked his lips and nervously ran a hand through his brown hair, giving Jimin a final determined look before walking towards you. Each step he took, he wanted to turn around and run to the car. But at the same time, when your face turned and you finally noticed him, he knew there was no turning back. Your eyes were watery and your lips were puffy as they parted when he finally reached you: “Sir?” “Are you ok, Y/N?”

He congratulated himself for being so smart, of course things were not okay. He tapped his feet on the ground, trying to shake the nervousness out from his body and added, “Can I help you?” “Oh no Sir, I’ll just go home now - I should take a cab.” You swiped the tears from your face with the back of your hand and offered him a fake smile. Jungkook looked for Jimin behind him, but he was not there anymore. His eyes scanned the empty street and the (his) building reflecting the moonlight on its glass windows. “It’s late.” he said, “And you’re cold. Let me take you home.”

You shook your head and took a step away from him, “I can make it home by myself.” “I insist, Y/N.” You examined his face under the poor light for a moment before glueing your gaze to your black shoes, “Please don’t.” you murmured, quickly adding a ‘Sir’ to the phrase. “But thank you for the offer.”

“If this is because I’m your bo-” “My boyfriend and I just broke up, and I just need a moment alone.” You had a boyfriend? Of course you had. He frowned. “I’m sorry,” he lied. “It’s ok.” “Let me just take you home so I can be sure that you’re safe.” When you looked up at him again, he was waiting for your response with his lips pressed into a thin line. His big dark eyes had a silent plea written on them, and you knew you had no other choice but to accept his help.

As the two of you sit on the back of the expensive car, you both took the same decision: sitting as far from the other as possible. Even though you were far from him, he could still smell your perfume as it spread inside his car, and he subconsciously wished it stayed forever. The city lights reflected different colours on your side profile, as his driver followed the gps instructions, being its voice the only sound filling the small space. Jungkook kept his sight fixed on his hands, sweating on his thighs. How can a situation turn out so awkward? Awkward situations were in fact, Jungkook’s specialty since he was a kid and that did not change in his adult life.   So when you got out of the car once it stopped in front of your house, he was not surprised when you muttered a quick “Thank you, Sir.” and rushed inside the building.

He could not help but notice, the next day, the way you sleepily entered his office. Your clothes and hair were as neat and clean as always, but your tired eyes gave you away. 

“KimCorp’s vice president called Sir.” you announced, placing a portfolio on his desk. “He wanted to make sure this was in your hands before the meeting next week.” Oh yes, the meeting. He glanced at the file and then at you again, as you continued counting the dates on his schedule. “A state worker is coming tomorrow and Mr. Park is working on the monthly balance and taxes. He wanted you to have this too.”  You handed him a tiny folded paper, that looked like a green post-it. Jungkook took it, and rolled his eyes when he read the message in Jimin’s handwriting: “Tell me that you kissed her at least. ^.^” He turned the paper into a ball and tossed it inside the trash can. “Is there something else?” “No, Sir.” “You can leave then. And please, I don’t want to take any calls.”  Your back was facing him while you walked to the door again, but suddenly you stopped. “Sir, I haven’t thank you properly for yesterday. I’m…” He watched you turn around slowly, fixing your pencil skirt with your hands and hesitantly taking a few steps towards his desk. “I’m really thankful for this opportunity, this is a very important company - and honestly after my interview with Mr. Park I never thought I could work here, but here I am.” Your eyes met the floor again as you continued, “And yesterday you were very kind to me, and helped me even when you didn’t have to, so thank you, Sir.” You blushed. Wait. You blushed?

Jungkook squinted his eyes and tried to examine your face better. You did blush, even though you tried to hide it by looking down. “What kind of man would I be if I let a girl like you alone when it’s dark and cold?”   Your face slowly raised with a confused expression plastered on your features, “A girl like me, Sir?” Now he was embarrassed. Was he your boss or was he a high school boy with a crush on you? He could not tell the difference anymore. Licking his lips, he nervously fixed the front of his suit as he adjusted himself on his seat, “I mean… you know.”

You frowned, encouraged enough to get closer to him. “I know?” He wanted to be swallowed by his chair, his eyes opened widely as he tried to explain himself, “A young woman.” “Oh.” You sighed in some sort of relief. “Yes.” He gulped, as you silently made your way out of his office and left him alone. After calming himself down, he shook his head and opened the portfolio resting on his desk in an attempt to distract his attention from you - scanning quickly the list of names, numbers and percentages KimCorp had listed for him.

That same list was being read by Kim Namjoon a week later, inside the meeting room in front of an audience of men dressed in suits and sitting around a big rectangular table. Jimin as Chief Human Resources Officer, was sitting on his right - nodding his head from time to time and taking some notes on his laptop. By his other side on the left, Kim Seokjin held the same portfolio Jungkook had, since he was KimCorp’s CEO and fellow associate. You entered the room right then, carrying a plate with cups full of coffee on it. As you placed a cup on the table in front of each member of the meeting, Jungkook's eyes travelled from Namjoon to you while you took tiny steps towards the end of the table where he was sitting.

He held his breath while you slightly leaned your torso over the table and carefully placed a cup in front of Seokjin.

Finally, it was his turn and he watched you held the last cup from the plate and place it in front of him.

Well, tried.

Your grip on the cup failed and as it fell - coffee splashed on Jungkook’s suit and shirt making him jump from his seat at the feeling of the hot liquid against his skin. He heard your apologies but did not say a thing while he was rushing outside the room, looking for the nearest bathroom. You followed him, a tragic expression plastered on your face as he took off the jacket of his suit and closed the bathroom door. “Let me help you Sir, I’m so sorry.” Still, no word left his mouth and he only watched you take a towel and dip it in cold water. “Does it burn? I’m so so so sorry.” you repeated.

You pressed the cold towel against the fabric of his shirt, right on his stomach. The coldness felt like paradise against his skin and he sighed - it felt so good he almost forgot he was in the bathroom, with his secretary, and that you were pressing a wet towel on his abs. “Shit.” he muttered under his breath before grabbing the towel from your hands and doing the work himself. He awkwardly stuttered when he tried to speak again, “I-I-I- I’ll handle this.” “Let me do it, It’s my fault. It will make you feel better.”

“Woman can't you stop?!” He snapped, “I can't even think when you're around, I’ll do it!”

Your lips parted and your eyes avoided his, trying to choose the right words to say. “I didn't know I was making you uncomfortable Sir, I should leave-”

He should not have said that, you were now walking backwards towards the door. The towel fell to the floor when Jeon Jungkook gathered the courage to take a step forward and press his lips to yours, preventing you to leave.

He felt the panic taking over him as he realised you were not responding to the kiss and you were just completely frozen on your spot: your arms falling motionless on your sides and your eyes wide open in surprise.

He pulled away, the color red covered his cheeks and his hand massaged the back of his neck - “I'm sorry I- God.” He squeezed his eyes shut as he lift up the towel from the floor and tossed it in the sink, “Please Y/N, forget-”

Your lips found his this time and he forgot what he was about to say, the pain on his skin, the meeting outside. Your fingers hesitantly touched his cheek, encouraged when he got even closer and erased any distance between you.

He stopped kissing you, giving a quick glance at your face before doing it again in slow and and soft movements. He hummed when your tongue traced a soft line on his lower lip, as you tilted your head to a side and deepened the kiss.

Could something taste sweeter than you? Your lips were something so new and unexpected, moving confidently as if you did not care who he was or where the two of you were.

“Is your burn ok?” you whispered.

He separated his face from yours and his eyes travelled to his stomach, where a big coffee stain ruined the whiteness of his shirt. “Y-yes.”

“Can I see?”

Would he step back now? You did not look as affected as he was, his hands were nervously gripping the edge of the sink now behind him - when he took a long sip of air and nodded, unable to speak.  

Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt and his toned muscles popped from beneath, clearly reddened on the area of his abs where the hot coffee fell.

You followed the lines of his front with one finger, from his collarbones and his chest to the lower half of his body. “I’m really sorry.”

You grabbed the cold towel again, and pressed it on his bare skin. Without the fabric of his shirt in the way, the coldness felt even better than before. You observed how his muscles tensed under it and his lip was caught between his teeth while you moved the towel lower on his stomach, brushing the leather of his belt. His eyes were glued to your face when you added more pressure to the touch and and accidental moan escaped from his mouth, “Oh God, you should s-stop that.” he panted, trying to keep his composure. He swore he saw your gaze get darker as you, (for the first time) ignored his orders and pressed the towel even harder and closer to his crotch, earning another one of his involuntary moans that echoed in the room. Jungkook could not feel the burn caused by the hot coffee anymore. Instead, the burning sensation was on his erection now, throbbing under the clothes. He knew you could notice it too, you were so close to it - so close, you just had to lower your hand a little more. His hips moved forward instinctively just because of the thought of it and even though he felt embarrassed by it - all the blood had left his cheeks and was now focused on the tip of his cock. You looked down at the tent beneath his pants before placing the towel on the counter and say “I can’t heal the burn I caused you but…” your tongue wetted your lips and you hooked your fingers around his belt, “Can I fix that for you, sir?” That was all he wanted you to do that exact moment, inside of that bathroom. He nodded multiple times and you quietly giggled at how desperately cute he looked. Your knees touched the floor as you rubbed your palm against his bulge and your eyes met his while your other hand unbuckled his black belt and unzipped his pants.    When you pulled them and his boxers down at once, his length sprung free. Its tip was almost as red as the burn on his stomach and you teasingly ran your thumb in circles around it - amazed by how his head fell back and he groaned. His hands grasped the edge of the counter behind him and he spread his legs wider enough for you to be comfortable between them. You grabbed the base of his cock and gave it quick squeeze, testing how hard it was before stroking him slowly. As your hand moved up and down building a steady pace, Jungkook’s lips parted - muttering something to himself in between low moans. You took that as an incentive to finally let your tongue swirl around him before running your lips all along its side and wrapping them around the tip. His breath hitched and his hips pushed him deeper in your mouth, taking him as far as you could without choking and massaging with your hand the part that could not fit inside. He watched your head bob up and down and hesitantly moved his hand to your hair, grabbing your ponytail softly. Your free hand squeezed his, motioning him to grip your hair tighter and you moaned around him when he did. “You’re so good, so, so, good” he repeated breathlessly as you sucked hard on his head and looked up at him, taking in the view of your sweaty boss loosening the tie around his neck with two fingers while he guided your pace with the other hand. Jungkook pushed himself a little further, feeling you so tight around him when his tip reached your throat and you choked on him. He pulled out, making sure you were okay before pressing his cock against your lips again and entering your mouth when they parted. In no time he was thrusting into you, so desperate to reach his release that he totally forgot about his shyness right then while he was fuckin’ your mouth. His swallowed hard when he felt that tickle in his stomach - those electricity waves running through his veins as his grip on your hair felt so tight you whined in pain. “I’m going to cum, fuck.” he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut before he actually did, filling you with his warm cum, salty on your tongue. You swallowed as much as you could, wiping your mouth in an attempt to clean yourself once he pulled out and stared at you, fascinated by how you had not wasted one single drop. “Y/N,” he called you, “I want-” “There’s the meeting outside, Sir.” The meeting. His eyes opened in shock, helping you stand up and quickly fixing his clothes (or well, tried to fix his clothes) while he watched you tied your hair into your perfect ponytail again. 

He walked to the door but turned around before opening it, “I...I’ll go out first. You…” he faced you, “Come here.” You obeyed, getting closer enough for him to gently press his lips against yours, “You were amazing.” he whispered.   Once outside, he rushed towards the meeting room - only to find an empty meeting room.

Almost.

Park Jimin was still in his seat, his elbows resting on the table and his gaze focused on his phone. “What happened?” Jungkook examined the room with a frown on his face. The blonde looked up at him and placed his phone down. “Well, the meeting ended.” “Shit.” Jimin smirked, “Don’t worry, I handled it just fine with Seokjin’s help.” He stood and made his way to his boss, enjoying himself as he spoke again, “Now I want all the details, the dirty ones.” 

The brown haired laughed, relaxing his muscles as his friend tapped his hand on his shoulders and wiggled his brows. “I won’t tell you anything, it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh c’mon! You took ages inside that bathroom! You owe me, a lot.” Jungkook blushed, remembering what had just happened and fighting the silly smile carving on his lips. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

A/N: My first post here on FW, HELLO THERE. Hope you liked it ♥

✨Admin Galaxy

[charmingsego]

Bumbleby week!! Day 3:Au

I have a cute story I’ve been working on for sometime so I decided to add it for @bmblbweek​. I actually have the second chapter written and will upload it later!

The Both of Us

Edit: Chapter has been uploaded.

Fanfic  Chap.2

Chapter 1: Decisions

             “What you working on?” Yang said as she slowly approached Blake from the kitchen. She set down a set of matching cat cups on the counter and sat next to the girl.

“My Publisher wants me to write a children’s book.”  Blake reaches for the cup and the counter and takes a big sip, only to sigh after she set it down.

“Children’s book? That’s new, what’s it about?”

“Well the main character is a small girl who’s in love with flowers. I’m still working it out.”

Yang moves a little closer to Blake to wrap her arms around her bringing them closer. Blake immediately nuzzles into Yang’s neck enjoying the warmth that always surrounds her.

 “I’m sure you’ll get it. You always tough it out.” Yang paused, “But why a children’s book? I mean I think it’s great, but I don’t know you never seemed like the one to write for kids. Or even like them.” Yang whispered that last part hoping her girlfriend didn’t hear.

 Obviously Blake heard and she smiled at the girl, “I already write fiction, so simplifying it into something children would enjoy is a nice challenge.”  she lowered her gaze slightly adding,

 “And I do like children. Their innocence is adorable.”

“Right! Plus, the way they are totally honest when they are little is the cutest. Oh! That reminds me of this video I saw on YouTube recently, let me find it real quick.”

Yang pulled out her phone and typed in “kids say the darnest things” Blake set down her work and they watched videos for what felt like hours. They watched videos ranging from a baby's first word to children dancing to the latest songs and the couple just laughed; only when they heard the front door open did the two stop watching videos.

“Hey girls what’cha up to?” Taiyang asked as he came through the door with groceries.

“Just funny kid videos.” Yang replied getting up to help her father with the groceries.

“Oh yeah? Yang and Ruby were pretty funny as children too.”

“Oh really? Yang only told me a handful of stories, but they were always about Ruby.” Blake chimed in from her seat.

“Yang has always been a little fireball since she was little. When she got her first haircut she was so upset that she grabbed handfuls of her cut hair and put them in her pocket, and when we got home she begged me to glue it back on. I actually have a picture of her holding her hair, remind me to show it to you later.” Tai started to laugh recalling the memory of his eldest daughter.

“Dad that was not funny! I thought it would never grow back and don’t show Blake that picture it's horrible.”

 “Too bad! I’m still showing her the picture. What made you guys start watching baby videos? Are you guys expecting?” Tai’s face grew wider when she saw the two girls react to his comment. Even Though he knew it was a joke, he wouldn’t mind if it was true.

 “What Dad no! Blake’s writing a children’s book and it sorta let to the videos, I guess.” Yang took a small glance at Blake only to see the girl stuck in place with an expression Yang couldn’t figure out. “Besides we-we’ve never talked about it before.” she added more bashfully.

“Mhmm. A children’s book, well that is new.”

“My Publisher thought I should expand my writing and we both thought this would be a good challenge for me.” Blake answered after her initial shock was over, “Plus kids are honest critics unlike most people out there.”

“True, well I’m happy you’re expanding your horizons. Dinner will be ready in about an hour if you girls wanna eat.”

“Thanks Dad. Come on Blake let’s clean the living room and set up a movie. 

Blake nodded her head and began to pick up the papers she left on the couch and headed to the room she and Yang share. After graduating college, the two girls moved in with Tai, he offered them a place to stay while they both got use to the “adult” world. 

Yang graduated with a bachelor's degree in physical therapy, it took her a while to complete 2,000 hours of clinical practice, so staying with Tai made things easier for her. She recently got a job being Pyrrha Nikos personal physical therapist, normally it would have taken her awhile to get into this type of position, but due to her relationship with Pyrrha and her boyfriend Jaune she could start work easily. While being Pyrrha Nikos --famous boxer and occasional tennis player-- personal physical therapist is great; the boxer lives in Vale and the commute between Patch and there isn’t that hard but annoying so she is on call most of the time. When she isn’t helping Pyrrha she works at a small clinic where most of the patients are locals in the area.

Blake on the other hand had a harder time finding her place in the “adult” world. She got her Bachelor’s degree in English Literature, so she had many options to choose from. Her writing career started off rocky, she submitted short stories, poems, a couple of translations but she got nothing. It wasn’t until she met Coco Adel--her current publisher-- that her work started to take off. Now she writes fiction--and now children’s books-- under the name “Luna” and while Blake loves writing the income isn’t that great when she gets writers block, so she teaches at the local high school as main English teacher for seniors.

“Hey Blake, babe. Can we have a little talk?”

“Sure. What’s up?” Blake moves to sit next Yang as they talk. After cleaning up the blonde got very quiet and Blake was pretty sure she knew why.

“I-I was just thinking; you know wondering if you wanted to have a kid?” Blake knew this was coming, after watching those videos--not the first time they’ve done that--and her dad’s comment it was just up for discussion now.

“I knew you were going to say that, and my answer is, I don’t know Yang. I mean we’re only 25! Don’t you thi-”

“My dad had me 20! Age shouldn’t be a problem. He worked it out and we could too” Yang interrupted abruptly.

“I know. I j-just need some time to think it through.” 

“Yes. You’re right, I understand. Sorry for interrupting you.”

“It’s okay. Now come here.” Blake wrapped her arms around Yang’s waist and gave a chase kiss on her lips. Yang couldn’t help the goofy smile that appeared on her face, she brought their foreheads together and whispered, “I love you.”

Even though it was cliché Blake hated Mondays. Her morning class was just as dead as she was and the fact that she wasn’t in the best mood made the day even worse. After her talk with Yang she could tell her girlfriend's mood was different. It was too much to think about so Blake gave her class a few pages to read while she went to the teachers’ lounge to get a cup of coffee.

She was almost done brewing the coffee when she heard her name from across the room. She slowly rubbed her temples and turned to see who it was.

“A good morning we got here huh, Ms. Belladonna?” It was Sun, the P.E teacher, and usually his energetic nature would make the school day go faster but today was not the case.

 “Good morning, Mr.Wukong. Why are we yelling so early in the morning?” Blake retorted a little more hostel than she wanted.

“Okay whoa! Stop the teacher talk, what’s wrong Blake?”

“Sorry it’s not you. I just have a lot on my mind; last weekend Yang asked if I wanted to have kids and I-”

 “Oh my god! That’s so great, what’s the problem?” Blake took a moment to reply honestly shocked by the energetic response. Am I the only one thinking about the logistics of it?

“Don’t you think were too young? And what about money? We would also have to move; I have to think about my parents, and jobs, it’s a lot.”

“Blake, answer this question. Do you want to have a baby? Don’t think about the money or all that stuff. Do you Blake Belladonna want to have a baby with your girlfriend?”

Blake took a moment imagining Yang playing with a young child, she pictured the small hands and feet. The shared laughter they would have and most importantly the smile on Yang’s face. Sure, there would be hardships but maybe they could work it out.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Blake finally answered with a smile.

That night Blake came home with a bigger smile than usual. She set her bag in their room and changed into her comfort clothes, black legging and one of Yang’s graphic T-shirts. When she heard, the front door open she practically sprinted into the room to greet her girlfriend. Without any warning Blake ran into Yang’s arms and hung around her neck.

“Whoa this is new! What’s up Bl-”

“I’m ready. 

“Huh? I don’t...wait you don’t mean?”

“Do you wanna have a baby Yang?”

 Yang didn’t answer at first she just stood there, until she felt the tears in her eyes run down her face. She wrapped her arms around Blake’s waist and silently sobbed into her shoulder. Blake just started to rub her back trying to calm down her crying girlfriend.

“Yes Blake, I would love to have a baby with you.”

[theroundeviloftable]

Sunflowers

Pairing: Jhope x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Non AU

Summary: Y/N works at a small local art supply store while she is a university student studying art in Korea, and one day she receives a really unexpected customer at the worst of times.  (Or the one where Y/N has the pleasure of meeting one of her idols, but of course it had to be when her hair was a mess and she was covered head to toe in paint splatters.)

Word Count: 2,447

A/N: This was a request from the lovely @kdrawvh , who has recently been sharing in my lack of loyalty and slipping into hoseok’s lane along with me,,,,thanks for always being there with me lmao.  Hope you enjoy this, lovely! (Btw: Fine pupper ;))) )

Whenever the dialogue in quotes is bolded, it means someone is speaking korean  idk korean so im writing it in english but pretend they’re speaking korean they’re in korea okay

I imagine him looking something like this for this story (the image isn’t mine): 

It had been a pretty slow day at the small art store.  Not too many customers, not too many deliveries, and not too many interruptions in general.  Y/N was fairly pleased because this meant that she had basically had the majority of her 7 hour shift to herself to work on her painting behind the counter at the front of the small store.  Her unlimited access to all of the supplies the store sold was one of the main reasons she took the job in the first place, so it always brightened her mood just a little more when she actually had time to use those supplies.  

Y/N was just in the middle of re-tying her hair up in a ponytail after it had fallen out for the umpteenth time that day, when the bell above the door rang.  With her hands full, she couldn’t really take out the paintbrush she was holding between her teeth while she finished tying her hair.

“Jamkkanman (just a moment),” she tried to mumble, turning to flash as much of a smile as she could at the middle-aged lady who had just entered the shop.  Being an exchange student in Korea, Y/N always found herself forgetting the local customs and social norms, so she had to remind herself to return the polite bow the customer had given her in greeting.

After rushing to finish her ponytail, Y/N set down her paintbrush in the pot of brown paint she had been using and went to ask the customer if she needed assistance with her shopping.  The lady had refused her help kindly, so Y/N returned to the front counter (and her beloved canvas) to continue her work.  The mood was just exactly right for her due to the dusky sunlight streaming in through the store’s large front windows, and due to the soft songs that were currently playing over the loudspeaker from Y/N’s phone.

Thank god I didn’t forget to bring my AUX cord today...or else I wouldn’t have had decent music to listen to.

Soon enough the customer left without purchasing anything, and Y/N said goodbye and bowed as she watched the woman’s back move further down the street.  With every step farther the woman took, Y/N’s excitement grew all the more until she finally turned the corner and was out of sight completely.  

This meant that Y/N could go back to her painting.  

She silently cheered and smiled to herself while pumping one fist in the air, before standing back to admire the picture so far.  She had to reacquaint herself with the subject before continuing her shading and coloring with the multiple colors of paints she had out on the large easel she was using.  

Y/N had chosen a rather complicated source of inspiration today: Van Gogh’s Sunflower painting.  It was complicated not because of the subject of the painting, but because Y/N wanted to paint the sunflowers in a simultaneously different and similar way to Van Gogh, which was not something easy to accomplish.  She desired to make the painting her own somehow, but it was so hard when all she wanted to do was recreate the perfection that Van Gogh had created already all those many years ago.  Y/N once again picked up her wood palette in her left hand after considering the painting for a few more seconds, and picked up her brush with her right hand to begin mixing a dusty yellow color to shade in part of the flowers’ petals.  

But again, just as she had finished with the shading, she was interrupted by the small bell above the door chiming happily, and Y/N sighed quietly to herself before turning around, but her standard greeting died in her throat when she didn’t see the customer she expected to see.  With a furrowed brow, she peered curiously at the front door, but relaxed a little when she heard rustling down one of the aisles and then saw a flash of movement in the back of the store as (what appeared to be) a young man moved from aisle to aisle.  

“Do you need help finding anything today, sir?”  Y/N tried to speak loudly so that the customer would hear her, wherever he was in the small store.

“Ah, no, thank you!  I think I can find it okay on my own!”  Y/N started to turn back to her painting with a small smile on her lips, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind told her that she had heard that voice somewhere before.  

And as much as she tried to ignore it, she could not, so she closed her eyes and slapped her cheeks a little to make herself focus again before turning away from the store aisles and back to her artwork.  She chose an orange color this time and began to mix it with some brown paint that was already on her palette.  One of her favorite songs, Spring Day by BTS, started to play over the speaker and she found herself unable to resist humming along to the familiar tune even though there was another person in the store.

Little did she know, but the man that had entered the shop had realized he actually did need help finding his desired supplies, and had approached the front counter to ask for help, but was now captivated by the sight and sound of the young artist at work.  Her hair was askew and falling out of her pony tail, and there were dots (and larger, more intentional spots) of paint all over the girl; from what the man could see, the paint seemed to be everywhere from her hair, to her forehead, to her black t-shirt that sported the name of the shop, to the jeans that were cinched loosely around her waist with a belt that was, you guessed it, also covered in paint splotches.  But all of this didn’t matter to the man, and it may have even enhanced the image of the almost ethereal girl that was glowing in the sun and painting it’s flowers, while singing one of his band’s songs.

As he watched, he looked for an appropriate time to get the girl’s attention, and luck seemed to be on his side when the girl set down her paintbrush a few moments later in favor of fixing her ponytail again for the third time that hour.

“Ah, excuse me miss...” said the man, watching the girl’s shoulders jump slightly as she was startled.  He thought time would stop as she turned and he was finally face to face with her, able to finally meet the eyes that he had wanted to see ever since he heard her cheery, yet pensive voice ringing out across the shop.

Now Y/N, admittedly, had chosen to study art abroad in Korea with the thought in the back of her mind that she would maybe, possibly, if the heavens were on her side, get to meet some of the idols of kpop she had admired and cherished for years (although she would never say it out loud).  But never did she expect to be given that chance on a random Thursday afternoon, at her job, with flyaway hairs running wild and paint all over herself.

Her humming to the chorus of Spring Day caught in the back of her throat as she found herself in front of one of her idols, Jung Hoseok himself, otherwise known as her hope, her angel, J-Hope.

Y/N struggled to find her voice while her mouth flopped uselessly open and closed because J-Hope was right in front of her and he was staring at her and their eyes were meeting and he wasn’t looking away and-

“I was uh...singing your song..rather off-key if I do say so myself..”

Y/N looked down at her shoes as she cursed herself for thinking that was a good thing to say first to the man she had often dreamed of meeting in person.  Although she was forced to look back up at Hoseok when he smiled the sweetest smile and replied that it was fine and that he actually rather liked her version of the song; she couldn’t just not look at the source of the voice that was dripping in honey and happiness even more than she had heard over her speakers for so long.  After hearing that J-Hope actually liked her rendition of Spring Day, Y/N felt like she could die there and then with no regrets, but she remembered that she still had a job to do and managed to stutter out a nervous “how can I help you today”.  

“Ah, do you know BTS?  I’m assuming you do since you knew all the words to our song, but you could just like that song y’know...I started rambling again didn’t I?  Sorry, I tend to do that alot, anyways, you know our Jin-Hyung, right?  Well, he’s making more of his famous hearts to send to ARMY during our next concert and he needs a giant sheet of red poster paper and glitter, do you know where I could find that?”

Hoseok was normally not nearly as nervous as he was around Y/N, but for some reason he found himself greatly affected by the innocent and almost reverent way she stared at him wide-eyed as he spoke.  

Y/N was having almost the same problem as she tried to comprehend the fact that Jung-Fucking-Hoseok was live and in person a foot away from her while also trying to understand the rapid-fire Korean that the same man had spit in his haste to ask his question.  Now she definitely knew his rapping skills were no joke.

Composing herself as best as she could, Y/N finally answered Hoseok with only a smile (one that dazzled his eyes and made him feel like he had actually been staring at the sun instead of at a human woman), and beckoned for him to follow her down one of the aisles where she knew the paper, glue, and glitter was kept.

“I think you’ll also need some glue, unless you guys have that already...”.  Y/N stopped abruptly so that she could lean over and rummage through a drawer of different bottles of red glitter, and Hoseok had to stop himself from bumping into her and knocking the poor girl over, leading to him being slightly more flustered than he already was.  

But Y/N had already lost most of her nervousness, slipping into her comforting world of arts and crafts, and almost forgetting that she was currently standing next to one of the world’s most popular Korean idols. Almost.

A nervous silence settled over the two as Y/N continued to gather the paper and glitter that Hoseok had requested, and as Hoseok continued to try his best not to stare at the girl before him and trace the paint on her skin with his eyes.  

They both tried to speak at the same time, effectively shutting them both up and having the exact opposite affect of what they had wanted previously.  But this only made them start laughing really loudly, and soon both Hoseok and Y/N were practically rolling on the floor.  They had both been so nervous that their feelings had manifested in the form of almost-maniacal laughter.

Once they had both started to sober up, Y/N showed the glitter she had selected to Hoseok for his approval, and he had smiled fondly at her while nodding in confirmation that her artistic judgement was indeed perfect.  

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it perfect but...”

Hoseok couldn’t help but let his lower jaw drop open in surprise before realizing his mistake and fixing his expression once more.  “Did I...did I say that out loud just now?”

Y/N just giggled (and Hoseok swore it was even an more beautiful sight and sound than Jin-hyung singing and playing Awake on the guitar) before nodding a yes in his direction.  Hoseok simply laughed a little at himself as he awkwardly ran a hand through his hair, while in his mind he was praying to every single one of his lucky stars that he could make it out of the store without embarrassing himself further.

Y/N kept laughing quietly to herself at how much cuter Hoseok was in real life as she continued to lead him down the aisle to collect the rest of the things he needed.  Once they were all done, Y/N and Hoseok made their way to the front counter.

“Ah, Y/N, let me carry all that stuff.  I am the one buying it after all.”

Y/N felt her stomach flip and fireworks go off in her heart when she heard her name falling from Hoseok’s lips; it was something she never thought she would get to hear (considering she had also forgotten that she was wearing a nametag on her uniform shirt).  It was all she could do to stop herself from squealing, so she started to ring up Hoseok’s items in a valiant effort to distract herself.

But as any reasonable person knows, it is rather hard to ignore the actual sun when it is brightly watching and smiling at you from mere inches away as you scan barcodes and tap on electronic touchscreens.  

Y/N managed to slip into a comfortable silence within herself, when Hoseok chose to shatter it with his next words.  Y/N hadn’t even noticed that she had finished ringing him up and charging his credit card, pushing a receipt and a pen at him for him to sign.  

“I really like your take on the Van Gogh, by the way.  Those sunflowers remind me of you a little.”

Hoseok felt a tiny smirk spread on his lips as he saw the way Y/N’s eyes widened slightly at the wink he threw her way, impressed at himself for how quickly he was able to get his butt in gear and actually start flirting with the girl he had found attractive since the moment he had walked into the store.

He quickly finished signing the receipt and turned it around so that it faced Y/N once more, and left the store with a quiet “thank you” and one more sunny smile thrown over his shoulder.

Y/N felt a similar smile overtake her features as she looked down at his receipt that now bore his familiar autograph, along with his chat ID on a popular messaging app.  Y/N couldn’t believe she had taken the tiny bells above the door for granted for so long, as they were what had alerted her to her dream come true in the first place; she would make sure to never forsake the little silver bells again.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and don’t be afraid to like, reblog, and tell me your thoughts/comments!