#made the mistake of checking my email and saw that i have a second feedback message from a prof im avoiding rn

[adhdheather]

literally nothing makes me miss my math classes the way that having to write papers when im stressed out and guilty over late work does

[xjoonchildx]

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader  chapter two: san juan

pairing: jungkook/reader word count: 6.6K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings:  criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: okay, ya’ll. I really never intended to make this story anything more than a one-shot...but a couple of people asked for more and then the wheels started turning, and I had more than a little crush on this sexy, smartassed jungkook. so here we are! I hope you guys like it.

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna​ who’s smut is even better than her art

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

You still think about Jungkook Jeon.

You think about him when you spot his beautiful face on the poster in the hallway at your office, with the word WANTED emblazoned across the top.

You think about him every time you fly because you leave condoms behind in the bathroom like some kind of kinky Fairy Godmother.

And sometimes -- late at night, after you’ve had a glass of wine -- you shut your eyes and think about him when you slip between the sheets and then slip a hand into your panties.

You wonder where in the world he is and how he’s getting away with life on the run -- again.

Though technically he’s not your problem anymore.

The Marshals took over his case after he pulled his vanishing act in Los Angeles, so it’s some other poor sap’s job to find him and bring him in.  You’d done your part -- you’d tracked him down and brought him to the States, even got him before a judge.  

So what happened after that didn’t happen on your watch.

Totally out of your hands.

No reason for you to still obsess over how it all went down.

At all.

Right?

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

The humidity in San Juan hits you like a wall the second you step out of Muñoz Marín International Airport.

You quickly scan the throng of waiting drivers and find the one holding the sign with your name on it.  The suit you’d worn on the plane is already sticking to the backs of your thighs in this heat.

“Welcome to Puerto Rico,” the driver smiles warmly, offering to take your luggage off your hands. You smile back as you follow him to the line of cars idling outside.

The ding of a text alert distracts you for a moment.  

You pull out your phone and see it’s your boss, checking to make sure your flight landed on time.  The driver opens the car door and you slip inside while he pops the trunk to put your bags away.  

You’re so busy tapping out a response that you don’t realize something is off until the driver raps twice on the back of the car.

Because that’s a signal for the car to go.

Because the man behind the wheel is not the man who just loaded you and your bags into this car.

Because the man behind the wheel is --

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you breathe, eyes wide on the reflection in the rearview mirror.

He’s got a snapback pulled low over his face but you can still see his eyes. And you’d know those eyes anywhere. You’ve thought about those eyes a lot more than you’d like to admit.

“That -- “ Jungkook says, pressing the gas, “-- is the weirdest way to say you missed me, too.”

He tilts his head up so you can catch the reflection of his wide smile.

You are in a car with Jungkook Jeon. In a moving car with Jungkook Jeon.  

“Start talking,” you snap.  

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

You slump back into the seat and clap a hand over your face. Damn this man and damn his stupid, smart-assed, beautiful mouth.

“Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook snorts at the note of panic in your voice.  

“To your hotel, dummy.  You have a meeting in like, two hours.”

“Unbelievable,” you sigh after a moment. “Do I even want to know how you know all of this?”

“Well in my defense,” he starts, “you guys still have really shitty firewalls.  You’ve got a lot of nerve calling yourselves an intelligence agency with that set-up in place.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along your feedback,” you mutter.

“You should. So anyway, I was reading through your emails one day -- you know, as I do -- and I saw you were coming to town. I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you.”

Holy shit.

That’s a lot to take in right now and you’re still trying to process the series of events that led up to you, in a car with Jungkook Jeon.  You keep asking questions because it seems like the only sane thing to do in this entirely insane situation.

“You read my emails.”

“Yeah.”

“How often?”

“Uh….all the time?”

You blow out an exasperated breath.  

“You’re a real piece of work. Just what makes you think I won’t have this car surrounded by Feds by the time we get to the hotel?”

“You could,” he concedes thoughtfully. He looks up from the road for a moment to lock eyes with you in the rearview. “But we both know you won’t.”

His certainty makes you bristle.  Is he right about that?

You force yourself to look away from him and redirect your gaze outside to watch the carefully landscaped palm trees speed by.  He’s been here for some time, you think, as he navigates the streets with ease.  He doesn’t seem to be looking for his next turn or second-guessing which way to go. He’s not even using GPS.

“You are in some deep shit back home, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finally. “You embarrassed them. They hate being embarrassed.”

He chuckles.

“Don’t you think it’s time to drop the formalities, Agent? I’ve had my tongue in your pussy, you know.”

He startles a laugh from you with his casual, crass statement of fact.  You forgot how funny he is -- how smart and affable and completely disarming he is.

“Anyway, that’s their problem, not mine,” he continues. “And not yours anymore either, from what I understand.”

Boy, he really wasn’t kidding about those emails.

You mentally rummage through your inbox, try to imagine what information he’s had access to these past few months.  Countless agency messages, a few personal ones and at least one exchange that could qualify as both. You wonder if he’s seen that one, too.  

You clear your throat, uncomfortable with the thought.

“So what’s your plan, then? Hide out in plain sight in a territory of the United States?”

“It’s worked for me so far, hasn’t it?”

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway, my plan right now is to drop you off at this hotel,” Jungkook says, turning into the drive. “Then you’re going to skip that reception they have scheduled for tomorrow night because you’re going to have drinks with me instead.”

You say nothing for a moment.

It’s absurd that your first reaction to his words is a tingle of excitement. It’s ludicrous that you haven’t picked up the phone to call this in by this point. It’s fucking bananas that you’re picturing yourself sharing a drink with this man instead of having him arrested.

The car rolls to a stop.

“Now, as much as I’d love to act the part of a perfect gentleman and help you with those bags, I can’t,” Jungkook says, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a small piece of paper. “Your hotel is crawling with cameras and believe it or not, I’m trying to minimize the number of stupid risks I take these days.”

You snort.

He reaches behind his seat to hand you the note.

“Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 7 o’clock. Be sure to wear something tight, yeah?”

“You are out of your mind,” you say from between clenched teeth, snatching the paper out of his hand.

Jungkook laughs.

“I know, right?”

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

You should call the Marshals.

You should really call the Marshals.

Why haven’t you called the goddamned Marshals?

“ -- do you think, Agent?”

Fuck.  

You can’t seem to keep your mind focused on this meeting and now everyone around the conference table is looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” you’re forced to admit. “Catch me up?”

“I was saying,” Agent Dominguez starts again, “that given the damage done to the office here in San Juan, we should move agents to the mainland temporarily.  Miami, preferably.”

“Yes,” you agree. “That would be best.  Until we can get things back on track.”

Dominguez smiles in a skeptical way, like he knows you’re preoccupied and he’s curious as to why.  You smile back and hope it’s convincing.  

“We’ll have to go over some logistics, of course, after the final decisions are made,” he continues, turning his attention back to the room at large. “But for now, let’s consider that a flight from Miami is just a hop, skip, and a jump.  It makes sense.”

The rest of the assembled meeting guests murmur in agreement.

Your mind wanders back to that slip of paper tucked away inside your bag at the hotel, back to the man who gave it to you.  The ridiculous, self-assured little asshole who just knows you aren’t going to rat him out. Who just knows you’re going to join him for drinks like he’s not an actual federal fugitive and you’re not an actual federal agent.

Dominguez continues to drone on in the background.

“...and if you look at the numbers, you’ll see post-storm crime is actually way down…”

What you would give to be anywhere but this meeting right now.  You pinch the bridge of your nose, shut your eyes and go down the list of facts as you know them.

He’s been reading your emails.

Following your every move.

He wants to see you tonight.

What the hell is wrong with you that knowing all of this excites you instead of freaking you out? What does it mean that a part of you -- a really big part of you -- wants to take him up on his offer?

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

Dominguez pulls you aside after the morning round of meetings wraps for lunch.  

“Hey,” he says, stopping you in the hallway.  “Are you alright? You’ve seemed just a little off since yesterday.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say apologetically. “Been feeling a little off these past two days.”

Not technically a lie?

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Dominguez replies smoothly.

“Hope you’ll be feeling up to attending the reception tonight,” he continues. “I’d hate for you to miss it.”

You offer him a weak smile.  The look on his face right now is making you a bit queasy.

What if they knew? What then?

Once was insane enough. Once could be written off as a mistake, a terrible lapse in judgement.  An embarrassing and regrettable fluke.

But twice? Twice is a choice, a conscious decision.  

Twice would make you complicit -- a co-conspirator, a co-defendant and a whole host of other “C” words you’d rather not contemplate right now.  

There would be no explaining away twice.

You busy yourself with getting a bottled water from the vending machine just to have an excuse to look away. You tell yourself not to be paranoid. You have no reason to suspect they know anything and this is not the time to borrow worry.

“I’m going to try and get some rest after we wrap for the day,” you say finally, opening the bottle to take a drink.  “See if I feel better after that.”

Dominguez’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.  

“You do that, Agent.”

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

Wrapped in a towel, fresh from a shower, you alternate between staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror and looking back at that damning piece of paper in your hand.

You should put on the nice-but-work-appropriate cocktail dress you’d chosen for the reception that you should be attending tonight.  You should drop this piece of paper in the trash, forget Jungkook Jeon exists and move on.  You should be having drinks with your colleagues from the San Juan office in an hour, making decisions that don’t amount to career suicide and living life on the straight and narrow like a normal fucking human being.

Should, should, should.

You walk over to your suitcase and pull out a slim-cut sundress with spaghetti straps instead. You smooth your hands over the delicate material, imagine the light weight of the fabric would feel just right in this humid weather.  You slip the dress over your shoulders, smooth it down with your hands, turn from side to side to assess the fit.

For a moment you close your eyes and allow yourself to imagine Jungkook slipping his hands underneath this dress, pushing the hem up your thighs. You imagine his thumbs and fingers circling the sensitive skin there.  His lips on your neck.  His voice in your ear.

The sound of an incoming text knocks you out of your fantasy and you open your eyes to see your flushed reflection staring back in the mirror. You reach for your phone.

you gonna make it out tonight? [ 5:48 PM ]

You stare at Dominguez’s message for a moment.

Decision time.

Are you?

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

You’ve been over every step you took before leaving the hotel at least a dozen times by now.

You’d sent Domniguez a text, claiming to be under the weather.

You’d left your phone in the safe in your room.

You’d walked out of the hotel through a service exit and into a waiting car.

All clear, decisive, sane choices despite the fact that you are obviously a crazy person. Because no one in their right mind would be pulling this kind of stunt.

The ride is short, only a few minutes from your federally-funded accommodations to the much more humble beachside hotel where Jungkook told you to meet him. You give the driver more than enough money to cover the fare and tip and step out into the thick night air.  You spot him a short distance away, sitting at a tiki bar just off the water.

Puerto Rico has apparently been very good to Jungkook Jeon.  

He is reclined casually in a barstool, drinking a bottled beer.  The creamy off-white of his linen shirt is a perfect contrast to the deep golden tan he’s managed to acquire these past few months. He’s let his wavy black hair grow long again and it falls just below his ears. The laugh he shares with the bartender reveals his smile and makes him look relaxed and radiant and fucking perfect.

Jungkook turns in his stool just as you approach and the slow, appreciative once-over he gives you makes your entire body feel warm. The corner of his mouth curves up in a half-smile.

Dammit.

You’ve got to get your head on straight.

Jungkook isn’t some hot, available guy you’re trying to land. He’s a wanted man and the fact that he’s sitting out in the open at this tiny outdoor beach bar makes you nervous. It’s a saving grace that the bar is damned near dead but there are still too many angles, too many clear lines of sight. You’re annoyed that he’s being so flippant about keeping a low profile.  

You wait until you are close enough to whisper before you speak.

“This is a terrible idea.”

He cocks a brow. “Drinks?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss. “We need to go somewhere more private.”

“Christ woman,” he groans. “Don’t you know it’s polite to wine and dine me first? I’m not a piece of meat, you know.”

He grins when you huff your frustration.

“Besides, if you were really worried about drawing attention --” he pauses, rakes an appreciative gaze across your décolletage, “-- you certainly wouldn’t have worn that dress.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, does he ever turn it off? Is he incapable of recognizing how risky and fucked up this situation really is?

“You’re an idiot,” you bite out, turning to leave -- but Jungkook grabs for your wrist.

“Relax,” he soothes, pulling you back.  “Seriously.  I have the situation under control.”

A charged moment passes as you give him a long look. His hand remains firm and warm around your wrist.

“Do you trust me?”

What a ridiculous question.  

What you know about Jungkook Jeon could fit on an index card, and what little information you do have doesn’t exactly do him any favors. You’re putting your career -- potentially even your freedom at risk even being here.

But something about the naked sincerity on his face makes you want to trust him.

God only knows why.

You take a deep breath in and out before sliding into the barstool he’s pulled out for you.  The bartender smiles from a few feet away, makes his way over.  You tense, turning to face away and Jungkook puts a steadying hand on your knee.

“It’s cool,” he murmurs. “He knows me.”

“Why on earth do you think that’s supposed to make me feel better?” you fire back.

“I think -- you just need to have a drink,” he reasons, eyes sparkling. He lifts his beer to his lips and you catch yourself staring for a moment at the way the tendons in his arms flex, the way his lips slide over the mouth of the bottle.

Has the simple act of drinking a beer always looked that masculine?

Shit, you do need a drink.

You order a mojito without ever looking the bartender in the eye. Whoever he is -- Jungkook’s buddy it would seem -- he’s understanding about your appalling lack of manners. He can probably recognize a truly fucked-up situation from a mile away and is steering clear like someone with an inkling of common sense.

For his part, Jungkook has dropped the flirtatious act for a moment and the small smile that plays across his face is calm and reassuring.

It works.

“Alright Jeon,” you sigh after a moment. “Let’s talk. How did you do it?”

He takes a long drink of his beer.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

You’d expected as much. You would bet everything in the bank that his parents helped him get out of Los Angeles.  The kind but guarded look on his face is the closest you’ll get to a confirmation of that fact.

“Ask me anything else.”

“Fine.  How did you pull off the stunt at the airport?”

“Oh, that was easy,” Jungkook teases. “I found the driver holding your name card and offered him twice the fare. He was happy to help me out. Nice guy, actually.”

“He’s lucky you didn’t cut me into pieces,” you grumble.

Jungkook laughs. “You’ve got a wild imagination. Besides, who wouldn’t trust a face like this?”

To make his point, he turns from side to side to offer you a better look at his profiles. Outwardly you roll your eyes, but inwardly it’s hard to ignore the sharp line of his jaw, the perfectly symmetrical angles of his face.  You take another long drink from the cocktail in your hand.

“Why Puerto Rico?”

“Why not? The scenery is beautiful, the food is delicious, and people know how to mind their own goddamned business,” He takes another sip of beer. “Besides, you guys didn’t exactly leave me with a lot of options when you took my passport. And hey -- thanks for that, by the way.  Finding a good fake is a real bitch.”

“We’re not travel agents, Jeon,” you snort.

He laughs.

“So this -- “ you motion to the small building attached to the tiki bar, “ -- is where you’ve been staying?”

“Dammit, woman — I said ask me anything, not everything. You’re not wearing a wire, are you?”  

He grins at the glare you fix him with.  

“I’m kidding, obviously. No way you’d be able to hide a wire under that delightful little number.”

He chuckles when you flush.

“So yeah, this is one place I’ve been staying. Mostly locals around here.  After the storm, so many new people turned up to help rebuild that it’s been pretty easy to blend in with the new faces.  Plus, it’s not hard to find work.”

“So you’ve got this all figured out, huh?”

“Some of it,” he demures, and you can’t help but notice he’s managed to slide a little closer.  His proximity is distracting. You’ve only had one drink and you already feel a bit lightheaded.

Jungkook scrubs a hand down his mouth, fixes you with a long look.

“Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Fair enough,” you concede.

“You gonna go to dinner with him?”

You exhale a nervous laugh against the rim of your glass. You’d wondered if the series of back-and-forth emails between you and Agent Kim Namjoon would come up. You should have known it would.

Agent Kim’s last email came this week. It said he would be traveling to Los Angeles for some training soon.

It said that he wanted to take you to dinner.  

You should have fired back an enthusiastic yes! right away because Agent Kim is hot and smart and to your knowledge has zero outstanding warrants.

But you didn’t.

Jungkook tilts the mouth of his beer against his lips.  

“Well?”

“Yes,” you say, finally.

“Don’t.”

The reply is so abrupt, so emphatic that you have to laugh.

“Why?”

“He’s an empty suit. A cardboard cut-out. Not right for you at all.”

The smirk on Jungkook’s mouth indicates he’s teasing, but his tone indicates something else entirely. The territorial current that runs under his words is annoying and exciting and complicated.

“He’s just trying to fuck you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow at that.

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“No,” he murmurs, leaning close. “I have fucked you. I plan on fucking you again. He and I are not the same, at all.”

His words set off a throb between your thighs and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, uncross and recross your legs.  Jungkook leans back, looking satisfied with how much he’s managed to unnerve you.

“So this is some kind of pissing contest?”

You laugh to keep the sounds of your words light, but your words come out uneven. “You stalk my inbox for months and abduct me from the airport to what -- keep me from fucking Agent Kim? You hate him that much?”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Kim,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“You know what this is about. Don’t play with me.”

He’s right, of course.  You do know what this is about.  

It’s why you fucked him in an airplane bathroom against all rules of decorum and common sense.  It’s why you’re here, making stupid decisions and taking dumb risks instead of back at your hotel playing it safe. It’s why you’ve never been able to stop thinking about him.

Something connects you to this man, something you don’t really understand -- and now you know for a fact that whatever it is, it isn’t one-sided.

Your body is rigid, unnaturally still as the bartender drops off new drinks and you immediately reach for the glass, if for no other reason than to stall.  Jungkook takes a long sip from his new beer before speaking again.  You can feel his eyes on you but you don’t look back.

“I like you.”  

No sarcastic quip follows. No charged sexual innuendo.  Something about that simple admission is more intimate than the fact that he’s literally been inside you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” is the only thing you can think to say.  

Jungkook shoots you a playful smile.

“I know you like mojitos.  I know you have a standing appointment with some fancy hair salon in LA every six weeks.  I know you order Chipotle far more than is necessary or probably healthy.”

He leans closer and the look on his face changes into something different -- something that makes you shiver.  He slides his hand under your jaw, tips your head up, strokes a thumb across your cheek.  

“I know what you sound like when you come,” he whispers. “I know I’d like to hear that again.”

Oh, God.

This must be what it’s like to drown. To see your demise play out before your eyes but still feel powerless to stop it.  Every smart-assed retort you could fire back dies on your tongue and all you can do is blink when Jungkook brushes his lips against yours.

“And I know you like me too,” he whispers against your mouth.

He’s right.

You do.

You really, really do.

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

It’s like a switch flips inside your brain.  Once you start kissing him, you can’t stop.  

You both fall through the open door to his room in a tangle of limbs and lips.

Jungkook lifts you up off the floor and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist, never stopping the assault on his mouth and skin.  He moans when you lick a stripe up his neck. He tastes like salt and sunscreen and sex and you are so desperate to feel him inside you that you can’t think straight.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he protests, walking you both over to the mattress.  He drops you unceremoniously on top of the bedding.

“Stop.”

“God, no,” you groan, panting.  “Why?”

He takes a deep breath in and out, shoves a hand through his hair.  

“I promised myself I was going to take my time with you if I ever got this chance again,” he explains, voice ragged with arousal. “No cuffs. No rush. Not this time.”

You huff in exasperation and climb up onto your knees on the mattress.  

Jungkook’s eyes widen when you drop both hands to the hem of your dress and pull it up and off in one swift motion.  You’d had to forgo a bra given the skimpy nature of your sundress and it’s easy to forget he hasn’t really seen you naked. The look on his face says he heartily approves.

“Take your time later,” you fire back.  “Take your clothes off now.”

Jungkook laughs.  “Are you always this bossy?”

“Yes.  If you wait one minute longer I’m going to sober up and realize this is a terrible decision. Take your clothes off.”

“Hush woman.”  

He silences you with mock annoyance as his fingers drop to work the buttons of his shirt. You catch your mouth before it drops open as he pulls the shirt off, exposing the chiseled planes of his body.  You swallow thickly when he drops the garment to the floor.  

No human being should be allowed to look like this.

It’s obscene.

The tattoos that run across his hands and forearms extend up to his shoulders, across his chest. The defined lines that outline his abdomen are made even more plain by his deep breaths.  He is -- hands down -- the sexiest man you have ever seen in your life.  

“Shit Jungkook, you’ve been holding out on me,” you breathe, a note of awe in your voice.

“And I knew you had amazing tits,” he grins, shoving his jeans off his hips. “Lie back.”

The gruff command makes your body tight with anticipation.  Jungkook’s face is damp with sweat, locks clinging to his brow when he sinks down onto the mattress and crawls until he’s hovering over you.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers, slanting his lips over yours.  “Goddamnit, I’ve been thinking about this for so damned long.”

You sigh into his mouth.

Me too, you want to say. But you don’t.

“I’ve thought about the way you taste every single day, did you know that?”

He circles one aching nipple with his tongue and teeth.  You whimper at the heavy drag of his tongue.  

“I’ve imagined getting my mouth on you again far more than is normal or sane,” he whispers against your skin, pulling the damp lace of your panties off your ankles and tossing it away.

“Jungkook,” you whine. “Please.”

His lips skate over the sensitive skin between your breasts, across your stomach as he slides downward.  Your body stills when you feel his lips at your entrance, breath warm against your wetness.  

The first touch of his tongue is quick, teasing.  You’re wound so tight your hips jerk off the bed at that light contact.

“Easy girl,” Jungkook teases, sealing his mouth over your clit.  The strong fingers of one hand press into your hip, grip you tight to keep you from pulling away.  He slips one long finger from his other hand inside you to join his tongue in the all-out assault.

“God you are sexy,” he groans, licking deeply into you.  You grab handfuls of his damp hair in between shaking fingers.   “You’ve ruined me for all other federal agents, you know.”

Your laugh bleeds into a gasp when Jungkook slips a second finger inside of you, presses harder against you with his tongue.

“Oh, shit,” you whine, legs trembling. You roll your hips mindlessly, enjoying the way he moans in response.

“You gonna let me hear it again?” his words vibrate almost painfully against your already aching clit. “Be as loud as you want this time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh in agreement, feeling that telltale prickle building between your thighs.

He sets you off with the firm press of the heel of his hand on your mound.  You can’t control your body’s reaction when the pressure against that sensitive wall and the stimulation of your clit combine.  Your back arches high off the bed when you start to come apart, moaning wantonly.

Your orgasm seems to go on and on forever and Jungkook whispers words of encouragement as you ride it out.  He doesn’t stop with his tongue and fingers until you start to quiver from the overstimulation, breaths hitching when shudders run up and down your back.

“Dammit, Jungkook,” you gasp once you regain control of your ragged breathing.

He laughs as he kisses his way back up your body, across your chest and neck.  You welcome the press of his body when he settles over you.  He grinds his hips down and you whimper at the feel of his rigid cock straining against his boxers.   You clench hard at the memory of him deep inside you.

“Take those off,” you order, scraping your teeth against the damp skin of his neck.

“Ask me nice and I might consider it,” he teases.

You shoot him a playfully disapproving look before pushing against his shoulder until he rolls over.  His eyes fall shut when you climb over him and drag your drenched center against the firm outline of his cock.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers, and you lean forward to seal your lips over his.  He pants into your mouth as you rock against him.

You slide down his body after a moment, hooking your fingers into his boxers and pulling them down with you.

The thing about your hurried little encounter inside that airplane bathroom is that it’s hard to remember the details.  It was so rushed and illicit and bizarre that you can barely recount what he felt like, what he looked like in the moment.  But right now -- when his cock springs free and he looks down at you from beneath heavy lids and he looks so sincerely fucked out -- you make sure to commit this moment to memory.  

Jungkook sucks a strangled breath between his teeth when you take him in your mouth.  His fingers immediately wind into your hair and you sigh around his length when he groans his satisfaction.  His hips jerk when you pull off of him, dragging your tongue against the sensitive spot under the head of his cock before releasing it.

“Shit,” he moans, “I forgot how good you are at that.”

You laugh and wrap one hand firmly around the base of his cock. He’s already leaking at the tip and he hisses when you sweep your tongue across the swollen head. He gathers your hair in his hands, pulls gently on the strands but you can feel the restraint he’s exercising. His body is radiating tension, taut with unspent energy.  

“You can get rougher if you want,” you breathe, pumping him steadily with your hands.  

His agonized groan tells you he’d love to take you up on that offer.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he pants, words sounding pained. “I’m doing everything I can not to literally blow my second chance here.”

You release his cock with a smile and he pulls away to shift his body up the bed. He reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a condom.  He holds it up for a moment and the two of you share a knowing laugh.

The laughter dies the moment you crawl up the bed to join him and take the condom out of his hand.  Jungkook’s eyes are dark and focused as you rip it open and roll it down his straining cock.  Once it’s in place he steals the air from your lungs with a deep kiss and pulls you onto his lap.  

You’re struck still for a moment when you look down at him just as you are lining him up with your entrance. He looks back at you with those blown-out pupils and kiss-bitten lips and you lose your momentum.  You should say something or do something but it’s so damned hard to focus when he’s looking at you like that.

He brushes a damp lock of hair away from your face with his fingers and fixes you with an expectant look.

You want to tell him how handsome he is.

You want to tell him that he’s the most interesting person you’ve ever met.

But you don’t.  

Jungkook rescues you from your sudden crisis with a well-timed tease.

“You’ve been rushing me since we got here,” he chuckles, brow raised. “You’re gonna leave me like this?”

He grabs the base of his stiff cock with one hand, rubs the head against your clit to make his point. You answer him with a desperate kiss, swallowing the groan he makes when you finally sink down.

His hands move to either side of your ass to guide the movement of your hips.  Your first few thrusts are hesitant, shaky as you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you.  He feels harder and thicker than you remember.

“Oh, god --” you moan.

You feel his faint hum of satisfaction against your breasts.  He tongues messily at your aching nipples, sucks them into his mouth.  His fingers dig into your ass as he thrusts up to meet your thrusts down.  

His mouth is full of you. His hands are full of you.  You are full of him.  The feeling of filling and being filled is unbearable at this point.  It’s so much stimulation at once that it borders on painful.

“Feel so good wrapped around me like this,” Jungkook groans. “I can’t get enough.”

Me neither, you want to say. I’ve been dying to feel you like this, you nearly whisper.

But you don’t.

You feel disoriented for a moment and grab onto the headboard for desperately needed balance.  It gives you the leverage you need to take him deeper, faster, and the steady rhythm of his thrusts and breaths starts to pick up in speed.

Then you make the mistake of opening your eyes and looking down into his face.

He is covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes hooded and mouth slack with pleasure. He fixes you with a look so erotic you nearly blush.  It’s pretty ridiculous to be literally riding a man’s cock and feel suddenly shy, but that’s exactly what happens.  

You force yourself to close your eyes.

Jungkook buries his face in your neck. You feel one of his hands move away from your hips, down to where the two of you meet. The rough pad of one thumb starts to work your clit and the stimulation distracts you for a moment, makes your rhythm sloppy.  

“I want to feel you come,” he breathes, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone and neck. “I want to know what it feels like when I’m inside you.”

“So close,” you whine on a shaky breath.

“I’m gonna go off like a bomb,” he groans, stroking so deep you see stars.  “Take me with you.”

If it weren’t for the one hand keeping you anchored to the headboard, you’d have collapsed onto him with the sheer force of your orgasm.  You whimper as Jungkook’s orgasm rips through him, body shuddering as he pounds harder and faster.  It takes a few frantic, frenzied moments for his rhythm to slow and his moans to subside.

Then you do slump onto him, spent and sweaty and rubbery with utter exhaustion. You’re both still for a moment, damp bodies pressed together as you both catch your breath.

He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

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

You take a shower together.  

Afterwards, you both fall back into bed clean and warm.  

You make good on your promise to let Jungkook take his time this go-around.  He fucks you slow and relaxed from behind while you lay side by side.  The steady lap of the waves outside his window is a perfect backdrop as he whispers into your ear and buries himself deep inside you.

Afterwards, everything is still but the waves.  

You both enjoy the complete silence for a while.  Your stroke your fingers across the strong forearm Jungkook has wrapped around you and he breathes deeply into your hair.  It feels natural, somehow.

It feels good.  

You can’t remember the last time anything felt this good.

“Stay with me,” Jungkook whispers after a while, nosing into the nape of your neck.  He drops a soft kiss on the sensitive skin just below your ear.  

“I can’t,” you whisper back.  “I have a meeting first thing in the morning. Don’t tell me you skipped that email.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“I wasn’t talking about tonight.”

You go rigid from head to toe.  Maybe you didn’t hear that right.

“What?”

“Stay with me,” he says again, like it’s going to make more sense the second time he says it. “We could go all over the world and eat the best food and fuck in the most beautiful places.”  His fingers stroke up your side, sending chills up your back. “It could be great.”

You wait for him to laugh.  He doesn’t.

You pull out of his hold, flip your body so that you’re facing him.  You expect to see his teasing smirk staring back, but you don’t. He looks serious.

“What the fuck was in that beer, Jeon?”

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he says quietly. “You could think about it for a while.”

You stare at the side of his perfect profile, dazed for a moment by the strange combination of feelings swirling inside you right now.  

There’s disbelief at the insane Bonnie and Clyde fantasy he’s decided to pitch.

There’s disappointment because there’s a tiny part of you that wants to entertain that fantasy.

And there’s a little bit of heartache because right now he looks so lonely.  

That’s the part that gnaws at you.  It makes you feel raw and exposed.  So you do what you know best and try to redirect with humor.

“Who’s got a wild imagination now, huh?”

His lips twitch into a wry smile.  

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

You’d waited until you were certain he was asleep before slipping out of his arms and out of the bed.  He slept heavy, not stirring once while you slipped into your clothes and shoes.  He slept like someone without a care in the world.

Hardly.

It had taken a moment to find a piece of paper.  It was only just as you were about to give up that you remembered Jungkook’s note, tucked safely into your bag.

You looked back at him in the bed -- studied him for a moment before quietly scrawling a note on the other side of that piece of paper.

you know i can’t. i’m sorry.

[jobrookekarev]

I Remember it All Too Well

Chapter One of Six: Invisible String Tying You to Me

Words: 2200

Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life. 

Or

The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Helen Karev, Eli Stevens, Alexis Stevens.

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags: Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption, the Pandemic.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Will update weekly

……………………………………………………………………

Alex was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. It was spaghetti night which means twice the mess as usual nights as he dumped the first jar of spaghetti sauce into the huge pot on the stove. 

“Here you go, Daddy,” Eli said, handing him the other jar of spaghetti sauce.

“Thanks, bud,” Alex smiled at Eli, his little co-chef tonight.

Eli ran off to get the noodles as Alex put the other jar of sauce in the pot and turned on the burner to simmer.

Izzie always went all out with the homemade sauce and everything, but Alex made a version of spaghetti sauce that he and Jo used to make. It was basically just, roasted ground beef, two different kinds of store-bought spaghetti sauce, and a dash of fresh garlic and hot pepper flakes. Izzie hated it, but the twins absolutely loved it and she wasn’t here to tell him what to do. So Daddy’s spaghetti sauce it was.

“Alex!” He heard his mother call out to him from the office down the hall. “There's something wrong with my video call!”

“Just a second mom,” Alex said as he put the can of sauce in the sink and wiped his hands. 

“Eli hold off on the noodles and don’t do anything in the kitchen until I get back,” Alex said, taking the pack of noodles from him.

“Okay,” Eli said as he scurried off to join his sister on the carpet as she played with their tablet. It was a little pre-dinner technology time and they were completely engrossed in it and didn't even notice as Alex left the room. 

He walked down the hall to the little office Helen had in the corner of the house. Ever since the pandemic started Alex had moved back to Iowa to keep an eye on his mother during the lockdown. The library had closed and Helen struggled to maintain her schedule. Having Alex there had helped as he set her up with her therapist two times a week and she was able to help the kids with their school work in place of her work at the library. It wasn’t perfect, but they made do.

Izzie wasn't with them as the two of them were fighting. Izzie was upset he wouldn't call her his girlfriend, despite their relationship and the fact that they lived and parented together. Alex tried to love her and he wanted to make it work, but he couldn't just jump all in. Izzie wanted to pick up where they left off. She wanted them to be together, so she could say she had the perfect life; a partner, and kids, and everything. However, Alex wasn't ready to fully love her like that again. Truth be told he was still in love with Jo. He needed time to let go of Jo and grieve the loss of his marriage to her. 

The pandemic had put a strain on all of that and Izzie had opted to stay back in Kansas, although she called every day to talk to the kids. As Izzie continued to work through the pandemic, Alex was left alone to parent the twins when the schools closed. Before the shutdown, Alex hadn't been able to find a job and was just subbing for the Ped’s attendings at the hospital Izzie worked at. With the quarantine that had transitioned to the occasional Zoom call consult and now he was mostly just a stay-at-home dad to the twins. 

“I had the email on the computer and I clicked the link, but then this little box popped up and asked for a password, but I've never used a password before?” Helen explained as she pointed to the computer set up on the desk for a video call with her doctor. 

She sat back in the chair and twisted her fingers as she looked up at the clock. It was five minutes past five and he could tell she was getting upset that the call hadn't gone as planned throwing off her schedule. She was going to therapy twice a week and had an extra doctor’s video appointment every other week, on Friday evenings. 

“Okay, let me see,” Alex said as he pulled up the zoom meeting on the computer. He double checked the internet settings and went back to the original email. Alex quickly read it over. It was the standard zoom email with time and place and the passcode at the bottom. Alex clicked the link and waited for it to start up. 

The Zoom started up but prompted him for the password and Alex quickly input the code and the zoom meeting connection started up on the screen.

“Thank you, Alex, but you should go,” Helen urged as she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. 

Alex stepped away to give his mother her privacy, but then the video connected and a baby appeared on the screen. The baby couldn't have been more than six months old as the camera was angled to the floor so they could see the baby sitting up on a blanket surrounded by toys. The baby smiled as soon as the video started. They locked eyes with Helen and babbled excitedly before leaning towards her. The baby excitedly babbled, as they seemed to recognize Helen and she smiled as she looked at them.

“Hello, little one,” Helen said as she leaned forward and waved at the baby. “I’m so happy to see you, but where’s your Mommy?”

Alex stepped forward and smiled as he watched them interact. He wasn't surprised that the doctor put their computer on their coffee table and did Zoom meetings with their baby. They were in the middle of a pandemic and he had done the same with the twins when he consulted for a few Ped’s cases at the hospital in Kansas City. Then he recognized the couch behind the baby. It was the white couch that Jo had bought for him with his money that she won after the ping pong match. The room around the baby was the loft in Seattle.

“Hey, do you see Grandma?” Jo's sweet voice came through the line as she sat down on the floor next to the baby and picked them up before sitting them in her lap. “I was worried when you were late. I was just about to call you, but I couldn’t find my phone... Alex?” 

Alex stood there dumbfounded as they locked eyes. Jo was just as shocked to see him as he was, but only for a moment before Jo grew angry and reached forward to end the call.

“No, Josephine, please wait, he's leaving,” Helen pleaded with her but it was too late as Jo closed the laptop and ended the call.

Helen turned around and glared at him. “I told you to go.” 

“No you can't do that, you can't just tell me to leave when you've been video chatting with my ex-wife and her baby?” Alex said, he tried not to get too upset, but he couldn't help it.

Alex just stood there shocked as he thought about Jo and the baby in her lap, video chatting with his mother. This had to have been an ongoing thing as Helen had it scheduled out every other Friday for weeks. He remembered walking past the door one time and hearing baby giggles, he brushed it off as just weird feedback, but there was a baby. 

It was Jo’s baby. He didn't even know how she’s had a baby. She couldn't have been pregnant when he left because the baby was around six months old and he'd only divorce her five months and twenty-one days ago. So unless she’d given birth right after he left Seattle the baby wasn’t theirs and he’d certainly know if Jo was nine months pregnant before he left. The tally in his head of how long it had been since he left her was a constant reminder of the life he'd left behind. 

“Just because you cut Josephine out of your life doesn't mean that I have to,” Helen said, raising her voice as she twisted her fingers. “When you left she had no one, no family, I still remember the day she called me to say that you had divorced her. Instead of hearing it from you, I heard from my daughter-in-law that my son had two kids and an ex-wife in Kansas and that he was divorcing her to be with them.”

“So what, you just took her side in everything?” Alex said, getting defensive as he crossed his arms.

“I'm not on anybody's side,” Helen insisted, getting more upset. “I let you come stay with me and, I love you, Alex I do, and I love your twins, and I love being a Grandma to them, but I love having Josephine as my daughter-in-law, too. Before your divorce, Josephine and I called each other twice a month and after you left her I continued to call her, she never stopped taking my calls, unlike how you did. It's part of my routine and I'm so gracious that she still lets me be a part of her life. Her one condition was that I couldn't tell you that we were still in contact and I respected that.”

Alex sat down in the chair across from his mom as he processed the information. He didn't know anything about Jo’s life now. Meredith wouldn't tell him anything when they talk, despite how he asked occasionally. 

“I'm sorry, you're right and you have every right to keep in contact with Jo,” Alex said as Helen nodded and relaxed back into her chair. “How is she? The baby, is it hers?”

“Sort of, he’s her foster baby and she’s trying to adopt him. Josephine picked him up from the fire station after his birth parents dropped him off there and she’s been fostering him ever since. His name is Asher, he just turned six months old last week,” Helen said as she smiled and pulled out her phone, she quickly pulled up a picture of them and handed her phone to Alex. 

Jo was holding Asher and they were pressed up against each other cheek to cheek. Jo had such a wide smile across her face, one that he had seen many times when she was joyously happy and it made him smile too. They had been trying for a baby before he left and it made his heartache, despite how happy he was for her. 

“He’s really cute,” Alex said handing the phone back to his mother, but the image remained burned into his mind. 

“Yeah he's such a sweetheart too, always babbling on about something,” Helen said as she looks down at the picture. 

“Why don't you text Jo and tell her that I'm gone. I won't interrupt your video chats again, maybe she'll call back,” Alex said as he got up and went to the door.

“Thank you, Alex,” Helen said standing up and reaching to put a hand on his cheek. 

Alex just nodded and left. He went back down the hall and went back to the pot of sauce, but he couldn't get his mind off the image of Jo and Asher. He looked over at the twins. They were completely engrossed in the game they were playing. It was this water game where they had to draw a path to give water to an alligator so they could take a shower. Alexis was directing Eli's hand and trying to draw the path over him as they argued over the right path for the water. 

“Alexis let your brother create the path for the water this time, you can do the next one,” Alex said to them as he turned the heat on the spaghetti sauce down as it had started bubbling over while he was gone. “But just five more minutes guys and then I need your help to set the table.”

“Okay,” They quickly replied in sync, but didn't look up from their game.

It was easy for Alex to step back into the role of father for his twins and focus on the life he had in front of him, but he couldn't get Jo off his mind. Alex started the water for the pasta set before he got out a stack of four plates and set them on the counter where the kids could reach them. Then he walked back down the hall. Alex pressed his ear up against the door as he heard Jo and Helen talking while Asher babbled in the background. He heard Jo laugh at something that Asher did and he took in a breath as a knot formed in his chest. 

He had regretted his decision to divorce Jo from the second he sent out the papers, but he was too much of a coward to take it back now. Alex loved Alexis and Eli with every fiber of his being and he didn't regret a second of his life with them. He just wished he could go back and tell Jo about them. He wished he would have asked her to co-parent them with him. He wished he would have done all this with her, but he didn't and he couldn't take it back now. So he just stood there and he closed his eyes as he listened to her laugh.

[suchalonelysunflower]

“I know”

(Ashton Irwin X Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff)

Summary: FINAL PART OF THE KNOW YOU SERIES. When everything feels lost, there’s nothing like the rain

Warnings: Strong Language, mentions of: alcohol, abuse, anxiety, depression, toxic relationships. Ansgty and Fluffy. Bad English (not my first language, sorry)

Word Count: 5.2 K

A/N: ITS HERE the last part of my first Ashton series 🥺 I had fun writing this, it helped me a lot. I hope you like it just as much! Reblogs are always appreciate it as well as feedback, I would love to hear your opinions 💙 You can check my other works HERE. Thank you so much 🦋

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Sierra hasn’t heard from you in almost a week. You’re not answering any of her text or attempts to FaceTime and she’s getting really worried. She knows you’re deeply hurting if you went completely MIA. 

Last time she saw you, you were running down the stairs at Ashton’s house, trying to pass the sea of people between you and the door. She remembers calling out your name, and she knows you’ve heard her, since you stopped for a second to look in her direction before turning your face away and walking out the door without saying anything. 

But she already saw the tears on your face. 

Sierra turned to her boyfriend, to confirm that he saw it too, but Luke’s confused gaze was already on her, asking the silent question: ’What the hell happened?’

Luke’s eyes followed the trail you had just walked, but Sierra’s hand was already in his, pulling him so he followed her upstairs. 

“Maybe she was just overwhelmed and needed some space” suggested Luke when they reached the top of the stairs and started walking the hall. 

“Probably, but Luke, I know her. She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye and she looked really upset” Sierra’s voice was filled with concern“Something happened and…” 

Suddenly, they came to a stop when they heard a light sob. It was almost inaudible due to the poundering thunders that came from the sky, but it was there. Luke and Sierra hurried down to the balcony, not knowing what to expect but at the same time not expecting the sight in front of them. 

Ashton was sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the same wall that had you pressed to him just a few minutes ago, when everything just felt right.

 His hair was a mess and his ringed hand covered his eyes as he cried, his shoulders shaking with every sob that came out of his lips. For the first time in a long, long time, the boy who smiled like sunshine was falling apart like the rain. 

Sierra’s first instinct was to go over the broken man and kneel down next to him, putting her delicate hand in his shoulder. Her heart breaking as he lifted his gaze, just enough for her to see how much he’s hurting. 

“Ash?” 

“I fucked up” He said in a broken voice “Sierra, I fucked up so bad” 

That was on Saturday. Today’s Thursday and you still haven’t picked up your phone. Ignoring, not just her, but everyone. Crystal has tried to reach you countless of times, Michael has been hitting your DM’s from every social media (including in the games you played together) Calum and Luke have been spamming you with texts and even tried to lure you in with pictures of Duke and Petunia. And Ashton… well. Ashton was a complete mess, his smile was none existing since that night and, if it weren’t for the fact that they were already working on a new album, he wouldn’t even be seen. “He barely talks to anyone” Luke said to her “He’s just… numb. I haven’t seen him like this in years, he looks just like me before I met you, maybe even worse” 

Sierra tried to call you one more time before hearing the familiar voicemail tone. You were shutting down, and she was scared that the silence meant something else.

Determined, she picked up her phone one more time, but she dialed a different number “Hey” she said, as soon as the other person picked up “Y/N needs our help and I’m not going to wait any longer” 

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

You opened your eyes as the sun warmed your face. You groaned as you got up to close the curtains, ready to submerge yourself under the covers again. But the sound of your growling stomach kinda forced your way into the kitchen. 

Taking in the sight of your apartment, you let out a sad sigh. It was just as messy as you felt. Take out containers (most of them still full) and dirty dishes decorated your kitchen island, your once neat living room had scattered papers all over it, many of them being plain trash that you couldn’t care to throw properly in the bin. You saw the bottle of vodka sitting in the middle of the table and it made you nauseous. This isn’t right. After everything that has happened you thought you finally got a break, that everything was going to be fine. But life has never been easy on you. 

As you poured yourself a cup of coffee, you couldn’t help but stare at the bay window. You couldn’t help but think of him, the way he smiled and the sound of his thousand laughs. How he always cheered you up with a good morning text and how he could spend hours telling you stories about his childhood, in an attempt to distract you from reality. How he was always up for anything you needed, weather it be just listening to you or just needing his company, always making sure you were alright, and you were, with him everything was alright. Then your thoughts wandered over that night. The way he held you, the way he kissed you.. the way he rejected you. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until a tear dropped in the middle of your coffee cup. You haven’t stopped crying since that night. Feeling useless and scared, but most of all, hopeless you would ever find that sense of security and happiness you felt next to him.

It’s impossible to deny how deeply in love you were with Ashton. You tried to hide it, but you were only lying to yourself. You love him and he probably hates you, again. Once again, you felt like you’ve ruined everything. When your lips touched his you felt like you were in cloud 9, everything was coming together, but seeing his face full of regret after that… 

Maybe he was just too drunk, maybe you weren’t what he expected, maybe you should’ve stopped him, maybe he wanted to stop. It was wrong, a ‘mistake’ as he called it. But it felt so right at the moment that you didn’t want it to stop, and maybe that was selfish, but you could’ve died in that kiss and you would’ve died happy, instead of living the pain and the hurt of his disgust and rejection when he pulled away. 

He probably told everyone how you fucked up. Everyone must hate you. In one night you lost everything you ever dreamed to have, and it was your fault. You turned off your phone that night, emailed your boss the morning after, claiming to be sick, but in reality you were just too scared to face the daylight of a world where you had nothing again. Maybe your mother was right and you didn’t deserve happiness after all. 

Finishing your coffee, you tossed the mug in the filthy sink and headed to bed. That’s when you heard the knocking at your door and your breathing stopped. 

You tried to ignore it, but whoever was at the other side was persistent. Against your better judgement, and hoping it was just a neighbor, you opened the door. 

Outside the door you saw Sierra, Crystal and KayKay…oh shit. Your thoughts were running a thousand miles per hour, thinking that they were there to give you shit for what you did. 

Sierra’s eyes winded when she took a sight of you and, without wasting any second, she launched herself towards you and held you in a tight hug. 

“You weren’t answering your phone” she said “we were all so worried about you! We were so scared that you would just disappear and…” 

An overwhelming feeling came over you as the tears spilled down your cheeks. It was all too much. Sierra kept talking, but you couldn’t listen. The others made their way into the apartment, careful to not overstep your boundaries, you noticed they had some bags filled with groceries and your heart shrunked. They weren’t there to hate you, they… they came for you, because they care about you. And you were standing there, numb in the same pajamas from five days ago, with countless bags under your eyes and a messy knotted hair. You didn’t deserve this. 

“Oh, baby” Sierra cooed as she felt you breaking down in tears in her arms “We are here for you, we will always be here for you, Y/N. We love you, it’s okay”

“No, it’s not okay” you said between sobs “I fucked up. I fucked up, it’s not okay. I’m so sorry” 

You kept apologizing, it seemed like you were unable to form another sentence that wasn’t ‘I’m sorry’ but the girls were having none of it “Y/N, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You hear me? Nothing. Stop apologizing, you don’t have to, you don’t need to. Look at me” Sierra pulled away from you and grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at her and the others “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong” 

Her stare was honest, stern and serious. You felt like breaking down again, but KayKay stepped in

“Why don’t we go talk in the living room? Crys and I will put the groceries in the kitchen, I’m assuming you didn’t go shopping this week, Y/N?” you shook your head, she nodded and gave you a sympathetic smile “It’s okay, dear. We got you covered” 

“Y/N, have you been eating enough?” Crystal asked from the kitchen, looking through your take out containers with enough food to feed an army. 

You wiped your tears “I - I don’t know. I don’t remember. I couldn’t…”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay” Sierra said, sliding her hands up and down your arms to calm you down “Don’t worry. Why don’t we go sit, yeah?” You walked into the living room together. Sierra’s eyes were immediately fixed into the bottle of vodka in the middle of the coffee table. You felt ashamed “Y/N, did you..?”

“No” you said quickly “No, I couldn’t. I tried to, yes. But the smell… it reminded me too much of her and I just… I couldn’t” 

The girls were sitting around you. They knew it was bad, but they didn’t image it to the point where you would even consider drinking as an escape. They hated to see you like that. You were the girl with the endless smile, the one who would happily put others before herself, the one that would be there at any time, at any moment. Being the life of every party, or at least in their tight group of friends, the one who has been through hell but came back as strong as ever. You didn’t even seem like yourself, you were broken. And they were determined to try to fix that. 

“Why don’t you tell us everything? It will make you feel better, I promise”

So you took a deep breath and started. You told them how close you and Ashton got during quarantine. How you, even without knowing it at the time, hoped to talk to him everyday, how he made you feel special, the way his smile brightened your day. How you could always tell if he was in a bad mood just by looking at his eyes and not finding their gleam, how he made you feel like you could trust him almost instantly and how glad you were to be friends with him. You told them about the night of the party, how he seemed so happy to see you but acted strange around you and the others, almost like his old self. You told them about the balcony, what you talked about and how you kissed. How happy you were until he said those words. 

“And I know he meant it” you said softly through your tears, like a little kid “it was a mistake, we should’ve never done it, he was right. I fucked up, I should’ve told him to stop, but I…” your voice broke and you were unable to continue, but KayKay stepped in. 

“You didn’t want to” 

You look at her, trying to find a hint of hate inside her eyes “Kay, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Y/N. It’s fine” 

The sincerity in her voice confused you. 

“But.. but he’s your ex and you’re my friend. I could never..”

“Y/N, stop it” She said, placing her hand on your knee “It’s okay. Our relationship ended eons ago and we were never right for each other” she gave you a small smile “I love him, as a friend, just that. We were never meant to be. You want to know how I know that? Because I could never talk about him in the way that you just did, the way you described him and everything he did… you really love him do you?”

Your eyes winded. You didn’t tell them that, hell you weren’t able to tell yourself that until a few days ago. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from nodding. 

“That’s alright. We can all tell how much you love that stupid boy. And I’m okay with that, honey. Really. Our friendship is stronger than that. And besides…” her smile grew “I know he feels the same”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. 

“I talked to him a few times during lockdown, just to check on him. Everytime we talked he mentioned you in some way, weather it was a message you sent him or something funny you said or did, or even just out of nowhere you were always on his mind and, girl, the way his smile lighted up and his eyes shined… I’ve never seen him like that, not even with me, so I knew he was head over heels before he even knew it himself” 

Saying that you were confused was an understatement “But he…”

“Y/N, remember what I told you about him? He never lies about his feelings but…”

“He avoids them” you finished. 

“Sounds like someone we know…” Commented Crystal. 

“And it sounds like you should definitely talk to him!” Sierra chimed in. 

You started to protest but she cut you off. 

“No, I don’t want to hear it. Y/N, I don’t know what that voice in your head tells you, but it’s lying. We are not going to stand here and let you drown, we will not allow it. You deserve your happy ending, you deserve all the love in the world and we love you so so much. How can we get it pass your head? You are not alone, you are loved. We are your family and we will not go anywhere, no matter how much you try to push us away” she raised her thumb to wipe the tears off your face “We will not force you, though. You will talk to him when you’re ready, but you have to talk to him. He’s just as broken as you are, maybe all you need is each other” 

You nodded silently, thanking the universe for putting these amazing people in your life. But fearing the moment you will see Ashton again, not feeling completely confident for that. 

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

Ashton, on his part, was a complete wreck.

He can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t concentrate hard enough on the fact that he has a mini concert in two hours and he didn’t rehearse as much as he should’ve. He can only think of you and the sound of your heels walking away from him. 

It’s been a week since last Saturday and he’s looking at his screen, hoping selfishly that your name would pop out at any second, but knowing damn well it won’t. He tried to message you a couple times, saying how sorry he was, but he could never find the words or the courage to send it, even though he knows he should. Feeling the tears burning in the back of his eyes, he tried hard to contain them. He’s been crying all week, but  knows that now it’s not the best time to let it out. 

He looks around the small room the venue gave them to prepare themselves. He can hear Michael warming up and he spots Luke talking to Sierra in a corner of the room, she’s smiling and he looks so happy. Ashton never wanted to hit that pretty boy’s face till now. 

“You alright, mate?” Asked Calum, pulling him out of his jealous thoughts as he took a seat next to him on the couch “You look like shit” 

“I feel like shit” Ashton averted his gaze back to his phone. 

Calum nodded, choosing to ignore how harsh his comment sounded, knowing how hard this must be for his friend “Still haven’t talked to her?” Ashton looked at him shocked, he didn’t mention to Calum what was happening, only to Luke and Sierra because they caught him crying over Y/N “Luke told me, but to be honest I would’ve figured it out sooner or later” 

Ashton’s voice was soft and filled with guilt and hurt, breaking Calum’s heart as he spoke “Has she told you how incredibly stupid I am?” 

“I don’t need her to tell me that” The bassist gave his friend a small smile that he didn’t return “Besides, she’s not talking to me. She’s not talking to anyone, actually” 

“What?” 

“She’s been ignoring us, turning off her phone and shit. She didn’t talk to anyone after that night.You thought she was only ignoring you?” 

Ashton’s world fell apart right there. Not only did he pushed her away from him, but he pushed her away from the only people he knows she loves the most. He royally fucked up this time and he will never forgive himself for this. Why can’t he stop hurting her? 

“Why do you think she will talk to me, though?” Calum asked after a while. 

“You were always so close” said Ashton in a monotone voice, trying to hide the hint of jealousy he felt towards his best friend “Always with each other and always talking about things none of us understod, so I thought…”

“Woah, you think there’s something between me and Y/N? Dude, no. Never” Calum said in disbelief “She’s amazing, don’t get me wrong and very pretty but she’s also like a sister to me, she reminds me a lot of Mali. And I could never do that knowing that my best friend is in love with her” 

“What!? I..”

“Mate.. c’mon. Isn’t it useless to deny it any longer? We know you love her, it’s clear as the day. You do love her, don’t you?”

Ashton let out a sigh “Why does it matter? She will never feel the same” 

“Now, why do you say that?” 

“Because it’s the fucking truth, Cal” he said, his voice breaking at the end “I hurt her, every time. And she doesn’t deserve that, she.. she wouldn’t want me. She doesn’t want me and I made the stupid mistake of being selfish and kissing her, knowing damn well I shouldn’t have” 

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Because!” He said a little exasperated “Because she started talking about the stars, because she looked absolutely beautiful under the night sky. Because she was kind and she smiled at me in a way that I felt like the world was ending because there’s no way something as pure and beautiful as her could be smiling at me that way after everything I put her through” he sighed “Because when I kissed her I felt like I was were I meant to be and I never wanted to let go. Because I’m a selfish asshole, because I’m in love with her. And because of that I ended up hurting her, again” 

Calum placed his hand on Ashton’s shoulder, patting it a little bit before saying “Then it’s your job to fix it, mate. She’s hurting, but I don’t think it’s because the same reason you think”

“Wh- what do you mean?”

“Talk to her” 

Ashton felt like there was more to say, but they were interrupted by the stage manager asking them to follow them because the show was about to start. 

He definitely wasn’t in the right headspace to play. Too many thoughts and emotions running through his head, to many questions without answers. Maybe when he sits on the stool and starts playing it might help him forget a little bit, but it was useless. 

 He could still feel your lips against his, and could still hear your little moan in between. He had you tattooed in his memory, the sound of your voice as his favorite melody. He loves you, but knows he shouldn’t. As he was playing he thought of you with so much passion, in every way and form, that he could almost swear he saw you at the side of the stage. But it wasn’t until Sarah gave you a hug that Ashton realized that you were actually there. 

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

You made eye contact with Ashton as he was playing one of their new songs on stage. His eyes winded when he spotted you and immediatly started to look around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You were there, and you were starting to regret it. Maybe this wasn’t the right place, maybe he didn’t want to see you, maybe…

But then he looked at you again, and you felt like the rest of the world faded away, in that moment it was only you and him. Asking, wondering, loving, hoping without saying a word. That was the moment that seemed to last eternally. 

You held his gaze until he had to look away, breaking the spell that caught you both. You tried to concentrate in the concert and the other boys, but your attention drifted to Ashton and, every time he could, he would look at you, almost afraid that you would disappear. 

The concert ended and Ashton was the first one offstage. He came to you rather quickly and still filled with adrenally “We need to talk. Can we talk?” He asked with pleading eyes. 

You nodded and let him guide you, people were trying to talk to him, but he ignored them all and didn’t even attempt to stop until you reached the rooftop of the venue. 

It was a very windy night, so you wrapped your arms around yourself, though you weren’t sure if you were shivering from the cold or from the nerves. Ashton closed the door and turned to look at you, properly this time. He was sweating and panting due to the energy he displayed on stage, but he couldn’t feel a thing, not now because you were right there in front of him, looking like a dream he would never want to wake up from. 

“Ash..” “Y/N” you said at the same time.

“Me first?” You said, he closed his mouth and nodded. Not sure if he wanted to hear what you got to say. You took a deep breath and started talking before you chicken out. 

“I should hate you” you spatted “I should hate you, but I can’t” Ashton’s features visibly relaxed for a bit, scared of what might come next “I can’t because I miss you so damn much. I miss talking to you everyday. I find myself waiting for your name to pop up on my screen randomly, knowing it will make me smile. I didn’t mean to get so attached to you in so little time given than last year you were practically a stranger to me, you wouldn’t talk to me or even acknowledge me for years and I let it pass. I let it pass, not only because I didn’t understand it, but because I hoped one day you would notice me. When you said those things, I should’ve hated you back then, but I couldn’t and I didn’t. When you came to apologize I said I couldn’t do it yet, I was wrong. I forgave you that day without even realizing it because I can’t hate you, Ashton.” 

You took a breath, trying to hold the tears that were threatening to escape “Then we became friends, and against my better judgement I let you in in my life and you let me in in yours because you made it so easy to trust you. I knew that one day that would’ve happen eventually, us becoming friends, and I wanted nothing more than that. What I didn’t know is that I would end up falling in love with you” 

Ashton’s eyes winded at your confession his expression going from confused to shock to sad in less than one second, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but he held it in, knowing you weren’t done. So you continued.

“I love you, Ash. I know it might seem rushed, but I never lie about my feelings, I avoid them. And that’s exactly what I was doing before that night. Ashton when you kissed me…” you closed your eyes for a second, trying to find the words “I felt home. I felt safe around your arms like I’ve never felt before. I wanted it to be endless, I didn’t want to let go but then.. you did” you looked him in the eyes “I knew there was a possibility you didn’t feel the same, I won’t hold that against you. You are free to feel whatever you want and I know that I’m not perfect in any single way and I can’t even attempt to compete for your affection. I was always scared this would be something temporary and as I told you before, I’m used to mess it all up and to people walking out of my life, every one of them giving me a reason why. So I’m here to ask you: Why?” 

Ashton looked at you, confused “Why?” He asked 

“Why did you kiss me? Why did you pull away?” You said “Ashton, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely function as a human being. So please, answer me so we can be at peace with each other. Maybe it won’t hurt that much this way” 

Ashton couldn’t believe it, you really didn’t know? You think he would leave? Did you want him to? 

“I kissed you because I wanted to do that for the longest time” he started, taking a step closer to you without breaking eye contact “I pulled away because I felt like it was for the best” 

“For the best?”

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N” 

Now it was your turn to be shocked. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N, since the day we met I’ve done nothing but hurt you. I refused the idea of getting to know you like everyone else did and for what? It’s still one of the biggest regrets of my life. I know I hurt you when I said those things, I still beat myself up everyday because of that. I don’t know why I did it, what was the intention besides hurting you. I didn’t know you and you made that very clear that day” You could see he was starting to get frustrated, but not with you “You said you forgive me, I’m saying I don’t deserve that” his voice was clear, but the hint of pain betrayed him “Getting to know you was and still is one of the greatest experiences of my life, you let me in when I should’ve stayed in the streets, I could never thank you enough for that. Your calls were the best part of my day, hearing your voice or seeing a text from you made me feel like the luckiest man on earth, I felt like heaven because I had you in my life and you made it worth living. Y/n, I fell for you so hard that I don’t think I’ve known love until I met you” Your breathing stopped as he said those words, your heart beating up so strongly you were afraid it might explode on your chest.

“But then I saw how you were with the others, how they were always so close and I felt like I was always ten steps behind. Y/N, I was jealous of everything we didn’t have and what we will never have and I know that sounds horrible because it was my fault to begin with. But seeing you with them made me realize just how undeserving I am of you” 

“Ashton…”

“I’m not good for you” he said sternly. His eyes were glossy with the tears he was holding, but they never left yours “I’ve known that from the start and still I selfishly hoped that one day I will be, but we both know that’s not the case. You should be with someone that doesn’t hurt you, someone that will bring smiles instead of tears, someone like Cal or Luke or Michael. I can’t… I will never be good enough for you. I knew all of that when I kissed you that night, and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t know what I was doing or that I didn’t want it, because I did, I still do. But I can’t do that to you, even though it kills me, I don’t deserve you” 

“Stop saying that” you said.

“Y/N..”

“Stop saying that! It’s not true!” You yelled at him “Who are you to tell me what’s good for me or not?! Who gave you the right to decide that?” He tried to talk but you shushed him raising your hand “ You’re telling me that you love me that you can’t be with me?! Like I’m a price or a toy? They are my emotions too, Ashton! I should have a say on it, don’t you think? I can’t believe you” 

“What do you want me to say?!” He raised his voice as well “Do you know how much it hurts seeing you in pain and knowing that I was the once who caused it?”

“You’re being selfish”

“So what if I am!” He raised his arms in exasperation “I’m scared Y/N! I’m scared I will ruin everything again and break your heart!” 

“Then don’t!” You yelled, louder “don’t break my heart, Ashton” your voice was softer now “I want to be with you, I love you! Is it that hard to love me?” 

Ashton looked at you. Your eyes were filled with tears and fear, and even though you were shivering from the cold, he swore you couldn't look more beautiful. His eyes softened as he came closer to you “Loving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done” 

In a brave move, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, pressing your lips together once again. 

Scared at first, Ashton closed his eyes into the kiss, relaxing when he felt your hands play with the back of his head, twirling your fingers in his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up in tight hug. Taking advantage of your little gasp to push his tongue into your mouth, making himself home. 

You melted into the kiss once again, swearing you could see every color and every star, you felt infinite as you pressed against him. Taking everything you can form each other, memorizing the way you tasted and how good you felt. You threw away every meaningless fear you had, now it wasn’t the time to overthink. You loved him, and he loved you, that was all that mattered at this moment. 

You hummed into the kiss when you felt a drop of water hit your cheek. At first you thought it was one of yours or Ashton’s tears, but when one drop became a thousand you realized that it was actually raining. 

Ashton broke the kiss but rested his forehead against yours. He held a smile so wide that made you feel like the luckiest person on earth just for being a witness of that. 

“This is so cliché” he laughed. 

You giggled “I always liked the rain. It means new beginnings, a fresh start. It helps you grow as you go. It reminds me of a home I never had until I fell right into your arms” 

“Well” Ashton said, kissing your forehead “Let this be the statement of our new beginning, because I am completely in love with you, Y/N. I know I am selfish for saying that, knowing that I will never fully deserve you. But I can’t help it, love. And I will do everything in my power to prove it to you, every single day of my life. Y/N, you make me want to be a better man. I want to know you for the rest of my life” 

You kissed him one more time, happiness taking over you as your heart fluttered with his words, smiling into the kiss “I love you” 

The rain kept falling, sealing your promise into solid ground. And as you walked back in hand in hand, you thought that, finally, your life came together. Finally allowing you to be completely and overwhelmingly happy. 

[nazyalenskyism]

The Love of My Life When... (Part 5)

Ao3: The Love of My Life When... Tumblr: The Love of My Life When... Summary: Part 5 of The Love of My Life When… a Zoyalai fic. | The call that neither of them wanted to make reminds them of their favourite moments together. And maybe, just maybe, they begin to realize what they want. A/N: Here’s part 5! It’s been a while since the last chapter, so thank you for keeping up with it! All your comments and feedback are amazing and I love reading them ❤️❤️

Audrey said she saw you out past twelve o'clock Just because you're hurting doesn't mean I'm not If it doesn't go away by the time I turn thirty I made a mistake and I'll tell you I'm sorry "Sorry"

        “Ugh,” Zoya groaned, peeling off her shiny silver heels, collapsing in her favourite armchair. It had been an exhausting night, they had been putting together some of the final details for Tamar and Nadia’s wedding, as it was in two weeks. Of course, that had only been the first half of the night, the second had involved going to the club. Zoya threw a blanket over herself, considering sleeping in the chair, that was how tired she was.

        Before she could nod off however, there was one last thing she had to do. Calling Nikolai after the disaster in the park, seemed like the worst idea she could fathom. She knew Genya was the one who’d orchestrated the whole thing. Setting her and Nikolai up to be partners for the whole wedding weekend. She would have to share her duties with him, walk down the aisle with him at the end of the wedding, be his partner for the ridiculous flashmob Tamar had planned as a surprise to Nadia and the even more ridiculous flashmob Nadia had planned as a surprise to Tamar. Because that totally wasn’t going to end in flames. She didn’t want to do this, but she had to. It wasn’t for her, it was for her friends, and she would do this, even if she would much rather do anything else in the world. At least the drinks at the bar had lowered her inhibitions to the point that she could do this without wanting to cry. That’s how she usually felt when Nikolai was mentioned these days.

        “Come on Koja,” she called, smiling softly at the grey cat who jumped into her lap, curling contentedly under Zoya’s loving stroke of her soft head. Koja had been yet another gift from Nikolai’s birthday week celebrations for her. Zoya let out a small laugh, remembering how excited he’d been to give her the cat, how infectious his joy was. He was amiable with everyone, but he never let anyone see his true goofiness but her. She missed a lot of things that she tried to pretend she didn’t, but most of all she missed him. Some days she missed him so much she felt like it was breaking her from the inside out. She knew she would be fine without him, but as each day passed, she had to wonder, ‘did she want to be without him?’

        No. Her decision was final. She was Zoya Nazyalensky and she would not change her mind, no matter what her traitorous heart said. She would not back away from her duties, especially not after Genya had spammed her with 21 texts and 12 calls all telling her to, “Nazyalensky up and just call Nikolai already.”

        “Well Koja, time to call Nikolai,” she murmured, feeling a pang in her chest as the cat’s ears perked up at the sound of her favourite person’s name. “I can do this.”

                                                   ***

        “Ugh,” Nikolai groaned, collapsing into the hammock in front of his bedroom’s window, overlooking the city and the edges of the bay. He usually slept in his bed, but on nights where he particularly missed the sea, he would sleep in the hammock, the gentle rocking and distant view of the water helping him fall asleep. A soft whine sounded from the floor and Nikolai saw his puppy, Sobachka pouting up at him, clearly wanting to sleep on top of his owner, as usual. He was lucky he was still a puppy, if he were any bigger he would’ve crushed Nikolai in his sleep or tumbled out of his hanging bed. He sighed, knowing he didn’t have it in him to reject the dog’s pleas tonight. He settled back into a comfortable position, Sobachka’s floppy gold ears resting beneath his chin. Nikolai wanted nothing more than to go to sleep after an exhausting day of gathering things for the wedding. Unfortunately, he had one more thing to take care of tonight. He opened his phone, gathering his courage to call before he saw a slew of notifications for his Instagram dms, all from someone named Audrey who he vaguely remembered going to uni with.

        ‘Nikolai! It’s Audrey.’

        ‘I think I saw Zoya at the club tonight’

        ‘She was wearing silver and black’

        ‘You guys aren’t still together, right?’

        ‘Anyways she was there with some guy? look at this pic, it was 1:30 am.’

        Attached to the last message was an image that Nikolai clicked and when he zoomed in, he saw that it was taken at a club, Zoya wearing a slinky silver dress, her hand on the shoulder of a tall guy in a suit, trailing him out of the club. He let out a sigh. He hadn’t thought Zoya would move on from them so quickly, but regardless of that, he knew he ought to be happy that she was happy. No matter what, he wanted that for her. Although… as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He wasn’t jealous, there was nothing to be jealous about, she wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers, but he just wanted… he wanted what he could never have. And he was a fool for that.

        Sobachka barked at the ringing of the phone, and Nikolai frowned, had she read his mind? “Hi.”

        “Lantsov, Genya says we need to go over our duties for the wedding.”

        “And you want to do that now? At almost 3 AM? How did you even know if I would be awake?”

        “Oh please, you and David were helping Nadia with something sciencey tonight, and you never sleep well, not without—” she stopped mid sentence, realizing that this time she was the one who’d let something slip.

        He had trouble sleeping, he always had, and for some reason, he’d found that if he played piano before bed, it almost always helped him sleep. He had his own piano room at his place, but Zoya had bought him a keyboard for when he stayed at her’s.

        “How do you know I haven’t played tonight?” he asked, attempting to gloss over the awkward pause.

        “Please, Nadia texted me when she dropped you both off home, and if you played the piano at 3 AM your stupid neighbour would’ve called ME complaining and telling you to shut up.”

        “That’s fair,” he sighed. “So… what were you up to before this? Out at the club?” Oh, he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Maybe his lack of sleep was affecting him.

        “Tamar actually— wait how did you know that?”

        He hesitated, “I saw you walking out of the club with some guy in a suit.”

        “Some guy?”

        “Some guy,” he confirmed.

        “You IDIOT that was TOLYA.”

        Nikolai let out a dry laugh, “and that’s what I get for paying attention to Audrey.”

        “Audrey? I think she tried to get me to join her pyramid scheme… she only stopped when I pretended to be a part of another one and tried to recruit her.”

        “Intriguing! And what were the results?”

        “She blocked me on all social media, tried to convince Genya that I was going to steal David and that I stole Adrik from her.”

        “Huh.”

        “Yeah.”

        “So about the rehearsal dinner—”

        “Lantsov,” he heard her take in a deep breath, “I know this might be hard for you… but don’t you think it was hard for me too?”

        “You cut things off so easily, I didn't think that it was,” he said slowly. He didn’t know what had brought on Zoya’s forthcoming mood but he wasn’t about to ruin it.

        “It’s not easy for me! Seeing you out with other people… I’m hurting too,” she finished sharply, and Nikolai felt his throat tighten, his careful attitude flying out the window.

        “What if this was a mistake? What if the reason you’re unhappy is because this isn’t what you wanted?”

        After a long pause, Zoya spoke up again, “No. It was the right thing to do. I’m not changing my mind. If, by the time I’m 30, I somehow regret it, I’ll tell you I’m sorry. But it won’t matter then, Nikolai, because you’ll be married and happy and living the life you were supposed to have before you met me.”                               He didn’t have anything to say to that.

        Zoya waited for Nikolai to say something, and was surprised when all he said was, “okay, Zoya. So for the rehearsal dinner, I was thinking I could set up my stuff at 5, and you can start at 6, since I’m driving up first. That leaves us enough time to double check everything before the dinner. Then for the ceremony, you’re walking in with Nadia, we just have to practice walking out, and how we’re setting up the reception. Genya said she’s going to email all that to us in the morning.”

        “That sounds good,” she said.

        “Good. Well, I guess that’s it then. I should—”

        “Wait. Nikolai…” she didn’t know what to say… she just wanted to say something to him, something to let him know how she felt, but she couldn’t find the right words.

        “I know, Zoya,” and she could imagine him smiling softly, despite how she continued to step on his heart. “I know. Goodnight.”

        “Goodnight,” she echoed faintly, waiting until the line clicked on his end to bring the phone back to her face and whisper, “sorry,” a quiet sob shaking her body.

                                                   ***

        Nikolai pulled a hand through his hair, even more confused than before. Everything Zoya said was what he expected her to say— but her behaviour confused him, and if he didn’t know any better he would think that she didn’t want to still be broken up. But if there was anything he could rely on, it was that she was Zoya Nazyalensky, and she wouldn’t change her mind. Still, that didn’t stop him from remembering what it had been like before all this.

        The way she used to put her head on his chest as the hammock rocked. How he used to tell her stories about the sea and the year he’d spent on a boat with Tolya and Tamar before he’d met her. She always wanted to know more about the lives he’d lived, and in return for his stories, she would whisper secrets in his ear, not even trusting the wind as much as she trusted him. Some nights, curled in the hammock, Zoya would point out the constellations, teaching him what her aunt had taught her, while other nights, she would clear out the furniture in her living room and demand, with her hands on her hips, that Nikolai teach her how to dance--she refused to let him excel in something she knew she could best him in. And so he’d taught her. And in return, she’d taught him how to ice skate, the one thing he had never tried, holding his hands the entire time, regardless of how much she’d teased him. He had been terrible, utterly terrible, but as he’d watched Zoya skate perfectly backwards, all while helping him, he had realized that he would never find this again. This was it for him. She was it for him.

        His hopeless heart had only gotten ensnared worse when he’d made her a traditional dish he’d learned about in Russia, the only thing he knew how to cook well, and she had looked at him with so much ferocity, wanting to know how to cook it for herself. She was a worse cook than him, and had never quite managed it, despite his teachings. So she would call him whenever she was stressed and wanted her comfort food, although she never said that, he could always tell. She’d come to rely on him, trust him, in the same way he had relied on her, trusted her. He’d given her his heart-- but in the end he had been mistaken. His heart was closely guarded and despite Zoya’s warnings not to, he’d given himself to her completely. The pain he felt now was his own fault, and he didn’t know if it would ever truly go away.

                                                       ***

        Zoya couldn’t sleep either, and no piano melody would help bring her closer to it either. On the nights she could sleep, she found herself in the same situation, she dreamed of him, and only him. The press of his fingers against her arms when he steadied her after she’d drank too much. Warm kisses to her head when she was sick and couldn’t leave the bed, or protest his soft actions. His calloused fingers brushing back her hair in the moments after she shared her frustrations. The distance he stumbled back— as if he’d been struck in the chest when she had said she couldn’t do it anymore. The distance from his apartment, where she’d stayed each night to her own, cold and alone on the other side of town. The hurt in his eyes when she’d twisted the knife further, saying that she would have never been able to care for him— love him in the way he did for her. The pain that passed over his otherwise neutral features when he’d realized that she was yet another person who he’d let himself love, only for his love to never be reciprocated. The boy he’d shown her, who collected scars he didn’t deserve, retreated back into a man who had a collection of scars whose stories she would spend a lifetime forgetting. Whose hands she would spend a lifetime trying to forget. Whose love she would spend forever mourning. For all that she’d said to Nikolai to make him forget her, she was beginning to realize that if Nikolai would have her back, she would gladly go.

        “Sorry,” she repeated softly, even though he couldn’t hear her, she vowed that she would make things right, even if he didn’t want her again, she knew she owed him that much. She was Zoya Nazyalensky and she wanted to change her mind, to listen to what her traitorous heart said, but only if that’s what he wanted too.

[multific]

Honeymoon

Chris Evans x Reader

Requested by:  gjessica98 

Request: Y/N and Chris just got married a few hours ago. And they’re going on their private jet to their honeymoon destination to Dubai. Y/N wants to spend time with him. But Chris is always on the phone 📱 talking to his management crew for his new movie or something like. It makes Y/N mad and they fight. (They used to fight before but this is worst fight they never had) which almost makes Y/N return home but Chris stopped her. And ends with a fluff. 😄

 Your wedding.

The most beautiful and happiest day of your life.

Chris was as handsome as ever in his suit. And the fact that you made him tear up, was the cherry on top. You felt gorgeous, and you made sure you really were. The dress was everything you dreamt about, thanks to your parents. The whole wedding was just as you always wanted it to be. From top to bottom everything was as you wanted and imagined it would be.

Chris and you couldn’t stop smiling through the whole thing. Your faces hurt.

But things slowly started to change. As after the wedding was over, all of your guests left and you said all your goodbyes, you went on a private jet to your honeymoon.

On the plane Chris was on his phone all the time, texting and calling his management. To be honest it really didn’t bother you that much. So, you decided to watch a movie and fell asleep halfway through. You knew he will put the phone down and be with you when it really mattered.

But you were wrong.

Even after landing in Dubai and getting to your hotel room the calls and texts never stopped.

You figured you’d let the first night go and give Chris time to finish his work. Meanwhile, you had an amazing bath and enjoyed the breath-taking view the hotel had. While you were in the bath Chris joined you and you were delighted. You had a heated night that lasted until the early mornings.

The next day you planned sightseeing and eating in a nice restaurant. But as you were walking in the gorgeous city but the constant ringing of your husband's phone started to really annoy you and the fact that he always picked it up, further annoyed you. One time you were ready to take the perfect selfie when his phone rang. Without any hesitation, he picked up the phone. That made you sad.

You knew Chris loved his job and was really important to him, but you hoped your honeymoon would be just as if not more important for him. He had his moments when he truly showed you just how much he cared at the beginning of your week at the honeymoon, but on the third day, Chris completely jumped into work. When you woke up that morning, he was on his laptop and phone, working. You thought you’ll be patient and hoped he would stop.

But even after breakfast, he continued with his calls and emails. He stopped paying attention to you and concentrated on his work.

“Chris, can we go to the pool please?” you asked him, desperate to spend time with him outside the hotel room.

“One moment, Y/N. I need to finish this.”

“Okay, well I’ll go anyway.” you assumed he didn’t even hear that part. Chris knew you brought a rather sexy bikini to go to the pool to and he even warned you wearing it when he wasn’t around or with you.

This was your plan and probably best shot to get him off his work.

You put the beautiful bikini on and grabbed a towel with a bag of your essentials and headed out.

“I’ll be down if you are looking for me. I highly doubt it though.” you said as you closed the door behind you and grabbed the key card.

Your hotel room had the perfect view at the pool, so if Chris would looking for you, all he will have to do is check outside. You even sat down at a place where you are at perfect view.

You decided to order a nice cocktail and get a tan for yourself.

You were down for like two hours when the pool chair beside yours moved as someone sat down. You thought it might be Chris but as you looked over, a gorgeous ginger man sat beside you. He was quite muscular and had a handsome face.

“Hi.” and he was Australian. His accent was thick and quite sexy.

“Hello.”

“Such a pretty lady, alone?”

“Well, my dear husband decided that his work is more important than our honeymoon.”

“Oh. Such a shame, truly. Well, at least I’m here to entertain a pretty lady like yourself.”

“What makes you think I need to be entertained?”

“Easy, you are often gazing at that particular window, so I assume that is your room where your husband must be. You have quite a nice tan, so you must have spent some time here and the fact that you look bored out of your mind proves my point, Miss…?”

“Clever. My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Lovely name, my name is Andrew. Let me get you another cocktail.”

Andrew and you had been chatting for some time now. Sure he made some flirtatious jokes, Andrew never once made a move. As it turned out he was in Dubai for business. You had a really great time with him, you almost forgot about Chris, almost.

As it got dark you headed up to the room.

You found Chris still in front of his laptop.

“I’m back.” you said but he didn’t respond. You took a bath to get rid of the pool water dried on your skin.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and noticed just how amazing your skin looked. After you came out Chris was still working.

“How did you enjoy yourself down there?” he asked obviously bitter.

“Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me! I saw you and your little boyfriend! Very nice man, talking to someone else’s wife like it’s nothing! And you were giggling like a little school girl.”

“No, Chris! You don’t get to do that! You are the one who has been ignoring me all day! You are the one who has been taking calls instead of spending time with me! You are the one who hasn’t been behaving like a husband! I gave you time, I really did, but you said that on the honeymoon you won’t take any calls or nothing!” you got angrier and angrier, but you didn’t want to disturb the other guests so you kept your voice low. But your disappointment was still visible and you were on the brick of crying. Chris was accusing you left and right yet he didn’t even pay attention to you.

“This was a mistake!”

“What? Not spending time with me?”

“No, marrying you.” Chris said as he sat on the bed, looking at you with a disappointed look in his eyes. “You are unfaithful on the first week… this is not what I expected from you, Y/N.”

“Unfaithful? Me, unfaithful?” your head was spinning as you couldn’t believe his words. “Fuck you, Evans. Really, Fuck. You. How dare you say this? I tried to take you to places, get you off your damn phone, yet all you do is text and call. We could have had our honeymoon at a different time, yet you wanted to come as soon as the wedding was over. So, I don’t understand why are you acting like this? You ignored me all day and all of our other days were pretty bad too. It’s obvious you care about your work more than me.” Chris didn’t say a thing as you packed your suitcase. You only packed the essentials and headed down. You knew it will be rather difficult to get to the airport and home at a time like this, but you needed to get away from Chris as soon as possible.

You made it to the airport rather quickly but since the ticket windows were closed, you couldn’t buy a ticket home, so you settled down at a bench.

As the adrenaline left your system you realized what just happened. Chris thought you were unfaithful and prioritized his work over his own wife when he told you he’d not take a single call.

You were scared. Although beside a few guards around the airport, you were alone, the fact that your marriage might have lasted for a shorter time than a week scared you more than a potential burglar. Somehow you managed not to cry although your chest hurt a lot.

Hours went by like that.

“Y/N?” you heard his voice, at first you looked at him but as a second later you decided to give him the cold shoulder and ignore him like how he did for the last three days.

“Honey, I’m really sorry, please come back to the hotel with me. I behaved like a real dick. I got jealous when I saw you with that man, and took my anger out on you when I should have paid more attention to you. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I promise I won’t do it anymore. I will turn my phone off and be with you, please I love you.”

Tears escaped your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness, rather from frustration.

“Wasn’t so hard now was it?” you asked as you stood up and hugged him.

It took a bit of time to get back to the hotel. And once you were in front of your hotel door, the heated make-out session and the even more heated night started.

You were very happy that Chris actually kept his word and turned off all his devices. You finally could take selfies with him. You had lunch at a wonderful restaurant.

“Honey, I must tell you this. I made our stay here longer. I figured since I was an idiot and wasted three days, we will stay for another week and do whatever you want!” he said during lunch. You couldn’t believe him.

“For real?”

“Yes!” his smile brightened your day further.

Chris really is the best husband one can wish for.

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[dreamgloe]

808s & heartbreak | chapter one

as newly minted staff producer at bighit, you are lucky for the opportunity but even luckier when you catch the artistic (and otherwise) attention of one of its most formidable artists. however, a past you’ve condemned to remain as such has threatened to drag you back out to sea.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: idolverse warnings: angst, some fluff, possible adult content in future chapters words:  10,760 author’s note: remember, side a is fic feels, side b is songs mentioned or song inspiration. this was a long time coming and eventually i’ll put a link out to a full spotify playlist. would love feedback, thoughts, asks, etc. i’m really soft for (1) min yoongi. thank u for coming to my fic and my ted talk.

SIDE A: Dreamer by Axwell /\ Ingrosso | Give Yourself A Try by The 1975 | Do My Thang by Miley Cyrus | Dance To This by Troye Sivan ft. Ariana Grande | DNA by Kendrick Lamar | Star by Bazzi  SIDE B: Anti- by Jvcki Wai | Gossip Folks (ft. Ludacris) by Missy Elliott | Ay (ft. Silly Boot) by Hash Swan | Tear by BTS | Outro: Do You Think It Makes Sense? | Supernova by HTHAZE

It was an honest mistake.

That’s what they said anyway. But it wasn't really that honest. 

After you had submitted all of your materials, you found the detail that probably should have stopped you from submitting. ‘Male. Born 1998 and after.’ Some could claim that you saw it, didn’t care, and submitted anyways. But you submitted under the songwriting category and your singing of the song wasn’t a red flag at all. Could have been your sister, a friend, anyone.

But it was you.

And when you showed up to your second round audition with nothing but a microphone, your looper, and a cascade of messy hair under a beanie--your best one you would say, you weren’t an animal--you were looked at in confusion. Everyone was too shocked to say anything as you quickly got into your song, clearly intrigued with your set up. Laying down a few quick vocal beats and harmonies over one another, you launched into the lyrics. Music was usually the one thing that didn’t provoke a stream of anxiety and apprehension.

It wasn’t hard for you to get taken away by your own music. It was only a verse and a hook but you made it feel like it lasted forever. At least, it had felt like that long to you.

‘Magical mystery nights, fairy lights. You looked at me like I was one of the sights. I always think of your soju-breath that night, And how you said our love was worth the fight.’

It was easy to pour the emotion into the song as you sang, even though you’d rather die than consider yourself a performer. Singing one of your more intimate, personal original songs was always a risk but hopefully it was one that would pay off. The moment made you think of a quote your sister would often recite to you, one by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.

“Well-behaved women rarely make history.”

You always took that quote to mean in a male dominated industry, playing it safe would never get you noticed. This moment in time could either change your life or set you back a few steps. When you finished, you used your toe to turn down the sound and turn off the looper. You couldn’t hear anything but your own breath among the silence. You were sure they would dismiss you because you were a girl and not a boy. It was a blessing and a curse that your parents gave you a unisex name.

An older man with glasses sat at the table next to a younger woman probably in her late thirties. They looked at you in silence while glancing down at the papers in front of them.

“Y/L/N Y/F/N,” the man says with a chuckle, peering over his glasses at page, presumably with your submitted information on it.

He said something into the woman next to him’s ear and she nodded before taking a few notes in her own notebook. You couldn’t hear what they said but you know what was coming. You held the microphone that connected to your looper tightly in your hand.

You took the risk...but it wasn’t paying off.

“I take it that it was you singing on your first audition tape, then?” he asked. You looked for a sign that didn’t lead to disappointment but you couldn’t read his face. You knew exactly what he was digging for.

“Yes, it was,” you said simply and honestly. You could feel yourself pressing the balls of your feet into the wooden floor below you. Another rejection under your belt, you could feel it coming. You’d auditioned for one or two other small companies, ones that were geared more towards hip hop but they went in other directions. BigHit was the only other company you really wanted to work with. You could feel your eyes prickle at the nervous anticipation buzzing through you right now

“You know the audition notice said we were looking for males, right?” he asked, the woman next to him interlocking her fingers in front of her on the table. Your hand started to sweat around the microphone while your your free hand reached up to untangle a knot at the ends of your long hair.

“I did...after it was too late,” you said, laughing at yourself, trying to smooth over the situation, “I’m obviously not very good at reading directions.” It was true. The moment you pressed send, you then realized they were only looking for males. They were obviously looking for more guys for whatever group they were trying to put together. You’d heard they were holding additional auditions just in case, even though they already had a lineup they were working with. You were in fact not male and you were born in 1996, two years old than what they were looking for. You couldn’t stand the silence from both of them, so you continued against your mind’s better judgment. “I didn’t expect to even hear back,” you said, “So when I did...I thought, why not?”

“Hmmm,” was all the man said. It was the woman’s turn to whisper something to the older man. He sighed and shuffled all his papers together.

“Despite the minor deceit, it’s obviously that you are talented. We’d love to have you meet with some of our producers and if that goes well, possibly the talent we think you’d be a great fit working with,” he said. You didn’t know if you heard had correctly but when the woman smiled at you, your stomached settled slightly and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” you say, bowing to both the man and woman.

“We will email you to set up a meeting with part of our producer team. It was really refreshing to see a talented young woman such as yourself come in,” the woman said, speaking for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile back at her. There was something in the woman’s eye that you could grasp. Pride? A common acknowledgment between women in the music industry?

You hoped it was all the above.

Your meeting with the producing team happened two weeks later. It was at 4pm on a Tuesday and you had loaded up as USB drive, your iPad, your laptop with everything you could think of bringing. You overprepared, putting all of your devices into your bulky, plain backpack. You had the ugly thing since high school and couldn’t bear to part with it. It probably had a few cough drops at the bottom from your last year of high school, maybe a granola bar hidden one of the million of pockets. But that was fine because you had everything you needed. Hopefully you’d be able to provide that to the people you’d be meeting with.

Before leaving your apartment, you looked in the mirror. You wore a royal blue sweatshirt, dark black jeans, some sleek boots with cutouts on the side. With your signature beanie--the one you wore to your audition--you knew that this was as good as you were going to get. You weren’t very girly and sometimes, you felt self-conscious about it. But you felt at your most comfortable and at ease when you were in jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. You felt cozy and you could feel your anxiety quickly slipping away. But you hated to admit that you didn’t even own a dress. You thought to yourself, though, because wasn’t like you were going to wear one or a suit of any kind to this meeting. You were meeting with music producers, for God’s sake. You still wanted to impress, though. This could be your chance to work with one of the most buzzed about music companies in the country, one that you actually admired.

And you were lucky when they didn’t kick you out at the audition for not reading directions.

You easily arrived at the Big Hit offices. When you checked in, you were given a water bottle and asked to wait. Two minutes past four, you were ushered into a conference room with six people already sitting at a sleek, modern conference table. Everyone at the table got up to shake your hand and you reciprocated, bowing in respect as you did so. After taking a seat, the woman who was in your audition came in, shut the door, and sat at the head of the table. Everyone quickly settled in for the meeting.

“Everyone, this is Y/L/N Y/F/N, the one we found through the open audition,” the woman said, smiling. A bit of excitement shifted through the group. You smiled at the group, gripping the hem of your sweatshirt tightly, needing something to hold on to in order to not just internally combust.

“Oh she’s the one that couldn’t read the audition notice?” one of the producers asks. He looks nice enough, wears glasses, and looks like he hasn’t ever worn a suit in his entire life. You try not to look embarrassed but it’s hard not to when a handful of the other producers laugh.

“Yes, she is.” the woman says, “but it’s hard to ignore talent. I know some of you have seen the tape but we’ll play it again as a quick refresher.” You wait until the lights go out and the video is pulled up to hide your face in your fingers. You hated watching yourself on tape and listening to your singing voice. The tape started up, showing you almost tripping over the cord of your looper mic.  

You heard the lyrics come through the conference room speakers and you wanted to disappear. Seeing other people react to a video of you projected onto a big screen, singing a rather personal song, made your stomach clench and the breath catch in your throat. You’d hoped that someone would whisper or talk to the person next to them while the video was playing to ease the tension in your head and in your heart but everyone remained silent until the lights came back up.

“Wow,” said a voice. You saw a woman, probably the only other female producer at Big Hit. The one who went by ADORA. She definitely had been one of your inspirations to audition. The only female staff producer at Big Hit.

All  the producers were starting to talk amongst one another, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sweat appearing. You looked from the female executive from your audition to the rest of the group, letting your eyes wander around the room, too embarrassed to keep your vision in one place. Why were you like this? Couldn’t even confidently take a compliment.

“I’m glad that you all could meet with Y/N today. I wanted to get everyone together to get to know her. I also asked her to bring some of her other work. I know we are about to gear up on some big projects and I thought she might be a good addition to the production team,” she continued.

A tall man sitting towards the middle raised his hand to speak, “Why don’t you play some of your work. Maybe the full length version from your audition song and maybe one of your favorites?”

“Sure,” you said, trying not to fumble with the backpack between your legs. You push yourself out to get into the bag. You grabbed your laptop, trying not to make a bunch of noise while doing so but failing, and pulled up the full length file of your audition song. Testing the volume, it’s definitely loud enough for all the producers in the room to hear it. With a quick breath, you press play. While your looper played a part in the recording, there are other instruments--guitar and piano specifically--and all the producers at the table quiet to listen.

It’s the longest two and a half minutes of your life as they listen. Your fingers drum against your thighs as the song soars to it’s climax, your nails digging a bit into them as well, palms sweaty. This song is is raw for you but that’s something you don’t want to let on.

It ends and everyone sounds and looks pleased as you look around.

It was then that you realized there was someone sitting in an armchair on the far side of the room. Arms folded over one another, bucket hat low over their eyes. But your attention is pulled away when someone else at the table speaks up.

The producer eagerly says, “What else do you have?”

You quickly sift through your media player list before stopping on a song titled “It Carries.” Your heart stops for a moment. This song is one of your favorites but it also is a painful reminder. Not just about a past you’d like to forget but a humiliation that your best friend Seoyun would tell you was not your fault. You didn’t realize that you just sat there quietly for a beat too long.

“Y/N?” the lady executive asks.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, shaking it off, “Was stuck between two…Hm, this one is called ‘It Carries.’ I actually wrote it for...an old friend. He’s the one rapping, but I wrote everything.”

Throwing your nerves into the wind, you press play, letting the 808-filled beat fill the conference room. Again the room goes silent, that that makes you nervous. Beginning vocals finish and the rap begins, you notice the person in the back of the room lean forward, elbows on their knees. It doesn’t help that you can’t see their face. They’re probably another one of the producers.

The party that wrenches your heart the most comes up and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You take a deep breath but it’s shakier than you were planning on it to be.

‘But you say “it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine Words aren’t always necessary” My heart squeezes in love and in thanks And I don’t feel as broken as before’

As it finishes, you let out a breath you didn’t realize that you were holding. There is some applause but you aren’t really paying attention. The tall producer raises his hand to quiet everyone again. “That was really amazing. You wrote those raps?” he asked.

“Yes... I wrote them,” you said, which was all you could manage. Your nerves were still bubbling.

“The flow is amazing. The rapping is good but the lyrics…” he trailed off.

“The rapper had an exceptional songwriter to help him out,” said a deep, slightly scratchy voice. It came from the person in the back, the one whose face you couldn’t see in the dimmed light of the conference room. You looked as closely from where you sat and when he raised his head, you tried not outwardly gasp.

Your complimenter was none other than Min Yoongi, Suga of BTS, one of the most well-known and spoken-about young producers in the industry. But...why was he sulking in the back of a preliminary producer meeting? Didn’t he have songs to write, press to do, anything else but sit in on your meeting? Why in the heck was he here? And he listened to some rather personal songs of yours too. Your face had never felt so hot.

“You’re absolutely right,” the female executive said, making no comment as to why the idol was sitting in the back of this meeting.

The tall producer came back around. “You’ve got an interesting point of view and I’d love to see what you can do. I work with BTS but am also overseeing the new boy group who are working towards their debut.”

You perked up a bit, your attention finally at least partly restored after having been trying really hard not to start at the international superstar just sulking in the corner of the room.

“Really?” you asked, a smile forming on your lips, your eyes moving to bulge just slightly out of your head. Was this all really happening?

“Really,” he said, smiling, “You won’t be exclusive to any team but I think you’d be a great use to many of the projects currently in the words at BigHit.” Everyone looked to be in agreement but your eyes couldn’t help but go back to Min Yoongi in the back. His arms still crossed, he didn’t have much of a reaction...despite what he said to you earlier; to be more specific, what he said about you.

The meeting started to die down and everyone was getting out of their chairs and talking. You took a sip out of your water bottle as two of the younger producers--whose names you recognized from the long list of BTS credits--included you into conversation, asking you about your influences. The rest of the time was spent talking to the two of them, as well as the other producers.

They both gave you their numbers as they mentioned they’d also be working on most of the current projects in production and that you’d be spending a lot of time together so getting to know one another would be beneficial. You wholeheartedly agreed and found them easy to talk to, quickly relaxing into the conversation. Getting to know them was like some sort of...weird reality.

You felt as if you might have to pinch yourself any second.

You were talking to one of the younger producers when they beckoned someone over. You looked over your shoulder to see Suga of BTS--Min Yoongi, if you were to be more correct in this situation--holding a soda can between his fingers. You hadn’t seen him talk to anyone until now besides the female executive from earlier.

“Hey, hyung,” one of the guys said to him, “Ready to go back to the studio?”

He turned his gaze from his drink to the producer and you could finally really see his face, even if it was still partly hidden under his hat. The first thing that definitely struck you was his eyes. Dark and intense, not that you didn’t already know that. You’d seen pictures of him, seen his performances at all the music award and variety shows. But cameras and televisions rarely captured the true reality. They were truly stunning.

It was then. It was then that it really hit you that Min Yoongi was standing a mere four feet away from you. He was perhaps one of the biggest inspirations for auditioning for Big Hit in the first place. You never really considered yourself ARMY but you respected the group and their interest in being involved in the creation of their work. Especially the rap line as they also were considered the main contributors. You admired what they and BigHit doing, what they stood for.

And you had a feeling that you were going to get to be part of it.

You tried not to visibly vibrate with excitement right in front of him. Why would you be calm and collected around him? You’d never met any idols or famous actors, singers, etc. in your entire life. It was jarring to realize that he was just hanging out in the back of the conference room while you showed some of your personal work with the producing team. You rarely shared your music with your family, let alone your friends. Seoyun, was the only one who could pry the work out of you...but usually under force or threat.

But she of all people knew what these two songs meant to you. And having a famous idol hear your work before you even knew he was in the room...it scattered your brain just a bit. You still kind of felt like an idiot, though.

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi said in a low and tired-sounding timbre.

Part of you was curious as to what they are working on and part of you kind of wanted to ask if you can tag along. But the realist side of you laughed at the idea. You haven’t been in the building more than two hours and you were already itching to know more, do more, see more. But you keep quiet because you knew it was just your excitement. Nothing like this had ever happened in your life and you’re still not even sure if it’s even real. You could wake up at any moment. It’s a dream, right?, you keep asking yourself.

It’s not. It’s the start of the rest of your life.

“Cool,” the other producer said, shoving their hands into their pockets. The water bottled crinkled a little in your hands. “It was really great meeting you, Y/N. Work calls but we’ll see you soon, yeah? I think the plan is to get into get things set up in the next week,” he continued.

“Sounds great,” you replied genuinely. The two producers turned towards Yoongi and the three of them started to leave but before they could make head way out of the conference room, the man in question turned back towards you with a hand raised in a non-moving wave.

“See you around,” he said.

“You too,” you managed to respond, returning the small wave but dropping that hand to wrap around your other wrist in front of you. You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. Your first two words to Min Yoongi. They could have been worse...or more embarrassing.

Seriously, you needed someone to slap you back to reality.

He turned around and left with the two producers. One was Shin Donghyuk--also known as Surpeme Boi--and the other was Kim Yunseo, a newer addition to the BigHit team, but you had been familiar with some of his independent work before he joined. They were going to be heavily involved in the work for the upcoming projects, both BTS’ comeback and the new boy group debut.

Tossing your finished water bottle in the appropriate bin, the female executive who rooted for you, Lee Hayoon, approached you. She had a stern yet friendly smile as she came towards you, with the producer known as ADORA in tow.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself. I see you you already met Donghyuk-ssi and Yunseo-ssi. That’s great because you’ll be working with them a lot,” she said, “We considered hiring a new slew of producers for the new group but Donghyuk insisted on working both albums. Yunseo is, after you, the newest producer. Glad to have you on the team, Y/N.”

The woman you knew to be known as ADORA smiled. “My name is Moon Eun-hye,” she said, making a small bow, “It’s so nice to have another woman on the team finally. Your work is stunning for how young you are.” You beam just a bit as you really respect her work as ADORA.

“Thank you so much. I really admired your work on the last album,” you said returning the bow, trying not to gush. Eun-hye seemed so low-key and dresses casually, much like how you usually dress. What you were currently wearing was you dressing up to impress. This girl made sweats and a ripped t-shirt look cool.

“Aw, thanks,” she said, “Seriously...I can’t wait to work with you. Us girls definitely have to stick together.” She gave you her number and the three of you talked about what was next. Hayoon said that you’d be looped in with the studio/recording coordinator to get updated on the current schedule. They’d be doing a few team dinners for the various projects that were coming up, coinciding with whatever you got placed on. Whether it was primarily the BTS comeback or the boy group debut. Hayoon assured that you’d have time to learn about the group once and if you started working with them, if that was the decision that would go first.

The get together finally died down and you said your goodbyes, only a few hours later getting various calendar invites. You’d be officially signing your contract the next time you came to BigHit. You were having your brother-in-law--a lawyer--look it over before you signed.

Those technicalities and small things were the last things on your mind. You were making your dreams come true and you were doing it on your own.

You also couldn’t wait to tell the people who loved and supported you the most.

An important event was coming up so the dance, studio, and overall rehearsal schedule was in full swing. Not only did the guys have to share a company with a new group, the company was flocking with new people and faces due to obvious and needed expansion. While they all thought that they knew everyone, there was always someone new popping out from the woodwork.

“Hey, hyung,” Jimin shouted over towards Namjoon while sitting on the floor stretching, “Did you hear about the new producer they just hired?” Both Jimin and Jungkook were fanned out on the floor, getting ready for a dance practice. Hoseok was already in front of the mirror, lightly going through the steps as usual.

“I did,” Namjoon said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know anything other than that the producer is a girl.”

Jimin and Jungkook both looked at one another. Eun-hye-noona was the only other female producer so this was an interesting development. You’d be the second female staff producer so of course you were of interest. The way you got hired, too, was definitely something that triggered a lot of attention as well.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asked as he walked over and sat down to join the rest of the youngers.

“The new producer they just hired is a girl,” Jungkook said excitedly. The four of them were talking amongst themselves while Hoseok was still working in front of the mirror, Jin was sitting on a rolling chair playing a game on his phone and Yoongi was getting some water. Shaken from his thoughts, he heard Jimin over his shoulder.

“Yoongi-hyung, do you know anything about the new girl producer?” Jimin asked, Jungkook and Taehyung hanging onto the question.

“She’s good,” he said casually, turning back to his water bottle. Exclamations erupted.

“You heard her work????” Taehyung asked, breaking the commotion.

Yoongi put the bottle down, turned around, and walked over to the four guys. They were all awash with excitement and moved in towards him as well.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked. Jimin followed, leaning his hands and arms over Jungkook’s shoulder in expectation.

“I was at the studio and Hayoon-noona asked me to sit in on a meeting,” Yoongi said, crossing his arms, looking up at towards the brim of the baseball cap on his head.

“So, she’s actually good?” Namjoon asked, looking Yoongi over in question, “I’m surprised they even met with her a second time after all that confusion.”

Yoongi whipped out his phone, deciding to pull up the song he asked Hayoon to send over to him. “She brought a looper in with her for her audition. You can’t really ignore that. It’s creative”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s actually really cool,” he said, watching Yoongi pull up the song. Namjoon called out for Jin and Hobi to come over.

“I asked Hayoon-noona to send me the song she played for us in the meeting,” Yoongi added, moving to press play.

“What is this-” Jin said before Jimin cut him off with a ‘Shhhh’

A hip hop tone with a bit of electronic and tropical flowed through the horrible iPhone speakers, filling the studio. Hobi and Jungkook immediately started moving their head and shoulders while the others listened intently.

It was the “It Carries” song that you had played the group in your meeting.

The vocals and rap line move seamlessly on top of the melody and production. Namjoon’s chin sits in his hands as he moves it along, deep in though. Yoongi doesn’t move or sway but he’s super intent on listening to the song, something he done a number of times since asking Hayoon-noona to send it to him.

“Who’s rapping?” Jimin asks. By this time, he’s moving his fingers to the beat.

“Don’t know,” Yoongi said, “He’s okay, I guess, but what’s more interesting is that she wrote all the rap and lyrics in addition to producing the song.” Namjoon and Hoseok were intrigued. “She’s only a year older than Kookie,” he said as the song came to its end. Everyone was surprised by that. Once again, they all erupted into conversation.

“Take notes, Kookie,” he said, pocketing his phone and looking pointedly at the maknae, “If you want to continue producing music…”

“Don’t come for me, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook said defiantly. The others laughed at the exchange. “Regardless....you seem to know a lot about her,” Jungkook teases. The others join in and it takes Yoongi what’s left of his energy to not say something back.

After practice ended, he ended up spending the majority of the night at the studio after Hoseok and Yunseo left. The three of them were working on a song but Yoongi wanted to to stay behind after they left.

He had been working on some tweaks for a collaboration with a huge western artist but all of a sudden, a thought came to him. A rush of inspiration had led him to his piano and he laid down a melody line. It was one of the first things he was truly proud of and something that wasn’t spurred by necessity. It was something just for him in that moment, something that brought a wide smile to his face as he reached for the soggy iced Americano on his desk.

Maybe it would be something he’d save for the next mixtape. Maybe...just maybe he wouldn’t have to wait that long.

Your family was so proud.

They had been apprehensive of you pursuing music because of the question of stability but in the end, they just wanted you to be happy. You went to university to please them, but majored in music production. They felt more secure in that choice. Sound engineers were always in demand, at least. That’s how they thought anyway. You couldn’t blame them and you did want to make them proud. But there were moments when you were sure that you knew yourself. You knew that you could never do a job that you weren’t passionate about.

You’d always been sensitive and pursuing medicine or an office job...you had a feeling ity would essentially destroy you.

You had lovely friends in university, most of whom you are still close to, but well into your second year, you met and started dating another music production major. Even thinking or saying his name was still painful, though. It had been months since you broke up and you’d begun to heal. Your heart was finally mending and your friends and music were your saving graces. You don’t know where you would be without Seoyun’s pushy behavior or your sister’s quote-laden pep talks over skype or the cave that was your music studio set up in your small studio apartment. The tail end of your relationship had caused a lot of rifts in your heart and life. While you didn’t rearrange your whole life, there were a lot of things you changed after your break up.

After appearing on a famous reality rap show and making it to the end...the funny, charming, aspiring rapper you called your boyfriend and best friend dumped you over text message.

You had relied on your family and friends a lot in the past several months. So seeing you happy about something again made them happy. You really hated being a burden to your friends and family. The idea that they worried so much about you did a number on your anxiety. All you wanted was for your parents and friends to be proud of the artist and person you were. Working for one of the most talked-about music companies in the industry was only something you’d dreamed about. Music had been your life since you were little, ever since you had begged for piano and guitar lessons. Practicing piano for hours a day was a hassle to most of your friends but to you, those lessons were the best part of your week. Guitar quickly became a second love, too.

Before this opportunity, you had seriously considered moving back with your parents, the small cafe job you had up until now barely even helping you make rent. But you knew that you’d soon be getting a paycheck from one of the most profitable companies in music. You deleted that email draft to your landlord, stating that you’d be leaving at the end of your lease.

Things were looking up in more ways than one.

In celebration, your best friend in the world, Park Seoyun, had convinced you to go out the Saturday before your first day officially at BigHit.

She was a social butterfly and had a lot of cool and influential friends. Sometimes you weren’t sure whiy she still kept you around but she did. While she was also the fun friend, she was also the mom friend. Always nagging you and making sure you were taking care of yourself, not just while you were both in university. She actually worked at one of the big companies in a coordinator position and she knew where anyone who was anything would be. Dominoing into tonight, she knew someone who could get the two of you through the VIP entrance to one of the hottest clubs in Seoul.

Clubs were never one of your things but once in a while, letting loose didn’t sound like a horrible idea. However, she’d dressed you up. You weren’t a super fashionable person. You liked a more athletic look in contrast to Seoyun’s sexy, feminine fashion sense. In your signature black, she squeezed you into a short turtleneck bodycon dress and some of her more stable, platformed boots. Heels had always been your enemy and you threw anything that had a stiletto back her way. She had to concede.

As she promised, getting in was a breeze. You were able to slink right in, of course pissing off all the people in the line that wrapped around the block. You couldn’t help but smile a little as the two of you tripped over your own feet into the club.

Your friend insisted on taking a photo before entering the VIP section, where cameras were not allowed. You did your classic peace sign near your face in front of the neon light display. You assesed yourself in a mirror nearby. You looked cute, you guessed. Cute was the most you could muster. Sexy? Don’t even try, you’d tell yourself. Seoyun had a claim on that territory already. But you were fine with being cute. Sexy wasn’t something you actively tried to achieve. After touching up, you two made your way over to the VIP section. Seoyun made flirty small talk with the bouncer and the two of you were in there in seconds.

Yeah, there were definitely celebrities littering the area. Seoyun even walked right up to some actor that you recognized but couldn’t name….and they knew one another. You weren’t surprised as you took the hand the tall, handsome actor offered when greeting you. “Y/L/N, Y/N?”

“Uh, hi. How did you know my name?” you asked., honestly a little incredulous.

“Honestly Y/N, he went to school with us,” she said. Your eyes widened because you didn’t remember him. “It’s fine, you didn’t go out a lot. You may not know him.”

You rolled your eyes at her and apologized to him but you still smile a little because it was true. You had been too busy with your music and...your boyfriend. Maybe if you took your social life a little more seriously while in university, you’d have been friends with the actor too. Seoyun was your first year roommate and despite the two of you being soul twins, you both really were so different. Jisoo had been kind enough to get the three of you drinks so for a moment, he disappeared.

Seoyun stiffened and it caught you off-guard. What was she looking at? “Don’t look over your right shoulder are your new neighbors,” You scrunch your nose in confusion but quickly look, trying to mask it as a scratch.

“I said don’t look!” your friend screamed through her teeth and you quickly whip your head back in her direction in response to her order.

“Calm down,” you said, “Who’s there?” You were surprised any of them were there. They were notoriously absent from the party scene. At least, that’s what Seoyun said. Then again, so were you. At least you had that in common.

“Them. I think all of them,” she said but not sounding so sure, just as the actor--Lee Jisoo, whose name you just remembered--came back with three drinks. You definitely did see that drama with him in it. You had definitely watched the whole thing, too. He smiled at both of you as you clink your glasses together.

“Who’s here?” Jisoo asks after taking a sip. You suddenly feel awkward but Seoyun is quick to gab.

“BTS,” she said. Jisoo looked over and nodded with a thoughtful pout.

“I rarely see them out. Surprised, staff is loosening the reins,” he said. However, it didn’t look like they were being bothered by anyone. It was probably nice for them, you thought, that the could go out and blow off some steam without being harassed once in while.

“It just so happens that Y/N here is getting signed to BigHit,” she says after taking a large gulp of her drink. You gave her a look. Your contract wasn’t even signed yet and you didn’t want anything risking it but you let it go because on the other hand, your socially connected best friend was proud as hell of you.

“I’ll be working on various projects as a producer,” you say, keeping it that, just in case. You didn’t want anything to harm the signing of your contract. But you were proud. You were very excited. Jisoo congratulated you, said that he knew a few of the boys, and then laughed at something else Seoyun said. Sometimes you were jealous of her since she had such an easy way with people. You were the opposite most of the time. You were really shy until you eased yourself into the situation and got more comfortable. You had never been the type to just go up to people you didn’t know but you adapted quickly once you slotted in and often fed off the energy of others.  

Continuing to talk, the three of you had managed to shift your standing positions so that the group was now at the edge of your peripheral. You didn’t want to go over and disturb them. Besides, you had only ever been introduced to Yoongi and that was only for a millisecond. You couldn’t even see Yoongi at the moment but what if he was there and he saw you and you saw him and he thought it was rude that you didn’t come over? You were used to overthinking things so you were hoping that even the smallest of sips would help ease the anxiety settling into the pit of your stomach like squishy rocks.

Why were you like this? Ugh.

You continued to flit in and out of the conversation with Seoyun and Jisoo and the feeling of them within your peripheral. Something unexpected happened instead. Two of members approached the three of you. Mid-sip you tried not to choke on the large gulp you just took.

“It’s Y/L/N, Y/N, right?” says the shorter of the two who approached. You were almost 100% certain that was Kim Taehyung. A large, wide smile and impeccable style. The taller, you knew, was Kim Namjoon, the leader of the group. You knew that for sure. But wait a minute, how---? How did they knew you were you? You looked around for a moment but still didn’t see Yoongi.

“Yes,” you said, your glass still held tightly between your fingers, “Hi.” You were glad that you managed at least those two words. He smiled at you and there was something about him that eased whatever nerves you had before. It was true. He didn’t look human in real life. You smile and make yourself take a deep breath. You’d likely be working with the group soon on their upcoming album. In a way, they were kind of your co-workers? Being nervous around them wasn’t going to make anything easier.

“It’s nice to actually meet you. We’ve heard a bit about you,” Namjoon chimes in, shaking your hand, followed by Tae. The two of them also introduce themselves to Seoyun and Jisoo, though Taehyung knew Jisoo as an acquaintance through mutual friends. The five of you fell into conversation and it wasn’t long before Jimin came and joined, introducing himself to you and your group.

“We loved your song, by the way,” Jimin said enthusiastically, “That hook…” Your eyes widened a little as you subconsciously pulled your lips in between your teeth, a small smile tearing at the corners. Some of the most celebrated artists in the industry loved your work. Sometimes, this kind of validation could be enough to drag you out of your shy comfort zone.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you said, “Which song?” You were doing all you could to not visibly shake. Park Jimin had the voice of an angel and if you were lucky enough to keep impressing BigHit, he might end up singing your work.

“I think it was “It Carries”?” Jimin said, calling over your shoulder, “Yoongi-hyung, Y/N’s song you played for us...it was “It Carries,” right?” You turned over your shoulder a little too quickly, hitting Jisoo in the face with your hair. You muttered a quick sorry to him. They’d passed around your song. God, your face couldn’t be any warmer, right?

“Yeah,” he said, expressionless, holding three drinks, “that’s the one.” You forced yourself to breathe again. That song had been hard enough to show to the group as it was personal. The fact that the whole group had heard it caused your heart to palpitate. You knew that Hayoon had a copy of it but the idea that someone you didn’t know might have it on their computer or on their phone or in their texts...it was still a little unnerving. A compliment, likely, but still unnerving.

Yoongi moved to hand the three of his group members drinks, which they accepted. “Nice to see you again,” he said to you, shaking his bangs out of his face. There were his eyes again. Soft despite his monotone. He sounded sincere but not overzealous or as if he was saying it to be polite. He was dressed nicely in a simple black blazer, black t-shirt and black jeans. Simple. Unlike what they usually wore for press, concerts, etc.

“You too,” you say in response, feeling yourself ease a little, taking another sip. He seemed perfectly relaxed, as if playing your song for everyone was just the most casual thing he could do...while across from him, your stomach was in knots. However, part of you felt at ease because he took it so casually, as if this whole thing wasn’t changing your life. As if all of this was natural. It was a paradox you couldn’t quite keep away from.

Seoyun who was having a good time, raised her glass. “Just want to make a quick toast to Y/N’s first day on Monday. I have a very hard-working, tireless, and multi-talented best friend,” she said, smiling and leaning into Jisoo just a bit. Your best friend was sweet but a bit of a lightweight, “Cheers to Y/N!!!” Everyone in the circle smiled and joined in.

The rest of the night flew by in a fun frenzy and the three of you ended up joining the group at their booth. You met Hoseok, Jin, and Jungkook shortly after, the three of them working their way through the fancy handle of Grey Goose vodka among their assorted bottle service. Hoseok was definitely the most tipsy and when a song he loved came on, he even pulled Seoyun and yourself in to dance. He was twirling you both around playfully and jokingly, but still managing to dance with more grace than anyone you personally knew.

When Hoseok released the two of you for a break, you found yourself deep in conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi while Seoyun managed to find herself flirting with both Jin and Jisoo. Namjoon and Yoongi both seemed interested in your music taste. They asked you about your musical influences and you found it really nice that they were just as nerdy about music as you were. For a moment, you could have gone to high school with them, as if they might have been in orchestra with you or jazz band.

“Epik High, Missy Elliott, Lady Sovereign, Beyoncé, CL....hands down of all time,” you said and as you took another sip of your drink, it finally made that awful slurping noise. You’d hit ice. Both Yoongi and Namjoon enthusiastically said that Epik High was one of their biggest inspirations to be rappers.

“Do you rap?” Namjoon asked and you couldn’t help be shake your head no. Performing was not in your wheelhouse. God, your audition was nerve wracking enough. Performing in front of hundreds of people? No thank you.

“No, not at all,” you said, “But I like to write them.”

“Like your song,” Yoongi said,, “That was a beautiful rap. You definitely could, if you wanted to.” You softened at the words coming out of his mouth and then some more when Namjoon agreed.

“Yu obviously have amazing musicality. Just like this one here,” Namjoon said, motioning at Yoongi. Yoongi just raised his shoulders the tiniest bit in response. An acknowledgment rather than an agreement.

Namjoon then asked you what you were currently listening to but you were interrupted for a second as Yoongi took the drink from you, leaning down towards the large low table, presumably to top you off.

You quickly snapped back to what Namjoon was saying. “Oh, lately I’ve been listening to WOODZ, Jvcki Wai, and I love Robyn’s newest album,” you say.

“I like Jvcki’s lyrics. Very aggressive flow, too,” Namjoon says enthusiastically and you nod in agreement.

“She doesn’t take prisoners. I think what she is doing is really cool,” you add, “Especially as a woman in hip hop.” You think of her song ‘Anti-’ All your friends really liked music but you were so excited to be working at a company where everyone had the same passion.

“People think she uses a lot of autotune but that’s actually usually just her voice,” you say with a laugh. Both Namjoon and Yoongi smile at your comment, the second handing you a newly made drink.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the tumbler from his hands. A small smile appeared on Yoongi’s lips as he finished making himself another drink. “Lady Sovereign, though?” he asked and you know he’s making fun of you.

“What can I say? My ten year old self was obsessed,” you say, smiling and thinking about the time you dressed up as her for a costume party in elementary school. The few small braids, the side ponytail, and tracksuit were still a look. Taking another gulp of your drink, you were trying to remember which number you were on. You could feel the alcohol in your cheeks at this point. You were tall for a girl and usually you weren’t much of a lightweight. You could handle your liquor but you’d always feel it in your face two drinks in. The feeling was comfortable but the thought of looking drunker than you were was not.

“I was curious, though,” Namjoon said all of a sudden, “Who was the rapper on your track?” You froze for a second for responding just a little too quickly. “An old friend,” you said, perhaps a little colder than you meant. You were trying to convince yourself that your reaction was due to the alcohol, but your face gave away everything.

“Oh, he sounds kind of familiar. That’s the only reason I ask,” Namjoon said and if he caught on to your demeanor change, he didn’t let on. It wouldn’t be surprising if Namjoon had heard of your boyfriend. He did win a huge rap reality show.

As you took another sip, Seoyun came over, dragging Jisoo and Jin with her. Jin was very drunk and leaning onto Seoyun, earning him an annoyed look from Jisoo. “So, I think the plan is for us to ditch and go get yangnyeom tongdak in say...five minutes?” he said, looking at his watch, a fancy digital contraption that flashed 1:00 AM. Wow, you didn’t realize how much time flew by.

Yoongi was the first to reply, as if relieved. “Sounds great to me,” he said, taking the happiest sip of alcohol you thought you’d ever seen. He then drained the whole thing, practically slamming it onto the table, and wiped his mouth with the side of thumb. “Ready!!” He exclaimed, smile on his face. You looked at him in the eye and there was a silent agreement when both of your eyes met.

Food > Clubbing.

Jin, despite how drunk he was, managed to coral all seven boys plus the three of you into the van waiting for you at the back of the club. Everyone toppled in with Seoyun strung out across Jisoo, Jin, and Jungkook in the back. Yoongi shuffled in, helping you up, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin pulling in the rear. The four of them squeezed together and grabbed you to lay out similarly to Seoyun. Taehyung and Hoseok held onto your torso while your head ended up awkwardly pressed against Yoongi’s armpit. You laughed as they hoisted you up, making sure you were comfortable.

The buzz was hanging high in your head and you could hear Seoyun, Hoseok, and Jungkook singing to “thank u, next” as it started on the van speakers. You didn’t sing but every time “next” was said, you punched the air above you with your palms. Minutes and several songs later, the van stopped and both Seoyun and you were hoisted out of the car. Yoongi and Hoseok gave you a hand out, and then lead you through the dark back entrance of the chicken place. All of you stumbled into a large room in the back, not completely closed off from the main restaurant but private enough where no one would know they were back there unless they went looking.

Sliding along the modern wooden bench in your dress proved difficult, Seoyun and Jisoo fumbling in next to you while Yoongi slid his legs through the opening between the table and bench, managing it without making too much of a ruckus. Jin and Yoongi ended up across from one another, both excitedly together. They ordered what seems like a feast for 25 people--not the ten actually there--and as they went through a list that included sweet and spicy chicken, honey garlic chicken, bulgogi flavored chicken, french fries, pickled raddish, and tteokbokki, you finally hear your stomach growling. It didn’t evade Yoongi and Jin’s ears. “Wow that was loud,” you say, trying to laugh it off, a little too drunk to be completely embarrassed. Jin immediately said to their waitress to make it fast as “the lady is hungry.”

Beer and soju arrive and despite the fact you don’t think you can fit any more alcohol in your body. Jin and Jimin challenge everyone to shots of soju and you managed to find more space in your stomach. Not the heaviest of drinkers, you quickly get more comfortable in your surroundings and you finally get the up the courage to pry. You turn to Yoongi and straight up ask him, “What were you working on with Donghyuk-sunbae and Yunseo-sunbae?” Yoongi finished his shot of soju, putting the glass back down on the table with a loud click, then crossed his arms on the ledge of the table.

“Group number for the new album,” he answered, his voice low and a bit slurred, “Trying to decide if we should do something nostalgic or something different. The concept is a lot...dirtier this time? I guess that’s the best way to describe it?” You mimic his arm position without realizing it, leaning onto the edge of the table in front of you. “Why not both?”

Your question makes him laugh. “How would we do that?” he asked, split between confused and curious. You could feel the gears in your brain start to turn. Figuring out the feel of songs you wanted to work on was one of the best parts in your opinion; thinking about what you wanted to convey was a rush. You had an idea of what you were trying to say but fuck it if he laughed it.

“Just think about it, okay,” you say, weirdly proud of yourself, “Do You Think It Makes Sense? meets ‘Tear.’ Maybe really bring out that R&B feel. Hmmmm...there is this really good sample from ‘Gossip Fools’ by Missy Elliott featuring Ludacris, actually.”

“You really dug into the library on that first song,” he said with a smirk. You can’t help but smile. It was true and you had done some refreshing on the BTS library in the last few weeks. Of course, you’d always been familiar with them but the song was a few years old. He looked at you for a moment, contemplating something. It wasn’t a lie that he made you nervous, but the alcohol was helping….for the both of you apparently. “Play the sample,” he said, looking pointedly at your phone.

“What?” you ask, as in...really, dude? But you’re reaching for you phone. You pull up your library and he takes his phone from you and clips the song, which is now playing on full volume. A few of the guys stop talking and look over. Immediately Hoseok starts moving to it and shouts, “MIIIIIIISSSY!!!”

“But slowed down a bit, I think?” you added, and you look at Yoongi’s face and a few gears of his appear to be turning. He turns down the speed to 0.75 instead of normal. Soon enough, they all seem interested in what’s going on. “Definitely more dirty if you slow it down,” you say, without really thinking what you’re saying and a little louder than you mean to.

The guys burst into laughter and it takes everything in you to not just sink into a puddle beneath the table. You’re could feel all  the blood rush to your face. “Just an idea,” you say smally, putting your arms back in your lap. Hoseok starts rapping along to it and after a moment, you can’t help but lightly join. You loved Missy.

Everyone eventually went back to their conversations while Yoongi and you ended up pouring over your music library, smirking at a few embarrassing entries. He even convinced you to play some some random things you’d been working on, including a few piano ramblings. You also mentioned that you also had played guitar since childhood. Piano was your favorite though, you admitted, and he smiled warmly at that and agreed. It was a little off-putting, his smile. It didn’t fit his preapproved aura but it looked so nice among his features. After ribbing you for having “The Shape of My Heart” by the Backstreet Boys on your Spotify’s “Most Recent,” you two eventually looked up to see that food had arrived and everyone was eating. The both of you were quick to pile your plates with chicken and tteokbokki.

You’d never met anyone as passionate about music as you and even though you were sure it was the liquid courage talking, you felt comfortable talking to the rapper. Despite what public decreed his personality to be, it didn’t feel like that when the two of you gushed over the use of vintage 808s. With a mouth full of sweet and spicy chicken, no less. Maybe it was because you could relate and not just on a musical level. You weren’t as outgoing as Seoyun, who was currently threatening to throw a rice cake at Jin, her personality counterpart. You felt at home in your own head and maybe that made you shy in regards to others’ standards. But...sometimes it was moments like these that you felt free enough to talk to someone you admired without getting nervous, without letting your nerves completely immobilize your ability to communicate.

Fuck, you ate too quickly. Part of you just wanted to lay down on your own plate, but there you were...taking another bite of rice cake, trying as you might to fit two whole ones in your mouth. After a moment, Yoongi’s low voice and shoulder jolted you out of your food and beer trance. “Yeah?” you said, mouth full of rice cake.

“Would you want to work on something?” he asked, straight-faced.

A chunk of rice cake might just have fallen out of your mouth at his question. You tried not to look too mortified when he couldn’t contain his laughter. God, you were hopeless. “Um, work on something?” you asked, sure that you couldn’t have heard right.

“With me, yeah. No thoughts on what but...even for fun? Just in general?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free, ringed hand, both of which were turning red due to alcohol. Not that you were clued in enough to notice. Your eyes weren’t even focusing anywhere because you might still have been in shock. But you felt the heat in your face and a fluttering in your heart. There was part of you that couldn’t help but stare. This was was more conversation than you would have expected between the two of you.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, scrambling with a napkin to pick up the rice cake that had hit the table in a bright red splat. You wrapped it up and set it to the side. Did you really hear correctly? Did you just say yes, too? Everything was a little buzzy and raw in your head right at that moment. This whole experience...getting hired by BigHit had sent everything into hyperdrive.

Were your dreams really coming true?

“I would love that,” you couldn’t help by say. You went for another rice cake, careful to keep it from dropping from your chopsticks. Stuffing it into your mouth without caring what you looked like, you sighed. Late night drunk eating was the best. “Almost as much as this rice cake,” you add, grabbing another with and sliding the bowl closer to Yoongi, so he didn’t have to reach over.

“I’ll be honest. I’m honored,” he said, smiling, “This place has the best tteokbokki.” He dug in for some as well and the two continued to chat mostly about what you two were listening to at the moment, even joining in with the group on other topics that were a-buzz at the moment. Jungkook even hopped up to take a group photo of everyone and then a long selfie shot of the group. You leaned over the table to get past Seoyun, Yoongi leaning even farther but his face still ended up getting partially cut off by your head.

It was getting really late and while Yoongi told you the guys didn’t have a schedule tomorrow, they all had things that they probably should get done. They insisted on dropping Seoyun, Jisoo, and yourself off at your place before getting on their way. From there, you left Seoyun and Jisoo at the door to go their separate ways as you made your way up to your studio apartment. Your heart was beating really quickly but you weren’t sure if it was from the several flights of stairs you ascended or the adrenaline that was currently keeping you awake.

Everything felt fumbly as you made your way around your apartment to get ready for bed. You could have just passed out cold in your going-out clothes, crossbody still strapped to your body. However, you managed to peel everything off and throw it on the floor before you threw on the PJ’s you laid out on your bed in preparation. Quickly, you could feel a headache trying to form so you grabbed a large bottle of water from your fridge and placed it on your nightstand. You knew that if you chugged a bunch you’d be fine in the morning.  After getting part of your nighttime routine in, you practically swan dived under the covers, and cocooned yourself in the large down comforter.

Maybe all of tonight was a dream and you had just been in your bed for the last several hours. You didn’t fall asleep for at least an hour because you couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling, trying to put all your thoughts together. You were getting to do what you loved for a living. A trailblazing company took a chance on you after you failed to read instructions on a songwriting submission. But...you would wake up the next day to the text Yoongi sent to you so that you would have his number.

Yeah, that wasn’t a dream at all.

YOU [11:21 AM]: how’s the hangover? SEOYUN [11:30 AM] not great ugh YOU [11:31 AM]: sorry, babe !! drink some ginger ale and have an ibuprofen and go back to sleep. SEOYUN [11:33 AM]: yes, mom. YOU [11:34 AM]: jisoo and you were getting pretty close last night? is it a thing or is it going to be a thing, etc? :eyes emoji: SEOYUN [11:34 AM]: not a thing yeT! i do really like him. doesn’t hurt that he’s fine as hell! YOU [11:34 AM] what about seokjin? i saw jisoo giving him a dirty look…. SEOYUN [11:35 AM]: let’s just blame my drunk self for being too friendly, ok? YOU [11:36 AM]: ah, i cannot imagine a life where boys fight over me. what’s it like in seoyun world? SEOYUN [11:37]: very funny, y/n. not fighting over me, seokjin’s just very friendly and he was very intoxicated. as i just said, so was i! YOU [11:38 AM]: both would be very lucky to have your attention. <3 SEOYUN [11:40 AM] :sobbing emoji: i have the sweetest bff. don’t make me cry, i’m already nauseous. YOU [11:41 AM]: :angel emoji:   SEOYUN [11:43 AM] but the real question is...what did you and yoongi talk about so much, huddled at the end of the table? hmmm? YOU [11:43 AM]: ah, music! just nerdy producer stuff, really…. SEOYUN [11:44 AM]: hmmmmm, interesting…. YOU [11:45 AM]: why is that interesting? SEOYUN [11:45 AM]: no reason, you two just looked cozy. YOU [11:47 AM]: COME ON!! don’t stir the pot seoyunnn SEOYUN [11:47 AM]: if there is an typhoon brewing, no need for me to stir >:) YOU [11:48 AM]: i hate you. this is my first big girl job. Even if there was anything--WHICH THERE ISN’T--risking the opportunity would be the last thing I would do. SEOYUN [11:49 AM]: lying isn’t a good look for you. YOU [11:50 AM]: seriously, though, seoyun! we just nerded out. we were discussing a song he’s currently working on and i played him that missy elliott sample. that song she did with ludacris. SEOYUN [11:51 AM]: let’s just pretend i know what you are talking about. YOU [11:52 AM]: it was fun but we were both really drunk. he asked me if i wanted to work on something with him but i’m just chalking it up to ‘commitments made drunk,’ a common theme among drunk people. SEOYUN [11:55 AM] well, good luck and hopefully he remembers. regardless, i have a very talented best friend and he’d be lucky to work on something with you. :) YOU [11:56 AM]: :blush emoji: sleep tight and let me know if you need me to bring you soup. SEOYUN [11:56 AM]: aweeee. ;;;;;; love you xx

[jennifersylvesters]

give a little - part two

Pairing: Chris Evans / Sebastian Stan x fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k~ Warning: swearing Prompt: fake dating ( @petalparker and @suncitydanvers writing challenge ) A/N: /whispers: yeet yoot. new part done. another couple to go. ( if i forgot to tag you, i’m so sorry! i’m in a loopy state at the moment ) hope y’all enjoy! as always, feedback is appreciated and loved!

You never thought much about the idea of having two boyfriends. After all you were fortunate enough to just have one. So nothing could’ve prepared you for the certain problems that arose when dealing with Sebastian and Chris.

It turned out that Chris was quite demanding when he wasn’t the center of attention. “I need you to come over.” “Do you remember which Mexican restaurant is my favorite? Not fake Chris’s, but mine? Lucy will expect you to know this.” “Can you tell fake Chris to stop bothering you so you can help me with something?” He wasn’t one for sharing, insisting he needed your utmost attention. Whether or not that was the truth wasn’t his concern. His demanding behavior was taking a toll on Sebastian whose patience was running thin.

“If he calls me “fake Chris” one more time, I swear I’m gonna knock him out” Sebastian threatened as the two of you walked to the parking garage one morning. He grumbled about Chris being an absolute jackass and how he couldn’t understand how you put up with his whining. You wondered how two grown men could act like complete children.

You sympathized with Seb reminding him that it wouldn’t be much longer dealing with this fake relationship. Just one coffee date and it would all be over. He wouldn’t be burdened with this mess anymore.

Unlike Chris, Sebastian wasn’t needy. In fact Sebastian complied with whatever you asked. Would he gel his hair back? Sure. Could he wear that dark brown leather jacket for the date? Okay. Did he mind coming over to discuss certain details Jake would expect Sebastian to know? No problem at all.

The only thing that bothered you were his constant reminders of the inevitability you would get caught.

“Don’t tell Jake, and we won’t get caught” you would irritatedly counter back. Sometimes he sat too high on his moral pedestal that you wanted to give him a swift kick off. But he offered you help in one of your weakest moments so you weren’t in a position to say anything. At least not yet.

Twenty-seven steps forward. Swivel on the heel. And start all over again.

“You alright there?” Glancing up you spotted Sebastian leaning against his apartment door with an amused smile.

You had been pacing back and forth in the hallway waiting for him. Smoothing down your skirt, you flashed him a tense grin. It was a tricky question. Technically you were alright. You were in good health and looked nice. You made sure to doll up knowing you were meeting Jake today. This time you were fully prepared for anything.

Except there was a sickening feeling in your stomach that something would inevitably go wrong. It gnawed away as you muttered that you were fine. Concern visibly read on your face as Seb burst into laughter.

“I’m not gonna mess this up for you” he promised.

The two of you walked side by side towards the designated cafe in nervous silence. A couple blocks before you reached your destination, you suddenly took hold of his hand.

He stopped walking and stared down at your interlocked hands.

“It’s for the date! Fake dating obviously! Erm, gotta hold hands before we get there so that this looks authentic, y’know?” you babbled.

Feeling rather embarrassed you began to let go of his hand when he gripped back.

“Makes sense. I just...It caught me off guard that’s all.”

You nodded at him and he mirrored your action.

It was clear the two of you needed to focus. You asked him to repeat your favorite drink and pastry, which he recited quickly. He gave your hand a squeeze as if to say “we got this”. You began walking once more - this time hand in hand - confident this could work. The two of you could totally fake this.

And at first it seemed plausible. The two of you greeted Jake in unison with ridiculously chipper smiles. Seb ordered for you and scooted his chair close as the three of you conversed. He slung his arm around your shoulder, laughing at all the right times while agreeing with anything you said. Yet the finer details began showing cracks.

As Jake offered his extra pastry to Sebastian, you shook your head and placed a hand out.

“Oh, Chris actually doesn’t like that” you stated patting your fake boyfriend’s knee.

“I, uh, actually really like blueberry scones” Sebastian mumbled under his breath.

“Wait, so that was...other?” you whispered so Jake couldn’t hear. Were you thinking of the actual Chris?

Sebastian nodded his head. Crap.

“Shoot. I must’ve confused Chris with...my...grandmother.” Sebastian pursed his lips, trying his best not to laugh at your improvisation.

“You mistake your fake boyfriend for your grandmother often?” he whispered in your ear. There was no way he would let you forget that.

“Didn’t your grandma pass away two years ago?” Jake tapped his chin as he recalled the event. So he couldn’t remember your best friend’s birthday party, but he could remember your grandmother’s passing? How convenient.

“Yes...But my other grandma...She’s alive…And she doesn’t like blueberry scones” you managed to piece together. Sebastian bit down concealing a smile that threatened to pop out. Neither of you were particularly good liars, which made this interaction all the more difficult.

Jake asked “Chris” what he did in his spare time and the other man rattled off various hobbies. The two of them found they both enjoyed hiking launching into a discussion of the best trails.  

“Yeah, Y/N and I go hiking sometimes” Seb grinned causing your face to pale.

“Really? The last time I tried to do that, she was a wheezing mess when we finished. She told me that she’d rather have her foot sawed off than hike again” Jake raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Se-Chris and I only did it once” you quickly interjected.

“And she was very enthusiastic the whole time” Sebastian chirped.

You knew Sebastian was trying to make things better yet his additions only added to the cracks.

“Huh. That’s so funny. I tried seeing if she might give it a second chance at that path near Northview, and she told me she’d rather stab herself than hike again.” Fuck. Why was he fact checking so hard?

“Well, people do funny things for love” you replied, leaning into Seb. “Do not take me hiking” you hissed into his ear.

“Duly noted” he whispered back.

“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Jake forced a laugh as you both chimed it was nothing.

As the three of you continued chatting, you hadn’t noticed your best friend on the other side of the street waving in your direction. Tessa was about to shout your name when Sebastian pulled you close and whispered something in your ear. As you flirtatiously giggled in response, her jaw dropped. Who was this attractive man you were flirting with, and why wasn’t she informed about this sooner?

Despite her confrontational nature, she eyed the situation carefully. When she spotted Jake in the midst, she scowled. Something was definitely up.

Tessa decided she wouldn’t cause a scene. At least not today. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of you and Sebastian. She would ask when the time was right. Lucky for you, the two of you had plans to meet up on Friday.

Tessa’s presence never even registered on your radar, more preoccupied with muddling through this sticky situation.

As the conversation steered towards your job, you shared a concerned glance with your fake boyfriend. The two of you never discussed your careers. Hopefully Sebastian would keep quiet and let you handle the matter.

“Actually the reason I wanted to meet with you is because of your job at SHIELD Enterprises” Jake cleared his throat, straightening up as he placed his hands on the table.

“As you know both of our companies are launching co-branding products at the end of the month.” You nodded. Of course you knew. Your work inbox was full of constant reminders for the “monumental” launch. It was becoming so irritating that you resorted to sending those emails to your spam file.

You eyed Jake as he spoke about how excited he was for this launch, how good this would be for both companies. You weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you and Sebastian or speaking for the sake of filling space. Either way you wanted him to get to the point.

“I know both of our job’s departments will be working on a couple things as they finalize the deal.” You tried your best to keep a composed face even though this news took you by surprise. Perhaps you should’ve read all the updates.

“I just didn’t want things to become uncomfortable or turn unprofessional if we have to work together. And I know we didn’t end things on a great note-” You grunted, unable to contain your disdain about the subject. “-But I’m glad that you’re happy with Chris.” Sebastian mustered up a smile as he squeezed your hand. “And I can’t wait to see you both at the gala in a couple weeks.”

Wait. What?

“What gala?” you asked, head perking up at this news.

“Oh, you know. They’re planning on throwing a gala to celebrate the success of the co-branding. Everyone’s going to the party at The Ritz. I assume you’re attending?”

“I...am” you choked out. Suddenly those spam emails seemed more necessary than ever.

“And I’m sure Chris here is accompanying you” Jake added. Sebastian stared at your horrified expression that he didn’t notice Jake calling him. “Chris? Chris, buddy? You’re going, right?”

It wasn’t until Jake nudged Sebastian that he finally snapped out of it. “Oh. Yes. Me. I’m Chris. Yes” he rambled trying to focus on what had been said.

“You’re of course joining us at the gala, right?” Jake watched him expectantly. Sebastian froze. Jake’s question completely caught him off guard. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“You wouldn’t let your girlfriend attend that soirée all by her lonesome, would you?” Despite Jake’s teasing tone, there was an underlying challenge presented. “Chris” wouldn’t just abandon his girlfriend at one of her biggest work events, right?

“...O-Of course not. I’ll, uh, be there” Sebastian finally stammered out.

“Great!” Jake drummed his hands on the table as you and Sebastian stayed frozen in position. “Coffee’s on me. Can’t wait to see you both” he winked as he placed a couple twenties on the table. He pushed back his chair and walked out of the cafe leaving you both in a daze.

“So…” Sebastian started, unable to find the right words.

“So…” you echoed, staring down at your coffee. The two of you had been so close to pulling this off yet Jake pulled the rug right under at last minute.

You both internally questioned what this meant now.

“Guess I’m gonna be “Chris” for a little longer?” he realized out loud. Hearing the words slip out, he bobbed his head up and down. He didn’t like the idea of playing pretend - especially if that meant being Chris Evans - but he was starting to accept this sad reality.

“Guess we’re still fake dating then” you concluded as you slowly nodded your head along in rhythm.

“I guess so.”

The two of you continued nodding your heads, just a pair of idiotic bobbleheads stuck faking a relationship for a little bit longer.

So maybe you weren’t too confident you could pull this off.

“Too high. That’s too high.”

Chris scoffed at your comment, moving his hands down slightly. “How about now?”

“Still kinda high.”

“If I move my hand any further down, it might as well rest on your ass” he pointed out. You glared as he took his hand off your side only to hold both hands in the air. “I’m just saying…”

You shook your head muttering how unbelievable he was. Wheeling the grocery cart down the bakery section, you reckoned you should’ve just stayed home.

In fact you originally planned on relaxing after a long day at work, but Chris had other plans. He insisted the two of you needed to make the relationship look believable by spending more time together.

When he invited you to grocery shop with him, you initially declined. You didn’t have money to freely spend just to hang out with a fake boyfriend. That changed when he said he would pay for your groceries. Not a bad toss up.

Except it turned out that Chris could be annoyingly bossy. As much as you wanted free groceries, you weren’t sure it was worth dealing with his attitude.

He was in the midst of figuring out how to make it seem like you two were a naturally loving couple instead of complete strangers. Yet whenever he touched you affectionately, you couldn’t help but jolt away or instantly freeze.

“Stop tensing up” he instructed as you whined that you were doing your best. His actions were far too intimate for someone you barely knew. Your suggestions of just an arm around your shoulder or even linking arms were vetoed immediately.

“That’s something I would do with my relatives. It has to be believable” he urged. You internally groaned as you rolled your eyes.

Every time he complained, you found yourself throwing something into the cart. Why not? He was paying after all. If he wanted to be annoying, two could play that game.

“I’m not made of money like Robert Downey Jr., y’know?” he reminded you after you tossed in two bags of Doritos.

You let out a snort. Despite knowing the logistical name of his job, you still weren’t sure what he actually did. “I’m not expecting you to be a tech billionaire, but you did say you were paying.”

“That’s when I didn’t think you were buying the whole store” he complained. Staring him dead in the eye, you swiped another bag of Doritos into the cart.

Chris rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around your waist. You stiffened at his touch prompting him to laugh. “Most women would kill for this. You know that, right?”

Taking in his features, you understood why women liked him. He had that all-American charm and was certifiably handsome. But you were finding out that beneath the dreamy smile was a man with a lot more bite than you initially expected.

He kept hold on your waist as you realized he wasn’t wrong. Perhaps it was a conceited notion but you saw the way others gushed and pined over Chris. Other women wanted that domestic lifestyle with him yet he would never even think about that possibility. You pointed out that you were in this situation because one woman in particular would legitimately kill for this. 

“I’m gonna get murdered by her, aren’t I?” you worried out loud.

“I’ll start getting your funeral preparations ready. I’m sure one of these aisles has some flowers I can lay on your casket” he joked.

Meanwhile Tessa was doing grocery shopping of her own. As she debated whether she wanted carrots, broccoli, or to screw the healthy choices in general, she spotted you getting comfortable with Chris.

Her eyes widened witnessing him wrap his arms around you. He said something that must’ve been hilarious because you to burst into laughter. Tessa nearly toppled over the orange stand watching you flirt with another attractive man with such ease.

Taking out her phone, she snapped a couple of pics. The two of you had a lot to discuss this Friday.

Completely oblivious to your friend’s nearby presence, you gently shoved Chris away before turning back to the cart. He laid his head on your shoulders blowing a bit of air on the shell of your ear. Swatting him off, you began pushing the cart oblivious to Tessa rushing away. “You ever think that this Lucy situation might be a sign that you should settle down?” you questioned earning you a booming laugh.

“Absolutely not. If anything, it convinces me that I’d be stupid to do so.”

“Such an optimist.”

“I like to keep grounded in reality.”

“Then let me remind you that the reality is you have a stalker. And you probably should’ve reported her.” He laughed again and insisted you didn’t need to be so concerned. Chris never really worried seeing as he wasn’t on the receiving end of Lucy’s death glares. Lucky him. Kind of.

“Seriously, though. You really need to find a better girl” you advised.

“Too much work” he retorted tossing a box of cereal into the cart.

“Yet you’d put in the effort to have a fake girlfriend? Just imagine what you could get done if you actually tried.” Finding the box of protein bars on your shopping list, you placed it in the cart before wheeling around.

“You sound like my parents” he grunted, scratching the nape of his neck.

“Yes, that’s what every fake girlfriend likes to hear. She wants to know that she reminds you of your parents. God, that gets her all hot and bothered” you teased.

Chris gripped the cart near the handle, forcing you to stop moving. Had you gone too far?

Slowly he leaned in close making your heart beat quickly. With his serious manner, your mind went blank and got lost in those brilliantly blue eyes. His face was only inches away, his gaze never leaving yours.

He pulled away, revealing a can of pasta sauce in his hand. You turned your head realizing he grabbed the jar from behind you.

“Did that get you hot and bothered?” he cheekily asked with an eyebrow raised.

You scowled. Of course he was messing with you. Maybe men like Chris weren’t destined to settle down.

Grabbing the sauce from him, you put it in the cart before grabbing three more jars and two boxes of pasta. The only revenge you could do was to raise the bill. A cocky expression lingered on his face as he grinned at your flushed appearance.

“So it did?”

“Shut up, Chris.”

You typed away on your work keyboard, glancing at the clock every couple minutes. While you enjoyed Fridays, the anticipation for the weekend always made you antsy especially after lunch. The weekend was tangible but not in your grasp quite yet.

As five o’ clock rolled around, you quickly packed up and headed to your favorite cafe to meet up with your best friend. You hadn’t seen Tessa in a couple weeks so it was nice to finally catch up in person.

“Hey!” you threw your arms around Tessa, bringing her in for a tight hug.

The two of you settled into your seats before the waitress came by to take your order. Getting your usual, you asked Tessa how things were going. It was the typical response; everything was as good as they could be.

She watched you closely as the waitress set down glasses of water. “So...How are things with you?” she asked nonchalantly drumming her fingers across the table. You shrugged stating everything was relatively the same. The lie slipped out easier than you thought it would. While you didn’t like keeping secrets from her, the less people that knew about the circumstances the better.

“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

You hummed, bringing the cup to your mouth. “Not really” you played off casually.

“”Liar!” she shouted so loud causing you to choke. A couple people glanced your way but she paid no attention. Tessa yanked out her phone, smashing in her passcode before pulling up the photos of you with the two men.

You had two options: you could admit the truth or you could lie.For some reason you picked the latter. Trying to play it cool, you insisted that wasn’t you. “Th-That could be anyone” you nervously argued.

“Obviously that’s you” Tessa’s deadpan expression made it clear she wasn’t buying it. “You think I don’t know what my best friend looks like? Plus you’re wearing the skirt you borrowed from me two months ago with that coffee guy. I want that back by the way.”

You knew there was no point in denying any longer when she not only had proof but a tenacious attitude to back up her claims. So you admitted that you were in both those photos hoping she wouldn’t pry. Ever the optimistic thinking.

She stared at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. There was no way she was dropping the matter without hearing a proper explanation. While she expected to hear that you were just getting back in the dating pool, her eyes widened at the elaborate schemes currently going on.

Tessa had you break down everything slowly so she could fully process the situation. She grimaced at the mention of Jake, sticking out her tongue in disgust. Even when you were dating, Tessa never liked him and made no effort to disguise her feelings. You ignored the her comment about how either men was an upgrade from your ex.

Once you finished, you looked fixedly at her waiting to hear her final thoughts.

“So you’re dating two men?” Tessa posited looking for clarity on the situation.

“Technically no” you answered slowly.

“Oh, so you’re…” she paused, raising her eyebrows with a smirk. With one hand, she held up her pointer finger. With the other, she made a small circle connecting her thumb to the other pointer finger. She proceeded gesture crudely in and out of the circle, causing your face to redden.

“No!” You swatted her hands as she giggled. “It’s not like that!” Your face heated up at the idea of doing anything sexual with either of them.

“I know there wasn’t much you could really do about the Chris situation, but you didn’t have to go that far with Sebastian.” You blinked, confused by her words. “You realize you could’ve just told Jake that “Chris” was sick, right?” You said nothing, letting this sink in.

She was right. There had been no reason to drag Sebastian this far along. It could’ve been a brief coffee meeting with a “see you at the mandatory meetings and then never again” ending. Perhaps both of you were absolute morons.

“So...Should I just attend the gala by myself then?” you wondered out loud.

“You could. But knowing Jake, he’ll probably give you grief about you being by yourself” Tessa pointed out. That sounded highly probable. You could imagine Jake acting sympathetic, He would shoot you “poor Y/N is all by herself” looks with his arm snaked around whatever hot chick he decided to bring that night.

“Honestly I think it’d be nice for you to have a bit of arm candy by your side. It’d probably drive Jake crazy. Plus it’d be a nice confidence boost” she suggested. You mulled the thought, figuring it would be a nice blow to Jake’s ego. “I’m sure both boys would look good in a tux. Well, whichever one you choose to bring to the gala” she added.

“Stop!” you smacked her arm.

With a tut and a shake of her head, she laughed “Y’all are messy.��� She sipped her water as you heaved out a heavy breath. That was the understatement of the century.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @supernatural-girl97, @tomhaz, @sophiatomlinson23 | @achishisha, @almostrosadiazz, @allynalemons, @blueskiesbleakeyes, @jbarnes87, @kendratheweird, @kenzieiam (?), @sillydecoy

[scarletraven1001]

Impasse - Chapter 6

Chapter Summary: Bulma receives a phone call that causes another huge shift in her relationship with Vegeta, and a confrontation leads to events that neither of them would have ever expected.

Chapter warning: Sexual content.

All Chapters:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

Also on Ao3.

M-rated version on ff.net.

 8-8-8-8-8

Hi everyone! Here’s Chapter 6! Before you read this, please know that I love you all and pleasedontkillme.

And as always, your feedback will be greatly appreciated!

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Chapter 6: Crash

8-8-8-8-8

Monday mornings are typically hell.

Yet, even as Bulma waded through what appeared to be a raging river of paperwork and a deluge of emails, she couldn’t keep the brilliant smile off her face while a cheerful whistle damn near broke through her lips.

She was in a ridiculously good mood, and she knew exactly why.

She had just spent the most magical weekend with Vegeta, and she strongly believed that there was nothing on earth that could ruin her day.

She was still floating wistfully on a happy little cloud as she kept replaying her cabin-getaway with Vegeta in her head.

Vegeta had woken her up, bright and early on the second day of their weekend, with his sinfully nimble fingers tracing the curves of her body.

He had kissed her lazily, the movements of his lips against hers gentle and achingly sweet, his hands languidly touching her until she was so aroused and sensitive that even the feel of the smooth sheets against her skin felt too rough.

Laying on their sides, he’d spooned against her, raised her leg to sling it over his arm as he entered her from behind…

The tantalizing way he’d made love to her that morning brought tears to her eyes as she gasped, moaned and sobbed his name, pressing her hips against his until they came, groaning their pleasure against each other’s lips.

The rest of the day was spent mostly in each other’s arms; eating, cooking and laughing together; stealing kisses that led them back to bed, where they had sex several more times that day.

Just before sunset, they showered and packed up, and Vegeta drove them back to the city, holding her hand between the seats any chance he could.

He had dropped her off at her apartment, leaving her with a heart-stopping kiss before he himself headed home.

The thought of the previous day made a wide grin spread wide across her lips, even as she realized that she was actually still a bit sore from all their activities. She didn’t care.

Bulma was in love.

She was madly in love.

She finally understood the sentiments of all the romance novels she had ever read, of how time seems to stop when lovers look into each other’s eyes.

Her cellphone chiming beside her pulled her from her thoughts.

She had completely forgotten about the poor thing, stuck in her handbag since Saturday evening, and by the time she checked it late Sunday night, it was completely out of batteries.

She had plugged it into her computer’s USB port at work to charge it, and upon hearing the chime signaling a full charge, she unplugged it to turn it back on.

She placed her cellphone down beside her keyboard as it booted up, while she turned back to her monitor to read over another new email.

She replied to three emails before she glanced back at the cellphone, and her eyes widened as she saw the notification on her lock screen.

Two missed calls from Tights, from very late last Saturday night.

Worry filled her as she reached for the small phone, and she quickly called her sister back.

The call went straight to voicemail, and Bulma felt the concern well up in her chest.

She mentally scolded herself for stupidly letting her phone stay unattended for so long.

Nobody, other than Tights and the people she worked with, knew her number, and Bulma and Tights had promised to only call each other when it was absolutely important.

The paranoia gnawed at her insides as she stared at her phone screen. She was so focused on the small gadget that she nearly missed the ringing of her desk phone.

The choppy tone let her know that it was ringing from an outside line, and Bulma knitted her brows as she picked up.

“Ouji Enterprises, CEO Office, good morning,” she greeted.

Silence answered her from the other line.

“Hello?” she tried again. “Ouji Enterprises, who is on the line please?”

Static sounded from the other line, before she heard someone, a woman, clear her throat.

“Hello, Bulma,” the caller answered, and Bulma’s skin prickled in denial even as she immediately recognized the voice.

“Who is this?” she demanded, voice stern even though she was shaking on the inside.

“Come now dear,” the caller answered. “Don’t tell me you don’t know your own mother’s voice?”

Bulma’s blood went cold.

She had not spoken to either of her parents for the past seven months, and she was filled with dread as her worst fears scratched their way to the fore of her mind.

Perhaps… this was why Tights had tried to call her.

Her family had found her.

“Oh, I know. But I was hoping I was wrong,” she said coldly, fingers white as she clutched the phone tightly.

“You wound me, dear.”

“What do you want mom, and how did you find me here?” she asked, desperately wanting to put the phone down, to run as far away from this threat as possible and seek shelter within the only place she really felt safe and protected.

She needed Vegeta.

Her heart pounded, everything within her screaming for Vegeta, for him to come and save her from what was happening, even as her mother kept talking.

“It wasn’t hard dear. Your name isn’t very common, and your father is connected to several people linked to Ouji,” she said, and Bulma could just see the usual placid smile on her mother’s face, framed by her deceivingly innocent blonde curls.

“Why are you calling me?”

Panchy paused. “Oh my. You really are still angry, aren’t you?”

“Of course!” Bulma cried, cupping her hand around the mouthpiece to keep her voice down.

“Well do you want me to apologize? Because you know we were right. Your best course is to manage Capsule Corp.”

Bulma was strangling her mother in her mind.

“No, I do not need your apology. I also know now, that I really don’t need the family to make a name for myself. I am doing very well here at Ouji.”

Her mother sighed. “You are living in an apartment complex that is smaller than our living room. Your whole flat is probably smaller than my bathroom. You are driving a car that is older than you are. How could you say that you are doing well?”

“Is there a point to this call?” she asked sharply. She was really losing her patience.

“I just want you to come home, Bulma,” Panchy said. “Honey, I know you are still miffed but your father and I miss you.”

“I’m not going back, mom,” she spat. Vegeta’s stern face - lowered brows, pursed lips and all - appeared in her mind’s eye as she continued. “I am having fun here in Ouji. I am needed here, and here, they understand my worth.”

“How long are you going to keep this up? You’ve made your point. Now come back home.”

“I am not doing this just to prove a point to you and dad,” Bulma seethed. “I like it here. I like my job.”

“Is it really your job that you like, Bulma?”

Bulma froze, her mind already supplying the upcoming insinuation.

“Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say…” she thought, as the words she had been dreading fell into her ears from her mother’s careless mouth.

“Or is it that very handsome young CEO?”

“Mother, you dare suggest-”

“Oh, please Bulma,” Panchy continued. “I am your mother. I know you, so don’t even deny it. Besides, I’ve seen the photos.”

Bulma’s breath left her, leaving her nearly gasping with shock.

“Photos?” she asked, her whole body numb.

“You’re the genius, sweetie. Did you really not realize that the paparazzi would have photos of you by now?” her mother asked calmly. “How do you think we finally ascertained where you were?”

Panchy pushed on. “I really liked the one where you were standing outside a coffee shop and he was holding your drink for you while you were fixing his tie. You both looked so relaxed. I haven’t seen you smile that widely since you finished your Business degree.”

Bulma couldn’t speak. She was flabbergasted, stunned by the realization that she hadn’t been careful enough.

“But,” the elder woman was still speaking, and her every word was creating a bigger and bigger chasm in Bulma’s chest. “You know which one was my favorite? My favorite was the one that a paparazzo tried to sell to me yesterday, in return for his silence. It is quite controversial, after all… You, and your boss, outside a gas station store near the city border, holding hands and looking so sweet together!”

The world could have ceased spinning, and Bulma wouldn’t have noticed.

“Gosh Bulma, you really are just like Tights, after all!”

Bulma finally snapped out of her stupor, and with a furious cry, slammed her phone back into its cradle.

She stared at the phone, horror gripping her as she breathed hard, tears of fury and frustration gathering in her eyes.

Her mother knew.

She knew about her and Vegeta, and now the thing that she feared most was unfolding before her.

Her mother saw her as cheap.

She could hear it in the sarcastic tones of her voice, could remember the insulting words the blonde matron had used to talk about Tights after they found out that she was pregnant by her publisher.

Now, her mother, and possibly her father, probably knew for sure that she was cozy with her boss.

All of her insecurities, her reservations about being with Vegeta, were rising to the fore of her mind, clawing at her chest until the malicious miasma of guilt and shame overwhelmed her once again.

She had made a mistake.

She had forgotten what she came to Ouji for, lost in the caresses and the soft pleasure of Vegeta’s hands and lips…

She had let herself fall in love with the man who she knew she had only come to work for since she needed a leg up in the corporate world.

Stupidly, she had become complacent and let herself come to him, welcoming him into her arms and surrendering her body and soul to the mesmerizing darkness of his eyes.

The past few days, previously a beautiful memory, became tainted to her, and she held a hand to her chest as the pain of loss and denial pounded through her, clawing at her and leaving her bleeding.

She had let herself become so enamored with a man who had never once really told her what he truly wanted from her, and excruciating pain ripped her apart as she realized that, though she loved him, he had never said that he loved her, as well.

She had risked her career and reputation for someone who possibly didn’t even feel for her as deeply as she did for him.

This cannot go on.

Her desk phone rang again, and visceral terror held her immobile, her fingers seizing and refusing to pick it up. It took her several moments before she realized that the tone was the regular ringer, meaning that the call was coming from within the office.

“Hello?” she answered, voice shaking slightly.

“Bulma?” the cheery voice of a young man answered.

“Yes, Goku?”

“I just wanted to invite you coz it’s Launch’s birthday today, and big bro Raditz prepared a surprise party in the dining area here in HR,” he said. “Can you and Vegeta come?”

She smiled. Goku was always a ray of sunshine and she had no doubt that he was the one who pushed his elder brother into organizing a party for Launch.

“I’m not sure, Goku. Vege-,” she cleared her throat as she caught herself. “Ouji-san is very busy right now.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. I was hoping you could come because,” Goku lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I think my brother is gonna ask Launch to be his girlfriend today!”

Her smile turned watery as unbidden envy flooded her.

Launch was a normal woman who did office work for a living. She didn’t grow up with a huge trust fund, and wasn’t smart enough to be accelerated a grade every two years. She wasn’t lucky or gifted like Bulma.

However, her life was normal.

She had a normal love life. She had dated Tien, had recently begun dating Raditz, and now Raditz was officially asking her to be his girlfriend.

Why is it that women like Launch could have it so easy, while Bulma, who was supposed to be lucky and gifted, was agonizing over the circumstances surrounding the first man she had ever loved?

“I’m… I’m sorry, Goku. I really don’t think I can come,” she said, choking back a bitter sob that rose in the back of her throat.

“Oh, that sucks. I'll just save you some cake and I’ll bring it up to you, alright?” he said. “You sound a little sad, maybe the sweets could cheer you up!”

Sometimes, Goku surprised Bulma by how perceptive he could be.

“That would be nice, Goku,” she answered before she put the phone down.

She sighed, before she leaned down, placed her head in her hands, and held back the tears that wanted to stream down her face.

Her heart felt hollow, bleeding at the thought of what she now knew she had to do.

She shook her head as she remembered how happy she had been just a few minutes ago, and how she realized that a part of her also felt like it was all too good to be true.

She knew it.

The peaceful past few days had truly been too wonderful to last.

As impossibly painful as it would be for her, she had to stay away from Vegeta.

.

8-8-8-8-8

She knew that staying away from him was not going to be easy.

However… she had still underestimated how hard it would actually be.

On Monday afternoon, she had avoided him by leaving her post five minutes too early, keeping her cellphone off until she reached home.

He had texted her twice.

> “Hey are you alright? Have you left? I can’t find you.”

> “Will you text me when you get home? Just let me know that you are alright.”

She had replied with a simple, “Yes, I am at home and I am alright. See you at work tomorrow.”

She had booked him full with meetings and appointments all day on Tuesday and Wednesday, only coming into his office to get his signature on papers, taking his calls respectfully and avoiding coming into his office when she knew they would be alone.

The whole time, she dodged his questioning glances and his increasingly agitated state. She made sure to leave work early so as to avoid confrontations with him.

She knew he was worried and was puzzled as to why, after they had made such amazing progress in their relationship – whatever relationship ­it was – she was suddenly pulling away from him, yet again.

She thought she saw his car parked outside her apartment when she looked out the window, late Thursday night.

On the last day of the work week, it appeared that he had finally had enough.

He was a boss from hell all of Friday, terrorizing their staff and making one of the call center employees burst into tears.

He tore savagely into Nappa regarding a small budgeting issue, and the large bald man looked so red from humiliation and distress that Bulma thought he would burst.

Not even Tarble was safe from his misplaced ire, as Vegeta had harshly criticized his younger brother’s proposals and went so far as to call him “unacceptably incompetent”.

Bulma winced every single time a forlorn face slumped sadly out of his office, as she knew that she was the reason for Vegeta’s aggression.

She had to put an end to this.

She had been a coward, hiding and running from him, when what she needed to do was just talk to him…

Just tell him…

That they were done.

Her chest constricted painfully at the thought.

Because for all of Bulma’s false bravado and her supposedly final decision to let go of whatever it was they had between them, she knew that she didn’t really want to do it.

She was such a fucking coward that she was even running away from the thought of running away from him.

Since when had she been so weak?

Nearly an hour before the end of the work day, her desk phone rings, and she stills as she sees the caller ID.

Vegeta was calling her.

“Yes, Ouji-san?” she answers as she picks up, wincing at the crack she hears in her voice.

“Come into my office, now,” he commands, before he slams the phone on her.

Bulma takes several deep breaths, trying to clear her chaotic thoughts for a few precious seconds before she stands up and begins to make her way to Vegeta’s office.

The usual walk to his office seemed to take forever, as Bulma’s feet felt heavier than lead, each step becoming almost physically agonizing until she finally reached the door. She pressed the door lock, and the soft beep that went with the unlocking mechanism sounded like trumpets in her ears.

She pushed the door open, and she was surprised to find that Vegeta was not at his desk like usual. Her eyes panned around until she found him, standing near the glass walls, his back to her as he stood unmoving.

It reminded her of the first time she had ever seen him, standing regal and intimidating, attuned to her every movement even as his body language shouted indifference.

However, something was strangely different about his stance now, and it only took Bulma a moment to realize why.

He was standing slightly hunched forward, his arms hanging limply from his side. He wasn’t looking out the glass wall, but blindly staring at it, with his jaw clenched hard as he visibly ground his teeth.

He looked so angry and yet, so utterly defeated, that Bulma wanted to rush to him and hold him… everything else be damned.

But even as she wished it, her own stubborn resolve bubbled forth, pushing her to stick with her plan to stay away from him.

She wanted him. She needed him. But she needed to be strong, as well.

When he finally turned away from the wall, he simply watched her out of the corner of his eyes, not fully facing her as he began to speak, a low, dejected monotone that broke her heart as thoroughly as any insult or angry tirade ever could.

“I don’t understand you, Bulma. I don’t understand any of this-” he broke off as he shook his head, gesturing vaguely between them. “I need to know why you keep doing this to me.”

“Vegeta,” she began, but he raised a hand, halting her words.

“I don’t want any shallow ramblings,” he said, a tremulous note edging his voice, before he finally turned around, his gaze stabbing through her in its intensity.

His voice was hoarse as he stared at her accusingly, fists clenching convulsively at his sides. “I need to understand. Why it’s like this… Why you always… I… I want an answer, god dammit!”

She trembled, opening her mouth to answer, but no words would come out.

“Are you toying with me?”

That broke her of her silence, and she answered in a choked half-shout, her voice breaking, “No!”

“Are you with anyone else?”

“No…”

He advanced towards her, and she flinched away from him as he approached. He reached up, hands grabbing at her upper arms, forcing her to look at him.

His eyes were blazing now, mouth twisted up in a scowl. He looked ready to scream at her, strangle her even, but he suddenly deflated, his hands holding her gently even in his apparent rage.

Bulma choked back a sob at the conflicted look in his eyes.

“Then, why?” he asked, his voice so uncharacteristically meek that Bulma wanted to go and fling herself into his arms and smooth his pain away.

“I…” she started, eyes filling with tears as even she questioned herself. “I’m sorry, Vegeta.”

“Don’t just tell me you’re sorry, Bulma,” he whispered. “Tell me why. I need to know why. Why can’t you be with me?”

“I just… I just can’t!” Bulma sobbed, the tears finally falling, rushing down her cheeks in a torrent of emotion that left her dizzy with sorrow.

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

She closed her eyes, unable to stand the anguish that she could see swimming in his eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t!” she cried, trying unsuccessfully to pull herself from his grasp.

“Then why won’t you tell me why? Is it… is it just because you don’t want me?” he asked, pulling her, shaking her gently in a silent plea for her to look back at him. “Have I… have I just been alone in thinking there was something here, Bulma? Have I… Have I forced myself on you?”

Her eyes shot open at his question, her tears ceasing. “No! No, you… you have never forced yourself on me. I… I let you hold me… because I wanted it, too.”

“Then I will never understand,” he hissed, finally letting her go, turning back to face the glass wall.

He stared blankly out the scenery, and Bulma heard his deep, harsh breaths, echoing in the silence of the room.

“I want you to know,” he said, his voice edged in ice, “that you have made me absolutely miserable. I am so confused and dismal. I don’t like feeling this way. This… distress that I am going through… I’m not used to this. And frankly, I hate it. And I blame you for this.”

Her hackles rose at his words. “You think this is easy for me? I’m confused, too! I’ve never experienced this before. I don’t understand you either! I don’t know what you want from me-”

“What have I ever done to make this confusing for you, Bulma?” he demanded, turning to face her again, face contorted in rage. “What do you want me to say? I have told you. I want you… I want you with me always! I need you to be with me. You’re the only woman I want! What part of that is so hard to understand?!”

“The part where you never said what I need you to say!” she shouted, her hands flying to her chest, clutching herself as if her holding on to her chest would keep her heart from breaking. “The part where you don’t feel for me the way I feel for you.”

She felt disconnected from her own mind, and the words tumbled from her lips without thought. “You swept me up like a fucking hurricane and I can’t believe how I have lost so much control, given you my everything, and turned myself into such a wanton harlot for you!”

She stilled as those words left her lips, and she watched as he too froze, pain and disbelief mingling in his eyes.

All the fight left him right then, as he slouched forward, hands going into the pockets of his pants before he turned around, leaving her to stare after his back once again.

She swallowed, “Vegeta… Vegeta, I’m sorry, I-”

“Just go, Bulma,” he said softly, defeated. “If that’s how you feel, then there is nothing more to discuss.”

“Vegeta, I…”

“Leave, woman,” he said forcefully, but Bulma swore that his voice was choked up.

Unable to take any more, she turned around, and fled the room as fast as she could.

She grabbed her bag from her desk as she ran, ignoring the worried glances from her co-workers as the tears fell from her eyes again, staining her cheeks and falling into her lips.

She could still taste the salt of her grief as she drove home, knuckles white as she gripped her steering wheel with unnecessary force.

She was heartbroken… She felt like she was dying.

It was over.

It was over between them now.

Her heart twisted into knots in her chest, and she raised a hand to her breast as she felt a very distinct pinch where she knew her heart was supposed to be.

She loved him. And now she had given him up.

She would always hate herself for what she had done.

.

8-8-8-8-8

On Saturday, Bulma woke near noon, and didn’t get up until three hours later.

She didn’t bother with a shower. Didn’t have the strength or will to eat.

In her abject misery, she had gone to her jewelry box and lifted out the beautiful crescent-shaped necklace that Vegeta had given her, seemingly an eternity ago.

She put it on, watching it sway cheerfully across her throat, as she resolved to quit her job first thing on Monday morning.

She couldn’t bear to work with him, couldn’t endure being around him, while knowing that she had lost him.

The necklace was the only thing she had.

If he asked her to return it, she would.

Thus, she would wear it now, so she would never have to forget the feel of the cool metal around her neck.

The same way she would never wish to forget to feel of his hands on her, the touch of his lips on her own.

The way his voice softened slightly whenever he said her name.

She had only one picture with him, a blurry selfie she took beside him after they were done fishing in the river outside his cabin, and she scrambled to pull her phone out of her bag so she could pull it up and stare at it.

Her lips trembled as she took in his pouting face and her wide smile as she held up the large fish she had caught. It was such a happy day, and she dearly wished that it had never ended.

It would have been wonderful if they had just stayed in that cabin forever.

Late that night, she was sitting dejectedly in front of her television, staring listlessly at the rerun of a terrible TV movie that she had once laughed at with Vegeta.

She was huddled beneath a blanket on the couch, eyes puffy from crying, and desperately yearning to run back to Vegeta and beg him to forgive her and take her back.

Bulma was startled from her misery when her cellphone began to ring.

She stared at the blasted thing in trepidation, not knowing if she should pick up or just let it ring.

It was very late at night, and the phone was slightly out of her reach, so Bulma decides to ignore it.

The phone rings incessantly until the line finally cuts off.

She goes back to her movie, staring numbly at it as she hoped that the unbelievably stupid plot could melt her brain enough to let her fall asleep.

The phone rings again.

Now curious, Bulma reaches over and peers into it.

“What the…?” she mutters as she sees the name of the caller. “Why would Goku be calling me at this time?”

She picks up the phone, and swipes on the screen to answer it.

“Hello?” she answers.

The line was noisy, with garbled voices and short alarms in the background. She brought the phone closer to her ear as she spoke into it again. “Goku? Hello?”

“Bulma!” Goku nearly shouted into the phone, surprising her with the sense of urgency in his tone.

“Goku, what is it?” she asked.

“Bulma! Please, you gotta come! I was visiting my girlfriend during her shift when I saw them bring him in! Please you gotta come to South-West!”

“Wait, what?” Bulma knew that Goku’s girlfriend, Chichi, was a night shift receptionist at South-West Medical Center. “Goku, I don’t understand. What’s happening?”

“He’s here! They wheeled him in just now and I think it’s bad, Bulma!”

A sudden, inexplicable tendril of terror crawled through her spine, and trepidation choked her as she spoke again. “Goku, please, you’re not making sense!”

“He got into an accident, Bulma! Vegeta was in an accident and he’s bleeding hard and it looks bad!”

Bulma gasped.

The cellphone clattered onto the floor as it slipped from her trembling fingers.

.

8-8-8-8-8

To be continued…

Read Next.

[podcastcoach]

You Can't Buy An Audience If Your Podcast Sucks

Today we talk about the 1.7 billion dollar mistake that was Quibi and how we can learn from their mistake. We also take a look at the power of follow up questions, and the best place to buy gear. 

Table of Contents

01:22 Your Favorite Podcast - Send in Your Answer 02:56 Now That's A Good Question: Howard Stern and Wolfgang Van Halen 06:35 Join the School of Podcasting 07:33 Lessons From Quibi 13:24 They Blew Their Launch 16:12 Big Name Celebrities 19:02 Make It Easy To Share Your Content 21:05 It's Not the Tech 23:28 Clueless About the Competition 29:49 Who is the Audience? 33:29 The Best Place to Buy Gear: Sweetwater 36:07 Your Audience Awaits Exercise

How to Avoid the 1.7 Billion Dollar Mistake that Was Quibi

Quibi is an over-the-top American short-form streaming platform that generates content for viewing on mobile devices. It was founded in Los Angeles in August 2018 as NewTV by Jeffrey Katzenberg (chairman of Walt Disney Studios from 1984 to 1994) and is led by Meg Whitman ( She is a board member of Procter & Gamble and Dropbox. Whitman was previously president and CEO of Hewlett Packard Enterprise), its CEO.

In 2019 Variety reported that Quibi had secured 100 million dollars in advertising before the service had even launched.

On February 2, 2020, they spent $5.6 million for 30 seconds on an ad in the Super Bowl that was seen by a reported 99.9 million viewers.  That is $18 per person if you round up. This for a service where subscribers can get the service for $5 per month with ads, or $8 per month without them.  That $5.6 million was a drop in the bucket.

The commercial was really stupid and didn't really answer or explain what the heck it was. You just knew it was less than 10 minutes. They explained what is was, but not so much why it was or how you would benefit.

It raised $1.75 billion from investors. It had a variety of shows featuring originals with Jennifer Lopez, Chrissy Teigen, Chance the Rapper, Liam Hemsworth, Sophie Turner, Lena Waithe, Nicole Richie, Reese Witherspoon. Quibi offered a 90-day free trial to those who sign up on its website before April 6. Overall, it plans to release 175 original shows and 8,500 episodes in the first year.

Their lineup has a ton of stars, celebrities, etc

It launched on April 6, 2020. It is set to shut down "on or about" December 1, 2020. December 1 is 239 days. That is $7,322,175.73 a day. Here is my thoughts on why this was such an epic fail.

They Blew Their Launch

When you spend $5.6 million dollars on a Super Bowl ad, they should have an idea what you do and what is in it for them. In the event, the ad inspired people to check out the service (it didn't), you should be able to go check it out and not have to wait four months. Yes, you can build buzz, but for me, I never heard from quibi again.

Putting All Their Faith in Celebrities

Here are some of the names that appear on shows: Jennifer Lopez, Kristen Bell, Nick Jonas, Tracy Morgan, Aaron Rodgers, Yara Shahidi, Gabriel Iglesias, Anthony Davis, Kevin Hart and Karlie Kloss. Cardi B, Chance the Rapper, Dapper Dan, Jay Leno, and Wolfgang Puck (and that's just some).

The people involved had experience Phil Abraham has directed the Sopranos, Madmen, Daredevil, Ozark.

No Compelling Content

Yet, there was no breakout show that inspired the people who had found Quibi to tell a friend about Quibi. Nobody was compelled to tell a friend. They did recaps of the previous days news or sports updates. WOW what revolutionary content!

They Made it Hard To Share

According to Media Analyst Josh Consine there was no sharing capability (no screenshots) which limited your ability to go viral. When it first launched you could only watch it on your phone. There were no apps, not Fire TV, Chromecast. They made it "hard" to consume. They took away choices from the consumer.

They Put Their Faith in the Tech

One thing that set them apart was a feature called Turnstyle. This meant that if you rotate the phone horizontal to verticle, you would get a different camera angle. Neat? Sure. Something so cool I had to tell my friends? Apparently not as I had never heard of it until I started researching how you blow 1.7 billion and lose. In a nutshell, Turnstyle served you two video streams simultaneously and “stitches them together” with a single audio track.

Since we're talking about the Tech, a company sued Quibi shortly after their launch company called Eko alleged that Quibi stole the technology after Eko demoed it to employees of the company, including founder and chairman Jeffrey Katzenberg. Even when you have billions in funding, lawsuits are expensive.

Clueless About the Competition

They were charging $5/$8 a month for new content. Look at Disney, Netflix, Hul. While they have original content, they all have old favorites as well. They also have a way to add more than one person under your account (so when your kids login under your account your recommendations don't all turn into cartoons). This was not the case to Quibi. It figured each person was watching on their phone. One person per account. This gets expensive and now anyone who wants to see what you're talking about has to use your phone.

It is reported that CEO Whitman repeatedly said "We're not competing with Netflix." Think about that one for a minute. That's like a radio station saying, "All of our songs are under four minutes long. We don't compete with other stations."

Lack Of Focus Group?

In one article that was published right after they launched it stated, "Quibi’s executives have hinted that the company will deliver on a TV experience if customer feedback and data warrant it. " Well they did add support for Apple's airplay and Chromecast, but at the expense of the Turnstyle technology. They did release an app for Roku and Fire TV - the day before they announced were closing down.

It seemed like they didn't understand how people used their phones or consumed content.

Did they think that because the average length of a YouTube video is 11 minutes that making "short" videos would be the key? Meanwhile, TikTok was taking off with all sorts of celebrities making their own channels. TikTok is free. Did Quibi follow the Facebook strategy and buy them or "borrow features" and add them to their platform? No. They were doing something different and nobody cared.

They Didn't Answer the Number Question: WHO IS YOUR AUDIENCE

The idea was people could watch these short clips while waiting in line, or on the bus. When you think of people consuming content on their phone you might think it would be younger people. Yet you're trying to attract those people with Steven Spielberg and Jay Leno? Sure Cardi B appeared in an episode, but they needed to define. If the content is for busy people, who are the busy people and what do they want to watch?

According to an article in Forbes, Katzenberg and Whitman said, "We created a new form of mobile-first premium storytelling."

They did. But the stories weren't any good.

Now That's a Good Question

02:56  Today we listen to Howard Stern ask a great follow-up question to Wolfgang Van Halen. While he started off with a yes/no question, but then asked a few follow-up questions lead to the information you can't get anyplace else, and listen to how Howard shuts up and lets Wolfgang wrestle with a potentially uncomfortable topic. 

Sweetwater is My New Favorite Place to Order Gear

33:29 My co-host for Ask the Podcast Coach Jim Collison ordered something from Sweetwater and told me about their INSANE customer service. I recently saw where they were one of the few people to have the new Zoom Podtrak P4 IN STOCK and I see what he means. I was called to let me know my order had shipped, and to let me know if I had any issues I could call them. So here is why I think they are the best:

Prices are just as good (and in some cases better) than Amazon

Free shipping (even on small stuff)

Built-in two-year warranty 

Free tech support 

Payment plans available if needed.

My goal is to build more of a relationship with Sweetwater (as I have a dedicated rep) which should keep me in touch with podcasting technology going forward. In full disclosure, I earn a referral reward (but that's why I ordered something as I wanted to see for myself) 

Your Audience Awaits Exercise

I'm listening to the book Unhackable: The 30-Day Elixir for Creating Flawless Ideas, Leveraging Superhuman Focus, and Achieving Optimal Performance Through Flow its a very interesting book that you can listen/read to one chapter per day. The one exercise was to write yourself an email from your future audience as is these people who are waiting for you to start your show. SO MANY TIMES I hear people worried about having trolls or people say negative things. I say, What about ALL THE POSITIVE that could happen?

Think of going to your inbox and see an email with the title, "Just wanted to say Thank you." You open it and it starts, "Hello, I just wanted to reach out. You may not believe this but due to your podcast.... 

and the listener explains how you made them feel. How they no longer felt alone. How they were taken to a place where the stress of work, life, and more melted away. 

This could happen. But your podcast can't help people if you don't start your podcast. You can't update a show that doesn't exist. Please let me help you, as your audience is waiting. 

Check out this episode!

[vintagemichelle91]

A Hard Lesson in Incrimination: Chapter 12

Authors’ Note: Happy Halloween dear readers!!! Has Natalia cracked the case? What does Cutter have to say for himself? Once again @rauliskafan and I love and appreciate the feedback and we look to hearing from you!!

           “How did you know about Rafael in the alley?”

           Forcing a laugh, Cutter began to back away, but Natalia saw to it that the smallest of gaps stayed between them.

           “No, Mr. Cutter,” she continued. “How did you know? Rafael didn’t say anything about... And Ms. Pond wouldn’t…”

           Narrowing her eyes, she searched Cutter’s gaze. His stare darted towards the shadows of the night, and she felt her breath starting to catch in her throat, swallowing hard before her words came out once more.

           “What about it, Mr. Cutter?” she asked. “How did you know?”

           “The… the DA’s office does have their own investigators, Mrs. Barba,” he slowly reminded her.

           “You think I’m unaware of that?” Natalia countered, her legs quivering where she stood as she held her ground. “I’m Rafael Barba’s wife… I know the score.”

           “Guess you do,” Cutter said, sheepishly hanging his head. “Well… it’s been a long night. Maybe you need to get home to your daughters.”

           “Soon,” Natalia said. “I want Rafael there with me.”

           “Mrs. Barba, I already told you that---”

           “And I wonder,” Natalia said. “I wonder why you were so quick to believe Eve’s claim that Rafael forced her into bed. Why would he do that? He was working his way back to first chair. Why take Eve’s word over my husband’s?”

           “Careful,” Cutter warned. “Are you really blaming another woman for Rafael’s sins? I understand that a certain Dr. Alexander’s wife once made a similar move.”

           “Don’t do that,” Natalia hissed. “I’ve survived… I’ve been on the other side of this.”

           “Yes, I’ve read Robert Emerson’s trial transcript,” Cutter said, trying for an empathetic tone.

           “But that does not mean that I’m blind to the women who make it worse for the real victims,” Natalia said.

           “Now you sound like Lieutenant Benson,” Cutter quipped, looking ready to flee the scene. “I really don’t have the time for---”

           “Eve emailed you the audio file from her apartment,” Natalia pressed, stepping fast to stop his flight and glaring into the DA’s eyes.

           “Old news, Mrs. Barba.”

           “But why you?” she asked.

           “I don’t… maybe to bolster her case against your husband,” Cutter said, his voice growing more frustrated. “Isn’t that obvious?”

           “Then why not play that card as soon as Eve died?” Natalia challenged. “You sat on it for almost a week while the squad scrambled. When Amanda was in the crossfire.”

           “I… well I…”

           While he struggled for an answer, Natalia scanned his face, and a million possibilities flickered through her mind.

           “Because you didn’t want to play that hand just yet,” she said. “You know Rafael. And you had to be pretty sure that he would fall on his sword for Amanda. For Mike.”

           “Well, I suppose that’s in his character but---”

           “Exactly,” Natalia continued, cutting him off. “You knew that then. You know that now.”

           She shuddered while speaking the words and saw Cutter start to explain but pushed forward.

           “If you were on the side of truth, you would have revealed it the next morning,” Natalia argued. “No. You wanted to drive the final nail into my husband’s coffin when he was at his most vulnerable point. To… to save your own skin.”

           For a second, Cutter looked ready to contradict her claim, but Natalia intensified her stare saw him fall silent.

           “Did that hit a little too close to home?” she asked. “I really always did wonder why you took her side so quickly.”

           “Because… because Rafael had every reason to---”

           “Because you had every reason,” she shot back. “Why did Eve think that she could get away with the case against Julian Frost? Maybe because she was close to someone on her side of the aisle?”

           “Well… Carisi…”

           “No!” Natalia insisted. “Not Sonny. It… it was you. Were you sleeping with her? Did you… was it your idea to stage the case against Julian Frost?”

           “No,” Cutter said. “I wouldn’t… I studied at the feet of Jack McCoy for Christ’s sake.”

           “Heard he was creative on occasion, too,” Natalia said.

           “Not like that!” Cutter bellowed. “And Eve swore that there was no way it would go wrong…”

           His voice trailed off, but Natalia never left his eyes as Cutter seemed to shrink before her.

           “You were there,” she said. “That night. What did you do? Step over Rafael while he was bleeding in the alley? Hide in the closet when Amanda ran? Did you watch us go back inside? Were you giddy as all get out when Mike came by and---”

           “Stop it, Mrs. Barba! Right now!”

           Natalia gasped as Cutter lunged forward, his hand on her arm as he pulled her close to his chest, his eyes wide and wild, licking his lips and sputtering before he spoke.

           “I… you… you think you know me?” he challenged. “You think I liked being the next in line and then getting demoted to SVU bureau chief?”

           “I don’t care about the politics,” Natalia said as she tried to break away from him. “It wasn’t the same as having your whole reputation decimated.”

           “You wouldn’t know!” he spat. “Having to teach when I should be---”

           “Nothing wrong with teaching,” Natalia said.

           “Fair enough! And after Collier Ward, I clawed my way back in. But then there was Eve...”

           His hold weakened, and his back hit the short wall surrounding the rooftop as he scrubbed one hand over his face.

           “I made a mistake,” he continued. “Okay? I should have just sat in the big chair and let that be enough. But Eve…”

           Biting back the bile rising in her throat, Natalia forced herself to focus on his contorting face and saw his knees start to buckle before he stood up straighter and gritted his teeth.

           “Color me a cliché, Mrs. Barba,” he said. “She had a sad story, and I fell for it. For her. She snapped her fingers, and I showed up at her place. That night. And she wanted Rafael to pay… would you believe me if I told her it was a road too far? When she said she’d have my head if I didn’t leak the tape it to save her career?”

           Recalling every second of Eve, the syrupy smiles actually laced in arsenic, Natalia pressed her palms to her sides and drew in a deep breath.

           “She was… damaged,” Natalia said. “Maybe I could muster some sympathy if she hadn’t tried to frame my husband.”

           “More than that,” Cutter murmured.

           “What do you mean?”

           The DA glanced over his shoulder, his stare shifting to the city street before he met her eyes once more.

           “Don’t go soft on me now, Mrs. Barba,” he scoffed. “Who do you think scampered down the fire escape and knocked you husband before planning to stage a crime scene in her very own home?”

           Never Rollins. Cutter wouldn’t have wanted to get his hands that dirty just yet. But Eve…

           “So she… and you just left him down there bleeding?” Natalia asked with teary eyes. “He… what if I hadn’t---?”

           “What if she’d lived and dragged him down even lower?” Cutter demanded.

           “Lower… my husband was raped!” Natalia said, her anger rising as her hands curled into fists. “How much worse---?”

           “No worse if he had just taken a plea!” Cutter said. “Manslaughter maybe! Your youngest daughters might not have even missed him that much.”

           “You have no idea,” Natalia seethed.

           In the moonlight, the color drained from his face, and Cutter’s breath came quick.

           “Fine. But believe this, too; I just pushed her. She hit her head. It was an accident. And maybe I would have… but your cab showed up… and then Detective Rollins… so I’m a coward, okay? Hate me.”  

           She wanted to. She wanted to smack him across the face and let her screams fill his ears at the thought of her husband hurt and nearly destroyed. But before she could make the move, she heard two voices floating in the air behind her.

           “Natalia?” Fin called out. “You---?”

           “Fin!” Natalia cried out. “It was Cutter! He killed---!”

           “Steady on!”

           Harker aimed her gun, and Natalia looked back to see Cutter pull a pistol from his pocket. She had said too much, part of her wanting to dial the moment back. But his weapon was locked and loaded.

           “Wait!” Natalia screeched. “Please don’t---”

           Her skin turned to ice as she watched his finger curl around the trigger. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she spied the light from Rafael’s hospital room, and she pictured him shattered, scared and counting the seconds until he could see her again. Would she leave him, lose him like this? How would he ever recover?

           “I should have known,” Cutter said, his forehead dotted with sweat as he took a few steps back and kept the gun poised. But before she could plead for her life, for her family, and for their future, Cutter twisted his wrist…

           …and pressed the barrel of the gun to his beaded brow.

           “Don’t do it man!” Fin called out, creeping closer with Harker at his side.

           “Why not?” Cutter asked. “I mean… she figured it out. Probably only a matter of time. It was me, okay? I killed Eve Selby.”

           “And what was the plan?” Fin asked, inching closer to Natalia and gently pushing her towards Harker who tried to bring the other woman behind her back. But on that point, Natalia wasn’t budging. “Send Barba up the river and go on with business as usual?”

           “Barba or Rollins or someone!” Cutter said. “Everyone almost bought it. All he had to do was allocute.”

           “Do you honestly think he would have done that?” Natalia asked.

           “Doesn’t matter now,” Cutter spat. “Time to check out.”

           “Wait!”

           Pushing past Fin and finding herself perilously close to the man with the gun, Natalia reached her fingers up and just touched the steel.

           “Natalia, get back!” Fin ordered.

           She held her other hand behind her back, her palm pressed to the air as she looked into Cutter’s eyes.

           “You think I should let you do this,” she whispered. “That it’ll fix everything.”

           “Won’t it?” Cutter asked.

           Her anger still circled the rooftop, but Natalia let her eyes drift back to Rafael’s room. After everything that had happened, he was still alive. Rollins was safe at home with Jesse. And maybe Carisi. Dodds still had Maggie who loved him forever and always.

           “No,” Natalia said. “This has to stop. No one else needs to die.”

           Her stare shifted towards his hand starting to shake, and Natalia held her breath as she grabbed the gun and guided it away from his temple. Cutter sank to the ground, and Natalia felt Fin pull her back before slapping handcuffs on the DA.

           “How much did you hear?” Natalia asked.

           “Plenty,” Fin said. “Soon as it started to sound shady, Brenna here got her phone. And got it on tape.”

           “You did?” Natalia eagerly asked as Harker showed her another audio file.

           “Not just your word now, Natalia,” Harker said. “Or ours. Now the truth is unburied. And stays that way.”

           Cutter’s eyes were glazed as the blonde and Fin started to take him in. Was that relief in his eyes? His lips curled into the smallest of smiles as they lead him back to the stairwell.

           And there was only one place where she needed to be.

           Rushing back to her husband’s room, longing to hold him and tell him that the case was cracked, she stopped short at the sound of the phone buzzing in her purse. Fishing through the bag and seeing her mother’s number, Natalia swiftly answered the call.

           “Mommy?” she asked.

           “No it me!”

           “Sweet pea!”

           Trembling with joy and steadying herself against the nearest wall, Natalia nibbled her lower lip and listened to her little girl talk a mile a minute.

           “Mami! Where are you now? You not going away, too?”

           “No,” Natalia whispered, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry if you woke up scared. I…”

           She couldn’t finish the thought, coiling her fingers around the phone and feeling the tears start to stream down her cheeks.

           “Are you crying, Mami?” Violetta asked.

           “No… no more tears, Violetta,” she promised, wiping her face with her sleeve and climbing back to her feet. “And so soon now I’m bringing your Papi home.”

           “Really?” Violetta hopefully asked. “You telling me the truth, Mami?”

           Picturing her daughter’s hopeful smile paired with nervous tears, Natalia spoke fast.

           “Always, sweet pea,” she assured her. “We’ll both be home before you know it.”

           “Oh, Mami, yay!” Natalia squealed. “I have to tell Ash… can I talk to Papi right now?”

           She had made her way to Rafael’s room, and Natalia was ready to call his name, to tell him that his daughter was desperate to hear his voice. But his battered form shivered under the sheets leaving Natalia to grasp the doorframe and lower her voice to a whisper.

           “Papi… he’s resting,” she said.

           “He been gone so long he must be tired,” Violetta said. “Will he get some sleep tonight?”

           “I promise,” Natalia said, telling her little girl that she loved her and slipping into the bed to hold Rafael through a sudden night tremor until he relaxed.

           “I’m here, Atticus,” she whispered.

           And she ran her fingers through his hair, her hand falling down his face to touch his bruises. She quaked at the thought of all that he had endured, and her eyes glided towards the silver cuff chaining him to the bed. What did she want more? The brutal bracelet was gone or simply to stay with him? Opting for the latter, she held him tighter and together they bolted upright when he woke and wildly glanced about the room.

           “Shhh,” Natalia soothed, rubbing his back and feeling the sweat seeping through his hospital gown. It took several seconds bordering on an eternity for his breath to return to the realm of normal, for him to stop thrashing in the sheets, and finally, he focused on her face.

           “Natalia?”

           His voice came out in a shriveled croak, and she cradled his chin in her hands, kissing between the bruises, winding her arms around his neck, and letting her lips draw close to his ear.

           “I’m here,” she said. “It’s alright. Everything is alright now.”

           Cuddling into her shoulder, Rafael’s body started to go limp. Somehow, he found the strength to attempt his own embrace. But compromised by the handcuff, his stare moved to his shackled wrist, and he released a heavy sigh.

           “Not when they send me back,” he muttered.

           “No,” she quickly said, turning his gaze back to hers and furiously shaking her head. “You’re never going back to that cell. It’s over, Atticus.”

           “Natalia, you can’t know that,” Rafael reasoned.

           “I can,” she said softly. “It… it was Cutter.”

           Blinking fast in disbelief, her husband started to talk several times, the words slow to come as his free hand finally moved to her cheek.

           “Cutter?” he echoed. “Are you sure?”

           “I am,” she told him.

           “But why… how…?”

           “He was in bed with Eve,” Natalia said. “In more ways than one. And I got the confession out of him.”

           Her lips curled into a prideful smile, and Rafael’s face melted in relief.

           “Truly, hermosa?” he asked. “You did that?”

           “I learned from the best,” she said. Quickly kissing his lips, Natalia guided him back to the pillows and caressed his face. “You’re here for the night. But tomorrow… Atticus, it is over. You’re coming home to me. To our sweet little girls.”

           Expecting his smile to brighten despite the dimly lit room, she watched his face cloud over as his bottom lip began to quiver.

           “Hermosa… I…”

           No more words came as he gave into his tears and broke down against her body. Natalia felt her eyes glaze over and tried to ease the tension from his back, kissing his temples and telling him that he was safe.

           They were only words. The same words that he had spoken to her forever and five odd years ago underneath a Christmas tree. How hard he had tried to drive the demons away; she would trace the same path now. He needed time. Time to weep and rage. Still, Natalia believed that the day would come when he would start to forget.

           Until that instant, longer if necessary…

           “You can cry all you want, Atticus,” she whispered. “I promise I won’t let you go.”

[percywinchester27]

Feelings

Pairing: Sam X Eileen

Word count: 1100-ish

Warning: Fluff… and ummm angst I guess?

Summary: Try as he might, Sam just couldn’t understand what that one feeling was…

A/N: This is written for @ilostmyshoe-79‘s Sweet emotions challenge. My prompt was: Longing. I hope y’all enjoy it :)

Feedback is really appreciated!

The first time that Sam saw her, he knew there was something different about her. Of all the staff at Old parks, she was the one who caught his eye. In hindsight, Sam should have known what it was that pulled him to her.

She was beautiful, but he was used to women being that. She was badass; he was used to that too. What he wasn’t used to was how unapologetic she was. She wasn’t scared admitting the things that scared her and Sam instantly loved that about her.

Sam hadn’t felt so at home with anyone in a long time. He felt like he could share his past, his emotions without feeling judged.

When she saved his brother, the one person who mattered most to him, he couldn’t find words to thank her, and when she nodded to let him know that she understood, he felt the weirdest sense of relief. Companionship. Maybe that was it.

She was really funny, Sam realized. When she said her good bye the next day, it was bittersweet. He tried to give her his number, but she turned it around on him saying he could try, but she wouldn’t pick up the call. He laughed with her, trying to dismiss the strange ache when the Impala drove away. Sam kept his eyes trained on the diminishing image of the girl in the green jacket till the image disappeared altogether.

It took him a couple of weeks before Sam gave in to his own restlessness and his brother’s relentless teasing and Emailed her. It felt good to type a couple of sentences asking her how she was and what she was up to. Sam felt better the moment he clicked send, but the relief lasted for all of 5 minutes before the panic set in. What if she didn’t answer? What if she didn’t wanna answer?

So was it desperation? He hoped not. Whatever the feeling was, it lasted for a couple of hours till she finally replied to his Email. Sam might have worn a hole in the floor of room in that while though.

It was a simple reply, maybe even simpler than his own generic questions, but it relieved Sam nevertheless, made it so much easier to breathe. It felt strange to be this nervous over talking to someone.

They made it a weekly thing after that. Whether he was on a hunt, or she was, they’d make it a point to Email each other.

One night, lying in a dusty motel room on a bed adjacent to his snoring brother’s, Sam couldn’t help but pick up the phone and make that video call. He wanted to see her again, he needed to see her again, because it had been too long. It was strange because he knew he was safe, he knew he was in no immediate danger, but yet Sam could feel that rush of adrenalin in his blood in the few minutes before she picked up the call.

And when she did pick up the phone, the bright happiness and wonder in her eyes gave way to this new emotion. Excitement.

Sam lost track of time that night as spoke in a hushed voice, but she picked up every word perfectly, telling him her own stories in reply to his own. There was something pure about the silent laughs they shared, even as his bed creaked under his body with every move.

Sam didn’t mind being woken up too early by Dean the next day morning, and even though it made his brother wonder, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. The urge to see her face once more was too strong in that moment. He was craving it.

When she walked into bunker that day, Sam could swear his heart stopped for a second. He was staring and it was probably obviously, but he couldn’t look away from her rosy cheeks or the beautiful smile. Just like the other time, he tripped over his own words trying to tell her how badass she was. Dean could do it just fine, so why couldn’t he? Sam wanted to kick himself for that.

When they set out, it seemed like a win-win situation, but when they got back, it all seemed like a lost cause. Eileen had been quite all the way back towards the bunker, and when she finally turned to him, her eyes begging for him to understand that killing Renny was an honest mistake, he couldn’t help but pull her into his arms. It pained him to see her in so much pain.

Sam checked on her that night, long after she had retired to bed. She seemed so small in her sleep, somehow so helpless that Sam felt himself gravitate towards her, itching to pull back the covers and slip in beside her, yearning to pull her in his arms and never let go of her. But today was not the day, so he closed the door quietly and slipped back in his own room.

He couldn’t get much sleep that night, which worked well with his plan to find a solution to finding Dagon. When the illustrations in the books turned to stuff of his dreams Sam had no idea, but the warm hands pressing against his shoulders and rousing him gently from his nap in bunker library didn’t feel alien at all. They felt like home.

She was going back to Ireland for a while, she told him, and it felt like a punch in the gut to Sam. She gave him a tight hug and he could make out a whispered thank you, but he didn’t want to let her go. When she broke apart, Sam wanted to hold her hand and yank her right back into his chest. He made her promise that she’d ask for help if she needed it, that she’d come back soon. What he couldn’t convey was that he needed her. She had agreed to little request, smiling a small but genuine smile, before walking away from him.

Sam memorized it, committed the way her lips curved upwards to his mind. As the bunker door clanged behind her, for the first time Sam understood what that raw feeling was. The companionship, the desperation, the excitement, the wonder and the pain. It was none of those, but also all of them at the same time. What Sam truly felt deep in his heart, in the pit of his stomach was longing, so acutely intense that it drowned out every other feeling in that moment. The longing to hold, the longing to be held and the longing to be loved.

Sam swore it to himself then and there, that the next time he saw her, he wasn’t going to just stand there looking at her. She had to know how he felt. As bittersweet as this longing was, Sam knew he’d be damned if he didn’t act upon it. And act upon it he would.

I had no clue whom to tag so I’m taking a random shot at a couple folks here apart from those who asked:

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deanssweetheart23 @deaths-damn-fruit-basket @grace-for-sale @feelmyroarrrr @mrswhozeewhatsis @ilostmyshoe-79 @growningupgeek

[rosatyan]

From Management Consultant to Entrepreneur

Jennifer Chong from Linjer: From $0 to $10m in 3 years

https://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/us_59d195f9e4b0f58902e5cd93

Jennifer Chong, Co-Founder of Linjer

I was fortunate to sit down with Jennifer Chong, the 29-year-old founder of Linjer, a contemporary brand whose minimalist leather bags and watches have gained a cult following among style aficionados. In its third year since Jennifer created the brand out of her living room, Linjer is on track for more than $10 million in annual sales. The following are a few of my questions and answers with Jennifer.

What inspired you to start Linjer?

It all started when my partner and co-founder, Roman Khan, needed a leather briefcase for work. He wanted a bag that was well-designed, high-quality, reasonably priced—and that didn’t have a flashy logo on it. But he just couldn’t find this bag. He felt stuck choosing between fast fashion brands and overpriced luxury brands.

We knew that luxury brands marked up their leather bags by ludicrous amounts, often 10 to 20 times the cost of production. We got the idea to make bags of similar or higher quality, and to sell our products at a more reasonable price.

Did you have any previous experience in fashion or design before launching Linjer?

I have no formal training, but I’ve always loved making things, whether it was building intricate Lego houses when I was young, making wooden furniture, or even, more recently, making leather goods by hand. Formal training becomes less important if you have a strong vision and are willing to learn. A lot of the skills that I use as a designer today I’ve just picked up along the way. There’s a surprising amount you can learn by just searching on Google, and, of course, through making mistakes.

You were previously a management consultant. Did that job prepare you at all for starting Linjer?

Definitely. When I was a management consultant, I spent a lot of my days doing analysis in spreadsheets, gathering information through interviews, and tinkering in Powerpoint slides. All of these skills translate quite directly into running Linjer. Every day I’m working through the numbers for the business, learning from conversations with customers and vendors, and thinking about how best to convey the spirit of Linjer into everything we do.

How did you get the funds to launch the first collection (leather bags for men?)

Roman and I spent $20,000 of our savings getting everything ready for launch. That went towards developing our brand identity, making prototypes, and doing photo and video shoots. The actual production of our first collection (with the Soft Briefcase at the center) was going to cost $50,000 given that all of our suppliers had minimum order requirements.

We didn’t have $50,000 to bet on the bags selling, so we ran a crowdfunding campaign on Indiegogo to see if people were interested in what we were doing. The tagline was “Fine leather goods without the luxury markup.” It went incredibly well – we ended up getting $144,000 in pre-orders in about 40 days and were able to kick off production; however, we still had not raised enough money from investors not to need supplemental income. For the first two years, Roman and I took turns working full-time jobs so someone was paying the rent. It was only in late 2015 that we both went full time with our own business.

I only discovered Linjer after your huge Kickstarter campaign last year, where you got $1 million in pre-orders for your watches. Why did you decide to make watches?

Again, it was a personal need. We both used to pull out our phones to check the time. It really stressed us out because we’d always see a barrage of emails, messages, and notifications on the screen. We wanted to make watches that would help us live more simply and more thoughtfully, and we thought that watches would be a natural extension of what we were doing with our bag business. We saw an opportunity to make minimalist, high-quality timepieces that we’d be proud to wear and that wouldn’t cost an obnoxious amount of money.

Linjer uses the same supply chain as luxury brands, but you sell your products for a fraction of the price of traditional luxury brands. How are you able to sell at such accessible price points?

We sell only on our website (www.linjer.co), which allows us to shave off middleman costs that traditionally inflate the price of luxury products. It’s also a matter of just choosing not to mark up our products like crazy.

You’ve gotten rave reviews from editors, customers, and influencers, and you’re constantly sold out of your leather bags. What do you think has been the secret to Linjer’s success?

We have an excellent product – and I think our customers understand what incredible value they’re getting when they put on one of our bags/watches for the first time. We are extremely selective with what materials we use (for instance, we only use full grain vegetable-tanned leather and sapphire glass on our watches), and with what suppliers we work with. We’re always pushing to elevate the standard of product quality and design.

Minimalist design is trending right now, but it often comes out looking generic. 

How do you keep Linjer’s designs so interesting?

When you’re designing something minimalist, every single detail counts that much more. We’re quite militant about getting these details right – for instance, we were very fussy about getting the taper on the second hand of the watch just right. We’re not afraid of iterating 50 times on a design to get it perfect. We also like to play with colors and materials, like in our Tulip Bag. That also keeps things fresh!

What part does customer feedback play in your design decisions?

When it comes to design, we don’t take advice from other people. Roman and I set our own rules. We can’t push the boundaries if we just do what people expect of us. Our watches don’t have a logo on the face. This was a bold decision – what high-end watches can you think of without a logo on the face? The owner of our watch factory was apprehensive. He told us we were out of our minds. In his thirty years in the industry, none of his clients had ever made a watch without a logo on the dial. Now we’re his fastest-growing client.

This doesn’t mean that we don’t care about the actual experience of using our products. We place a strong emphasis on functionality and strive to make each product a delight to use. After all, we use our products ourselves.

What has been your company’s biggest challenge?

Keeping up with demand. We were on track to reach $5 million in sales last year, but our production couldn’t keep up and it caught us totally off-guard. The production capacity of factories is quite inelastic, so we’ve had to start new partnerships to ensure that we’re ready for 2018.

As I understand, Linjer is still self-funded. Do you plan to seek outside investment?

It’s not in the cards right now. We don’t need it and I think we’re better off with it. We want to be accountable first and foremost to our customers rather than to investors.

What excites you most working in today’s fashion-tech space?

There are so many direct-to-consumer brands cropping up nowadays. Generally, they seek to offer a fairer price and/or a better product than incumbents. I’m personally very excited to watch how these direct-to-consumer brands are changing the relationship between brands and customers. We’re teaching consumers to expect more thoughtfulness, care, and transparency from the brands they buy from. I think this is a very good thing.

What’s next for Linjer?

We’re setting up an office in Hong Kong and are looking to hire for a number of positions! You can see our Careers page for more information. We’re excited to get our new Tulip and Mini in stock in October; almost 3,000 people have pre-ordered them and have been waiting for months to receive them. We also have a new bag and watch collection in the pipeline and we are exploring other niches. Finally, we are preparing for our first pop-up, and we’re praying that our products don’t go out of stock again this holiday season! But I guess that’s a good problem to have.

[catsareliquidgame]

Cats are Liquid - 2 Years Later [Part 3 - Release]

Read part 1 here.

Release

On December 7th, 2015, after six months of development, the game was published on the Google Play Store and itch.io. The game immediately received unprecedented critical acclaim, with millions of downloads coming in every single second.

Or not.

That day, the game was downloaded 21 times on the Google Play Store. On itch.io there was a single purchase.

It was actually a lot better than what I expected.

I had, of course, contacted multiple video game reviewers, YouTubers, etc., but only a few were interested. Eventually, even the ones that were originally interested dropped it. (A couple YouTubers have made videos of the game, but that was way after the release.)

It honestly didn’t bother me that much. I still thought of the game as a small little weird platformer. I wasn’t surprised that people didn’t care about it.

I was already thinking about my next project.

1288

One cold winter morning, about a month after the release of the game, I logged in to the Google Play Store dashboard. And guess what I saw?

1288 cumulative installs on active devices.

What?

How?

Why?

I honestly couldn’t believe my eyes. Over a thousand? I was happy with the 130 I had somehow managed to gather up at that point.

I jumped to the user feedback page and saw a ton of reviews. Most of them were written in Russian. Since I don’t speak Russian, I had to rely on the built-in Google Translate functionality in the review system. A lot of the reviews (both negative and positive) mentioned something about flies and how the game was one of them. Needless to say, I had no idea what it meant. And I still don’t.

I tried looking around for a reason for the sudden download spike. I spent hours searching for a mention or even just a link to the game. I couldn't find anything. To this day, I have no idea what caused the download spike.

But people seemed to like it. So that was nice.

“It’ll only take a couple of days”

A couple of months after the game received the huge download spike; I started work on the Companion level pack. While I was working on it, one of my friends suggested that I'd put it on Steam Greenlight. My friend was absolutely 100% confident it would get greenlit within just a couple days. I was a bit more skeptical.

“Why not? There's nothing to lose!”

My friend was right. Well, except for the semi-hefty submission price. But my friend was very adamant about it, so I put it on Greenlight.

And it got stuck. In fact, it got so stuck that it was even featured in a series called “Stuck in Greenlight Limbo.” You can check out the article here.

More than a couple of days later

Then, on a random day of no significance whatsoever, I got a notification on my phone while I was in a car. (As a passenger, of course)

Congratulations! Ca-

“Stupid spam emails.”

*Swipes the notification away*

More than a couple of days later (+2)

Then, two days after said day of no significance whatsoever, I logged in to Steam, went over to the Greenlight page and was greeted by a big bright neon green banner on the top of the page.

I was shocked.

After recovering from said shock, I quickly thanked everyone who voted and then started figuring out the legal stuff.

There was a lot of legal stuff.

Honest to god, I thought the email I received in the car was a spam email and just swiped it away. I realized what the email actually was while working on the Steam achievements. I felt like an idiot. Probably because I was.

While on Greenlight, the game got 845 total votes, with 390 (46%) people voting yes, and 455 (54%) voting no.

Press this button to crash the game

The version of the game that was published on Steam was 1.2, and it had a pretty big addition to it. A settings screen.

*cue royalty free gasp sound effect*

But this caused some unexpected issues in the Mac build.

Here’s some background info: all of my testing for the Mac version of the game was done on a late 2009 MacBook Pro, with an older version of OSX. I remember there being an update available for it, but I never got around to installing it. I wish I had.

One of the very first posts to the Cats are Liquid Steam forums after the release was this:

A crash on a Mac, and restarting the game didn’t fix it. Instead, it just crashed on startup. The entire game was unplayable.

"Fuck."

Long story short, there was a bug in Unity that only occurred when trying to switch to fullscreen in the newer OSX version.

It worked just as intended on Windows, Linux, and the older OSX version I was testing on, but on the version most Mac users were using it caused a catastrophic crash.

Suffice it to say, that was all my fault (again) for not testing on the latest version. But hey, at least I won’t make that mistake next time.

Overall, apart from the fullscreen crash on Mac, I think the launch on Steam went quite smoothly.

“Now playable on Mars and its moons.”

There was also something I added to the changelogs of the game between the 1.2.1 and 1.2.6 patches. I “hid” small weird random phrases in them to see if people actually read the changelogs.

To my surprise, there was usually a comment within 15 to 30 minutes of the changelog going out when someone pointed out the weird phrase. So I guess at least some people do read them.

Part 4 (where I talk about all the things I’d want to change, and some other stuff) is coming soon...

[justyouraveragesleepwaker]

Am I dreaming?

Hey, I’m new to Tumblr but I really like to write and I have a friend who’s been on my back recently to start writing and uploading fan-fiction so here we are. I thought I would start off with a short Jungkook x reader fluffy story because Jungkook is my ultimate bias so I feel pretty comfortable writing about him. I’m very new to this and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing so any and all feedback is appreciated. In case any of you aren’t familiar with x reader stories, Y/N means “your name” so that you can read the story as though it is happening to you, and for the purposes of this story, I will be using Y/R/N to signify “your roommate’s name” (just pretend you have a roommate and give her a random name that isn’t your own). My ask box is open if you have any requests and without further ado, please enjoy my first attempt at a fanfic…

It was still dark when I opened my eyes. I rolled over to look at the clock with a groan and had to blink a few times to get the sleepy fog out of my vision. Eventually, the numbers 3:28 came into focus in bright red in the surrounding black. Why had I woken up so early? I closed my eyes to try and drift back into my dreams, but it was no use. I was awake now, and I was going to stay that way for a while. Resigned, I rolled back over and out of bed to get something to drink.

As I padded down the hall I noticed the lights on and voices coming from the kitchen. It must be my roommate, that’s probably why I woke up. The sounds weren’t loud, but I could make out two distinct voices, as well as what I supposed was microwaveable popcorn popping. One voice belonged to Y/R/N, and the other was distinctly male. I sighed as I crossed the doorway into the kitchen. “Y/R/N I asked you to stop bringing guys home at ridiculous hours in the night. Go to their place or at least have the decency to be quiet…” I trailed off as I raised my eyes and my gaze caught the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.

He had light brown hair, pushed back out of his face and kind of flopping to the side. He was tall, clearly built, and had gorgeous brown eyes that stared right back at me as though they could see right through my very being “…sorry… Hello…” I stammered, quickly looking away. “Y/N!” I looked back up at my roommate. “I was just about to wake you up. Jung-” Y/R/N was cut off by the handsome boy. “Hi,” he said, and my gaze flicked back to him. He was smiling and it somehow made him impossibly sexy and adorable all at once. He took a step forward, “Y/N you look so different!”

I furrowed my brow a bit. “Sorry, do I know you?” “Yeah!” he said, taking a few more steps forward, “It’s me, Jungkook! Don’t you remember? From dance class.” He stopped moving forward when he saw the confusion on my face. His English sounded strange, he had an accent that reminded me of a kid I used to know… No way! It all came flooding back. The memories of two young kids brought together by fate. One, a twelve-year-old girl forced to join a dance class by her parents who wanted to get her out of the house and away from her ‘silly books’. The other, a thirteen-year-old boy come to America from Korea who wanted to learn to dance so he could be a pop-star and could barely speak any English.

We had been best friends for the two years he stayed in LA. I had always had a little bit of a crush on him when we teenagers, but that was more based on the bond we had, and on his surprisingly uncanny ability to always make me smile. I knew he was kind, and fun, and cute, but I never would have imagined he would look like this, so handsome, so… mature. He smiled again when he saw the recognition dawn on my face. “Do you remember now?” 

“Yeah,” I breathed out, “but… how…?” Was I dreaming? I’d often thought about what it would be like for Jungkook to come back. He had been my only friend at the time he was here, and it hit me hard when he left. We had exchanged emails, tried to keep in contact, but we stopped trying after only a year of being apart. I used to dream of him coming back and laughing at me sitting alone in the cafeteria. I would imagine him punching my shoulder and teasing me for still not having any friends. Jungkook was the knight in shining armor who haunted my sleep, but he’d never shown up so eventually, I learned how to put on my own armor.

He took another step forward, but his smile faded at the look of shock I still wore. I suppose he was looking for a bit of a happier reaction. He was right in front of me now. “C-can… umm… is it okay if I hug you?” He coughed, smiling nervously. “Yeah, yeah it’s okay.” I took a step forward and threw my arms around his neck. “Oh my god I can’t believe your here!” I nearly screamed at him, the force of my hug causing him to take a step backward. He laughed and hugged me back, clearly relieved I’d snapped out of whatever trance I’d been in before. “It’s good to see you,” he said, his breath tickling my ear.

I took a step back, smiling, to take another look at him. He really did look different, his hair had been dyed, and he’d definitely paid a few visits to the gym, but underneath it all, I could just make out the raven-haired boy with the bunny smile that I used to know. Realizing my hands were still on his shoulders, I released him and looked away with a blush. “You too! How have you been?” I said. “Before things get too serious I’ll be off to bed, but you two have fun catching up. Enjoy the popcorn!” Y/R/N said with a smile as she made her way toward the hall.

Jungkook jumped up a little as he remembered the popcorn and went to get it from the microwave. Y/R/N stopped right beside me and grabbed my arm on her way out, pulling me close as she whispered in my ear, “I can see the way you’re looking at him, and I totally approve but don’t be too loud okay? I have to get up at 8:00.” I shoved her out of the kitchen, whisper-yelling, “It’s not like that!” and she backed out with a smirk.

“What was that?” Jungkook said, looking over at you curiously with the bag of popcorn is his hand. “Nothing,” I said, a little too quickly. He didn’t seem convinced but shrugged and dropped it. “Do you have a bowl for…?” He asked, gesturing at the popcorn. “Oh yeah,” I said, “here.” I took the popcorn from him and poured it into a large bowl from the cupboard. He grabbed a handful and stuffed it in his mouth before I could even set the bowl down on the table. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as I thought.

“I’ve been working on my English,” he said through mouthfuls of popcorn, “because I knew I was coming here. It’s better right?” “Yeah,” I answered, “but how…why…what are you doing here?” This time, thankfully, he swallowed before speaking. “We’re doing an arena tour in America,” he said, “Remember I told you I was an idol? I’m like a big deal now.” I laughed, glad that he hadn’t grown out of his cocky attitude. It was annoying, but somehow always made me smile because I knew deep down how insecure he was and how hard he was trying to be confident. I was happy he hadn’t given up, and he must be at least somewhat successful to be a Korean group touring in America.

“That’s amazing!” I said, and he beamed at me. I took a handful of popcorn, my first despite the fact that half the bowl was already gone. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here, in my crappy college student apartment, being let in by my roommate at 3:30 in the morning no less. We haven’t exactly been in touch.” I said. “Yeah,” he laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, “it’s a bit of a long story.” “Well, I’m not about to go back to bed anytime soon.”

More laughter. He swallowed te last of the popcorn, then started speaking again, “Well when I heard we were going to America, I thought of you so I decided to email you, but I guess you changed it since it said that that email was no longer in use. I don’t blame you though I mean, I always liked Y/Nthebookwormdancer123@email.com, but I figure most other adults wouldn’t feel the same way.” I laughed, “Yeah it wasn’t really something I wanted to put on my college applications.” He smiled and continued, “So I looked you up on facebook but I couldn’t message you because your account has all these privacy settings. You had a post I could see though about your new apartment so I contacted your landlord to ask for your email. I think he gave me Y/R/N’s email by mistake so I asked her for yours, but she said it’d be more fun to make it a surprise. My flight only got in around 1:30 AM and Y/R/N was nice enough to pick me up at the airport since our schedule’s gonna be pretty packed and I wasn’t sure when I’d get time to see you.” He took a deep breath, “And that’s pretty much it, now we’re here.”

“Oh my god you just landed!” I said, “You must be exhausted!” “Not really, the jetlag between LA ad Korea is intense.” He laughed. We kept talking for what felt like seconds but was probably hours. Despite how physically changed he was, he really hadn’t changed a bit. Talking to him was just as easy as it had been before, but his voice was slightly deeper and I found myself occasionally inadvertently staring at his lips and the little bit of his toned chest that peeked out of his v-neck.

Suddenly his phone rang, and he quickly picked it up. Realizing there was sunlight coming in through the kitchen window, I checked my own phone to see what time it was. I gasped, it was already 7:30! I had to be at work in an hour. Jungkook hung up and looked at me apologetically. “That was my manager, he’s here to pick me up, I have to go,” he said. I smiled, “No worries I have to get ready for work anyway.” Jungkook looked a little disappointed. “Oh, okay…”

“Jungkook?” I said, “What’s wrong?” “N-nothing, it was nothing I mean I just…” he coughed, sighed, then seemed to nod to himself as though deciding something, “I might have some more free time later and I was wondering if you wanted to like grab a coffee or something, I mean it’s fine if you have work or whatever I just-” “I finish my shift at noon.” I cut him off. “Here give me your phone.” He handed me his phone unlocked and I opened up the contacts to add in my number. I sent myself a quick text from his phone so I would have his number as well, then handed it back to him. “Text me okay? I love coffee.” I smiled at him and he returned the gesture. “I will,” he said, standing up.

I walked him to the door, a small part of me hoping he would never leave. He turned in the doorway just before stepping out, “Hey, Y/N…” “Yeah?” “You, umm… you really do look good. I mean that is, umm… You’ve grown up, well we’ve both grown up obviously, I just wanted to say that you… Well you look really pretty.” he finished lamely, but it set my cheeks on fire. I coughed awkwardly “Thanks,” I said smiling, “you look really good too.” He smiled and walked out the door and down the staircase just outside it. I closed the door and leaned my back against, letting out a long sigh as I slid to the ground. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my lips, and it only grew when my phone buzzed and I turned it over to see I got a text from Jungkook.

Kookie <3: Can’t wait to see you again! Let’s not leave 5 years between when we see each other next this time okay? ;)

Y/R/N just rolled her eyes as she walked in to find me sitting on the floor, smiling stupidly at my phone.

- Raven

*Author’s Note: This ended up being way longer than I thought it would be, but I hope you enjoy <3

[firefly-in-darkness]

Christmas in New York - Part One

Characters: Thor & Y/N, Loki

Summary: Y/N is clouded by her love for her boss, Brock Rumlow, but is that about to change?

Prompt:  The Holiday

Word Count: 3k

Beta: @princessmisery666​​ - thank you lovely! (All mistakes are my own though).

A/N: This is a part of @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​​ challenge - I don’t know how this turned into a mini series but here we are... Hope you enjoy! Feedback is golden, tags are open!

Christmas in New York Series List

Previously...

Y/N’s thumb hovered over the email for a second then opened it; she was greeted to a beautiful view of woodlands and a lake, the images moved to show a log cabin that needed a little love then back to more breathtaking views. She scanned the email, making sure to read the small print, then clicked to enter.

What an escape that would be…

Two Months Later…

Y/N slumped against her couch, her neatly pressed attire now creased and crumpled, as she sunk lower into the cushions, after a long day . Twenty applications, three interviews and one rejection later, she had sent herself into a spiral of self-deprecation and worry. 

On occasion, the thought of approaching Brock flickered across her mind but she immediately straightened herself out. With a heavy sigh, Y/N lifted her phone to check for any email updates on her recent applications. Nothing. 

She dropped her phone beside her, rolled her eyes and let her head fall back to the cushions. Why did I quit before finding another job?! You idiot, she chastised herself before she pushed away from the cushions and stood up with a stretch of her limbs.

Ping, ping!

Y/N grabbed her phone and headed towards the kitchen when an excitable scream ripped through the apartment as she read the notification.

Win a Holiday: Congratulations Y/N! New York Awaits!

She spun around, did a little wiggle of her hips and shoulders and then fist pumped the air. Finally some good news. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she thought of all the possibilities of where this could take her. A couple of jumps up and down later, she sat at the kitchen island and began to read through the email thoroughly, again and again to make sure it wasn’t a hoax.

Y/N immediately text Wanda to meet for dinner at the weekend.

The lights strung around the posts twinkled against the darkened sky, the smell of spices wafted through the cool air and the hushed chatter accompanied by soft melodies brought the small tapas bar to life. Y/N and Wanda sat in the courtyard, they nibbled at their plates of food and sipped wine in between their conversation.

Wanda’s red locks glowed against the fairy lights and a devilish smirk appeared, she placed her glass down and gripped onto your arm, “So what’s this exciting news you’ve got for me? Another interview? A new job? Did you have sex? You’ve met someone?” 

Y/N shook her head, her grin grew with each guess as Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed in failure and thoughts flickered across her eyes. The last two months hadn’t been easy, Wanda had been Y/N’s shoulder to cry on when interviews resulted in rejections, applications went unanswered and her unemployment continued. Wanda had been the one to talk Y/N out of calling Brock and asking for her job back. It was nice to see Wanda excited that she finally had some good news to share. 

She leant forward to whisper, “Are you pregnant?!”

With wide eyes, Y/N choked on her bite, “No! God, no!”

Y/N passed her phone and showed her the congratulatory email detailing the prize she had won,  a Trip to New York. She watched Wanda read, her brow twitched and then her lips bloomed into a smile.

“This is amazing! Where will you be staying?”

Y/N scrolled to the bottom of the email and tapped the screen, “In a cabin, in the countryside.”

“A cabin!”

The other patrons all turned to stare at the outburst from Wanda, they both apologised and carried on with their meal and discussion. Y/N had decided long before meeting with Wanda that she would be going, regardless of where she was going to be staying. 

New York was an incredible distance away from LA but it gave her the opportunity to escape and possibly find other jobs in a different place. Y/N would be out of the reach of Brock, the failure of her job hunting and be able to move on with her life. If she wanted too, and that was good enough for her to be ready to leave.

“For how long?”

“A month, the place is fully stocked with food for at least two weeks. I’ve already handed in my notice on the apartment, a new tenant has already snapped it up.”

“What if you don’t come back…Will I see you again?” Wanda’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pulled Y/N into a hug.

“Of course! How dare you think our lunch dates are over just because we are a few hours apart. Regardless of the way things are going, I fully expect you to come and visit me after Christmas if I find a job. And that’s only a month away.”

The farewell gift from Wanda was perfect; a matching set of gloves and scarf. The change in weather was to be expected but Y/N didn’t expect how drastic. Her breath misted and swirled into the sky as she lugged her suitcase up the wooden staircase and onto the porch of the cabin. Hat, fluffy socks… She made a mental note and thought of how she doubted she would ever get used to the nearly freezing temperatures, especially at nine in the morning.

Y/N finally took in her surroundings; the cabin was surrounded by woodland, the trees were almost bare, apart from the spruces, covered in a slight frost. And they must be near a lake from what Y/N could see from the coach ride to the small town and the boat shed peeking from the back corner of the cabin.

Silence. The weight of LA drifted off of Y/N’s shoulders and into the New York countryside. 

The tiredness she’d felt from the flight and the days of packing and organizing leading up to her departure dissipated and excitement filled her bones. She spun around and opened the front door, dragged her suitcase behind her and was welcomed to a quaint living room of leather and fur, a large fireplace with a few logs stacked beside. The stone of the chimney loomed upwards, a prominent and majestic feature, flanked by windows out into the wild.

The wood panels echoed with warmth and guided Y/N’s line of sight to the stairs leading up to an open planned bedroom. Her stomach grumbled and she sought the kitchen. It was bigger than she had expected, with a space for dining and a reading nook by the window, opposite the french doors onto a decked area. Y/N’s stomach grumbled again, she opened the cupboards to find tins of soup and bread. Perfect, she smiled to herself.

With her hunger sated, Y/N grabbed her suitcase, ready to unpack and explore the upper floor of the cabin. The stairs creaked faintly under her foot as she ascended, and when she reached the top a gasp escaped her lips. The large bed was dressed with cushions stacked against the pillows, a blanket draped across one of the corners but what had made her gasp was the view that her bed faced. Floor to ceiling windows within an iron grid showed the wild beauty of the forest. Y/N was enraptured of the neverending view of the bare and snowy trees, the birds that scattered the skyline and the warm glow of the sun as it hung low above the lake in the distance.

With the sky clear, not a cloud insight, Y/N freshened up in the en-suite bathroom that was connected through a door beside the bed. She immediately felt the warmth on the soles of her feet from the tiles. Underfloor heating?!, Y/N all but squealed in excitement. The waterfall style shower was too perfect, and when she wrapped the fluffy white towel around her body, it was like heaven.

Y/N scrambled into her clothes; jeans, a t-shirt and hoodie then pushed her feet into the knee high boots. With a roll of her shoulders, she grabbed her jacket, scarf and gloves as she headed out the door for a three mile walk to the lake. She glanced at her watch, Two pm, a few hours before sundown. 

Forty-five minutes, the tourist guide for Pinnacle Trail in a kitchen drawer had said. An hour and a half later and she still hadn’t reached the lake. As the sun began to set, the trees started to turn from a snowy fairytale to something of a nightmare as the branches weaved into the sky and blocked some of the light.

Everything is fine, Y/N repeated to herself as she glanced around the forest, the trees seemed to close in on her and the sky darkened with clouds and the nearly faded sun. Panic slowly seeped into her as snow flurried around her, her breath formed in the air as she panted and scurried between the trees to get back to the cabin.

Y/N saw a small dark shadow to her left, fear grew and she dived behind a tree. She peered round to see the shadow in the form of a wolf. Y/N clamped her hand over her mouth and watched, eyes wide, as the shadow grew and bounded through the trees towards her. Y/N held her breath as the shadow reached the final tree line before the small amount of light showed a dog.

She exhaled in relief and the dog’s ears pricked up at the sound. Their eyes locked and they slowly edged towards one another. The dog’s nose twitched and sniffed out towards Y/N, who extended her hand in return. She remained still as allowing the dog to sniff her  fingertips, her patience was rewarded with a with a tentative lick of her palm, the dog’s tail wagged in response and his brown eyes sparkled.. A laugh burst out of her as she stroked the dog’s back and scratched his ears.

“Loki!” Thor’s voice echoed through the trees. “Loki, come here boy!”

The small amount of settled snow crunched under his boots, his eyes strained in the darkening sky and the flurries that surrounded him. After a few more calls, Thor spotted Loki trotting alongside a woman, a beautiful woman. Thor’s smile grew as his dog bounded towards him and lifted back onto his hind legs in excitement, his tongue hung outside his mouth as he leapt around him.

Thor encircled his large arms around the dog’s neck, “Loki, you’ve got to stop running off and-” He spotted the woman that stood awkwardly in the tree line, “Thank you so much. He didn’t hurt you? He’s friendly but a little mischievous, doesn’t know his own strength.”

He looked expectantly at Y/N who seemed distracted by his presence, he flashed her a small smile and nod before he outstretched his hand.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting, well um-yeah, no that’s okay,” Y/N stammered her way through the sentence and reached her hand out to his, “I’m Y/N, and no, he gave me a little fright but he was a good companion.”

Thor chuckled and then noticed her attire; light jacket and suede boots, “You’re not from around here are you?”

Y/N giggled in response, “No, I’m not, what gave it away? The poor choice in shoes?” she lifted her boots that were soaked through from the snow, “or that I am completely lost?”

“Well yes, but I was going to say that you’re posture is very rigid like most city dwellers.” Thor berated himself internally as soon as his words came out. He watched her eyes widened at his comment and the immediate shift in her demeanor. If she wasn’t rigid before, she is now.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Thor raised his eyebrow at her, in the hope that she saw that it was with sincerity rather than mocking.

“I’m staying at a cabin near the Huddle Brook river, just before the Bolton conservation area?”

Thor nodded and gave her a half smile, “May I ask, where were you trying to go in the dark?”

“I was going to walk the Pinnacle Trail and then to the lake. I think I took a wrong turn, but then I met this guy.” Y/N patted Loki’s head.

“You’re way off! Let me take you back, I know where you’re staying.” Thor gestured towards the path.

Thor noticed the way Y/N’s breath hitched at his words and he realised that he must have sounded like a stalker but then she beamed at him and he never wanted her to look any other way.

“Thank you, I’d really appreciate that.”

Loki weaved between them as they strolled down the path. Thor glanced down to Y/N and watched her thoughts scatter across her face. He stifled a laugh and as she was about to speak Thor opened the door to a red pick up truck. Loki jumped into the cab, and then Thor held out his gloved hand for Y/N to help her climb into the seat. 

Y/N glanced up at him, her eyes were framed in sparkles as the snow melted on her lashes. Thor wanted to move closer, to kiss those lips that smiled at him. He withdrew his hand quickly but immediately regretted it as she flinched away from the sudden movement.

Idiot, now you’ve gone and scared her, Thor scolded himself and jogged to the other side of the truck.

Y/N was able to get a better view of her saviour now that he was beside her and his concentration on the road. If she hadn’t been paying attention to the man driving, she would have noticed the sky swiftly fade to darkness and the sparkle of stars but she studied the man’s face. She was captivated by the lines that framed his eyes as he smiled when his dog nuzzled against his arm and how his beard was neat yet gave him a rugged look.

“Oh my, I don’t even know your name!” She gasped, the dog now alert from the sound.

A hearty laugh burst through the silence, “I’m Thor, nice to meet you Y/N.”

“What like the viking God?” The words tumbled from her lips without a thought.

Thor’s face dropped and Y/N noticed his jaw tense and his brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry that was rude of me,” Y/N focused on the hem of her jacket and fiddled with a loose thread.

A loud noise echoed through the cab and she looked up at the man in shock, he slapped the steering wheel once more before he chuckled, “You’re not the first to ask me that. My mum was very interested in Norse mythology. Hence, Loki here too.”

Thor patted the head of the dog in the middle seat, Y/N followed his hand as he stroked the dog. His large hands that were so gentle against the animal. Imagine what those hands could do to you… Her thoughts sent a rush of blood to her cheeks, she bit her lip as she redirected her thoughts to the trees that passed as they drove along the winding road.

“Here we are,” Thor announced as he turned down the drive to the cabin.

A click of the buckle and Y/N scrambled out of the cab with a jump from the seat to the ground. Loki followed and sprinted up the porch, he sat and waited by the door with his head cocked.

“Sorry buddy, you have to go back to-” Y/N turned around to point to Thor’s truck when she collided with his chest.

Thor gripped her arms and steadied her balance, their eyes locked onto one another. Loki barked and Thor dropped his hands. She already missed the warmth of them but took a step back.

“Thank you for driving me home.” Y/N tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and scuffed her boot on the porch.

“Not a problem. And now you know to get some decent footwear and maybe a map?”

A blush crept up her face and she glanced up to see Thor’s wide smile. I’d love to stroke that face, that beard would feel good against… Y/N coughed and turned to Loki and stroked his head, “Goodnight boy, and you, Thor.”

Thor nodded, and with a wave, he descended the porch steps, “See you around, Y/N.”

The cold air hit Y/N, her body shivered from her feet in the snow-drenched boots to the tip of her icy nose. She flicked on the lights, pulled off her gloves and sprinted towards the stone chimney. She looked at the logs, the matches and then the fireplace.

What do I do?! She realised that she had never lit a fire in her entire life.

Y/N ran back to the front door and onto the porch to see Thor hadn’t left yet, relief washed over her as he stepped out of the truck, concern etched on his face.

“Thor, wait! I don’t know how to get the fire started, can you-”

“Of course.” He grinned and ushered Loki to follow.

Thor and Loki entered the cabin, the dog immediately bounded in and onto the armchair. He curled up and rested his head on the arm. Y/N chuckled and handed over the firestarters to Thor as they walked around the couch.

“You should take your clothes off.” Thor commented as he placed logs and some paper into the fireplace. At Y/N’s lack of response, he turned to find her wide eyed. “You’re soaked, you need to change if you ever want to get warm.”

“Oh right, yes that makes sense.” She ascended the staircase behind them, you idiot, of course he didn’t mean for him.

Y/N returned to the living room in a set of pajamas and as she approached a warmth bloomed across her skin from the flames, and in her chest as joined Thor and Loki on the rug at the hearth.

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