#(and yes I know it’s like 10am I just had a shit class and I’m coping lmfao)

[l3viat8an]

Need milf!Lucifer to suffocate me with her tits :((

[theheathenousfish]

A continuation of professor andreil. I will not apologize.

It’s the weekend. Casey and 3 of his classmates are at a restaurant celebrating the end of midterms ( which they did pretty well on, if they do say so themselves)

They were looking at the menus when Owen noticed their professor walk through the door with a red haired woman on his arm

“Hey, is that professor minyard?” Owen asked the table “and is that his wife? Didn’t he kiss professor Josten like, last month?”

Casey swirled around to look at the couple, who were walking towards the table the dean and his wife are sitting at.

“ about damn time you bring her. Jesus kid you’ve been married 10 years” the dean, wymack, grumbles.

“Oh my god!” AJ gasps “he wasn’t lying when he said prof josten wasn’t his boyfriend ! He’s the side piece!”

A few minutes later professors day, Boyd-wilds , walker-Reynolds, and Josten walk in and to the table.

“ hey Matt, how are the kids?” Prof josten asks

“ Neil! My man! Teenagers are so hard. Cody and Marlo have discovered my college photos and are giving me shit for how my hair looked”

Just then, a second minyard enters and sits down? It’s Avery’s turn to say something “I’m sorry, what? He has a twin?” Therefore she does.

Professor day scowls and says “ Neil your monster is here.”

“Drew! I thought you couldn’t make it”

“ sit down, junkie.I’m here.” Prof minyard mutters. In a louder tone asks “ why are we here day?”

“Why do you have something you were going to do?”

“ I want to go home and do nothing.”

Prof josten chokes on his water.

“ kevin” Mr wymack says “ tell them or I will.” Prof day huffs “ wymack is my father. I found out last year and I told him a week ago.”

“ this is why I’m here? Kevin, I could be asleep right now. I just worked a 24 hour shift.” Possible prof minyard complains

“Aaron! Be nice.” The red haired woman scolds

“ ok, so, that’s not our minyard.” Casey confirms

“Our minyard?” Aj asks

“Yes”

After about an hour of the teacher meeting talking about stuff, they start to, one by one, venture back home. All that’s left is the real professor minyard, prof josten, and the dean and his wife( who’s name is apparently abby)

“So, um, wymack, we have news. Andrew and I are married. We thought you should know first.” Prof josten states

“Oh! Congratulations boys! When did this happen?” Abby gushes

“5 years ago.” Prof minyard says flatly

“Christ, you two will be death of me. 5 years? Seriously?” Wymack sounds exasperated

Once the teachers leave the students just look at each other stunned.

“So he’s not the side piece, he’s the main piece.” Aj says so solemnly everyone else thinks she’s trying to be funny. She’s not.

Andrew is running late for work. Like, stupidly late.

When they got home, Neil jumped him and they’d spent most of the night having mind blowing sex, then when he woke up it was 10am and sir jumped onto the bed landing directly on his dick. Neil just laughed at that.

His coffee had grounds in it.

He grabbed Neil’s lunch on the way out.

And he’d forgotten to put his ring on.

He was having a bad day.

Thankfully most of his class was also late. “ today we will be visiting the butcher case. The key points are on the board, write them down. Neil josten will be joining us”

Just then Neil walks in, looking so fucking gorgeous. How dare he.

“ hey Drew. I brought YOUR lunch and some coffee. Also your ring is in my pocket if you want it.” Neil says. He’s so sweet, he’s beautiful, and kind, and Andrew loves him.

Andrew pulls Neil in by his pocket and gets his ring out. He puts it on, obviously.

“Care to introduce yourself junkie?” Andrew drawls

“Sure. Hello, my name is Neil josten, I’m here to consult on the butcher case. Any questions?”

A student raises his hand “are you two married?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Neil says coldly

“Why are you consulting on this case?” another student asks

“Because this case is personal, and also because Andrew asked.”

“ sit down rabbit.” Andrew murmurs “We will start with Nathan wesninski’s connection to the yakuza,specifically the moriyamas.

Neil and Andrew switch places when it’s stated that a college student was kidnapped and tortured

“ in fall of 2006 i was kidnapped and tortured by my fathers people. I was brought to my childhood home where my father was going to question and kill me. My uncle on my mother’s side came to my aid, and shot my father. By then I had sustained serious injuries to my face, arms and hands. I was brought to a hospital with two FBI agents in my room. I was demanding to see my teammates. In spring of that year my father killed my mother, she died on a beach in California. Her body was recovered by the FBI for evidence.” Neil recounted

“Junkie” Andrew asked softly

“ I’m fine.”

“I want a 20 page report on my desk by Friday.”Andrew told his students

Neil didn’t have class today, Andrew knew.

“Drew. I need to go. I want to go home. I need you.” Neil whispers

“I know ,love, I know. We will.” Andrew reassures him

They got home hours ago, and Neil immediately went to their bed and beckoned Andrew to come lay down with him.

Andrew was happy. He was so fucking happy.

Neil was kissing down Andrew’s neck as he thought. Andrew gave a shiver of pleasure when Neil sucked a mark just under his ear. He was going to have to cover that up tomorrow.

Andrew was home

[percabeth4life]

How would you write Athena and Poseidon making a bet that their kid couldn't last a day as the other-

And Percy and Annbeth are just trying to avoid unwanted attention... but at an Official Dinner Party and Athena and Poseidon are pretending not to know.

Like- like body swap? Oh stars that would be so fun.

Okay so Poseidon and Athena are having a debate on which of their kids are better and how "well my kid can do this" "well mine can do this" and so on.

And Athena makes a comment about how Percy couldn't last a day in Annabeth's position. Like any of it. And Poseidon is immediately up in arms like "excuse you, my son could be her on her most stressful day and do amazing, but your daughter could never be Percy on his most stressful day" and Athena is like "oh it's on, when are they gonna be stressed?"

And the two go look at the calendar and are like "okay, Annabeth has these projects due this day, and ooh this day has several hard classes, two submissions for project proposals, a meeting about Mt. Olympus rebuilding, and the dinner with us ha!" "Perfect day, Percy has an 8am class, a meeting with some undersea dignitaries and has an exam in his marine biology class, which Annabeth isn't taking, and that's on top of the dinner, so there."

And the two are like "kay we're switching them then" and then go about their day completely prepared to fuck with their kids without telling them to prove their points because the two have completely forgotten that "hey, your kids might not appreciate this"

So Percy and Annabeth wake up on that day and lmao they're each other. When they realize they call each other immediately but they have to get to classes and have all those important things that day so they can't not go so they're mildly freaking out.

So Percy is having to turn in Annabeth's project proposals and at least one is a presentation and the other a doc that she hadn't actually finished putting together and was gonna finish in the morning but Percy has an 8am class (with a teacher that doesn't allow computers) which means she can't finish and Percy has to do that for her cause lets say the first presentation is :) at 9am.

So Percy has to scramble to put everything together for her presentation (lets say in one of her English classes) and he manages to scrap it together from her notes. Then he has to present!

Thankfully Annabeth was alright in the 8am, just took notes for Percy to go over later. But the exam in his class was at 10am, and it's marine biology and she knows nothing about that so has to start scrambling to study his notes.

Percy meanwhile manages to give the presentation, and because he didn't actually read the book and had scrambled to put it together he was winging half of it and managed to point at a different theme altogether but other than a few mix ups he did great!

Annabeth meanwhile is scrambling and stressing over his marine biology class and honestly she probably failed half the exam but she's good at winging stuff and she at least skimmed all the notes so probably didn't flunk it.

Percy manages to turn in her other proposal and then has her physics class! This would be fine except the teacher loves to use the iClicker, which means mini quizzes, which are important to the daily grade. He is allowed his computer so he has a chat open with Annabeth and she's sending him answers there.

Annabeth, meanwhile, is preparing for the meeting with undersea because she only knows what Percy had rambled to her about the undersea so is rather stressed out, especially because all of his notes are in Halmaheran (yes I'm shoving my undersea language in here, yes you will all accept it) and she only knows a few verbal phrases in the language.

Percy then has to grab her notes for the new Olympus design and is absolutely stressing out because Annabeth is a genius and her designs are lovely only he knows none of the terms for half of them and he only knows those cause he picked them up from years of listening to her rambles.

The two meetings are at the same time so they both suffer and can't rely on the other but they try to coach each other before they begin (they don't even have time to try to get someone to fix the situation).

So Percy is presenting to Athena, Hephaestus, and Ares (who's temple is being discussed) and trying very hard to be super polite and chill while stumbling over the presentation and Ares is lowkey annoyed that she's not being like... super professional like he'd heard she was but it's percy not annabeth but only Athena knows.

and she's all smug that Percy is failing and makes a comment and Percy does a 180 because "she did not just insult my girlfriend who I am right now but she doesn't know that I'm gonna crush this" and very aggressively starts talking about all the benefits of the temple having a fighting ring (using everything he's ever learned from annabeth's rambles) and he hadn't put it in the design yet because he (she) wanted to discuss with Ares first about what he thought and Ares is very excited and Athena is glaring.

And while that goes on Annabeth is in the meeting with the dignitaries and only trips over greetings a little and has no idea what half the words they use are but is winging it and doing alright actually (talking with Percy has gotten her used to the language even if she isn't anywhere near fluent).

She manages to talk about all the official undersea business Percy told her about but was a bit hesitant to bring anything too big up cause this is his thing.

but Poseidon makes a side comment on how this is the only meeting they can schedule for a bit and Annabeth is like "fuck it I gotta go for it" and just brings up everything she's ever heard Percy talk about needing improvement in the sea.

And then they meet up to get ready for the dinner with their parents and they're exhausted and have to sit through the thing and watch baffled as their parents actually advocate that the opposite is better at whatever and are about to start a fight and Annabeth and Percy who have been panicking all day are like "hang on-" and then they realize the parents are behind it and like-

the parents are like "yeah because there was no way the other could handle that as good as you" and the two are so tired and done and just go "switch us back".

And anyways the two actually do great as the other because they COMMUNICATE and shit and the Gods underestimated how much they talk to each other. Like yeah they're not nearly as knowledgeable or skilled as the other but they listen and absorb what the other says and it means they can passably discuss the subject with decent confidence.

The school stuff was honestly the hardest stuff and if they flunked anything because their parents switched their brains they will murder their parents.

Apollo is cackling in the background and Aphrodite is like "You two doubted their love and devotion hmm?" and the two are sulking until the next fight.

[applepiry]

Fluffvember Day 21

Prompt: Making up after a fight

BakugouxGN!Reader (Third year)

Contains: Fluff, Soft Bakugou, Swearing

Y/L/N= your last name

F/N= first name

Word Count: 900+

Ry: Ah, yaes, more soft Bakugou content. Here we go with Day 21!

Bakugou stomped into class wearing a pad stuck to his cheek and scowl on his face, stomping his feet heavily with each step to his desk without a word. 

“Dude, was it an accident?” Kirishima asked.

“A man-made accident,” he growls out.

Kirishima and Kaminari look at each other, ‘Ah, Y/L/N...’ they both think together.

“What did you do?” Kirishima asks.

“Tch,” the blond responds with only a grumble and a kick to the chair in front of him as others begin to come in.

“Woah, what's with Bakugou?” Ochako asks, standing next to you as the both of you come in together. 

“Who cares?” you reply coldly, going to your desk and getting ready for the day. Ochako sits beside you with a confused and concerned look on her face.

Truth was, you had slapped the shit out of him and scratched his face after he had said some stupid shit. 

The rest of the day goes similarly, you avoid him at every single turn, and even going so far as to force poor Kaminari to be your partner in PE. After classes, you leave immediately and make a detour so he can’t follow you. You then hole yourself up in your room, and invite Ochako to come study so you have an excuse to ignore his texts.

“What is going on?” Ochako asks you.

“What do you mean?” you reply, scribbling in your notebook as you pretend you have no idea what the brown haired girl was talking about.

“Between you and Bakugou!” she insisted, frowning. “Normally you’re attached at the hip but you have been avoiding him since this morning!” she said, leaning back against your bed and sighing.

You close your notebook and sigh as well. “He’s so possessive. And angry. He saw me texting Midoriya and totally lost his mind! I can have friends, and when I told him he can’t control me or what I do, he snapped back saying he felt the same way, that I was getting in the way of his training and here we are,” you tell your friend, frowning at the memory. 

You could understand some jealousy, but Bakugou took it to a different level when it came to you. If guys so much as looked at you for too long, more than a second, he would yell at them or try to fight them. It was honestly becoming exhausting at this point.

“Wow, that’s rough. I’m sorry he feels the need to do that… I wonder if he got cheated on before…?” she says, then shrugs. “Probably not though, anyone would be too terrified to cheat on him,” she added with a laugh. 

You feel an odd pang in your chest, sighing again. “Who knows? Maybe I should apologize…” you mumble.

“Nah, Bakugou definitely needs to apologize!” Ochako says with a laugh before you two go back to studying when you notice the time.

Once Ochako had left around 9pm, you had opened your phone and clicked on the messages, going through them. You hadn’t checked your phone all day besides to ask Ochako to come over. So, you went through all the other ones first before clicking on Bakugou’s name. Slowly, you scrolled and read his texts to you. One for nearly every hour he had been able to text you.

‘Are you just going to ignore me all day?’ 10am

‘Come on. I hate this.’ 11am

‘Seriously? Kaminari?!’ 11:30am

‘I FUCKING HATE THIS. STOP IGNORING ME!’ 1:20pm

‘Fine then, be mad you brat!’ 2:15pm

‘ANSWER ME DAMMIT.’ 3:00pm

‘Why are you still ignoring me?’ 4:10pm

‘Come on!’ 6:30pm

‘Teddy bear, please…’  8pm

Fidgeting with your phone for a moment, you decide to text him back, even if he isn’t likely awake right now. 

‘I’m sorry for hitting you...’ you type out, chewing on your lip before hitting send. 

Your phone lights up nearly right away with an incoming message.

‘Can I please see you?’

‘Yes,’ is your simple reply.

Not even a minute later, there's a soft knock at your door. You quickly open it, feeling arms wrapped carefully around you, holding you close. Bakugou gently pushes you out of the doorway and closes the door behind you. He says nothing as he leads you to your bed. Sitting down with, he pulls you into his lap, facing him, he proceeds to bury his face into the crook of your neck. 

You feel his breath against your neck, his lips moving but no sound reaching your ears.

“Hm…?” you hum, making it clear you didn’t hear him. He would have to say his apologizes out loud this time.

Pulling his head back and looking into your eyes, he looks as if he’s been crying. 

“I’m sorry for losing my temper… again… with you…” he started, letting out a deep shaky sigh. “I know you’re not cheating on me.. But… I can’t stand when you get so close to that damn Deku.. He’s the one person I’m… worried about losing to… I always say stupid shit I don’t mean when I’m angry... Forgive me, firecracker?” mumbling so you could barely hear him, but loud enough to satisfy you. He was so bad at expressing his feelings, but he was doing his very best. For you.

Gently, you placed a hand on his head, playing with his hair sweetly for a few moments. You wanted him to let his apology sink in, and remember this feeling. It was nice to watch the powerful Katsuki Bakugou squirm under you.

“Hmmm, I’ll forgive you… but let’s try not to do this again, okay? You’re not going to lose me. To Midoriya or anybody...” you tell him, looking back into his crimson eyes. “I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you murmur. 

He looks a bit startled, looking at you with serious, but soft eyes. 

“I love you too, F/N,” he says, holding you closer to him. “So much.” he whispered into your ear.

[bymoonchild]

Get You The Moon (M)

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU,  jock!Taehyung x student reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, cum-dumpster, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, ass-pining, tae has the phattest ass and dick but wbk Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Word count | 19.6k 

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that fake enthusiasm and subtle mirthful nuance that’s too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look up at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have been long established as an inside joke between the two of you due to the peculiar sense of humour that you two share.

This is just how he likes to start his mornings. Being the systematic person he is, he has his own morning routine in the newsroom. Regardless of the pile of work on his desk, he’ll first make a beeline for his first cup of coffee of the day, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his laundry list of snarky remarks – about work, being tired, being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, the negative sides of capitalism and what not. Well, you two share a deep-seated sense of misanthropy so albeit provocative, his laments are refreshing in the morning – a literal morning boost of positivity from negativity.

“Not for long buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and your eyes land on Yoongi, who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it would be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

At this, the edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter and best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously, squinting your eyes in distrust.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips almost instantly. Athletes are the worst people to interview.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. As we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress.”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack,” he grins smugly and that’s when it hits you.

Clocking you square in the face.

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” his smirk widens at your aghast expression, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

Your biggest nemesis.

The boy who lives to torment you.  

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (he’s known for having a god damn symmetrical face and you’re honestly baffled and amazed at how people even took the time to check the degree of symmetry), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone), and 4) he’s also the poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys, star football player and all that jazz.

“What the fuck?”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes, disregarding how the other reporters in the newsroom have jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst.

“You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy, simply because he has none, and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, running his hand through his fingers and you know that signifies that his sigh is genuine, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – observe how he is in class, what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

You don’t miss the 180 change from his previous expression, the soft in his comforting smile replaced with a sneer that is all malign in a blink of an eye.

Panic starts to form a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world. You don’t and can’t choose your beats. What you can do is to go out there and come back with a story, or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, dragging each word, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your fists to tamper down the vexation that threatens to escape your throat, “But for the sake of my GPA and this publication that is my precious baby, I’ll take this up. Very unwillingly though, I must add. But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “Tae? I can never understand how you two are close.”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “May I remind you that Tae and I literally grew up together in Daegu, so he’s like my little bro. Anyways, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you.”

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping your friend off and burying your head in your palms.

But as much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA and the publication, to hell with your pride and Kim Taehyung. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

Building up to Monday aka the Big Day as what Yoongi calls it, while you refer to it as the Day You Die), Yoongi has left you very specific instructions for the profile feature, expecting you to find some easy way out of this. He normally leaves you on your own, knowing that you’d always return with a solid piece that he won’t be able to find anything to nit-pick on. But for this task, he has ordered you to follow the boy around for a whole damn week and expects you to submit your voice recordings for accurate transcription.

Right from the get-go, you can already deem this profile to be the most stressful and frustrating piece in your entire journalism career. In other words, it’s a sham. A popularity stunt. A hoax. An opportunity to give Kim Taehyung even more clout and undeserving commendation than what the resident fuckboy deserves.

The day you finish your story will the best day of your life because you won’t ever need to interact with the said boy ever again.

To say that you hate him would be an understatement – sure, hate is a strong emotion, yadda yadda yadda, but the cacophony of arrogance and smugness that radiates off him makes your face scrunch up in disdain whenever he’s around. Though you would never allow him to have such power over you, he has tormented you countless of times with his shameless flirting whenever he has the chance to, and by simply existing and being his annoying, putrid self. You really don’t know why Taehyung has taken a liking to teasing you and pushing your buttons, ever since Yoongi introduced the two of you two years ago.

The sun is dripping down on the soccer field with delicacy, casting its golden light on the grass patch when Coach blows the whistle from the sidelines. Right in the heart of the field, Number 6 springs into action on the field, shouting commands at his teammates who listen to him intently.

Indeed, there are many other guys running all over the field, decked in the same jersey, but you could instantly recognise the outline of Taehyung’s ass, your eyes fixated on how the fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin. Much to your dismay, one of your thirsty friends had hooked up with Taehyung last Christmas and didn’t allow you to forget the details of his bomb dick game and the thickness of his ass, so it’s fair to say that you have a good gauge of how his ass looks like. Not that you take pride in that knowledge though.

A smug smirk plays on his lips when he scores another goal as he instinctively pumps his fist to the air. You observe how he proceeds to run around the field, high-fiving and patting his teammates to spur them on.

Being the captain of the precious varsity football team, Kim Taehyung naturally carries an aura of confidence, which easily moulds into palpable cockiness. He’s infuriatingly talented and thus, his big ego sadly, and he also doesn’t have much of a filter and says anything that comes to mind. You’ve come to a conclusion that his language is an unfortunate concatenation of sexual jokes, sarcastic taunts and indolent mischief.

As if having sensed your gaze, he cranes his neck in the midst of practice and shoots you a seemingly innocent grin when he spots you standing awkwardly at the sidelines, hugging your notebook like they’re a piece of armour shield. But you know that there is more to his smile than just innocence. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he grabs the hem of his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead and smirks in satisfaction when your face drops disgruntledly.

After calling for a five, he jogs up to you, his smile unwavering. Behind him, his teammates have all huddled together, pretending to drink up and talk amongst each other, but their eyes are all glued on the interaction between you and their captain.

“My my, look who we have here. Isn’t it my favourite girl cheering me on during practice?”

Taehyung’s awful voice pierces your eardrums, thick with honey and mixed with some other cloyingly sweet substances.

Your annoyance reaches its peak level as your eyes narrow to slits when he stops right in front of you.

You could leave right this instance. In fact, you very much want to, but your conscience is holding you back. While you’ve contemplated smoking your way for the profile one too many times, you know that Yoongi, being the smart shit he is, would be able to see through it (and also, Taehyung might just snitch on you) and the mere thought of a disappointed Yoongi just bites you.

“Look,” you spit, facing him properly for the first time, “I’m here against my own will because I have a story to write and that’s the only reason why I am even here. So I would very much appreciate it if you could quit acting like a jerk and let me do my job so I can leave ASAP.”

You’ve never been this up-close with Taehyung before, not when all you ever focus on around him is putting on your bitchiest expression, coming up with spiteful retorts, or pretending that you didn’t see him in the hallway which is actually impossible because he comes for you like a plague.

“Sssh, did you hear that?”

“Huh—”

“That’s the sound of you begging for my help.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Taehyung’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe it off his lips. Your glare seems to only spur it to grow wider, as if somehow your clear distaste for him is amusing to him.

“Going to fake a quote for me again?” He continues, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“If you continue pissing me off, I just might.”

For your previous article which involved having to interact with Taehyung, he had refused to answer your questions properly, spouting nonsense and idiotic pickup lines that served of no value to your article. You just needed a one-liner from the egotistical football captain, but all he did was obliterate your gossamer thin patience and last few braincells. Given his insistent reluctance to cooperate, you eventually made up a quote for him – something along the lines of “I don’t really think much about life – I just YOLO it because you know, YOLO” – and made sure that it reflected him badly.

The quote eventually became the unofficial quote of the year and it gives you so much satisfaction, knowing that it made a small dent on Taehyung’s reputation. On bad days, you’d think of the fake quote and laugh to yourself. Needless to say, he was enraged and even sent complaint emails to Yoongi for false reporting. Journalism ethics? You don’t know her.

“Oh yes, where were we?” He draws out each word with a smooth tone, unfazed, “We were talking about how I hold your fate in the palm of my hands, Princess.”

You hate that nickname he has for you. You don’t even remember when and how it started or what led to the nickname. Grunting out loud in abhorrence, you stop to contemplate kicking him in the shin and running away, but you lack the courage to carry out the former because if you’re to ever hurt the precious varsity captain, you can jolly well bid farewell to your collegiate life.

But before you can even take a step away, he stops you by blocking your passage with an even wider smirk. If he is fucking ecstatic at your rage, he’s determined on making sure that you’re well aware of it. 

“Seriously, if you don’t want to do this, let me know right now so we don’t waste each other’s time.”

“Oh Y/N,” he calls out dramatically and you cringe at how your name rolls off his tongue, “I did promise Yoongi-hyung about that profile, but I didn’t promise him that I won’t make your life a living hell.”

If it’s possible for your eyeballs to roll out of the socket, you’re pretty sure it would have already happened by now because Kim Taehyung is impossible.

“Okay,” you exhale, gathering your thoughts, “Then I will, for the better of mankind, start this civilly. But let me just say that I’ll take the mantle of being the bigger person here, which isn’t hard because you’re technically not a person.”

“Of course, I’m more than just a person,” he laughs and a devilish smirk, way too familiar against your own will, tugs at his lips, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Did I ask? Can we just get this over and done with so that I can stop being around your despicable presence, stat.”

“Now, that’s not the way to treat your interviewee. Also, Yoongi said you’ll be following me around for a week. You’ll be around my ‘despicable presence’,” he holds up his fingers in the air to quote, “For an entire week. You think up for it, babe?”

He waggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint blazing in his eyes, enjoying the scowl on your face.

“Fuck off, Kim.”

His eyes light up when he realises that he’s hit a nerve.

“Every breath you draw in my presence annoys the heck of me,” you edge, words slowing down to a pace that’s normally used on children.  

His large, almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest.

“That’s funny. I thought that after all this while, you would be used to me scoring right into your goal.”

“Get your head out your ass.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know that I have a bomb ass. 10 out of 10 would tap.”

He laughs with an amused grin on his face, the same one he always has whenever he riles you up, finding entertainment in your fury. You hate his laughter. He’s always laughing, his smile huge and genuine and his out of this world personality knocking girls off-kilter. You hate it. Everything about it.

“What the fuck,” you spit scathingly, mouth agape in utter disbelief at the boy in front of you, or Satan himself wearing the flesh of a human.

You end up only asking two questions from your entire list of 15 questions, but it’s as though you’re stuck at square one because his answers are either half-assed or pure nonsense, and boy are you pissed.

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You look up from your misery and see the very cause of the said misery, standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. You don’t miss the extra sarcastic bite to his voice and the irritating smirk on his face, but you’d like to believe that he’s actually impressed by your unyielding resilience.

“Highly arguable. Mentally, no, but physically, yes I am. Not for long though,” you grunt, tone imbued in sarcasm because you are seriously done with this profile feature and you can’t wait for this torture to end.

Lifting your tumbler, you suck on the dregs of your coffee and groan louder at how it’s no longer hot. Lukewarm coffee is like torture to the tongue, much more than burning your tongue. You’re one of the annoying customers who would request for extra hot coffee, because you simply can, and you’re used to them faking a smile and then rolling their eyes when they’ve turned on their backs.

“I take it that something happened?”

“Oh nothing,” you shoot him a sarcastic grin, “Except for the fact that the bastard just toyed with me and wasted my Monday evening. If this is how it’s going to be, I say that we stop immediately.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the first day! I get that Tae can be playful and says a lot of stupid things, but he’s actually a really nice dude.”

“I just don’t like him,” you mumble and your voice trails off upon realising that you sound like a bratty preschool kid who can’t get along with the others.

Yoongi scoffs at your remark to correct you, “You don’t like anybody.”

“As if you’re not the most misanthropic person I know.”

“Wow, this ain’t about me,” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air in faux-defeat, “This is about you and Taehyung. Can you at least tell me why you hate his guts?”

The empty remark that brews on the tip of your tongue dies instantly and all you can lamely mutter is, “Over my dead body.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Wait, what? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him?” Yoongi urges with a confused frown, but your lips are still sealed.

“Something like that.”

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“Nope, continue suffering.”

He rolls his eyes in disbelief, before flipping you the bird.

The next two mornings, you find yourself dragging yourself across the campus and past the newsroom, just to show up at the football field. Upon your arrival, the entire team ditches their warmup session and falls into a collective silence, openly gawking at you and your every movement. The sudden change in the atmosphere elicits an uncomfortable shiver to crawl up your spine. Looks like your social anxiety is about to have a field day.

“Captain, you have a visitor!”

One of the boys hollers with a playful glint in his voice, breaking the silence. At that, some teammates instantly gather in their own circles to whisper to one another, while some discuss your presence without bothering to be discrete. Is this… a jock version of Mean Girls?

“Tae! Your girl is here again!” Another dude shouts and you turn around to shoot a glare at the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed.

“Call me his girl one more time and I’ll make sure your legs won’t make it to finals.”

“Damn, a feisty babe. Noice.”

Another guy comes up to you – Jungkook, you recognise him because he’s in one of your classes. His build towers over you, while he flashes you a small, shy smile and you can’t deny that he is pretty cute with his dimples and doe eyes, which makes him look like a little bunny, but all hope is irrevocably lost when he opens his mouth.

“Hey, I think I lost my number. Can I get yours?”

“Seriously?”

The earlier guy who calls you feisty butts in, “If Taehyung isn’t fucking you right, call me yeah? I’ll make you feel real goo—”

“Minjae, leave her alone.”

You hear a displeased grunt from behind you and turn around to an annoyed Taehyung. His grip on the football in his hand tightens, before he shoves it roughly at Minjae, throwing his teammate off completely.

“Guys, please leave Y/N alone. She’s here to interview me, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it in your pants and have some decency or respect for yourself.”

The boys instantly mutter a sorry, the peculiar sharp undercurrent of their captain’s voice has them heaving themselves upright in alarm.

You turn your head slightly to look at Taehyung, who’s wearing a vexed frown on his face – well that’s a first for someone who is joking around and laughing. Seeing his strong side profile irks the fuck out of you because someone this attractive shouldn’t be such a big nuisance. What an unfortunate waste. Of course, you would rather be impaled than admit this.

“If you don’t go back to warmups, you’re getting another 5 more laps around the field!” He raises his voice to the entire team and they scramble back to their warmup positions like ants.

After making sure that the team is back on the grind, he spares you another look and leads you to an empty bench away from the warmup area.

“Pretty sure you could have handled it yourself, but you looked uncomfortable,” he smiles apologetically, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, if you didn’t make me wait, I wouldn’t have needed to go through that.”

“I was helping this freshman who needed extra help with his dribbling. It’s a one-on-one thing so we were in the clubroom.”

“Whatever, it’s cool.”

“Anyways… I got an earful from Yoongi-hyung this morning. He said that I was being too annoying yesterday, so yeah, sorry about that…” His voice trails off and for once, the smile playing on his lips is sheepish, instead of a cocky one.  

“Huh?”  

“I said I’m sorry. And also for my teammates’ behaviour. Don’t know why they act like this every time they see a girl on the field.”

“D-Did you just apologise to me? Is everything okay, like you know, with your brain?”

“What?” He scoffs, but the smile on his face still remains, “I’m not an asshole. I will apologise if I crossed the line.”

“Kim, not to burst your bubble, but you’ve crossed the line with your annoying and rude ass self since the beginning of time.”

And there it is again. That little grin tugging softly at his lips as his eyes lock themselves on yours.

“Not going to lie, that’s part of my charm.”

You hastily ignore the stirrings of intrigue in your chest, deciding to stop with the chit-chat, “Yeah sure. Let’s just start with the interview. I’ve got a class in an hour.”

He extends an arm to gesture you to sit down on the bench, while he settles down beside you and leans back in an elegant slouch, one ankle crossed over a knee.

“So, let’s talk about the freshmen players this year. Anyone potential successors yet? Do you have a lot of one-on-one trainings?”

“Wow, we playing 20 questions now?”

“Kim,” you sigh loudly with every intention of making sure that he knows how done you are, “I’m literally here to interview you. If I don’t ask questions, then what’s the point.”

“I was just kidding!” He throws his head back with a chuckle, “All right, shoot me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “You’re called the dark horse of the school. How do you feel about that?

“Do you like horses?”

“What?”

“Bet you’ll like mine.”

You cup your face in your palm, as your heaving suspire lowers into an interminable groan, “Kim Taehyung. Before I—”

“Hmmm, so a dark horse…” he begins slowly, “I think it’s a respectable and fulfilling title. It’s when you amaze them with how unexpectedly good you are. It’s about really proving your competence to everyone who didn’t think highly of you before, so I’ll take it with pride and satisfaction.”

You nod your head as he speaks and when he finishes his sentence, you ask with a raised eyebrow, “Practiced that much?”

“Every day before I go to bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Well, I can show you first-hand.”

“You fucking wish.”

Thankfully, Taehyung gradually stops playing around and actually starts answering your questions properly without giving bullshit answers or making suggestive remarks.

At your last question about his legacy in school, he even elaborates without any prompters and you gratefully take everything down, nodding once in a while when he brings up a good point.

“Wow, you’re writing all these down while I’m talking? Can I see?”

You casually hand him your notebook and he gapes dramatically at the notes you’ve taken.

“These are just scribbles, but they’ll help with transcribing later on.”

“Wow I have to say, I’m impressed and also a little turned on right now.”

Rolling your eyes for the nth time in disbelief, you grunt, “Kim, you do know that you’re still being recorded, right?”

“Of course,” he smirks, raising instant flags for mischief etched across his lips, “Here’s a little note for Y/N who will listen to this when she gets home – I think she’s hot as fuck.”

“You’re shameless.”

Laughter bellows from his lungs, “That I am. I’m not going to deny it.”

Afterwards, he offers to take you for a tour around the clubroom, showing you the medals and trophies that the team has snagged over the years. As he elaborates on the trajectory of the varsity team, the noisy chatter of other students outside fades into background noise like timing in your ears.

He shows you a picture of the team taken from two years ago and your eyes nearly pop out at how small and out of place freshman Taehyung looks. He’s grinning widely at the camera, surrounded by his poker-faced burly seniors, painfully sticking out like a sore tongue, even more so with his scrawny build.

“You look way too happy in the picture that I actually have second-hand embarrassment,” you mutter, but Taehyung manages to catch it.  

“Hey! I was an excited freshie and they didn’t tell me it was a formal picture.”

When you leave the clubroom that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Kim Taehyung. Firstly, you learn that he has only been playing football for two years, which comes off as a shock and almost a form of embarrassment when compared to the other guys with at least a decade of football experience, thus deserving the title of a dark horse. He’s always been more of an arts dude, but he got sucked into the sport when he and his best friend from high school Jimin walked past the football tryouts during orientation.

Secondly, either his cologne or shampoo has a fruity undertone and this is derived from the fact that he is suddenly standing so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath and see each glimmer of darkness that surfaces in his orbs, alongside the humming warmth radiating off of his body.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart starts slamming against your chest out of nowhere at the proximity. You’re not used to being so physically close to him and you try not to think about how his alluring scent has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Taehyung seems to know his effect on you because his lips start to spread into a wolfish grin, inching closer to you.

“Your fuckboy antics won’t work on me, Kim.”

Your voice doesn’t come off as strong as you wanted it to, but you hope that he doesn’t catch on.

“You sure about that, princess?” His breath fans out across your cheeks when he speaks, causing instant warmth to scatter over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

Irritation bubbles like a brook throughout your entire body.

It’s taking every single willpower of yours not to headbutt him in the face. You desperately want to, but because you’re obviously the bigger person here and you need to prevent yourself from being expelled from school, you could only jab your finger harshly at his chest.

“Try it on another chick, yeah?”

He uncoils from his slouch and rises to his full height, exuding a smug superiority.

“What if you’re the only one I want to try it on?” He teases, his voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

You shoot him a leer, accompanied with the imaginary daggers to his face, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly. By the anger that undulates from your pinched features, he knows he’s left you tongue-tied, and this only spurs his grin to widen, your clear distaste for him a pure entertainment and amusement to him.

“I hate you.”

You grit, but your voice comes out as a mere squeak. You feel like burying yourself from the weight of his longing gaze. Clearing your throat, you push the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and speed-walk away from him, missing the way he smiles at your departing silhouette.

The shift in Taehyung’s demeanour on the field is beyond commendable, almost palpable to everyone who has their eyes on him. When he’s on the field, there is no fooling around, only the giving of his one hundred and one percent to the game.

Moving agilely with astounding precision, you observe how his sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his eyes sparkle with intensity.

All right. There is some truth that Taehyung looks kind of cool (do people still use that word to describe someone?) and charismatic like this, all serious and immersed in the game. You just wonder if he could be the same when answering your questions.

His brown mop of tousled locks is damp, parted haphazardly, while his jersey clings onto his frame, drenched with perspiration. His biceps strain against the fabric and the veins on his exposed forearms are given prominence when he grabs onto the ball with his fingers effortlessly. Taehyung’s not the buffest, but he is lean with just a nice amount of toned muscles.

When your eyes trail further south for an infinitesimal moment, his tight football pants accentuating the swell of his thighs and the curve of his ass on full display come into view.

Fuck. Your eyes divert back up to his face when you realise what you’ve been gawking at. As the sun hikes up in the sky, it casts a pretty golden glow on his profile, highlighting his sun-kissed skin. You push away the sensation of a small bud blooming in your chest when you meet his gaze, especially when he shoots you his signature boyish smile, a foil to your frown.

Well, looks like someone is happy to see you.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach when Taehyung approaches you without wiping that smile off his face.

“Good job for surviving two and a half days with me. You ready for today?”

“Replying yes or no literally won’t make a difference at all.”

Shrugging, you lift your tumbler to sip on your coffee before pulling a face.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly under your breath, unexpecting Taehyung to catch it but he does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… My coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

“Oh—”

“I bought this tumbler not long ago and it’s supposed to be good at trapping heat, but it just sucks and it was kind of expensive? I’m so angry I need to get another one—”

You stop your rant abruptly when you realise that Taehyung’s been staring at you quietly. He even urges you to continue with a nod of his head.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing.”

It’s not your fault that you tend to get too passionate when talking about your distaste for lukewarm coffee. For something that’s your bloodline, it has to be the right temperature, or else.

“Is that your pet peeve?”

You nod, “You can’t judge me though, or I’ll punch you.”

“It’s cool. If your greatest nemesis is lukewarm coffee—”

“Wrong. My greatest nemesis is the boy who’s currently talking to me right now.”

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance, “I absolutely detest coffee, big ass pills that I can’t swallow, and bread crusts.”

“Wait,” you stare at him pointedly in a cursory silence. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the bitter taste.”

“Okay…” You drag your word out, “But you can just add sugar? Not that I do, I like it bitter. But please elaborate on the big ass pills and bread crusts. For a big boy like you, I have to say that this is pretty amusing.”

Laughter rises in Taehyung’s lungs at the pure confusion on your face, “I can’t swallow pills. Used to always puke them out. I usually crush them and yes, I know it tastes even worse but really, how else can I take my medicine? And bread crusts? Incardinate of evil. I’m really picky when it comes to bread.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic expression. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper chat with Taehyung that didn’t include insults, remarks, or retorts of any kind.

“You’re one weird boy, Kim.”

The conversation carries on smoothly, tucking itself into every available space, and you’ve got to admit that not only is Taehyung not bad at holding a conversation, he’s also a decent listener and listens quietly when necessary. This really piques your curiosity – maybe Yoongi’s right about him, maybe there is indeed a decent side to him. You’re just not sure why Taehyung loves to push your buttons. It’s as if he wants you to give him the time of day.

From your periphery, you realise that Taehyung’s looking straight at you and you freeze at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs.

After mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes to reciprocate his actions, but your gaze diverts to the ground when you realise that his eyes are piercing right into your soul, like they’re searching or yearning for something.

“Kim,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you,” he replies matter-of-factly, his intense gaze never leaving your face. You want to bury yourself alive when you feel a persistent heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink.

“And may I know why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The right corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. He’s raising a challenge.

“Spit it out.”

“Do I say the truth or?”

“Not that bold after all, huh?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth again with a devious little gleam in his eyes, “I was thinking about kissing you.”

You don’t miss how he is openly gawking at your lips and your eyes instinctively rest on his as well, which are somewhere between the colour of peaches and cherries. You’re not sure of what washes over you, but your mouth takes the better of you. And for the first time, your words aren’t clogged in your throat.

“Do it then.”

You look at him through your lashes, dark and coy, eyebrow raised, testing the very limits of Taehyung’s restraint.

The erratic beating of his heart is in sync with yours, but it increases within a second when you notice his gaze fall back on your lips from your eyes. Suddenly, this sparks your curiosity and all you can think about is how good Taehyung’s would feel on yours.

“W-What?”

“Do it, Taehyun—”

Before you could even mutter his name, his lips are suddenly smashed against yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin in its wake when his tongue grazes along the flesh of your lower lip, and you, suddenly so enthralled by the boy in front of you, part your mouth to meet him halfway.

You don’t know how long it has been. With his lips pressed against yours, you lose track of time, watch it fly away in the form of the licks on your mouth. Taehyung slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, cupping your face with his hands to bring you closer to him. His tongue brushes against the underside of yours and then he recedes slightly before tangling for dominance.

Your name leaves his swollen lips in a dulcet whisper, causing your heart to spike in your chest and your stomach to unravel and knot again. You press your palm over your chest to calm the injured patter of your heart against the depths of your stomach.

The way his eyelashes that are almost impossibly thick and dark flutter just a fraction with each breath, brushing slightly against your nose and you squirm at the intimacy of the moment.

When he finally parts away, you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. But your stomach drops again when a pretty blush blooms over Taehyung’s face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. His hands continue to rest on your shoulders, but his touch is so hot and tantalising that it makes you want to melt.

Taehyung has always called bullshit on all those romance novels that rave about how lips can taste as sweet as strawberries. But you taste like the strawberries from his grandparents’ farm – sweet and delectable.

When he licks his lips again, he shudders when his senses register the honey musk of you and the ghost of your afternoon coffee. He hates bitter coffee with a passion, but you taste so fucking sweet. Overly saccharine that he feels dizzy.

You don’t talk about the incident the previous night and you’re grateful that Taehyung doesn’t act any differently. It was most probably the adrenaline that took over you and also perhaps your curiosity because you’re a reporter and reporters are supposed to be nosey, curious and also dreaming about kissing the varsity soccer team’s captain. Yep, absolutely.  

Your pride be damned. While it kills you to admit it, it’s common knowledge to everyone in the fucking school that Taehyung is just really nice to look at, be it when he dons his jersey, a button up or his colourful printed clothes. There is no doubting his ravishing features – his sharp nose, big almond eyes, long eyelashes, perky lips and the little moles that adorn his face.

Unbeknownst to you, you cross paths with Taehyung in a day more often than you think you do. Too often for your own good. Most of the time, you can hear him before he comes into view. His boisterous laughter that highlights a lilting charm to his low voice fills your ears like a plague. It is as though he has intended to haunt you with his loud presence. And though you’ve already made up your mind to avoid him unless it’s necessary to spare him a glance, it’s quite impossible. After all, you have one job – and that is to follow Taehyung for a week.

“Hey Princess!”

You could almost hear the sneer hidden in his coo and envision it with perfect clarity, that infuriating spark in his eye whenever he manages to rile you up. You don’t turn around, your feet bringing you further away from him, but eventually come to a halt when he jogs up to you, blocking your way of passage.

“Princess!”

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you still ignored me? I’m hurt.”

“What do you want?” You grunt loudly, having absolutely no qualms about showing your displeasure.

He slings his football bag over his right shoulder and smiles, “You know, you shouldn’t be mean to a person who just bought you coffee.”

“Wha—”

With a goofy smile pulling at his lips, he pushes a tumbler towards you that was initially hidden behind his back.

“You said you don’t like lukewarm coffee and a styrofoam cup wouldn’t keep it warm by the time I pass it to you, so I got you a tumbler… Besides, you said yours wasn’t good so I figured that I’ll just get you a new one.”

Warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink at his words. You try not to let the fact that he remembers get to you, but he fucking remembers.

You are a college student to the bone. Turning your back on coffee would be a sin. But coffee from Taehyung? In a tumbler that he purposely bought because he fucking remembers what you said?

“How—”

He beams, simpering at your speechless self. He thinks your shocked expression is adorable, doing nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of his chest.

“Did you, like, stalk me or something?”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“You’re so weird.”

Despite being surrounded by the steaming, teeming mass of students in the crowded hallway, the moment you two share is as private and as comforting as sitting on the sideline bench alone.

“Enjoy your coffee! This tumbler has very good reviews, I checked! So your coffee should be still hot. If not, text me and I’ll give them a bad review.”

“W-What? Tae—”

Before you could call out for him, he has already scrambled away and blended in with the crowd. You deadpan mentally when you realise that the entire hallway is gawking at you and the tumbler around your hand. But what’s more alarming is the strange tightness in your chest and the warm, tingling feeling coursing through your fingertips that you can’t get rid of.

You start learning random things about Taehyung beyond just football and general facts that everyone knows about him. It’s surreal how drastically your relationship with Taehyung has changed over the past few days. While snarky ripostes and greasy comments (from Taehyung, of course) are still exchanged, talking and listening to each other, or just being with each other, feels almost natural to you. But you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased.

The daily meetings bring the two of you into line: by tacit and unconscious consent, you two have begun to weave a space for each other in your lives, forming a joint narrative like a breeze in the boughs, hanging in the spaces in between the two of you.

He was telling you about how he likes comparing his cheeks to bread buns, and he likes to stuff his cheeks when he eats, and that his grandparents would get upset if he returns to his hometown with sunken cheeks. You don’t realise that you’ve been grinning this entire time listening to him ramble on about his cheeks, but your smile grows even wider at Taehyung’s lock screen when his phone lights up from a notification.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a little too loudly and shoves his phone in your face, “Say hi to Yeontan! Isn’t he just adorable?”

Your heart jumps at his excited smile and the tinges of pure adoration dancing in his orbs.

“Aww, he looks like a little ball of fluff.”

“He is! But he can also be very grumpy. Like you.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” You fold your arms fold over your chest in faux-rage.

“Such audacity!” He raises his palm to his chest with a gasp, feigning indignation. “He’s not just a dog. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me ever since I saw him at the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“Oh, I volunteer at a shelter for abandoned and stray pets every month. You know, Yeontan was actually abandoned by his previous owner and I don’t know, I just had to take him in? I would take all the animals at the shelter if I could, to be honest. Maybe next time. Anyways, let me show you more pictures! I have an album full of his pictures.”

“Dude…”

“Don’t be like that. I already have a Yeontan who gets super unenthusiastic whenever I show him pictures of other dogs. I think he’s jealous.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well.

“Well, Yeontannie sure is one lucky dog.”

“More like I am one lucky boy,” he beams, flashing his honey bread cheeks in all their glory.  

There’s no denying the sweet quiet of Taehyung’s presence when he’s not making stupid remarks, and this is expounded by how time seems to forget about its own existence these few days. Before you know it, it’s already dark and you’re soon packing up to head back home.

“I’ll need you to go through some fact-checking with you tomorrow. You free around 6pm?”

“Shit, I think I have something on,” Taehyung pouts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, “Let me check.”

“Oh, then it’s fine—”

“Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No! No, it’s fine!”

“It’s okay, I can just postpone it—”

“That’ll mean that you’re cancelling for me.... and you know, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just dinner with Jimin. Fact-checking is important for your article, right?” He says quietly, while his eyes come slowly round and rivet themselves upon your face.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes, igniting a blaze deep in your bones and washing your senses away. All of a sudden, your throat feels constricted, breaths coming out short. You’re hyperaware of how close he is and to be honest, you feel like you’re standing in a room that’s on fire, too hot for the chilly evening which has a very high chance of rain.  

Even if you continue to insist that you despise him, you can’t help but admit that somewhere deep down, something between the two of you is now different. 

Exhaustion creeps up onto Taehyung, the pain in his arms manifested in his back as well, gradually sneaking into his legs until all his limbs are aching and stiff. Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth in frustration, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill.

On Friday, you’ve walked into the team huddled in a circle, frowns all over their faces, a congealing tension evident in the air. From the clamour, it seems that one of the boys have gotten injured during practice and the team was split into two on who to be held responsible and whether there was any foul play involved.

From the sidelines, you watch Taehyung order everyone to shush and makes everyone sit down for a deconflict session. He appears surprisingly calm and addresses the issue in a collected manner. Afterwards, he invites the team to share about how they feel, allowing the conflict to openly spoken about and viewed from different perspectives. He listens attentively, like he always does with you, and speaks clearly and practically, easing the tension in the air till their teammates start coming to a consensus.  

When he sees you standing at the sidelines, he gives you a small smile that you easily see through and approaches you after making sure that his teammates are cool with one another and reminds them that whatever happens on the field stays in the field.

“So um,” you begin quietly, treading carefully around his feelings, “Are fights like that common?”

You already know the answer from looking at the size of the dark bags under his eyes. He is slowly breaking down, but still holding tightly onto the carefree façade that he puts on for show, for the team. It’s also mid-terms period and from the earlier interviews, you remember that he is on a scholarship that he cannot afford to lose because his parents are struggling to send his other siblings to school as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung isn’t an open book. He’s more of a sealed book, covered in dust and trapped in a forgotten corner of a bookstore. He has his own elusive way of dealing with ways, befriending people, treasuring the people and things around him, but he has also his own way of hiding his feelings. He hates the idea of being vulnerable with people.

He is a combination of hot and cold – sometimes you feel like he’s an old friend because of the emotional compatibility and his comfortable presence, but sometimes, he just goes back to being the cocky fuckboy he is. Maybe that’s just part of the jock persona – to deceive people into thinking that he’s more than that. But in all honesty, that’s not Taehyung and you wouldn’t compartmentalise him like that or homogenise him as just another fuckboy no matter how much you dislike him.

You think you’d know him quite well from having shadowed him the past week. It has come to your realisation that you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased, but you’re not sure whether it’s because he’s just tired from everything to go out of his way to be annoying. But you don’t have any complaints.  

He lets out a dry chuckle at your question, his words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, “Are you asking this as a friend or as a reporter?”

“We’re friends?”

“We–”

Some threads of a biting remark begin to sew themselves together in his mind, but he stops instantly, too tired to really fabricate anything, much less bother to speak.

“Taehyung,” you call out after drawing a furtive breath, “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great friend and captain.”

Your soft and sincere tone permeates through Taehyung’s every last prickle of frustration, especially when you offer him a reassuring smile, “What you did out there was one of the selfless acts I’ve ever seen in a leader. And this should mean something, you know, considering that it’s coming from me.”

“Of course I am, I’m actually nicer than I look.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I’m trying to be serious here and on the off chance you’re not, fuck off.”

He remains quiet.  

“I’m serious though. It’s obviously not easy being the captain, but it’s clear that you have rightfully earned the respect from all your teammates. You handled it quite well without being biased or losing your cool.”

“I did?” His tone, deep in timbre, is so quietly surprised that it gnaws at your heart.

“Yeah.”

“Conflicts like that are a daily occurrence,” he mumbles, “But they can really break or make our teamwork and… the momentum for me as their captain, so I have to try? I have to be responsible for my guys.”

You watch how a cocky smirk instantly settles itself on his lips right after you think that he has opened up, “But I might be just great at forming relationships and team-bonding.”

“Judging from how you treat the girls around you, I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Girls around me?”

“You’re a fuckboy. I don’t think it’s safe to say that your relationships with girls are great.”

“It’s just sex, no big deal.”

“And that gives you the right to play with their feelings?”

“Of course not, we just hook up that’s all. No hard feelings. It’s just sex with no strings attached and they all know it. Before I hook up with someone, I make it very clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun.”

“Okay, but let’s say for example, a girl does end up falling for you. Is that solely her fault?”

He stops to think.

“For now, I just don’t wish to get involved in anything serious. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with feelings.”

You scrunch your nose up in distaste when Taehyung shrugs his shoulders casually, dismissing the conversation.

You’re not someone who is easily lost for words, always quick to retort with a witty comeback, especially when it’s with Taehyung. But this time, all you could mutter is an “I see”, before pretending to focus on writing on your notepad. For some reason, you feel like your heart just took a dip. The thought of him playing around with girls leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you can’t comprehend why. Since when did you care what Taehyung does with his life? You never did before.

Maybe it’s because at the back of your mind, you know that your said example might not exactly be one. Maybe.

Sunday arrives quicker than ever. In retrospect, you know this day would come – in fact, you’ve been waiting for this day ever since Yoongi assigned you the profile. But there’s just something – sort of a difference in the air surrounding you and Taehyung – that kneads at your heart about this coming to an end. Whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word when you take a sip from the tumbler that he gave you, but you’re pretty sure that the way his eyes instantly lit up with a smile to match says it all.

“Oh right! Have you eaten breakfast? I, um,” he coughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his hand with a nervous smile, “made some sandwiches this morning.”

He turns around to his sports bag and fishes out a lunchbox, “Strawberry cream sandwiches!”

“My grandparents own a strawberry farm, so I get all the best strawberries!” He beams, and his eyes turn into little sparkly crescents. At that, your heart skips in two, one half in your throat and the other down in your gut.

“Not to be biased, but these are the tastiest and sweetest strawberries ever. Oh! After Japanese strawberries, but don’t tell my grandparents. They’ll be sad.”

“Anyways, try it,” he hands you a sandwich and you take a moment to observe how it screams Kim Taehyung at his finest. He has trimmed the bread crusts (his nemesis) and added a shit ton of cream cheese.

Taehyung’s crescent-like eyes are now staring straight into you as he watches you bite into the sandwich, anticipating for your reaction. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting.

You smile at the sweet and sour taste and he literally jumps with joy, flashing his honeyed cheeks.

“It’s good, right?” He chirps, beckoning you to eat more and you ignore how Taehyung’s cheeks are fully stuffed and how he chews with a natural pout on his lips.

For a moment, the world seems to be out of space and time as you sit on the bench, savouring the sweetness of everything. Taehyung is looking at you and the moment is lengthening. He becomes severely tongue-tied, no longer knowing what to say, but yearns for this moment to stay the way it is.  

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Talking about the weather now?” You ask in a bemused tone and he puffs, rolling his eyes playfully, but the growing tingle of pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape your notice.

“I-I mean... It’s nice.”

A softness settles into the lines of Taehyung’s face, and you can’t bring yourself to look away when his eyes land on yours, “It’s nice being here with you.”

And he means it. He generally feels good around you. He isn’t an anxious or socially awkward person, and he’s got tons of friends, but he still finds himself putting on a mask with most of them. A slightly louder, a more playful and enthusiastic version of himself. He almost always becomes the life of the party, the person who makes things easier and more comfortable for everyone else – breaking the silence, making jokes, drawing people out of their shells and easing them into conversations. He likes being that kind of person.

But it does get tiring, sometimes.

He likes being quiet, sometimes.

Sometimes, he just likes to curl up on the couch in his PJs and not feel like he has to be Funny! Loud! And gregarious! All at once. On some days, he just wants to laze around and watch anime till his eyes bleed. On some days, he just wants to be a normal college student without a team to manage and reputation to uphold.

You roll your eyes at his sudden confession, hoping that the warmth that sits high on your cheeks isn’t that obvious, but it probably is, from the way your heart ensnares at how Taehyung’s lips are stretched so widely across his face, his crescent eyes crinkling so adorably that you find yourself smiling too.

“You’re a loser,” you tease, shoving him lightly.

Then Taehyung is laughing, highlighting the undertones of oak and berries. He is laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and his chest aches with a drumming sound against his ribcage. Soon, laughter pokes its way across your glassy eyes, with tinges of amusement waltzing in your orbs, and pink cheeks and you’re doubling over him, with tears in your eyes and nose all scrunched up. Taehyung is holding onto you and the moment is lovely, everything is lovely.

You’re lovely.

Taehyung raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you and chuckles again when you jump slightly.

“Gotta say that I’d miss having you around. You and your pesky presence. Can’t believe a week just went by just like that.”

“Rude,” you half-heartedly taunt, pushing his hand away, while a corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation.

“It was fun being your side hoe though. Do you know how many glares I’ve received by strangers, literally girls I’ve never seen before in my entire life, in the hallway? Imagine the power I have.”

“What side hoe?” He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, “You’re as good as my main.”  

Your heart pulses erratically in your chest, cheeks flushed with a warmth that matches the one that blooms in your heart. The way he makes your heart soar terrifies the fuck out of you.

“Not sure if I should feel honoured.”

“You know, I actually don’t know how we ended up like this. You hated me for the longest time and now we’re sitting here.”

“I did hate you, all right.”

“You have such a personality.”

“That’s another way of calling me a bitch.”

“As in… vibrant, colourful, I don’t know how else to describe you. You’re rude and endearing at the same time – it’s weird.”

The most adorable of smiles form on his face as he lets out a wholehearted laugh, it makes your insides melt.

A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own, “And you’re still a huge pain in the ass.”

“Still a bomb ass that I’ll tap.”

Later in the day, you receive a text from Taehyung. It’s not the first time that he has texted you. But little did you know that he would be a freaking double texter.

[from annoying ass jock] [18:49] hey you [18:49] do you want to grab dinner [18:49] i am very hungry right now lol [18:49] i mean you’re probably hungry unless you’ve eaten? [18:49] take this as a goodbye dinner, celebratory dinner wtv [18:51] feel free to say no tho HAHAHAHA

[you] [18:53] stfu I wasn’t going to say no [18:53] clam down [18:54] i’m kinda craving for a good burger and cheese fries

The night passes by smoother and faster than expected. Maybe it’s because you don’t realise the possibility of it being a date. The way Taehyung has asked you for dinner seems rather impromptu, so you’ve completely eliminated the idea of it being a date.

On the other hand, Taehyung himself knows that this is a date. While you’re cutting into your burger, he is furiously chewing on his fries, struggling to believe that you had even taken up his absurd offer of eating dinner together. On a Friday evening. With him. Is it a sign of peace? Or even something more?

He offers to walk you back to your dorm after that, telling you that he needs to walk off his burger. When he walks side-by-side with you, you focus at how he is so tall, how his height literally hovers over you, doing nothing but darkening the pink high on your cheeks.

When he stops in his track abruptly, you have to tilt your head upwards to look at his face, and each passing streetlamp casts his already golden skin in an orange glow, throwing tiny suns in his eyes into orbit.

Tonight is a little different.

The way he’s looking at you is a little different.

He takes your palms into his and starts playing with your fingers, allowing the two of you to stew and bask in the quiet contentment of the night.

His other hand rests gingerly on your waist, before bringing you closer to him. Then you find his lips graze the shell of your ear and shudder at his warm breath on your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your body.

Your mind goes blank. All you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face, and how there are little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours. How he’s so gentle with you as if you’re a delicate piece of art.

How much you want him to kiss you.

Honestly, it takes you by surprise how much you actually want him to do just that, how much you’ve unconsciously thought about this so often that you can already imagine the ghost of his fingers down the cleft of your chin.

A fizzle of electricity runs down your spine when he brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to each finger, before he brushes over your knuckles to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He’s looking at you with as much certainty as you know that he’s going to sweep in and kiss you. You offer him a smile, and it is all the reassurance Taehyung needs before he leans in to press his lips against yours. Something akin to fireworks explodes inside you, colouring your insides and nerves with rainbow sparks. It makes you feel so alive.

The gentle brush of skin becomes static charge. He takes his time with you and kisses you like he’s always had the intention of doing so, like this isn't a spur of the moment catastrophe. Like he wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for the longest time.

You are abstrusely drawn to Taehyung. Like planets condemned by gravity to collide, you two have become yoked as one. It’s the headiness of his scent, the taste of his lips, his tongue that carefully darts over your bottom lip and seeks entrance. It’s the way he’s kissing you, so different, so soft and gentle, like it’s grounded in something you can’t quite place, compared to the first kiss.

Taehyung’s lips are soft like the cup of his hands around your face, but it is the settling of the repeated brush of his mouth against yours that makes you almost melt into the ground.

Nipping lightly at your lower lip, his lips curl up into a smirk when he hears a gasp escape from your mouth, your heart ricocheting in your chest.  

It’s an amalgamation of teeth, hidden feelings and pure adoration that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you wanted and more. But even when your tongues tangle with one another, it is more sensual and romantic than hasty and lustful.

The night is upon you when he parts from you moments later, allowing you to catch the breaths that have escaped from your now swollen-red lips and come down from your highs. You’re staring at him with eyes laced with fondness, before he leans in to meet your forehead and chuckles to himself at how surreal everything is.

You shouldn’t be feeling so happy, so satisfied, but you feel like you’ve been moon-struck. God, you can’t even figure it out yourself. Not when you’re tucked into his broad sturdy chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head and hand resting gently around your waist. Listening to his heartbeat. Though you’re aware that he isn’t looking for anything serious, you want to believe that maybe, just maybe his heart is beating as thunderously as yours because he’s serious this time.

“Not about to feint surprise at how you’re still alive because I’m going to need that profile from you, but I have to ask. Did you not sleep last night?” You look up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrow at you with suspicion.

“Ah, the appearance of negation in a question – my cup of tea. Do I reply yes or no to your pervasive question?”

“Very snarky today, I see. You look like melted ice cream, topped with tasteless sprinkles.”

“And you look like a boiled dumpling.”

“Thanks.”

“I was up doing work last night.”

“You’ve already handed up all your submissions,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I know… I just… was,” you shoot Yoongi a pointed look, “thinking about stuff.”

The change in his expression lets you in that he knows exactly about what’s up, “Thinking about stuff, huh?”

“I’m just so—”

“Whipped for Kim Taehyung and I want to tap that ass. South Korea’s ass, yeah?”

“Disoriented. The word I was going for was disoriented, thank you very much. But also, what the fuck?”

“I said what I said.”

“I also said what I said. Don’t be gross.”

“Look,” Yoongi clears his throat, as if to brace himself for his forthcoming words, “I don’t really want to be involved in whatever feud or relationship you have – look how I didn’t overgeneralise because I’m generally confused. But one thing’s for sure. You clearly have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Anger, impatience and animosity.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs in incredulity and gives you a look like he can look through your soul and tell that you’re lying through your teeth.

“What the fuck, dude? Kim Taehyung is just urgh. There is nothing good about that jock – all he knows is fucking around and getting onto my nerves. Seriously—"

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your laptop while working on that profile? Or how you’re glued to your phone because he’s texting you or sending you memes?”

“What?” You blurt out in disbelief.

“Don’t fight me on that – you hate texting. I’m not blind, Y/N. He obviously ignited something in you.”

“What the fuck,” you snarl, “That’s disgusting. I don’t even know what’s so interesting about him, like why the heck are people so smitten by him. They must be blind or something. I swear that I’ve lost at least 10 years of my life from spending an entire week with him. Don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking understand why people put him on a pedestal. He’s really your typical jock? Another egotistical fuckboy. An airhead with no personality. I don’t understand why people like him so much—"

“Um… Taehyung…”

“What?” You flare up impatiently, acrimonious at how Yoongi keeps interrupting your hate speech, totally missing the grimace on his face.

“Y/N, Taehyung… He’s behind you.”

You spin around and your heart drowns in your chest.

The sight of Taehyung’s face of reticence at the door punches you straight in the gut. He shakes his head with a forlorn smile that you can easily see through and turns on his heels, walking away quickly.

Without hesitation, you run after him, your chest tightening with a disconsolate, stifling feeling, as if you’ve just swallowed a hard lump of cloud.

“Tae! I can explain–”

He turns around, maintaining his distance from you, “Gee Y/N, I didn’t know you hated me that much. I thought… thought that after spending all this time with me, your feelings might have changed. But you still… you still hate me, don’t you?”

“Taehyung, listen – I didn’t mean it. I j-just–”

His brows crinkled together in a tight wedge, eyes pressed shut.

“You meant it.”

“I–”

Your tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of iron.  

“You meant it,” he repeats, shoulders sunken low, crestfallen, and you swear, you see hurt in his eyes.

Your heart immediately falls with it, knowing that you’re the cause of his sadness. It feels like there’s a fist seizing your heart and squeezing it until it bursts and splatters all over the walls. When he walks away from you, the pain remains, unabated.

Only heaven and you yourself know how much you did not mean it.

When you wake up the next few mornings, it’s as if a shadow is lurking at the back of your mind.

There is a tirade running on loop in the back of your mind, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. But anger is merely a convenient emotion that easily covered up for sorrow. You are angry at yourself for hurting Taehyung.

You’d never say it, but in between glances, hazy mornings at the field and the exchange of witty ripostes, your feelings for Taehyung have changed, unbeknownst to the world. You have no idea when it happened. When the lines that so clearly distinguished you from Taehyung became so blurred. When he stopped being irritating, an obstacle, an enemy and became something else entirely.

You don’t exactly know when you started to thaw and let your guard down to let him in, but you know that you… like seeing Taehyung smile. And you also know that you want to be one of the reasons for his smile.

Despite the overwhelming amount of work you need to attend to, these few days, you spend a lot less time working on your assignments like you should be and a lot more daydreaming about twinkling eyes and a distinctive laughter from a boxy smile. It doesn’t go past your notice – how your heart goes all erratic when a particular football player is around, his sunshine smile radiating the darkest part of your mind and threatening to break your steely, collected demeanour into bits.

You have been so scared to let him in, so afraid to let yourself fully submerge in the comfort of his touches, in the calm that envelops you when Taehyung is beside you, listening to you ramble, or when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You tell yourself that you’d be fine. That life goes on. That Taehyung is just another almost and you can live without talking to him again like how your life was before this whole shit-show. But you remember the current that zaps you whenever he brushes his hand against yours, the ricocheting of your heart whenever you find him staring at you. You also think about the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes whenever he laughs and the music of his laughter that you’ve grown to adore. Little did you know, the warmth at the pit of your stomach has long built a house to reside in and it’s yearning for its owner to come home.  

It hurts.

It hurts because Taehyung has the prettiest, purest and brightest of all souls. He views the world in a different light with all his little quirks. You adore his ardent love for classical jazz (he accidentally played his music out loud when you were with him and gave you a whole lecture on and you didn’t stop him for he spoke so animatedly with stars in his eyes), for strawberries and his family that he would have been a farmer with his grandparents if he didn’t attend college.

Because when he loves, he loves so fiercely, softly and dearly, like the first snow, like the fresh dew on a perfectly bloomed rose. Soon, the gentle heat of the morning will send him back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Taehyung flows like honey in your soul and makes you feel so whole, but vulnerable at the same time.

He’s a dream come true, a daydream, a part of the labyrinth where reveries rest. He’s just so wonderfully and ethereally endearing.

The ache in your chest throbs especially when you spot a cute dog on the way to the café downtown and whip out your phone to snap a picture to tell Taehyung that it’s one of Yeontan’s little friends. You almost hit the send button, but your thumb freezes into place when you remember.

Right.

He’s never going to talk to you again.

It also hurts extra bad when you’re glued to your laptop, fingers hacking away to finish up the feature article on the said boy, writing about the true Kim Taehyung that currently, only you know of. But he probably hates your face right now.

“Hey, you’re—”

“Yoongi, no. I’m not alive. I’ve never felt more dead before.”

“I was going to commend you for being here today after you know, yesterday’s incident.”

He grabs a chair and sits by you and a dreadful sigh escapes from your lips because you’re well-aware that Yoongi is going to make you talk. He isn’t the type to let you ignore your feelings, preferring in honest and open communication even if it pains you to talk about your feelings because you’re so emotionally constipated.

“How are you?”

Burying your face in your hands, you somehow manage to choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, “Feel like shit. I thought I hit rock bottom. But now it’s rock bottom, 50 feet of crap and then me.”

If Yoongi notices the tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it and you’re grateful for that.

“Tell me more.”

It’s not a question.

God, you hate it when he presses. Fuck journalists and their persistence of sticking their noses into other people’s business. You want to laugh at how ironic this is.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you laugh dryly and cringe at how fake it sounds.

You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, “I am just another dumb bitch who fell for him.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue being like this, I don’t really know how to help you.”

“I’m not kidding. I feel so dumb for liking him. In fact, one part of me is fucking furious that I’m so vulnerable right now. I hate feelings.”

“First of all, you’re not dumb for liking him. And second of all, human beings are vulnerable and all feelings, no matter how small or insignificant or cliché they are, are all valid. That’s how we grow.”

He continues sagely, “Look, whatever happened between you two is a mess. So you hated him last time, but you’ve developed feelings for him, and that’s all that should matter, no? Don’t refuse your feelings just because you know, you’re too ashamed or scared to acknowledge them.”

Your mouth opens and then snaps close. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything that has occurred.

“Does it matter if I acknowledge my feelings?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He told me that he isn’t looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun. I literally just played myself.”

“I don’t exactly know what Taehyung feels about this. But what I know is that they have their first game in a few days and he hasn’t been doing well. Coach has been going really hard on him. You should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper helplessly, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand atop yours as a form of comfort and suddenly, everything seems okay. Even if it is just in that moment.

Before you clock out of the editorial room, Yoongi sends you back with your article to vet through before giving the green light to the designers. Scrolling all the way to the bottom of the document, you realise that Yoongi hasn’t fixed anything at all to the point that you wonder if he has accidentally sent the wrong version. Until you spot his message at the bottom in really tiny font because you know, Yoongi.

I said that you’re the only person who could cover this feature article and I wasn’t wrong. Well done. Hope you know that I’ll always have your back, alive or dead.

You decide to drop by football practice the next day. Lurking near the bleachers, you jump in horror when Jungkook spots you being suspicious. From the way his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights upon the sight of you, you know that he’s aware of the recent happenings.

“Hey,” he offers you a small smile, but you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes that he is shagged to the bone.

“Hi.”

“Y/N, right? You okay?”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Cap is a mess?”

“Is he really?”

He laughs dryly, “Aren’t you here to confirm that?”

“Um—”

“Sorry, I just… the stress is getting to all of us. But especially to hyung. He’s being really grilled by Coach for the sudden dip in performance.”

“Right… I’m sorry… If I caused this. I just—”

Across the field, Coach’s whistle shrills through the air and you realise that it’s directed at Taehyung. From where you’re standing, his grunts are almost inaudible, but the sound of his voice still traverses the darkness of your mind.

“You know, this is the first thing hyung is being grilled by Coach. He’s always been Coach’s favourite, even right from the very start, so Coach doesn’t really know how to deal with him either. Hyung’s even worse than his freshman self. You know, hyung didn’t know shit about football when he first joined? It was a joke. He really worked his way up, even though all he wanted was just to play on the field.”

A sudden prick of guilt pinches at your chest.

“Hey Jungkook, could you do me a favour? Could you pass this to him? You can just leave it on top of his bag? I think he’ll know.”

When Taehyung hobbles into the locker room feeling like death after a vigorous grilling session, his legs almost collapse on the floor. But then he sees a lunch box atop his bag and runs towards it, huffing louder than usual, so hard that he feels like his lungs might collapse like his legs. And when he opens it, only to see a nicely packed strawberry sandwich with a little post-it note on top of it, he lets out a huge breath and for the first time in years after his grandmother’s passing, Taehyung cries.  

Don’t tell your grandparents (sorry!) but these are Japanese strawberries. Good luck for Sat, Yeontannie and I believe in your galaxy 💜

A big commotion startles Taehyung from his mandatory quiet time that he sets aside before each game. He’ll put on his headphones and play his jazz playlist to meditate for at least a good 10 minutes, allowing both his muscles and mind to rest. But even his noise-cancelling headphones can do so much in blocking out his rambunctious and adrenaline-filled teammates.

“Captain! Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Captain!”

“Tae!”

“Wha—”

Before Taehyung could even remove his headphones to bark at his teammates for disturbing his peace, the door that swings open reveals his very confusion, rendering him utterly speechless.

He sees you standing there with an apprehensive expression, looking out of place as fuck, and if it’s possible, Taehyung can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically from here.

When your eyes land on Taehyung sitting across the room, the first thought that pops into your mind is that it feels like eons since you’ve last seen his face. It’s only been a few days, but you miss seeing him. You miss him so fucking badly.

He looks tired. There are dark circles painting his under-eyes and frown lines on his forehead and that doesn’t sit well with you, because there’s always either an annoying smirk or a bright smile plastered on his face.

For moments and moments, your eyes rest on the boy in front of you, drinking in his presence – the coruscating eyes and pretty lips behind his inspired, untiring voice.

“Hi,” he breathes with an indifferent expression, removing his headphones hastily before he stands up to close the gap between the two of you. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice.

“Hey,” you whisper back, lips quivering. There are many more words on the tip of your tongue, but the prevailing fear that catches in your throat freezes your lungs.

The boys have filed out of the locker room to give you two some privacy and now the world is basking in their awkward, ricocheting off the window in a quiet plea for noise. It is so quiet that if you focus more, you could hear the erratic thumping of your heart.

“How’s your article?” Taehyung asks and silence comes to splinter like a stone thrown at a wall, colliding with it and shattering like lightning bolts.

A frown settles itself on your temple at how he is trying to make everything seem all right. How the first thing he does is ask you about your article when you’re the one clearly at fault and he isn’t even showing signs of anger towards you. How could he be so selfless?

“It’s fine,” you mumble, “But I’m not here to…. I’m…”

Without warning, you go on your toes and reach for the rosy flesh on his mouth. At your touch, his entire body softens. It feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung gives you a little nod, his way of saying it’s okay, before closing his eyes until they disappear in the shadows of his long black lashes.

You kiss him with profound earnestness that had been missing during the first kiss, dusting kisses over every inch of his blushing features, until you’re breathless, dizzy with want. There’s this inexplicable spark of desire growing within you and warming your body from inside out. Your heart longs for him, marvels in how right it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to be as close to him as possible.

Gosh, you’ve missed this so much.

Taehyung’s hands find your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re the most delicate flower he has ever encountered, as if your petals would tear apart if he wasn’t gentle with you. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, searching your gaze silently. Now that you’re here, standing right in front of his very eyes, it makes everything all the more painful.

You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into another gentle kiss, falling onto him like moonlight on a window seat.

“Princess…” He calls for you, voice deep and huskier than you’d ever heard it, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine, “You know that I’m physically incapable of being angry or upset with you.”

The two of you move silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you whisper against his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay, love. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

More words are lost on his tongue as he seizes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his eyes trace the outline of your visage, from the curve of your nose to the arch of your philtrum and down to the soft of your lips.

“Are we just going to stare at each other until the buzzer rings?” You joke.

“Can I? I haven’t looked at your face enough lately,” he laughs, “Missed your face. A lot.”

His eyelashes brush against his cheeks, following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. When he leans a fraction of a space closer, his bangs brush softly against your forehead.

“Taehyung…” You breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing away his bangs from his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

“As a friend or a reporter?”

“Neither,” you reply, “I just wanted to know… Since when?”

“Since when?” He tilts his head.

“Since when did you start having feelings for me?”

He laughs like it’s an obvious question, tugging the fallen strand of your hair behind your ears. His expression is hard to decipher, it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but he is smiling so widely that it’s almost blinding.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. Remember when Yoongi-hyung introduced you to me and you were angry about something?”

“I’m always angry about something.”

“I thought you were interesting as fuck.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why you hated me?”

“Fine. It’s because… Iwasjealousathowyou’regoodateverything.”

“W-What?”

“I was jealous… because you’re good at everything. Like without even trying. And I thought it was plain unfair, because people like me need to work so hard to do well, while there are people like you who are just… born talented.”

“I—”

“But after getting to know you, I realised that I’ve completely misunderstood you. You hide a lot of things about yourself, but you’re incredibly humble and hardworking even though you’re fucking annoying and cocky. And you’re so selfless, you offer help to your teammates when you notice them struggling. And you’re also so nice to everyone, you make them feel comfortable. Y-You kind of bring light to everyone around you. That’s just your charm, I guess.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but he beats you to it, taking your palm into his. He starts playing with your fingers, mapping every whorl of the ridges on your fingertips.

“Remember the day Yoongi introduced us to each other? It was also the day I failed my scholarship interview. I was up against you and there was only one slot left. You got it, so when you were teasing me for being grumpy, I kind of took my anger out on you. Felt like you were making fun of me.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, “I was smiling at you because I found you cute, dumbass. I kept pestering Yoongi-hyung to introduce me to you so when he finally, I was so nervous and didn’t know how to behave in front of you. I didn’t even know that I was up against you for the scholarship.”

When Yoongi first introduced you to Taehyung, he thought that you two would hit off long. But he didn’t take into account the fact that Taehyung and you are polar opposites – your petulance and Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a stark juxtaposition. So when Taehyung opened his mouth and told Yoongi (right in front of you, bitch) that you looked like you were about to cry, his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked, right after you found out that you failed your scholarship, so it was a straight-up no for Kim.

“Well, we’re both dumb.”

You look away in faux-annoyance, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. “Long story short: I’m mean and I don’t deserve you.”

He cups your face with a smile so bright that his nose scrunches up adorable, “What are you on about? We were made to complete the living hell of each other.”

This prompts another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

When you realise that time’s running out, you tip-toe to press another kiss on his cheek, “For good luck. Go out there and get the trophy for me, bitch.”

The smile you give is soft and pink-cheeked, but familiar in every kind of way and for the umpteenth time, Taehyung gets the fucking air truly knocked out of his lungs. He’s a goner.

“You know,” his eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his rosy lips, “I’ll get you the moon if you asked. But you deserve so much more than just the moon, Princess.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you have almost always wanted to kiss Kim Taehyung. From the very start. And if there’s one thing that you don’t, it’s that the same boy will almost always kiss you back until you’re drowning in honey.

After Taehyung receives the trophy and lifts it high in the air for everyone to see with his teammates cheering around him, the entire ordeal almost has you in tears and you run to him, pressing kisses and bites down necks and collarbones. The ministrations don’t stop even when the two of you waltz-dance and skip all the way to his apartment, never getting enough of each other’s touches.

Taehyung’s fingers knot in your hair, controlling the kiss, his other hand finding purchase on the curve of your waist and teeth digging into the swell of your lower lip. You let out a whine that only encourages Taehyung to press against you closer and kiss you harder, in such a primal way that has heat swirling in your belly and wetness to pool between your thighs.

Your fire to him is the most peerless of lights.

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like fireworks as he removes your shirt and openly soaks in the sight of your body, how your breasts are cupped by your lacey bra and how you’re blushing fervently.

“So pretty for me. All for me.”

You don’t miss the way he growls and licks his lips, eyes hooded as he stares at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to devour. And his actions prove his ardent hunger when he grabs your chin and tilts it to the side, before attaching his lips greedily to the skin on your neck and licking a stripe over the flesh. He carries on nibbling on the sensitive part of your skin, sucking and biting in a way that is sure to leave you crying for more.

“Wow, and I thought you’d be tired after the game.”

He is already breathing heavily as he towers over you, biting back his moans, rocking his hips upwards for some needed friction.

“Can’t be tired when I’m just getting started with you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and comes crawling to hover over you within seconds as he connects his lips aggressively with your neck once more. While he continues to suck faint lilac bruises into your skin, you can’t help but jut your hips firmly against his, an instinctive reaction to feel more of him.

He groans loudly and this spurs you to give another experimental roll of your hips over his. This time he freezes and accidentally bites down on your neck a little harder than before which earns another sharp gasp from you, but this only douses the flames licking your abdomen. He leans back to apologise, but his words are lost at the tip of his tongue when you continue to grind against him shamelessly. His hands fall to your hips, nails digging firmly in place, and holds you down against his raging boner that now pokes at your inner thighs.

Thrashing in Taehyung’s grip, you sit up, hands finding the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt. Running your fingers over the buttons, you hastily tug it off him, lingering your fingers over his bare skin that you desperately want to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue and mark with your teeth as yours.

You feel his hunger swallow you whole, his gaze leaving trails of fire as they run all over your body, electrifying you all over.

“Can I eat you out?” His voice is deep, much huskier than ever, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine.

“God, why did you ever think that I would say no?”

In the briefest of moments, Taehyung tugs your shorts down with a grunt. Your eyes lock briefly, heat blooming like a stove burner, flaring up with that low flickering blue when you notice the pure, unadulterated lust in his concupiscent eyes. Fizzy warmth floods your belly, the knot of lust tightening within your abdomen.

His hands rub at your thighs, spreading them widely as he moves down the expanse of your body. There’s a raw power hidden in his hands and it’s tantalisingly arousing to feel those fingertips pressing into the meat of your thighs, wandering under you to squeeze at your ass.

Leaning in, he begins to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso, before trailing lower to your inner thighs and giving them a few kitten licks. You squirm underneath him at the intimacy, while an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the sensation of his warm breath and lips dusting across your sensitive skin. The sudden stimulation leaves you aching for his lips to be somewhere else, somewhere where it’s throbbing to be touched, to be filled.

Taehyung seems to sense exactly what you want and the next thing you know, you’re falling back onto your elbows and his nose is pressed into the cotton of your underwear. He inhales deeply and groans, eyes cloudy with lust and pleasure, relishing the unbidden scent of your arousal.

Fucking hell.

The hot of his tongue starts teasing your bud through the sheer fabric, sucking through your underwear. Timidly, you lift your lips up, seeking for friction, but Taehyung doesn’t relent, pushing you back down.

“Gotta be patient, Princess.”

When he finally, like finally, removes your soaked underwear, he dips his head between your thighs and licks a long, languid strip along your folds. This elicits a loud keen from you, hips bucking but he winds his arms under your legs and over your hips to properly restrain you. He begins slowly again, lapping up your juices like a man starved, his satisfied whimpers sending vibrations straight to your clit.

“You smell so fucking good,” he continues on to wrap his plush lips around your clit, growling against your pussy and you feel it vibrate deep in your core, “But taste even fucking better.”

Ecstasy washes over you and you cry out, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen as you writhe in his iron grasp, fingers grasping for purchase at his hair.

“Can fucking eat you out all day, want to bet?”

His teeth scrape lightly against the nub when he speaks, and your back arches at the pleasure. He continues to slurp up whatever you offer him, before giving in to your unspoken request, trailing a finger up your folds and sliding it in.

You’ve always known that Taehyung has long, slender fingers – you’ve noticed how long and pretty they are when they’re wrapped around the football, when he waves to you and when he plays with your fingers. And perhaps, you’ve thought about him doing things to you with those fingers before, but now that he has his finger in you, you cannot emphasise how otherworldly it feels. Fucking delirious.

His long digit meets no resistance, instantly enveloped in the tight, slick heat of your core as he goes in knuckle-deep and adds another finger, and it makes you feel so full that you’re losing your mind. You scream even more when he fucks you deep with both his knuckles and the flat of his hot tongue, bringing the inklings of stars behind your eyes.

His fingers continue to pump into you in a quicker succession that has you trembling and keening. Your pussy gushes at his merciless, erratic flicks and pokes at your hot spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking them in your intoxicating sweetness. Shockwaves begin to tear through you and you’re coming too hard and too fast. But Taehyung doesn’t stop and continues to suck harder to help you ride out the pleasure, the squelch of his tongue lapping at your juices filling the entire room in their entirety.

“Please, Tae, please I’m c-close. Your fingers… Fuck. Feel so good. Fuck, fuck!”

You’re dripping, leaking even by now and when he detaches away from your clit to look at you, you can see your own juices glisten on his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The throb in your core has never been more torturous.

He leans in to give your clit another chaste kiss and your hips buck up instantly into his face as he gathers the arousal onto his tongue, tasting the heavenly mix of your juices and his saliva.

“Does Princess want to taste how sweet she is? Princess likes my fingers, doesn’t she?” He purrs, coating your juices with his fingers and holding them up so you can see how they coruscate in the dim light.

Nodding hazily, you open your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to slide three of his digits in and you suck the evidence of your own bliss off his skin, enjoying your own taste and the weight and fit of his slender fingers in your mouth. Taehyung swallows in satisfaction and fervour at how dirty you look.

“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to fuck you. Going to fuck you so good you can’t walk for days.”

A spark of a fire in the very core of your being, beginning to fizzle outward at his words.

Without warning, he pounces onto you, planting kisses on your jawline and down your neck again. When you crane your neck to give him more space, he takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a bruise begins to bloom.

“So fucking beautiful, God,” he croons, threading his fingers through your hair as he groans at how hot this is.  

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust, “Want your fat cock in my fucking mouth. Please?”

Taehyung grunts loudly at your crude request, rolling his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He wants your words, this exact memory, to be burned into the very cells of his brain.

“Yeah? Princess wants my dick?”

Pushing his sweats and underwear down with swift fingers, you watch how his dick slaps hard against his stomach. It is searing red at the tip, the head thicker than the shaft, begging to be touched.

You want to fucking sit on it, suck him till you’ve milked him of all his cum. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before, not when his long fingers are wrapped around his fat cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes. Fuck, his fingers can barely wrap around his dick and that itself makes you dizzy with arousal.

“Open wide, sweetie.”

You throw yourself in front of his thighs, mouth wide, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. You can’t help but moan out loud when Taehyung slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum all over, and then on your tongue, before slowly feeding you his cock. Fuck, you feel so dirty.

Taehyung’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing in the wet heat of your mouth. You lick a long stripe with your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the very veins that have popped out.

He doesn’t believe that it’s happening. He can’t, not at how he has dreamt about this more times than he can count with both hands, and now it is actually fucking happening.

He grunts, “Dreamt about this so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to this.”

“Jerked off to what?” You tease as your fingers wrap themselves around the base of Taehyung’s dick to keep it steady, massaging his balls every now and then, as you suck noisily around the tip. Running your tongue along the side of his shaft and then back up to swirl your tongue at his slit to lick at his precum, you rejoice in the almost pained whine he lets out.

“Jerked off to you on your knees, looking pretty as fuck, while sucking my fat cock,” he smirks, without blinking an eye at the announcement of his fantasy.

Shuddering at his words, you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him every time you go down until you’re choking and your eyes are watering.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Does Princess want me to fuck her throat? Feel so full and good?”

A low groan rumbles from deep within his throat, bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

Peering up through fluttering lashes at Taehyung with your plush lips stretched wide around him, you smile at his fucked-out expression and proceed to alternate licking between his balls and his hard shaft.

When you take his cock into your mouth again, you purr at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until he’s fucked himself to the hilt of your throat, your nose buried in the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel.

“Not so snarky anymore now with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You don’t reply. The darkness in your eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Taehyung’s gut and he can’t help but buck his hips forward, sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, fucking right into your throat ruthlessly, leaving you a whimpering, writhing mess.

You don’t stop suckling with your lips, coating his length in saliva and then pull off with a little 'pop’, your hands still working at the base of Taehyung’s cock, fondling his balls.

“C-Cum,” your lips gleam in saliva and precum, “Please… Cum on my face.”

“Want me to come all over your face, doll? You’re so fucking dirty.”

Taehyung grips at his cock, stroking it a few times, before he taps his cock against your cheek again. His mind is sent in turmoil when you stick your tongue out and before he knows it, he’s ejaculating in thick spurts all over your face.

You look so fucking pretty with globs of white all over your chin and cheek and Taehyung shivers in ecstasy, a growl ready at the back of his throat, “Y-You really have no idea what you do to me.”

You lick off what he can, relishing in the taste of Taehyung as you swipe your thumb over your mouth to coat it with his cum and suck on it, while your other hand reaches behind to squeeze his ass.

“You weren’t kidding about your ass,” you whirl, slapping his ass and loving the way it jiggles.

“Yeah? It’s all yours, Princess.”

Taehyung traces the knobs on the base of your spine with his other hand, finding warm and soft skin. You let out another desperate sound against your lips, feeling a shock of electricity zip through your back down to your very core.  

Arching your back, you throw your head back and Taehyung takes this opportunity and slips his tongue in the hot wet of your mouth and licks fervently at the four corners, rougher and needier this time round.

It’s as if all at once, something connects between you two. You find it impossible to breathe properly, hands fisted in Taehyung’s locks, dizzy and lightheaded and hot all over. Taehyung’s teeth scrape over your bottom lip. It’s almost impossible to pull away, but when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together and it lands on your chest.

“Fuck, so dirty,” Taehyung’s eyes are golden, blown wide, and he smiles at you so dearly that it makes your chest gnaw. It’s the littlest of moments and softest of gasps that render you breathless. Every part of your body that Taehyung has touched feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the deep timber of his voice, almost a growl, that makes you feel like he’s melting.

“So wet for me.”

He yearns to memorize the map of your body, the trenches of the grooves on your lower back, the stars living in your eyes, the parts of your body that have you shuddering from the pleasure.

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea. Your stomach ties into a knot when he slaps his dick against your clit a few times, loving how his head is already soaked by your juices. When you search for his eyes, you see that his irises are long gone, blanketed with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Want you. Want you to fuck me with your fat cock, Tae.”

He has to bite his own flesh to suppress the feral moan threatening to drip from his swollen, red lips, “Fucking hell. Can’t believe you used to hate me. Now here you are, begging me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him enter you, his cock pushing against your walls and stretching you out so good. He eases his cock slowly until it fills you the brim, pushing against your hot walls until he can go no further.

“You’re so tight for me. Feels fucking good,” he breathes out with a hazy smile, and your eyes flutter closed.

He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn, before the wriggle of your hips urges him to move and he knows that he’s about to take you higher than ever. He lifts his lips to almost pull all the way out, the tip nestling an inch within your entrance, and without warning, slams back into your cunt, drawing a choked moan from the both of you as his length drags against your walls and hits a spot deep inside you.

Your back arches off the bed at the pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Fuck yeah, you like that princess? Going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck Taehyung. You feel so good.”

This only prompts him to repeat the movement a few more times, until he settles on pounding into you mercilessly with a precision that he flaunts on the field. He continues fucking into that same sensitive spot over and over again with no signs of slowing down, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge that has accumulated ever since the day he met you.

As his hips snap into yours, his palm remains gentle on your face, his tongue hot and assimilating your own so passionately and tenderly that it makes your heart melt. There’s just something so tangibly tender and sensual about the way he’s kissing you, while fucking you senseless, as if he wants you to know how much he wants this, how much he wants to give himself to you with each stroke.

How much love he has to devote to you.  

“Faster, faster, don’t stop, Taehyung. Fuck.”

You can feel every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock inside you, his ridges sliding against your walls and hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has got you babbling nonsense and your eyes rolled all the way up.

Screwing your eyes closed, the sparks glow brighter, and your moans heighten in pitch, while you sink your teeth into the swollen flesh of your lower lip. Above you, Taehyung learns that your mouth is sinful from the way you’re repeating curses and cries like a mantra and from the way drool is dripping down your chin. It’s just how unbelievably rough he’s fucking you, rough enough that you’re convinced there will be bruises all over your body and he’s going to rip you apart. But maybe that’s what you want, maybe that’s exactly what Taehyung intends to do to you.

“Say please.”

He then sits up and leans back to rest on his calves, before he hikes your leg up to rest over his shoulder, effectively folding you into half, and pulls you towards him roughly to fuck into you harder. You keen loudly at the new angle, how he’s able to fuck into you so much deeper, hands clawing at the sheets and dragging long, red marks on his back.

“Please, Taehyung. Please, you fuck me so fucking good.”

He smirks at how helpless you are underneath him and frees his hand from your thigh, reaching to search for yours, intertwining them tightly.

Which each thrust, the both of you grow closer to your impending orgasms, excitement curling in your abdomen along with pleasure that shoots straight to your core as Taehyung continues to pummel into your welcoming heat, strong thighs trembling against the backs of yours.

His other hand rest on your hips as his fingers squeeze and caress your skin each time you curse and whimper his name lasciviously, blending in with the symphony of skin slapping against skin, of his balls and thighs smacking against your ass that stirs the silence.

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, please. Want your hot cum in me.”

“Princess wants to be my personal cum-dumpster, doesn’t she?”  

Taehyung dips his head over your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking it lavishly as if the taste of you is suddenly too much to bear. You wail in pleasure, back arched all the way up, the grip on his hand tightening as your hips rise to meet the brutal thrusts of his hips, pleasure shooting white hot to join the heated desire in your core.

That’s all you need to lurch over the edge. The coil within your core suddenly snaps with the tension and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot pleasure, curling and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around him one last time, galaxies firing in the murky red of your eyelids as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You know Taehyung’s close too – now faster, more erratic, as he chases his release relentlessly. For a moment, all you can see is glorious light, blinding your vision until it consumes you whole and you’re shaking ferociously.  

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Taehyung comes hard with a harsh shudder and an animalistic growl from between his clenched teeth, thrumming at his warm seed inside you. He isn’t done with you yet though. When he pulls out, the emptying sensation of his cock being drawn out of your walls gives rise to another wail from you, but you forget all over it when he rubs the swollen tip of his dick against your clit in a circular movement, playing to its sensitivity and pushing in his cum inside you again. His personal cum-dumpster.

Taehyung kisses you once more just because he can, and then lets his eyes run over the girl in front of him and his mind goes blank because wow, that actually happened – and it certainly did, evident from the mussed hair, blown hazy pupils, lovebites all over flustered skin and the soft, dreamy smile belonging to a pair of swollen-red lips.

This, Taehyung registers despite the giddy turbulence in his mind, is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. So unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that he can feel something in his chest splinter.

There’s a passing second of staring at each other, your cheek deep in the pillow, his head lulled against the headboard.

Taehyung lets out a chuckle, airy and filled with a rasp of post-sleep that would never come. He moves slowly, creaking the mattress in droning successions as he slips his arm around your waist, dusting little kisses on your nose before bringing up your hand to his lips. You realise that he likes doing that.

He stares at you for a long while, thumb over the back of your hand in tandem with the flick of his eyes, back and forth, between yours.

Even in the dark, Taehyung’s lovely flush is brilliant, otherworldly effervescent.  

“You know when you said those things to Yoongi, I knew you said it out of a fit, but I couldn’t help but be upset about it.”

“Tae—”

His lips quirk upward on the edges into something knowing, “Then I realised that this was the first time I was genuinely upset about someone’s opinion about me. I usually don’t care what people think of me. I mean I don’t live to impress them, so this made me realised that I actually care a lot about what you think about me. About how you feel about me, whether I’m just a dumb fuckboy to you or whether you see the real me.”

He presses another kiss to your knuckles and your entire body tingles with warmth, “Then it hit me. That you know, maybe I really, really do have feelings for you and I want you to like me too. Like for real. I know I said that I don’t have the time and energy to deal with feelings. But you… You drive me insane. I used to be cynical about being so vulnerable for someone, and it’s so scary how much you can yearn for someone’s attention and affection. It’s just crazy – the things you do to me.”

As his words spill into the spaces between you, you simmer in the comfortable silence, ignoring the sharp tugs at your heartstrings.

“Never thought I’d live to see this day,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your forehead with an earnestness that heightens the tugs at your heartstrings.

“Talk about character development,” you joke, burying your face in his chest and finding solace in the warmth of the sweet honey gold that he possesses. His hand on your waist begins caressing the small of your back, bringing you closer to him, until his nose is settled in the crook of your neck.

“Looks like my YOLO-ing did me some good,” he whispers into your ear and there’s a resplendent lilt to his voice.

It takes you a while for you to realise that he’s referring to the fake quote you’ve assigned to him.

Taehyung smiles at your deadpan expression and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is pulled into a rectangle and his eyes are curved into crescents. You realise this a long time ago, but you will finally admit to it now – Taehyung is beautiful. He is so beautiful that he could rearrange continent with that smile of his.

When he laughs and the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown, that’s when you know that you’re struck with a love the size of the entire galaxy for him. To hell with your past hatred and feud with him, you’re just grateful to have your entire universe lying right beside you, right in this moment, under the burning light of the great, yellow moon that hangs heavy and radiant above the two of you.

that’s it. that’s the mammoth i’ve been brewing over the past few months (and rushing it like mad over the past two weeks)! i wanted to depict tae as accurately as possible so i made sure to include the little tiny details and quirks of his ;; did you know that he was the one who coined the term bread cheeks??? there’s a video of him comparing his cheeks to bread buns and i think that started the entire trend i’m just. i never want tae to be sad he has the purest and biggest heart

thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ i love receiving asks and messages tho sometimes ;; i just disappear from the face of the earth. i literally post a fic every 6 months sobs but next up sugarplum elegy (and i promise i won’t take another 6 months, my aim to upload it is end june!) love you guys  much and remember to take care of yourself – i believe in your galaxy ☁️💫💜💞🌃✨

[the-l-spacer]

Summary: Lloyd Allen is sick and alone at his house. This is unacceptable.

Written for Day 7 of Shaperaverse week, for the prompt ‘Family, Home’ - and is a continuation of the theatre kids au in chapter 1! I had a blast writing for this event. Thank you for reading!!

- 

Lloyd Allen is sick. Like, sick sick. Not the sort where he gets a runny nose and maybe a hoarse throat that clears up in a day.

No, this is the everything-at-once, Chernobyl-nuclear-fucking-meltdown-anthropomorphised kind of sick. He’s hot (and not in the good way that, as Kelis once put it, brings all the boys to the yard). His throat feels like someone attempted to make him swallow hot control rods (to continue the Chernobyl metaphor). About every facial orifice is leaking steadily. Looking at himself in the mirror is an experience akin to staring at the Elephant’s Foot.

To put it sparingly, he feels like shit.

And, he laments, lying on his side on the living room couch, today is the absolute worst day to fall sick.

Through half open eyes, he gazes at the clock hung on the wall, — an old-fashioned thing circled with Roman numerals, because everything about his dad is old fashioned, a trait that passed from father to son — ticking steadily to 10am, when rehearsal is slated to start.

He briefly considers pushing himself off the couch, wrapping himself in a warm coat, and going anyways. After all, they’re just starting to rehearse Janissary in earnest, having almost memorized the scripts and choreography and blocking, and it physically pains him to be absent just when the real work is about to begin.

On the other hand, he can’t have the entire cast be bedridden because of him.

Mulling over his choices, he doesn’t remember when exactly he blacked out, only to be woken up again by the vibrating of his phone on the floor next to him.

Groaning, he reaches out his hand to answer it, and the very action feels like moving through slow, thick honey. He manages, but by the time he brings the phone to his face, the call ends.

The too-bright display tells him he missed a call from Asha.

A slight smile crosses his face. Of course she’d be the first to call him.

He dials back, and she picks up right away. “Lloyd?” Her voice is high and hurried. “Thank goodness you picked up. Me and the others are so worried. Are you all right?”

Try to sound like nothing’s wrong. “I’m fi-achOO!”

Well, so much for that.

“Oh Lloyd, you’re sick?”

“That- that much is obvious, Asha.” He forces the words out through a stuck throat, and is too busy cringing as sneeze-gunk runs down his face (gross) to regret his curt tone.

She sucks in a breath. “Sorry, sorry, god I’m such an asshole. Is it a fever?”

He wants to tell her that the asshole is him, that she shouldn’t waste her breath on someone as ungrateful as he, but all he manages is a short, “Yeah.”

“And from the sound of it, a sore throat and a stuffy nose as well. Do you have a glass of water somewhere nearby? Do you feel well enough to see the doctor?”

“No, and… no.”

“Lloyd- “

“Sorry.”

“- stop- stop hating yourself for one second. I was going to say I can come over right now, if you want me to.”

That’s enough to snap him awake. “NO!” He pauses, wiping his nose. “No. Continue rehearsing, take over for me. I want everyone’s lines fully memorized by next week.”

Now it’s Asha’s turn to be the naysayer of the conversation. He listens, with some grim satisfaction, as she splutters on the phone. “M-me? You want me to be- bu-“

“I’m sick, remember?” He coughs once, for emphasis. “You have to do what I say.”

���Alright, alright. I’ll do my best, and I’ll let the others know you can’t make it. In the meantime, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yyyyes?”

“And you’re sure you’re getting enough water? Did you take a panadol? I could get some soup delivered to you-“

The rest of the conversation passes in a blurry haze. He vaguely remembers telling Asha to very much not waste precious rehearsal time by ordering food for him, and was it a fever-induced hallucination, or did he tell David to take over as narrator? Did he comfort the fraught third year until he no longer could, Asha finally stepping in to tell him to rest?

Well that he can certainly do. As Asha says something about sleeping in a cold place, he is already drifting off on the couch. He watches the (decidedly not cold) living room’s ceiling fan turn lazy circles, he murmurs a half-conscious ‘I love you’ to Asha, and he finally surrenders to unconsciousness.

- 

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

“Lloyd? Are you there?”

What….

Lloyd stirs, and immediately regrets doing so. His hair sticks to the nape of his neck, and a layer of awful post-nap sweat coats his skin. Yet, despite the warm, stuffy air, he’s shivering, curling into himself, trying to figure out if the knocks on the door are figments of his fevered imagination.

“I think he’s still asleep.” The voices he hears are muffled, but definitely there. Is that David?

“Nothing else for it, we gotta pick the lock. I can use my hairpin.”

“Jill, NO!” His ears pick up Asha’s shrill soprano.

Michael’s telltale drawl comes next. “Doesn’t Lloyd keep a key outside the house somewhere? Was it the doormat, or the flowerpot…”

Lloyd’s eyes drift closed once again, until…

“LLOYD!!!” Two blurs bound toward him, but are quickly yanked back.

“Don’t crowd him! He’s way too warm as is.”

Lloyd rasps, “Asha... ? And Jill and Michael a.. And David? What are you all doing here?”

He feels himself being lifted, bridal style, and pressed against a sturdy chest, can feel the vibrations as Michael speaks. “We’re here’ta take care of our favourite stage manager, of course!”

“But.. you.. Rehearsals?”

“Done and dusted,” David says, hovering behind Michael as he carries Lloyd into the bedroom, depositing him gently on his soft mattress. “It went… not terribly, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Pfft, Davey here’s bein’ waaay too modest. As you predicted, he makes a pre-tty awesome narrator.”

David opens his mouth to protest, but Michael shushes him. “Go, set up the Switch so our boy Lloyd has somethin’ to entertain himself with once he’s feelin’ better.”

The obliging theatre techie in David wins out over his self-deprecating side, and he obediently trots off, leaving Michael in the room with a rather overwhelmed Lloyd.

“Don’t lie,” Lloyd begins, “was he really…”

“Yes.” Michael fishes out a thermometer from his backpack and takes Lloyd’s temperature. “Woof, 38 degrees. You’re burnin’ up. Aaanyways, David’s a little nervous, sure, I’ll let Asha fill you in on all the specific details, but he’s got potential. A loootta potential.”

Lloyd lets out a breath. “Good.”

“Now less talkin’, more tryna’ get better soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lloyd gives a small nod.

The other boy pats his arm, and leaves Lloyd, giving room for Jill to breeze in, pushing cups of honey lemon and hot herbal tea and instructing him to drink, opening the windows to let the cool spring air in, and twining small flowers around his shelves and bedposts, before finally pulling his rolling study chair over to his bedside.

“Asha’s in overdrive,” she says conspiratorially, “been freaking out ever since the call. She tried to hide it, obviously, but we could tell. She’s, like, super worried about you, so real talk. Are you okay?”

The chamomile tea warms his throat as he drinks, and he finds his voice flowing freer than before. “I’m all right, really. Some irresponsible delinquent in my lit class came in with a flu, which no doubt passed on to me.”

“But you’ve never been sick before, at least, you haven’t been like the entire time we’ve known you!”

“When my immune system is down, it’s down, I suppose.”

Jill’s face pulls in a sympathetic pout. “Oof, that’s rough. Least it’s not anything serious. If it was something serious, you’d tell us, right?”

Lloyd must have paused too long, because Jill leans forward with sudden seriousness, necklaces adorned with tiny silver trinkets dangling in front of his face. “We care about you. I know Michael and I like to give you grief, but we really do. We’ve been friends for years now, and if something happened, it’d be like I lost my- my brother or something!”

His face heats. “Jill… I... of course. Of course I’d tell you. I care for you all greatly as well, even if I don’t show it.” His hand finds Jill’s. “Thank you, for saying that.”

She gives his hand a squeeze. “Just saying what we’re all thinking. I’m gonna go play Smash with Michael and David. You,” she stands up, tapping his shoulder lightly, “rest.”

“I will.”

She leaves Lloyd, a little confused at the interaction, though all that falls away when Asha enters the room, a bowl of hot ginseng chicken broth in hand.

“I’m sorry for being so curt on the phone, just now,” he blurts out.

Asha waves his apology off. “Water under the bridge. Eat up.”

Time passes, Lloyd savouring spoonfuls of soup as Asha sponges him with cold water, giving him a play-by-play of their rehearsal. The details remain hazy in his mind, though Lloyd does chuckle when his friend tells him of David forgetting he was so far downstage that he almost missed his cue and fell right off the raised platform, saved only when Michael yanked him backwards.

“That.. certainly explains why his shirt is hanging off of him a little looser than before.” Lloyd remarks.

Asha sweeps the finished bowl of soup from his grasp, replacing it with a glass of water and a Panadol. “Interesting that even with a fever, you notice how David’s shirt fits on him.”

It’s lucky that Lloyd only has the glass raised to his lips, else he would have done a spit-take. “Wh- what?!?? Who said anything about me staring at David’s shirt?! It’s just a- a casual observation, anyone would notice it!”

Asha grins. “Naturally, naturally.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Nothing!” She says breezily.

Lloyd stares at Asha, currently sending a text on her phone to someone. From the living room outside, he hears Jill snort.

Ordinarily, he would press, but as is, his information-overloaded brain begins to shut down once again.

“Sure,” he says finally.

Asha looks at him with surprise. “That it? You’re letting me off that easy?”

“ ‘m tired,” he simply says, sinking lower into his sheets. “I’ll ask again if I remember.”

Asha busies herself switching on the AC, drawing the curtains so they don’t let in the late afternoon sun. “Sleep, and properly this time, okay? We’ll be waiting outside for you once you wake up.”

“M’kay.” His eyes are already half-closed, watching Asha hover in the doorway.

“I love you, Lloyd.”

I really did say that on the phone, huh. 

Nothing else for it, then. “Love you too.”

- 

When Lloyd wakes, his senses come alive one at a time. He feels better than he did in the morning, the medicine doing its work so he’s no longer covered in a cold sweat. His nose is no longer stuffy, and the room’s cool air is permeated with the faint scent of chrysanthemum.

He sits up. It’s properly dark, now, and he can hear faint voices outside.

Gingerly, Lloyd pads out of his room, peeks around the entrance to the living room, and sees his friends, crammed together on the couch, whisper-screaming as Princess Peach beat the shit out of Link on the TV screen.

It’s hard to tell who it was who notices him standing in the shadows first, but it’s David who says, “Guys, Lloyd’s up!”, followed by a responding chorus of cheers from his friends.

His friends.

Is it his fever, or is the warmth he feels rushing through him as they make room on the couch coming from someplace else entirely?

Is him resting his head on David’s shoulder a result of fatigue, or… something else?

And is David tilting his head so it rests on his in turn coming from the same place too?

Later, they sit at the kitchen table, eating soupy noodles ordered in by Michael, and Lloyd wonders if it's the hunger from his previously light meals, or if the food, eaten as he sits surrounded by his friends, is the best he’s ever had?

Is it the thinking of his sickness-muddled mind, or is his house, filled with inane chatter and loud, boisterous laughter, so unlike the cold, quiet days spent with his father, more like a home to him than it ever was before?

And is it his imagination, or is this small group of theatre nerds truly his family? Family he never had, family that disappeared when his mother left?

Even after his father does return, frowning at the mess and noise, and his friends sheepishly clear the takeout boxes and unplug the switch and wash the dirty plates and cups, finally bidding him forlorn goodbyes and get-well-soons, the thoughts don’t go away.

Lloyd pops another pill and heads back to bed, sending a short ‘thank you’ in the main cast and crew group chat, switching off his phone as he sees the wall of responding texts and stickers flooding in.

He settles his sheets back around him, catches sight of evidence that the afternoon and evening truly happened - flowers adding a splash of colour to the space, a scribbled ‘gws’ post-it from David on his bedside table.

Lloyd Allen goes back to sleep with a small smile. After all, the sooner he gets better, the sooner he can return to the theatre. The sooner he can see his family. The sooner he can come home.

[dalamjisung]

picture it ❊ kim taehyung

word count: 4905

genre: fluff

pairing: reader x kim taehyung

description: he could practically picture your future together... and you could write it.

You write about him everyday. 

Not in a creepy way, though, but in a very separated, utopian way. Idealized, if you must. The problem isn’t you, and you are sure it also isn’t him, but the conditions– the situation. Every morning, before class, and surely before work, you head to the same small coffee shop, where your best friend works and where you have an honorary table, right in the left corner, next to the big window; this way you can both do your work and get distracted as people run by you without even noticing. 

You think it is about four months after your friend started that he began showing up, first as a client, then as a barista. His ascend to fame followed quickly after; the cute guy that made the disastrous latter art. You think that’s what started this thing of yours– the writing; the moment he gave you your latte, boxy smile in place, and something that resembled a dying cat on top of your coffee. You chuckle, captivated by the pride shinning in his eyes. You write about that moment, later. 

“First coffee that I didn’t spill,” He says, looking a bit embarrassed still. 

“Congratulations,” You tell him, and it’s sincere. He should be proud of his work, even though you are now rethinking if it ever was a dying cat or if it’s just a very deformed smiley face. 

You sit on your usual table and pull out your books, ready to start studying for the upcoming biology test.  But then you hear it– a symphony of crashing ceramic and startled screams coming from the back. His laugh covers the noise as best as it can, but what’s done is done, and the very next day the boy is demoted back to his position as a mere customer. 

He stands in front of you, ordering his coffee, while struggling to hold all of his materials– paint, camera, computer. The heavy objects weight him down enough that he can’t really move a finger to reach for his waller, or else everything would come crashing down, much like the day before. 

“Just… just a s-second,” He says grunting with tired arms. “I can’t–“

“I’ll pay for him,” You smile at your friend, giving her your card. “And my usual, please.”

“Gotcha,” She winks and quickly moves, getting better and better at her job by the day. 

“Thank you,” He sighs, now using a knee to help with the wright of his things, but struggling with balance. “I just… argh!”

His camera slips and you catch it just as it is about to shatter on the floor. 

“Why don’t you go and put your things down on a table?” You say, laughing a bit. “I’ll take your coffee to you.”

“Uh… about that,” He smiles again, that same boxy smile as before. “There are no tables available.”

You look around, only now noticing how full the place is. “My table is right there,” You point to your backpack. “We can share, if that’s okay with you.”

“Thanks, Y/N!” He exclaims, and you are surprised that he knows your name. “Thanks a lot!”

When you take the beverages to the table, you’ve had enough time to build up courage. “So… how’d you know my name?”

“Your friend,” He points to the counter, without raising his eyes from his computer. “Talks about you all the time. Pointed you out to me once and told me exactly how you like your coffee.”

“Ah, I see,” You nod. “And what is your name, then?”

“Ah! Sorry,” He scratches his head. “My name is Kim Taehyung. I’m in the Visual Arts department.”

“That’s why I’ve never seen you around before,” You say. “I’m in the Biology department.”

“Biology?” He frowns. “I thought you were in the Literature department… you are always writing something on your computer, or reading a new book.”

You raise your brows.

“And how would you know that?”

“I notice you,” He says with not even an ounce of shame. “You come here everyday. So do I. It’s only natural.”

“Of course,” You chuckle, opening your book. “Only natural.”

                                                              ——————————

After that small interaction, given that you two didn’t talk for the rest of the day while sharing a table, it is almost like Taehyung is suddenly everywhere. So of course, it is only nature, following his train of thought, that you’d start noticing him, too.

In the bowling alley, giving people their shoes, and then a month later with his friends renting a lane.

Then the bistro nearby campus, busting tables, and then a couple of weeks later on a date with a girl.

The bookstore close to your dorm is the place place you see him working, and you think it lasts a few months, since the opportunities for weird and extreme incidents are minimum. You first find out when you have to get a new textbook for your anatomy class, and as always, the professor put some on reserve, at the bookstore. 

“You again.”

You look at him, behind the counter with his black rimmed glasses and boxy smile. His hair is longer now, even darker, and the ends that meet his cheeks and neck curve upwards. You don’t even try to deny his attractiveness, but there is something about Kim Taehyung that intrigues you more than draws you to him– maybe the clumsiness, or the boxy smile, or even the alienated personality; you are not sure, but you are willing to find out. 

“Me again,” You smile wide. “You work here now?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles. “After getting fired from the coffee shop, the bowling alley, and the bistro, this was pretty much the only place that would take me in. All I have to do is stand behind the counter and put the money in the register… easy enough.”

“Well, can you also help me find a book I need for class?”

“Sure,” He nods. “Biology, right?”

“Ah, you remember,” You tease.

“Hard to forget when you are everywhere,” He rolls his eyes. “Human Anatomy?”

“Yes,” You look at his computer screen, making sure it is the right one. “That one.”

“Be right back.” 

Taehyung disappears in the back and you hear a few thumps here and there, and maybe even a pained moan, but you let it slide. It is better to have books falling on him than sharp shreds of glass, you think, but why do you care? 

“Here you go, Y/N,” He sighs, hair messy and, surprisingly, no smile. “That’ll be $67– $67?! Holy shit! That’s so expensive! Wah… no fucking way!”

And there he is… Kim Taehyung in the flesh. 

“Unfortunately textbooks are always around that price,” You groan, pulling your debit card out of your wallet. “Here you go. Take my money.”

“Now I feel bad about this…” He pouts, but charges you nonetheless. “They told me to always thanks the costumer after a sale, but wow, I don’t think I can thank you for this… I feel like I just personally bankrupted you.”

“Nah, don’t worry,” You wink, grabbing your stuff. “This textbook just means that I’ll have to cut down on the coffee for a week or so. I’ll be okay.”

Just as you are turning around to leave, he calls you back.

“Or!” He shouts, and instantly blushes as your wide eyes meet his. “Or… or, you know, I could… I c-could buy you coffee. If that’s okay with you. And you want it. Coffee, I mean.”

“Coffee,” You echo, holding in your laughter. “Sure. I’d love coffee.”

“Awesome!” Boxy smile is back. “Tomorrow, then? Let’s say around 10AM?”

“Perfect,” You wave. “See you then, Taehyung.”

“Call me Tae!”

With that, you go home happy and giggly. You were getting coffee tomorrow, and you’re writing today.

                                                             ——————————

“This is not charity, Miss,” He teases, before giving the drink over to you. Looming the cup in front of you, close enough that you could smell it, he continues. “I want a favor, actually.”

“And here I thought this was out of your pure and innocent heart,” You sigh, joking along with him. “Do tell, Mister, what could a humble peasant like me offer you?”

Trying to hide his smile, Taehyung sips his drink, eyes locked on yours, and you have to cross your legs, a but uncomfortable with how quickly your body reacted under his hungry eyes. 

“In case you haven’t figured out yet,” Tae says and leans forward, holding his face with his elbows on his knees. “I’m a photographer. And every photographer needs a… muse. I want you to be mine.”

Choking slightly on your drink, you look at him, alarmed. “Muse? You want me as a model?”

“Please, Y/N,” Every single ounce of his sexy, mysterious façade is gone and he pouts, lips jutting forward in the cutest way possible. Makes you want to kiss them. “I desperately need a model for my portfolio, and I’m running out of time. I don’t have the money to hire a professional model, even though I tried to get it with the jobs and all, but… it’s impossible; I’m useless and got fired from all of them.”

You notice a bit of anger in his voice and tension on his shoulders and you can’t help but wonder what this happy, giddy boy hides behind laughter and playful remarks. 

“Okay,” You nod, breathless with impulsivity. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’m sorry if I suck, though, but I’ll do my best to help.”

“Really?!” He smiles to wide that you just have to smile, too. “Oh my god, thank you so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it! Coffee on me, anytime you want it during a photoshoot, okay? Anytime!”

“Sounds perfect,” You say and point at his phone. “Would you mind if I gave you my number? I think that would be the easiest way for us to schedule everything.”

“Oh, y-yeah,” He also grabs your phone. “G-good idea.”

It is settled, then. You would model for Taehyung, and he would repay you with coffee, even though later you tried to make him give up on that idea, uncomfortable to have him paying for your coffee when you can do it yourself. 

“No way,” He shakes his head and as fluffy as his hair is, it doesn’t distract you from what’s important at the moment. “I’d feel terrible having you do it for free, so the least I can do it feed your caffeine addiction.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” You deadpan, stopping in front of your dorm. “Anyways, thanks for walking me back… It got pretty dark, are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Yeah, I live just a couple of blocks from here,” He looks tired; eyes sunken, with dark circle underneath them. He still looks beautiful, though. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Please do,” You wave. “Be safe!”

“Yes, mom!”

Going inside, you rethink your decision; maybe this isn’t right for you. Modeling? You have no experience, or comfort, for that matter, in front of a camera. Usually you are the one in the backstage of everything, hiding behind a computer and a username so that you can post your stories online. What if you suck at it? What if because of you his portfolio ends up incomplete and improper? Modeling is a career and you are just not fit for it… but it’s a deal. You’ll have to pull through, and you only have one shot at it– so you better give it your all.

You ignore your roommate in the kitchen, and run straight to your room, calling the only person you can think of to help you in this desperate situation. 

“Mom,” You breath out, glad that she picked up. From the looks of it, she had just gotten home from work, her face still covered in professional makeup. “I need your help.”

“Hi, my love,” She smiles and you just love how different this smile looks from the ones you see in the magazines. “What’s up?”

You explain everything; from how you met Taehyung, to how you started talking, to how you ended up agreeing to be his model. Her happiness is visible, and you are sure she is extremely excited about you trying out her profession. 

“Ah, I like this boy, already,” She jokes. “He sees just how beautiful you are; like a model!” “I’m not you mom,” You sigh. “I’m not an international supermodel that is natural and cheerful and good at modeling.”

“But I can teach you a few things so that the camera doesn’t scare you,” She explains. “It scares me, too, baby. It’s not that easy…”

“I know, I know,” Taking a deep breath, you focus. “Teach me what I need to know.”

For hours, you work with your mom on posing, and relaxing, and focusing. She tells you about different photo feelings, and different lightening, and how the right tilt of your head, or look in your eyes is enough to dictate the mood of the picture. 

“It’s getting late, Y/N,” Your mom yawns. “You should rest. I’m sure you’ll do great when it’s time.”

“Thanks mom,” You smile, eyes dropping with tiredness. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” And then she hangs up.

I can do this. I can help him. 

                                                             ——————————

It is around a week later that he calls you, in the morning, on a Saturday. 

“Hey!” You groan in response. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Photoshoot!” He practically shouts in your ear. “Now! The sun is perfect and we’ll get an amazing natural light.”

“Tae, why didn’t you text me about this yesterday?!” You cry out, running to your closet in look of anything decent to wear. “I just woke up! I look like a zombie!”

“You look beautiful all the time,” He chuckles. “Now get dressed and come down; and don’t worry about hair and makeup, my friend will help us with that.”

You are not sure what he means with that but follows his instructions nonetheless. In five minutes, you are downstairs in sweatpants and ponytail, ready to face what you are sure will be your biggest challenge so far. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung is excited when he spots you; waving frantically and smiling wide. “Right here!”

Next to him there are two guys. 

“These are my friends,” He introduces. “Jin-hyung and Jimin-ah!”

You feel a bit intimidated now, staring next to three incredibly handsome men and literally looking like you just rolled out of bed. 

“Nice to meet you,” You try out, smiling shyly. “I’m Y/N.”

“Wah,” Jin sighs, looking you up and down. “She really is just like you said, Taehyung-ah… beautiful. I am confident that I chose the right outfits for you.”

You blush. 

“Ignore him,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “Hyung is a huge flirt. I’ll be in charge of makeup, by the way. I can run some ideas by you, if you’d like.”

You four talk all the way to the park, where Tae wanted to start the day– after some coffee, of course. You get dressed in the public bathroom nearby and your makeup is quick and natural. As Jin sets everything up and Jimin tries to find some flowers for your hair, you pull Taehyung aside.

“Why me?!” You whisper, panic in your eyes. “Tae, look at your friends! They were born models!”

“Them?” He frowns. “Yeah, they’re pretty. But you’re different.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’ve observed you for months, Y/N,” He chuckles, cheeks getting redder by the second. “Trust me when I say you are exactly what I need.”

“Tae–“

“Let’s go!” Jimin shouts. “Everything is ready.”

It’s time. You take a deep breath, and close your eyes, thinking about all the tips and lessons your mom gave you for the past week; mood, pose, focus. You can do this. You have to do this.

“Let’s give it a try,” You sigh. “If I do anything wrong, let me know.”

Taehyung just winks at you, and the shoot starts. More than just guiding you, his voice starts to calm you done; the low baritone of his natural tone starting to sooth your insides, and not log after you notice you are actually having fun with them. They ask you to do ridiculous poses and you follow, laughing as you can’t keep your balance, or as Jin makes another dad joke. For a second, you forget that Taehyung is behind a camera, capturing your every move, and you think that he is right next to you; hand in yours, smiling and giggling with you. You break away from your daydream soon enough, trying to memorize it all to heart– you just have to write about this after. Actually, you are pretty sure you have, and all that happiness before seeps away as you recall your words. You can just picture it…

Big hands meet small ones, swallowing them, protecting them. There is more to the boy than his hands, but these are the only thing she can feel, the only thing she can touch– they scream for reality, proving something she’s been looking for for months… sanity. He grounds her, and she allows him to fly. Seems fair.

This was the last thing you wrote about him, and you wonder why; why did you start? Continue? Would it end? Would you one day stop?

What hurts the most is not knowing that one day he’ll simply be a fictional character in your portfolio; what hurts the most is knowing that everything you wrote feels true. As you got to know Taehyung, you’ve learned that your character Taehyung and the real Taehyung are incredibly similar… but you can only have one.

“Let’s take a break!”

Jimin is the first one to disappear, talking to himself about ice cream or something of the sort. Jin is next, when he spots a group of girls by the pond looking and giggling at him. Tae, however, stays; and walks to where you sit, playing with the hem of your long dress. 

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?” You mumble, feeling tired and, now, discouraged. “Did I mess up?”

“No,” He chuckles. “You are doing great, and acting borderline professionally, but then you just… got sad.”

You freeze. “I don’t–”

“Do you know why I thought you were perfect for this project?” You shake your head. “You wear your emotions on your face, Y/N. It’s been like that since I first saw you… you looked calm and relaxed and I could practically feel it, too. You are an open book, to me, at least, and I can ready you so, so easily. I wasn’t looking for shallow beauty; I was looking for emotion. Raw. And you are it.”

“Taehyung,” You gasp. “That’s–“

“What happened?” He asks again, this time turning to face you. “Why are you sad?”

“I write about you.” 

It comes out like a confession and you suddenly feel guilty. 

“I am taking a creative writing class and it was right when you started working at the cafe,” You hide your face in your hands. “And I saw you and you looked so happy, and so unique, and something about you just seemed surreal. So I started using you as a physical model. But then I got to know you, and oh god, Taehyung, stop laughing!”

You are stunned by the choked sound you hear coming from him and when you notice him trying to hold his laughter in, you whine, hitting him in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” He raises his hands, openly laughing now, and trying to stop you from hitting him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but… I kind of knew.”

“What?” You shriek, distancing yourself away from him almost as if touching him burns your skin. “How?”

“Your friend told me,” He admits sheepishly. “I had to press her for it, though, so please don’t be angry at her…”

“Press her?”

“I noticed that every time you were writing you kept looking at me,” He shrugs, with his stupid smug smile on his face. “So I had a guess. She just confirmed it for me.”

“This is so embarrassing,” You whine, getting up. “I should probably go, if we’re done here, right? Right… are we done here?”

This time, he is the one that whines. “You promised I’d get to buy you coffee! Let’s go get coffee!”

“Taehyung,” You sigh. “I am mortified right now. I think I need–“

“Coffee,” He insists. “You just need coffee. What’s so wrong about writing about me, anyways? I felt pretty good, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” You deadpan. “I’m sure you did.”

                                                             ——————————

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You look at the boy sitting in front of you and you frown a bit. 

“Well, you did promise me coffee,” You joke, but something in his eyes tell you that there is more to what he means. “What’s up with you, now? Don’t act all smug about it, I know there is something bothering you.”

“How?”

“Eyes,” You point at your and the his. “Your look sad. You say I wear my emotions on my face, well, you wear yours on your eyes. ‘Fess up, kiddo. What’s going on?”

“My parents think I suck,” He groans, forehead hitting the table. “At photography, I mean. They are farmers and they don’t really understand why I would study something so risky. I understand their worries, but it sucks. I just needed their support, right now…”

“Why right now?”

“I’m on a scholarship,” He sighs, finally moving to look at you. “And my final portfolio will determine if the school will offer me the scholarship again next year or if it goes to someone else.”

You almost spit your coffee all over his pretty face.

“Taehyung!” You chastise him, frowning. “You should’ve hired a professional model!”

“I told you a tried!” He defends himself, throwing his head back in frustration. “Not that you didn’t do amazing today, by the way. You should totally start charging after this.”

“I don’t think I’ll follow this line of work,” You winced. “Too tiring. My mom is a model and she is always working late.”

“Who’s your mom?” He asks.

“Y/M/N Y/L/N,” You smile, proud. “I called her for tips on how to model. She was really happy I was doing this.”

“Ah, I see,” He chuckles. “You actually look a lot like her.”

“I do?” You are surprised, to say the least. 

“Definitely,” He winks. “Beautiful, too.”

You roll your eyes, but that is not enough to hide the blush blooming in your cheeks. 

“Focus on you,” You say, looking at his sigh. “Do you think you have a chance?”

“After what I saw today?” He breaths out, smile back. “Totally. There’s only one part missing, anyways. We got most of it today.”

“Which part?” 

“Self-portrait,” He gulps. “And I have no fucking clue how I will do this.”

“What do you mean? That should be the easiest part!”

“No, it’s always the hardest for me,” His eyes are intense on yours. “I have too many people talking in my ear… Taehyung-ie this, Taehyung-ie that, such a smart boy, making such stupid choices. Ugh! I have no clue what to do because I think I have no real clue about who I think I am.”

Well, this took a turn. You aren’t expecting him to be so open, so real, but he is and you feel it– the butterflies in your stomach. You know you’re done for when he looks at you and you have to look away. Goddammit Y/N, you think. Why’d you have to start liking him now?

“Everyone that told me their opinions of me are incredibly biased,” He squints at you, almost as if he is deep in thought. “But you know who isn’t?”

You just shrug.

“You.”

“No.”

You know what he’s about to ask you. Or at least you have a hint, and you don’t think you’d ever be able to face him if you did.

“Y/N, please!” He whines. “I’m begging you! You wrote them before you got to know me, so I’m sure that will be the most honest opinion of myself I’ll ever get.”

“It’s called self-reflection, Tae,” You chuckle. “Not Y/N-reflection. You have to figure out for yourself, love.”

“But you can help me,” He whispers, and for a second everything stops; his eyes, so lost and desperate, find yours and nothing but him seems to exist. Here is this man– this beautiful man– asking for your help to find himself. “Please Y/N… help me.”

You let your head fall on the table with a soft thud.

“When you put it like that it makes it hard to say no,” You mumble.

“That’s the point,” He laughs, and when you raise your head he’s already walking to the door. “Let’s go to your dorm.”

                                                            ——————————

You pace around nervously, bitting your finger nails as Taehyung is sitting on your bed, laptop in his lap. It takes him a long time– or at least you think it does,– but when he’s finished, he has a glint in his eyes, something that looks like… is he crying?

“Tae…” You call softly. “Are you okay?”

“I just,” He sighs, rubbing his eyes and chuckling to himself. “I just never heard things like these being said about me.”

“Tae, I didn’t know you back then,” You try to explain, afraid to have hurt the sensible man. “Right now, I think you are so much more.”

“More?” He asks, and now you know what shines in his eyes. “I can be more?”

Hope.

“You can be so much more, Kim Taehyung,” You move to sit next to him, legs touching and shoulders bumping. “You can be anything you want.”

“Y/N,” He whispers, and his voice sounds strangled, contained, somehow. “Y/N, thank you.”

“For what?” His hand finds yours and you hold your breath as it swallows yours. Your mind wonders to the words on your computer and you force yourself back to reality.

“For giving me space,” His fingers dance on your palm, caressing your skin as if it is the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “For giving me hope. I’ve never felt this free before, and it’s all because of you.”

“Taehyung,” You smile, pulling him by the hand to look at you. “You’ve always been free. You just needed a push to fly.”

Nodding, your heads start to get closer and closer. With his hand in yours, warm and firm, he pulls you to him, lips finding yours with an unexpected hunger; a need beyond imagination. Beyond words. When the kiss deepens, you two are a mess of emotions; your body lays down and his follow suit, covering you and weighting you down, and you loved it. You could feel his presence, now; this is different then writing about him, then picturing him– this is real. This is warm, and desperate, and hungry, and caring. This is love at its rawest form. 

This is us. 

As his lips descend to your neck, you smile. Fingers in his hair and neck pull him back to you, mouth hot on yours, and you two talk without words; you see without pictures. It’s something that only you two understand, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Both of you are free.

Falling asleep comes easily after you two settle down, whispering secrets and wishes to each other, arms and legs tangled like vines. He tells you about his family and his grandmother, and how, one day, he wants to be a professional photographer, one that tells stories of feelings and emotions and places and people. In return, he learns about your passion for writing, and how unlike him, you gave into your parents pressure and decided to study biology instead, hoping to one day be a researcher. 

“It’s a form of writing,” You shrug, scooting closer to him, loving the sensation of his soft curls tickling your forehead. “And I kind of like it.”

“That’s what matters,” He kisses you again and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

When you wake up, Tae is trying to balance his camera on top of your dresser, pointing at the bed. 

“What on earth are you doing?” You laugh at his wide eyes and messy hair. He’s still wearing yesterdays clothes and so are you, remembering the comfort of his arms being too much to even change. 

“I had an idea for my self-portrait assignment,” He smiles, boxy, true, loving. “And I want you in it.”

“Me?” You frown, confused.

He walks to you, calm and confident, and kneels down in from of you, body in between your legs, chin on your stomach. He takes a deep breath, kissing all the way up to your mouth, where he spends some time exploring, imploring. 

“I’ve never felt more myself then when I’m with you, Y/N,” He pulls away. “This is the best self-portrait I can have– you and me. I can just picture it, us, two, three years from now, looking back at them, remembering the night we truly met each other…”

You just smile. 

“Will you do it?” He asks, holding you r face in between his hands. “Will you help me?”

“Always.”

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

And with this fic, I officially open my multi-fandom blog to BTS fics! Wohoo! Taehyung is my favorite boxy smile, omg. I am so happy with this fic, though, and there is nothing like the accomplishment feeling that comes after finishing a story. As always, please let me know what you guys think :) Comments, likes, and reblogs fuel creators to keep going... I have also linked a Ko-Fi button on my page! Don’t feel obligated, but all donations are appreciated <3 Love you all!

[svtxsoju]

01. crush that hangover! | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 5.0k words  ღ Binu’s Note: ever stare at a selfie so long that it looks weird? ya that’s this chapter for me. there were just so many elements that i wanted to get right, but i kept changing things and now i can’t look at it anymore :c i’ll properly proofread it later, but for now enjoy!! i have some other content ima post later so i’m p excited for that hehehe anyway ya happy friday!!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Monday, September 2, 2019 9:05AM

This was not how Joohyun had imagined her first day at The Front. Whenever she described this moment to Jihoon, she was very clear about the way she would walk in so confidently that the senior writers would wonder why they forgot to email her an invite to their 8:30 meeting. Jihoon, who relished in raining on her parade, predicted that they wouldn’t even know her name. But she had no time for his blunt realism, because she had been living as a made-up person since June and her corporate daydreams were the only things keeping her sane. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she figured that once they saw her talent, everything would be just fine.

So it’s not difficult to imagine Joohyun’s distress when she just barely stumbled into the office this morning, nursing a mind-melting hangover. 

She should have known she would be a goner when the sports section interns had challenged her to a drinking game at last night’s welcome party. Her drinking partner, a small girl interning at HR, had only made it two shots in before falling asleep on her lap. For the record, she had still made sure that she was the last intern standing (although she definitely wasn’t the same bright-eyed freshman that could chug a pitcher of soju and beer just to spite Jihoon). Looking around the office, she felt a little relieved to find that the other interns were suffering just as much as her, if their slumped positions and pained groans told her anything. So much for giving a good first impression.

Joohyun was trying her best not to look like she was two steps from an early grave when she was approached by a big woman with a laptop in her arms. She awkwardly bowed her head to greet her, but the woman’s gaze never left the screen of her Macbook. “Miss… Joonyoung?”

“Oh, that’s not--” 

“You’re the new advice column intern, correct?” 

“Oh. Yes, that’s me, but that’s not my--” 

“I’ll show you to your desk.” Without so much as a glance, the woman turned on her heel, now typing furiously on her laptop. Joohyun followed behind glumly.

This was all Jihoon’s fault. 

“So, how’s your first day going?” Jihoon asked over his bowl of ramen. He flagged down the tall waiter and ordered a bowl of rice.

“Fine,” was Joohyun’s curt answer. In truth, it was far from ideal. She had watched longingly as all the other interns were assigned with their first projects, while she was left with an empty inbox. How was she supposed to write an advice column when there was no one asking her for advice? She spent most of the morning familiarizing herself with the previous entries of The Front’s dating advice column, the most recent of which dated to the newspaper’s May issue… from 1997. 

When her supervisor told her to take a lunch break, she had made a beeline to meet Jihoon at the restaurant near the cafe he worked at. Now that she was sitting in front of him though, she wasn’t quite ready to confess that her dream job was much more mundane than she expected. “Hey, wasn’t this a fried chicken shop last semester?” 

“That bad, huh?” Jihoon clicked his tongue. Joohyun sighed - she didn’t know why she even tried to hide anything from him when he’s known her for 12 years. He probably knew some parts of her better than she did. “Come on Joo, don’t give up on Miss Soju so easily. It’s just because you’re a little hungover. We watched The Notebook like five times this summer! What more do you need to know about true love? Do you want me to set you up on another date with that freakishly tall dude for more hands-on experience? Ah, speak of the devil!” 

“Thanks, Mingyu.” Joohyun took the bowl of rice and gave the server a sweet smile, which greatly contrasted with the glare she shot at Jihoon soon after. The server, a stunning boy with jet-black hair and tanned skin, stuck his tongue out at Jihoon. She waited until Mingyu went to the other side of the restaurant to serve a rowdy group of boys to whisper-shout at Jihoon. “Can you try not to expose my identity to the whole campus before I even get the chance to write my first ever entry?” 

“Ohhh, that’s why you’re sulking. No one’s sent you a letter yet so you didn’t get to do anything today,” Jihoon said. It sometimes got annoying how he could read her like she was his worn-out copy of his favorite sports manga.  She had to admit though, he did find ways to make it worth it. Like when he said, “I might actually be able to help you with that one, if you want. I can make a little shout out for Miss Soju on my stream tonight. For a small price, of course.” 

“You’re streaming tonight?” The girl perked up from poking at her noodles. Over the past three years, Jihoon had built up a cult following through Woozi’s Universe, a Twitch stream where he shared music made by the underground artists on campus (including him). He only ever released new music on Mondays, so tonight would definitely have a large viewership. Joohyun immediately went into her business pose lest she show how eager she really was. “Well, what would you like in exchange, Mr. Lee?” 

“I merely request that you pay for my lunch today, Ms. So,” he replied. Joohyun looked in horror at Jihoon, a petite man who ate like he was three boys going through puberty; today alone he had had an extra-large bowl of ramen, three orders of rice, and two cans of Coke. 

Then, she imagined facing an empty inbox for the rest of the week. Yup, this was  definitely worth it. That didn’t stop her from making a show of taking out her wallet, taking care to sigh extra  loudly. She had to give Jihoon his moment to revel in his triumphs, otherwise he would get grumpy. 

Jihoon cackled giddily. “Pleasure doing business with you as always, Ms. So.” 

“Pretty sure my hangover is coming back.”

“Oh shit, shut up!” Jihoon suddenly yelped and ducked underneath the table.

“What the hell, Jih--” 

“No, don’t say my name! He might hear you and then I’ll have to talk to him,” Jihoon whispered, jerking his head towards a bright yellow blur skipping to the back of the restaurant. “He’s one of my fans. He found out I worked at the cafe and now he keeps coming in to talk to about how sad his sex life is.”

Joohyun pursed her lips and peeked a glance over. He had joined the table of rowdy boys.  “Hmm, maybe I should say hi... he seems like a potential Miss Soju reader.” 

“Just pay the check already, woman!” 

The new interns at The Front were not the only students sporting hangovers that day. This can only be expected of the second week back at MU. Sunday night had been the explosive finale of a full week of department welcome parties, happy reunions, and lots and lots of alcohol. Some of the incoming freshmen were convinced that Mansae University was not actually a school, but a training ground for surviving as many shots of soju as physically possible. That is until they woke up on Monday morning and still had to drag themselves to their 9AM’s, suddenly faced with the reality of what college really was: an endless cycle of perpetual hangovers and school work that’s due way too soon. 

This was all good news for the new ramen shop on campus, which had been serving the hoards of hungover zombies since 10AM. Vernon, who was in great pain from the night before, had been ambushed by his roommate after his morning class. He was brought to the restaurant under the pretense of curing his woes with a bowl of warm soup and noodles. When he caught sight of a man in red waiting for them at a back table though, he immediately knew what was actually coming. 

“Hello Vernonnie,” Seungcheol greeted him with a sly smile. “Care to take a seat next to me?”

“Uh, not really,” Vernon mumbled, but he sat down anyway. He scrunched his nose at his roommate as the boy slumped into the seat in front of him. “Traitor.”

“Sorry babe, Seungcheol hyung promised me free lunch. Also, you’re one to talk, after you abandoned me to fend for myself last night--! Ugh,” his roommate, Seungkwan, clutched at his head, where a rusty hammer persistently tapped away at his temple. “Hyung, why did you do this to me? My face is gonna be bloated for the rest of the week. I have an audition in two days, you know!” 

“Hey, I did ask you if you were sure you wanted-- what was that you ordered? Oh yeah-- ‘the strongest drink that is legal to serve in South Korea’!” Seungcheol said, his eyes wide. As he got more defensive, he began to point his finger excessively at Seungkwan. “And what was it all for? To impress your new crush?” 

“I am way too hungover to get lectured by a couple of hypocrites,” Seungkwan grumbled. “I was trying to get some inspiration, you know, a drunken spark of genius! How else am I supposed to figure out how to confess to them?”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually asking,” Seungcheol ignored Seungkwan’s offended gasp in favor of turning his attention to a fidgeting Vernon. His cherry red lips now returned to its wide grin. “I am here to discuss where our dearest Vernon went off to last night.” 

“Um.” Vernon answered with a nervous smile. “I just went home early--”

“Bullshit!” Seungkwan looked absolutely scandalized. “It wasn’t enough to abandon me, so now you’re lying too? I don’t know if I can take much more of this!” 

Vernon had only officially known Seungkwan for two whole weeks, but with the way the two had been inseparable since move-in day, everyone at the freshmen dorms had assumed that they had known each other for years and years. He knew that someone like Boo Seungkwan was a rare find as far as random dorm assignments went, and that not everyone was so lucky to have a roommate that reminds them to eat real food once in a while or a friend who’s willing to take care of them when they get their first real hangover. Just for that day alone, Vernon knew that Seungkwan deserved to know where he went. Plus he shared a room with him, so it’s not like he could hide anything anyway.

Seungcheol shook his head and slung an arm around Vernon’s shoulder. His grip wasn’t tight but firm enough that Vernon knew he was trapped there until he confessed the truth. “Look, I don’t need any details! I just wanted to make sure that you’re staying safe and all that junk. Also, I would like to know what base you got to.” He erupted into a fit of giggles, but soon cleared his throat to return to his investigation. “Really though, tell us what happened.” 

It wasn’t like Vernon didn’t want to tell Seungcheol either. Vernon’s and Seungcheol’s families had known each other since the two boys were in middle and high school, and when he found out that Seungcheol would be a senior at Mansae University that year, he felt some of his nerves ease up about moving out. Seungcheol had always been like an older brother to him, and was always there when he needed his help in high school. He trusted him! 

That’s probably why he subconsciously blamed Seungcheol for the pain he was going through at the moment. When the upperclassman had offered to sneak Vernon and Seungkwan into a party at the karaoke bar that he bartended at, the two freshmen all too eagerly accepted without thinking of any consequences. They had received no pointers, no words of caution. How were they supposed to know that bar parties were completely different from welcome dinners? And how was Seungkwan supposed to know that downing so many cocktails within the hour wasn’t a good idea? Most importantly, how was Vernon supposed to know that he would meet someone like her there? Vernon groaned into his hands as he could no longer resist the flood of memories from the night before, and leaned into Seungcheol’s shoulder as he tried to recoil from his past self. “Hyung, it hurts too much to say out loud.”

“It’s okay buddy, take your time,” Seungcheol patted his head gently and called the tall server over. Vernon continued to let out unintelligible noises of regret while the senior ordered bowls for all three of them. “How are you even hungover right now? I only remember giving you one drink last night before you went off with--”

“I’m not hungover.”

“Oh. Then what are you?”

“An idiot,” Vernon mumbled through his fingers. “A big, cringy idiot.” 

Seungkwan raised his hand, looking frantically between the two boys. “Excuse me? Did I miss the reading homework? Went off with who? Last night? What? How drunk was I?!” 

“Very drunk, but that’s not why you didn’t notice Vernon’s new friend. You were a little occupied with your own conquest,” Seungcheol stage-whispered from across the table. “Honestly, you two are wild. It’s only two weeks into fall semester and you’re already out here simping.”

“Um, and? I saw you making googly eyes at several ladies last night!” The higher Seungkwan’s voice rose, the harder the rusty hammer banged inside his head. “Ow.”

“Those were just my friends who happened to be ladies! Sorry that my eyes are just naturally soft and alluring,” Seungcheol said, batting his long, dark lashes at the boy. “What were her eyes like, Vernon? I only noticed that she had a nose ring. Couldn’t really see her properly while you two were ‘talking’ in the corner...” 

“The corner! A nose ring!” Seungkwan repeated and clutched at his chest. “Tell me more.” 

“We were just talking!” Vernon finally spoke, his face stuck in an embarrassed grimace. “There’s not really much more to tell. I just know that she’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met and I’ll never meet anyone like her again.”

“What! You two were talking for like two hours! And I saw you leaving with her!” Seungcheol said a little too loudly for Vernon’s liking. The server gingerly approached their table with their orders, setting the bowls down as quickly as possible before rushing away. Vernon noted to give him a big tip when they left. “Don’t tell us that’s all.”

“I just dropped her off at her apartment and went back to the dorms,” Vernon confirmed to Seungcheol’s horror. “I really didn’t want it to be just last night.”

“So... you asked her out?” 

“No.”

“You got her number?”

“No.”

“Her Instagram? Her Twitter? Her student ID number? Do you even know her name?” 

“I already said I was an idiot,” Vernon whined. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it. But yes, I did at least get her name.”

It was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. She was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. The way her eyes had lit up while they talked about her major. The way her lips had curved into a clever smile when she told a joke. The way her small hand had fit in his as they walked to her apartment. Then, he would remember how he completely fucked it all up before he started, and his headache would return full-force. 

“Dude.” Seungcheol fixed him with a stern stare, but it was kind of hard to take him seriously when his mouth was full of noodles. “Have you never asked a girl out before?”

“You know I have! I don’t know what happened either, okay? I guess I just froze up when she looked at me… then I just went home after telling her good night.”

Seungcheol feigned a gag. “Gross. I was joking earlier, but you’re an actual simp. Hate to break it to you like this.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Seungkwan piped up from where he comfortably rested his head on the table.

“That’s nice, Seungkwan, but ‘sweet’ isn’t gonna get either of you laid,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Vernon, your girl was clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Trust me, girls don’t just ask anyone to walk them home.”

“I didn’t want to look like a creep!” Vernon sullenly stared down at his untouched bowl of noodles. “What am I supposed to do now, hyung?”

“Yeah, lend us your wisdom, O Alluring One,” Seungkwan chanted. “You clearly have plenty of experience from the past three years. 

“Like I said, I just have a lot of friends,” Seungcheol shrugged, then suddenly checked the time on his phone. “Oh shit--  speaking of friends, I have to meet one for a study session at her apartment in 15 minutes.”

“Sounds nasty.”

“Your mom’s nasty,” Seungcheol retorted with a provocative smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Boo! Then maybe you’d be able to think of how to confess.”

“Uncalled for!”

He placed several bills on the table and checked his phone again. “This should be enough to cover lunch, kiddos. I wish I could help you two, but I’m booked for the rest of the day. And the week.”

“But what if I meet her again?” Vernon asked desperately. 

“Then text me! I might not reply right away though. I’ve got two classes later and then I have dinner plans--”

“Another girl I presume--”

“Shut up! I also have to go to the gym before doing… uh, doing a thing. And then I have a shift at 24H.” Seungcheol stood up and looked at the distressed boys before him, his soft eyes more affectionate than alluring. Was he like this as a freshman? He reached over to ruffle the freshmans' heads. “You two should probably leave soon, too. I’ll see y’all later!” 

And just like that, Seungcheol was gone, and Vernon was once again left without any advice from the senior. Vernon was never one for dramatics, but his personal failures felt like a gray cloud of shame hanging over him. He began to worry that he was just gonna have to live like this forever, because nothing in the world was bright enough to break through his doom and gloom (well, her smile probably could, but Vernon was never going to see that again). The fact that Seungkwan seemed like he was about to Train to Busan his ass any minute now didn’t really lift his spirits either.

Lucky for him, the universe was not going to let him give up so easily. At that moment, a boy with glaringly yellow hair and a heavy camera on his shoulder bursted through the entrance. His smile brightened when he spotted the two boys in the back and he didn’t hesitate to bound towards them, skipping right past the server welcoming him in. “Seungkwan! I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dearest Vernon, it seems we have been joined by the lovely Soonyoung hyung. Perhaps he might know the medicine we require to ease our ailments in love,” Seungkwan suddenly stood up, all signs of his hangover expertly hidden. He smiled directly into the camera lens. “Hyung, would you kindly share your wisdom with us lowly freshmen? Pray tell, how does one woo the object of their affection?”

Vernon, who was well-acquainted with Seungkwan’s antics by then, watched on in silent amusement. If anything could distract him from his internal turmoil for a moment, it was Seungkwan; even if he was just spewing nonsense. What really made him crack up though, was the way Soonyoung (that was his name, right?) was clearly trying very hard to suppress his giggles. “Um,” Soonyoung managed to  cut in breathlessly. “You know I’m not rolling, right? Also, I didn’t understand any of the words that just left your mouth, but it definitely felt like you were putting some sort of ancient curse on me. Hi, I’m Soonyoung by the way!”

Vernon introduced himself and shook Soonyoung’s hand. Seungkwan could only sigh in exasperation at Soonyoung’s lack of culture (not that he was surprised of course). The boy apparently thought it was a good fashion choice to leave his apartment wearing a tiger print button-up. “I was  asking if you could help us out with confessing to our crushes,” Seungkwan said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Ohh, that’s what you said!” Soonyoung laughed until he was keeled over, clutching his stomach. Vernon and Seungkwan could only watch him with great expectation. When the boy finally caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, he gave the boys a very serious look. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten any since January. So you should probably ask someone else.” 

This also did not surprise Seungkwan. 

“Excuse me?” The tall server approached them again, clearly giving them his best ‘I hate working in retail’ smile. “If y’all are done eating, could you please leave? You’re disturbing the other customers.” 

“I’m eating, I’m eating!” Soonyoung smiled until his cheeks reached his eyes, a power move that he saves for occasions where he found himself in trouble, which happened more often than he’d care to admit. Once the server let them be, muttering something about not getting paid enough, Soonyoung turned his killing smile onto the two boys. “Can I have some of this? I can Venmo y’all later, I’m pretty broke right now.” 

Vernon pushed his uneaten ramen towards Soonyoung, who looked at him as if he was the sun itself. The boy carefully set down his film camera and immediately began slurping away. Vernon nodded his head towards the contraption and asked why he was carrying it around.

 “Oh, I rented it before coming to find Seungkwan. I’m thinking about making him the subject of my film project this semester, since the theater program is pretty buzzed that he’s joining this year!” Soonyoung patted the camera affectionately.

“‘Thinking about?’ I thought I was your final choice!” Seungkwan blurted. The ramen he had for lunch seemed to have finally restored some of his strength, because he no longer clutched at his temple when his voice rose.

“I said ‘most likely’ choice! I just want to keep my options open,” Soonyoung responded with great care. He didn’t want to hurt Seungkwan’s feelings, but he was definitely re-evaluating alternate subjects at the moment.  “It’s only the second week!”

“This is why you’re single,” the theater major said in a huff. “Lack of commitment!”

“Hey! I am perfectly capable of commitment. It’s the girls that don’t want to commit, ” Soonyoung said in a small voice, and looked off into the distance wistfully. “I really hope Woozi does put out a new song tonight. Maybe he’ll tweet something soon.” 

“Woozi? Who’s that?” Vernon asked. At this point, he was just looking for anything that would fend off his memories, which lingered at the edges of his mind and waited for moments of silence to bring him another fresh glass of cringe. He was pretty sure that he had experienced well above the recommended daily serving. 

“Oh, he’s a Twitch streamer from MU! I was actually gonna say if you two are really struggling in the love department, you should definitely check out his stream tonight.” Soonyoung nearly wiggled with enthusiasm. “He usually promotes songs from artists around the area, but his self-composed songs are my personal favorites. They’ve been what’s getting me through this dry spell, honestly.”

“Oh, that sounds pretty cool.” It sounded like it was right up Vernon’s alley, actually. 

Soonyoung nodded. “You listen to them and you just feel hopeful to find the kind of love he sings about. I’ll send you the link later!” 

“Underground artists? No thanks, I think I’ll stick to Eva Noblezada,” Seungkwan scoffed. “I don’t really think a stranger can help me with my problems. They don’t even know me.” 

“Oh come on, Kwan. Let’s just give it a shot!”

Even after all his grumbling, Seungkwan still sat beside Vernon at one of the desks in their dorm later that night. They had opened the link Soonyoung had sent them, and munched on some snacks while they waited for the stream to start up. Vernon waited with baited breath for his distraction to begin; he had spent most of the day attempting to wall off any thoughts of her or last night, but it was kind of difficult to think of anything else when all of his professors only droned on and on about quizzes and homework. 

When a boy with fair skin and burgundy hair came into frame, he nearly sighed in relief. The streamer appeared to be sitting in a small, dark office only illuminated by his computer screen and several pink neon signs that hung on the walls. Vernon could recognize the faint outlines of several guitars and a keyboard behind him. The boy clicked around for a while as more people joined the stream before finally waving into the camera. 

“Hi guys, welcome in! Thanks for joining Woozi’s Universe. If you’re new here, I’m Woozi and I like to write songs sometimes. If you’re an old subscriber, I’m really sorry for the long wait.  I’ve been working on a lot of projects, doing some collabs - I’ll actually be releasing one of those collabs tonight and I’m really excited for you guys to hear it. If you have any new songs you want to listen to together, go ahead and leave them in the chat!”

As soon as the stream started flowing, Vernon immediately knew why Soonyoung gave Woozi such rave reviews. The guy just had good vibes and he definitely knew his music. Vernon was hooked. Even Seungkwan, try as he might to look disinterested, couldn’t help bopping his head occasionally.

“Thanks for the subscription @chweinggum! You just helped me reach my tenth new sub for tonight, and you guys know what that means. Time for the new song! It was really fun to write this with my collaborator, so we really hope you like it!” 

After spending the past hour just vibing in Woozi’s Universe, discovering new songs and artists, Vernon had really hyped himself up to hear the streamer’s personal work. If Soonyoung’s words were true, this would be the song that would truly heal his heartache, the song that would push him to forget about the whole ordeal. He listened in anticipation as pleasant harmonies played through his laptop speakers. But as the song progressed, Vernon did not quite feel the reprieve he was hoping for. In fact, he was kind of taken aback. The lyrics… felt like they told his story. Maybe not word for word, but enough to make Vernon stare at the laptop screen with his mouth open. What kind of hocus pocus, That’s So Raven, mind reading shit was this? The song broke down the walls he had tried to build throughout the day and left him vulnerable to its strangely upbeat and energetic tune. 

He had to admit that he didn’t hate it. The cringe from his own actions did not disappear, but the song helped him focus more on the moments that made his heart flutter, the moments that incited those pesky butterflies in his stomach. They were the moments that made him so hard on himself in the first place and the reasons why it hurt so much that he messed up. She had made him feel seen. She had done everything right. And all he wanted to do was to show her that he saw her too. He just had to figure out how. 

Woozi clapped his hands loudly when the song came to an end, bringing Vernon out of his deep reverie. “And that was Pretty U by yours truly! I collaborated on it with an artist who doesn’t want to be named as of now, so I’ll just say it was great to work with such a talented person and I hope to work with them again soon! Anyway, we know the lyrics are pretty cheesy, but let’s just say it’s based on a juvenile romance! I tried capturing that giddy feeling of liking someone and wanting to tell them pretty words but losing confidence at the last second. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.”

Vernon sat up, nodding his head as if Woozi could see him. After his song scanned his soul like that, Vernon figured it wasn’t impossible.

“I know that some of my subscribers listen to me because they go through these kinds of hardships. But I wanted to say that my songs can’t fix everything. Even I go through it sometimes and I need someone to lean on. There’s actually a new thing I just found out about from a friend - ‘Dear Miss Soju’. It’s a column that they’re gonna start publishing on The Front’s website, and you can anonymously write in all your burning questions about love, relationships, or sex. So if you’re having a hard time confessing like in this song, just know that there’s someone out there to help you out!

“Since you’ll be anonymous, you can write about your heart’s deepest desires, even if it’s a little freaky. Yes, I’m talking to you, user @callmesoon, please stop trying to tell me about your sex life. Anyway, I’ll put the email in the description for anyone that’s interested!” Woozi paused to laugh at several of the comments. “No guys, The Front does not sponsor me. But I can tell you about a company that does sponsor me. Hello Fresh--”  

Seungkwan closed the laptop and sighed. “Well, that didn’t help me at all. Soonyoung hyung said this Woozi guy was gonna make me feel better, but now he’s just telling us to spilll all our secrets to some other stranger. What a scam! Right, Vernon? Vernon?”

By the time Seungkwan turned to look at his friend, Vernon was already writing his second draft for his email. The boy sighed again. Maybe he could give it a shot.

The next morning, Joohyun opened up her laptop to find thirteen emails in her inbox. She smiled. 

Now she could get to work.

[dnarez]

Chapter 2 - Moving out

((

The pictures I was going to use aren’t mine, so I think it’s better 4 me to just share the Wattpad link where you can see the story with the pics

https://www.wattpad.com/925296862-hawks%27s-sister-chapter-2-moving-out

))

I get inside my new home... it's very basic and simple, just a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom and the living room, nothing to fancy but it's enough for the 3 of us.

I look at all the boxes in the living room's floor and sigh.

"Come on Haru, Void! Let me get you some water, after I finish unpacking we will go out to eat, who would like some chicken?"

Haru barks and runs inside, Void follows behind. I close the door, lock it and put a bow with water on the floor and the other on top of a tall box.

-

'It's hard to accept that they would put me out like this... at least they had some heart to get me a place to stay, and it's just a few blocks from UA, I still can't believe that I did it! I'm so happy! But so nervous... but I still did it!' I fist bump the air, then start getting the boxes that have "bedroom" in them in their place.

'I'm glad I passed the entrance, sadly I couldn't try for the hero course... they even had locked me up that day to make sure that I wouldn't even try' I start unpacking my things. 'If they see me in the hero course they will stop paying the bills of this apartment and I can't go make my dreams true while homeless and hungry... I'm so glad they gave me some kind of allowance'

After finishing getting the desk, bed and shelf set I start organizing everything. 'I heard a rumor that when you are in the U.A you get a few chances of getting in the hero course, I hope they are true, I will have to get the hard way around, but that's fine! I still have to learn how to fly and stuff, actually... I don't think I would pass even with my wings in the hero course exam... I can do so little with my wings...'

'But it's okay! Because I will go and be Plus Ultra!' I finish my room living it simple 'Maybe if I don't spend too much money, in a few months I could get this please a little better... but for now it's perfect'.

I go back to the living room and get the bathroom boxes to go unpack my things, but stop to take a better look at Haru and see her chewing something.

"Haru... what are you eating?" I approach her after putting down the boxes, but she starts to chew faster "HEY GIVE ME THAT!" I go to get her, but she is faster than me, so I had cornered her in the kitchen and immobilize her "Spit it out!" I open her mouth trying not to hurt her the best I can "SPIT IT OUT" I put my hand in her mouth and search for the thing "SPIT. IT. OUT." I finally get it and release her "Damn girl! You almost gave me a heart attack!" I look at the thing and see it's the cap of my shampoo "HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET THIS? The box was closed I'm sure..." I sigh and go wash the cap then go to the bathroom getting the boxes off the floor and taking it with me.

"Should I call then to tell that I got here safe?..."

'You are no daughter of mine'

'I wish I never had any of  you!'

"Maybe not... both of us hm..." I finish setting the bathroom. "That's better!" I smile at the result.

"Now I'm starting to feel more at home!" I go check on my pets and see they both in my bed, Haru by the feet and Void in my pillow "what time is it?" I look at the clock and see that is 16h(4pm) I started at 10h(10am) "Wow time pass fast when we are having fun! But not really... I'm starting to get tired... maybe I should take a break and- no! I can't! There is just the living room and the kitchen and I will have finished! Hmmmm... I deserve some good chicken tonight!"

I kiss the top of their heads "sweet dreams cuties!" I go to the living room and get everything ready to start the kitchen. "Hands to work people! And by people I mean me, myself and I" I get everything ready by 17h40(5h40) "Uuuuh! Pretty!"

"Damn! I'm such a sloth! I- need to... take a break!" I say between breaths while i go to sit in the bed to relax a little. "I really need to train hu?" I Sigh

"... is it normal to miss who doesn't love you?" The house was silent, I look at the window and see that it was starting to get dark "I will let my thoughts get to me later now I have shit to do" I get up and go unpack everything that was left.

...........timeskip

"FINALLY DONE! AAAAAAAH!" I trow myself at the couch and stay laying there for a few minutes.

'It's dark but there is a kfc near here so it won't too take long'

"Void! Haru! I'm going out! Do any of you want to come with me?" Void comes flying and sits at the top of my h/c hair "Okay big guy! We will have to come back so let's not get ourselves lost ok?" I get my jacket and put on some pants while at it 'these always hide them better'

"CAW!"

"That's the spirit! Sorry Haru, but only one at time" I pet her head and kiss it "You can sleep with me today because of that!"

"WOOF!"

"Hehehe bye! We will be back soon"

I grab my keys while I go I put the hood, then getting down the stairs.

'I like living in the 5th floor, I can have some nice view and am not so dependable of the elevator, that's good!' I get out of the apartment complex and go down to the right 'I remember passing by a kfc before getting home so it must be near'

Void goes to my shoulder and hide inside my hood behind my neck.

"Hey! Don't go-" I look around to see people looking at me with a weird look since I was almost screaming with no one, 'I feel so embarrassed, I can't go running back home because I'm hungry! And I can't go running in this neighborhood that I know nothing of' I sigh and keep walking straight ignoring the looks they are giving me.

'Wait... did I get my wallet?' I check my pockets "fuck!... Void... honey" I stop next to the wall out of people's way and cover my mouth with my hand, his head poke out of his hiding spot that is between my neck and my hair "I need you to go back and grab my wallet... please Void, I promise that you will get some tasty popcorn tomorrow, ok?" He nods and goes back home sigh.... I'm happy that it was hot today, or I wouldn't have let the window of the living room open' I wait a bit more until he came back with the wallet in his beak. "Yes! My sweet raven! My dark crow! My knight wing!" He drops it in my hands and goes back to hide behind my neck inside my hood.

"Thank you Void!" I whisper to him and go back to walk to the kfc to get my tasty chicken.

I walk in and drop my hood.

'I'm lucky that this place is 10min walking from home, but I will need to get groceries tomorrow while coming back from school... what class I was in? I think it was... 1-E General Studies, I have to use a skirt, so I will be missing some feathers... I already have my school uniform and my school material, since I already have the uniform I don't think they will let me change it' I sigh and go to the line to get my food.

I feel Void moving and turn my head to see his beak poking out of my h/c hair. "Void! If someone sees you I will get in trouble! Go back in!" I whisper while making him hide himself again and when I see is my turn to order, I make my order, pay and go sit in the farthest corner away from others eyes and take Void out. "You bird brain! I thought that crows were supposed to be smart!" He turns his back to me "don't you dare ignore me! I could get in trouble Void! If mom and dad get a call from the police for any reason I can say bye bye to my hero course dream... and would say bye bye to me you little-"

"Number 69?"

"Nice! Our order is ready!" I get up and go get it I see that Void still is in the table, I whistle, and he flies to me landing in my shoulder, I look at the lady in the counter, she is eyeing Void.

"Sorry form bringing him in, but he doesn't like being alone" I scratch his head and get my order to go "Have a nice night"

"Y-you too..." the lady goes back to work and I go out and start going home "I need a place to train... I can't even fly, so I will need to get everything right... how the hell will I ever-" I looked up to take a breath and saw him.... Hawks! I see doing inside the kfc that I just got out of "omg... what do I do? Hmmmmm..." I stare at the kfc door for a few minutes and am surprised that Hawks came out with a bow of wings already made, hot n steamy.

He turns his back to me and goes on to walk his merry way, but before he can get another step away from me my body acts on his on. "Pro hero Hawks wait, please!" He stops and turn around to face me 'damn he got all the good traits from mom and dad'...

"Hi! Need something?" He smiles down at me

"Could you tell me if you know any good place to train my quirk? I know that it's illegal to use it without the license but I need to train to become a hero!". He looks at me with a sweet smile

"Sure little bird, what's your quirk?" He faces me completely

"It's-..."

'Damn it... I don't think I should tell him and let him get suspicious of me... but I really need help with this so fuck it'

"It's just like yours but my wings can change colors"

He looks in my eyes, then look at my back and chuckles "Sorry but I don't see wings on your back little bird"

"Oh! I tuck them in!" He turns serious at that.

"Wait, what? You hide your wings? Why?"

"Hmmmm... mom and dad don't like them, so they tell me to hide them" this isn't a lie, but it also isn't the full truth.

"Can you fly at least?"

I shake my head. "I never tried before... and I am scared... really scared" I look at the ground in shame

"Hey is normal to be scared, I was terrified in my first flight"

"Really?! But you are so cool! And can fly so well" he laughs at that

"Yes, thank you, I am the way I am now because of my training, it would include things that I didn't want to do you will be fine as long as you have faith in yourself" he pets my head

"And a place to train" he chuckles again

"And a place to train, I have to go but here" he gave me a paper with an address not too far from home "that is a good and discreet place to train, good luck little bird" he pets my head again and flies above me "I hope to see you in the sky any day by now" he waves to me one more time and fly off.

'YES!' I smile wildly and start to sprint home 'thank you big bro! You are the best!'

Tomorrow is a new day, tomorrow is the day that I will start U.A! . . . . . . . ........................................................................

Omg this was so fun to write! I know that this chapter was kinda bland n stuff, but I wanted you all to feel connected with y/n, so a chapter with her alone may help me active it.

Also having Hawks in the end was by accident, I was planning on putting him after the usj incident, but this chapter would be too blunt if it would end with nothing to hold on to, so I changed a bit!

Hope u all r enjoying! A lot of kisses to u all , until next week

Dnarez ❤~

[phoebehalliwell]

Hi! I’ve recently fallen down the Charmed rabbit hole again and I fount your blog, which is amazing btw !! I LOVE YOUR CHARMED NEXT GEN FIC!!!! I also really enjoyed your thoughts about Phoebe's kid! I wish they would have lived in the actual show. How do you think Phoebe’s child living would have impacted her relationship with Coop? And the whole twice blessed prophecy?

!!!!!!!!!!! thank you!! and i’m so glad you like my fic (which i promise i am still working on)!!

as far as phoebe’s kid + the twice blessed prophecy, i have written on that au here, but i think if the baby really had been born it would not be the twice blessed but i do think they would still probably give that plotline to wyatt just bc. i also think that having a child and being a single mother would really further the need for coop bc dating as a single mom while still having a career is hard enough but dating while you’re a single mom with a full time job and a magical half demon baby who was lowkey the antichrist for the better part of the first trimester is a whole new can of worms. i think she still would have had a relationship with jason dean but i think it would be very short lived as i don’t think that he would be ready to commit to a family. and then by the time we hit season six and piper and leo have broken up and jason has left phoebe and yada yada yada phoebe would really be like huh. love isn’t real. we’re all gonna die alone.

and so she’s sitting at a cafe with paige at the end of love’s a witch and is completely ranting about how love is dead or whatever and paige is just like yeah. uh huh. yep. totally. yeah. yeah. i know what you mean. yeah. uh huh. bc it’s totally Not the time to bring up the fact that she has a date with richard on friday and phoebe’s just going on and on like “okay bc look at olivia! she was doing what she was doing out of love!! and she was killing people!!! just an evil, sad, lovesick, ghost. like me. you know cole was my longest relationship? that was like,,, the most successful relationship i had, and it wasn’t even remotely a success!! he turned me evil, paige. i became evil. because that’s what love does. it bring out the worst in people.” and paige is sitting there like jfc i think i need to bring in a shrink or something when all of a sudden the dude pulls up a chair at their table and is like “hi hate to interrupt but i couldn’t help but overhear and you’re wrong” and phoebe’s like who the hell are you and paige is like yeah fuck off buddy private conversation here and this guy’s like “look. love is the strongest magic we have” and paige is like “ehh i think other, stronger magic” and phoebe’s all like “okay, i don’t know who you are, but you don’t know me and you don’t know what i’ve been through okay so you don’t get to sit down here and try to talk to me about love. bitch.” and this guys just like “actually, i do. my name’s coop. it’s nice to meet you, officially.” and he holds out his hand for a handshake and phoebe’s looking at him like imma judo flip u motherfucker but then something catches her eye and she snatches his hand and flips it over, staring at his cupid ring and she’s like no. she grabs her coffee and storms out leaving coop and a Very Confused paige sitting at the cafe table. she turns around at the exit and gestures to paige like come on let’s go get out of here so paige grabs her croissant and purse awkwardly and leaves and coop’s like “i hope everything goes well with richard!” and paige is like????? so she pulls phoebe aside like Who Was That and phoebe’s like “that was the most annoying, pesky, interfering magical creature there is out there. that was a cupid.”

and later that night phoebe would be tucking her child asleep (who in this story is a little girl named prudence) when she hears “you love her, and it doesn’t seem to bring out the worst in you.” and she whips around to find coop leaning in the doorframe and she’s like “you better leave before i vanquish you” and coop sorta just laughs softly and he’s like “i get it. you’ve been burned before. but actively fighting love? it’s not you, phoebe.” and she’s like “tf do you think you know about me” and coop’s like “i know you believe in love. true love. the kind that takes your breath away, where it's the first thing that you think about when you wake up in the morning. you wanna know how i know that?” and phoebe just glares at him in a very defensive stance like yes i want to know but no i will not play into your stupid little monologue and coop’s like “i read your column. not many people could write like that. you help people find love every day, you help them reach out, take risks, open up their hearts-” “okay you know what i’ve had enough of your little sugar coated soap opera speech. go bug someone else.” and phoebe pushes her way past him and beelines for her bedroom, slamming the door and coop’s like :|

and the next morning phoebe’s eating cereal and by eating a i do mean just pushing wheaties around in a pool of milk while dency and wyatt play in the playpen and piper comes in with a mug of coffee like “good morning how are-” “am i a cold hearted cynic?” “...you doing this fine friday morning??” “i’ve got a cupid on my ass” “i’m going to hope you mean the magical kind and not some bad tattoo situation” “i mean, yesterday i was saying that love brings out the worst in people and now i’ve got this 6′2″ cupid with a square jawline following me around. but like,,, don’t i have the right to say that??? all love has done is hurt me. i’m allowed to bitch a little about it!! like! mind your own business??? goddamn! and you know-” “phoebe i just woke up save the onslaught until after 10am please” and phoebe just sorta pauses and goes back to pushing her cereal around and piper says “and i’m not calling you a cold hearted cynic but... you have changed” and phoebe’s completely ready to rant again like “pfft of course i’ve changed you think you can be married to the source of all-” “zp! not til after 10!” and phoebe slumps back and watches as dency draws a small pattern in frost on the tile floor and you can tell she’s sorta mulling over what coop said blah blah blah this episode is the vortex demon she gets knocked into a world based on her innermost desires and in it she’s happily married and in love in an apartment of her own raising her daughter and writing her column blah blah blah she takes one look at her finger that very much has a wedding band on it and is like “cupid!!!! cupid u fuckin bastard get down here!!! cupid!!!” and no response and she’s scowling like “coop??? coop!!!!!!!!” and he’s no where to be seen and she’s like wait shit i think this is the alternate whirlpool vortex things i gotta find my sister blah blah blah chris knocks paige into phoebe’s world and paige is like “okay what’s the catch” and phoebe’s like “what catch” and paige is like “you know, the catch! what makes this not reality. like in my world, magic was practiced openly, and everyone knew about it. come on, chris said the realities were shaped my like our fantasies or wants... is anything different here??” and phoebe’s like “oh you know uhh not really everything basically the same um but you know i have my own apartment here where i live with dency...” “oh my god wait where is she now who’s taking care of her?” “oh uh well that would be my husband.” “cole’s alive????” “no! not cole! i don’t know who he is actually but he seems nice :)” and there’s a beat where you can tell paige really wants to Get Into What This Means and phoebe really Doesn’t Want To Talk About It but then they both seem to agree that they’re being hunted by a demon so maybe this can take a back seat rn blah blah blah they kill the demon and the end of the episode paige is about to go on her date w richard and her and phoebe have a little heart to heart and paige is like i think you should talk to the cupid bc i think maybe your whole hating love thing might just be a front like i think you’re trying to convince urself of something blah blah blah and phoebe’s just like :/ maybe so.

alright blah blah blah next episode phoebe’s like “coop?” and coop, suddenly appearing behind her is like “yeah?” and phoebe’s like “i give up. so uh work your little cupid magic or whatever and i guess let’s do this thing.” and coop like lights up he’s like so happy and he’s all like “great! let’s get started!” and phoebe’s mentally preparing for a series of really boring dates but then coop surprises her by not doing that??? like he doesn’t set her up with anyone at all bc he’s all like you need time to heal and find urself again???? which honestly phoebe isn’t complaining about and like phoebe will be feeding baby dency in the kitchen and coop will pop in like “what are your thought on taking a pottery class?” and it’s happened before where she’s been so swamped with work that she doesn’t have time to pick up supplies for dency so coop will just go out and like buy diapers?? and gradually phoebe feels herself opening up more and more and one night she’s at p3 and this guy come up to talk to her and she doesn’t just scowl him away and she finds herself having a great conversation and she see coop wink at her from across the bar.

and you know things go well with this guy yada yada yada but one night she goes out on a date and her sisters weren’t able to watch lil dency for her so coop was babysitting and she comes back home to see coop sending out small pink glowing projections from his ring and her baby just laughing uncontrollably trying to catch them and phoebe gets why she has been ready to dive fully in to the guy she’s been going out with. coop says it’s just nerves bc of her past relationships and that it’s completely fine and understandable but phoebe knows better. or at least now she does. she’s in love with coop.

[angelic-holland]

Palm Trees // th x fem!reader

Summary: You were starring alongside Scarlett Johansson in the new Black Widow movie, she’s a younger spy that Nat saves from the Red Room, trains her to be better. You meet Tom prior to the premiere of The Red Room and he agrees to be your date. 

Part of my Drive North series. Based on the song Palm Trees by the SWMRs, listen to it while reading. As you will hear in the song, it discusses the corruption of Hollywood and younger more naive people being taken advantage of in the industry. 

Warnings: brief sexual harassment (not Tom), angst

Word Count: 6.1K

Sarah! Sarah! Look over here! Sarah! Smile!” You hear people shout and you wave and grin as your security walks you inside Jimmy Kimmel’s studio. Your stage name, Sarah Winters was being called left and right.

You know that they were really waiting for Scarlett who would be arriving soon, but they knew a little about your role in the movie, they’ve seen the behind the scenes photos and they’ve seen the trailer, so they’ve got some idea of who you are.

You made your way inside, getting put in your own dressing room which was literally a dream, something you’ve been thinking about and hoping would happen since you were a little girl.

When Scarlett arrived she hugged you tight. When Jimmy asked you questions about the movie, you talked excitedly and animatedly, almost spoiling a huge plot point when Scarlett put her hand over your mouth.

“Looks like Holland’s gonna get a run for his money on the spoilers,” she laughs and you’re blushing, you totally knew what you could and couldn’t say but this was the first big, TV interview you’d ever done. You were just incredibly excited.

Later that night you posted some photos on your Instagram, the first one being a shot of Scarlett’s hand over your mouth with your eyes wide.

You laughed as you captioned it, “let’s play how to keep Y/N from spoiling the entire Black Widow movie”.

You posted it and as you got ready for bed, exhausted from the long day of press. Before falling asleep you saw some comments, most of them were funny, a lot were tagging Tom saying that you were coming for his title.  

You saw a notification that Tom had commented on your post as well, probably because everyone kept tagging him.

tomholland2013: as spoiler king, you can be spoiler queen, no stealing my title

You rolled your eyes, blushing a little. You ignored the onslaught of people commenting, lots of those sideways glancing eye emojis, a few keyboard smashes. You’ve never even met the guy. A few moments later you noticed he had followed you. You wondered if he would be at the Black Widow premiere, then maybe you could meet him. Since before you were cast as the young woman who Natasha takes under her wing, you’ve always been a fan of Marvel movies, the smallest crush on the actor who played Spiderman. He was attractive, seemed nice enough, your age; what more could you ask for?

You sent a quick text to Scarlett, asking if other MCU actors would be at the premiere.

Scarlett: why? Hoping a certain someone might show up?

You: psshhh no I don’t know what you mean

Scarlett: Tom might be there, let me ask

You: no omg he’ll wanna know why you’re asking

Scarlett: no he won’t give me a second

You groan, putting your phone on the edge of the bedside table and trying to sleep.

You wake up the next morning by your alarm. You’ve got a flight to London to do one last round of press before the premiere in a week.

You shower quickly and toss on a comfortable sweatshirt and gym shorts before shoving your PJs into your suitcase, making sure you had everything from your hotel room. You make it to the car that was waiting for you on time, miraculously, before checking your phone.

You noticed a text from an unknown number and frowned, opening it as you got in the backseat.

“Airport?” The driver asks.

“Yes please, thank you!”

Unknown number: Hey so I heard you need a date to the Black Widow premiere.

You: sorry who is this?

You check your texts to Scarlett.

Scarlett: a certain someone may or may not have asked if you’re going with anyone to the premiere, told him you weren’t, think you might be interested in having him on your arm for the night

You: wait, like, Tom Holland , that’s who we’re talking about? No way you didn’t convince him out of pity

You’re heart is sort of racing as you wait for a response from Scarlett.

She sends back a screenshot of her conversation with Tom, her asking if he’s going to the premiere. Then him asking if you have a date. And Scarlett telling him you didn’t, but he better act fast and then she sent your phone number.

You quickly add the unknown number in your phone.

You: I mean, you don’t even know me like at all, what would make you want to be my date?

You’re shocked by how quickly he answers.

Tom: well I could get to know you.

You: you know everyone and their mother is freaking out about that insta comment of yours?

Tom: their mothers too? Quite nosy aren’t they?

Tom: So, when can I meet you? See if you’re truly the spoiler queen

You:  I ALMOST say one thing and suddenly I’m the spoiler queen? At least I didn’t actually spoil any big plot points from the movie

Tom: fine fine you haven’t earned that title yet

Tom: you and Scarlett will be in London tomorrow right?

You: you stalking me?

Tom: no, just asked Scarlett

“Miss? We’re at the airport.”

You look up and sure enough your driver has pulled up to the airport. Someone opens the door, greeting themselves as your security, taking your suitcase from the trunk and offering to hold your backpack.

“I’m fine thank you,” you say as he walks you into the airport. Thankfully there aren’t any paparazzi or fans of Scarlett here, who was taking a later flight.

You check in and your suitcase is sent off before you go through security, Todd, the security person following you. He let you know he’d be with you until your flight and then when you landed in London there would be another person waiting for you.

This was all new to you, having security with you at airports, when you went to press events, the rare occasion of being recognized when you’re out and about.

You checked your phone again while waiting to board. It was a short wait, another thing you’ve never experienced, one was plane flights in general, the other was getting to be in first class. You felt so fancy you lost your mind the first time you flew with the cast to a filming location in Europe.

You waited for your seat location to be called, seeing another text from Tom.

Tom: I’ll be in London for the next few days, call me when you land

You gulp, quickly responding before boarding.

You: will do

The entire plane ride you attempt to sleep, try not to think of Tom fucking Holland asking you to call him. It doesn’t work. You sit there, watch movie after movie, trying to keep your mind off the boy. You gave up and put on Spiderman: Homecoming. You’ve seen it before so you let yourself get a little lost in the story, falling asleep about halfway through. You’re woken up by the rumble of the plane touching down.

***

You make it to your hotel with limited problems, you at first couldn’t find the security person waiting for you then realized he was holding a sign with your stage last name and not your real last name.

“Hi Miss Winters, I’ll be working with you while you’re in London, names Rick, shall we head to the hotel?”

“That’d be great, thank you,” you say, noting he’s already got your suitcase.

You see another text from Tom and blush as you sit in the car.

Tom: don’t wanna sound like a weirdo tho so ur totally not obligated to go out with me if you don’t want to

You: who said anything about going out?

Tom: I just meant, like to get to know each other before you whisk me away on the red carpet

You: I’ll see if I can sneak away from the hotel tonight, don’t have press until tomorrow

Tom: I could come to you

You: huh

Tom: we could hang in your hotel room, order room service, besides if we are out and about together the instagram comments would be the least of our problems

You: problems?

You frown, problems? You didn’t want to stir up trouble, you didn’t want to get death threats from teenagers over Tom either, considering you don’t even know the type of person he is, considering you’re just going to hang out.

Tom: well I’m just not really in the mood to be swarmed on the street by paps and fans and stuff

Tom: unless you wanna go out then we can, it’s whatever

You: no, no id much rather that not happen, hasn’t really happened to me yet and I’d prefer it to stay that way

Tom: after this you’ll be so famous you won’t know what to do with yourself

You laugh to yourself, Randy glancing at you.

You: highly doubt I’ll be loved nearly as much as you are

Tom: nonsense

You: I’ll be at The Savoy hotel, you know it?

Tom: I can use google

You: idk I heard you were pretty bad with technology

Tom: you’re right, google and texting are the only two things I feel 100% sure I can do

“Miss Winters? We’re at the hotel. Your schedule for the next few days should be in your email. You have the rest of the day off though.”

You nod, time zones were messing with your head, “what time is it right now?”

“10am.”

“Thank you,” you say as you both get out of the car. You check into your room and thank Rick for your suitcase.

You toss your backpack and suitcase down before flopping onto the bed, checking your phone.

Tom: are you at the hotel now?

You: yea

Tom: ok

You checked out the room service food, realizing since you slept on your flight you were starving. You decide to order pizza even though it’s early, you called and they said they could get some delivered from a local shop. You check your phone and see that Tom texted you again.

Tom: on my way, what’s your room #

You: 413

Oh, he was already on his way, shit. You practically jump out of bed and open your suitcase. You know it shouldn’t matter what you wear. But you change out of your oversized sweatshirt into a plain white T-shirt, keeping your gym shorts on. You thank god that your job and press required you to shave. Because although you didn’t think anything would happen, you wanted to feel confident if it did.

You changed quickly and brushed your teeth, jumping back into bed. You grabbed your book, East of Eden, your favorite book, it’s had plenty of wear and tear since you’ve read it so many times but you couldn’t get rid of it or get yourself a new copy.

You picked up where you left off, the story of young Adam Trask and his brother Charles, arguably your favorite and the best part of the book, seeing the dynamic between the two of them, then seeing how Adam grows for the rest of the book.

The door rang as you finished the chapter. You set the book upside down and grabbed your wallet, you checked through the peephole to confirm it was your pizza, as if on cue your stomach was rumbling. You thanked the person and tipped them, the pizza charged to your room.

You settled back into your bed, about to open the pizza when your doorbell rang again. You got up and looked through the peephole.

Tom was standing outside your room, hands in the pockets of sweatpants he was wearing, paired with what looked like an oversized hoodie. Okay, maybe you weren’t underdressed previously. You opened the door, leaning against the frame.

“Hi spoiler king,” you grin.

“Nice to finally meet you spoiler queen.”

“Finally?”

“Yeah, been wanting to meet you since you started filming Black Widow.”

“Didn’t know you knew I existed until a few days ago.”

“Well, surprise,” he laughs, shrugging, “you gonna let me in or should we continue this conversation here?”

“Oh my god sorry I’m such an idiot, come on in,” you say, walking backwards into the room. You feel the heel of your foot hit the back of your suitcase and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Tom rushes forward and catches you, arm around your waist and pulling you back up.

“How in the world are you playing this super spy when you trip over a suitcase?”

You chuckle, blushing as he helps you steady yourself, nudging your suitcase to the side as he closes the door.

“I play a super spy in training thank you very much,” you say as his hand leaves your waist and you quietly miss the feeling of his hand there.

“Well, guess you’re excused then.”

“Do you, want some pizza?” You ask, sitting on the edge of your bed and opening the box.

“Little early for pizza,” he observes.

“Haven’t eaten, in, oh god I don’t even remember, since the night before I got on the plane to come here from LA?” You say, stomach rumbling.

“Then I think you should dig right into that pizza,” Tom says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Good plan,” you say, ignoring how awkward you feel and taking a bite of a slice. He grabs your book and reads the title.

“East of Eden, never read it before.”

“I mean I would act all offended because it’s my favorite book but I know that like not a lot of people who have read it. You should though, if you find the time.”

“Yeah this looks long and I’m way too dyslexic to read that without giving up halfway through.”

“Oh shit sorry I had no idea.”

“All good, kinda a running joke with my fans and people.”

“That you’re dyslexic?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, thumb running through the pages.

You finish your pizza, watching his face as he reads the description on the back of the book.

“Stole it from 10th grade English class when I first read it,” you say before picking up another slice.

“Solid,” he laughs, looking at the list of last names written on the front cover along with the year, “Don’t see your name here Sarah.”

“That’s cause I didn’t have a stage name till I auditioned for Black Widow, name’s Y/N, Y/L/N,” you say, pointing to the last name put in the book.

“Oh, well nice to meet you Y/N, do you prefer that over Sarah?”

“Honestly, yeah.”

“Well, Y/N it is.”

You’re silent, you eating your pizza, Tom flipping through your book, laugh at some of the notes you have written in it.

“Cool if I have a piece?” he asks, setting your book down.

“All yours,” you say, gesturing to the pizza box sitting between you.

“So Y/N, how did you enjoy working on the movie? It was your first movie right? Know you beat out some names for the role.”

“Yeah, guess so, don’t know why.”

“Because you were best for the role, obviously.”

“Don’t know why they’d choose a nobody over people like Chloe Grace Moretz,” you shrugged.

“Because you, they saw potential in you, they also love to cast new faces, make newer actors famous,” he says.

Your mind starts to race with reasons why they might’ve cast you and you start to doubt your ability as an actress, because you’ve done theatre, been the lead in shows in your town and region but never movies or TV shows.

“Hey you know, I think you’re quite talented from the clips we’ve seen in trailers.”

“Uh, thanks,” you say, hand rubbing your neck, why are you so fucking awkward?

“So what kinda dress will you be wearing?”

“Huh?”

“To the premiere, so we can match.”

“Oh yeah, yeah lemme send you a picture of it,” you say. You were wearing a pretty dark red dress with black lace adorning the bodice.

“Sweet I’ll see what I can do about getting a matching tie and stuff.”

“Cool, you know it’s nice of you to uh, be my date,” you say, fiddling with your hands.

“Yeah, you know, wanted to see if you’d give me a run of my money.”

“With what?”

“Spoiling stuff.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “don’t need to worry about that after the movie comes ou- FUCK.”

That definitely wasn’t something he should’ve heard.

You watch as he pieces what you just said together, “oh my god, hey even if that happens, well I think you’ve outdone me.”

“Listen at least I didn’t say that in front of a live audience or something.”

“What am I? A dead audience?”

“No, you’re just one person.”

“Ah that’s right, I don’t count.”

“Nope,” you say, tucking your legs underneath you.

You and Tom hang out and talk about filming, about the movie industry, about your favorite things, it felt like he learned everything about you in the time that you talked.

You stopped yourself a few times, apologizing for rambling.

“It’s fine, like to listen to you talk.”

At some point, you two had set the pizza box on the ground and were lying with your feet swinging off the edge of the bed.

“So, what about you? You excited for what’s to come for Spiderman?”

“Yeah, totally, I mean I want to branch out and do more movies, doing the voice stuff for Onward, the Pixar film; was really cool.”

“Have you done any auditions recently?”

“Some yeah, should hear about them soon.”

“That’s awesome. I honestly don’t know what I’m gonna do after this,” you groan, still unsure why you’re telling Tom any of this.

“Well did you enjoy your time on set? Did you enjoy acting in a film? Enjoy the people you worked with?”

“For the most part yeah,” you say, looking away.

“For the most part? Alright who do you hate? Which actor?”

“No, the actors are all great, I love them. Just, nah it’s stupid,” you sigh, because honestly you had no idea if what happened was weird, if it was out of the ordinary or if that’s just how it was.

“Nothing’s stupid, hey, I might be able to give you a tip to help deal with it.”

“Just, one of the ADs, Jack , he uh, he’d always hug me, like if I did a good job on a scene, he’d just like hug me really tight and uh, like sniff my hair, like press his face right into my hair and like not even ask me if he could hug me which I don’t know, I never stopped him from hugging me I just never hugged back but that’s stupid it’s a stupid thing to have a problem with.”

It’s quiet for a moment and you start to overthink and doubt yourself, doubt why you told him this story. Did Jack make you feel uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely but that’s just how it was, how you figured the industry worked.

“Did he do this in front of everyone?”

“Nah, just on my way back to my trailer or my hotel room or whatever.”

“Does Scarlett know?”

You sit up quickly, looking at him, “no, no she doesn’t. Nobody does it’s stupid I don’t know why I told you.”

“It’s not stupid Y/N, you know, if you want to talk to someone, you should. I can be that person if you want. But if you want you should tell someone higher up, they might be able to do something about it.”

“I don’t, it’s not worth it,” you sigh, laying back down.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Talking about this.”

“Don’t be.”

“Yeah?”

“Course, it’s just, I've seen a lot of people, young new people who don’t really have any idea of how this industry works, see them getting taken advantage of, whether it’s by asshole directors who don’t know how to teach young people, treat them like, I don’t know, like they’ve got some power over you.”

“Oh, well thanks I guess.”

There’s a very awkward tension now and you have literally no idea how to move past it.

“So now that you know all about me, what’s there to know about you?”

“Well, got three brothers, Harry and Sam are twins, and Paddy is a little younger than me. Got a dog, Tessa, she’s amazing, truly my favorite being on the planet.”

“God I wish I could have a dog, mom’s allergic.”

“You should meet Tessa sometime, she’s a sweetheart. Mum’s a photographer, dad does a bunch of stuff, comedy, writer, blogs, stuff like that.”

“I’d love that.”

You feel his hand brush against yours, meeting between your bodies.

“Oh, sorry,” he says as he feels your hand stiffen under his.

“No, it's just, why?”

“Why what?” He says as your hand holds his hand tightly.

“Why’d you do this?”

“How many times have I told ya Y/N.”

“Just, dunno why you’d care.”

“Can’t help it, I guess, you’re funny, at least from the interviews of you I’ve seen, and you’ve made me laugh bunch today.”

“Yeah counterbalance all the deep shit I told you.”

He laughs, thumb rubbing the skin of your hand, “see? Anyways, I should get going, supposed to have dinner with my brothers but I’ll see you later? Maybe we can hang out while you’re still in London, if you’re not busy being super famous and with press.”

“Yeah, we can always text too if I am. And I’ll see you at the premiere? You can always just not show up, never talk to me again if you don’t want to,” you say, watching as he gets up.

You follow him to the door and he turns to face you.

“Hmm, good offer but I don’t think I will.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I think it’ll be much more fun to be your date than ditch you, plus I already know what’s gonna happen in the movie so we can sit and be not surprised together.”

“Sorry I spoiled it for ya,” you say, blushing.

“You’re fine, it was nice to meet you Y/N, I’ll see you later,” he says, you don’t even realize your hand is still in his until he lets go, leaving you alone in your hotel room.

“What is wrong with me?” You groan, jumping back into your bed.

****

You and Tom text throughout the week, a lot actually. Sometimes he’ll ask you random questions about your family, about your favorite place to eat back in your hometown.

You’re in a dressing room, just about to go for an interview when he texts you.

Tom: I love learning all this stuff about you, just wish I could hear you talk about it in person

You: why’s that?

Tom: because, when you’re really passionate about something you talk like really animatedly and it’s really fun to watch

You blush, having no idea how to respond you leave your phone there before making your way to the interview.

****

You’re on your way to the premiere, the flight from London just as long and exhausting as the last. You didn’t have much time when you got to LA to relax, you could put your suitcase in your hotel room and go straight to the premiere where you would spend the rest of your time getting ready. People were doing your hair, makeup, helping you into your dress, it was going to be a whole ordeal. For now, you had an hour to yourself in your dressing room, to relax, to breath, whatever you wanted. Tom let you know he’d be there in two or so hours, he didn’t have as much prep as you had. Basically just had to put on clothes and his hair would take less than half the time yours would.

You were nervous, your first premiere, first red carpet or whatever, your mom wouldn’t be able to make it, she was working, always working, but she sent you her love.

You were laying on the couch in your dressing room, scrolling through your twitter feed when you heard a knock on the door. Maybe it was Tom, you got your hopes up a little. Frowning at your leggings and baggy sweatshirt, you didn’t want him to see you until you were all dressed up.

You reluctantly got off the couch, opening the door.

“Oh hi,” you say, as you see Jack standing in front of you.

“Hi,” He smiles, “Can I come in?”

“What?”

“Just wanted to talk to you, congratulate you,” he says and you reluctantly step back from the door, letting him in. He closes the door behind him and you sit down on the couch, setting your phone on the dressing room table. What you didn’t see or hear was the click of the lock as he locked your door.

“You’re going to be a star Sarah, I can make you great,” he says, sitting next to you. His leg was right against yours and you shift away, body pressed up against the side of the sofa until his leg wasn’t touching yours. You didn’t mind that he called you by your stage name, you preferred it actually. That way everything he said wasn’t really directed to you, at least you could pretend it wasn’t.

“You? Why would you be the one to make you great?” You frown, that’s your job, audition, get your name out there.

“I know people, they’ll cast you, like I convinced them to.”

“Huh?” “Saw something special,” he says, and you freeze when his hand rests on your shoulder, “could’ve cast anyone, any big name, but we chose you.” His hand moves to glide up your neck and cup your cheek and your mind is screaming at you, MOVE, SLAP HIM, RUN but you’ve slipped into panic mode, which for you meant you were frozen.

“Wanna make you Hollywood’s next leading lady,” He says, face so close to yours you can smell his very gross breath, your heart is beating out of your chest.

You’re trying to think of something, anything.

You remember something Tom had told you back in the hotel a week ago.

****

“Just, if he’s weird again, don’t just go along with it, push him away, tell him he’s a fucking coward, he doesn’t get to use his position of power over you.”

“I don’t know if that would work.”

“Just try it, okay? Just, don’t let him hold anything over your head.”

****

His lips are pressing against yours and that’s when you use all your strength, breaking from your panic to push him off you, hard enough that he ends up on the other end of the sofa as you jump up.

“Get up! Get out, now.”

****

Tom wanted to surprise you, so he arrived earlier than he said he would, your wrapped present in one hand, he found out where your dressing room would be and made his way to it, frowning when it was locked.

He was about to knock when he heard you, screaming.

“Get the fuck out!”

“Sarah, don’t do this, you’re going to regret this.”

“No, I won’t, I’ll only regret letting you be a fucking creep for this long.”

You and the AD are in a screaming match.

He tries to doorknob again, wanting to break it up before other people heard.

“Come here,” Tom hears the AD say before you yelp, and there’s a clattering and “I’ll blacklist you, no director will work with you. Fucking ungrateful.”

“If you don’t get out now, I will scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone what just happened.”

“Bitch.”

****

Jack approached you, “come here.” You backed up into the table as he grabbed your arm tightly, causing you to yelp before he presses his lips hard against yours. Your other hand picks up your phone and your knees connects with his crotch as he let’s go of you and stumbles back before slamming you against the mirror, making you cry out as a sharp pain radiates from your head.

“I’ll blacklist you, no director will work with you. Fucking ungrateful.”

“If you don’t get out now, I will scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone what just happened.”

“Bitch,” he mutters before unlocking the door, swinging it open.

You whimper, sliding down to the ground and gently touching the back of your head, tears welling up in your eyes as he slams the door shut behind him.

That’s not how you expected this to go down. Your eyes widen when you see a little blood on your fingers.

You vaguely hear a knock on the door but you ignore it, arms wrapped around your knees. What a great way to start your first premiere. You’re laughing as tears stream down your face, something that your mom always said was a bad habit of yours.

***

Tom hears the door unlock and he steps to the side, slipping into the hallway next to your dressing room.

“Fucking bitch, who does she think she is?” Jack mutters as he walks past Tom, not even noticing him.

Tom knocks on the door, hearing you crying hurt him, he hated hearing anyone cry. He heard you laughing, it was a laugh verging on hysterical and decided to go in and check on you, just in case.

***

“Y/N.”

You look up through watery eyes and see Tom standing in your doorway, a red gift bag in his hand, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” you say, head dropping back down as you cry.

He quickly closes the door behind him and kneels down next to you.

“Y/N, I, I heard, I’m so fucking sorry, I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but he’s gone now, are you okay? Shit question of course you’re not okay.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, trying your hardest to smile up at him.

“You don’t have to smile, Y/N.”

“What?”

“Don’t haveta smile for me, you can cry if you want.”

You sniffle, the tears slowly stopping.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, wincing as the pounding in your head brings you back to reality.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, eyes full of concern.

“Just, hit my head a little, it’s nothing,” you say, your hand instinctively reaching for the back of your head to check if it was still bleeding.

“What the fuck did he do to you?” He asks, seeing the blood on your fingers.

“Just shoved me, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, you’re bleeding, lemme get someone.”

“No, please Tom,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, pleading with him.

“Why don’t, why are you going to let this slide?”

“Because I can’t, he’s gonna, he’s gonna blacklist me, won’t get even a small cameo in a movie, he’s gonna ruin me.”

“Hey, no, he won’t, because you won’t let him. You stood up for yourself back there, I heard you. You won’t let him take away everything you’ve worked so hard for, and what you’ll continue to work hard for. Hey, let’s get some ice or something, clean up, see if you need to go to the hospital okay? Don’t want you passing out on me on your first premiere.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Not my story to tell, if you want to, when it’s time you can. There’ll be no pressure from me though,” he says as he helps you stand up. Your legs wobble a little bit and you’re afraid you’re going to fall but his arm is a comforting presence on your waist, steadying you. There’s no malintent in his touch as he soothes you, sitting you down on the couch.

You feel safe as he lets go, crouching down to open the small fridge, grabbing some ice from the freezer section.

“Here, turn around,” he says, nonchalantly ripping off a lower section of his shirt to wrap the ice in.

“Wh-,” you start, turning as his fingers sort through your hair.

“Just looks like a scrape, here,” he says, gently pressing his shirt with ice onto the area, hand rubbing your shoulder as you wince.

“Thank you,” you mumble, glancing at the bag he abandoned on the floor, “What’s that? Clothes all fit in there?”

He chuckles, “no, Issa present, for you, for your first premiere.”

“What? My, why's that, you already gave me a present you’re here with me.”

“Yeah but you deserve an actual present, here, hold the ice in place,” he says, palm over the top of your hand, moving it up to rest against the makeshift ice pack.

He reaches down and grabs the bag, pulling what looks like a wrapped book out of it.

“Was gonna give it to you little later but now’s perfect. Go ahead, open it,” he says, putting it on your lap and replacing your hand with his own on the ice pack.

You gently open the wrapping paper and gasp.

“This is, Tom you didn’t-,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do, I mean, this is, wow this is the best gift anyone could have ever gotten me.”

“Well you only have a first premiere once,” he says, searching your eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t haveta thank me darling, why don’t we get ready for tonight?”

“Will, do you think we’ll see Jack?”

“He’d be an idiot not to show up, but hey, maybe you won’t run into him.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say, wiping your eyes.

“What did the stylists say they were going to do with your hair?”

“Think it was just gonna be curled, nothing fancy.”

“Okay well when they get here we’ll tell them no curling that part of your head.”

“Well then I’ll just look stupid.”

“Nah, you’ve got plenty of hair to go around up here,” he laughs, fingers running through the hair resting on your shoulder.

***

“Sarah! Tom! Smile for us! Look at you two!”

Photographers are shouting at them from up and down the red carpet, as Tom and Sarah walk, his arm gently resting on her waist, hers around his shoulder.

“You look lovely,” he whispers into your ear as you continue to walk.

“Not as handsome as you.”

He’s been saying nice things, whispering them to you all night, found it was the best way to make you smile, especially after what happened with Jack. You never did see him on the red carpet that night and didn’t bother asking anyone where he might be either.

***

“Wow,” you say, collapsing on the bed of your hotel room next to Tom.

“Fun right?” He asks.

“I mean, I wasn’t expecting such reactions from the crowd.”

“Yeah? Movie premiere crowds are always the rowdiest. But hey, they cheered, they laughed, they cried, you made one hell of a movie.”

“Guess so, I’m proud of it,” you sigh, gently opening the first edition copy of East of Eden, “how did you even find this?”

“I’ve got connections,” he smiles, watching as your eyes scan the first page, so different from your tattered copy from 10th grade.

“My 10th grade English teacher would lose her mind if I told her I had this. Scared to read from it, just wanna put it in a glass case and stare at it.”

“Well, it’s all yours so you can do anything you want with it.”

“Can’t believe this is all happening.”

“What is?”

“Everything, been my dream since I was a kid, to be famous, and well, yeah,” you sigh, not quite finding the words you’re looking for.

“You know, it might be, like, don’t feel obligated to say yes but would you maybe wanna, I don’t know, go on a date? Not now obviously, I think I could fall asleep right here but I’d like to take you out on a proper date.”

“Yeah? I mean the entire world already thinks we’re dating so sure, I don’t think a public date would hurt or help our cause.”

“Great,” you yawn, turning on your side.

“I should go, so you can sleep,” he says, standing up.

“Stay,” you mumble against your pillow.

He doesn’t respond and your heart almost drops, assuming he’s going to leave. Instead, he crawls into the bed, his arm hesitantly resting on your waist, until you scoot so your back is flush against his chest.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, exhaling, for the first time in over a year and a half you truly felt safe and comfortable falling asleep.

[bennyboyjones]

THE GETAWAY (Ben Hardy FanFic) Chapter One

A/N: Hi! So, here is chapter one to my Ben Hardy  AU Fanfic! There are currently several chapters written, which you can find on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to also upload it here as well. It might be a bit behind, but you’ll still get all the chaps eventually.

What it is: basically, a girl from a small town who is bored of her life decides to take a trip to Nice where she runs into ben, who is also running away from some shit and some romance ensues.

Word count: 3.0k

in this chapter: she takes off bby

WATTPAD LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ AHEAD

Spotify playlist

In case you missed it: prologue

here we go:

chapter one

Tonight was my last night at work; I had been working doubles all week, trying to make as much money as I could to build up my almost non-existent cushion. Between what I had in my savings and my bonds, I had almost $10,000, but then I went shopping and was now sitting at about $8,000, which after the cost of everything, wasn’t much. 

I was in the middle of putting in order an for an older couple when Katie, one of my coworkers, came barreling into the service station. 

“I still cannot believe you’re going to France! Again! Meanwhile, I’m stuck here, seven months pregnant, having never been anywhere!” She threw her hands up and her blond hair flew around her small face. She was older, and shorter, married to her first boyfriend and in the middle of her nursing degree. Whenever I talked about where I’ve been, she always looked at me with amazement, telling me how lucky I was, how she could only dream of traveling anywhere. I always had to remind her that she could and that she should, but she always shook her head as if it would never be an option. “Are you all packed?”

I cringed, “No; I’m not prepared at all, actually. Three weeks goes by a lot quicker than I thought it would.”

“Well, you’re out of here in less than an hour. You better go straight home and get your shit together.” She patted me on the back before nudging me over to gain access to the small touch screen where we put in the orders. 

I looked at the floor from our little alcove; for a Sunday, we were pretty packed. There was only one table left open when half of the restaurant was usually empty at this time. I surveyed my section: an old couple, a group of twenty-somethings, a family of six, a couple of teenagers, and one sole older woman. They were all almost ready for their checks, and I silently prayed that they were all feeling generous—and that they all carried cash. I decided it was time to turn on the charm; I flipped my head over, fixed my long brown hair into a high pony-tail, making sure my curtain bangs weren’t swept up, retouched my light pink lipstick and shoved a smile on my face. I was about to walk back out into the dimly lit dining room when Katie grabbed my arm. 

“I just want to let you know that I told all of them you’re leaving for a big trip tomorrow and wouldn’t be working for a while. You know, trying to let them know you’re poor and could use the money,” she laughed. 

I shook my head and smiled, “I hope it worked.”

****

Katie did a great job. I walked into the house, counting my tips for the third time to make sure the number was right. I made way more than I expected to and added it to the envelope of cash I needed to deposit into my bank account before heading to the airport tomorrow. I ordered euros and also notified my bank I was traveling abroad, making sure I was covered on both fronts. I called a quick “hello” to my mom and my two brothers who were sat on the couch watching Food Network and ran up the stairs, very aware that it was already 10pm and I needed to leave for the airport at 10am, so I would have time to run the errands I needed to beforehand. 

After taking a quick shower, I sat myself down on my bedroom floor, piles of clothes around me and two empty suitcases on my bed. I had already collected my toiletries, shoved them into two ziplock bags and then inside a fabric toiletry bag to ensure zero leakage, right after getting out of the shower because I was terrified of forgetting something. I made an extremely thorough list of every outfit, every bathing suit, every pair of underwear, every book (yes, book), every piece of makeup, and the two notebooks and five specific pens I would be taking with me. Again, making sure I didn’t forget anything. I packed it all one by one, drawing a line through it on my list in red ink until everything was away and ready to go. I was sweating—my cheeks were flush, my heart racing, and slightly out of breath from running around my room lugging items back and forth. 

I was laid out, spread-eagle, on my bedroom floor, watching my ceiling fan spin around and around when my mom came in and leaned against the doorway. “I see you’re all packed up and ready to go.” 

“I think so. I hope so. I don’t know, I feel like I’m forgetting something.” I sat up and leaned back on my hands, my head turned around to face her. 

She tossed me a bag of five disposable cameras, “These. Don’t take your big camera. It’s too heavy and you already almost lost it once in London. That thing is an antique, best to leave it here.” She nodded towards my grandpa’s old Nikon film camera from the ‘80s. He gave it to me right before I left for London and had almost every picture I took there with it hung up on his walls. 

I tossed them into my second suitcase that was still half empty before getting up. I wrung my hands together in front of me and pulled at the strings of my hoodie, “I’m kind of nervous.” 

My mom came further into my room before putting her hands on my shoulders. “Look at me,” her brown eyes looked directly into mine, our faces almost identical, “You’ve done this before. You’re going to be fine. You can always call, or come home.” She laughed lightly before dropping her hands, “Do you need me to keep going? Because you’ve heard this speech before.”

“No, I’m good.” I pulled on my pony tail to tighten it and rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my palms. “Ugh, I don’t know why I’m so stressed out! It’s ridiculous!” 

“You know what you’re dad would say—“

“It doesn’t matter what he would say.” I cut her off and dropped my hands to my sides. “He’s not here.”

“Josie, we need—“

“You’re right, mom. I’ve done this before—successfully. I was fine the first time around, and that was for six months. Three weeks is nothing. Thank you for the pep talk, I needed it.” 

She grabbed at my hair, twirling the thick ponytail around her fingers, “You’re going to have an amazing time.”

“I know,” I sighed and pulled her into a hug, trying to fight off tears without sniffling. 

“I love you.” 

“Love you more.”

This morning was not going well—at all. First, I woke up to a phone call from Liam, my on and off again boyfriend of two long years. He was angry that I didn’t tell him about my trip and felt he was entitled to know of my whereabouts despite the fact that we were currently “off” and have been for the past two months. 

“Don’t go, Josie.” He pleaded. 

“I’m going. I’m literally leaving for the airport in an hour. How did you even know I was going?”

“The last time you did something like this you broke up with me.”

“Tried to,” I corrected him, “but you wouldn’t let me.”

“And now you’re going to go back to Europe and try to do it again! You’re going to hurt me again, just when I was ready to get back together!” 

I let out an irritated sigh, “Liam, I’m not doing this again. I’m not doing this anymore. I’ve been completely fine the last few weeks without you and I don’t need you. I’m going and I need you to leave me alone.” I ended the call as he began to reply. I couldn’t deal with him right now and I wasn’t going to let him ruin another trip for me. 

We met in my gen. ed. philosophy class sophomore year and have had a stressful relationship ever since. We pretty much broke up every summer and every break, making it more of a relationship of convenience and comfort. I figured that when I was leaving for my exchange program last year that we would break up, but when I tried to talk to him about it he broke down crying about how I was the love of his life and he didn’t want to be apart while I was away and I caved. I tried again halfway through my time there, but he guilted me into staying; he said it wasn’t fair to break up with someone who you haven’t seen in months, and how could I know I didn’t love him anymore when we had been apart for so long. 

When I came home, I was so adamant about ending it, but then dad was gone and I needed the familiarity, the easiness, the comfort again and now we were stuck in our old cycle that I needed to desperately get away from. 

Second, I got another rejection e-mail from another publishing company—granted this rejection came a month late since internships had already started and I knew I was obviously not getting a spot, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel the blow to my ego. 

I didn’t regret my choice of becoming a writing major—at all—it’s what made me happy and it also came with so many career choices; I chose to be an editor, or was trying to anyway, but publishing is competitive and I had zero connections, so every spring, summer, fall, and winter, all I got were rejections and I was growing tired of the disappointment. 

But I was leaving today and couldn’t let anything get me down—I just couldn’t. After I showered and threw on a white t-shirt and a pair of blue straight leg jeans, I started getting last minute items in order: my carryon, with emergency clothes (my luggage has gone missing before), my notebook, my camera, headphones, locket, passport, phone charger, etc. Once everything was completely packed, I sat on my bedroom floor, knees pulled up to my chest and simply stared at the pile of luggage before me. 

I was overwhelmed; I could feel the knot in my stomach twisting, the dryness in my throat, and the tears that were locked behind my eyes. For the past three weeks, this trip seemed so abstract, so far away it couldn’t be real—but now I had no choice but to acknowledge how very real it was. 

As I put on my tan blazer, my white sneakers, packed my stuff into the car with my mom, went to the bank,  and drove to the airport, my brother’s asking me loads of questions from the backseat, all I could think was that I would be fine. I had to keep reminding myself that I’ve done this before, that I could handle myself and that I knew what I was doing. By time we made it to JFK, I felt so stupid; I was making such a big deal over nothing. It was just a trip—but my anxiety would not let up. 

“I know that look on your face,” my mom said as we stood in front of security. “You need to stop with the stress. You’re going to ruin this for yourself.”

“Yeah,” I let out a breath it felt like I’d been holding since I woke up this morning, “I know.” I looked at the time. “I think I need to go.”

My mom pulled me into a hug and kissed me on the cheek before giving me one last secret pep talk and telling me she loved me. I hugged Noah and ignored his comments about the contagious promiscuity of the French. My youngest brother, Oliver hugged me the tightest, “Be careful, okay? You’re the only sister I have so don’t do anything stupid while you’re over there.” 

“It’s just three weeks, it’ll be like I never even left.”

“That’s three weeks of torture from Noah without you there to back me up! I might not even be alive by time you get back!” 

I laughed lightly and pulled him in for another hug. Despite the six year age difference, we were extremely close and I knew I would miss him the most during my trip. After saying goodbye for a second time, I got on line for security. 

It didn’t take too long to get through; for once, my carryon didn’t need to be rifled through because I actually packed correctly this time around and my gate was only a few minutes walk away. I took a seat close to the podium so I could hear every announcement clearly and pulled out my phone and started replying to texts from my friends telling me to have a great time. 

Despite spending a lot of time in the city, I spent a lot of time alone. Between classes, homework, and working I didn’t have a lot of time for a social life, but I did have one—a small one, but it still counted. I only had a few friends and I was fine with that, I didn’t need a big group—the only problem was two of my friends lived in the city permanently, two lived out of state and my best friend from home went to school way upstate, like twenty minutes away from Canada upstate, so we didn’t see each other often. 

After replying, I pulled up both of my boarding passes on my phone. I had layover in London and kept reading over the time in between flights, worried if my first one got delayed, worried if they were on opposite sides of the airport. There was always so much that could go wrong. What if I somehow went to the wrong gate? What if my gate was changed and I missed it? Inside, I knew I was too much of a control freak and worry-wart to allow any of these things to happen, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t obsessively think about them and give myself a headache. 

Finally, my flight started boarding and thankfully, I was in the first group. I found my aisle seat and plopped down after placing my duffel bag in the overhead bin and tossing my purse under the seat in front of me. After another thirty minutes of everyone getting on, having to get up twice to let the other people in my row in (thankfully no children, just a middle-aged couple), we were finally ready to take off. I popped some gum into my mouth, pulled my seat belt tighter and leaned back hoping I wouldn’t get the rollercoaster feeling in my stomach that often happened during take-offs. 

The seven hours to London was easy, it was the layover that was tough. Three hours of sitting around waiting for my second flight, exhausted and just wanting to be there already. It’s crazy how easily a long layover can break a person. I called my mom, letting her know my first flight was a success and then tried to text my friends but they were all out partying despite it being a Monday. I ended up settling for finishing my book, which wasn’t necessarily travel material—it was slightly dark and deep, as a Morrison usually is. 

By time my final flight was called, I was over the entire ordeal and in an awful mood. I was waiting for my group to be called when some guy tapped me on the shoulder, “Please tell me this is the flight to Nice.” He was American, looked around my age, early twenties, with brown hair and green eyes. He was tall and slim and so out of breath. I nodded. “Thank god,” he said, “my first flight was delayed. I was worried I missed it.”

“Well, you didn’t.” 

“You’re American!” he smiled and pointed a finger at me. 

“Yes, you’re very observant.” The last group was called and I went to get on line, the guy trailing behind me. 

“I’m Eric,” he said while holding his hand out for a shake, “I’m going to visit family.”

I stared at his outstretched hand before deciding it wouldn’t kill me to be polite, “That’s nice. I’m Josie.”

I turned away and handed both my passport and my phone to the attendant before making my way through the jetway. My seat was all the way at the back of the plane and so there was a lot of stopping and waiting for people to situate themselves before I could take my, yet again, aisle seat. I leaned forward with my head in my hands and started rubbing my temples. It was 8:30 am London time, meaning my body should be asleep. All I needed was these next two hours for a power nap, that’s all, because I refused to spend my first day in Nice unconscious. 

“Wow, what are the odds!” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled under my breath without looking up. 

“You’re an aisle-seater too, huh? I can’t sit in any other seat. It gets too cramped and I have long legs so I need the aisle space.”

They announced we would be getting ready to take-off and I noticed that no one had sat next to me and took the opportunity to slide over, putting as much distance between me and enthusiastic Eric as I possibly could. 

I tried to sleep, I really did, but every few minutes, just as I was about to finally doze off, Eric would ask another question: “Where are you staying?” “What brings you to Nice?” “Are you alone?” “Where are you from?” My only response was that I didn’t feel comfortable sharing that kind of information with a stranger but he wouldn’t take the hint. Instead, he took my non-interest as an opportunity to ask for my contact information so we could possibly “grab a coffee or a bite or whatever”. I told him that I didn’t give my information out to strangers again and so he carefully wrote his number and instagram handle out on a paper napkin and held it out to me. 

I took it, unenthusiastically and politely smiled. I shoved it into my purse just as the flight attendant announced we were getting ready to land. A few short moments later, her voice rang out over the loud speaker, “Welcome to Nice!”

[sugasgrowl]

✨Check Up Tag✨

A Meme to Gauge Your Cabin Fever

I was tagged by the wonderful @dark-muse-iris! Thank you so much for thinking of me!

How has your day been?

Well I’ve had a somewhat productive day? Somewhat. I got up about ten minutes before my Korean class at was supposed to meet on Zoom (10am) and then struggled through the lesson because I hadn’t had any form of caffeine yet. Then I cleaned my room and changed my sheets and promptly went back to sleep from like 12-4:30....I think I just figured out why my sleep schedule is so fucked. And then I had to post a discussion response online for one of my African American studies classes, and Imma be real with you chief, I ain’t read jack shit for that class since everything moved online. Oops. For the rest of the day, I’ll be working on NaNoWriMo (I’m ahead of schedule right now which makes me super happy even though I technically cut the goal from 50k to 20k) and debating on whether or not I should eat like shit again today or choose to better myself as a slug of a human being. 

What was the last thing that made you smile?

Honestly I don’t know...I’m sure it was some tiktok because that’s where my trashy ass resides and posts. 

Oh also I’ve been laughing at myself because a couple days ago I lost my mind and cut quarantine bangs that ultimately ended up too short because my hair curled WAY more than I expected it to. Oops. So the selfies at the end of this are from like a week or two ago because I’ve caught a case of the ugly.

What’s keeping you entertained these days?

tiktok. Watching and posting them. I made a tiktok last night about why Namjoon is the sexiest man on Earth and as of right now 21.8k people have watched, and the thirsty and lovestruck comments are pouring in. (For Joon. Not for me. Remember, I am a slug.) So that’s fun.

Writing. It’s been really fun to write again! Last year I put so much pressure on myself to finish the entire suggested 50k goal, but cutting it down this year has helped my mental state SO much. The story I’ve been working on is Duplicitous, which was at about 54k total words when I started April 4th and the end goal for the month is 75k. I’m about halfway done with chapter 5 and I’m second guessing my ability to write heart-wrenching emotion. I’ll probably send it to my friends once I’m done with this particular scene and see if people have dry eyes afterwards. If yes, it’s not done. 

My parents. I’m someone who is blessed with a very close bond to my mom and stepdad, and we’ve been watching a lot of movies together. My mom mentioned yesterday that she wants us to start having game night, and I’m actually really excited for that because sitting around doing nothing is about to drive me crazy. My mom also recently downloaded tiktok so we’ve started showing each other the ones that make us laugh. 

Work. Unfortunately, I’m ~essential~ so I still go to work 4-5 days a week. I work at my Papa’s restaurant and he had to shut down the lobby, so now it’s just drive through only. What’s funny is since Mississippi’s shelter in place, we’ve only gotten busier. There’s hardly a time now when cars aren’t lined onto the highway waiting for food and it’s so infuriating because I’m a firm believer that going through a drive through is not social distancing. 

My cat. Norman is a very good boy and I love getting to spend time with him

If you are in some sort of quarantine/self-isolation, is there anything you’d like to achieve in this time?

We’re finishing up month one here in Mississippi!

I’d like to start eating healthy again, but working at a fast food place makes that incredibly difficult (especially since I have the willpower of jello)

I want to save up some money. Some for a tattoo or two, and some just to have some money saved.

I want to write up an official big girl resume and cover letter so that I can send them in to Korvia and start applying to teach overseas. 

I would like to start my Youtube channel after years of saying I was going to do it, but I feel really awkward doing that because our house is really small and I don’t like my parents hearing me because my 100% unfiltered personality is not exactly pure and wholesome lmaoooo My mother doesn’t know the extent of how often I say the Fuck word. (Also I’m really hard on myself and I feel like I’m not actually funny so I think subconsciously I’m like “I can wait I can wait, it won’t get views anyway” which is a totally unproductive way of thinking)

BITCH I WANNA BE DONE WITH SCHOOL. I’m so tired of it. Graduation for my college has been pushed back to an undecided date, and honestly I’d be perfectly happy with just getting my diploma in the mail. But my Papa has paid for a lot of my schooling, and I think he wants to see my walk across the stage. Thankfully the semester ends for me after the first week of May when I finish finals. 

Post a selfie! (if you want) -

I tag @prolixitae @taehyungforreal @kpopfanfictrash @ditzymax @btssavedmylifeblr @hoseoksyn

[bymoonchild]

Get You The Moon (M) (Preview)

[edit 28/5/19]: full fic here

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, Enemies to Lovers!AU, Jock!Taehyung x Student Reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, locker sex, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, light degradation Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. You expect pure torment during the whole week of following him around, but this might just stir up conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Est. release date | Mid May (after my exams!)

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that bitingly fake enthusiasm and mirthful nuance that is too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have long become an inside joke between the two of you due to your mutual peculiar sense of humour.

The first thing Yoongi does upon entering the newsroom is to make a beeline for his first cup of coffee, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his infinite list of snarky remarks – about work, about being tired, about being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, about the negative sides of capitalism and what not.  

“Not for long, buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and landing your eyes on Yoongi who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it’ll be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

The edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter slash best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. Since we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress—”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing at the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack.”

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” he grins, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

The poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys. Of blindingly attractive but dumb jocks.

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (you can’t deny that he has a darn symmetrical face ), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), and 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone).

“What the fuck!”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes and ignore how the other reporters in the newsroom jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst. “You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you for this story. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – you have some classes with him right? Observe how he is in class, then what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

He tempts with a sneer that is all malign, a wicked 180 change from his previous expression. Panic forms a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world – you can’t choose your beats. You go out there and come back with a story or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your teeth, “But for the sake of my GPA and this newspaper that is my god damn baby, I will unwillingly take up the task… But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes. “Tae? You guys bros?”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “I’m surprised that you weren’t aware, but we’re actually really good bros. Oh right, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you on Monday.”

Nose scrunched up in distaste, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping him off and burying your head in your palms.

As much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA, pride and Kim Taehyung be damned. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

aannd that’s the intro of the fic! i wanted to establish the dynamics of yoongi and oc’s friendship first before we dive into the juicy parts, but i can assure that it’s gonna be a wild,,, sinful ride,,, uwu (just look at the warnings – they Slap!) 

my ask and message boxes are always open, hmu if you want to scream about stuff or let me know what you think about the fic! (i love receiving asks,, i’m: lub you) 

oh yess,,, the title is actually a song by kina (ft snow), go check it out!!! now i’ll just... retreat back to my endless pile of assignments..... 

[fireslostchild]

Guess what, all the questions please and thank you

Revenge like this. Hahah And don’t feel so bad. It’s a much needed distraction right now, so thank you.

Planets

Mercury: What’s your full name?

Jaeyoung Park. Holy fuck I almost typed my old last name...Fuck me.

Venus: What’s your first language?

English and Finnish. I kinda learned them at the same time. I can’t even tell you what language I spoke most growing up.

Earth: Where’s your home?

It’s always going to be Helsinki, though right now my home is Yokohama.

Mars: What’s your sexuality?

Like...90% straight. I’ve never had experiences with another woman to say for certain with confidence that I’m not into them.

Jupiter: Do you have any siblings?

Not that I KNOW of. But the possibility exists.

Saturn: Any pets?

My outdoor kitty. He’s an orange butterball and so adorable and sweet.

Uranus: What’s your hobby?

Cooking.

Neptune: When’s your birthday?

November 12th, 1988.

Pluto: What time is it right now where you are?

Just after 10am.

Moon: What are you currently studying/hope to study?

I want to study another language, I just can’t decide which language.

Stars

Sun: Have you ever had alcohol?

Too much.

Sirius: Have you ever failed a class?

Nope. Never even came close.

Rigel: Have you ever gone on a rollercoaster?

Once.

Deneb: Have you ever been out of your home country?

A few times, yes.

Arcturus: Have you cried out of something other than sadness?

Yes. When my son was born, I cried out of happiness. 

Betelgeuse: What’s something you can never forget about?

What my mom put herself through to raise me.

Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about?

Cultural and historical preservation.

Canopus: Have you ever broken a bone?

Unfortunately, I’ve broken my leg once. I’ve definitely had a few broken ribs before, and a broken nose.

Bellatrix: Have you ever been forced to lie/keep a secret?

I have...

Alphard: Have you ever lost a friend?

Too many.

Vega: What’s something you’ve done that you wish you hadn’t?

This one’s hard. I’ve done a lot of stuff that I could easily say ‘I wish I hadn’t’, but then I also realize that those things led me to where I am and I don’t regret where I am.

Constellations

Centaurus: Favourite holiday?

Halloween. So many different customs depending on where you are and it’s so cool. Even with the fact that it’s original intentions seem mostly forgotten.

Orion: Favourite month?

Hm...I guess November, because it’s getting really cold and my birthday.

Cassiopeia: Favourite book?

The Heroin Diaries.

Delphinus: Favourite study?

History.

Hercules: Favourite instrument?

Guitar.

Gemini: Favourite song?

...I don’t even know anymore.

Pegasus: Favourite place to be?

Surrounded by snow. Hopefully in an igloo that I’ve helped build. Though I guess if I need to be specific, Northern Finland. As close to the arctic circle as I can survive.

Libra: Favourite colour?

Pink!

Phoenix: Favourite thing to wear?

My really old ass band shirts that are practically family heirlooms. Hahah Seriously, I think some of them were old when my mom first got them.

Aries: Favourite movie?

The Shining comes to mind, but there’s a few movies I really like. I’m just not going to spend forever dwelling on it right now. Hahah

Cygnus: Favourite weather?

SNOW!!!!!!!! Or when it’s really cold and raining.

Hydra: Favourite sound?

My lover’s heartbeat.

Galaxies

Milky Way: Who’s your oldest friend?  

Jussi. He and I practically grew up together.

Andromeda: Do you consider yourself social?

Not as much anymore.

Black Eye Galaxy: Do you believe in love at first sight?

Not at first sight, but first conversation is definitely possible.

Cartwheel Galaxy: When was your first kiss?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

Cigar Galaxy: How’s your flirting skills?

Fucking shit. I rely on my body when I try to flirt, honestly. It’s the advantage of boobs and a good bra.

Comet Galaxy: Have you ever had to leave a relationship because someone changed too much?

Yes. And I endured much more than I ever should have, and ever will again.

Pinwheel Galaxy: Would you date the last person you talked to?

No. It seems like we’re both happily taken, so yeah.

Sombrero Galaxy: Do you have a crush right now?

On my boyfriend.

Bode’s Galaxy: Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Not that I know of.

Sunflower Galaxy: Would you date/make friends with someone out of pity?

No. That’s just fucked up to do if you don’t intend on establishing an actual connection to create at least a genuine friendship.

Tadpole Galaxy: Would you deny a relationship/friendship?

I would, if there were good reasons.

Whirlpool Galaxy: Have you ever cried over a breakup?

Oh of course. I’m an all or nothing kind of person, and so it hurts deeply.

Other Stuff

Comet: What’s your big dream?

To be a wonderful wife and mother.

Asteroid: What does your dream life look like?

Me and Gordon and Aleksi, and hopefully another child or two. I focus more on having my family than what I’m actually doing as a whole.

Meteor: What’s something you wish you could tell, but can’t?

WELL. What makes you think I’m going to tell here?!

Nebula: If you could undo one thing in your life, what would it be?

This is similar to another question, and it’s the same answer. I wouldn’t undo anything, because it all led me here. The good and the bad.

Shooting Star: If you could bring back one thing, what would it be?

My mother.

Pulsar: What do you hope to do in the next 10 years?

Have another child, learn another language, and maybe finally get a degree in history like I keep talking about.

Supernova: What’s one thing you want to do before you die?

There’s a lot. I wanna eat Fugu, but that’s quite realistic. I mean, I guess everything is somehow realistic? I wanna meet Nikki Sixx. I also want to learn the drums.

Quasar: If you could spend the rest of your life with only one person, who would it be?

If it has to be literal, to the question, Aleksi. If it’s like more figurative, Gordon.

Wormhole: What’s something you wish would happen, but know won’t?

My mom walking through my front door.

Black Hole: What’s the last thing you want to see?

...I’m a little confused. I guess, if we mean the dread and fear sense, my ex husband. If like ‘oh you’re dying’, then my son.

[niall-is-my-dream]

Lost Without You - Part Three

3260 words

Friday morning was your chance to lie in. You worked at the pub on Thursday night's and, with no classes today, this was your one morning to be lazy.

Unfortunately, you were rudely awoken by Jess and Hannah knocking on your door at 10am. They both had an early 8am lecture on Fridays so would sometimes call by yours with breakfast on their way home. Plus you'd not spoken to them since you'd been out with Niall and knew they'd be desperate to hear what happened.

They knocked again louder this time and you giggled to yourself as you got out of bed and tied your hair up.

"Good morning!" Jess said rather too enthusiastically.

"Good morning to you." You smiled back.

Hannah gave you a hug before taking off her shoes and getting into your bed and opening her pastry bag.

"Go right ahead!" You laughed before excusing yourself to the loo.

When you got back Jess had joined Hannah in your bed and was tucking into her pastry too.

"Did you bring me anything?" You asked as you switched on the kettle.

"Of course! But you only get it once you've made the tea and told us the gossip." Hannah replied.

"How about I eat it while I tell you?!" 

"Go on then, but make the tea first."

With no room left in your bed thanks to the girls, you pulled up your arm chair and sat down, propping your feet up on the edge of the bed. Both girls were eyeing you up over their mugs of tea.

"Ok, so it was a date." You said trying not to grin too much.

"Told you!" Hannah said.

You launched into the story of the evening, including every detail that you could remember. Jess nearly died when you told her about meeting Conor O'Donohoe.

"You're kidding me?! You lucky bitch. Bet he smelt amazing."

"He did actually." You replied smugly.

"So, did Niall kiss you at the end of the night?" Hannah asked.

You paused for a moment, not knowing if you should share the amazing good night kiss you'd had at your door.

"Um....."

"Its ok, neither of us have any friends other than each other so we have no one to tell!" Hannah said reassuringly.

That was true, the three of you were really close and didn't tend to hang out with anyone else. You were close to Jasper and Luke who you worked with at the bar but you wouldn't share this kind of stuff with them.

"It was the best kiss I've ever had." You admitted.

Jess squealed and clapped her hands like an idiot while Hannah asked more questions. It mimicked the scene in friends when Rachel tells Phoebe and Monica about her kiss with Ross. Where the girls turn off their phones, grab the wine and ask if they need tissues.

By the time you had finished the story you found yourself desperate to see him. Telling them about the kiss, had brought all your emotions from the last few days back and your heart ached knowing you didn't know when you would see him next.

"Hey, why the sad face? You said the kiss was amazing." Hannah asked.

"It was, but I have no idea when I'll see him again. He's going away on Sunday for like three weeks."

"Ah that's shit." Jess said.

"Has he messaged you?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah, which makes it worse I think. I really like him, we got on so well even after one date."

"Just keep texting and playing it cool. Text him while he's away asking about his day and stuff. But don't come on too strong, then hopefully you can see each other when he gets back." Jess replied.

"Jeez Jess, where did that incredibly good advice come from?" Hannah said.

It wasn't that Jess was ditzy or anything but she was really bubbly and outgoing and quite often just thought with her heart and not with her head.

"Just think you shouldn't worry too much about it, he obviously likes you a lot but it's probably difficult for him being away from friends and family. Getting involved with someone is probably scary considering how much he travels."

"Where is this coming from Jess?!" You laughed.

"I have no idea." She replied. "Maybe university has made me smart!"

___________

After the girls had gone home, you did some chores before binge watching Netflix and taking a nap. You arrived at the pub at 5pm and got the place set up for a busy shift. Tonight was a karaoke night and with help from Jasper you set up the sound system you would need and placed the laptop to control it on the end of the bar.

People slowly began to fill the bar and at 7:30pm the music had started and some girls celebrating a birthday started belting out some tunes on the karaoke machine.

You did a double take when you saw him enter the pub, closely followed by his brother.

"Evening Emma, my darling girl! How are you?"

"Deo Devine, twice in one week?! I'm so lucky!" You joked.

 "That you are!" He replied.

You greeted Willie before asking them what you could get them.

 "Three pints of Guinness please?" Willie answered.

 "Three?" You questioned.

 "Yeah, Niall is out the front taking a selfie with some fans."

 "Ah ok." You replied trying to sound casual.

You were desperately trying to stop your hands from shaking and from the massive grin to slide over your face, so you started some casual chit chat with the boys. Just what they'd been up to the last couple of days, work etc.

When you turned around after getting their change from the till, Niall was there. He took his seat on the bar stool next to Willie and gave you a smile that made your knees go weak.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi."

Both of you just smiled at each other before Deo broke the silence.

"Good God you two, get a room!" He laughed.

"Shut up!" You replied smiling, before leaning over the bar and whacking his head playfully.

"Actually, I do need to talk to you about something in private." Niall said.

Oh.

"Yeah yeah." Deo pitched in.

You told him to follow you as you made your way down the corridor that you first met him in. Unlocking the office you walked in, allowing him to pass before shutting it. His hands were on your hips as soon as you turned around and he pressed your back against the closed door, a cheeky grin on his face.

 "Hi." He said, his face inches from yours.

 "Hi again." You smiled.

When he pressed his lips to yours you couldn't help but reach up for his hair like last time. The moans he had omitted when you'd tugged on it as you'd kissed each other was something that you'd been dreaming about.

His tongue teased at your lips, waiting for you to allow him in and you happily obliged. His hands were wandering around your waist, squeezing at your hips and around your bum. When you pulled away you were both left panting, foreheads resting against each other.

"Been thinking about doing that for the last two days." He whispered breathlessly.

"Me too." You whispered back.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asked. 

"I have work 9-5."

"Can I see you tomorrow night then or are you busy?"

"I was busy, but after a kiss like that I'll cancel my plans." You smirked.

His face matched yours as he leaned down and kissed you again.

___________

Why is it that the day always goes super slow when you have plans you're looking forward to?

You felt like you'd already done your 8 hour shift and it wasn't even noon yet. The thought that in 8 hours time you'd get to kiss him again was what was driving you to keep busy to try and make the day go faster.

After your kiss in the office or should you say kisses considering you'd gone to leave 3 times but just kept kissing each other, you had appeared back at the bar. Deo had given you a wink as if he knew what you'd been up to, but then again it was pretty obvious as your face was flushed and Niall's hair wasn't as neat.

"What is with you today?" Audrey asked. "You seem really distracted."

"I'm sorry Audrey." You said letting out a sigh.

"I'm assuming it's a young man, maybe the one who sent the flowers and the one who sat drinking his coffee for an hour while making doe eyes at you the whole time."

"What?" 

"That gorgeous young man from last week couldn't stop staring at you. Whenever you looked over he pretended he was looking at his phone. What a sweetheart."

"Was he?" You asked her surprised by what she had said.

"Yeah, was so sweet. So, is it him?"

"Yes, we went out Wednesday and I'm seeing him again tonight but the time is going so damn slow!" You laughed.

"Well its almost the lunchtime rush, so that'll make it go quickly." She replied as she patted you on the shoulder and went to clear a table.

And it did.

The Cosy Corner Coffee shop had been busy from the lunchtime rush followed by afternoon tea. When 5pm came around Margaret, who had taken over from Audrey at 2 o'clock, ushered you out the door with orders that Audrey had told her that you were not to stay a minute later than 5pm.

You headed back to your dorm room and stripped off before taking a shower and getting ready. Niall had asked if he could bring take out to yours and to maybe watch a film. So you dressed in leggings and a fitted tee, and kept your make up to the minimum again.

When you looked around your room you realised how messy it was and began tidying up, stacking up papers on your desk before making a start on the dishes, changing your bed and emptying the bin. You didn't think your room had been this tidy since you'd moved in, and you laughed at yourself thinking that Niall wouldn't give a shit how tidy the room was.

God you were nervous and excited.

At 7:05pm your phone beeped.

"Just left the Chinese, will be five minutes x"

"Ok see you soon x"

Just enough time for you to have a nervous wee and to fret about your outfit choice. Great.

You buzzed him in when he arrived and waited by the main door that lead to the rooms. This place was nothing if not secure, although Jess and Hannah had keys to the main two doors still which was a bit dodgy to be fair.

You two disappeared into your room quickly to avoid being seen since people were coming and going from each others rooms before their nights out. Niall placed the food on the counter of your kitchenette before turning around to face you. He reached out his hands to pull you by your t-shirt to him, a stupidly big smirk on his face.

"Hi." He whispered against your lips.

"Hi." You managed to whisper back.

You didn't think you'd ever get tired of kissing Niall. He was just, well you couldn't even describe how he made you feel. The way he tasted, smelt and held you made your head spin. Getting to know what he liked was one of the best things, like the hair tugging as you deepened the kiss. Pulling lightly with your teeth on his bottom lip to get him to make that sweet little whine was just perfection to you.

"Fuck, I could kiss you forever." He mumbled before kissing you again.

When he finally pulled away you couldn't help but gaze at his swollen plump lips knowing that you were the one to make him react like that. His face was flushed and his hair a mess, but he had never looked sexier. You had no idea how long these encounters with him would happen for, so you were going to enjoy them for a long as you could.

Setting yourself up in your arm chair and Niall at your desk, you both devoured the Chinese Niall had brought. With a glass of wine for you and a beer for him, you both sat facing your window that overlooked the park.

"Heard anything about the internships yet? Niall asked.

 "Not yet, no. Closing date for one of them was yesterday so I'm sure I'll hear next week if I have an interview or not. The other two jobs not a for a few weeks yet."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement before taking a sip of his beer.

"I've been looking into finding a flat though."

"Still around here?"

"Yeah, because I'll still work for Audrey and at the pub if none of the applications were good enough and until I find a more permanent position.  Depends on where the job is to as to whether I stay around here long term I suppose, and on what the pay is like. I know I'll only be able to afford a small studio flat, but I'm hoping it will have room for a dining table."

 "How long is the internship for?"

"The one in Rome is only two months and the one in Paris was 3/4 months I think."

He stayed quiet then, like he was mulling things over in his head. He didn't share his thoughts though and you carried on talking about finding a flat.

With dinner cleared away you set up your laptop ready for the film. Sitting up against the head of your bed, you curled your body towards his as you watched your Hugh Grant rom com. Niall was warm and cosy and you loved the way he wrapped his arms around you. Leaving kisses on the top of your head very so often, the gentle feeling of his fingers stroking up and down your arm.

The sound of a siren in the distance woke you up and you opened your eyes to find yourself curled up with a sleeping Niall, your laptop screen black where it had gone on to standby. You stayed still for a minute watching him sleep, his mouth slightly opened, his breathing low. The sky outside was dark, the sun having already set across the park.

"Niall." You whispered.

"Hmmm."

"Niall, we fell asleep. It's past midnight."

His eyes opened then, a cute sleepy look on his face.

"I'm going to change, do you want to stay the rest of the night?"

"Mmm yeah, might as well." He replied.

You made your way to your chest of drawers and grabbed some cotton shorts and a vest top.

"I'll just be a minute." You whispered although you weren't sure why.

Quickly using the loo and changing you were soon making your way back into your room. Niall had got up and was drinking some water from a glass when you walked in. Offering a glass to you too, you thanked him before taking a sip.

"I'll just nip to loo." He said and off he went.

When he came back a minute later you had already got back into bed, your laptop closed and sitting on your desk.

"Um is it ok if I sleep in just boxers?" He asked nervously.

You smiled as you said yes and he asked you what you found funny.

"You're so cute when you get all nervous around me."

"Shut up." He joked with you.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head then and laid it across the back of your desk chair. You knew you were staring, watching as his back muscles tensed as he stretched to reach the chair. His body was clear of any tattoos and he had hair across his chest that lead down his stomach and into a little happy trail. You held in a breath as he undid his jeans, and moved to put them with his t-shirt.

"You staring at me is making me even more nervous."

"Just enjoying the view, is that a crime?!"

 "It is when I didn't get to enjoy any view!" He said with a smirk, his nervousness disappearing.

You blushed and bit your lip, hiding your own smirk.

"Well, I didn't did I?!" He said as he crawled up the bed. "Although those stripey little pink shorts are very sexy by the way!"

"Yeah, you like them?" You said.

"Mmm I do." He replied as he leaned down to kiss you.

You hadn't intended on asking Niall to stay the night when he had turned up earlier. But after falling asleep and it being past midnight, you thought it seemed silly to make him get an uber when he was half asleep. However, neither of you were sleeping now and it didn't look like you would be for while.

Scrambling to move the covers off of you and have his chest touch yours, Niall smiled against your mouth at your eagerness. He reached down and pulled them off before moving to hover over you again. It was embarrassing really how turned on you were just by one kiss. You were desperately trying to hold back the moan but when he began kissing and nibbling at your neck right on that sweet spot you couldn't help it. Especially when you could feel a certain something hard against your thigh.

His lips travelled down your neck and found your chest, he kissed between the valley of your breasts and then brought his face up to yours. Foreheads resting against the other as he quietly whispered "I wanna make you feel so good."

And he did.

Your hands were clutching the bed sheets for dear life as his tongue moved across your clit faster at each lick. You moved your hands to grab his hair, he brought his face up from between your thighs, mumbling how much he wanted you to tug his hair. 

As you could feel your release building, it felt like you weren't even in control of your own body and you began lifting your hips. His free hand was pushing against your thigh, keeping your legs open for him as you moved to close them around his head.

And then you were there.

Wave upon wave of pleasure coarsed through you. You couldn't even speak properly as you began panting out his name. His mouth didn't stop throughout your orgasm as he kept licking and sucking at your clit until you had to pull on his hair to get him to stop.

"Fuck." You mumbled.

Moving to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, he was smirking as he made his way back up to you.

"You ok?" He whispered as he kissed across your chest.

"No. I think I might've died."

"Well, I'm not sorry. You taste fucking amazing." He replied looking up to you with hooded eyes. 

He moved to lay beside you and pull you close to him, but you stopped him.

"Is it not my turn to taste?" You asked him as you nudged at his shoulder so he laid flat against the mattress. 

Niall looked at you as you kissed your way down his chest, slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. Sliding them down you heard him sigh as his hard cock was finally being released.

You couldn't wait near what other noises he could make.x

Part Four

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/187116500028/lost-without-you-part-four