#but after my job interview so :') good energies all around pls :') :')

[aquilaofarkham]

love wins on valentines day

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

[bopbopstyles]

3. More Than a Song

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.7k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: prepare for ANGST! and dunkirk premiere harry aka one of his best looks ever :) also thank u to @havethetimeofyourstyles for making my line breaks bc i’m inept at making things xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

“Baby,” Harry said, turning to her from where he stood in his closet. “Can you help me with my collar? I can’t get it.”

Y/N set down her phone—she was ready first, which wasn’t surprising considering it took Harry ages to get ready, partially because he kept getting distracted with her. He’d touch her, run his hands all over her, ask if he could get her out of her lingerie, and she’d have to remind him that she’d barely even had it on and they had an important event. “Sure.”

Harry looked dashing—he always did. After much debate, they had decided on a simple white silk short-sleeved button down and a pair of flared black pants, cool enough for May in LA, but still perfectly Harry. Y/N had painted his nails last night a pastel purple while they had watched a documentary about sheep—which Harry had selected—and the color popped against the neutrals of the rest of the outfit. Shoes were still up in the air, but Y/N was trying to get him to wear the yellow loafers he’d gotten recently, the ones she was so obsessed with she was considering stealing for herself.

Somehow Harry always managed to mess up his collars before big nights, the nerves probably getting to him. Y/N smoothed the material on his shoulders to relax him before popping up his collar and folding it back down crisply. “There you go.” In the mirror in front of Harry, her eyes trailed down his body, from his sweet curls she had labored over styling in the bathroom, to the recently tailored pants he wore. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, a smile dancing onto Harry’s face at the action. “Nervous, bubs?”

He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Bit. More for you to hear it than anyone else.”

The honesty of his statement brought butterflies to her tummy. Harry had been in and out of meetings for the past few months getting together the release of his debut album and putting the final touches on it, but at no point had he let her hear it. She suspected it was because he was scared she’d hate it, but when she asked her dad about it, he told her to think about it as his journal. His journal of a past that Y/N hadn’t been a part of. That had made Y/N understand a bit better, the prospect of being nervous of what she’d think of him more the worry than a worry of what she’d think of the music. So she nuzzled her nose into his shoulder, careful not to get lipstick on the fabric, and told him, “I’m going to love it. It’ll be perfect, just like you.”

Harry’s arms wrapped backwards so he could hold her to him and they stood there, holding one another, basking in each other’s presence before everyone else arrived. It had been a busy couple months for them to start a relationship—Y/N was swamped at work, her boss having left so she had to take on extra work, and Harry was releasing his album, Dunkirk was coming out in the summer, and his tour started in the fall. It was a lot to say the least, and Y/N tried not to think about it too often because she’d get all in her head and ignore Harry’s texts for hours until he called her and asked her if she wanted gummy worms or Hershey’s for movie night. Then, she’d remind herself that they were doing good—really good, even. Better than other relationships that she had been in for this long. Usually this was when she got bored, but with Harry she kept falling for him more and more every day they spent with each other.

He was like a drug, and she was addicted.

“We should head down,” Y/N said, brushing back from him. “Wear the yellow ones, yeah?”

He mumbled something under his breath about her being bossy and coming for Lambert’s job and she snorted, leaving him in the walk-in closet to straighten himself out. Her phone in her hand, she slipped on her heels, a summer sandal with a platform so her feet didn’t hurt, the perfect compliment to her flowing sundress she’d selected for the release party. When Harry had seen it he’d promptly asked if she could take it off so he could ravish her, so she decided it was a good choice. It emphasized her curves in a way that made her feel confident and she’d pinned her hair over one shoulder, the earrings Harry had gotten her for their three-month anniversary on display.

Re-emerging, Harry rolled his eyes over her body and she gave him a soft smile at the way his eyes screamed with desire. “See something you like?”

“Fuck yes,” he cursed. “Can’t wait to have you all to myself later.” Hands in hers, he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, the kind that made her toes curl, before pulling back. “C’mon, Azoff is yelling at me over text about being late to my own party.”

“It’s literally downstairs,” she pointed out. “He’s just mad he can’t embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Harry laughed, arm tucked around her waist as they descended the stairs of his house. He’d bought it at the end of February, a birthday gift to himself, and Y/N had thought to herself at the time that it wasn’t about her, it was about him. But it was kind of hard whenever he had her help him pick out all the furniture, making sure she approved of the colors he painted the walls and the patio furniture.

Downstairs, the party was in full force. Harry hadn’t invited too many people, mostly the same crowd as his birthday. Since it was at his house, he was hesitant to give the address out to too many people, but ultimately he wanted to be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to celebrate, no paps around. Also, it was hot and he had a pool, so he had told everyone to bring a swimsuit just in case they wanted to take a dip. Y/N had persuaded him to keep it simple and they’d ordered pizza from his favorite place and she made some a ton of margaritas for everyone to help themselves to. Jeff was left in charge of the door when Harry was late finishing getting dressed, and she could tell that he had done a fine job. The tunes were going, people were drinking, and everyone seemed happy. He had even put the album countdown that Y/N had spent two hours making that morning on the TV.

“Stay close to me, please?” Harry asked her, bending his head to whisper in her ear when they reached the group.

Y/N nodded, and Harry began happily talking to Jeff. Y/N started up a conversation with another one of the Full Stop employees who had come who she’d met at a brunch a few weeks ago, plucking some details from her brain about her boyfriend to check-in about. Then, a familiar face flashed in the crowd. “Hanna!”

Harry had suggested the idea of inviting her best friends to the party and Y/N had leapt at the idea. The prospect of having her two favorite people be there with her to celebrate her boyfriend was her idea of a perfect night. Hanna’s red hair popped up, her smile giddy from seeing Y/N. Cutting through the crowd, she quickly made it to Y/N, who wrapped her best friend up in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. “Find it okay?”

Hanna nodded. “Security at the gate did not want to let me in though. Jamie is on his way—Cole called while he was walking out the door.” Jamie and Cole had been together for years and Y/N decided the first time she met Cole that there wasn’t anyone better for Jamie, and Jamie seemed to agree. “How are you?”

“Amazing,” Y/N replied and she truly was. She felt like she was on cloud nine right now, the energy bouncing off of Harry absorbing into every one of her pores. “Excited to finally hear it.”

“You should be.” Hanna leaned over and tapped Harry on the shoulder.

His attention shifted from some work-related conversation with Jeff quickly over to his girlfriend’s best friend. “Oh, hello Hanna,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“No place I’d rather be,” Hanna replied. “Now can I steal Y/N?”

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N, but he gave her a warm smile. “‘Course.”

Y/N followed her best friend out onto the patio, giving hugs and saying hello to the friends of Harry’s she’d met during the past few months of them being together. Harry watched her with awe at how well she had fit into his life, she’d succeeded faster than any other girl he’d ever dated. The tidbits of information she remembered and the way she made an effort to be present in the conversations, her deep knowledge of music and the industry coming in handy. He loved having a girl at her side who knew what all of his team did without him having to explain it to her. It was small, but it made a difference to him.

“H,” Mitch said, pulling his gaze from his girlfriend back to the conversation he’d been having with Mitch, Adam, and Sarah. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking a sip of the margaritas Y/N had made for the party. She’d slaved over them all day while he was on calls and doing interviews and he appreciated it so much. He reminded himself to tell her later when he had her alone and could tell her properly.

Sarah smiled at him knowingly. “He’s just looking at Y/N, as usual.”

Mitch and Adam chuckled, but Harry frowned. “Am I not allowed to look at my girl?”

“You are,” Adam said, “just be careful, mate. You told us about the rule, remember?”

The Rule. The goddamn rule that controlled this relationship more than he felt like he did, sometimes. He didn’t know how much Y/N thought about it at this point in their relationship, but then again it was still technically pretty early in the grand scheme of things. But for him, it was a constant reminder than their time together was fleeting, that at any point she might want to leave him, his lifestyle too hard. And it’s not that he blamed her. He just hated that it was a possibility. “I know.”

“How’s it going?” Adam pressed. Harry had been distant these past few weeks, holing himself up in the house with Y/N every chance he got when they weren’t rehearsing and he wasn’t on a call. It was hectic and he knew that his friends worried about him.

Harry took another sip of his margarita, eyes finding Y/N out on the patio laughing with Hanna, hair blowing in the wind. “Been good. She seems really happy,” he continued at the sight of her smile. “Bit nervous about tonight, if I’m being honest though.” He’d told Y/N the same thing, but the pit in his stomach still lingered. She had said she was excited, but he didn’t know how she would react to him releasing an album full of songs about his exes and flings.

They all got it though. “About which song?”

“All of ‘em,” he said nervously, and it was true. Y/N came into his life after the album was done, the idea of adding a song about her impossible. Even though he could’ve written dozens—he already had, the voice memos on his phone to prove it. Sometimes he’d sneak away to the bathroom while she slept to sing something that popped into his head, and the few that he’d shown the band they liked. It was all material for the next album, they told him. Some of them had even become full-fledged songs after a few hours locked in his office, but he hadn’t shared them yet. They still felt too raw.

Sarah reached out a hand and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “She’ll get it, H. Her dad’s a musician, you know? If there was anyone who would understand, it would be her.”

And she was probably right. But there was a feeling in his gut that Harry couldn’t shake—that tonight wouldn’t end well for them. He’d felt it when he had woken up this morning and no matter how many time he kissed Y/N to make it go away, it lingered and it was making his brain go wild.

He hoped it was just the nerves.

The night passed quickly. There were speeches, a cake, Jeff pulled out a bottle of champagne, and Y/N had rejoined Harry at his side for the most part. And at this party, there was no question as to who she was—to everyone she was “Y/N, my girlfriend,” and Harry loved it. Particularly the look on her face that she would get every once in a while when her eyes caught his. He didn’t know what to call it, but he just knew that he felt the same way.

Before he knew it, it was 11:59 and everyone had gathered in the living room. The TV had the countdown on that Y/N had designed, the album cover with the numerical countdown over it, another bottle of champagne in Harry’s hand, ready to pop. Y/N stood a few people away from him, watching him with that look in her eyes that she’d been giving him all night that made him weak in the knees and made him curious what she would do to him when they were upstairs. He knew why Y/N was keeping her distance right now—she had mentioned it once before when they were curled up in bed after Harry asked her to be put down as a co-host for the party, that this success was his and his alone. That she was here at the end and she wanted it to be all his. She was here to support him and give him kisses after, but it was all his.

“10, 9, 8.” This was it. It was Harry’s debut album, his first solo record. It was weird for the rest of the guys to not be here when an album dropped. Usually, they were all standing together with bottles of champagne, ready to celebrate with one another.

“7, 6, 5, 4.” And Harry didn’t know which one was worse and which was better. Maybe they were both equally as wonderful, because he had other friends here to stand by his side. Jeff, Sarah, Mitch, Adam. James, floating around somewhere. His mum and sister tried to be here but Gemma got sick and Anna wanted to stay behind to take care of her.  

“3, 2,” He had Y/N. He had Y/N’s excited expression, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, the look of pride on her face that he treasured.

“1!” But this was his, his success, his win. With the first notes of the album playing in the room, he popped the bottle of champagne and with the bubbles running down the side of the bottle, he took a long swig.

Cheers went up around him, his best friends celebrating his biggest success of his career thus far, one he’d fought long and hard for. One he was immensely proud of and he hoped he would always look back on fondly. And the sound of his album blaring in his house’s sound system—the sound of Meet Me in the Hallway, it brought him to tears.

“Aww, man,” Adam brought him into a hug, patting Harry softly on his back. “Y/N! Come here!”

Y/N was there in an instant, wrapping Harry up in her arms, his head falling onto her shoulder, sobs wracking his body as they stood there. He didn’t even care that his friends were all there witnessing him crying into his girlfriend’s shoulder, he was just so overwhelmed.

“You okay, bubs?” Y/N asked, petting the back of his head softly.

“It’s a lot,” he replied softly, trying to find the words. “Happy. But also just…”

Her hands ran up and down his back, rubbing circles. “I know, baby. You don’t need to explain, okay?”

Harry didn’t reply, just tried to find his breath and stop the tears that were welling in his eyes. And when he did, he lifted his head and his lips met Y/N’s, the sound of whoops and cat-calls breaking out around them. The middle finger that Harry raised to them all did nothing to stifle them either. “Thank you,” he said into her hair when they broke.

The feeling of her lips on his neck, a soft kiss, brought him to his knees. “Always.”

And Harry hoped it was true.

While the rest of the party swirled around her—dancing had broke out, James had started making themed drinks, his favorite being the Sign of the Times one—Y/N sat right in front of the speaker, listening to every word of the album. It was her first time hearing it and she knew Harry would probably play it for her later, but she wanted to hear it now. She wanted to hear his pride and joy, the thing that had him beaming and laughing with his friends, belting out the lyrics with Mitch and Adam in a conga line that was worming its way through the room.

And what she heard broke her heart in so many ways.

Y/N knew that music, and much of art, stemmed from pain and hurt. A good amount of it was also about love, but the songs that were some of the rawest, the ones that hit home for most people, were the ones about our darkest moments. Harry’s album was full of them. Heartbreak, heartache, regrets, addiction to people and things. It was chock full of every one of his deepest darkest secrets, especially the women who he had loved before he met her. There was a part of her that knew that he would tell her in his own time about the stories of some of these women—he had mentioned a few when she’d asked about them—and that she didn’t need to push, but there was this disgusting, self-sabotaging part of her that wanted to know every sordid detail, even though she knew it would hurt her.

This was one of the many reasons she had always told herself she would never date a musician, but more importantly that she would never fall for one. Because their relationship, their joys and pitfalls, heartache and brightest moments, it was all fodder for a song, an album, a career. It wasn’t the artist’s fault, that’s how it worked, but that didn’t make it any easier to be the person they were writing about.

Was that all she was? Another girl for Harry to write a song about?

She wanted to be happy for him, to be glowing and beaming for him, but the part of her that she hated, the part that conjured the worst possible parts of people, it was crawling out of her head. It was twisting Harry and she knew it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t believe it.

The album only lasted 40 minutes, but in those 40 minutes the party died down. People had jumped in the pool while Y/N sat by the speaker, they had finished their drinks, they had said their goodbyes, the object of the event passed. Hanna and Jamie came over and gave her hugs, concerned looks on their faces, and told her to call them if she needed anything. When she looked up, the last notes of From the Dining Table fading, it was just her left.

A light from the patio twinkled and she could see the water rippling under the moonlight. Harry.

She left the stereo silent, not cuing up another playlist, and tugged off her shoes, then her dress. Following the pull of the man who had written such a beautiful, heartbreaking, hopeful record, she walked to the patio.

“There you are.” He was floating on his back in just his boxers, which didn’t surprise Y/N in the slightest. The fairy lights they had strung up together were dim in the nighttime darkness, but just bright enough so she could see Harry and all his beauty. “Look bloody gorgeous, love.”

Y/N tucked her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, knotting the hair so it stayed. “Finished the album,” she said, walking to the water’s edge.

“Yeah?” Harry swam over to her, leaning his head on her thighs that rested on the concrete that lined the pool. “What’d you think?”

She couldn’t help the heartbroken smile that graced her features, because she was too tired to lie to him. Exhausted from trying to pretend that she didn’t think about the fact that he could leave her at any moment, that the insecurities of who she was and who he was didn’t catch up to her sometimes. His fingertips brushed at her cheeks and Y/N realized she was crying.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He hoisted himself out of the water and hooked one of his legs around her waist, pulling her into his wet skin. It was cold against the night air, but somehow Harry was still warm to her.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she said slowly, struggling to find her words.

Fingers drifted up and down her back. “Just do your best.”

She tried not to think about the fact that she was crying on his album release day, that they were having this conversation now. One that sat in the back of her mind when she was alone and Harry couldn’t banish it. “The album is beautiful, Harry,” she started, “but it’s about a past that I wasn’t a part of.” Harry was quiet, but his arms didn’t move from their place around her, so she forged on. “I know that artists write from their experience, and that this album was done before I met you, but there’s this part of me, this horrible part that I utterly despise, that is jealous of them. The women who you wrote about. And the fact that it’s them that you’re going to sing about on stage every night. Does that make sense?”

The brush of his chin against her spine showed her that yes, he understood.

“And,” she continued, voice breaking, “I can’t stop thinking about the fact that maybe I’m going to be a song.”

“Of course you’re going to be a song,” Harry said, his voice soft and sweet.

He didn’t get it. To him, being a song was an honor, but to her, it was a threat almost. “No—it’s that I’m going to be only a song.”

The man next to her didn’t say a word. The chirp of the crickets stretched between their bodies, which were still close on the concrete floor, not a muscle moved.

“I don’t want to only be a song.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, sobs wracking her body she didn’t expect, didn’t want. She couldn’t have this conversation if she was crying, but she couldn’t hold them in either. It was her biggest fear, the one that festered below all of the others, threatening to consume the relationship she had with a man she was falling for. And falling was the only way to describe it—without any support, a free fall that was utterly terrifying but also blissful peaceful.

Suddenly, his fingers swept across her neck, brushing against her sensitive skin. “Y/N,” he whispered, “you could never be just a song. You’re—you’re like the stars and the moon to me. In that room I could always feel you, wherever you were, and I didn’t want to be anywhere where you weren’t. And maybe this is too fast and too soon, but what I feel for you, fuck Y/N how can you not see how much you are to me?”

He pulled her head so she faced him, his eyes teary to match her own. “Do you hear me? You’re so much more than a song. You’re an album. You’re my life’s work, my masterpiece, a symphony. A song can’t contain how I feel for you, it’s just a piece of a billion I could write.”

Soft as a feather, his lips pressed to her cheeks and then up and across her forehead, over her eyelids, barely leaving a mark but a searing fire in his wake that shook Y/N’s core. “And Y/N, you’re better than a song. You’re my life. You’re here, you’re real, you’re with me. Y/N, you will never be just a song to me. You never could be. Not to me.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his, inhaling his cologne and exhaling her feelings for him. He managed to rip down all her defenses, the ones she had spent years building up, and it was frightening. But then she looked at him, the way he smiled at her, the way he kissed her, the way he said her name, and it wasn’t quite as scary. She hoped he could feel how much she cared for him in the way she kissed him, their tears blending into one as they scrambled for each other. Lips breaking and meeting, desperate for more and more and more. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, holding him to her, wanting to have his whole body imprinted on hers.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “you heard me? You understand?”

“Yes,” she replied softly, “I hear you.” She brushed her fingers through his hair gently, curling the wet strands back. “You may need to remind me sometimes.”

“Always,” he whispered, catching her kiss with his own, tugging her into him, arms around her body in a vice grip.

She lost herself in Harry, him an ocean and her a boat lost at sea. Maybe it was their conversation or the night or the alcohol flowing through their veins, but it felt different. The way he kissed her felt heavier, her moans a prayer, his fingers on his back a weight she never wanted lifted. Her legs wrapped around his waist so she was firmly in his lap, arms thrown over his shoulders, their bare bodies except for their underwear pressed against each other without a molecule of air between them.

His lips drew a line across the top of her shoulder, a fire building in her belly as his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It was a light pink she’d worn just for him and when he nudged at the strap with his nose, letting it slip from her shoulders, she didn’t care that he could barely see it. She’d show him tomorrow morning. He pulled the fabric away and bent his head, licking at one of her nipples and then the other, gasps falling from her mouth like poetry. Without meaning to, her hips rolled over his cock, the thin fabric of their underwear doing nothing to keep the heat of her center from touching his sensitive skin.

He moaned her name, the sound muffled against her neck as he sucked a love bite into the spot that made her keen every time he nipped into it. She rocked again on him, his fingers digging into her skin so hard it would leave marks tomorrow but she didn’t care. In fact, she wanted to have his marks on her tomorrow, she wanted to show the world that she wasn’t just a song, she was his, she was his girlfriend and she made him feel this way.

Hands on skin, he pressed her down onto the concrete so she was lying down, her ankles tucked around his hips, anchoring her to him. When his hips bucked into hers, she let out a sharp cry, the angle brushing her clit perfectly. “Right there?” He mumbled, nipping and tugging on her nipple, laving a circle that left her squirming against the concrete.

“Off,” she whispered, tugging at his boxers with her hands. “Wanna feel you.” With his help, they shimmied off his boxers without too much difficulty and Y/N let out a sigh of relief when she could feel his cock brush against her covered folds. Reaching a hand down, she brushed the pad of her thumb across his tip, a pained hiss flying from Harry’s throat. He was sensitive and Y/N loved it.

They didn’t have a condom, but she didn’t care. She’d been on birth control for years and she knew Harry hadn’t slept with anyone else since she found her way into his life. Plus, she needed him—she wanted to feel him, raw and bare inside of her.

They were going to have sex on the concrete next to his pool, but she didn’t care. They had had sex before and they would have sex again. She just needed him in a desperate, crawling way. When he nudged at her underwear she pressed into him, letting him pull them down her legs without a second thought.

“Condom,” Harry mumbled as she chased after his lips, open mouthed and heavy.

“It’s okay,” she said, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “Want you like this.”

Harry’s head dropped to the space between her neck and shoulder, the groan that filled the air unlike anything she had heard before. “Gonna ruin me,” he whispered, brushing his cock against her folds. Y/N whimpered at the sensation, her fingers begging him for more, for anything she would give him. When his fingers brushed her clit, his name tumbled from her lips without abandon.

“Harry, please,” she panted, fingers deep in his hair.

That was all it took. She was so wet from the foreplay and just him that he didn’t even need to stretch her out. Her mouth fell open as he pushed inside, a mewl landing on his lips as he kissed her. Slowly, he pulled out and then back in, both of them groaning from the sensation of him being bare inside her. He felt impossibly close, every ridge and edge of him pressing against her in the most perfect way. She didn’t know if she could use condoms again, because holding Harry to her chest, arms around his shoulders as he fucked slowly, deeply, into her, her able to feel every inch of her, it was bliss on a new level. A sensation she didn’t know she was missing with him.

Her ankles hitched higher on his hips and when he pushed back in he hit a new angle, a groan ripping from his throat that set her on fire. “Can I go faster?” He said with a grunt. “I—I don’t know how much—“

“Yes,” she whimpered at his words.

He didn’t wait. He drew back and into her, pistoning his hips at a pace she couldn’t even describe, hitting that spot deep inside of her that made her eyes roll back over and over. How he managed to do that she didn’t know, but he deserved an award. Fingers grabbing at his skin in desperation for something to hold her together, Y/N gasped and exhaled his name, a plea and a beg and a prayer all in one. Her back hurt from the concrete but she didn’t care, she just wanted to finish, to feel him release deep inside of her.

Then he thumbed over her clit and she arched up, back leaving the concrete as the fire deep within her threatened to bubble over. When he start brushing circles there, Y/N gripped his shoulders like they would keep her anchored to Earth, her body possibly transcending. Harry bent his head and sucked a love bite on her breast, the puncture of skin forcing her head back, unable to keep it together.

“You close?” He asked, littering her chest with kisses, “Please tell me you are, I can’t, I can’t hold on…”

She mumbled a yes as he drove deep inside of her, swiveling his hips in a brutal way that left her hands squeezing his butt cheeks to get him to do it again. When he did, she swore she saw stars. “Gonna come,” she said, eyes searching for his lips in the low lighting. “Kiss?”

Without hesitation, he kissed her, open mouthed and dirty and sloppy and perfect. She wanted every rough-edged and sweet part of him, every kiss and press of his body against hers. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he chanted as he pressed into her again and again, her body drawing tighter and tighter. Then, he pinched her clit and she came, the ball in her tummy unravelling, hips bucking up against him as she rode out her high. Her eyes stayed trained on him as she did, not wanting to miss his face when he came inside of her.

His hips stuttered, release unloading inside of her in ropes that left him cursing like a sailor. Hair wet and sweaty, sticking to his forehead, and irises blown out, he looked beautiful. She held him close until his body settled, shaking as he came down from his high, forehead resting on the swell of her breasts.

Slowly, he rolled off of her, tugging her body into his so she wasn’t on the cold concrete anymore. He was fiery hot and it kept her warm in the cold air. “Can we never use a rubber again?” He asked softly, and she giggled, hiding her face in his neck.

“Don’t see any reason to,” she replied and he hummed with joy. Tucking her hands under her chin, she looked at him with a smile. “Congrats on your album, baby.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. “I’m so happy I shared today with you.” She kissed him softly and let him hold her close, not wanting to move even to go to bed because it meant leaving his grasp. And as much as her head told her that it wasn’t forever, she couldn’t help but hope it would be.

It had been four days since Harry had texted her. Five since he called her. Six since they FaceTimed.

He was in London for the press junket for Dunkirk and Y/N was supposed to fly out for the July 13th premiere—it was decided a month ago, the tickets booked and her time off from work already approved. But as the days stretched on and the silence grew longer, she couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong. If she had done something wrong.

It wasn’t the first time he had been away from LA. They had a conversation about how they were going to handle distance when he travelled back in April, before the album came out and he had to fly around and do press for two weeks. That time, though, he handled it well—he called every night before she went to bed if he could, if not, he sent a long voice memo that she listened to when she woke up. They texted all day, him sending photos from dressing rooms and backstage at talk shows, even FaceTiming her so she could meet the stars he shared the nights with.

But this time was different. Since he left he had texted her just a handful of times and it was when he was at his mom’s house visiting home before press started. And then once press kicked into gear, he was gone, her texts ignored, calls not returned. She was trying not to seem desperate, but with the more time that passed the more anxious she got. It wasn’t how this was supposed to go, this wasn’t what they’d agreed on. He knew her fears, the dark thoughts that crowded in when she spent too much time worrying about their relationship, and yet he wasn’t taking the actions that helped her calm down. Even though she knew it wasn’t his responsibility to take care of her brain, it helped to know he thought about her, at the very least.

The morning before her flight was supposed to leave, she called Hanna in a panic. Her suitcases laid open on her bed, clothes scattered around her, tears streaming down her face. She had tried to call Harry again to confirm her arrival plans, only to be met with his voicemail, again.

Hi, you’ve reached Harry. I’ll give you a call back when I can!

Somehow, the sound of his voice made it worse.

“Han,” she choked out when her friend picked up, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Did he not answer?” Hanna had been counseling her through the whole thing, helping her stay calm and sane, as much as possible at least. From Y/N’s lack of response, just more sobs, Hanna knew immediately. “That prick.”

Y/N wiped a tear from her eye and looked at the ticket in her hand. Harry had forced her to accept his offer of first-class, booking her flight through his agent and everything. “Does he even want me there? Should I not go?”

Hanna was quiet, thoughts rolling through her head. “No,” she finally said. “You should go. Even if it’s just to talk to him in person. You deserve to hear it face-to-face, not by him ghosting you.”

“Even if that means I end up in London and he breaks up with me?”

“Yes,” Hanna replied softly. “But I really, really hope that is not what’s happening.”

At first it had been that he was busy, that he would text when he had time, but it had been six days. Now, both Y/N and Hanna were increasingly worried that it meant the end of their relationship and Y/N was simply not ready for that possibility. She had let Harry in—he had begged her to let him in—and he was going to end things like this? When things got hard with the distance he just…cut her out? “Can you take me to the airport?” Y/N asked, sniffling. “If you don’t I don’t think I’ll be able to force myself to go.”

“Was already planning on it,” Hanna replied. “I’ll bring snacks for the flight.”

“Love you,” Y/N told her. Hanna was her one constant, who knew Y/N better than she knew herself.

“Love you more. Now go finish packing and call me if you need me, okay?”

Y/N told her okay and hung up, her gaze shifting to her suitcase. If he was going to break up with her, then she was going to look so magnificent he would regret every second of it.

Eleven hours in the air meant plenty of time to run over her entire relationship with Harry. She had sat curled up in her seat scrolling through her camera roll and listening to Bon Iver, which was the sappiest thing possible and she didn’t care. Y/N didn’t want to break up with him and the photos and the texts and the memories proved it. Her time with Harry had been so beautifully bright, his presence in her life making so much better, from her confidence to her knowledge to her music taste. And she cared about him in a way she hadn’t let herself do—ever.

She had texted Jeff before she took off, telling him she couldn’t get a hold of Harry and asking where she should go when she landed. He replied with Harry’s Hampstead address and the door code, saying there was a key waiting for her, hidden in the garden, an apology on Harry’s behalf for how busy he had been. The words meant nothing, though, to Y/N. If Harry wanted to apologize he would have to do it in person, not through Jeff.

It was eleven by the time her Uber pulled up to Harry’s house and she thanked the driver as he tugged her luggage from the boot. She waited until he pulled away before she typed in the gate code, not wanting to reveal Harry’s security to anyone—she have been mad at him, but she still didn’t want anything happening to him. The door unlocked for her and she slid inside, shutting it quickly behind her. Pulling her suitcase behind her, she walked up the path, searching for the garden statue Jeff had told her the key was hiding under. When she found it, her fingers ran across the ridges as she made her way to the front door.

His house in LA was warm, it was the Harry she knew. But this house felt colder, the design modern, his personal affects not as visible. Although to his credit, he hadn’t been here for more than a few days in months. A few photos of Anne and Gemma were scattered through the front hall, some framed photos of his time in One Direction nestled between them.

“Harry?” She knew he wasn’t there, but the idea of walking into his house without checking felt too uncomfortable for her. She locked the door tightly behind her, typing in the security code Jeff had sent before re-arming it.

Y/N took her time exploring his house. She perused the main spaces, testing out the couches and peeking at his bookcases, studying the art lining the walls. Then she made her way upstairs to the bedrooms, running her fingers along the edges of his One Direction album plaques that lined the walls of his office, the ones from his debut still resting on the floor waiting to be hung. She found the guest bedrooms with ease and she spent a good five minutes standing on the landing deciding if she should go into his bedroom or set herself up in a guest one.

She settled on a guest bedroom. If he was going to break things off, she didn’t want to know what his bed felt like or smell his clothes or take a shower in his bathroom.

Instead, she showered in the guest bath, washing off the plane smell that lingered on her body. She dressed in shorts and a tank top, letting her hair air dry since she would have to just re-style it for the premiere later. Jeff hadn’t told her what time Harry would be back and she was ravenous, so she wandered downstairs to fix herself some lunch. To fill the silence in the house she turned on The 1975, playing the music from her laptop she had open on the counter as she cooked some pasta she had found in the cabinet. As she ate at his dining table, she tried not to think about the fact that this could be the last time she was in a space of Harry’s. The last time she sat on things he had picked out, the last time she rooted through his fridge, past his obnoxious green juices and leftovers since he hated eating out if he didn’t have to. Her fingers brushed at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

Reaching down for her fork to take another bite, she suddenly heard the lock click in the front door and the security system begin to beep.

He was home.

She slid her bowl away from her and turned to look at the doorway, waiting to see his face for the first time in over a week. And when he appeared, she couldn’t the return the stretched across his face at the sight of her in his house. He looked the same and somehow that was worse. In a nice shirt from interviews this morning, his hair slightly tossed from running his fingers through it, the sheen on his upper lip from the heat outside. He looked like her Harry, but she didn’t know if he was hers anymore.

“Y/N!” His voice rebounded off the walls, filling her heart with a kind of hope that was crushing.

“Hi,” was all she could muster before looking back down at her pasta. An anger rose in her, replacing the hurt that had lingered for so many days. How could he pretend like everything was okay? How could he smile at her like he hadn’t been ignoring her for days, too busy to even check and see how her flight was?

His footsteps were heavy on the hardwood floors as he made his way over to her. “Baby? What is it?”

“Do you want to break up?” She asked, her question hard compared to his kind, gentle, tentative tone.

“What?” Harry dropped into the seat caddy-corner to the chair she sat in. “What are you talking about?”

She pushed away her bowl and looked him dead in the eye. “I haven’t heard from you in days, Harry. Days. I flew halfway across the world for you and you couldn’t even manage to check-in to see if I was alive?”

He flinched at her words, eyes dropping to the table they sat at. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, words barely audible above her heart beating a mile a minute, pulsing with anger.

“That’s not going to cut it,” she told him, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink. “You fucking ghosted me like I was a girl you’d just met. We’re about to celebrate six months together. And you know what this shit does to me.”

And he did. She could see in his eyes that he knew he was in the wrong, and yet he was quiet. “I was busy.”

“So was I! But I still found two seconds to text you asking how it was going, I found fifteen minutes before bed to call you, and I kept trying even though you couldn’t even manage to reply to me. You’re not that busy, Harry.”

He stood too, walking over to where she stood in his kitchen so that he was a few paces away from her. “I was in and out of interviews from morning to night and when I wasn’t, I was with the cast who I haven’t seen in almost a year. And when I wasn’t doing that Jeff was harassing me about tour details or I was sleeping. I’m sorry if my schedule didn’t allow me to talk to you at every second of the day, Y/N, but this is a huge moment for me and I had to focus on that.” His words were measured, but she could feel the tension rising between them, words unsaid bubbling over.

“And your career is more important than our relationship.” She nodded sarcastically, wiping her wet palms on the dish towel and turning to face him. “Got it, heard loud and clear.”

“Fuck—you know it’s not!” His hand ran through his locks and down his face, struggling to get a handle on his breathing.

“Harry,” she said, trying not to yell, “I’m not going to force you to stay in a relationship that you don’t want to put the time in for. But you know exactly what I need from you—I have been very clear. You know my fears and my insecurities, and you know what triggers them. We had a plan for how to deal with this, and you completely disregarded it!” Her voice rose at the end, the fact that he couldn’t even meet her eyes pushing all of her buttons. “Fucking look at me when I talk to you!”

His eyes met hers and she didn’t see the Harry she knew, the Harry who cared for her, the soft, gentle man. Instead, she saw someone who was pissed off and hurt and grasping at straws. “I can’t dance around your fears every moment of the day,” he said, voice spitting anger. “And I’m sorry if that breaks one of your rules,” the word hitting her in the face, “but you’re going to have to get over it because I can’t spend every second of the day wondering if something I did or said has made you think I don’t care about you! You should know that I don’t want to hurt you, that of course I want to be with you!”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me!” His words stabbed her right where it hurt, hitting her fears right in the heart.

Harry turned, his body facing the counter, fingers gripping the edge of the marble. He sucked in breath after breath trying to calm himself down and Y/N tried to find it within herself to have sympathy for him, but she just…couldn’t. She was so pissed off at him she couldn’t think straight.

“I’m not some girl waiting around for Harry Styles to come home, begging him to never leave me,” Y/N said. She was done. She was done with this fight, with him expecting her to be someone she wasn’t. “I’m me and I’m waiting for Harry, the person I care for so deeply it hurts—you are held to the same standards as every other guy, no matter how busy your schedule is. I should not be expected to fit into your schedule all the time. It goes both ways and you operated this week as if it was entirely my job to stay in touch with you. And I am not going to stay in a relationship like that.”

Harry’s head whipped to hers, eyes boring straight into her. “Are you saying you want to break up?”

Y/N tried to keep her head high, tried to hold back the tears. “If you’re going to do this when you’re on tour, I’m done. You know what I want—it’s the same thing I wanted from this relationship the moment I met you. You’re the only one who seems to think things have changed.” And with that, she stormed out of the room, which was probably petty but she didn’t care. She was so mad at him for his actions and his words that she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him.

Harry didn’t follow her.

At 1 o’clock, a knock came on her door.

“If you still want to come, we have to leave for the premiere in an hour. It’s up to you.” And with that, he walked away, not even waiting for her to open the door.

She sat on the bed, considering her options. Did she go and support him anyway, pretend everything was fine? Or did she stay here—or maybe find a hotel—and leave him alone for the premiere?

He had told her how nervous he was about this. This was his first time on a movie red carpet as an actor and he was freaking out about it before he left, a ball of anxiety that she had to carefully untangle. The thought of him being up there alone pained her, despite how his hurtful words lingered in her head. That she had to get over it as if it was that simple.

The red dress she had bought for the premiere hung in the bathroom where she had left it while she showered so the wrinkles would leave the fabric. It was beautiful—a tiered taffeta skirt that cinched in at the waist, a caged bodice showing off her shoulders. When she had tried it on she had felt beautiful, powerful, as if she could take on anything and everything. She had spent a ton of money on the dress and she didn’t want to waste it.

So she got up, turning on BANKS and set about her hair and makeup in the bathroom, praising Hanna for teaching her how to do her makeup in college. She painted her lips red, in the shade that she adored wearing, and twisted up her hair into a chignon that emphasized her neck. Running her fingers along the skin she remembered when Harry had kissed it, but the love bite he had left behind was long healed. Was she asking too much of him? She wondered as she looked at herself in the mirror. Was he right, were her fears stifling him?

Then she remembered what Hanna had told her. That he wasn’t anyone different from other guys she had dated, and what she was asking from him wasn’t out of left field. Any guy she would date she would except to check in with her when he was traveling and Harry was no different, no matter what his job was.

Harry was waiting downstairs for her, probably having heard her rummaging around in the closet. When he heard her heels on the stairs, he looked up and his eyesight on her skin burned because he looked gorgeous. Maybe this was a horrible idea, she thought as she made her way towards him. She would have to touch him all night, look at him in his tailored suit, gaze into his green eyes as they were photographed on the red carpet.

“You look beautiful,” he said, words gravelly in his throat.

She stopped a few paces away from him. “Thanks.”

He fiddled with his keys, the silence stretching between them. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you have no reason to, but having you there…It means a lot.”

Instead of replying, because she didn’t have words for him, she just nodded. Because she did have a reason—even though she was mad at him, she still cared for him. Despite not wanting to, she still craved him giving her a kiss on the cheek as they walked out the door.

The drive to the red carpet was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background the only sound. They sat on either side of the backseat, Y/N staring out the window while Harry fiddled with his phone. She hadn’t been to London since she was 18 for her graduation present from her mom, and the city held warm memories for her. She wondered if that would change after today.

When they pulled up, an anxiety Y/N didn’t know she was holding started building, the sight of the photographers and the screams from the fans barricaded in. With all that had been happening, she had somehow forgotten what going to the premiere meant for her. Her eyes fell to Harry who was staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She had never done this before and he knew that.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said, trying to calm her fears. “Promise.” It helped. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone. “Ready?” He stretched out a hand to her and she took it, letting him help her from the car.

The second her feet hit the pavement, the screams got louder. Fans with signs and their phones outstretched on either side of the wide red carpet, the word DUNKIRK in large white letters closest to the entrance to the theater. Harry’s hand gripped her as she stood, thankful for his body to help her keep balanced.

“Just smile as best you can,” he whispered in her ear as the car pulled away behind them. “And if your eyes start hurting from the flashes, just look at me, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and with his hand in hers, fingers entertained, they made their way down the carpet. He stopped a few times to take photos with fans and sign cards, but all that time he never strayed too far from Y/N’s side. With his arm securely wrapped around her waist, they stood for photos, Y/N trying to stand up as straight as she could and smile sweetly. Harry was a pro at this, a smile practiced for years, but she didn’t have the same experience. She was just a regular person who didn’t know which side was her bad side and had her eyes closed in half her photos.

The cameramen screamed questions at them, about their relationship, if they were married. They’d never quite publicly announced their relationship, Harry preferring to keep his private life private, so this was the first time they’d ever even publicly been out as a couple. And for it to be like this…Y/N hated it. She wanted to stand there and be utterly infatuated with Harry like she usually was, but this time her spine was rimrod straight, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was awkward, the way he tentatively touched her body, not wanting to overstep but also wanting to present the aura of normalcy.

Then they took a few steps and rotated to another set of cameras and Y/N understood what Harry had meant about her eyes hurting from the flashes. She turned her head to him and he found her eyes, giving her a wide smile meant just for her. Without thinking about it, her hand pressed to his suit right over his heart, the soft material of his suit jacket butter under her fingers. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, softly and sweetly and to most it wouldn’t have meant much. But to Y/N, it was the first time he had kissed her since she’d seen him. And the feeling of his lips on her skin lingered, a tingle moving through her body. Her hand gripped his back a little tighter and he just kept smiling at her, utterly entranced by her eyes.

Their bodies had betrayed them. To anyone who looked, they would have seen perfectly fine, not that they had been fighting only two hours ago. But they knew the reality, and this moment, their bodies close together and emotions running through them without being able to stop it, it made it clear that neither of them wanted to break up. They would just have to find a way to move through it.

TAGLIST

@smokeinherperfume @afire-hes @harryinsweatersandbandanas @marinalima3 @havethetimeofyourstyles @ursogoldenshan @inmygardensuit @marinalima3 @amaridon @harrys-watermelons @dontgiveupthedayjob @cronias13 @apples2019 @laula843 @afterstylesmadeit  @kait-brin @harrys-watermelons @groovybaybee @clumsywithlove93 @1142590m @erin0717 @ketchuplukehemmo​ 

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NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 11TH @ NOON CST

[flightsoffandom]

Co-Conspirators

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Words: 5421

Summary: Getting your career at the BAU started gets interesting when you realize you're attracted to your boss.

Warnings: None

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. I had been interested in watching Criminal Minds for a long time, but a friend of mine finally got me to start it. Suffice to say my damn ass completely fell for Hotch. Was there other things I was planning on writing… Yes… but I couldn't help myself. Hopefully, now my obsession will chill out enough I can work on other projects for a bit.

I found this writing prompt @witterprompts​ and went with it. The original prompt is below.

"Look, I think it's a fairly simple question. Do you or don't you want me to work with you?"

Continuation of Co-Conspirators –Part 1*–Part 2–Part 3–Part 4–Part 5 –Part 6

You had initially gone to college for something completely different. Or at least you planned on using your degree for something else.  One of your classes had Jason Gideon come in as a guest speaker, which sparked an epiphany. So you picked up some extra classes and buckled down, reading as many books as you could on the subject, David Rossi’s books were among the ones you read. Whatever college social life you may have had was put on the back burner, so you could pour all your energy into learning. It took a lot of hard work, but you managed to do it. You wanted to help people. This seemed like one of the best ways you could do that. When you were ready, you pushed ahead and got an interview with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.

    You had been beyond nervous. For the past few years, you had been training for this moment. So you steeled yourself before going into the FBI building. You made sure to wear something very professional, wanting to make an excellent first impression. Walking into the building was easy enough. When you got into the BAU area, you saw some of the other employees there. They were already watching you. It was easy to tell that they knew you were there for the job opening. While you walked up the stairs, you tried to absorb all the information around you. You reached the office and knocked on a door that read 'S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner', the man who would be interviewing you. You heard a voice call you in. You were thrown off when you entered Hotchner's office. He was older than you, but even with that scowl sculpted into his face, you immediately found him attractive. So that caused you to begin your interview precariously. You knew he was a profiler, so you did your best to bury your attraction to him. Agent Hotchner was your boss. You were going to handle this professionally. You closed the door behind you, "Nice to meet you, Agent Hotchner." You introduce yourself as you take a few steps closer before stopping a respectable distance from him. Hotchner motions to the chair on the other side of his desk, "Sit. Despite what the other profilers might say, I don't bite." You chuckle, moving to sit in the chair. Hotchner moved some papers around on his overflowing desk, “Hotch is fine.” He looked over what seemed to be your personal file. You weren't sure what to expect before you came here. There were rumors about the team and gossip sure. Agent Hotchner was supposed to be intimidating and mean. While he gave off those vibes at first glance, that wasn’t the feeling you got from Hotch when you took a second to read him. Hotch looked up at you from your file, “Your look qualified for the job, but you’re young. What makes you better for this job than other applicants with more experience.” You hum, quickly thinking to yourself. You make sure to thoroughly look around the room, trying to get every detail. You look back at your interviewer, “There are no other applicants.” You said with a very matter the fact tone. Hotch leans back in his chair, a ghost of a smirk on his face. “What makes you say that?” You sit up enough to get another look at the files on his desk, “All these files are paperwork for cases, the dates, and how they are labeled. Applications aren’t labeled like that.” Hotch narrows his eyes at you, signaling for you to continue. You smile, “You don’t have any other applications on your desk. Which means either I’m your last applicant or there were no others. ” You glance down at your watch, “Judging by the time of day, the stacks of paperwork on your desk, and the bags under your eyes, you don’t have a lot of time for interviews. This is why you’re doing this on your lunch break, and I don’t think you’ve actually eaten lunch yet. I imagine you would have scheduled all your interviews in one day to get it taken care of quickly. Limited time, limited people you are willing to bring in and try to fit into your already busy schedule. I'm guessing that I am the only applicant.” You pause and shrug, “I suppose I could also be the only application you deemed had enough potential.” Hotch leaned forward again, closing your file, “Can you start tomorrow?”

    You curiously peek at the papers on his desk. Interestingly trying to see if you missed anything as you respond, “I can start right now if you need me too…” You pause for a second, before looking back up at Hotch, “Was I right?” Hotch tucks your file away, “Yes.” You perk up. You had done exercises in classes and during training, but you always found them too easy. So being able to test your skills on something more challenging and being right was exciting, “Which one I am then? Only applicant?” You assumed you were the only one. Figuring if someone with more experience had applied, they would have easily won out over you. Hotch shakes his head, “The only file I saw with enough potential to bring in was yours.” You slowly stand up, making a curious noise. “Thank you, then.” You reach out your hand. Hotch raises his eyebrows and shakes your hand, “Don’t thank me yet, You'll still have to prove yourself in the field.”

    That was how you got your job with the BAU. To start out, Hotch partnered you and him together a lot, you were assuming it was a probationary situation. You did some cases with other people while you were learning. After you had been at the job long enough to handle yourself, you were still partnered with Hotch most of the time. Part of you chalked it up to the fact that you could handle Hotch’s grumpy and bully-like behavior. Quickly the whole team became your family. You spent most of your time at work, which meant you spent all your time with the team. You enjoyed hanging out with everyone on the team.

    Emily would help you learn new languages if there was time. You found it oddly soothing listening to Reid talk about whatever he was excited about at the moment, plus you usually learned something. Rossi shared a love for classic art, the two of you also shared a love of snarky banter. You and Penelope shared anything nerdy with each other, whether it was movies, shows, or comics. Derek would discuss books with you, and he would introduce you to new music. You were always happy to look at pictures of Henry while talking about family life with JJ. You and Hotch were workaholics together. Hotch got onto you about it a few times, but you always turned it back on him. It was hard to explain, you and Hotch kind of just gravitated to each other. There was always a calm mutual understanding between the two of you. Working so closely with Hotch didn't exactly help with your attraction to him. You were a professional. So you ignored it for the most part. You had resigned yourself to the fact that Hotch wasn't interested in you. Even if he was interested, he was such a stickler for rules that it wouldn’t matter.

    You had been good at remaining professional for a few years. However, you slipped up one night when you and the team went out to celebrate. A case had gone really well, and you all knew you deserved a break. Emily and Derek were the first two to get the idea rolling. Soon everyone was ready and willing to go, except Hotch. Since you both worked way too much when the team went out, it was usually down to either you or Hotch to be what Penelope lovingly referred to as the ‘designated buzzkill’. You agreed to go but kept wondering if you should invite Hotch. Reid quickly caught onto how you were glancing up towards Hotch’s office, “Shouldn’t we invite Hotch?” Everyone except you and Reid made a face. It was a collective look of ‘We could try, but he’ll just say no.’ Their skeptical looks sealed it for you. You moved away from your desk and to the stairs, “I’ll ask him.” Penelope let out an excited squeak, practically bouncing as she spoke, “You’re the only one of us who can speak fluent ‘Hotchner’. You can do it, sugar.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes as you walked up the stairs. You knocked on Hotch’s office door but didn’t even wait for a response before going right in. You and the team had only been back for maybe 30 minutes, and Hotch had already buried himself in paperwork. You walk over and sit in the chair in front of his desk. Hotch doesn’t even look up as he addresses you, “Yes?” You shift about in the chair using the sweetest voice you could muster, “We have all been talking…” Hotch looks up, cutting you off “A night out? I have paperwork.” Hotch had his scowl on, but it no longer affected you unless he was mad at you personally. You grin at him, “It will be fun.” Hotch just stared at you, waiting. You sighed and rolled your eyes quickly, dropping being overly nice, “Why do you make me do this?” Hotch leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. A smirk threatens to slide onto his face, Hotch still just stares at you. You glare at him, “Fine, you asked for it.” Hotch just waits, already knowing he pushed you to the point where you lose your verbal filter. While he had gotten onto you before for your lack of filter on cases, you think he enjoyed it when you spoke candidly in more casual situations. You point to his desk, “When is the last time you went somewhere that wasn't this building, the plane, or a company car?” Hotch goes to protest. This time you cut him off, “This stack of paperwork has been like this since you hired me... What two years ago now? You always do all your work. Go above and beyond. The files have changed, but the stack remains the same size. It can wait twelve more hours. At which point, you’ll realize trying to sleep is pointless. You'll come into work early anyway.” Hotch makes a face, doing what he does best and avoids the main parts of your argument, “It’s been two years and six months.” You open your mouth, ready to argue again, but are temporally confused. “What?” Hotch moves some papers around, “It’s been two years and six months since I hired you.” You gave him another confused look, “You remember how long it has been?” Hotch once again dodges the main issue. “Also, I’d like to point out that you also haven’t been anywhere other than here or on a case in a while, either.” You scoff, “I totally have…” Hotch rolls his eyes, “Sleeping in your car in the company parking lot doesn’t count.” You grumble and lean back in the chair. You decide to do what Hotch does and just avoid that statement, “What if I promised you I would help you with the paperwork after the teams’ little night out?” You could tell you were starting to win when Hotch sat up in his chair. Hotch motioned to the paperwork on his desk, “This is important.” You stand up and put your hands on his desk, raising your voice in a nonaggressive manner, “Mental health is important too.” You glare down at Hotch, “And I swear to god if I have to drag Reid in here and make you listen to the statistics about mental wellbeing and overworking yourself, I will be so pissed.” You get a bit more dramatic with your voice, “Aaron Hotchner, I already got that lecture from him the other day. If I have to listen to it again just to get you to go to the bar with us, I will.” Hotch puts his hands up in defeat before pushing himself away from his desk, “Please don’t subject me to that.” Hotch stands up, and you start grinning, “Thank you for caving.” You walk to the office door, waiting. When you looked through the window, the whole team automatically looked away. Trying to hide the fact they had been watching. You chuckle, shaking your head at how bad they were at ‘acting casual’. You walk down the stairs, “Stop pretending you weren't paying attention. Bossman agreed to join us.” Derek claps you on the back, “The boss whisperer has triumphed for us once more.” You roll your eyes, going over to your desk. “Why do you all act like Hotch speaks a completely different language?” JJ giggles, commenting, “Asks the only person who understands him half the time.” Hotch walks down the stairs from his office, “Let’s keep it that way. If the rest of you catch on, then I’m doomed.” You laugh. Now that you all were ready, it was time to go. The team went back to their excited chattering as you left the building as a group.

    At the bar, the team stayed together for the first few drinks. After that, though, everyone slowly splintered off on their own. You flitted from each small group for a while until like always, you ended up sitting next to Hotch. Hotch was nursing a drink while watching the rest of the team have fun. You ordered another drink. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you spoke up, “We are supposed to be having fun.” Hotch chuckles, “Is sitting over here with your boss your definition of fun?” You smile leaning back against the counter to relax, “Actually yes.” You take a large drink from your glass, turning to look at Hotch, “But you knew that already.” Hotch turns to face you, “I do. It’s the ‘why’ I could never figure out.” You laugh, playing with the small amount of alcohol in your glass, “You’re a profiler, you tell me.” Hotch glared at you before taking another drink. You couldn’t help the cocky look that fell onto your face. Hotch looks back out at the mixture of people floating around the room, “Really want to go down this road?” You scoff, getting another drink, “Hit me with your best shot Hotch.”

    Hotch motions to all the people mingling in the bar, “You’re as bad of a workaholic like I am. So you don’t have a personal life.” You make a fake offended noise, but let Hotch continue. “You find flaws in anyone who would be considered a potential romantic interest before even speaking to them. Convincing yourself, there is no use in trying.” Hotch glances back over to you, “It's why you like hanging out with me that I don't understand.” You cock your head, “I’ll answer that after I correct you on a few points.” Hotch crosses his arms, leaning back, waiting. You chuckle, “You guys are my personal life, my family. Your right about the romantic interest part, though... Hard to stay interested in someone when you can profile them in one glance...” You pause before knocking back your drink, “I like grouchy, serious people. Lots of nice silence that isn’t awkward gives me time to think. No bullshit, you’ll tell me if I did something wrong or whatever else. Plus, My mouth normally gets me in trouble but not around you. I can be a sarcastic asshole or brutally honest.” Hotch makes a noise, “Your mouth is a huge problem.” You nervously rub the back of your neck and chuckle, “I mean… I’ve at least gotten better when we are on the job.” Hotch smirks, “You have.” He pauses for a second, “What else? You’re leaving something out.” This is the point where you would usually come up with a convincing lie to hide the fact you had feelings for Hotch. You were a few drinks in. You could handle your liquor, so you weren’t drunk per se, but you had drunk enough that you didn’t really think about the need to lie. You smile to yourself as you let out a small hum, “Because… seeing a sullen person smile… and I don't mean smirking… a genuine smile... It’s a special thing to be able to see that.” You realized that was the first time you had said something like that or even admitted it to yourself. You let out a curious hum. Turning back around in your seat, facing the counter. When Hotch turned around, that’s when you notice the two of you were shoulder to shoulder now. You glanced over at Hotch. He had a real smile on his face. It made you happy seeing him like that. You forgot where you were and that there were rules against fraternization at work. Hotch was so close to you, so when your eyes met his, all logic left your body. You closed your eyes before leaning in and kissed Hotch.

    Hotch even kissed you back. It felt so right that you got caught up in it. Both of you kept kissing each other. That was until your brain quickly started to catch up to what you were doing. It only took a split second for your bliss to come crashing down. You had just kissed your very handsome, regulations focused boss. At a party with your coworker’s nonetheless. When you realized that you just put both your and Hotch’s job on the line, you pulled away. Hotch looked confused. You couldn’t tell if it was because you kissed him or because you stopped kissing him. Not sure what else to do, you decided to bolt. Digging cash out of your pocket before putting it on the counter to pay for your drinks. You avoid looking at Hotch, “I… I have to go.” You said it so fast it sounded more like one word then a sentence. You didn’t wait for a response. Booking it out of the bar and straight to a taxi to take you home. You were mad at yourself. You managed to stay professional for over two years. Then it only took one night out for you to ruin that. Though deep down, you knew the real reason you were so upset was that kissing Hotch had felt perfect, but there were multiple rules against things like this. You didn’t want to forget about that moment but thought it might be easier if either you or Hotch just forgot about it by the time morning rolled around. As soon as you went home, you went straight to bed, hoping to sleep it off.

    When you woke up a few hours later, you hadn’t forgotten. It was actually the first thing you thought about. Making you realize that maybe it was more than a crush you had on Hotch. You pushed the thought back in your mind and decided to just go into work. Knowing you couldn’t go back to sleep even if you wanted to. Even though you were walking into work a few hours before anyone else should be there, you weren’t surprised when you saw Hotch’s car already here. You had your fingers crossed that he had forgotten about last night, and you never had to think about this ever again. When you walked into the bullpen, you got your answer. Usually, when you came in early for whatever reason, especially helping him with paperwork, you would sit in Hotch’s office while you both worked quietly. However, today Hotch’s office door was closed. The paperwork you had promised to help him with was sitting on your desk. Last night may have just fucked up your usual routine and, even worse, a friendship. You sighed to yourself and just sat down at your desk and worked.

    Over the next few months, it only got worse. Where you and Hotch typically gravitated to each other, now you were both constantly apart. He no longer paired you two together on cases, never sat next to each other on the plane. The worst part was probably the early and late hours both you and Hotch always worked. You both were the only two in this part of the building at those times, and still, there was no real communication between the two of you. Just basic, stiff sentences. Neither you or Hotch talked outside of team meetings and cases. It was a shock to your system considering how close you two had been before that night at the bar. But you felt you had no one to blame but yourself. You also felt lucky you still had your job considering Hotch could have fired you.

You reached your breaking point one random morning after a few months of this. It just hit you how much you actually needed to know what was going on. You didn’t even care what the answer was, you just wanted to know. So while you and Hotch were still the only two at work, you barged into his office.  Before you could even get the door closed, Hotch spoke up, “Yes?” You closed the door and crossed your arms, “If you’re pissed at me, could you go ahead and just say so?” You shouted that louder than you meant to. Hotch furrowed his brow and looked right up at you. You didn’t give him a chance to say anything just yet, “I was really drunk, okay? So don’t think anything of… of…” You tried to think of what to call it because calling it a kiss reminded you how much you enjoyed it. You subconsciously touched your fingers to your lips. As soon as you noticed, you dropped your hand and continued, “that situation… It meant nothing.” You didn’t even believe yourself and knew that Hotch saw right through it too. As an effort to hide more of your feelings, you let out a loud, annoyed huff before standing there and staring at Hotch. Hotch narrowed his eyes at you, testing you. “Then why are you yelling at me about it?” You scoffed a few times before you started walking around. You stayed mindful enough that it didn’t look too much like pacing. You calmed your voice, “Because I feel like I’m in the dog house because of it. You stopped partnering with me, practically stopped talking to me altogether.” You sigh, “I understand you could have fired me for that drunken mistake. You didn’t, and I appreciate it. But if you really hate working with me that much now, just tell me.” Hotch leaned back in his chair and watched you. There was some emotion in his eyes you couldn’t pinpoint at the moment. It almost looked like he was amused as he spoke, “You weren't that drunk.” Hotch moves some papers around on his desk, “You know, normally anyone else on the team would think being partnered with me constantly would be the punishment. Not the other way around.” You think for a moment watching Hotch, “I don’t feel that way about it.” Hotch nodded, “I know.” He looked a bit too amused for your liking. So you started speaking louder again, "Look, I think it's a fairly simple question. Do you or don't you want me to work with you?" You paused, but your nerves got the better of you. You let out a loud sigh before adding mostly to yourself, “I knew my mouth would get me in trouble one day… this just isn’t the kind of trouble I thought it would be.” Hotch chuckles at your comment, “I’m not mad at you.”  You scrunch up your face, confused. Hotch’s voice turns more serious as he finishes, “I do want to work with you, but I separated us because you’re a distraction.” You glare at Hotch, “What the fuck do you mean a distraction?” At this point, you may not have been thinking too clearly because you automatically took offense. You fully turned to face Hotch, your body language and tone reflecting your irritation, “We have worked with each other for over two years. Suddenly I’m a ‘distraction’?” Hotch stood up, crossing his arms and staring you down. You dug your heels in, “Am I really that bad at my job that I’m affecting your or the team’s work?” Hotch started walking over to you, “Will you stop and listen to me for a second?” Hotch had raised his voice just enough to get your attention. It was stern with no real anger behind it. You let out an exasperated huff but stayed quiet. Hotch stopped a few feet in front of you. Even a few feet away, Hotch seemed to tower over you. The serious look that was normally stamped on his face was softer than normal, “You’re a distraction because I have feelings for you as well.” 

You falter for a second, “What?” Hotch lets a smile slide onto his face, “You heard me.” You take a minute to think it over, “Then why didn’t you say anything before.” Hotch shrugs, “You’re the one who ran, and I wanted to cover all my bases.” You glare at him, wondering if this was a joke. Hotch wasn’t one for jokes, so it was unlikely, but part of your brain wouldn’t accept he was telling the truth. So naturally, you challenge him, “Since when?” Hotch raises his eyebrows at you, “Does it matter?” You give him a firm nod. Hotch looks off to the side, “Longer than I would care to admit…” Hotch knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer, so after a pause, he looked back at you with a smirk on his face, “The first time you yelled at me. I was able to see how passionate you were. It started then.” You start laughing, “Really? You also wrote me up for that.” Hotch nods, “It was still against regulations, so, Yes.” Hotch pauses, “What about you?” This time the laugh that leaves you is a nervous one, “Since my interview.” You rub the back of your neck, “Tall, Dark, and Handsome. What else can I say?” Hotch makes a curious noise, “I just read that as regular nerves, not attraction.” Hotch smirks at you, “If I had known you had such poor taste, I wouldn’t have hired you.” You scoff and roll your eyes, “Shut up.” You look out the window down into the bullpen below, “If ‘poor taste’ is liking a man who is constantly pushing himself to do the right thing and can be an ass at times because of that. Then sure, I have ‘poor taste’.”  Hotch scuffs, “The word I think you meant to use was jaded.” You smile, looking back over at Hotch, “Nope.” You say it very matter of factly, letting the ‘p’ pop as you speak. You tilt your head and give Hotch a cocky grin, “So you like being yelled at?” Hotch rolls his eyes, “Only when you're the one yelling. If I didn’t, I would have fired you by now.” You chuckle but then have a serious thought, “How much trouble are we in?” Hotch sighs, “None… at the moment, but if Strauss catches wind of this…” It was finally time for other people to start showing up for work, just some background workers. Drawing both you and Hotch’s attention to the window watching over the bullpen. You think, “So we don’t let Strauss catch wind of this.” You tap your foot on the ground. “Everyone on the team hates the bitch, but…” Hotch nods, finishing your thought for you, “But… If we keep it a secret from the team, it will at least buy us time.” Hotch glances at you for a second before looking back out the window, “What do you suggest?” You tilt your head from side to side as you think, “We build upon what the team already knows about… We have clearly distanced ourselves from each other. The team has noticed… So we make it seem like we are actually mad at each other.” Hotch nods, agreeing with you so far, “An event about two months ago that would cause this ‘rift’...” Hotch scowls while thinking about it. You laugh, “It is us we are talking about. There are too many things to choose from. The team knows you can be a hard ass, and they know I have a smart-ass mouth.” Hotch chuckles, looking over at you. Your eyes meet for a second, and you can’t help but smirk. “Are you willing to get this elaborate with lying to our friends and colleges?” You were joking at first, but you had a serious thought. Your tone quickly changed, “In all seriousness… I don’t want to put your job on the line… Don’t get me wrong I want this, but not so badly that I’m willing to risk your career without both of us being on the same page.” You look over at Hotch. He furrows his brow, “It’s not just my job. It’s yours too.” You let out a melancholy chuckle, “Im young, I haven't built up my whole career yet. I could find somewhere else to work.” Hotch shakes his head, “You’d be miserable.” You shrug and smile, “ ‘Miserable’ is a relative term.” Hotch’s frown sets in deeper on his face, clearly he was starting to rethink things. So you quickly spoke up, “I just want to make sure we are on the same page. I’m more than willing, but if you want to back out before we break any rules, I want to give you that chance.” Hotch stares at you for a very long moment, “What event are we going to use from two months ago?” You smile softly, relieved that he wanted to proceed with things. You thought, “I cursed out that cop which you got onto me for even though the guy totally deserved it.” Hotch smirks, “He did deserve it but still inappropriate.” You chuckle and nod, “We could use that… act like someone in the department complained about it more and is riding your ass about it. Could combine it with several other things for more drama or leave it at that.” Hotch nods, “We can work with that.” You move away from the interior window, “When everyone gets in, we fake an argument and let the team see it.” Hotch moves back over to his desk, “They will see it and shouldn’t ask too many questions about it.” You sit in the chair in front of his desk, “From partners to partners in crime.” Hotch glares at you and rolls his eyes, “Crime makes it sound much worse than it is.” You chuckle, “Fine. Why don’t we plan something fun then? Maybe it will make you less grumpy.” Hotch sits down, crossing his arms, “Something fun?” You roll your eyes, “A date. I mean, we literally put all this effort into the lie to cover up something that hasn’t even really happened yet.” Hotch smiles, “Tomorrow night, we are supposed to have it off.” You give him a smug grin, “It’s official, then Aaron, we're co-conspirators.” With a sigh, Hotch leans back in his chair. As he rubs his temples, you can see a large smile on his face.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators –Part 1*–Part 2–Part 3–Part 4–Part 5 –Part 6

[ellewords]

of course it’s okay with me!

yamaguchi is more like character tsukishima, but more charming and less intentionally mean. yams is really snarky and a bit of a smart ass, but he doesn’t try to hurt people’s feelings in the way that character tsuki does. (sometimes actor tsuki goes to yams if he’s having a hard time figuring out the balance of saying a particularly mean line, and yams is always willing to walk him through it and provide options for how he thinks it would be best to convey the character while keeping actor tsukishima’s personality in mind)

sugawara is very similar to his character. like, it’s kind of scary how similar. sometimes in interviews, he and the cast make jokes about how they think the writers of the show secretly followed suga around for a few weeks to get the mannerisms and attitude perfect for the character. also jokes that he’s really happy that the fans like his character because he doesn’t know if his ego could handle being hated as a character and essentially as a person. he always phrases it as a joke, but you can kind of tell that he’s really sensitive to the topic.

something about kiyoko makes me think she’d be the biggest prankster. she is really similar to her character, but she’s also super cheeky and playful, and no one would suspect it from her because she’s mostly chill and professional/serious. but sometimes when a prank happens that neither tendo nor kuroo claim, you can see her smirking just a little bit, and it feels like a bit in the office when the camera will focus in on her and she’ll just have that look™️. it takes cast and crew a bit to realize that’s she can be just as rowdy as some of the others whereas it takes the fans a single clip of a prank on the second year karasuno boys and a half second of kiyoko appearing in the background with the tiniest smirk.

ukai is very much like his character. he’s competitive and a bit of a hard ass, but he’s also really caring and tends to be able to read people really well. he’s constantly making sure the cast and crew are taking care of themselves in his reluctantly caring about people type of way, and everyone loves to tease him about it. when they do, he gets defensive and tries to act like he doesn’t, but normally he accidentally slips up almost immediately. the cast and crew love him a lot, and look up to him even though he always makes it very clear that he doesn’t understand quite why they do.

mad dog is super timid in comparison to his character. the cast met him for the first time right as they were starting to film, so their first impression of him was that he was super intimidating and angry. the second they stopped rolling, however, he went up to every member of the cast to introduce himself and they were surprised that he was super mellow. people still can’t tell if he’s stand-offish after the first meeting, but pretty quickly they realize that he’s just a little shy so he has a hard time conveying himself right away. cast and crew adore him after the first few filming sessions, though.

kita is almost exactly like his character. he has a routine, he’s consistent, works his ass off, people can rely on him in just about every situation. the only thing really different is that he’s super clumsy. he’s always trying to get things done as efficiently as possible, so sometimes he gets into his own head about it and focuses too hard on what he’s doing, so he doesn’t notice the tiny step in his way or the chair leg he’s walking past. he always tries to play it cool because that’s just how he is, but he does get pretty embarrassed by it, so no one on the cast makes jokes about it because they don’t want him to feel bad. he really appreciates it.

hope you’re having a good day, elle!

aaaah wait all of these are so good anon !! i’m so !!! honestly, your mind.... woah. big brain energy,, thoughts under the cut <33

okay so thoughts bec i love what you sent in :

omg sweet and snarky actor yams ?? yes pls i feel like the fans would honestly be amazed whenever he actor tsukki do press interviews together bec it feels like they just saw the characters switch bodies ?? even four season in, no one is used to seeing yams tease tsukki for a change. also big awe with them helping each other with lines 🥺

awe suga 🥺 i feel like a lot of people would tell him his job is easy because he’s essentially just acting like himself all the time and he would get a bit upset by that because it implies that he doesn’t work as hard as everyone when he absolutely does :((

my girl kiyoko !! i feel like when the cast finally realizes the pranks that neither tendou nor kuroo claim is theirs are actually from her, everything would just go off the rails from there. because if kiyoko pranks people now,, they definitely would too?? there’s definitely a video wherein everything is just utter chaos and she just looks into the camera at the center of it all.

ukai awe :<< he’d definitely be the cast’s go-to if they ever need any sort of advice, even if they’re not from karasuno specifically and esp. if they’re the younger ones still new to acting. he gives advice on anything from love to navigating the entertainment industry. and at first he tells them that “it’s not exactly any of my business” but he finds them later and gives solid, genuine advice.

kyoutani 🥺 awe i can see actor him being so soft spoken and it gives everyone whiplash the second they stop rolling. also probably invited the team over to dinner after he introduced himself so they can get to know each other better :<<

clumsy kita just owns my whole heart, i love that <33

i hope you’re having a good day as well !! <33

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

from this ask | send me your hcs on a characters as cast / actor au !! <33

[pcgued]

[ MADELYN CLINE , CISFEMALE , SHE/HER ] do you hear [ CANE SHUGA BY GLASS ANIMALS ] coming from the beach ? oh, that has to be [ SIENNA DAYTON ] . they are a [ TWENTY TWO ] year old [ WAITRESS ] from the outer banks, and they’ve been living there for [ SEVENTEEN YEARS ] . they were chosen to be on the show because they are a [ POGUE ] , but really , i heard it’s because they can be [ IMPULSIVE & CAPRICIOUS ] . if you get to know them though , they’re pretty [ PERCEPTIVE & UNINHIBITED ] . they might become a quick audience favorite due to their [ INABILITY TO LOSE AT BEER PONG, UNKEPT BRAID FALLING DOWN HER BACK, LIPS CHAPPED AND RED FROM GNAWING AT THE SURFACE.  ] .

hi babes ! i’m may , and i am SO THRILLED we are finally open again !! meet my lil white trash baby sienna , and like this for plots !!

name: sienna lee dayton

age: 22

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual

occupation: waitress

starsign: gemini

pogue or kook: pogue 4 life

–> background !

sienna never had the best home life. she moved to the cut when she was five years old after her dad left her mom , and the lack of steady income forced them into a run-down mobile home

it was a better situation overall, considering how verbally and sometimes physically abusive her father was to her mom, and even at a young age she knew that it was fucked up

after they moved, her mom started working two jobs – grocery store by day, bartending by night – leaving sienna to step up and practically raise her younger brother (younger by two years).

this caused a really strained relationship between sienna and her mother, but also forced her to grow up very, very quickly.

she was a good student and always studied her ass off, knowing if she ever wanted to attend college, her grades had to be perfect. there was no way she’d be getting in without some kind of scholarship.

however, after graduating high school she put college on the backburner – opting to stay in town, continue to help her mom & brother out on the money aspect of things.

she’s been working at the same restaurant since she was seventeen, and though her tips aren’t as great as they used to be, she has tons of regulars from around town who make the job worth it

when she heard about the show rolling into town, at first, she was absolutely against it. why would anyone want to be seen on tv, coming from somewhere like the cut?

but as she looked at their run-down home and her mother still struggling with income, she knew the fame and notoriety that might come from the show would somehow help with their situation. right?

–> pogues vs kooks ! (PRE-season 1/2)

as for the pogues vs kooks situation – fuck the kooks.

she didn’t always feel that way, though. for a while, they seemed almost alien-like to her – a different breed. people with absolutely no sense of what it’s like to struggle, to wonder if you’ll get to eat dinner or not that night.

as she grew up, though, she saw them for what they really were (in her eyes at least) – greedy, selfish, air-headed, assholes.

it all started when she decided to sleep with a kook at a party her senior year – she was drunk, he had been all over her in hidden hallways where no one could see, so why not, right?

when she went to school a few days later and found out pictures had been spreading around, of her, it lit a fire of pure anger in her that she had never felt.

despite reporting it to the staff, no one would confess where the pictures originated from. it was her word against someone else’s. and who would believe a white trash pogue over a kook with a lawyer daddy, right?

if you ask sienna, she isn’t ashamed of being from the cut anymore. it raised her with morals, values, respect, and an appreciation for the simple things in life. if anyone wants to talk down to her, she’ll listen with fists ready to fly.

--> life after season 1 & 2.

sienna did everything she could to lay low after the first season ended. staying off social media, not going into big gatherings, choosing to shy away from group or individual interviews.

she used the money to help find a better house for her mother & brother, and opting for a small apartment for herself.

she was still serving tables at the restaurant, keeping in touch with the other cast mates.

season two, she stayed to herself for the most part, even opting to leave the show for a week. she figured she was there to have fun and found no reason to get involved with the drama the second time around.

however, laying low during season 2 was apparently not a good move. she didn’t make nearly as much money in the end as she did in the first season, with the producers claiming she “didn’t bring much energy or drama to the show anymore”, and almost choosing to let her go.

knowing she needs to step things up if she wants to continue supporting both herself and her family, she is coming into season three with claws ready and head held high, ready to bring season one sienna back -- only ten times as hard. 

–> personality !

(-) impulsive - does not think before she does or says something , ever. she’s more of a “better to ask for forgiveness than permission” kind of person

(-) capricious - she is moody as hell. one minute she might be laughing and joking and the next she might be ready to throw hands. just tread carefully

(+) perceptive - despite everything, she’s a very understanding & thoughtful person once you get past the layer of ‘i don’t give a fuck what you say’. she’s always questioning the deeper meaning of things

(+) uninhibited - will say what she wants, when she wants, however she wants. if she hurts your feelings & you’re someone she cares about, she’ll probably apologize later or give u a hug or something after. otherwise? she doesn’t care. very opinionated and very vocal

pls like this for plots bbs

[seekingthestars]

sarah watches the untamed: liveblogging adventures, part thirty the untamed boys

(aka: oh ho ho you thought we were done, did you? [she did too.])

uhhhh. yeah. oops? no one will care about these but i.love.them. so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

the untamed boys, ep 1:

ji li complaining about waiting forever lol

and cyc complaining about being hungry bc he had to wait so long for ji li XD

fanxing is like…not even paying attention, he’s just playing on his phone HAHAHA

ji li “how about THIS i’ll cut yu bin’s hair doing a handstand, i want to cut his yellow hair” he is truly chaos

yu bin and fanxing just lounging all over each other is adorable, i love this uncle and nephew

bowen LOL “bring it on, who cares.”

“Stop talking about me!” /ZOOMS AWAY — WHY IS FANXING SO CUTE I ADORE THIS MARSHMALLOW

fanxing pouting and clinging onto yu bin and yu bin just letting him and hugging him back, fanxing is a koala and stupidly adorable

ji li sliiiiiiding around XDD

“This is our cultivation process” JI LI ILU

jiyang’s FACE when he says he’s lost a lot of hair already fjeaoiwfjw

[ it’s time for Ji Li’s nonsense ] OH GOOD :D :D :D

“can you control your child please?!” NO BOWEN, NO ONE CAN CONTAN JI LI

JIYANG IS SO CUTE IN THE RECORDING STUDIO ;n;

jiyang in this pink and white striped sweater is Peak Softness

the choreographer being grumpy at fanxing makes me ;;;;;;;;;;;;;; yu bin going to pat him makes me ;u;

zfx saying he wanted to give up and pull out so he would stop dragging the rest down makes me ;AAAA;

when fanxing goes “i forgot my actions just now” and puts his hands to his head it is VERY cute but also i just wanna wrap him up in fifteen blankets and tuck him in bed and give him his preferred bedtime drink and tell him he’s doing amazing TINY BABY ;;

AWWWW they got a Halloween cake!!

you’re ALL doing great my lil beans, i proud of youuuu

the untamed boys, episode 2:

dammit all, xiao zhan is so pretty

GOD SONG JIYANG IS SO CUTE UGH

cyc with his hair all pinned up out of his face so he can get his makeup done is freaking adorable

zheng fanxing is so small and cute i will protect this bean

i appreciate that ji li’s jacket says “Maniac” on the back bc.....yeah. i know it’s part of the brand, but STILL. appropriate. such a good boy though, saying he wants to walk around and put everyone in good spirits for the show

fanxing eating his banana CUTIE

i love xiao zhan’s little hat omg

wyb “I don’t think you have ever beaten me before” LOL SASSY

BOWEN BREAKING THE LITTLE TOY CAR THING AND THEN JUST GIVING UP HAHAHA

xz talking about how hard his solo song is to sing but he does such a great job of it, i love his solo song ;~~~~;

good god yu bin saying they rehearsed for 13 hours and slept for like 1-2, how the heck were any of them alive enough to do the show dang

POOR LITTLE FANXING LOOKING SO LOST AND CONFUSED XD

ji li in the audience cute cute

yibo 😭❤️

jiyang’s fan dance!!!! i love jiyang’s fan dance!!!!

FANXING T______T he’s crying so much he’s shaking omg baby omg now i’m gonna cry ;;;;;;;;;;

cyc is so pretty ugh

god every time fanxing cries i just want to wrap him up in a million blankets and rub his back until he feels better

them all saying goodbye to their characters is so EMOTIONAL, and they’re all emotional and xz’s voice cracked and i lost it ;AAAAAAA;

xz and wyb closing it out, my heart ;~~~~~~;

the untamed boys, episode 3: I’m so freaking excited about this chaos oh my god

THE LITTLE FOX PIN THING ON ZANJIN’S SWEATER. CUUUUUTE. also i like that sweater, do want

they get in the van and ji li IMMEDIATELY starting his chaos by yelling at zanjin omg i am living

them pretending to see Disney omg they’re all so dumb

they look so COOOOLD little penguins

fanxing shielding zanjin’s eyes from the sun like the sweet little bb he is

yu bin with his famous poem he’s such a DORK

fanxing time! “i think the boxes are where our staff is” LOL big brain energy from the small boy

ji li and zzj together!

DUMB AND DUMBER BROTHERS “We 2 are crazy” AT LEAST YOU ADMIT IT HAHAHAHA

FINALLY!!!!!! THE LINE!!!!!! “I DON’T FEEL LIKE USING MY BRAIN OUT HERE TODAY!” ZANJIN, IT IS ICONIC

Bowen’s little baby hop to reach the box fjewiaofawe he’s so TALL

“Why!!!!” omg he’s found two and can’t get anything open XDDD

YU BIN’S CACKLE WHEN HE FOUND THE BOX HAHAHAHA and he got it open! such an easy question, he’s so pleased hahaha

“Wow this game really makes people confused” poor Bowen with the empty brain XD “WHAT.” “HOW MANY CHICKENS DID HE STEAL.” i’m dying HAHAHAHA

fanxing found a box!! so smart, this one, he has much knowledge

JI LI AND ZZJ TRYING TO CLIMB THE POLE OMG DUMB DUMB DUMB

oh my god cyc and he peng tormenting ji li and zanjin is hysterical, they’re so chaotic

YU BIN’S DUMBASS LAUGHTER FJEIOWFJWE

ji li changing what was in the box L O L and STUFFING THE CLUE IN HIS SHOE L O L

bowen is so sweet “i need to hurry up and find a box for fanxing!!!!!” but fanXING ALREADY HAS ONE XD

oh nooo zanjin found a box but it’s the one fanxing already opened XDD

CYC’S DUMB LAUGH OMG

FANXING’S VOICE IS SO SOFT every time he speaks i’m just like FJEWIOF WAIT

he is a BABY

calling fanxing “little a-yuan” look i am weak and i am soft

i love how so far everyone’s been eliminated for just attacking the wrong person lol their web of lies and deception is so deep

why is yu bin stroking bowen’s face lol

omg it’s yu bin’s gross marshmallow time

did they just stick entire unpeeled bananas on the grill 

ji li singing XDDD

yu bin using the eggplant as a mic for bowen XD

cute bunch of boys c:

the untamed boys, episode 4:

(How drop-dead gorgeous they are!) -- Correct caption is very correct

ALL HUDDLED TOGETHER LIKE LITTLE PENGUINS AGAIN :D

“Can we have something to eat inside?” “Or anything to drink~?” PLS JIYANG AND FANXING TOO CUTE

LOL THIS FACE JIYANG

JI LI’S “NO~”

cyc: “HE LIKES SLEEPING NAKED” fanxing: slowly covers ears  XDDDDD

yu bin’s guess of “he talks with a doll before going to sleep” omg i’m dying

jiyang’s like “when did i act cute” and then poUTS AT THE CAMERA fjewioafjawe

them guessing all of jiyang’s before he can even pick a person LOLOL

ji li going “yu bin sent me a message once and i replied 14 days later” LOL I RELATE i have legit done that, not on purpose, i just forget, i’m really bad at forgetting to reply if i don’t see the message/notification constantly, i have goldfish memory

ji li “I quit, I don’t wanna compliment him anymore” XDDDD

fanxing is so small and cute pls he’s like four someone get him a juice box

jiyang, bowen, yu bin VS fanxing, ji li, yuchen!

YUCHEN DANG but also fanxing going “OHHH!!!” and clapping and hopping along in excitement jfeiowafw

fanxing with the big paw gloves omg

yuchen is so good at this

ji li: “it hurts!!” fanxing: runs up to him and cups ji li’s cheeks in his giant paw gloves all concerned SO. CUTE.

them all being dumb and dancing around during halftime fjeiowaf

fanxing sneaking a snack in XD

fanxing trying to grab the ball and just falling over with it PLS SOMEONE PROTECT HIM HE IS SO SMALL

cyc and ji li are both surprisingly good at this, esp. cyc

and then he whacked ji li in the face feioawjfawe POOR JI LI

yu bin’s hat falls off “THIS IS MY LIFE WHICH CAN’T BE LOST” XD

the untamed boys, episode 5: dinner party time! /chants WZC WZC WZC :D :D :D

WZC WZC!!!!!! “I’m just hungry” LOL

AND GUO CHENG!! :D

nom nom eat up hungry boys!!

ohhhh everyone got hidden tasks oh fun!

yu bin just singing omg fjiewoafjwaeo; XDD

everyone in this cast in their own brand of chaotic, it’s so great 

the interview part with cyc in that suit and those glasses HEART EYES

jiyang’s drawing is cute!

wzc about yu bin: “he’s the fish who loves singing in my heart!” XDDD

yu bin’s scribbles of ji li BLESS IT “I usually don’t get what he means, just like this drawing that’s not understandable.”

“what about the lost arm????” “HE DID LOSE IT AT THE END!!!!!!” ilovejili

omg they’re gonna be baristas omg so CUTE, the coffee shop AU of everyone’s dreams thank you 🙏

ji li’s face when he tries the drink HE made XDDD and fanxing consistently refusing to try it XD

fanxing and yu bin duo is the CUTEST and fanxing’s constant little pouty faces when they can’t get anyone to agree to coffee jfieowajfawe

ji li and yi zhou are doing no better XDD 

bowen seeing the puppy and immediately stopping what he’s doing to run after it screaming “OHHHH!!!!!” is such a mood

bowen is so chaotic, chasing puppies, screaming at people in boats XD

fanxing chasing down the foreigner omg lol

they made such a mess of the cup lol but they’re so CUTE i would forgive them if they were my baristas

nie bros got a customer!

“I’m the wiiiiiinner, sorry!” JI LI THAT WAS STUPIDLY CUTE SHUT UP

“What winner, you’re the waiter.” LOLOLOL YU BIN

BOWEN GIVING HIS COAT TO THE GUY HAHAHA

literally the coffee shop of my dreams, pls, all the cute waiters

yu bin just swooping over and shoving ji li out of the way to talk to the lady XDD

fanxing talking to the lady washing dishes and about his mom and all the part time jobs he had and he is such a soft sweet little bean

and we did it! that’s a wrap on The Untamed Boys! (er, the show anyway lol) that was fun, I enjoyed myself and laughed a lot bc they’re dumb and adorable :’)

[deakydeaky]

Being the only girl in Queen pls darling

99% sure this has been done before but we’ll do it

Being the only girl;

When you first came into the group Freddie show how talented you were at basically everything. You weren’t a “misfit” like them but together you all didn’t belong together and that’s why Freddie liked it so much

The boys were a little weirded out because you were a girl. They had a lot of questions and weren’t really okay with the idea. Not that you are a woman but Brian said there should be limits, rules

“Okay, fine.” You folded your arms waiting for them to start

“No sleeping together.” Brian laid it out flat

“Oh no, now I don’t want to be in the band.” You said back sarcastically with an eye roll. Freddie smiled at you. He knew you were smarter than that

“No being besties with the groupies.” Roger told you

“I have more than friendship on my mind love.” Freddie chuckled in the back.” And that’s a no. I get you like to sleep around but keep me out of your girl drama.”

“Is that all? Can we start making music now that you’ve made a ‘no sleeping together’ pact.”

“Respect me and I’ll respect you. I’m not here to be undermined by a bunch of men.” You told them

After that it went a little rocky for a few months

A lot of places question having a woman in a rock n roll band but they knew you were very good

The band was also getting comfortable with you over time

Freddie took no time. They others were a little nervous, because you made them that way. You were very pretty, and very talented and also super smart. It was mind blowing to them that you were in a rock band

Them wanting to break the pact and say whoever you pick you pick

That was until they saw you at a party making out with one of the groupies that Roger regularly has around him. In the middle you were saying goodbye to a gentleman they had never met before

That’s when they decided maybe it was better to see you in every other way but a sexual one

They came at you with open arms since then

Overprotective since!! Like they would kill someone if they laid a hand in you that you never asked for

“No darling I’m being serious, if you could who would you shag?” Freddie asked you as you were all just laying around the hotel room, almost empty bottles by all of you

“I can’t pick.” You blushed as they all waited.” You’re all very good looking men, I would be happy to have any of you. The question is Freddie who any of you go for me.”

“Yeah.” They all answered without skipping a beat

“I’m seeing that the pact was a good idea now.” You got off the bed.” I have Shelly waiting for me.”

“Please quit stealing them from me!” Roger begged you with the groupies

“Hey hon they come to me. Not my fault you can’t do your job right.” You started to walk out.” Goodnight boys.”

Outfits that are the absolute hottest because they won’t let you wear anything that wasn’t

Always sticking up for you when someone has something negative to say

“Is it difficult to have a woman in the band at times? You know how they can be.” The audience laughed at the joke

“Well because she’s not here to defend herself, no.” Brian said to the man

“She’s the best of all of us. She makes Queen something of her own. She isn’t like any of us, yet she fits in so well because, that’s Queen.” John finished it off

Another thing, not being invited to interviews as much

A lot of people don’t see you as part of the band because you are a woman

Then one day you’re on stage and it got super hot. You took off your jacket and had on a white shirt that you could see right through

“Well look at that.” You smiled looking down.” At least the papers will have something to write about.”

You did once have a breakdown in front of all of them when a paper wrote horrible things about you

“They always say stuff like this. We get in there too.”

“You get in there so they can talk about how pretty you guys are! You have no idea what this is like. I’m getting called a whore as you guys are getting called the ‘best band’ which if you haven’t notice, there are no pictures of all of us. Just you four!”

“Oh love.” Freddie felt bad as he saw you crying

“Maybe- maybe they are right. This life isn’t for me, maybe I should just leave.”

“You can’t!” John protested

“Like anyone would notice.” You wiped your cries into your shirt

“We would, the fans would, the music would change. Hell it might get worse, we don’t know.” You laughed out at Freddie

“You are just as much a part of Queen as the rest of us.” Roger told you putting his arm around your waist

After that not caring about the papers and living freely. Wearing, doing, saying whatever you want. You didn’t care anymore because no matter what you’d always just be seen as the girl in Queen

Being in Queen;

Taking pictures all of the time, and videos

The boys taking pictures when you aren’t looking

You walk into the dressing room, in your bra and underwear as they were all taking pictures

You smiled widely and Roger just laughed and took one

“I’m recording!” John blushed out. You waved to the camera

“I need my shirt please.” You reached your hand out and Freddie gave it to you

Always helping them do their makeup

Them being understanding when it’s that time of the month

Brian doing your hair a lot of the time

Roger giving you bangs on accident but they turned out to look good on you

Goofing around all of the time

“Tell the camera something.” John begged of you

“I’ve seen everyone in here’s penis.” You all laughed at what you said

Recordings of you all, all of the time

“Y/N!” You turned around in your seat, you only in jeans and a bra, you makeup not even done.

“I can’t focus if you have a need to film me all of the time!”

“You’re just so pretty!”

The boys loving your energy

You being happy and bubbly all of the time even though you get dragged through the mud the most

Your outfits, like I said, always hot. You always look hot in every way. Like F U C K woman are so good looking and everyone is practically in love with you

Studio fights are usually you and Roger fighting

Parties without you just aren’t the same

You have a wild side but you can be shy around those you don’t know

You’ve all seen each other naked so you have no secrets, also you’ve walked in on each other so many times

You got to take off your bra before Brian stops you

“Cause you don’t know what in there.” Brian just blushed.” Brian please, I’m sweating, they hurt. I don’t- Hans me that shirt.”

“What are you doing?” John asked as you put it on. You took off your bra from inside the shirt and pulled it out. They were all amazed

“How did you?...”

“Practice love.” You put the bra in Brian’s hands

It coming out you never slept with any of them

“So has there ever been anything between you and one of the other boys?” Of course you were asked this

“I know everyone is dying to hear it but no. We accually made a pack that we wouldn’t and we stuck to it. For the better. I like to keep everything professional and they are the same.”

Having crazy love for each other

You all being a literal family

When your dad was sick the boys being by your side

Even closer at his death

When you were getting married John stepped in to walk you down the isle

You all being super close by the end

xx

[sarkarimirror]

MAMAA JOB DONE ,SUCHITRA BACK WITH 'SAWAN BARSE'

New Delhi,December 5,2018 Exclusive interview of Suchitra Krishnamoorthi,Emininent Bollywood Celebrity,Singer with Editor-in-Chief Tarun Sharma  

T.S: please tell us something on how is life after your last movie on big screen.   S.K: Thats a very strange question. Movie is one of the many things I have done in my life and i have enjoyed everything I have done equally. I  am constantly disapointed by how Bollywood enamored our media and public  is to the extent of ignorin other arts and professions T.S: Parenting is something which you can define much better,whats your views on this.   S.K: Motherhood is something that only those who have experienced can understand. Otherwise its like explaining colour to the blind. Only those who hve experienced motherhood can ever understand The all consuming intensity of it vulnerability and yet power of the experience. T.S: How has your daughter changed your life on a whole.   K.S My daughter has been the focus of my existence since she was born. She is now 17 and ready to fly the nest- ie shes busy with her college applications to go study music abroad next year in august. My mamma job is done and now I am back to focusing on my own life T.S :Movies,Author,Aromatic Candlemaking and now a music album,Whats that make you multi-talented.   K.S : am grateful to God for my many talents. Most people struggle with finding that one thing to do. I enjoy doing all the things i do be it singing acting writing painting candle making etc. My creative energy is very high I need to be doing something or the other all the time. And i do it for pleasure T.S: Your music album launched,please tell about that. K.S : My new music release after 18 years! The last time I was promoting a single I was pregnant with my daughter Kaveri!!! Her little teenage friends seem surprised to discover that I sing & I have to remind them that its where she got her talent from after all 

:-) The long gap is not only because I was playing mom which I was doing rather ardently and I have loved every minute of it But the long gap & my staying away from music (though i expressed myself through other creative avenues like painting and writing) is because I had lost my voice and my confidence completely over the last many years. I never thought I would be able to sing again. It was a psychological block - an emotional voice paralysis. Technically/medically my vocal chords were intact but yet I could not sing, When people would ask me to sing I would get severe anxiety like there was a noose around my neck and gradually started avoiding putting myself in such situations completely. Even at family functions where singing songs was a staple part of our lives I used to refuse. Nobody not even me could figure out why Then three years ago I met my wonderful Guruji Ravi Juleji who coaxed and cajoled my voice back into shape with a lot of love and patience.I remember once at riyaaz he told me very sweetly "I am going to make you Suchitra Krishnamoorthi again. You have forgotten who you are but we lovers of music still remember your voice . Memories of that day still bring a lump in my throat. My first attempt at singing was in my musical play Drama Queen that opened two years ago. There i wrote the music and lyrics and kept it so simple that I felt confident that I woud sing it even on a bad day with a hoarse throat. It was a big confidence booster and paved the way My single Sawan Barse happened quite by chance. I was attending a private film screening of a film and a day later one of the music directors of the film Surya Vishwakarma started sending me direct messages on facebook saying he was a fan of my voice & its his dream to record a song with me. Though rather flattered I ignored him for weeks but then when he was persistent, I put my fear aside and said why not lets do it. We recorded the song in a few hours & i played it to some of my friends from the music business to get a feedback on how my voice was sounding after so many years. Atul Churamani whos musical acumen i trust completely and has always been urging me to return to music over the years liked it & insisted I make a video. So i then asked the super talented young director Karan L Butani to come on board and he conceptualized and directed a beautiful video for me. The concept of the video is "return to innocence* It is about reclaiming your essence, reclaiming the purity of childhood , reclaiming the love we owe ourselves. I am excited for this release and already recording a few more songs with some very talented musicians. The music business is very different from when i left it but is more vibrant more flexible and much more fun. Everything is good & its getting better . Tra la la la la 

:-) PS - I will continue to do all the things I enjoy doing so please dont ask me " SO no more painting? No more soap and candle making? No more acting? 🙂🙂🙂 I intend to do it all 😋😋 T.S: What is music to you,does as it is said really connect you to god,pls share your experience. K.S: Like they say God loves all his children. But those he loves more he gives them a voice T.S :How has the so called glam industry of bollywood towards you in so many years,hows the prospective -supportive or negativity.   K.S :People have been very kind to me. Bollywood is a very positive place T.S :Whats the most you liked about your recent launch ,what is your expectations from your old or new fans which will become after listening to your album.   K.S :I am overwhelmed by the response. Especially on you tube and other social media to me. I had completely forgotten the love of my fans. I am happy to be reminded of it and want more and more T.S :A brief motivational message to womanhood at large. K.S :Do your own thing, and value yourself please. Dont ever make yourself small to feed any one elses insecurity. Read the full article

[lonnyrocketreviews-blog]

RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 10 Power Rankings - Ep. 1, 10s Across the Board

One episode in, and I’ve already (mostly) forgotten all about that shit show All Stars 3...but one episode in leaves plenty of time for some buffoonery, tomfoolery, and RIGGORY, so let’s just hold our breath and see what happens shall we? Let’s review some garbage tv.

14. Vanessa Vanjie Mateo I gotta say, I was rooting pretty hard for this girl pre-season. Her Meet the Queens interviews were funny, her energy is high, her personality is goddamn infectious. Just the way she talks makes me happy, and it’s unique among the S10 girls. She picked some good shit to work with this episode, but unfortunately blobbed it the fuck up. I’m sad. AND SURPRISED at how low energy her lipsync was. Considering her high energy offstage, i was expecting that floral blob to explode or something, but alas, Miss Vanjie departs first, THOUGH I would not be surprised if she comes back. RIP (for now).

13. Kalorie Karbdashian Williams I’m gonna go ahead and say that I actually really like MOST of the girls this season, which is rare. Kalorie’s name might be a mouthful (which is kinda why I thought she was gonna be leaving first, at first) and her outfit was BOring, but despite that, she’s cute as fuck and seems sweet and lovable, too.  I thought Vanjie was gonna blow her ass away, but she turned her big booty around and crushed that lipsync. You live to twerk another day, Kalorie.

12. Kameron Michaels Would Kameron Michaels have been cast if he wasn’t ‘hot’ out of drag? I had the same issues with Pearl during S7, but I came around for her.  Will I come around for Kameron, too? Show us some personality, some talent, and we’ll see.

11. Dusty Ray Bottoms I love a punk drag queen. We NEED a lot more edgy, artistic weirdos on Drag Race, but DRB doesn’t really do it for me yet. She reminds me of Acid Betty, but heavily watered down. Her entrance look was kinda lame. Her runway outfit was alright by my taste, but I’m not really living for the sickly dot face, and after getting essentially no time in Untucked I gotta feeling that Dusty Ray will be in the bottom before long.

10. Asia O’Hara Truly stunning. I would kill someone for those teeth, but aside from that, she kinda fell (or was edited) into the background today. Her runway outfit was a lot. Now I like a Lashawn/Ornacia moment but the rest was Jiggly Caliente.  Her temperament was eclipsed by the likes of Monique and the Vixen, which doesn’t bode well for more time on the show. I also haven’t fully recovered from her Meet the Queens nightmare wig. Sorry, girl. That shit was roadkill.

9. The Vixen I don’t know how to feel yet. I hated her entrance look. I didn’t really like her runway look, either. I know what kinda work went into that intricate pool noodlery, but it came out looking a bit small...underwhelming I guess. I might’ve put her lower but she seems to be out for blood in Untucked, and if this bitch is gonna spearhead the “Let’s not be like the Season 9 Best Friend Race” then I say keep her around. The Vixen = The Villain? We’ll seeeeeeee...

Sidebar: people wanna talk about Kameron as the trade of the season...did you SEE the Vixen outta drag? Gimme some of that pls. 8. Aquaria The Ariana Grande of drag. She’s cute as a button but enunciates like her mouth is sewn half shut. Apparently she’s got a big following. Hell, I’d heard of her before S10 and she’s only like 22. This might pull her forward...past her expiration date. Look, I love an aspiring drag artist. I’ve seen some of her work and shows on Youtube and stuff and the girl is talented, but on THIS one episode and her MTQ, it was a little meh for me. Despite this annoying “Aquaria vs. Cracker” narrative, I think the latter outclasses her completely, but she’s got like 10 fuckin years on her. Aquaria is cool, like Pearl, but I dunno if it’s her time. Maybe needs some finessing. The personality and humor aren’t showing for me yet. Good luck in the comedy challenges darlin. Your outfits were neat. 7. Monique Heart We’re getting into the territory where I wanna put everyone in the highest ranks, but numbers are things and math is stuff, so be it. Monique Heart has a lot of good shit. Shes spunky, shes energetic, fun, etc. Queens like her and Vanjie make the show exciting.  I do think she stood out and I’m moderately surprised that she wasn’t in the top.  Her outfit was cool as fuck and her makeup was EXCELLENT. I think she did a knockout job, but because of a lack of narrative they gave her, I’m not sure if she’ll last longer than the others.  I can’t even remember where she’s from.

6. Yuhua Hamasaki Like Vanessa, I’m captivated by this drag queen.  She’s got the personality, she’s got the looks, shes crafty, she’s fun, and she did pretty well this episode. Also can I just say that out of drag...that’s an entire female woman right there. Ok. I like her, but like Monique, I didn’t get a lot of narrative from her this episode other than she’s a Chinese girl cosplaying as Japanese. Huh.

5. Blair St. Clair I have mixed feelings about putting Blair this high, because she really didn’t talk a ton, but I’m landing her here because, like the judges said, I feel like there’s something about her that’s special and exciting.  She’s an underdog - from Indianapolis, young but old school style (contrasts Aquaria big time). This makes for a good storyline. Yeah, maybe she reminds us of Jinkx Monsoon so it’s not exactly a brand-new storyline, but she seems sweet and her runway look was cool as fuck. I’m the most excited to see what Blair St. Clair pulls out next.  Also, out of drag, woman, girl, ladylookaliker. Cute af.

4. Monet X Change A New York powerhouse performer. Queens like this are why NYC has such a huge representation every year. Her runway outfit was kinda bad, but she has the personality, charisma, wit, and sense of humor needed to win this stupid show. A lotta people have their eyes on Monet as their pick to win, but I can’t personally say much more until I see more.

3. Eureka Eureka may not have been in the top this episode, but she sure seemed like she got the most screen time, so much so that I said to myself “Eureka is the main character of this season.”  THE MAIN CHARACTER. People have been calling for a fat queen to win since forever (please, finally), and Eureka might just be the one to do it.  Plus she has this triumphant recovery return narrative going for her already. Judging from storyline alone, Eureka is poised to land in the top 3, if not win the whole shebang.

2. Mayhem Miller I’m saying it with everyone else. FINALLY Mayhem got onto this damn show, and what a start. Popular, great attitude and a win under her belt right out the gate, Mayhem is set up to go far, but being in the lead puts a lotta pressure to keep up the pace, and she’s got some serious competition. ...Now if we could just get Vicky Vox and Rhea Litre...

1. Miz Cracker Drag race winners have ONE thing in common: they’re smart (well, mostly). Sharp wit, great eye for design (I thought she was gonna win over Mayhem’s handsy dress), and a top spot in episode 1, Cracker’s going far for sure. She already seems to be an early fan favorite. The only thing I don’t like about her is the fact that she changed her name from Breanna Cracker. That shit’s hilarious. Again, I’m not interested in the Aquaria vs. Cracker nonsense. Yeah they REALLY look alike, but the future fighting will no doubt feel forced, and I think Breanna might be above it. They might pit them against each other in a lipsync or something, which might not bode well for Cracker, but she seems to be able to dance, or at least cartwheel. That’s more than Bianca can say. All in all I think Miz Cracker gave the strongest showing this episode by a fair margin, and is my current pick to win.

Anydangway, thanks for reading this, if you did.  All of the above words are my opinion alone, but are also facts and I am infallible and never wrong.  I love and hate this show, but was so entranced and excited enough today to start a goddamn review blog about it. Ugh..... I need a shower.

Shoutout to a tumblr blog from a while back called lordthundercox (or something like that) who reviewed RPDR season 7 in this format and it gave me life and inspired me to do one myself.

See y’all next week

[shesinspain-blog]

I moved to Paris!

Happy October!

Not really sure what fall is like here since it’s still 70 degrees. I think it’s just not gonna be a thing. I’m looking forward to temperatures dropping in November and December and having a bit of a chill in the air!

So I’m actually a human being over here you guys. Life is good. I just passed my one-month point litrally yesterday. I can’t believe how much has changed already!

I got hired with VIP KID! YAAAAY. It’s an online organization that connects Americans to kids in China for 30 minute classes. It is awesome. I have taught at least 50 classes already and work from home. My “classroom” is full of props and has a backdrop of ABCs and numbers. It takes a lot of energy to teach these kids, but I’m having a lot of fun with it, and some of them have done multiple classes with me. Today, I taught a girl named Angela about colors and bigger/smaller. We had extra time after class and she was showing me all the things she has that are blue (her favorite color). Then she goes, “Teacher, what is your favorite color?” it was so adorable, I couldn’t stop giggling.

This week I start tutoring privately! I’m excited for that too. The family is about 20 minutes from my house. So yes. I got the job thing kind of figured out. And I also have….

AN APARTMENT!!!!!!

*deafening cheers from the audience*

Yeah the apartment search was awful. Sarah (my BFF) always found our apartments in Columbus so I had no idea how much work it would take. I texted one hundred people for places. I looked at 2 major websites almost every hour for two weeks. I visited sixteen places and spent so much time and energy trying to figure it out. Oh and since the demand is so high right now I was just trying to fit in with *any* kind of roommates. I went to one house where the girl had a dog and was smoking weed during the whole interview. Another house the guy told me they don’t make friends with each other and they don’t like any noise. At both of these (and everywhere else) i was like 

LOL YEAH PERFECT LOVE IT LOVE YOU GUYS HI I’M ARTSY AND ONLY SPEAK ENGLISH PLS LOVE ME

But my home now is perfect. Perfect. It’s on Carrer de Paris (hence this post title lol). I’m including the link to the “AirBnB” guide of my neighborhood bc it will give you a good sense of the vibe! It’s in a really *authentic* part of the city. It’s close to my friends here and it’s in a safe area. I spent 2 hours yesterday walking my suitcases back and forth from my airbnb to my new apartment and I passed so many cafes, gelato shops, and wow there are like lots of plant shops?? Like it almost seems like they can’t all be in business???? Haha I love it. I’m excited to have the day off tomorrow and explore way more.

Businesses here seeeeriously shut down on Sundays. On a scale of 1 to Chik-Fil-A it’s a 10. I kind of like it because it forces me to be lazy or do something low-key. I just bought Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie and I’m planning on reading for most of the evening.

So things are going well here. I almost titled this “Darkest before the dawn” because I had a brutal couple weeks. The house hunt made me feel so defeated and confused about ~my purpose~ and I had a hard time staying hopeful. And before I had a job I was pretty sure I would run out of money (I still might LOL). OH AND ThEN IN THE THICK OF IT ALL MY PHONE BROKE. My mom got a craaazy call from me that day. Having a return plane ticket made me feel like I at least had a way out if things didn’t turn around. And Starbucks is still my go-to in crises (hey, everyone has their vice). But I survived, and all those low points have made me reallly appreciate the successes!

Tomorrow, I’m going to IKEA to get sheets and stuff. This month I’m gonna try to actually go to some museums around here. There are 2 visiting exhibits (Andy Warhol & David Bowie) that I’m really excited to see. And I’m gonna try to find more info about the city’s history and sketch the architecture here… I have a lot to look forward to. It’s easier to make these kind of plans now that I’m not putting the puzzle pieces of life together.

I’m just really happy to be here and I’m enjoying myself! More updates soon :)

And no quotes today, just go watch the Lady Gaga documentary lol

AirBnB guide to L'Antiga Esquerra de l'Eixample