#but to me this is like those old flash dress up games to 9 year old girls

[womenenthusiast2]

Wanted to try a more “painting” like style, but i basically gave up on the background so here’s an awkwardly cut version of the drawing. My still nameless Mc and Helios (belonging to @coeluvr ) together while i can still draw fluff.

Used this picture as reference.

[gucciwins]

Golden Sparks 

Harry is new to town and signs up his eight-year-old daughter, Josie to the soccer team where he takes an interest in the well-respected Coach Y/N.

Word count: 25,027 

A/N: Hello friends! I hope you’ve been well, honestly I had this idea for a while and it wasn’t until I stepped back from another piece and came back this one that it began to flow. im proud of what I wrote and I hope you enjoy. my longest piece to date :) I do hope you all love it. 

Warnings: sweet dad harry, slight angst, slight smut

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

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"You're going to do great."

"I know, dad." Harry's eight-year-old daughter responds.

"Hey, I'm being supportive." Harry shakes Josie's foot, causing her to laugh.

"Thank you, I'm excited. Honest." Josie puts her hand over her heart, making Harry's heart melt.

He hadn't seen his daughter smile this much since they found out about the tryout that was soon to start in fifteen minutes. He felt awful making her move from their home in Georgia, but it was time, and this new opportunity would be good for them. Josie hated to leave her friends but mostly her soccer team with whom she had been with since she started playing at the age of five, but Harry promised he would find her a team, and he did.

The team was different from back home, seeing as it was an all-girl team instead of a mixed team of boys and girls. Not that he minds; he feels this will hopefully allow Josie to branch out and make friends that would not pick on her for playing what they said was "a boy's game." Those parents pissed him off back in Georgia, but he's gone, and he prays this goes well.

"Do you think mom will visit my games more now that we're closer?" Josie's green eyes peer up at him, reminding him that she looks nothing like her mother and is his little clone.

"I hope so. She was excited to hear about the move, remember." Josie nods before glancing at the field where other girls were chatting as they laced up their cleats.

Harry despised his ex-girlfriend, the mother of his child. At the age of nineteen, he became a father, and his ex, three years older than him, didn't want to raise a child to a man who wouldn't marry her. They were together for two months when he called it quits until she came back a month later, calling him an asshole for getting her pregnant. After giving birth to his beautiful girl, she gave him full custody, not wanting to worry about diapers and night cries.

All she worried about was getting her figure back. It wasn't until Josie turned one that she came back and demanded to be part of her life, leading to them going to court and getting to see Josie on the weekends, and it went well because his daughter always came back happy after a visit. When Josie turned five, Claudia moved to California because she fell in love and was going to get married. Claudia didn't care that she was leaving Josie behind. A heartbroken girl not knowing why she couldn't be part of her mother's wedding and why she moved across the country so far from her.

Josie cried for a whole week straight until the ice skates showed up on the front door with a note from Claudia for Josie to chase her dreams. Thus, having Harry sign her up for ice skating classes came to an end in two short weeks when she learned how awful the leotards looked on her.

Josie was then determined to find a sport liking the idea of being active and having the chance to make friends, which led to her seeing soccer on the TV when a commercial of Alex Morgan for Nike came on. She asked question after question until Harry told her okay, and went to call a friend to see where he could find a team for her.

The first team they found was only boys, not wanting to mix, causing both of them to get upset, but a mom took pity on them and told them of the Sunnyville team looking for players. It was perfect; seven girls and eight boys were on the team, and Josie fit in perfectly until she didn't.

At first, Josie wasn't very good; no kid is, but Harry every night took her to their large backyard and practiced with her, and within a few months, she was able to dribble a ball at her feet without looking down constantly. She wasn't the best, but she was improving.

Harry enjoyed every minute he got to help her improve because within the next few years, he saw her go from being timid to push someone away from the ball to beating someone in a sprint.

California was a significant change for Harry and Josie, but this was a big deal for the company, and Josie understood. He was happy he could do something for her now it was her turn to shine and prove why she deserved a spot on the team.

"Now go prove why you're the best, petal." Harry kisses his daughter's forehead, taking her bag over his shoulder.

She takes a step forward before stopping. "Walk with me there, daddy."

Harry's smile softens, "Of course, honey."

They march forward, their steps in sync; Harry can feel eyes on both of them as they pass parents in their chairs, some sitting on blankets spread out on the grass.

There's a woman, dressed in black Nike sweats, some fancy Nike cleats on her feet and a plain maroon tank top and over to cover from the breeze is a windbreaker; the team logo on the left side over her heart and right under is a name he can't quite make out. If Harry's being honest, she took his breath away, she's gorgeous, and she's smiling at him. Harry's sure if he kept looking into her eyes, he would fall in love.

"Hello, I'm Coach Y/N." She greets them with a big smile on their face.

"Hi, I'm Josie, and this is my dad, Harry Styles." Josie steps forward, holding her hand out that the coach is quick to shake.

"Nice to meet you." Harry finally speaks.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. I've got all the paperwork that you submitted, and everything looks good."

"That's great." Harry nods, keeping his eyes on her. "Just Harry is fine, please." She nods, letting him know she heard him.

"Nice accent, you English?" Y/N asks.

"I am, Josie was born there too, but she's lived in the states all her life."

Y/N nods, "No wonder I didn't spot an accent on her." She teases.

"My dad sounds funny, so one of us is okay." Josie jokes at Harry's expense.

"Hey now," Harry pouts, causing both to laugh and his heart to flutter, wanting to make Y/N do it again.

"Now, Josie, how about we introduce you to the girls before we get started."

Josie nods and steps forward to follow Y/N.

Y/N addresses him one last time, "You're welcome to sit by the parents or welcome to stand behind our bench on the sidelines."

"Thank you." Harry watches the walk away, his daughter's bright pink socks standing out around the flash of black, green, and blue. He smiles, knowing he'll have a good eye on her, as will the coach.

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It has been a while since the team had a tryout for the Golden Sparks team. It has not been necessary because most of the young girls are already on the u-9 team.

She had heard the rumor of new people moving into town but wasn't sure, so on a whim, she added them up in places parents were bound to see them; at the grocery store, doctor's office, the school, and the local sports store.

Thanks to the flyers, they got two responses from Mr. Styles and Mrs. Clover, who wanted their girls to join. Mrs. Clover's daughter, Caitlyn, was switching over from a different team, so she knew the girls on the team well. Josie, the daughter of Mr. Styles, would be the only one who needed an introduction as she was new to the town.

After meeting Harry, she was surprised at how handsome and young he was. Most parents here are well over the age of thirty and are married or dating.

She has been coaching for four years now and only started because of her niece Juliet who is part of the team. Y/N's older sister, Clara, had Juliet at 23 a year after her wedding and when Y/N was only 18 and about to start university. It was a good thing she had decided to go to university only three hours away and not across the country as she first thought, or she would have missed so much of her niece's and goddaughter's life.

Y/N had just graduated and knew she would no longer be playing soccer and needed something to do when her sister Naomi approached her and asked her if she could watch over Juliet for the summer so they didn't need to get a babysitter. She was more than happy to accept.

At first, they would paint, color and dance, but they got bored quickly. Y/N wasn't one to spend her time inside, so instead, she decided to take her four-year-old niece to the park with a soccer ball and make the most of it.

At the local park, they both ran around each day, chasing the ball for hours. A week later, Y/N bought Juliet her first pair of cleats, letting her shoot in the nets. As the weeks went by Y/N, saw Juliet improve as well as take direction well. She was a bright young girl, and Y/N knew she was still small, and all she wanted to do was run, but Y/N knew that because Juliet had seen her play, she knew what was right and wrong. There were times when she just ran in circles picking flowers because, after all, she was a four-year-old.

A month into summer, a mom approached her, asking her if she was a coach because she saw her there every day. Y/N laughed it off and told her she was just taking care of her niece. The mom told her it was a shame because her daughter told her it looked like fun. Y/N smiled and said to her that she was welcome to join, and before she knew it, a bunch of little girls came together to kick a ball around.

Only when Y/N had over ten girls showing up every Monday and Wednesday at a designated time did she begin to look at soccer leagues for children, and to her luck, there was one in town, an all-girls league that started from age 4 to age 18. She got the paperwork required for her to be a coach and for the girl's parents to fill out. She pitched the idea, and everyone was aboard.

That is how Golden Sparks was created, and those four-year-olds are now eight. She has watched them grow in front of her eyes. She went through her master's coaching a team. It's just something she does as a hobby, and it's wonderful because she knows how vital her coaches were for her when she was growing up. Now she can do the same.

She loves these girls, which means she had to do trial runs for how well the new girls fit in with the team dynamic. That is why today is an important day for Caitlyn and Josie.

"Ladies, may I please have your attention?" Y/N calls out to all the girls trying to juggle their individual balls as they wait for her.

The girls quickly shuffle over, passing their balls to Kate, who is setting up both nets and getting out the bright pink pinnies that Emilia's parents donated to the team that the girls will be needing.

Josie is standing very close to Y/N, and Caitlyn comes to stand to her other side.

"Now, today's practice is going to be different. We have two guests today. We have Caitlyn, who comes from Ice Angels from across town, and Josie, who comes from Georgia all the way across the country. I hope you will be kind and welcoming because we would be honored to add them to the team."

Juliet raises her hand and smiles, waiting for Y/N to let her speak. "Yes, Miss Juliet," Y/N giggles.

"Can we say something interesting about ourselves when we introduce ourselves?"

"Now, that is a smart idea. I wish I would have thought about it." All the girls smile, waiting for her to share.

"I'll start, I guess." She puts her hand on her hip, exaggerating her thinking face. "My name is Y/N, and I'll be your coach, and something interesting is that I like to paint." She turns to Kate, who is standing there, arms crossed. "You're next."

"I'm Kate, the meaner coach,"

"Kate," Y/N chastise.

"Kidding," Kate laughs, capturing all of the girls' attention. "I'm the assistant coach, and I love making tamales. Next potluck, you'll know how amazing they are."

Kate volunteers Steph, standing next to her, allowing her to share, and before she knows it, all the girls have gone. It's a calm environment, and Y/N is happy she can help these girls be a part of that. There were a total of fourteen girls, sixteen now with the two new girls trying out, meaning they would have even teams of eight, just one more than in an actual game.

Y/N makes two teams by dividing her forwards, midfielders and defenders. Then the scrimmage vest were handed out to the team where the new girls were trying out.

"Four twelve-minutes quarters," Y/N shouts, and in the next second, Kate blows the whistle, and they begin.

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Harry was sweating, his focus was on Josie and how well she was playing, but he also noticed how the coach was whispering to her assistant coach. They were doing a lot of talking, and he did not like it one bit. They had finished two quarters and took a more extended break before the third, where Josie shot him a thumbs up after drinking water. She was too busy talking to a girl to come see him. Harry was happy she no longer felt nervous and was making friends.

He had heard nothing but good things about Golden Sparks and their coaches, but he was nervous about what they thought of his daughter. When they blew that final whistle, Harry let out the breath he was holding. Thankful that Josie would be told her fate on the team.

The coaches rounded them up, and Harry just wanted to rush over there and have them tell him there and then, but no, they were dragging it out for him. Then again, they had more than one player to look after for.

"Golden Sparks!"

It was shouted out by all the girls, and they rushed over to their bags. Josie walked to her bag, handing her pinnie to the assistant coach while Coach Y/N made her way over to another parent. A young girl with a long french braid made her way to the coach, most likely to talk about her fate on the team. Harry moves his gaze away from them when he spots Josie chatting away to a girl about her age, wearing a black top with the team's logo on it. Usually, after practice, she rushes over to Harry, and she slips out of her cleats in the car. It makes him emotional seeing her make friends, something she didn't have many in her previous team.

Before he knows it, the coach talks with Josie and the other young girl before she nods and gets up, swinging her bag over her shoulder. The three of them make their way over to Harry, chatting softly, not allowing him to hear a word.

"Hi, petal. Did well out there." Harry tells his daughter once she's an arm's length away. He frowns when she doesn't rush into his arms to give him a hug.

"Yeah, it was fun. Everyone is so kind." Josie smiles at her father.

"Mr. Styles," Y/N begins, but Harry has to interrupt.

"Harry, please."

"Sure, Harry," she emphasizes. "Josie is a wonderful player."

"I agree."

"But," Harry frowns, knowing this is not going where he would like it to. "Josie tends to hold the ball too much. When given the opportunity to use her left, she takes that extra pass to switch to her right where it causes her to lose momentum and the opening."

"I get it, she's not perfect, but neither are those players out there."

"Dad." Josie gives him a glare to be quiet and listen.

"As I was saying," Coach Y/N, her voice just a bit less friendly. "She has flaws, but we noticed she has lots of speed; she controls the ball really well. She's stellar in the midfield."

Harry shifts his eyes to Josie, who is holding back a smile, and that is when he knows she's in. "We'd love to have her join the team and help her become an even better player."

"That's wonderful, I accept."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm glad you think it's a good idea, but it's Josie's choice to make."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Josie, honey." He steps back, a tad embarrassed.

Josie lets out a nervous laugh, "I had fun."

"How long have you played?" Y/N asks Josie.

"Three years now," Josie says, looking at Harry for confirmation and nods.

"The most important question is how you felt playing with everyone?" Y/N knows how important feeling welcomed to a team can mean to someone.

Josie looks up at her, a smile on her face. "Like I belonged."

"Does that mean you're joining?" The young girl standing behind Y/N answers.

"Yes. I would love to join." Josie says, a grin taking over her face.

"Well then, welcome. Practices are 5-7pm. Sometimes we can have a scrimmage with other teams, and it will be an hour before or after just to take that into consideration. Games are on Saturday, but when we have tournaments, they are Saturday and Sunday."

"That's great. I sometimes get out of work late." Harry confesses.

"It's why practices are later because we know parents work. So just shoot us a text the day before or early morning, and either Kate or I can pick them up as well as other parents. We're great with carpooling."

Harry smiles; he likes how organized they are. He has no worries about Josie joining the team. He's happy, and if he's honest, he is kind of glad to see more of Coach Y/N.

"It was great to meet you, and I'll see you on Monday for practice," Y/N tells both Harry and Josie.

As they are going to walk away, the young girl in two dutch braids speaks, "Auntie Y/N truly is the best. She's the reason I play so well." Juliet tells Harry.

Y/N blushes, "Knock it off. Save the sweet-talk for Kate."

"She's your aunt!" Josie explains. "That's so cool."

"Harry, this is Juliet, my niece and the reason this team exists. I introduced her to the sport at age four."

Juliet nods, "Yeah, because she didn't want to rotten my head with television."

This causes all of them to laugh. Harry and Josie walk away with a smile on both their faces.

Yeah, they would fit just right in. It was beginning to feel like home.

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It's been a month since Josie joined the team, and he's never seen her shine as much as she has since she joined the group. It's like she's a whole new little girl, he hates to admit it, but his little girl is growing right in front of his eyes.

They had recently had a team bonding; they headed to Kate's house to swim and do a little bonfire. Parents were allowed to stick around, but almost none did because they want their daughters to feel comfortable hanging out with their friends and be themselves. Also, all the parents trusted Kate and Y/N with their daughters because of the years of friendship.

Harry wanted to stay the first time, a bit fearful she wouldn't like it and also because he wanted to get to know Josie's coach better. He hadn't had many chances to chat her up, always getting a formal greeting and a goodbye. Harry can proudly say he has a crush on coach Y/N, but he wants to have a chance to take her out and maybe take it further.

Josie begged and begged him not to stay, so he just did a quick hello and then left. What did he do in the four hours his daughter was gone, nothing. He was bored without her. Harry began to watch a movie he'd been dying to see, but it was boring. He went to call his best mate, but it went straight to voicemail, then remembered it was date night for Mitch.

He couldn't drink because he wanted to pick Josie up even though he knew she could carpool, but he wanted to hear all about it right away and maybe get one more glance at Y/N because she looked lovely in her pastel pink shirt, black leggings, and a matching scrunchie. His feelings only grew each time he saw her, but he wouldn't dare pursue anything because his daughter adored Y/N, and he wouldn't do anything to wreck that.

It was Monday, and he was driving his daughter to practice. She was on a high because she spent the weekend with her mom. Claudia managed to make her soccer game and then took her home for the week. Everyone got an insight of his ex and how she was not the kindest, but sure did adore her husband by the way she kissed him the majority of that game. Harry did not want to sit next to them, but she wanted to flaunt her relationship in his face to his luck. Not that he cared one bit, he just cared about his daughter's happiness. That she happened to be a part of.

After they won the game, she sprinted over to them after Y/N congratulated them on the win, and they finished shaking the other team's hands. Josie wrapped her arms around Harry, squeezing him tight before hugging her mother, who just patted her back before letting her go congratulating on her goal.

Claudia's interactions with Josie always made Harry upset, but what was he to do? She gave him full custody and only saw her on weekends. It was easy living, but that doesn't mean he had to like it. He wanted his daughter to have a mother figure to guide her and show her the right and wrong to show her what it is like to be strong and resilient, yet Claudia was none of that for his daughter. Sarah, Josie's godmother, did more of that, and Harry was thankful.

Showing up to practice, Harry was embarrassed and hoped Y/N didn't bring up meeting his ex-girlfriend. Josie was quick to introduce them, but thankfully the conversation didn't last long as she was called over by the other team's coach.

"Can you drive any slower?" Josie pouted, looking out the window as Harry entered the parking lot at a safe speed in case any person happened to cross in front of him.

"Josie, I'm not trying to run anyone over." Harry sighs as he finally eyes an open parking space and signals left, always cautious about an accident.

"Well, I want to talk with my friends before practice." Josie has unbuckled herself and is close to throwing herself out of the car.

Harry puts the car into park, unlocking the car door. "Fly, young one."

The grin that takes over Josie makes Harry happy. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Josie."

Harry slides his sunglasses on, hating how bright the sun was; it'd be a few hours until the sunset. He was nervous; he was dressed in black slacks that hugged him in all the right places with a mint button-down shirt that calls attention. He didn't have time to change today; everyone saw him in his casual clothes, never his work attire. Josie said she didn't mind, but he did. Honestly, he was nervous about what Y/N might say about his look. Not that he cared what she thought. Not one bit, right?

He went to his trunk, got out his purple folding chair, and left the matching one there. Harry is a sucker for deals which is why he walked out of the store with two when he only needed one.

He strolled, making sure no eyes were on him, and he was in the clear until he heard a shout, "Dad!" He looked over at the field, and it was Josie waving at him to sit closer to the parents. Harry shot her a thumbs up; he liked the parents genuinely. They have all been so kind and welcoming, telling him the best places to go for the team's discount.

He got along well with Payton's and Stephanie's parents. They had a good sense of humor and liked asking him questions about where he was from and how Josie was growing up. His daughter had become best friends with Juliet. They were two peas in a pod, talking from the beginning of practice to staying almost ten minutes after as they slowly took off their cleats.

Y/N didn't mind seeing as she had to pick up everything, and the girls were eager to help her if it meant spending more time together. Honestly, she was begging for a sleepover, but he kept telling her no because he wanted to meet at least one of her parents first. He wasn't sure what either one did, but Juliet didn't mind if they couldn't make it to a game because her biggest supporter was already there.

Harry approaches where all the parents sit under a shaded tree, waving at everyone before taking a seat next to a man reading on his kindle. He smiled, knowing he loved reading in his downtime as well. This would be an excellent spot to sit, conversation or not he'd be comfortable, but first, an introduction was needed.

"Hello, don't mean to bother you, but I don't think I've seen you before. I'm Harry Styles. My daughter Josie joined the team last month."

"Well, Harry Styles, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about your daughter. I'm Xavier Torres, father of Juliet." Xavier responded with a bright smile on his face.

Harry doesn't hide his surprise. "I've been dying to meet her parents. She's a wonderful girl, glad our daughters decided to get along."

"Yeah, we come as often as we can, but Juliet always assures us she's fine. That she has the best auntie watching over her."

"Coach Y/N is great with everyone. I've never seen anyone so dedicated." Harry shares.

"She's always been like that. I met Clara in my second year of university. She was only fourteen then, but she was so caring. I wasn't introduced to the family until we've been dating for six months, and she was shy but always offered me water or cookies she had baked. I loved having conversations with her; she has always been the smartest person in the room."

Harry grins; this definitely grew his crush on Y/N.

"I hear they are begging for a sleepover," Xavier comments, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

Harry nods, "Yes, I kept saying no because I wanted to meet the parents."

Xavier smiles, agreeing they were the same. "Yeah, we had to meet the dad."

He's shocked Xavier doesn't ask him about a partner, but then again, Y/N could have easily mentioned meeting Claudia and her husband. Harry's grateful if she did not like having to explain how he's a single dad and how he wishes his daughter's mother would do better.

"Well, now that this has happened, I have no problem with a sleepover happening."

"Glad we're on the same page." Harry laughs, grateful, their daughters will be happy with them.

Harry and Xavier spend the entire two hours of practice talking. Harry has close friends, but he wouldn't be opposed to adding Xavier to his guys' nights that happen less frequently now. At the end of practice, they exchange numbers and promise to coordinate a date for the girls. It may be summer, but the girls are still keeping busy during the week instead of doing nothing.

The girls rush over to them at the end of practice, giggling at the two fathers still chatting away.

"Does this mean a sleepover can happen?" Juliet asks, squeezing Josie's hand she's holding.

Harry and Xavier share a look and nod. "Yeah, it can happen."

"Amazing!" Josie cheers jumping up and down.

"We have to plan a day that works for both of us, so it may be a while." Josie frowns but nods. Juliet does not accept it.

"Auntie Y/N can host it."

"Your auntie is going to do what?" Y/N says, sneaking up behind her tickling her sides.

Juliet lets out a loud shriek, not being able to escape her grip. Harry beams at Y/N loving how playful she is with her niece.

"You can host our sleepover. You aren't busy like daddy and Mr. Styles." Juliet says in one breath after Y/N let her go.

"I do have a job, you know," Y/n says in a sing-song voice. Xavier laughs as Juliet pouts. "But I do have more availability than your parents. I'd do it if both of you were comfortable with it." Y/N looks up at Harry and Xavier, letting them have the final say.

Xavier throws an arm over Y/N's shoulder and pulls her in a hug. "Of course, it's a yes; I'm always looking forward to a kid-free house."

"Rude, daddy." Juliet frowns, crossing her arms.

"Only joking, my little flower. How about frozen yogurt on the way home?"

"You're forgiven."

Y/N waits patiently for Harry to answer as he has a staring contest with his daughter.

He sighs, "Yes," Josie cheers, hugging Juliet. "Only if we're really not imposing on Y/N."

"Please, Harry. I'd be honored to have them over. I'm an excellent host, and my movie collection is amazing."

Juliet smiles. "She does, also the biggest backyard so we can run around and do whatever. There's also a pool." She whispers the last part.

"Enough speaking about my house. She'll get the tour soon enough."

"So it's settled," Harry tells them.

"Guess it is; send me when you guys decide. I'm free after twelve on Fridays, and I'll take them to the game on Saturday, of course, or we can do it after a game. All up to you, gents." Y/N gets it all out there, allowing Harry to breathe a little easier.

"Good," Xavier shouts.

"I'm going home, coming Julie?" As Xavier swings his chair over his shoulder. "Daddy, you have to help auntie Y/N. You just sat on your butt for two hours."

"Hey now, I watched you practice."

"I'm going to tell mommy, you know how she feels about you not helping Y/N. She'll give you an earful." Juliet sasses her dad.

"I don't know where you got all that sass from, but I know I'm going to hate it when you're a teenager," Xavier mumbles as he goes to get the goal nets put away.

Y/N laughs before turning to Harry and Josie, "I'll see you both on Wednesday. Have a good night."

Harry watches her walk away as she races Juliet over to the balls scattered around. He smiles at the ground, hoping he could one day make her laugh that much. He doesn't notice Josie watching him, and she grins, happy that maybe one day her daddy will smile as bright as Xavier does when speaking about Juliet's mom.

They walk hand in hand to the car, both comfortable walking in silence for what the future might bring them.

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Y/N enjoyed morning games as opposed to the afternoon, where the sun was blazing high. She had a hat that was helping with the heat, thankful she hadn't started sweating yet. She loves coaching, but during the summer, it isn't the most enjoyable.

"Hi, Coach Y/N."

She turns her head over her shoulder and sees Harry approaching. She checks him out, thankful for her sunglasses; he's got a black short-sleeve button-down that shines in the sunlight, letting her know it's expensive; he paired it with white linen pants and the beat-up Vans he always wore. He always looks good.

"Nice to see you, Harry."

"How are you?"

"Doing good, bracing the summer heat."

"Yeah, not so enjoyable."

"Ready for the game," Harry says, pointing to the field that will soon have fourteen girls running around.

"Yes, they have been working hard. I'm excited, and you?"

"Oh, nervous," he confesses.

"The girls are going to do great. If they start dozing off, then we can start to worry."

Harry laughs, knowing that she is right. It's about the girl's focus.

"How long did you play?"

"Too long." Y/N jokes.

"Haha," he laughs.

"I started at six and played up until I finished university."

"Wow! You must have been marvelous." Harry is amazed that someone can play a sport that long then go to teaching. He was never the most athletic, but he was a beast at ping-pong that was all hand-eye coordination.

"I would like to think I was good."

"You started coaching when?"

"The year I turned four, and soon enough I was running, and by four she bought me my cleats and bam! A team was created." Juliet answered for her.

"I'm pretty sure you told Harry this already." Y/N laughs playfully, nudging Juliet.

Juliet shrugs, "Just like reminding."

Y/N grins, "Okay, lovebug."

"Plus, you're a great coach."

Harry nods. "I can attest to that. All the girls love you, including Josie."

"And I love them," she tells him truthfully. "We don't get many new players, but we're happy to have Josie. She earned the starting spot as right-wing."

Juliet nods, jumping up and down, "Yeah, she's really good."

"Go on, start the girl with four corners." Y/N pats Juliet's back to get her to go on the field.

"Yes, ma'am." Juliet takes off running, talking to Kate, who helps her get started, and Y/N knows it's her cue to walk away from Harry.

"Good luck, coach."

"Thank you, Harry. See you after."

"Sure, of course. I'll be cheering for you. I-i-i- what-" Harry stutters while she stands there holding back a smile as she can see the heat traveling up his face. "I mean you and the girls. A-all as a team."

"Well, we appreciate it."

Harry watches her walk away, letting out a short laugh, not being able to believe he made a fool of himself.

The game was tied 1-1 with only eight minutes left. Harry could see Y/N was calm, voice firm when speaking to the girls. Lola was about to take a corner kick, he saw her take a step back, and Harry was ready for her to strike it, but instead, she shocks him as she passes to a player who ran up to her.

This startles the other team before Brenda sends it to the center midfielder, who passes it to Josie, who is screaming she's open. Brenda sends a through ball, and off his daughter runs. She gets a foot on it, looking at where the goalie stands. She makes the pass strong enough that the goalie doesn't stop it and just for Andy to tip it in, but it's too strong, causing the ball to go over the net. It's a miss but, everyone didn't mind impressed with the play.

The last few minutes were slow as both teams were tired out, and there was no chance for another goal in two minutes. When the referee blows the final whistle, all the girls bring it in, jogging over to Y/N and Kate as they all round up in a group hug. Harry can't hear what she's saying, but he knows it's reasonable considering all the girls are sporting similar smiles. He is quick to pack up his chair, ready to say goodbye to his daughter, who is about to have a sleepover with her coach and best friend.

The girls come back from clapping the other team's hand and are quick to go sit on the bench and take their shoes off. The clean-up was accomplished quickly today. Harry is waiting to talk to Y/N as she speaks with other parents. Caitlyn's dad praises her for that play, but Y/N is quick to tell him it was all the girls; they are the players. Either way, he hugs her, and Y/N pats the older man back softly. She waves goodbye to most girls when he finally gets to approach her.

"Great game today."

"Yes, they played well." Y/N agrees.

"Your coaching reflects on them."

"In a good way?"

He nods, "The best way."

She thanks him, and he knows she's not one to be boastful, so he changes the conversation.

"You are still good to take them for the sleepover."

"Of course, I'm excited."

"That's great. What time should I pick her up tomorrow?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention earlier, my sister and brother-in-law are coming to have dinner if you'd like to join us. Xavier has been dying to use the grill, and you'll get to meet my sister and my nephew."

"Juliet never talks about a brother."

Y/N chuckles, "It's because he barely started walking, so he doesn't hold much of her attention."

"Ah, that makes sense."

"She loves being a big sister, but only when he sleeps or plays blocks."

"Older siblings got to love them."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you have a sibling?"

"I do. She's 35 and lives in London and runs a law firm. Total badass."

"I bet she is."

"If she ever stops and visits, please bring her around and would love to get all the dirt on young Harry Styles."

"Only if I get to do the same."

"Stop by Sunday, and you'll get the chance." She shrugs at him as she walks away.

"See you Sunday then." Harry shakes his head smiling as she grabs a bag of soccer balls and begins walking to the parking lot.

Josie runs over and gives him a big hug. "See you tomorrow, daddy."

"Bye honey, call me if you need anything."

"Sure, I love you." She yells as she runs to Y/N and Juliet, who are waiting for her at the end of the grass.

Harry knows she's in good hands, but his heart can't help but miss his little girl. He'll see her tomorrow and Y/N as well. He ignored how hard his heart was thumping at his interaction with Y/N instead of letting himself get lost in the idea of the beautiful afternoon that was to come tomorrow.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N had a great time with the girls. She promised she would let them do their own thing and just supervise, but both girls wanted her involved. As soon as they arrived at her house, Juliet gave Josie a tour of her home, taking her room to room before they ended up in the backyard, both dressed in their bathing suits to go swimming.

She couldn't help but laugh, knowing how eager they were to go jump in the pool despite playing an intense game for an hour in the blazing sun.

"You little ladies must eat first before you can even think of swimming," Y/N says, arms crossed over her chest, knowing Juliet was going to try to fight her on it.

"Auntie, that's not what we want to do."

"Maybe so, but your tummy's say otherwise."

Josie steps over from behind Juliet to stand next to her. "I would like to eat. Dad says we need to regain all the energy we worked off."

"Your dad is a smart man, Jo." Y/N nods to the girl. "It's a 2-1 vote, then."

"Fine," Juliet groans dramatically.

The girls sit at the table as Y/n begins to boil pasta. She decides on pesto as she has had a craving, and both girls happily agree. In just thirty minutes, she serves the girls two even plates, and they have a flowing conversation. Mainly, Josie and Juliet do the talking, occasionally asking YN her opinion or a question they want her to answer.

After the late lunch, she sends the girls to wash up and meet her outside to lather them in sunscreen. She puts most of her dishes in the dishwasher and soaks her pans in water, wanting it to be easier to wash later when the girls give her a free moment.

"Thirty minutes we are waiting," Y/N tells them, the sun lotion bottle in hand.

"Come on, you believe in that?" Juliet asks.

"Okay, little miss rebel, since when do you always question everything I say." Juliet's eyes go wide, and she shrugs.

"Alright, listen. I adore you, Juliet, but it's not nice trying to take advantage of me because you have a friend over."

Y/N waits for her to say something, but she nods her head and moves to hug her around her waist. She hears her mutter a sorry, and when Y/N brushes her hair back, she sees Juliet move back to look up at her. "I'm sorry."

Y/N gives her a small smile. "It's alright. Now sit down so I can get your back."

Josie patiently waits her turn, and just as Y/N finishes Juliet, she speedwalks to the edge of the steps and sits on them, letting her feet get soaked. Josie sits patiently as Y/N spreads the sunscreen to her shoulders, then turns her to get her face and neck, allowing Josie to rub it into her legs.

"All done, Josie." She stays seated on Y/N's patio chairs under the shade. Y/N doesn't question her not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Is it okay if I go join Juliet?" Josie asks in a soft voice.

Y/N almost awes out loud at how polite Juliet is, "Of course, go on. I'll let you know when it's okay to go in."

Looking out at the spacious yard, Y/N frowns, getting lost in thought about how she has the perfect home, but it gets lonely. It might be time she looks into getting a pet. She'll have to go check the local shelter soon but knows she should think about it for a while longer.

The ringer of her phone tears her out of her head when she hears the splashing, "Is it, time auntie?"

"Yeah, sweetie, it is."

Quickly she swipes three pairs of goggles from the table just as she begins to hear their splashing paired with laughter.

"Are we playing mermaids, auntie?" Josie asks as Y/N steps into the water, relaxing in the cool water, not suffering from the heat.

"We sure are," Y/N raises the three goggles and hands over one to each of them.  

It's after two hours that they all emerge from the pool, deciding to head into the shower seeing as the sun has begun to set. She ushers them carefully to the shower letting Josie use the guest room and Juliet her room seeing as they are the only two rooms fully equipped with towels and shampoo.

After the three of them are clean and changed in the pj's, Y/N makes popcorn to snack on while they play a few board games. They switch from Uno to Candyland to Mancala. It goes on for a while until they decide to put on a movie deciding on Tangled.

It wasn't until a quarter to ten that Moana watched Maui sing "Your Welcome," they began to yawn and started trying to fight back to sleep. Y/N thought they would never go down to sleep because two eight-year-olds have too much energy. Y/N paused the movie and told them it was time to sleep. Neither girl put up an argument.

She guided them to the guest room that had become Juliet's over the years. The girls get tucked into bed after brushing their teeth.

"Thank you for a great day, Y/N," Josie whispers, grabbing her wrist, halting her, tucking their blanket.

Y/N smiles at the kind girl. "Of course, sweetie. It's been a joy having you here."

Y/N goes to Juliet, gives her a kiss on the forehead, whispering a quiet goodnight who already has her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. She goes to Josie, who's looking at her with wide eyes. "Would you be okay with a forehead kiss goodnight? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Y/N addresses the young girl.

Little does Y/N know that small comment was enough for Josie to seal Y/N in her heart forever for her kindness. "Yes, please." Bright green eyes look up at her with a small smile as she gives her a soft kiss.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Jo."

Y/N goes to her room and does her night routine taking extra steps due to getting more sun exposure today. She loves how she feels putting on moisturizer at the end of the night. She lays in bed under her soft white covers. Her eyes shut, and she begins to count backward. She reaches all the way to one and tries again but stops halfway, sighing, knowing there's no chance she'll sleep; she heads to the kitchen to make herself a tea.

With her chamomile tea in hand, she sets it on the chrysanthemum coaster on the side table, picks up the book she left there, and sets it in her lap as she turns on her television to Netflix, deciding on The Great British Baking Show to use as white noise. She presses play on where she last left off, forgetting the book in her lap as the bakers had to make a raised game pie for their signature.

Y/N had already watched collection three, but it was one of her favorites. She loved the bakers and liked watching Nadiya improve each episode. The technical challenge was getting started, the bakers reading their vague instructions to make the tennis fruit cake when she heard small steps down the stairs.

She turns around, spotting Josie making her way down, "Hi there, you alright?"

Josie just nods but continues towards her, joining her to sit on the couch. "Can't sleep?" Y/N asks to share her lavender throw blanket with Josie.

"Not really."

"Yeah, I get restless sometimes as well."

Josie stares, tilting her head as if trying to figure out why she can't sleep, "What do you do to try to sleep?"

"Well, I usually try to read a book in bed, but I decided tea and a bit of tv would help."

Josie nods, and Y/N can tell she's working up the courage to ask her something. "Can I please try with you?"

"Of course, would you like tea as well?"

"Chamomile?"

"Sure, that's what I was drinking."

"Daddy adds a bit of honey."

Y/N smiles, "Honey, I can do that."

She goes to the kitchen alone, getting Josie her favorite mug with bees scattered all around. As soon as she's done making her tea and checking it is at a suitable temperature, she brings it out to her. Y/N sees Josie has put play on the show.

Y/N just grins, happy the girl likes the show as well. "Have you seen this season?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, me too."

"Nadiya is excellent," Josie comments as Nadiya wins first in the technical challenge.

"She is! I'm glad they picked her as the winner though she had strong competition against Ian and Tamal."

Both Y/N and Josie sit there in silence, sipping their teas, watching the bakers now try to make Charlotte Russe cakes for the showstopper. It's not until the presentation begins that Josie breaks their comfortable silence.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Well, uhh, sometimes I can't get my brain to shut down and have lots of thoughts swirling around."

"Oh," Josie responds. "Do they ever stop?"

"Yeah, usually when I count backward or tell myself a story."

Josie looks delighted at hearing Y/N sharing this with her. "What kind of story?"

"A sweet one, one my grandparents used to tell me, or I make one up."

"And it works?"

"Almost always."

Josie continues with her questions, but Y/N doesn't mind. "Do you get bad dreams?"

"Not always, but sometimes, do you, Jo?"

Josie smiles, "I like that."

"What?" Y/N says, puzzled, aware she avoided the question.

"Jo, dad calls me honey, darling, Josie and Josephine when I do something I'm not supposed to, but no one ever has said, Jo. I like it."

"Oh, I'm glad. It's alright that I keep calling you that then."

Josie repeatedly nods, "Of course."

Y/N looks back at the TV focusing on the new episode that started during the talk.

"Sometimes I dream I'm back in Georgia with daddy." Josie is looking down at her lap, where she draws a circle on the palm of her left hand with her right index finger.

"Yeah, how does that make you feel?"

"Sad sometimes and sometimes happy."

"Why is that?" Y/N asks in a soft voice.

"Well, mommy called me more when I lived farther away. Now I don't get to see her every weekend even though that's the deal. She doesn't even like watching me play."

"That must be tough, Jo. Have you shared this with your dad?"

Josie shakes her head no. "He'd get mad at mom, and I don't want anyone fighting."

"Don't think it's fighting. Your dad just wants the best for you and wants your mom to see that as well."

"I guess."

"Did you know I've visited Georgia?"

"You have?" Josie sits up, crawling closer to her, excited at the change in conversation.

Y/N nods, "My grandparents had family there, so every summer, we'd make our way there. Spent all our time at the lake or just walking through the woods. They lived in a secluded area, so lots to roam."

"We lived in the city."

"I bet you still went to neat places."

Josie thinks about it for a minute, "We did, the weekends were for the lake, and it was easy to drive to another state for a week."

Y/N laughs, knowing how exciting it was visiting a new state in a matter of hours compared to how hard it is in California. "Yeah, I liked that as well."

"What's your favorite memory?"

Y/N stops to think about it; it has been a while since she thought back to her times there. She hasn't had the chance to go back since her grandparents passed away.

"The fireflies. I remember we were in one of my uncle's backyard, and he was showing us his peaches. When I saw a buzz of light followed by another, and soon enough, they were all around us. My uncle tells me he'll never forget the look on my face because it was true happiness and disbelief."

Y/N's smile is nostalgic. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can picture the fireflies surrounding her. She's brought back to the present when she feels a small hand placed over her own.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Josie says before she leans over, giving Y/N a hug.

Y/N laughs and hugs her back, happy she got to know this sweet girl better.

"I think it's time for bed."

"Okay."

As they begin walking up the stairs after making a stop in the kitchen to put their mugs in the dishwasher, Y/N stops outside the guest room.

"You're really wise for your age."

Josie nods, "My dad tells me that all the time."

Y/N can't help the smile that Josie draws out of her, "Goodnight."

"Night."

Y/N goes to bed with lots more on her mind. Her thoughts on the young girl who is caring more on her shoulder than she lets on. Josie has grown us quicker and doesn't realize it due to her experiences. Y/N goes wondering what tomorrow will bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

A lot was running through Harry's mind after the dinner he had on Sunday with Y/N and her family. Trust him; he enjoyed it. He adored seeing her in a different environment, but she seemed distant, and so did Josie. It's as if the two gravitated towards each other more. Always whispering to each other.

He enjoyed seeing them get along; he just didn't like not being included. This also made him second guess in pursuing Y/N. He wasn't willing to risk it not working out. Harry also knows he's not sure if he'd survive the heartbreak.

It's been a while since he's put himself out there, but as a single dad, he feared that no woman he had met was good enough to meet Josie, not after learning that he had full custody.

Y/N's sister was kind, always teasing Y/N but Y/N gave it right back. He could tell the love they had for each other was the kind he shared with Gem. They might not have been that close in age, but they appreciate each other better as adults. Harry loved Y/N's nephew, who stumbled every few steps he took, which is why Y/N took it upon herself to have him attached to her the whole night.

It warmed Harry's heart and gave him all kinds of crazy ideas, for example like a baby that was half him and half her that he'd love just as much as Josie.

Fuck, he had it bad.

Harry's thankful it's Wednesday, and he gets to see Y/N again. He didn't make practice on Monday having Sarah bring her, and today Y/n picked her up from his house where Mitch was watching her because he had a meeting that would be running long. Luckily, he made it just in time before the practice started.

He knew he was going to stand out, showing up wearing creamed flared trousers and a black silk button-down. Harry had taken off his cropped, lapel grey plaid jacket knowing the heat would eat him alive if he left it on.

Harry chuckled to himself as he walked from the parking lot; his folding hair swung on his shoulder. He waved to the parents before setting up alone under a tree, wanting to enjoy the shade today and no conversations unless it was from one specific person.

He sees her pocketing her phone in her bag and knows this is his chance to talk to her. He makes his way discreetly as possible, going behind the parents, who are all currently staring down at their phones.

"Y/N,"

She turns, she scans him head to toe quickly, not wanting Harry to catch her, but he does. He lets it boost his ego a little.

"Harry, a bit dressed up, no?"

He chuckles, doing a little spin for her. "Not at all, haven't you heard business casual is the new uniform."

She shakes her head at him, "We'll take it into consideration."

"That's all I ask."

Y/N looks over to Kate and motions for her to get the girls' warm-up started.

"Dinner was nice."

Y/N nods, "It was. My sister really likes you."

"That's good. She's really funny."

"She knows it." Y/N rolls her eyes playfully.

Harry knocks his hips into her, "Don't worry, you're still my favorite."

"Gee, I was so worried." Y/N fakes dramatically but isn't able to hide how her cheeks heat up at his compliment. "Now, you need to go sit. I have to coach. Parents are going to think I'm flirting."

Harry smirks, "I don't mind the flirting."

"Styles, you'd know if I was flirting."

"I'm just going to say that I very much am."

"Hmm, I'll take that into consideration. For our future conversations."

Y/N joins the girls as they are about to start their second lap; Harry slowly makes his way to his waiting chair, happy that Y/N might like him just as much as he likes her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N pulled Josie aside before the scrimmage wanting to speak with her noticing she wasn't connecting with the team as she had on Monday.

"Doing okay?" Y/N asks as Josie gets a drink of water.

Josie nods, "Of course."

"Well, Juliet told me you didn't want to hang out. She said you had wanted to try that donut place with us on Friday."

"Because I had plans with my mom."

"Oh, that's fun."

"No."

"Why not?"

"She said she was busy," Josie murmurs.

"Well, you're still welcome to join us on Friday. I'm going to take Juliet to get ice cream at my favorite shop after practice. You're welcome to join." Y/N offers, knowing the little girl needs something to cheer her up.

"Does my dad have to come?"

"Not if you don't want him to."

Josie shakes her head no.

"Okay then."

"I'll go ask permission now."

"You can wait," Y/N laughs at her eagerness.

"No. I tell him now, and he can think it over while I play."

"Okay, sure. Don't take long."

Josie nods about to take off, but Y/n stops her. "Josie, I'm sorry your plans changed."

"She's been doing that more." She shrugs as if she's not bothered.

"Just because she is doing that doesn't mean you aren't loved. Your dad loves you and your godparents; the team does as well. I do, also. You're amazing, Josie." Y/N tells her, knowing Josie needed to hear it from somebody other than her father.

Josie's eyes shine, but she blinks the tears away. She gives her a quick hug before turning around and running towards Harry. From the corner of her eye, she sees Josie dramatically asking for permission as she lets her father retie the laces of her boots. Y/N smiles because she loves Josie, and if given a chance, she might also get an opportunity to love Harry. Y/N looks forward to watching what the future may bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Kate had organized a pizza party for the girls because they had been doing so well and thought they deserved a reward. Y/N and Kate always talked about motivating and encouraging the girls for their hard work and dedication. They would do small gatherings or bring them a treat to enjoy after practice, and the occasional Monday off that happened on significant dates or when they as a coach needed a break which wasn’t often because they loved this and the girls.

A pizza party was fun, it allowed parents to interact somewhere that wasn’t crazy hot, and the girls got to eat their weight in pizza. Y/N personally loved it because she got to eat crazy good buffalo wings. Kate and Y/N always shared a basket.

Y/N had sat in a booth with Kate across from her knowing the girls would take up two of the long tables. They rather not squeeze in between when they have a good view of them here.

“Anyone I should be aware of, Thomas, was it?”

“Uhh, no. He turned out to be a jerk who couldn’t get me off.”

“Gee any louder, Katie, would you.” Y/N smiles at Cynthia’s parents, who are in line waiting to order themselves around some beers. Y/N was never one who got into drinking, but it doesn’t bother her those who do.

“Anyways, the one who is coming is Tiffany, and we have been talking for a week, and I think I may be in love.” Kate sighs, a faraway look in her eye as the waiter drops by her beer. Y/N eyes it, not liking how much foam was in the cup.

“You say you’re in love each time.”

Kate rolls her eyes at Y/N, “Well, I mean it this time.”

“Sure.”

“No, you’ll see. Tiff should be here soon. She got the most gorgeous curls and the most perfect brown eyes. Then when she talks Spanish to me, I have an idea what she’s saying, but it turns me on like crazy.”

“I can translate for you.” Kate rolls her eyes, knowing Y/N’s Spanish was perfect due to her high school and college years, not to mention she took YMCA classes at seven. “Anyways, let us move on from the conversation.”

“Okay, let’s talk about your sex life.”

Y/N chucks a piece of lettuce at Kate hitting her square on her chin. Before Kate can retaliate, Harry steps towards them, “Hello, ladies.”

“Hi, Harry,” Kate responds by making crazy eyes at Y/N.

“Mind if I join you, don’t think Josie would like me sitting with her or alone.”

Y/N nods, “Of course, but only if you don’t mind sliding in. I like the edge seats, or you can sit with Kate.”

Kate shakes her head no, “No, he cannot. My date should be here soon.”

Y/N gets up to let Harry slide in, he does a little wiggle to get to the other side, and Y/N does her best to hide her laugh. It seems to work, as he didn’t mention it. Y/N feels her body heat up because their thighs are touching. She feels ridiculous getting worked up over a simple touch.

The next hour flies by, and Tiffany arrives during that time, and Y/N loves her. She is as gorgeous as Kate described, her hair long falling down her back in thick ringlets, her brown eyes captivating, and her golden skin shines with just a hint of sunlight. She can see why Kate was smitten, but getting to know her and Y/N can happily say she’s a perfect fit for her best friend. She hopes it works out for Kate because this will be a heavy heartbreak if it doesn’t.

Y/N excuses herself, wanting to check with the girls. She approaches the table sitting by the pinball machines. The girls have question after question for her that she happily answers. She looks to see Juliet, happily leading a conversation with a quiet Jo sitting next to her staring out the window.

She excuses herself from the girls and places a hand on Juliet’s shoulder, who stops her chatter to grin up at Y/N before continuing like she never stopped. Jo just smiles at her before looking at the other girls acting as she was involved in the conversation, but Y/n knows better.

“You alright, Jo?”

“Of course, a bit full, that is all.” Y/N stares at those green eyes long and hard before nodding.

“I’m just over there if any of you need anything.”

“Yes, thank you, coach.” Most girls answer in unison.

Y/N goes back to their table, and Harry smiles, scooting over, “Saved your spot. Susan tried to nab it.”

“My hero.” She giggles.

The conversation around Y/N flows easily; she laughs and comments. There is a moment where Harry squeezes her thigh affectionately when she makes a witty comment defending him and his style. She wishes he’d rest his hand there, but he moves it back on top, also not wanting anyone to be suspicious.

As much as Y/N is having a lovely evening, her gaze drifts over to Josie, who hasn’t uttered a word since she was with her.

Harry is too busy chatting and having a nice time to notice how quiet Josie has gotten, not that she blames him; the place is loud and complete because it’s a Saturday afternoon. This worries Y/n as she has seen Josie withdrawing more and more but didn’t want to believe it. Josie hides it reasonably well.

Y/N hopes she’s wrong and that sweet Josie is only having an off day.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry was happy to see Josie loving California. He knew it was a risk moving across the country when the East coast is all she had ever known. Josie has shown him nothing but happiness; he can't wait to see how she does in the Fall when she goes back to school. The great thing is she will have friends due to the girls on the team. Also, he hates to admit it, but it has been good for Josie to see more of her mom. Allowing them to build a better relationship. Harry only wishes the best for his daughter and hopes he has been doing that so far in her life.

It's Wednesday, and Harry feels his weeks go by faster now that they have a structured routine. He always gets excited because he knows that he'll have a chance to chat with Y/N no matter what.

They arrive five minutes before practice starts, making Harry rush out of the car, holding Josie's hand as she pulls him along, wanting to apologize to Y/N.

Y/N approaches them as they reach the area where all the girls have just started their warm-up lap.

"We're so sorry. We got stuck in a traffic jam." Harry rushes out, hating to get his daughter punished for his tardiness.

She shakes her head at him, not bothered. "Go on join the others, Josie," she gently touched her shoulder. "I've got to chat with your dad."

Josie gives her an uncertain look, but she assures her with a smile. She runs off, joining the second lap at the back of the two lines.

Harry stands there, uncertain, not sure what she needs to tell him. By the solemn look she has, it might not be good.

She walks off to the side a distance from the parents and has an eye on the girls finishing up their warm-up laps before going into a stretch.

"Josie brought up something I think you need to know."

Harry waits, allowing her to go on, knowing he shouldn't interrupt.

Y/N takes a deep breath before looking him in his eyes, "Josie says her mom told her she needs to stop calling her and to stop with the visits. That she's pregnant, and that's her priority, not her."

Harry's jaw drops. He didn't know Claudia could be so cruel to their daughter. He wasn't even aware she was pregnant or that she wanted more children. Mostly he hates that he does not hear this from his daughter.

"She told me she was afraid of how'd you react to the news, but I told her she needed to address it, and by your reaction, I assume she didn't."

Harry shakes his head. "No, we celebrated the win and had a good weekend. Seemed happier than normal honesty."

"It's common for kids to try to block it out. As someone who had to go through her fair share of child therapy, I feel like it would be good for her to see a therapist." Y/N tells him, voice gentle, knowing this is a lot for Harry.

"Why" Harry bites back, defensive. "She's fine, happy, and laughing."

"Harry, I'm not saying she's not, but she needs to talk about it. Jo won't be with you, and it's because she trusts and loves you and doesn't want to hurt you. She thinks she is protecting you; an eight-year-old shouldn't be trying to protect her father."

Harry feels himself boiling, no longer wanting to hear any more of what she has to say.  

"The signs are there."

The signs," he scoffs.

"Quietness, sadness, isolation, anxiety." She points to the field, and he turns to see Josie stretching alone, lost in her own head. No longer sitting between Juliet like she always had the last few weeks. A frown on her face seems to be permanently placed.  

"You've got no right to say this." Harry wishes she never brought this up.

"I'm doing this for her, not for you."

Harry has had enough; he wants her to hurt her like he is right now, which is why he lets his mouth speak before he can think over what he has said, "Who do you think you are? Honestly, you're a lousy soccer coach who has nothing better to do but judge kids and their parents."

"Harry," she whispers, trying to mask her hurt.

"No, you've said enough. I think you can forget about Josie playing for this team." His voice dripping with venom. "Seems all you wanted was extra cash in your pocket with the addition of a player ."

He walks towards the field. "Josie, we're leaving," Harry doesn't care that the other parents are watching now. He throws Josie's bag over his shoulder as he watches her jog over to him,

"We just got here. I was warming up."

"Josie, we're leaving." No room for argument in his voice, but Josie stands her ground.

"I don't want to leave." Her voice falters as she stares up at him.

"Josie, don't."

"Dad, I like it here, Coach is-"

Harry cuts her off, "Enough, Josephine, you're not coming back here ever."

Those words bring tears to her eyes; she drops her head, defeated. She follows behind Harry and turns to look at Y/N one last time, shooting her an "I warned you look."

Y/N watches them walk away, and she can only hope this is the last she sees of them. She shakes all her feelings out, knowing she has all eyes on her right now. She's got a team to coach, and just like that, she brushes away Harry and his cruel words, knowing they'll resurface later in the appropriate environment.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

After leaving the practice field, Harry And Josie did not speak a word to each other or the next day. They continued in silence, not for Harry's lack of trying to get a word out of Josie; she was just that upset with him.

All he received were head shakes, and Harry was worried. He cooled down after and let everything sink in, but the damage was done; it was too late.

That same night Harry called Claudia to confront her to tell her he would be taking her to court to forget seeing Josephine. All she responded was that it was quite alright. She was giving him full custody and would be sending him the paperwork she had already signed. Then hung up the phone on him.

Harry was appalled that a mother could do this to their child, to abandon them with no care. He always knew Claudia wasn't a good person, but he wished better for his daughter, and right now, even he didn't feel good enough for his angel girl.

On the fifth day of silence between his daughter and him, he received an email he was tempted not to open due to who it read the sender was. He did so anyway; it was the name, phone number, and location of a therapist nearby. The email read professional, not a hint of the last few months of knowing each other. There was an endnote that said to give her as a reference. He knew he would think it over for now.

On the seventh day of his daughter ignoring him, he called the number that he marked down on his phone. He called and set up an appointment for the following day; he knows it could have been longer if he didn't name drop Y/N. Harry knows he needs to apologize, but he's not sure where to begin or if it would be appropriate to show up at her house, but he decided to focus on one thing at a time, and that would be Josie.

Harry would have liked to walk hand in hand into the big building with big windows overlooking a secluded private park, but Josie walked ahead and sat herself on the rainbow-colored couches for kids and picked up a Judy Blume book to read.

Harry walks to the front desk and admires all the photos pinned up behind the receptionist. He knows they must be patients with only their first name signed. His favorite is a dinosaur swimming on a floaty holding a milkshake; there was some natural talent hanging on the wall as well as a lot of imagination.

"Sir, here for?" The receptionist called him for his turn, not noticing the person in front of him was now seated.

"Styles, Harry. Well, Josephine," he corrects. "Sorry."

"No worries, all parents do that their first time."

He awkwardly laughs.

"Dr. Sylvia Hernandedz will be with you shortly." He thanks her, going to sit on the black couch. He sinks right in full of comfort.

Five minutes later, they are called to go. He reaches for Josie's hand, and she lets him take it but doesn't make any move to hold him; it's as if he's carrying dead weight. Harry sighs but follows behind the receptionist.

"Hello, Styles family, lovely to meet you." A woman in her mid-forties greets them, a nice styled bun not a hair out of sight. Glasses on the bridge of her nose. She has a dark blue pencil skirt and a white buttoned shirt tucked in. He feels not as uncomfortable as he thought he would.

"I'm Syliva Hernandez, and you must be Josephine Styles." She leans down to be eye level with Josie and sticks out for her to shake.

"Yes, Dr. Hernandez. A pleasure to meet you." Josie responds politely.

Dr. Hernandez smiles. "Now, how'd you know I was a doctor?"

"The frame behind your desk shows your credentials." She points to the USC doctorate hanging behind a desk full of framed photos.

"Well, aren't you an observant girl?"

"Thank you."

"Would you like to accompany me to this playroom while I chat with your father? I can have my friend Alycia join you if you don't want to be alone."

Josie shakes her head no, "I'll be fine. I like being alone sometimes. I had a very wise person tell me it's okay to want to be alone sometimes, but it doesn't mean you're alone."  

"Did your dad tell you that?" Dr. Hernandez asks.

"No."

"Very, well off you go. We'll have an eye on you but feel free to use all the items in there."

"Thank you." Josie slips right in, grabbing paper and colored pencils, carefully pulling out her desired colors.

"Have a seat, please, Mr. Styles."

"Thank you."

He sits in the mahogany chair; he can't say he likes it much.

"These chairs are awful. My office is better furnished, I assure you."

Harry tears his eyes from Josie to look at the therapist.

They are silent, and Harry isn't sure what to do.

"Uhh...Y/N Y/LN recommend us to you. I'm not sure if they informed you or I had to let you know."

"Yes, I'm aware. She's a great person." Shutting down conversation.

"Your daughter's birthday."  

"December 13th, she's eight".

"How long have you been separated from her mother?"

"Since before her birth. We have a court agreement that I get weekly, and she gets her weekends, but that has recently changed. I have full custody of her.

"How does that make you feel?"

"Not okay; I grew up with divorced parents. My mother never remarried. I have an older sister, but we live in different countries."

"Do you fear the same for her?"

"Think it's worse for her. Josie's mother told her she didn't want her anymore because she would be having a baby. She didn't even tell me. She told--," he cuts himself off.

"Who did she tell?"

"Her soccer coach."

"A female?

"Yes. They are close. Have a real bond, an understanding of sorts."

"Do you think she is looking for a female to look up to?"

"It would make sense. My mother lives in London, and we only see her on holidays, same with my sister. She gets on well with my best mate's girlfriend, Sarah. She taught Josie to play the drums a bit. Also, Glenne, a dear friend."

"Male figures in life?"

"Too many. Mitch, Jeff, Adam, and his kids. Tyler, a family friend."

"It seems she has paternal figures, but she's searching for maternal figures." She states before continuing, "What's the reason you brought her in?"

"The coach addressed to me that she was worried that she was withdrawing herself, becoming anxious and lonely. Less happy. I didn't see it, but we've gone a week without speaking, and I've seen her mope and stare off a lot."

"Is she still seeing her coach?

"No, that's part of our not talking. I got upset over the suggestion of therapy and took that away from her."

"It led to a negative response."

"Yes, and I feel awful about it."

"It seems that the sport and coach are important to her and who she is. It's what you call a safe place."

"But she was beginning to withdraw from there as well," Harry states, not knowing it couldn't be so safe if she was isolating herself.  

"Well, we'll have to talk with her. Are you comfortable with me speaking with her alone? I do have to let you know what I speak with her is confidential. She can tell you about it, but you cannot ask me."

"Yes, of course. It's fine, I understand." Harry knows therapy can be scary, but it can also be the start of something better.

"Well, let me call her back."

Dr. Hernandez stands and opens the door, "Josephine, come with me, please." Josie nods her head, putting the colored pencils away and bringing her picture with her.

"I apologize if we took too long."

"Not long. Enough to finish my drawing." She shares, giving the doctor a small smile.

"Can I have a look?"

Josie hands it over, Dr. Hernandez turns it so they can both see what she drew. It's a photo of a goal net and who he assumes to be himself in the net. A little girl with two pigtails standing there, hands raised, and another female is to the side cheering with a megaphone.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you," Josie says proudly.

"Do you think I can keep it? Have you sign your name and add it to the front desk."

"Would you?" Josie's eyes go wide at someone other than her dad hanging up her art.

"Of course."

"That'd be wonderful." And for the first time in a week, she turns looking up at Harry. "Did you hear that daddy, Dr. Hernandez wants to keep it?

"I would too; it's beautiful, darling."

"I can make another."

Harry smiles, grateful, his daughter is her vibrant self, "Thank you, honey."

"Josephine, are you okay with your dad stepping out and you talking with me privately one on one?

"Yes, I like you. Also, you can call me Josie."

Dr. Hernandez nods in acknowledgment before turning to address Harry.

"You can wait in the waiting room. Alycia will bring you back to discuss in my office when we are done."  

Harry mutters okay and walks out, closing the door behind him. He walks a few steps before laying his head to rest on the wall. This has felt like a lot, but he also feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder.

Maybe I need to see a therapist. Harry thinks to himself, liking that he got a lot off his shoulders in just a short amount of time.

He's walking down the hallway when he hears a familiar voice, one he didn't think he'd have the pleasure of ever hearing again.

It stops him in his tracks.

He hears her voice once more and follows it out to the waiting room he's supposed to be waiting for his daughter.

Harry sees that she is talking with Alycia, and as he steps closer, he feels like it is harder to breathe.

"I have three more clients before I'm done for the day, but I have a thirty-minute gap, so maybe we can order smoothies, my treat." She tells the secretary handing her two twenty bills so that she can get everyone a drink.

"Y/N," he gasps out.

His eyes roam her body; he's never seen her dressed, so office official always used to see her in shorts, sweats, leggings, and a t-shirt. She's wearing this blue satin silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers and low heels.

She is gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

Y/N turns, not at all trying to hide the surprised look on her face.

"You're here." She nods; he's not sure why she's here.

"Here's your next client's file. They are doing an intake. You have over half an hour."

"Great."

Harry is now standing in front of her. "You work here?"

Y/N nods.

"You're a therapist." He states.

Y/N can clearly see he wants to talk and knows a better place to do it than their waiting room filled with waiting people.

"Why don't we talk in my office?" Harry nods, ready to follow her, but before he can, she turns to the desk once more, "Hold my calls, please, Alycia."

"Of course."

"Follow me, Harry."

They walk in silence as they pass Dr. Hernandez's door. She opens her door, allowing him to enter first. It feels bright and full of color; the wall's painting is pale green and hanging on the walls; she has lots of scenic photos and drawings. The chairs are nice, a red velvet couch pushed against a wall, her desk is not that big, he notices. It lacks pictures compared to Dr. Hernandez. Her degrees are placed on a bookshelf. She has it color-coded in colors of the rainbow, which is quite impressive.

"Have a seat." She offers all the open space.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, and he follows.

Harry feels underdressed next to Y/N, and that has never happened before; he is always the one showing up in extravagant and overpriced suits.

"You work here." He waits for her to confirm.

"Yes, I'm a therapist here. Dr. Hernandez was my advisor during my undergrad. She knew what I wanted to accomplish for my career. They offered me a job, and I accepted. They have been supportive of obtaining my doctorate."

Harry is very impressed, "Congrats, that's wonderful."

"Thank you."

They both quiet down, not sure who should go first. Harry is about to start when Y/N begins to speak.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry. I went about addressing it wrong, and I never meant to upset you. I apologize." Y/N keeps her eyes on his wanting him to see how sincere she was.

"No need, I've taken a week to reflect on what a jerk I was. Having Josie give me the silent treatment for a week was torture." Harry confesses, scratching his neck to avoid reaching for her hand.

"Is she okay? Harry, that's a long time." Y/N's voice laced with concern.

"I'm sure she's chatting Dr. Hernandez ear off as we speak."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I brought it on myself by taking her away from one thing she truly loves."

Y/N nods, not able to disagree with Harry. "Yeah, I understand."

"Is that how you know she needed therapy because you're a therapist?"

"Yes. I saw the signs, but I mostly observe and never address it, but from the conversations I've had with Josie and the relationship we built, I felt like I owed it to her to get her help." Y/N pauses, debating if she was ready to share more of herself with Harry. "It was also that I saw myself in her, it felt familiar, and I wanted to help."

"I'm going to tell you a story."

Harry can tell it's not going to be an easy one as she's not staring at her hand, focused on the lone ring she has on her index finger. "You don't have to."

She reaches over and squeezes his hand once to let him know it's alright. "I was nine years old when I walked in on my dad cheating on my mom with his secretary. I told her as soon as she came home and she didn't believe me. She went as far as calling me an attention seeker. By the end of the week, we were living with my grandparents. I didn't see my parents again after that day. At age ten, I started visiting the counselor because I blamed myself for my sister no longer having parents. I wouldn't even allow myself to talk to her; I was just consumed by guilt taking all the blame when I shouldn't have."

Y/N knows Harry's gaze is on her, but she doesn't dare look up, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. "Don't think I've stopped since then. A big reason I'm doing the job I am now is for those who helped me along the way.

"Y/N,"

"Harry, no pity comments. I've made my peace, sure the trauma never truly leaves, but you overcome it."

"Thank you for sharing that with me, I know I don't deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Harry needs to apologize; he wants to leave here today knowing he didn't lose a friend.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Harry, you-"

"No, I really am; I didn't mean a word I said. I know you're more than a coach, and you're not lousy; you're brilliant. You're my daughter's favorite person. I didn't mean it, and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I accept your apology, that was a bad day for all of us, but I can move past it if you can?"

"Yes, I would love that. I feel awful you're someone I trust, a friend. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

"Thank you, Harry."

"One more thing."

"Yes, go on."

"Can you recommend a therapist for me? Talking with Dr. Hernandez was amazing, and I think I would benefit from it."

Y/N doesn't make any comment, just nods. "I'll send you a list of therapists but do know you'll always find a friend in me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to watch over you as you get drunk."

Harry chuckles; he'll keep that in mind for future references.  

"There's a knock on the door. "Yes, come in."

"Sylvia is ready for Mr. Styles."

"Thank you, Alycia. I'll walk him to her office."

Y/N stands, and Harry follows close behind as they make their way out to reunite him with his daughter.

"Y/N, can I hug you?"

She bits back the smile threatening to overtake her face at how small he looks asking. "Yes, that's fine."

Harry doesn't wait for another second; he throws his arms around her holding her tight. He hadn't been lucky enough to hug her before, but now doing it, he doesn't think he ever wants to go a day without one.

They walk out, both having heated faces due to enjoying being the embrace of one another. She walks them a few doors down and knocks, waiting for the go-ahead to go in.

"One last thing," She says, pointing a hand to his chest."

"Name it." He'd give her anything.

"Jo comes back to the team. You bring her to the game this weekend."

"Yes, of course."

She beams at his response, "Great."

Y/N peeks her head in, locking eyes with Sylvia. "Alright, to come in, Doc?"

"Of course, Josephine, this is my good friend and coworker Y/N."

Josie turns and smiles wide, jumping up when she sees her walk in with Harry right behind her.

"Hiya, champ. Seems to have found your dad lost out here."

Josie giggles and runs into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"I've missed you."

"As have I little miss sunshine. I missed my fastest midfielder at the game. All the girls missed you."

"Awe, I'll be back," she looks up at Harry with a look of worry on her face. "Right, daddy?"

"Yes, darling. Got a game at ten am on Saturday."

Josie lets out a loud shriek.

"So this is Coach." Dr. Hernandez says with a knowing smile.

"Yes, she's great," Josie responds, holding tight to Y/N's hand.  

Y/N chuckles. "How about you and I go draw a picture to add to my office while Dr. Hernandez and your dad tie up some little things."

"Okay."

They walk out hand in hand as Josie catches up with Y/N on everything she did on her week away. Not shying away from how she handled the now resolved issue with her father.

"You don't look as blue," Dr. Hernandez comments."

"Sorry," Harry blushes, having been lost in thought on the two girls who just walked out.

"Mr. Styles, your aura is soft, kinder."

"Yeah, I think she has that effect on people."

"You might be right."

Things are finally looking up, and Harry looks forward to rebuilding his relationship with Josie and hopefully creating one with Y/N besides their parent and coach relationship.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been two weeks since Josie came back to play, and thing's have been going smoothly. Harry begins helping out with cleaning up at the end of practice to talk to Y/N more. He asks more about her job and how the doctorate is going. He worries she might be juggling too much, but she assures him she has a smooth dynamic of handling everything.

It's a cold Saturday morning, it's the quarter-finals, and the nerves are high for everyone. The girls finished on top of the leaderboard, but the league likes doing a championship game to honor all the hard-working teams.

Y/N is quieter this morning, and all the parents have picked up on it. They are used to her light and kind nature, wishing everyone a good day and accepting treats. Cynthia's mom is in charge of snacks for today and offered her a muffin one she never says no to except today.

It immediately puts everyone in a skittish mood.

Truthfully, Y/N isn't here for the parents, but the girls and the team they are against is the dirtiest. Most girls are nine and will be moving up a division, but Coach Roman teaches them that dirty plays will make them win. Her girls are strong players, but she reminds them of the importance of sportsmanship and playing with heart.

Y/N even makes sure she cannot be approached by anyone, only the girls and Kate, as they start to warm up on the field. The girls do their drills as Kate stands quietly by your side.

"Someone can't take their eye off of you."

"Stop."

"It's true though, he was pouting when he saw you on the field clipboard in hand," Kate says with a giggle.

"Shush."

"Going to ask him on a date?"

"Only if we win."

That shuts Kate up, "You're joking."

Y/N slowly shakes her no, "Girls, two lines, run through side net shots."

Kate and Y/n stand back to back as the girls pass, and they kick it-bag, giving them only a second to angle themselves. This is one of their favorite warm-ups, and she's glad she can still talk with Kate during it.

"What made you finally decide?"

"I realized he's not going to make a move because one he fears I'm going to reject him and two it goes horribly wrong, then he might never show his face around here again. I'm positive he likes me."

Kate nods, "he likes you, adores you. He's got it bad." She's quiet for a moment before starting up again, "I know we're going to win, so how are you going to ask him? I'm going to need all the details."

"I'm going to go up to him and ask him out to dinner, simple as that."

Y/N changes the drill marking the end of their conversation; she leads the girl into two groups of keep away while Kate takes Dawson, their goalie, to keep warming up.

Before they know it, captains and coaches are called. Coach Roman is smug and annoying as he shakes her hand. The girls pick heads and win the coin toss. They choose to have kickoff; Roman's girls decide to stay on their side, meaning everything to their advantage as they have the slight uphill to battle through for the first half, and the second will use it to their advantage.

The starting lineup is quick to attack, and in a matter of minutes, Juliet scored a goal from a pass from Imelda. The girls' cheer, happy to be leading the game. They know better than getting cocky; if anything, this intensifies their speed at playing. The next twelve minutes of the second quarter are stressful as Josie makes it a two-zero lead from a corner kick. Just as half-time is to be called, a midfield slips through the defense from the back and gets it over Dawson's head, and just like that, the referee calls it.

Y/N can't remember the last time she was this anxious. It's foul after foul, and she's had enough of it.

Kate is quick to round up the girl, not wanting to monopolize all their time, wanting them to relax mostly to stay in a positive mindset. Kate leads the talk letting them know they are doing well and that the left-wing is getting beat, but having the downhill in favor should help her out now. Y/N went around making sure each girl was safe and had no injuries, only grass stains on their knees.

"Be aggressive, but don't stoop to their level."

"Yes, coach" is heard in unison as a response.

Each girl goes to their bags and starts to stretch, knowing they can't approach their parents because it's easy for them to influence them on how they are playing. Everyone respects it, but there are a few times a parent comes by.

She decides to take a walk, getting away from the girls. She just wants to relax and not be as tense for the end of the half.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears someone call her name.

"Fuck, Harry. You scared me."

He raises his hands up in defense. "Sorry, I was just checking if you are okay?"

Y/N doesn't hesitate to rush into his arms, tucking her head into his neck. Harry, without hesitation, wraps his arms around her. He runs his hand down her back softly, hoping she finds it comforting.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." She holds him tighter, so he goes on. "You're okay, yeah, doing a good job. Girls are playing well. Taking care of each other, just like you taught them."

She slowly nods her head, she's calmed down, and Y/n thinks it might have to do with his soothing heartbeat.

"Deep breaths, love, Come on with me."

Harry breathes in and out until she does it with him. He feels her relax and tries to pull her back, but her grip is tight.

"It's okay, not going anywhere."

"Sorry," she whispers.

"No need to apologize, love."

"I just don't like when coaches teach their girls to play dirty; I hate injuries. They're just kids." She whispers, looking up at him now.

"They'll be okay."

"You don't know that. We have two quarters left."

Harry knows he won't be able to comfort her like he wants when he hears the ref blow the whistle. "Look, the girls are about to start, and they need a coach."

She nods, knowing she has to go back to her coaching mentality. The girls are her main priority; she can do this.

"Thank you, Harry."

"I'm here for you, whenever you need."

Y/N jogs over, nudging Kate playfully, who is shooting her suggestive eyes. They let the captain lead the huddle and listen intently before wishing them luck. The parents clap as the team cheer echoes out.

Only twenty-four minutes left, they can do this. She knows they can. The referees assured them he'd get a better eye on them, not wanting anyone to be carried off injured. Y/N refuses to take her eyes off of her girls. Constantly reminding them to keep communicating with each other when she hears them go quiet.

The last two quarters pass much quicker than the first; the girls play with more fleeting touches, not allowing the other team to put pressure on them.

Just when number eleven is close to getting the ball, Leslie switches the ball over to the other side; Y/N is shocked at how well Josie brings it down, she constantly struggles with this at practice, but she knows that Josie has been putting in the extra work.

She can hear Harry clapping and cheering on Josie; Y/N shouts her praise, letting her know she's doing well. Andie gets a breakaway, and it's a one-be-one versus the goalie. She fakes right as it goes left, touching it in softly, and in it goes. Y/N can't stop cheering, feeling the buzz all over her body. She's incredibly proud of the hard work they have all put in. Just as they reset and the ball is passed back, the whistle is blown and signifies they have won.

Golden Sparks are moving on to the semi-finals.

The girls are quick to jog in and tackle Y/N and Kate in a massive group hug. Y/N is going to be basking in this happiness for the entire weekend.

Y/N sends all the girls to their parents, letting them know she was okay doing the clean-up on her own. Kate stuck around, as did Juliet, because she wanted to have breakfast with Y/N telling her parents they were not welcome to come even though the invitation was extended to them. Clara and Xavier did not take any offense, happy to go back home and nap the morning away if their young toddler would let them.

Y/N approaches Harry after she gets everything settled in her trunk. He smiles at her, walking over helping her close her trunk as they wave by to Kate together. Josie and Juliet hang out in Harry's car, going through his Spotify playlist as they skip song after song, not being a fan of his taste.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, "I've been working up the courage to do this."

"Do what lovely? Harry asks curiously.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Y/N feels her stomach tense up as she waits for a response; by his wide eyes, she can tell he wasn't expecting her to say that, but he plays it off well.

"Asking me on a date?"

"I am."

Harry agrees, "I'd like that."

"Does Friday work for you?"

"Yes, great."

"I'll uh, pick you up."

"Proper wine and dine, love." She chuckles because, yeah, she wants to swoop Harry off his feet just like he did to her without even trying.

Y/N gives him a hug holding him tight for a few seconds, smiling up at Harry feeling giddy that they had a date planned after two months of flirting that they weren't sure would go anywhere.

"Juliet, we got to go."

"Okay, auntie." Juliet slams the door just a tad bit too hard, making Y/N mutter an apology.

"Bye, Harry."

"Bye, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Friday had arrived quicker than Harry expected. He got to see Y/N during the week because of the practices, and he was texting her every chance he got. He wanted to let her know he liked her and he was serious about pursuing her. It's been a long time since his last relationship, but call him cliche with Y/N; it all feels right. That everything is falling into place like it should.

Now here he sat on his couch waiting for Y/N to arrive; he had changed his outfit three times because she told him casually, and he couldn't settle on a look. It wasn't until he put on a plain black tee that hugged her arms just right and white linen cropped pleated trousers that he felt ready. He even broke out his new white Vans for the evening.

Harry was about to check the time when there was a knock on his door. He couldn't tame the butterflies in his stomach if he tried. As he opened the door, Harry let out a laugh because there stood the most beautiful woman holding up a bouquet of red lilies. He's falling in love, and there's no stopping him; he just hopes she's there to catch him.

"Hi Harry, these are for you."

Harry laughs, not knowing how to react to receiving flowers, "I'm speechless." He accepts them and gently cradles them in his arms. "I'll put them in water, and we can go."

"Sure, no rush." Y/N admires his living room, never having stepped foot in his house until today, and it's small but cozy. There are photos of all his family framed on the wall to her right. He has a small bookshelf that holds more vinyl than books.

Harry comes back and sees her staring at a photo of Josie on her first birthday covered in cake from head to toe. "I'd give you a tour, but I'm actually really excited to start our date."

"I'm sure they'll be another time."

She walks down his driveway to her parked car allowing Harry to have a moment to look her over. She's dressed casually; she has high-waisted jeans that show off all her beautiful assets. Her lavender cardigan looks warm; she left it open to expose a white plain top. It is genuinely a casual look, but she makes it look over the top.

"You look beautiful," Harry tells her as she stands by her car door.

Y/N does a small twirl before jokingly curtsying for him. "Glad you think so. Those trousers are doing your thighs justice if I do say so myself."

Harry giggles loving how easy she compliments him.

"Right, I wanted to take you mini golfing but considering it's a Friday and summer, it's going to be packed with teenagers."

"Oh, you definitely saved us."

"Yeah, I thought we could take Josie during the middle of the week as a date. I bet she'd enjoy it. Although, I never keep track of points because I'm too competitive."

The date has barely started, and she's left him speechless twice.

"You want Josie to join us on dates." Harry states.

She looks over at him quickly as they are stopped at a red light, "Of course, Harry. She's your daughter; I don't expect you to find a sitter every time we want to go out together. Isn't it like if you're dating me, you're dating my daughter."

He chuckles, "but not on our first date."

"Honestly, I think we were long overdue for a date."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you out all summer long," He confesses.

Y/N gasps in shock as she signals a right turn, briefly checking her blind spot before making the turn. "Yet, it only happened with a few weeks left in summer."

"Yeah, but we got here, didn't we?"

Y/N leans over and places her hand on his thigh, squeezing him twice, "Yes, we did."

Harry sees her turn into a diner that looks a bit run down; he doesn't dare question her because she seems so excited as she gets out of the car and waits for him by the trunk. Y/N extends her hand for him to take, and he does without a hint of hesitation.

Y/n leads the way, but he hurries to open the door for her. She thanks him with a squeeze of the hand. Walking in, he was startled at how Harry felt he was transported to a seventies diner. The booths were red and looked sparklingly new. To the left was a jukebox that he was desperate to have a look at, maybe dedicate a song to Y/N. The floor's black and white pattern shined at him as the waiter wore a nice button-up with a black bow tie, a red and white striped apron thrown over, his name tag said James.

"After you," Y/N said, wanting Harry to pick a booth side; he knew better than to fight her and slid in on the left side. Harry is surprised when Y/N slides in right next to him. "This alright, Harry?"

Harry grins at her, dimples on display just for her. "Yeah, just caught me by surprise."

She opens up the menu sliding the other one away so they could share. Y/N points to some of her favorite items on the menu and cringing at ones she disliked.

"You know the menu well." Harry states before deciding on the turkey burger she had raved about.

Y/N chuckles, closing the menu. "My grandparents brought Clara and me here every other weekend, never letting us eat out. My grandmother was against the food industry, and she knew the owner here prided themselves on giving back to the community. Always holding fundraisers or donating to local teams."

"Fast food industry isn't the best, but I thank them because I can get Thai food delivered to my house."

Y/N doesn't have time to respond, as their waiter comes back with two glasses of water. "I'll have the turkey burger, no onions, and fries instead of the salad."

Harry didn't know she didn't like onions but made a mental note on it, "I'll also have the turkey burger and the side salad. Oh, and the couple milkshake, we agreed on strawberry, right?"

Y/N nods her head, "I had forgotten about that, but yeah, two straws, please."

"I'll have that out shortly," James tells them, walking away.

"The shake is too hard to die for; it has whipped cream on the top and bottom. It's freshly made, nothing like the canned kind. It's large! Made to be shared, thank goodness you remembered."

Harry shrugs, "That's what I'm here for."

Harry loves how easy conversation flows with Y/N. He doesn't have to force himself to say try to think of a topic or question to ask her. She's very open in sharing herself with him, he's never had someone drop down all his walls this quick, yet again, he might have dropped back ages ago.

Y/N talks to him about his grandparents and how adoring they were. That they supported all of her dreams, even the ones that we're crazy, like wanting to become a witch because she wanted to make flowers grow from her palm. Harry shared how the first year of Josie being born, he felt like he never slept, always nervous something would happen. He also tells her how living in Georgia is something he didn't enjoy, but he also didn't want to bounce Josie around from school to school. It was only date one, but Harry was excited for what the future had in store for them.

When James came back to drop off their burgers and shake. Y/N didn't even hear him too busy laughing at a dumb joke Harry had told her; he can't even remember the joke he made because her laugh is music to his ears.

Y/N waits for Harry to take his first bite, and he decides to tease her just a bit. He slowly raises the burgers stopping an inch from his lips; Y/N sits there, chin perched on her hand as if she has all the time in the world to wait for him.

"I'm in no rush, casanova." She smirks, not falling for his game.

Harry knows eating burgers is nothing sexual, so he decides to go all in. He moans at the first taste he gets, it's juicy, and the pepper jack cheese is perfectly melted, adding an excellent combination.

"Love, that is an amazing burger."

"I know." She's already gotten a bite in. She eyes his salad plate for a moment before looking back over to her fries.

"You want some, sweetheart?"

Y/N giggles at his comment, "God no. I eat healthy enough already, thanks to Juliet, but can I have some of your ranch?"

Harry understands eating healthy, he does it for Josie, and since Y/N is constantly around Juliet, it makes sense she would change her eating habits but does know as an aunt she's easier to give in to desserts. Not that he minds; he needs more sweetness in his life.

"Sure, you eat it with your fries. That's interesting."

She shrugs, "I don't think it is. Everyone in my family eats fries with ranch, including Josie."

"If Josie starts eating fries like that, I will know who to blame."

Y/N bumps her shoulder with Harry, "Haha."

They eat most of their meal in silence. Occasionally, Harry steals a few fries causing Y/N to chuckle before turning her plate, so Harry didn't have to reach over her. She doesn't chastise him about not ordering fries if he wanted some. Harry likes how much he enjoys spending time with Y/N.

"What's one thing you hope to accomplish within the next five years?" Harry asks as Y/N passes the shake back to him and takes a generous drink. They had finished eating, and now we're trying to finish the shake that Harry thought was smaller than what had arrived at their table.

"My usual answer is a doctor, but what's happening next year, so, give me a moment," Harry waits for her, watching as she plays with the rings on his right hand. They went front sitting thigh to thigh to Y/N, hooking her leg to Harry's, causing her to lean more on him. Harry liked it, and if he wasn't somewhere public or their first date, he would have pulled her into his lap. He took a chance and set his hand on top of her thigh; to his surprise, she placed her hand on top of his, intertwining their fingers together.

Every little thing she did made him fall deeper and deeper.

"I want to run a marathon."

"A marathon? I didn't know you were a runner."

"Oh yeah, last December I ran a half marathon, and it was hell, but once the runner high hits, it's the most wonderful thing."

"Why not do it now?"

Y/N frowns, taking off the rose ring from his finger and slipping it on one of hers. "The training is rigorous. You have to work up the miles constantly and eat better. I would rather enjoy the upcoming year."

"Well, when it happens, I can't wait to be there cheering you on." He tells her with a hopeful look.

"I'll hold you to that, Styles."

Harry smiles, hoping she does, hoping he gets to spend many more years to come with her in his life.

Y/N excuses herself to the restroom, and Harry decides it's a good time to pick a song. He approached it grateful to half a quarter hanging in his pocket. The jukebox looked old but well kept. Harry saw over 100 songs but searched for a specific one in mind; he was thrilled to see it was on there. Just as it started to play, he saw Y/N walking back towards him, so he hurried over to slide into their seat.

"You know, you're kind of clumsy."

"Am not," he denies.

"Oh, sorry, so it wasn't you who bumped into the table as you made your way to sit down."

Harry decides not to respond, knowing she saw him embarrass himself, and instead starts singing along to the song. The smile on her face widens as she hears how good he is.

"I'm not surprised you picked Fleetwood Mac, "songbird" is a sweet song."

"Am I that predictable?"

She nods, "Jo always sings one of their songs; at the sleepover, she said that's what you played most, so I taught her my favorites."

"Is it you I have to thank for the ABBA and Selena obsession?" He playfully glares.

"Guilty. She needed to brighten her horizon."

"Josie doesn't even know Spanish."

"Ah, but she will now."

"You're weird." Y/N shrugs in acceptance, knowing he meant it as a compliment.

As Harry's song comes to an end, she jumps up and rushes over to pick her song. She doesn't shy away about dancing her way back over to him. She mouths along to "The Name of the Game," moving her body to the beat.

"The name of the game?"

"You know it, darling."

Harry feels the heat in his cheek and hopes Y/N won't bring it up. She gets him flustered in just a few words.

"You know this is about falling in love with your therapist," he states

"Harry!" She exclaims. "No, the song is open to interpretation."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's about the early days of your relationship and wondering if it'll be something more or not. Also, that bridge, I mean come on."

Harry loves how passionate she is about the song. He loves that she's not afraid to share her thoughts with him, and he realizes he's doing the same. He can't help himself and leans in to press a kiss to her temple, throwing an arm over her shoulder to pull her close as they sit there listening to the song to the end.

"Ready to go, angel?" He feels her mutter a small okay, as she gets up, offering her hand to him as he's at the edge. "Let's go take care of the bill."

Y/N chuckles, "Already did, Harry."

Harry pulls her back, turning her to face him, "When?"

"The restroom, oldest trick in the book."

"Sneaky, sneaky."

Y/N, let's Harry lead the way out this time; they say goodnight to the staff and hurry over to the car. He didn't bring a coat, and he still wasn't used to how cold California got at night. He thought summer meant warm nights with a gentle breeze, not chilly air. Y/N seemed to not mind it, not hurrying after Harry as he jumped into the passenger seat.

"Afraid of the cold, H."

"Yes, why is it so bad?"

"Didn't you get snow in December up in the peach state? Also, aren't you from where the sun never shines?" Y/N teases him as she settles in her seat, turning on the heater for Harry.

"We visit occasionally; I can handle the weather with the appropriate clothing." He pouts at her, rubbing his arms.

Y/N turns around, reaching for something in the backseat before settling in again and settling it in Harry's lap. She doesn't say anything besides dazzling him with a smile and pulling out of the parking lot.

Harry slips it on over his head and finds it fits him loose, "I hope you know you might not be getting this back."

Y/N turns to look at him as he drags the collar up to his cheek to feel the softness it still holds, "That's my coach sweater. Kate got me a few, all in different sizes; I wear this one because I like baggy hoodies."

Harry smiles at her, he knows everything they have done has been in reverse, but he loves how confident she is. He knows she's been hurt before in the past from what she's shared but not once has he felt her trying to hide or push him away. He wants to tell her everything he's kept locked inside, he's never felt like this before, and he hopes the feeling never goes away.

"You know, if people see you wearing the sweater, they'll start talking."

Harry turns in his seat, facing her as the street lights shine on her face. "Let them. I've got no shame in people thinking you're my girlfriend. If I'm lucky enough, it might come true."

Y/N shakes her head, thankful for the darkness because he won't be able to see how her face heated up. The drive to his house was short, he wished for the night to never end, but even he knows he's not that lucky. Harry lets her know it's okay to pull into his driveway as he had his car parked on the curb right.

"I'll walk you to your door." Harry holds her hand the short way to where they will soon have to say goodnight.

Harry doesn't try getting his keys out; instead, he turns her to look at him, wanting to remember her in this moment forever. His last first date. Call him crazy, but there was no one else for him. It was always Y/N; he just had to find her.

"I had the best night with you," Harry whispers, pulling her close by her waist. She rests her hands on his shoulders and nods. "We're doing this again, Y/N."

"I got a second date." She cheers.

Harry leans his forehead against hers, smirking as he hears her breath hitch. "You get a second, a third, a fifth, a one hundred. You name it, you got it."

He's so close to closing the gap between them, feeling their breaths mix together.

"That means you'd be stuck with me for a long time."

"I want to say forever, but that might be too soon."

"Our secret." She whispers, her eyes dancing from his lips to his eyes. "Please kiss me, H."

Harry knows he won't ever be able to deny anything she wishes in life, mainly because he was close to losing her once before.

His lips moved slowly, savoring the feel of her against him as he pulled her close, letting himself rest against the door. He felt the butterflies in his stomach going crazy as she moved her hands to his hair, tugging on the small curls. Harry pulled back in fear of letting out a moan at the intense pleasure she made him feel.

Y/N pulls back breathless but presses her lips to his cheek, not wanting him to touch to go far. "Will you give me another, darlin'," Y/N nods a starry look in her eye as she lets Harry swoop in and take control of the kiss. This second kiss is faster and more passionate. Harry was holding back before, but now he wants her to feel everything he makes her feel. Harry wants her to know he gives her goosebumps and fireworks.

"I could kiss you all night." Harry trails kisses on her cheeks, loving how lost in his touch she is.

"Too bad, I need to rest. I've got to coach a game tomorrow."

That statement is enough to bring Harry back to reality, where he has to wake up extra earlier to pick up his daughter then drive her to the game. They have to say goodnight, even though neither one of them wants to.

Harry pulls away, dropping his hands from her waist; Y/N follows by letting her hands slide down from his hair.

"See you tomorrow?" He winks at Y/N as she walks backward, creating distance between them.

"Of course, we got a semi-final to win."

Y/N walks to her car, touches her lips feeling the lingering heat on when he kisses her breathless. She is turning on her car, making sure her headlights are on, when she sees Harry rushing down the steps toward her, the smile on his face contagious.

"What is it?" She asks as she rolls down her window, knowing she wouldn't leave soon if she got out.

"A kiss for the road."

Y/N couldn't dare deny him a kiss, especially when she was craving more already.

Harry slipped a hand the back of her neck, fearing she'd pull back sooner than he wanted. Her lips tasted like cherry; he figures she put on chapstick. This was only their third kiss, but it had only gotten better. Harry swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, begging for entrance, but she pulled back, letting out a breathless laugh at the pout he made, no longer able to feel her against him. She leans and pecks at the corner of his mouth, whispering a goodnight as he steps back, letting her drive away.

It may be too soon, but he might just love her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

The semi-final had to be one of the most intense games she had seen the young girls play. It was goal after goal from each team, neither one backing down on the pressure.

In the second half, she told them she was proud that if they kept playing how they were, this game was theirs. Going in a 3-2 lead, the girls stood shocked when, in a corner kick, the other team had been able to get it into the back of the net and over Dawson.

Kate thought this might knock them down, but it sparked something in all of them. All the parents stood up from their seats when they saw them dance around the opposing team switching the ball side to side. Honestly, it was something far advanced than they've ever presented.

Y/N was in awe; their communication was at a new level. There wasn't much time left, and Kate feared penalty kicks even if they were prepared for it.

Lani had control of the middle field; she just needed to get it past their defense. Juliet had defenders marking her tight, no way able to make a run towards the goal. If they played it right, Juliet would draw them out, leaving a gap allowing them to make a run for it. That's all they needed for a foot race.

Kate was sitting on the bench holding tightly onto Sarah Beth's hand, not able to take the pressure; then again, no one could take it. It all happened so fast; one moment, Juliet ran towards the midfield, two defenses following close behind when she got a touch on the ball, letting her send it back where it came from, then straight down the line. Jo and Franny ran down both sides too far ahead to be stopped; Jo was able to get a touch on it, crossing it straight to Franny, who shot at goal but was stopped by the opposing goalie. Jo was there for the rebound striking it in.

Goal!

She did it. She made the final goal.

Jo was quick to be bombarded by the rest of her teammates hugging her as they ushered back for the kick-off. Y/N wished she could run in there and hug her, telling her how proud she was, but for now, shouting 'great job' and 'stay focused' would be enough. Y/N looked over at Harry, who was wiping his tears still yelling proudly for his daughter, and like he knew she was staring, he looked over at her giving her the cheesiest grin she had ever seen on him.

The game finished, and the Golden Sparks won another game, taking them to the final the following week. Y/N congratulated the girls telling how proud she was of them and the hard work they put in each game. She told them she can't wait to see them on Monday and to have a wonderful weekend. Then told their parents to spoil them a little extra this weekend that earned a cheer from all the girls.

As Y/N was packing up her things, Kate and a few other parents already helped carry everything over to Kate's car. She felt arms around her waist.

"Hey, quickster," Y/N says, turning, allowing her niece to hug her properly.

"The girls are going to get ice cream if you want to go with them; Emilia's mom will text you the address," Juliet asks, but Y/N has spent enough time with them and wants to let them be.

"Thanks for the offer, but you have a good time. I'll let your mom know Emilia's mom is dropping you off." Juliet nods, giving her one more hug before hurrying over to Emilia's car, where Jo also happens to get in. She sends them away; she notices Harry a few vehicles over putting a bag away when she reaches her car.

Something comes over her because the next thing she knows, she's calling his name and standing next to him.

"Hiya, love. Doing alright?"

Y/N tucks her hair behind her ear and nods, "Yes, all good. That was an exciting game."

"Good to hear."

"You doing anything now?" She asks, peeking over her shoulder, seeing Kate has her eye on her, but she just rolls her eyes before looking back at Harry.

"Going home, my munchkin left me."

"Well, there's a great Mexican restaurant here if you'd like to join me for lunch."

Harry smirks, "Asking me on another date, are you?"

"I have to when I know you're still a bit nervous about making a move," she confesses bashfully.

Harry's not surprised she can so easily read him; all the walls he had left are gone.

"Then I'd be honored."

"Great, uh good. Just follow me then."

Arriving, they were seated quickly. A plate of chips and salsa were delivered shortly, Harry asked for guacamole. Y/N didn't argue, knowing for many people that was one of their favorite dips. Personally, she wasn't a fan. She didn't like the texture. Most people were shocked at the revelation, and no doubt Harry would as well.

"What's good here, love?" Harry says, leaning into her side to peek at her menu instead of opening his.

"Hmmm...honestly everything. I always get something different when I come, but you can never go wrong with tacos."

"Alright, you want to share?"

Y/N shrugs, "We can. I'm not picky, but I am starving."

"Have some guacamole; you haven't gotten any."

"No thanks, I'm not a fan."

"You serious?"

"Yes, Harry."

"That's strange."

"What is?" She sets the menu down to look over at him.

"I mean, it's fine. At least you'll never buy avocado toast for like six dollars." He chuckles, and Y/N can't help but join in.

Their waiter comes over, "Estan listos para ordenar?"

Y/N nods, "Hola, si. Dos tacos de asada, y dos de al pastor. Por favor."

Harry is staring intently at his menu, not speaking a word as they wait for his order. "You alright, darling?"

He leans close to whisper in her ear, not able to focus on the term of endearment, "Can you order for me?"

She doesn't tease him, just smiles, "Y una orden de enchiladas rojas."

Their waiter smiles and walks away, promising to be back shortly.

"Have we discussed you speaking a second language?"

"I thought we had." She brushes it off like it's no big deal.

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I took YMCA classes from age seven and did so all the way until college. Even have a minor in Spanish."

"Impressive."

"Sorry if you felt uncomfortable. They speak English as well but primarily speak Spanish."

Harry shakes his head, not wanting her to feel bad, "No, I was just caught by surprise. Hearing you speak Spanish was a turn-on."

"I'll keep that in mind." She winks at him, glad to see the blush spread on his cheeks.

Lunch went great, just as she had expected. They shared food, Y/N enjoying Harry's enchiladas much more than the tacos. Harry happily ate the three tacos she left after eating most of his plate, not that he minded. Y/N appreciated how open he was in sharing food. She had always done it growing up, so Harry allowing her to do the same made her find more profound comfort in their already growing relationship.

Harry beat her to the bill, and she let him take it not without letting him know she'd get it the next time. They stood outside together, allowing the nice breeze to brush over then neither one was eager to say goodbye. They knew they would see each other soon, but with the growing affection, they just craved more time together, more time getting to know each other.

Harry had her pressed against her car door, hidden from the view of others. "We should do this again."

"We should," she agrees.

"My house Thursday night, Josie is going out with Sarah and Mitch to watch a movie, most likely do a sleepover as well."

"I'd like that. We'll see if you can maybe have a sleepover yourself."

Harry smirks, liking the idea of her spending the night with him, not caring that they both had work the following day.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

"I want to."

"You have my full permission," she teases.

Y/N met him halfway and pressed, letting him press his lips against hers. As she kissed him back, she wanted him to feel how much she liked him, how fast she was falling for him. His hands wrapped around her waist tight; it gave her comfort. She knew he wouldn't let go until she asked.

She felt her beat just a little fast as she left out a soft moan; she shifted closer as his mouth opened over hers and his tongue slid between her lips.

He was in control of her. She did not mind one bit.

With a sigh, she tilted her so he could kiss her more deeply; he didn't need any encouragement to do as she wished. His kiss became more intense, she could feel the burn between her thighs, wanting more, needing more, and that's when she knew she had to pull back, but he beat her to it.

Harry pulls back, staying close enough that he could steal another kiss, "God, I can't get enough of you."

He surprised her, how open he became with her feelings, she hadn't asked how his therapy was going, but god, it must have been doing wonders if she could feel every emotion that was going through him as she gazed into his loving emerald eyes.

"I'll see you soon, darling." Harry took that as his cue to let his hold of her go.

"Not soon enough," he whispers.

"You'll see me Monday," she reminds him.

"Can I steal a kiss then?"

"If you're lucky."

Y/N knew it wouldn't be long until she could say she was in love with Harry.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry never thought he'd be the type of guy to be excited over a simple call or text reading: 'I'm thinking of you." She's made him feel good and confident in their relationship. He sent flowers to her work that led to her sending him a selfie with her face buried in the flowers.

At practice, he knew she couldn't pay attention to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't. He saw how fast she moved with the ball showing the girls a new drill, then doing it again slowed down, making sure they all understood. He admired how she never got frustrated. He knew how hard it was to handle one eight-year-old, but sixteen was impressive. He'd sit there for hours just admiring her if he could.

On Tuesday, he called Alycia, the receptionist at Y/N's office, asking for her lunch schedule, wanting to drop by and leave her lunch. She let him know she was taking it later that day at 2 since she was so busy. He decided that a BLT sandwich from two blocks away would do as she had once expressed to him how well done they were, promising to take him one day.

He walked in, noting how few people were in the waiting room, but eagerly stepped up to the counter. Alycia greeted him kindly, now seeing him more than once when he took Josie to her first session. Josie showed improvement, and each time he brought her, he made sure to leave a note behind for Y/N.

As he told Alycia to give you the food, there Y/N came walking down the hall. He was surprised at how casual, yet professional her look was; she had a silky oversized button shirt tucked into her linen pants, wearing her brown loafers he knew she didn't use often.

"Alycia, can you update this- Harry!" Y/N looks shocked to see him standing in front of her, not at all expecting to see him; she just planned on calling him later at night like they had been doing the past few days.

"Hi, love. Brought you lunch." He smiled sheepishly, holding up the bag.

She laughs, handing over the file to Alycia then stepping towards Harry to wrap him in a hug she has been wanting to do since she laid eyes on him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him, taking in her sweet honey scent. Before pulling back, remembering, after all, she was at work.

"I'm starving, thank you, darling. I was about to head out." Y/N rubs her stomach jokingly.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow."

Y/N pouts, "You're not staying?"

"Well, I didn't want to assume."

"Assume, please." She laughs at the smile she gets Harry to give her.

They excuse themselves from Alycia and walk towards her office. They take a seat on her couch as Harry hands her the sandwich. They ate together, and for the forty-five minutes they had together, it was perfect; they shared stories of how their week was going at how Josie was anxious for the game and just promising to see each other soon. Harry got a kiss goodbye and was glad he would be seeing her the following day.

It's Thursday night, and Harry will finally get her for more than half an hour. Josie left a few hours ago to watch the movie with Sarah and Mitch, her sleepover bag on her shoulder not at all a surprise for Harry. He glanced around his house and knew it wasn't the cleanest. Josie always had some stuff scattered around the house, but he knew it just gave the house character.

"Hey, I'm outside," Y/N tells him on the phone before hanging up.

He rushes to the door, swinging it open to see her shut the door with her hip before making her way to him, a grin on her face as she carries a pink box in one hand and what he assumes to be food in another.

"You said you don't always like having to cook, and I know you said you love Thai." She giggles as he reaches to take the bag out of her hand, letting the smell take over.

"This is sweet, love. I appreciate it."

"Well, of course," she shrugs off his compliment. "I wanted to do something nice."

"I feel like I should be the one doing sweet things for you," he confesses as he guides her to his kitchen.

Y/N frowns, "Darling, we can move past that."

"Can we?"

"Of course, I feel like we've grown in the last few weeks. There's a different type of trust, don't you think?" She turns to face him, knowing the conversation was serious.

"Do you know how sorry I am?"

She nods, slowly stepping towards him, stopping right in front of him. She lifts her hand under his chin to have him look at her. "I do, and I forgive you. Sometimes we let our emotions win."

"I hope you know I'd never do that again." His voice is soft.

"I know."

She leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

"Dinner?" She beams.

"Yes, of course."

The meal is good, probably one of the best foods he's had in a long time. She didn't pick this up from his usual place but wouldn't tell him where she went. Told him she needed to keep some things to herself to keep surprising him. Harry finished most of the meal and then opened the pink box she left on the table that held a mixture of donut holes.

"You've still got room," she exclaims.

"They smell so good." He defends. Y/N laughs but rejects the offer to have one.

After cleaning up, he leads them to the living room, deciding to watch a movie. The scroll endlessly for a few minutes before settling on Life As We Know It. Harry shared that it was one he enjoyed watching back, and she agreed.

They had only gotten thirty minutes in before they began chatting. Y/N went on about how she was planning a trip to take two up north wanting to visit June Lake and hike some trails. Y/N's sister was going to see Xavier's family in San Diego, so they couldn't go up with her. Harry, without thinking, said if she'd have them, they could go. She didn't respond, making him assume she didn't want them to join, but she surprised him by hugging him.

"Best idea you've had tonight. I'll make all the reservations. Just let me know when you're free." She told him before settling back down next to him, her hand on his thigh going back to the movie. She was grinning at the montage of Holly and Eric and how they were learning how to co-parent Sophie. Harry had not taken his eyes off of her; she laughed as Sophie pooped in Eric's old hat.

"You're staring." She narrows her eyes at him, suspicious.

"It's because you're beautiful."

"Thank you," she answers timidly. "Very sweet of you."

"Of course, I'm going to spend the rest of my life telling you how beautiful you are if you let me."

"God, you're smooth."

Harry smirks, "Smooth enough for a kiss."

She didn't answer him; she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him forward so that he could meet her halfway, and pressed her lips against his. Harry was quick to take control, slipping his hands around her waist and placing her on his lap, "this okay," he asked, quickly pulling back making sure she said yes. Once he had a go-ahead, he went back to her lips; she shifted closer, now touching chest to chest, not a single space in between as his tongue slipped into her mouth, prideful of the moan she released against his mouth.

Harry smoothed his hands from down her waist to rest on her ass, then cupped her and held her to him as he thrust against her. He pulled back for a second fearful he went too far; Y/N frowned, slowly opening her eyes whispering "again" against his lips, and who was he to deny her.

She could feel his hesitation, slid her hands up, and cupped his jaw, "You're okay, we're okay. You're taking care of me. I want this."

Harry swallowed hard, noting she never stopped rocking herself on top of him. His mouth curved in a slight grin, pushing up to meet her, he felt her go soft in his arms, and that's when he really realized the effect he has on her.

He needed her lips on him, it had only been a few moments, but he was craving her. He laid a string of kisses up her neck until he reached her mouth, lips swollen, but he knew she was eager for more.

"Harry, please." She had a hand tangled in his curls, needing to close the distance.

"I got you, love."

He tilted her head, allowing him to kiss her deeply, the kiss only more intense than before. If he didn't need to breathe, he would kiss her forever, never stopping.

"So pretty, all those moans just for me,"

"All for you," she breathes out.

Harry smirked, moving her up and down over his pants at a steady rhythm, but she was fighting for control.

"Harry."

"It's alright, love, let yourself go. Show me how pretty you look when you come."

Y/N was so close, tensed her thighs around him about to reach her release when they heard a phone ringing, halting their movements. Harry groans, pressing one more lingering kiss to her puckered lips, before reaching over to the side table to his right for his phone, "not me."

She holds back a whine, getting up for her phone inside her jacket. "Whoever it is, don't answer," he half-jokes.

Y/N giggles and looks at the caller as she swipes right to answer, "it's my niece."

Harry watches as she nods, telling her to relax and that she'd be right over.

"Has our night been cut short?"

"It has. Juliet got in an argument with her dad and is now threatening to move out."

"What," he laughs, standing up as he watches her shrug her jacket on.

"Yeah, to the backyard or with me."

"She really made you a mediator."

Y/N laughs, shrugging.

As Harry is walking her to the car, he can't believe how the night turned or would have. "You know I thought it would have been my child who interrupted us."

"Well, your daughter is an angel next to Juliet."

"You really think so,"

"I know so."

"You make it so easy to fall for you," he confesses, wrapping her in a hug before she leaves him for the night.

"Harry."

"What, I mean it."

She leans up to kiss his cheek, "I'm sorry we didn't get to finish."

"Me too."

"I hope you know once I'm in bed tonight, I'll be thinking of you."

"That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to be the one taking care of you, making a mess of you."

"We'll get there," she promises.

Harry leans in and kisses her; it's short and sweet.

"Night, Harry. See you Saturday."

"See you then. Goodnight, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's bittersweet honestly, it's the final game of the season. The girls have worked very hard to get where they are now: at the championship game. After this game, win or lose, they'll have a month off. No one will call her asking for an extra jersey, asking her for a ride, or texting her what time the game was, even with them owning the schedule. They'd all get a break until mid-September.

Harry and Josie were the first to arrive, while Kate and Y/N were setting up the warm-up drill.

"Loverboy is here." Kate teases as they walk to the bench.

"Stop." Y/N looks over at them, seeing them heading this way. "Styles family, good to see you."

"Hiya, Coach."

"Hello, Jo. You're going to go get ready?" Y/N says, looking down at the girl's black crocs with Avengers pins.

"Yup," she skips away, sitting on the grass next to Kate, who's pumping air in a few balls.

"Harry, hi."

"No darling," he teases."

She narrows her eyes at him, "I'll have you sit with the other parents if you keep teasing."

Harry looks appalled; she'd suggest such a thing, "Now that hurts."

"You know I thought you'd be sweeter, especially about that wonderful night we had Thursday."

A smile tugs up Harry's face at the memories, "My apologies, didn't want to upset my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Y/n doesn't hide her surprise.

"Yeah, uh, we've gone out enough. I like you, and I'm going out on a limb here that you like me," she nods, allowing him to continue. "You're marvelous and love, Josie; god, you even gave her a nickname. I want this; I really want to hold your hand and keep going on dates with you and kiss you. I never want to stop.

She smiles, stepping into his embrace, "I'll be your girlfriend, boyfriend."

"Enough to risk a kiss?"

She doesn't reply; instead, she leans in, giving him a chaste kiss.

"Now go be a good parent and take a seat."

Harry does so. The smile on his face mirrors her own.

The game passed in a blur; the four quarters finished quickly. Y/N had thought they lost to the other team carrying a two-one win over them. The girls didn't look defeated, but each girl she subbed came out with a sigh but cheered as the minutes counted down.

Everyone hated losing, including herself.

Then out of nowhere, Priscilla, a usually shy player, gets a touch on the ball and sends it towards the goal. The goalie lets it slip under her, and what do you know they scored. The cheers seem endless; Y/N isn't bothered with the time, knowing there isn't much left in the final quarter.

This gives the girls a new motivation like a spark has been lit. It's a game of keep-away, Blue Devils not giving up easily. Abby gets the ball at her feet, and she freezes; the goalie is running right towards her, the defense kept away by the others; it's not until someone shouts, "Shoot!" that the young girl lifts her left foot shooting it through the goalies' legs and hitting the back of the next. Then just like that, the referees blow the whistle and call the game.

The Golden Sparks had won the championship. Y/N felt the tears in her eyes, thankful for the sunglasses hiding her overflowing emotions.

Y/N laughs as she feels Kate hug her and begin jumping up and down.

"We did it!!"

"They did it!"

Y/N is swept through the motions as she shakes hands with the coaches and claps the opposing team's hands. It's not until Juliet runs towards her with full force, knocking her onto the grass, wrapping her arms around her waist, that she's brought back to the moment. Then before she knows it, there are fifteen more girls joining in on the group hug. She's not sure when Kate was dragged into it, but she feels their joy.

They have a lifetime of wins and losses coming ahead in their young lives, but she's happy to be part of one that brings them so much happiness.

The young girls help her get up before hurrying over to their waiting parents. Juliet is being smothered in kisses by her parents. Josie is passed around by Harry's friends and her godparents, congratulating her on the win. Each girl showing off their small first place trophies, indeed to be displayed for all to see somewhere in their home.

Y/N has waved almost everyone off, telling them she would see them for pizza and drinks at their usual location. She took one look around the emptying field and felt she did well this season, but there was also room for her to grow as a coach.

"Looks like you're a champion, love."

Y/N turns around to find Harry smiling at her, Josie a few feet behind, waving to a couple with a baby. "Think she's the champ; she played the game. You did wonderful out there, Jo." She grins as Jo looks at her proudly.

"I still think you should be congratulated; you led these girls. Taught them and helped them grow into becoming better little humans." he shares, grabbing her hand pulling her into his chest.

"Well, thank you." Y/N looks down at Josie, who's crouched down trying to pick up what's likely to be a worm, "Ready for some pizza, Jo?"

Josie nods, not looking up too entranced on the creature in her hands now.

"Can I give you a gift, you know for uh...winning?"

"Course, I like presents." She grins at him, eager for what it could be.

His fingers curled into her nape and pulled her head into his as he kissed her softly. She felt his full lips move over hers; she felt how much he felt for her. As Harry brought their kiss to an end, he pulled back and looked into Y/N's eyes. "Was it a good gift?"

"The best," she answers before they are interrupted by a giggling Josie, who is staring up at them.

"Does this mean you're together?" Jo asks.

Y/N and Harry share a look before looking back at Josie, who's patiently waiting, "yes."

"Oh my! Dreams come true!" She shouts, running circles around them.

"Isn't meeting dad's girlfriend too soon a bad thing?" Y/N asks Harry.

"Not when you know you're never letting go."

"Oh, I like the sound of that." She lets pull her towards him, his arm resting comfortably over her shoulder.

"Plus, you're meeting all my friends at the pizza place, they all came to cheer on Josie, and you did say everyone was invited."

"I might just regret saying that."

"It'll be fine. Not a chance you don't win them all over."

Y/N brings them to a halt, Harry smiling down at her. This is happiness; she never wants to forget it. Harry leans in, letting their mouths meet in a kiss, soft and passionate as they both spill their feelings for another, hoping that with each passing second, the emotions only get stronger and stronger.

Harry pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, "I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm glad we'll be able to see it together."

Josie walks a few steps in front of them, leading the conversation. Harry and Y/N listen intently, holding each other tightly because this is what their future will consist of; more soccer games, more smiles, more laughs but most importantly, more love.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

thank you so much for reading <3333

I adore you. take care xx

[karahalloway]

(Un)Common Attraction: Chapter 9 - Go Nuts for Cronuts

Series: TRR (following the events of Book 1, with some changes)

Pairing: Drake Walker x OC (Harper Gale)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Book Synopsis: Harper Gale is a small-town girl working as a waitress at a seedy New York dive bar. After a chance encounter with nobility sees her jetting halfway around the world to compete for the hand of the Prince of Cordonia, her dream of seeing the world starts to come true sooner than she expected. But as the completion heats up, Harper quickly learns that life at court is a lot more than just pretty dresses and fancy balls, and that the polished aristocratic smiles often hide deceit. Does she have what it takes to rise above the gossip and intrigue of the social season, and beat the nobles at their own games? And, more importantly, does she actually want to become the queen of a small European country? Or will her heart have other ideas?

Masterlist: (Un)Common Attraction

Chapter Summary: The gang sneak out of the Palace in search of some sweet treats and Harper learns some interesting things about her new friends...

Word Count: 4,700

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (minor swearing)

Please read: Author’s Note

Also available on Wattpad.

Chapter 9 - Go Nuts for Cronuts

"What's taking him so long?" asks Maxwell impatiently, craning his neck in the hopes of catching sight of Christian.

We were gathered in the garden in front of the hedge-maze, ready to embark on our quest for cronuts. Hana and I were sitting on the edge of the fountain, while Maxwell paced impatiently in front of us.

"He's a prince," Drake reminds us matter-of-factly. He is leaning against a tree trunk, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his faded jeans. He could not have epitomised the rebel-without-a-cause look more if he tried. "We'll be lucky if he can sneak out at all..."

"Relax," I say, smirking at the start contrast between the two guys.

The one who was supposed to be showing me the ropes here in Cordonia was behaving like an impatient five-year old, while the other (who had been complaining about the lack of normal food) now looked like he could not care less whether we lucked-out on cronuts or not.

Taking a quick glance at my watch, I add, "We still have plenty of time before the bakery closes."

"But what if they run out of those delicious-sounding cronuts you told us about?" asks Maxwell anxiously, literally bouncing on the spot like a jacked-up Energizer bunny. "I can already taste it in my mouth..."

"Then, we'll have to just go back another night," I reply with a shrug. "No biggie..."

"I see him!" cries Hana.

"Sorry for running late," pants Christian, coming to a stop in front of us.

He is dressed in dark jeans, designer sneakers and a form-fitting black t-shirt. In contrast to his normally dignified appearance, he now looks more like a sexy undercover spy than the heir to a throne. I realise that I haven't seen him in casual clothes since New York, and I find that I prefer this look on him than his more stately regalia.

"It's been a while since I've had to sneak out of my own bedroom window... It was nowhere near as easy as I remembered..."

"Hate to break it to ya, buddy, but that's what happens when you don't invest the time to hone important life-skills," drawls Drake, peeling himself away from the tree to join the rest of us around the fountain.

"And what important life-skills do you hone in your spare time, Drake?" I ask with an arched brow, dying to hear what his answer was going to be.

"A high alcohol tolerance, for one," he says without skipping a beat, flashing a full-blown grin. It lights up his face, making him look much younger... and seriously hot.

I blink, mentally giving myself a shake. Since when have I thought of Drake as attractive?!

Yes, with his messy brown hair, permanent five o'clock shadow, and broody countenance, Drake admittedly had a rugged cowboy vibe about him, which some girls probably found appealing. But in a straight up contest, Christian and even Maxwell beat him, easy-peasy. With their snappy dress-sense, polite manners, and aristocratic good-looks, they could sweep any girl they wanted off her feet in seconds. Plus, Drake seemed determined to keep a healthy emotional distance from anyone and everyone he came into contact with, with the exception of Christian, so he was not going to be scoring many points with me (or any other girls, most likely) for charm and personability.

"Shall we get going, then?" asks Christian, interrupting my musings.

"Yeah!" I say quickly, dumping the unwarranted thoughts about Drake (and the other guys) from my head. I was here to get through this silly contest that the Beaumonts had tricked me into, not to size up dating prospects. "Let's get going!"

We start making our way down the long drive, enjoying the shared camaraderie that accompanies any illicit adventure. While the guys bunch together to dissect some YouTube video they all recently watched, I find myself falling into step with Hana.

"Hey, Harper," she says softly. "I just want to thank you for inviting me out here tonight. It makes for a nice change to sitting in my room by myself..."

"No problem," I reply sincerely. "Out of all the the other suitors, you're the only one I can actually have a normal conversation with, without having to worry that whatever I say will end up being used against me when I least expect it."

"I feel the same," admits Hana. "It's nice to know that there is someone else who is a bit of an outsider."

"But I thought you were from a noble family..."

"My mother is from a minor Cordonian house, and my father does some business here, but I've hardly been invited to any private events since I arrived, so it's been difficult to build meaningful connections. But having been able to share the past few days with you has made being here a bit easier, knowing that there is someone else in this competition who is also new to Cordonian society."

"Yeah, coming here has not been what I expected... at all," I concur. "It's been glamorous, for sure, but I did not realise that that came with such a high level of expectation for constant perfectness. And honestly, I am not sure that that kind of life is for me..."

"But the way Prince Christian looks at you..." breathes Hana. "I haven't had anyone look at me like that before. Would you really say 'no' to him, if he picks you?"

"I have no idea..." I sigh. "On one hand, who doesn't dream of marrying a prince, living in a palace and strutting around in designer clothes all day? But Christian told me a bit about his family history, and that really drove home the point that you need to be a very particular type of person to be able to hack it as a royal. Your time is not your own, you have very little privacy, and you cannot go anywhere without a bodyguard unless you manage to sneak out."

"But can't love conquer all?"

"Pfft..." I snort. "I've known the guy for less than a week. It would be seriously premature to say that I was in love with him. Sure, he has many things going for him – he is good-looking, charming, takes his work seriously, and we have fun together, but I just don't know him well enough to be able to imagine a life with him...yet."

"I know how you feel," confesses Hana with a sigh. "Part of the reason why my engagement fell apart last year was because I realised that I wasn't in love with my fiancé..."

"So why did you agree to the engagement?"

"My parents... they expect a lot from me. They were devastated that they didn't have any sons, so they pinned all their hopes on me. Every day of my life has been about grooming me to bring fame and fortune to my family by winning some prince or noble's hand. So, when Peter came along, they thought that they had found the perfect match."

"For them..." I surmise. "But not for you."

Hana smiles sadly. "Don't get me wrong. Peter was the perfect English gentleman. Not only was he rich, with an ancestral title and a beautiful estate, but he was also handsome and kind, and had been raised with romantic notions about true love and a lifetime of happily wedded bliss. We spent long afternoons riding and sailing, just getting to know each other. It should have been perfect... But, I was not in love with him. Maybe it was because it was my parents who chose him without asking me what I wanted, or maybe I was just not ready to be married yet..."

"So, what happened?"

"When he proposed, I was really conflicted, but in the end, I accepted. I knew my parents would be devasted if I didn't say 'yes', and I tried to convince myself that if I just gave Peter some time, I could fall in love with him. But, Peter could tell that I was miserable. At our engagement party a month before the wedding, he cornered me, and he asked me if he was what I wanted. And even though I tried to convince him – and myself – that I wanted to marry him, he knew me well enough by then to see that I didn't really mean it."

"I am so sorry," I murmur sincerely, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Hana heaves a sigh. "He was good enough not to make a big thing of it, but there was a lot of ugly speculation about why we parted. Especially because he got married shortly after to another woman..."

"Oh wow..." I say. "Do you think he...?"

"Maybe," shrugs Hana. "But that's behind me now. My parents were upset with me, but they've given me another chance."

"But aren't you worried that history will just repeat itself with Christian?"

"Well, I'm hopeful that things will turn out differently this time. And I don't want to disappoint my parents again."

"Hana," I say seriously. "I know your parents just want what's best for you, but you should take time and think about what you want this time around. Even though it is seriously contrived and there are at least a hundred people watching and analysing your every move, the social season is set up so Christian can get to know us, and we can get to know him, so none of us end up in the situation you just described with Peter."

"I suppose you're right..." sighs Hana.

"Hey," I say with a smile, dropping my arm around Hana's shoulder and giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Like you said, we're in this together. Even though we're competing against each other, we can help each other out. For instance, why don't you try sneaking off with Christian a few times, to get to know him a little better?"

"Sneak off?" gasps Hana, stunned at the very suggestion. "With the Prince?"

"Why not?" I ask with a shrug. "We have managed to slip away a couple of times to just talk like normal people, but..."

"You spent time with Christian? Unsupervised?" Hana looks like she was going to faint in shock. "When?"

"Well, the first time was actually in New York, when I met him. We left the guys to party and get drunk at a club while we went on a midnight boat tour to see the Statue of Liberty...."

"That sounds so romantic!" gushes Hana. "No wonder he thinks you're special..."

"...and then there was the time after the Masquerade Ball when he showed me the garden that he and Drake used to play in when they were little. And I also managed to convince Drake earlier today to let me watch the Derby with Christian in his private tent. Figured that would be more fun than spending the day listening to Olivia's snide remarks..."

"So, you didn't really get lost then, did you?"

"Oh, no," I say with a grin. "I did get lost. That's how I bumped into Drake and found out where Christian was."

"Well, if you have been away to steal a few private moments with Prince Christian, then I will not be surprised if he picks you. He will know you the best out of all of us, with the exception of Olivia."

"But that's my point!" I exclaim. "You can steal some moments with him, so he can get to know you too. And who knows? He may actually end up liking you the best. I just hope he doesn't settle for Olivia. She will shroud the kingdom in darkness, for sure..."

"Is it just me, or is it more fun to be out at night when you're also breaking the rules?" asks Maxwell, appearing between Hana and me to casually drop an arm around each of our shoulders.

I see Hana stiffen slightly at the unexpectedly familiar gesture.

"I know Christian and Drake used to break the rules all the time, but I am not sure I can see you sneaking out," I admit. "Bertrand seems like the kind of guy who locks his mansion up tight."

"I've snuck out!" protests Maxwell.

"Alright," I say with a smile. "Regale us with one of your daring escapes."

"Back when I was in school, a German breakdancing troupe came to Cordonia to perform at the summer festival. I really wanted to go see them, but it was the night before my end of year exams, and Bertrand insisted that I stay in and study."

"That definitely sounds like something Bertrand would do," I admit.

"Anyway, we had a gardener working for us at the time who kind of looked a bit like me. I convinced him to dress up in my clothes and sit in my room pretending to study while I rappelled down from the third storey using a rope made from my bedsheet and blankets, and used his old Fiat to drive myself to the performance. To this day, Bertrand has no idea that I snuck out!"

"Wow!" I say, genuinely impressed. "That's some next level Mission: Impossible shit! I honestly would not have pegged you for a master sleuth."

"I have many secret secrets," Maxwell assures me with a waggle of his eyebrows.

I burst out laughing.

"How much longer to this bakery, then?" asks Drake from behind us. "Don't tell me you've gotten us lost, Gale..."

"According to Google, it should be on the promenade, just around this corner," I reply, checking the screen shot of the maps app that I had saved on my phone while I had been hooked up to the Palace's WiFi, given that I had no signal otherwise.

"I, for one, have enjoyed our evening stroll," says Christian contentedly. "After a day spent answering to the press and the Queen, this is the sweetest freedom."

"And it's about to get sweeter," I say. "Here we are!"

We arrive in front of a cute little shopfront with large glass windows overlooking the beach, colourfully decorated cakes and pastries on display behind an old-fashioned counter complete with an ancient-looking cashier's till.

Without a moment's hesitation, Maxwell throws open the door and bellows, "We need all of your finest cronuts, please!"

The two girls manning the shop stare at Maxwell with a mixture of fear and bewilderment, no doubt wondering whether they need to call the cops.

"I think you're supposed to go to the counter," Hana advises quietly. "Not just shout from the doorway."

"Like a normal person..." mutters Drake.

"It's okay," I say, pushing my way into the bakery. "I'll handle this. You guys just find a place to sit."

Walking up to the counter, I order cronuts for all of us, as well as a jug of water. I had not idea what everyone liked to drink, so I thought I'd play it safe.

I note with relief that despite the oldy-worldy decor, the shop has one of those sleek new contactless payment machines, and I am able to pay with my card. I make a mental note to get some cash from somewhere, in case we end up in a place that doesn't take Visa.

One of the girls helpfully produces a pink plastic tray and loads everything onto it, making my life much easier as I carry it over to the two tables that the others had pushed together next to the window.

"Here we are!" I say, depositing the tray. "Dig in!"

"Well, these look delicious," says Christian, taking a cronut and looking at it appreciatively.

"The layers of the pastry appear to be expertly folded," agrees Hana.

"Screw how they look!" declares Drake, taking one as well. "It's all about how they taste!"

"All together?" I ask.

"One..." says Christian, hold his cronut at the ready.

"Two..." smiles Hana.

"Thr—" starts Drake.

"Ohmygodthisisthebestthingever...!"

"MAXWELL!!!" we all cry in unison.

"I regret nothing!" he declares unashamedly, stuffing the remainder of his cronut into his mouth. "Mmmm... Flaky, crusty, glazed cloud of flavour... where have you been all my life?"

"Well, it looks like we have a new cronut convert," I remark, taking a bite of my own pastry. The sugary sweetness fills my mouth, reminding me of New York. I sigh contentedly. "Mmm... These are good!"

"I really must take some of these back home," says Hana, delicately sampling a small piece she had torn off her cronut. "I've never tasted anything so light and fluffy and sweet!"

"This rivals the finest pastries from the palace chefs," agrees Christian. "Even Drake is smiling..."

"What?" objects Drake, quickly swallowing his bite. "I like good food. Who doesn't?"

“Even though it’s not a ninety-nine cent burger?” I ask wryly.

He meets my eye pointedly. “I can have a range of preferences.”

I feel the heat shoot up my cheeks at the suddenly suggestive tone of his rich baritone before I look quickly away.

…God! Why was I even blushing! It’s not like he’d said anything flirty… Had he?

"The last time I had something this good," muses Maxwell, breaking my train of thought, "was when Bertrand hired a pastry-chef from a Michelin-star restaurant to make his birthday cake."

"Hold on!" I splutter. "Are you saying that Bertrand used to actually indulge in frivolity?"

"Of course," says Maxwell, completely unphased.

"There's a time when he would've been here with us tonight," confirms Christian.

"Are we sure we're talking about the same Bertrand?" I ask, still not wanting to believe it.

"He wasn't always the serious duke that he is now. He used to be on quite good terms with my brother before he abdicated. Those two got up to all kinds of mischief."

"So, what changed?" I ask.

"Bertrand's fine," says Maxwell. "He's just sorting some things out. You know what? I'll even bring him back a cronut. Cheer him up a bit."

"That's thoughtful of you," smiles Hana.

"Will that cronut actually make it back to the Palace in one piece?" ask Drake dryly.

"I hope you're not implying I'd eat my brother's cronut!" objects Maxwell.

Drake raises a sceptical brow. "Wouldn't you?"

Maxwell flushes. "Well... it's the thought that counts anyway, right?"

"Told ya," smirks Drake, leaning back in his chair with an air of self-satisfied vindication.

"I know how Maxwell feels," says Hana. "That was a real treat! Thanks for bringing us here Harper!"

"You're welcome," I smile. "Always glad for an opportunity to induct more people into the cronut fan club."

"Well, if there's more where that came from," declares Drake, catching my eye again, “I'd be up for sneaking out more often."

"Drake!" I cry in mock surprise, pushing down the weird feeling in my stomach that had bubbled up again from the strangely intimate gesture. "Are you saying that we have found something apart from whiskey and scowling that you actually like?"

"Don't read too much into it, Gale," he mutters, a wry smile playing at his lips. "But I can admit when someone's right."

"I wish we could have more moments like this," sighs Christian, "but I don't know when we'll have the next chance. The social season is in full swing now, so we won't have much free time."

"I'm sure we'll manage something," I say confidently. "We all need some time to unwind every now and then. Anyone up for seconds?"

There's enthusiastic noises from all around the table.

"Let me get this round," says Christian, grabbing the tray from the middle of the table.

"Ooh, full royal service!" I exclaim with a laugh. "Didn't think the Crown Prince of Cordonia waited tables."

"I'm not afraid to roll my sleeves up," replies Christian with a wink as he strolls back to the counter.

We continue eating and chatting until closing time.

"Wow, it's gotten late," says Hana, looking at her phone. "We should probably start heading back."

"I agree," says Christian.

"Don't want the kingdom to panic over a missing prince..." I tease.

"Historians will tell of the day when Cordonia nearly collapsed because the Crown Prince when out for cronuts," warns Drake dramatically. The food and the easy conversation seem to have really loosened him up.

"Okay, okay," smiles Christian. "Maybe it's not that bad, but we should still head back to the Palace."

"I'm with you there!" agrees Maxwell with a massive yawn. "The fresh air combined with the deliciousness of the cronuts has made me quite sleepy..."

Piling our empty plates and glasses back onto the tray, we file out of the bakery and begin the long walk back to the Palace.

"This was an excellent idea," says Christian, brushing his finger over the back of my hand as he comes to walk beside me. I shiver involuntarily at his touch.

"I thought we could all use a little fun," I shrug. "And I had to see how Cordonian cronuts measured up to the New York originals."

"And? What's the verdict?"

"I know I probably shouldn't say this, but the Cordonian ones were a teeny bit lighter and fluffier."

"I'm glad you have found something here that you like," smiles Christian. "And I hope you will find more."

"I'm sure I will."

"You know, being out here tonight has made me realise something..."

"What's that?"

"I'm the potential leader of my own country, yet there's so much of it I haven't experienced. If it hadn't been for you, I would never have known that that little bakery existed. And if I don't know that, then how many other things are there in the kingdom that I do not know about?"

"So, you're wondering how you can be an effective ruler if you don't know about the everyday things going on in the country?"

Christian looks down at me in surprise. "I don't know how you do it, Harper, but you always seem to know exactly what's going through my head, even when I haven't fully worked it out for myself."

"Must be another one of my special qualities," I smile. After a pause, I say, "Well, being a monarch is a complex role and you can't be everywhere at once. You need to trust that some things will run smoothly even if you are not there to supervise it."

"I suppose," sighs Christian. "I only wish the statesman's bubble wasn't so thick. Being an icon of sorts robs me of certain luxuries, like visiting people, going out with friends... spending time with you."

Looking up, I can see him gazing at me intently. His hand has found mine again, and his warm fingers wrap around mine.

"Christian," I say softly. "The social season has only just started, and you know you should be fair to the other ladies..."

"Maybe I don't have to be when we're outside of the Palace," he murmurs, brushing my cheek with his free hand.

A thousand little sparks of electricity sizzle on my skin in the wake of his caress. Despite what I may have told Hana earlier, I find myself thinking that having Christian waking up next to me each morning may not be such a bad thing after all...

I am leaning into him in anticipation of his kiss, but I suddenly catch a glimpse of something over his shoulder that makes me pull back warily.

"Someone's watching us..." I gasp.

A figure is lurking in the shadow of one of the buildings, trying to stay out of sight.

"Stay behind me," murmurs Christian, squeezing my hand reassuringly, but I can see the steely look in his eyes as he readies himself for a possible confrontation.

"Just... be careful," I whisper.

Having been on the receiving end of Christian's self-defence training earlier today, I had no doubt that he could handle himself against a potential aggressor. But that didn't mean that I was any less worried. What if the guy had a knife? Or worse – a gun? I had no idea how I would feel if he got hurt because I had insisted on sneaking out of the Palace without the usual assortment of bodyguards, but I was sure it would not be great...

"Good evening, Your Highness," says a deep voice from behind Christian.

"Bastien?" gasps Christian, spinning around. "What are you doing here?"

"His Highness should know that I can't let him go out late at night without sufficient security."

Peeking around Christian, I spot a serious-looking man sporting a goatee and discreet earpiece. He is dressed in a dark suit typical of bodyguards, and I swear I can see the vague outline of a side-arm underneath his jacket.

"But how did you even know?" asks Christian with a frown.

"Please, You Highness," smiles Bastien. "I was assigned to your brother before this. I've seen every trick in the book."

"I'm... I'm sorry to have troubled you," apologises Christian, a flush rising up his face at having been caught.

"Like I said, You Highness, I was assigned to your brother," says Bastien. "Compared to him, you're hardly any trouble at all. But..."

"...we should be getting back," agrees Christian. "I know."

"You go on ahead, Your Highness. I'll trail behind and keep on eye on things." With a curt nod, Bastien disappears into the shadows behind us.

"That...was a bit creepy," I admit, letting out an explosive breath I only just realise I had been holding.

"Bastien is the head of the King's Guard," explains Christian, as we begin walking again. "He is really good at what he does... and he's discreet."

"Just feels weird knowing that someone's watching you, even if they are there to look out for you."

"You get used to it after a while," Christian assures me.

"We should catch up with the others," I say.

The romantic moment had completely been ruined by Bastien's unexpected appearance.

"Who were you two talking to back there?" asks Drake as we rejoin the others.

"Bastien," says Christian.

"He followed us?" asks Drake, surprised and impressed in equal measure. "That man is as sneaky as a fox..."

"Well, he did learn from the best..." says Christian, clapping Drake on the shoulder.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Drake's father used to be the head of the King's Guard. Bastien was his second-in-command," explains Christian.

"That's how you ended up living at the Palace," I conclude. "Where's your dad now, then? Retired?"

"In a manner of speaking..." says Drake softly. "He was shot in the line of duty."

"Oh. I am so sorry..."

"It happened a long time ago..."

“Even so,” I insist. “That can’t have been easy for you… Or the rest of your family.”

He meets my eye for second before looking away. “No. It wasn’t.”

"And your mom?" I ask. “Where is she now?”

"Living in Texas on the Dad's family ranch."

"You're American?" I ask in surprise.

Though, to be fair, this explained a lot. Like why he sounded different from Christian and Maxwell, why he'd looked so comfortable in the dive bar in New York, his suspicious lack of confusion when I'd brought the topic of cronuts up at the picnic... not to mention his faded jeans obsession.

"Half," he corrects. "Mom's Cordonian."

"Why didn't you say?" I press, wondering why he’d try to hide such an important attribute that the two of us had in common.

"It never came up."

"Well, it's not like you're a chatterbox!” I exclaim. “The few times we've actually spoken, I thought you were going to bite my head off..."

"Being around nobility has that effect on me," shrugs Drake. "No offence."

"None taken," smiles Christian.

"But, everything's better away from the Palace," he declares, taking a deep breath of the warm evening air. "No stiff etiquette, no having to watch your back all the time... We can be ourselves out here."

"I'm surprised you don't sneak out more often then..."

"Why do you think I agreed to tonight's outing?" asks Drake, catching my gaze. He was right; he looks much more relaxed – almost jovial – out here. "I couldn't pass up a chance to get away from the Palace. And the food was an added bonus."

"Glad I could be of service," I reply wryly with a mock salute.

"Looking forward to what you come up with next, Gale," he murmurs with a smile.

The story continues in Chapter 10 - Skating in Circles

A/N: I realise that in the game, it's Drake's mother who is American. However, I decided to change the nationalities of Drake's parents around for several reasons: (i) Jackson Walker is a Texan name, if ever I heard one, (ii) their family farm is called ‘Walker Ranch’, so it makes more sense for it be in Jackson's family than Bianca's, (iii) and it works better for the backstory that I created for Jackson (see Chapter 16).

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@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14​​​ @petiteboheme​ @aussiegurl1234 @alyshak92​ 

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

What You’ve Been Wanting

Summary: Sexting Finn at work gets you . . . exactly what you want.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ please)

A/N: I dare say I’ve outdone myself. Those of you who I consider to be my “Constant Readers” know I never say that about my own writing. So, here goes!

It wasn’t a secret that Finn hated his corporate job.

 He would have given anything to have grease under his nails again as he tuned an engine, but Finn was smart enough to know his old life dissipated with Tobey’s arrest.

 Part of you was relieved because you always thought Finn was better than the grunt work he did at the garage. When he took the job in Detroit, you told him that if he played the corporate game well enough, in ten years he could have enough money to open his own garage and get back to pursuing his passion. In some ways, Tobey’s arrest had seemed like a blessing.

 However, with corporate success came more demanding hours, and you quickly learned that one of Finn’s weaknesses was trying to balance work with life.

 Two nights ago, he didn’t get home until 9:15 pm. The previous night, it was 9:25, so you could argue that his time management was improving . . . except that last night, he didn’t walk through the front door until 10:05.

 It was clear he wasn’t going to find balance on his own, so you needed to intervene. When you had a moment to yourself throughout your own workday, you thought about what you could do to help. It wasn’t until you got home around 4:30 that your body actually told you what you should do.

 As you walked into the bedroom to change, you picked up some clothes on the floor and tossed them into the hamper. Finn’s black dress shirt caught your eye and you pulled it out, suddenly struck with the realization of how much you missed him. You brought the starchy fabric to your nose and pressed the collar against your lips, inhaling Finn.

 His scent fanned the dull flame of neediness that you hadn’t even identified was smoldering within you until that moment.

 As you looked down at his shirt, you were suddenly filled with inspiration, and you grinned as you tossed it onto the bed. Stripping down, you tossed all your work clothes in the hamper, then dug through your underwear drawer to find something sexy. A “race red” bra and panty set you had bought last Valentine’s Day stuck out, and you rushed into the bathroom to fix your face and hair, donning a lipstick that closely matched the underwear set.

 After slipping into Finn’s shirt, you left it unbuttoned as you started taking pictures: cute ones, mostly of your smile with just a glimpse of what you were wearing. You picked one that bordered on sexy and hit send.  

 As you thought about your next photo set, Finn texted back a few minutes later.

 Sexy!!! Miss you : (

 “Oh, you’re gonna do more than miss me here in a sec,” you said to yourself as you shucked off Finn’s shirt, took off your bra, then put his shirt back on. You spent some time positioning his dress-shirt so it just covered your nipples on either side. You angled the camera down your body, making sure to reveal as much breast as the position allowed.

 This time, Finn’s reply took exactly ten seconds.

 Please stop.

 Giggling, you prepped for what you expected to be the holy grail of sexy pics. You opened his shirt and laid across the bed, angling the phone so it captured your breasts, now fully on display, then you slid your hand into your red panties. You snapped some pics then got distracted as you fingered your clit, wondering if all you’d have tonight is another round with yourself. Leaning into his collar, your eyes slipped shut as you breathed him in and rubbed your swelling bud. With a groan, you stopped, secretly praying that this next picture would be the one to send him running home to you.

 Scrolling through your most recent shots, you picked the sexiest and sent it.

 You sucked on your finger, waiting for Finn’s reply. When his face flashed on the screen, you grinned and answered, “Hey, babe. I miss you.” 

“Stop sending me . . . those,” he hissed into the phone.

 “Sure. If you come home and take care of me.”

 “You know I can’t—”

 “You can.”

 “I can’t! Dammit, Y/N. Don’t you think I wish I could?”

 “You’re working yourself too hard, Finn. And that’s not a euphemism.”

 “I’ll see you when I get home,” he bit out, then hung up on you.

You didn’t know whether his reaction angered, hurt, or humored you, so you decided to keep playing your game. If that last picture hadn’t worked, maybe this one would. Wiggling out of your panties, you used Finn’s shirt to very precariously cover most of your pussy . . . most being the operative word.  

 Barely containing your laughter, you hit send and really thought about what you were doing to Finn. You slid your fingers between your folds and worked yourself to a quick orgasm as you imagined him opening his phone, probably with a frustrated huff. You imagined how wide his pretty eyes would get as he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was peeking. You imagined how he’d shift in his chair, his pants suddenly too tight. And as you thought about the bulge in his trousers, you thought about the feeling of his dick inside you. Your fingers were slick which quickened your ministrations as you longed for him, and soon enough you were shaking with your swift, intense orgasm.

 Exhaling, you checked your phone and saw that Finn had opened your last picture, but he hadn’t replied.

 You figured you had a 60-40 chance, the odds in your favor that he left work, maybe even taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, so you rolled over on the bed and lounged. As you played on your phone, you realized you were much more relaxed than when you had first gotten home and vowed that even if Finn did work late—again—you’d be sure to make sure he got off before bedtime.

 You smiled to yourself as you cleared out your cache of sexy photos and imagined undressing him, his sleepy eyes half-shut as he insisted he grabbed dinner on the way home and all he wanted was some sleep. Except instead of sleep, he would get your mouth on his cock.

 God how you missed him.

 As if on cue, the front door opened, then slammed shut. At first you grinned, but the sound of Finn’s pounding steps on the stairs sounded ominous, especially considering his typically aloof demeanor.

 “I am going to kil—” Finn growled as he stomped into the bedroom, but as he took in your nudity, he stopped mid-threat.

 You rolled over and bit your lip, your eyes lit with the promise of a very good time.

 “Hi.”

 Finn pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes grew to be twice their usual size.

 “You are in so much fucking trouble,” he growled as he launched himself onto the bed, covering your body with his as he bent to suck harshly on your neck.

 “Sorry, honey. Guess I shouldn’t tell you I got started without ya?”

 Finn released your skin with a wet pop and pulled back to look down at you, his eyes narrowing. He scanned your face to see if you were teasing or telling the truth and whatever he saw made him sit back on his haunches and grip your knees in order to push them wide apart.

 Hunger settled over his features as he took in your wet center, and you swore on the spot that the last image you wanted to see before you died was the way he licked his lips, looked up at you, then lowered his face over your pussy.

 Still fully clad in his suit, your calves rubbed against the fabric of his grey jacket as he held your thighs open.

 He immediately pulled your clit into his mouth with a sharp suck, bringing you straight to that threshold of pain and pleasure, an area as grey as the suit he was wearing. You pushed at his head with one hand and pulled at his gelled hair with the other, the noises leaving your throat more animal than human.

 Stopping to plunge his tongue into your center, your body relaxed, only to be lit on fire again as Finn’s nose nudged at your clit.

 “Oh my fuck—Finn!” you cried, your mind barely stringing together anything coherent.

 “Come on, baby. Say my name louder than that,” he ground out between the thrusts of his tongue.

 When he moved back to your clit with his mouth, he slid his thick middle finger inside of you and sought that bundle of nerves along your inner wall. Fucking you with his finger and his mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut in ecstasy, unable to have even imagined getting it this good from him when you began your little game.

 “FINN!” you shouted as you came, your lips still mumbling his name over and over as you trembled under his face.

 “Happy now?” he said, swiping at his nose and chin with his hand as he crawled back up your body.

 Instead of allowing yourself to bask in the tingles of an incredible orgasm, you were instantly possessed with the need to fuck him stupid.

 With a growl, you pushed him off your body and onto his back, a little too vigorously because he nearly tumbled off the bed. You grabbed onto his suit to steady him, then began tearing the clothes off his body.

 First the jacket went as you yanked him up by his lapels and gave him a searing kiss as you worked off the sleeves.

 Then his striped tie, ripped off with such force that the “ssst” sound of the fabric seemed to echo in your ears even as you tossed it to the side of the room.

 Once he was free from his tie, you worked the buttons on his sky-blue dress shirt, popping at least two in your haste as Finn tried to help only to have his hands smacked away. They floated beside you before settling onto the sides of your face as you kissed him until you needed to work off his undershirt.

 The thin material caught in his watch and you quickly unclasped it, not caring when it sharply thudded onto the floor.

 You kissed down his body, sucking marks onto his color bone and chest and nipping at his nipples with your teeth, pushing him to that line of grey he had you in earlier as he was sucking on your clit.

 “Want you,” you whined between kisses and bites. “Want you so bad.”

 “I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby—ah, fuuuck,” Finn hissed as you palmed his cock before whipping off his belt and opening his trousers.

 You finally hit a hitch in your destruction of his clothing when you realized he still had his shoes on. You stood up and pulled them off, each of them hitting the floor with a satisfying thud. His socks were next, then you were able to grab his suit pants by the edges and yank them off, change and whatever the hell else he had in his pockets scattering across your bedroom floor.

 Finn was already wriggling out of his boxers so all you had to do was reach up once again and yank.

 Only when he was gloriously naked before you did you stop to take a breath, steadying yourself on your feet and letting your eyes rake over him—and Finn ate it up, his ego clearly swelling to three times its usual size under your adoration.  

 Pressing a chaste kiss to his knee, you worked slowly up his thigh, licking and kissing in a way that had his cock jump as you got closer. Instead of taking him in your mouth, you kissed down his other thigh and worked your mouth to his knee on the other side of his body.

 “Oh no,” Finn said scrambling up. “No, no.”

 He grabbed your upper arms and pushed you back until you were both standing.

 “You don’t get to sext me at work, undress me like that, then tease me.”

 He stepped behind you, pushed you forward, then kicked your legs apart as you fell against the bed onto your stomach. He ran his hands down your thighs, groping them before he brought his hands to the cheeks of your ass and gave them a swat.

 “You’re gonna get it like you wanted it.”

 And with that, Finn pushed into your opening, coating his dick with the first thrust so he didn’t hurt you, but when he pulled back out, it was on.

 He slammed into you twice before he reached to gather your wrists and hold them against your lower back. Your cheek was pressing into the mattress and you felt like you were on orgasmic-fire as he held you down and fucked you.

 Finn’s ass clenched with the force of his thrusts and soon he was grunting every time he entered you, skin slapping against skin and filling the room with the sounds of really good, dirty sex.

 You weren’t contributing to the sexy cacophony since you were being fucked speechless, uttering only little puffs of breath that disturbed your ruined hair, your body unable to do more than take that fucking as a familiar coil inside of your abdomen burned again, aching for release.

 When Finn began to pick up his pace, you knew he was getting close to coming.

 “PleaseFinnplease,” you slurred. “I’m soclose.”

 “Again, baby? All right—but you better make it a good one,” he panted as he slowed down and released one of your wrists so he could fumble over your clit. As it turned out, you didn’t need precision in this position—just a little pressure.

 Not even Finn could hold your other wrist as you came, your arms slamming above your head and into the mattress as you gripped the comforter and gritted your teeth. An explosion of stars burst behind your eyelids as you came, and of course, Finn followed you, grunting out his climax, his hot cum coating your walls and mixing with your own, making you shudder at the intimacy of it—and that was just what you had really been wanting.

 A reminder of just who you belonged to.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February #9: Date Night

3627 (26 ATC)

“Hiding in plain sight once again.”  Risha came up to Eva as she surveyed the gambling floor.  

Eva gave her a smile. Risha noticed that had changed – no longer as reckless and brilliant as it had been.  “EC has returned to the pazaak tables of the galaxy, and the fine bosses of Canto Bight have no idea about her day job at the moment.”

More than ten years on, nobody had figured out that EC, Eva Corolastor, the Voidhound, and the Alliance Commander were all the same person.  

EC the pazaak player had disappeared at the onset of the war with the Eternal Empire.  Now she had returned, and Canto Bight was her first stop. The planet had successfully parlayed this into a promotional tournament to restart commerce in a post Eternal Empire galaxy.  

“What’s the mark?” Risha sipped her drink.  

Eva raised her chin toward a small group of Chiss watching a player at a table at the far end of the hall. “We’re doing a little bit of legwork for Aristocra Saganu to atone for some of damage done by the traitor Zenta. She had help before she herself was betrayed.”  Eva sipped her gin and tonic.  

Risha scanned the floor. “So, the nature of business?”

“The old act I used to do – exchange pazaak decks to commemorate the win, but both are laced with intel.  You should see the cards Koth made – guy’s talents were wasted in the armed forces.”

“I trust we’re getting something in exchange?”  Risha set her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed one of the small appetizers that were being passed around.  

Eva tipped her glass toward the lounge pianist, who occasionally sang as he played.  “I pull him on his break at the bar. He takes me upstairs to his room on the employee side of the hotel.  I tire him out. I use his computer terminal to slice some information out of the casino about some of their guests and then transmit the whole package.”  

Risha checked Eva’s left ring finger: bare.  “Aren’t you a little old for these games?”

Eva threw back the last of her drink, the ice rattling in her glass.  “I’m in my prime, according to the girly magazines.”

**

A few rounds of sabacc and a drink later, Risha found herself alone at the top of the casino, looking down again at the entire floor.  Despite nearly seven years apart, she never lost the skill of picking Eva out of a crowd. It helped that the green nanite-threaded cloth dress glittered as the casino lights caught it; the outfit refused to be ignored, while the lady’s face could be, one of the tricks of the trade that Eva and Risha had figured out over the years.

Eva won her table, as usual. A consoling embrace and a handshake were exchanged between her and her Chiss opponent, along with the deck of cards. Risha checked the chrono.  The hour was about to strike, which meant that the pianist was about to go on break.  Risha watched him finish up the song, then get a round of applause as he stood up.  There were a few ladies that came over to compliment him, but none of them were under the age of 75.

As he took his seat at the bar, the pianist became absorbed with a menu he’d probably read a hundred times before.  Then Eva descended upon him.  Risha watched the game play out.  She’d done it at least as often as Eva had.

The conversation always started with compliments and discussion about the music he’d played.  He’d be self-effacing until it became clear this broad had some special knowledge about the pieces he’d chosen – there was a pattern, a sentimental reason, some music school flashback, or technical rationale for the selection.  

The musician would remember his manners and ask her to have a drink with him. She’d insist on paying; he wouldn’t object.  They’d move on to other topics, like her exquisite taste in clothing or her skill at the tables.  Now it was her turn to play humble and coy.  Then they’d talk about where their careers in casinos had taken them – how far beyond the stars had one gone compared to their companion.  Then another drink (he’d insist this time), then one or both of them would get a little brave with touching the other.  If he was a nice man (which this one was), he’d hesitate and make a joke to ensure Eva was on the same page he was (she always was). Careful hands would go to her hand, then perhaps to the side of her face.  She’d return the gesture by squeezing his knee, then maybe making a comment about his tie or the quality of his shirt or something that would lead her to touch his chest.

One of them would get impatient with this dance – Risha watched as the pianist cast a look at the barkeep to see if he was watching just as Eva decided to lean over toward him and make several suggestions about the rest of their evening.  Now he moved quickly to settle whatever outstanding debts there were, his hand moving to the hem of her dress, the silky sheer of her stockings under those well-trained fingers.  

And then they were off, his hand at the small of her back as they rapidly made their way to the employees’ elevator, as Eva anticipated.  As the elevator doors opened for them, Risha saw his hand migrate further south, and before the doors closed, he had her pinned to the wall of the elevator in a rather passionate kiss, her hands already working at his tie and the buttons of his shirt, his hands working up under her skirt, a flash of garter as the doors closed.

Mission successful for Eva.

Risha sighed.  Her friends were such weirdos.  This is what they considered a fun date night – Theron learning a bunch of dreadful lounge music, disappearing for a few weeks, then  pretending not to know his wife when she appeared;  Eva executing one of the covert ops he designed, showing off her skills at the pazaak table, wearing something beautiful yet deadly (at least three concealed weapons), and ‘finding’ a talented, lonely musician at the bar in order to get the secured comm link access needed to transmit the information back to Odessen.

Risha looked at the bottom of her glass.  Weirdos, but happily married weirdos.  Risha flagged down the waiter for just one more drink, and from her place at the top of the gambling floors, she toasted them.  “Happy first anniversary.”

[dbzebra]

A Son Family Christmas

A/N: Ok so this was originally a secret santa present from years ago, that I recently rediscovered and made some new additions and cleaned up some things. As usual this takes place in the End of Z era, this time 9 years after Majin Buu. And lots of cute family+ship fluff. might need to go to the dentist afterwards lmao

Words: 3721 (i got carried away lol)

Pairings: little bits of Gochi, HanVi, MarTen and K18. 

Mostly a Pan focused fic though! 

enjoy :)

Christmas Eve; Age 783. 

A blizzard howled and whistled from outside, covering the grassy mountain in a sparkling sheet of white snow. 

Mt. Paozu was pitch-dark, except for the lights that came from a small cottage deep in the woods. 

This was the home of Earth’s greatest hero.

The Son family decided to throw a Christmas party for themselves at their little mountain cottage. Goku invited Krillin and his family as well. The former monk was already pretty much family to Goku anyway, only more so when Goku and Krillin’s kids started dating each other the previous year. 

It was the day everyone was looking forward to, but nobody was more excited than Son Pan. 

Pan was three years old now, and could finally understand the concept of the holiday, as well as the magic and excitement behind waking up the next morning to find presents underneath the Christmas tree.

The toddler stared around at her grandparents’ fully decorated house in wide-eyed wonder. Garland wrapped around the railings and banisters; little models of Santa and reindeer on the countertops, a wreath on their front door, and so much more. Chi-Chi always loved going all out, it was her favorite holiday. 

But what really had young Pan’s attention was the big, beautiful Christmas tree sitting in the foyer, filling the house with the strong but familiar scent of the forest.  It dwarfed little Pan by several feet, but she wasn’t scared.  She loved it.  Lush green branches were adorned with ornaments of all shapes and colors. Rainbow lights twinkled in mesmerizing fashion. High above her head, at the very top of the tree, sat a big, shining golden star -- a decoration she got to add herself.

Every year, the Son family had a tradition to go out on Mt. Paozu and cut down the perfect tree. Goku knew the best spots. He always did -- even as far back as before Gohan was born. But nowadays they had to find two trees. One for Goku and Chi-Chi’s house, and the other for Gohan and Videl’s next door. 

Pan sighed. She just wanted it to be bedtime so it could be tomorrow! She wanted presents! Every minute felt like an hour to her. The little girl tiptoed around, looking for any hidden presents but found no luck. She frowned. How was she even sure Santa would really come?! She had to keep her mind off that tree and the eventual presents somehow or she’d go crazy! 

The three-year-old trotted into the kitchen to see what everyone else was up to. 

The adults were all hard at work preparing the feast. Chi-Chi, Videl, 18, and Gohan busied back and forth to create the feast. Krillin and Goku did what they could, but usually ended up making things worse so they were ordered to stay put at the dining room table. If Goku was out in the wilderness, he could cook meat or fish just fine. But using a stove and all those utensils just wasn’t his thing. 

Goku spotted his granddaughter looking around and called her over. “Pssst… Panny…”

The toddler tilted her head curiously to the side and went over to him, smiling as wide as could be. “Hi, Grandpa!” 

Goku flashed one of his signature grins in response. He then put a finger to his mouth, still smiling, signaling the little one to be quiet. Pan covered her mouth to stop from giggling. Secrets were fun!

Pan blinked as Goku momentarily glanced to his wife to see if she was watching. Luckily, she was too preoccupied. When the coast was clear, he reached into his pockets. 

“I got somethin’ for ya.”

Pan’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “What?”

 “Don’t tell Grandma, okay? It’s a secret…” Goku grinned mischievously as he pulled out a small bag of cookies. He had stolen a few when Chi-Chi wasn’t looking; the wait for the food combined with how good everything smelled was too much for him. Krillin just shook his head with a smile.

She happily took them from her grandpa and stuffed them all in her mouth in one bite. With her full cheeks puffed out, she grinned back at her grandpa and Goku returned it.

The toddler hugged Goku and smiled before trotting over the counter where Chi-Chi was cutting food and occasionally stirring something in a pot. Pan tugged on her dress lightly, peering up at her. “Grandma?”

“Yes sweetie?” Chi-Chi cooed, stopping what she was doing to face her darling granddaughter.

“Can I helps you?”

Gohan ruffled his daughter’s hair as he helped make a dish. “Pan, don’t bother Grandma when she’s cooking; we’re all working really hard on this meal for everyone. Why don’t you see what Marron and Uncle Goten are doing?” He felt bad, and spoke calmly to not upset his young daughter, but he knew more than anyone that Goten was better equipped to preoccupy her right now.

Pan pouted. “Fine.”

“Oh hush, Gohan. Everything’s on schedule,” Chi-ChI replied, making her granddaughter smile again. “And of course you can help, Panny. You can help stir for me!”

Pan floated up and gently stirred the hotpot, happily singing ‘la la la’ like she had heard her grandmother do in the past. “How long does this take? All the food is in this big bucket?” As it turned out, this wasn’t nearly as fun as she thought. 

“Should be all done in about thirty minutes.” Chi-Chi said, gently patting her head.

Pan’s mouth went into a small ‘o’ shape, trying to count how long that was on her fingers. It took her a bit to get to thirty “That takes too long. This is boring!” Pan replied.

Goku and Krillin tried not to laugh as she floated back down to the wooden floor. Their wives shot them a quick look and they both turned away, innocently whistling like they didn’t make a sound. Two peas in a pod, those two. 18 and Chi-Chi just giggled to themselves. 

Pan shrugged her shoulders, scurrying back to the living room to see if she could find her uncle. Goten always had the best video games to play! 

“Uncle Goten!! Where are ya!!?” Pan called out to him. 

No answer. Pan frowned. “Is he hidin’ from me?” She noticed the television was still on, and his phone sat on the couch. But no Uncle Goten. But then, she caught something out of the corner of her eye from the other side of the Christmas tree. 

Pan tiptoed around the tree, when she finally saw them right in the middle of a soft, tender kiss. Above their heads was a small mistletoe, hanging over the archway. In that moment nothing else mattered to them except each other.

Until...                     

CLICK

“Great shot, man.” 

The sound of a camera shuttering followed by the voice of Krillin broke the two teens out of their tender embrace. Goten’s jaw dropped, and then he just facepalmed with both hands. Marron followed his line of sight to see his father standing there, camera in hand. She should’ve expected this...

“Dad!! W-What are you doing?!” Marron practically shrieked. The blonde’s whole face went red from ear to ear, shoulders shaking. Steam was practically coming off her face. It was embarrassing enough her parents were so lovey-dovey on a regular basis, but now she got caught in the middle of her most awaited special moment with her Goten of the holiday season! 

“What does it look like? I’m capturing a special Christmas moment of my daughter!”

CLICK

Krillin  got another picture at their flustered reactions. “But that one was just for fun.”

“Your mother will get a kick out of this!” Goku added, sporting a wide grin similar to his oldest friend. 

“Grandpa! What’s that leaf over Uncle Goten’s head? Why were him and Aunt Marron playing kissy-face?” Pan asked eagerly. It looked like something she’d find on the ground before the snow came. She didn’t get why it was so special.

“It’s called a mistletoe, Pan. When two people get caught under it, they have to do that.”

“Misty Toe? That’s a dumb name!!” Pan broke into giggles again. “Uncle Goten is under a big toe!” 

Eighteen came out to the living room, ignoring the two former Turtle School fighters who were still carrying on about their kids. Marron and Goten didn’t find it so funny! 

“Marron, could you help me in here for a moment?”

“Sure!” Marron said, finally shaking off her flustered state and went to the kitchen. Any way to be away from this scenario. 

Shrugging, Goten turned on the PlayStation to kill some time. The familiar start up sound soothed his ears and he sat down to play. He let Pan play on his phone in the meantime.

“Hey Uncle Goten…?” Pan climbed up on the other side of the couch after getting bored rather quickly. 

“What’s up, squirt?”

“Is Santa Claus really comin’ tonight?”

“Definitely.” He grinned at her childlike innocence; it reminded Goten of himself at that age. “You gotta be asleep, though. He won’t come if you’re awake!”

“How does he know?”

Goten patted his niece’s head. “It’s ‘cause he’s magic, Panny.”

“Magic? Is that like how Grandma always knows when Grandpa does something bad?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Goten chuckled. For a three year old, Pan was much more aware of things than she let on. 

Coming back to the living room, Marron plopped down next to Goten, leaning against his arm. Now that she was over the embarrassment of getting caught by her father and Goku, the blonde wanted to make up for lost time. She watched him play for a bit, and then turned to him with a sly smirk. “Bet I can beat you.”

“Yeah you probably can, cause you’re a big cheater.” Goten replied with a cheeky grin, not keeping his eyes off the screen. 

“Hey! I am not a cheater!” Marron huffed, her bright blue eyes narrowing at him. “It’s not my fault you just get so easily distracted!”

“That’s why it’s cheating! You always play dirty by kissing me right when I’m about to win!!” 

“You call it cheating, I call it strategy.” 

Goten normally would never say no to a kiss from his beautiful girlfriend, but she’d always steal the win while he was still reeling from the kiss! It wasn’t fair! One time, Goten tried the same trick on her, but it didn’t quite work the way he intended. It backfired entirely, actually. As she just kissed him back and they both ended up completely  forgetting about the video game soon after that.  

Marron’s frown turned into a sly grin. If that’s how he wanted to play, fine. She knew exactly what buttons to push. “Fine. I just won’t kiss you ever again. How does that sound?”

“N-No, w-wait! I, uh...” Goten gulped. His mouth became dry, the words getting caught in his throat. He really did this time. Was this his worst fear coming true?!

The blonde giggled at his adorable panic-stricken face, satisfied with herself. “That’s what I thought, dummy. But still, lucky for you, I don’t think I could ever give this up~” Marron kissed his cheek again, leaving her boyfriend reeling as she went to the bathroom to freshen up before dinner. 

Goten put his head in his hands and let out an audible sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand girls…”

From across the couch, Pan started giggling. “Uncle Goten did something bad!” She didn’t really get what the big deal about kissy kissy was to begin with, but seeing her uncle all flustered like that had the toddler tickled pink.                                                  

The next twenty minutes rolled by quicker than ever, and finally, it was time to eat. 

The adults all came out carrying multiple trays and large bowls. The plates and silverware had already been set as the ever-growing Son family all took their seats around the table.

“Wait, Dad’s not here yet.” Chi-Chi said, looking worried. “Do you think he got stuck in the blizzard?”

“He’ll be here. I can sense his energy. Besides, he’s the Great Ox King! No way some storm is gonna stop him.” Goku confirmed, easing his wife’s worries. He winked at her and Chi-Chi smiled. 

And like clockwork, a few minutes later the door swung open. The cold wind blew snow onto the floor of the house, when in came a giant, jolly looking man with a grayish beard. He wore a large red coat and carrying lots of presents. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Pan gasped, practically standing up in her chair. A large jolly man with a big belly. Red coat. A beard. And carrying presents. That could only mean one thing… 

“Santa!!!?”

But she thought she had to be asleep! 

Chi-Chi hurried to the door to greet the man.  “Dad! You made it!”

“Hi, pumpkin!” Ox King hugged his daughter.  “Am I late? Sorry I missed the cooking, it’s like a blizzard out there! Can’t see a thing.”

Goku grinned. “You’re just on time. ” He went up to his father-in-law who brought the Saiyan into a big bear hug, followed by doing the same with his two grandchildren. 

Pan tilted her head to the side, more than a little confused. “...That’s not Santa?”

“No, honey. It’s your Great Grandpa Ox! You remember him, right?” Videl told her. Pan thought about it for a second, and the name was familiar! Her expression lightened when she remembered. Pan flew over to him and gave him a big hug.

As the adults got Ox King set up, Pan the conversation no mind as she stared at the pile of presents on the floor in awe. She gently tried to shake each box to try to guess what was inside but didn’t have much luck. 

“Mama, Papa, can I open them now??” She asked, barely containing her joy.

Gohan and Videl exchanged a look and sighed. “You can open Grandma and Grandpa’s present after dinner. The rest will have to wait ‘till tomorrow morning.”

“Okay!” Pan replied. That was good enough for her!

                                                                   And so with everyone in attendance, the feast could finally begin. 

In typical Saiyan fashion, the Son boys filled their plates far above regular capacity. Little Pan tried to mimic her grandpa and uncle and put as much food on her plate as her little hands could grab.

Krillin did his impression of Yajirobe for the others, especially Pan who never heard it before. 18 spoke her new job as a school teacher, and Videl’s new case as Satan City’s top detective, with her right hand man Great Saiyaman.

Meanwhile, In record time, Goku finished his plate and went back for more. Goten wasn’t far behind him. 

“More please!” 

“Me too!”

Father and son respectively said.

“I wants more too!” Pan said, and then remembered the thing to say that her parents taught her. “Um, peas!!”

Chi-Chi smiled. “Of course, angel.” And then turned her gaze to her younger son. “Oh, and Goten, you really should behave yourself in front of your future wife. It’s not polite to eat like that!” 

Gohan cracked a grin. “Yeah, Goten. Listen to Mom.”

“Not helping!”

Videl lightly slapped Gohan’s arm. “Oh stop. You’re one to talk, aren’t you? I distinctly remember a time when you were the one getting flustered whenever someone brought up our relationship.”

“Well that’s-”

“No excuses. You were a nervous wreck on our first date, remember? You wore your pants inside out!” Videl playfully poked his shoulder. She turned to Goten and winked. 

At least somebody was on his side….

Chi-Chi suddenly gasped. “Oh, I forgot the wine! Excuse me for a second.” She got up and went into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a large bottle. She poured a glass for each of the adults, minus Goku and Gohan. Goku didn’t like the taste, but Gohan wanted to try it.  

“Mom, can I have some?” Gohan asked.

“Absolutely not, mister! You know what happened last time. You dressed up as Saiyaman and put a performance on for everyone!  And you have Pan now, you need to be a better influence!” Chi-Chi scolded him, but the smile never left her face.

Gohan hung his head as Goku patted him on the back while Goten snickered.  “I’m sorry. I got carried away last time because everyone was having so much fun.”

“I for one loved it.” Videl gushed. “It reminded me of when we were still teenagers~”

“R-Really?!” Gohan said, blushing. 

“Oh fine, here.” Chi-Chi caved and handed her older son a glass. After a story like that, she couldn’t say no. 

When Goten went to reach for the bottle afterward, Chi-Chi gave a stern look to her younger son that practically screamed ‘don’t even think about it!’ 

Goten frowned, dejected. Every time he tried that, and every time he failed. And now it was Gohan’s turn to snicker.

Chi-Chi couldn’t help but laugh. Even though they were grown, her sons still had that little brotherly competition. 

“Boys will be boys...” Videl said and Chi-Chi nodded in affirmation. Especially her boys. 

Krillin took the bottle next. He put too much in his glass and then downed it. 

“Okay, lisssten up! I haaaave to make an announcement!!” Krillin declared and then burped.

Eighteen sighed. “Here we go…”

Everyone stopped to listen to him, with various degrees of amusement written all over their faces. Goku most of all. He  put down his food to give his best friend his full attention. Oh, he had been waiting for this. 

“Oh no, not again....” Marron said with a fearful expression, preparing for the worst. She was already embarrassed by him once. But twice? She’d rather bury her head in the snow outside. 

“What’s the matter?”

“When my dad drinks, he gets a little too happy and starts blurting out embarrassing things.” 

Krillin cleared his throat and began to speak. “I...I looove my wife!!”

“Huh?!” Eighteen was caught off guard by his confession as if it were the first time hearing it. 

“She’s sooo pretty… And so n-nice… And so cool!” Krillin hiccuped, putting his empty glass on the table. He hiccuped again, his goofy smile only getting larger. “She acts real tough, but… she’s a.. She’s a biiiiig softie! Like a---”

Eighteen covered her husband’s mouth before he could finish, her face turning the same crimson as her daughters did earlier as everyone laughed. “Krillin, s-stop it you idiot! W-We’re in public!”

“S-Stooop what? The party’s just getting started.”

Eighteen handed him a glass of water to get him to sober up before he blurted out something else. It didn’t take much to get Krillin loosened up, but he sobered up quickly as well. 

That big dork, blurting out something so embarrassing like that. She had a reputation to uphold! How was she supposed to freak Trunks and Goten out if they knew her ‘stone cold’ persona was just a big act?! In her own mind though, Eighteen swooned. But she wasn’t about to let anyone know! In public at least. 

Dinner wrapped up soon after. Not a single morsel was left over. 

“Time for presents!!” Pan said and then plopped down on the carpet in front of the tree, 

At the sight of her daughter, Videl’s couldn’t help but feel giddy. She was the same way at Pan’s age, and Pan’s joy was absolutely infectious. 

“This is a special present from me and Grandma.” Goku handed his granddaughter a large box. He wrapped his other arm around Chi-Chi and she rested her head on his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head. Nothing was better than being altogether as a family, watching her granddaughter open a present on Christmas Eve 

Pan ripped off the wrapping to find a plain white box inside. She curiously stared at it, and even shook it to try to hear what was inside. It didn’t sound like a toy, for one. Hearing nothing, she slowly took off the lid. 

Instantly Pan gasped. 

It was a small, red colored martial arts gi with matching belt and wristbands, and small blue fighting boots. 

Pan’s first gi. 

“This is the bestest present ever!” Pan’s entire face lit up like a star. “Can I go try it on?” 

Pan flew upstairs with her new gi, returning a few minutes later wearing it, still beaming. “Look at me, Papa! I look like Grandpa!”

Pan couldn’t be happier which made Gohan and Videl happy. 

“Oh, Pan, look, there’s something else in here.” Gohan pointed to the red object poking up of extra wrapping paper.

Pan then came face to face with a small red pole inside a sheathe, tied with a fresh rope. “What is this?” She stared at the mysterious item, confused. She liked it; it felt familiar. “Is it a baseball  bat?”

“No, sweetie, this is the Power Pole.” 

“Power Pole?”

“It used to be my grandpa’s. He gave it to me when I was little. And I took it all over the world looking for the Dragon Balls. I almost lost it a few times, but it always found it’s way back to me. One way or another. It was only natural to pass it onto you.”

Pan put the Power Pole around her shoulder. With a puff of her cheeks, Pan flexed her muscles. For the first time, Pan felt like a true fighter. 

“You look just like me!” Goku knelt down and held out his open hands. “Give it a shot.” 

Pan looked to her father, who nodded. Smiling, the toddler punched Goku’s open palm. 

“Yup, she's my granddaughter alright.” Goku grinned. “She’s got some serious power behind that punch.”

“Next present!” Pan exclaimed.

“Nope. Sorry, Pan. The rest have to wait till tomorrow, remember?” Gohan said.

“Aww, okay. But I bet those wont top this!” She waved the Power Pole around. It was best they didn't tell her it could grow just yet. 

Throughout the night, the sound of laughter could be heard coming from a small house deep in the woods. It could still be heard echoing in the valley, late into the night. Inside, the room was aglow with the love that is shared between family and friends. 

Pan’s first Christmas Eve was truly a night to remember for them all. And one she would never forget.

[magnetictapedatastorage]

I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

Full text of the (excellent) article is under the cut. (The Atlantic, March 8th, 2021)

I first became aware that I was losing my mind in late December. It was a Friday night, the start of my 40-somethingth pandemic weekend: Hours and hours with no work to distract me, and outside temperatures prohibitive of anything other than staying in. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to fill the time. “What did I used to … do on weekends?” I asked my boyfriend, like a soap-opera amnesiac. He couldn’t really remember either.

Since then, I can’t stop noticing all the things I’m forgetting. Sometimes I grasp at a word or a name. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and find myself bewildered as to why I am there. (At one point during the writing of this article, I absentmindedly cleaned my glasses with nail-polish remover.) Other times, the forgetting feels like someone is taking a chisel to the bedrock of my brain, prying everything loose. I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

RECOMMENDED READING

There’s No Real Reason to Eat 3 Meals a DayAMANDA MULL

The Pandemic’s Future Hangs in SuspenseTHE COVID TRACKING PROJECT

A Quite Possibly Wonderful SummerJAMES HAMBLIN

Everywhere I turn, the fog of forgetting has crept in. A friend of mine recently confessed that the morning routine he’d comfortably maintained for a decade—wake up before 7, shower, dress, get on the subway—now feels unimaginable on a literal level: He cannot put himself back there. Another has forgotten how to tie a tie. A co-worker isn’t sure her toddler remembers what it’s like to go shopping in a store. The comedian Kylie Brakeman made a joke video of herself attempting to recall pre-pandemic life, the mania flashing across her face: “You know what I miss, is, like, those night restaurants that served alcohol. What were those called?” she asks. “And there were those, like, big men outside who would check your credit card to make sure you were 41?”

Read: Sedentary pandemic life is bad for our happiness

Jen George, a community-college teacher from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, told me she is losing her train of thought in the middle of a sentence more and more often. Meanwhile, her third grader, who is attending in-person school, keeps leaving his books, papers, and lunch at home. Inny Ekeolu, a 19-year-old student from Ireland, says she has found herself forgetting how to do things she used to do on a regular basis: swiping her bus pass, paying for groceries. Recently she came across a photo of a close friend she hadn’t seen since lockdown and found that she couldn’t recognize her. “It wasn’t like I had forgotten her existence,” she told me. “But if I had bypassed her on the street, I wouldn’t have said hi.” Rachel Kowert, a research psychologist in Ottawa, used to have a standing Friday-night dinner with her neighbors—and went completely blank when one of them recently mentioned it. “It was really shocking,” Kowert told me. “This was something I really loved, and had done for a long time, and I had totally forgotten.”

This is the fog of late pandemic, and it is brutal. In the spring, we joked about the Before Times, but they were still within reach, easily accessible in our shorter-term memories. In the summer and fall, with restrictions loosening and temperatures rising, we were able to replicate some of what life used to be like, at least in an adulterated form: outdoor drinks, a day at the beach. But now, in the cold, dark, featureless middle of our pandemic winter, we can neither remember what life was like before nor imagine what it’ll be like after.

To some degree, this is a natural adaptation. The sunniest optimist would point out that all this forgetting is evidence of the resilience of our species. Humans forget a great deal of what happens to us, and we tend to do it pretty quickly—after the first 24 hours or so. “Our brains are very good at learning different things and forgetting the things that are not a priority,” Tina Franklin, a neuroscientist at Georgia Tech, told me. As the pandemic has taught us new habits and made old ones obsolete, our brains have essentially put actions like taking the bus and going to restaurants in deep storage, and placed social distancing and coughing into our elbows near the front of the closet. When our habits change back, presumably so will our recall.

That’s the good news. The pandemic is still too young to have yielded rigorous, peer-reviewed studies about its effects on cognitive function. But the brain scientists I spoke with told me they can extrapolate based on earlier work about trauma, boredom, stress, and inactivity, all of which do a host of very bad things to a mammal’s brain.

“We’re all walking around with some mild cognitive impairment,” said Mike Yassa, a neuroscientist at UC Irvine. “Based on everything we know about the brain, two of the things that are really good for it are physical activity and novelty. A thing that’s very bad for it is chronic and perpetual stress.” Living through a pandemic—even for those who are doing so in relative comfort—“is exposing people to microdoses of unpredictable stress all the time,” said Franklin, whose research has shown that stress changes the brain regions that control executive function, learning, and memory.

That stress doesn’t necessarily feel like a panic attack or a bender or a sleepless night, though of course it can. Sometimes it feels like nothing at all. “It’s like a heaviness, like you’re waking up to more of the same, and it’s never going to change,” George told me, when I asked what her pandemic anxiety felt like. “Like wading through something thicker than water. Maybe a tar pit.” She misses the sound of voices.

Prolonged boredom is, somewhat paradoxically, hugely stressful, Franklin said. Our brains hate it. “What’s very clear in the literature is that environmental enrichment—being outside of your home, bumping into people, commuting, all of these changes that we are collectively being deprived of—is very associated with synaptic plasticity,” the brain’s inherent ability to generate new connections and learn new things, she said. In the 1960s, the neuroscientist Marian Diamond conducted a series of experiments on rats in an attempt to understand how environment affects cognitive function. Time after time, the rats raised in “enriched” cages—ones with toys and playmates—performed better at mazes.

Ultimately, said Natasha Rajah, a psychology professor at McGill University, in Montreal, our winter of forgetting may be attributable to any number of overlapping factors. “There’s just so much going on: It could be the stress, it could be the grief, it could be the boredom, it could be depression,” she said. “It sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it?”

The share of Americans reporting symptoms of anxiety disorder, depressive disorder, or both roughly quadrupled from June 2019 to December 2020, according to a Census Bureau study released late last year. What’s more, we simply don’t know the long-term effects of collective, sustained grief. Longitudinal studies of survivors of Chernobyl, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina show elevated rates of mental-health problems, in some cases lasting for more than a decade.

I have a job that allows me to work from home, an immune system and a set of neurotransmitters that tend to function pretty well, a support network, a savings account, decent Wi-Fi, plenty of hand sanitizer. I have experienced the pandemic from a position of obscene privilege, and on any given day I’d rank my mental health somewhere north of “fine.” And yet I feel like I have spent the past year being pushed through a pasta extruder. I wake up groggy and spend every day moving from the couch to the dining-room table to the bed and back. At some point night falls, and at some point after that I close work-related browser windows and open leisure-related ones. I miss my little rat friends, but I am usually too tired to call them.

Read: The most likely timeline for life to return to normal

Sometimes I imagine myself as a Sim, a diamond-shaped cursor hovering above my head as I go about my day. Tasks appear, and I do them. Mealtimes come, and I eat. Needs arise, and I meet them. I have a finite suite of moods, a limited number of possible activities, a set of strings being pulled from far offscreen. Everything is two-dimensional, fake, uncanny. My world is as big as my apartment, which is not very big at all.

“We’re trapped in our dollhouses,” said Kowert, the psychologist from Ottawa, who studies video games. “It’s just about surviving, not thriving. No one is working at their highest capacity.” She has played The Sims on and off for years, but she always gives up after a while—it’s too repetitive.

Earlier versions of The Sims had an autonomous memory function, according to Marina DelGreco, a staff writer for Game Rant. But in The Sims 3, the system was buggy; it bloated file sizes and caused players’ saved progress to delete. So The Sims 4, released in 2014, does not automatically create memories. PC users can manually enter them, and Sims can temporarily feel feelings: happy, tense, flirty. But for the most part, a Sim is a hollow vessel, more like a machine than a living thing.

The game itself doesn’t have a term for this, but the internet does: “smooth brain,” or sometimes “head empty,” which I first started noticing sometime last summer. Today, the TikTok user @smoothbrainb1tch has nearly 100,000 followers, and stoners on Twitter are marveling at the fact that their “silky smooth brain” was once capable of calculus.

This is, to be clear, meant to be an aspirational state. It’s the step after galaxy brain, because the only thing better than being a genius in a pandemic is being intellectually unencumbered by mass grief. People are celebrating “smooth brain Saturday” and chasing the ideal summer vibe: “smooth skin, smooth brain.” One frequently reposted meme shows a photograph of a glossy, raw chicken breast, with the caption “Cant think=no sad .” This is juxtaposed against a biology-textbook picture of a healthy brain, which is wrinkled, oddly translucent, and the color of canned tuna. The choice seems obvious.

Some Saturday not too long from now, I will go to a party or a bar or even a wedding. Maybe I’ll hold a baby, and maybe it will be heavy. Inevitably, I will kick my shoes off at some point. I won’t have to wonder about what I do on weekends, because I’ll be doing it. I’ll kiss my friends and try their drinks and marvel at how everyone is still the same, but a little different, after the year we all had. My brain won’t be smooth anymore, but being wrinkly won’t feel so bad. My synapses will be made plastic by the complicated, strange, utterly novel experience of being alive again, human again. I can’t wait.

ELLEN CUSHING

is the special-projects editor at The Atlantic.

[we-rate-tmnt]

Give us the Donatellos!

Donnie is my favorite so Imma be super biased on this one. Maybe I like smart guys or maybe purple is my favorite color, you’ll never know!

Up first, the og ‘hehe turgle’

Donatello (1987)

Yeah I’m sorry for making this 

First of all, not the biggest fan of his voice. It has a bit of a whiny quality to it, and I’m not about all that jazz. His gismo’s look pretty lame a lot of the times, either it’s a grey box with some buttons, dials and flashing lights or looks like it was pulled directly from Lost in Space. Still a cute design but he felt pretty bland and seemed to be used for plot convenience most of the time. To put it simply, he was cute and essential but kinda bland. I’m always really harsh on this version because it’s so painfully dated and cheesy, which ain’t my cup of tea, but what can I say be hehe turgle.

5/10

I had a crush on this Donnie so you know that this is not remotely close to a fair rating but eh, I love him and yall do too

Don (2003)

His voice, such a huge improvement. I’m really sound-oriented and I often like to play a game of ‘I’ve heard the VA before, but which role?’ when I watch cartoons and I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty good at it. So when I heard that soft, caring voice, ten year old me was head over heels. Which is one quality I love about him. His heart is so huge, like I can think back to a bunch of side characters and most of them were introduced through Don helping or knowing them. The Atlantians and the homeless in the show owe so much to Don, but he goes out of his way to make sure that they are alright. In the last season (which everyone hated but I actually really liked so fuck me I guess), Splinter is lost into tiny pieces across the web and Don blames himself and goes without sleep and food for days to bring him back. It broke my heart, and I’m pretty sure a lot of others, to see him like that.

On a lighter note, I vaguely remember this one scene where the triceration dude is like ‘you did this!’ and Don’s like ‘I did? Good for me then.’ and had a very pleased grin on his face right after. I don’t know why, but that killed me. Bless Don and his rare, but excellent, comebacks.

He really does so much and there were quite a few episodes focused on him. He also had quite a bit of character development, not as much as Leo, but whoever gets any more development whatsoever besides Leo?

I love him he’s amazing protect him/10

Next up is the Donnie that helped me love my old gap tooth.

Donnie (2012)

Voiced by the very talented Rob Paulson, this Donnie goes back and forth from really great character to eh. The whole April thing was just kinda strange to me and I don’t really think it added anything other than some interesting Casey and Donnie banter. His crush was really strong the first two seasons and came off as stalkerish almost. Although I’m guilty of having a picture of a crush as my lock screen once as well, so I can’t judge that much. I really liked that they actually addressed this when Bigfoot had a crush on Donnie and he realized how April felt. Yeah, that episode was weird and just didn’t make any sense, but it really helped Donnie gain a new perspective and made him go from super crush to (mostly) hidden pining. He has a nice design as well, especially with the gap tooth. I used to have one and was really embarrassed of it but whenever I saw that Donnie had one, I thought it looked neat and I started to see myself in a more positive light. It’s closed up now, but I can still spray water between the little bit that’s left as a parlor trick. But seriously, what the FUCK was up with Don visiososoos whatever tf his name I I don’t understnad my tiny brain don’t understand why my purple boy tried to kill this dude who looked like he should’ve been wearing a red jumpsuit in the background of a pixar robot love story. Anyway, my tall gap tooth son, ily.

7/10

Then, the barely changed but fantastic

Donnie (Heroes in a Half Shell: Blast to the Past)

Baby but Bastard at the same time purely because of the ‘Anyone who bothers me, ejector seat button’s right there’ line. 

10/10

Now this version has one of my favorite designs out of all the Donatello’s!

Donatello (2014/2016)

They put a lot of thought into his design psychically, the long body, the near-constant look of surprise and curiosity in his features, the gadgets made of common objects, the wraps on his arms, I would love to be able to think of and make those kinds of details! It was all really well thought out and he stood out since he wasn’t as bulky as the rest of the turtles. I really like the little lines and the actor did a fantastic job on the delivery and really made the character come to life. Some favorites: ‘Ohmygod, they have guns’, the little awed, snorty chuckle when he flips a car over with his bo staff, ‘doitdoitoitdoit im not gonna stop til you do it doditdoit’ and when he straight up yeets himself out of a plane. He has a genuine curiosity in everything he does and I think he might be my favorite version. It’s hard to choose when it comes to Donnie because he varies so wildly. But for detail, voice and writing alone, definitely the 2014 Donnie.

8.5/10

Next up is God himself

Donnie (2018)

Chaotic as all hell, like I can’t think of a more chaotic character from ANY of the versions other than this Donnie. I have a lot of thoughts about his character in general, from design, to psychology and complexes. First and foremost, Donnie is a softshell turtle, meaning he has a DOPE battle shell and overall looks pretty damn neat. Although, I think that just the fact he’s biologically weaker has caused him to put up a lot of boundaries between him and his family and friends. He can’t be incredibly strong like Raph, agile like Leo or fast like Mikey and even though he brags about being smart, he feels almost beneath his brothers and strives to outdo them in any way he can. He wants to show them that he’s just as, if not more so, talented and feels overlooked because his inventions become ‘too smart’ or ‘too over the top’ and even the ones that work out incredibly well are written off for flashier projects. 

He depends on technology and feels like that's all he has, and (ironically enough) he’s built up a shield around him. He acts confident and narcissistic and has an almost nihilistic outlook, but he’s frustrated and feels inferior and wants validation more than anything. I came up with this theory when I saw the episode Turtle Dega Nights. I know that the scene was meant for Donnie to express how he feels about Splinter lying about the event and believe that he didn’t genuinely want to hang out with his sons, but that kind of thing feels like it’s been built up over time, like he’s been lied to before about the true meaning behind something. Something like, oh idk, how great his inventions are? Or how helpful he really is? Or how talented he is? Just sayin. Also ngl I might be self projecting a bit, but mmm. Also he has so much purple on him and it’s wayyy more accurate compared to just a purple bandanna bc people who like purple GO ALL OUT. A friend told me this and I thought ‘nah thats not true I like purple’ but then I looked down to find my dyed purple jeans, purple vans and my favorite hoodie, also purple. A really chaotic version but he seriously needs a hug.

9/10

Storytime: One time my friend dressed up as Donnie the same year I was dressing as April O’ Neal and we didn’t even plan it. It was fantastic.

Thank you so much for sending this in! Sorry it’s taking me so long to get around to these! I’m so glad you guys are liking my blog and my opinions!

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // read on AO3 // @today-in-fic​

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

CHAPTER 3

Arlington National Cemetery One week later 9:17 am

Leaves rustled in the trees overhead as the honor guard reloaded and repositioned their rifles. The sharp bang, like a hit on a snare drum, echoed through the eerie calm of the cemetery. I could feel it happening again. Everytime I thought I was past this nonsense it kept coming back. I wanted to close my eyes but it would have brought me back to the mud and rain of Wake Island. When you’ve been knee deep in death you never forget it. I could still smell the humid air, the burnt powder, the smoke.

I closed my eyes for a moment and balled my fist tighter as images clear as photographs flashed before me. Three years ago, I donned the dress blues and watched a soldier from my company laid to rest. It felt like I was having a heart attack as I listened to the twenty-one guns and the cries of his grieving widow. Fingers pressed hard creating a thick new line in my palm and my flashback dissolved. 

Each shot up to this point was torture. My salute wavered with the final pop and I felt the elephant on my chest move aside, allowing me to breathe a little. A bead of sweat broke free from under my hatband and took a slow slide down my temple. The back of my neck prickled. I swallowed hard and moved to parade rest as the honor guard queued up and left the gravesite. My fingers slowly loosened their curl and I felt the circulation return to the tips. Once the ringing in my ears stopped I was able to appreciate the sound of silence. 

It was a small group of mourners, mainly fellow Marines from Spender’s company and a few officers from the precinct. He had no wife, no kids, not sure if his mother was still alive. Seems that the only family representative was his father. Jeffrey had the distinction of a military funeral at Arlington due to his rank and heroics at Guadalcanal. At the drop of a hat he would tell the story about surviving hand-to-hand combat and rescuing a senior officer during a nighttime raid. I’m sure each time he retold it, that fish got a little bigger. At any rate, he’s now buried amongst other honorable men. His father was able to cut through any red tape like a hot knife through butter to make it happen. And almost as if on cue I spied the old man in his expensive dark striped suit accepting condolences. I recognized him through the smoke cloud that hung around like a bad party guest. I suppose he could feel my eyes on him because he headed my direction. He gestured to another older gentleman, who I assumed was his driver, and continued his approach. It was the first time I was able to truly observe him. He had all the obvious characteristics of old D.C. politics; dower demeanor, rigid walk, air of superiority.

“Sir, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said flatly as he approached. The scent of Morleys invaded my nose.

“Thank you, mister -?” He asked while offering a perfunctory handshake. 

“Mulder,” I replied as I shook his hand then tugged at my uniform jacket. 

“Ah yes,” he practically hissed, “You were Jeffrey’s partner in the vice unit. Keeping the city safe from crime and debauchery.” The cigarette smoking man took one more drag then let the stick hang on his lower lip. “My son had great potential. To be killed in the line of duty is a tragedy.”

 I didn’t know what type of condolence to offer. I wasn’t great friends with his son in the first place, it was a professional relationship and not much more.

“The precinct lost a good detective,” I finally managed to say. Jesus, that felt bitter on my tongue. I licked my lips, hoping this conversation would soon be over; my pleasantries were skating on thin ice. The Smoking Man stubbed out his cigarette and rattled off something about his resources that could aid in our murder investigation. Apparently he and the commissioner were old chums and justice would be swift. Then he took the cue and left. I stole a deep breath and watched him head towards his driver then enter a large black Cadillac that was parked at the base of the knoll.  

My feet hit the pathway just as I heard my name being called from over my shoulder. I paused and turned to see Captain Skinner walking my direction. 

“Just had a conversation with Spender’s old man.” I said.

“Is that so?” He questioned as he removed his glasses.

“Turns out he has the district police in his pocket so my services might not be needed with this investigation,” I said sarcastically.

“Did he know your connection to the case?”

“He knows I was Spender’s partner, but not that I was at the scene.” 

Skinner squared his jaw then continued to walk past me away from the thinning crowd. I followed.

“I’m awaiting the final report from the coroner. They found something of interest on the autopsy.”

“A different cause of death? Figured the gunshots were obvious,” I said.

“There was additional bloodwork. I’m not certain what the M.E. was looking for, which is why I want the final report.” He stopped and faced me. “Mulder, I don’t typically recommend this course of police action however this is a unique situation.” 

“Sir?”

“I want you to use whatever channels you have available. Legal or -- otherwise. Use the boys in forensics to your advantage. See if you can get that report and keep this ‘eyes only.”

I raised an eyebrow at the request. It’s not everyday your boss asks you to operate in the gray. Then it clicked.

“You want to keep this hush-hush.”

“I want to keep the reputation of this precinct and my vice unit intact,” he replied cryptically. I could only nod and watch as he slowly left for his car. I took an opposite path. There was a humming in my head that I wanted to knock loose with a stroll.

Flanked by rows of white crosses on green hills I continued along the pathway and suddenly saw a familiar flash of red. She was standing at a simple headstone, adjusting a small arrangement of flowers. Out of respect I waited until she stepped away onto the path before I approached.

“Excuse me,” I called from behind with a casual wave of my hand. When she looked over her shoulder I knew it was her.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss,” I began but clammed up when I saw those pools of blue. In that instant, that split second, it’s like I forgot the damn English language. My feet kept moving and I tried to say something.

“It’s no bother,” she said, thankfully.

“Are you by chance a nurse at Washington General?” I finally sputtered as we stopped walking. She nodded then thought for a moment, her arms hugged her petite frame.

“You look familiar,” she said with a delicately pointed finger, “Have we met before?” 

“We have,” I replied. She cautiously moved closer to size me up. She surveyed my uniform and I felt like I was back in the barracks.

“You were the -- detective, right? -- who worked on a last name basis?”

“That’s my calling card. The name’s Mulder,” I said, “Remind me yours?”

“Dana Scully,” she said with a hint of a polite smile.

Scully. There it was. The stray thread was pulled and unraveled the memory of her name, each and every letter. She continued, 

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Almost back to my pitching prime.” I replied as I gave it a roll. I had to watch myself with this one. Memory like a steel trap. Her head tilted curiously to the side. 

“You clean up nice.” There was a quick flush to her cheeks as she took a small step back, wishing that remark stayed to herself. I smiled and now it was my turn to shift gears.

“I saw you laying down some flowers.” I said, curiosity getting my proverbial cat. Her lips pressed together. 

“My father,” she said, “He is - was - a captain in the Navy. It was six years ago; Midway. I like to keep his flowers fresh if I can.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied with the only thing I could muster. Her statement was simple but knocked the wind out of my sails. Scully dipped her head and nodded. She then asked,

“Do you have someone here?”

“I’ve got a couple guys from my company, though I don’t visit too often. But today was my partner.”

“Oh,” she said softly, “It’s a funny state of the world when you can have a conversation about who you lost as easy as asking ‘how’s the weather.’”

For a moment I had nothing to say. A thousand scenarios ran through my head. I wanted to know more, I wanted to know everything about her. There was a natural beauty of course but something about her mind reeled me in. I cleared my throat. This chat was on the verge of getting cozy but seemed out of place in the current setting.

“May I walk you to your car?” 

“Thank you but I’ll be fine. My sister is waiting for me. Besides, we only just met.” A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.” 

Playing coy, I liked that.

“Well then, good day Miss Scully.” 

“Good day Mr. Mulder.” She shook my hand and lingered for a moment. “If you’re ever in Georgetown look me up. Hopefully we can meet again.” 

“I sincerely hope so,” I said. She turned heel and left me on the path. The curve of her pencil skirt, a flutter of the hem, the lines of her smart blouse made the goodbye feel less permanent. I listened to a breeze sweep through the tree line then I backtracked to where I was parked. 

I needed to get out of this uniform.

-------

Hegal Place Alexandria, VA

My apartment felt stale. I forced open a window to let in some fresh air. In the wardrobe hung one clean, pressed dress shirt along with my police dress blues. Of course the only shirt remaining was the one I wore the night Spender was killed. The good thing about an old jaded dry cleaner is you get quality work and little questions. I sipped my coffee and remembered I might have a vacation shirt stashed away in a drawer. As I donned the new shirt I heard the phone ring. I was waiting for a call from the boys in forensics who were a little too eager to give me a hand. 

“Mulder? It’s Frohike.”

“What have you found?”

“As you know, Langley and I were able to fish out a casing from the bathroom stall door, the back wall and a sneaky little devil in the bar. Turns out these paired nicely with the one lodged in Spender’s abdomen.”

“Who’d the weapon belong to?”

“Carlo Lodi.” Frohike asked. I scanned through the mugshot portfolio in my head. There he was. A hulking brute nicknamed The Titan who was quick with a fist and a trigger.

“Yeah. He’s one of Vincenti’s favorite enforcers.”

“We’ve seen his handiwork before,” Frohike continued, “He leaves a real pretty signature, although he’s usually a little more precise. Execution style seems to be his forté.”

“That’s what I thought when I was at the scene. I still don’t know if he intended to take me out as well.”

“Just like you to get in the way, Mulder.” There was a chuckle in the other end of the phone.

“Hey Frohike, has the final report come in from the M.E.?” 

“Ah, funny you should mention that. I have a preliminary copy and it shows that there was heroin in his system.”

“Shit,” I stated after a pause.

“What is it?”

“It means Krycek was right.”

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

Blessing in Disguise

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Hospitals, Explosions, depictions of pain, allusions to mania and depression, self harm/unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of death and the dead, gambling, potential underage drinking, theft, guns, gun violence, depictions of bullet wounds, and drunk people. 

Word Count: 3.4k

Songs: All the kids are depressed- Jeremy Zucker, Everywhere- Chloe x Halle, Middle Child- J. Cole, She Knows- J. Cole, Breezeblocks- alt-J, Pussycat Doll-Flo Milli, It’s Been So Long- The Living Tombstone, Take me to Church- Hozier, Good Kid- Kendrick Lamar, Death of a Bachelor- Panic! At the Disco, Them Changes- Thundercat, Detention- Melanie Martinez, Recess- Melanie Martinez, Something for your M.I.N.D- Superorganism 

A/N: I actually hate this chapter because I feel like the writing doesn’t flow. I feel like it’s to jampacked with things that don’t do anything to push the story forward. Anyway I hope you still read it anyways. 

Series Masterlist   Previous Part   Next Part

I did the hand sign stating I’d stand. I knew I won for sure this time because I had a perfect hand of 21. The two other people playing against groaned as I was declared the winner yet again. 

Swiping the chips for the 3rd time since I’d been at the casino. I decided to take my wins and make my way to the bar that our “target” was residing. 

I had a hunch on where Carmen was but had no actual idea. I’d just text her. In the meantime I had this grown ass man to make a move on. 

I was like 97% sure I had the right guy anyway. I looked much older than usual tonight due to Carmen being a makeup goddess and I gotta say flirting can get you a long way. 

“Hey,” I spoke, sitting on the bar stool next to the man.

He looked up at me mumbling a quick hey.

“You expecting someone?” 

“Nope,” He popped the ‘p’ “What about you?”

“Same as you,”

“Now I don’t believe someone as beautiful as you is here alone,” He moved his arm that much closer to mine. I pushed out a smile and giggled. 

“I could say the same about you,” We made eye contact for a second “But no seriously, I’m just here with a girlfriend. It was my birthday yesterday but she wasn’t free so we came out today,” I lied. 

“How old did you turn?”

“Twenty Two,” He nodded seemingly content with the answer. 

“So you’re not around here are you?”

“Either you’re a genius or I’m just very bad at blending in, no I’m from New York,” 

“Ah, I have some friends in New York, which part?” 

“Harlem actually but I recently moved to Queens,” I lied again. 

“Oh I don’t many from those cities,”

“If we're being honest I don’t know many people from Queens either my life’s been more hectic ever since I moved,”

“I hear you,” He informed me, leaning on the small backing the stools had. 

We talked for about 15 more minutes, him explaining the switch between New York to Nevada. Then Carmen walked up to me and feigned drunkenness signaling she was done with her job. I made my way back. To the man who’s name I still hadn’t learned. 

“As much fun as I was having talking to you, my friend is way too drunk to be out in public so we should probably head back to the hotel.” I sat back on the barstool turning my legs towards the man batting my eyes 

“Could I possibly use your phone to call an Uber mine is dead?” 

“Yeah of course you can…” His sentence fizzed off at the end in place of where my name would be.

“Ciara,” I filled in “And you are?” 

“Jim” He started handing me the phone.

I used his phone for an entirely different reason than I’d claimed. The project Carmen had been working on was melting the wires together to fix the flash drive that works inside of phones. It hadn’t worked in years.

It took about a minute to duplicate the phone's data. I stuck the flash drive in my bra before going to give the phone back. 

Just as I started moving a loud argument broke out, by the drunk accents I could tell it would soon get violent. Seeing as I had many experiences with an aggressive drunk. I wasn’t going to take my chances and began turning towards the main exit.

 I heard the first shot echo followed by another. Soon everyone was shooting. Including Carmen who I think just wanted an excuse to shoot at people passing it off as “protecting her friends”. 

She was closer to the exit than I was so she slid me the gun and I was able to ward off anyone shooting in our general direction. Not for long though. A bullet lightly grazed my dominant arm’s shoulder; it still dug in enough to do some sweet damage. 

Fuck

What’s up with me? I haven’t been on my A game lately. 

We were also out of bullets. Mostly because we weren’t actually expecting to have to fucking shoot at people. I ducked back down behind the bar trying not to get caught on the broken glassware. 

“I think it would be a good time to do that thing?” I asked. 

She rolled her eyes 

“You know I hate doing it,”

“Well I’m literally bleeding out,” I dramatized pointing to my shoulder. “So if you want to get out of here not in body bags, do the thing,” 

“Alright, just this one time,” She begrudgingly made her way out from behind the bar and away from me. 

I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the glass around me rained down and the bar shook. I could slightly hear the cries from beneath my hands. Once she moved back over to me 

“See that wasn’t so bad, birdy,” I scrambled up to my feet ignoring the pull in my shoulder. 

I made my rounds grabbing Jim’s phone, cash, wallets, watches, and anything else that looked expensive from pockets and the ground. 

I stood awkwardly staring at my feet as I slid from side to side with my butt planted on my skateboard. 

“Hi,” I heard squinting my eyes looking up revealing a equally nervous looking Peter

“Hey,” I nodded at him. 

The conversation wasn’t as awkward as I thought it’d be he’d apparently asked Liz to prom and he said yes. Which I was definitely super happy about because why wouldn’t I be? 

Anyway who cares about that anyway. Props to Peter for not bringing up the whole ghosting everyone thing for like a week thing. Because if he didn’t bring it up I was going to act like it never happened. 

We talked about everything and anything. From favorite candies or colors to our beliefs about life after death. I’d found out his favorite candy were skittles, favorite color: red and that he was Jewish but not necessarily religious and didn’t believe in heaven or hell but he believed in the eternity of a soul. 

I’d told him that my favorite candy was F/C, my favorite color being pink and that I didn’t know what I believed in. I believed in a higher power but not that they were inherently good because of all the suffering on earth. I’d told him if they weren’t good and had abandoned us while alive. Why would they care or have any plan for us into the afterlife? I think that part is up to us, and what we believe. I’m trying not to think about death.

Then like clockwork he had to leave before 9 which is funny because it’s like he wasn’t even trying to hide his secret identity. He’d told me he lost the internship and normally his excuse to leave was the internship. 

I just guess that means he no longer has Stark’s backup. He only had it for a while anyway he’d be fine without it again. Actually when I think about it,  from his behavior he’d exhibited as Spiderman in the short few months I’d had the displeasure of knowing him as ‘Thorn’ he’d be weak. He was unconfident, relied on his tools far too much. Couldn’t see himself without the suit. So maybe he was really just going home. So he’d be fine. 

I’d also be fine. No matter how much it didn’t look like it at the moment. I’d be fine. I was always fine. I was fine without my mom, without Rose, without my dad, without Olivia and any one else I’d ever been stupid enough to get attached to. I’d bounce back. I always did. 

It’d taken Carmen much convincing to not sit around and babysit me 24/7 because of my shoulder. She was sure that I’d do something dumb and it would get infected. 

 I was sitting on MJ’s bed getting ready for homecoming. My neck jerked again as Bri attempted to detangle and braid my hair. 

If I hadn’t spiraled into the Vulture, Kingpin and SHIELD, rabbit hole I probably would have taken better care of myself and my hair. 

“Stop moving,” She tsked.

“Stop trying to rip my head off my neck,” I hissed back. 

Bri did my nails back when we were still at her house waiting for MJ to pick us up. She actually did pretty good. I think she would do great at a cosmetology school. She's pretty much into everything: hair, nails, makeup the whole nine yards. She did all of that for me. 

The make up was very simple, but I was still able to get my signature winged eyeliner. Winged eyeliner is something very dear to me mostly because Rose was the first to put me on it and I wore it everyday since. It kinda felt disrespectful to stop at this point.

The only thing left was the dress MJ had gifted me. Her mom bought her a dress but she still refused to wear dresses so she returned it for this one, she opted for a very nice pantsuit she already had. Then Bri's outfit of course matched her boyfriend’s. 

I’ve never really liked school dances they’re always so overhyped, but I go to them all anyways, because then I get in on all the drama. It helped me build up my arsenal of knowledge about everyone. 

I was sitting at one of the round tables near the entrance with MJ, Bri, and Olivia. We had a bottle of “Gatorade” open and out for anybody who wanted to drink it. I was about to drink from it when I saw Liz enter alone. 

I made my way over to her.

“Where’s Peter? I thought he asked you?” 

“I don’t even know he just ditched me,” She let out a deep breath. 

“Aw I’m sorry,” I wrapped my good arm around her shoulder.

 “Well don’t think about that asshole, you’re way out of his league anyway,” I assured her to which she let out a weak laugh. 

“Come sit with me and my friends,” 

 A girl with knockers dancing all along her head came up to before speaking 

“Why are you crying?” 

I sniffed pulling my head from my arms. 

“I miss my mom,” 

“I miss my mom sometimes but I like my grandma too,”

“Where’s your mom?” I asked.

“I don’t know my grandma says she’s sick,” She shrugged. “Where’s your mom?”

“Well my grandma says she’s in a better place now but I know that just means dead,” 

“Yeah my dad is dead too so I know what you mean, I’m Rose. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” 

“Y/N, that's a pretty name,” She smiled. “You wanna come sit with me and my friends Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

I jumped a bit at the voice before matching it to MJ

“What?” I asked in a harsher tone then necessary.  

“Jeez sorry,” She reeled back “Someone is asking for you named Carmen. They said it’s important,” She waved her phone around. 

My face dropped and I hoped no one caught it. 

I grabbed the phone exiting the auditorium.

“Okay what’s up?” 

“You know Liz’s dad whatever her name is but yeah, He’s gonna rob that plane that’s moving everything from the Avengers tower,” She rushed

“What!?”

Holy shit 

That must be where Peter’s went. So he figured it out too. Kid’s smarter than I give him credit for.

“I’ll send you the location on your phone,”

“Why didn’t you just call me from there?”

“Because you never answer it,”

“True,” 

“Y/N?” She whispered.

“Yeah?” 

“Be careful,” 

“Always,” I smiled. 

I rushed out of the building not thinking about how I could get caught. Near the buses there was the new Shocker lying unconscious. 

I took the webshooter I found next to him. Then made a run for it. Stopping to hot wire the nearest car, I sped to one of the locations that I knew Vulture’s team kept their weapons at. I was throwing everything in the same pile. Getting ready to destroy them. 

Then the door creaked open.

I felt the bed dip as my brother sat next to me. 

“Are you coming?”

I pulled the cover off my face 

“Why should I?”

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t,” 

“No I won’t leave me alone,” I pulled the cover back over my head. 

“You gotta eat something,” 

“No I don’t leave me alone,” 

“Y/N…”

I knew what he was going to say and I didn’t wanna hear it. 

“She would want you to eat something,”

“Fuck you! How would you ever know what she would've wanted? No one here knew her and now one will ever get the chance to again so just leave me alone,” 

“Y/N-“

“Don’t Y/N me, get the fuck out of my room,” He sat there for a second, stunned “NOW!” 

As soon as the door closed and I flipped back over

I was shaken back into the present only to find that I was pinned under the man who’d entered the room before I zoned out. He reached for the nearest weapon. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Which is rare. I have a whole weapons catalog in my brain. Unfortunately for him he couldn’t grab it without giving me leeway to get from underneath them. 

Unfortunately for me I put too much pressure on my arm in the seconds I took to grip my shoulder recuperating myself. The man had fired the weapon he had at the pile of weapons that I stumbled back towards. 

The weapons then emitted purple light before exploding leaving me caught under some wood and concrete as the ringing in my ears only got louder and louder.

The fire around me crackled loudly and I bit my lip.

The smoke was only getting more plentiful.

I started coughing which only got more and more painful.

When I came to myself, I wasn’t choking anymore and the fire around me had died down. I was able to push myself from underneath the rubble holding me down. Not without lots of pain though.

The dress I was wearing was torn completely, holes big enough to see what I was wearing underneath it already. 

So I just took it off.

It wasn’t like I was completely naked I was wearing boxers. Not like I haven’t left the house in a bra and shorts before. Also who gives a fuck I just almost died. 

It was like 35° but I wasn’t cold in the slightest. I was actually kind of hot.

If my phone was accurate the plane had already made it near the edge of Queens and Staten Island. Rushing there I was seconds late as I saw the plane crash after I saw two figures fighting along it. 

There was fire everywhere but I wasn’t thinking. I was just running because I couldn’t make out Peter’s shape and if he was dead- 

I swear to fucking God if he was dead. Not again. I couldn’t handle another death.

Peter was saying something. No, pleading as the Vulture stood tall with his wings still intact. He was talking about how it was a nice try and he doesn’t know what he’s messing with.

Peter might not but I knew what this was. I also knew I wasn’t letting him get away with it. 

The wings started producing visible waves of heat. Then it hit me, what Peter was trying to say. The wings were gonna blow.  I got a head start and lunged towards the man. The element of surprise was on my side. That was until he used the wings to lift himself off the ground. 

Now I was fine with parkour and other activities, but being lifted off the ground by someone else, someone who’d never interacted with me ever, is where I draw the line. Then Peter was shooting a web at the wings. To which Vulture dropped me to go after him.

Oh hell no.

“Give it up Peter,” He continued to get closer and closer as the webs were continuously cut through. 

You know how people say they see in red when they get angry? Well the opposite of that happens to me I just see black. Remembering very little to nothing.

Last thing I remembered was fire just fire. From my fingertips, arms, head. It destroyed the wings in seconds, before they had a chance to blow up on their own. 

Peter webbed up the man before moving out of my sight. 

How the fuck do you get fire coming from your body. 

 Literally what the actual fuck. 

I couldn’t breathe. 

That’s what it was, I was dying, I was probably in some coma and this was a weird hallucination my brain pushed out in its final moments.

Okay this is it. I was dying suffocating in some coma.

Or even worse this wasn’t a coma and I was going to die with my body lit on fire literally.

“Oh my God,” I gasped trying to get air into my lungs. 

I closed my eyes and when I opened them Peter was in front of me in a torn up ripoff suit. 

“Y/N,” He moved trying to catch my eye.

“Y/N, Y/N breathe…”

I couldn’t really process his words. My mind was clouded with fear, fear and anger. 

Before I knew it I was hitting my head so I wouldn’t hit anyone or anything else. It’d been a coping mechanism I used ever since I was 3. 

Peter reached for my arms reeling back after his hands came into contact with my boiling skin. 

“Y/N you have to calm down,” He moved in front of me.

I stopped moving my hands but it was still difficult to breathe.

The monitors beeped all around me and if I closed my eyes  and concentrated hard enough. I could convince myself they were birds. 

I could tell from the patter of the knock on the door that it was Rose. 

“Come in!” I called out.

She picked up the clipboard examining it. As she did every time she visited. Luckily for everyone there was no nurse she could bombard with questions and criticism. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked. 

“Itchy, like my guts are on fire,” 

To which she replied by singing the chorus to Girl on Fire. 

“Anyway,” she brought us back after our laughter. “I got you pizza today since I’m sure you’re tired of McDonald’s,”

“I don’t mind McDonald’s actually, anything is better than hospital food. Well actually, their chicken strips aren’t that bad,” 

She placed the box down on my lap. I lifted up the lid and was hit with the smell of the many herbs. I pat by my legs signaling she could sit down. She wiggled into the spot that the bar of the bed allowed. 

“What are we watching today?” 

“Uh…” I clicked on the TV “Vampire Diaries?,”

“That show is still going?

“Yeah, I don’t think it’ll ever end,” 

Somehow the show turned into us dancing around the cramped hospital room.

We spun like the ballerinas in the broken jewelry box I got from my mom. Arms flailing around. The air conditioner made a rattling noise and a half eaten pizza on the bed. The situation was probably extremely weird or unpleasant from any other perspective, but because it was her it was perfect. 

It was like the moment in rom coms where the camera zooms into the main characters dancing as the rest of the characters are put out of focus and they stare into each other’s eyes. I closed my eyes. 

When I opened them I saw Peter’s eyes above mine. 

His hands were immediately on my face making my look straight at him. 

“Are you okay?” He breathed out. 

I sat up feeling a pounding in my head and a pull in my lungs. I was met with the fact that I was definitely not on the ground. I was actually very far from the ground on some ride on the pier. My mouth was dry so it took me a minute to get the words out and when I did it hurt my throat.

“Yeah ’m okay jus’ tired,”

“Okay, well don’t go back to sleep because I think you have a concussion,” 

“You’re acting like I died or something, how long was I out dang,” I joked I always hated when things got too serious. 

“Uh probably...30 minutes? I don’t know I don’t have a watch,” He sniffed and that's when I realized he’d be crying. 

“Were you crying? I knew you cared about me,” I smiled “It was only a matter of time before you fell in love with me, I’m irresistible” 

He laughed weakly wiping his eyes “This isn’t funny,” 

I looked up at him and started uncontrollably giggling. Soon Peter was laughing too.

The moment was interrupted by a squad of police cars pulling up. I absolutely did not want to get down but my tired muscles betrayed me. I was extremely exhausted.  I literally could not move. I just had to go wherever Peter decided to take me. I honestly think I might have a few broken ribs. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before though. We stood off to the side watching as Vulture was stuffed into the back of one of the cars. 

“So Spiderman?” I smirked.

“Uh.. no?” He said as if he’s questioning himself. 

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone I’ve known for a while now,” I twisted my body to face him hissing as a sharp sting shot through my body “You're not very good at hiding it,”

“Hey!” He cried out “But seriously you can’t tell anyone,”

“I already said I wouldn’t, but if it makes you feel better I’ll pinky promise you, and everyone knows you can’t break a pinky promise,”

“Alright,” He sighed.

I tried to move closer again and was stopped by the pain in my sides. 

“Okay well, the offer still stands, you’re just gonna have to come over here,”

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

*jhs / hanahaki! au/ 🌙☆

*4.5k written 

Summary: Hoseok desperately wants to continue your guy’s friendship despite his girlfriend Soo-min hating you. What he doesn’t know though is that even just being friends will kill you.

A/N: After much consideration what started off as a one-shot then two-shot, shall now have three parts. Thank you everyone for your patience. I appreciate all the support given to me.

—————————————————————————————————

White orchids spill from your mouth as you heave into the toilet only to miss. A minute passes before you collapse onto the cold tile floor of your restroom. Your eyes stare blankly at the white mocking flowers splattered with blood. How fitting for the product of your disease to be such a rare exotic flower. Most people who suffered from Hanahaki threw up roses or lilies, but you got orchids. It is as life wants to personally point out that your first and only time falling in love with someone is doomed.

Forcing the remnants of blood and flowers back into your throat, you stood up on shaky legs. It was 9:10 am last time you checked, and time you spent throwing up has  fucked up your morning schedule. If you don’t change soon you’d undoubtedly be late to your morning class. “Come on (Y/N), you can do it. No stupid flowers are going to-”

“(Y/N)! Are you ready?” a familiar jovial voice calls out, causing only more flowers to fall from your lips. 

Quickly you slam the door to the restroom shut, locking it for extra measure. Your mind races trying to figure out why the object of your affection Jung Hoseok was here. Sure he used to walk you to class every morning, but only to make his ex-girlfriend Soo-min jealous. Soo-min hated you with a passion. Which is why when Hoseok and her broke up, he thought fake dating you would be the best way to get her back-and it worked. 

For three months you faked a relationship with Seoul University’s  ‘sunshine boy’. At first you felt awkward not being a people person and Hoseok was under the impression that you were some sort of monster. Eventually though you two passed those hurdles. Hoseok broke through your icy barriers, he became your first friend and through him you began to make other friends. Everything went perfectly except for the fact you began to fall for him. 

 It started slow, but you could feel the symptoms progressing each day. His love began thawing the ice around your heart. Then a seed  planted itself in it sprouting leaves that grew like ivy. Soon after flowers escaped your mouth the sure sign of an unrequited love. Your love for him was real. Probably more real than anything Soo-min could give him. However Hoseok felt oppositely hence the Hanaki disease. 

“(Y/N)? Are you in there? “ Hoseok knocks. “It’s kind of late to be getting ready. Did you oversleep?”

“Yeah.” You croak. “I just got up. What …what are you doing here, Hoseok? Didn’t you and Soo-min get back together?”

It’s a question you already know the answer to, but you can’t help not to ask. You need to know for sure, before you make any decisions regarding your Hanahaki, you need to Hoseok got his wish. “….we did, but that doesn’t we can’t still be friends-”

    His answer both hurts and relieves you at the same time.  

“It means exactly that, Sunshine boy. You can’t be friends with me. You can’t even talk to me unless you want Soo-min to hate you.” You say, hardening your heart.

   Hoseok isn’t the type to abandon a friend for girl. Not even if he’s only known them for a few months. Which is why you need to be the bad guy here…for both your sakes. “(Y/N)…” Hoseok says.

     Taking a deep breath you opened the door coming face to face with the cherry haired boy you loved. His dark eyes gaze at you sadness radiating through them. You have a feeling he knows how right you are, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. “We can’t. Being friends with you will only cause pain and trouble for us. Trust me.” you reaffirm.

    Hoseok shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Not for one second. You are my friend whether Soo-min or anyone else wants you to be or not.”

       A vine shoots out at his words coiling tightly around your rib. It takes everything within you not to double over in pain as it bruises muscle and bone. You are so far gone, any sort of relationship with Hoseok will kill you. “What about what I want? What if I don’t want to be friends anymore? What if I am tired of dealing with you and everyone else?’ You snap uncontrollably. “I don’t want to do it, Hoseok. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. Alright?! “

   Hoseok doubles back a crushed look on his face. “Alright. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone then.”

   “It is.”  You say looking away . You can’t handle the expression on his face. It hurts more than anything the Hanahaki does to you. A ray of sunshine like him should never be anything less than shining, especially not at the expense of an ice queen like you. 

    Later that night you receive a visit from Yoongi, Hoseok’s best friend/fraternity brother and the only other person who knows about your disease. The blonde haired boy arrives with an assortment of medicines, books, and pamphlets revolving around Hanahaki. It’s a sight that makes you both laugh and cry at the same time. “I heard you broke up with Hobi.” Yoongi says as he enters your dorm.

    You snort, shaking your head. “We weren’t really dating to begin with, so how can we break up?”

    “He looks awful. Almost as if you murdered his whole family in front of him.”  Yoongi mentions. “Seriously I’ve never seen him so upset. Not even when Soo-min broke up with him.”

      You look down ashamed. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but I-”

  “You had to.” Yoongi finishes knowingly. It’s only been a few days since you revealed to him your secret, but already Yoongi could see the damage done to you by this disease. You are paler than normal, skinnier too with dark circles under your eyes.  Your lips are chapped and your hair lost whatever shine used to be there. Overall you look like shit and Yoongi feels so fucking guilty for not noticing sooner. 

     “He’ll kill me.” You whisper sadly. “Just by being around me, this plant will grow and strangle me to death. It’s not fair-especially for Hoseok, who didn’t even ask for my affection.  So I have to stay away for both our sake.”

    It sucks, but you don’t doubt sunshine boy will bounce back. You’re merely another side note in his novel of a life after all. “Have you decided what to do yet?” Yoongi asks, looking over the pamphlets. “They have tablets that are supposed to reduce hanahaki growth, but they aren’t a permanent solution.”

     “There are only two solutions to hanahaki disease: death and surgery.” Tears well up at the thought. Neither option is preferably, especially since you know first hand the consequences behind them.

        “I hope you aren’t seriously thinking about death. I mean I get that you love Hobi, but it’s only a feeling. It’s not worth your life.” Yoongi says, his dark eyes pinning you with a look. “Besides it’s not like you two can’t be friends afterwards.” 

   Your lips curl into a bitter smile at his words. Memories of a vacant stare and careless question of ‘who are you?’ flash before your eyes. Yoongi’s naivety is not his fault. The horrors behind hanahaki surgery are such that even doctors belittle its effects. After all who wants to hear that the person they loved will be forever erased from their memories?

     And  like that night three days ago you confide in Yoongi about your horrible truth. “Hey Yoongi…have you seen someone go through hanahaki surgery?”

      Three hours later Yoongi stumbles home wanting to throw up. Your words play like a never ending loop in his head gripping tightly to his heart. ‘My parents suffered through Hanahaki disease when I was little. My mother died from it and my father forgot everything.”

  His knees buckle as he steps inside the frat house. For once it is silent. No one up playing video games in the living room, no loud music blasting, or groups of people conversing simply silence, something Yoongi can’t tell if he’s grateful for or not. On one hand he could use the distraction-the noise to blare out your tearful story, whereas on the other hand Yoongi’s glad no one is around to see him like this. 

    “Fuck.” he whispers to no one. “Fuck. Fuck..Fuuuuccck.”

He’s haunted by the calm expression on your face as you whispered. ‘Everyone thought my parents had a happy marriage. After all, my father loved my mother and she always smiled but I guess not all smiles equal happiness…my mother loved someone else. Who? No one knows. She never gave any indication of fancy someone other than my father. No one knew until I found her propped up against the toilet, roses sprouting from her lips like some macabre painting.“

  Seven. Seven fucking years old when you found your mother dead, yet you spoke as if she simply gotten a cold. If he didn’t know any better Yoongi would’ve thought you to be soulless. However the orchids clamouring out of your own body only proves  how much of a heart you did have. “Hey, man is everything alright?” Hoseok’s voice comes, as he steps into view.

    He’s dressed in his normal sleepwear, a white t-shirt and boxers cladded in cartoon birds. His hair is disheveled which normally meant he was sleeping, if not for the purple bruises decorating his neck. Anger flashes through Yoongi at the sight. Soo-min must be over, that fucking bitch. “Fine. Sorry for waking you up.” 

     “I wasn’t really sleeping.” Hoseok shrugs.

“I’ve noticed.” Yoongi says dryly. Logically the blonde knows it unfair to be mad at his friend. It isn’t Hobi’s fault you fell in love with him. Nor his fault that he loved Soo-min…but Yoongi can’t help himself-especially since Soo-min  replaced you. (You might’ve gotten over her bullying you, but Yoongi hadn’t.)

     “Ah yeah, Soo-min got a little wild. She’s never been this possessive before.” Hoseok laughed. “If making her jealous is all I got to do for sex like that, I’ll have to do it more often.”

   Yoongi didn’t even bother faking a smile. Hoseok already knew how much he and the rest of the guys hated Soo-min. “Whatever you say, just keep it down okay? I have a math test tomorrow.”

     Hoseok nods. “Of course. Sleep tight Yoongs! Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

 “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.” Yoongi grumbles, walking away. Hoseok’s laugh echoes down the hall as Yoongi heads to his room. It is not until he falls back onto his soft bed that Yoongi allows the final tidbit of your confession to play.

  ‘Forget. That’s what the surgery makes you do. It doesn’t only erase emotions of love, it erases all memories pertaining to it as well. When my father returned from his surgery the first thing he said to me was, ‘who’s kid is this?”

  Forget or die, two shitty options for someone who already had it shitty. Yoongi closes his eyes thumbing the pair of keys belonging to a certain roommate of his. Slowly he slips the key covered in mickey mouse prints off. There isn’t much he can do to help you make your decision,  but perhaps Yoongi can make life a little easier for you. 

      A week passes from that day and Hoseok can’t ignore the gnawing feeling that something is wrong. He knows your guy’s friendship has ended, but the cherry haired boy can’t keep his distance. Not when every cell in his body screams for him to fix this somehow. 

      After three months of fake dating you somehow became a permanent fixture in his life.  He misses teasing you about your bad breakfast choices, or forcing you to eat an actual meal instead of coffee for lunch. He misses the way you listened to him, barely muttering more than ‘uh huh, ok, yeah’; it always seemed like you weren’t listening until you surprised him with a question or comment. 

   Hoseok just misses you period.

Which is why he decided to give your friendship one more shot. Surely if he misses you this much you feel the same. Memories of your callous words from a week ago come to mind tormenting his fear, suddenly Hoseok feels like he can’t breathe. You said he annoyed you, that you were tired of him, but that was just because you were scared of losing him to Soo-min? Once you see how genuine he is, you two will go back to being friends. 

     "I don’t want your stupid apple. I’ve already eaten. ” Hoseok perks up at the sound of your voice. He’s been sitting on the steps of the language building for the past half hour waiting for you. Your name dances on the tip of his tongue. Eagerly he opens his mouth to call out to you but freezes  at the sight of a familiar blonde walking beside you. 

      "A gogurt and a cup of coffee doesn’t count as lunch, dumb ass. Now eat the apple, it’ll help you from getting sick. “ Yoongi says, shoving the red fruit into your hands.  

     Something within Hoseok twists, he finds himself nearly doubling over in pain. A dark ember burns in his stomach, suddenly Hoseok wants nothing more than to punch Yoongi. "She hates apples. ” Hoseok can’t help but inform. “It’s her least favorite fruit. ”

   Both you and Yoongi jerk surprised by his presence. As if on instinct Yoongi steps forward blocking your view from him,  it causes Hoseok’s blood to boil more. “Hey Hobi, waiting for Soo-min?” Yoongi asks nonchalantly. 

     Hoseok bit his cheek suddenly remembering Soo-min has a class right before yours. The two of you share the same major meaning your schedules often coincided. He walked you to class everyday just to show off your “relationship." 

       "Something like that." 

    "Cool. See you at home I guess.” Yoongi nods, pulling you with him towards the door. You barely even glance up at Hoseok as you’re led away. 

    Again something twists violently in the pit of his stomach and the question, 'are you guys together,’ slips through his teeth before Hoseok can stop. The two of you freeze, Yoongi’s fingers tightening around your wrist. Suddenly Hoseok doesn’t want to know the answer.

     "Something like that. “ Yoongi replies, dragging you into the building. 

    Three weeks go by since your 'break up’ with Hobi, and ironically, you find yourself in another fake relationship this time with Yoongi. Unlike your previous pseudo-relationship this one contains nothing more platonic love. There are no fake dates or pet names. Yoongi doesn’t treat you like some girl he’s in love with. Instead he forces broth and anti-growth pills down your throat only to hold your hair back when white petals flow back up from it. He shields you from Hoseok,  Soo-min and the judgemental glances of the world, protecting you from harm. No, Min Yoongi is a god send, but you aren’t in love with him. 

    Sometimes you wish you were though. Loving Yoongi sounds easier than loving Hoseok, but that could simply be wishful thinking. After all, Yoongi and Hoseok are two different elements. Hoseok is the warm sun melting away all your defenses, while Yooongi is a winter’s breeze offering relief from the sun’s rays while fortifying your protection. "So the date has been set. A week from now I’ll have the surgery and this will all be over. ” you announce, ignoring the painful ache in your chest 

    The idea of forgetting Hoseok scares you. You don’t want to forget him or the way he’s made you feel. As selfish as it sounds Hoseok is the first person to show you affection in years. Your family basically ostracized you after they discovered your father’s amnesia. While he could learn to love you again the possibility of him remembering your mother ran too high. So instead you lived as his niece with an aunt and uncle who despised you, because you looked like your mother. 

     Yoongi nods, glancing over at the calendar. He can’t help but frown at the date circled in red. “I know this is the only viable solution, but I feel like I should ask you if this is what you really want?”

   "No, but I don’t want to die either.“ You say softly. "As much as I want to hold onto these feelings of love, they don’t really belong to me, you know? Hoseok loves Soo-min. They’re her feelings not mine. ”

    Yoongi’s frowns. “Soo-min only loves herself. You know it,  I know it, and deep down Hobi does too.”

  "Maybe but it doesn’t change a thing.“ You murmur, eyeing the date. Your grip tightens around the mug you hold.  You don’t want to admit but you’re scared; scared of waking up the exact person you were before Hoseok: cold, intruding and alone. 

  Yoongi shoots a knowing glance. "Something else bugs you, doesn’t it? ”

   You take a sip of your tea. “ Don’t worry. It’s stupid stuff. " 

    It’s three days before your surgery that you see Hoseok for the first time in a month. Logically you know you should avoid him even if the appointment is less than forty-eight hours away. However you find yourself staying at the coffee shop, eyes unlocking from the cherry haired boy.  'Just one more glance.’ You assure yourself. 'Something to carry with me onto the operating table that’s all I want. ’

     But it’s more than one glance it’s several long stares, watching as the boy talks animatedly amongst his friends. He looks so happy right now practically glows like the sun. The sight is so beautiful it causes your heart to bear faster. This is what you wanted to see. Hoseok happy and carefree even if it is without you. 

   You smile, ignoring the painful pulse your heart gives when the Hanahaki’s vine squeezes around it. This is how things are meant to be. Hoseok deserves a life filled with equally bright people. He deserves happiness in every form. You aren’t.

     A content sigh escapes you. You swore to Yoongi, you accepted the surgery with no regrets, but that was all a lie. Seeing Hoseok like this though, so free and unaffected by your absence, you can finally let go of the little doubt holding you back. 

    "Order for (Y/N)!” The barista calls out sliding your drink across the counter. 

  You cringe at how loud they are; internally hoping that Hoseok hadn’t heard your name.  Seeing him from afar is dangerous enough, if you actually interacted with him…  You push the thought out of your head, quickly exiting the cafe, completely unaware of the eyes following you. 

   "You okay man? You’ve been staring at the barista an awful lot. “ 

    Hoseok blinks, tearing his gaze away from where you stood. The moment you walked into the cafe Hoseok could only focus on  you. It is like everything else disappeared except for you.  "Yeah I’m fine. " 

"You sure? Because if you like the dude that much, I can get you his number. ” Another, Jo Kwon teases. “Though I think Soo-min would kill both of us- wait! Isn’t that (Y/N) up there? Didn’t you two used to date before you and Soo-min got back together?”

     Hoseok nods barely listening. His focus once again on you, this time watching you leave. Neither Dino or Jo Kwon knew about the dumb deal or how sweet Seoul University’s Ice Queen really was.  While they are good friends, they were nowhere near close enough for Hoseok to feel comfortable sharing his secret. 

  "Gotta say you must’ve been really off your rocker, Hoseok. Dating such a scary girl. “ Dino snorts. 

   "Seriously, I heard (Y/N) got arrested for murdering her parents, but since she was a kid no one believed she did it.” Jo Kwon says. “You know someone should warn Yoongi-hyungnim about her. They’re together now aren’t they?”

    "Something like that…" Hoseok mutters. His chest burns at the mention of Yoongi and you.  While you refuse to even look his way, you have no qualms hanging on Yoongi’s every word and move. It is like Yoongi’s the sun and you’re the earth orbiting around him- it pisses Hoseok to no end and he can’t explain why. 

   "Maybe he just figured she’s an easy lay. I mean a girl like her is probably desperate for attention. She’s probably spreading her legs for anyone who looks at her-“ Hoseok’s fist hits Dino’s face before either one can process what is happening.

  The younger boy falls to the ground with a loud crash, causing everyone to stare at them. "What the fuck man!? You just hit me. ” Dino sputters wide eyed. 

    "And I’ll do it again if I ever hear either of you talk about (Y/N) like that again.“  Hoseok threatens. The anger within him is uncontrollable. He can’t explain it. Especially when it is not only Dino and Jo Kwon who pisses him off, but Yoongi too. Just the mere sight of the blonde sickened him nowadays. 

   "You’re crazy man. She’s a freak and she made you one too!” Jo Kwon says.

  Luckily, all it takes is a warning look to have them scrambling out of the coffee shop. “Assholes.” Hoseok mutters, ignoring the still plentiful stares at him. He reaches for his coffee only to pause when his stomach turns suddenly. Annoyed Hoseok pushes the cup away. He must be getting sick.

   Word of the fight spreads across the campus like wildfire. Fury does not explain the anger Soo-min feels when she hears about her boyfriend’s outburst. In all the years she dated Hoseok never once did he get offended for her sake. Boys literally listed off her body count at parties and Hoseok merely shrugged asking Soo-min. 'why does it matter when everyone knows you’re mine?“

    Mine. The claim used to send shivers down Soo-min’s spine. Yes, she was his. Just like how she owned him. They were meant to be no matter how many times they broke up. It didn’t matter if Soo-min decided to date around a little, because Hoseok would wait for her.  

   At least so she thought until one day Hoseok ended up on the arm of her biggest enemy. Originally Soo-min assumed he simply wanted her jealous- a clever ploy really, after all wherever she went you two appeared. Three weeks later though, you started wearing Hoseok’s hoodies. After that Beta-Tau-Sigma invited you to their house, a privilege which took Soo-min months to achieve, but the real straw to the camel’s back happened when Hoseok threatened her. 

   The cherry haired boy who cared little about gossip finally spoke out against it and not for her sake.  In that moment Soo-min realized the relationship between Hoseok and you ran deeper than she assumed. For the first time in her life,  Soo-min felt threatened in Hoseok’s and her relationship. So she ended it.

   With a bat of the eyelashes and the purse of her lips, Soo-min took back what was hers. Once again Hoseok and her were together while you cried your ugly heart out. Everything went back to normal. Except it didn’t. 

     Hoseok refused to leave you alone. He was determined to have some sort of relationship with you, despite now being with her. Not even you dating his own best friend stopped Hoseok’s unsettling obsession with you. 

   "I don’t expect you to understand, but (Y/N) is someone special to me. I can’t just let her go. ” he told her one night. 

  He was right. Soo-min didn’t understand. Nor did she want to. What Soo-min wants is you gone.  “(Y/N) (L/N), you fucking slut! Stay away from my boyfriend!” She hollers, charging after you. 

    You stare at her confused. The sight spurs her rage more so. How dare you act clueless! As if you don’t know what you are doing? She pushes past the throng of students cornering you against a tree. It’s just her no posse unlike last time. Not that Soo-min needs one to kick your ass.

   Since elementary school, she has worked to put you in your place. The only difference now is the strange attachment Min Yoongi has towards you. Last time he stopped her from teaching you a well deserved lesson. Today however he won’t be able to save you.  “I’m not in the mood Soo-min. ” you mutter, walking around her. 

    She grabs onto your hair yanking it. A small gasp escapes you as you tumble onto the ground. “Well I am. So you are going to listen to me and listen real good you got it?”

       "Fucking psycho. “ you spit.

   Her hands twist, tightening the pull on your hair. You reach up trying to pull away, but Soo-min’s stronger.  "Me? Psycho? No no you’re the heartless ice queen here. You might’ve tricked Hoseok and everyone else into thinking you’re some innocent little girl, but you and I know the truth. You are unlovable.”

     You let out a loud laugh surprising her. “Again with that hanahaki shit? You and our family have been holding that over my head for fifteen years.  My father’s disease wasn’t my fault. Nor was it my mother’s. ”

  Taking Soo-min off guard, your right leg sweeps back, knocking her off balance. She loses grip on your hair allowing you to push back. You stand towering over her. “Love is an uncontrollable force. You can’t choose who you love. Just like you can’t choose who loves you back.”

    Soo-min snorts. “What do you know about love? Your mother chose to love over her daughter, and your father chose life over you too. Meanwhile Hoseok only used you to get me back. He never loved you and he never will-”

    A small cough breaks through her rant. One tiny hiccup like cough that normally would go overlooked if not for a single orchid petal escaping your lips. She freezes eyes locked on the white petal. 

     "You…“  She hardly managed to say the word when you turn tails running. 

     Her body moves on its own chasing after you. She doesn’t want to admit it. Doesn’t want to acknowledge it but Soo-min’s scared. As much as she hates you, you are still her cousin. It doesn’t take long for her to catch up to you. Out of the two of you, she’s always been the more athletic one. Moreover thanks to the disease, you hardly make it  a few feet before heaving a basket of flowers up. 

    Soo-min stares at the blood soaked plants in horror. Full stems. You are throwing up whole plants. "You are dying. ”

     The words come out more blatantly then she intends, but you snort nonetheless. “Yeah, I am. Don’t celebrate yet though. I’m getting the surgery.”

       "You. You are in love.“ She continues speechless. 'But how? I mean who? Is it Hoseok?”

    "Yoongi.“ You correct quickly. "I’m in love with Yoongi. He ah he doesn’t love me though. He loves someone else so we broke up.”

   "Oh.“ Her throat tightens around the word. For the first time ever Soo-min does not know how to react. Deep inside she wants to reach out, comfort you, scream at Min Yoongi until she’s blue however she can’t. Not only does Soo-min know you won’t accept it, but there’s still something within that holds onto her parents’ prejudice 

     "Does he know?” Soo-min asks. 

You shake your head. “No. Nor does he need to. In two days this will all be a forgotten memory.” 

     Soo-min frowns. Her heart squeezes pain at the thought. It’s funny she’s always wanted to see you suffer, but not like this. Despite being little during your parents’ illness Soo-min remembers clearly everything that happened. From the hole your mother cut through you and your father’s heart to her uncle’s empty expression after the surgery. More than anything she remembers her warm fun loving cousin falling into herself. The person who was once her best friend suddenly distanced herself from everyone including Soo-min.

    It is a memory that stirs up something within Soo-min, she hasn’t felt in a long time…: guilt.

[jawritter]

Promised

Chapter 9

**Series Warnings!! ** ABO dynamics! Smut, unprotected smut, knotting, claiming, mating, heat, rut, language, overly protective Jensen, age gap! 19-year-old reader, 41-year-old Jensen, virgin reader, loss of virginity, sort of an arranged marriage, hint at possible mob type settings.

Story Description:

In a world where your presentation can be a blessing or a curse, a newly presented Omega will come face to face with the harsh reality of Alphas, Omegas, and pack alliances that are expected to be upheld with the union of your two families…

A/N: Pt.9!!! Please don’t copy my stuff! Feedback is welcomed! If you want to be added to the series tag list, or just my tag list in general let me know! Cross-posted on Wattpad! Hope you enjoy it!! This is my first ABO series so be nice lmao!

Word Count: 2133

Pairing Jensen x Alan Ackles, Jensen X Your Father, Jensen X Uncle David, Jensen x Clif, Jensen x Josh, Jensen x other OFC Characters Jensen x you (Eventually)

Missed it so far? Catch up!

*********Promised Series Masterlist!!!********

Jensen’s POV:

Jensen paced around his father’s office where his father, sister, brother, Clif, and a few other high ups in the Ackles pack tried to watch the security cameras to look for any sign of you coming out of the women’s bathroom. There was an outside entrance to the bathroom, and they figured that’s where the person or person’s had taken you when they left the bathroom with you. If you ever made it there. 

Jensen couldn’t stop the growls falling from his lips as he eyed the security tapes. David Y/L/N was tied to a chair across from the large oak desk that they were all standing behind. 

“Alan, I swear I don’t know what’s going on! If I knew where she was I’d tell you! I have no part in this you know that!!”

“I don’t know anything at this point, David, either way, this is a good lesson for you. This happened to my son’s Omega because of a male in your pack. So you need to learn there for that you are responsible as a pack leader for actions like these,” Alan stated calmly, not looking up from the computer screens. 

One glare from Jensen and David shut up really quickly. 

“There!!” Clif yelled, making everyone in the room jump. 

There, on the video, was a man carrying you thrown over his shoulder toward a black SUV. Throwing you inside, before pulling out of the parking lot in a hurry.  

Jensen wanted to cry, scream, and throw shit all at the same time. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he wanted to do something. 

“I recognize him. That’s one of Y/D/N bodyguards. Looks like Y/N’s dad was to damn chicken to come to do the dirty work himself. So he sent his bodyguard to do it for him.” Clif said. Typing away on his computer. 

“I can pull up the traffic camera footage and see which direction he went in, me and my men will start the hunt from there. We’re gonna find her Jensen.” Clif said, he’d been Jensen’s friend for a long time now, and he could see Jensen was just about to snap.

“If her dad wasn’t here himself, then where is he?” Jensen snapped, crossing the floor in only three strides of his long legs, and hoving over David with malice written across his face. 

“Hom,e last I check,” David said, too fearful of what the Ackles was going to do to him at this point to withhold any information he might know. Y/D/N got himself into this, he can get himself out of it. Though by the look on the Alpha’s face standing directly in front of him he didn’t see his brother getting out of this alive. 

Jensen reached up and hit David hard enough to knock him out. He had, had just about enough of looking at his face, and didn’t want him to hear what he was about to say next. 

“I’m going to her dad’s, and one way or another he's going to tell me where he’s keeping my Omega, and why.” Jensen snatched up his jacket and went to go out of the door.

“Stay here son, we will have him fetched. I’ve already sent a detail to have him removed from the home, remember there are innocent people in there with him. We don’t want to cause them any harm. They have no part in this. Let’s just deal with the source.”

Alan’s voice was calm, but his eyes held the same rage as his sons. He hated to see his son in this much distress. He always had a soft spot for Jensen, and everyone in the family knew it. Now, looking at him this desperate, it made his blood boil. 

“What if we don’t get to her in time Dad? We’re wasting time!” Jensen yelled, frustration getting harder and harder to control.

“He’s been collected. He should be here within five minutes.” A young Alpha Jensen didn’t recognize stood just inside his father’s office door and announced. Alan thanked the young man, and he excused himself quickly.

“Her father is on his way here. We will get to the bottom of this son. She’s going to be just fine.”

Just as Jensen was about to argue the point, Josh cleared his throat from across the room. Making all heads turn toward him.

“Jensen, your Omega was wearing a mating collar wasn’t she?” he asked, approaching his brother cautiously. 

“Yes,” Jensen said, obviously not following his brother’s train of thought. 

“Where did you purchase it?” 

Jensen stood there thinking for a second getting annoyed with the twenty questions when his Omega was out there and in danger. 

“From the family jeweler here in Dallas. Same place you all got your Omega’s there’s.”

A smile broke out over his brother's face. 

“Jensen, the reason we have those collars made at that particular place is because they put tracking devices inside the collars. If we turn on her GPS locator on her collar we can find her down to the street! It will just take about 30 minutes to get it all up and running.” 

Jensen stood there stock-still in the middle of the floor. 

“What if they took it off of her? Threw it somewhere random on the way.” 

The room was so still you could hear a pin drop. All eyes on Josh and Jensen. 

“They can’t. You are the one that put it on her. It would take your fingerprints to release the clasp. There’s no way they could get it off of her.”

Just as Jensen was about to open his mouth and tell them ‘well what the fuck are you waiting for’ the door opened. The young Alpha poking his head just inside. 

“Excuse me, sir. Y/D/N is here. He’s locked down in the basement.” 

Alan turned to Jensen. 

“Go, get what you can out of her father. Do whatever you have to do. I’ll take care of the rest…” 

A look of understanding crossing between father and son that was enough to make a cold shiver run down everyone in the room’s spine.  “We will track down your Omega, and then come and retrieve you when we have her location.” 

Jensen nodded and followed the young Alpha to the door of the basement. Where he opened it for him and stood aside. Letting Jensen descent the stairs on his own. 

Jensen was livid. His eyes flashing red in intervals as he descended the stairs. Taking off his white dress shirt at the end of the stairs, and hanging it there. leaving him just in his undershirt and slacks.  He could hear y/n father cursing at him, and everyone else in the house as he rounded the corner. Seeing the man tied to the chair.

“Hello Y/D/N…” Jensen drew out. Y/N's father stopped yelling immediately.

Staring down Jensen like if he could kill him with his bare hands he would. 

“You know Jensen all this is your fault! If you would have just taken your rightful place in your pack you would still have your Omega right now, but since I can’t have what I want, you can’t have what you want. Simples as that.” The smile that spread across his face made Jensen’s vision go red, and his stomach churns all at the same time.

“You will tell me what you did with y/n.” He said, Leaning over the man that was tied to the chair.

“Oh really I am, and what makes you think I would do a thing like that?” He mouthed back. 

Jensen didn’t have time to think before his first made contact with the man’s mouth. Blood running down his now busted lip. 

“Let’s try that again.. Where is my Omega?” 

This time the man said nothing. Just sat there staring at Jensen, a sinister smirk spread across his face.

“You know, before I came here tonight with Y/n I promised her something…. I promised her I would protect her. You made me break that promise.. I don't appreciate that. I’ll be spending the rest of my life making it up to her….” 

Jensen’s vision was starting to go completely red, he was losing what little bit of control he had left. His temper was getting harder and harder to control, and he knew if he kept up this little game he was going to lose it.

“Mr. Ackles! We found her! They’re holding her in an abandoned warehouse down by the lake.” 

The young Alpha happily reported to his elder in the pack. Jensen nodded his head.

“Give me two minutes... “ he said, his eyes never left Y/N’s father, and he knew by the look on his face that it was y/n’s true location. 

“You know Y/D/N, I made Y/n another promise. This one I intend to keep. What to know that promise was?” 

Jensen leaned over the chair. Holding either side of the man’s shoulders.

“What’s that?” he tried to sound cocky, but it was laced in fear. 

“I told her if you tried anything I’d rip your throat out….. With my teeth…”

Jensen’s vision went red, All he saw was red… 

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

Less than an hour later Jensen’s SUV in the lead, the convoy pulled up to the old warehouse where y/n’s GPS was showing her location.

Jensen jumped out of the SUV before the car even fully came to a stop. Running into the building. Calling for his Omega, praying with everything in him that he wasn’t too late… 

He went from room to room. Searching, and so far nothing, no guards, no nothing. Fear gripped him deep in his gut. What if they had it wrong? What if she wasn’t here?

Then just when panic pulled at the corner of his subconscious, he did what she should have done instead of running around like an idiot. Stopping the stilling himself. Taking a deep breath, at first nothing. His heart sank in his chest, but he tried again. Taking an even deeper breath, walking a little deeper into the warehouse. 

That’s when he caught it. Her scent, he would know it if he was clinically dead…. 

Running toward the upstairs office looking room he began to pound on the door. He could smell her stronger now, he knew she was in there. She just had to be. 

Finally, with one kick of his foot the door caved, and swung open hitting the wall hard. 

At first, he didn’t see her, then as his eyes adjusted to the darkroom walking around the desk following his sense he found her. Laying on the cold hard ground of the warehouse office floor.

Falling to his knees he didn’t know much after that. He remembers screaming for his father. He remembered the paramedics rushing into the warehouse where he was sitting on the floor with her cold body pressed to his as tight as he could hold her.

He remembered his father and his brother having to hold him back while the paramedics looked her over. 

He remembered all of this, but it was like walking through a clouded blur. 

Finally, a young Omega girl dressed in a paramedics outfit came to stand in front of him and addressed him directly. Jensen shook himself hard enough to pull himself out of his fog. Even though it was hard.

“Mr. Ackles, your Omega is going to be just fine. She’s just sedated. We can’t even find an injury on her. We want to take her to the hospital of your choosing so she can be monitored while she sleeps off the sedative, and maybe they can give her something to counteract it.” 

He stood there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Relief flooded his system as he processed the news that his Omega was going to be okay.

“Mr. Ackles? Do you want us to transport her to Dallas…”

“NO!” Jensen snapping back to himself jumped up to his feet. Even though the threat had been handled. He didn’t want to stay in Dallas. He said he was going to take her home, and that’s what he intended to do.

“Take her to Austin State Hospital.” Jensen said. Walking over to the medical gurney that they had loaded y/n onto. His heart clenching in his chest at the sight before him. He wanted more than anything to crawl into the gurney with her and hold her more than anything else in the world. 

“Mr. Ackles… That’s a long drive from here…” The young girl said. Afraid to confront the Alpha who was obviously distress about his Omega and her current state. 

“Don’t worry about it. We will just call in a med flight. With a chopper, we can have them both there within the hour.” The older paramedic said. Walking out of the warehouse ahead of the gurney and Jensen who was holding as tightly to Y/n’s hand as he could. 

“We’re going home, sweetheart. We’re going home…”

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons​ @imabitch4jensen​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​

Promised Series Masterlist:

@spnfamily-j2​ 

@stoneyggirl​ 

@onethirstyunicorn​

@bloo-moon-freak​

@musiclovinchic93​

@perpetualabsurdity​

@theoneandonlymelol​

@xhannahbananax03​

@xcastielbabyangelface​

@leahnicole1219​

[romioneficfest]

The Moment I knew

Title: The Moment I Knew

Prompt: Day 9 - Their Wedding Day

Tumblr name: 

Rating: K+

Brief summary: At he and Hermione’s wedding, before they take to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife, Ron delivers his groom’s speech and talks about the moment he knew Hermione was the one.

Tags: brief mention of sleeping together and of trauma; doesn’t go beyond a mention

“If I could have your attention, please! I’m tired of clinking this fork against this wineglass like some Muggle —no offense to my in-laws, of course—, and if I try to charm them it’ll break and that won’t be good for anyone… That’s better.

"We’re here today not so you can all take advantage of the complimentary alcohol (I’m looking at you, Hagrid, I know that’s your third tankard), but to celebrate the fact that Hermione has officially agreed to only sleep with me forever —ouch, you don’t have to pinch me, sorry to my in-laws again— but no, really, it’s because this beautiful, brilliant witch has somehow agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.

"Marriage is new. It’s scary, but in the way good things should be. And like all things new, a lot of questions come with it. Like how do we choose whose side of the bed is whose? How do you raise a kid without screwing them up too badly? And how on earth do I learn how to sort a sock drawer? But not all questions are about the future. And from those about the past, a single question stands out, the one I think over nightly as I go to sleep next to Hermione: when did I know she was the one?

"I change the answer regularly: living with Hermione Granger means she gives me a new reason to fall for her every day, and not an instant goes by that I don’t think 'she’s the one' all over again. I’ve known her since we were eleven, after all, and I’ve loved her pretty much the whole time. So if you asked me to pick out just one instant when I knew, when I was sure— well, I’d be hard-pressed to find it.

"I could say it was just yesterday as I woke up, when my eyes opened just enough for me to see her already sitting up in bed, frowning down at her book and scribbling something onto it. 7:30 a.m, and the woman wasn’t just reading, she was annotating! To see her entranced by her reading just never gets old— which is a good thing, because she’s not ditching the books anytime soon.

"I could say it was a few months ago, when she got me surprise tickets to a Cannons game, and then she spent the game telling me all these facts, because she’d read a book to be able to understand my favorite team. I didn’t even mind— I complain about her lectures, but I learn more from them than I ever did at school.

"I could say it was a couple years ago, when she proposed we move in together because ‘how are you going to manage on your own'— and it’s true, I don’t think I could’ve, because she keeps me sane and grounded. I once told Harry that we wouldn’t last two days without her, and though I think he needs her less now, it certainly holds true for me.

"I could say it was the first time I met her parents. I was so nervous they’d think I wasn’t good enough for their daughter, and she sat me down and held my shoulders until I breathed normally and she told me they’d love me: not just because I was the man their daughter loved, but because I was Ron. She told me I was good, she told me I was enough, she told me she was lucky to have me. And besides, if they didn’t like me, it didn’t matter, because she loved me more than anyone else could. Let me tell you, when we walked in, I wasn’t shaking anymore, and that’s more magical than any advanced spell she’s conjured, which (if you know Hermione) is no small thing.

"I could say it’s been every time I’ve woken up with a start from a nightmare, thinking I’m still there, feeling the cold weight of the locket against my chest, and she’s been right there to hold me, to warm me up again and let me cry it out on her shoulder, to lull me back to sleep in the comfort of her arms and her kisses. And every time it happens, I’m overwhelmed by how lucky I am to have her.

"I could say it was the first kiss we shared, and, sure, basilisk fangs on the floor don’t make for a very romantic setting, but when I told Harry it was 'now or never’, I wanted that 'now’ to last an eternity. I don’t need to tell all of you how hard and terrifying fighting a war is— and I don’t know if I could’ve done it without that kiss.

"I could say it was at Malfoy Manor, when all that existed in my head was her screaming, and how much I wanted it to stop. I knew nothing would be the same if we didn’t get out of there together, and I wanted more than anything to storm up and protect her, to save her— I promised myself I would. Now I can fulfill that promise forever.

"I could say it was that time she almost killed me with her bare hands after I came back to the forest, and she didn’t talk to me for a few days. I was back with my best friends, I’d destroyed a Horcrux; I should have been exhilarated, but nothing would’ve been worth it if she didn’t give me one of her lovely smiles again.

"I could say it was when we shared a dance at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I swept her up partly to get her away from Viktor —who’s out here somewhere, hi Viktor—, but as she was steering me across the dance floor and I was holding her hand in one of mine and her waist in the other, it felt like that was where I was meant to be.

"I could say it was when she helped me clean up an ink spill over my homework back in sixth year. Y'know, I actually told her I loved her then— really, I said, "I love you, Hermione,” and she had the audacity to say I shouldn’t let Lavender hear that, as if I hadn’t seen her blush. To this day, I’m not sure she knows I meant it. Well, now I know she does.

“I could also say it was when I almost died from that poisoned mead, and she kept me company at the infirmary every day. She read me books too advanced for me to understand, or sat there and did her homework by me. I’m glad I could hear all the things she told me during those days. That’s the thing about Hermione— she’s always got something fascinating to say.

"I could say it was when she made that Edgecombe girl’s face erupt in boils— it was brilliant, and it showed me a different side of her. A wilder, fiercer side, perhaps, but a new side for me to love. Besides, in the moral scheme of things, it sorta knocked her down a notch, which to someone like me was splendid news.

"I could say it was the summer before fifth year, when we spent so much time alone at Grimmauld Place, laughing in a bedroom and avoiding my mum’s cleaning craze. I got to be with just her for weeks on end, and it showed me just how much I liked being alone together.

"But I think there’s one moment that deserves its place as the moment I knew. It was the Yule Ball, fourth year, and I was wearing rather atrocious dress robes, when Hermione came down the stairs, looking like a dream in blue. She was radiant, and she flashed me an irresistible grin over her shoulder as she took Krum’s hand and let him lead her to the floor. There are plenty of reasons to be jealous of a world-class Seeker, but at that moment, his Quidditch skills weren’t what I envied. That was when I knew she was the only girl I’d ever see as I saw her that night, even if I had to spend my whole life chasing after her.

"But tonight, the chase is over. Tonight, it’s my turn: she’s dressed in white now, not in blue, but she still looks like heaven, and it’s my hand she’s letting guide her to the dance floor now, for our first dance as husband and wife. But before that, I want to tell her how much I love her, and how —at long last, though I’ve never had a doubt— I’m the happiest man in the world, because I’m marrying the only girl there’s ever been for me. And how I hope, in her life —our life—, I can make her even half as happy as she’s made me since the first day she barged into my train compartment and demanded to know my name.”

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 1 || C.H

A//N: I’m in two minds about holding back posting parts because I’m actually in the middle of working on chapter 9 currently, so I’m debating on waiting until I maybe get feedback to see if this is going anywhere, but at the same time I want to get it out as soon as I can so I can be satisfied that I’ve published a whole piece of work by me. 

Chapters are going to get a little bit chunky so I hope that’s okay, I got carried away at certain points as you’ll find out as time goes on. 

Hope you guys enjoy this even just a little bit.

Love you all!

btw: we meet Calum in this part so... we getting somewhere now.

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue

The loud screech of a horn invaded Eloise’s apartment, the barbaric noise ripping her from her peaceful slumber. It was her own fault for sleeping with the window open, every noise travelling into her bedroom from the streets. Her hand reached for her duvet, groaning softly as she hauled it up towards her head, wrapping herself in its warmth as she hid herself from the empty apartment that she called home.

Today of all days she had prayed for a lie in, for those few extra hours of bliss before she would have to get up and face the world. She didn’t sleep for long anyway but even just an hour or two extra would have been a treat for her, especially today. It would have been the best birthday gift anyone could have given her.

She released a single arm from the warmth of her duvet, grasping her mobile phone from her bedside table, removing the charging cable before tossing it to the floor and turning over so she faced the door of her bedroom. She unlocked her phone, being greeted with a few notifications from varied apps and a few text messages. Eloise couldn’t help but smile fondly at the happy birthday text from Scott, noting that it had been sent just moments after midnight. Obviously, he had to be the first one. She responded a quick ‘thank you’ text before opening her varied social media accounts, scrolling through the fake ‘happy birthday’ posts from people she no longer spoke to. She had contemplated deleting some of these apps but argued against it, guiltily enjoying watching drama unfold online in the comfort of her own home.

The sound of the phone ringing was too loud for Eloise first thing in the morning, sighing as she witnessed the name flash across the screen as his picture lit up with his big cheesy smile she hated to admit made her have one of the same emotion.

“What do you wan- “

“Happy birthday to my best friend! Oh, happy birthday to the one and only, Eloise Gray!” A loud voice sang through the phone, “Oh, she is twenty-one years old and is no longer underage today!”

“Are you done?” She laughed through the line.

“Not quite,” He clarified, clearing his throat before continuing with his made-up birthday song, “Miss Eloise Gray is an adult, she is legal! She can become black out with the best of them! She doesn’t need a fake ID anymore! She is fully legal to party!”

He dragged out that final note, his voice fading out to the sound of a scratched record, erupting a laugh from Eloise. He was always so over the top when it came to her birthday. No one could blame him. He always wanted to make it a day for her to cherish, a day full of fun memories that she could recall and laugh at. He put everything into making sure she had a fun birthday, throwing her a party every year with their friends, strictly confining the invitation list to those outside of the gang to allow Eloise to have a night off, a night where it was just her, Scott, and a bunch of their normal friends.

“Now I’m done,” He cleared his throat with a cough, the sound of his boots beneath him signalling that he was walking somewhere.

“Thank you,” She smiled helplessly, unable to get rid of the appreciative tone in her voice, “It’s a new one to add to the collection of birthday songs.”

“The best yet.”

“That’s debatable, Scott.”

She giggled at his fake offended gasp, smiling as she sat up in her bed, her back against the headboard as she listened into the background of his call. “Where are you? It sounds busy.” She stuck her leg out of the confinements of her duvet, feeling the cold fresh New York air constrict around her warm skin.

“On my way to get you,” He replied casually, “It’s your birthday, El, we have to celebrate like never before. And by that, I mean we need to go all out and have a full-blown party,”

“Isn’t that what we do every year?” She countered.

“Well, yes, but this time it’s going to be even better, you wanna know why?” He teased.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway,” She smirked, hearing his frustrated groan through the line before hearing a creak of a door that echoed on the other end the phone.

“Can’t you just play along for once in your miserable life?” He sighed loudly, the sound of his feet being heard through the line getting louder, it sounded like he was walking up some stairs, the footsteps echoing as if he was in a stairwell.

“No because that’s no fun for me,” She laughed lightly, “But anyway, enlighten me on how this year is gonna be better?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re twenty-one, we can go out into bars and clubs now without having to worry if you’re gonna get caught out with a fake ID,” He spoke with an obvious tone, speaking to Eloise as if she was stupid, “Which means we need to go out tonight and make sure that we remember absolutely nothing by tomorrow morning, so all that we can remember is what we can piece together by the numerous photographs and embarrassing videos that we will use to torment each other for the foreseeable future.”

“Are you still mad about that video of you dancing to Beyoncé that went slightly viral?” Eloise queried with a knowing tone, unable to stop the smirk spreading across her face at the memory of her birthday two years ago.

They had thrown a house party for her birthday, their friends all piling into her apartment as they spent hours together drinking, singing karaoke, and playing a hopeless amount of drunk board and card games. It was definitely a highlight of her birthday, one that she didn’t ever forget; mainly resulting in many embarrassing videos that never failed to make them smile over the years.

“Only slightly,” He said, a door slamming behind his words as he continued to move.

“You really need to get over that, it was two years ago, and it was funny,” Eloise couldn’t hold back her laugh, “You should lighten up, Scott.”

“And you should get dressed.”

Eloise looked up at the sudden voice that spoke both through her phone but also from the body that stood in her bedroom. She hadn’t even heard her door open and close when Scott entered, finding him stood in front of her as he held the phone by his ear still. Eloise lowered the phone, hanging up the call as she kept her eyes focused on the blonde boy who stood present, “What on earth are you doing here? What happened to ringing a doorbell or even better: telling me that you’re outside?”

“Eh that’s no fun,” He shrugged, smirking as he wandered over to Eloise’s wardrobe before opening it and searching through her clothes, “Also, a quick heads up that you need to look good tonight. By ‘good’ I mean the kind where even I would look at you and go ‘holy shit I want to take her home with me’.”

“You mean you don’t think that anyway?” She teased, winking at his tall stature as he glanced over his shoulder to where she sat on her bed.

“Dear god no,” He scrunched up his face, “I can’t think of anything worse; it would be like having sex with my sister.”

Eloise couldn’t hold back the snort that left her at his remark. He wasn’t wrong. The relationship the two of them shared was very much one of a brother/sister rather than friends. They hid nothing from one another and loved each other as if they really were siblings. He was the big brother that Eloise never had.

“What would you class as ‘good’ then?” She asked, rolling her eyes as she lifted herself out of her bed, moving across the room so she was stood behind him as he searched her wardrobe.

“Wasn’t my explanation before a perfect representation of what it means?” He asked, his eyes focusing on hauling different fabrics out of the cupboard.

“Not really.” She said straight, hearing him let out a short sigh as he continued his search. “Are you seriously going through my clothes right now to pick out an outfit for me?” She rolled her eyes as she witnessed the expression on his face, the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly at the determination in his eyes.

He didn’t say anything else in the moment as he removed a number of tops from her wardrobe and placed them down on her bed. He returned to the wardrobe to do the same with bottoms and shoes. He would have chosen her underwear as well, but he assumed that was probably going too far.

Eloise confirmed, that was definitely going too far.

“These are your options,” He said, pointing at the variety of clothes spread against her bed, “I’ve expertly sifted through your clothes and pulled out these items that will work with each other regardless of your combination which will make you look gorgeous tonight,” He smiled at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her into a side hug, “Like I said, tonight we are going all out and you are going to have the time of your life, even if it kills me. You are going to look stunning when you walk into the bar and you will have every single man in said bar desperate to dance with you, I promise.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or concerned at the amount of effort that you’re putting into this.” She spoke wearily.

“Can you just shut up and appreciate that I’m trying to do something nice for you?” He exaggerated his sigh and glared down at her, his arm lightly squeezing her as he pressed a loving kiss to the top of her head, “You deserve it for once, El, to just enjoy your night as you and not have to worry about anything else.”

“Is it hurting you to be this nice to me?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Very.” He nodded, trying to hold a serious expression.

Eloise couldn’t hold back her laugh as she turned to fully envelope Scott in a hug, wrapping her arms around him as she smiled. As much as he joked with her about how it killed him to be nice to her, she knew that it was all he ever was towards her. He was the best.

“Now can you hurry up and pick an outfit, I’m hungry,” He grumbled, releasing her, and gently pushing her towards her bed so she could piece together an outfit for her to wear tonight.

She stopped in her tracks halfway between Scott and her bed, turning in place to face him yet again, “Wait, why am I picking so early anyway?” She turned back to him, “If we’re going out tonight, I shouldn’t need to worry about what I’m wearing until later. Also, Scott, it’s not even 10am, why are we planning this now? Why not this afternoon?”

“Because you and I both have a free day, so I’m taking advantage,” He sighed as if it was obvious, “If we do this now, then we’ve got more time for our annual birthday breakfast as well as a few extra surprises I have in store for you.” He noted the small smile that spread along Eloise’s face, unable to hold back his own at the knowledge that it was genuine.

He lived for seeing his best friend smile, knowing she never had much to smile about. It warmed him to know he could do this for her on her birthday of all days.

*****

Eloise’s head slammed against the table in embarrassment as numerous employees of the café walked out from the staff door at the far side of the pastel coloured dining room, an eruption of voices singing happy birthday as they carried over a stack on pancakes to her table and set them down in front of her. Her eyes glared at Scott as he laughed, joining in with the song as he watched Eloise’s cheeks light up a bright shade of pink.

“I am going to kill you.” She grumbled over the voices that sang to her, her eyes unable to find a focal point as she felt the stares and smiles of strangers on her back who watched as the festivity continued around her.

After what felt like forever, the elderly employee wished Eloise happy birthday with a genuine smile spread across her face as she and the other employees disbursed and went back to work. The strangers around them also went back to their own food, socialising with those who sat opposite them in their booths. Eloise could slowly feel the eyes that were previously on her begin to dissipate, the burning sensation that rose on the back of her neck simmering down gently.

“You are so lucky that I have pancakes in front of me,” She warned, “If it were anything else, I swear I would throw it across the table at you.”

“’Thank you, Scott, that was so lovely and thoughtful of you’,” He mimicked her in a high pitched voice, “Oh no worries, El, just trying to do my part to make sure your birthday is a memorable one.”

She couldn’t help the goofy smile that graced her face as she looked at him. He was really trying to make this a day to remember. She appreciated the thought - although not the embarrassment - but the kindness behind the gesture that took place was one that made her smile with genuine thanks.

“You’re such an idiot,” She laughed as she cut into her food, shaking her head, “You would kill me if I did this for your birthday.”

“Exactly, which is why I can do it for you,” He shrugged, “But also the fact that I like my birthday is the reason why I would kill you for pulling a stunt like this, you on the other hand, despise the day so I pull out as many stops as I like to make it a day you can enjoy. And it looks like I am succeeding yet again for another year.”

It was sickening how lovely and thoughtful Scott could be when he tried. It was a polar opposite side to him compared to when he was tied up in the gang. The same could be said for Eloise, both of them acting almost completely different when in that situation.

The mood of breakfast subtly shifted while they ate; the change being noticed by Scott rather quickly as he watched while Eloise picked at her food. “What’s on your mind?” He asked, lifting a piece of toast to his mouth as he took a bite.

“It’s nothing,” She shook her head, smiling up at him, “Just thinking about how I’m going to finish these pancakes.”

“And what else?” He raised an eyebrow, watching as her breath hitched in her throat ever so slightly.

Usually when something bugged her and she brushed him off, he let it slide. He wouldn’t pester her, knowing that if it got bad then she would usually talk to him. But he knew she was vulnerable especially right now, her birthdays typically rolling with the same routine where she had a low moment or two before they were replaced with fun and adrenaline later on in the night.

“Honestly, it’s nothing.”

“El, please- “

“I said it was nothing so drop it!” She warned, glaring at him from across the table. She sighed deeply as she dropped her fork and placed her head in her hands, knowing she was just letting things get on top of her as she usually did on this day each year. She knew she would move past it and be fine in a few hours, but she couldn’t help but dwell on the maybes that circled her mind.

“You know you can always vis- “

“I’m not doing that,” She shook her head, not even looking at Scott as she cut him off, “There’s no way in hell I’m going there, especially today.”

“As much as it hurts, you’re going to have to do it one day,” Scott sighed as he leaned back in his chair, “Whether you want to or not, El, because you need to.”

“Go to hell.” She muttered, pushing her plate away from her, her stomach suddenly becoming sick at the thought of the pancakes that sat in front of her.

“Unfortunately for you I don’t think they’re quite ready for me yet,” Scott joked, “Maybe tomorrow if you’re lucky.”

He could sense the roll of her eyes from beneath her hands, a soft sigh building in his chest as he watched his best friend dwell on the memories that followed her with every step that she took in life. He did ask himself if one day she would get the closure she didn’t know she needed, if one day she would find the happiness she craved; not the happiness that she felt when she was having a good time with friends but instead a happiness where she could wake up in the morning and look at her life and love every moment she breathed. He wanted that for her more than most.

*****

She couldn’t stop staring at the clothes that were laid out for her on the bed, her eyes scanning over the different materials as she pieced them together in her mind. Was she crazy for being so bold? Well, most people wouldn’t call her outfit of choice for the nigh bold but for Eloise, this was definitely a step out of her comfort zone.

“You better be getting ready!” A voice called through the closed door of her room.

“Yeah.” She responded, fake conviction in her tone as she kept her eyes plastered on the mesh long-sleeved top that was staring back at her, as if playing an intimidation game.

Maybe she would feel better if she just got dressed, yeah maybe that would fix her nerves. Nerves? Is that what they were? She never feared a night out before so why was tonight any different?

Her fingers trailed over the blue denim skirt on her bed, sighing as she remembered the day that she had bought it. Well, the day it had been bought for her. She couldn’t fight the underlying twitch in her heart as she remembered the woman who bought her this skirt, remembering her almost as well as her own mother. Scott’s parents always looked out for her, and always bought her nice things for her birthday every year when she stayed with them, celebrating the day with great joy and treasuring the sentimental value that they carried with all celebrations. The denim skirt was the last thing Scott’s mother had bought for her before she left, it being found in a thrift store on one of her monthly escapades, seeing it and instantly thinking of Eloise. It was simple yet intricate, much the opposite of the girl who wore it.

Eloise, get over yourself and just get dressed for crying out loud! She scolded herself as she sighed, rubbing her face with her hands before she began to get dressed, silently trying to convince herself that she would feel better in a few hours.

Scott had pieced together their entire night, the birthday celebrations estimating to last until the early hours of the next morning as per usual on their nights out. Eloise couldn’t deny she was just a little bit excited about tonight, the buzz gently floating around in her stomach at the thought of spending time with her friends, allowing herself to feel like a normal girl living in the Big Apple.

She couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting to herself in the mirror as she stood in her bedroom, the minimal décor suddenly making her feel as if she was out of place, as if to feel unwelcome as the colours of her outfit contrasted against the neutral theme of her room. Her eyes followed the outline of her outfit, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked at where the skirt ended midthigh, the waistline of the denim material blending into the black mesh top she wore where her offending dark green lace bralette could be seen through the thin material.

Her choice of outfit was bold tonight when it came to her usual taste in clothes. She knew teasing comments would be made tonight by her friends, awaiting the joking remarks they would make in response to her somewhat bold choices. She would blame Scott for the decision, like she always did.

The sound of her bedroom door opening tore her eyes from the mirror, meeting her tall friend as he stood in the doorway and watched as the dark-haired beauty in front of him nit-picked at herself.

“Not too shabby,” He smirked, admiring his best friend as she stood in front of him, “Is that some colour I see?”

“Shut up,” She rolled her eyes, moving to walk past him and nudging past his shoulder as she walked out into her hallway, making her way into the kitchen to pour herself a drink. He always made her feel good, made her feel confident, and she appreciated it when she didn’t have the energy to do it herself. She didn’t usually doubt how she looked, it typically being one of the last things on her mind as she travelled around in her staple black jeans, white t-shirt, and rugged leather jacket with her classic combat boots. “Drink?” She called out to Scott.

She reached onto the kitchen island, grasping hold of the first bottle neck that caught her attention, her eyes scanned the label. Yeah, that would do. She poured some of the copper liquid into one of the plastic cups she kept stored for nights like these, reaching over and grabbing the nearest soda she could find, pouring it into the cup, and creating the alcoholic concoction that she prayed would give her the buzz she so desperately desired. She then followed the same recipe for the mixture as she poured it into another cup and handed it to Scott, placing it in his hands before knocking her cup against his in a ‘cheers’ notion, lifting the cup to her lips as she took a large gulp of the bitter drink.

She scrunched her face up at the sharp taste, shaking her head once as if to adjust to the aftershock and slight burn that settled in the back of her throat.

“Are you not going to let me do a birthday toast to kick your birthday off in style?” Scott asked, his eyes furrowed slightly as he watched Eloise take another drink.

“Considering how bad your rendition of happy birthday was this morning,” She smirked, “I think I’ll pass. I would prefer if we focused on getting as tipsy as possible before the others arrive so we can head out and paint the town.”

“For once in your life, you’ve actually had a good idea.”

“Dickhead.” She mumbled under her breath, clinking her plastic cup with Scott’s as they continued to drink, preparing for the night ahead.

*****

Her body vibrated with the beat of the music as it erupted throughout Moxi’s. She could barely hear herself think as she moved to the music with her friends, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face, her cheeks aching pleasantly at the people around her.

Unable to fight the buzz that took over her mind and body as she moved around the floor, grasping the hand of her friend, Paige, as she helplessly – and terribly – danced around the glowing floor. Eloise had lost count of how long she had been dancing more, never mind how long she had been at the club for. She witnessed the bodies around her, depicting each one as her friends as they surrounded her, each one in their own world as they danced around, smiles across their faces while they lived in the moment.

It was times like this she lived for, the moments where she was surrounded by the people who she loved more than life itself.

“Have you noticed that guy at the bar?” The voice she deciphered belonging to her friend, Mia, spoke loudly to her. Eloise’s eyes drifted over to the bar to her right, the neon lights along the top of the bar and scattered along the back wall in different phrases and patterns catching her attention initially before she admired the crowd that spread along that side of the club. Her eyes searched as people were dispersed along the bar, many of them shouting out with a glimmer of hope to catch the attention of one of the few bar staff that were littered along the bar before they stopped on him. Eloise let her eyes settle on him for a moment, feeling Mia’s body stood beside her but the heat that radiated from the excited brunette beside her was the last thing on her mind. “He’s been watching you since you got up to dance.”

“Has he?” Eloise felt her lips turn up at the thought of being watched by an attractive stranger, “What if he was just- “

“El, he was staring at you. By staring, I mean the ‘I want to take her home and fuck her senseless’ kind of stare,” She blurted, “In the least creepy way possible if you can even do that.”

Eloise just let a simple hum slip pass her lips as her eyes met the stranger’s, unable to decipher much about him due to the distance between them, but the one thing she could work out was that he was hot.

The heat of a hand on her wrist tore her eyes from the stranger at the bar, the brown of her irises turning around to be met with the olive green ones of Roman, another one of her friends who had come out to celebrate her birthday. She couldn’t help the smile that stayed on her face as he dragged her further into the dance floor, bodies surrounding them as they danced. Although her smile never faltered, Eloise couldn’t help but feel the small seed of disappointment that settled in her stomach due to her short lived, silent interaction with the handsome stranger.

“Where’s Scott?” She leaned into Roman’s ear to talk, realising that she hadn’t seen the blond for a while, the music around them seeming to increase in volume the further into the dance floor they travelled.

“Last I saw him, he was kissing some girl outside the bathroom,” He responded loudly as he held one of Eloise’s hands, spinning her in place.

“That’s my Scotty!” She erupted into laughter, clapping her hands briefly together before they were grabbed again by the summer-eyed boy in front of her as the dance moves got more exaggerated and more chaotic.

Eloise knew she was going to be in pain by the morning, her feet already slightly burning at the heels she had been forced to wear out tonight by Paige but especially because the movements her body was eliciting were not ones her body was made for. God, she was going to regret this, but in the best way possible.

The night continued on as the music did, shifting from numerous electronica tracks to the few well-known classics that caused the club to erupt into cheers as people sang along drunkenly to the words that they swore they knew. Eloise couldn’t deny that her mind wandered on more than one occasion throughout the night, the handsome stranger filling her drunk brain as she sat at a table with her group of friends.

The smile on her face was a drunk one, but one of fun. She was having a blast, something that she always knew she had when the celebrations got truly under way every year. Scott had outdone himself yet again in making this a birthday she enjoyed. Her mind was distracted from the puzzles and memories that usually haunted her, instead filling it with a fairy-like haze as the alcohol settled in her system, her body radiating a gentle heat as she sat surrounded by the people who mattered. Even if one of them was an estranged young lady with bleached red hair.

“So, Scotty, who’s your friend?” Jackson smirked, head nodding towards the red head who made herself present on their friend’s lap. It couldn’t be faulted that she was pretty but definitely too drunk to know who’s lap she was perched on.

“This is Lydia,” Scott spoke, his voice deep as his eyes scanned down her body before slowly meeting her eyes once again, a filthy smirk creasing his lips as his eyes practically undressed her in the public building.

“Pig.” Eloise coughed, keeping her voice quiet as she teasingly smirked at her friend across the table.

What happened to tonight being the night where Eloise would find someone to take home? But as per usual, Scott beat her to it.

Or did he?

“Move.” She muttered suddenly, her knee nudging Jackson’s jean covered leg as she tried to make her way out of the booth, her hand shoving his shoulder to hurry him along.

“How charming,” He rolled his eyes, “What happened to saying please?”

“Just move. I gotta pee.” She groaned, shoving him a bit harder this time.

Small outbursts of chuckles and smiles were exchanged around the table as Eloise made her way out of the booth, gathering her balance as she walked through the club, her eyes finding the toilet door just to the right at the far side of the bar. Her heeled feet carried her steadily through the crowds, walking along the makeshift path made by the gap between the people stood along the bar and those on the higher tables above the dance floor.

Eloise couldn’t stop herself as she allowed her eyes to travel subtly along the bar, keeping an eye out for a certain individual, wondering if he was still around for her to catch a knowing glance. Realisation struck her as she reached the bathroom door, her mind stopping the disappointment in its tracks before it had the chance to settle. She didn’t need to feel that right now. So what? A handsome stranger caught her attention then vanished? It wouldn’t be the first time.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror when she exited the stall, noting the way her hair fell down her shoulders, the way her pupils were enlarged slightly due to the buzz of the alcohol she had consumed throughout the night, the way her makeup was slightly smudged due to the sweaty atmosphere of the bar. She didn’t care enough to fix it, in a way admiring how it still looked presentable. Although she wasn’t sure if that was genuine or if her vision was just playing tricks on her.

Eloise couldn’t help but smile as the thin arms of Paige appeared around her torso as she was squeezed into an awkward hug from behind. “How’re you doing?” Paige smiled, her bleached blonde hair curling perfectly around her thin face.

“Why does everyone ask me that?” Eloise sighed, the smile disappearing as she looked at the reflections of the mirror. Paige noted the way Eloise’s body tensed, her shoulders squaring and her breath catching as she met her chocolate eyes in the mirror, her arms remaining comfortably around her friend as she rested her cheek against Eloise’s back.

“Because we know that you’re hiding something,” She spoke quietly, “El, we know things are bad, but you’ve got us, you need to talk to us about stuff.”

“I’d prefer not to,��� She spat, “No offence but you guys don’t know anything so stop pestering and just let me enjoy my night.”

“And how do you expect to do that when you can’t get out of your own head?”

“You’ll see.” She told her, standing up straight before looking towards the door of the bathroom.

She was going to find that stranger and show her friends exactly how she wasn’t in her own head. She was going to make tonight her night.

Paige slowly released Eloise from her grip, turning the girl in her arms and looking into her oak-coloured eyes, smiling sweetly at her before she nodded towards the door, “Let’s make this a night to remember then,” She cared for Eloise as much as they all did, she saw her as a little sister like they all did; each of them feeling this urge to protect her and look out for her even though they knew she was more than capable of doing it on her own. They just couldn’t fight their primal urges.

Eloise’s feet could barely keep up as Paige dragged her back out into the loud atmosphere, the lights flashing around her as she led her back out onto the dance floor, her hands linking with the blonde’s as they began to dance; hips swinging and heels clicking as they moved to the beat of the music. The upbeat thumping of the current electronic track began to fade out, the smooth scratch of a familiar track beginning to take its place as it blasted throughout the club speakers. Laughter was held back by Eloise at her friend’s ecstatic expression, eyes the size of her head, her hands gripping those of the tall brunette as she pulled her further into the middle of the dance floor, her hips turning sultrier by the second as her movements slowed down to match the beat of the music.

To hell with it, Eloise thought. She grinned widely as she joined in, her hips matching Paige’s rhythm as she stood opposite her, both of them fully losing themselves in the song that surrounded them, their eyes focused on each other when they weren’t closed as they embraced the alcoholic buzz. She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the feeling of multiple pairs of eyes on her. She could feel them burning through the fabric of her thin top as well as her skirt as the fabric rode up ever so slightly on her thighs.

Her lips parted slightly as she softly sang the words along with the music, swaying her hips to the rhythm. They were soon joined by Roman who found them on the dance floor, his hands finding Paige’s waist as he swayed with her from behind.

Eloise couldn’t deny the subtle feeling of dread when Roman showed up, enjoying it before when it was just her and Paige dancing. When he came into the picture, it just felt as if she was a third wheel to their relationship, a spare part in the project. She didn’t want to feel as though she was perceived as selfish for feeling that way, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m gonna go and get another drink,” She called to Paige, brushing her hand with her own before slipping away from the crowd and heading over to the bar. Her aching feet carried her through the club, each heavy bassline of the song playing rattled through the place which Eloise felt with every step she took. Maybe another drink would help, she thought.

She found a perfectly timed space at the bar, slotting herself between the underage drinker to her left and the toy-boy to her right as she leaned against the bar, looking out to see where the nearest member of staff was stood along the bar. Her blunt nails tapped rapidly against the skin of her cheek while her head in her hand, her eyes absently reading the neon signs that were scattered around as she waited to give her request. This was the one downside about separating from your group on a night out; having to actually go and wait at the bar to order your own drink. Typically, their group would order in bulks so one person would buy for everyone to save multiple trips every time that someone wanted a drink.

Before she knew it, a bright yet tired smile greeted her from behind the bar, a young man with shaggy auburn hair stood at the till and asked her for her order. It took a moment to register that it was her chance, her throat catching for a second before clearing and allowing her to speak.

“Just a vodka and lemonade please.” She smiled sweetly, trying to somehow ease the tension in her ankles from her heels and she shifted her weight between both feet.

“Single or double?” He asked, pressing a couple of buttons on the black machine before his eyes met her own once again, “Or is that a stupid question?”

“Surprise me.” She winked, letting out a small laugh as she reached into her bag and pulled out her card.

Thankfully, the barman didn’t long to make her concoction, allowing her to get back to her friends as soon as possible, being reunited with the familiar faces she was spending the night with. She made her back to the booth where her friends sat, perching herself on the edge of one of the seats as she sipped her sweet drink. She caught the end of a conversation – more like an argument – between Jackson and Mia, the situation seeming to be get heated between them as Mia looked to be close to tears.

“What the fuck is going here?” Eloise cried out, spotting her friend with glassy eyes leaning forward as she pointed an accusing finger towards the broad man sat on the opposite side of the booth. Her eyes shot between the two young adults, confusion clouding her brain as she tried to figure out what happened, the drunk state she was currently in not helping the situation much.

She made a silent note of Scott’s absence, already knowing that Paige and Roman were dancing, her eyes glancing around for the blond friend who she knew would be with the red head she met previously. No sign of them… Great.

She tried to concentrate as her two friends continued to argue over the table of the booth, hopeless slurs being thrown at each other as they yelled. Eloise really didn’t understand what was going on, nor did she care in all honesty, but she still had to be the good friend who would break up the argument and restore peace to the friendship. She really didn’t want to have to share a taxi back with them if they were still arguing.

“How did this even start?” She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically as she rolled her eyes, looking back up at her friends before she waited for the rushed explanations to begin. As much as she loved Mia dearly, she knew she was one for starting arguments when she drunk, it was what she was known for. There wasn’t a night that involved alcohol where there wasn’t a fight that had to be defused due to her.

Long story short, Jackson made a comment about a girl’s dress and Mia took it upon herself to assume he was being rude, and accusing said girl of having ill intentions of her night out. Which, of course, is ridiculous and Mia would have known had she not been numerous double mixers into her night.

Eloise couldn’t hold back her frustrated sigh as she glared at Mia who could barely sit up right in the booth. She needed to be taken home. For a gang banger who put up with a more brutal situations in her daily life, it was a drunken friend that drove her to her limit. “Take her home, Jack,” She sighed, keeping her eyes firmly planted on the brunette who swayed in place, “She’s had too much to drink and the last thing we need is her being kicked out of here alone.”

Eloise assisted her friends in her own drunken state, the alcohol leaving her with a gentle buzz as she sipped her drinks throughout the night, lifting Mia up from her seat and helping her walk towards the door of the club, patting Jackson’s shoulder as he led their friend outside and into a taxi.

Two down, three to go…

She took a deep breath as she made her way back over to her table, silently begging that nobody had claimed it as their own while she walked her friends out, hoping that even in a drunk state, people would see jackets and bags and realise that people were sitting there. Who was she kidding, that never happened. Which is why she wasn’t surprised when she found someone sitting at her table when she returned, her heels clicking against the floor as she made her way over, ready to make the intruder aware that the table was already taken.

Well, she was about to until he looked up, his face causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She felt her mouth suddenly dry up as her eyes froze on his calm expression as he looked at up her, sensing her presence without her speaking a word. She couldn’t ignore the beauty that his face held, the tanned skin that she could make out beneath the flashing lights of the club, the deep dark eyes that met her own as they stayed in silence.

It was him. The handsome stranger.

“You’ve got some moves by the way,” His voice spoke out, his eyes remaining connected with hers, his tongue running along the inside of his bottom lip. He noted her shallow breath that she attempted to take without being noticed, unable to hide the shaking in her throat as she exhaled. “Something that I’m sure gets a lot of attention.”

“Your point is?” She spoke up, her voice surprisingly strong although her breathing was not.

She couldn’t help the lump that formed in her throat when she saw his smile, a teasing strip show was less erotic than that goddamn smile. She felt the effects of that charming smile knock her for six.

“Just saying there must a lucky guy who gets to see that later in all its glory,” He smirked, his posture straightening as he reached for her glass of vodka lemonade, lifting it to his lips and taking a small sip.

Eloise could only dream of being that glass in that moment. What was happening to her? What happened to the tough exterior she usually put on; the one that typically made boys fall at her knees? This time she was the one who was crumbling at the feet of a man she didn’t even know.

“And what if there isn’t?” She straightened her back, attempting to regain her confidence, erasing the previous rush of butterflies as she resumed back to her placid stance, allowing for her feet to carry her the rest of the way to the table, comfortably leaning against the edge as she stood just metres away from the man who easily claimed her attention. Who would have thought a stranger would have so much control in such little time?

Eloise was sure it happened all of the time, unable to deny how handsome he was, how pretty he was. He must have had numerous women falling at his feet for a chance with him, and Eloise was no different than the rest of them. But she didn’t want him to know that.

“Then that would be shame,” He teased, moving along the booth so he sat right at the edge, his eyes never breaking contact with hers, “A true utter shame.”

She noted how his voice slowed down, his annunciation of each word made clear through his mixed accent. It sounded American but there was a twang in there, she couldn’t pinpoint from where exactly. “And why is it such a shame? It’s not as if it affects you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, doll,” He stood to his feet, the muscles beneath his leather jacket bulging as he leaned an arm against the table and turned to face her, “It wouldn’t be very gentlemen like of me to allow a young lady like yourself to travel home alone in your state.”

She couldn’t help the smirk itching her face, rethinking the amount of drinks she had consumed over the course of the night, the buzz still filling her with a warmth as her brain gently felt like a slow-motion volleyball being tossed back and forth inside her head. She had to admit to herself that for such a gorgeous man he had poor game. Although she couldn’t deny the nickname elicited an excitement inside her she didn’t know existed, causing something inside of her desperate to hear it once more. With the distance between them closed further, she noticed his beauty only grew as did his height. He was more beautiful than she already thought, or maybe it was just the alcohol taking over again. She noticed how plump and soft his lips looked, how his cheeks were full and supple, while his eyes were dark like hers but seemed to hold a vortex beneath them; a vortex which she wanted to explore.

“I think I’ll manage just fine on my own,” She leaned against the table, her hand resting on her hip as she admired his sculpted face.

“Doll,” He spoke, his voice merely above a whisper yet she could hear it perfectly clear, “Why can’t you just take a hint that I’m interested? And I can tell that you are too.”

“I think you’re overestimating your game,” She teased, although the effect the name had on her wasn’t hidden, “You’re pretty but your game is shit.”

“Oh, but I can assure you, my mouth can do more than just talk a shit game,” He licked the corner of his bottom lip, the edge of his tongue poking out as he watched her eyes flicker.

She hated that she was so turned on by the sound of that. Eloise could always fake emotions pretty well but in this situation, the attempt at hiding how she felt was futile. God, what was she doing? Was she actually considering disappearing with this man and getting up to goodness knows what? Yes, she was.

Before Eloise could begin to comprehend what was happening, she was in the back of a cab, her lips attached to his as his large hands roamed along her thighs, hips, and torso as she straddled him. The apology for the taxi driver being the last thing on her mind, her subconscious aware that they were probably used to these sights in the unsociable hours after a Saturday night.

She couldn’t help but make a mental note of how soft his lips were against her own, how large his hands were as they slid down her body and cupped her behind, the grip against her skin through her denim skirt sent heat to multiple areas of her body, his touch erupting a fire within her.

She panted for breath as he detached his lips from hers, his plump ones creating a path as they trailed along her jaw and down her neck, his teeth coming into the mix as he gently nipped at her soft skin, working his way to leave a mark; a brand that marked her as his for the short amount of time that they would spend together.

“I didn’t…” She panted; her voice weak as her eyes closed at the sensation his mouth evoked within her. She tilted her head to the right, allowing him greater access to paint her skin with various shades of blue and purple as her hands found his hair, “I didn’t even catch your name.”

She felt the vibration of his hum travel through her, the noise was deep yet symphonic much like the tone of his voice as he spoke, “The name’s Calum, sweetheart, but you can call me whatever you want.”

His voice sounded exasperated, as if it was lost and he was searching for the air to breath, his lips reattaching to her neck as they travelled back up her body, reattaching with her own pink ones as he placed a long, sucking kiss to them that he never wanted to end. “And what should I call you?”

“Eloise,” She whispered, her lips lightly brushing his as she spoke, her voice so quiet it could barely be heard, “But you can call me El.”

And by god he did. Repeatedly.

---

Tag List: @steviemae​

[springday-aus]

BTS’s Namjoon: Plus Two || part one

—

Fic Piece Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus​

Moodboard Link: Created By Admin Grandpa

Character Pairing: Y/N and BTS’s Kim Namjoon (RM)

Other Characters: BTS [Hoseok, Taehyung, Yoongi (barista!yoongi), Seokjin - others are mentioned briefly], Hyerin (EXID), Suho (EXO OT12), Moonbyul (Mamamoo), Eric Nam, Tiffany (SNSD), Irene (Red Velvet), and Jackson (GOT7) - along with their respective group members, who are involved as planners, partakers, and guests 

Genre: romance, comedy, officer worker!Namjoon, wedding date!au, friends to lovers!au 

Type: series [two parts]

part one || part two

Word Count: approx. 21.6k

Plot Summary: getting older is never easy, especially with all the weddings Namjoon has been attending. Fortunately for him, a run in with an old friend of his, i.e. you, makes all these weddings a bit more bearable. 

⤷ Alternatively: you and Namjoon keep running into each other, ultimately becoming unofficial wedding dates. Once it’s official, a couple of things start to change... such as the old flame that Namjoon thought he put out. 

→ Inspired by: the movie called Plus One—hence the creation of Plus Two!

Warnings: lots of drinking involved and cursing 

A/N: this accidentally became a slow burn fic, considering that I stretched out Namjoon’s pining to 21k words. 

October 25th, 2019

Friday, 10AM 

Lee Corporations

—

The clicks of computer keyboards fill the dead silence of the office floor. Everyone’s buried in their own paperwork and files, concerned about finishing their workload before the work day is over. Namjoon sits in his cubicle, reorganizing his spreadsheets and double checking the numbers. It’s taking longer than he originally wanted, but then again, computer games are designed for distractions. He checks his watch. It’s only been two hours and he’s already bored. Sure, he’s got enough work, but does he really want to do it? 

No, not really. 

He rubs his eyes, which he inwardly hopes might wake him up from this nightmare. Curse him for being practical and choosing to be a business major. Had he chosen a different path, he might have turned out happier—at least, he has a stable paycheck. By the end of the day, that’s all that really matters in this lifetime. 

A chime from his phone interrupts his thoughts on his extinctial crisis. He grabs his phone from his desk counter, as he stands up from his seat. Might as well grab another cup of coffee. He heads to the break room and immediately navigates himself into the corner, where the coffee maker rests. After plugging it in, he unlocks his phone and clicks on the latest notification—an email sent to his personal inbox.

You’re invited to celebrate the union of Seo Hyerin and Yoon Jae Jung! 

Date: November 16th 

Time: 11:15am for the ceremony, 8pm for the reception

Location: Crossroads Cathedral and Sweet Dreams Event Hall 

Please RSVP at XXX-XXX-XXXX or respond to the email! We hope to see you there! 

Huh, he hadn’t heard from Hyerin for a while—last thing he remembered was that she was enjoying her job as a translator and she was in a wonderful relationship, which is now blossoming into marriage. 

Good for her.

He doesn’t mean for it to sound as sarcastic as it does. It is good for her. As one of her close friends (close enough to get her wedding invitation at least), he’s glad she’s able to find someone who wants to share her life with. 

But it’s also a reminder that Namjoon hasn’t managed to do the same. He shuts his eyes and lets out a long sigh. It’s going to be really sad that he’s going to be there without a date of some sort, while others are most likely going to be there with dates. It’ll be nice to catch up with some of his old friends, but it’s also going to be a pain to have all those pity looks and the ‘don’t worry, you’ll find someone soon’ speeches. 

By the time he realizes he’s lost himself within his thoughts once again, the coffee is reheated and his phone screen has turned black. He moves his mug and slowly pours the dark liquid in. Namjoon’s ringtone breaks the silence. The image of Hoseok’s dog, Micky, flashes on his screen with the words, Dancing King. 

“What’s up, man?” Namjoon asks, as he pours a packet of sugar into his cup. 

“Hey! How’s my favorite businessman?” 

“Hoseok, I’m the only businessman you know.” 

“No! Wonsik is also a businessman.” 

“He’s a CEO of his own music company—while there is business associated, he’s still deemed as a musician in my book.” 

There’s a bit of silence and Namjoon can practically see Hoseok’s lips pulling back in disappointment. 

“Same difference,” Hoseok says through the line. “Anyways, did you see the invitation yet?” 

“Yeah, I saw it,” Namjoon says. “I just can’t believe Hyerin is already getting married.” 

“I know. It’s almost like we’re adults or something.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes from Hoseok’s sarcastic comment, even though he can’t see it. “Are you bringing anyone?” 

“It’s too soon to see, but I might try to find a date—it’s just another wedding.” There’s a pause, with some muffled shuffling. “If not though, would you do the honor of being my date?” 

“You know, I might just take you up on that offer.” 

“Bet,” Hoseok says. “Well, the others are starting to come back from break. I’ll talk to you later?” 

“You know where I’ll be.” 

“Only from 9 to 5.” There’s another laugh from him through the phone. “Alright, bye!” 

“Bye.” 

He sets his phone down, staring mindlessly into his coffee as he waits for the sugar to dissolve. 

Well, on the bright side, he has a date to the wedding now. That one task marked off the list. 

November 16th, 2019

Saturday, 9PM 

Hyerin’s Reception 

Sweet Dreams Event Hall 

—

“I’ve known Hyerin for such a long time,” Hani says. “And I have seen so many sides of her. Even today, she continues to reveal new sides of her that are surprising to everyone. She’s smart; she’s classy; she’s fun-loving and she’s cute. Sure, everyone here might know her as the crazy one in this group. But that craziness is part of her charm—which I’m sure Jae Jung has experienced at least once or twice by now.” 

The crowd laughs, as Hani tips her glass towards the couple. She gives another dazzling smile to them and continues. “Nevertheless, that craziness is what’s going to make life more entertaining for you. Some may say marriage doesn’t last, but I know you two will make it work. As one of Hyerin’s closest friends, I wish you two nothing more than a lifetime of happiness from one another. Congratulations, Hyerin and Jae Jung.”

There’s a light applause as Hani, the maid of honor, finishes her speech, which is followed by the taps of the guests’ champagne glasses. Hoseok and Namjoon’s glasses make a clink against the other, before they respectively clink their glasses with the other guests at their table. 

“Cheers.” 

“Cheers.” 

“Cheers.”

After taking a sip, Namjoon turns his attention back to his plate, which is cleared of food. 

“Hey,” he says with a nudge to Hoseok. “When did they say they were gonna cut the cake?” 

“I think they’re gonna cut it after a couple more courses.” 

“I’m so full.” Namjoon lightly pats his stomach. “I knew there was gonna be a lot of food, but I didn’t know it was going to be this much.” 

Hoseok lets out a laugh. “Hyerin’s got a bottomless pit for a stomach—you should have known she was going to have a lot of food.” 

Namjoon laughs with him. “Oh my God. How could I forget the buffet incident?”

Their conversation is interrupted by some feedback from the speakers. The crowd’s attention is turned back to the main table, where Hyerin stands with the microphone in hand and her new husband, Jae Jung, is trying to fix the veil that was caught on the back of her dress. 

“Hello everyone! Thank you so much for coming and joining us for this evening. Also, if we could give another hand to Hani for helping me arrange the whole thing—she really is the best. This night has been the most incredible.” There’s some more applause and, at the end of the main table, Hani stands once more with a smile and bows to the guest tables. 

Hyerin continues to talk once it dies down. “Um, we’re still coming around to the tables to properly greet and thank everyone for their support and gifts. The cake will be cut soon, but we still have two more courses left. Also, the bar remains open, if any adults need some more alcohol.” There’s a light laugh—Hoseok and Namjoon exchange looks of agreement to hit the bar after the meal. 

“And after the cake is cut, everyone is welcome to the dance floor.” She hands the mic to Jae Jung. 

“Hyerin and I will have our first dance and, after that, the party can officially start.” A guy in the back shouts a ‘woo’ and there’s scattered laughter. “Anyways, thank you again for coming in support of Hyerin and I. We hope you have a good time tonight.” 

There’s more applause and the couple resume to make their rounds to each table. The informal conversations begin once again as the guests wait for the next course to be served. Namjoon turns his attention back to Hoseok, who’s already engaged in conversation with a couple of people at the table. 

“So, how do you know the couple?” Minhyuk asks. 

“Ah, Hyerin and I went to the same dance academy,” Hoseok says. “We’ve been friends for, like, 10 years now. We all still talk so…” He gives a light shrug with an eased smile. 

Minhyuk looks over at Namjoon unexpectedly, who freezes for a bit from the eye contact, before answering. “Oh, I met Hyerin through Hoseok actually,” he says. “We had a couple of classes together and were in a couple of study groups together in college and…” He pauses. “Here we are. How do you know her?” 

“I was friends with her back in high school,” Minhyuk says. “A lot of people thought we were dating, so it’s a whole inside joke between us—especially since I got invited to her wedding.” 

“That’s funny,” Namjoon says. “But, wow. You kept in contact after high school?” 

“Yeah, thanks to the creation of cell phones and, as you already know.” He pauses. “Hyerin is very sociable, so it’d be hard to not keep contact.” 

“Speaking of which,” Hoseok says. “There’s a lot of people here. Their guest list is huge.” 

“I have a feeling there’s more of Hyerin’s friends than Jae Jung,” Namjoon says with a small laugh. 

“I’d place my bet on that,” Minhyuk says. His attention is diverted towards the servers that were coming out to serve the fifth course, making more conversation with the others at the table. 

“That’s a safe bet,” Hoseok says to Namjoon. “I’ve seen nearly everyone from dance camp.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Hoseok takes another look around. “I saw Hyemi as we were coming in and Sanghyuk is just a couple of tables away.” He pokes his head up, sitting up straighter to get a more clear look around. “I should catch up with him in a bit.” 

“Maybe you two can meet on the dance floor,” Namjoon says with a laugh. “That’d be an interesting scene.” 

“Well, there is an open bar.” 

Namjoon can only give Hoseok a warning look, to which he gets a mischievous one in return. He can only sigh in response, but he can’t help to chuckle. He’s known Hoseok for so long that he knows he can’t stop one of his shenanigans. 

He resumes his attention back to his plate, where a small scoop of brightly colored sorbet sits in a little bowl. 

“It’s cute,” Hoseok says. “We get ice cream before the cake.” He does a little dance with his shoulders, beaming with his pearly whites. 

“First of all,” Namjoon says. “I think you’ve had enough sugar. I’m afraid of what’ll happen once the alcohol starts to take effect as well. Secondly, it’s sorbet and it’s supposed to refresh your palate.” 

“Ah, Namjoon,” Hyerin says. “Smart as always.” The entire table centers their focus on the newlyweds, who’ve approached them from behind. Light cheers erupt from the other guests and Namjoon gives her a big, toothy grin. 

“I was just wondering when you two were gonna get to our table,” Il Woo says from across the table. 

Hyerin laughs. “I’m trying my best to get to all the tables, but, in hindsight, we do have too many friends.” 

“To be honest,” Jae Jung says. “We had to cut down the list, like, twice.” 

“Finding a venue to fit everyone was easier than cutting down the list. Who knew?” Hyerin makes a face, which Hoseok responds to with one of his. The two start to go around the table, individually catching up with others and filling the guest’s glasses as they chat—eventually getting to Hoseok and Namjoon. 

“Are you two finally dating?” Hyerin teases.

“As much as I like Hoseok,” Namjoon says. “Seokjin is more of my type.” He looks over at Hoseok, who pouts. 

Hoseok turns away with bitterness. “That’s fine, I like Yoongi better anyways.” 

“It’s nice to see that you two haven’t changed,” Hyerin says. “Thank you for coming—the both of you.” 

“It’s no problem,” Hoseok says. “We’re your friends.” 

“We’re here to support you.” Namjoon says. 

“You two are just as sweet as I remember,” she says with a bright smile. She taps her glass with theirs. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers.” 

���Cheers.” 

Hoseok and Namjoon take their respective sips, while Hyerin drowns hers down. 

“Damn,” Hoseok says. “Your tolerance hasn’t changed since college.” 

“We’ll see with how tonight goes,” Hyerin says. “I think the others’ have lowered, so watch out when they all head to the bar.” 

“You mean like now?” Namjoon asks. 

“What?”

Namjoon points a finger towards the wall where glass shelves hold many colorful bottles of wine, liquor, and juices to mix with the alcohol. A bartender mixes the drinks to the best of her abilities to fill the four glasses set on the counter. Hyerin’s bridesmaids lean on the countertop, shouting “shots” repeatedly. 

“Oh dear God,” Hyerin says. She shuffles with her dress, grabbing as much of it as she can, and attempts to run over towards them. “Y’all!! Couldn’t you have waited until the elders left!?! Wait for me!” 

Jae Jung hurriedly follows after her. “Honey! Be careful with the dress, you could trip!” 

After they ran off, Hoseok and Namjoon could no longer hold in their laughter. 

“That’s one way to exit a conversation,” Namjoon says with another sip of his champagne. “They really haven’t changed since college.” He lets out another laugh. “Who else do you think is here?” 

“Honestly, knowing Hyerin,” Hoseok says. “I have no clue.” 

They get back to their plates and converse with the others at the table. Hyerin has made many friends after graduating, Namjoon notes. Then again, she’s always been very friendly with others, which is how Namjoon was able to easily get along with her. 

As the conversations go, the last course, along with the cake, is served and the dance floor is officially open. Once 10pm hit, Hyerin and Jae Jung led their first dance. Everyone slowly started to join in and then the songs were transitioning to a faster pace, in which the elderly started to take their leave. Good timing too because the alcohol started to set in and no one had any resistance left. 

Hoseok has officially abandoned Namjoon to steal the leftover party favors on empty tables (at this point, he’s openly stealing rather than sneaking them into his pockets). Namjoon remains at the, now, empty table and empty plate—observing the other guests who have made a home for themselves on the dance floor. 

Hyojin’s alcohol tolerance is officially met as she twerks on the dance floor. Hyerin and Hoseok’s dance friends, Hyemi and Sanghyuk, have officially engaged in a full-fledged dance battle. Meanwhile, one of the bridesmaids, Solji, has another, Junghwa, on one arm to pull her away from any physical object she could flirt with (to which Namjoon has been a victim) and, in the other arm, she holds a svedka bottle that’s already half empty. In another corner, from Namjoon’s table, Minhyuk has helped himself to the rest of the uncut cake with a serving spoon. 

Amidst the chaos, Namjoon stays at the table, taking in the atmosphere with the disco lights and fast-paced radio hip-hop songs. He nods along with the music, mouthing along with the lyrics. As much as he would love to join the others, he knows he would most likely break something of his, or someone else’s. 

He checks his watch and glances around, wondering as to how far Hoseok had gotten with the party favors. Just as he was about to start his search, Rihanna’s Umbrella starts to play and that’s when he hears Hoseok before he can see him. 

“BITCH! THIS IS MY JAM!” 

Namjoon has to close his eyes from embarrassment of being his date, but then something saves him. 

“BITCH, ME TOO. MOVE!” 

“HANNA AND (Y/N) IN THE BUILDING, EH EH EH.” 

Well, nevermind. 

The crowd parts like the red sea, allowing Hoseok and two familiar looking figures to meet in the middle—each person nodding along to the melody and waving their arms in the air. As if it was a karaoke meet, everyone sings aloud, along to the music. 

“You have my heart. And we’ll never be worlds apart. Maybe in magazines… but you’ll still be my star…” 

 Namjoon smiles at the sight. Hoseok and Hanna are doing their own thing, ignoring the little bags that fall out from Hoseok’s pockets that were, technically, stolen from the other tables. You blend into the crowd, swaying to the melody with Hani on one arm. 

“Because~ When the sun shines, we shine together. Told you I’ll be here forever. Said I’ll always be your friend. Took an oath, Imma stick it out to the end. Now that it's raining more than ever, know that we’ll have each other. You can stand under my umbrella… You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh…”

Namjoon makes eye contact with you. Your eyes widen, surprised from seeing him. With your free arm, you wave him over—to which he can only shake his head, passing up the opportunity of embarrassing himself in front of his old college friends. 

You pull yourself away from the crowd and head towards his direction, eventually taking the empty seat next to him. Without a word, you reach over and grab a champagne glass from the other side, drowning it down in one shot. 

“Ahh,” you breathe out. You point to his glass and the remaining alcohol that glistens from the disco lights. Without another word, Namjoon hands it over to you. He can only watch, as you drown down that glass as well. 

“Well,” he says. “It’s nice to see you too, (Y/N).” 

“Sorry,” you say. “That glass looked too appealing.” 

He lets out another light laugh with a shake of his head. “Seriously though, it’s nice to see you.” 

You hum. “How long has it been? Couple of years?” 

“Yeah, it’s been a bit of time,” Namjoon says. “Glad to see you haven’t changed too much.”

“Glad to see you haven’t either.” You pause, looking back at his, now empty, glass. “Still have a low tolerance?” 

“You already know the answer to that, so why bother asking?” 

“Just ‘cause it’s fun to hear you admit you’re a little baby when it comes to drinking.”

“Ugh, this is just because you were able to build a tolerance from all that bar hopping.” 

“We both did that bar hop.” You scan him with a glint in your eyes. “Something clearly went something wrong.” 

You both laugh. With another nudge towards him, you speak up again. “How’ve you been? Still working at the office?” 

“Yeah, I’m officially a manager.” He rubs the back of his neck. 

“You still making music?” 

“Every now and then,” he says. “Whenever I get the time, I do.” 

You let out a little laugh, grabbing another glass of champagne. “I remember all those tracks you made. Shame that your mixtape never released.” 

“Oh my God.” Namjoon has to close his eyes. “Please never bring that up again.” 

“Why not? They were great.” You take a sip of the glass. “I still have your Soundcloud page bookmarked.” 

Namjoon rubs his face with his face becoming more and more flushed, but he can’t hide his growing smile. “Oh my God, (Y/N).” 

You give him another teasing one in return. “Remember when you used to try to promote yourself on the quad—” 

“Oh my God, (Y/N)—”

You let out another laugh from his red face. Namjoon shuffles his feet and his eyes dart around, trying to find a drink for his, suddenly, dry throat. As if you read his mind, you tip your glass towards him—offering him the rest of your drink. He takes it and takes a small sip, clearing his throat afterwards.

“Anyways,” Namjoon says. “What have you been up to?” 

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” You pause. “You act like you didn’t like my Instagram post two nights ago. You also DM me memes, dude.” 

“Yeah, but that’s different from actually talking to you and catching up.” Namjoon rests a hand on his chest, in mock-hurt. “I’ve been sending those since college and you still don’t appreciate them?”

You roll your eyes but it’s with no malice. “For your information, more is not less. Less is less.”

“Is this your way of telling me to lessen the meme content in our messaging?” 

“Yes.” 

“Damn, that’s harsh.” 

You let out another laugh as he pouts in his seat. “Sorry, Joonie.” 

Your conversation is interrupted, as Hyemi shouts your name from across the room. “(Y/N)! I’M PUTTING ON BRITTNEY, BITCH.” 

“AYY!” You immediately get up from your seat, dancing your way over back to the dance floor. As Hyemi pulls you away, you look back towards Namjoon and give him a little finger wave. “I’ll see you sometime, okay?” 

He smiles back with a small nod, just quick enough for you to see, before you get pulled into the crowd once again. 

December 3nd, 2019

Tuesday, 6PM 

Shoreside Condos

—

Another chime comes from Namjoon’s email. He continuously types, re-organizing and triple checking the calculations of his spreadsheets. 

He sits on the couch with multiple sheets of paper which lay on the unoccupied space of the table and couch, in some type of clean mess. In the background, his flat screen plays a film from some movie channel that he stopped paying attention to a while ago. His only company, Rapmon, lays on the carpet near Namjoon’s feet—practically blending himself into the white, soft texture. The keyboard clicks continue for a couple more minutes, before he decides to check his email. 

Hello Mr. Kim, 

How are you this evening? I am sending this email to let you know there are some adjustments that need to be made to the reports. Below, I have some attachments for you to check. 

Please let me know once they are completed. Have a good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. 

Sincerely, 

Bang Sihyuk 

-- 

Head Manager of the Big Hit Management Team 

Lee Corporations 

Namjoon lets out a sigh. Guess it’s more work for him. Jokes on Bang though—he didn’t give him a deadline. Loopholes are a wonderful thing. 

He shuffles with the papers on the table, trying to find the remote. Once it’s spotted, he lowers the volume. He looks at the overall mess, ultimately deciding it’s better to clean it up, somewhat. As he pushes some of them back into their manila folders, he hears a whine. 

With a scratch behind Rapmon’s ears, Namjoon gives him a little kiss. “You hungry, baby?” Namjoon gives a small smile, as Rapmon pants. “I’ll get some food for my good boy.” 

He lifts himself from the sofa, already abandoning his clean-up attempt. Rapmon bounces alongside with him and they head into the kitchen area. Opening one of the lower cabinets, he easily pulls out the dog food and puts it into the doggy bowl.

Leaning on the countertop, he looks down adoringly at his pupper. “I should probably get something to eat too.” He pats his stomach. “It’s been empty.” 

He pushes himself off and shuffles over to the refrigerator. However, a white card, decorated with lace, catches his attention. He sighs, plucking the card off the refrigerator magnet. 

Join us for the union of Minyoung and Junmyeon! 

January 11th, 2020 @ 5PM

Location: Sowon Temple 

—

Black tie dress. 

Reception to follow! 

See you there! 

Namjoon lets out another sigh, but from the migraine that formed. He’s gonna have to text Taehyung—maybe they can go wedding gift shopping together. Considering how much Taehyung spends, Namjoon is sure to balance out that…. Taehyung-ness. 

He grabs out his phone, sliding it open to his messages. 

Namjoon: yo, did you get a present for Junmyeon yet? 

The reply is nearly instant and comes all at once. 

Tata: oh shit 

Tata: i forgot 

Tata: shall we go shopping soon ? 

Namjoon: you read my mind 

Tata: it’s like we’re soulmates 

Tata: :) 

Namjoon: …. okay 

Tata: i love you :*

Namjoon: and you have now made it weird 

Namjoon: but ily too 

Tata: i’m screenshotting this for the groupchat

Namjoon: and goodbye

He shakes his head, silently laughing at Taehyung’s responses. He’ll make those plans later, once he’s got some more time. It’ll be fun to spend some more time with Tae. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’d hung out. While their time at the ice rink was fun, they spent more time struggling than skating together (well, at least Taehyung was the one struggling). 

But, right now, he’s got more work dumped on him. And he’s hungry. 

Rapmon looks up at him as Namjoon looks down at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” Namjoon opens the fridge without breaking eye contact. “This is for me. You got your bowl, buddy.”

January 11th, 2020 

Saturday, 7PM 

Junmyeon’s Reception 

Enchanted Evenings Restaurant 

—

“Although I am the oldest of our group,” Minseok says. “Junmyeon has taken care of me ever since I became friends with him. I’m sure that everyone in this room, who knows Junmyeon, knows that he has this thing where he cares more for others rather than himself. He’s the mother figure that everyone wants in their lives and we were lucky enough to have him as ours. But now, he’ll finally have someone to care for him this time around, for the rest of his life.” 

He turns to the main table and raises his glass. “I would like to dedicate this toast to Mi Young, on behalf of the exo boys. Thank you for putting up with all of us.” The crowd chuckles. “ And congratulations to the both of you, for finding someone who will faithfully look after you no matter what. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” 

Everyone respectfully clicks their glasses together, taking a sip and going back to their meals and their own little conversations. Namjoon looks up from his glass, seeing Taehyung across the table—chatting away with the other guests. Tae fits well with the others, despite looking out of place in his patterned suit (“It’s Gucci. I have taste,” Taehyung said, when he was picking up Namjoon).

Namjoon glances to the right… where you are seated. You happily drown your glass down, letting out an exhale from the refresher. 

You turn to him. “Do you think I’m allowed to drink more?” you ask. 

“(Y/N),” Namjoon says. “I think it’s better for everyone if you didn’t drink more.” 

You pout. 

Namjoon tries not to stare. 

“You, my friend,” you say with a point of your finger, poking his chest. “Need to loosen up.” You shake your empty glass at him. “What better way than with alcohol?” 

“Have you become an alcoholic? Is that what this is?” 

“Haha, oh so funny as always, Joonie.” 

“You know I try,” he says with a grin. 

He sets down the glass, turning his attention back to his plate—on it lies a pile of chopped lobster topped with little scraps of gold, which is paired with fresh caviar and foie gras sauce on the side. Everything looks so good that it practically glistens in the chandelier light coming from above the table. 

While there are many guests, the venue is actually very spacious. Each table has a good amount of space that the chairs don’t bump into one another when pushed out. And yet, there’s still a large amount of space dedicated to a multicolored dance floor (which has Baekhyun and Jongin written all over it, Namjoon notes). 

Even without the tables, anyone could tell it’s decorated tastefully. Above each table, there’s various lights that provide a nice atmosphere for the guests. The ceiling itself is painted plain white, but if anyone looks close enough there’s little specks of gold that shine against the light. In contrast to the ceiling, the walls were covered with wallpaper. The wallpaper is also white with gold accents, but there are also pearls that popped out of the walls—quite literally popped out. The kids who came with their parents have been feeling up the wall for the past hour or two. 

Namjoon knew the wedding would be boujee, since it is Junmyeon’s, but he’d almost forgotten about how loaded Junmyeon’s family actually is. 

“Who knew my most expensive meal would come from a wedding?” Go Eun says, from your other side. You let out a laugh. “It’s the Kim family, what more did you expect?” 

“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe something corny.” 

“Honey, we’re past corny when we walked through those balloon arches.” 

Go Eun blinks, slowly nodding along as she comes to the realization. “Ah, I guess I never got over the whole senior-junior view I had of him in school.” 

“He’s got that vibe; he seems like a chill mentor.” 

“But realistically speaking,” Namjoon pitches in. “We know that’s far from the truth.”

“Considering how he dances to any Sistar song like (Y/N) to Hit Me Baby One More Time,” Go Eun pauses. “I think all of the guests here know that.” 

“Damn,” you say. “You really had to attack me like that, huh?” 

She gives you an innocent smile that feels not-so-innocent. “Hyerin’s reception videos circulated. What else was I supposed to do with their information?” 

You give her a teasing one in return, before returning to your plate once more. 

There’s a moment of silence at the table as everyone is starting to dive into their meals, except for the silverware that taps the plates and bowls. As the plates start to get cleared, the chatter picks up once more—especially as the newlywed couple makes their way around with Junmyeon holding the train of Minyoung’s dress. Taehyung stirs up the commotion as he sees them making their way over. 

“Here comes the lucky couple!” 

From the sudden, informal announcement, everyone cheers with their glasses—both empty and full—for the newlyweds. 

Junmyeon tucks a strand of Minyoung’s hair back with one hand and, with the other, he holds a glass filled with champagne that’s already lost its bubbles. “Thank you for coming, everyone. We really appreciate your presence here.” 

“It’s no problem,” Namjoon says. “We’re glad to be here.”

“We hope you like our presents!” Taehyung practically yells. “If you don’t, then deal with it because we lost the receipts.” He gives them one of his boxy smiles. 

Everyone gives a light-hearted laugh at Junmyeon’s face. 

“Is everyone okay?” Minyoung asks. She stands behind you and Namjoon, laying a hand on your shoulder. “Is the food good?” 

“Minyoung, this one plate is about the equivalent of my first year tuition,” Yeri says, looking at her. “The food is more than just good.” 

“Don’t worry,” you say, giving Minyoung’s hand a pat. “Everything is great.” 

She lets out an exhale. “I was just a bit concerned because Junmyeon decided the meals without me.” 

“Honey,” Junmyeon says. “The meals turned out great. (Y/N) agrees.” He turns to the rest of the table. “You guys are going to love the dessert.” 

“What’s for dessert?” Yunho asks, from one side of the table. 

“It’s a Golden Opulence Sundae,” Junmyeon says with a beam. 

“It’s got edible diamonds and a sugar forged orchid,” Namjoon whispers to you. “It was super trendy a couple of years ago, but it doesn’t mean the price went down.” 

Your eyes widen. “Goddamn,” you mouth to him. 

“Yeah, he went a bit overboard,” Namjoon says. 

Junmyeon pouts at Namjoon’s words and Minyoung pinches his cheek. Minho makes a gagging noise and Yunho has to hit him to get him to stop. 

“Anyways,” Minyoung says, pouring another glass for you and Namjoon. “Let’s enjoy the evening with a drink—cheers.” 

“Cheers.” 

“Cheers.” 

Around the table, everyone respectively tap their glasses against one another—Namjoon with you and Minho, you with Namjoon and Go Eun. 

“We would love to stay, but we need to get to the other guests,” Junmyeon says. 

“But,” Minyoung says. “Stay as long as you would like. Desert is coming and the cake will be cut soon after. So, please enjoy yourselves—at the table, on the dance floor, the pool out back—” 

“There’s a pool?” Heechul asks from the other side of the table. 

“Yeah, the doors will officially be open after thirty minutes or so,” Minyoung says. “Anyways, mingle and have fun. We’ll be around.”

“Enjoy yourselves, okay?” Junmyeon says with another smile. With his hand on her lower back, he guides her towards the other table behind yours. 

“They’re so cute,” you say with a pout. “I’m glad to see Minyoung with someone good for her.” 

“Same,” Namjoon says. “I haven’t seen Junmyeon this happy since…” He tries to think. 

“Since Sehun paid that one time for dinner?” 

Namjoon’s eyes light up. “Yeah!” He takes another sip of his glass. “I almost forgot about that.” 

“I couldn’t,” you say. “You don’t ever forget it if Sehun pulls out his wallet for you.” 

“Yeah, he only pulls out his wallet for Vivi,” Namjoon notes. “Big mood though.” 

You laugh. 

Everyone gets back to their plates, which now has the dessert and the reception goes on. The conversation flows, between all the guests—at their assigned tables, along with the other tables. Siwon visited Namjoon’s table on many occasions, just because of Yunho and Minho’s seats. Although, Namjoon will admit that their conversations are very impressive (many topics related around politics and social injustices in modern society, which was very impressive to be honest). 

The time continues to pass, but it’s hard to tell with all the conversation going on. While Namjoon is more introverted, he has been very engaged in many conversations with others—especially with you. It had only been about a year or two since you two had actually talked, caught up and all that good stuff. 

You two originally met in college, in one of your classes together—after all, the study group that suffers together, stays together. While Namjoon majored in business, you had actually studied what you wanted. Your drive and extrovertedness balanced with Namjoon’s realism and introvertedness, which created, what you believe to be, an iconic duo on campus (at least with your friends). 

While it is inevitable for people to lose touch after college, you were easily able to keep the connections. With the help of social media, you reached out and managed to keep contact with your close knit group of friends—including Namjoon and many others from college (and probably high school). 

Unfortunately for Namjoon, this also means reminders of the uni days—both good and bad (as previously mentioned: the mixtape promos on the quad)... 

“Expensive Girl was a fucking bop and you know it,” you say, scooping another spoonful of your ice cream. “What did you do with all of those CDs anyways?” 

Namjoon groans, wiping his face as if it’ll get rid of the embarrassment from the olden days. “Honestly, they’re probably in a box somewhere and collecting dust.” 

“Come on,” you say. “You have to admit that those songs were actually really impressive.” You smile at him. “You were really creative. What happened?” 

He sighs, setting down his, now empty, wine glass. “Nothing happened, (Y/N).” He pauses. “Real life just got into the way and… next thing I knew, I stopped making songs.” 

The look in your eyes softens. “Namjoon, you’re one of the most creative people I know,” you say. You lay a hand on his that rests on the table. 

His eyes land on yours. You continue. “You should do what you enjoy, while balancing out the realistic picture.” Your other hand pokes his chest once more. “You, of all people, should know that. Remember what happened sophomore year?” 

Ah, sophomore year. From what Namjoon remembers, you originally came into college undecided. It wasn’t until the beginning of sophomore year that you figured out what you wanted to do. (“Seeing you so driven about your music makes me more driven towards what I want to do,” you said to him. “Even if I suffer to the destination, my happiness afterwards is the most important to me and my future.”)  

Namjoon sighs once more, but it’s more of frustration towards himself rather than exhaustion. He can only say one thing. “Being an adult is hard.” 

You laugh at his statement—your hand unmoving from his, another thing Namjoon tries not to focus on, but he can’t because of the warmth of your hand. Yes, while the two of you are friends, if he said he never had non-platonic feelings for you would definitely be a lie. 

The tap of the mic interrupts his thoughts and the conversations start to simmer down once more. In the front, Junmyeon and Minyoung stand side by side. Minyoung is in a different wedding dress but it’s been shortened and paired with some white flats. Junmyeon’s jacket has been removed and his tie is loosened. 

“Hello?” Minyoung says. “Can everyone hear me?” Her smile grows, as she meets everyone’s eyes and nods. “While people have been able to enter the pool area, it’s officially been thirty minutes since dessert was served.”

“With that,” Junmyeon says. “The pool is officially open, along with the dance floor. We’re allowing song requests, along with karaoke mics. So, go wild.” 

“YEAH!” Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Jongdae simultaneously shout. 

Junmyeon immediately retracts his statement. “Not too wild!” Despite that warning, everyone knows it’s already too late. 

Jongin, Taemin, and Ten are the first ones to enter the dance floor as the music starts. Everyone easily joins in to circle around them and chaos starts to ensue, making space for the elderly to start to leave. As the other guests start to migrate towards the colorful tiles on the dance floor, the younger ones are more on the antisocial side—Yeri joins the table with Mark, Renjun, and her other university friends that were invited as well (considering that most of them can’t legally drink). Meanwhile, Yunho, Minho and Siwon continue their political conversations in another corner as their glasses are consistently refilled by the servers. 

At some point, Sehun simply puts on his sunglasses and holds a bright yellow floatie in one arm (“Sehun, we’re indoors,” Luhan says. “Your point?” he retorts). He walks past your table, saying something about how he needed the hot tub and a bottle of bubbly after this chaotic week—although, the nearly empty strawberry flavored vodka in his hand said a lot more about his lack of current sobriety. 

Meanwhile, you were long gone to the dance floor, being pulled in by Yuri and Hyoyeon. Go Eun was right; something just flips when Hit Me Baby One More Time plays. Namjoon remains at the table, watching the others continuously mingle and dance, as he engages in conversation with Jaebum and Taehyung. 

“You two came together?” Jaebum asks. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “We went shopping together for Suho’s gift and he had no choice because he can’t drive,” Taehyung jabs a thumb towards Namjoon, who’s jaw drops. 

The audacity. 

“I suddenly miss Hoseok as my date,” Namjoon says. 

“It’s nice you all kept in touch,” Jaebum says, ignoring Namjoon’s pettiness. “It’s hard to do that nowadays.” 

“It really is,” Namjoon responds. 

Jaebum and Taehyung nod alongside him in response. At this moment, Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae are walking past them with black buckets to which splashes could be heard with each movement. 

“Hey guys!” Taehyung calls. 

Baekhyun turns towards the table and the three make their way to Namjoon and them. “Hey, Tae! Long time no see,” he says. “Nice to see you two again, thanks for coming,” Baekhyun says to Namjoon and Jaebum. “Did anyone wanna come to the pool?” 

Namjoon and Jaebum shake their heads. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” Namjoon says. 

“Same,” Jaebum says. “I forgot about it.” 

“Okay, good,” Chanyeol says. “Because you won’t want to swim in it later.” 

“What?” Jaebum asks. 

“We’re dying it pink,” Jongdae says. Their eyebrows raise in curiosity, but no one dares to ask. “Although, I think Kyungsoo has been catching on.” Jongdae’s eyes dart around, trying to catch sight of the short, but frightening man. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum says. “Not to be that guy, but, where’s your wife?” 

“She passed on the wedding invitation, so she’s at home with our daughter,” Jongdae says. His head tilts to the side and his eyes narrow. “Why?” 

“Just trying to understand why you left the house without your impulse control,” Jaebum responds with a smile. 

Jongdae pouts, but it’s ignored. 

“Wanna join?” Baekhyun asks. He has an innocent smile on, but his eyes are full of mischievousness. 

“I'll pass,” Namjon says with a raised hand. “But thanks for the offer.” 

“Same,” Jaebum says. “I don’t plan on messing with Kyungsoo.” 

“I’ll go with,” Taehyung says. “It’ll be interesting to see how all of this’ll unfold.” 

He waves the other two goodbye and points to Namjoon. “Text me if you want to leave early, but I’ll be at the pool, okay?” 

Namjoon nods. “Please be careful.” 

“Always!” 

Jaebum waits until they’re an earshot away. “I have a bad feeling about this.” 

Namjoon can only shrug. “But can you stop them?” 

“You got a point there.” 

From the other side of the venue, there’s a crash, followed by a splash, coming from the pool area and a yell louder than the music (which could only be Kyungsoo). 

“YOU BRATS!”

“Well,” Namjoon says. “They lasted longer than I thought.” 

Jaebum checks his watch. “Two minutes?” 

“Exactly.” 

No one is really sure of what happened with the dye (except for those who were actually in the pool). But it’s hard to concentrate on that when, out of the pool area, Jinki and Kibum emerge from the door with pool noodles, attacking one another with them with unnatural, pink frosted tips. Kyuhyun and Johnny are attempting to separate them, but are seemingly failing to do so. Jinki’s pool noodle hits Johnny, knocking him into a vase—luckily, he manages to catch it before it falls. 

… That is until Ten knocks into him as he shakes his ass along to Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie. 

“Oof,” Jaebum says. “That’s… that’s rough, bro.” 

“Hopefully, no one notices?” 

“Hopefully.” 

Another server comes around, silently filling their glasses once more. 

“Thank you.” 

“Thank you.” 

They clink their glasses together in a silent toast and take a sip. Jaebum sighs, leaning back to his (well, your) seat. He takes another glance at the dance floor, spotting Heechul and Momo dancing their asses off. You would think that as dates they would be dancing together, but it looks more like they’re competing. Eventually, he spots you with some of the others. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t come here with (Y/N),” he says. 

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise. “What? What’d you mean?”

“I just mean..” He pauses. “It’s not bad that you two are friends,” he starts. “But, I was betting you two would be together… or, at least, in college.” 

Namjoon doesn’t know what to say, but Jaebum continues. “You two just had a lot of chemistry, and still do!” He pauses. “Not a lot of people can say that.” 

He nods. “Yeah, you’re right.” Namjoon looks out, easily spotting you from the crowd. It’s hard not to notice you as you twirl and dance around with some other guests—especially since someone managed to get you into a duck floatie. 

“I think it’s (Y/N) though,” he continues to say. “(Y/N)’s just sociable and… that outgoingness just makes people surround (Y/N).” 

“Is that what led you to (Y/N)?” 

From Jaebum’s question, Namjoon’s lips automatically pursed. “I-I guess it is.” 

Before Jaebum could say anything else, Give It To Me by Sistar starts to play and there’s a shout. 

“YES!” 

Before anyone could stop him, Junmyeon shimmies his way past the guests and towards the center—loudly singing along and doing all the dance moves. 

Without either one of the boys noticing, Minyoung stands behind them with another champagne flute that’s half empty. 

“Why hello, Mrs. Kim,” Jaebum says, looking rather cheeky. 

“Hello boys.” 

“So, Mrs. Kim,” Namjoon says. “What are you going to do about that?” he asks, pointing to the monstrosity that’s happening underneath the multi-colored disco ball.

“Uh, I don’t know,” she says. She swirls her glass and drowns it down. “Because I suddenly don’t know him anymore.” 

They laugh. 

“Well, that’s your husband now,” Namjoon says. “That’s all on you.” With those words, he tilts his glass towards his mouth, emptying it out once more for the night. 

January 27th, 2020 

Monday, 8AM 

The Roasted Bean

—

The sound of chatter and the smell of coffee fill the air as Namjoon steps into the familiar coffee shop. While some of his fellow co-workers sit at separate tables, typing away on their laptops and drinking from their espresso cups, they all collectively ignore his presence—too preoccupied with their own matters. His body automatically places himself in line; his head poking up every once in a while to get a glance of Yoongi behind the counter. 

Since it is early and they are located in the business district of the city, Namjoon expected for the line to be fairly long. As the time continues to pass, Namjoon quietly hums along to the songs that play on the morning radio, occasionally nodding along with the beat. He gets closer and closer, eventually giving a smile at the frowning barista. 

“How are you doing that?” Yoongi asks. “It’s, like, dawn.” 

“It’s eight in the morning,” Namjoon points out. “Not exactly dawn.” 

He brushes the comment off. “You’re here earlier than usual. What happened to 9 to 5, Dolly Parton?” 

“Nothing really,” he says with a shrug. “I just have some extra work to do and I should be able to leave an hour earlier.” 

Yoongi makes a face with nothing short of disgust. “I still don’t understand how you’re able to just go to work like that.” 

“You’re at work though.” 

“Okay, but here, I get free coffee.” 

“Isn’t that stealing?” 

“Not if I mess up,” he says with a wink. “Speaking of messing up orders, how can I mess up yours?” 

“The usual is fine,” Namjoon says. “Thanks, Yoongi.” He gets a grunt in response, so he takes that as his cue to head over to the side where the stirrers, creamers, and sugar lay. As he absentmindedly fiddles with the sugar packets, he goes back to humming along with the songs. 

A tap on his shoulder interrupts his thoughts. A familiar grin greets him. 

“I thought that was you,” you say. 

His smile mirrors yours. “Hey, (Y/N). I almost didn’t recognize you in the daylight.” 

“And I almost didn’t recognize you without alcohol in my system.” 

Namjoon laughs. “What are you doing here?” 

“You’re asking me what I’m doing in a coffee shop?” 

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.” 

You let out a laugh of your own. “Well, I just was visiting my friend, who works down the street, and I heard this place has the best coffee.” 

His eyebrows raise. “Well, consider me pleasantly surprised.” 

“Thanks?” You let out another laugh, smiling as you move yourself towards him, along with the sugars and creamers. 

You both end up fiddling with the little packets, nodding along to the music together silently. Namjoon glances towards you, eventually nudging you to get your attention again. You hum in response. 

“You still prefer the french vanilla creamer?” 

“Yes, sir,” you say. You pluck it from his hands with a twinkling look in your eyes. 

He glances over again, catching your eye. He lets out an awkward chuckle. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you sing. “I just can’t believe you still remembered that.” 

“Considering how we spent most of our college years over-caffeinated,” he says. “It’s safe to say I remember it.” 

“Over-caffeinated?” You think for a moment. “Sounds about right.” You pause for a moment. “Oh!” 

Namjoon slightly jumps from your random shout, which you do apologize for. 

“Sorry.” You put a hand on his arm with a not-so-innocent smile. “I just remembered: are you going to Moonbyul’s wedding?” 

He thinks. It had been a while since he received the invitation, but he definitely remembers getting it. “Yeah,” he says, after a moment. “Yeah, Jin and I are planning on going together.” 

“Still can’t drive?” you ask with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. 

“You know what,” he says. “I can’t and there’s no problem with me not having a license.” 

“I didn’t say there was.” You sniffle your laughter, as he pouts. 

“Don’t license-shame me.” 

“Not a thing, Joonie.” 

Before he can reply, he’s interrupted by Yoongi, who calls for him. 

“Namjoon!” 

You give him another smile, before heading back to the line. “I have to get back in the line. I’ll see ya. Thanks for the creamer.” 

Before he heads back to the main counter, he gives you a little nod.

He tries to ignore Yoongi’s cheeky grin. “Don’t say anything.” 

“Okay,” Yoongi says. “I’ll ask instead. Who was that and why do you look all slap-happy?” 

Ah, semantics. They were going to get him some day. Namjoon sighs. “That was (Y/N).” 

“From college (Y/N)?” 

“College (Y/N).” 

“Ahhhh.” He smirks. 

“Can you not?” Namjoon groans.

“Didn’t you tell me you used to have a crush on (Y/N)?” 

“Can we not?” 

“Not what?” 

“Elaborate.” 

“Oh, okay. So,” Yoongi starts. “From your exact words: (Y/N) is technically your first love, but you never confessed out of fear—of both ruining your friendship and also rejection, which is only natural. You thought you had a chance at graduation, where you knew the ties could or could not be severed. And yet…. you still didn’t confess and, now that you’ve run into your old flame…” His eyebrows raise in question. “How are things, ‘Joonie’?” 

Namjoon’s eyes narrow at him in speculation. “You remembered those details rather vividly.” 

Yoongi shrugs. “My therapist says I have good listening skills.” 

“You really have an answer for everything,” Namjoon mutters. 

“And yet, I’m the one who’s a high school dropout.” 

For once, Namjoon blanks, before deciding to change the subject. “I thought you said my order is ready.” 

“It is.” Yoongi sets the large cup onto the counter and gives a bright smile that is filled with sarcasm. “Bone apple tea.” 

“Thanks?” 

“It’s lingo,” he says. “Keep up with the times, man. You’re younger than me.” 

Namjoon groans, but he can’t suppress his grin. “Have fun with the morning rush. I’ll see you later, man.” 

“See ya.” 

On his way out, he gives you another wave goodbye, to which you wave back.

As he officially leaves the cafe shop, he makes his way back to the office. While his mornings are rather shitty, Yoongi does tend to make them brighter—but seeing you, on top of that, might have given him more energy than the coffee does.

February 14th, 2020

Friday, 8:30PM 

Moonbyul’s Reception

Celebration Ceremonies Wedding Hall 

—

“I think we can all agree that Moonbyul has a stronger image,” Hyejin says. “Despite the more masculine stereotype she’s categorized in, Moonbyul is a very loving, sweet, and tender person.” She pauses. “Although, Heewon probably already knows this.” 

She turns to the rest of the guests. “People say that love is supposed to make you feel nervous—your heart will pound and the anxiety will make you sweat. But, I think, love means sharing yourself with another person and you’re willing to work together to build that life with one another. Byul is someone you can share anything with—she makes everything feel more comfortable. Rather than making you nervous, she makes you feel at ease.” 

She pauses. “Heewon, you’re very lucky to have someone so dedicated and hardworking by your side. And, while I may not have known you for very long, I know you’ll take great care of her. Congrats to the MoonWon couple and may your marriage be blessed for all eternity.” 

Light applause is given throughout the room and Hyejin makes her way back to her seat at the main table, with the other bridesmaids and immediate family members of the two brides. 

Light conversations begin once again at each of the guest tables—Moonbyul and Heewon remain seated at their table, having greeted the guests earlier as they entered the reception hall. In the background, classical music plays softly (although, live music will continue to play after the cake has been cut). 

It’s been calm so far, but who knows what will happen once the bar’s open. 

Namjoon takes another sip from his water glass, listening as Seokjin rambles on about the perfect ramen. Next to Jin, there’s Hani and Yura, who look half confused and half-amazed at how much he knew about food. On the other side of Namjoon, Junghwan and Myungsoo are eating away at their plates, practically cleaning them with their utensils as they scrape the food off (despite that, Namjoon swears he heard both of them ask if doggy bags were doing to be given out). 

“There’s this cute little shop that Namjoon and I used to go to all the time. Remember, Namjoon? It had that seafood theme with the cute decorations?”

Namjoon’s head turns from his name being mentioned. “Yeah?” He blinks, recalling the cute fish tanks they had along the wall. Granted, the restaurant also sold sushi and he always felt guilty whenever he ordered the sashimi platters. “We should go back there sometime. They really do have the best ramen there. You should give it a shot, if you get the chance.” 

“I’m always up for food,” Hani says. “I’ll take the girls with me someday since you’re giving it such high praise.” 

“Well,” Namjoon says. “Maybe when Hyerin gets back from her honeymoon.” 

“Very true.” 

“It does sound like a cute date spot,” Yura adds. “Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to find someone to go with here.” 

“Ooh,” Seokjin says. “I’ll share the address with the newlyweds too. They can go on cute dates together!” Seokjin turns back to Namjoon with a pout. “We don’t go on any dates anymore.” 

“I’m busy at work, you know this.” 

“You can still try to make time like you do with Jimin, at least.” 

“I didn’t know you were dating,” Hani says, glancing between them. “Have you been together long?” 

Namjoon nearly chokes on his food from the laugh that escapes his throat. 

“We’re not dating,” Seokjin answers. “Namjoon’s got his eye on someone else.” Namjoon gives him a questionable look, which he ignores. “As a little birdie has told me.” 

Damn Yoongi and his big mouth. 

At that moment, there’s some microphone feedback coming from the front. 

“Hello?” Yongsun and Jaehwan stand on the stage and Yongsun carefully taps the microphone in her hand. “Hello, everyone. Can you all hear me?” 

“Yes!”

She smiles. “Well, I hope you’re all having a good time. We're just about to cut the cake, but, before that, Jaehwan and I have prepared a duet for the new couple for their first dance! I hope you all enjoy it and another congratulations to our brides.”

Jaehwan gives a thumbs up to the DJ in the corner, who gives another in return and starts to play a soft melody. The lights dim and, from Namjoon’s line of vision, he sees Moonbyul stand, bowing to her wife with a hand out to invite her to the dance floor. The two make their way to the middle and slowly start to sway together. Others start to join in too, listening to the soothing music provided by Yongsun and Jaehwan. 

Namjoon nods along to the song, along with the many others who stayed at their tables. He takes a glance around, spotting some of the other guests and that’s when he sees you with Wheein and Eric. An automatic grin appears on his face as he sees you. The three of you are holding hands and slowly swaying to the beat with bright, proud smiles as you all look at the lovely couple. 

He glances to the side, only to see Seokjin with a smug face. He feels the heat creeping back up his neck and towards his cheeks. Namjoon clears his throat, shifting in his seat from his friend’s eyes. “What?” 

“I think you know what.” 

“No, I don’t.” He clears his throat once more, feeling it dry up. “Stop staring at me like that.” 

“Staring at you like what?” 

“Like what?” Seokjin tilts his head in a mocking manner. 

Namjoon sighs as he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“No,” he says in a singsong tone with a higher pitch. “I don’t~” He gives another look to Namjoon, speaking up again, back in his normal tone. “That’s what you sound like right now. You can’t lie to me and you know it.”

Namjoon lets out another sigh. He does know it; he really can’t lie, especially to one of his best friends. Because of this though, he’s going to be teased endlessly. “Do you remember (Y/N)?” 

“Of course I do,” he says. “How could I ever forget the person you pined over for the entirety of college and afterwards?” 

“Can you please not mention that part?” 

“How could I not, though?” Seokjin tilts his head with a little smile that’s nothing short of mischievous. “You never confessed too, so that just added onto the secondhand frustration I had whenever you two were together.” 

“Oh my God,” he mutters. “I’m just gonna stop talking altogether.” 

“No, no, no,” Seokjin whines. “Please continue, I’ll be quiet.” 

“Okay,” Namjoon says with a sigh. “I may… or may not, have ran into (Y/N) a couple of times at some other weddings and the coffee shop—” 

“Which is where I got my info—” 

He gives him a look, which shuts him up. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Proceed.” 

“(Y/N) is also here—” 

Seokjin squeals, clapping his hands together—unable to contain his excitement. “Where? Where? Where?” 

“(Y/N)’s with Eric and Wheein right now.” 

“So? Go join them; talk to them, chat ‘em up.” 

“Dude, you’re a great hype man,” Namjoon says. “But, not that great. (Y/N) seems busy, I shouldn’t interfere with that.” 

“What you lack, my friend, is the confidence.” He pauses. “Do you need some of mine? Because I’d be happy to rub some onto you.” 

“No, thank—” Even though Namjoon (halfway) rejected him, Seokjin is already rubbing his hands onto Namjoon’s face and, at that, with a bright smile as he smushes his best friend’s face. 

After a couple of seconds, Seokjin pats Namjoon’s face, admiring his ‘work’ for a second. “There. You are set.” He gives Namjoon a little push. “Now go.” 

“Now?” 

“Of course now; they’re starting to cut the cake and (Y/N)’s gonna be alone.” He makes a shoo-ing motion with his hands. While Namjoon would rather let his anxiety take over, Seokjin’s got a point. Yongsun and Jaehwan have finished their duet; Moonbyul and Heewon have already moved on to cutting the cake, which have taken most of the guests’ attention—even Hani and Yura have moved themselves towards the front (granted, anything with food will draw them in). Better now than never. 

Namjoon stands up, straightening out his shirt and tightening his tie. Seokjin gives a thumbs-up and a pat on the butt, before Namjoon sets off towards your table. 

He takes long strides with, little to some, confidence. By the time he gets near your table, he stops behind you and lightly taps your shoulder. 

You turn around, greeting him with a bright grin. “I knew you’d be around somewhere!” 

“You were looking for me?” He tries not to look too shocked. 

“Considering how you said you were going to be here… Yeah, I kind of was.” You turn back to Eric and Wheein. “Scootch over, y’all. Namjoon’s got a seat next to me.” 

“Don’t even worry about it,” Eric says. “We’ll be out of your hair in a second.” 

“We’re gonna go get some cake and then we’re gonna go to the bouquet toss too,” Wheein says. “I also have to stop Hyerin from running into the kitchen to get more of the food. Don’t worry though, we’ll be back.” 

They both get up, waving you both goodbye, and catch up with the rest of the crowd. 

Meanwhile, you turn back to Namjoon. “So, what brought you over?” You lean your chin on your hand. “Was it my sparkling aura you felt the presence of?” 

He laughs, responding with a teasing tone of his own. “What else could it have been otherwise?” He shifts in his seat. “Are you having fun?” 

“You know me, Joonie,” you say with a laugh of your own. “I’ll find a way to have fun.” You eye him. “Are you having fun? Or are you planning on being anti-social again?” 

“Again?” His eyebrows raise. “How dare you. I am an introvert, not anti-social. I came to you this time.” 

“Uh-huh,” you say with crossed arms. “This time being the key phrase. Don’t you have other friends?” 

“I have other friends.” He pouts. “I came here with Seokjin.” 

You gasp. “I haven’t seen him in so long. I need to catch up with him; I miss him.” You poke your head around towards the dance floor, waving to Seokjin—who is currently doing his infamous traffic dance underneath the disco lights. 

“Wow. Really feeling the love here, (Y/N).” 

You turn back to him with a teasing smile and poke your finger into his dimple that he doesn’t even bother to try to swat away. “I’ve missed you too, Joonie.” 

He quickly takes your hand off his face, hoping you didn’t feel the heat that rises to his face. 

“We can make plans too,” you say with a nudge. “You know, instead of meeting at all these weddings.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “That’d be a lot easier.” 

“Give me your phone.” 

Namjoon reaches into his pocket, easily pulling out his phone and hands it over to you. He lets you tap around on it, until he realizes something. “Wait, what are you doing? I have your number.” 

“I’m checking your schedule,” you say. “Makes things easier to plan.” You look up from the screen. “Especially since you’re an important businessman.” 

He closes his eyes, in an attempt not to laugh at the ridiculous statement, but the grin on his face gives his emotions away. 

You scroll through his calendar, before landing on a date. “I’m free for lunch on Wednesday.” You dangle the phone in front of him. “Think you can make some time for me?” 

“(Y/N), I can always make time for you.” He really hopes that didn’t sound as desperate as it did. 

However, he doesn’t think you care—as he spots the large grin on your face. 

“Great,” you say. “It’s a date.” 

Namjoon is unable to say anything, as he’s sabotaged by his own friend. 

Seokjin dances his way over, pulling him onto the dance floor. “Need to borrow him, thanks! I’ll catch up with you later, (Y/N)!” He gives a light push to Namjoon, who’s trying to keep up with Seokjin’s dance moves. “How’d it go?” 

“We set a date?” He tries to collect his thoughts, but he’s having issues with processing it. “I think?” 

“See what happens when you have a little confidence?” He interrupts before Namjoon can answer. “You’re welcome.” 

“Oh my God,” he mutters with disbelief. Sometimes, he really can’t believe the amount of confidence that this one man has. 

“Now keep dancing, that’s how we’re gonna make our way closest to the bouquet. I’m catching that and no one can stop me.” 

“Seokjin, why are you like this?” 

“Oh hush, you love me.” Seokjin does a little body wave to skim past the other guests. “Y’all better watch out ‘cause the king is coming!” 

February 19th, 2020

Wednesday, 12:30PM 

Emerby Eateries 

—

Namjoon’s fingers tap against the table, checking his watch for the time once again. He takes another sip of from his water glass, oddly feeling the anxiety hit. Does this count as a date? You did say it was a date, but… is this really a date? 

Before he can linger too long on the thought, the seat in front of him is taken—by you. You’re slightly out of breath and, from the sight of your hair being slightly out of place, he can assume you did a small run on your way here before you were any more late than you already were. 

“You’re late,” he says with a singsong tone. He picks up the menu, pretending to glance over the options. “You really haven’t changed since college.” 

“Tsk, tsk, Joonie.” You brush off his statement with a wave of your hand. “You’re just too punctual. I was just a couple of minutes late.” 

“More like ten minutes late.” 

“Potato, potato.” You grab your menu, glancing through the appetizers. “Time’s an illusion anyways.” 

He tries to stop his laughter, but one look at you and he breaks his fake anger. 

“Did you order anything without me?” you ask. 

“Of course not,” he says. “I figured you would want to share anyways, so you can decide on what you want.” 

“And jack the bill up? I’m not that type of person.” 

“Stand down,” he says. “Not what I meant.” 

You chuckle. “I’m just pulling your leg. But, seriously, is there anything you’ve set your heart on ordering?” 

“Well, the sandwiches look good.” His tongue clicks as he contemplates on his order. “I usually get those whenever I’m here, so I’ll probably get one. Do you know what you want?” 

“Not really, I’ve been stuck on the appetizers. Did you want to split one?” You set your menu down, but your eyes don’t leave it. “They got fried pickles and I kind of want to try them. They also have those cheese balls that those mukbang youtubers eat.” You look up at him. “I kind of want to try those, not gonna lie.” 

He smiles at the way your eyes sparkle at the thought. “I’m not stopping you, you know.” 

“I know, but will you eat it with me? I’ll even pay for them.” 

“Damn, (Y/N),” he says with a hand on his chest. “That’s how I know your love is real.” 

You let out another laugh at his words and Namjoon couldn’t help but admire how carefree you look. While the two of you were a chaotic duo, the chaos was more drawn out from your side—not really chaos, it was more of your impulsiveness. But, it doesn’t mean he didn’t enjoy those memories with you. In fact, he cherishes them the most from his college memories. 

He still can’t believe he let you convince him of breaking into the campus gym’s pool. There was also that time when you two were drunk and you told him you wanted to try rock climbing—at the end of the night, you took an hour to climb up to his top bunk, declared success, and passed out once your head hit his pillow. You also broke into a classroom with him, to explain your theories on how birds work for the bourgeoisie (while the theories were insane, he had to admit you had a really convincing argument, which was probably due to all those essays you had to write). 

“Do you know what you would like?” 

The server’s question makes him snap out of his thoughts. He looks at you expectantly and you do him the solid by answering first. 

“We’re gonna need some more time for the entrees, but could I get a couple of appetizers first?” 

“Of course, whenever you’re ready.” 

“Okay, so we’re going to start with the fried cheese balls with some fire sauce on the side, along with some fries.” 

“Anything to drink?” 

“I’m good with water.” You look to Namjoon. 

“Uh, me too. Water’s fine.” 

You both thank your server before she leaves and turn back your menus when she’s out of sight. There’s a moment of silence as you both deliberate on what to get. Namjoon’s already figured he would just get what he usually does a while ago; his menu is shut and left on the side as he waits for you to figure out what you want. He can only shake his head; you’re still just as indecisive as before. 

Light pop music plays in the background and his fingers tap along with the beat. He moves his focus to the window where people continue to pass by on the busy city street. It’s lunchtime, so he expected the foot traffic to pick up a bit (and it did)—which was why he wanted to go a bit earlier. After another moment, he turns back to you, only to see you already looking at him. 

“Having fun?” you ask with a quirk of your lip. 

“Always.” He leans back in his chair. “You figured out what you want?” 

“Yeah, it took a bit but I figured it out.” 

When the server comes over again, the appetizers are served and you both order the entrees. You and Namjoon split the appetizers, nearly finishing them until the entrees were ready. Between all this time, you two actually catch up. It’s more than just the casual conversations you’ve had at those weddings—you’re both taking more time to listen to one another (in a more sober conversation) and actually talk about the things you didn’t manage to get to. Next thing you knew, it’s already been nearly an hour. 

“Can you believe that we’re actually adults living in this capitalistic society?” You set your glass down. “We’re doing things like paying for bills.” 

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s called responsibilities.” He lets out another laugh at the face you make from his word choice.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting. Don’t make me choke.” You take another sip of your water. “You know one way of knowing there’s the transition from childhood to adulthood is attending more funerals than weddings.” 

“It seems more like the opposite for us, don’t you think?” 

“Oh my God,” you groan. “You’re so right though. The amount of weddings I’ve been attending…” You shake your head, as if to convince yourself the number is lower than it actually is. “It’s kind of ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my friends, but Jesus Christ, it’s like they all had a pact to get married around the same time and decided to leave me out.” 

Namjoon sighs, playing with the leftover sauce on the side. “I’ve been to, like, five last year and I’m pretty sure it’s going to keep coming.” 

“I really feel you, Joonie. I really do. I have a couple more I have to go to later.” You let out a sigh. “Curse me for being so friendly with others.” 

“Haha, this is what you get for being popular.” 

“I am not popular; I just happen to be a bit more extroverted than you.” 

“More like a lot,” he says. “You definitely used to be a popular kid in high school.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with a couple more friends?” 

“No, no, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a compliment: people enjoy your company and that’s how you managed to keep the ties you still have…” He pauses. “Like me.” 

You give him another teasing smile. “Glad to know you enjoy my company.” 

“It’d be awkward if I didn’t, considering I decided to have lunch with you.” 

“Oh, yeah, by the way, how long are your lunch breaks?” 

“Since I’ve moved up to management, I get more time, so about an hour or so—give or take.” 

Your eyebrows raise. “Wow, look at you.” 

He tries to suppress the blush from the look you give him. 

“And despite all of this,” you continue to say. “You still don’t have your license?” 

“Why are you bringing this up again?” He groans. 

“It came up organically when I was with Seokjin,” you say. “You know... After he managed to steal the bouquet from Sunmi’s hands.” 

“So,” he says with a glint in his eye. “You did talk to Seokjin that night?” 

“Yeah, I did. Found out a little bit about what you’ve been doing after college.” 

“So you talked about me?” 

For the first time today, the blush starts to creep up your face. Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the sight; for once, he seems to have the upper hand. You clear your throat, before taking another sip of your near-empty glass. 

“Don’t try to change the subject,” you say. “You still don’t have your license.” 

“I-I just never had the time and the office is close to my apartment…” He tries to find the words (excuses, if he’s really being honest). “All of my friends have their licenses, so I don’t see the appeal of getting one.” 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a uncommitted chauffeurs.” 

“Oh my God, (Y/N),” he says with a laugh. “I don’t have that much money yet.” 

“Yet. That’s the word to focus on.” 

You both laugh again. 

“Well, I would love to be your chauffeur anytime,” you say with another grin. “That is if you pay me for gas money.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. “Thank you for the offer though.” 

“It’s no problem.” You let out a sigh, but it’s more relaxed than tired. “I’m serious though. If you need a ride, you can always ask.” 

“I know, I know,” he says. He swirls his glass, trying to distract himself before he lets out his next words. “I know I can count on you anytime.” 

The sparkle in your eyes returns and Namjoon has to stop his heart from skipping a beat at the sight. 

March 10th, 2020

Tuesday, 4PM 

Shoreside Condos

—

Hey! Just a friendly reminder to RSVP to our wedding! 

We’d love for all of you to join! 

See you then! 

- Anna Young and Eric Nam

Namjoon squints at the email and its neat, curly font. If he didn’t have Eric’s email saved, he definitely would have thought it was some type of subscription he signed up for and completely forgot about from the words alone. 

He makes a mental note to dry-clean his fancy suit before the time comes. Although, realistically speaking, he has more than enough time to do so. He can probably (and most likely will) procrastinate on it.

As he tries to make the mental arrangements, in the background, the television plays on another generic movie channel that doesn’t play anything remotely worth paying attention to (he might make an exception for The Hunger Games though). Rapmon sits on the couch, next to Namjoon, with his front paws and head laying on Namjoon’s legs. One hand pets Rapmon softly and the other hand hovers over his laptop’s keypad as he quickly RSVP’s for the wedding and reception. 

Namjoon easily fills it out with one hand, humming along as he taps the individual keys. However, he realizes that there is a problem after submitting the form: he has no ride. From what he can recall, the others probably aren’t going, considering these were two separate friend groups—so there’s no point in asking anyone for a possible ride. Then again, he could always get an uber or carpool with someone else. 

He sucks in a breath, praying someone he knew would be on the guest list. Going back to his email, he looks over those who were sent the same email.

While he is acquainted with over half of the people, there isn’t anyone close enough he could ask. Jackson’s most definitely going with his long-time partner and there is no way Namjoon wants to be between the two of them. On the other hand, Amber is probably going with a group of people and he’s not really up for a conversation with a bunch of people he’s unfamiliar with. On top of all that, Eric is very sociable, so there are bound to be guests from all sorts of places (considering the unknown names from the email). 

Although....there is another option. 

He quickly picks up his phone, scrolling through his contact list. His finger stops as he hovers over your contact. He taps on it, but can’t find the courage to hit any button. The contact photo of you, smiling with a bundle of puppies (from that time you wanted to pet a bunch of puppies at Petco), is what his eyes linger on the most. 

While the rational side of his mind knows you would be ecstatic to go to Eric’s wedding with him, the irrational side tells him that he shouldn’t bother you. What if you think he’s just using you for rides? Are you just going to drop him off? Should he invite you as a date? But, most of all, what if you just flat out reject him? 

Rapmon senses his master is upset and tilts his head up at Namjoon as his paws start to pat him—at least, his leg—to make him feel better. Namjoon can only smile, patting his head in response as a silent thanks for the attempt to comfort him. However, because of that… 

“No!” 

One of Rapmon’s paws hits the call button and Namjoon can feel ten years of his life being shaved off as the tone starts to ring. 

“Ahhh!!!” 

Out of panic, he drops the phone quicker than a hot potato. Luckily for him, it lands on the soft carpet below. He looks to Rapmon, who looks around, panting—without a care in the world, as if nothing was wrong. 

But right now, everything is wrong. 

Before Namjoon could even pick up the phone, nevertheless hang up, the ringing tone stops and there’s a soft response. 

“Hello?” 

He stumbles around, trying to grab the phone, but hitting the coffee table with his foot and falling on his ass. “Oh shi—” 

“... Hello?” 

“Sorry!” he shouts aloud. He quickly puts himself together, sitting back on the couch and leans down to grab his phone. He clears his throat, before speaking. “Hello?” 

“Hey, Joonie.” He can hear your grin over the phone. What’s up?” 

“Oh, nothing much..” He lets a small exhale, trying to calm himself from the embarrassing situation. “Um, what’s up with you?” 

“Nothing really?” He hears some clutter as you are shifting the phone on your shoulder. “I’m just at home. You know, doing this and that.” 

“Oh, oh. Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you—” 

“Namjoon, you can never bother me,” you say. “What’s up though? Not that I mind you calling me a bit out of the blue.” 

He opens his mouth, unable to really find the words. “So, uhm… This is kind of stupid.” 

“More stupid than you cutting that onion?” 

“That was one time.” His eyes close, trying to repress his laughter and the embarrassing memory. “Let it go!” 

There’s a laugh on the other side of the line; your laugh is infectious, causing Namjoon to burst into a laughing fit as well. 

“Um, okay,” he says. He lets out a sigh. “This is, like, way earlier than I originally intended.” 

“Come on, Joonie. Spit it out; it’s just me.” 

That’s the problem though: it’s you. But he can’t say that without it sounding weird. His lips twist to try to find the right words. “Do you remember Eric?” 

“You mean the guy I met at Moonbyul’s wedding?” 

“Yeah, him.” 

“Yeah, I remember him. Why?” 

“Well, he invited me to his wedding…” 

“Oh, good for him.” 

“Yeah.. but I was wondering…” Maybe he shouldn’t ask, but he does anyways. “If you could give me a ride?” 

You let out a small laugh. “Of course I can give you a ride.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, when is it?” 

“It’s in April, which is, like, a month away, but—” 

“Considering how I can’t even plan the next day, I’m sure I’ll be able to give you a ride, like, a month later.” 

“Well,” he says. He can feel his shoulders tense a bit. “It doesn’t just have to be a ride…” His fingers absentmindedly toy with a decorative button on his couch. “Did you… did you want to be my plus one?”

There’s a bit of silence and Namjoon can only swallow, feeling all the moisture in his mouth. 

“... It depends.” 

“On what?” 

Your response is a bit softer from the original teasing tone you had before. “It depends if you really want me there.” 

He relaxes, easily leaning back onto the couch. “Of course I want you there, consider it a trade deal.” 

“A trade deal?” 

“I get a ride and you get free food?” 

You hum a bit into the phone. “I like that preposition, but could I refer to this as a favor?” 

“Considering that it is a favor,” he says. “Sure—I owe you one.” 

“I’m gonna hold onto that against you then.”

“I’m completely fine with that, (Y/N).” 

“Okay, just keep in touch and text me the details when you get the time.” 

Before you can hang up, he speaks up once more. “Hey, (Y/N)?” 

There’s a bit more shuffling, but it stops. “Yeah?” 

“Thanks.” 

“It’s no problem, Joonie. You can count on me anytime.” 

He smiles into the phone for the nth time and looks down at his feet, feeling the blush return. “I know.” He pauses. “I’ll-I’ll text you.” 

“You better, Joonie. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Bye.” 

“Bye!” 

His phone screen turns black for a second, before returning back to your smiling contact image. His grin grows and he slumps back further into the couch, practically beaming once his body is bully molded with the couch. He turns back to his fluffy boy and plays with his fur, giving him thorough pets. “Such a good boy. I shall retrieve you a treat soon.” 

Rapmon barks happily at his spot, continuing to pant as he moves his eyes on the television screen. 

Meanwhile, Namjoon gets back to his spreadsheets, minimizing his personal email tab. He manages to do his tasks much happier now that he’s got something to look forward to. 

April 3rd, 2020 

Friday, 7:30PM 

Eric’s Reception

Bright Rings Event Venue 

—

“Anyone who knows Eric,” Eddie says. “Knows that he’s very easy-going. He’s able to get along with anyone, which is how he’s able to meet so many people and make so many friends. So, when I first introduced Eric to Anna, I thought this was nothing more than another just friends situation. Little did I know was that I would be standing here… as the best man for their wedding.” 

He moves himself closer to the main table, where the bride and groom are seated. “As Eric’s brother—and manager—I did not think that he would be married before me.” The crowd laughs light-heartedly. “Don’t worry, I’m not bitter about it. I’m glad Eric has found someone who’s willing to spend their life with him, especially after getting to know him.” He lets out a small laugh as Eric pouts from his seat. 

“Anyways, Anna—” He raises his glass. “This toast is for you. Consider this your official welcome to the Nam family.” 

The guests click their glasses with the others, exchanging pleasantries along the way. Namjoon comfortably smiles at you, and vice versa, before drowning a mouthful of the bubbly champagne that you two had previously cheered with. The chatter picks up once again as Eddie sits down next to his date at the main table with the newlyweds. Everyone resumes their conversations, slowly building up to, nearly, maximum volume. Birds of a feather flock together—Eric’s loud personality attracts many other eccentric personalities. 

Namjoon takes a look around, taking note of the other guests. There’s a wide variety of people; while some are from college, from what he could recall, most of them are unfamiliar faces and unrecognizable place settings. Although, he should thank Eric for his place setting—many of those at this table are faces he does know. 

Jackson and his long-time girlfriend and recently engaged fiance, Hua Yi, were seated (luckily) on Namjoon’s left side and you were placed to his right. On your right, you sat next to Amy Lee and Amber—who were like Eric’s non-biological sisters. You were making easy conversation with the other guests, both familiar and non, as per usual. Maybe it’s due to your presence, but Namjoon has been able to easily converse with others as well. 

Jaehyung, another close friend of Eric’s, is currently at the front of the stage to provide entertainment with his guitar. He sings a sweet melody, contributing to the light atmosphere—above all the chatter and light conversation happening. 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to play the guitar,” you say, leaning closer to him. “Maybe I should’ve joined the band kids in high school to pick up a little something.” 

“Well, I did band…. kind of.” His face contorts, remembering the piano lessons he was forced to participate in due to the school’s curriculum. “But, trust me when I say that it did nothing for me.” 

Your eyebrows raise. “Nothing?” You lean in closer, with an elbow propped on your knee. “You almost became one of those famous soundcloud rappers. I think you should give yourself some more credit.” 

“Yeah, well, I can only play chopsticks,” he says. “So, were those four years really worth it?”

“Is anything from high school really worth it though?” 

You both chuckle as the old memories from high school started to occupy your minds. To think that Namjoon had really spent four years, not knowing what the hell he was doing—only to study for four more years to survive life and work a stable job with a stable paycheck... Time really does just fly. 

“Oh my God,” he says. “High school was awful.” 

“College was fun though.” You let out a relaxed sigh as you lean back and your eyes nearly sparkle from the fond memories you’d made way-back-when. “That’s the time period anyone would go back to.” 

“I would prefer the experience without the debt though.” 

“Thank God for scholarships.” You give him a little nudge. “Am I right, Mr. 148-IQ?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at your words in a playful manner.

Before he can respond back, microphone feedback plays through the speakers, causing most to wince at the sound. Eric and Anna have entered the stage area, nearly blocking Jae—who simply waves at the crowd with his head poking out from behind the couple. 

“Hello?” Eric says. “Can everyone hear me okay?” 

There’s a collective murmur and he speaks up once more. “Okay, we’re good. Before anything, let’s give another round of applause for Jae!” 

There’s a light round of applause for Jaehyung, who gives a big smile and wave. Eric continues to speak after it dies down a bit. “Thank you all for coming once again. We both really appreciate that you took the time to be here for us.” 

“Right now, we’re going to have our first dance,” Anna says. “So, we’re gonna slow things down with the musical accompaniment of our very own Ailee!” 

Next to you, Amy raises from her seat and makes her way to the stage. You, along with Namjoon, clap for her—cheering her on as she walks towards center stage. She chats a bit with Jaehyung as the two of them start to set up. After a bit, she does a bit of harmony with Jaehyung and, shortly after, the sweet, soft melody of the guitar starts to play. 

Anna guides Eric towards the middle of the dance floor, who’s got a grin the size of the entree plates; she places his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders, leaning into him as the song continues to play. Other guests slowly join them as well, including Jackson and Hua Yi. 

In a couple of minutes, you and Namjoon are the only ones left at the table. You two continue to chat for the time being, even as the music changes and time continues to go by. The other guests come and go by your table (even Mark came by, but the thumbs-up he gives Namjoon made him quite flustered); some had left a bit sooner because of prior engagements they had arranged for the next day. 

By this point, it’s past three hours—the cake has already been cut and the bar is officially open for the rest of the evening. The loud personalities had just gotten louder as the night got longer. 

Yongsun’s alcohol tolerance has been hit as she swings on the stipper pole with a plate of cake in her hands. On the other hand, as the songs started to get more upbeat, Amy abandoned her post at the stage and headed towards the bar—where she’s been doing her own personal wine tasting (and karaoke session). Amber had briefly joined her, before deciding to lead an impromptu concert that may or may not have resulted with her currently crowd-surfing. Jackson is with Peniel… doing whatever they usually do (although, Namjoon definitely recalls Peniel holding very tightly onto a Naked smoothie bottle; something about getting naked at the reception). 

The chaos goes on, even with the two of you in your own little bubble. The only difference though… is the alcohol intake as the time had passed. Considering how many glasses you had drowned, along with the ones Amy kept recommending to you and the ones brought by other servers, Namjoon is starting to remember how good your tolerance is. Despite that, you are definitely starting to feel it hit hard all at once. Meanwhile, he’s suffering silently from a mere three glasses. 

You drown another glass of your white wine. “Ahh.” You lean back in your chair with closed eyes. “My guy, I definitely cannot drive for a while.” 

A giggle spills from his lips as the alcohol starts to flow throughout his system.  “I can’t drive at all.” 

You laugh along with him; his giddiness is contagious. “Are you drunk?” 

“Nope.” He pops the p, giving you a wide beam that showcases his perfect, shiny teeth.

You raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. You can’t focus on anything from seeing how red his face is. You can’t resist yourself and lightly tug on his ears—which are also a similar shade—to pull him a bit closer to you. “Joonie, you’re so cute when you’re drunk.” 

He feels the blood rush more into his cheeks, but he can’t help his smile growing from the compliment. Even as you’re squishing his cheeks together, he doesn’t pull away from your touch. 

“AYO!” 

Both of your heads turn towards the stage. Anna’s clearly had her fill of alcohol too. Her hair is in loose curls from the tight updo she previously had. She currently stands on the stage, the mic in one hand and her bouquet in the other; her wedding dress was already ripped—but it looks as if it was chopped with some basic kitchen knife—to a shorter length. 

“It’s time for the flower toss!” She waves it around, dangling it in front of the crowd. “Anyone who wants this can come and get it!” 

A small group of people start to push their way towards the front as Anna turns her back towards them. 

You divert your attention back to the man in your hands. “I’m gonna go.” 

“Will you be back?” 

“Very soon.” You look dead serious. “Swearies.” 

He nods his head (to the best of his ability, considering his face is literally in your hands) and watches on as you head towards the crowd, easily fitting in with the others. He leans his chin into his palm, watching you engage with a bunch of people, who are literal strangers to you. It’s amazing how you can easily and naturally insert yourself into a group of people. He knows he probably looks like some type of idiot, but, right now, you are the only thing that matters. 

Back at the stage, Anna counts, leaning back little by little with a swing of her hands. “3! 2!” 

Just as she tosses the flowers over her head, Mike yells. “Yeet!” 

“Mine!” Peniel calls. 

But Matthew gets there first. 

“Interception, bitch!” 

He knocks the bouquet from its original path. It was almost like a high school basketball match from the way it happened.

Next thing you know, a couple of grown ass men were starting a brawl over an overpriced floral arrangement. Jamie interferes the two, squeezing herself in between the two idiots and easily whacking them, effectively getting them to stop. 

“Not the tiddies!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” she yells. “This isn’t about you!” With each word, she uses the flowers to hit each of them. 

While everyone’s distracted, Jackson rips the flowers from Jamie’s hands. He makes his way over to Hua Yi, easily getting down on one knee. Before he says anything, Hua Yi rips the flowers out of his hands and yells. “We’re already engaged, you idiot!” There’s no harm in it, considering how wide her grin is and the blush that’s apparent on her cheeks. 

Eric, eventually, takes over the stage once more—his tie loose and tossed carelessly over his shoulder. Despite it being his wedding, he looks like he’s  seen some stuff happen. He stands next to Anna with the mic, which he definitely had to pry out of her hands, and simply sighs as he watches the chaos. “This is cancelled; y’all are banned—I’m calling the police.” 

Of course, everyone ignores his empty threat and continues to brawl over the flowers. 

Namjoon’s attention is taken away from the scene, as you move past the chaos, and head back towards him. You arrive back with a pout, immediately slouching back in your seat. He rests his chin on the table, inching closer to you with eyes that sparkle like an anime character. 

“I didn’t get it,” you whine. 

He pouts with you, feeling your pain. “I’m sorry.” 

You let out a sigh and proceed to take another shot. A drop spills from your lips, trailing down your neck and Namjoon’s eyes unconsciously follow it. 

“Joonie,” you say. 

His eyes go back to yours. “Yes.”

“I need ice cream.” 

“Ice cream?” His eyebrows furrowed together in concentration and thought. “They only have cake.” 

“Then we need to go to the ice cream, Joonie.” 

His eyes widen in a comedic size reeling you’re correct. He snaps his fingers, lifting himself from the table, and pointing directly at you. “You are a genius.” 

“I fucking know, bro.” You pause as you realize your predicament. “I can’t drive.” 

“Neither can I.” 

“Not like that,” you say. “I’ve had like…. more than five glasses.” 

“Really?” His mouth gaps open. “I lost count after the tenth one.” 

“Ten?!” You gasp. “Did I really drink that much?” 

“I don’t know, (Y/N). I said I lost count.” 

You blink at him, slowly coming to the realization of how much alcohol was actually in your system. “Oh my God.” Your pout returns. “But I want ice cream now.” 

He hums, rocking a bit in his chair, like an old man out on the front porch, to find some way out of the complication. His eyes finally met yours. “I think I have a solution.”

Friday, 11:45PM

After Eric’s Reception

Midnight Munchies

—

Your giggle overlaps with the sound of the bell that rings as you two walk into the late-night dessert shop. The workers greet you cheerfully, which you both respond back to. You are looking at the glass that showcases all the different flavors, whereas Namjoon tries to read the menu to the best of his ability—but his squinting shows how bad his vision is at the moment. 

Back at Bright Rings, after some common sense had slowly started to come back, you both searched up ice cream places nearby. Luckily, Namjoon found a place that served ice cream at this hour and it was close enough to walk to—resulting in an improvised, evening stroll which was just the two of you laughing at dumb jokes along the way (he may or may not have used some of Seokjin’s dad jokes along the way). 

Due to the lesser amount of drinks in his system, he sobered up a bit… On the other hand, yours still remained. But nothing can’t be fixed with a little bit of ice cream (at least, that’s what you said).

“Do you know what you would like?” 

Your attention has been turned to the server behind the counter. “Uh, not me.” Scooting closer to Namjoon, you give him a nudge. “Joonie, do you know what you want?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says with a slight frown. “What’d you think I should get?” 

You let out a small hum as you think, before pointing to the fruit flavors in the middle. “You like fruit flavored ice cream, and you definitely need to try something new, so I say you should get the melon.” 

“Okay,” he says with a nod. “I trust you.” He turns to the worker. “Can I please get a scoop of the melon ice cream?” 

“Would you like any toppings?” 

“Uhh.” He turns to you. “Should I?” 

“If you want some, then get some.” 

He hesitates a bit. “Strawberries?” 

The worker raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” 

Turning back towards the counter, he answers. “Yes.”

He receives his ice cream, waiting as you order yours and pays when you’re done—despite your protests. You two thank the staff and add some change into the tip jar, before heading out to go back to the venue to sober up a bit more. 

For a bit, you two are enjoying your ice cream in silence as you walk side by side. You both walk for about a block—his footsteps match yours and yours matches his. 

You’re the one who speaks up first. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

“It’s just ice cream, (Y/N),” he says. 

“Still,” you start to say. “Considering I practically pushed you into inviting me out—” 

“You didn’t push me. I wanted to invite you.” 

You look to him, simply giving him a small smile. “Thank you.” 

The two of you continue your walk back to the venue, but you abruptly stop and tug on Namjoon’s sleeve. 

“What’s up?” 

You point to an open park and, with another hand, you lightly shake his arm like an excited child. “Let’s go in there.” 

He smiles at the sight. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Your eyes gleam at him and you’re practically wiggling with excitement, before you sprint over towards the park gates like a child. 

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he follows behind you. By the time he’s caught up with you, you’re already settled underneath a nearby tree with a view of the lake. He heads towards you in long strides and silently seats himself next to you. 

You’ve already finished your ice cream—its remains left on the side. Namjoon manages to finish his, which isn’t hard considering how it’s half melted and less cold. White noise plays as you two sit back and relax. There’s a couple of bikers, dog walkers, and other couples that occupy the public space. But, for most of the time, it’s just the two of you in silence. 

It’s broken once you let out a loud breath and fall back onto the grass. You shift a bit, trying to make yourself comfortable, and tap the empty space behind him. “Come on, Joonie. It’s just me.” 

“Okay, okay,” he says. “Just give me a sec.” 

He leans back, feeling the prickly grass brush against his neck, and rests his hands behind his head. You frown from the distance, easily pulling his arm and resting your head on it, scooting closer to him. 

His breath gets caught in his throat from your proximity, but he doesn’t move away—almost in a near frozen state as you continue to lean on him. Right now, all he hopes is that you can’t hear how hard his heart is anxiously beating in his chest. 

Instead, he tries to focus on the clear evening sky. It would have been nice for the stars to be out, but this is just as fine (although, the view can be done without all the red helicopter lights that pass by). 

You let out a sigh, feeling a lot more sober compared to before. “Time is weird, huh?” 

“What’d you mean?” 

“It’s just—” You pause. “One moment, we’re just college students messing around and now we’re adults, doing things like jobs and going to the post office or something.” 

He chuckles. “The post office?” 

“Ugh.” You lightly hit him to get him to stop laughing. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh of his own. “I get it. It’s just… we’re grown ups—” 

“Ew, please don’t say that.” 

He chuckles again. “Look at us though. Could you have even imagined telling your younger self that the most eventful thing you’ve done this week is go to a wedding?” 

“Weddings can be fun,” you try to defend. “There’s free food and good music.”

“Good music?” 

“Better music than all those cringey ass middle school mixers.” 

“You’re right about that,” he says. “I think I’ll die if I hear another remix of a top 40 hit song again.” 

“You know which remix I hated the most?” 

“Which one?” 

“Love You Like A Love Song club remix.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh from your answer. “I didn’t know that was a remix.” 

“It is and it’s absolutely terrible. They did Selena so dirty.” 

“Did they now?” 

“Absolutely, Joonie. It’s a fucking monstrosity.” 

You look dead serious, which is probably what makes him laugh even harder than before. His laugh dies down to a chuckle. There’s another moment of silence afterwards, the two of you focusing your attention on the calm atmosphere from the silence of the park and the calm waters that lightly splash from a safe distance. 

The silence is interrupted as your phone goes off. Namjoon watches as you simply take the phone that was placed next to you. The light of the phone shines against your features briefly before you turn it back off. 

You make eye contact with him and he has to turn away, clearing his throat from being caught. “What’s up?” he asks. 

“Nothing really,” you say. “I just got a reminder for another wedding I have to go to.” You wave your phone, despite the blank, black scene. “I have to RSVP later… at some point.” 

He hums, understanding the situation. Suddenly, you sit up as you shake him lightly, causing him to sit up as well. 

“What?” he asks with apprehension. 

There’s a glint in your eyes that Namjoon is unsure as to whether or not he likes. 

“Remember that favor you owe me?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You wanna come to my friend’s wedding with me?” 

He leans back with a hand on the grass, contemplating whether or not he should. Would this count as a date? Nevertheless, an unofficial third date? 

He does owe you a favor too… 

So, it makes sense for him to accompany you to return the favor. 

He finally looks to you, whose head is tilted towards him in curiosity with a smile that shines brighter than the sun and eyes that sparkle more than any star in the sky. 

“Come on, Joonie. It’ll be fun.” 

“Count me in,” he says. “Consider it a favor being repaid.” 

Your smile turns into a beam before you settle back onto the grass with your eyes closed. “Let’s stay here a little longer.” You sigh. “I’m going to keep you for a bit, before I have to share you again.” 

He lets out a sigh of his own, but you don’t hear it. 

He’s already yours for the taking.

April 18th, 2020 

Saturday, 9PM 

Tiffany’s Reception 

Rosey Pink Palace

—

“I’ve known Tiffany for over ten years,” Jessica says. “I’ve lived with her, worked with her, and that meant learning a lot about her, as a person and a professional. She’s someone who finds the balance between idealistic and realistic. She has been looking forward to finding her Prince Charming and now she gets to have her fairytale ending. I have never seen Tiffany as happy as I’ve seen her with Kaun Yin.” She pauses, looking at the two. “So, let’s raise a glass to congratulate the Pink Princess for finding her Prince Charming.” 

The other guests give a light round of applause for Jessica, who gives another wave and smile—before she takes back her seat at the main table. Conversation is sparked once again amongst the guests. 

At your table, Namjoon makes small talk with some of the others at the table (mainly those who he’d previously met at Junmyeon’s wedding). Despite the fact that this is your friend’s wedding, which is filled with literal strangers and acquaintances, he’s managed to mingle fairly well without your guidance. But that’s also the reason why he’s been dragged into a conversation with another table—i.e., the table behind him. 

“Tiffany and I went out for ice cream once and she basically shamed me for not getting sprinkles,” Evan says. “I’m betting her cake is going to be the most colorful thing in the venue.” 

“The pinks aren’t colorful enough for you?” Nichkhun asks with a teasing smile. 

Namjoon lets out a laugh. “It’s called the Pink Palace, what other color did you—could you have expected?” 

“I thought maybe Kuan Yin would convince her to other colors,” Evan says. He lets out a sigh, swirling his wine glass. “I blame my optimism.” 

“If you know anything about Tiffany,” Nichkhun says. “Then you would know that no one could convince her out of something once her mind is set.” 

“How long have you known her?” Namjoon asks. “I bet it’s been some time now.” 

The handsome man ponders for a bit. “Probably about half a decade now,” he says. “Another one of my friends knew her and… we’ve been friends ever since.” 

“That’s a long time,” Evan says. “I’ve only known her for a couple of years. She helped me out with some of my Youtube videos.” He sips on his glass. “She did a makeover for me once.” He turns to Namjoon. “How long have you known her?” 

“Oh, I’m just a….” He tries to think of the word. Technically, he’s a date, so he should say date…. right? Something inside stops him from saying so though. “I’m just a plus one.” 

“Oh?” Nichkhun says with a tilt of his head. “Of who?” 

At that moment, you take back your seat next to Namjoon. You easily settle back in, giving him a smile, before noticing the other two. “Sorry, there was a line at the bathroom. Did I interrupt something?” 

“Not really,” Evan says. He points to Namjoon. “Is he with you?” 

“Yeah,” you say with a smile. “He’s my date.” 

He nearly chokes on his water at your words, but your smile just grows when you look at him. Before he can respond, the conversations come to a bit of a pause as the newlywed wife gets up from her spot, stealing the crowd’s attention. 

Tiffany makes her way up the main stage with a bedazzled, pink microphone in one hand and her dress in the other; Kuan Yin follows behind her with a hand holding the rest of her train, making sure she doesn’t trip on her way up the stairs. 

“Hello?” She taps on the microphone to double check. “Everyone, thank you so much for coming. We’re so glad you were able to make it. Let’s give one more round of applause for the maid of honor!” 

There’s another round of applause for Jessica and, once it dies down, Kuan Yin speaks into the microphone that remains in Tiffany’s hands. “She’s done a lot for us this past month and we’d like to thank her again for her hard work.” 

“Right now, we’re preparing for the cake cutting!” she says with a giggle. “Our wonderful servers are getting the cake ready and it will soon be out!” 

More light applause breaks the silence once more and, in a second, the two servers emerge from the kitchen with a rolling cart. 

On top of the cart is a three-tiered cake, various shades of pink are dotted around and smeared to look like a sophisticated art palette. Edible, at least what Namjoon thinks, glitter is decorated along the side and sparkles in the light. White frosting is decorated on the edges and sprinkles top them off. 

Well, Evan was right about one thing; it is colorful. 

You lean over towards Namjoon. “I’m betting there’s glitter inside the cake too.” 

“I’m willing to get into that bet too,” Nichkhun says. 

Namjoon and Evan laugh. 

On the other hand, Tiffany and Kuan Yin are already cutting the cake and passing it to the servers, who are immediately placing it on trays to serve to the other guests. You let out a little cheer once yours arrives. Next to you, Bora takes pictures of the slice that sits on her plate, showing them to both you and Na Eun, who’s sitting at her other side. 

“I’m glad she got the red velvet,” Bora says. 

“Yeah, it fits the aesthetic,” Na Eun replies. “And it definitely screams Tiffany.” 

You pick at yours a bit, splitting the cake to see the rest of the batter. “I totally called it. I knew there was gonna be glitter inside!” 

Namjoon just shakes his head, before grabbing a hold of his fork and diving into his dessert. 

As the cake is cut and distributed, the conversation builds up again and the sugar has started to hit. Your plate is cleared, but Namjoon can’t get past all the sprinkles (which is why they’ve been abandoned on the side of his plate and you took that chance to poke some fun out of him). 

In the midst of all the chatter, the newlyweds return back to the stage, along with Jessica, after the cake-cutting—with Taeyeon behind them, who has begun to set up the stage. 

“I would just like to thank all the guests, once more, who are here to support Tiffany and Kuan Yin,” Jessica says. “Right now, we have Taeyeon, another bridesmaid, who will be singing the song to their first dance!” 

Another round of light applause is given as Taeyeon gives a smile and wave. Meanwhile, Tiffany and Kuan Yin have arrived in the middle of the dance floor, looking at one another with so much love. Namjoon couldn’t help but be a bit envious. 

“Congratulations once more to the happy couple,” Taeyeon says. “This song is for you—I hope your happiness will carry on for the rest of your lives.” 

The guitarist starts to strum to a soft melody and Taeyon’s soothing voice starts to move throughout the venue. Other guests start to make their way to the dance floor as well, joining the slow dance. Namjoon moves his head along to the calm tune, swaying to it with his eyes closed. 

He hears your chair move and he peaks an eye open, only to see you standing with a hand out to him. 

“Would you like to join me for a dance?” 

“I thought we agreed I should never be dancing,” he jokes. 

You pout, putting your hand down. “We’ve been to so many weddings and haven’t danced once.” You put your hand out once more, wiggling your fingers underneath his chin. “Is little Joonie afraid?” 

“We both know I’m not the best dancer.” 

Your pout deepens and you take your hand away again. He has to stop himself from leaning back to your touch. 

“That’s your insecurity talking,” you say. “Besides you don’t know until you try.”

He lets out a sigh, hiding a smile, and wordlessly puts out his hand for you. “Okay, (Y/N). I trust you. Please lead the way.” 

Your pout turns back to a smile, easily grabbing his hand and leading him towards the bright tiles where the other guests are dancing. 

Taking the initiative, as per usual, you put his hands on your waist and lightly place your hands on his shoulders. He hopes you don’t notice how shaky his hands are, or how much more sweaty his palms have gotten. His heart pounds even harder in his chest from the close proximity.

He let out an exhale, trying to keep it under his breath to avoid hitting your face with his glittery cake breath. Despite being friends for the longest time, Namjoon can’t remember a time he’d been this close to you. There had been a couple of times when you would drunkenly cling to him or the time you asked for a piggyback ride… But he’s never seen you like this upclose. 

Under the sparkling lights, he can make out your features. Your eyes shine with excitement and anticipation, but he can’t tell from what. The way the slope of your nose dips is pretty, he notes—he’s never noticed. Your lips… they practically mock him. 

He can feel his throat feeling dry again. Where are the champagne flutes when he needs them? 

Even as he tries to avoid eye contact, your eyes don’t leave his face. A teasing smile appears when you take notice of his darkening cheeks. 

“What’s wrong?” you jib. “You’re doing good. Are you focusing all of your brain cells into your dancing?” 

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s without malice. “Haha,” he says. “You know I didn’t have that many to begin with.” 

“You have 148 IQ.” 

“Let it go, (Y/N).” He sighs. “Let it go.” 

This time you roll your eyes at him, giving him a light shove. “You’re literally so smart. You need to embrace that more.” 

“Don’t get too cocky on my behalf,” he says. “I think I got burnt out by the time we graduated.” 

“Everyone gets burnt out,” you say. “Whether it’s emotionally, physically… Life has a way of doing that to you.” You lean a bit closer, settling your hands on the back of his neck. “What you choose to afterwards is how you decide its impact on you.” 

He straightens up a bit, but doesn’t necessarily move away from you, putting himself in a more comfortable position. “You don’t ever seem burnt out,” he says. “I wish I had that endless energy. I might actually be able to do something productive with my life.” 

“Hey,” you say. “You’re doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Downplaying your abilities.” You let out a sigh. “You did it, not even, two minutes ago. You haven’t even stepped on my foot; you’re going just fine.” 

He feels the heat on the back of his neck, hoping you don’t say anything about it. “Not yet, at least. Have you forgotten that tango class I accidentally registered for?” 

You grin from the memory. “Considering that we were able to grow closer from it and it was required, not accidental… I have not.” You tilt your head at him. “But did you forget?” 

“Forget what?” 

“How much you improved by the time the semester ended.” 

“I don’t know, (Y/N),” he says. “I didn’t get worse and that was all I was aiming for.” 

“Sure, you weren’t perfect, but you were pretty good by the end of it. Admit that, at least.” 

“Fine, I was pretty good at it.” He looks directly at you. “Satisfied?” 

“Not really, but I’ll take it.” 

The two of you sway for a bit, listening to the music and enjoying each other’s company. At some point, you lean against him with closed eyes. He smiles to himself, subconsciously pulling you closer and breathing in the faint scent of your shampoo. Letting out another sigh, he can’t help but think of himself that he could get used to you in his arms. 

April 28th, 2020

Tuesday, 4PM 

The Roasted Bean

—

“Do you want to come to China with me?” 

You choke on your tea. “Shit,” you manage to cough out with. 

Namjoon scrambles to pass you the napkins and can only look at you with concern as you continue to cough. He waits for you patiently, expecting this kind of response from you.

When you had agreed to meet up with him for coffee, Namjoon said to himself he was going to plan what he would say to you… cut to the day of and he had planned nothing except, well, that. 

Damn, procrastination really doesn’t stop. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. You dab the corners of your mouth, trying to wipe off the remains of the tea that spilled from your lips. Your hands settle on the table as you look at him incredulously. “Did I hear that correctly?” 

“In hindsight, maybe I should have provided some context.” 

“A little would have been nice,” you say with a slight shrug. 

He lets out a sigh, shifting in his seat. “I’m going to Jackson’s wedding,” he says. “... which is located in Hong Kong. I made the reservation awhile back, so I took a couple of vacation days to go to it and join them in the festivities. I even got Jungkook to dogsit RapMon, but, then again, that could easily go downhill. But, I thought, you know, since we’re, like, wedding buddies, you might want to go with me?” 

“Wedding buddies?” you ask with a raise of your eyebrow. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.” You take another sip of your tea. 

“It’ll be fun?” he says with an awkward smile. “Besides, you know Jackson.”

“I’ve met him a couple of times, yeah.” You take another sip from your cup. “I obviously wasn’t close enough to get an invite, but I know him.” You try to think, as if you were pondering the pros and cons. “I do know some people who were going to be in the wedding too.” 

“You do?” He shouldn’t be surprised, but couldn’t help the curiosity. 

“Yeah, there’s Mark. There’s also Jinyoung and Youngji.” 

“Even if you didn’t know anyone,” he says. “It’s not like you won’t make new friends.” 

You give him a shy, but proud smile in return. “I do adapt well.” Your eyebrows round from a realization. “Wait.” You give him a confused look. “You were originally planning on going to China…. by yourself?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks with a slight pout. “Is it a bad idea?” 

“No,” you say. “Rather the opposite.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“How do I say it?” you mutter, more to yourself than aloud. “I guess—it might just be because I know what you’re like.” 

“... Elaborate.” 

“It’s not supposed to be a bad thing. It’s just that—I say this with affection, okay?” You clear your throat a little and lean back into your seat. “You don’t really leave your comfort zone, which isn’t a bad thing—it’s just a bit surprising that you are willing to leave the comforts of your home.” He doesn’t get the chance to respond; you continue to talk. “But, another thing I know is you’re fierce loyal, so it’s not necessarily that surprising. Even then, it’s a good surprise because this might be good for you.” 

There’s a brief pause as he thinks to himself, absentmindedly swirling the remains of his coffee from his glass. You’re right (with both of your points). It’s not that he’s offended, or mad. It’s just that… you’re right. That’s it. 

He knows he’s more of an introvert, which isn’t a bad thing—he just takes a bit longer to adjust to new surroundings and unfamiliar people. He’s very self-aware of it rather than self-conscious about it. To be honest, he really didn’t think things through all the way; he couldn’t say no to Jackson, especially considering how close they are with one another. The thought of brushing up on his Chinese also crossed his mind momentarily, but this trip is really more about supporting Jackson and Hua Yi. 

“Namjoon?” 

He freezes, snapping out of his thoughts. “Sorry, I just, like, spaced out.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just lost in thought.” He clears his throat. “What were you saying?” 

“Nothing of that much importance, but—” You pause. “I just think this would be good for you, you know? You’d get some time off from work, get together with your friends, explore a new place, etc.” 

“It’s just a week or so,” he says. “It’s not much, but… it’s something.” 

“Yeah, but you never know.” 

He hums, agreeing with you, as he taps his fingers lightly against the table. The tapping stops. “Wait, you never answered my question.” 

“Wait, what was the question?”

  He chuckles. “Did you want to accompany me to Jackson’s wedding in China?” 

“Well,” you drag out, fiddling with your napkin. “I would need to see all the details, figure out a couple of things, but, overall…” You practically beam at him. “I’d love to.”

May 13th, 2020 

Wednesday, 9AM 

East Asian Airlines

Incheon International Airport

—

You nearly elbow him as you try to settle into your seat. Your neck pillow barely hangs on your shoulders, as you reach over to adjust the incline and decline with one hand and manage your downloaded playlist on your phone with the other. 

“Whoa,” Namjoon says, trying to escape from your flailing arms. “You know this isn’t an overnight flight, right?” 

You let out an exasperated exhale that’s far more dramatic than it needed to be. “Joonie, comfort is always a priority.” 

“I didn’t say anything was wrong with comfort,” he started to say. “I’m just saying it’s a bit much for a four hour flight that you’re 100% going to fall asleep on.” 

Your jaw drops. “The audacity.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

Your jaw promptly closes at his words, your lips twisting to the side. “No,” you mutter.

He lets out a laugh, patting your head as some type of reconciliation—messing it up a bit. “Sorry, I only speak the truth.” 

You grumble in your seat once more, playfully glaring at him with a petty look in your eyes. Without breaking eye contact, you lightly slap his hand away and start to fix the mess he created on your head. “Says the man who told Taehyung he looked handsome after his home haircut, but okay. Pop off.” 

His eyes narrow at your sarcasm, but he doesn’t say another word. 

While you fiddle with the light and air conditioning functions above, he plucks out an airline magazine from the seat in front of him—in an attempt to ignore the numbness of his long legs due to the small, cramped area he’s been provided. 

Curse this capitalistic society and the stupid economy seats. 

He flips open a page, glancing through. Most of the pages are promotions for products that no one really needs. There’s also an absurd amount of pillows that they were insisting to be sold. Who needs a pillow that can work as a lap-desk? Or a bendable neck pillow that can be twisted into a hugging pillow? There’s also a pillow that can be folded into a miniature pillow. These are all awful, he thinks. 

As he inwardly questions and critiques each product, he fails to notice that you’ve finished settling in, tugging on his jacket to get his attention. 

“What’s up?” he asks without looking up. “Finally settled?” 

“Say all you want, Joonie, but when I’m napping like a champ, you’ll be restless in your spot like a chump.” 

He stifles his laughter, raising his eyebrows from your words, flipping through the pages without actually looking through them. “Okay, (Y/N). Whatever you say.” In his peripheral vision, he can see you pouting from his lack of reaction. 

You lean back in your seat, taking another deep breath. “You know, I think this is the first time we’re traveling together, isn’t it?” 

“I think it is.” He looks at you. “This is our first trip together.” 

“Well, first overseas trip.” 

“First overseas trip,” he says with a hum. “You think there’ll be more?” 

You smirk. “Only if this one is a success. But, for now, we’re just wedding buddies.” 

“Wedding buddies?” He lays a hand on his heart in mock hurt. “We’ve known each other for years and this is what our relationship has come to?” 

“You defined it first,” you say with a poke of his chest. “If anyone is to blame, it’s you.” 

His lips are pulled back—half frustrated at himself and half disappointed. Before he can retort, the bell has been rung and the attendant’s voice comes on over the intercom. 

“All passengers, please take your seats as we are taking off at 9AM sharp.” 

Another bell rings and the seatbelt image flashes on. The attendants go around, checking the seatbelts and others begin to start the safety procedures. Namjoon tries to remember it all, but eventually finds himself accidentally tuning out the information. Sensing his panic, you remind him that it’s also in the same pocket he’d been grabbing magazines out of. 

After a little while, the plane starts to ascend. Both you and Namjoon wordlessly look out the window, taking in the view as the buildings get smaller and smaller. Once the captain had announced that passengers are now allowed to roam about the cabin (with reason, of course), you lean back in your seat and plop in your other headphone. 

“Wake me up when we’re descending?” you ask. 

He nods, letting you play your music and close your eyes. About twenty minutes pass and you’re already asleep, But, your neck pillow is still barely hanging on your shoulders. He manages to adjust it comfortably for you, without waking you up—he’d call that a victory for his clumsy ass. 

To pass some time, he goes through some more magazines, eventually getting bored of them. He should’ve downloaded a playlist or something; granted, you did nag him a bit to do so at the terminal gate because you didn’t want him being bored on the plane. 

As usual, you were right. 

He looks over at you once more, before deciding that he should nap too. 

If he’s being honest, he was too nervous last night to get any sleep at the thought of spending, nearly, an entire week with you… in an unfamiliar country. He really didn’t think these things through. On one hand, it’s normal to invite long-time friends on trips and go to events together, platonically. On the other hand, he technically had feelings for you. But, he also thought those feelings had died down… until he actually started to talk to you again. 

Deep down, he knows the feelings never really died but that’s a conversation he’s not ready to engage in. But, he’s also aware that he’s stupid and lacked the brain cells to even think of the possible cons that would come when he invited you to an overseas wedding...

Sleep, Namjoon thinks. Sleep is great for avoiding problems like these. 

He lets out a long sigh, settling into his seat with a close of his eyes. 

Yes, sleep is the best solution. 

...

Ding. “Passengers, you will need to return to your seats soon as we are close to our destination.” Ding. 

As Namjoon starts to regain consciousness, the light from his window that shines on his face stirs him awake. He lets out a sigh, lifting his head from yours as he rubs his eyes. You remain asleep on his shoulder with your headphones still intact, but your neck pillow sits uselessly in your lap. 

He’s suddenly awake and aware of your current position. He unconsciously clears his throat, instantly feeling thirsty, causing you to shift a bit closer to him. 

The intercom comes on once more. “Once again, passengers, if you could please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we’re going to begin to descend soon.” 

From the announcement, he lightly shakes you. “(Y/N),” he whispers. 

When it doesn’t work, he shakes you a bit harder. “(Y/N).” 

You let out a groan from being awoken. “Ten more minutes.” 

He shakes you again with a bit of a laugh. “You don’t have ten minutes.” 

“Give me ten minutes then.” 

“No, wake up.” 

“No.” 

“(Y/N),” he whines. “Wake up.” 

You let out another groan, reluctantly opening your eyes—immediately shutting them from the bright lights of the afternoon sky. “Are we there yet?” 

“Nearly,” he says. “Why did you think I woke you up?” 

“To torture me?” 

“I wouldn’t do that to my precious wedding buddy.”

“Damn,” you say. “Your sass levels are up.” 

He laughs in response. 

Your conversation is interrupted as the bell rings once again, the attendant’s voice filling the air. 

“All passengers, we are descending to our destination.” 

You let a small squeal of excitement from the official announcement, leaning out towards the window to take in the new sights. He can’t help but smile at your childlike wonder, moving himself out of the way for you to take in the scenery as the clouds start to part. 

“We apologize that there will be a bit of turbulence, so if you may all please fasten your seatbelts for your safety. Once again, we are starting our descent—passengers, we welcome you to Hong Kong. Thank you for choosing to fly with East Asian Airlines. We hope you’ve had a wonderful trip.” 

A/N: Thank you for reading the first part of Plus Two! Please do not ask about updates—you can check the upcoming page to check on the status of the second half! 

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Across Seven Seas

Chapter 1

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

Chapter 2

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 1

5th September, 9pm - Boston, USA, Chris' childhood home:

Passport? Check.

Visa? Check.

Mobile charger? Check.

Airpods? Airbuds? What the fuck are they called? Pods? Buds? Whatever, check.

Dressed in a simple black Henley with blue denim, Chris checked the list for the upteenth time, making sure not to leave anything behind. It didn't help that his faithful canine was nuzzling at his knee, begging for attention. Somewhat satisfied with the list, Chris finally locked the suitcase, keeping it besides his carry-on duffle bag.

"Hey bud", he knelt down, gently petting the Mutt, "I will be back soon, you know that right? I have to leave... You know why... I'm sorry, you know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to, right? I'm sorry, so sorry. I'm really sorr... Hahahaha get off me!!!!" Dodger had started licking his face, begging him to stay. Soon Chris was on the ground, with Dodger safely secured in his arms, dropping kisses on his furry head. Scott chose that moment to barge into Chris' room. "There you are! I have been calling you, whistling for you, yet no reply!! What do you have to say for yourself Dodger Evans?!" exclaimed Scott, hands on his hips, trying his best to mimick their strict mother. Dodger wriggled out of Chris' grip and put his front paws on Scott's hips. "Uh huh young man, your puppy eyes are not going to work on me this time. C'mon, Tara is here to take you."

With Chris closely following the pair, they headed towards the living room. "Do we really need to leave him here?", Chris asked again. "Chris we have been over this, it would not be advisable for Dodger to travel all the way to India. It can affect his health." "But why do we need to go to India in the first place? Can't we go somewhere closeby?" On hearing those words, Scott turned just enough to give Chris a knowing look. "We discussed this before, we need to go to India. YOU need to go to India." As they entered the living room, Chris muttered, defeated, "I really don't...."

6th September, 6am - Mumbai, India, Meera's House:

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Meera woke up with a jerk. Her eyes still adjusting to the darkness in her room. Fumbling for the phone, she set the alarm to snooze, hoping to get 10 more minutes of precious sleep. She could already hear activity in the house. Resting her head on the pillow, she almost fell back into a deep slumber when...

KNOCK KNOCK

"Meera! Get up! It is 6:30 already!" her mother shouted. Scowling at her door, Meera shouted back, "It is just around 6 Ma! No need to exaggerate! 5 more minutes!" KNOCK KNOCK "We will get late for the flight, hurry!" Sighing in resignation, Meera groggily woke up.

Heading downstairs for breakfast, she stumbled upon the luggage in the living room. Irritated, she scowled at her elder brother, "Rohan, I asked you to move the bags na? Why are they still in the way?" Looking up from his plate of buttery parathas (Indian bread), he flashed a wicked smile from the sofa, "Why should I move them? You move them if you want to." Rolling her eyes, Meera grabbed a small packet of cornflakes from the kitchen, shoving handfuls of the crunchy goodness in her mouth. Her mother looked at her with defeat, "Bala (meaning child in local language), at least use a bowl. I don't understand how can anyone eat raw cornflakes just like that." "I like them crunchy Ma. I cannot imagine eating cornflakes with milk or water. YUCK!" said Meera, shuddering. "Is that all you want to eat now? Won't you get acidity if you eat less?" her mother inquired. "No Ma, I am good. I hate waking up so early, and eating a heavy breakfast on top of that? Impossible. Not going to happen."

"Look at me, I already ate 3 stuffed parathas, Ma is making a fourth one now", her brother proudly exclaimed. "I don't think I have ever seen you not stuffing your face, fatty. Stop eating or you will not fit through the doors of the plane!" teased Meera. "I am not fat, I am plump 😄. Now pass me some green chutney." It was Meera's turn to wickedly smile now, "Why should I give it to you? If you want it, then get off that sofa and take it." "PLEEEEEEEEAASSEEE," begged Rohan. "Shut up! Absolutely not."

"Arey (often used as an exclamation in Hindi), give it to him, he needs it to eat with his parathas," softly chided Meera's grandmother as she entered the living room. "Only because Poppy asked me to," Meera said to her brother's smug face.

As family of four got comfortable on the sofa and the chairs to finish breakfast, Meera's mother suddenly exclaimed, "Meera! What are doing wasting your time?! Finish your breakfast and go and take a bath immediately! We will be late for the flight!" Trying to reason, Meera said, "Calm down Ma, our flight is at 12:30pm. It is 6:34am right now. It's alright. Even Rohan hasn't taken a bath yet." "I am not taking a bath," he said with his mouth full. The room was filled with disgusted "eww"s and "tsk"s at that announcement. "Bala you need to take a bath. How can you travel for such a long time without taking a bath?" said their Mother. "You are 35 years old! Do you still not know how to take a bath?" a disgusted Meera chimed in. "That is unhygienic," added Poppy. "I bathed 2 days ago, and we are going to Mussoorie, an icy cold hill station, so I am definitely not going to waste my time by taking a bath," proclaimed Rohan. Scrunching her nose, Meera said, "The whole plane will stink now." "You worry about your odor, I will wear my cologne. Now go take a bath or else we will get late," and with that, the smug smile was back on Rohan's face.

Same day, 9:45pm - Boston, USA, Chris' childhood home:

"Oh my God Chris if you repeat yourself one more time I swear to God I will throw something at your head!" shouted an irritated Tara, "I know how to take care of Dodger. This is not the first time you are leaving him with me. Just go on your vacation already!"

A myriad of emotions crossed Chris' face. Agitation, frustration, sadness, anger, helplessness to name a few. "It is not too late, we can still cancel the trip and go somewhere nearby. How about a shopping expedition to NYC? Or Disneyland? How about Disney World? We will even go to Harry Potter land if yo.." "First of all, it is called the Wizarding World and not Harry Potter land," Shanna interrupted Chris' protest, "Secondly," she continued from the couch, "Why are we still discussing this when there are only 7 hours left for our plane to leave?"

Chris' lips turned into a thin line. Shoulders slumped, hands in his jeans pockets, he tried his best to come up with an excuse. Anything at all to cancel this trip. He needed to stay here, at his home. He needed to think about what had happened. Where did it all go so wrong? How did he not see the signs? How could he have been so careless? As his mind started drowning into questions, his mother put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Remember when you went to India all those years ago? You were seeking peace and you found a way to deal with the chaos in your life. After A Starting Point...," she paused, "After everything that has happened in the last two years, maybe you need to find yourself again?" "But Ma I had gone to Rishikesh, a city well-known for yoga and meditation. We are going to Mussoorie! It is just a fancy hill station." "OH MY GOD! Not this again!!" shouted Carly from her room, "I told you the hotel has an amazing meditation and yoga course! You can do that for 3 weeks. Plus, the kids are excited about the indoor-pool and the gaming lounge AND we all love the view from the hotel! Do you know how many months it took me to arrange this entire vacation? DON'T. YOU. DARE. cancel this trip. Do you hear me?" Carly threatened Chris. Raising his hands in defeat, Chris set about arranging everyone's luggage near the door.

"Don't you pout now. I am sure this trip will change your life, FOREVAH!" said the ever-dramatic Tara. Smiling wistfully, Chris looked around his childhood home, already beginning to miss it. Chris knew that 3 weeks in a 5-star hotel in another part of the world would not change a single thing in his life.

If only he knew how wrong he was.