#they belong to the USB AU as well :)

[blueberrythefrog]

Hi, hi hi!!!! Since a lot of you wanted to see my OC, here they are!!!

My partner @moonionraccoon helped me with their sketch and I did the rest!! Alt without Kinito wanting to strangle them and the text!;

and as a bonus, here is them wearing their reading glasses when they look into your browser history! (Without Text): (Which they will regret eventually)

#digital art #kinitopet #kinito pet #Kinitopet oc #Kinitopet au #Professor Fluff n' Puff #kinto pet #If you get the ref on what their name is based on #I will be happy #This is the face of my blog now #A old sea slug #they belong to the USB AU as well :) #they are included in the kinitopet friendship club membership #which is why they help Kinito remember :) #Kinitopet Fluff n' Puff #kinito the axolotl #he wants to strangle this old fart #rambly tags #my art #this is also to celebrate 101 posts on my main blog!! yipppie!!! #kinito my beloved #kinitopet fanart #kinito fanart

[toiletwipes]

to prove myself to you | mafia!wilbur

~1.8k words / back at it again! this time with a mafia au! The hoes were talking about him and when they brought up this gem of an idea- I couldn't help myself. Again. Lmao. Anyway! Tagging these hoes @consequencesbylovejoy @lillylvjy @drop-of-void @tr1ental1s-boreal1s

[Wilbur is tasked with getting information from a rat from their local rivals. You, being the bartender, happen to be the rat. Try not to get killed.]

Title from Demolition Lovers by My Chemical Romance

I'll be doing a part 2 when I get home <3

~~~

He's fresh out of a job, blood staining the better part of his shirt but his blazer covers what the dimmed lights don't. He usually doesn't come in here, especially with the way he can feel eyes being trained on him.

It's not his territory, this club. However, Phil put him on this job- and the job calls for him to be here. At this club. That belongs to one special, sicko. Luckily, if the rumors are true, he doesn't come down from his office.

Still. Right now, even with the music pumping through his veins and the bass vibrating through his chest, he's got to stay focused. Find the girl. Get the info. Get out. That's all it is. And if that's all he's got to do after removing various body parts from the other sad fucks in the underbelly of this godforsaken town, then that's what he'll fucking do.

So, with the lights dimmed, and with other lights flashing and creating a dizzy sight, he heads straight to the bar, his sights set on the person tending it. Weaving his way through the crowd, he doesn't mind the additional jab to his ribs and stuff. Hisses at the contact but moves on. He's on thin ice being here, he's not about to get himself killed getting some information.

With the lights both dim and bright somehow, he only has one thought when it comes to the bartender, reaching one of the free spots up front. The bartender is quiet. Aside from sliding the drinks to the patrons, flashing a smile, all they're doing is making drinks as fast as they can. Wearing a black button up, sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons undone, showing off skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. And when they notice him, quiet as they are, they don't stop, but their eyes never leave him.

"Can I get you anything?" Their voice breaks through the pulsating music, eyes trailing down his face, down his shirt and past the blood that peaks from his collar.

"Looking for Lionel, have you seen him?" The phrase he was given to use, to make sure nobody gets any ideas that somebody is trading industry secrets in their fucking house.

And it's then, he knows it's you. You're the informant, your body stops moving so fast, eyes locked permanently on him. "He's not here, can I offer you something on tap?" There it was, your hand lands on the slick surface, so close to his and if he didn't know you, or need the information you have on these people, he'd slam the knife that sits delicately in the inside, jacket pocket, straight through your hand, through the tendons and bones and tissues and right into the bar.

He doesn’t do that, especially when your eyes are as lit up as yours, biting on your lip like that. He's on a job and this is an act, a cover for your ass, specifically. And he'd do well to make sure the cover works. Especially for someone as… appealing as you.

(He's not immune to a pretty face. He can hold himself back from indulging in a night of fun, but this is a mission that can turn sour very quickly. And if this wasn't as delicate as it was, tonight would turn out very differently.)

"Nothing on tap, you have something light?" His hand twitches from beside yours, as he waits for something, anything. Phil told him he could get a file, whether that's a USB or a literal manilla file, or it's just a slip of paper. But the information is crucial, vital enough it could take their order down if the information is handled properly. And Wilbur is nothing but a proper handler.

Your lips twitch up into a smile, "I just might have something, yeah." Pulling bottles down, cups here and there, portioning it out, you slide a drink his way on a napkin. "If you don't mind waiting, I get out in five." Your expression reads flirty but when you slide your hand down his bare arm, your skin is not only cold but tense.

Definitely the informant.

So, turning around, he eyes the crowd that weaves and bobs like water, bouncing and moving and crashing to the beat of the music. It's a cesspool of life and crime, waiting to pounce in the folds of these clubs. He's all too aware of it.

"Wilbur, didn't expect to see you here." He hears his name and he almost loses his cool. Some guy, Jared, he used to know. Until he became a rat and joined someone else's ranks. He didn't matter the moment they found out.

He matters now, though.

"I'd say it's good to see you, Jared, but ah, it's not." He flashes a quick, all teeth, smile, a glare coming down fast after.

"Look, it was nothing personal. And besides, that's all in the past." Jared waves off the threat like it's nothing. Like Wilbur couldn't kill him and get away with it, in here. On someone else's turf. But, sure, nothing personal. "Have you met Baby?" Jared turns toward the bartender and this could not possibly have gone worse.

When Jared and him are turned back towards you, you send them a confused smile, "Jared? I thought you were out of the city?" He can see the panic underneath the mask you wear, see the anxiety budding underneath your fingers.

A beer almost slips from your hands as you hand it over to Jared, and he sees the irritated, angry skin on your forearm. Bad habit of scratching, especially under stress. This doesn't spell good news for you, maybe him if Jared doesn't leave before you.

"They called me back, said they needed me to take care of an infestation. You know how it is." And Jared takes a swing, and in the second his eyes close, your mask slips and you're begging him for help. Fucking christ.

"Sounds like you shouldn't be drinking on the job." Wilbur says, pulling Jared's eyes away from you. He sees the relief in your mask but he keeps his gaze focused on the man in front of him. Jared shrugs, turning away from them entirely, sighing through his teeth.

"I just got back in tonight, they said I can start tomorrow. So, if you'll excuse me," he turns fully back to him, pulling out a fist full of crumpled notes, slapping them on the bar. "Tonight's on me, hope we can forget about our grievances." His eyes flit to you, mindlessly wiping glasses. "Take care, Baby."

When he leaves, Wilbur scoffs, sipping from the glass. Grievances. Like he didn't get his entire family almost killed.

Finishing the drink, he stares down the glass for a second before placing it down, watching you take that and the money too. He waits two more minutes before you untie the apron around your waist, shoving it in a cubby under the bar and barreling through the door beside the wall of liquor. He doesn't hesitate, finding his way out of the club, more eyes than ever fixated him. At least five more heads than before. He breathes in the stuffy club air before pushing the door with a little more punch than necessary, it bangs against the wall outside and the line of people give him dirty looks. He holds up a hand, half apologizing and walking away. Heading to the other side of the club. He walks three blocks before making it to his car, and in the back seat, he finds you.

"How did you know?" He asks, turning the key in the ignition.

"Jared complained about your car all the time when he first came around. Couldn't get him to shut up about you. Did you two have a thing going on?" Your eyes light up with mirth, one of your hands reaching down and lightly scratches at the skin of your forearm.

"He was a close friend before we knew he was a rat." And the silence that overcomes the cab of the car is nearly deafening. "So, what-" he wipes under his nose, pulling out from beside the curb, "-do you have?"

"Rufus has a son, nobody knows who it is. But he's planning on celebrating the kid's birthday with only a handful of his most entrusted members. Here's the location, blue prints, the fucking schedule. All of it. Everybody you need gone? They'll be there. Two days from now."

Wilbur watched as you pulled out a folded band of papers, watched as your hands shook holding them out and watched your hand scratch as he took them from you. He places them neatly in the passenger seat. He continues to drive. "Thank you." If they get the details sorted out within the hour, their rivals will be nothing but a memory this time next week.

"What about your side of the deal?"

"My side?" He repeats, eyes flickering to the rear view mirror and he finds yours in a desperate squint.

"Phil said if I gave you the information, you'd get me out of here." He lays a foot made of lead on the brakes and the car, thankfully miles away from the club and anybody that mattered, screeches to a stop. He hears you curse as you latch onto the headrests before he turns around. You're panting as your eyes lift up to his. "What the fuck?" You gasp and he doesn't say anything. Not yet.

"My job was to take the information and get it to Phil. Now, considering you're probably known as Baby, and not just Jared referring to you in a sick, sort of pet name, you're not just some bartender. Are you?"

He can hear your teeth grind as you growl out in frustration.

"Even if I was some bartender, if they found out I was telling you this, they'd kill me."

"But you're not some bartender." You're trying so hard to maintain eye contact but in the end you bite the bullet and turn your eyes down.

Your voice is small, shaking, "are you gonna take me somewhere safe or not?"

"Are you going to tell me the truth?"

You laugh wetly, turning in your seat to look out the back of the cab. Wiping your eyes before you spoke, "the truth is Rufus… owns me. He finds out I ratted him out- he'll-" your choke on your tears, gasping for air as you think harder on a fate worse than death.

He faces the front. He taps the wheel before cursing under his breath.

"Fine. I'll get you somewhere safe." They only had one place safe enough where you could make it out alive by the end of this. He takes you to his house. "If you rat us out-" he begins, parking the car in a spacious garage but you shake your head.

"I promise I won't." A promise didn't mean much from a rat, but from someone who's desperate to get out? He turns the car off and turns in his seat again, your face streaked with tears and a shuddering breath.

"Okay. Let's go."

He couldn't resist a pretty face in the end, after all.

#wilbur soot #c: wilbur soot #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #au: mafia #tw: violence #<- i think it mentions it more than actual violence #my bad #this is kinda iffy but i wanted to do something for these lovely people

[digital-matchmake]

*#!& it, Au time

*it's been a decade since the company C&A has declared bankruptcy and shut down, suspiciously just in time as several missing report cases became public. Searches went cold and they were declared dead, obviously many suspects the company and it's higher ups of any involvement but with no proof, the case was closed and forgotten and the company's assets were sold away to those interested in them*

*After unfortunately getting a promotion from the company you work for, you were given an odd USB that was collecting dust in the storage bin instead of the usual celebration because you qoute from them "Things are getting more expensive here" Yeah right and so they decided to give you this old piece of junk but when they explained that the USB belongs to the C&A company before their bankruptcy you were curious on its contents*

*What could be inside this USB? Some kind of company secret? a file containing sensitive info? Some video of worker's training? At this point you aren't sure as all you know is that the company used to air some weird 3d shows that no one seems to remember. Maybe you should plug it in to see or maybe you can just sell the damn thing again but who the hell would want an old USB? Collectors maybe?*

*It would take you another week and a half to finally get curious enough to actually plug in the darn thing to your PC, when you did it prompt a request to download and wanting to know what contains in the damn thing, You click accept as it started downloading. it took a while and after it finishes downloading, An app icon appear on your desktop, it says "The amazing DIGITAL CIRCUS", hovering your mouse over it, you double click and... it opened to a blank screen, confuse, you click anything in the screen, nothing, you pressed Esc and it merely brought you back to your Monitor, is that it? what a rip off*

*Well you sure hope it isn't any kind of virus, you lean over to your pc to pull out the USB , Ready to throw it back at your boss for some actual money for your promotion when you suddenly hear a warped noise, almost sounding like a liquid being plunged through by something or someone, you turn back to your monitor and felt your heart jump to your throat as you see a gloved red hand sticking through your monitor, reaching out to you*

"WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this au, after being trapped in the digital world for at least 20 years, the performers were finally given the means of exit but not in the way that they thought, being in the digital world for so long their bodies were basically turned into digital overtime and their human bodies and memories are lost. So now basically think of them as like the gems from steven universe in the real world now.

They live with the reader after making a bit of deal with them and after calming them down (Cuz u would get scared too if you see this giant grinning rabbit man in yo living room)

They can use any devices with screens as like portals to the real world and to the digital world but also to get from one place to another, their size changes depending on which device they come out from, they can be small like around 4-6 inches when coming out of an apple watch for example, normalish (but still bigger than human) when coming out of a 55 inch tv screen and just flat out giant when coming out of a digital billboard, thankfully they can only go into a device in which the reader has access on so no giant Jax terrorizing some poor city.

They also cannot go too far from the reader, if they are very far like around 10 feet apart, they are instantly teleported next to the reader (kinda like a minecraft dog lmao)

Since they are technically in digital bodies, they do not need to eat nor drink BUT they do get tired now as they aren't constantly being fed electricity like in their digital world, they can recharge by either A. Napping (Not reccomended as it would take a day to fully recharge), B. Going into any devices and just staying there until their battery is full (Alright) or C. They can literally just place a plugged in charger in their mouth and they will recharge (They charge fast this way but with the reader's limited chargers they just tend to do the second option)

Reader was traumatized from their first encounter and literally barricaded themselves in their bathroom with all their devices turned off after learning they can use them as portals, Stayed there for about a day and a half before Ragatha managed to talk through them.

They tend to be small when they are out, mostly because the reader always brings their phone everywhere and thats how they usually be with the reader.

You all know those shimeji companion that you can download into your phone and you can pick them up and stuff? Well the reader can do that while they are in her phone but they also can mess with the reader's apps and stuff.

Caine is there but since he is an ai through and through, he just enjoys his retirement in the reader's pc and cannot get out into the real world.

Pomni thinks that she owes the reader big time for saving her from the digital hell.

The name of this Au is "Digital Circus is out!" (May change soon)

Edit- The name is changed to Digital Roommates!

#reader #tadc pomni #tadc reader #the amazing digital circus #tadc ragatha #tadc caine #tadc jax #tadc au #tadc Digital roommates #Digital Roommates au #Digital Roommates

[belovedstill]

emoji writing prompts

(inspired by this post)

96 prompts up to your interpretation. take literally, reverse, mix and match! (works well with taking ask suggestions, using random number generators, or rolling dice)

1-6 genre or tone:

🥰 fluff

💔 angst | sad ending | angst with a happy ending

🔞 smut | explicit | suggestive

🔍 mystery

🎃 spooky | horror

😎 crack | humor | meme inspired

+ 1-90 prompts:

🌸 hanahaki | pining | mutual pining

⌛ time travel | reincarnation | time loop | time is running out | immortality | time hijinks | this time they will do it right (do they?)

✉ epistolary | chat fic | letters | postservice au

🧙‍♂️ magic | urban magic | fantasy | be careful what you wish for

☕ coffee shop | restaurant | food industry

🩹 hurt/comfort | fix-it fic

💭 mind-melt | mind-reading | telepathy

🏳‍🌈 queer | queerer | unique queer experience relevant to exactly one person

🌊 merfolk au | stranded on an abandoned island | pirates

🍀 everything goes right | luck doesn't exist but somebody really does make it seem like it does

🥀 unrequited love | dealing with loss | grief

📆 slice of life

📦 delivery | package sent to the wrong address | swapped luggage/suitcase | there's some kind of mix-up happening | move in

🎬 celebrity | actor | PR hell | youtuber | streamer au

💻 internet | social media | bloggers | fandom au | two customers with radically different reviews on a product and they take it personally

🔪 revenge | murder | assassin

📞 wrong number | wrong address | wrong person | customer service | tech support | long distance

🩺 doctor | sick fic

⚽ sports | team | competition | challenge | dare

💍 engagement | marriage | arranged marriage | marriage of convenience | accidentally married | poorly-timed proposal

💋 first kiss | first relationship | first romantic experience | teaching one another how to Romance

👑 royalty | nobility | servant | butler | unequal power dynamic | undying loyalty

🎨 any artist au

🎁 gifts | surprise | keepsake | christmas | holiday | birthday

🤰 pregnancy | mpreg | alternative offspring acquisition options

👶 baby | kidfic | de-aged | age regression | accidental kid acquisition | single parent(s)

👥 resurrection | came back wrong | dark alternate character | came back right but everything else is changed

🦋 butterfly effect - change a seemingly insignificant detail in source material and write how it affects the story

🐾 pet au | animal transformation | pet acquisition | animal-to-human transformation | object-to-human transformation | object-to-animal transformation (you get the drift)

👻 ghost | afterlife | paranormal | supernatural | modern supernatural | mixed supernatural genes

😈 demon | a different kind of hell | pact | soul as acceptable transaction payment | the villain's in charge now

🤡 idiots in love | platonic buffoons | only one brain cell among them | they're so stupid

🏳️ surrender | hope | bargaining

❔ oblivious | didn't know they were dating | mistaken identity | amnesia | nobody remembers them

🛡️ protect | guardian | bodyguard | rescue

💼 office | workplace

✂️ separation, chosen or forced | abandoned | cutting ties

🎓 school | university | academic professions | mentor

🏠 domestic | roommates | neighbours

🧩 soulmates (ideas) | platonic soulmates | destined to be enemies | 3+ soulmates

🏖️ beach episode | change of scenery | more than 'a lot' self-indulgent

🏩 pwp | escort | sex worker | stripper | sugar relationship

🤝 found family | putting differences aside to work together

🧬 appearance/body/behaviour modification | shrunk down | made bigger

💾 found a lost disc/usb drive/notebook/diary | lost phone | decades-old journal/letters found among the belongings of a person who's no longer there

⚖️ getting justice, one way or another | rebellion | protest | doing the dirty work so others can thrive | balance | lawyers au

⚙️ android | futuristic | science fiction | physical workers | making it work

👁 obsession | abduction | kept captive | hostage | stalker | drugged | private detective au

⚠️ make it as messed up as you want | forbidden | taboo

🕳️ something is missing | unsettling | out of the corner of the eye | nearly, almost, not quite | not enough

🤞 must pretend | spy | secret identity | identity reveal | undercover | fake dating | secret relationship | fake-married | fake [insert role] | essentially, they must pretend to be somebody they're not/to be in a dynamic they're not

✨ under a spell | truth compulsion | forced to say the opposite of what they mean | a curse made them do x

🐌 slowburn | sped-up slow burn | over the years

🧸 childhood friends (to a dynamic of choice) | separated in childhood, reunited in adulthood

⚔ enemies (to a dynamic of choice) | meddling enemies | rivals (to a dynamic of choice)

🔁 transmigration | isekai | swapped places | role reversal | body swap

🔀 crossover | fusion | characters from X piece of media put in the world of the last piece of media you've enjoyed | make it your favourite piece of media from your childhood

⁉ miscommunication | misunderstanding | wrong place, wrong time

🔆 harem | reverse harem | poly relationship

🛏 bedsharing | accidentally falling asleep on one another | passing out | dream-sharing | invite to stay over

🔮 fairytale | mythology | folklore | legend | prophecy

😶 love triangle | two-person relationship/love triangle (they know each other as two people) | one-night stand turns out to be the new boss/professor/awkward dynamic

🔒 forced proximity | locked in a room | trapped together | handcuffed together | snowed in

🤲 huddling for warmth | sharing body heat | touch starved

💬 rumours | lies | misconceptions and dealing with them

💥 set off the (conflict) bomb | right before the blow-up | argument | fight | pranks

✊ superheroes and supervillains | superpowers | the chosen one(s) | deemed to be the cursed/unlucky one

🔥 rebirth | sacrifice | sacrifice of something other than their life | destruction | letting go | ritual | change

💁‍♀️ spite fic (write literally anything you like that fandom/somebody else complained about that you disagree with) aka "they're wrong and i'm going to keep having fun"

#️⃣ love at second/third/nth sight | meet ugly | annoyed at first sight | reluctant

🖤 blind date goes right | blind date goes wrong | stood up | matchmaker

🚗 travelling together | commute | road trip | hitchiking

❕ confession | interrupted confession | confessing when it doesn't matter anymore

🚫 getting what they want but not in the way they want it | not like this

🖊 doomed from the start | it was always going to end like this | it didn't have to end this way

🐱‍👤 did a crime on accident | did a crime very much not on accident

👭 doppelgangers, lookalikes | twins | they meet their alternate self from an alternate word/different time

👂 as they go through their day, they hear a voice and it's strangely familiar (oh no) | the voice in their head actually has their best interest in mind | two souls trapped in one body fighting for control

❌ the plot is trying to incite an event for them but they refuse to have any part in it and they will outrun it

🍸 alcohol/substance use | in vino veritas | choices were made and all that's left is regrets | choices were made and there are some gains actually | remembers nothing of what they did while drunk (others may be kind enough to spare no detail)

👍 support group | dealing with issues | compromise

82. 👪 meet the family | meet the friends 83. 💰 CEO | rich x ordinary | two different worlds collide 84. 🌠 rarepair! | rarer! | unlikely friends 85. ⚡ The Realisation | oh moment | oh no moment | learning something crucial yet horrifying they wish they could forget | the antagonist was right after all 86. 0️⃣ last day alive | apocalypse | they truly only have each other left 87. ✔ it was somebody's plan all along | they sure were aware the whole time it was somebody's plan all along | scheme | trap | gotcha | test 88. 🎲 choose an action for character to take and roll d20 - that's how well it goes, write it 89. ➕ anything at all inspired by an emoji not from this list sent in an ask or randomly generated 90. ® get a string of 3+ random emojis from an emoji generator (e.g. this one or this one or any other) and write a story based on them

if you're disappointed that a prompt you wanted to find isn't on the list, take it as a sign to write it 👀

and if none of these spark creativity, check out Hatch's Plot Bank with 2300+ plot ideas

screenshots of the emojis under the cut

#prompts #writing prompts #emoji prompts #m #long post

[fandomandangstlover]

somewhere near the "end" of the heaven protocol au, SMG4&3 were hacked into to well...end the protocol & bring the Guardians back. when they managed to get inside, however?

oh boy. it is... something. although it clearly tried to look holy, it was old & abandoned & there's clearly something wrong & 4&3 are there but they're not themselves the protocol is still in them.

when they try to speak, their voices breaks & glitches, something is fighting against it as bites of 4/3's voices came through as well as text-to-speak (is that how u spell it?) that belonging to the protocol itself.

it overpowered the Guardians' voices & spoke over them, which is clearly doing something bad because the Guardians are bleeding code out of their mouth & they starts to look so sickly.

the crew's goal, however? was to find the "core" of the guardians, to hack into it & turn off the protocol. the USBs are there too. they're there to open up the core & find the protocol, to grab onto it & turn it off. Melony would be the one luring the protocol out because...well, she caused this.

...this doesn't make sense actually. this was mostly a brain fart. ah'll figure out if i wanna keep this when ah'm thinking normally-

#my thoughts #heaven protocol au #ah'll figure this out eventually

[forthedancingandthethriving]

I honestly do think I'm going to switch to using normal dialogue for the USBs and all the others because for some reason my phone keeps glitching Tumblr whenever I use colors,, like I get kicked out,, so for the time being it's normal dialogue time! Sorry about that!

Idea came from the wonderful @duckapus , and Emulator belongs to them! Please go give them a follow and check out their aus as well!! :D

○●○

Juliano smiles as he sits beside Domain, watching the others throughout the showgrounds. It was closed currently because of something Mario and Bob had done, but it didn't seem to be that big of a deal. Domain sat beside him, and to the USB's right was Forum, and next to Forum was Emulator.

To say he was a bit surprised when he found out their universe was alive and had a hologram was an understatement. But.. he had also somehow survived his universe's destruction, so he wasn't too surprised.

He leans back with a hum and glances at Domain. "You know, apparently you guys were considered successful SMGs back when you were Guardians, so-"

He's interrupted by Emulator bursting out into laughter, leaning forward, and her shoulders shaking a bit. He blinks a few times, caught of guard. "Uuh.. Emmy? Are you okay?"

"I'm- I'm fine!" she manages to say between laughs, glancing at him. "That just caught me off guard!"

"What?" he raises an eyebrow. "Them being successful SMGs?"

"Yes!" she laughs, shoulders shaking more. She has a grin on her face and.. Domain and Forum seem slightly embarrassed?

What?

"What is she laughing about?" Juliano questions, looking at Domain.

"Nothing!" his friend answers way to quickly, turning his head to glare at Emulator. "Nothing at all!"

"He needs to know!" Emulator grinned, calming to quick giggles.

Julianl gently pushed Domain back, leaning forward. "What do I need to know?"

"The universe activation was complete pandemonium," she giggles, grinning still. "Nothing went right. Absolutely nothing."

"Emmy, please-" Domain groans whilst Juliano raises an eyebrow.

"It couldn't have been that bad." the former Avatar tilts his head.

"Well, for starters, when Four's Guardian Pod landed, it didn't spread out the meme energy evenly and activate Mario!" Emulator grins. She ignores Domain's pleas for her to stop talking. "It just started zapping people!"

Juliano blinks. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah." Emulator snickers.

Forum buries his face into his hands with a groan, already knowing it was useless to try and stop his little sister. He only shook his head, listening to Domain try and cut her off or stop her.

"And then SMG4 had no idea of who he was or what he was meant to do, so he just fell into the roll accidentally!" Emulator continues, grin persisting. "And then he and Mario dumped his Guardian Pod down a chasm."

"No." Juliano's eyes widen, a chuckle escaping him.

Emulator leaned forward, nodding. "Yes."

"They dumped it down there and then celebrated after," the hologram continues, giggling again. "I mean, I don't blame them, but they still dumped it down!"

"Where were you two during this?!" Juliano laughed, looking at Domain and Forum.

"Emmy, shut up, please-" Domain pleaded, clasping his hands together. Forum let out an embarrassed groan, and the former Avatar swore he could see a bit of an embarrassed blush.

Emmy keeps grinning. "And then SMG3's Guardian Pod lands.. in this world, and not the Internet Graveyard."

"NO." Juliano gasped.

"And he didn't have any idea of what to do or any of the instincts he should have!" Emmy continues. "Then he came out and he and SMG4 immediately decided that they hated each other."

"They hated each other?" Juliano looks back towards the showgrounds, seeing Four and Three chasing after Lil Coding. The Code was in his cat form and.. had a phone in his mouth. Odd. "But they're so close!"

"Trust me, it was a whole thing." Emulator giggles. "And then, for years after, SMG3 spent time actually trying to KILL SMG4 and Mario."

"Where were you two during this?!" Juliano repeats as he looks at the USBs, laughing again. "Were you two not active or something?!"

Emulator's grin grows, and Juliano cackles, clutching his stomach. Forum lets out another embarrassed groan, and Domain too hides his face behind his hands. Emulator and Juliano laughed while the USBs stewed in embarrassment.

"Oh, that's great," Juliano chuckles, slowly calming down. He pats Domain on the back, shaking his head. "Man, who would've thought that the perfect SMGs would've had such a bad universe activation?"

"Shut uuuuuuuup.." Domain grumbles, lowering his hands to glare at his friend.

The former Avatar pauses to think before grinning at Emulator. "Wanna hear about all the times they did something stupid as SMGs?"

"YES!" Emulator laughs.

"NO!" the two Admins cry out, looking at Juliano with looks of betrayal.

Juliano opts to ignore his friends, all too happy to talk about their time as his Guardians. He only smiled at his friends as they groaned from the embarrassment and Emulator began to laugh from the stories.

#!posts! #fanfiction: my writing! #emulator #avatar: juliano #usb: smg3 #usb: smg4

[smol-and-grumpy]

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09​ <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again. 

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided. 

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.” 

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake. 

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more. 

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine. 

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time. 

“Oh god, Mick.” 

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.” 

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.” 

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find. 

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm. 

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed. 

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind. 

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met. 

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered. 

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag. 

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs. 

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her. 

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick. 

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall. 

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket. 

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend. 

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.” 

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed. 

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone. 

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway. 

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

 The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next. 

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain. 

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again. 

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

  Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been. 

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget. 

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears. 

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?” 

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood. 

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?” 

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic. 

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.” 

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.” 

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on. 

“Y/N?” 

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

​

#to be free #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #mountain man!Dean #nathalie writes

[gingerale2017]

I Still Feel This Way

(AU Day!)

Cresswell - Day 3 of cresswell ship weeks

Modern tech shop AU

A/N: I finally did a fix for cresswell week. Its rushed and crappy, sorry in advance.

Cress stared at the laptop she was supposed to fix. It had come down with a bad virus and froze completely. It also had a cracked Cinder had to deal with that later. The owner of it definitely does not know who to take care of their belongings.

Sighing, she checked the post it note on the back of the laptop labeling the damages.

Virus, cracked screen, buttons don’t work, USB port broken.

Do people just not know how to take care of technology or is it just this person?!

She rubbed her eyes. What she needed was another coffee. What was taking Cinder so long?

Cress decided to wait and checked who was the owner of this laptop. Carswell Thorne, the chart said. Oh, she was going to have a word with this- wait why did that name sound familiar.

She pushed backward on her rolly chair to the desk behind her where the shop’s computer was. She typed his name and clicked on his Instagram account. Pictures of a very handsome face popped and her hand flew to her mouth.

This was Carswell Thorne! Her crush from high school.

Aces, she liked this man ever since she laid eyes on him. Sure they were close, but Cress never had the guts to ask him out. They promised to keep in touch after they went to separate colleges, but it's been three years.

And although it seemed impossible, she forgot about him. But now, seeing his picture, old feelings and memories came rushing back.

She scrolled down, studying his pictures. A small smile crept on her lips as she remembered her fantasies. Then a blush came next and she closed out of the tab out of embarrassment.

Okay. This is fine. She was fine. Her massive crush from high school is here and she was fixing his laptop. Oh no, what was she going to say when he comes to pick up his laptop?

Cress took a deep breath to calm herself down. She shouldn’t fear the worst because it won’t happen, right?

There was a thump from the front desk. Startled, she rolled back putting on a smile, then dropping it when she saw that was just Cinder with her coffee. But it was a frappuccino. She frowned.

“I wanted an Americano, ” Cress explained.

Cinder didn’t hear and let herself in. Her face was flushed and she had a dazed look, “Cinder?”

She looked at Cress and seemed to be brought back to the present, “huh?”

“Are you alright? I wanted an Americano by the way.”

Cinder blinked, “right, sorry. I forgot because…” she trailed off.

Cress furrowed her brow. She was acting rather odd, “Cinder, what happened?”

“I don’t know, ” she said slowly, “Shit, I gotta go,” she left her latte and headed out.

“What- you just had lunch, it's my turn!” Cress groaned. Better start working Thorne’s laptop, she thought.

After an hour or so, the laptop was ready to be fixed by Cinder, who still hasn’t come back. Her stomach growled and Cress decided to attack her snack stash.

Iko had come in to take care of customers and Cress was so grateful because she was terrible with them. Now Cress was in a workspace she shared with Cinder at the back of the shop. It was far away from people which was the best part.

“Hey Cress?” said Iko, head behind the door.

“Yes?”

“Someones here to see you.”

“Is Cinder back yet?”

“Nope, but the longer the better, ” did Iko know something?

Cress got up and stretched her neck. She turned around and saw a man in the doorway with brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. Spades, it was Carswell Thorne, from high school. He somehow looked hotter and her cheeks blushed for thinking that. And here was she, a mess from fixing tech all day with bad hair and a crinkled uniform.

“Hi, Cress, it’s been so long, ” he greeted, eyes sparkling.

She blushed even more, “hi Captain, ” she blurted. Oh, spades she used her nickname for him. This was going terrible.

Thorne laughed and her stomach felt crowded with butterflies. She chuckled, hugging her arm.

“Wow, I miss that. I miss-” he stopped himself and changed the subject, “how are you?”

“I’m good, school is going well, I’m majoring in Computer Science. Uh, how- how are you?” she stammered.

“I’m fine. I’m visiting family here and I saw Iko’s Instagram and you were in one of the pictures so I wanted to come by. I didn’t know you worked with her, ” he explained.

“Oh, only weekends because of classes. It pays enough. Wow, I can’t believe you’re here, I-I missed you.”

He blushed, “me too, ” he sniffed and looked to the ceiling. Cress also looked away, blushing.

“Cress?” she looked back at his ocean blue eyes. They were so wonderful to look at.

“Yes?” Thorne took a step forward.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, to be honest, and I know I took three years to realize this but,” he grabbed her small hands and stared at them, “everyone I dated since then, which was a lot of people, I thought of you. And none of them made me feel, what you made me feel.”

Cress gaped at him, “Thorne, it's been year's I-”

“You don’t feel that way anymore, ” he looked at her, eyes full of sadness. He let go, “I understand, I know I messed up”

“No!” she grabbed his hands back, “it’s not that. I forgot what it felt like, but I still feel it, ” she cupped his cheek, “and I’m pretty sure that feeling is love.”

He smiled, “well then, would you like to go on a date?”

“Yes!” she hugged Thorne.

“This feels weird, to be honest, ” he laughed.

“Yes it does, and you and I probably changed-”

“We’ll make it work.”

“Yeah.”

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

Cress picked up her pasta with the fork. It fell before she could eat it and she let out a frustrated huff. Cinder snickered from across the table and she glared but she was laughing at something else.

“Do you like it?” asked Carswell beside her.

She smiled. It’s been a month since that fateful day. Cinder proclaims that she convinced Carswell to confess to Cress, therefore initiating thier relationship.

That’s why she was acting weird but she was also dealing with other business. That business being the boy sitting beside her.

They were on a double date and Cress couldn’t have been happier. She felt as if she was floating on clouds. Carswell transferred here for the pilot program and stayed with his aunt, so they could continue their relationship happily.

“I love it,” she replied, pecking his lips. He smiled as took a sip of his wine, immediately coughing it out.

Cinder and Kai laughed, leaning on each other. Carswell glared at them while cleaning his mouth with a napkin.

“What happened, ” Cress asked, confused.

“We put, ” Cinder stopped to take a breath from laughing so much, “the bottle of salt in his drink.”

Carswell coughed again as Cinder dug her head in Kai’s shoulder. Cress giggled.

“You guys are so immature!” he accused.

“Oh, look who’s talking, ” Kai spat, calming down a little.

Cress was thrilled but she didn’t show it. The real reason they are having a double date is that she, Carswell, and Iko are plotting to get them together. It was working so far and both of them agreeing to this date was a big step. And it brought her and Carswell closer.

She looked at him and he smiled knowingly.

Sighing happily, Cress successfully ate her pasta. She wished that this happy, floating feeling will last for a very long time.

Tlc Ship Weeks 2021 Masterlist

Tagging: @just2bubbly @the-wee-woo-rita @zephyr-thedragon @cerenoya @kaiderforever @salt-warrior @shelbylmkaider @shellyseashell @greenalmond @greasicookies @deprivedmusicaljunkie @impossiblesuitcase @sexy-dumpster-fire (ask if you wanna be added or removed!)

#tlc ship weeks 2021 #cresswell ship weeks 2021 #my fic #tlc #lunar chronicles #cresswell #captain carswell thorne #crescent moon darnel #the lunar chronicles fanfiction #<3

[gukyi]

for you, anything | ksj

summary: in the popular online multiplayer game, kingdom, you are the top-ranked knight with money, fame, and power. in real life, you’re a graphic design geek who’s got a very unsubtle crush on her gorgeous coworker, kim seokjin. but when you’re suddenly dethroned from the first place spot in your game, you and your kingdom character embark on a journey to reclaim your title, and learn on the way that things are not always as they seem. 

{friends to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, fantasy word count: 21k warnings: alcohol mention, brief and non-graphic descriptions of violence, this is basically two fics in one so you get double the fun and double the word count!! a/n: once again, a massive, massive thank you to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me!! you can find her on twitter as well under @btspresso_!! she’s the genius behind this enemies to lovers and friends to lovers seokjin fic wrapped up into a nice package just in time for the holidays!! you ever seen a fic with e2l and f2l together? that’s right, i didn’t think so. enjoy!!!

check out the post-script drabble here!

♚ HERE ♚

“Oh, shit!”

From twelve feet away comes the sound of these three things in this order: fingers furiously mashing keyboard keys, wheels of an office chair swiveling angrily on the linoleum floor, and a war cry. All of which could either belong to a video game world championships in a big-city stadium or your simple, office of two-floors in a more-than-one-hundred-stories skyscraper based in graphic design and media for small start-up companies. 

“I can’t tell if Photoshop crashed again or if you’re playing that weird online multiplayer game again,” Yoongi grumbles from across the way, where he’s gnawing on a Clif bar in one hand as he mindlessly taps his mouse with the other. 

“Please,” Jimin says, carelessly waving a hand. “Don’t act like I haven’t caught you watching My Hero Academia multiple times this year while we were supposed to be doing work, you absolute piece of toast. But if you must know, I was in fact playing Kingdom.”

“I’m going to tell Namjoon,” Yoongi says with zero emphasis, because everybody knows that Namjoon’s got dirt on everybody in the office anyway (including Yoongi) and that if you try to expose somebody else to him, he’ll expose you back. It’s colleague culture. 

“And what’s Namjoon gonna do? He already knows you carry a flash drive of illegally-downloaded animes with you wherever you go,” Jimin retorts casually. He’s not wrong, and you can confirm that Yoongi indeed carts around a USB drive in the shape of a pineapple that has 64GB of anime. 

“What do I know?”

Namjoon comes trotting into view from the corridor that leads to the gender-neutral bathrooms with glasses hanging from the collar of his sweater vest, a clipboard with nothing attached to it in his right hand, and a steaming cup of jasmine tea (he hates coffee and declares this publicly at least three times a day) in his left. 

“You know that Yoongi—”

“Has been doing his work the whole time you were in the bathroom so you don’t need to worry about him,” Yoongi interrupts quickly. 

Namjoon shoots both Jimin and Yoongi a suspicious glare, but moves on. He’s got enough blackmail on the both of them to bury them into the next calendar year, but he’s wise, and he only uses it when absolutely necessary. “Just doing checkups on you guys before Boss Man calls me back into his office and gives me a pile of over one hundred hours of work I’m supposed to do in a forty-hour work week.” It’s been obvious from the moment you were hired that Namjoon does the most work out of anybody in this office, including your boss, and gets very, very little from it. 

“You don’t even have any paper attached to your clipboard,” Taehyung points out rather unhelpfully, from where he’s been drawing hearts on the cheeks of the Surprised Pikachu meme he’s taped up on the wall his desk is pushed up against. 

Namjoon looks down at his clipboard like it just spit mad fire at him, furrows his brows, and lets out a sigh equivalent to three years worth of pent-up aggression. “Shit.”

Jimin cackles from his computer. 

“Whatever, I’m still going to do checkups.” Namjoon takes the pen from behind his ear and writes himself a note, presumably to get paper for his clipboard later. “Jimin, you’re still working on that website layout for the art critic and photographer. Yoongi’s on coding for that search engine that we all know is never taking off but is still paying us. Taehyung’s on marketing because he’s got the most charming voice and Hoseok and Jungkook are on media production for the indie movie company. Y/N and Seokjin, you guys are on clientele and coding. Everybody good before I go get more paper?”

“Yes, Tiny but Large Boss Man,” Jimin says, and it’s enough of a confirmation to send Namjoon scurrying down the corridor again in search of paper as everyone else returns to their prior business. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around from the font website you’ve been browsing for about half an hour to find Seokjin standing behind you, an earpiece in his ear and that charming smile on his face. It’s the same smile he gave you on your first day on the job when he was introducing himself, same smile he gives when he meets clients in person, same smile he gives Namjoon whenever the man is about to have a breakdown. It’s a friendly, personable-but-universal kind of smile. The kind models need. The kind that Seokjin has mastered. 

“Hey, Seokjin,” you say, only just then coming to realize that Seokjin is much closer to you than his voice originally implied. You’ve rotated 180 degrees in your office chair and he is hardly a foot away from where your feet are. It’s a lot. Seokjin is always a lot. In the best sort of way. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, just wanted to check in and see how the project was going for that one guy that wanted a nice advertisement to put on Angie’s List,” Seokjin says, leaning down to look at what you’ve been doing. 

“Oh, well I’ve been browsing this font website for ages and I still can’t find a nice one for the sub-heading. All of these are too flashy or difficult to read,” you say, beginning to scroll as you and Seokjin both look for one that you like. 

“Hmm, I see what you mean,” his voice sounds like honey and if you had any less dignity you’d let the chills send shivers down your spine. Luckily, you know how to maintain your composure in an office setting. And you also know that Yoongi and Jungkook would never let you hear the end of it, ever. “Oh, how about that one?”

“This one? Rose Quartz?” You ask, pointing to it. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says. “It has a nice flair that matches with the font for the business name, but it’s still easy to read. It would probably look really nice with a crisp shadow behind it, don’t you think?”

“Maybe you’re onto something,” you say, clicking to read the fair use and copyright. 

“Couldn’t have done it without all the hard work you’ve put into this,” Seokjin says, standing up and shooting you another one of his famous smiles. “You’re the best partner anybody in this tiny media production and design company could ask for.”

He leaves without bidding you farewell, but it’s enough to have you staring blankly at your computer, contemplating existence itself. Sometimes, a little part of you wonders if Seokjin only treats you like this and none of your other coworkers, but then you immediately remember that Seokjin is naturally charming and that he probably speaks to newborn babies in the same way.

Yoongi wheels over to your desk from where his is, smirk lacing his features as he chews on another, different-colored Clif bar. 

“Ever heard of a personal bubble?” You ask snarkily, because you already know why he’s over here, and so does he.

“Why aren’t you asking the same question to Seokjin, hmm?” Yoongi taunts. He’s know about your dumb crush on your coworker (of all people, your coworker! A fellow employee!) for months now. He isn’t being any more helpful whatsoever. 

“Go watch your pirated anime,” you grunt out, too overwhelmed with the way Seokjin smiles at you to really give Yoongi your full attention. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Sure, but I’m not Seokjin,” Yoongi says. Then he wheels away and you’re left staring at the Rose Quartz font, whose sample text reads: This was meant to be. 

At least Namjoon doesn’t know.

It’s midnight on a Tuesday, and you’re just about to turn off the lamp on your bedside table and get some well deserved weekday-night shut eye when your phone begins to blare, a disgustingly ugly picture of Jungkook’s face appearing on the screen.

You stare at your phone like it’s personally offending you (which, if Jungkook’s face is anything to go by, it definitely is) before you turn off your ringer and close your eyes. Jungkook can wait. Very seldom is he at the top of your list of priorities.

Barely five seconds after you’ve put your head on your pillow, your phone begins to vibrate, this time even angrier than the last. Aggravated and a little concerned—because Jungkook never, ever calls twice—you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Something crazy just happened!”

“I hope so, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me at midnight on a work night,” you grumble into the phone, monotonous voice a stark contrast to Jungkook’s easily excitable one.

“Have you been on Kingdom recently?!” Jungkook asks, and you practically see his eyes bulging out of his head in front of you. One of your youngest coworkers, it’s moments like these that remind you why he bears a striking resemblance to a university student—up late playing video games even on a work night—despite having a couple years in the workforce under his belt. He keeps telling you that he wants to go back to school and get a Masters in something, but he isn’t sure what yet. 

“No,” you tell him like it’s obvious, because it is. You typically begin to wind down your night around ten, which means that anything that’s happened on Kingdom in the past two hours you are thoroughly unaware of. “Can’t this wait? Kingdom’s fun and all, but I really do need to sleep.”

“But Y/N,” Jungkook says with a whine, insisting that you stay on the line, “someone beat you! You’re rank two, now.”

If Jungkook’s loud voice and jumpy attitude didn’t wake you before, you’re certainly wide awake now.

“What?” You ask, shocked. “Just now?”

“Yeah, like fifteen minutes ago! I don’t know what happened,” Jungkook says sadly, lost. “I was dueling with another knight when the horns and banners appeared on the screen and said there was a new top player. You’ve been dethroned!” He cries out like it’s him who’s lost their place. 

You’re fumbling out of bed, making a beeline for your desktop computer across your bedroom. Normally, you’d be ashamed about how high-school you’re behaving around a video game, but you’ve invested an embarrassing amount of time and energy into Kingdom, and you’ll be damned if you think someone else can outdo you. 

As you’re logging onto the game, Jungkook continues to wail into the phone. “I don’t even know who this person is, I feel like I’ve never seen them before! I mean, they must be really good since they practically appeared out of nowhere, but still! I’m a decent player so we must have crossed paths. Maybe I just don’t remember…”

Sure enough, the moment you open your screen the horns blare and the banners appear, congratulating a different player on achieving the top rank. You watch helplessly as the celebration fades on your computer before the leaderboard appears in the top left corner, your name a sad second place. 

“Who’s JK0901?” You shout into the phone, earning an exasperated sigh from Jungkook on the other end. You scowl at the name that’s knocked you off your pedestal, before narrowing your eyes to look at it more closely. “JK? Is that you, Jungkook? Are you just calling me to make fun of me for beating me? Don’t disrespect your elders, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gasps like he’s been accused of murder. For people that take Kingdom as seriously as you and Jungkook, it may as well be. “No! What the heck, Y/N, you know that my username is KookieMonster97, for God’s sake. Accusing me of being the best, how could you?”

“You should have just taken the compliment,” you frown into the phone, “Now all the girls are gonna know you aren’t, in fact, the number one Kingdom player.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Jungkook mutters. “But it’s not me, I swear. You would have received a very different phone call from me if it was. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have even told you and then ruined your day in the office tomorrow. So it’s not me.”

“I can’t tell if I’d be more or less angry if it was you,” you admit.

“Why, because I’d finally have something to hold over your head other than my unwavering youth?” Jungkook taunts. Definitely still a university student at heart. 

“No, because it means I’d have to hear the entire office praise you for a day, and I’d rather permanently pop my eardrums,” you tell him informatively. Jungkook has enough of a head. You actively try to not do anything to enlarge it unless he wholeheartedly deserves it. 

“I love our coworker chats, you know,” Jungkook says. “Whoever this person is though, I bet they’re receiving bucketloads of praise for knocking you off the top spot. You’ve had it for like, three months now, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you tell him through gritted teeth. “I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this game and look how it’s repaying me,” you grumble, staring down the Kingdom home screen. 

“JK0901 probably did a ritual sacrifice to beat you,” Jungkook supplies unhelpfully. 

You sigh. Whoever they are, they proved that they are just as good at Kingdom as you are, a veteran player with an embarrassing several years of experience under your belt. In fact, they proved that they’re better than you. 

♚ THERE ♚

It’s cloudy today, which means that more of the market stalls are out on the main street. You pass by them on your way to the castle, vendors calling out to you with promises of apples, jewelry, and perfumes. 

You’ve got money to burn and your responsibilities can wait a couple of minutes, so you indulge one of the stalls and purchase a couple of apples. One should give you a bit of energy now, and the rest can be roasted later for a better meal. 

“Miss Y/N, off to the palace?” The vendor asks. From how much you frequent this part of the kingdom, every artisan, farmer, and merchant alike knows your name. That, and the fact that you’ve amassed quite a group of followers from your daily knightly escapades. 

“Of course,” you respond happily, paying the merchant with a couple of silver coins and then some, just as a thanks. The extra money helps the farmers raise the quality of their crops and allows them to earn more for their efforts. It also boosts your standing amongst the townsfolk. “His Majesty requested my presence for further instructions on fortification, most likely. But I’m just honored to be recognized.”

“As you should!” The man responds dutifully. “You are our best knight, after all.”

“Please, you flatter me. When the work day is done, go home and feed your children well, alright?” You ask, giving a firm nod to the merchant before you’re on your way. As you stroll down the stone-paved path, other vendors call out to you, hoping that you, too, will indulge in their finest clothes and trinkets on your way to the castle. 

Maybe another day. 

You take a hearty bite of the apple as you head towards the palace, a satisfying crunch ringing through your ears as the townsfolk nod and bow to you. It’s easy to figure out that you’re the top-ranked knight in the kingdom, with badges of honor pinned to your torso, ink black armor clinging tightly to your body, and red sashes tied around the black ones on your wrist, signifying approval from the highest ranking military official in the kingdom: the king himself. 

The guards at the palace gates step aside as you nod to each other, bowing courteously. You repeat this process several more times as you slowly proceed towards the throne room, where the King (and maybe the Queen) are likely to be waiting for you. They had increased their security at every door frame after an attempted assassination several months ago, which you (with the help of other high-ranking knights and castle officials) discovered was a plot orchestrated by Their Majesty’s second-most-trusted advisor. 

Finally, you reach the golden arches that signify that you’ve arrived at the most expensive room in the entire palace (save for Her Majesty’s bathroom, which, though you have never been inside, is rumored to have a golden bathtub and sacred water from the River Blancheur, over two thousand miles away. But you cannot confirm nor deny.), threatening red doors slowly creaking open as the King and Queen come into view. 

They’re sitting on their thrones, as per usual, but they aren’t the only ones in the room like they normally are. Instead, there’s another knight, as equally decked out as you, standing before them, arms crossed behind their back. 

“We hope that you can wear these honors proudly and do your duties with pride,” the King says regally, deep, thick voice echoing throughout the room. 

“I will stop at nothing to ensure this kingdom’s greatness,” the knight says back, just as formal. The knight gives a long bow, red sashes around their wrist dangling towards the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were being replaced. But of course, that’s not the case. 

“Oh, Y/N,” the Queen says happily, noticing your waiting right in front of the closed doors to the throne room. “Prudent, as always.”

“I aspire to please,” you say with a bow. The King gives you a warm smile, one you’re willing to bet that this other knight isn’t often on the receiving end of. 

“Your timing is impeccable,” the King says, ushering for you to come forward. You do so, taking calculated steps along the red carpet, woven nearly two centuries ago and maintained ever since. “We were just congratulating Sir JK on his recent accomplishments in the Black Forest.”

“Of course,” you say with a nod, refusing to turn to your left so you can stare down this Sir JK for yourself. “The military made groundbreaking strides for our kingdom there.”

“You are the first person to know this, other than him, of course, but we’ve decided to appoint him as the Head of the Royal Knights of the Kingdom of Kalar,” the King says proudly. 

It takes everything in your willpower not to let your mouth drop open. You blink rapidly, making sure that you aren’t in a daze nor still asleep. Sure enough, you’re wide awake and your ears and eyes seem to be working perfectly. The knight next to you is taking over the highest position a knight can hold in your kingdom, one that even you haven’t been given. 

You’ve been replaced. 

“What an incredible honor,” you say, body stiff. You can practically feel the ego of the knight next to you radiating off of him. It makes your nerves twitch. 

“I think so as well,” the King says proudly. He has, luckily, not picked up on your sudden mood change. “So, I’ve called you here to appoint you as his second-in-command.”

You bow graciously at his words, ensuring that, despite your bitter attitude, you are still thankful for this opportunity. Mostly. You are mostly thankful for this opportunity. 

“I’m honored and grateful, Your Majesties,” you say, head facing the carpet. “I would rather die than let down my kingdom.”

“You two are to work together closely,” the Queen advises, words that make your ears bleed. Oh, wonderful, now you have to work hand-in-hand with the person that stole your favor with the royal household right from underneath your feet? You can think of nothing more enjoyable. “Your cooperation alone will ensure the utmost safety and security of this kingdom.”

“We shall do better than our best,” the knight beside you says. His words make your eyes roll back into your head, but you’ve been a bigger brownnoser in your past. You can forgive that, even if the man next to you radiates an energy you’d rather not surround yourself with. 

“I’m pleased to hear it. Your training and work together begins now, so do not hesitate to get to know each other.”

You and him take one baited breath each before turning to each other. You both bow out of obligatory respect, which satisfies the King and Queen well enough. And as you come up, you catch a glimpse of each other’s eyes. His are dark, rounded pupils. They’re hiding something. 

You’re determined to figure out what it is. 

“Call me J,” the knight says the moment you’ve stepped foot outside of the palace. The setting sun shines dimly on the main road, and many of the vendors are beginning to pack up their belongings in order to head home. 

“Okay, J,” you say suspiciously. Everything about him unsettles you slightly. Perhaps it’s the fact that behind the armor and the mask and the badges, he’s extremely good-looking. Or maybe it’s the fact that he swiped the top-ranking knight position right from your fingertips. It must be that. “It’s baffling to me that we haven’t met yet. If you’ve been in such high favor with the King and Queen, then I must have seen you somewhere.” You wonder if he can hear the bitterness lacing your features. You sure hope that he can. 

“I guess our paths just never crossed,” J says, taking a bite out of a peach he just purchased from a farmer’s daughter, who was watching over the stall as her father haggled with another vendor. You watched as he winked to the girl as she gave him two peaches for the price of one. “I’m more on the ground than you are, am I not? You spend much of your time strategizing in the castle.”

“You don’t know what I do,” you huff out. He finishes the peach and wraps up the pip in a piece of cloth from his pocket before tucking it away. There is no place to dispose of it on the main street anyway. 

“Don’t I?” J says with a sly grin, one that makes you want to kick him in the shin and push him into the grass. “Everyone knows what you do, Y/N. You were the King and Queen’s favorite.”

The way he uses the past tense doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“But, as it seems, being on the battlefield outweighs directing it from above,” J says. He keeps his eyes off of you and his head held high while your gaze focuses in on him out of pure fury, just another way to hold his newfound superiority over your head. Five minutes next to him and he already seems to know how to push every single one of your buttons. 

“So it seems,” you say bitterly. 

“You and I really must get along, Y/N,” J says casually as you begin to stray from the hustle of the main street. Neither of you seem to have a particularly clear destination in mind, only a path that must be taken for the sake of the greater good. It’s only the prospect that if you do well enough, you’ll impress the King and Queen and regain your favor with them that’s keeping you from socking J in the face and dashing off, taking his second peach with you. “We’ll be spending lots of time together.”

“Doesn’t that sound like the bee’s knees,” you mutter to yourself. For the greater good. 

“Should it not?” J asks innocently. It makes you want to wipe that smirk right off of his face, that knowing tone in his voice. “I certainly don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. Do you happen to have one with me?”

He asks it because he knows that whatever you say will incriminate you. He knows that if you say no, you’re a goddamn liar, and that if you say yes, you’re weak. Weak because you’re admitting that you can’t handle spending time with him even though you have to. Weak because you’re showing him that he has power over you. 

“No, of course not,” you say, plastering the fakest smile on your face. Two can play at this game. “In fact, would it be alright if I had that other peach? I’m absolutely starving.” You can be civil. If he can, at least.

“Sure thing,” J says, unwrapping the peach from the woven napkin the farmer’s daughter gave him.

You reach out to take it from him, but in the blink of an eye his hand dangles it over your head, too far out of reach for you to grab without losing all of your dignity in the process. 

“What do we say, Y/N?” He asks sweetly, like a parent disciplining their child. God, everything he does absolutely aggravates you. 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Perhaps you aren’t on the front lines as often as he is, but you sure know how to fight. Maybe now is a good time to remind him that you received the same training he did. 

“Please?” You ask, just as saccharine. 

“As you request, Y/N,” J says with a bow, finally handing it over. 

If this is what the next several months have in store for you, you wonder if maybe sinking down to a lower ranking might be worth it after all, especially if it means you’ll never have to see him and his bouncy hair and dark eyes again. 

You take a bite into the peach. It’s sour. 

Just your luck. 

♚ HERE ♚

When you walk into work the next day, a hush falls over the room. 

It’s not even as if the entire office has been quiet so far this workday, not as if the clock struck nine o’clock and everyone decided to start a competition to see who could shut up for the longest amount of time. 

(For the record, if anyone were to win that competition, it would be Yoongi, who usually only speaks either 1) when spoken to or 2) to let someone know when they’re being dumb via insult. The first person to lose would be Namjoon, because his job description is to boss people around. And he’s awfully good at it.)

The elevator door dinged on the twenty-third floor and you could hear Hoseok’s loud gasps and Jungkook’s cackled laugh even through the glass door that separates your office from the rest of the companies that take up residence in this particular city skyscraper. And then, as your loafers tapped on the hard linoleum floor and the glass door creaked open, the entire office fell silent. 

Quickly, you wonder if you’ve forgotten someone's birthday or if anybody’s due for a celebration of some sort. But nobody’s come to mind and the lights aren’t off, which means that this isn’t the kind of sudden silence that precedes a surprise party. 

This is the kind of sudden silence that makes everybody go, “Oh shit.”

It feels like you’re walking on eggshells as you make your way over to your desk. You’re a couple minutes late due to oversleeping (for reasons that start with J and end with -ungkook) so everybody’s already here, and the office should be as boisterous and rowdy as always. And yet, something’s different. 

You’re left entirely in the dark in concern with what the reasoning is, so you just decide that you’d rather not be the one to break the tense quiet that’s befallen your office and settle down, logging into your work desktop and checking today’s assignments on Slack. 

Five minutes pass and you can’t help but think that, of the many, many days you’ve spent in this office with these people, this has got to be the most awkward by an overwhelmingly long shot. Not even the time Namjoon showed up with his hair dyed purple and traces of a sharpie drawing with a certain phallic design on his cheek was more awkward than this. 

It seems that even Namjoon’s picked up on the vibe of your workspace today, walking in and out without a word. He wheels in a portable whiteboard from one of your meeting rooms and writes down everybody’s assignments on the board in his handwriting, which makes his O’s look like D’s. 

Ten minutes in and this is the quietest your office has ever been in the history of mankind, probably. You’re almost convinced that genuinely no one will speak to each other until five o’clock, when Jimin’s end-of-work alarm goes off and you all pack up and go home, and that today’s workday is an exercise in meditation and peace, two things that are seldom available in your usual office environment. 

And then, out of nowhere, 

“Oh my God, I can’t take it anymore,” Hoseok says loudly, letting out a breath you didn’t even realize he had been holding. It’s highly unlikely that Hoseok spent the past ten minutes holding his breath because he wasn’t allowed to talk under your office’s societal norm of silence, but you honestly can’t put it past him. Speaking is essentially the equivalent of breathing to him. “I’ve been wanting to bother Jimin for not responding to my email from yesterday for the past five minutes. I don’t even know why we’re doing this, it’s clear that Y/N doesn’t care at all about what happened.”

“What don’t I care about?” You blurt out, equally as curious as everyone else also seems to release their baited breaths. 

Hoseok and Jimin immediately begin to argue about appropriate email-response time between coworkers and Yoongi rolls a couple of feet over from his own desk to enlighten you. 

“Jungkook told everyone that you had been docked from your top rank in Kingdom, and the whole office seems to have taken it very seriously,” Yoongi mutters into your ear, making you scrunch up your nose in exasperation. Is he kidding? 

“That’s why everyone was so quiet? Because they didn’t want to bring it up?” 

“I guess so, but I was just quiet because it was nice to have the whole office shut up for a few minutes in the morning,” Yoongi says with a shrug before wheeling back to his own desk, where an anime you vaguely recognize as Haikyuu!! is playing on his monitor. 

Immediately, you whip around to meet eyes with Jungkook, who looks like he’s been expecting your furious glare all morning. He smiles guiltily and can offer you literally nothing other than a mouthed sorry because you two are in a workplace environment where shouting is, generally, socially unacceptable. 

Despite your standing on the game, it’s easy to argue and even easier to prove that your coworkers care much more about Kingdom than you do. The loading screen of the castle in Monet’s art style is Hoseok’s desktop background. Jungkook has a little sword decoration next to his computer, and a couple of his pens are official Kingdom merch that you’re pretty sure he purchased from Hot Topic. Taehyung and Jimin play during their lunch break, the only time in the workday where shouting is socially acceptable, and the both of them came to last year’s Halloween party dressed as knights. Even Namjoon’s in on the game, though he rarely has time to play and usually has no idea what everyone else is referencing when they talk about Kingdom. 

Contrastingly, you enjoy the game but very seldom do you actually broadcast that affection in public. You need to have at least some semblance of personal dignity in this absolute free-for-all of a place of employment. 

So really, it’s no wonder that all of your coworkers acted like it was the end of the world when you got knocked from first place. To them, that would be like having a winning lottery ticket only to drop it onto train tracks and watch as the public transportation system has a field day with it. 

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” Taehyung says as he comes over and hands you a Tootsie Roll from the stash he keeps in one of his desk drawers for bad days. Apparently, this is a bad day. “Jungkook told us and we didn’t want to put salt in the wound.”

Even if their methodology was weird and slightly unsettling, the sentiment was there. “Thanks guys,” you tell Taehyung with a smile, “but I think you guys took it harder than I did.”

“Of course we did!” Jungkook says with a cry. He is objectively the most torn up out of the lot of you. “We had the top player in Kingdom in our very office, and now what! You were famous, Y/N! Whoever that bozo is who took your place is gonna feel the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company.”

“Who’s feeling the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company?” Seokjin asks as he strolls into the office, even later than you. To be fair, it’s looking like he’s got a box of a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts, which is enough for anyone to forgive him, even your hard headed boss. “Is it Jimin? Did he steal your Post-Its again? I saw he had a new pack.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen for barely a second before they narrow in on Jimin, who is already skirting away to find Namjoon so he can use him as a human shield. Jimin has quite the history of taking Jungkook’s office supplies only for a second and then failing to return it. 

“No, but I’m gonna deal with him later,” Jungkook says, fishing through his office supplies on the hunt for his Post-it notes, which may or may not be currently in his possession. “We were just talking about how Y/N got knocked from the top spot in Kingdom by some asshat none of us have ever heard of, and now he’s going to feel the wrath. Of us. Specifically me, but also us.”

“What wrath?” Taehyung jokes. “You’re fresh out of college. You’re practically as intimidating as a baby bunny.”

Jungkook growls just for emphasis, and it only proves Taehyung’s point more. He’s always had a baby face.  

“Well, I brought doughnuts to cheer everyone up,” Seokjin says, opening the box to reveal a dozen doughnuts of varying kinds that is likely to be finished within the next thirty seconds. 

“Oh my God, Kim Seokjin, I love you,” Hoseok says before immediately taking one and a half and bouncing off. 

“Save the pink-frosted one for me, will you? It’s my favorite,” Seokjin requests. He’s not even monitoring the box, too busy putting all his stuff away and getting settled at his desk. He’s basically asking to be robbed. 

“Aw, I wanted that one,” you joke sadly, already going for the chocolate-frosted one with rainbow sprinkles. The box is nearly three-fourths empty. Even Namjoon’s materialized out of nowhere to take the glazed one to eat while he completes the next fifty-four things on his to-do list. 

“Then let’s split it,” Seokjin says without missing a beat. Your heart does the exact opposite. 

“Jimin, you wanna split one with me?” Taehyung asks. 

“Ew, gross, no way, I want a whole one to myself,” Jimin immediately rejects. 

“I’ll go and grab it,” Seokjin says, standing up to nab the doughnut for some evil being (by the name of Jimin) takes it for himself. He plucks it from the box and takes two napkins, too, walking over to your desk as he splits the doughnut in half. 

“For you,” he says casually, like it isn’t making your heart beat out of your chest. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say jokingly, taking the doughnut and placing it on the napkin he hands to you. 

“Tell me about this Kingdom thing? You got knocked from first place?” Seokjin asks, making conversation as he lingers by your desk. It’s obvious that nobody’s going to be getting any work done. 

“Yeah, but it’s really nothing special. Everyone was making a huge deal out of it, which you should be very glad you missed, because the first ten minutes of this workday were absolutely silent and it was awful in every way that something can be awful,” you tell him. 

Seokjin laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. “Then I’m glad that I came late,” he says with a chuckle. “I couldn’t imagine a day where Jimin and Taehyung were silent for more than two minutes.”

“I lived through it,” you say, smiling. “Anyway, everyone seems to have gotten over the fact that I’m no longer the top-ranked Kingdom player. I’m kind of down about it myself, just because I worked really hard, but whoever it is that took over, I’m glad for them. I mean, it’s just a game.”

“That it is,” Seokjin says. “How about a toast to your Kingdom-playing skills, and to whoever it is that beat you.”

“Cheers,” you say, holding out your half of the doughnut. 

“Cheers,” Seokjin echoes. 

The two of you clink doughnuts, and they squish together awkwardly. 

“You should bring doughnuts more often,” You muse.

“If it means we don’t have to work and can just talk like this, then I will,” Seokjin says as he takes a bite, already heading back over to his own desk. He waves goodbye with a smile, and only then do you finally indulge. 

Sweet. As always. 

♚ THERE ♚

When you were moved to the Military Tactics Unit, the King and Queen pulled you out of military training in favor of you spending more time working on strategies for the Kingdom’s armies rather than sparring with fellow Knights. It was a wise move on the part of Their Royal Highnesses, who feared losing you to a rebel group or warring kingdom, and you didn’t mind not having to engage in the physicality of training with those that would be spending more time on the battlefield. 

And at the time, you saw it as a much-needed break from hand-to-hand combat training for years on end when you hadn’t set foot on the front lines in months. But now, that decision has decided to come back and bite you where it hurts. 

Because as second-in-command to the Head of the Knights, you (and J, both luckily and unluckily) are tasked with the important duty of supervising the military training of the new recruits. This spells doom in various ways, some of which include (and are not limited to):

Having to spend more time with J. 

Having to spend more time with J without letting all of the recruits know you both vastly dislike each other. 

Having to spend more time with J in a scenario in which there is constant hand-to-hand combat. 

Having to spend more time with J without being able to make up an excuse about needing to attend to urgent military business in order to leave. 

Having to spend more time with J. 

Attempting to remember how to spar.

So, in essence, you’re screwed. 

This is the mindset with which you walk into your very first training session in over six months, a few minutes late, of course. Recently you’ve been attempting to calculate the maximum amount of time you can spend either being tardy or leaving early from events that involve J without you facing any repercussions. So far it’s been working out well. 

When you walk in the door, before you can greet any of the recruits or even offer J a slightly sarcastic wave, he says, “Look who’s finally shown up,” loud enough for all of the recruits to turn to look as you stroll in tardy. 

“I got held up by a vendor on the main road, my apologies,” you lie like a liar. It’s obvious that J does not believe you whatsoever, but it satisfies the recruits, who return to their business as usual. 

“Well, you’re just in time for warm-up,” J says, false positivity radiating throughout every single word. 

You walk up to where he stands at the front of the room, wearing much less of his official armor than he normally is. Right now, he stands in front of you in a plain tan cotton shirt and training pants, similar to the rest of the recruits. It’s really quite jarring, to see him dressed so differently from what he usually wears—dark armor and scarlet red sashes. It makes him seem… almost softer. 

“Thought you might have bailed on me,” J mutters into your ear as the recruits begin to stretch. 

“Have a little more faith in me, for God’s sake,” you grumble in return. You may not like him, but you aren’t about to abandon your responsibilities just because of a little bit of distaste. 

“Do you wanna take warm-up, or should I?” He offers, motioning to the recruits. They all look so nervous, so desperate to prove themselves on the first day of training. It reminds you of yourself, like you’re looking into a mirror and a time machine all at once. 

“You’re the boss,” you say, unabashedly letting the bitterness seep through your tone. “You choose.”

Unsurprisingly, J decides to let you handle the warm-up session, something that is just a precursor to the main event and therefore, not as important. He takes a couple of steps back and follows your instructions as you go through stretches and basic movements in combat, allowing all of the recruits to get a feel for what knighthood is really like in the Kingdom of Kalar. Warm-up was always your least favorite part during training, so boring in comparison to the sparring and hand-to-hand combat that you would engage in soon after. Sure, it was necessary, but when you were a wide-eyed, overeager trainee, you were willing to risk a pulled muscle if it meant you could beat someone up sooner. 

With this in mind, you wrap up the session in a fairly timely manner, letting the recruits do their own stretching after everything absolutely necessary has been covered. It also means that you can sit back and let J do most of the heavy lifting, which, while you’re bitter about him getting all of the attention, is better than having to do it yourself based solely upon memory. You remember combat well enough to handle yourself in the battlefield, but the technicalities of training have completely slipped your memory by now. 

J and everything else about him may leave a sour taste in your mouth, but you have to admit that he’s a good teacher and an even better morale booster. This must come from his experience out in the field, on the front lines, where raising his troops’ spirits came as a necessary quality to develop when times were tough. 

He speaks slowly, explains everything in enough detail to cover all of the bases without losing attention, and frequently opens up the floor for questions. And as per usual, the recruits already begin to cling to him like vines, desperate to soak up every ounce of knowledge that he doles out. 

J doesn’t need the ego boost, that’s for certain. 

“Now that I’ve gone through everything, I believe that the best way to learn how to spar is just to start doing it, even if you haven’t the slightest clue what you’re doing. Despite what you may think about me, experience is the best teacher,” he says with a smile, earning a laugh from the crowd. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Um, sir?” A timid recruit raises her hand, her body curled in on herself. You take one look at her, and know that she’ll come out of her shell soon enough. 

“Yes, a question?” J asks. 

“Would you mind giving a demonstration? Just so we can watch. So we, well, don’t injure ourselves or each other while we’re sparring.”

A demonstration? You blink, having awoken from the trance you had placed yourself in one J stepped up to take over the training session. Doesn’t a demonstration mean… well, you and him?

J seems to come to this realization at the same time that you do, and grins wildly, giddy. He knows exactly how much you’ll hate doing this, which is all the more reason to say yes. “Of course, we’d be happy to. Y/N?”

You hold in the sigh you’ve been wanting to let out for about five minutes now, taking a deep exhale as you turn to face J. You’ve been in close proximity to him before, but you are about to get a whole lot closer. 

“If you say so,” you say with a shrug, trying to keep this as lighthearted and casual as possible. Though, both of those things are likely to be tossed out the window now that you’re about to spar with your worst enemy. 

J grabs a mat from the side of the room to lay down on the floor in front of you, and the two of you step onto it. Instantly, you’re transported back to when you were still in training, bouncing up and down on your feet with your fists raised in front of you, ready to take on the next recruit. You had always been quite good at sparring, back then. 

Now is a completely different story. 

“Are you ready?” J asks as you face each other in front of a crowd of recruits, all of whom are watching you with hawk-like intensity. 

“Guess I can’t say ‘no’, can I?” You joke, though if J offers you a way out of this, you’d gladly take it, shame and dignity be damned. 

“Well then, do your worst.”

He’s an open target. You’ve never been given an opportunity to sock him in the face before now, and you’d absolutely love to take it, but this is a sparring session, not a revenge session. That can be saved for a later date. Instead, you bounce on your feet like a nervous, excitable recruit, and aim for his neck. 

He easily dodges, but you expected that, and counter his attack with your leg. It goes back and forth like this, as your muscle memory kicks in and you remember exactly what sparring was like back in your training sessions. For a few seconds in the middle of it, you genuinely think you and him are on a pretty level playing field. 

And then—

One punch gone wrong and he’s got you lifted up off of the ground and onto his back, having grabbed your wrist at the perfect time to hoist you over his shoulder. You gasp in shock, body not necessarily remembering this part, and then—

He slams the both of you down onto the mat, your back hitting the cushion with a thud as the breathe gets knocked from your lungs. You definitely haven’t done this part in a while. 

You know the recruits are all watching you intently, but you refuse to lose like this, even if this is normally the part where the person pinned underneath the other one surrenders. With both of your arms and all of your force, you attempt to shove J off of you by using your elbow to punch him in the chest. If you go down (which you most certainly will), you will go down with a fight. 

He sees your move coming from a mile away, and immediately pins both of your arms above your head with a simple swish of his hand. The other one is holding up his body by your head as you both stare at each other, breathing heavily. His leg sits in between both of yours, resting up against your thigh, and his head hovers a very dangerous less-than-three inches away from your own. If a particularly near-sighted person were to stumble upon the both of you, you’d be absolutely screwed. 

The both of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a second, the wind knocked out of you. You never quite realized what his face looks like up close. His cheeks are bright red. But it’s a second too long because the recruits have gone silent, refusing to applaud or do anything else to signal that the sparring match is over. 

And then, it feels like a million years pass as J slowly removes himself from on top of your body, standing up and dusting his hands off before leaning down and offering his hand to help you up. Too floored and absolutely speechless to reject his extended palm like you normally would, you grab onto his hand and let him hoist you up, unable to speak. 

“How was that for a demonstration?” J asks the recruits, who are all blinking like they’ve just witnessed something far too shocking for their liking. 

Another trainee, a boisterous young man who walked into today’s session with his energy fully up and his eyes on the prize, raises his hand. “Could you show us again?”

You and J take one look at each other. 

No. Way. 

♚ HERE ♚

Because your office is both tightly knit and also uncannily resembles a cast of grown adults playing various high school stereotypes in a Hallmark movie, every year you do Office Superlatives. Office superlatives are basically an excuse for everyone to come up with a way to insult each other 1) while getting paid to do so and 2) without facing any repercussions whatsoever. 

For three years in a row, your office has designated you as “Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Really Important”, a superlative that came about because on your very first day, you spilled your coffee on the one and only Kim Namjoon, who you then mistook as your boss, and thus ensued the most embarrassing one minute and thirteen seconds of your entire life in front of a bunch of colleagues you would have to see every weekday for the foreseeable future. 

Thankfully, you haven’t spilled your coffee on anyone important since then, even if you do regularly knock over your pencil cup and send every pastel-colored highlighter flying across the hardwood floor. It became such a frequent occurrence that, for April Fool’s Day last year, Taehyung and Jimin taped every single thing on your desk to your desk to see how long it would take you to notice. 

(It took you over three weeks, but that’s besides the point.)

“I know that the saying is ‘the customer is always right’, but this client I’m working with right now is literally wrong,” Taehyung says with a sigh. He collapses back in his office chair, mindlessly playing with the fur of the stuffed Pomeranian dog he keeps on his desk, staring down the email on his desktop. “Like, I’m not Squarespace or Wix. Either you pay me to design your website entirely, or you do it yourself. I’m not a drag-and-drop of a person, and I don’t get paid to be consulted on every font choice.”

“Didn’t you write on your resume that you can identify every standard Microsoft font without being told the name?” Yoongi asks with a frown from across the office. He’s making the most of his gigantic desktop computer, and has a tab open with One Punch Man right next to a Photoshop logo design he’s working on. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it,” Taehyung says with a frown. “I need someone who knows how to let people down easily.”

“Jimin?” Hoseok pipes up unhelpfully, earning an eraser to the face from Jimin, who is notorious for going on a bunch of first dates and very, very seldom going on a second one. You don’t even think that for the entire time you’ve known him, he’s ever gone a third date with someone. Ever. 

“Do not make fun of my lifestyle choices!” Jimin shouts out defensively. “I just like meeting new people.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says like a white girl in a Disney Channel Original Movie, “and then never meeting them again.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” Jimin tells him pointedly, already beginning to stand up from his office chair to attempt to further convince him that serial-first-dating isn’t all that bad. “Two weeks ago, I saw this guy that I had gone on a date with last year and he told me that his friend was starting up a small pet barbershop business and needed help with the graphic design for his company. Now I’m designing this guy’s logo and backsplash for his wall.” He says matter-of-factly. 

Hoseok frowns. “So, what I’m hearing is that you saw a guy you had gone on a date with last year, and what you got out of it, was more work.”

Jimin opens his mouth to say something else, but he flounders. Hoseok cackles to himself, shaking his head because Jimin’s just proved his point further. 

“I’ll ask Seokjin,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “He could tell me that I’ve lost my job and that I’m getting evicted from my apartment and I would thank him.”

Amen. 

“Hey, where is Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, spinning around in his office chair for the most efficient way to scan the entire office in search of the man. “He was just here watching One Punch Man with Yoongi.”

“I didn’t even notice he had gotten up,” Yoongi says, turning to the empty spot next to him where Seokjin once was. 

“I’ll go look for him, I need to grab something from the printer, anyway,” you volunteer, pushing your chair back, standing up, and avoiding the gazes of anybody in the office who happens to have knowledge of your not-so-secret secret crush. This means that you are staring down at the lines of the wooden planks in the floor as you walk over to the back hallway, because every single person in the room currently has at least… well… some insight. 

“He’s all yours, Y/N,” Taehyung wolf whistles, making you roll your eyes as you head down the hallway.  

Too busy counting the planks that make up the hardwood floor and hoping that you’ll maybe be able to identify Seokjin by the shoes he’s wearing rather than anything else, you don’t look at where you’re going as you make a beeline for the printing room. That is, you make a beeline for the printing room until you crash right into an unsuspecting colleague. 

“Oh, shit!” Said colleague cries out.

Oh God. 

You look up to find Seokjin standing in front of you, a nearly-empty cup of low-grade office coffee in his hand, and a growing brown stain on his pale blue dress shirt. One look on the floor and there’s a puddle of coffee gathered at your feet, wet splotches on your flats and his loafers. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide and apologetic as he immediately searches for some place to put down his coffee to avoid any more casualties. He looks right at you, making you want to curl in on yourself, before his eyes train down to your torso.

Only then do you realize he’s not shamelessly staring at your chest, but rather at the massive brown stain on the front of your blouse, quickly seeping into the fabric, the scalding temperature of the coffee having gone right over your head the moment you realized who exactly it was that you crashed into. 

“Uh…” you stammer, brain crashing as everything that’s just happened in the past thirty seconds catches up to you all at once. 

“Oh my God, I’m such a mess,” Seokjin says, fumbling awkwardly as he finally finds a trash can to toss his sad lump of a coffee cup into.

No you’re not, you want to tell him, but the words don’t come out and you’re left standing there, looking sort of like you blame him for everything, when in reality, you just have no idea how to function in front of him. 

“Coffee stains,” Seokjin says, hands fishing through his seemingly bottomless pants pockets (he could probably fit an entire Nintendo Switch and its dock in there) until he pulls out this measly little thing that vaguely resembles your orange highlighter. “Here, I have a Tide To-Go pen.”

Before you can tell him that you can just deal with the stain and wash it in the privacy of your own home where you don’t look like a bumbling idiot, he grabs your hand and pulls you into the gender neutral bathroom nearby, locking the door as the light flickers on. 

“Here, do you need help?” Seokjin asks, holding out his Tide To-Go pen as he wets a paper towel made of entirely recycled materials and begins fruitlessly dabbing at his shirt. 

“I’m alright, really,” you insist, staring into the mirror and trying desperately to avoid the fact that Seokjin’s shirt becomes transparent when it’s wet. Maybe quitting your job and moving to another city doesn’t sound unappealing after all. “I can just get it out with OxiClean at my apartment, Seokjin, seriously.”

“Are you sure? That’s what the Tide To-Go pen is for,” Seokjin says, holding it out towards you again as a final attempt to get you to use it. 

“No offense, Seokjin, but I don’t know if the Tide To-Go pen is even going to make a dent in the stain on my shirt,” you chuckle, the only thing you can think of to get him to stop offering the thing to you. The Tide To-Go pen is meant for when you accidentally get a bit of ketchup onto your jeans as you move the french fry from your plate to your mouth. Not when you’ve got a giant coffee stain on the front of your shirt. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Seokjin says, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt to try and get a better grip on the fabric as he relentlessly scrubs at it. God help you. He may as well take the whole thing off at this point—though you really, really hope that he doesn’t. “I’m such a klutz.”

“No, it’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you tell him. You still know that you passed by 107 wooden planks before you crashed into him, because that is what you do when you don’t want to look anyone in the eye. 

“Seriously, though, I had the cup of coffee. I feel really bad, I could pay to get it dry cleaned for you?” He offers, eyes wide and in search of some way to make it up to you. 

“No, no, that’s not necessary. I’m can handle a stain, Seokjin. I’m an adult. I live in my own apartment and everything,” you say firmly, refusing to accept anything else from him. God, if he paid for your dry-cleaning, you’d never be able to live that down. “Maybe I’ll finally stop being voted Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important,” you joke, trying to make light of the fact that you’re standing in the tiny gender-neutral bathroom together, Seokjin’s practically got half of his transparent dress shirt unbuttoned, and you both have massive and very conspicuous brown stains on your tops. All wonderful, wonderful things. 

At this point, Seokjin stares down at his shirt and, quite frankly, just gives up, smoothing out his shirt as best as he can and tossing the poor, now-coffee-colored paper towel away. 

“I suppose it’s high time we give you a break for always knocking over that pencil cup of yours,” Seokjin jokes back as he opens the door, motioning for you to leave first. 

“We should invest in some Velcro for it,” you suggest, making Seokjin chuckle as he shuts the door behind him. 

“Uh… what the fuck?” 

The two of you are stopped in your tracks by a particularly suspicious Taehyung, who just witnessed the two of you walk out of the same bathroom with both of your clothes fairly askew. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” you immediately tell him, eyes wide. Count on him to get the wrong idea. 

“Okay,” Taehyung says, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“Taehyung, come on, I spilled coffee on the both of us,” Seokjin attempts, but Taehyung is absolutely not having it. 

“That’s what they all say,” he says cryptically, nodding as he heads to the printer room with his eyes still narrowed. He glares at the both of you until he rounds the corner, out of sight, and by then your cheeks have heated up so badly you think you might actually start sweating.

“Now the whole office is going to think we’re dating,” you say, somewhat jokingly but also somewhat seriously. There’s no way Taehyung’s going to be able to keep his mouth shut for any longer than the next five minutes. 

Seokjin laughs, looking at you and shrugging. “There are worse things, right?”

Are there?

♚ THERE ♚

“Oh, Y/N!”

You inhale. 

Of all of the places in the Kingdom that J has not yet infiltrated and ruined for you, the small cafe on the edge of the kingdom borders has to have been the last one. You discovered it while you were on night watch as a baby knight, a task given to those too dedicated to the job to release but not yet prepared enough to fight on the front lines. It’s a quiet place, open more hours of the day than closed, owned by an old lady with no other family to take care of the business. You’ve already promised her that after she passes, you will immediately begin funding the cafe yourself, too much money on your hands and not enough wonderful places like this to spend it on.

When days are loud and hectic, when the King and Queen and all of their military advisors are stressed and have been snapping at you all day, this is where you come. The old lady keeps her door open especially for you (at least that’s what she tells you), always with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and a wise old story to tell you. Sometimes, you’ll get to tell a story back, and you exchange words of wisdom from a knight at the highest ranking in the kingdom and an elder with many years of experience in the kingdom behind her. She always tells you, “keep your eyes wide and your heart open, because things can only enter it if you’re looking out for them.”

You’ve held those words close to your soul ever since the first time you heard them. 

But when your eyes are wide and staring down a certain knight in the kingdom who seems to have stumbled upon your one sacred place, you’re a little bothered, to say the least.

You exhale.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say sourly, the scalding tea burning your tongue as you take a sip. 

“I’ve never seen this place before,” J admits helplessly, already bowing to the old lady who runs the place. He introduces himself handsomely, and much like everyone else bewitched by his good looks and unrealistically charismatic personality, she immediately warms up to him. 

“I wish it could stay that way,” you mumble to yourself, far too quiet for anyone except you and your tea to hear. “It’s far away,” you say to him as the lady ushers him to the seat next to yours, already promising him tea on the house. You sigh. “Wouldn’t expect you to go hunting for a nice tea place when there are so many wonderful places in the city.”

“I guess it’s nice to branch out,” J says with a shrug. “I have to say that I don’t really go out to cafes all that often. Too busy.”

“You know I understand how that goes,” you tell him honestly. For once, it’s something you can actually relate to. “But I think that it’s important to take a break from our duties and just relax. We don’t have much time to do that, you know.”

The lady brings over tea, and J insists he pay her for it despite her insistence for him not to. She shuffles off into the back before he can even get out some coins.

“Tell me, where can I leave this? I feel terrible not paying,” J asks you. It catches you off guard, really, mostly because he seems to be the kind of person who walks around the center square winking at every vendor in the hopes of receiving free merchandise. 

“Oh,” you say, embarrassingly speechless. “Well, I suppose I could take it and give it to her. If we left rather soon then we could simply leave it on the counter for her to find. It’s likely that she won’t come back out for a while, since I have company.”

“Am I your company, Y/N?” J asks, almost teasingly. It makes you want to chuck your cup of jasmine tea into his face. 

“Don’t think too much of it,” you advise him, a warning to tell him to knock it off. “We’re just here together.”

“Lucky us,” J says, holding up his cup of tea for a toast. You indulge him (begrudgingly so), letting your glasses clink together as you both finish a much needed warm drink on a chilly afternoon. 

Too soon, the respite of the cafe is broken by a knock at the door. You both turn to find a messenger waiting patiently outside the cafe, motioning for J to come and speak to him. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” J says, scooting back his chair and heading over, shutting the door behind him. 

The moment the door closes, the old lady reappears from the back of the room, collecting your finished cups as you both listen intently to the murmuring outside. 

“That young man mentioned that the two of you spend lots of time together,” the muses, cleaning the cups with a wet rag. She’s got a knowing look in her eye, like she’s picked up on something the both of you seem to have overlooked. 

“We’re both knights,” you correct. It’s important to you that she knows that you don’t spend time together out of personal preference. It’s merely obligation. “So we see each other quite often.”

“I’ve never seen him around before,” she says pointedly, “but he seems to know quite a lot about you.”

“Oh, not really,” you insist. How could he? You’ve barely known him a month. Still, it’s clear that the lady doesn’t believe you. 

“As you say,” she says, skeptical. 

You’re about to open your mouth and reject her notions further, but then the door opens up again, and J looks terribly apologetic as he walks inside, joining your side. “We’ve been called in.”

As per usual, the Kingdom appears with impeccable timing to ruin the rest of your afternoon. It has a striking tendency to do that. 

“For what?” You ask, exasperated. J doesn’t look much happier. 

“Criminal hearings,” J says, and the words make you you toss your head back and sigh. 

Criminal hearings and its many, many procedures are quite possibly your least favorite part of being a top-ranked royal knight. With your knowledge of the ins and outs of the military and the kingdom’s inner workings, as well as with you being an advisor to the generals and the King and Queen, you are often obligated to attend these, just in case there is a desperate need for the technicalities of military crimes that no one else can provide. It is, admittedly, extremely boring, since you can’t really offer any sort of insight or opinion on the actual criminal and their crime at hand. 

“Fine,” you say, suddenly much less energized than you were approximately thirty seconds ago. “I suppose that we’ll have to be on our way.”

“Ma’am,” J says, attracting the attention of the old lady behind the counter. He holds out some coins, palm facing up. “Please accept this from me. I couldn’t leave without paying you for your wonderful tea and service.”

“Oh, pish posh,” the lady says with a shake of her hand. “Any friend of Y/N’s is well-deserving of some tea. You both work very hard. You should take any opportunity that presents itself to relax, and enjoy being young.”

“Please,” J insists, placing the coins in her hand, “a token of my gratitude. We shall return soon, right Y/N?” He gives your shoulder a nudge, making you look up at him. Return? You’d be blessed if J forgot about this place entirely, though you know that he’s bound to come back soon. 

Perhaps there are worse things than losing your favorite cafe to him. Perhaps, you can simply learn to enjoy his company, instead. 

“Of course, how could I resist?” You say, waving goodbye to the lady at the counter. “We really must be going, but I shall see you soon.”

“Take care of yourselves, the both of you!” She sees you off with a smile and a wink directed right at you for a cause you aren’t too keen on picking up. Old ladies are always so vague. 

When you walk outside, you’re surprised to find yourselves alone. “Where’s the messenger guard?” You ask, looking around to see if he’s found a tree to take respite from the sun under. 

J laughs, warm and hearty. “I sent him off, told him we would be able to make it ourselves.”

“Oh, alright,” you say with a shrug, already beginning to trudge the familiar path towards the castle. 

You take six steps before realizing that J is neither next to you nor following you, still standing on the porch of the cafe as the sun makes his hair glimmer a dark caramel in the light. 

“Aren’t you coming?” You turn around to ask, an eyebrow raised as you tap your foot on the cobblestone road. 

“Have you ever skipped a criminal hearing before, Y/N?” J asks, and the very notion of bailing makes your eyes go wide. 

“Skipped?” You clarify. 

“That’s what I said,” J confirms. 

“No…” You trail off, feeling more and more like the try hard you once were while training, wide-eyed and eager to prove yourself. Standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on your toes and twiddling your fingers as he steps off of the porch, taking long strides to reach you, makes you feel so nervous. With every step he takes closer to you, your heart begins to beat faster, faster, faster. 

“Well,” J says, reaching out his hand to take hold of your own. “Would you like to start?”

When you were stationed on the Kingdom’s borders, you thought you had explored every nook and cranny of Kala. You had wandered through forests, across rivers, and into small edge villages with goods you had never even heard of before. You thought you had seen it all. 

Clearly, you were mistaken. 

J pulls you off of the cobblestone path and immediately takes you into the woods that surround the cafe, weaving past trees and ferns and grass alike. This time of year, the forest is ripe with greenery, right when summer is coming to an end but the leaves have yet to begin to fade to brown. Even without landmarks or a path to guide him, J seems to know exactly where the two of you are going, like he’s taken this road a million times before. And still, you had never seen him before this. 

It’s a wonder that the two of you missed each other for so long. 

“Where are we going, J?” You ask, laughing as the exhilaration of skipping your duties in favor of a fun day in the forest begins to flow through your veins. You’ve never done this before. 

“Just wait, you’ll see,” he says cryptically, taking you down a large hill. You must be out of the Kingdom borders by now, with how far you’ve been going, and yet, no one had ever thought to place guards in this area. 

Five more minutes of travelling and you’re near convinced that J is about to take you to some cave in the floor of the forest and murder you, when he tugs you up a hill to reveal—

It’s a clearing with grass so green you’d almost think it was enchanted. The leaves of the trees whisper to each other, voices flowing with the wind that breezes by each and every one, saying hello to the branches as they rustle. Tall grass and ferns grow on the edge of the forest, disguising the clearing to anyone who wouldn’t bother to keep looking, make their way through the overgrowth and into the oasis. 

Never in a million years would you have been able to find this place on your own. 

“What do you think?” J asks excitedly as he pulls you into the middle of the clearing, where the leaves of the trees have left an opening for the sun to shine through, a halo in the middle of the forest. 

“I—I’m speechless,” you say, eyes wandering from every piece of bark to every blade of grass. You’ve always loved your Kingdom and its beauty, from the extravagant castle to the little shacks on the border, but this is more than that. This isn’t just beauty—it’s magic. “How did you find this place?”

“Strayed from the pack during military training outside,” he says guiltily. Clearly, skipping out on responsibilities has become a habit of J’s. 

“Unbelievable,” you say, fingers tracing along the wildflowers growing close to the forest floor. You take a seat in the middle of it all, letting the sun stream through the leaves as the flowers open their petals at your touch. It’s as if every single living thing has been enchanted—like none of this could exist naturally. 

“Do you like it?” J asks, taking a seat on the stone next to you. He reaches down to run his fingers through the grass, letting the soft dirt gather on his skin. 

“I don’t think I have the words,” you tell him. You thought you had found a hidden respite from the hustle and bustle, but he has found not just a respite. He’s found a home. “Why would you show me this place?”

“What do you mean?” J asks. He finds a small yellow flower, a buttercup, and plucks it from the ground, twirling it between his fingers.

“I mean, why would you bring me here? Wouldn’t you want to keep this place all for yourself?” You inquire, curious. Certainly, that’s what you would do. 

J pauses for a moment, staring down at the buttercup in his hands. Wordlessly, he hands it to you, watches as your fingers touch his own, taking the buttercup from him. You twirl it between your fingers, and wonder what all of this means. 

“No,” he eventually answers. “Because a place like this deserves to be shared with the people that deserve to see it.”

♚ HERE ♚

[You have 5 unread messages]

Jungkook (5:53PM): Is it still acceptable to talk about Kingdom at company dinners? Jungkook (5:53PM): Is the ban that Yoongi instated last company dinner still going? Do you think he’ll be mad if I talk about how I just got a bunch of gold from solving the mystery of the time capsule?

Yoongi (5:55PM): If I have to sit through another company dinner where everyone is talking about Kingdom and nobody is talking about anime or my dog Holly I will lose it

Taehyung (5:57PM): You’re coming, right? You mentioned having a thing that ended pretty late this evening so you weren’t sure you’d make it

Seokjin (6:03PM): Excited to see you tonight! Promise I won’t spill anything on you tonight haha

Your office’s annual company dinner is the one and only opportunity you, as employees, get per year to talk about whatever you like in front of your colleagues, all while getting a meal paid for by your wonderfully unassuming, hardheaded boss. It is both a celebration of camaraderie and, of course, being employed, and a chance for your personal group to talk about Kingdom for two hours straight without repercussions. 

Needless to say, many of you are looking forward to it. 

To Jungkook (6:07PM): Yes, but only if we get to talk about how I’m still the best at the game out of everyone To Jungkook (6:07PM): Also, don’t forget to talk to Yoongi about My Hero Academia I know that you secretly love it

To Yoongi (6:08PM): Bring earplugs? Or maybe a manga book to get the conversation going?

To Taehyung (6:08PM): Yeah, I’ll be there To Taehyung (6:08PM): Probably be late though To Taehyung (6:09PM): Save me a seat!

To Seokjin (6:10PM): Not sure if I can promise the same thing! Fingers crossed we make it out tonight unscathed by scalding hot liquids

The company dinner starts at 6:30, which means that it really starts at 7:00 by the time everyone arrives, but even still, you’ll probably be late because you are actually doing last-minute laundry, and not attending a special event like you had told Taehyung. Sue you. Your clothes were dirty. 

Standing in the middle of your apartment wearing the slouchiest clothes you own, you wonder if it’s even worth going when you know that you will probably 1) be late and 2) have to endure two hours worth of Kingdom talk and other things that leave you thoroughly embarrassed, like your nonexistent love life. 

You’ve never skipped out on a company dinner before, but then again, never have all of your colleagues been so on top of you about your very insignificant, not at all soul-crushing, extremely minimal, super unimportant, tiny little infatuation with a certain coworker, so there’s that to consider. 

Not to mention the fact that your entire office genuinely believes that the two of you hooked up in the gender neutral bathroom during the middle of the workday, which is a circumstance so improbable you have no idea how Taehyung managed to convince everybody that that was actually what happened. It’s not as if your coworkers didn’t see the ridiculous brown stains on the front of your and Seokjin’s shirts, or didn’t smell the office coffee stench all over the both of you. 

So, for once in your life, you are genuinely considering just staying at home, finishing your laundry, and eating the frozen veggie burritos you bought from Costco two weeks ago. It sounds very tempting.

This thought is immediately combated by the fact that you usually have some of the most fun during the year at this company dinner, and a free meal at a nice, upscale restaurant is something that you would normally never pass up. But then again, Seokjin will be there and he will be dressed very nicely, and the rest of your coworkers will also be there, and they will be relentless. 

Jungkook (6:33PM): Tae said you’d be late but please come soon! We can’t talk about Kingdom without the best player present!!!! Jungkook (6:33PM): Oh no Namjoon sees me with my phone

And out of every possible text you could have received that night, that one is the one that convinces you to pull out the same dress you’ve worn to the company dinner (it’s not as if anyone else will remember) every other year, tug it on, and head out. Your Costco veggie burritos will have to wait for another stay-at-home night. 

You arrive fashionably late as always, walking into the restaurant and just asking for directions to where the “big group of loud office workers” is, a term easily identifiable by the scrambled hostess with fifteen different tables to seat all at once. She points you to the back room, where you can already hear Hoseok’s laughter from outside in the main dining area. 

“You guys are loud,” you say in lieu of a greeting, everyone letting out cries of “Y/N!” and “You made it!” as you look around for the last empty seat. 

“Here, saved you a spot right next to me,” Seokjin volunteers helpfully, motioning to the empty velvet chair next to him. In the seat next to that sits Taehyung, who is grinning guiltily, like he didn’t just dupe you into thinking he had saved you a seat next to him and someone else other than the person you were hoping not to embarrass yourself in front of. 

“Thinking of me when I’m not even here, how thoughtful,” you say, walking over and sending a glare Taehyung’s way as you take your seat, the glass at the top right corner of your placemat already filled. 

“How could we forget about you?” Seokjin reasons, and he says it so casually but it makes your heart flutter all the same. 

When Seokjin’s finally started talking to Hoseok and Jimin on his other side, the two of them attempting to explain the inner workings of Kingdom to him (to little avail, as per usual), you round on Taehyung, who is every bit the best wingman and the worst friend in the entire world. 

“How could you do this to me?” You hiss at him, trying not to attract the attention of the man sitting on the opposite side of you. 

“I said I had saved you a seat!” Taehyung says defensively, clearly enjoying himself way too much. 

“This was not what I had in mind,” you tell him pointedly. 

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have hidden it from you,” Taehyung says. He motions to Seokjin, who’s laughing at something that Jimin’s just said, eyes crinkled into half moons as the waiter places the cocktail he’s ordered down in front of him. “You know, it’s not so bad having a crush on him, right?”

“He is our coworker and way out of my league, of course it is,” you remind Taehyung. 

Taehyung shrugs you off with a wave of his hand. “Give yourself some credit, Y/N. You’re hot. Embrace it.”

“I will not, thank you very much. This conversation makes me want to hurl,” you say as normally as possible, blinking to show your discomfort to Taehyung. 

“You need to stop being so afraid of what might actually come out of this,” Taehyung says, a reassuring hand on your arm. “You never know what might happen.”

“What’s definitely going to happen is that I’m going to feel too cold from the vent above my head, and we’re going to switch seats,” you say. You immediately make to stand up, but Taehyung grabs onto your wrist and looks up at you like a child begging for candy in a supermarket. 

“Please, Y/N? Just give it a try, and if you hate it by the time the entree comes around, we can switch. Alright?” He asks, a simple compromise to get you to sit back down. 

You sigh. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot, no matter how terrible your aim is. 

“I didn’t order any soup, so hopefully we can last through this dinner without ruining more of our clothes,” Seokjin says, an icebreaker to ease the obvious tension between the two of you. He breaks down your walls so easily, carves out a path in the side of it to waltz right through. 

“I don’t know,” you say sarcastically,” you better finish that cocktail soon or we might both be in big trouble.”

Seokjin chuckles, warm and full, and takes another sip of the fruity drink for good measure. “Don’t know how you keep getting crowned Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important when I’m here, a walking coffee volcano.”

“When the superlatives roll around, I’ll petition the court and see if we can crown you instead,” you promise. 

“I’m honored. I’ll cherish that title for as long as I live,” Seokjin jokes, bowing to you just for good measure. “This is nice, you know.”

“What is?” You ask, peering down at the large group menu. Everything looks awfully delicious and awfully expensive, so you just go for a classic pasta dish and hope that Taehyung orders something different, so you can try each other’s. 

“Sitting next to you,” Seokjin says like it’s obvious, making you blink at your menu like it’s just offended your entire family ancestry. “I don’t think we’ve ever been paired up like this at a company dinner.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” You ask hopefully. 

“It’s nice,” Seokjin says. “I feel like we don’t get to talk very much at work.”

“You said you’d bring more doughnuts,” you remind him. Seokjin has held up on his promise, actually, and since the first round of doughnuts, he’s brought on two more occasions to brighten up everybody’s day. 

“I think I need a better excuse than doughnuts,” Seokjin says to himself. “I can’t keep going to Dunkin’ right before work, pretty soon all of the workers will know me by name and that is a level that I’m not sure I’d like to reach yet.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you tell him, a hand instinctively coming to rest on his shoulder as comfort. “Some of the Costco employees recognize me even when I’m wearing my sunglasses inside.”

“You wear your sunglasses inside Costco?” Seokjin asks with a laugh. 

“Sometimes I just forget to take them off when I walk from my car into the store!” You say defensively. “It’s really bright in there, sue me.”

“No, no, I think it’s cute,” Seokjin assures you. “Maybe being recognized by the Dunkin’ employees won’t be that bad. At least they probably wouldn’t know who I was if I had my sunglasses on.”

“I’m being attacked, I’m pretty sure,” you say pointedly. 

“Only affectionately. You’re still ridiculously endearing.” Seokjin says with a chuckle, smiling at you as Jungkook calls your name to tell him something about Kingdom that he’s forgotten. But even as Seokjin gets tugged into another conversation and you get pulled into your own, your brain can’t help but replay the sound of his voice in your head, over and over. 

You’re still ridiculously endearing.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jimin asks over a mouthful of complimentary bread with olive oil. “Did you ever figure out who knocked Y/N from the top spot in Kingdom?”

“No,” Jungkook cries out, suddenly thirsty for justice. “It makes me so mad that I don’t know who they are, especially since they’re getting all the in-game brand deals and Y/N gets nothing,” he says pointedly as he motions to you, clearly exasperated for a cause that wasn’t even his to begin with. 

“Jungkook, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a game,” you remind him, the table too wide to reach over and pat his hand comfortingly. “I still get a lot of things in second place.”

“What’s Jungkook talking about?” Seokjin asks, motioning to where Jungkook seems to be on a rampage as Jimin and Namjoon listen in. 

“Oh, Kingdom, like always,” you say fondly. “He’s determined to figure out the name of the person who dethroned me.”

“Is that so?” Seokjin asks with a laugh. “He’s got his work cut out for him. How many people play Kingdom?”

“Hundreds of thousands, probably,” you say. “Maybe millions.”

“Millions of people, and somehow we ended up with the second-best player in the game right at this table,” Seokjin says with a grin. “We should be honored.”

“It’s just a game,” you remind him, even though the sentiment is awfully sweet. “I think I much prefer the real world, don’t you?”

Seokjin smiles at you as the waiter comes around to offer him another cocktail. 

“Another one, sir?”

Seokjin looks down at the cocktail, then at your unstained clothes, and he shakes his head, laughing to himself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.” The waiter nods, taking his empty glass and moving onto another coworker. He looks at you, and his eyes are swimming in stars. “I think that I do, too.”

Dinner ends with Hoseok and Jungkook gobbling down everybody’s leftovers, your boss paying the bill without even glancing at the check, and you laughing alongside Seokjin, who keeps your end of the table entertained with fantastic stories about his past job at a luxury department store and less-than-fantastic dad jokes that he prides himself for coming up with on the spot. 

Taehyung had nudged you when the entrees had come around, motioning to the vent above your head, but you hadn’t even noticed the cold. 

“Ugh,” Jimin says with a groan as the group of you head outside once everyone is finished, the chilly night air hitting your skin as you open the door. “I hate that we could only schedule this for a Wednesday, because it means we have to come into work again tomorrow.”

“When else are we supposed to schedule it for?” Yoongi asks with a frown. “Did you even look at the When2Meet? Nobody had any free time for the rest of the month.”

“Well, if everyone’s cleared their schedules just for this dinner, anyone want to keep the celebration going at my apartment? I just bought a box of wine from Trader Joe’s,” Jimin asks. 

“On a Wednesday?” Yoongi says, nose scrunched up in disapproval. 

“Yeah, when else would you drink boxed Trader Joe’s wine?” Jimin responds like it’s obvious. 

Everyone begins to either disperse back to their cars or get Jimin’s address so they can get wine drunk on a Wednesday like you’re supposed to, leaving you and Seokjin out of the crowd. 

“Are you heading over to Jimin’s?” He asks you as you begin to walk towards your cars, taking a step every five seconds as you watch Jimin tell everybody his exact address, loudly and slowly enough for any burglars and axe-wielding murderers within a three-mile radius to also hear him. 

“No, I think I’ll just head home for the night,” you say, checking the time on your phone. It’s nearly ten, already. Where did the time go?

“Ah, then I guess I will, too,” Seokjin says. “Oh, here’s my car.”

“You parked close,” you comment. 

“I thought that I’d be late because I arrived at 6:45, but I was the second one here,” Seokjin tells you, making you laugh. 

“Sounds like our office, doesn’t it?”

“I guess. We’ll have to do this again sometime just to see how late everyone shows up,” Seokjin says. 

“Promise I’ll be early next time,” you say. 

“Next time, then?” Seokjin asks, already opening his car door and beginning to step inside. You stand on the sidewalk in front of him, watching as he pulls the door shut and waves to you through the windshield. A next time sounds awfully nice. 

“Next time.”

♚ THERE ♚

The King and Queen never do find out about your truancy, though you have to admit, you were never really worried about that in the first place. Not when J was grinning as he told you he had sent the messenger guard off, laughing as he dragged you through the forest, smiling as he twirled a buttercup between his fingers. He had done it before and he’ll do it again, and look where that’s gotten him. 

Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him. 

Still, despite your high ranks, the two of you can’t avoid your responsibilities forever. Eventually, you will always have to report back to the castle, get a new assignment, and start the cycle all over again. 

“At least they’re letting us go together,” J reasons as the two of you nod to the knights standing guard at the border of the kingdom, by the main forest that leads directly to a kingdom with whom your relationship isn’t all that strong. No wars have broken out between your two lands in years, but never has stability been one-hundred percent earned, which means that both kingdoms must be on high alert. You never know when a rebel group will attempt to invade the land. 

“Like I’d want to spend any more time with you,” you joke, giving J a nudge in the side as you stroll along the forest edge. In the middle of the day with the sun high above your heads, neither of you are particularly worried about being attacked. It would be foolish for an enemy group to do so, especially at a time when the kingdom’s guards are the most awake. 

“Am I really such awful company?” J asks, and he’s smiling but he asks in such a way, it’s almost as if he means it. The two of you have never been on the best of terms, but you’ve found yourself growing out of the competition-fueled rage you once always found yourself in whenever you were near him. No longer is regaining your first place your most important priority. Rather, it’s doing your job and doing it correctly, upholding the duties that the kingdom has entrusted you with, regardless of who’s by your side. 

(Though, even if you’d never admit it, J makes quite good company, most of the time.)

“No,” you insist, a hand reaching out to rub comfortingly at his forearm. “You aren’t.”

“You think so?” J says with a laugh, almost bitter. “I must say, you’ve never been that fond of me.”

“You may have charmed your way into the rest of the kingdom’s hearts, but I needed some convincing,” you remind him, reminiscent of how he would tease you constantly, dangle his promotion right above your head like a trophy you’d never be able to reach. 

“Did I do a good job, then?” J asks, hands in his pockets. It’s a quiet day, today. Even the birds have begun to murmur. 

“You did quite alright,” you say, nudging him. “Though I must say, I absolutely hate how all of the vendor’s daughters fawn all over you and give you free items like fruit, and jewelry. I’m never given that treatment.”

“You just don’t have my naturally charming, handsome, soft looks,” J says, posing in front of you as the two of you walk. The obnoxiousness of it all makes you almost want to chuck the apple you’re about to eat right at his face. 

“What do you mean? I can be charming,” you say with a pout. You pretend to flip your hair, just for emphasis. 

“You and I are different types of charming,” J says casually. “You’re strong. You speak loudly and clearly and you don’t ever flounder. You always know exactly what you want, and know the best way to get it. You aren’t afraid of anything, and are always willing to take on any challenge that comes your way. It’s… it’s different.”

And even if he thinks you never flounder, never stumble over your words or stutter, for once, you can’t think of anything to say. You’re walking along the forest’s edge with a knight you had convinced yourself that you would never befriend, and he’s just told you all of these wonderful things about yourself you never would have known he’d thought otherwise. 

J’s right. It is different. This is different. And you can hardly remember when it started to be like this. Only one day, it was just like this, and it never stopped. 

“Do you really think all of those things about me?” You ask, staring down at your boots as you walk along the dirt path, kicking small pebbles as you go. They go flying off into the grass, never to be seen again. But sometimes, you come across one you had kicked a few steps back, and you try again, earnestly hoping to see how far it will go with you by its side. 

“I mean, well…” J says, stumbling. “I don’t just think those things about you, you know? They’re facts, aren’t they? Those are things that, well, I suppose, everyone would think about you. Right?”

“You know what I think?” You ask, looking up at him. His dark hair shimmers in the light, like reflects of gold have been sprinkled amongst the ink black. “We are different types of charming. You’re charismatic and friendly, always willing to listen. You accept things graciously and are always grateful for what you receive. You pay people back whatever they’ve given you, even if it’s not the same item, even if it’s just the thought that counts. You always want to do better, and then you do. You work hard for each thing you get, and you never take it for granted.”

J grins down at you. “But you don’t actually think that, do you?”

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “Just facts.”

“Just facts,” he echoes. 

When did talking to him become so easy? When did it all start coming to you naturally?

“Did you ever hate me?” He asks you, curious. He knows, he must, that that’s not the case anymore. 

“No,” you admit, perhaps more to yourself than to him. “I think that I just hated that you were better than me. But… like you said, it’s different now. Now, I don’t care if you’re better than me. That sort of competition makes me a better soldier. You make me a better soldier.”

“Really?” J wonders, genuine. His eyes are wide in surprise, shocked at such a candid admission coming from you. To be honest, you’re surprised with yourself, as well. “I had no idea.”

“Keep it up, then. You know—”

A taut string let go. 

The wind stopping in its tracks. 

And an arrow headed right for your heart. 

“Oh my God!” You shout quickly, unable to do much except alert the man next to you that the two of you are in imminent danger. 

Before you can even blink, close your eyes and wait for the tip to pierce your heart, J is pushing you out of the way, sending you flying to the forest floor and he pulls his bow from his back, sending a steel arrow flying in the direction of the woods. You both wait there, only a second but it’s a second too long, until you hear a thud on the ground, a final breath, and then—

Silence. 

The moment you’re both positive the assailant is dead, J turns to you, eyes wide. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m alright,” you assure him, telling him (and yourself) over and over as he pulls you up from the ground. Your heart is racing and you can’t quite seem to catch your breath, but you’re alive and so is he, and that’s all that matters. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he immediately says. “As long as you are.”

You look behind him to find an arrow stuck in a tree, but what alarms you more is the sight of blood on the tip. Immediately, you turn back to J, only to find the side of his arm covered in blood, bleeding right through his armor.

“Oh my God, J, you’re hurt,” you cry out, fumbling for something to stop the flow.

“I’m alright, Y/N, really,” he insists, placing a hand on top of your own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb for good measure. “It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”

“We have to take you back to the kingdom,” you push, already beginning to head back towards the gate. 

“I’ve suffered worse injuries, Y/N, seriously,” he tells you, hoping to ease the pit of worry in your stomach. “I’m a top-ranked knight who prefers the battlefield over anything else. I’ve broken bones, gotten stabbed, and nearly died. This? It’s nothing. Really. Please, don’t worry.”

“We still have to get you back to the Kingdom and patch you up,” you insist firmly. “Even if you say you’re alright.”

“Whatever you say, Miss Y/N.” J goes with you obligingly, lets you walk him back to the kingdom gates. 

You urge him into the local medical practitioner, sit him down on the bench and watch as the doctor bandages his wound, reminds him not to engage in any strenuous activity while it’s healing. He sits patiently, glaring at you slightly and rolling his eyes any time the doctor speaks, which is fairly frequently. It’s clear only one of you wants to be here right now, and it’s the one of you without a scratch on your body. 

When the doctor leaves to tend to another patient, you get up from where you’re seated and sit down next to him on the bench, resting your head on his shoulder. 

Working for the Kingdom makes you stronger. Sitting in the cafe makes you think. But being with him, standing by his side, it makes you wonder. It makes your heart race and your mind clear. It makes you feel safe. 

“I think you saved my life,” you whisper softly, clutching onto him like a lifeline, like if you let go, one of you will drown. 

But that’s not the case. Neither of you will let go. Not without the other. Never without the other. 

“Really?” He asks. He already knows the answer. 

“No, I know you did,” you tell him. Things are different now, but maybe they’ve always been like this. You just never noticed. “Because in a heartbeat, I would do the same for you.”

♚ HERE ♚

“I have not seen Seokjin all day,” Jimin comments loudly one day, making everyone immediately turn to Seokjins’ desk, which looks practically untouched. His computer is asleep, his chair is pushed in, and his desktop is empty. The only thing that suggests that the man is even here in the first place is the messenger bag resting against the desk drawers, though it doesn’t look like it’s even been opened today. 

“Probably too busy avoiding you,” Yoongi deadpans, earning a “zing!” from Hoseok that makes you feel even more like you’re standing in the middle of a high school movie made by people who don’t know what high school is like. 

“Is he even in today?” 

“He is,” you pipe up. “His bag is here.”

“Of course you would know!” Taehyung teases, and he earns a highlighter to the face for his trouble. 

“He’s probably just trying to get his work done in a place that doesn’t consist of screaming and constant insults being hurled across the room,” Jimin says with a sigh, turning back to his work. It’s a fair statement, especially when the environment in your office is most often distracting, loud, and not at all an ideal work environment. It’s an absolute wonder that any of you manage to get your work done while you’re here. 

“Y/N, wanna go hunt him down?” Taehyung suggests, sending a wink your way as your eyes widen. 

“No, absolutely not, no way. I will not be tricked by you again,” you say, very reminiscent of the last time you went to go look for Seokjin and ended up with a coffee-stained shirt and a group of coworkers who thinks the two of you hooked up that one time. 

“If you say so…” Taehyung says, voice trailing off as he turns back to his work. 

But for once in your life, Seokjin’s absence is more noticeable than ever. He’s become a fixture in your everyday office life, always stopping by your desk with a second cup of low-grade office coffee for you (with a lid, of course), sending you emails complaining about Jimin and Hoseok when they’re being loud, asking you for help on every one of his difficult font decisions for logo designs, drafting emails to clients with you. It’s a sort of closeness that you never really had before—sure, you worked together and often got paired up for projects, but it’s different now. Like you jumped ship on being just colleagues but instead of drowning, you began to float.

Five more minutes pass and you pretty much resign yourself to getting back to your work, knowing that Seokjin’s probably just grabbed his laptop and found a place where he can work in peace and quiet without Hoseok’s shrill voice interrupting his thoughts. You’ll have to ask him what place he’s discovered. 

When there are four minutes left in the workweek and you are finally beginning to close out of the fifteen thousand tabs open on your Google Chrome window, the door busts open. 

It doesn’t actually bust open, so much as Seokjin comes flying through it and it slowly goes to rest on the padded door frame like it’s been designed to. His tie is loose around his neck like he’s been tugging on it all afternoon, his laptop is clenched carefully between his arm and his torso, and he’s got a flurry of papers freeballing it in a stack in his hands. 

“Oh my God, what tornado did you come from?” Jimin asks as Seokjin rushes over to his desk, cramming everything into his tiny messenger bag that definitely isn’t meant to fit a laptop and a stack of papers that thick. 

“Sehun just dumped an entire project on me that’s due on Sunday at noon with no warning, and now I have to pull together fragments of a crumbling magazine label before their final review on Sunday afternoon,” he says, terribly out of breath. He’s scrambling to gather his belongings, crashing into anything within a two-foot radius of him. 

“Dude, what the heck? I’m gonna tell Namjoon to kick Sehun’s ass,” Hoseok says with a frown, nose scrunched up. “Do you need help?”

“No, no, I’m alright, I can do it,” Seokjin insists, rubbing a hand through his hair as he leaves before the clock has even struck five. 

“Are you sure? You look like you want to jump out of the window,” Hoseok asks again, just for clarification. He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Seokjin become so stressed in such a short period of time before. “At least let one of us help you get settled back into your apartment.”

To your right, Taehyung whispers into Jungkook’s ear, who then does this sort of weird hand movement to Hoseok, who nods understandingly. It looks suspiciously like they just plotted someone’s murder. 

“I can’t,” Jungkook says with an obnoxiously fake yawn, suddenly speaking much slower than usual, “I’m deadbeat tired.”

“Me neither,” Taehyung says, coughing in the way people do when they just want to get out of something. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

You whip your head around as everyone besides Yoongi comes up with an absolutely bullshit excuse not to accompany Seokjin to his apartment—Jimin says he has a date right after work and Hoseok says he needs to feed his puppy before he gets too hungry, leaving only you and a Yoongi that hasn’t been listening to the conversation whatsoever to vie for the spot. 

“Yoongi?” You ask, somewhat desperate not to be the one to accompany Seokjin to his apartment. You turn to your head to glare at Taehyung, who shamelessly coughs again when he meets your eyes, smiling guiltily. 

“Huh?” He asks, turning around. 

“Fine, you know what? I can come with,” you say with a sigh, already grabbing your belongings as Taehyung and Jungkook high-five next to you. 

“Oh, really? You’re a lifesaver, Y/N, you know that?” Seokjin says, and even when he’s stressed it’s like the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders once you volunteer, and you suppose that there are worse things that can happen than accompanying Seokjin to his apartment for ten minutes. 

Seokjin gives you the address of his place so that you can drive to it yourself, the both of you pulling into the parking garage underneath his apartment complex at the same time, waving to each other from adjacent parking spaces. 

“I really, really appreciate this, Y/N,” Seokjin says with a smile as he brings you into his apartment complex, nodding a friendly hello to the security officer in the lobby. “I know that it’s a Friday night and everything as well. You’d probably want to be doing something else.”

“Ah, yes, you know me, I frequent all of the clubs and bars in this city,” you say sarcastically as you walk into the elevator. Seokjin hits the button for the seventh floor and laughs. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. It was a dick move of Sehun to drop this on you when it’s due in, like, thirty-six hours.”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin says, exasperated as he leans back against the steel walls of the elevator. “I thought I would just get to go home this Friday night, pull up Netflix, and have a one-man movie night, but now I have to spend the next thirty-six hours doing this.”

“Well, you know all of us are just looking out for you, wanted to make sure you didn’t injure yourself from stress before you got back to your apartment,” you say as the elevator door dings. Seokjin leads you down the hallway to his door, sticking his key in and jiggling it until the door pops open. 

Admittedly, you have never been in Seokjin’s apartment, but you it was like you had already painted a picture of it in your head from his personality traits alone. You thought it would be fairly minimalistic, clean and neat, not too many flashy colors or kitschy items but things like photographs and magnets to make it feel like an office and more like a home. Pictured it as a sort of very simple, modern home, like the ones that celebrities live in because they can afford to keep their belongings clean all the time, because Seokjin looks exactly like a celebrity, gorgeous and put-together. 

Instead, Seokjin’s apartment is almost a hodgepodge of everything he could think to find to decorate, a stack of photobooks on his coffee table, slouchy leather couches wrinkled from wear, various kitchen supplies splayed all over his countertops. It’s the kind of place you can imagine him being in, existing in. You can see him standing behind his kitchen island with all of the ingredients and supplies for this wonderful dish he’s making littered across the counters. You can see him curled up on the couch, leaning against the corner of it to find that perfect spot, watching television. 

There’s a difference between owning a place, and living in it. Living in it makes it feels like a home, like it’s real, and not just for show. 

“Wow, your place is—”

“It’s really messy right now, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests,” Seokjin says, letting his messenger bag plop down on the ground as he scrambles to make his living space nicer for you. 

“No, I was going to say it’s lovely,” you tell him. “It feels exactly like you.”

“Does it?” Seokjin asks genuinely, a soft smile lacing his features. “Well then, thank you.”

You wait around in his apartment awkwardly, not really sure if stepping past the front of his couch is socially acceptable since you’re just “visiting” and he hasn’t officially invited you inside yet. The main objective of accompanying him to his apartment has already been accomplished: you made sure he got home safely and that he can do his work in peace. Finished. But even still, you’re hanging around, wondering when he’s going to kick you out for being a weird, unknown fixture in his home. 

“Um, would you like to stay for dinner? I made soup last night and I have way too much for me to eat on my own,” he offers, opening up his fridge and taking out an enormous pot. It clinks as it hits his countertop, the metal sound echoing throughout his apartment. 

“No, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say, taking this as your cue to remove yourself from the situation before you do anything else to make an absolute fool of yourself. 

“I insist, please,” Seokjin says, stopping you in your tracks. “I may have a whole project to finish by Sunday, but we should at least spend this Friday night together, right?”

You look down at your shoes before looking up at him, meeting his eyes from where he stands behind his counter island. 

“Then I will,” you say, removing your flats and padding over to where he stands, coming to a stop on the other side of the counter island. “But only if you let me help you with the project, too. It was asshole-y of Sehun to dump it all on you. At least let me handle some of the graphic aspects.”

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching his hand out over the counter, “you have a deal.”

This deal mainly consists of you eating some of Seokjin’s homemade soup on his couches, your laptops on his coffee table and that ridiculously thick stack of papers spread out amongst you. Seokjin already has a fair bit of information about the project at hand, but he still has absolutely zero progress since he received the assignment four minutes before the end of the workweek. 

“So, basically, what we have to do is re-organize the magazine’s overall design and aesthetic before their final review on Sunday, because if they don’t appeal to the publisher, they’re getting tanked,” Seokjin says, paging through the papers in search of a sketch. 

“So we’re their last hope,” you summarize. 

Seokjin nods. “We’re their last hope.”

“Great,” you say, not at all enthused. “No pressure at all.”

“I know. I’m so relaxed right now,” Seokjin says, clearly not relaxed. 

“You know what’s making me relaxed? This soup,” you say, finishing the last of what’s in your bowl. “It’s delicious. I didn’t know you cooked.”

“It’s just a hobby of mine,” Seokjin says with a shrug. “I picked it up when I moved to college and didn’t know how to make anything except toast.”

“You’re a very fast learner, then,” you say. “I’d pay you to make all of my meals, honestly.”

“Would you like more? I have a ton, so we can eat it all if you’d like,” he asks, already standing up and reaching his hand out for your bowl. 

You hand it over, shaking your head as he makes his way back to his little kitchen, ladling more soup into both of your bowls. “You’re too nice, Seokjin. Seriously. How am I supposed to pay back this kindness?”

Seokjin lets out a warm chuckle as he warms up your next serving in the microwave. “Believe me, Y/N, volunteering to take on this project with me with a due date in less than thirty-six hours is more than enough. You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No,” you tell him. “I want to. You deserve someone who’s willing to help you with big things like this. You shouldn’t have to deal with it all on your own.”

Seokjin grins as he returns, handing you your bowl of soup as you get back to work. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

What was supposed to be a couple of hours spent grinding out a project over a shared pot of soup turns into a night’s worth of work, scribbles on paper and the redoing of the same logo fifteen different times on your computer’s much slower, less-updated version of Photoshop. The application crashes on three different occasions, causing you to nearly slam it into the wall, but you just try to look on the bright side. Find the silver lining. Of which there are none. 

Seokjin doesn’t seem to be faring any better than you are. You’ve never seen the man under such pressure before, not in the office and certainly not while you’re out of the office. He’s tugged on a crewneck sweater over his dress shirt and paces around his apartment in bright pink slippers, brainstorming aloud as you bounce ideas off of each other in a panic. 

“What if we rebranded them?” Seokjin suggests wildly. When you turn to look at the digital clock underneath his television, it says 11:17PM. You’re surprised he hasn’t collapsed underneath the pile of work he’s got on his plate. 

“What do you mean? Do we even have the authorization to rebrand them?” You ask, pulling up a new tab on magazine marketing techniques. 

“The project description says requests for anything that will keep them afloat,” Seokjin says. He immediately opens an old photobook, buried underneath your laptops, sketches, and papers, flipping through before he sits down right next to you on his slouchy leather couch. “What if we gave them more of a minimalist kind of style? They’re trying to jump off of this super quirky, very basic Urban Outfitters kind of aesthetic, but I think it makes the magazine too young, you know?” Seokjin suggests. “We could do something more grown-up, attract their market audience.”

“Are we allowed to do that?” You ask, thoroughly interested. Maybe Seokjin’s onto something. 

“Who says we can’t?” Seokjin responds, and it’s good enough for you to hop on board. 

Sitting in his apartment like this, brainstorming different ideas and collaborating on logo designs, magazine layout, and website design together, you are more productive than you’ve been in a very, very long time. Even as the night stretches on into the early hours of the morning, as you watch the clock turn from 1:00AM to 2:00AM to 3:00AM, the two of you are wide awake, the only things illuminating his apartment being a floor lamp by his television and the blue light of your laptop screens. 

“It’s…” Seokjin yawns when it’s nearly four in the morning, pen slipping from his fingers, “so late.”

“I know,” you say back, feeling your eyelids beginning to sink. “I’m surprised we’ve even stayed up this long.”

“Haven’t been up this late since college,” Seokjin says, smiling hazily at past memories. “Always had code to finish for my class the next morning.”

“At least we get to sleep in now,” you joke. Even if you still have to finish putting together a brand new image for this magazine that’s about to go under, tomorrow is still a Saturday. 

“Thank God,” Seokjin says, resting his head on the back of the couch cushion, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I feel like we did a lot tonight.”

“We were very productive,” you agree.

He yawns. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

“Hmm?” You ask, leaning over to move your computer from your lap to the coffee table, exchanging it for a sketchpad to keep brainstorming. 

“I think,” Seokjin begins, and it must be just the sleepy haze his brain has entered rather than anything else that could spur him to express this, that makes him say, “that you and I make a perfect pair.”

You sit up straight at this, looking over at Seokjin as the pencil in between your fingers falls onto the sketchpad before rolling onto the floor. It looks like he’s fallen asleep, exhaustion finally overcoming him as all of the work he’s done catches up to him. In the dead of night, the only sound in the room is his soft breathing, chest rising and falling slowly as his mind begins to wander. You watch him, eyelids heavy, and think that he couldn’t have possibly thought that. No way would he say such a thing to you if he was perfectly cognizant, wide awake. After all, you’re the one with a crush on him, not the other way around. 

You lean back, pondering why a man like Seokjin would ever invite you into his home, offer you soup, and shower you with subtle compliments that couldn’t just be friends being friends, and before you know it, your eyes fall shut. 

It is nearly one in the afternoon by the time you wake up, the sunlight streaming in from the side of his apartment. It forces you to finally open your eyes, groaning as your blurry vision begins to clear. 

That is when you register these four things in this order:

This is Seokjin’s apartment.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, in which you worked on a project with him last night.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, and you fell asleep on his couch. 

This is Seokjin’s apartment, and he thinks that you’d make the perfect pair. 

You hear a clink from across the room, and turn to find Seokjin, still wearing the same thing he was wearing last night, standing in his kitchen, pouring two glasses of orange juice. 

“Morning,” Seokjin says. He pauses, then corrects himself. “Afternoon, actually.” He walks over to you, handing you a glass of orange juice as you rub your eyes, waking yourself up.

“How long have you been up?” You ask him, too tired to thank him out loud for the glass of orange juice. 

“About an hour,” he says, checking the time. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful.”

“I feel awful, I didn’t mean to intrude on your apartment for, like, an entire night,” you say, rubbing your forehead as you try to smooth out your hair, make yourself look less like you fell asleep at four in the morning in your gorgeous crush’s apartment. 

“No, it’s alright, really,” Seokjin insists. “It was nice having company, for once. And I think we got a lot done.”

“I still feel bad, I didn’t mean to stay so long,” you say, looking around for your belongings as you try to gather your bearings. 

“It’s fine,” Seokjin reassures you, sitting down on the couch next to you as he begins to clean up the absolute mess of the coffee table. “But your phone has been ringing nonstop, so someone must have missed you.”

You fumble around for your phone before finding it having slid in between the couch cushions, pulling it up to see three missed calls from Taehyung and two missed calls from Jungkook, as well as a slew of texts from the both of them. 

“Oh, it’s just Taehyung and Jungkook,” you say with a shrug, deciding that now is not the time to bring them into the conversation. A quick scan of the texts gives you a rough summary of what you would have heard if you had answered their calls instead. 

Taehyung (9:35AM): Y/N Taehyung (9:35AM): HELLO Taehyung (9:35AM): ARE YOU ALIVE??? Taehyung (9:36AM): YOU NEVER SLEEP THIS LATE ARE YOU OKAY??? Taehyung (10:03AM): I WENT BY YOUR APARTMENT AND YOU DIDN’T ANSWER IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT Taehyung (10:04AM): TEXT ME 1 IF EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND 2 IF EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY Taehyung (10:05AM): LAST TIME I SAW YOU YOU WERE GOING HOME WITH SEOKJIN DID HE MURDER YOU??????? Taehyung (10:18AM): oh Taehyung (10:18AM): oh wait Taehyung (10:19AM): OHHHHHHHHH Taehyung (10:20AM): ;)

Jungkook (12:18PM): Kingdom just started a new event! Get online with me and let’s crush this thing pleaseeeee

“Just want me to play Kingdom with them,” you say, ignoring Taehyung’s text messages and pretending like they don’t exist.

“You really like that game, don’t you?” Seokjin asks. 

“Oh, they like it more than I do, really, I just try and keep the obsession to a minimum,” you say casually. 

“But they always talk about how good you are,” Seokjin adds. “You’re ranked second, aren’t you? That’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that exciting. I mean, it’s just a game,” you shrug it off. 

“But you like it, which means that’s important,” Seokjin says. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of the things you like. They matter to you.”

“You think so?” You ask, smiling at him. 

“I know so. Tell me about Kingdom,” he urges, nudging your side. “Please? I’d love to know.”

And for once, you don’t just shrug it off and brand it as a game you play occasionally. You let yourself love that game, for all it’s done for you and your friends (even if you aren’t the best anymore) and your happiness, and you tell Seokjin about it. About how you started playing it when you were bored one day during work and saw a forum on it. How you got the rest of the office hooked on it as well, even if they were much more obnoxious about it than you are. How you go home after a long day of work and log on, letting yourself relax as you weave your way through the rankings and quests, finding solace in the familiarity of it all. You tell him why you love it, and why you probably won’t stop playing it for a long time, no matter what becomes of your ranking. 

“It was nice being ranked first, but I actually don’t mind whoever it is that’s taken over,” you tell Seokjin honestly. “Jungkook wants to hunt them down, but I think that, whoever they are, they deserve that spot. You know, I used to hate them because the top-ranked player gets all of the best rewards, but our characters have recently started to spend so much time together that I feel like they’d probably have fallen in love by now.” You chuckle to yourself. If life were a movie, everything would always work out perfectly.

“You do?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, of course,” you say. “They spend so much time together. Who wouldn’t, right?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Seokjin says, smiling. “I also have something to tell you.”

You shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with anime, please. That is where I draw the line.”

“Don’t shame us,” Seokjin says, a hand on his heart like he’s been personally offended. Your eyes widen. “I’m kidding,” he says, laughing as you exhale, relieved. “I actually play Kingdom, too. I just wanted to ask you about it.”

“Seriously? All this time and you just pretended like you had no idea what it was?” you say in disbelief. He’s been hiding this from you for how long? God, the rest of your office is going to have a field day with this information. 

“I just wanted you to tell me about it,” Seokjin admits sheepishly. 

You shake your head. “You could have talked to me about other stuff, you know.”

“I know, but you never talked about Kingdom and I could always see how much you loved it. It was nice, listening to you tell me about it,” he says. 

“I’ve been betrayed,” you say dramatically, opening up your laptop to pull up the game. “What’s your ID? We can add each other.”

This is where Seokjin goes silent. “Actually, I think you might already know who I am. I’m above you in the rankings.”

Your mouth drops open. 

“You’re JK0901? Are you kidding me?” You ask, absolutely floored. All this time and you had no idea that Kim Seokjin was a Kingdom expert. “What does JK stand for? I was convinced it was Jungkook and he was just lying to my face, but in reality, it was you who was lying to me!”

Seokjin lets out a chuckle. “Jin Kim. I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out earlier.”

“I can’t believe this,” you say, practically speechless. “How long have you been playing?” 

“Not that long,” Seokjin shrugs. “I picked it up because I wanted to impress a girl I liked.”

“Really? All this effort for a girl you like?” You ask, still in disbelief. You suck up the way your heart is sinking at the thought of him liking another person, but then you remember that it wasn’t like you had ever made a move on him anyway. Smiling, you ask, “Will you at least humor me and tell me who it is?”

Then, Seokjin looks you dead in the eye, and says, “You.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he wraps a hand around your torso and pulls you into him, pressing his lips firmly on yours as you gasp into his mouth, body tensing up before you melt into his touch. 

It’s a quick kiss, nothing too crazy, but it overwhelms you nonetheless, leaves you gasping for air like you’ve been underwater this whole time and have finally surfaced. When you part, you look up into his eyes only to find that they’ve turned into crescents. He’s grinning down at you like he’s finally gotten it right. 

“You did all of that for me?” You ask. “How did you even know?”

Seokjin looks particularly guilty. “You’re not necessarily… that discreet, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, the heat already flaring in your cheeks. “Oh God, you knew?”

“It was fairly easy to figure out,” Seokjin admits. “But the good news is: I felt the same way. So, no harm done.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you say, curling into his chest so you don’t have to look him in the eye. 

“You’re incredible, Y/N, you know that?” He asks, pulling you away from him just so he can get a better look at you. He’s standing in front of you, looking at you like this is what he’s been waiting for. Like all this time, he’s been waiting for you. “I’d do it all over again if it meant I could end up with you.”

“You would?” You ask, pulling him in for another kiss. There’s plenty more where those came from, but you’re already feeling greedy. Why wouldn’t you? If life was a movie, then wouldn’t this be the happy ending? 

“In a heartbeat.”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

#seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #bts fluff #bts angst #seokjin scenario #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin fic #bts fic #bts au #seokjin imagine #jin imagine #bts imagine #bts enemies to lovers #bts friends to lovers #w: for you anything

[writerman]

I adore your writing!! I was wondering may I send in a prompt? A modern au where Bard is a barista and Thranduil goes to get coffee but Bard keeps mispelling Thranduil's name on purpose until Legolas has to tell his dad that "Hey, dad the barista is flirting with you nbd" and he and Bard's kids end up making bets on which of their dad's will cave and ask first over coffee and homework (Legolas has college papers and he helps Bard's kids who are in elementary, middle and high school respectively)

Hey, thank you so much! I am very sorry this has taken so long to respond to. Life and all that jaaazz. I really hope you enjoy this.

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“Soy latte extra hot for… Tendril?!”

TENDRIL?

What on EARTH?!

He could keep it together, he would absolutely not make a scene in the cafe. But really, this was the fourth time Thranduil had gone in to grab a coffee before work and had his name butchered by the barista.

Today had to be the worst, it wasn’t even a name! 

What was more annoying than the name is that the barista was just smiling at him as though he knew exactly what he had done. Instead of addressing it Thranduil merely paid and stalked out each time always noting that he didn’t have to use that particular place. 

It was just that… as much as it annoyed him to no end seeing his name misspelt every time, he really enjoyed the coffee, it was close to work and, as infuriating as the barista was, he was also extremely good looking. 

Was that enough though? 

Apparently, yes. 

The whole name thing had been forgotten by the afternoon, and so when Legolas invited him out for lunch at the same place Thranduil accepted without a second thought. 

It was not until he entered the cafe that he remembered his visit earlier that day. 

Archer Coffee was a nice place, decorated to look more like an old tavern but with a modern twist with free WiFi and USB charging built into the tables. A family run business Thranduil had heard but it wasn’t something he was interested in looking into. 

All in all his experience there had not been awful, even the name thing he could overlook most days just that morning had pushed him over the edge for a split second. When he told Legolas the teenager gave his father a blank stare before bursting into peals of laughter.

“What exactly is so funny about someone being incompetent in their job?” Thranduil groused, his eyes were on his son but he was not given an answer and so moved his gaze to the menu. 

After what seemed like far too long, Legolas finally found his composure and clasped his hands together on the tabletop like a kindly old man might when about to reveal a pearl of wisdom to a youngling. 

“Dad, please tell me you’re joking and you know full well why he spells your name wrong?” There was a hint of pleading and amusement in his son’s voice when he spoke and Thranduil got the feeling he had completely missed something in his interactions with the man who made his coffee. 

He had, hadn’t he? 

Oh no. 

To save his pride, if that was even possible at this point, Thranduil drew himself up, his back ramrod straight. “It is obvious that the man does not like me. Though, I’ve not quite worked out why perhaps it is because I do not tip?” The response from his son was not comforting especially when he saw Legolas blanch thankfully recovering quickly but he did glance over to the serving counter before he spoke. 

He was definitely searching out the tips jar. 

“Uh… you should definitely tip. Why haven’t you been doing that and also the reason he is-” Whatever Legolas was going to reveal was cut off as a small girl barrelled into his side and hugged him all the while repeating his name over and over. 

Two other children appeared, one of them peeled the young girl from Legolas’ side and the other greeted him more appropriately. But it didn’t seem to bother Legolas at all and he got to his feet almost immediately after the girl was removed. 

“Sorry dad, my tutoring group is here. I forgot- ah, let me make it up to you later!” He grabbed his bag from down by his seat and waved off his dad before moving off to another table. 

Thranduil had no time to question his son but he had to admit he was equal parts frustrated and proud. The young man had a good head on his shoulders, while he would like to think it was mostly his influence, Thranduil could not help but think the boy was more like his mother. 

A pang of grief grabbed his heart for a moment but it was gone as soon as it had arrived. They had been without her for so long and yet it would oftentimes hurt more in sudden moments like this one. 

His phone buzzed on the table and proved to be a decent distraction from his spiralling thoughts. 

The barista obviously has a crush on you. 

The message was short and very to the point but Thranduil could only stare at it in confusion because is that how people flirted these days? They purposely angered the one they like? 

But of course, it was! 

Oh, how had he been so blind, hadn’t Legolas’ mother wound him up to within an inch of his life? Hadn’t they spent most of their time throwing jibes at one another until their friends had practically forced them to ask one another out? 

“One soy latte extra hot.” The cheerful voice had Thranduil jump and he scrambled to shove his phone into his pocket. “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” A chuckle followed and Thranduil’s coffee order was placed in front of him. 

“Is that your son?” The one-sided conversation continued and when Thranduil looked up to the one that had spoken they were now looking over at Legolas sat with two other younger teenagers and a small girl. 

“Ah, yes. It is.” It was all he could manage because this man stood beside him, this man that smelled like coffee and something fresh along with cloves was divine and maddeningly distracting. “I did not know he was tutoring on the side,” He offered more hoping he sounded cool and collected because his heart was beating so fast he was sure it might actually burst. 

“He comes in a lot. My kids love the way he teaches, as you can see they are his biggest fans.” Thranduil, in his state of shock, turned almost mechanically to look at his son and the barista was right, the children did seem rapt as Legolas spoke quietly to them. 

The younger child, she was interested but as she likely could not understand what Legolas was talking about spent more time colouring in her book than joining in on the conversation. 

“They are your children?” Really he already knew they were given that the man had already insinuated as such but Thranduil was having a hard time working out how to make conversation now. One handsome face and his confidence was obliterated because his heart wanted to do all the talking but couldn’t quite connect with his mouth and brain to do so. 

It was an overly romantic thought and Thranduil didn’t think he still had that kind of thing in him but apparently, it was just waiting for the right person and the right moment. Although, how could he be sure Legolas was correct and that the barista did actually like him? 

“Yep, all three terrors belong to me. I’m Bard by the way.” An introduction finally and it was casual enough that Thranduil could offer a smile and say nothing more but instead his mouth threw that idea out of the window. 

“Are you the owner?” 

Bard beamed upon hearing the question and gives an enthusiastic nod.

“Sure am! This place belonged to my parents who bought it in the 70s, when I got my grubby mitts on it I gutted the place and gave it a more modern look. Best thing I ever did was take this place on.” No more was said and Thranduil could not continue the conversation as Bard was called away. Thranduil had to try very hard not to be disappointed and busied himself with drinking his coffee, he didn’t have much time left before he had to get back to work so the peace was quite nice. 

Meanwhile, on the table containing the kids, Legolas watched the interaction closely and when Bard walked away he leaned back in his seat and smiled. 

“So, how much do you wanna bet it takes both of them at least two weeks to ask each other out on a date?” Both Bain and Sigrid scoff at this and set their pens down. There was no way they were going to be able to study now. 

‘With the time it took for your dad to work out he was being flirted with two weeks is too short a time frame.” Sigrid mocked and her brother nodded in agreement from beside her. “And he didn’t even work it out himself, you had to tell him!” 

That was fair enough. 

“Alright, so if they don’t ask each other out we have to do it for them?” Bain suggests and to that Sigrid and Legolas agreed. 

Eventually, Tilda piped up. 

“Will daddy marry your daddy?” 

The three older kids exchange a look before they shrug at the little girl.

“I think they will.” 

Legolas mentioned that they would just have to wait and see but secretly he had quite high hopes for the both of them. Even if they had needed help with being nudged in the right direction. 

#Barduil #Coffee shop Au #Bard #Thranduil #The Hobbit #Writing prompts #strippergeneralgrievous

[nazariolahela]

Best Beloved: Chapter 1

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a PM AU I’ve been working on. It’s a bit different than my previous fic series and I’m really excited to try something new. I hope y’all enjoy it. This story is told in dual first-person narrative, from Kaia (F!MC) and Damien’s POV. The first half of this story takes place during Kaia’s freshman year and Damien’s senior year of college. The second half is two years after Kaia graduates. There will be sprinklings of canon in this fic, but we’ll try to step out of the box for the most part. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: It’s the first day of classes at Hartfeld University and that means meeting new faces.

Kaia 

Six Years Ago

I raced across the courtyard of Hartfeld University, tugging my backpack higher on my shoulder. It was the first day of the new school year and class started in less than five minutes. Except I was all the way on the other end of campus. Whose bright idea was it to hold college classes at 8 a.m.? Way to make a good impression on the first day, Kaia.

That’s what I got for staying up until 2 a.m. the night before binge-watching episodes of America’s Most Eligible. In my defense, my roommate Victoria and I spent most of the evening getting to know each other. We discovered that we both love the show and are huge fans of Jakenzie. (That’s Jamie x Mackenzie for all you old folks out there.)

We also learned that we were both valedictorians of our respective high schools. So we spent most of the evening sharing stories of our childhood and teen years. We might have also played a few rounds of Truth or Drink. Hence why I was running late that morning. I didn’t even have time to stop at the campus coffee shop for caffeine and eye candy. What? The barista was a total babe.  

I eyed the big clocktower near the library and saw that I only had two minutes left. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it. I still had to make it to Clark Hall and climb the ninety-million stairs to the third floor.

After finally arriving at Clark and climbing the Mount Everest of staircases, I sucked in several deep breaths and burst through the doors of Professor O'Keeffe’s Composition 101 classroom at 8:03 a.m. The whole class turned and the professor eyed me exasperatedly as I slinked to the back of the room, waving a silent apology as I took a seat. She shook her head and continued going over the syllabus. I pulled my MacBook from my backpack and started taking notes, stopping occasionally to scan the room for signs of anyone I might have met at freshman orientation.

I spotted a girl who sat next to me. I think her name was Sloane. Looking like she just stepped off-campus at a prestigious prep school, she wore a blue long-sleeved turtleneck sweater with a plaid skirt and a gold necklace. I focused my attention between her and the professor, watching curiously as she dug around frantically in her laptop bag, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose every time they slipped down. I spotted an empty seat next to her, so when the professor had her back turned, I gathered up my things, rose from my seat and moved over to the other side of the classroom.

“Hey!” I whispered as I took the seat next to her. She looked up from her bag and grinned when she noticed me.

“Hi, there! Kaia, right?” she asked, extending her hand. I nodded and shook it. “I’m Sloane. How’s your first day going?”

“Well, I was late for my first class and I haven’t had coffee. How’s yours?”

“I can’t find my phone charger. I know I packed an extra one, but it seems to have grown legs and walked off.” She continued shuffling through her backpack, her brows pinched in a V. Her unruly curls fell in her face and she brushed them away frustrated.

I dug through my bag, pulling two different phone charges from the side pocket. I held both of them up to her. “Which one do you need?”

Her eyes widened as she examined both chargers in my hand. Reaching for the Samsung charger, she mouthed a thank you and plugged the USB end into her laptop before plugging the other end into her phone. She glanced at my iPhone sitting face-down on my desk, then turned to me. “I gotta ask. Why do you have two different chargers?”

“My cousin Nadia is always losing hers, so I keep a spare on me just in case.”

She nodded and turned back to the front of the classroom, focusing on the professor. The rest of the class passed by uneventfully. When Professor O’Keeffe dismissed us at 8:50 a.m., Sloane and I gathered our things and walked out of the classroom together.

”Where are you off to next?” she asked, adjusting the strap on her bag.

“Intro to Sociology. You?”

”American Government. Gotta love those Gen Ed courses, ” she said with a laugh. “Wanna get lunch later? I have a free period after 11 a.m.”

“Sure. I’ll text my cousin and see if she wants to join us,” I said, pulling out my phone and shooting Nadia a text.

My cousin Nadia is quite the character. Our dads are brothers, but she and I are so close, people often asked if we were sisters. We grew up together, living three houses down from one another. Since we’re only six months apart, we were lucky enough to be in the same grade from kindergarten all the way through high school. Now, we’re privileged enough to attend the same college. I glanced at her text and shook my head.

Sloane and I exchanged phone numbers and I waved goodbye as we took off in opposite directions. I pulled out my campus map, trying to find Alexander Hall as I made my way across the courtyard to my next class. I wasn't looking where I was going when I accidentally slammed into a brick wall. Except it wasn't a brick wall.

“Whoa! Watch where you’re going!” a deep voice shouted as I immediately went flying backward onto the pavement, my phone and backpack crashing to the ground with me. The sound of breaking glass made me cringe. Well, shit. That’s going to be expensive.

“Are you okay?” his velvety voice probed. “You fell pretty hard.” He hooked his arms under mine and helped me to my feet, checking me for injuries. I released myself from his grip and bent over to pick up the rest of my belongings. I nodded a thank you and dusted off my black skirt, frowning when I saw the run in my pantyhose. I huffed as I picked up my phone and examined the shattered screen. I just got this damn thing in May. It was my present to myself for graduating from high school. Now, I have to pay to have it fixed. 

I shoved it into my backpack and took a moment to study him. It only took a few seconds, but I immediately recognized him as my old friend Damien. My eyes widened as I realized who I had just crashed into. “Oh. My. Gods! It’s really you!” I said as I flung myself into his arms.

“You always were clumsy,” he laughed and squeezed his toned body against mine.

It had been four years since I saw him last. Damien and I were next-door neighbors and although he was four years older than me, we spent nearly every day hanging out. I had the hugest crush on him, even though he only saw me as a sister. After years of pining for him, I decided I was no longer going to hide how I felt. I stole two of his dad’s beers, chugged them in rapid succession, and went in search of the boy I’d loved since 7th grade.

We snuck away from his party and hid out at the playground down the street from our houses and about how much we would miss each other after he went away to college. There, under the jungle gym, I drunkenly confessed my feelings for him. That was also the first time I kissed him. After he gently pushed me off of him, he told me that he cared about me, but that I was only 15 and it was inappropriate for a guy his age to pursue me. I was so embarrassed, I ran away from him and hid out at my house for the rest of the night.

He came home for Christmas that winter but we didn’t get to see much of each other. Now that he was here in front of me after all this time, I realized how much he had changed since then. My eyes traveled the length of his denim-clad legs, past the black t-shirt stretching across the muscles of his broad chest, up to his face. He had the softest chocolate brown eyes, wavy brown hair, and warm tan skin. Just a hint of stubble peppered his chin and his defined jaw tensed as he watched me. His intense gaze made my cheeks tint pink.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Are you okay?” I replied. Of course, he was. He barely flinched when I all but plowed into him.

“I’m more worried about you. I’ve never given someone a concussion on the first day of classes before and I’m not looking to start.”

I rapped my knuckles against my temple. “You know me. I’ve got a thick skull. My phone on the other hand, well R.I.P.,” I said, miming pouring out a 40-oz for my now-broken handheld device. He chuckled and his brown eyes bored into mine, making me feel suddenly self-conscious.

“How have you been? How’s your first day going so far?”

“Well, I overslept and was late for my first class, I still haven’t had caffeine, and I bulldozed into a random guy with reckless abandon. So, I’d say it’s going well.”

He laughed again, the sound warming my insides. My eyes scanned his face, taking in his strong features. He was so pretty, I could cry. “So, where are you off to in such a hurry that you’re Miley Cyrusing people?”

“Oh, I’m trying to get to Alexander Hall. I missed out on the campus tour during freshman orientation, so I’m trying to find my way around.”

He took my map from my hand, his fingers brushing mine in the process. The sensation of his touch coursed through my entire body and I had to remind myself to breathe. He retrieved a pen from his backpack, pulling the cap off with his teeth. I’ve never wanted to be a pen cap so bad in my life.

“So, you are here,” he said, marking an “X” where we currently stood in front of Clark. “You’re going to want to keep on this path and head past the library, then take a left at the fork,” My eyes followed the line he drew along the paper. “And then you’ve reached your destination.” He circled the building in question and handed the map back to me, before capping his pen and slipping it back in his backpack.

I opened my mouth to ask him if he wanted to hang out later when a female voice pierced the air, interrupting us. “Babe, hurry up. We’re going to be late for Social Psych.”

Babe? I looked over his shoulder to see a woman with dark brown hair, full lips, and piercing brown eyes making our way toward us. She narrowed her eyes at me, then turned back to Damien, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow and pressed a kiss to his jaw. He glanced at me apologetically as she pulled him toward Waterfield Hall.

“Be careful out there. And have fun this year. We'll get together soon,” he winked and gave me a wave as the two of them walked away toward their next class.

“Who was that?” I heard her ask, their voices fading with every step.

“Just an old friend,” he replied. My stomach sank. No matter how much I wanted us to be more, we never would be. I glanced at the courtyard and noticed the crowd thinning out, meaning the next block of classes would be starting shortly. I hitched my backpack on my shoulders and sighed deeply as I made my way to Alexander.

***

Damien

Alana’s nails gently scraped up and down my bicep as we sat in the lecture hall, listening to Professor Henderson drone on over the syllabus for this semester. Just two more to go and I’d be done with this place. Don’t get me wrong, I’d enjoyed my four years at Hartfeld, but I was ready to graduate and GTFO already.

Sophomore year was particularly hard. I almost dropped out halfway through fall semester after Dad passed away. Except Mom wouldn’t let me. She begged me to stick it out and made me promise to graduate. I couldn’t say no to her. Call me a mama’s boy if you must, but she’s the most important woman in my life and I couldn't bring myself to let her down. If we’re being honest here, I was doing it for me too. To be the first person in my family to graduate from college was a pretty big achievement. 

I struggled to listen to the professor’s lecture, jotting down notes in my notebook. I should have been paying attention, but I had too much shit on my mind. Mainly my schedule for this semester. I needed to meet with my advisor after class and get my internship shit lined up. That’s what you get for waiting until the last minute, Dames. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to my advisor, asking if she had a free period this afternoon to get my paperwork filled out.

I looked to my right and saw Alana jotting notes in her notebook as her left hand still stroked my arm. I watched her for a few moments, taking her in. Alana and I met spring semester during our freshman year. We sat next to each other in Western Civ and our class discussion on long-standing issues in Western history turned into a full-blown shouting match. The professor pulled both of us out into the hallway and calmly explained to us that she would not allow that kind of behavior in her class. She then decided the best form of torture was to pair us up for the semester research project. 

The first few weeks were hell. Alana and I disagreed on everything. Including the topic for our project. About halfway into the semester, she and I were studying in the library, when she asked me why I was — and I quote — “such a moody little bitch.” I told her she would be too if she had a pain in the ass like her for a partner. She laughed and told me how lucky I was to even be in the same vicinity as her. We exchanged jabs for a good ten minutes before she leaned over and kissed me. When I asked her what that was for, she replied that it was to shut me up.

Not going to lie, I was intrigued. She had a level of snark I had only seen from the women in my family. I knew I was in trouble, but there was just something about her that drew me to her. We began dating a week later and have been nearly inseparable ever since. Being that this was our senior year, I found myself wondering what would happen to us after graduation. I raised the topic of marriage once or twice over the last year, but she was always quick to shut me down. She insisted that she loved me, but didn’t think marriage was “for us.” I shook the thoughts from my mind and peeked at Alana from the corner of my eye. She was still focused on the professor. Good thing she couldn't read my mind.

My thoughts wandered to Kaia. It felt like a lifetime since we saw each other. She had grown up since then. I remembered the last things we said to each other before we parted the night of my grad party. She got drunk and told me she was in love with me. As much as I wanted to return her feelings, she and her cousin Nadia were like little sisters to me, which made the whole situation weird. Plus the whole age thing. I sighed and dragged my hand across my face, trying to clear my head. Before long, the hour was up and our professor released us. Alana and I gathered our things and linked hands as we made our way out of the lecture hall.

“I’ve got some free time before my noon class, so I'm going to head back to the dorms. You wanna come with me?” she said, batting those long lashes my way. My dick screamed yes, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the spot behind her ear as we walked.  

“As long as we’re back in time for my Interpersonal Comm class.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can't believe you, a senior, are taking a 200 level course. Why didn’t you take that class sophomore year?”

I shot her a look. She knew why. She was the one who stood by me during Dad’s illness. I was lucky I was able to finish most of my classes that semester. Interpersonal Communication is the only one I had to drop. So, here I was retaking the course so I could graduate with my full 120 credits.

“It is what it is,” I said as we walked back to the dorms. A few minutes later, we arrived at Richmond Hall where Alana lived. I waved to some guys I recognized from one of my classes last year and followed her inside, checking out her ass the entire time.

When we arrived at her room, she dropped her bag off at her desk and disappeared into the bathroom. I moved around her dorm, looking at the pictures of us on the wall. All the memories we shared in the last four years. The Winter Formal sophomore year. The summer before senior year at the Cape. Our trip to San Francisco junior year over Spring Break.

I rubbed the aching spot in my chest, remembering proposing to her on that trip. She looked like she wanted to throw up when I dropped to one knee in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. She covered her face in embarrassment and begged me to stand up. Confused, I asked her what she meant. She pulled me away from the gawking tourists shooting me sympathetic looks and explained that while she loved me, she wasn’t ready for marriage. I felt like the biggest idiot.

I was still looking at the photos when the bathroom door swung open and Alana strutted out, wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe. Ho-lee-shit. Pretty sure I died and went to heaven. She sauntered up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, peppering my jawline with kisses. “Is this what you brought me to your dorm for?” I whispered in her ear, taking her lobe between my teeth.

“Mmm...This one is my favorite. Look how hot you are in your board shorts,” she said pointing to the photo of us at Cape Cod. She examined the photo wall while she casually slipped her hand down my pants. I snaked my arm around her waist and slid it down to her ass, which the robe barely covered. My eyes widened when I noticed she wasn’t wearing panties. I turned her around to face me, then grabbed her by the waist and tossed her on the bed. She squealed and reached up to grab my t-shirt, pulling it over my head. I dipped in and began to kiss her neck when my phone went off.

“Ignore it,” she panted, raking her fingernails up and down my back. I licked a trail from her earlobe down to her collarbone, peeling the robe open to expose her breasts. I kissed my way down the swell of her left breast when my phone went off again. I groaned and rolled off her, grabbing my phone from my back pocket, and saw two missed calls from my advisor.

“Shit. I gotta take this babe. Gimme a sec.”

“Are you fucking serious?” she huffed and pulled the robe closed. I grabbed my t-shirt off the floor and slipped it on before stepping out of her room into the hallway. I pulled up my missed calls and hit the redial button. Dr. Griffin picked up on the first ring.

“Mr. Nazario. I’m glad you called back. I have a free period now if you’re available to go over your internship paperwork.”

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. I really needed to get my internship taken care of so I could get credit for my work, but my girl was on the other side of the door, half-naked and waiting for me. Waging a war with my thoughts, I decided that I’d have to make it up to Alana tonight.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I told her, then hung up the phone. I steeled myself for the difficult conversation I was about to have with Alana and made my way back into the dorm room. She sat on the bed, a scowl on her face as she looked at her phone.

“Hey, babe. That was Dr. Griffin. I need to go get my internship paperwork taken care of.” Alana rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. I moved in front of her and leaned over until we were at eye level. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight. Okay?”

She glared at me, not saying anything. I gripped her chin between my thumb and forefinger and pressed a kiss to her lips. She didn’t pull away, so I knew she wasn’t that mad. I kissed her once more before I turned and headed out of her room.

I made my way out of the dorm and shot her an apology text as I headed across campus to Dr. Griffin’s office. The grey text bubbles popped up, then disappeared a few times, before she replied, “K.” I sighed and slipped my phone in my jeans pocket. I couldn’t blame her though She was mad because she felt I hadn't been the most reliable boyfriend, but if I knew her like I thought I did, she’d get over it. Either that or I’d have blue balls for the next week.

#best beloved #pm au #college au #friends to lovers #perfect match #choices fanfic #damien nazario #kaia park #damien x mc #nazariolahela fanfic

[charmingcentry]

Bechloe = high school AU. Love popular Beca/nerd chloe

thanks for the suggestion anon! hope you enjoy :D

-

“Hey, you’re drooling again.”

Chloe fixates her attention back towards her best friend Aubrey, immediately clearing her throat nervously. It’s lunch period and presented before Chloe is an untouched, unwrapped, peanut butter and jelly sandwich; she didn’t enjoy how peanut butter stuck on the roof of her mouth anyway. The redhead would have been consuming the poorly-made cafeteria food yet she finds a petite brunette more appealing than satisfying her hunger. 

The brunette chuckles loud enough for Chloe’s table to hear; the redhead couldn’t help but smile. The redhead continues staring and notices Beca’s head drift towards Chloe’s table and she shoots a small smile at Chloe when the two make eye contact. Oh, how the redhead’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She notices one of the guy friends rest his arm against Beca’s shoulder as the brunette snatches a sandwich from another person.

“Chloe, seriously, I think your glasses were fogging up too at this rate…” Chloe blushes and removes her oval eyeglasses, cleaning the lenses with the microfiber cloth. 

“She’s really pretty Bree. I mean, just look at her!” 

Her best friend doesn’t miss a beat with her response. “Yes because the dozens of ear piercings are totally attractive.” Aubrey notices Beca’s gaze return onto her best friend as Chloe rolls her eyes and lightly smacks Aubrey on the shoulder. “I’m joking… kind of. I mean, whatever works for you.”

Another female slipped into the rectangular lunch table - Stacie Conrad. “We talking about Beca again? I saw Chloe blushing like miles away.”

The redhead groans and buries her face into her sweater sleeves, ignoring the slight push against her face from her glasses.

Beca, a name that swiftly induces a noticeable blush across Chloe’s face with no hesitation. Starting from Day 1 of freshman year where the redhead’s seat was directly behind Beca’s, she couldn’t help but notice the immediate butterflies fluttering in her stomach or an immediate stutter when Beca would ask her something; Chloe felt enamored by her presence.

Perhaps Chloe loves how blunt Beca is or the amount of confidence the brunette exerts around her huge group of friends; nevertheless, Chloe definitely feels something for Beca and could possibly rant how amazing she is.

One problem.

The popularity circulating around the brunette would raise attention to Chloe if she ever communicated with Beca and its definite rumors would be spread. And, she’s definitely dating that Jesse Swanson guy. So, the redhead prefers to admire from afar, even if it may hurt. 

She slowly raises her head and is met with bright light along with the bell that echoes throughout the school, signaling that it is time for 6th period. Chloe sighs as she slings her baby pink backpack over her shoulders as she waves goodbye to Aubrey and Stacie. She adjusts with the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she walks towards her AP Calculus classroom. Heading up the staircase, she feels a slight tap on her shoulder. 

Tap-tap, tap-tap

It’s almost too rhythmic for a simple shoulder tap... Chloe glances over her shoulder and finds navy blue eyes looking directly at her. The redhead trips on the final step of the stairwell, her heart rate picking up faster. Chloe immediately springs up and repositions herself against the wall, avoiding the swarm of underclassmen and upperclassmen. Again, she finds a short brunette, quirking up an eyebrow.

“You seem clumsy…” Chloe’s mouth goes dry as she attempts to create a response. A taller male wolf-whistle at the two, Beca immediately whipping her head back and glaring at the male. Chloe swears he mouthed “Good luck Beca.”

“I-I, uh, yeah! Heh, sorry about that. Um, d-did you need something or… something.” 

Beca lets out a short amused chuckle. “Actually, I just transferred classes and I know you’re in that class and stuff.” Chloe could feel her knees go weak and her head become light-headed. “Can you like take me there maybe?” 

The redhead nods enthusiastically and immediately wraps her hand around Beca’s wrist, pulling her towards the classroom. To her surprise, the brunette doesn’t pull away. 

Chloe and Beca enter the classroom together, the redhead escorting the brunette towards an empty seat that luckily is next to the redhead. Chloe lets herself relax as the teacher begins class once the tardy bell rings its annoying popping pattern. He claps his hands together and walks to the front.

“Team-up. You will be preparing a project about limits, basically a lesson video. Groups of two, no exceptions since there are now 28 of you.” He makes eye contact towards Beca who surprisingly sinks lower into her seat. “It is due next Friday. You will have today and tomorrow to prepare. I will not accept any late videos. Good luck. The rubric will be distributed at the end of class.” The teacher claps his hands together and the class roams about with the sound of desks and chairs scraping against the tiles echoing throughout the room.

Not having her friends in this period, Chloe immediately turns to Beca, a smile spreading across her face. Yet, someone is asking Beca already.

Damnit.

Before the redhead turns back around, she notices the person walking away sadly and Beca turning towards her; the feeling of light-headedness came back.

“You uh, wanna work on this together?”’

Chloe couldn’t believe it, Beca Mitchell is asking her to be her partner! The redhead clears her throat, biting back a gigantic grin. “Yes, that would be awes.”

Beca slides her desk towards Chloe’s. “Uh yeah… awes.”

“Time’s up.” The class goes silent. “What are you waiting for? Go work on it!”

Chloe notices how Beca tenses up: her jaw is stiffened, her shoulders are raised slightly, and her navy blue eyes are wide open. She clears her throat and turns her body towards Beca, who’s tugging her sweater sleeve frantically. The redhead taps Beca on the shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

The brunette immediately stops tugging her sleeve. “Uh, yeah. Just, kind of nervous I guess? So let’s get started on this fucking project!” Chloe raises an eyebrow at Beca’s hand gestures and emphasis of the cuss word. The brunette immediately shoves her hands into her pockets. “I-I I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

Chloe only smiles at Beca’s nervousness. “You’re fine Becs… let’s get started on the project before Mister yells at us.” The redhead slips out a piece of lined paper as the brunette slips out her phone. 

“You wanna like… exchange numbers or something?” 

Chloe happily complies, taking out her own phone and swapping numbers with her project partner.

She found it amusing that someone who exerts an intense amount of confidence is actually pretty nervous and awkward.

-

Aubrey finds her friends in the library, Stacie beside a seemingly giddy Chloe. The redhead’s face has flushed shade of pink with Stacie trying to capture her attention. Aubrey walks closer to the table and notices the Cheshire Cat-like grin washed over Chloe. She pulls a seat across from the two and sets down her belongings.

“Uh, what’s going on?”

Chloe doesn’t reply but instead lets out a series of giggles. “Beca is coming over to her house tomorrow… found her like this after the bell rang.”

Well, well, well, looks like Chloe is perhaps one-step closer to dating that annoying alt-girl.

-

Chloe is running back and forth throughout her household, arranging her family’s belongings to ensure that her home is tidy and clean. She spent around an hour and a half vacuuming around her place, making sure the floor is free of crumbs. Although Beca wouldn’t care since she generally seems laid-back, Chloe wanted her first impression of the Beale household to be perfect; she even went as far to mow the lawn!

She glances towards the clock, 12:45 P.M, Beca is scheduled to arrive in 15 minutes. The redhead storms up the stairs, dashing swiftly into her room - the untouched place of her household. Chloe quickly gathers the scattered clothes and tosses her laundry in the closet. She arranges the school items on her desk in the corner and quickly makes her bed. The redhead’s adrenaline finally simmers as she takes a step in her doorway, feeling satisfied with the cleanliness of her room. 

Her adrenaline quickly emerges once again when she hears the first note of the doorbell; it has her rushing down the stairs, attempting to not slip and fall. Chloe unlocks the door and takes a deep breath; thank God her family isn’t home.

She swings the door open and finds Beca with her backpack and laptop and Chloe notices how her mouth slightly parts. “Hi Becs! Come in.”

“Oh, uh yeah… where are your uh-” The brunette gestures towards her face

Chloe slightly blushes as she leads the brunette towards her room. “Oh… I wear contacts at home.”

“You should wear those at school y’know… you look really pretty.” The redhead widens her eyes at Beca’s comment, her blush growing frantically. “Not that you’re not pretty without them! Uh, just like, you should wear those more often… I guess.”

“Why thank you! You’re so sweet… uhm, let’s get started on this?”

The brunette takes a seat on Chloe’s freshly-made bed, booting her laptop up. “Yep.”

Once Beca’s laptop starts up, she notices dozens of MP3 files scattered across her home screen, each one labeled as a song. Her background is her gigantic group of friends at what appears to be an amusement park… she sure is well-known. The brunette selects the editing program and retrieves a USB cable from her school bag along with the Calculus textbook.

“How come you just transferred into our class? It’s the third week of school.” 

Beca flips through the book, settling on the page where the Limits lessons and problems are located. “Uh, my math teacher beforehand told me to ask the counselor to see if it was possible… the teacher for AP Calc let me in.”

“How come she wanted you to switch?”

The brunette meets Chloe’s gaze. “Said I’m ‘too smart’ for the regular math class.”

“Is popular Beca Mitchell secretly a math whiz?” 

Beca rolls her eyes, an amused smile spreading across her face. “That’s one way to phrase it… and I’m not really popular dude.”

“Says the one with like what? 3 friend groups? And a boyfriend!”

Chloe notices how quickly Beca’s demeanor changes, her eyebrows raising and her face scrunching up, her smile quickly replaced with a grimace.“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah! That Jesse dude?”

Beca pauses for a bit before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “You think Jesse and I are dating? Dude gross! Not in a million years… he’s like my brother.” The brunette catches her breath after laughing for a bit. “Besides… I uh, play for the other team y’know?”

Chloe attempted to hide her felicity, a smile fighting to be seen. The redhead bit the inside of her cheek and tightened her hands into fists, bundling an area of her bedsheets. The girl she’s been pining on since freshman year is gay! Chloe might have a chance only if Beca feels the same way. “That’s really cool… but you are popular though. You’re always going to those parties right?”

The brunette skims over the textbook, dragging her finger delicately across the thin pages. “Uh yeah. For money.” Beca notices the redhead tilt her head like a confused puppy… cute. “I just play music. A DJ type of gig I guess?” 

“Do you make your own music?” 

Beca exits out of the editing program seeing how their conversation is clearly not math-related. She leaves her home screen visible for Chloe and slides the laptop towards her curious project partner. The redhead drags the cursor over each file, reading the titles of her mashups. Her mouth drops open when she comes upon a certain file.

“Titanium AND Million pieces? Those are my favorite songs!” 

A corner of Beca’s mouth lifts up. “Really? None of my friends have heard of them. You wanna listen to it?” 

Chloe immediately nods her head enthusiastically, double-clicking on the file. The audio player appears on the screen and the redhead’s room fills with the melody of Titanium and the lyrics of Million Pieces. A smile gradually grows on Chloe’s face as Beca appears to be worried, tugging at her bottom lip, looking at the redhead who seems happy with the music.

“This is so good Beca! No wonder you get paid for these types of things…”

The brunette returns a soft small to Chloe, adjusting her position on the bed to face towards Chloe. “I guess… it’s not that much. Maybe like $20 or $30 dollars.”

“An hour?”

“No for the whole night.” Chloe lets out an astonishing gasp

“You need to be paid by the hour! Your an amazing DJ. I’ll talk to those party people if I have to!”

Beca snorts, laughing at Chloe’s exasperation. “What are you, my manager?”

“I could be.”

“Since you seem so good at math and all… I’ll consider it.”

The redhead nudges Beca’s shoulder. “You’re good at math too you nerd.”

“Not as good as you though… you’re like what, the top of the class?” Chloe goes silent as she reopens the editing program, sliding Beca’s textbook between the pair. “Knew it~”

“Oh shut up, let’s just get started on this.”

--

Sprawled out before the pair are stacks of lined papers along with Chloe’s whiteboard that is filled with graphs and mathematical equations. The brunette is arranging the video clips together as Chloe leans in, directing which clip should be placed. The textbook is wide open, a few pencil marks marking the thin laminated pages and the clock reads 6:23 P.M… Beca’s been at Chloe’s house for five hours which the redhead is trying to remain calm about. As the last video file transfers into the editing program, the brunette’s phone vibrates once. Chloe leans away, allowing space for Beca to retrieve her phone from her back pocket. A slight smile is replaced with a frown as the brunette slips her phone away.

“My mom is here, I need to leave.”

Chloe frowns as well, hoping to spend more time with Beca. “Aw… okay. I’ll walk you down.”

The brunette gathers her belongings and gently slips them into her backpack. Beca puts her shoes back on and as the two are about to walk out of Chloe’s bedroom, the brunette springs back around and looks at Chloe.

“You wanna come to a party with me next Saturday?” Before Chloe could answer, Beca interrupts her with one more proposal. “And if you want… we can go out before? Like uh… a date.”

The redhead’s knees go weak as a wide grin appears on her face. “I would love to. Both the date and the party.”

Beca smiles. “Sweet.”

The two walk downstairs, Chloe escorting Beca to her mother’s car. As the two drive away, the redhead whips her phone out and messages the group chat with her two best friends.

GUESS WHO ASKED ME OUT

Stacie immediately replies YES CHLOE!!!!! 

And of course, Aubrey isn’t as enthusiastic oh dear god.

Saturdays are becoming to be Chloe’s favorite day.

#bechloe #bechloe prompt #beca mitchell #chloe beale #enjoy

[yoonjinkooked]

lockdown | (m) - teaser

moodboard by @flajka

pairing; jungkook/female OC genre; college au, strangers to lovers, smut and tiny bit of fluff too, humor ofc rating; explicit words; N/A, for the teaser 918

— synopsis; Eunhee is in trouble and facing a deadline - in comes curly haired jungkook to save her life, make her laugh and maybe, just maybe, fuck her brains out.

warnings: switch heaven y’all. like really, whole lot of switching. unprotected sex, semi-public, grinding, dirty talk, handjob, rough sex, fluffy sex, dom!kook, subby sub!kook, KING OF SWITCHING, creampie, fluff, bit of crack, shy emo loner photographer JK; smart, mouthy, college magazine editor OC, they will switch like crazy, cursing, drinking, lockdown (you’ll see)  A/N: I’ve never written on tumblr before. After moderate success on other platforms, I decided to join the best one. My stories are long - as I’m still writing, I dunno if I will make this one in parts or as one big ass story.  English isn’t my first language but I proofread and I’m an English teacher so we should be good.  Also, please tell me if you’d rather read Y/N instead of a named OC. Thanks! :)

With a coffee in one hand and glasses on my head, I go over last year’s photo folder – that’s a better plan B than some basic stock photos. Some of the photos look like a decent backup – our campus hasn’t changed much over the last couple of months, after all. As long as I avoid last year’s seniors, I might be able to pull off plan B without anyone except a handful of us knowing the truth.

Even the swimming team – they have won gold last year, they have won gold this year too. The members are all the same, no new freshmen, no seniors last year. If my memory serves me well, all of them kept their natural hair colors and I can totally use said photo in this month’s edition. Sure, Jimin and the rest of the team will probably know what’s up but that’s nothing a round of beer can’t fix.

Look at me – such a professional. Bribing my way to get the work done. Yay.

In the midst of scrolling, I pause to glance at the clock – it’s almost ten and still no sign of Taehyung. Stifling down the pending panic, I take a deep breath and decide to play some music, hoping to distract myself more. While 80s rock has its charms, I still fidget as I scroll through folders upon folders, grabbing hold of my favorite koala mug again and downing the rest of the coffee in one go. Needing something to distract me further, I open the top drawer of my desk, grabbing the emergency M&Ms I’ve kept there for a few weeks now, knowing I was bound to pull an all-nighter sooner or later.

Just as I down a handful of candy, someone knocks on the office door and I nearly choke. I cough, make sure a lone M&M is not going to kill me, take a deep breath and shout a ‘come in’.

The little hope I have deflates as I realize it’s not Taehyung, the bastard himself – instead, it’s a guy I know, but not really. Tall, wavy brown hair, wide brown eyes and a slightly dumbfounded look, hidden under the hood of his black sweatshirt as he barely steps inside the office, still with one foot out as if he is ready to run.  

I am positive I know him. I’m sure we have class together, or had the year before. Or perhaps we just have classes in the same building – I know I’ve seen him before, in the background, on the side, but for the life of me, I can’t put a face to the name.

“Can I help you?” I ask, once he doesn’t speak up for a few moments.

“Yeah,” he snaps out of his daze, tilting his head before reaching for his pocket – I keep my eye on his hands, half expecting him to draw a gun and shoot me in place. “Taehyung sent me to give you this,” he says as he pulls out a USB stick out of his pocket.

Finally, I can breathe. Finally, I know I will manage to get this done tonight. “Thank fuck,” I sigh, closing my eyes for a second before opening them up again and realizing I have just confused the shit out of him. “I was positive the jackass would leave me hanging. I would have murdered him in cold blood.”

“He’d never do that,” the guy smiles at me, a smile that evaporates as quickly as it appeared; making me wonder if I even imagined it. “If he had told me sooner, you wouldn’t have to wait. He texted me like 10 minutes ago, telling me that I need to bring this to the office.”

“He left the stick with you and didn’t tell you what it’s for?”

“No, he asked me to edit the photos,” he tells me. “Oh. You don’t… I’m the G.C.F guy. I’m the other photographer,” he explains and suddenly, the little boxes in my head fall into their designated place.

Taehyung had a photography partner. I’d say a solid half of the photos we’d print were Taehyung’s, and the others belong to the guy always signed as JJK, G.C. F; I have never met him, never asked for his name and before tonight, he had never showed up in the office.

And now I can remember the guy more clearly – he always had a camera, either hanging around his neck or covering his face as he would relentlessly take photos.

“Ah, now I get it,” I smile. “I’m Eunhee, the editor.”

“I know,” he tells me. “Jeongguk.”

Yep, I know the name. It’s all clicking now.

“Well don’t just stand there Jeongguk,” I tell him as I stand up; I walk around my desk and start Hoseok’s PC, knowing that he has a better editing software ready to go. “I’m going to need your help for this. Everyone else is getting shitfaced at Jimin’s so if you’re up for it, you’re going to be the one to help me get this edition ready by 4AM. You up for it?”

Honestly, I’m not particularly surprised when he doesn’t answer me straight away – it’s not like I’m offering him free food, drinks and a night he’ll remember – quite the opposite, I’m offering him a night full of work. Simply put, I’m begging him to help me, without actually openly begging.

“Sure,” I hear him shuffle around as he puts his backpack down on the ground. “Where do you need me?”

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts #bangtan #bangtan smut #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fan fics #jeongguk #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk #jjk #jjk smut

[crystaljins]

Sweet danger

Characters: Seokjin x reader 

Word count: 1.9 K

Synopsis:  4. mafia!au + 3. meet cute + 17. “  hold your fire! ” [drabble game]

Notes:  This one took a long time because I have to admit, mafia aus are too dark for me. I get too scared to write them lol. Like how do I write something romantic about a character who does all the nasty stuff associated with an organised crime ring? And then I thought “Huh but what if they don’t do that” and thus this drabble was born. Also I know you requested quote 19 (which is really popular for some reason???) but that’s already been done so I chose my own one. And I picked a member too. Enjoy!!

Eatjin’s bakery is a pleasant sort of place. It has rosy pink walls and the air smells of vanilla and sugar. The tables are pure white with carefully crafted edges that looks like vanilla frosting on the edge of a cake. The entrance, a simple glass door that lets passers-by peer curiously into the interior, is protected from rain by a bright pink and white striped awning. On either side of the white door are two carefully kept flower beds, with brightly coloured flowers lovingly chosen by the owner. And in the centre of the glass door is gold calligraphy proudly proclaiming the name of the bakery, ones that match perfectly with the elongated golden door handle. The metal is cool as you shakily wrap your fingers around it.

A bell chimes brightly as you push the door open. No one else is inside, currently, which is exactly what you need. You don’t need anyone else to witness your current state. You’d managed to wash the dirt and grime out of your hair, and a thick layer of makeup conceals the dark circles under your eyes. So you look presentable, at least. As presentable as you can be in your current situation.

“One moment!” A warm, friendly voice calls from somewhere in the back of the bakery. You want to cry that you don’t have a moment to spare, but you suppose it’s a good opportunity to gather your wits and composure before meeting the owner of the voice. Because said voice belongs to the owner of the bakery you now stand in, the only person in this world who can help you- retired head of the mafia and formerly the deadliest man in the world, Kim Seokjin.

“You’ve come at the right time!” The man himself cries as he steps into view. He’s handsome- warm eyes and carefully combed hair. It’s dyed purple, an odd choice that clashes a little with the pastel pink button down tucked into pure white trousers he is wearing. However, when coupled with the white soda-jerk-hat with bright pink outlines, he looks perfectly at home in the bakery. Surrounded by cupcakes and the smell of freshly baked cookies, no one would never guess at Kim Seokjin’s past. You, in particular, have walked past this bakery on numerous occasions and never even spared a thought to the who the owner might be. “Yoongi just finished a fresh batch of our famous raspberry and white chocolate cookies. The recipe is to die for.” He’s looking down, dusting flour off his fingers, and when he looks up, he offers you a warm smile. The warmth and kindness of his expression is in direct contrast to the sudden sharpness of his gaze and the way he seizes you up, however.

“You look guilty for being here.” He says abruptly, stepping up to the counter and leaning against the glass display. “Let me guess- you’re breaking a diet. Don’t worry. I’m here to help you.”

He steps out from behind the counter and begins to walk up to you. You aren’t expecting it and take a few panicked steps back. He pauses, surprised at your skittishness, and arches an eyebrow.

“No need to be afraid. I was just trying to say that the cupcakes in this display happen to be called the ‘diet-breakers’.” He explains, gesturing to a case full of cupcakes decorated with perfect icing flowers in various colours, not unlike the flowers in the pots on either side of the entrance. He tilts his head and smiles strangely- it sends a chill down your spine, the way it is both charming and practiced but somehow eerie and a little mean. “Unless it’s not the cupcakes you’re afraid of… but me?” He suggests. You swallow and take another fearful step back. He’s hit the nail on the head- you’re terrified of him. In the last 36 hours you have witnessed all the atrocities the mafia is capable of and Kim Seokjin used to be the head honcho. The pastel pink walls and smell of vanilla can’t cover up the underlying stench of bright red blood that no doubt used to stain his hands on the regular.

“You’re Kim Seokjin, aren’t you?” You say, and your voice is hoarse and shaky. He frowns and nods.

“Well, I am, but most of my customers call me Jin.” He admits. “Which makes me think that maybe you aren’t here to try my white chocolate mudcake.”

You hesitate. He’s absolutely right- you aren’t here for the baked goods he has to offer. You’re here because 36 hours ago your parents were killed right in front of you for reasons you don’t understand yet. And your father had told you with his dying breath that the only chance you and your little sister had at surviving was to find Kim Seokjin, former head of the mafia. And he’d slipped a USB into your hand and begged you to run before blood gurgled up between his teeth and the life drained from his eyes. And you’d tried your best to run like he’d told you to, you really had, but you’d failed. They’d taken her, your little sister and you don’t know if she’s dead or alive and Kim Seokjin is the only hope you have.

“I’m here because-“ You finally gather up the courage to say, but he stops you by holding up a hand.

“No.” He says simply. You blink a few times, before attempting to explain further. He merely cuts you off again. “Listen. If you’re in the know enough to seek me out and call me by my full name despite the fact that you’ve never once set foot in the bakery before today, then you should know this: If it isn’t about my delicious baked goods or a complaint about Yoongi swearing at you when he worked the counter the other day, then I don’t want to discuss it. It’s on the sign.” He tells you, jerking a thumb forcefully at what is indeed a sign bearing that exact sentiment. “If you don’t want to talk about cupcakes we don’t want to talk to you” is what it boldly declares in a shimmery gold that almost mocks you. He steps up to you, close enough that you can smell the scent of freshly baked bread from his clothes and makes shooing motions at you. “Buy a cupcake or leave, please.” He tells you dismissively.

He manages to shoo you about halfway to the door before you dig your heels in. You whirl around and grabs his hands pleadingly. That catches him off guard, and he leans away from the way you crane your neck to try and meet his gaze.

“Please.” You say, and your voice cracks. You’re in agony. You haven’t slept in a day and a half, you’ve witnessed your parents death and your sister, a mere child, could be out there suffering or dead. You need this man and his absurd bakery to help you, to listen to your story, anything. You just need somewhere to go from here, instead of constantly running, fearing that every person who walks passed with their hands in their pocket is concealing a gun or knife. Fearing that in the next moment your phone will ring with a call to inform you that your sister is dead in a ditch somewhere. “I need your help, Seokjin. You’re the only hope I have.” His gaze softens at your obvious desperation and vulnerability, and he’s gentle as he pulls his hands free from your grip.

“I’m sorry. You’re obviously quite young, and if my guess is right, you’ve gotten in a little over your head in that world.” He says. “To which I say, you can still walk away. Turn your life around, friend. That’s the only help I can offer you.”

He turns slowly and it is only because you are staring at his back in despair that you see it- the glowing red dot against the pastel pink of his uniform, centred right over where his heart should be. You’ve been shot at enough now to recognise that a sniper is taking aim at Seokjin.

“Get down!” You screech, throwing yourself bodily at him just in time for the display window to explode and send glass shrapnel spraying across the shop. The mirror hanging on the wall that Seokjin had been standing in front of mere moments before is cracked, what is unmistakeably a bullet lodged in its centre. You peel yourself off where you have plastered yourself protectively over Seokjin’s back and settle so that you are on all fours, hovering over his prone figure. It allows Seokjin enough space to roll over and stare incredulously at his ruined bakery from beneath you.

You’re about to scramble off the former mafia boss when, for the fourth time in 36 hours, you feel the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed to the back of your head. You stiffen in fear and Seokjin groans, staring at the person standing behind you.

“Hold your fire, Yoongi.” He pants, winded from the way you essentially tackled him. “It wasn’t her. Whoever it was, they’re probably miles away now. I know I wouldn’t stick around after missing a shot at the infamous Kim Seokjin.”

The sensation of cold metal vanishes and you sit back on your heels, sighing with relief. You turn your head to find another man with the same pastel pink uniform as Seokjin, though distinctly crueller looking and with a gun pointed directly at you. His eyes hold all the sharpness that Seokjin’s do, but with none of the kindness or warmth.

“I told you we shouldn’t have cut costs and skimped on the bullet proof windows.” The man, probably Yoongi, says, without shifting his gaze from you. Seokjin sits up as well, attempting to shake the broken glass from his shirt without cutting himself.

“I think we’d be the laughingstock of the whole city if anyone found out we installed bullet proof windows in a bakery.” Seokjin says with a sigh. “Although Bullet Proof Bakery does have a nice ring to it.”

Yoongi holds out a hand to you to help you up. You gratefully accept and take stock of your injuries. A few minor cuts from the glass but otherwise you think you’re ok. Seokjin follows suit and gets to his feet. He stares despairingly at his bakery for a moment.

“I retired from the mafia business because I wanted to run a bakery in peace.” He says with  a long, burdened sigh, and he looks like he might cry. He turns to you. “Still, despite the trouble you’ve brought to my doorstep, I’m not an ungrateful man. You saved my life, so in return I’ll give you a chance to explain: Why do you need my help and why did I just get shot at?”

You stare around at the ruined bakery, and at the way the windows are open to the street outside. At any moment, any one could walk by and attack you. And as far as you know, Seokjin is the only person you can trust to help you now, so any eavesdroppers would definitely be detrimental to your cause.

“First,” You say slowly. “Why don’t we go somewhere more quiet?” The weight of the USB in your pocket feels like a thousand pounds and you feel like it is burning your skin. “It’s a long story.”

One that you don’t have all the answers to yet, but hopefully the man in front of you does.

He’s your last hope, after all.

#seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts scenario #drabble game #writing

[warmau]

{Special} College!AU Bang Chan

*this post was commissioned | find other stray kids writing here 

major: music theory & composition 

minor: linguistics 

clubs: tried to turn some members of the music club into a busking group called 3racha ,,,, lets just say they got chased off campus by some of the professors LOL, briefly did tango club against his will because yugyeom dragged him to it 

sports: co-captain of the mens swim team 

chan is the kind of college student who you meet for the first time and you think ‘wow he’s so social and popular and cool!!!!’

and then after getting to know him for a week or two

you realize he isnt cool at all - he’s social and popular - but he’s a downright GOOFBALL 

he takes his studies seriously, music means the world to him and it’s obvious

but he’s also such a ,,,,,,, in the nicest terms possible,,,,,,a big nerd about it 

because he’s gotten into heated debates in classes over who the best modern composers are 

written long, detailed editorials that he’s submitted to the uni magazine about how much he adores the new travis scott album 

and once had to be (forcefully) dragged out of a local tattoo shop by both felix and jisung 

because he was sure he needed the lyrics from drakes ‘in my feelings’ somewhere on his body

quote on quote “dude, that song is a religious experience for me”

but he’s also just devoted to it 

like he lives for all aspects of music 

singing, composing, producing, rapping, he even tries his hand at a dance class as an extracurricular 

much to the shock of minho, an actual dance major,

who got called “my son!” by chan in front of all of his other dance major friends

and has yet to forgive chan for this horror

chan actually got offered to join the welcoming committee at the university for his sophomore year 

because he has this natural leadership ability, coupled with the fact that he always wants to make everyone laugh

like he goes out of his way to make freshman and nervous looking newcomers feel like they belong

even at the expense of looking or sounding like a fool

seriously, like he was showing around some of the new music theory majors and made a bunch of attempts at corny jokes

“guys, if a cow played music what would be called? A MOO-SCICIAN!”

“what do classical composing majors say when they’re parallel parking? BACH IT UP!”

“please laugh,,,,,im begging you,,,,,”

but of course,,,he’s not a goof all by himself

him and changbin see each other on the way to class and stop in the middle of the quad to do the floss enthusiastically for one whole minute as everyone watches in disbelief

him and felix agree to photobomb literally any photo woojin tries to take of himself

and just in general,,,,,they are that loud group of rowdy boys who sometimes can get too hype and loud

but it’s hard to hate them or be annoyed because let’s be honest,,,,,they’re all adorable

chan does of course have a serious side, he’s actually incredibly caring and sensitive to those around him

when jeongin and seungmin come to visit them on campus, he takes care of them 

in subtle ways, but in ways that matter [he makes sure theyre doing well in school and have plans for college too]

he can tell when a friend is feeling down or is having trouble 

and he always lends advice or tries to get them to come out and do something fun with him to lighten the mood

there are times in college when his own work is piling up, he has responsibilities to his major and to the swim team he’s on

but he’ll do his best to cram time in to take care of those close to him,,,,,

sometimes at the expensive of his own wellbeing 

but it’s hard to tell if chan is ever upset - he covers it up with funny jokes and body gags 

him and felix love to talk and switch between english and korean super fast, mostly to annoy their friends 

but they also end up blundering over simple words and hyunjin just lowkey is like 

“hmm chan maybe you should pick up korean as a major,,,,,but it might be hard because youre at like a middle school level right now-”

chan, pretending to faint from that burn “when did i raise such a savage little monster,,,,”

his minor in linguistics comes from his ability to pick up languages 

he actually finds them fun to learn about, but he doesnt give it the same attention as he does to his music theory major

so he kinda sometimes has to go to a tutor

(he hides this from his friends because he knows he wouldnt able to live it down)

did i mention he’s co-captain of the swim team,,,,,,and he’s like oblivious to it,,,,,,, but there are literally students who just come and watch the practice to see him in swim trunks,,,,,,

jisung once came to hangout after practice and he told chan like “did you hear your friends screaming your name back in the pool?”

and chan was like huh i thought that was just in my head

jisung, looking into the camera like he’s on the office

but no again, not matter how packed chan’s schedule is, he always makes time for people when they need him

and sometimes he’s a little too self-sacrificing,,,,,,,,

also id just like to mention that he shows up to instrumental practice with his bag over his shoulder and his hair all messy and curly after he blow-dried it after swimming

and he looks cute

like mega cute

anyway

you’re a dance major who doesnt know chan all that well

you’re much closer to minho since you share a major and youve only heard of chan in stories from him

the first time you meet face to face is when the musical theory majors are tasked with organizing a song that’ll be performed by the dance majors

you’re being paired off, two dancers to one producer 

and by sheer luck you and minho get put in with chan

the first thing you notice about chan is ,,,,,, 

his big almost lopsided grin

“you guys know we have to win and make this the best collab this university has ever seen - right?”

minho crosses his hands and rolls his eyes from beside you

“dude it’s not a competition”

“ok, but im making it one. and we’re winning - right?”

chan turns to you, eyes bright and a bit of a dimple coming out when his smile manages to get even bigger on his face

you nod, a little shy at how friendly he’s being right off the bat

he plops down, minho following suit on the floor of the practice room and you take a second till you join them

“i think we need to make something powerful, something show stopping. i was thinking id use some old tracks from 3racha that i made-”

minho scrunches up his nose

“i dont think the professors would like that, i think theyre looking for something classical”

chan puffs out his cheeks like an upset third grader

and you cant resist a tiny giggle

chan catches it, smiling your way before looking back at minho

“well i guess we can do that. but what about something more,,,,classical meets modern,,,,,do you guys think that’d work for you two?”

you shift a little and chan points to you all of a sudden

“c’mon, you can tell me! i wanna make sure you guys are comfortable and can perform your best! so feel free to drag any of my ideas through the mud,,,,,,,or tell minho off for me”

he chuckles, earning a light punch in the arm from minho

but you actually feel a sense of relief

you were a tiny bit worried that you’d be ignored, working with two people who were already super close

but chan was putting in the effort to include you

so, you mentioned that maybe a more high tempo beat with orchestral influence could work

chan nods - whipping out his music notebook to start scribbling down notes

you notices that the pages are covered in a mix of english, korean, and musical notes

it looks like a total mess, but somehow chan gives off a trustworthy feeling

and when you guys are all done discussing, he promises to have a demo by next week

it’s when you’re gathering all your things that chan pops back in and drops a note in the palm of your hand

“my number! so we can talk about the project and stuff”

he says easily, waving one last time to you and minho before disappearing out of the room again

you stand there, the warmth of his hand is on the paper and you don’t want to think too much about it

but your heart definitely skips a small, minuscule beat

when you finally get the message from chan that the demo is done

you and minho meet up with him after classes and chan, with trembling hands, puts the music on

you can tell he’s nervous, he looks like he might pass out from holding his breath

but the moment you hear the audio - you fall absolutely in love

and just from this one instrumental it’s obvious chan is talented

when it’s over, minho says what you’re already thinking

“it’s perfect bro!” 

he gets up and highfives chan, who rubs some sweat from his forehead afterwords 

“now you guys have to do the actual hard part and come up with a dance”

you shake your head “this song is really great - it’s whats going to make the performance”

chan teeters a bit with his response, for the first time he’s a little caught off guard at the compliment, and you can see the reddening of his ears

“ah,,,i mean it’s ok,,,,but really you and minho are going to have to work hard to-”

he’s interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open 

an upperclassmen that calls chan over to answer some questions

you stand there, holding the USB with the mp3 of the song in your hands 

your mind racing with ideas for choreography 

but when you turn, you see past minho whose saying something to you

and you see only chan in the blur of the rest of the room

he’s glowing, in this halo that you’re sure isn’t actually there

and you force yourself to snap out of it 

because this is weird

you shouldnt see him as anything more than your partner in this project

and that’s what you do see him as

you’re sure of it

but,,,,,,as time passes and chan starts hanging around you even more 

you start to be a little unsure of where he stands in your mind 

most of the time it’s you, him, and minho in the dance practice room

the song on repeat as you and minho show off anything new you’ve come up with 

sometimes you end up being twirled around by minho, sometimes he’s throwing you up in the air, sometimes you’re both laying on the floor making dramatic pulls toward each other

you plan solo parts for each other too

and even though chan admits he has not much experience in judging other peoples dancing

he thinks you two look great together 

he’s always supportive, and he’s always being funny to lighten the mood

there’s moments were either you or minho start to panic about it all coming together

and chan is there with some corny joke

or the usual “what did i say you guys, we’re going to be number one!”

to cheer you guys up

but when you really start to worry about your feelings 

is when one weekend you get a knock on your dorm door

and to your surprise, it’s not someone on your floor asking for an extra charger or an RA trying to find your roommate

it’s chan

he’s got on a training suit, the uni’s name on the back and a duffel bag you’re sure isnt big enough to fit a guitar or anything like that

“chan?”

you ask, shocked

“did you just come from practice or something?”

he laughs, “actually a swim meet - i just thought id stop by and ask if you had time to show me your solo part of the performances.”

you blank for a second

you’d thought this would be another saturday of you laying on your stomach in your mismatched pajamas

watching videos of dancers on youtube, maybe texting a friend to go out and eat

but, even after you agree, and ask chan to wait in the hall while you change

you realize this is going to be the first time you and chan are,,,,,,,,alone

thankfully one of the practice rooms is free when you get to the building

and you suddenly feel really anxious

chan slides down against the mirror and claps

“im excited, i saw minho’s yesterday and thought i should ask you out - i mean ask to see yours too. i was going to invite him, but i think he’s doing something with jisung today”

you hear chan’s voice

but because of your anxiety, the beating of your heart is much louder in your ears

he puts the song on and you try hard to focus

you know what your solo dance is - you know the moves - youve practiced it on your own

but you cant move an inch

“h-hey are you ok?”

chan sees the way your eyes have gone wide, how you’ve frozen and cant seem to snap back out of it

he gets up, stopping the song, and suddenly you feel his hands on your shoulders

you look up into his kind brown eyes

and he gives you that smile, that’s kind of silly but still somehow so genuine 

“are you nervous?”

you nod slowly, embarrassed

“s-sorry, i dont know whats going on i just-”

chan gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze

“it’s fine, but minho told me that your solo is amazing. i know you can do it. just imagine that im like,,,,wearing a big clown nose or something and relax. plus,,,”

he grins

“even if you mess up - i promise im too dumb in dancing to tell”

you laugh a little and chan goes back to sit down and get the music up

this time, you focus on yourself in the mirror

and just let the song chan wrote flow through you like water

the room melts away

even chan’s presence becomes muted

and you just dance

and when it’s over, you look to see chan’s reaction

and he just looks,,,,,,,mesmerized

he scrambles to his feet, but doesnt even say anything

his mouth open, agape like a fish out of water

“i,,,,i cant tell if you liked it,,,”

you ask with an unsure tone 

and chan just shakes his head, his soft curls falling all over the place

“i loved it - i didnt think it’d be that - that beautiful you know? especially to my mediocre song-”

“your song is the reason it’s beautiful”

you blurt out, but then turn a little red when you realize what youve said

even though it’s true

a dancer has to work with something good in order to create something nice to look at 

and chan’s song had resonated with you 

chan stops in front of you and for a second neither of you know what to say

until he puts his hand out and goes

“let’s go get lunch. all that dancing made me hungry.”

you lift an eyebrow, “but you didnt dance,,,,”

“but you did, aren’t you hungry?”

you shrug, “i could go for,,,,pancakes maybe,,,”

chan grins, and leans down 

his hand takes yours and you gasp a little when he laces his fingers betwen yours as well

“pancakes it is!”

he takes you to a nearby place, and even though it’s way past breakfast and the waitress kind of stares when you two order your pancakes and coffee

neither of you really minds

because for the first time it’s just you and chan talking

and to your surprise, there’s a lot you have in common

and it just feels comfortable

he makes everything so easy and free flowing

like you guys talk about your majors, but you talk about aspirations and traveling

and chan tells you about australia with sparkling eyes and a wildly good imitation of a koala bear

and you laugh so hard you have to hide a snort when chan ends up getting maple syrup all over his chin

but he also tells you not to hide a snort, because a snort is cute 

he calls you FREAKING cute

afterwords you two return to campus

but chan runs into park jinyoung, an upperclassman, who apparently works at the college bookstore

and who pinches chan on the ear and says

“instead of dates, you should be studying. but also be sure to be a gentlemen to them.”

you blush so hard, but chan is too in pain and begging jinyoung to let go of his ear to notice

you tell chan that if he has to go, he should

but chan insists that he has time - his linguistics tutor is meeting him at 7 (please dont tell minho that) 

and that maybe you guys can like watch a movie before then

you stare a little and ask “w-watch one where?”

“in my dorm!”

chan grins

but a moment later it falls into an embarrassed, worried look

“i-i-i didnt mean it- li- i just - i - we could - i just - i stole felix’s netflix password so i just thought like maybe youd want to watch like stranger things with me or something - i didnt mean i - i”

his flustering is adorable 

and you do end up watching stranger things on his laptop

but it’s in the common room and you guys have to share his headphones

and when it’s nearing time for him to go

he walks you back to his dorm and gives you the longest, warmest hug of your life

when he leaves, you walk right into your room and fall face first into your pillow because

was that a date

it was totally a date

but after that,,,,,,,,you and chan don’t get to hangout one on one anymore

not to say he changes how he acts around you or anything 

he’s still this sunshine goofball full of positive energy

but he doesnt,,,,,show up at your dorm asking to go out 

he doesnt text you outside of the group chat with minho

and you’re just left confused

because you were sure there were signs - there had to be

it’s clear as day, the memory of chan laughing - watching you as you had leaned over the table to help him clean off the maple syrup

or how he’d let you practically lay your head in his lap while you guys watched stranger things

so why did it suddenly feel like that day,,,,,didn’t happen

as the days to the performance in front of the professors get closer

you fortunately have that to distract you

alongside other schoolwork and responsibilities 

minho asks you at some point if you want to come and get dinner with him and chan

but you feel like you cant,,,,so you refuse

and it’s like being around them - your nightmare comes true, but not because they exclude you, but you start to push yourself away

the last practice before the performance

you’re running a bit late to meet up with minho and chan 

and when you stop infront of the door, you hear the two of them talking

but it’s,,,,,,,,,,tense?

“so you did spend time alone with them, didn’t you?”

“yeah, they showed me their solo part. it was for the project.”

“woojin says he saw you hugging them outside of their dorm,,,,,,dude just tell me straight - it was a date right?”

there’s a pause 

and you realize that they’re talking about you and chan

“no it wasn’t a date. you know i wouldnt do that to you.”

it feels for a second like the air has left your lungs

it wasn’t a date? 

“i dont think of them like that.”

a second twinge of pain shoots up through you, chan’s voice resounding through the room 

had you really misread the signs? was he just being friendly? did you just foolishly think that the first guy to be sweet, would inevitably fall in love with you?

you feel like running away, you really do

but you know that tonight is the last practice - after that it’s just the performance

and then you wont have an excuse to see chan, and he wont need to see you either

so you take in a breathe, plaster a smile on your face, and walk in

the two boys stop talking

there’s no change in expression from minho

he just chooses to look down

but chan does his best to match your smile, but it’s so painfully forced that you cant look at him for too long

“ok, tomorrow is the day so we just have to-”

“i know.”

you cut him off, not necessarily trying to sound angry, but just wishing that this whole thing would be over

the practice goes smoothly

but everything feels like it’s being held in a chokehold

neither you or minho is dancing to your best abilities

and chan excuses himself after the first run through 

and when you find yourself in bed that night, you turn on your side and stare at the blank screen on your phone

“i guess im just an idiot huh,,,,,” you mumble

the one time something nice happens, with someone i could really come to like, it always has to get ruined

chan is nowhere to be seen in the morning

minho is adjusting the shirt he’s wearing beside you and you don’t want to admit it to yourself

but you know you’ll be super hurt if chan doesnt show up

“he’s coming, don’t worry”

minho suddenly reassures

his hand hovering over your shoulder before he pulls it back

you hear the professors call you and minho out, commenting that the instrumental had been produced by musical theory bang chan

you step out in front of the panel of teachers and scan the room quickly

looks like he really didnt come

you turn to face minho and notice he looks just as down as you do

but that’s not what matters now

you have to do a good job on the performance at least

the music starts, the music chan made for you and minho, and you let it flow through you like the first time you heard it

regardless of whats happened - the music is perfect

it fits the movements of your body like glove

you and minho look like you were born to dance this dance for this song

and because you’re so focused

you don’t see the door open quietly, chan leaning against the back wall and watching

his eyes following the tips of your fingers, the bend of your waist, the way you twirl past the professors and minho

how you take what he’s created and channel it throughout every muscle and bone in your body

he had meant it 

when he said you’d made his music look beautiful 

and when it’s over

you face the professors, catching your breath professionally 

and then you see 

chan

the professors are saying nothing but good things, praising you and minho and the music 

but again - the room blurs and it’s just him

once it’s over and the other dance majors are all fawning over you two

you think that maybe you should at least go over and say thank you to chan, one last time for the music

but you cant find the strength to do it right now

instead you try to get your things together quickly and get out of there

but halfway across campus, you hear someone call your name

you turn, shocked to see chan

he’s standing maybe three feet back 

and you have the urge to lie, tell him you’re late for something

but you cant say anything because the expression on his face is nothing like usual

no lopsided smile, no goofy face, no sincere and gentle reassurance

it’s pain

“hey - you heard us yesterday didn’t you?”

his voice is low, and you think you can even hear it shake slightly as he asks you 

“w-what are you talking about”

you play dumb, clutching the strap of your bag so hard you feel the texture dig into your skin

“you heard what i said to minho, that i didnt think ,,,,, what we had was a date. that i didnt see you romantically,,,,”

you swallow a lump you hadnt known was in your throat

you dont feel like dealing with this now - being humiliated after a performance that took every ounce of your energy

“so what if i did, i get it. it’s fine. you don’t have to pity me or any-”

“i was lying.”

you catch yourself on the last words of your sentence

staring at chan you see that his shoulders are stiff 

“i lied, to minho and to myself. it’s just,,,,,i know he likes you. and he’s my friend so i want him to be happy but i,,,,,,but i ,,,,,,”

he takes a moment

and there are students walking past you

the world is moving all around

but it doesnt feel like that, you cant tell the faces apart, you cant overhear their conversations

“but i like you too and i dont,,,,,,,i dont want to hide it anymore.”

you think this should be a happy moment, a moment that overflows you with warmth 

but it feels like it cant be that

not when you now know that there are minho’s feelings involved

but past that - you know your feelings 

and you know that they’re for chan

so you step forward 

and so does chan

until the distance is closed between you two and you look up into those brown eyes

that are always so sweet, so kind and nurturing 

“i like you too. i dont want to hurt minho, id never want to see him sad. but i want you. i want to be with you.”

chan’s lips twitch a little, like he’s fighting against a smile or a frown

“i want to kiss you”

he suddenly whispers

“but i think it’ll be bittersweet.”

you agree, eyes shifting from the curve of his mouth and back up into his gaze

you both decide that the first order of business is to tell minho

you think it’l be awkward and hard

but the moment you and chan walk through the dance practice room, minho just sighs

“i already knew it.”

he announces, before even you or chan can get to the apologizing and explanations

he looks at you gently, “i didnt want you to find out this way - but dont worry. chan is the best guy and the only one i think deserves you.”

you dont even get to thank minho

because chan throws himself into the other boys hands

sobbing about how nice that was of him to say and how he’s going to do everything in his power to find minho his soulmate

and minho is just like 

“please get your boyfriend off me”

you manage to pull back chan

but you’re also like, ,,, huh,,,,,,boyfriend,,,,,,right i guess he is

but just in case

as you two are leaving the dance studio you ask

“are we like,,,dating”

chan puts a hand under his chin

“well, let’s see. i like you. you like me. minho seems to not be hurt at all about this. i want to kiss you so bad im going dizzy. i think it’s safe to say we are dating.”

you giggle, lifting up to kiss the side of chan’s cheek

“there, it’s a kiss i think we can both agree on for today.”

chan pinkness, but agrees

your first,,,well second? date is the next week

you have to wait for chan to leave class and you’re surprised to see him carrying a guitar case

he explains that he isn’t all that good, but it’s part of his major to learn instruments 

and when you guys grab lunch you end up having chan teach you some chords 

it’s a simple kind of date, you get to talk a lot and just enjoy each others company

but of course

chan finds some way to make it funny

(like when he tries to play the instrumental to a song you said you liked and you could tell three seconds in he had no idea what he was doing)

as you two continue to go out and grow closer you come to know more about chan

than just his goofy and caring side

there’s the chan who, in one way or another, is the dad friend

you see first hand how he worries about younger friends, how he reminds felix to call his parents after finals, how he shoves all the snacks he has in his bag into jisungs hands when jisung says he hasnt eaten

there’s the chan whose a perfectionist, critiquing his own work and musical abilities to hell and back

there’s the chan who also,,,,,,is super naive and new to this whole romance thing

surprisingly, he’s unaware of how attractive he is 

and when he wears a lowcut shirt under his jacket out on a date, he keeps putting his hands over the skin and getting all shy

and you’re just like 

“chan,,,,,you know you’re hot right?”

and he almost hits the ceiling like 

“WHA,,,,,stop joking around!”

you: “i can’t call my boyfriend hot?”

chan, digging a whole in the ground to hide in: “yo-you’re the only hot person here,,,”

but really, dating him is such a great and positive experience

because he really is your number one fan and supporter 

and it’s impossible to really argue with him - because if you want to do something, chan is down for it

even if it’s something he’s new to or owrried about

you can tell he fights through his own worries in order to make you happy

which you actually tell him he doesnt have to do

you sit down with your hands on his and youre like chan i want you to be happy too, relationships are about equality 

it makes him so happy he tackles you in a hug ,,,

gosh he’s like an overexcited and loveable puppy

he does this thing where you’ll just be doing something like scrolling through your phone

or looking through a magazine

and he’ll stare at you and go “i love you”

and you’re like,,,,i love you too but why are you just saying it 

and he just shrugs

“felt like it”

“when do you not feel like saying it then?”

“never. i always want you to know i love you.”

is the boyfriend who claims you think all his jokes are funny

and you’re like sure :-) *shaking your head no the moment he looks away*

pulls little, cute surprises for you every now and then

like he left a teddy bear outside your dorm with a heart balloon once

or stuck a sticky note in your bag about how you’re the cutest person ever

“love you possum”

“did you,,,did you just call me a possum”

“it’s an aussie thing. plus possums are cute”

guess who got a plushie of a possum for valentines day? you did!

guess who got a plushie of a koala for  valentines day? chan did!

to be honest get ready to be called every cute pet name that’s available in english, korean, and any other language chan can remember 

you become known on campus by a bunch of upperclassmen when you start dating chan

like this kid named yugyeom walks up to you and is like “did chan take you somewhere fun yet!”

or you met jinyoung again and he told you to make sure chan is studying for his minor 

you and chan were just sitting on the quad once, with your legs over his and his hand stroking your hair

and it was super cute and adorable

and then woojin plopped down next to you and was like

“we found old 3racha videos we want you to see”

and you’re like “3racha?”

and woojin is just like OH YOU HAVENT HEARD

chan tried to chase him off, but jisung - who isnt embarrassed of 3racha era at all - whipped out his phone and was like “let me show you”

jokingly rapping chan’s iconic lines at him and him scrunching up his cute nose

remember when chan got those little cuts in his eyebrow ,,,, you didnt say it but you were like ,,,, ok wow,,,,,how did he get even more handsome

kissing chan? an experience

he shyly admits that his knowledge is kind of limited - and at first it’s a little sloppy 

but he knows what to do with his hands, you dont know how, but he pulls you close or holds the back of your neck

and you melt

but the moment you get flirty, it literally K.O’s chan

if you as much as wink at him or slip your shirt off your shoulder he turns to color of a tomato it’s hilarious

he also really likes when you sit in his lap

he always pulls you in when he has you listen to something he’s composed 

or when he’s got his computer open and he’s like come watch this

and you’re like scoot over

but he’s like no, you just can sit on my lap, it’s yours, forever

swim team chan! coming out of the changing rooms with his hair still wet and shaking it so some of the water gets on you

you get to wear his team jacket :-)

chan lowkey takes all romantic holidays and stuff super seriously, like he goes all out for anything that involves couples

and even if you’re a little embarrassed by it, he’s like no we gotta do it

matching from head to toe? probably corny - but chan is living for it

you and chan mutually agreeing to dote on jeongin like he’s a baby is just a given

because you’re both busy in college, lots of dates are like getting coffee and holding hands and being cute around campus

jisung and bangchan making gagging noises in the background

but chan always muses about taking you somewhere abroad

traveling with you and just being alone 

you tell him that neither of you has the money right now but maybe in the future

you bet chan is like “oh yeah, im talking about it like our honeymoon”

“h-honeymoon?!?!”

chan, covering his outh and turning red: “i ,,, uh,,,, what,,, huh,,,”

but honestly does he daydream about marrying you? im just going to let you decide that

(it’s a hard yes. of course he does. he’s a romantic fool) 

OH how could i forget

the corny texts

sure there are chan’s bad dad jokes, his selfies where he’s doing dumb faces, and the usual complaining about bangchan being mean to him

but there are also the

‘forget to tell you this, but you’re always on my mind’

‘im such a mess, im thankful you still love me’

‘when the world overwhelms you, ill be there to listen to your fears’

and the one that made you nearly break your phone in half because ,,,, cuteness and corn overload

‘im yours, so you better take responsibility for that’

chan is the kind of guy who’d let you draw on his face with a sharpie or lipstick and he’d wear it outside proud because this is my s/o’s art!

if you asked him to run across town to get you cheesecake at 2 am? consider it done

he just loves you with his big heart and,,,,it’s amazing 

but you love him with as much passion - and that’s what makes him truly feel like you’re the one

because you match him perfectly

slow dancing in his dorm to the sound of a self composed instrumental he made just  for your anniversary

and then kissing softly with his hans on your hips and your hands on his face

and him leaning back to tell you

you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him

yeah that’s just one night dating chan, can you imagine dating him forever??????

day6: jae | wonpil | youngk | sungjin by group: bangtan | vixx | got7 | nct | kard | monsta x | seventeen gg specials: amber | momo | irene commissioned: iu | chanyeol | hongseok | baekhyun

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #bang chan au #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #sk scenarios #sk imagines #sk au #sfw #chan imagines #chan scenarios #stray kids #bang chan #writing commissions

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 38

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Jamie surreptitiously uncovers classified Intel about the man mentioned to Madame Cheung that is to be Claire’s client.  However, Madeline and Operations have other motives in mind that has him worried for Claire’s safety.  Although Madeline has profiled her mission, Jamie will not see Claire in jeopardy with this terrorist and he immediately starts to work out a plan.

THANK YOU all for hanging in there with this story each week.  I really value your support of my writing. It is very much appreciated.  Previous chapters can be found ... https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

 CHAPTER 38

Needing to find out just who this Le Comte St Germain was, Jamie typed the target’s name into Section’s Data Base to access Intel contained on his file, however, his computer showed that access was denied to his profile. This immediately raised his suspicions. Why was it highly classified and by whom? There could only be one reason and one person who had seen fit to place this Intel under a secret access code. Nevertheless, nothing was beyond the realms of possibility for James Fraser. Typing a special code into the confidential Vickers Log File, he waited for the necessary security clearance needed to access the secret files on Level 2. Inserting a small USB device into his computer Jamie downloaded the codes as they materialised before his eyes. Once transferred, he quickly removed it, shut down his computer, and left his office ... a man on a mission. James Fraser walked down several corridors in the labyrinth that was Section One until he was standing in front of a private elevator. Keying in a password, he surreptitiously looked around to make sure no one was watching him or more to the point following his movements. He entered the elevator and the doors closed after him with a whoosh. His fingers quickly punched the code … two-two-one-seven-one … into the keypad located on the wall and it quietly began to descend. The elevator continued down several levels, then stopped on seven. Using his apparatus pad Jamie plugged it into a port on the right of the elevator’s chamber. It immediately lit up and he keyed in the code once more. This time the elevator continued its descent before coming to a halt on Level 2.

The doors opened to reveal a deserted small antechamber. 

Stepping out Jamie carefully looked around as the doors shut behind him. This undocumented area was not under surveillance, but there was always the possibility that someone with clearance could arrive unexpectedly without his knowledge but that was a chance he was willing to take. Vigilantly confirming that there was no one there, Jamie turned right and began walking down a small corridor partially lit with eerie green and pink lights. As he walked, he studied the various panels lining both sides with each segment indicating a contained past mission. All the current missions were lit up with a flashing red light, but Jamie ignored them and made his way to K316 … the highly classified terrorists profiles. 

His eyes scanned the panels until he had located the one he was looking for. Feeling for the handle at the bottom of the panel he inserted his fingers in the groove and locating a button with his fingertips he pressed it. The shield immediately began to roll up to reveal a screen and port opening. Once the docking port for the panel was exposed Jamie plugged in his USB device then tapped in Le Comte St Germain’s name.

While the computer searched for Intel on the target he waited with resolve and ever vigilant for any disturbance in this top secret part of Section One. 

In no time at all several windows appeared. Scanning the Intel that materialized, Jamie looked for the one he wanted to appear on screen. In a short time the terrorist’s name was emblazoned on the monitor followed by copious notes on his dealings. Internalising the major details and character traits of St Germain he quickly scanned the Intel as it flashed across the screen. However a noise reverberating in the distance interrupted his perusal. Although tempted to read the remaining Intel Jamie resisted wanting to avoid discovery by Madeline or Operations in a classified area he was not meant to be in. He quickly depressed the download command and parallel bars soon appeared on the computer screen indicating that the information on Le Comte St Germain was being transferred to his office computer. 

What seemed like an inordinate amount of time for the transfer to occur only took milliseconds to succeed. Once completed, Jamie immediately folded it up, pulled his device out of the port, lowered the shield and returned to the elevator. 

Once he had secured the Intel on the target St Germain he immediately gave Claire the go ahead to contact Section One. He spoke her special code word. 

“Jos-e-phine.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Heading in the direction of his office, James Fraser passed through Systems where all operatives were engaged in their duties. However, before he had a chance to reach his office and look at the data he had secretly downloaded he was summoned to the Perch once again by the distinctive thunderous voice of Dougal Mackenzie. “Fraser! … My office! … Now!” Fergus and Murtagh stopped what they were doing and looked up towards the Perch as soon as they heard the command bellowed over the PA system wondering what had got Operations so riled up. They could see Madeline and Dougal Mackenzie deep in conversation in the interior of the eerie and both seemed to be putting across their point of view to the other as they witnessed hand gestures from each of their superiors. Their discussion came to an end when Operations turned to face the floor as if watching for Jamie to appear.  It seemed that all eyes in Section were focused on the man in black who confidently strode towards the Perch as commanded.

Section One’s best cold operative never looked frazzled; he always gave the impression of self-assuredness and control. The two friends shared a look as they watched the retreating back of James Fraser climb the stairs to the Perch to have counsel with Section One’s leaders. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “You wanted to see me?” “Come in James.” Standing as he always did when summoned to the Perch, James Fraser was a man who exuded strength with a deadly and steely aura of power his leaders had come to recognise was ingrained in their top Level 5 operative. James Fraser was a man who showed no weakness in adversity and whose loyalty to the Section was unchallenged. However, where there was connectedness to another person emotionally, there was always a weakness to be found. As of yet Jamie had not displayed his emotions towards Claire Beauchamp openly although Madeline and Operations knew there was a worrisome closeness they could not deny. Her mission profile for Claire could change all that this time. Jamie watched his superiors suspecting that he had been summoned because Claire had finally informed them of Madame Cheung’s surprise visitor this weekend. Their next statement only confirmed that his suspicions were correct. “We got lucky. We have received some Intel from Claire that could play right into our hands.” With a nod acknowledging his second in command, Operations continued, “Madeline has already profiled a special mission for her as a result of this information.” “Claire’s deep cover will only assist in capturing these terrorists and one in particular who has evaded Section One for some time,” Madeline stated with resolve and a look that seemed to be sizing up any reaction from Jamie. “Who?” “Le Comte St Germain.” “We have to run this on an accelerated clock as we have a small window of opportunity.” Operations stated categorically. “I see.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “Claire will do whatever it takes!” He announced adding, “She is Section and knew the consequences that may arise from this deep cover mission.” Standing there aloofly, Jamie digested all the Intel parameters of the mission from his superiors. He failed to respond or show any emotion to Operations’ statement, instead his thoughts centred on their previous briefing in the Perch earlier. It was all making sense now. The innuendo Madeline and Operations had paraphrased in the Perch had all been leading to this. It was exactly as he’d thought … Claire’s real mission at Madame Cheung’s had always meant to be a Valentine one ... probably to lure Sun Yee Lok initially, but due to the current circumstances it would now involve this Le Comte St Germain. Stalking up to Jamie, Operations’ voice spoke brusquely to him, indicating that he was not open to challenge on Madeline’s mission profile. “Do you hear me?” In a whispered voice Jamie eventually replied, “I heard ye.” “Good!” Continuing, Operations handed Jamie a PDA, remarking, “All relevant Intel is on your panel and there will be no deviation from the profile under any circumstances. Is that clear?” James Fraser gave his standard succinct answer in reply. “Of course.” "That will be all.” Jamie’s eyes revealed nothing and his blank persona gave nothing away to what he was thinking. He took the PDA, turned, and without a single glance towards either of his superiors made his way from the Perch. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Madeline and Operations watched from the Perch as their Level 5 operative walked in the direction of his office. They knew that what was contained on his PDA would not sit well with him. James Fraser was not going to like what Madeline had profiled for Claire that was for sure. “Jamie won’t like it. You know he won’t Madeline.” “We’ll deal with that if and when it arises. He's got to let it go.” “What if he can't?” “He'll get over it … or Claire may be in jeopardy.” “It’s a huge risk. It might end very badly.” “It won’t.” 

“I doubt if it's going to be that simple Madeline. There's nothing that he won’t do to protect Claire.” 

“He knows the consequences if he disobeys orders Dougal.” “Cancellation?” “Exactly! No one is immune, and Jamie knows that.” Operations looked at Madeline with a concerned expression on his face for he knew they could never underestimate James Fraser despite his perceived loyalty to the Section. “It may backfire … We’ll need a contingency.” “I agree.” Turning to look at his second in Command, Dougal asked, “Any ideas?” Madeline's expression inferred that she had already given this some thought. “One or two,” she smiled secretively. “Good!” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Making his way past Systems, Jamie headed towards his office determined to find out if the Intel he had gained from the Level 2 secret files and what he knew would be contained on his PDA corresponded. He suspected that Madeline had profiled that Claire be the enticement for this Le Comte St Germain. He was also convinced that Madame Cheung would use Claire’s uncanny likeness to Annalise de Marillac as the lure that would hook her and the triad a very big fish.  All in good time, Madeline would eventually use her to catch an even bigger fish … the leader of the Rising Dragons himself.

However, anything that she had profiled on this mission would be counteracted if it put Claire in jeopardy in any way.  By manipulating the profile with little consequence to himself, Jamie would achieve the end game … but on his terms and his way.  His footsteps were a little quicker, his breathing a little more ragged but his steely resolve was focused on one thing … Claire’s safety.  He was already processing in his mind possible scenarios for the mission regardless of what Operations had said.

Being prepared by knowing who and what he was up against were the weapons of victory.  Jamie was thorough and resolute in his mindset.  Thankfully he was going alone to provide back up and that in itself played right into his hands.  As he walked closer to his office, the fingers of his left hand unconsciously inserted themselves into the button holes of his jacket and he loosened the buttons one at a time. This small sign of his uneasiness showed his doggedness too, for it illustrated the yin and yang of his personality.  

One thing the Master had taught him in martial arts training, and which Jamie had perfected on his own, was that the practise of this esoteric philosophy relied on internal power and strength … characteristics which he had in abundance.  It was the discipline of these two areas that he’d used time and time again on missions, and it was what gave him fortitude in adversity. The training of his inner spirit and mind as well as physical strength enabled him to have advantage over his foes. His stoicism, bravery, courage and powerfulness when unleashed were the characteristics of his inner strength.  This was why James Fraser was Section One’s penultimate cold operative. Showing no emotions he gave nothing away that his adversaries from outside or within Section could use against him.

First things first though.  He needed to check St Germain’s data and the PDA for the mission profile from Operations.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jamie entered his sanctum, closed the door, shut his blinds and without delay sat down and opened up his computer. In the confines of his office, he immediately keyed in his secret password to read the data he had downloaded from Level 2. As the Intel flashed across his monitor, his eyes scanned it. He quickly read the details on Le Comte St Germain’s profile and internalised what was revealed. Leaning back in his chair for a brief moment, Jamie rubbed his chin unconsciously deep in thought.  Then without delay, he cross-checked the details on his panel to see just what Intel Operations and Madeline had on the target and what they had profiled for this mission.  

Le Comte St Germain  is an industrialist and philanthropist, but he is a human trafficker.  He has links to the Russian Mafia and it is suspected that he is fostering new links to the Rising Dragons triad through their leader Sun Yee Lok. Once he has become established in the triad, he will have extensive connections through the Mafia and them to terrorists in both hemispheres.

He moves kids around all over the world in an underage prostitution racket.  St Germain makes them disappear when they have no parents with which to file a missing person or to check on their whereabouts.  He's been instrumental in providing young girls for several “businesses” but is not particular with whom he deals with as long as the money is forthcoming. Until now he's been very difficult to find, we have had no lead on him or his actions … But we do have a lead now and this planned trip to Hong Kong is an obvious ruse to procure business with the Rising Dragons and more to the point Madame Cheung who we suspect may possibly deal in child exploitation as well.

What Jamie discovered next though, set his mind into a tail spin.  It appeared that Le Comte St Germain was particularly fond of a certain type of entertainment, particularly with brunette, statuesque beauties.  Jamie knew that Madame Cheung would be able to provide for his every want and need and that Claire would be his certain type of woman.  If nothing else, she prided herself on her exclusivity in providing whatever her clientele required.  Madame Cheung had been grooming Claire for just this very opportunity where she would be used to entice the target for the benefit of the Rising Dragons.

Section One needs some leverage over him. Claire will do “whatever” is necessary to tag Le Comte St Germain.

Reading between the lines it was obvious that Claire had to valentine herself to this St Germain. Jamie closed his eyes momentarily lost in thought. He loathed valentine missions, but Claire … she would be repulsed by what Madeline had asked of her.  He would not place her in this situation if it could be avoided.

Jamie was well aware that Operations had forbidden him to change the profile in any way or suffer the consequences … usually the threat of cancellation for disobeying orders … but that had never stopped him before and it certainly wouldn’t stop him now.  Whenever his Sassenach was in jeopardy he always had a plan, and one was forming in his mind as he read further.

He read further instructions outlined on his PDA. Jamie will bring him in to Section.

Closing the PDA, Jamie meditatively sat back in his chair a wry smile bowing his mouth as he stroked his chin.  He knew exactly what he would do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fergus watched James Fraser pass by Systems after his briefing without as much as a sideways glance his way.  Casting his eyes towards the Perch he’d seen Madeline and Operations follow Jamie’s departure as well.  Once he had disappeared down the corridor that led to his office, Fergus noticed that his superiors were deep in conversation.  Something was up judging by the way the two were speaking to each other, but this was nothing unusual for Section’s leaders, and he shrugged off the reservations that filled his head and continued on with his tasks.

However, the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach would not go away and it was only exacerbated when he too was summoned to Madeline’s office a short while later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You wanted to see me?” Fergus Claudel asked wondering why he had been sent for. With eyes downcast he waited for Madeline to speak.  

“Yes. When Jamie returns from this mission, I want you to sweep his panel,” she replied with a nonchalant glance.

“Why?”

“That’s no concern of yours.”

“Uh, what am I looking for?”

“Anything under the wire. Most likely, it will be encrypted.”

He knew immediately what Section’s head strategist was alluding to. “You’re looking for any changes to profile parameters?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll get on it as soon as they get back,” Fergus replied assertively, knowing that if he valued his life he could not answer any other way or refuse Madeline’s order.

“Good. That will be all Mr Claudel. You may go.”

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

#jamie and claire fanfic #james fraser #claire beauchamp #outlanderfanfic #jamie and claire #jamie x claire #covert operations #the lallybroch library #jamieandclairecrossover