#on the one hand I like that she’s getting a rounded musical education

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hermione Gingold (Gigi, Around the World in 80 Days, The Music Man)—A late addition to the Hollywood scene, but good lord what a mark she made. With a voice absolutely dripping with allure, she turned every film she was in into a romp her autobiography is racy and hilarious. I adore her.

Agnes Moorehead (Dark Passage, Mrs. Parkington)—i'm just submitting all the milfs at this point

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hermione Gingold:

Agnes Moorehead:

“Daughter of a minister, she’s incredibly religious. Would arrive on the bewitched set with “the bible in one hand and the script in the other.” And once during an earthquake, she refused to run to safety and said, “God will protect me.” - Her father prohibited her from attending an acting school until she had a formal education so she got a degree in biology. She taught at english, speech and history a high school while also getting degrees in English and Public Speaking. Entered AADA at 25. - Her film debut was in Citizen Kane when she was about 40 - She had a lovely singing voice. - Despite her religiosity, her privateness and close relationships with female friends fueled rumors even during her lifetime that she liked women. In her rather emotional interview with Boze Hadleigh, she expressed her desire to not have her private life be reduced to a few paragraphs of sensationalism. It is not really possible to know with certainty. - She had a farm with cows and donkeys. Lastly, I am aware that Agnes was not considered a leading lady and I’d like to campaign for her inclusion as we have reason to believe that this might have been due to the prejudices of ageism, her unusual (but stunning) features and a number of other factors: 'To classify her roles so as to discover her closeted lesbianism, although productive in the exploratory sense, runs the risk of imposing another set of stereotypes upon Moorehead. Linking character actresses and lesbians confirms marginalization, and while Moorehead played marginal characters in most of her plays and films, she could have played the leads had she so been cast, and she did play supporting roles brilliantly. That New York and Hollywood directors cast her as the outsider may be as much a statement about ageism and sexism as about sexual identity. It is probable, however, that her sexual identity figured and figured prominently, and if as an overlay to the other issues, we are left to interrogate the entertainment industry that forced her into exaggeration because she could not express whom she really was. Endora and Moorehead, one and the same, finally achieved supporting star status, with all the ambiguous meanings implied by the ''Bewitched'' narrative; however, Moorehead might have achieved diva status within legitimate classical theatre had she sought unambiguous sexual leads. Because she did not, or could not, we can conclude, using the soft evidence of innuendo and intuition, that her sexual identity clearly affected the direction of her career.' From a paper called ‘The Witching of Agnes Moorehead’ by Lynne Greeley”

#agnes moorehead #hermione gingold #ladies 1 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman

[flamingo-writes]

What would you think if Hobie asks reader to cut the ends of his hair that bother him because of the mask and while she was doing it, she sang a nice song to him, meanwhile some little flowers began to bloom around them.

Really like the last post and this came to my mind immediately.

Listen, I’ve been daydreaming of this the entire day. I think this idea was very cute!

Also, little disclaimer: I was born and raised in Mexico, so, I’m very unfamiliar with how black people’s hair works. I know culturally it has a lot of importance, but other than that I knew very little of the different types of hair and ofc the insane variety of treatments and proper care as well as the different ways to give maintenance to different kinds of dreads. Also, as someone who has had very short hair for 2/3 of my life, as well as shaving my own head for the better part of the last 4 (5?) years, in general hair care and routines are something I’m wildly unfamiliar with, the longest I had my hair in the latest years was a 6 inch or so Mohawk I grew two years ago. Hobie has been a very good opportunity for me to educate myself a lot in hair (especially black people’s hair) and I spent a good portion of my evening watching videos/TikTok’s and reading on dreadlocks and their maintenance. If I wrote something inaccurate or wrong, please let me know, help me see my mistake, and I will fix it as soon as I can.

This came from this other request, I’m thinking of turning into a series.

Flower Bed — Hobie x Reader

Also, you said little flowers, but my brain decided to go for a full flower bed 😭 I hope you like this!

Warnings: none.

“Oí, luv…” Hobie said walking out of the bedroom, looking around you.

“Bathroom!” You shouted as he followed your voice, noticing the bathroom door opened and you kneeling by the shower.

Plants cramped in the shower as you watered them.

“Oh, never mind, you’re busy” He said.

“I’m almost done. I just need to water the ones in the kitchen sink and the monsteras…” You said as you’d todo up and stretched your back. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you if you could help me trim my hair, it’s starting to get long and gets stuck in the mask and, you know…” He asked softly. “But I can’t see the back of my head,”

“Sure, I’ll help you,” You said giving Hobie a kind smile.

He smiled back, walking up to you and kissing your forehead.

“Need help with the plants?”

“As you wish,” You replied happily. “You were asleep earlier and didn’t want to wake you, so I started watering them on my own…”

“I’m awake now,” He said. “I’ll water the monsteras,”

“Thank you, babe,” You purred.

By the time you were done with the plants, you went ahead and started helping Hobie out. You sat on the edge of your bed, as he sat on the floor. Since Hobie was tall, this was the most comfortable arrangement. It wasn’t also the first time you trimmed his wicks. He asked you to help him every few months.

As you put some soft music in the background, you got started, trimming dread by dread. Taking care to cut the hair while keeping the end of the dread rounded. Cutting just across each wick was already hard as they were thick, but you also wanted to keep them looking nice and rounded. Which was also a reason why Hobie asked you for help. You did a much better job at it than him.

Even when he didn’t admit it, or didn’t look like it, every single detail in his appearance was planned. Especially his hair. He liked taking care of it, and over all treated his hair like this very intimate thing, he hated having other people touching his hair. Except you. He actually loved it when you touched his hair, ran your hands through it, your fingers disappearing between the dreads. And the particular care and dedication which which you seemed to tend to every wick.

Deep in your concentration, watching over the little details, you were unconsciously singing. Something you also did quite a lot. When you were deeply focused on something, you’d start humming and eventually singing. Which only added to the relaxing time Hobie was having.

Between your gentle hands running through his hair, and now the soft sound of your voice singing in a low voice, going along with the music. Hobie lived for these little peaceful moments, making him feel absolutely contempt with his life. These little moments were everything to him.

As he had his eyes closed, focusing on every brought of your touch against him, he didn’t notice at first the plants growing around you.

It wasn’t plain on obvious. In fact, Hobie didn’t notice until he felt something tickling his elbows. He opened his eyes and saw flowers growing out of the floor, tiny plants growing buds and flowering. All in a matter of several seconds. And you continue to sing, concentrated. He blinked several times, wondering if you were aware of what you were doing, as he kept staring at the flowers growing and multiplying, coming out of the wooden floor tiles.

“Uh, luv?” Hobie asked in a low deep voice.

“Hm?” You hummed, answering Hobie’s question, sounding way too focused in your job as you were rounding one of the last wicks.

“Are you aware of the fact that you pretty much brought spring into our bedroom?”

“Huh?” You asked confused, breaking your hyper focus and looked around, noticing the flowers covering almost the entirety of your floor. White, red, lilac, and pink flowers, extending across your small bedroom. “Fuck,”

Hobie laughed softly.

“You didn’t notice?”

“N-no…” You whispered softly.

“That’s amazing…” Hobie sighed. “It’s beautiful, by the way…”

“The thing is I don’t know how to…un-grow them…And they’re a lot…” You said softly, the concern building in your voice, making Hobie chuckle. “What are we going to do with all of them?”

“We can always collect them and sell them or whatever, you know?” Hobie chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“In the meantime, we can always enjoy this beautiful scene, what do you say?”

“You’re way too calm for someone who has his bedroom full of flowers…”

“You made them. They’re beautiful. I don’t see the issue, basically a work of art,” He said looking at you over his shoulder, as you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Hobie, pollen give you allergies,”

“Sleeping on a flower bed one night isn’t going to kill me,” He pointed out. “Besides, ever since the spider thing, I get less allergies from flowers,” He said lifting a finger up, making you chuckle.

“Fine! You win this argument!” You chuckled.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too”

“That’s why I don’t mind the flowers. Because you made them,”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Hobie’s cheek before you continued tending to the last two wicks.

“Thank you,” You said.

“For what?”

“Being you,” You sighed. “I’m not precisely fascinated with all the flowers in the bedroom, but the fact that you are, makes me feel better”

“Why, you’re welcome, sweet’eart. Thank you for helping me with my hair,” He said looking at you and giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Anytime,”

#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown headcanons #hobie x you #hobie x y/n

[zilabee]

Snippets from Ticket To Ride, by Larry Kane, a reporter who accompanied the Beatles during the 1964 and 1965 US Tours:

- My own positive relationship with the Beatles was formed early on. Despite my cynical scepticism at the beginning, I became a fan, not only of their professional personas and their music, but also of the individuals they were. What impressed me most about all of them was their indisputable naturalness and, to varying degrees, the depth of their humanity and their lack of phoniness. Another unaffected aspect of their behaviour that was special to watch and be around was their relationship to each other.

- At one point on the tour, as I interviewed Brian Epstein, I mentioned how he seemed so protective of the Beatles. "Well, it is a simple proposition," he explained. "They are special. I believe in them. They should not be compromised or taken advantage of in any form."

- The Dallas police brandished their rifles openly; this was the first time in America that the Beatles had seen rifles at the ready. I got the impression that we would be well protected on this leg of the tour, but the raising of rifles only reinforced the anxiety that the Beatles were feeling. The expressions on their faces, their eyes wandering around, gave me the feeling that they were concerned about their safety.

- On the flight to Ohio, the Beatles seemed joyful. Paul walked up and down the aisle, winking that Paul wink and acting as host of the day. At one point, he stopped by some members of the group Exciter and said jokingly, "Coffee, tea or me?" On the plane Paul was also the biggest walker. He didn't like being confined.

- I knew we were in big trouble when the upholstery of the car's ceiling [started] getting lower, closing in on my face. By sheer force, the eager crowd, jumping on and pressing against the roof of the car, was pushing the metal roof into a dent that evolved into a sinkhole.

Ringo's smile was a wonder to watch.

- The next morning I discovered that the Beatles, or someone in their party, had urinated on the carpets of their suite at the Edgewater. This was the apparent 'plan' Lennon had mentioned to have the last laugh - or in this case the last drop - against local merchants who had planned to cut the rug up and sell it.

- I realised for the first time that this sceptical, cynical reporter was beginning to fall for the music of the Beatles. I was even humming out loud along to the tune, and I continued to do so throughout the evening. Was it the repetition, the hearing of these songs over and over, or was the music beginning to stir my spirits? Whatever the reason, listening to the music was making me feel happy. (Aug 64)

- I was curious, "How many of you have tickets?" Only a few raised their hands. Once again, hundreds, maybe thousands for all I knew, were travelling - and travelling without a chaperone - just to get close to the Beatles. Remember, in those days, teenage girls travelling alone without a parent or guardian was unheard of, but on this ride they were legion.

- Watching Brian Epstein watch the Beatles in complete absorption was one of the most educational sideshows of both great tours. He truly loved their music.

- Much has been said about the static between Paul McCartney and John Lennon after the breakup. But on our tours, we saw nothing but a sensitive closeness between all of them.

- Brian Epstein and Derek Taylor were initially prohibited from getting in making them quite upset. Epstein was also furious that day because Ringo wasn't wearing a tie.

- One of the girls got through and made a wild dash for the elevator. She tripped on a rug and fell to the floor, trapped beneath the weight of two cops. It looked like a football scrimmage. The tape of my conversation with the girl is missing, but I will never forget some of her words. She said, "They're all scumbags, those cops. They suck." She got up, dusted herself off, left the hotel and made it to the street, where she received a round of brief applause from her soulmates.

- The flight from Cleveland to New Orleans featured a magnificent pillow fight, with Lennon and Jackie DeShannon leading the combatants. It was fascinating to watch John Lennon leaping up and down the aisle and - with that eager smile and those penetrating eyes - toying with the pillows and his targets like a five year old in a playground. Practically everyone aboard got involved until a flight attendant, giggling uncontrollably, broke it up.

- One vivid image I'll never forget is of an ice-cream vendor who stopped in place, stared at the Beatles on stage in front of the grandstand and started crying. I said to him, "Is something wrong?" He replied, "No, their music just makes me very happy."

Epstein: I'm very much a Beatles fan. I've probably felt everything that any, um, male Beatles fan ever felt. All the various things I've liked, I think, is what the fans have liked, both in their music and their general manner. To me, in terms of popular music, the Beatles express a cross quality of happiness and tragedy. And this is basically what the greatest form of entertainment is made up of. They in fact do original things. Their songs are always new and different. So are their performances.

- Suddenly I heard the smashing of glass and watched the people inside the lobby rushing toward the windows. When I arrived by the windows myself, the scene was ghastly. Three girls were lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from head and facial injuries. A fourth was up on her feet and trying to stop the blood flowing from her knees. The force of the crowd had pushed these kids through the glass.

- One of the press cars, the one I was in, had a brief upside down experience. Overzealous fans mobbed our vehicle, began to shake it wildly, and ended up rolling it over onto its side. We remained stuck inside for several minutes before the highway patrol were able to right us.

- Ivor Davis (on seeing the Beatles meet Elvis): "We stood a few feet away, trying not to make them feel like prize horses at stud being watched over the fence to see if they'll mate."

- The flight to Indianapolis was subdued, but thankfully it was also short and uneventful. […] Travelling down the aisle later, John broke out a big smile and said, "So how are the nameless, faceless, unidentified news whores doing tonight?"

- Paul was the master host, providing a welcome that made the extremely nervous fans at home and comfortable. In Baltimore, I watched three girls and a boy leave the dressing room and, in the hallway outside, break into tears. They were tears of relief and joy.

- In a corner, John sat quietly and reached into his jacket for his cigarettes. He pulled out a thinner cigarette from his pack, a marijuana joint, and thumbed his lighter to start it. But before he was able to light the joint, Brian Epstein took a quick detour away from chatting with me and a few others, walked over to John, and glowered at him, shaking his head. John slipped the object of his desire back into his jacket pocket, pulled out a legal smoke from his pack, and lit up.

- Art Schreiber: "They were lonely, isolated from the world, both on tour and at home. They couldn't go anywhere. Remember, aside from all the fame and glory, they were young men, barely out of boyhood. I've always been a pretty tough reporter when it came to the people I covered, but let me tell you, they were terrific. I actually started feeling close to them. They really opened up. I was also impressed with how bright they were. They knew how to treat people. They were terrific."

- Paul would look left and right, and wink to a face in the crowd. It was a sexy form of eye candy, tantalizing the crowd with his head gyrations. Paul was a world class flirt when it came to the fans. And they loved him back.

Kane: Will you ever be anything but the Beatles? Paul: We are the Beatles, that's what we are.

#tantalising the crowd with his head gyrations! #for some reason Brian being furious because Ringo wouldn't wear a tie was the highlight of the whole book for me #it's a great book for getting a real sense of these tours #you get a real feel of the noise and the chaos #and the boredom #and it's interesting when he talks about the differences between them in 64 and 65 #lots of quotes and bits from people who went to the concerts too #beatles books #the beatles #brian epstein #ticket to ride #larry kane

[justlittleguysims]

Just a Bunch of Vintage Leftists - 1965

I don't need more OCs to keep track of, but these guys have been floating round my head for days now, and I need them out, so... here are some of Lidia's friends that I plan to feature in my Lidia and Séamus project. Look how dangerous and menacing they are, with their collectivism, their demands for equal rights, and their anti-war sentiments. The horror! The founding fathers are rolling in their graves.

From Left to Right: Bernadette Roberts, Theodore "Teddy" Parsons, Henrietta Bolton, Stanley Meadows, Todd Bradford

(Click for HQ and Character blurbs below the cut)

Bernadette Roberts

Bernadette is a fellow journalist student and friend of Lidia's, who she met at an outdoor music festival a few years back. Together, they have been documenting the daily activities of their local civil rights groups and have been working hard to share resources and educate the public about the cause. Although most of her life is currently revolving around politics, her true passion and goals for her journalism is music. She dreams of one day having a column for a music mag or maybe even a show on the radio where she can interview the greats and share interesting new records with the world. Hell, maybe she could have a television program one day. Just imagine, music on the TV, and it's not even segment on a variety show, it’s like, the entire show is just music... a crazy concept, I know.

Teddy Parsons

Working as the fry-cook at the local lunch counter, Teddy sort of fell into his role as an activist. It all started with him overhearing a few folks talking about different rallies and gatherings, as well as others discussing current events and philosophy while on their lunch breaks. The more of their conversations he overheard, the more he found himself wanting to join and help in whatever way he could. Strength in numbers and all that. So, he began attending their gatherings and reading the little pamphlets that were always being handed out, while making new acquaintances along the way, and now he never misses a meeting. He is determined that life will get better for everyone if they just keep on marching, but in the meantime, he'll keep packing sandwiches for everyone at the rallies. Just make sure you reserve a bag from him a day in advance. He needs to know how many sub rolls to buy, okay.

Henrietta Bolton

She may be a small, shy, church girl, but don't get it twisted now, Henrietta is one hell of a public speaker and public organizer. No one can give a pep talk or lead a group chant better than she can. Nobody here has walked more miles and has done more community work then her, and she does it all in kitten heels too. She helps organize tons of different events across Chicago, from food drives and pancake suppers to sit-in trainings, and if you ever need anything, like a ride to the next rally, or even a place to stay while joining a protest out of town, she is sure to know someone for the job. She's like a walking, talking rolodex of names and resources. Henrietta's middle name is practically praxis at this point. More people need to be like Henrietta, to be honest.

Stanley Meadows

Stanley is Bernadette's boyfriend and is also the first person Séamus befriends when he first came to town, then It’s through Stanley that Lidia ends up meeting Séamus... well, kinda. (Not getting into their meeting here.) Stanley and Bernadette go way back, they grew up on same apartment block, and often walked to school together with their mutual group of friends as kids, but they really only started dating when she invited him to see James Brown on tour over in Detroit on last year. And let’s just say, a lot can happen when you’re on a 4-hour van ride from Chicago to Detroit, and you’re not the ones driving. Now… Stanley only started out coming to Henriette’s weekly gathers to be with Bernadette, but now he's super into the community aspect of the movement. It gives a sense of purpose he didn’t really have before. He's constantly meeting new people, learning new things, and damn, the food at these functions is always pretty good, so you bet your ass he's going to be at this week's meet up too.

Todd Bradford

Okay, look, I've been digging through a lot of old protest photos while researching for this project, and one specific protester style "trope"—If you want to call it that— that I've observed is that of the nerdy, white, male, civil rights activist. Most of them are going to look something like this guy, Todd. Don't believe me, just look up a few photos. There's almost always at least one skinny, Buddy Holly looking ass dude standing around somewhere, and it’s turned into a game of “Where’s Waldo” for me, so I had to make myself one of these guys. Todd is just another journalist student friend of Lidia's. He's a bit awkward, and he totally sucks at hiding his crush on her, but he's otherwise a pretty upstanding guy. And he's always willing to shove a few cops that get a little too close to his fellow demonstrators. He's not here to preach, he's there to support and protect, and if that means buying a fifth pair of replacement glasses this year, then so be it.

If you’ve reached this point of the post, THANK YOU for reading and please feel free to drop an ask about any of these characters. I hope to have more updates in the coming weeks for you all. Please follow and yell at me to get shit done! Okay, thanks, BYE! 💜✨

Further Reading: OC Intros Pt. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 || Pizza Gang Pt. 1 | 2 | 3 || Family Intros Pt. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

#justlittleguy posting #1960 sims #ts4 cas #show us your sims #ts4 screenshots #historical sims #ts4 simblr #simblr #my ocs #ts4 male sims #my sims #project: lidia & séamus #lidia & séamus: the leftists #oc deets #my writing #lidia & séamus: bernadette #lidia & séamus: teddy #lidia & séamus: henrietta #lidia & séamus: stanley #lidia & séamus: todd

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch 11

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Taglist: @silverhetdanes @lampalooza

late bloomer, ch 11

“Olivia!” Reese goes over to her with a hug. “Perfect timing.” 

“Now that?” Lou whispers. “That I will definitely not miss.”

"Does she—" You look from her to Olivia, back and forth. "I mean, do they come here a lot?"

"Oh, yeah. Look I'm all for uniting forces or whatever. And most of the Triple O folks are super sweet—"

"Plus, they can organize the shit out of a fundraiser," Regan adds.

"—True. But I went to high school with Livvy Freidmonte, and unless she's changed since then…" Lou shakes her head. "I know a first-class bitch when I see one. I wouldn't trust that girl as far as I could throw her."

"Really?" you ask. "What exactly—"

"Alright, everybody!" Reese claps their hands together, and the room settles down. "Let's get started. Re-started. For the new folks, this is Olivia Freidmonte; she's one of our siblings over at Triple O, and our head coordinator for collabs! Olivia?"

"Hey there!" Olivia is all smiles and pep as she waves at the crowd. "So stoked to be here. Now, as most of you probably know, the Winter Wonderland end-of-term music festival last semester was a huge success. Between ticket sales, merch profits, and voluntary donations, we raised twenty thousand over the span of two days, all of which went directly to fund arts education programs at high schools in the surrounding areas."

A round of applause, which you find yourself joining in on. Whatever your personal feelings on Olivia may be, twenty thousand dollars in two days? You can't help but respect it.

"Looking into the future…the good news is, we're less than two weeks out from our spring fundraiser! Bad news: thanks to a little fire snafu, Grand's is closed for repairs all month. So we're on crunch time to find another venue. It's a smaller event, very lowkey; ideally we want to find somewhere closer to campus, with a kitchen or at least a fridge we can use to store food, mix drinks, stuff like that." She scribbles a phone number on the board. "Just shoot me a text if you know of a place. This is a great opportunity to…"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regan whispers. "She seems super nice."

"You just think that because you're super nice, Ri," Lou whispers back.

"I'm just saying! High school was a long time ago."

"Yeah. I don't know. (Y/N), you're in the same year as her, right? You must have crossed paths. What do you think?"

As you open your mouth to say something, Olivia's gaze falls on you. You freeze. It feels as though time slows to a halt: she pauses in her presentation for a moment. Her smile falters. Her eyes narrow slightly.

Then, as though nothing happened, the smile is back on her face, and she continues on, just as peppy as before. You let out a breath, before remembering that Lou and Regan are still both looking at you, waiting for an answer. You give them a tiny smile. "No comment."

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

As the evening winds down, you have to admit: you had a pretty good time. Olivia ignores you, to the point that you begin to wonder if you imagined her noticing you during her presentation entirely. You trade numbers with Lou and Regan, offering to answer any questions they might have about surviving senior year, and promising them you'll consider coming to the next Cozy Quorum. Overall, as you exit into the cool early-spring air, you're feeling pretty good.

"(Y/N)!"

"Hey!" You turn to Reese with a smile. "Thanks for inviting me. This was actually really cool."

"Not so bad, right?" You nod. "Now, listen, I swear I didn't have any ulterior motives when I ran into you this morning, but…"

You try to pay attention. Really, you do, but your head is too scrambled. If Haruhi isn't home (it's a Sunday, so probably she is) (on the other hand, she doesn't have any classes on Mondays…) (does Tamaki?) then you only have to worry about dinner for yourself, which means eggs. Or, no, you were supposed to pick up eggs today. Chips and dip, then. And then the paper proposal. Technically you have until the end of class, but you really should email it by morning—were you assigned an early morning shift at the cafe tomorrow? No, an afternoon one.

Your phone buzzes, and you can't help but glance down and see it's from an unfamiliar number, and you're suddenly too distracted to—

"—think?"

"Hm?" Reese is looking at you. Shit. Your cheeks heat up immediately, mortified as you are to be caught so blatantly zoning out. They don't seem to have noticed, though, so you take a crapshoot and give them your most enthused nod. "Right! I mean, yes, absolutely."

"You are a lifesaver." Reese claps. "This is perfect. Let me just put you in touch with—there she is."

Before you can stop them to ask whose life you're saving, and how, and what exactly you just agreed to, they tap someone on the shoulder. That person whirls around and—oh, wouldn't you know, it's—

"Olivia, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), Olivia. You're both first-year grad students, I think?"

"We've met," the two of you say simultaneously. She sticks a hand out, which you accept. "(Y/N) and I have a class together, actually. Some gender-studies thing."

"The Radical Dynamics of Jane Austen," you supply. This handshake is going on for way longer than is comfortable.

Reese nods, possibly sensing the tension, but eventually deciding to bowl through it anyway. "So. (Y/N) works at that incredible coffee shop on the corner of Oak and Whitley, and apparently it's free two Fridays from now, which means…"

Olivia's look of disdain explodes into an overenthusiastic smile. "Oh, my gosh! Seriously?"

Before you can say anything, Reese nods. "I'll leave you two to work out the details—but, (Y/N), seriously? Thank you. I owe you one." With a wink—to you? To Olivia? Who knows!—they're gone.

"Well." Olivia looks you up and down. Between the necklace and the blowout and the perfectly coordinated pink outfit, it’s like looking at Evil Elle Woods. “You’re just popping up everywhere, aren’t you?”

You meet her fake smile with one of your own. “Could say the same about you.”

“Oh, the Trips all love EpPhi. We throw mixers all the time. It was so awesome to have you join us last night!” The smile she gives you practically shows each and every one of her perfectly square, perfectly white teeth, making you feel even more like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. "I didn't realize Reese was finally able to get that due waiver program rolled out."

"Hm?"

"Oh, you know. Greek life can be so…you know. Old money. Reese is super dedicated to trying to diversify—" (somehow, she manages to make that sound like a bad thing) "—and I guess it's working."

"Oh, no. I'm not joining. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with joining." Why are you trying to explain yourself? If Olivia's decided to dislike you, nothing you say is going to win her over. "I just came to check it out. It was cool, though—your presentation was great."

She scrunches her nose at you. "Thanks. Well. Even if you're not pledging, that just makes it even nicer of you to get so involved."

"Oh, no, I'm not—"

"No modesty, please. You're a total lifesaver. Anytime we have insider contact for a venue, it's always, like, an executive whatever, and half the time they don't have any idea what actually goes into putting together an event like this. It'll be so helpful to have the perspective of, you know. A lower-level employee."

You are so, so tempted to just say it was all a big mistake.

But the cafe calendar is empty two Fridays from now. And Reese, who has been nothing but nice to you since you met, seems kind of desperate for you to say yes.

Not to mention, all special events at Ground Up get logged as overtime hours—meaning, double pay.

Double pay plus tips.

So, with no small amount of reluctance, you nod. "Mm-hm. Right." This fake smile is beginning to hurt your cheeks. You clear your throat. "So! We should, um, set up a time to talk through specifics, right? I have a shift at the cafe tomorrow afternoon after class, if that's a good time. That way you can get an idea of what the space looks like?"

"Perf." The gap between her words and the way she looks at you while saying them is starting to make your head hurt. She passes you a card. "Here's my number."

"Great." She's already halfway down the street, clearly just as eager to get away from you as you are from her. "See you in class!" you call after her. Your phone buzzes again—a two-minute reminder of the text from earlier. You swipe it open.

unknown: Shockingly, I did not get 'sexiled' tonight.

unknown: Hopefully this doesn’t mean you’re sleeping on the front porch.

A smile rises to your mouth unbidden. You create a new contact with the number, and then type:

Y/N: I have a bed of my own, you know.

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

You're shutting the front door of your apartment behind you and kicking off your shoes by the time you get a reply.

Kyoya Ootori: I’m aware. 

Kyoya Ootori: It’s a good one. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.

"You're home late."

You look up. "And you're…home." You toss your bag under a chair and tuck your phone into your pocket as you sit down across from Haruhi, who's typing away furiously at her laptop. "Rewrite?"

"Prewrite." She takes a sip of coffee, then goes back to typing. I'm trying to get ahead on work for the next two weeks, so that I'm not behind when I get back."

It's not unusual for Haruhi to be on top of things—but missing class? "Get back from what?"

"Tamaki's heat is coming up this week. Thursday, probably. Kiera's heats were always pretty long." Kiera…ah, yes, that was two ex's ago. "Tamaki says his usually only last a couple of days, but I want to be ahead. Just in case."

You feel like you're moving underwater. Even blinking seems to take twice as long as usual. "Can't hurt to be prepared," you manage.

"Mm-hm." She takes another swig of coffee, finishing the mug. You grab it and go to brew her some more, if only to get away from the table. Seemingly oblivious to your general state, she asks, "What about you? Good weekend?"

"Weird weekend."

"Weird? Huh." She chuckles, but doesn't press further.

The coffee starts to drip. "That's big," you say. "The heat stuff."

"Oh, this is nothing. I should have it all done by tomorrow."

"A big step in the relationship, I mean. Like, spending a heat together." You lean against the counter, chewing on your bottom lip and shooting another text to Kyoya.

Y/N: My halfprice preowned fb marketplace boxspring is honored

Kyoya Ootori: Hang on, checking my clothes for bedbugs.

Y/N: >:(

Kyoya Ootori: Just a joke. I promise.

Y/N: I know

Kyoya Ootori: Okay, good.

Y/N: That was just the face i made when i realized there isn’t a bedbug emoji

"I mean." You shake your head, bringing your attention back to the present. "Are you nervous at all?"

She stops to think about it, head tilted slightly. "No," she finally says, turning to look at you for the first time since you walked in. "Actually, this is the first time I haven't been nervous to spend a heat with someone new. Is that weird?"

"No." The way she says it, so matter of fact, sends an odd pang of sadness through you. You think of how Tamaki looks at her. The way she looks talking about him. Kyoya's certainty when he talked about what a good match they were. "It's not weird at all."

"Really?"

You pour the coffee, and try to smile as you bring it over. "You know I don't know anything about how all of this heat stuff works. But I do know this guy makes you happy, so. As long as he's treating you well, I'm happy." At least that much is true.

"Mh-hm." She gives a little smile, but you can tell her attention is firmly back on her work.

Which reminds you, you should be getting to your own work. You give her a pat on the shoulder. "I'm gonna hit the hay."

She nods. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Anytime. Don't stay up too late."

"I will."

You share a chuckle at that. "I know," you say softly.

As you reach your doorway, she calls out, "Oh, hey—did Kyoya end up dropping off the vitamins the other night?"

You freeze. "Uh, yeah, actually. He did." She doesn't look up, and you decide to test whether or not she's actually listening. "I invited him in to hide from the rain, we split the bottle of vitamins over candlelight and smooth jazz, he ended up staying the night. Super romantic. We're madly in love now. Instead of fighting during class we just make out on the seminar table."

"Cool."

Yeah, she absolutely isn't listening to you. "Yeah. Cool." Probably this is some sort of karma, for how you did the exact same thing to Reese earlier today—mm-hm-ing and yeah, sure-ing your way through a conversation. But it still stings. "Night."

"Night."

Kyoya Ootori: You’re…sad that there’s no bedbug emoji?

Y/N: Thatss a lie, actually

Y/N: Id pay the emoji people every cent in my bank account to never ever create a bedbug emoji

Kyoya Ootori: Noted.

Kyoya Ootori: I hope you had a good day.

You smile.

Y/N: You too. 

Y/N: Enjoy not being sexiled. I'll see you in class tomorrow?

Kyoya Ootori: Likewise. See you then.

Kyoya Ootori: I actually have something I want to talk to you about in person, if you’re free after.

But by the time that last text rolls in, you’ve already washed your face and brushed your teeth and started typing away at your own laptop, phone face down on your nightstand.

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

Come morning, you've written a paper proposal that you're pretty proud of, actually. Abe was right—you are capable of more than that first effort.

Unfortunately, writing it did take you most of the night. Meaning you only got a few hours of sleep before your alarm went off. You skim your new notifications, only half processing them—until you see an email from TA Abe asking if you can swing by his office hours after class.

Shit.

Did he already read your proposal? Is it really that bad?

Whatever the verdict is, you’re not going to improve anything by skipping class. You drag yourself in and out of the shower, chug some decaf coffee—a placebo for dire situations like these—and run. When you get there, the seminar table is about halfway full. You slide into an empty seat by the windows. When Kyoya comes in, you give him a wave and a smile, which he returns. You're about to gesture that he should take the empty seat next to you—

When Olivia slides into it.

“Morning.” She pulls a lipgloss and tiny mirror out of her bag, touching up her already perfect makeup. God, you wish you were that put together. Even at nine in the morning, she doesn't have a single hair out of place. "Are you still free after class?"

"Yeah—I just have to pop by Abe's office hours super quickly, if that's alright?"

She gives you a thin smile as she snaps the compact shut. "Sure." Before you can respond, she's turned away from you. "Kyoya! Where did you disappear to this weekend? I was…"

You tune her out. It's too early in the morning to eavesdrop, you decide, especially on two-point-five hours of sleep. You'd estimate you have maybe five hours of awake time left in you before you crash, if you're lucky. And that's not even taking into consideration the sheer amount of energy you're going to have to expend trying to get through this meeting with Abe, and this meeting with Olivia, and your actual job.

Class feels ungodly slow. It's not boring, of course—how could it be? But your exhaustion makes you sloppy, combined with how on edge you are about your meeting with Abe. You try your best to keep a low profile. Kyoya must be able to sense you're a bit out of it, because he goes a little easier on you than usual. Or maybe that's just because he remembers your conversation from this weekend, and because Olivia is literally sitting smack in between the two of you.

In any case, you're relieved to make it through class more or less in one piece. When it's done, you stand up, ready to follow Abe and a few other students to his office elsewhere in the building. As you make it to the door, a wave of dizziness overtakes you, and you stumble.

"Woah." Kyoya is there, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." You blink. "Sorry, I just had to pull an all-nighter last night."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's nothing." You wave a hand. "I've been taking my multivitamin, so. Iron for days, over here."

He chuckles. "Glad to hear it." He sticks his hands in his pockets.

As he opens his mouth to say something, you glance a ways down the hall, where Olivia is giving you the death glare to end all death glares.

"—work?"

You blink again, and look up at Kyoya. You get the sense that he's expecting you to say something, though you have no idea what. You're about to ask what, but then, there, behind Olivia, Abe disappears into his office. "Work. Yes, office hours and then work. I have to run—sorry—but I'm all good, I promise!"

He says something else, you think, but you're too far down the hall to hear him. Oh, well. It probably wasn't anything important.

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

You walk into Abe's office just as another student is leaving. Abe looks up and waves you over. 

“(Y/N), hey! Great timing. Have a seat—this’ll only take a second.”

You drop your bag and coat and sit. He’s busy pulling up something on his tablet. You feel more and more like you’re about to throw up with each passing second.

“So,” he finally says. Your stomach clenches. “Got your email. I only had a chance to give it a cursory lookover this morning, but…” He turns off his tablet, puts it onto the table, and gives you a smile. “It’s really good work, (Y/N).”

Your heart leaps into your chest. “Really?”

“Really. Look, I’ve read all the JLT essays for years now, and you’ve always been solid. But this is a step up.” He gives you a thumbs up. “Good job pushing yourself, kid.”

There’s still a lot to do, of course—the deadline for the assignment, and the contest, is less than a month away. But it’s a step in the right direction. It’s amazing what the tiniest bit of academic validation can do—you feel like nothing could possibly bring your mood down.

Not even Olivia, who's in the hall when you come out of Abe's office, still chatting with Kyoya. When she sees you, she waves to you, then leans in closer to Kyoya to say one more thing, her hand resting on his chest. You do your best to look disinterested. The last thing you need to do is give her any more reason to think the two of you are fighting over Kyoya.

After a few more giggles and another long touch to Kyoya's arm, she bounds over to you.

"Sorry about that," she says. "Let's walk?"

You give her a nod, and a tight smile of your own. As she grabs her phone to shoot off a quick text, you can't help but take one glance back at Kyoya. Kyoya, at the other end of the hall. Kyoya, who you still can't quite figure out.

Kyoya, who's looking at you, too.

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

The planning part goes relatively painlessly. Olivia might be the most organized person you've ever met, with an event binder perfectly sectioned and highlighted in a rainbow of sunset tones. She has all of the forms needed—some for you to sign, others for you to pass along to your upper manager—and knows all of the right questions to ask about time, spacing, cleanup, fees.

"You're really good at this," you tell her, and you mean it. With her help, you've accomplished in five minutes what would take most people hours—weeks, even—to get done. She shrugs. "No, seriously. It's really impressive."

"Oh, this is nothing. My mom is involved in, like, a billion different charities, and I'm the oldest, so I got roped into helping out when I was, like, eight. And all of the planning for this was done already. All there really is to do is transplant all of the catering and things to the new venue. Reese was right about using this place. It's cute."

Was that…a compliment? Not to you directly, but still. "You think?"

"Yeah! Tiny, but cute."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She turns a page, seemingly very interested in the binder as she asks, "So, like. How do you know Reese?"

"Huh?" You were expecting her to ask you about Kyoya. But in the twenty minutes you've spent walking to the cafe, and now sitting here, she has yet to bring up his name once.

"I mean, I'm by EpPhi a lot, and I've never seen you around there. And you said you're not pledging or anything."

"Right." This is still a territorial thing, then—just after actual territory, this time, not romantic territory. "No, yeah, I just—we ran into each other at a party, and I guess they were looking to recruit people for the open-night meetings?"

Before she can answer, you hear: "Livvy!"

Both of you look up and are immediately crashed into by a couple of red-headed whirlwinds.

"Hey guys," you say, once Kaoru has released you from his iron grip. "Oh, shit, am I late?"

"What? No way. You have, like, five whole minutes before our shift even starts." Kaoru says, ruffling your hair before turning to address Olivia. "Miss Freidmonte. Never thought we'd catch you on this side of campus."

You look back and forth between them as they start chatting. Before you can ask any questions, a new voice says, "I came here expecting to see one friend, and here's four!" Brighter than the twins, even. "What are the odds?"

Tamaki, radiantly cheerful as always. When he finishes hugging Olivia and each of the twins, he sweeps you up into a bone-crushing hug of your own. "(Y/N)! Long time no see."

"Oh!" You do your best to smile as he pulls away. "Hi!"

"I hope these three aren't giving you a hard time, are they?" He playfully bats one of the twins on the shoulder. You let out a confused laugh.

"No, we just—Hikaru and Kaoru and I work here, and Olivia and I were just going over a project—what brings you here?"

"Oh, Haruhi wanted some coffee, and I thought it would be nice to come say hello! Since I'll be stealing her from you for the next week," he laughs.

"Hi." Peeking out from behind him—Haruhi. She gives you a little wave, which you return. "I'll be out of the house tonight."

"Oh, yeah," you say, your brain almost entirely blank trying to process all of your different worlds colliding at once. "Totally. No worries."

"I picked up eggs, though. And some more tea."

"Thanks. That's—"

"Haruhi," Tamaki interrupts, "have you ever met Olivia?" As the two shake hands, he claps his own together. "So many of my favorite people, all in one place! And (Y/N), you said you two were working on some kind of project, right? Sounds fun."

"Yeah," Olivia says, flipping back a few pages in her binder. "The EpPhi-Triple O joint fundraiser next Friday? We're having it here—you guys should totally come!"

"Next Friday? I might be out—heat leave."

You're shocked once again at how casually he says it. Even more than that, how casually everyone else responds. "Oh, totally," Olivia says, with a sympathetic nod.

"First heat together, huh?" Hikaru says. "That's exciting!"

You are going to be ill if you have to sit through another second of this conversation. You glance at your phone, desperate for some excuse. "Two minutes! I should start getting ready for work." You grab the stack of papers to be signed. "Liv—Olivia—thank you for…" You wave the papers. "I'll email these to you?"

She nods, only half paying attention as she continues explaining the fundraiser. Good enough. You get up to go. Haruhi gives you another muted smile as you leave, and Tamaki another blinding one.

As you walk away, you turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling, scrolling…and see another text from Kyoya. One you'd missed, last night.

Kyoya Ootori: I actually have something I want to talk to you about in person, if you're free after.

Huh.

It was sent a while after his last text to you, too. You start typing.

Y/N: Sorry I missed this. I'll be at Ground Up until 5

Y/N: Is everything ok?

You backspace that last text, but send the first. Almost immediately, three dots pop up as Kyoya starts typing out his response…

Then the three dots disappear.

You stare at your phone.

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

It can't be anything bad he wants to talk about, right? That's what you tell yourself as you go through the motions of manning the register, checking mobile orders, rinsing shakers. If it was something urgent, he could have told you as much. But you can't imagine anything he'd need to talk to you about that couldn't be discussed over text.

Olivia's still at her table, which isn't exactly helping your nerves. Not that she's looked your way since you went to go clock in. She's still pouring over her binder, cross-checking a page with something on her laptop, occasionally marking something in highlighter or Wite-Out. More fundraiser stuff, probably. Or homework. Tamaki and Haruhi are still here, too, on the other end, sitting at a table pressed up against the windowed wall. It's probably a bit creepy, you know, the way you can't stop sneaking looks at the three of them, but it's either that or keep thinking in circles about Kyoya.

Which you're still doing.

Maybe…maybe it's the breaking heat news?

That's the only thing you can think of. Yeah, surely that's it—you've set yourself up as someone he can complain to about Tamaki and Haruhi, after all. Maybe he just wants to have a vent session. God knows you could probably use one, too.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?"

"Hm?" You look over to see Hikaru putting order stickers on cups and sliding them over to his brother.

"You've been washing out that one shaker for, like, two minutes straight."

"Oh." You shake your head, grabbing a towel to dry it off. "Sorry."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Nickel?" Kaoru immediately tries to one-up him.

"Dime?" Hikaru counters without missing a beat.

"Quarter?"

You roll your eyes. "Livvy, huh?" They both just shrug. "So you guys just know everybody, now, is what I'm gathering."

Kaoru snorts. "We don't know everybody. You just happen to know nobody, which is why it seems like we know a lot of people by comparison."

"That's true," Hikaru says. "Although, she said you're helping her with this fundraiser thing?"

"Yep."

"(Y/N)!" He slaps you on the back so hard you almost drop the cup you're holding. "Look at you, going out and socializing! Trying new things! Can you believe it, Kaoru?"

"It's not a big de—"

Kaoru places a hand over his heart and sniffs. "They grow up so fast."

"You guys—"

"I'm just so honored we get to see it happen." They both step away from you, wearing identical expressions of mischief. "Although…"

You cross your arms. "What?"

"You still won't tell us who your mystery date was on Saturday."

"Oh, my God."

"You know, I just…" Hikaru lets out a huge, exaggerated sigh. "I thought we were friends, (Y/N)."

"No." You shake your head, turning away from them both, even as an unwelcome smile plays at the corners of your mouth. "None of that."

"I thought the countless hours we spent toiling away here meant something."

"I guess not."

"Kaoru, not you, too," you groan. "Guys. Seriously. We had this conversation. You thought it was Reese Barlow, right? So, sure. It was Reese Barlow."

"Nice try," says Hikaru.

"Yeah. No way we actually fall for that."

You press your lips more tightly together. They look at each other and sigh in unison.

"Such a shame," Hikaru says, shaking his head. "I guess we'll just have to ask Haruhi."

Your head snaps up. "Sorry?"

They both nod towards the far corner of the cafe, where Haruhi and Tamaki are still seated. Or no, sorry, just Tamaki is seated.

Because Haruhi is on her feet and walking towards the counter.

#late bloomer #kyoya/reader #kyoya x reader #kyoyaxreader #softprettything #kyoya fanfic #ohshc x y/n #a/b/o #ohshc x reader #a/b/o fanfic #chai.writes

[nirvanaxrhodes]

"Said, I'd get sick of you, I kinda always wanted to" Let me die this little death

whoa! nirvana rhodes just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for three years, working as a/an occult researcher/therapist. that can’t be easy, especially at only 31 years old. some people say they can be a little bit intangible and sarcastic, but I know them to be adroit and dauntless. whatever. I guess I’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to the bronx ! 

►GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Nirvana Christine Rhodes NICKNAME(S): Vana, Ana, Rhodes LABEL: The Mystic AGE: 31 DATE OF BIRTH: October 30, 1992 ZODIAC: Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Rising, Leo Moon GENDER & PRONOUNS: Female; She/Her HERITAGE: English, Maltese SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): English OCCUPATION: Occult Researcher/Therapist SEXUALITY & ROMANCE: Bisexual; Biromantic

► APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Samara Weaving HEIGHT: 5'5" WEIGHT: 114 lbs. DOMINANT HAND: Right HAIR COLOR: Blonde (dyed from dark brown) EYE COLOR: Blue SCARS: None notable. TATTOOS: Black cat (right wrist), 'made of stardust' written in script (back of neck)

►PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: Adroit, Dauntless, Beguiling, Open-Minded, Ambitious, Prophetic. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Sarcastic, Intangible, Arrogant, Sycophantic, Self-Sabotaging. LIKES: Stargazing, burning candles/incense, thunder storms, music on vinyl, horror movie marathons, deep conversations with strangers, solving a problem before everyone else, eureka moments, curling up with a book, conducting tarot card readings, making intention jars/journaling, baking. DISLIKES: Dogeared book pages, when people wave you off in the middle of passion-dumping, when people ask for advice but don't take it then complain.

►MENTALITY

PHOBIAS: None. DISORDERS: Not diagnosed. ALLERGIES: Seasonal (Pollen), Mold

►BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Sydney, AUS CURRENT RESIDENCE: Bronx, NYC, NY EDUCATION LEVEL: MA in Clinical Mental Health Counseling; is in a PhD program with an independent specialization/research in Parapsychology at NYU FAMILIAL CONNECTIONS: - Shayna Rhodes - 55, Mother, Not In Contact - Alexander Rhodes - 51, Father, Not In Contact

►FAVORITES

FOOD: Lavender shortbread cookies DRINK: English Breakfast Tea MOVIE: Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Practical Magic, Scream TV SHOW: Bridgerton, Criminal Minds, Rick & Morty BAND/ARTIST: The Killers, Lana Del Rey, Nirvana, Fleetwood Mac SONG: Fall Out of Love - Salem

► EXTRA INFORMATION

JUNG TYPE: INTP ENNEAGRAM: The Troubleshooter (5w6) TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral SIN: Ego VIRTUE: Wisdom ELEMENT: Air CHARACTER PLAYLIST

Well, there's a black hole inside of me, apathetic vacancy Even just a touch is war

► BIOGRAPHY

TW; Religion mention

Nirvana was born with a gift to appreciate the unusual. At least, that's how her aunt would explain her all-black attire and obscurely-colored hair phase at family events. She was always a square peg in a round hole. This was something she grew used to and actually favored her individuality. There was a part of her that pitied the other girls who attempted to fit in when she grew up being shamelessly herself. Though she was labeled as an outcast, she still had something about her that drew people in. She had a great group of friends, and her fair share of experimental relationships. In short: she didn't miss anything, but she wouldn't have cared if she did. Her aunt was the one who taught her about spirituality after Nirvana had a paranormal experience at the age of 5. Whilst being in a Catholic household, Nirvana and her aunt would often sneak in order to practice their own eclectic belief. Magic, tarot cards, seances, you name it - Nirvana has dabbled in it. What no one was expecting was for her to make a career move out of it. It started in high school, she helped assist her teacher in their paranormal investigation group. It was through this teacher that she learned about anomalies and the role of the paranormal in anthropology. Her job as an investigator was just the groundwork for her BA in Anthropology with a specialization in Women and Minority Studies where she learned more about the occult across various religions and cultures as well as witchcraft and the impact and power women have within interaction, at the University of Exeter. She then went on to gain a MA in Clinical Mental Health Counseling from Stockon University in NJ. Currently, Nirvana is working on her PhD at NYU with an individualized specialization/research concentration in Parapsychology. At this point in her career, she can be seen as an expert in the occult. She actually works to help victims/survivors of cults, is still a researcher for a paranormal investigation team, and is also hosts a podcast about horror movies, the paranormal and the occult.

► PERSONALITY (DEEP DIVE)

Nirvana is one of those people who can attract and attract and attract, but still feel alone underneath the surface. She loves knowledge and the pursuit of knowledge; If she could be a student her whole life, she would. This combination of coming across as approachable but also seeming highly intelligent, is very intimidating to most. Though, if one were to sit and speak with Nirvana, they would see she has a heart big enough to match her mind and is just an obscure nerd in her own right. She can be sarcastic and condescending if someone asks a question she deems as 'stupid'. She's known to bully as her type of flirting. She's actually not online, and prefers it that way. She's clever and witty and goes on passion-dump sprees pretty often about a new book she's reading, or about her research or podcast. She loves people who have a sense of humor. Nirvana is more introverted than extroverted and also has a busy schedule, so it may be hard to reach her at times and she's well aware of this. If she values someone, she makes sure she sets time aside for them. She's really a big mushy nerd guys, but she has so many phases and you never know what you're gonna get when you meet her. She's moon-coded, okay?

#boroughs.intro #tw religion

[oasislandingresident]

Goneril Capp and her Family - Round 1

I don't know what possessed me to play these guys as the second family but I was setting them up and here we are.

Yeah, I can't profess enough how much you're not having another kid, man.

Aww, Desdemona is playing with Ariel.

At this point in this house it is who wants to do what and who is free to do it. They are worse than the Broke's.

A family picture, I like taking with this family when I play

Albany and Goneril is not in love. They are barely friends but they still dressed up in their birthday suit for a chat. Because Goneril has so much business career related skill and she probably worked a while and the family should have more than just 20k in their account. I think Albany spent their money on something. He is vein but a good dad and my mind just immediately goes to either buying expensive clothes or having a gambling problem.

What I HC for them is Albany somehow lost their savings, they lost their house and haven't had much to live off on and because it was his fault they have a sour relationship now, at the start. Anyways, they didn't woohoo just chatted and then left.

Albany has found a job in education and him being a family sim I usually put him to that job. Business career didn't come up so Goneril is at home with Ariel. Look how happy she is!

Kid, why are you trying to play with the puddles outside?? You have every toy inside the house. Really do not like toddlers in this game.

Meanwhile Miranda wanted to get a job in either music or be a slacker and I see her as a music girl and not a slacker and she finally found one. This is her just helping out the kids. Goneril is exhausted, Albany is working and they all have crappy beds so... no one's getting enough rest.

Didn't have a place to put a tub inside the house and she refused to use the potty.

Aww look at that little devil poop herself right after her bath (the aww was sarcastic btw)

Somehow Miranda is doing very well in school and hold a career but she still has no luck in love. Her first kiss wish has been locked for ages and I can't invite Mercutio over because %100 there will be a fight with someone in the house.

So I took her out to check out the Veronaville community lots. They are complete duds xD

Then I added my Narwhal Arms Nightclub, ignore the blue flashing door there. It was okay but no luck with other teenagers so she went back home.

They needed fun and red hands is my go to in these poor situations.

This wasn't me, they kissed on their own. I guess they still have some feelings for each other.

Finally someone in the house had enough for smart milk!

Just place the kid right into the stairs

Goneril is so happy to have this many kids xD

We waited for a few days and there were no openings for business so she called her father and asked for his help. (I used hacked computer to get her the job xd) And she's off!

Nah, have dinner.

She was born for this.

I hear the grow up sounds and spot Ariel sparkling and realize I forgot her birthday and there she is and I hear the sounds again!

Then I look outside and see that Hal has grown up and the first sounds I heard was his xd Sorry I missed it, man

I roll and he got the Fortune Aspiration. A Capp through and through

This is the kids room btw. I had a bunk bed but it conflicts with the sleep in your bed mod so had to be this

Ariel's all grown up!

#sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #uberhood #Goneril Capp #Albany Capp #Miranda Capp #Desdemona Capp #Hal Capp #Ariel Capp #Veronaville

[ravynous]

i think, therefore i am。

▌|﹫ᅠcharacter/s ⦂ la signora ▌| ⌕ᅠ description ⦂ meet la signora, a soloist known for her powerful vocals and risqué concepts. ▌| #ᅠ warning/s ⦂ none ▌| ➛ᅠpinned comment ⦂ fanart, hyuna, hyolyn, sunmi, triple h, billie eilish, carmen by bizet; this is platonic ▌| ≡ ᅠlink/s ⦂ masterlist, more idol au! – inferno, dreamscapes

profile:

Former stage name: Carmen (from her former company, Celestia Labels)

Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter pursued higher education in Sumeru Academy and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in International Relations and Diplomacy. There, she met her current lover, Rostam, who took a BA in Political Science.

She was initially scouted by a company representative from Celestia Labels to become a model. The higher-ups had other plans, and made her debut as a solo artist, with the song “Ashen Heart” – narrating her experience of allowing her emotions to drive her actions, ultimately leading to bad decisions.

The company knew of her relationship with Rostam but forbade her from ever letting the public find out. The couple kept it under wraps, until a former friend and fellow idol – Venti of GNOS7IC – accidentally mentioned them on a live interview. This led to a fallout between the two. After weeks of media outlets attempting to get a statement from Celestia Labels and Rosalyne, it was announced that her contract would be terminated, and she promptly left.

She signed into a new company, Zapolyarny Entertainment, and re-debuted in a co-ed sub-unit with two other idols – a younger well-rounded trainee, Tartaglia; and a short feisty rapper, Scaramouche. Thus, Rosalyne received a new stage name, “La Signora”.

FATUI–MƎ’s discography revolves around three characters: the Marionette (Scaramouche), the Monarch (La Signora), and the Mercenary (Tartaglia). Their songs are fantasy-themed, but heavily implies social issues present in their society.

“The title of Marionette truly fits you, Scaramouche. Both of you are of small stature.”

“Shut up, Signora.”

Tartaglia later left the company but kept in touch with both of his former group members. Their group chat was named “Triple Threat”, courtesy of Tartaglia. Rosalyne is seen as the elder sister figure (Scaramouche had changed her nickname to “Bossy Hag”, while Signora changed his to “Temperamental Shrimp”), though she constantly orders them to fetch her food. Scaramouche is the rebellious younger brother; he still complies with Signora’s wishes while complaining. Tartaglia is the youngest, and used to plot elaborate pranks with Scaramouche’s manager, Il Dottore.

As of now, Rosalyne performs solo, occasionally featuring Scaramouche in her music videos.

Fandom name: Royals

la signora:

Manager? More like an indentured servant (/j). La Signora’s the only known idol who proudly went public with her relationship, after leaving Celestia Labels. This brings more trouble to the table – for you – because the press is constantly hounding you to let them interview Signora.

She values competence, orderliness, and critical thinking. Working under Signora is absolutely tiring, because she wants the best – for herself and for her fans. Your table is filled with invites to variety shows and product advertisements. Compiling information about each one takes most of your time, so her schedule ends up perfect.

Signora shows her gratitude in her own ways. Wads of cash on your birthday, meals after a particularly tiring week, and a fully paid car when you followed her to her new company.

You’ll hear constant orders, but never has she laid a hand on you nor insulted you. Once you become closer, expect teasing remarks about how haggard you look when you arrive at work.

“This world cannot be cleansed from filth that has built up throughout the generations. But I believe that you will remain by my side, to shed light on the rotten fools that rooted themselves in this industry.”

▌| ⚠︎ ᅠby RAVYNOUS — please do not copy, edit, screenshot, or repost any of my works. Likes and reblogs are appreciated.

#ꮺ ravy.writes #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #la signora x reader #signora x reader

[pixielove-1]

♡Break down♡

It's been a couple of years since you and Nancy have fought together in the battle against monsters and humans. You've know about her lost best friend that disappeared one night and was found again in the under world. Nancy had been strong during this battle and after seeing barb, she still stood high. I never expected to be the one that she crys to and would want to hold her hand through the night.

This all started a few weeks ago after I visited her place.

My hand rasp against the hard glass widow of the white door of the wheelers house. Suddenly the door swong open reviling a middle age woman who seemed like she hadn't been wooed in a couple of years. "Good evening Mrs weeler, I'm here to see nancy?" The woman smiled with sparkling eyes "Ofcourse she's up in her room, it's up the stairs next door to the bathroom." I nodded giving a quick thanks as she let me through.

The inside of the house was bright and beautiful. I appreciated the dark wooden stairs that lead up into the upper area of the house. There stood a couple of white wooden doors one nears me reading 'No girls allowed' I took an educated guess and would say that it was Mike's room nancys younger brother.

...

Once my hand hit the door it shot open. "Hey nance" I smiled as I looked into drowsy blue eyes. "Hey y/n, come in." Her voice was raspy and tired. I slid through the door as she closed and locked the golden bulb handle. And boy was I Suprised at how her room looked. Her white and blue bed held up with simple white metal rods that sood out next to her dresser with a case of jewelry and a ballerina that stood out from the rest. And a simple wooden desk with a computer placing it all together.

I opened the box listing to the Melody as the girl spins around in a crucle infront of the round mirror. "You have such a cute room nancy!" I babbled out remembering I wasn't exactly alone. The feeling of eyes burning me was unbearable as I looked back into the girls Dimond like eyes. "Thanks y/n" She let's out a sad sigh setting herself on the bed. I frowned at this.

"What's wrong wheeler?"

I placed the dancer down as I trotted over to her bed and sat next to the smaller Burnett. I placed a hand over to her lap softening my eyes upon her tired gaze, "this is about the upside isn't it?" The girl cracked underneath my hands and I pulled her closer "i-i I miss her, I was so stupid back then I-I should've left with her, she'd be with me today if I had just-"

I rubbed her back letting her sob into my shoulder "t-todays her birthday..." She cried out clenching onto my shirt "and I don't know what to do I just."

More broken tears fell "shh" I hushed as I kicked off my vans. "Look at me nancy" her sad blue eyes dazed into mine as our lips slowly attached. The music of the dancer tuned in as the passionate kiss ended "its not your fault, you hear me? Could you have known that she'd get taken?" Nancy shook her head "could you have know that she would've stayed anyway?" She shook her head again and shook her head once more as I spoke "then it's not your fault. It never was she'd want you to be happy to be wishing her a happy birthday and moving on with your day, and grow into a strong independent woman as you are now."

"So keep going wheeler"

More tears streamed down her eye as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Slowly we layed down on her bed closing our eyes as the room went black.

"Happy birthday barb"

I hear her whisper before our tired body's clashes together.

♡break down♡

Fin

#nancy wheeler #stranger things #gay #lesbain #bi

[inkofamethyst]

November 11, 2022

I actually did the worst on my open book popgen exam lol (not that it mattered anyway).  I’m in a good place grade-wise, I think.

You know, all of these programs conveniently leave out the fact that not only do you have to submit a personal statement, but you have to also write four, five, six other little essays on random (they’re related) topics.  Like,,, HUH.  I just thought I’d pop in with a quick “boy howdy I wanna be a scientist, a woman in stem, a personified bunsen burner” and then be met with a round of applause and a stipend but apparently that’s not enough these days.

Also some of my apps are asking about my sexuality and that was definitely not a thing four years ago and like idk I know some ace folk feel like they fit in the queer community and that’s totally fine and I love my little hahaheehee’s on acetok but putting it in writing (yes, I recognize the irony considering the nature of this blog)???  FIRST of all I don’t know if this is real or if it’s purity culture-induced guilt.  I could get married and it all falls away and suddenly you’ve got a sexual being on your hands (one in need of therapy tho bc I’ve heard it’s a difficult switch to make).  SECOND what if it changes.  I dunno I just.. there is no truly permanent sense of self and.. ugh.  I mean I could say I’m aro/ace and they’ll be like “wow so she won’t be distracted by boys she’s a safe bet” but what they don’t know is that I’ll be distracted by everything else.

On a lighter note, listen.  I get it, LMM maybe wasn’t at all what we were expecting from Hermes.  I love the jokes, I think they’re silly because, ultimately, that man is a dork.  A theatre kid (who makes pretty bangin music ngl).  All adult theatre kids deserve ridicule.  No exceptions.  Obviously I want him to do well because I want the show to be good and I trust Rick.  I love the silly jokes, but I feel a little bad bc we’re circling back to that time on tiktok when Hamilton had just been released on D+ and everyone was watching it and making fun of the guy even though he wasn’t doing anything except loving being on stage.

And, breaking news, it turns out that I may not get into that education class after all which kind of sucks.  I have to wait until the start of next semester to see if the section has seats available at which point anyone will be able to register.  Until then, I’m registered for a greek art class in its place.

Lastly, it’s surprisingly easy to slip into supporting eugenics and I blame this on the fact that geneticists find eugenics to be so abhorrent and such an uncomfortable part of the discipline’s history that it’s rarely actually discussed or taught.  And this is the same problem with minimizing slavery or the holocaust or the treatment of indigenous Americans.  Those who do not learn and critically consider history are doomed to repeat it.  Scientists have an ethical responsibility to go beyond providing data.  They must nip misinterpretations in the bud by addressing the context of their work.  We read an article (more like a saga of articles, it was the scientific equivalent of a fight over twitter) in popgen which got me completely wired by the way that it used eugenics rhetoric without addressing that issue explicitly, and that feels so much more irresponsible than saying your a eugenics advocate outright (my prof had to assure me that the author was not, in fact, a eugenics guy).  I just... science doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and we live in an age where information is readily available to any person at any time.  Scientists need to keep that in mind and consider the social ramifications of their work, especially if it relates to humans.  Neutral science does not exist!!  We’re all influenced by the context in which we are raised!!  Anyway, back to the original point, eugenics should be taught sensitively in science classes so that people understand a) how to detect the warning signs of a budding eugenics-based argument and b) why they’re wrong to begin with.  Only then can we civilly discuss issues like how to mitigate the problems of the (fairly theoretical to begin with) human genetic load or whatever.

Today I’m thankful for the walks promenades I took last night and tonight!!  It was decently warm and I just needed to blow off some steam (we’re a mere week into daylight savings and I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate how sunset starts at 2 pm I hate how I feel down more often now).  Plus CRC3E38 was released yesterday and I tore through that thing on my walks.  I’m thankful that there’s a big open area on campus where people often frequent so I feel safe walking at night.  I’m thankful that I, a patron of the arts, went to see an (free) a capella show tonight, a lovely and uniquely collegiate experience.  I’m thankful that my cello-friend liked my arrangement draft!!  Finally, I’m thankful that I know people who will straight up tell me who the red flags in my field of choice are because I was definitely unknowingly flying close to one.

[anonymousandtalentless]

On happiness 

I don't quite understand why I am so unhappy with myself. I can never pinpoint the root of it. It somehow feels like it changes with every situation. I don't know if I am unhappy simply because that is how I am as a person or that I have grown to find comfort in my sadness. She somehow feels like a weighted blanket putting me to sleep day in and day out. I don't know if it's these micro situations that I have been put in throughout my life. I guess I could say that I am mad, I am mad that I don't have a trauma, a main focus and an actual valuable reason for my dissatisfaction with myself. The way I see it, is that I have that younger sibling immigrant family syndrome. I'm a younger sibling but somehow feel like the older one. Since I have been here most of my life I have no excuse to not be great. I received my entire education, my entire life here, I am pretty much a local and I can't say that my hardship stems from a major shift early in my life. I have nobody and nothing to blame it on. I have myself, I have only myself to blame for all of it. I have been feeling this turmoil for so long I don't even know who inflicted it onto me anymore. Sometimes I think it was my family, other times I feel like it could be society and my social circle. But most of the time I think it actually is me. Why did I do it to myself, why was I so unsatisfied? I never witnessed the hardship my parents went through to get to where they are today. I only heard of those hard times, the immigrations, the languages, the communism, the religion, the forbidden love, the passionate yet toxic love. Maybe it is because I have never actually seen it that I anticipate it. The foundation they built seems so fragile and I don't know what is waiting for me at the bottom and so I expect the worst.

Maybe it's myself. Or maybe it's the leftovers of my premature child brain latching onto every insult I heard everyone say. I often say it was my father but in reality. In reality it was everyone. My sister agreed and supported, my mom doubted, my grandfather believed and followed, my grandmother questioned further for the sake of a good gossip and the rest simply did not care. Teachers constantly remind my parents that I have a hard time making friends, making my mother doubt me further. Constantly reminding me that I am alone, that I am unapproachable, that I am simply unwanted. Every relationship followed the same principle. Why didn't I make any friends? Why did I stay in during recess to draw stupid doodles? Why did I eat in the bathroom to listen to music? Why did I opt to get lost walking around the city instead of extending a hand to hang out with people my age? Why is it that I preferred sitting in silence at the adults table instead of playing tag?

I did this to myself. I removed everyone from my life out of fear. I removed everyone for the sake of remaining connected to myself as if the two are mutually exclusive. Actually the issue is not that I am alone. Alone feels like such a sad word. It looks sad, it feels sad and it's a word that has so much weight in my eyes. Alone. I am alone. I chose to be alone and yet I have this overwhelming fear when anyone reminds me that I am alone. In reality all I want is to not feel alone. I want someone and yet I am physically, emotionally, spiritually unable to be that someone for somebody else. Because being someone for somebody else means I have to reduce my own time. I can't do that. I could never do that. I am all I have. It's ridiculous that I believe that I won't have myself at some point. As if I could lose myself. In theory I could but I can find myself after right? My biggest fear is if I don't. I can't lose the most important person in my life. I can't lose her, I can't lose the shy little girl that struggled to say hello or "present". I can't lose the insecure little girl too self conscious of her round little baby belly. I can't this baby constantly scolded because she is not smart enough, she doesn't count fast enough, she doesn't multiply fast enough, she can't remember the spelling of the simplest words, the little girl that just wanted to sit in her room to play with her barbies and draw pretty girls that she could aspire to be. I can't lose the little preteen that couldn't run fast enough or had enough upper arm strength to do a serve. I can't lose the teen that is constantly told she is not proportional, that her body looks like the one of a little boy, the one whose hair won't grow, the one that only succeeds in art class. The poor thing that only wanted to be an architect to draw quietly at her desk without interruption. Constantly told she is selfish for wanting things that were only hers, things she didn't need to share, the teen that tried to understand herself before trying to understand the world. Why did they call me selfish and self centred. It feels like the more they said it the more I became it. Is it so bad that I want to focus on myself, take care or myself, since I am all I have? Is it that bad? Is it that unbearable? Does it make me unapproachable?

Regardless this wasn't even the point of this text.

[survey--s]

349.

So how are you today? Pretty good! Much better than I was yesterday, anyway.

Do you like to eat eggs? Nah, the texture makes me gag lol. Poached eggs are tolerable if there’s something else with them though.

When was the last time you had a cup of tea? I don’t remember - a while ago. I’m much more of a coffee person.

Do you have a tapestry in your bedroom? I do not.

Have you ever been to London? Yeah, I used to visit London a lot.

Do you enjoy going to the library? I used to love it but to be honest, I haven’t been there in ages.

If you went to NYC (or if you’ve been), what are your favorite things to do there? I’ve never been but I’d like to visit Brooklyn, Greenwich Village, Times Square, Central Park and Manhattan, plus I’d go and see a show on Broadway.

Who’s the most recent person on your Facebook feed? A local cake business that I follow.

When (if ever) was the last time you saw that person? She hand-delivered a cake to us just after the first lockdown, I think, so around summer 2020-ish, I believe.

Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Yeah, Carly used to have two. I used to pet-sit for them actually. They were pretty cute but also quite...non-responsive lol. Not my kind of pet though it was kinda fun to look after them.

Can you play the violin? No.

What’s the last movie you watched? Sleeping Beauty.

Did you enjoy this movie? Sure, I was re-watching a load of old Disney movies as I never re-watch the classics lol. 

What store or website would you most like a gift card for? TheLittleWaxBoxCo please and thank you. I’m just waiting for their autumn release before I buy anything new.

What’s something you’re looking forward to? My beach ride on Sunday! I reaaaaally hope we get good weather but I’m excited all the same as for the first time I’ll be cantering down that beach and I cannot bloody wait. I also know I’ll be on Joe which is really helpful as I love cantering on him. He’s SO comfy to sit on haha.

Name your top 3 favorite musical instruments. Acoustic guitar, piano, clarinet.

What was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? I bought a bunch of books on Monday actually - they were Girl in Red, The Mermaid and Near the Bone, all by Christina Henry.

Does the song you’re listening to/last heard evoke any emotion for you? I’m watching Below Deck at the moment.

Do you use Pinterest? No. I really don’t get it, tbh.

Are you wearing earrings? Yeah, I never change my jewellery.

Do you know any sign language? Nope.

Have you ever seen the musical Ragtime? I have not.

Do you have a favorite poem? The Road not Taken by Robert Frost, or The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.

Do you like Indian food? No, I can’t stomach spicy food without making myself physically sick.

Describe your favorite scarf, if you have one. I’m not really a massive fan of scarves. I love the look but I find them really claustrophobic and they make me all sweaty lol.

Do you have a dog? Yeah, a 4yo beagle called Archie.

Have you ever read the Little House on the Prairie series? Nope. I feel like it’s one of those series I keep meaning to read but I just never got round to it for some reason.

Do you have any homework? I haven’t been in education for well over a decade.

Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No, and honestly I find those things so cringey.

Do you need to do laundry? Nah, I did two loads this morning.

Do you enjoy going out for breakfast? I love going out for breakfast/brunch, yeah. Unfortunately there’s no decent place to go for breakfast around here, which sucks.

Have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Yeah, for school plays and such.

Do you like muffins? Sure, but they’re not really something I ever think about ordering for some reason.

When was the last time you went to church? Decades ago lol.

Have you ever heard the singer Audra McDonald? No.

What’s a quote you think is really powerful? “Moaning won’t fix anything. Get yourself up and save your own self, because nobody else is going to do it for you”

Should you be doing something else right now? Nope.

#survey #surveys

[carewyncromwell]

[Forsythia laughs loud at Eli´s sarcasm, her eyes shining with amusement.]

“It is too funny, when you talk about music and playing the piano, you almost sound like my brother. In a good way, bien sûr”

[She laughs again, trying to finish her statement.]

“But then you say something cheeky like that, something mon cher frère would have never dared to… so you can imagine that our conversations weren´t as entertaining as this one is.”

[She seems to have calmed down now, clearly enjoying herself in this situation.]

“I had not really been able to educate myself on the muggle world, at least not at school. The only thing I could get my hands on was a collection of Shakespeare’s plays, and I can tell you, they don´t help much, neither with learning contemporary English nor with navigating the muggle world.”

[She starts humming along with the music for a while, content in the comfortable silence.]

“Speaking of plays, has acting always been a dream of yours? Most people I know already had their entire life planned out back in Hogwarts…or was it more of a coincidence for you, maybe something you discovered later?”

[Eli smiles wryly.]

Eli: "Oh, acting's always been good fun. It's just a big game of playing pretend, isn't it?"

I never wanted those games to end, back then...

Eli: "I admit, music and dancing were my primary passions, when I was younger, but acting was always definitely up there too. It rounded out the triangle nicely."

[He realizes immediately afterward that this was a pretty dumb way to try to explain what he meant, but the actor pretty quickly decides it doesn't matter and has already long since moved on.]

Eli: "But no, it wasn't planned, really. Life's too crazy to plan too far ahead, from where I stand. I knew I wanted to be an entertainer, though: one that makes a living performing for other people -- that was for sure. There was actually a point when I was at Hogwarts I tried to coax my father to let me transfer to the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts instead, but he didn't approve, and old Grandma Fawcett stomped that idea dead before I could even try to convince him otherwise. I reckon she did such a thorough job that the idea paces around my old room as a ghost to this day."

[He laughs this off.]

Eli: "It's probably just as well, though. Reckon if I'd gone to the Academy, they would've had me reading Shakespeare too, and...well, I'm not exactly a high-brow elite theater type, and I'm really not much of a reader. The scripts I read for work are about all I have the patience for, a lot of the time, and those are sparse with directions -- 'turn around,' 'cross to this person,' 'fall flat on your arse,' that sort of thing."

((OOC: Eli has undiagnosed dyslexia. It makes it so that he reads very slowly as an adult and thus kind of avoids reading anything too dense whenever he can help it. I reckon he would really appreciate audiobooks, if he lived in the modern era, but since they really don't, he tends to be more entertained by film and radio.))

#eli fawcett #forsythia ferch helyg #roleplaying #ask eli #fantastic beasts and where to find them

[taleasnewastime]

Let’s get quizzical

Summary: Thursday night pub quizzes with your friends are a must. One of those friends being your long-term friend, long-term crush, Park Jimin. At this point 99.9% of the population knows you have feelings towards him, Jimin being the 0.1% that doesn’t. But what happens when a bet goes wrong and your weekly quizzes become more complicated than fun?

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: friends to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 28.6k

Warnings: Safe sex, oral (female receiving), ANGST, a lot of feelings, drinking, bad jokes, a lot of dodgy quiz questions.

Authors Note: This has taken me a hot minute to write, but I really enjoyed it and am really proud of it. The summary was almost impossible to write without giving everything away, so I apologise if it doesn’t do the story justice. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hoping you have the best day and sending you all the love :)

“Question 9: who is Chancelor Johnathan Bennett?”

“Chancellor of the exchequer?” Jin jumps in before the question has finished being asked.

“Chancelor is his name not job title,” you roll your eyes. “Could be a local MP though?”

“Bit niche for a pub quiz? And what MP is going to be called Chancelor?” Jimin chips in, eyes on you.

“You’d be surprised what some of those wanker, Eaton educated, Conservatives are called,” Jin says and immediately holds up his hands in defence, though no one scolds him.

“We must have a better answer than local MP,” Connie sighs, ever the sensible one.

“It’s Chance the Rapper,” Yoongi says before taking a sip of his beer, having already scribbled the answer down.

“See I told you Yoongi would be good,” Jin pats Yoongi on that back, which only causes the scowl on Yoongis face to deepen.

“Chancelor, chance the rapper, I guess it works. Not as clever as Flo Rida, like Florida,” you say and watch as a look washes over Connies face. “Don’t say you’ve only just realised. Next you’ll tell me you thought Elton John was his actual name.”

She tries to keeps her face neutral but you can tell that she also had no idea about that. You just roll your eyes with a small laugh.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve to be on the team, it’s obviously Connie,” Yoongi pipes up.

“Hey,” she narrows her eyes at Yoongi and he lifts an eyebrow at her, a small smile on his lips.

“And finally, question 10 - the last in the music round, and the final question tonight,” you all quieten when the quiz host starts to speak again. “What do ABBA, Spice Girls, Queen and Take That, all have in common? Clue, Take That have done it twice. We’ll have a break before doing the answers, feel free to get refreshments while you wait.”

There is a post question buzz in the pub, frantic whispers as the teams debate the answer they want to give.

“Everyone thinks they have a the in front of their names but they don’t.” Again Jin is quick to jump in with his suggestion.

“Have they all disbanded and come back together?” You ignore Jin completely.

“I think Take That have done that more than twice,” Jimin says. “What about, they were all wrongly given awards?”

“Did the Spice Girls ever get any awards?”

“If they did, it was surely a mistake,” Jimin smirks at you. “Come on then Yoongi, master of music, put us out of our misery.”

“Queen, Spice Girls and Take That aren’t really my bag,” he shrugs.

“I like that ABBA is,” you smile.

Yoongi gives a non-comital shrug and mumbles “Dancing Queen is a bop” into his beer.

“Still want to stand by your earlier statement?” Jimin mocks Jin while Yoongi shoots him an irritated look.

“I reckon we just go with a member left the band but the band carried on without them,” Connie steers the conversation back to the question. “I mean Take That have had more members leave and then re-join than people in the EastEnders cast, but we’ve got nothing better.”

“Obscure reference,” Yoongi mumbles but scribbles down the answer anyway.

“Right as that’s over, another drink?” Jimin stands up and looks expectedly around the table. You all give a nod in agreement and he’s off to join the small crowd gathering at the bar.

“I miss Joon. He is the structure of this team. The backbone. He would have known the answer to that bumble bees question in an instant. We should ban him from missing in the future,” Jin whines.

“He’s at his grandmas 80th birthday,” you laugh.

“This is more important. We could have won tonight if he was here.”

“We never win, even with him here. Anyway, I thought the team name Kim Seokjin was supposed to be the thing that brought us luck.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, just follow them,” he gives you a wide toothy smile that you admit makes him look handsome, though you’d never say it to him. “So how much we betting Jimin takes that bartender home tonight?” He gives a nod to the bar.

You wish your heart doesn’t drop the way it does at the words, wish your eyes don’t automatically shoot to the bar where Jimin stands, wish the ball in your throat doesn’t form when you see his relaxed lean on the bar and the girls head lolling back in a laugh at something he said. But all of these things happen without much thought.

“I’ll give you 50p,” your voice comes out thick, your humour forced and you hope no one at the table notices. “At this point isn’t it a given?”

Jin hums, eyes watching Jimin who is still easily chatting to the girl behind the bar.

“Is she new? Don’t think I’ve seen her before?”

“Why? Jealous Jimin got there first?” You ask.

“Just thinking of poor Becky. He is certainly running a one in one out system here.”

Becky was one of Jimins previous hook ups, as someone that worked most quiz nights at the pub, it was a sore topic with you. Having to witness the flirting and eventual weeks of familiarity between her and Jimin was tough. It was no secret that Jimin was a hit with pretty much everyone, and being a young and single male, he took full advantage of the attention. It was just hard to harbour a massive crush on the man and then watch his many endeavours, you not being one of them. You were friends, good friends, in a strong friendship group, you could see why he would never look at you twice. That, and compared to all the other woman he seemed to go out with, you were like a rusty 1 pence piece, while they were shiny, brand new pound coins.

You are pretty sure that 99.9% of the population knows about your crush on Jimin, that unknowing 0.1%, mercifully being Jimin. And even though you are sure everyone sat around the table with you knows about your feelings, you are glad that they at least pretended to not know. It was an unspoken fact. Something that was known but skirted around, jokes were still made about Jimin, but never so deeply that it affected you.

“I thought Becky ended it with Jimin?” Yoongi asks.

“Oh Yoongi, you have a lot of quiz history to learn,” Jin shakes his head in mock despair.

Yoongi was Jins flat mate, and though he has been friends with you all for as long as he’s lived with Jin, this was his first week joining you at the quiz. Jin had promised he had as much useful, useless quiz knowledge as Namjoon and would be a good asset to the team. Everyone really knew that Jin had been trying to convince Yoongi to join you guys at the quiz for years and Yoongi has only now caved. What Jin had to sell, bribe, sacrifice, or promise to get that to happen, you doubt you will ever find out.

“Becky only ended it with Jimin because she saw a text on his phone from an Alex asking to meet up,” Jin continues. “It was quite the spectacle. Lots of shouting, a bit of pushing, a few spilt drinks, and that was just from me trying to get a better view of the argument,” Jin lets out a squeaky laugh that no one joins him in.

“Becky broke it up with Jimin because she thought he was going behind her back with someone else. Jimin denied it, but Becky didn’t believe him. Turns out he was telling the truth; Alex is not only someone Jimin works with but is also a bloke,” Connie gets straight to the point, cutting off Jins long winded story. “Seems Becky changed her shifts around to not work on quiz nights.”

“Right,” Yoongi finishes off his drink in one last gulp, looking as if he wished he’d never asked in the first place.

“So come on then, bets in, how long until this new girl is just another notch on Jimins every growing belt,” Jin claps his hands together.

You frown at him. “Is this not a bit disrespectful to both this girl and Jimin.”

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Jin pouts.

“Well I gave my 50p bet. Like I said, it’s pretty much a sure thing at this point,” you say, your heart panging at the words.

“Sure. What number female bartender will this be now? I think he may be going for a world record attempt at this point. He’ll have to start seducing the men next. Watch out Brad,” Jin nods to the bar manager, a man in his 50s with a bald head and beer belly. The comment at least gets a smirk from Yoongi, who covers this fact with a cough and hand to his lips.

“I agree with Y/N, this seems unfair to the girl. Not everyone is as easily seduced by Jimins good looks, take me and Y/N for example,” Connie says, and when Jin opens his mouth to return a comment, presumably about how you are not immune to Jimins good looks and Connie is in a long and committed relationship, she carries on before he can speak. “But, I will be placing a bet. I’ll pay for a round of drinks for everyone, but I don’t think he’ll actually take her home with him till next week.”

“Finally, an actual bet. Thank you Connie,” Jin shoots you a look. “I will accept that bet and raise you a drink and a packet of crisps, that he takes her home tonight.”

“A packet each, or just one to share,” you ask.

“What do you take me for?” A hand goes to Jins chest as if he’s been blown a fatal hit. “Of course a packet each. I’ll even let you pick what flavour you want, though it won’t come to that as it is clear that he will be taking her home tonight.”

Another glance to the bar sees that although there has been a bit of movement, it is only so that the two can stand closer to the pumps. The girl is making light work of pouring drinks out while still laughing at whatever Jimin is saying. It makes your blood run hot in anger or more likely jealousy.

“Fine, I’ll up my 50p bet. Though it was going to be a rare peter rabbit one that could have fetched you thousands,” Jin looks unimpressed by your attempt to act like you were in on this whole thing from the start. “I’ll raise your drink and a packet of crisps and throw in a sours shot. I think he’ll only get her number tonight, but they’ll text and he’ll just happen to stumble upon her on a night out and that is when they’ll hook up.”

Jin hums at your proposal. “I like it Y/N. But, only if it’s apple sours.”

“Cherry or nothing,” you say with a straight face.

“Deal,” he replies with a nod of his head, Connie nodding along on the other side of the table. “And Yoongi, what’s your offer?”

All heads turn to the man who seems to have been paying little attention to what anybody's been saying. It surprises you when he talks.

“Yeah, sure, I’m in.”

“The point is to say what you’re betting.”

“I’ll match Y/N. But I don’t think he’s ever going to sleep with her,” his statement shocks all of you. “Or kiss her for that matter. I guess I wouldn’t rule out him taking her number, but I don’t think he’ll do it for any other reason than he doesn’t want to be rude when she offers it.”

You all sit in silence a beat digesting his words.

“Do you have some sort of inside information that we aren’t privy to?” Jin is the first to speak.

“Not that I know,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Then I will accept your generous offer Yoongi. And I cannot wait to accept all of your payments next week,” Jin beams at you all, giving Yoongi another pat on the back that causes a look to pass over his face that makes you worry for Jins safety.

“What we talking about?” A tray is placed down on the table before Jimin takes his seat.

“Jin was just giving his usual spiel about missing Joon,” you roll your eyes. “One of these days he will tell us he finally confessed his feelings.”

You look at Jin to see a playful smirk on his lips, an eyebrow raised in question and you realise how your words reflect perfectly on your own situation with Jimin. You flush with embarrassment.

“He’s a beautiful man with a beautiful mind,” Jin says casually while grabbing his fresh drink.

“Just a shame that he has a lovely long-term girlfriend,” Jimin gives a wide smile, passing you your drink. Your fingers brush against his and your heart summersaults. You wonder if Jimin will ever not affect you.

“Speaking of long-term girlfriends, who’s the new blonde barmaid?”

Jin slips it in so casually that you are caught unawares. Your face heats again and you decide to focus on your beer instead of anyone's face. You don’t want to see Jin trying to catch your eye when Jimin speaks about the girl, you don’t want to see Connies concerned looks. But most of all you don’t want to see the way Jimin will brighten as he speaks about her. He’s known her for less than 10 minutes yet you can picture the wide smile on his face, the glint in his eye, as he speaks about someone new that he’s found a spark with. You’ve witnessed it a hundred times and you don’t want to witness any more. Your beer is far more interesting than any of that. Unfortunately, your ears couldn’t vacate the story so easily.

“Ah, Izzy?” Jimin starts and you hear an interested hum from Jin. “She seemed nice. I was just asking her if she was enjoying working here.”

“It looked like a very enthralling conversation,” Jin continues to dig. You knew he wasn’t doing it out of spite, he found it funny to hear about Jimin and his many girls, it was just something your group did. Plus, there was the whole bet, you knew that he would try and encourage Jimin if it came down to it, all in the name of winning.

“Well I’m a very dazzling person, it’s hard not to laugh with me,” you can picture the almost arrogant smile on his face. Another reason you loved Jimin was his knowledge of his self-worth. It could come across that he was full of himself sometimes, but you always admired it, he just knew who he was and he loved himself. Confidence was sexy in your eyes.

“Laugh at you more like,” Jin mumbles loud enough for the table to hear.

“Answer time,” the announcer cuts through your conversation. “If you could all swap your sheets with another table I will start reading out the answers and then we will announce the winners.”

There’s some talking and rustling around the pub as tables try and get another teams answer sheet.

“I’ll take ours over there on my way to the toilet,” you stand up and reach for your answer sheet not waiting for any form of agreement from your team.

You catch Jimins eyes as you turn to leave, a concerned look in his eye, the wide smile you love no longer on his face. You wish you could stay and decipher what the look means, but you turn and continue on your journey to the toilet. Mentally filing the look under things to over analyse when alone.

Exchanging your quiz sheets with another team you head into the empty toilets. You need 5 minutes on your own, maybe a splash of cold water on your face to bring you back to reality.

You loved your quiz nights, loved the friendly banter you all shared, loved getting a little tipsy on a Thursday night knowing you still had work the next day that you had to get through. But it was always tough seeing Jimin so openly flirt with any girl that had a pulse, yet treat you as if you were Jin or Yoongi, a friend who was more like a sibling. There was one time that someone assumed the two of you were a couple and the look of disgust that fell over his face nearly broke your heart. It was made that little bit worse when he occasionally turned his charms on Connie, yet never seemed to do that to you. What was ok about her that wasn’t about you?

You’d been friends with Jimin longer than you had had a crush on him. You’d gone to the same school, though you only hold vague memories of him there, the two of you not actually friends per se. If someone was to mention his name you’d have been able to point him out of a line up, maybe recall a few funny stories, but that was it.

You’d gone to separate universities, though you stayed friends with a lot of school friends so heard stories of things he got up to. You would always listen with a mild interest, you enjoyed hearing what people were up to, how the people you went to school with were succeeding in life. But again, he was never someone you would describe as a friend.

After university you moved back to your home town, Jimin and a few others from you school doing the same. And that’s when your friendship started. All back in the same place, you found you started getting invited to parties and gatherings that Jimin also went to. A group of you formed, and you found yourself growing closer to Jimin.

You always found him good looking, he was one of those boys in school that every girl lusted after, that would be a hot topic of discussion at sleepovers. But you weren’t someone that held crushes on people just because of their looks. And then you got to know Jimin and realised that it wasn’t just his looks that made him attractive, if anything they were just an added benefit. You could finally see why everyone was so infatuated by him, because you yourself were heading that way.

He was happy and kind and generous and put everyone else before himself. He was confident and chatty and always had a funny story to tell. He was the person that people turned to in the search for a good time. But then he also knew how to chill and watch a film and order an unhealthy takeaway. He seemed like the whole package, because he was.

If anything the only thing that put you off Jimin was his lack of commitment. You knew that he had had a semi-serious girlfriend during university, but even that had lasted all of 6 months. He went through girls like they were chocolate bars and he just wanted to try them all.

But stood staring at yourself in the mirror was not helping the situation in any way. Especially when the man was on the other side of the brick wall, probably thinking about how he was going to take a pretty bartender home. You’ve lived with your crush this long, tried to push it down into the depths of your soul, you could learn to do that a bit longer.

You wash your hands under cold water, hoping it will help calm you down as well as waste a bit more time.

Ultimately you just didn’t want to ruin your friendship. The classic I’d rather be his friend than nothing at all. Plus, it wasn’t just you and Jimin’s relationship at stake, what about Jin and Yoongi and Connie and everyone else that were both your friend and Jimins friend? You would hate to think that they would have to choose sides if anything went wrong. Sure, there’s the whole, you could end on good terms and still be friends, but really how often did that happen?

Even if by some miracle Jimin did suddenly want to jump your bones, you weren’t even sure what you would do. I mean sex was great and all, but that’s not what you wanted from Jimin. Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more than just sex. Yet, Jimins reputation proved that he wanted anything but a relationship outside of sex.

You slap some of the cold water from your hands on your face. None of this even mattered because it was never going to happen.

Leaving the toilets you head back to the table. The answers are nearly finished by the time you take your seat. Jimin immediately looks at you, the concerned look from earlier still on his face. You give him a small smile that you are sure does anything to reassure whatever he is worried about.

“You’ve missed some absolute corker's Y/N,” Jin speaks up when he notices you in your seat. “Who the hell knew that Georg Solti won the most Grammys ever? Who the hell even knows who Georg Solti is? Not us. Safe to say, we’re bombing it.”

You laugh rolling your eyes.

“And finally, I asked what do ABBA, Spice Girls, Queen and Take That, all have in common? Of course, it’s that they have all had musicals made from their music.”

There’s a few groans as people hear the answer, a rippling of cheers from the ones who gave the right answer.

“Jesus, Take That have two musicals? What’s the world coming to?” Jin shakes in disbelief.

“I think the awards answer was better,” you give Jimin a smile and are rewarded with one of his full beams.

“Right that’s it folks, if you can return your answer sheets then we will announce the winner.”

More rustling as teams exchange their answer sheets, yours is given to Yoongi whose eyes flick over the page that’s been handed to him.

“Well, 35 out of 50 isn’t terrible.”

“May as well head home now,” Connie replies.

“Are we not staying for another?” Jimin lifts up his still half full pint.

Jin raises his eyebrows at you with a knowing smirk. You try to return it, but struggle. He has his bet in mind and the idea makes your stomach turn.

“I’ll stay for another,” Jin agrees and the Connie and Yoongi agree too, Jin being their lift home.

“Y/N?” Jimin looks at you expectantly.

“Sure,” you shrug. You normally stay a bit after the quiz anyway as your house is only a short walk from the pub, and really you had no excuse even if you wanted to go home.

You all settle in for another hour of drinking, Yoongi offering to get the next round. The bartender becomes forgotten at some point, Jimin makes no effort to go and talk to her again and no one brings up the fact. You all easily talk and laugh and you just fall into the easiness of your small friendship group.

You say your goodbyes at the door, Yoongi, Jin and Connie going in one direction and you and Jimin heading in the other. It was only a 10 minute walk to your house but every week Jimin insisted on walking you home. It was only a small detour for him, and the one week you had told him you’d be fine on your own had caused him to give you such a big lecture on walking home alone that you never brought it up again.

That’s why your bet was that if Jimin ever slept with Izzy, it wouldn’t be after a quiz night. Unless you weren’t there. Because you knew he would always walk you home, and you doubt he would bring his hook up for the night on the journey.

It’s only when you say goodnight to him and watch him walk under the street lights down your road that you fully remember the bet and that he left the pub alone, with seemingly no number. Opening up your group chat with Jin and Connie you add Yoongi as a member.

Y/N: I believe you owe us drinks next week.

Connie: Don’t forget the packet of crisps. I will be having mini cheddars.

Y/N: Mini cheddars is a poor choice, but thanks for the reminder.

Yoongi: Do we also get to pick the drink?

Yoongi: I’ll have their top shelf whisky.

Y/N: Do pretzels count as crisps? I’ll have a packet of those.

Jin: I’ll take orders at the quiz next week.

Y/N: Someone’s grumpy they lost.

Yoongi: He’s currently star-fishing on the living room floor staring into the abyss that is the ceiling.

Connie: I can almost hear the dramatic huffing from here.

Jin: I wish I never invited you to the quiz.

Jin: I can’t wait to accept the other losers' payments.

Yoongi: Well I can’t wait to win.

You wake up to your alarm blaring on your night stand. Blindly you pat around for it in an attempt to silence it. Once the noise finally stops you let out a groan and roll over in your bed. You wish you could lie there all day, let the covers surround you and just sleep. But you have work and the dehydration from drinking was bad enough that you feel the need to get up in search of water.

Every Friday you have this problem, the quiz is great and all, but a Thursday night? Every Friday you promise yourself that next week you will only have one alcoholic drink and call it a night. And every Thursday that follows that statement, you break it.

Your job was easy enough that you could blindly sit at your desk and rifle through the few tasks you were given and not raise too many eyes. A mere 8 hours was all you had to get through to make it to the weekend.

Dragging yourself out of bed you get ready for work, downing a pint of water in the process. By the time you walk out your door you feel slightly more human though still stop for coffee on your commute. Two shots of expresso and a toasted tea cake was only going to help this situation, right?

Your office was only small, a grand total of five people sharing the space that held a small kettle and microwave in one corner that’s described as a kitchen. It was both a blessing and a hinderance. It was nice to know everyone, to be able to talk openly about work and any troubles you had, but it was also annoying that everyone knew everything about everyone. There seemed to be no privacy, no conversation unheard in the space, office gossip became that much juicier when you actually know who Julie from accounting was and can’t talk about the affair her husband is having while stood at the printer because she is sat only 5 meters away, crying her eyes out.

“You look like hell.” Are the first words you hear when you collapse into your seat. Another reason it’s not great working in such a small office, people seem to think that they are closer to you when there are only 4 other people to talk to at work. It seems some sort of barrier disappears where people feel like they can say anything to you.

“Ignore Jon, I think you look nice,” Steph jumps in, coming to stand by your desk.

“Thanks Steph.”

“Did you finally win last night then?”

“We weren’t bottom, so that’s an improvement,” you smile at her. “Though that’s not saying much when the only people below us look like their combined ages wouldn’t add up to make them legally old enough to buy a drink. I think the question about John Prescot went right over their heads.”

“Ah, the youth,” Steph does a mock wistful look into the distance. Steph wasn’t much older than you, but she seemed a lot older purely due to her having a husband and two children. You were at different stages in life, but working together had caused you to bond over shared interests. “And how was Seagull?”

Working in such a small office and everyone listening to your conversations had caused you both to come up with a secret code when talking about particular topics. Seagull was Jimin, so called because of you recounting a story about a time when a seagull pooed on him when Steph realised you liked him as more than just a friend. Even with 99.9% of the population knowing about your crush you had sworn her to secrecy and she came up with the idea of the code name; you never know what ears are listening and even though no one knows Jimin, you worried it would somehow get back to him. You couldn’t risk anything. Steph was the only person you openly spoke to about your feelings towards the man.

“Ah, Seagull,” you sigh. “There’s a new bartender than Jin is convinced he’s going to hook up with.” You try to ignore the pang your heart gives when saying the words.

“And he can deduce that after one meeting?”

“You don’t know Jin,” you roll your eyes. “Or seagull for that matter.”

“True. I only know what you tell me, but I’d have a bit more faith in him if I was you.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. It’s his life, he’s free to do whatever or whoever he wants.”

“Just so long as it’s not in front of you?”

You scrunch up your face in displeasure. “Preferably, but I don’t think I have that sort of honour.”

“I’m still team tell him,” Steph replies. “It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or anything, just put it down on the table and if he decides not to pick it up then that’s that. You’ll know, he’ll know, you can move on and thing’s don’t have to be weird.”

You hum. This was something that Steph always petitioned for you to do. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t see the logic. You had actually come close to taking the advice once, talked yourself up enough to have the courage and then just as you were about to say the words to him you chickened out.

“Maybe,” you give a non-comitial answer.

“I think you’re forgetting that there is also a chance that maybe he feels the same way about you.”

“If that were true then why has nothing ever happened?”

“Maybe he’s just as scared as you. Maybe you need to be the brave one in this situation.”

“Fine, next time I get the chance, I’ll say something,” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, especially when you see the way Steph's face lights up.

It was a heavy chat for a Friday morning, especially when you felt a bit fragile. Your boss Betty walked into the office at that point too, so Steph gives a final sentence that is vaguely related to work to make it seem you weren’t just chatting about personal issues and then she is off.

The whole day her words ring in your head. What if she was right? What if you needed to be the one to step forward and make the first move?

But then when you think of Jimin and his confidence and the easy way he talks to woman, it seems impossible he wouldn’t be able to talk to you about his feelings. It was Jimin for Christ’s sake. It seemed impossible to imagine him feeling insecure or nervous about anything.

You couldn’t deny that she had a point, that even if it wasn’t about confidence or the fact that Jimin may or may not like you in the same way you like him, you should tell him. And you’ve already admitted that the whole world knows about you're not so little crush on the man, so how hard could it be to tell one more person? The least you could do was think on it. And maybe if the opportunity presented itself, you could tell him.

“Question eight.”

It was the next week of the pub quiz and you are already 3 pints deep, the bag of pretzels Jin had bought you not doing much to soak up the alcohol. You are feeling happy, erring on the side of tipsy, but a long way off drunk.

“Alfred Pennyworth is the butler to which superhero? Alfred Pennyworth is the butler to which superhero?”

“Pennyworth? Is that really his surname?” You ask.

“What’s wrong with Pennyworth?” Jimin shoots back defensively, while Yoongi scribbles down the answer with no help. It was turning into a one-man team.

“Isn’t that the name of that freaky clown?”

“That’s Pennywise,” Jimin laughs, light dancing in his eyes.

“Y/N has a point, they’re a bit too similar for my liking. Plus, doesn’t Alfred have access to the bat cave which must be underground, just like Pennywise’s lair,” Jin jumps in.

“See,” you point at Jin while you look at Jimin who’s face holds a fond smile.

“Alfred is just a nice old man, leave him alone,” Jimin laughs.

“Nice old man my ass,” you try to say it in a serious voice but end up laughing at the end.

“Question nine,” the quiz host’s voice booms through the chatter and it causes a rippling effect, the whole room going silent waiting for the question. “What is Zoolander's first name?”

“Zoo,” Jin jumps in.

“Zoo Zoolander?” Yoongi scrunches up his face looking displeased.

“Oh my god, I know this,” Connie excitedly taps her hands on the table, her bum jumping up and down on her seat. You all look at her waiting for her answer. “It’s Michael.”

There’s a pause while you all take in her answer and then Jimin breaks it by laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he says while trying to calm down. “It’s a good answer really.”

“What?” Connies face no longer holds excitement, instead her mouth is pouted as she looks around the table at you all.

“His name’s Derek,” Yoongi says softly before writing the answer.

Connie sighs a little oh, but doesn’t look overly embarrassed by her wrong answer.

“And last question of the round, and the quiz tonight,” the familiar voice shouts out, gaining silence once again. “What is the main pub called in Peaky Blinders where the Shelby’s meet? Again, we will have a short break before doing the answers and then announcing the winners.”

“Jesus Christ, how is anybody supposed to know this stuff,” Jimin shakes his head.

“Isn’t it the Winchester?” You suggest.

“That’s Shaun of the Dead,” Jimin instantly corrects you.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not also where the Shelby’s meet,” you throw back, gaining a Jimin smile that makes your heart flutter.

“I reckon the Crown,” Jin cuts across whatever look you and Jimin were sharing, drawing your attention to him.

“But that’s this pub?” Connie says.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not also where the Shelby’s meet,” Jin throws back your words and then casts you a cheeky smile that you only roll your eyes at.

“Yoongi? What you got?” Jimin asks.

“Peaky blinders isn’t really my thing,” he shrugs.

“He finds it too scary. All that shooting and all those nasty men,” Jin gives a fake shudder. “No, Yoongi much prefers the Teletubbies. Much more his intellect.”

Jin lets out a squeaky laugh at his own joke, while Yoongi casts him a look that, again, makes you fear for Jin’s safety. You wonder how they have managed to live together for so long.

“Let’s just go with the Chase or the Fox, some generic pub name that could be right,” you steer the conversation back to the question.

Yoongi scribbles some answer down and then slaps the pen on the table as if to signify you’re done.

“Right, my round?” Connie stands up and doesn’t even wait for confirmation before heading to the bar.

“Do you guys ever think we drink too much at the quiz? It is a Thursday night after all,” you think back to waking up dehydrated last week and struggling through the work day the next day.

“Don’t say you’re going soft on us now Y/N,” Jimin says.

“It’s a sign of getting old I’m afraid,” Jin chips in. “How old are you now Y/N?”

“My age is none of your concern,” you narrow your eyes at him. “I was merely saying, why is it only on a Thursday night we drink so much?”

“Is this an invitation for a night out?” Jimins says, sitting straighter in his chair.

“I’m busy,” Yoongi says.

“She hasn’t even given a date,” Jimin replies.

“Yes, but me and Yoongi are very busy people,” Jin says.

“You? Busy?” You laugh.

“Don’t act so surprised, I am a very popular man I’ll have you know.”

“Name one person you’re friends with.”

“Yoongi.” He says immediately after your question, crossing his arms defensively.

“Someone that isn’t sat at this table.”

“Connie,” he says just as quickly and you roll your eyes.

“Someone not in this pub,” you try again.

“Joon,” he gives you a knowing smirk, almost as bait for you to keep going.

“Fine,” you sigh, giving up. “I don’t even know why I’m trying.”

“Well, I’m not busy. When are we going?” Jimin says.

“Oh,” your attention is torn away from Jin to look at Jimin. “I didn’t actually – I was just saying – I more meant that a – I wasn’t actually asking for a night out,” you stumble over your words as you look at Jimins expecting face.

“You two should go, don’t let us stop you,” Jin says and when you turn back to him he has a smile on his face that shows there’s an alternative motive. You shoot him a look that you hope tells him to shut up.

“I wouldn’t want to go on a night out with just Jimin. I’d be abandoned as soon as we walked into the club for some tall skinny blonde.”

As soon as you say the words you know you’ve been way too harsh. Looking at Jimins face you can see he’s hurt. The words may ring true to a certain extent, but you also saw the lie, Jimin would never just leave you on your own. Sure, if you were with other people maybe he’d go off with others, but never if it was just the two of you. He still walks you home after the pub quiz to make sure you get home safe on a 10 minute walk for Christ's sake, he would never abandon you in a club.

Your eyes widen in shock at your own words and at the fact you’ve hurt Jimins feelings. It may be an insecurity you had, that he would never choose you romantically over literally anyone else, but you didn’t want him knowing that. Guilt flows through you and you open your mouth to take back the statement but Jimin beats you.

“I would never leave you alone if I was going out with you,” his words mirror your thoughts, a small crease appears on his forehead as he looks at you.

“I know, I just -”

“No one would ever make me want to not spend the night with you. I’d love to go on a night out with you, and it would be a night out with you, Y/N, not some dumb tall skinny blonde.”

You nod your head, heat coursing through you at the words, wishing they meant more than just you were friends, wanting to believe he wouldn’t say the exact same words to Jin or Yoongi or Connie, but knowing he would. You open your mouth to speak again, to try and reassure him that you didn’t mean what you said, but again you’re interrupted, this time by Connie placing a tray of drinks on the table.

“I think I got there at the perfect time,” Connie hands out the drinks, oblivious to the slight tension around the table. “I also think it helped that Izzy is working tonight. I think she recognised me as being on your team so served me quicker. Hoping I’d put in a good word I bet,” she nudges Jimins arm when she’s sat down.

“Right,” Jimin mumbles in to his beer as a reply.

You see Jin shoot Yoongi a look, raising his eyebrows in question. Connie’s statement also brings back the bet you all had. Of course, Connie had said she thought Jimin would take Izzy home tonight. The thought and how Jimin reacted to your harsh words has your heart sinking. You down the rest of your old drink and pick up the new one Connie brought over as the quiz host takes his stand at the front of the room.

“Answer time,” he shouts, stopping conversations in their tracks.

He runs through the answers and you give little attention to what he’s saying, sipping your beer instead. Jimin seems to be over your comment already, laughing at something Jin said, but you can’t help but threat over it. No matter what your feelings were towards Jimin, you knew he would never just leave you for someone he didn’t know. Hell, that’s why you had bet that if he was going to get with Izzy it would be after meeting up outside of the pub. You doubt he would leave the pub with her because he always walked you home, he wouldn’t not do that. And you doubt he would bring Izzy to your door before then going onto his, that would definitely cramp his style.

Jimin cared for you, he cared for all his friends, and you hate to think that you implied you didn’t know that.

“You know I think we’re doing alright this week,” you’re brought back at Jin words, your beer almost finished at this point. “Who needs Joon?”

“What was his excuse this week?” Connie asks.

“His girlfriend’s down for the week,” Jin shakes his head as if shamed by the information.

There’s a collective eye roll around the table at Jins lack of care for Namjoons private life.

“And finally, I asked what the pub is called in Peaky Blinders. Of course, it’s The Garrison Tavern.”

“Knew it,” Jin mutters under his breath, loud enough for the table to hear.

“Convenient you didn’t say earlier,” you shoot at him

“Right, if you could tally up the scores and give your papers back to the correct team,” the host speaks over Jins reply.

Yoongi grabs your answer sheet. “Up from last week, but I doubt enough to score that winning prize. Finally broke 40 though, just, we got 41.”

“Commisery pint?” Jimin asks.

“Ah, I can’t, got a big meeting in the morning. Gotta be fresh for it,” Jin says.

“He’s my lift,” Yoongi shrugs.

“And mine,” Connie chips in.

All eyes fall on you awaiting a response. Jimin looks hopeful, but after your earlier comment you can almost see that he expects you to decline.

“I can have another,” you say and watch as eyebrows raise around the table like dominoes. “Or we could have one at mine?” You shrug as if it’s no big deal, but your heart pounds in your chest. “Would be cheaper.”

If possible, the eyebrows raise even higher, Connies disappearing behind her full fringe, Jins mouth popping open. It makes you more nervous, but you remind yourself that it should be normal, you and Jimin hang out just the two of you all the time. He lives close to you, works just around the corner, you occasionally have lunch together, have had takeaways just the two of you. It shouldn’t be weird or out of the ordinary, yet it feels it.

“Great idea, let’s do that,” Jimin claps his hands together and it’s as if he breaks a spell, the faces around the table dropping back into their earlier, non-shocked expressions.

You all diligently finish off your drinks while the quiz host announces the winner by counting down from 50, “who has 49?”, with 41 you know you don’t stand a chance so there’s no point in hanging around. At the door you all give your usual goodbyes, shouts of “text us when you’re home”, and then you’re walking down the street.

It’s strange how it’s a weekly occurrence, Jimin and you walking side by side with the destination being your home, yet tonight it feels so different. Probably because you know he is going to walk through the front door with you and not just carry on walking. You feel instantly sober at the thought, not that you were particularly drunk before, but now your thoughts feel so much clearer. Did you remember to put your washing away? Were those dirty dishes still in the sink? You’d offered him a drink but you had no beers in, only spirits with barely any mixers, should you mention that now or would it look like you were backing out? What about that dying plant you had in the corner, you meant to dispose of it weeks ago but had just left it to continue withering in the corner, was he going to judge you for it, should you try and get rid of it now before he saw it?

“It’s been a while since I came into your house,” Jimin drags you out of your thoughts, your eyes darting to him to find his gaze already on you, a small smile on his lips.

“It’s not changed much, probably exactly as you remember,” you smile back at him, glad for the distraction from your thoughts.

“Still have that hideous painting?” His smile turns, becoming cheeky as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Yes,” you reply. Jimin seemed to take some sort of personal offense at a painting you had in your home, as soon as he saw it he made it clear how much he hated it, and then every time since he has never failed to mention it. “It’s hanging proudly in my living room. Pride of place,” you struggle to keep the smile from your lips as you look at him.

Jimin lets out a hum, looking back to the path in front of you.

“I guess I should warn you,” you draw his eyes back to you. “I wasn’t expecting visitors so the place may be a bit of a state. I know I also offered drinks, but I only have spirits in and a limited supply of mixer. Host of the year, I know,” you let out a nervous laugh. “We could stop by a shop for something, or I guess turn back to the pub? Or we don’t have to -”

“Y/N,” Jimin's hand lands on your shoulder, stopping your rambles. “I’m sure it’s fine,” his smile simultaneously lessens your nervous while also making your heart flop in your chest. “I can always run to the shop if you really have nothing. But come on, you know me, I’d be up for doing shots.”

You laugh at his words. Good God, how is it possible for someone to be so beautiful and also so nice. It’s like the Gods were playing some sort of cruel game when they made him.

“Shots on a Thursday night, now you’re just asking for trouble.”

“Don’t forget that I know you Y/N. Don’t pretend like you’re above doing it.”

Another wicked smile is thrown your way and you wonder whether he is trying to kill you or whether it is just how Jimin is. Is he aware of how dangerous his smiles are? Because he should really be made aware of it, one of these days he is going to stop someone's heart with a simple look, and you are currently very high up the list of those someone’s.

“Well,” you are glad that your house comes into view, your door and house saving you from having to come up with a comeback.

Unlocking your door you zoom into the house, kicking off your shoes and leaving the door open for Jimin. You trust him to find his way into the living room while you dash around and collect the stray items littering the room. Hands full of a couple of mugs and the bowl you had breakfast in, you head towards the kitchen, passing Jimin lingering in the living room door way. He watches you move around the room, an amused smile on his face.

“You really don’t need to clean up for me,” he says.

You ignore him as you walk into the kitchen, dumping the bowl and mugs in the sink before looking at what booze you can offer. As expected, there is slim pickings.

“There is mostly gin, which I can offer with some possibly flat lemonade, or there is a bit of rum or I’m sure I can dig out a bottle of wine from somewhere,” you shout over your shoulder so Jimin can hear.

“Gin and flat lemonade sounds great,” Jimin says the words far closer than you expect and when you turn you see him leaning on the door frame watching you.

You heat with embarrassment, though you don’t know why, it seems to just be your natural instinct when around Jimin, especially when it is clear his eyes watch your every move. Under his scrutiny, you go into the cupboard to grab some glasses, making sure they’re your nice ones, before filling them with ice.

“Single or double?” You ask him and he seems to take the question as an invitation to walk into the room.

Now stood next to you he looks down with a knowing smile. “Really? What’s the point in a single?”

You nod at him, a smile toying the edges of your lips. Picking up one of the nicer gins you start to pour them out while Jimin starts to riffle through your alcohol bottles.

“You’re holding out on me Y/N,” Jimin holds up a tequila bottle up to you in explanation.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t have anything to mix with it, though I guess lemonade wouldn’t be terrible if you want?”

“Who said anything about a mixer?” The cheeky smile is back on his face.

“You were serious? It’s a Thursday night Jimin. Some of us have work tomorrow.”

“It will be fine,” he says, starting to riffle through your cupboard for shot glasses. Looks like you had little to no say on the matter. “We’re just having one. Or maybe two. We’ll be fine. Just call in sick if you need to.”

“Some of us have jobs we can’t just call in sick for,” you shoot back, but don’t protest when Jimin starts to pour out two shots.

“Well some of us will just have to suck it up then,” Jimin holds out the full shot glass to you.

Again, you take it without any complaints. “Are we really doing this? No lemon or salt or anything?”

“You’re the host,” his lip curl at the edges showing his amusement.

Another roll of your eyes and you hold up your shot glass to him as a silent answer. He clinks his shot glass against yours and then you’re throwing the liquid back into your mouth. You scowl at the taste, you are far to sober to be doing shots, but Jimin doesn’t even seem to flinch.

“Now that’s over, come on,” you pick up the two gin and lemonades you’d poured and move past Jimin into your living room.

He follows you, plopping down into the sofa next to you and taking the drink you offer with a thanks. You watch as his eyes take in the room, you can see that he’s trying not to look too nosy, taking everything in with wide eyes, but not lingering too long on any one item. While you look around your room trying to work out what it would look like from his eyes. Probably a mess of too many items, your shelves full of weird items that you have collected over the years and can’t bear to part with.

“I like the gnome,” he nods his head to your fireplace where a stuffed gnome sits, long legs dangling off the ledge.

“Sharon,” you reply and watch as Jimins lip tweaks up in the corner. “She’s very nosy,” you explain the name, looking at said gnome whose massive nose sticks out into the room. This comment causes the edges of Jimins lips to curl further into a smile and a bubble of satisfaction swells inside you at the thought that you caused that.

“And the flowers, they’re nice. From anyone special?” You don’t miss the digging in his question and hope swells within you.

“If I’m classed as someone special, then yes, they were from someone very special.”

He hums into his glass taking a sip so you can’t read his expression. But the hope lingers. Why would he ask that if not for personal interest? Because he’s a friend and friends ask each other personal questions, you answer your own question silently. But then, you were exactly that, friends, friends who attended a weekly pub quiz together, surely if you had a significant other he would know. So maybe he is asking for himself, making sure that he isn’t stepping on anyone's toes. The thought makes you heat up.

Stephs words from the other day ring in your head. You should tell him how you feel. You said you would tell him if an opportunity ever arose, and surely this was the opportunity. But you don’t even know how to begin. How do you tell someone you like them? How do you tell a friend that you like them as more than just a friend? Do you just come out and say it? Do you try and play coy and drop hints in the hope they pick them up?

One thing was for sure, you would need a lot more alcohol to even consider the possibility of uttering any words on that topic to him.

“You know, I will never understand your obsession for Gilmore Girls,” Jimin says, eyeing up you DVD collection.

“And I will never understand your obsession for Friends,” you shoot back.

His mouth falls open in offence as his eyes dart to yours. “Take that back. It’s a modern masterpiece.”

“If a TV show has a laugh track, then it’s not funny. They shouldn’t have to tell me when I need to laugh.”

“Friends?”

You raise your eyebrows, not saying a word, but answering his question in doing so.

“Maybe I should just leave now,” he mocks.

“Anyone not a fan of Gilmore Girls isn’t welcome in this house anyway, so works for me.”

Jimin laughs while you try to remain straight faced, having to take a sip of your drink to hide your twitching lips.

“This is why we make such a good quiz team.”

Now you truly laugh. Jimin could only look at you with a fond smile as a loud laugh escapes you.

“Now I know you’re lying. As much as I hate to say it, we all know Jin carries the team.”

“Jesus, never say that to him.”

“As if. I mean now Yoongi’s finally come through at least we can say he carries the team.”

“I don’t know if that’s a better option. Why can’t we just say that I carry it?”

You give him a look that says really? And you can see he is fighting a smile.

“Fine. Well it will have to be you then because it certainly isn’t Connie,” Jimin tries again.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Why?” Jimin looks genuinely puzzled. “You’re smart and get answers no one else does all the time. You were the one that got that question on quantum physics right.”

“It was about the planets,” you laugh, though you are surprised he remembered any of this. You wouldn’t have thought that Jimin could remember much about the quiz and what answers you gave, he always seemed to be there for a laugh, and more because of Jin and Namjoon’s (and now Yoongi’s) presence than yours. But maybe he took more notice of you than you realised. “And I only got that right because I’d seen a program Brian Cox did.”

“Smart,” Jimin replies as if he’s not listened to a word you’ve just said. “Only smart people watch shows like that.”

“Whatever you say,” you shake your head, pretending the words went straight through you and didn’t actually go straight to your heart. Jimin thinks you’re smart. It wasn’t the biggest or best compliment in the world, but it still meant so much to you.

The man you’ve had a crush on for God knows how long. Who you thought didn’t pay that much attention to you, who only hung around with you because you were friends with his friends, took more notice of you than you thought. But that didn’t really mean anything. Just because he could remember an answer you gave in a quiz doesn’t mean he’s in love with you. You attempt to push the hopeful thoughts away as you down the rest of your Gin and Lemonade.

“Want another?” You ask, though Jimin still has some of his drink left.

You watch as he throws his head back, downing the rest of his drink much like you downed your own. Watch as his Adams apple bobs in his throat. You can’t take your eyes off his neck in fact, so much so that when Jimins face comes back down to look at you, another cheeky smile appears on his lips showing he has caught you watching him.

You stand up and head to the kitchen to avoid having to acknowledging anything. This was supposed to be your opportunity to tell him everything, and yet here you are running. Steph would slap you if she were here.

“Another shot?” You hadn’t realised Jimin had followed you until he speaks.

Turning to look over your shoulder, there he stands. And maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe you would have reacted the same way if you had had nothing to drink, but you can’t help but just stare. Leaning against the door frame you can see the strong curves of his body, showing that even though he isn’t as tall or broad as Jin, he is still as powerful. Powerful, but with delicate features, pretty but manly.

Jimin pushes off the wall to stand at his full height before slowly walking towards you. You flush, realising you haven’t even replied to him, have simply just gawked at him for God knows how long. And the small, but cocky smile on his face shows he knows exactly what you were thinking as you looked at him.

You turn away from him as he gets near, hoping hiding your face will help to conceal how flustered you are. He only stops when his arm brushes against yours.

“As much as I loved the flat lemonade, I’d prefer a shot,” his words don’t hold any malice.

You can only watch as he pours out the liquid into the shot glasses you used before. He holds the glass out for you to take, and due to its size, your fingers overlap his as you take it from him. A small touch, something you wouldn’t even think about if he was anyone else. But he wasn’t anyone else. It was Jimin, and your skin heats at every point that he touches.

You barely have the glass in your hand before you’re knocking it back and downing the liquid. A light, surprised laugh leaves Jimins lips as he watches you, before he follows suit.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jimin pauses waiting for you to answer and when you turn to look at him he is leaning on the counter staring down at you.

“Of course,” you reply.

He stays silent a beat even after you answer and you use the time to lean against the counter yourself, trying to look more casual than you feel. Every beat of silence makes your heart beat harder anticipating what he’s about to ask.

“Have you and Jin ever...” his words trail off, and if it weren’t for his casual posture and tone of voice you would say he was flustered.

Your face automatically scrunches in confusion at his words, picking apart the five words he’s said as if it will make it any clearer what he’s trying to ask.

“Ever what?” You ask.

“You know.” You most certainly don’t, and when that suddenly becomes clear to Jimin he lets out a small sigh. “Have you ever hooked up, or thought about it? You just seem really close, and I don’t know I thought maybe...” his voice drifts off again.

You and Jin. Jin and you. However you say it, it sounds wrong.

What the hell is Jimin talking about. Even though he cleared the confusion up, it seems to have made everything murkier in your mind. Maybe that second shot was a bad idea after all.

“Me and Jin?” You say the words out loud and it makes it sound even weirder. “You think me and Jin are dating?”

“Not dating,” Jimin lets out a small chuckle at the words. “It just seems like there might be something, or was something, or could be something?”

“I thought you and Jin were good friends?”

“We are.”

“So surely you’d know from him that we’re just friends?”

Jimins shoulders rise and fall lightly in a shrug, and again you have to think that if it wasn’t for everything he was outwardly projecting, you would say he was bothered by this conversation. It felt like he was suppressing and hiding something, but you felt too confused and not with it to figure it out.

“You two always seem so close at the pub quiz. I don’t know, I just wondered if you liked him like that?”

Your mind was ringing. You have to wonder where the hell this all came from. How did this conversation even start? Your brain feels like it’s scrambled.

“Did Jin get you to ask this?” It’s the only reason you can think of as to why he’d be asking this. But Jin knows that you like Jimin, and surely Jin doesn’t like you as more than a friend.

“No,” Jimin lets out a small laugh again that you now realise is him trying to hide how much this conversation it affecting him.

“Because I like you, not Jin.”

It feels like the world stops spinning on its axes. The room goes eerily quiet after your words, even the noise from outside seems to have stopped. It all makes the ringing in your head that much louder.

Of everything that has been said so far, Jimin had not reacted to any of them, or if he did there were at least cool and calculated. Now, he stands taught and stiff, as if you’ve just pulled out a gun and are now pointing it in his direction. Though he still slightly leans on the counter, it now looks like he’s having to use it to stay up right rather than to lounge on.

“What?” His voice also sounds like he had to force it to leave his throat.

Eyes wide, you search Jimins face. At least he’s not running. Though that might be more because of the shock he is currently experiencing than anything else. In mere minutes, when his brain catches up, he’ll probably be out of here like a shot.

You grapple with what to say. This was not the way that you had planned to tell him, not that you had really planned to tell him at all, but if you had, it would certainly not have been like this. You want to blame him for making you slip up, all that nonsense about Jin, you were bound to say something. And the alcohol, you were still in your right frame of mind, didn’t feel anywhere near drunk, but your tongue and brain were looser, more likely to say something you’d regret. This being case and point.

But now you have decide what to say. You could pretend that you said something else. Or say you’re more drunk than you actually are and blame it on the shots (aka him). You could pretend to forget what you even said. Or just deny all knowledge if he keeps asking. But you know that you shouldn’t do any of that. Really, you don’t even want to. It is scary and you it makes you prone to heartache, but Steph was right, you should just tell him.

“I – uh – I like you?” It comes out less sure and more like a question as nerves bubble inside you.

Theres a beat or two of silence again and you can almost see the clogs turning in Jimins head. It only stretches on a second or two, but you can’t take it, your heart beating too fast, the nerves building up within you, your brain telling you that the silence means rejection. You have to fill it, so you start rambling.

“I like you,” the words come out more certain than last time. “But that doesn’t mean I expect you to return the feelings. In fact, I know you don’t and I’m fine with that. I’ve been friends with you for a while now and I’m happy just continuing how we are, nothing has to be weird or anything. We can just pretend I never said anything.”

A small crease appears between his eyebrows as you speak and you can almost see him snapping out of the daze he is in.

“Why would I want to forget about it?” He asks. “And why would you think I don’t return the feelings?”

He says it so blasé, that it throws you off.

“Because you don’t?” You almost stutter the words out.

The confidence slowly seeps back into him. He no longer stands stiff, but tall and loose limbed. Though his face remains neutral, the ghost of a smile lingers on his lips as he looks at you. It’s like he’s a cat eyeing up a mouse, and you’re the mouse that’s about to be eaten. You almost audibly gulp as he slides an inch closer to you, leaving only a small gap of air between you.

“And why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful. You’re my friend Y/N, but that doesn’t stop me looking at you and wishing for more.”

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted to hear him say, everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And here he is, saying it. It doesn’t feel real.

“But – you never even look at me, not like you look at all the other girls.”

“What are you on about?” He laughs, displaying his white teeth. “Of course I look at you like all those other girls. Maybe you never see because my gaze always tends to be directed at your great ass.”

You heat at the words, flustered all over again. Sensing how he is making you feel, a cheeky grin appears on Jimins face as he slides impossibly closer, while still not fully touching you. You can feel the heat coming off him, can feel the ghost of his body, but can’t full feel him.

You look everywhere but him. You can't bear to look him in the eyes. Though he is saying everything you wished, it’s only making you feel like this was a bad idea, though you don’t know why. You want to run away from this, but instead remain rooted to the spot. Maybe this is why you’d never openly admitted your feelings for him, because as scary as it was for him to tell you that he didn’t feel the same, it was also incredibly scary for him to say he did feel the same. You could comprehend heartache and getting turned down. It would have hurt, but you would have known where you stood and the journey ahead. This feels more like a step into the unknown. Where do you go from here?

Still not meeting his eyes, Jimin lifts up a hand and gently takes your chin in his fingers, forcing your head to angle up so he can look at you. His eyes search yours as yours search his. Both of you trying to find answers to questions you haven’t asked.

“You think I have a great ass?” You really can’t cope with silence.

Jimin throws his head back in a laugh, and a smile plays on your lips as you watch him. Continuing to laugh he brings his head back down and flops it onto your shoulder. Your breath catches in your throat as he turns his head into your neck.

“A great ass,” he says into the skin between your ear and shoulder, lips dancing across your skin. “A sexy brain. Beautiful eyes. Kissable lips.” His lips dance across your skin, slowly making their way north to your face, not quite kissing, but brushing against the skin in a way that gives you heart palpitations. “As if you’d ever think I’d leave you for a tall skinny blonde.”

He echoes your words from earlier when he is back at eye level, lips a breath away from yours. His words make your gut twist with guilt again. But your overriding emotion is how much you want him to kiss you. He doesn’t move any closer to you though, and as if sensing your frustration, a cocky smirk appears on his face.

It’s as if that’s the catalyst for you to lunge for him, effectively wiping the smile off his face.

His tongue easily makes its way into your mouth, swiping your teeth, then the roof of your mouth, before toying with your tongue. His hands tighten on your hips, and he works you both so that your back is against the counter, and he can put his weight on you. In mere seconds from you attaching your lips to his, you had lost control, though you are definitely not complaining.

You make out for a few minutes, without anything else happening. Your content to just do this, all night, if not forever. But then you shuffle to get more comfortable and feel him hard against you. Heat almost immediately floods to your core, and suddenly you are not content to continue just making out.

You don’t say anything straight away, you think through your options. He’s not said anything, he seems just as content to take this no further. And you have to wonder whether that’s for the best. You’re friends, and though you want more, there’s the risk that it will ruin everything. But isn’t that always the risk? There was also the fact that Jimin’s reputation shows that he probably only wants this to be a one-time thing, and you take a second to debate whether that was something you could handle. Was it better to have someone once, or not at all?

Ultimately, you realise that you’ve already crossed a line. Granted, it’s not as far across the line as having sex, but kissing (especially the way you currently are) is definitely not something friends do. Fuck it.

You pull away from Jimin, light breaths leaving your mouth as you look up at him.

“Bed?”

Light dances in his eyes before extinguishing, a small crease in his brow replacing it. His fingers lightly brush your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure?” His voice is soft, and coupled with his previous action, you wonder whether he does this to every potential lay, or if it’s because it’s you.

You nod your head, small but sure, and then realise that maybe he’s saying it because he doesn’t want to and you become less sure. “If you want to?”

His eyes flick between yours. “Of course I want to,” he says as if it’s written across his forehead. “But – Y/N,” he pauses, searching for the words. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You smile at him, your heart flutter at his concern. He could so easily have not said any of that. You were the one who suggested taking this further and he could have gone along with it. But as if he could read your mind and your concerns, he stops to check you actually want to go through with it and aren’t just saying it because you think it’s what he wants. He is the sweetest man on the planet, and again, you have to wonder whether he was doing this because it was you, or whether he would do this to anyone. Knowing Jimin, you’re sure he would extend this curtesy to anyone and everyone.

Smile still on your face, you extend yourself so you can press another kiss to his lips. God, you wish you could do that every minute of every day.

“I won’t regret it,” you say into his lips, and in case he’s still unsure you carry on. “I want it. I want you.”

“Thank god,” he mumbles before breaking into a smile. Stepping away from you an inch, he takes your hand in his. “Lead the way.”

You squeeze his hand tightly in yours as you tug him to the door, as if he’ll escape if you let go. You both run up the stairs, the anticipation of what’s about to come getting too much. A small giggle escapes your lips at the absurdity of the situation you find yourself in. Never in a million years would you have thought that this would become a reality.

Your giggle only deeps when you step through your bedroom door and Jimin pulls your hand, twisting you so that you slam into his chest. He kisses the giggles away, swallowing them in his own mouth.

Theres a new urgency as you both start to pull your clothes off. Jimin inching you both backwards, until the back of your knees hit the bed. At this point you’re both stood only in your underwear. Pausing, both of you letting small pants of air out and you catch Jimin slowly drag his eyes up and down your body. You resist the urge to cover yourself and instead let him drink you in.

“Fuck,” he sighs the words.

Stepping the inch into you he recaptures your lips, hands going from your hips to your ass, kneading the skin.

“You really are an ass guy, huh?” You chuckle.

He laughs, lips travelling from your lips to your jaw to your neck, while one of his hands moves forward in between your legs. You gasp when his fingers pull your pants sideways so they can run through your folds. You’re damp, not fully wet, but Jimin still lets out a satisfied hum into your neck. His fingers only linger there a second before he’s retreating though, a groan of protest leaves your lips.

He doesn’t give you any warning as he unclasps your bra, letting it drop to the floor, before gently lowering you onto the bed. He stays looming over you for a second, looking down at you, and you gulp as you look up at him, wetness pooling in your pants at the sight of him near naked looking down at you like that.

He dips, going down onto his knees before you. His fingers clasp the band of your pants, pulling them down your legs before dumping them with your bra. You push yourself up onto your elbows so you can see what he’s doing. His fingers run along the inside of your legs, going from your ankles slowly up, pushing your legs wider open in the process. You catch on to what he plans, and start to let out a noise of protest, a small “you don’t have to” leaving you lips quickly dies in your throat when his fingers meet your centre.

Pushing himself up onto his knees, he brings his head closer to you. And when his fingers start to dip into you, his mouth attaches itself to your clit, and you let out your first real moan. And when he puts a second finger in you, curling them at just the right point, your elbows can no longer support you and you collapse back onto the bed.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you come undone, but neither you or Jimin comment on it. You feel his tongue sweep through your folds as you pant, looking up at the white ceiling, and then his weight is gone. You’re aware of him taking off the last piece of clothing that he wears.

“Top draw,” you say, without him saying anything.

Theres the noise of a draw being opened, of him fumbling around, and then the distinctive rip of a foil packet being opened. The bed dips under his weight, and then your view of the white ceiling is obscured by a smiling Jimin. An improvement to any view.

“Fuck you tasted so good,” he says. “If I wasn’t so hard, I’d eat you out all night.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you so you can kiss him. Theres a lingering taste of you in his mouth.

Lips still attached to yours, he grinds down into you, his hard cock running through your folds. You both moan at the feeling. He does this a few more times, seemingly content to do just that forever, but you grow frustrated.

“Jimin,” you whine, and a cheeky smile appears on his lips as he ignores you, continuing to grind into you. “Jimin. Please.”

He takes pity on you, stopping his movements when he’s lined up with you. Your breath hitches in your throat when he starts to push into you. He goes inch by inch, only stopping when he’s fully bottomed out.

“Fuck,” you’ve never heard him curse so much as you have tonight.

He doesn’t ask you when you’re ready, instead just starts to slowly move in and out of you. It doesn’t take him long to speed up. He drags himself slowly out of you before slamming back into you, jostling you up the bed.

“Why have we waited so long to do this?” Jimin says over the top of the noise of your bodies slapping against each other.

Grabbing your knee, he pulls it up slightly, changing the angle making you both moan. Then, he starts to go rabid. His movements now anything but slow as he pounds in and out of you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he says.

You don’t know how he’s able to form words, your mind is completely blank. The only thing you’re aware of is the feeling of him inside you. You can hear moans, but you’re now no longer sure if it’s you, Jimin, or both of you making the noise. You at least last longer than when he ate you out, but it still feels like you come undone faster than you normally would. But you can’t hold out any more. The feeling of him inside you is enough to drive you insane.

Your mind feels like it implodes, pure whiteness fills your vision as your back arches off the bed and you let out an inhuman sound. You feel Jimin chase his own high, hips bucking into you at a faster pace, extending your pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jimins hips stutter as he finds his own release.

He thrusts two more times before pulling out of you. Taking off his condom, he throws it in the bin before falling onto the bed next to you. You’re both sweaty and panting, but he still opens his arms as you roll into his side. You feel the light kiss of his lips on the crown of your head and when you look up at him his fingers push a few strands of hair that have stuck to sweat on your forehead.

Your eyes search his, as you grow nervous again. You’d just had sex with him, yet you’re nervous to ask what currently swims in your mind in case he rejects you. A small smile plays on his lips as he basically reads your mind.

“I’ll stay,” he says, causing your nerves to instantly disappear. “If you want me to.”

You fall back into his arms. “I want you to.”

He moved you, only so you can get under your covers, and your body instantly curls back into his. Your eyes start to feel heavy quickly, the small circles Jimin draws on your arm helping to lull into sleep.

“You’re right,” you manage to mumble out before you fall asleep. “We shouldn’t have waited so to do that.”

You feel the kiss he places on your head before sleep over takes you.

There are two distinct things that you’re aware of when you wake. One is the blaring alarm that goes off every morning to wake you up for work. The other is the hard, smooth planes of Jimins bare chest on your cheek and hands.

Rolling to your side you tap on your bed-side table until the annoying noise is silenced, and then roll back into Jimins side. Jimins arm sneaks around you, lightly squeezing your sides as you feel his lips press against the crown of your head.

“Morning,” his morning voice is croaky and husky, and you think if you aren’t already in heaven, then that noise alone might send you there.

You crane your neck so you can look at him. His hair is dishevelled, bits sticking up at odd angles, his eyes are puffy and half closed, but his mouth is pulled back into a full beamed smile. You don’t think as you lean up to press a kiss to his mouth. This is how you want to wake up every day.

“Morning,” you mumble against his lips, pressing one last kiss before pulling away. “I feel like hell.”

“You look like hell,” he says, which earns a light smack on his stomach. “Joking,” he elongates the word while his hand starts to draw circles on your side. “You always look amazing.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

You yelp as his hands encompass your waist, and as if you weigh nothing, pulls you onto his chest so that you stare down at him.

“I’m not. You do look amazing,” he says. “Even if your hair does look like a bird's nest.”

Your laugh gets silenced as Jimin captures your lips with his, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth. His hands go from your hips to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze before starting to knead the skin. You moan loudly into his mouth before pulling away.

“I need to get ready for work,” you say as his hands continue their motions.

“I can be quick,” he says as his lips attach themselves to your jaw.

“You need to get ready for work. And I doubt you want to go in wearing the same thing as yesterday, so that means you need to go home,” you struggle to get the words out as his mouth works its way down to your neck.

“Call in sick,” he mumbles.

You stop fighting for a second, a light moan escaping you as he continues. For a second or two you forget why you’re arguing, and then for the next second you wonder if you should bother protesting, if you should just give into him. But then you snap to your senses, sitting up on him so that his lips can no longer easily attach themselves to you. He groans as he looks up at you, his lips puckering into a pout.

“I can’t call in sick,” you laugh at him.

He lets you remove your legs from his waist before you stand up. He stays lying on the bed, but his eyes follow you as you walk naked around the room.

“But now I have a problem that needs sorting out.”

You look over your shoulder at him and follow his gaze as he looks down at his now erect cock. You stifle a laugh as you shake your head, looking away from him to focus again on getting ready. You wanted to be strong, and if you focused on him looking like that in your bed too long you would easily give in. Though you have to keep wondering if that would be such a bad thing.

“The bathroom’s over there if you want to go and sort yourself out,” you say.

You don’t hear his approach, and a small squeal leaves your lips as his hands wrap around your waist.

“But that’s no fun,” he says into the skin just below your ear.

He pulls you backwards to his chest, and you feel just how big a problem he has. You can’t resist teasing him, grinding lightly back into him, and you feel proud when you hear and feel the breathy moan against your neck.

“I don’t have time,” you say as you pull away from him, a wide smile on your face.

“Babe,” he wines, hands trying to grab you back into his embrace. The nickname does something to your heart.

You spin around to face him, letting his arms drag you into his chest.  

“What do you want?” You smile up at him, failing to sound annoyed.

“It’s fine,” he huffs, but is clearly not annoyed. “I’ll sort myself out in the bathroom.”

“Don’t make me feel bad,” you smile up at him, planting a kiss on his mouth. You could really get used to this. “I can help you out if you want. It will just have to be quick. I do really need to get ready for work.”

He smiles down at you, eyes dancing across your face before he gives you another peck.

“It’s fine. It would be nice, but we have plenty of time to do it any other time,” he says, before pressing another kiss on your lips and then finally letting you go.

God, he was the best. You know plenty of guys who wouldn’t have dropped the matter so easily, hell, you’ve been with enough guys that had expectations when it came to sex, and though they never forced themselves on you, it was nice to be listened to. Not every guy was a sleaze, but enough were that this small thing from Jimin meant a lot to you.

You and Jimin do an invisible dance around each other in near silence. You choosing clothes for the day, him retrieving his clothes that got discarded last night. You wanted to stay home with him, you wanted to call in sick, you didn’t want to leave him for a second, but the guilt would weigh too heavily on you. Plus, you knew if you did it once, then you’d never stop doing it, especially if it meant being with Jimin.

You had a lingering feeling that last night may have been the only time you’d be with him, that if you didn’t take him up on the offer of a repeat now, you may never get the chance again. But it gave you confidence that he said there would be plenty more time for this. You didn’t really expect him to do a hit and run on you, especially as he had stayed the night, but this whole situation scared you. You didn’t know what it was, and didn’t want to question it in case you had different ideas about what it was and scared him off. Jimin was known for his short relationships after all.

When you’re both dressed, you head down the stairs, and before you can turn to head into the kitchen, Jimin takes your hand in his, stopping you.

“If I truly am going to work today, I really should head home to get ready,” he explains.

“You don’t want any food?”

“If I stay any longer, I won’t want to leave,” he admits, and you can see how genuine he is.

Even as your heart pangs, you still roll your eyes at him. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it,” he laughs, tugging your hand to pull you closer, before engulfing you in a hug. “I had a really nice night,” he mumbles into your ear.

You hum back, content to be in his arms a bit longer. You don’t want to go back to reality. It feels like you’ve been in a dream world since last night, and as soon as Jimin steps out of that door it will all be shattered. All night you’ve been thinking about where last night leaves you, and the thoughts all come back to you now.

“Can we not tell anyone about it?” The words leave your lips without much thought and when you feel Jimin stiffen in your arms you panic. “I don’t mean that,” you stutter, pulling away from him just enough to see his face. “I mean, I do. But, I just mean, can we wait a bit to tell everyone about last night?”

He has managed to school his face into a neutral stare by the time you look up at him, but his body is still stiff in yours. You wonder what you said wrong. Was it the fact he wanted to tell people about you, because surely you weren’t his normal bragging material. Or was it because he had assumed that what you had asked was obvious, and you saying the words made him realise that last night may have been a mistake because if it wasn’t obvious, what else wasn’t? You pray that it wasn’t because he’d already told people.

“You don’t want to tell people we slept together?” His eyes search yours as he looks down at you, and you swallow the lump that forms in your throat. This suddenly felt very serious.

“I just want to wait to see how things settle between us before we drag others in.” The words are clumsy because you don’t know what Jimin wants and don’t want to give away how much you want him if he doesn’t want you the same way.

“But you want me, right?” It’s the first time he’s sounded vulnerable, unsure, and you instantly pull him tighter to you. You’ve been stupid, you realise, he’s made it clear he wants you (even if only for a bit longer), you shouldn’t be so hostile to him just because he has a reputation.

“Of course,” you say it as if it’s the only thing you’re sure of, because it is. “I want this. I want you. I want to see where this goes. But I want us to see where this goes before others tell us where it should go.”

He nods his head slowly at you, as if finally understanding what you mean. The happiness from earlier starts to seep back into his face and the sight calms you. Maybe you haven’t just screwed this up after all.

“I get it,” he says.

“And we will tell them,” you assure him. “Just not straight away. I want you to myself a bit longer.”

“I know,” he smiles at you before leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. “Now. I really do have to go.”

One last kiss, his hands roaming down to squeeze your ass, and before your arm can extend to slap him, he’s walking out the door. He gives you a cheeky smile over his shoulder as he walks down your road, and you stay leaning in your door watching him until he’s gone from sight.

The delay to your morning means that you only have time to grab a cereal bar before you have to set off for work. You wouldn’t regret it if it wasn’t for the hangover and nausea that sets in as soon as you’re out of the house. Without Jimin around distracting you, you suddenly realise how rough you feel.

Walking to work you try to take your mind off your pounding headache by pulling your phone out. Finally opening up the unread messages you have on your phone. There’s a few from the group chat with Connie, Yoongi and Jin. You wonder whether opening this will be the thing that tips you over the edge, it will probably do you more harm than good, but you open it anyway.

Connie: Do I win the bet if Jimin takes home Y/N not Izzy?

Jin: No.

Yoongi: Plus, technically, Y/N took Jimin home.

Connie: You guys are no fun.

Jin: That’s not what your mum said last night

Yoongi: What are you, 10?

Jin: Inches, yeah.

Jin has been removed from the chat by Yoongi

You smile at the stupid interaction from last night. But the messages keep on going from this morning, Jin having been re-added by Yoongi, and they turn your expression slightly sour.

Jin: Still nothing from Y/N? How much sex do we reckon they had last night?

Connie: Jesus, Jin. Read the room. None of want to be thinking about that at 8am.

Yoongi: He’s just still bitter I kicked him out of the group.

Connie: What did he offer you to get re-added?

Yoongi: He said he’d buy me a bottle of whiskey.

Jin: I had my fingers crossed behind my back, makes the promise null and void.

Jin: ANYWAY. Y/N and Jimin.

Connie: She should be up by now... I want the gossip!!  

Jin: I’ve messaged Jimin too, and no word there... I think that may be confirmation enough

Yoongi: Maybe they both just had too much to drink

Jin: Or are just too sore

Connie: You’re disgusting

Jin: Oh, come on. You’re as bad as me, you’re just too afraid to say it

Connie: Yeah, because it’s disgusting.

Jin: Details, details...

Connie: @Y/N, wake up!!

Connie: @Y/N, we want details!!

You want to turn your phone off. You want to hide away in embarrassment. You kind of want to smash your head against a wall, or better yet, smash your friends' heads against a wall.

But you’ve opened the messages now. They’ll all see the blue tick against your name, and it would look dodgier if you left them on read. No, you had to reply, and you either had to lie, or skirt the truth. Neither was ideal, but you were the one to ask Jimin not to tell anyone what had happened, you couldn’t at the earliest opportunity go back on that, and you had made that request for a reason. No, you didn’t want them finding out what happened. Not yet anyway.

Y/N: Can’t talk, feel like I might keel over and die any second, or throw up the entire contents of my insides. Whichever comes first.

Connie: Gross.

Jin: SHE’S ALIVE!!!

Y/N: Barely.

Connie: Details then! What happened?

Y/N: Exactly as was advertised. Jimin came back to mine and we had some drinks. You guys were more than welcome to join, but boring Jin had to ruin it.

Jin: I thought we agreed I’m not boring?

Jin: Sounds like you’re the boring one anyway. Just drinks?

Y/N: And chatting, believe it or not, we didn’t sit in complete silence.

Jin: There are other noises that I was imagining you making.

Y/N: Oh. And this is me stepping into work. Got to go. Have a nice day guys.

You lock your phone and put it in your pocket as you step into your small office. You knew they were all joking, but it still felt a bit too close to home. They always teased you about your crush, and you always went along with it, because it made it seem and feel less serious than it was. But now that something was or might be happening, it brought on fresh waves on panic. Which, given your current state, was not welcome.

You manage to make it to your desk before collapsing in your chair and flopping your head on the table. You don’t even put your computer on in an attempt to look like you might be trying to work. You just take a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

You try to focus on Jimin rather than your friends. It strangely settles your worries. Because, he is amazing, and last night was amazing, and any thought of that filled you with joy. It all felt a bit wild and fast, but it also felt strangely right. The way he had looked in your kitchen, the kiss on your cheek before he had left your house, and compared to the wild, passionate sex, it felt domestic.

Sitting up, you push the few buttons to get your computer up and running, if you had made it into work, you may as well try and get something done. And as you sit and watch your screen turn from black to coloured, you see Steph coming to your desk.

“You're glowing.”

“Thanks Steph. I don’t feel like I’m glowing, I actually feel like hell,” you perch your head on your arm.

“Another heavy night at the pub quiz?”  

“Something like that,” you grumble.

“Don’t tell me Jimin finally fell into your bed.”

You look up at her at those words, your face the picture of confusion, though your heart hammers in your chest. You’d asked Jimin to tell no one, and yet the first person you see guesses before you can say a word. You felt like you’d barely batted off Jin, Connie and Yoongi, and here Steph is basically reading your mind. God, if they were all like that over text, what would they be like in person if you are so obvious?

“Like I said, you’re glowing. You’ve obviously had a night of incredible sex.”

Your face burns at the words that come out so casually, but try to remain unphased. Even with the sly look Jon gives you from across the desk.

“I think that’s a myth, the whole glowing after sex thing,” you carry on, glad your voice comes out steady.

“Obviously not.”

“Maybe it’s all the alcohol I consumed.”

“A lack of vitamins can do that to a person,” the sarcasm is thick in her voice.

“That’s what they say,” you reply, knowing she was joking but hoping to drag her away from the conversation. “Now can you leave me alone. It’s nothing personal, but even the effort of trying to come up with words for a conversation is making my head pound.”

Steph smiles at you, part warm, part knowing. But you’re thankful when she places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’m happy for you,” she says before disappearing back to her desk.

You spend the rest of the day trying and mostly failing to focus on work. And as hard as you try, you can’t help when you mind wonders to Jimin. Especially when he messages you asking if you want to spend the weekend together. As much as you worried that it was only a one-night kind of thing, Jimin seemed to keep proving you wrong. Maybe he was in this as much as you were.

For the rest of the day, you struggle to fight the smile that keeps rising to your mouth. In the end you just give in to it.

And the rest of the weekend and the week that follows feels much the same. You spend most of your free hours with Jimin, and when you’re not together you seem to be texting. And as great as the sex is (because there is a lot, and it is amazing), it also feels more than that. You talk and have fun together. You feel happier than you have felt in years.

“Who won the Premier League in 2016?” The host’s voice booms throughout the quiet room.

“Why do they always ask football questions in sports rounds?” You complain as you watch Yoongi scribble down the answer. “They never ask netball questions, or hockey, or what about bowls? Everyone loves bowls.”

“Name one person that loves bowls,” Jimin laughs but keeps talking before you can answer him. “Because, believe it or not, football is a very popular sport that a lot of people are fans of.”

“Yeah, that is hard to believe.”

“Oh come on, even you know the answer to this one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, even me?” You shoot him a semi-annoyed look, knowing he didn’t mean anything by the words, the smile that remains on his face only emphasises the point.

“I meant everyone. Everyone knows the answer to this one. And I know you know, because we watched them win in the pub together and you were very excited. It certainly felt like you were a fan of football that night.”

“I don’t know the answer,” Connie chips in, and Jimin shoots you a look to suggest that she wasn’t included in the everyone statement. Poor Connie.

“Fine. It was exciting because of the atmosphere. Not because bloody Leicester won. Happy?” You say, the smile on your face betraying your annoyed tone.

He doesn’t answer, but the smirk on his face tells you everything. You only widen your smile in return.

“Question 9.” Once again, the quiz host manages to quieten the room. “Who has won the most Tennis Grand Slam titles?”

“Sue Barker was pretty good back in her day,” Jin says before taking a sip of his drink.

“Nadal?” Once again everyone pretends that Jin hasn’t even spoken.

“Or Federer,” Yoongi says, tapping the pen on the table.

“I think it’s one of those, everyone thinks it’s Federer but it’s actually Nadal, answers,” Jimin replies.

“And are we not even going to consider Serena Williams?” You narrow your eyes at the boys and they both look at you slightly wide eyed. “He never specified gender. Believe it or not, women can be good at sports too.”

“I know,” Jimin replies, and you’re glad he didn’t use your response from earlier the way you used his. “Serena is a good shout.”

Both men have turned slightly pink from your jab at them, and though you don’t want to make them feel uncomfortable and know they weren’t doing it on purpose, you’re secretly a bit glad. It annoyed you that women were always over looked in sports, so even a small reminder to remember them was useful.

“I’m not saying she’s the answer, just someone to throw in the mix,” you shrug.

“No, I think it is her,” Jimin replies and Yoongi quickly scribbles it down.

You look at Jin who’s remained sat quietly watching the whole thing and he only raises his eyebrows at you, giving you a knowing smirk. You heat at the unspoken words. It was weird for Jimin to back down so easily, and here he was complimenting you. He couldn’t be making it any more obvious to them that something was going on between the two of you. It just made you feel even more guilty for not telling anyone. But you would tell them, just not until things settled and you and Jimin knew where you stood. Everything was still new. You didn’t want everyone knowing and dooming the whole thing.

“And finally,” the quiz host shouts out. “How many stages are there in the Tour de France? That’s stages in the Tour de France. Thanks for another week folks, as always go grab a drink before I start giving the answers.”

“Did Beyonce perform there one year?” Jin says and everyone frowns at him. “Stages? Like performance stages, it was meant to be a joke.”

“Well, as always, it wasn’t funny,” you reply, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Harsh,” he mumbles, but still chuckles.

“Why is the last question always impossible,” Connie moans.

“I think they do it on purpose,” Jimin adds and Connie shoots him a look as if to say no shit.  

“Not impossible,” Yoongi says as he scribbles on the answer sheet.

Jin sits up straighter, looking more interested than he has the whole evening.

“Oh my God. You know the answer?”

“Believe it or not, I’m the only one who know most of the answers. I carry the team,” he shrugs but throws you a wicked grin that takes you by surprise, it was so un-Yoongi.

“But Tour de France? Who even watches that?” Jin continues.

“I never said I watch it,” Yoongi throws back. “Someone I went to school with was in it one year and when I spoke to them, they said it was 21 stages,” Yoongi explains, still as unbothered as always.

“Where do you store all this knowledge? You’re so small, and that head must only be able to contain a brain the size of a pea, yet you come out with this sort of nonsense. It shocks and appals me that you can remember that, yet can’t remember to take the bins out on a Wednesday,” Jin shakes his head as if it was really affecting him, and then abruptly stands up and says, “another round?” and doesn’t wait for a response before walking off to the bar.

“I am honestly going to kill him one day,” Yoongi fumes in the corner and you wonder whether the look on his face was the reason Jin decided to leave so quickly.

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to refrain for so long,” you laugh, though are unsure if you should provoke the matter.

“It’s only because he lets me drink his whiskey and doesn’t mind when I play my music too loudly,” again Yoongi says the words with little emotion, but you know for a fact that there is more to it than that. Yoongi had a hard outer shell, but it didn’t take much to affect him inside. He may not look it but he actually felt very deeply, and you knew that he loved Jin a lot.

Connie drags him into a conversation about sport that you only half pay attention to. Your attention is focused when a hand lightly squeezes your leg.

Turning to look at Jimin you see a concerned look in his eye. His hand remains on your leg, with seemingly no care of who can see the touch, though you doubt anyone could see or comment even if they did look.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, giving your leg another soft affectionate squeeze.

“What do you mean?” You ask, hand absently falling on top of his.

“I didn’t mean to offend you about the football and then be all misogynistic,” he replies while turning his hand so it’s palm up in your lap.

“You didn’t offend me,” you say, lightly trailing patterns on his palm with your finger, because he didn’t. You just felt a bit uptight tonight, little things that wouldn’t normally get to you were annoying you more than normal.

You had felt stressed before coming tonight. You and Jimin had spent basically the whole week together, and tonight would be your first time together around others. You still hadn’t told anyone, Jimin had raised the matter, but when you asked him for a bit more time, he had easily agreed. You were stressed about not telling anyone, and then them finding out and being upset. So, even though you didn’t mean to get upset about Jimins statements, your tense state caused the unnecessary harshness.

“But I was misogynistic?” A small smile lights his lips as he glances down at your two hands. Your fingers continue their patterns and if anyone were to look over the table at you, they wouldn’t see the fumbling currently happening under the table, it was the only reason you carried on.

“A tiny bit,” you say with no malice. “But only a tiny bit. I forgive you.”

“Thank God,” Jimin says dramatically before snatching your hand in his. “Because I’d never be able to cope if you didn’t.”

You laugh at his overly dramatic words, and the laugh only deepens when he takes the hand that he holds and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a light kiss on it. Pulling your hand away from his lips reveals the full, mega-watt beaming smile on his lips that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Right, they were out of the You’re a Swine IPA Yoongi, so I got you a Stella like everyone else,” Jin announces his presence by putting the tray full of drinks of the table.

You take your hand out of Jimin and place it back under the table while the smile is wiped off your face, as if you suddenly remember where you are and who’s there. You don’t look to see Jimins reaction but can feel his silent stare on you. Picking up your fresh drink you take a long gulp of it and catch Yoongi’s eye when you place it back on the table. It feels like the man is all seeing and all-knowing as he raises an eyebrow at you, but you’re thankful that he doesn’t say anything. You felt nervous about tonight, and then you let Jimin be so obvious? You heated at the thought of being caught out.

You try to fall back into the easy conversation that starts up around you. With Jin’s opening statement they talk mainly about Yoongi’s new fascination with the on-tap beers from local breweries that have weird and fantastical names. Jin is convinced Yoongi only wants them because it means that Jin has to say the name when ordering, but Yoongi retorts that he genuinely enjoys the taste and if anything is helping out local businesses. You have to say that Jin makes a good point, especially when Yoongi recently requested a pale ale called Fanny Me This.

There’s no hand holding or secret conversations as the quiz host comes back out and gives the answers. Though you did pretty well on the sports round, Yoongi coming through on the Tour de France answer and your suggestion of Serena Williams being right bumping your points up, you still don’t get over 40 points. On the way home though, when you’ve said goodbye to the others, Jimin doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand in his and you don’t say anything as you lean slightly into his body. You kind of love how normal it feels when you ask him if he wants to come into your house when you reach the door, and you definitely love that he doesn’t even think twice to accept.

Even though only three pub quizzes have passed, it feels weird turning up without Jimin by your side. If he hadn’t already been at your house then he would walk your way so you could have at least 10 minutes together. But you haven’t actually seen Jimin in two days at this point. Which, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t much, but with how much time the two of you had been spending together, it felt like a lifetime.

He’d gone on a night out with his work mates on Tuesday night for his company's annual conference. It’s a massive event where the company celebrates the previous years work, awards innovation in the company as well as hard work, and basically just uses it as an excuse to have a massive piss up.

Jimin had invited you, and even if it hadn’t been on a Tuesday (who even does that?), you still felt like it was a massive leap in your relationship. You liked where the two of you were, but you still hadn’t explicitly told anyone, though you’re sure a few have guessed. Going to Jimin’s work conference with Jimin, just felt big. Especially when the two of you hadn’t discussed what you were. You hadn’t really told Jimin the extent of your worries, merely told him that a Tuesday wasn’t ideal, what with work the next day, he’d seemed disappointed but didn’t press the matter, saying he understood but would miss you.

You hadn’t heard much from Jimin after that. The next day had basically been radio silence until it was pretty much dark, and at that point you could tell that he was suffering the effects of a heavy night. He had been slightly more talkative yesterday and this morning, but had said that he was having dinner with a friend in town tonight so it made more sense to go straight to the pub then come to yours first.

When you arrive at the pub Jimins already at the bar talking to Izzy, he looks over and gives you a small wave, which you return as you head to the table. It’s no surprise when you see Yoongi, Jin and Connie already sat at the table, they always seem to arrive before you. And before you even take your bag off and sit down, Jimin is at the table, drinks for everyone in hand.

You can’t take your eyes off him, your emotions for him bubbling to the surface as you look at him so close. Especially when he takes his seat next to you, it’s like you can’t take in enough of him, seeing him so close after so long. You want to hug him, want to kiss him, want to touch him, but you settle for a smile. The rest could wait for later when you’re both alone.

He returns the smile, but you can’t help but feel like it’s missing something. The glint in his eye isn’t as strong. The crinkles at the side of his eyes not as deep. His teeth not showing as broadly. It just doesn’t feel as genuine as it normally does. But when his hand lightly squeezes your leg before retracting, you know you’re over reacting. You’d not seen him in three days and now you’re some psychotic, overthinker. You needed to chill.

It doesn’t take long for the quiz to start, and you get lost in the easy banter and thinking of the answers you should definitely know, (what is the capital of New Zealand? Was a real bugbear until Jin shouted out Wellington, letting half the tables around you know the answer too). It feels normal, nothing off, making you decide that everything from earlier was definitely your imagination.

And then the questions finish, and Jimin offers to get another round in, the round that should be yours to buy, but he merely gives you a wink as he walks to the bar. Your heart leaps at the gesture, and then instantly falls when you look down and see the faces staring back at you. Concern is written over every feature, and your face scrunches in confusion before Jin talks.

“So, I hear that you may have won the bet,” Jin says, his voice light, but also thick with unease.

“What?”

“The Jimin and Izzy bet,” he attempts to clarify.

Your mind still can’t really compute what he’s trying to tell you. And then it hits you like a tonne of bricks.

The bet. The bet that was made weeks ago, before anything had happened between you and Jimin. You had won that bet?

Your body heats at the connotations before fully processing what was going on. You turn to look again at where Jimin is stood at the bar. Much like when you made the bet, Jimin is stood leaning against the bar talking to the beautiful barmaid, both with full beam smiles on their faces. You can almost see the flirtation coming off them in waves. And you suddenly wonder if that is why he was so keen to buy your round, to be closer to her for a few minutes. If that is why he seemed so off with you, if it is why he hasn’t been talking to you as much over the last few days.

“What do you mean I won?” You try again to clarify, because even though you fully understand, you can’t help but hope there’s been a misunderstanding somewhere.

Jin looks around the table at Yoongi and Connie, but their eyes are on you, while you just try to avoid everyone's eyes. It’s easier to try and remain like you are in control of yourself if you don’t look at them.

“Uh – well – did you not hear?” Jin stutters, and when you shake your head he carries on. “Jimin went on a night out and took Izzy home.”

Well fuck.

It was every nightmare you had come true. It was everything you had imagined happening, actually happening. You felt like you were drowning, searching for something to stay afloat, and there was nothing there.

But you had to remain calm. No one actually knew that anything had happened between the two of you, and this was exactly why. You felt humiliated as it was, they all knew how you felt towards the man, hence the sympathetic looks, but to throw in them knowing something was actually happening between the two of you? You’d die of shame on the spot.

“When?”

“Uh,” again, Jin looks at Connie and Yoongi for support, and again, they both ignore him. “Tuesday,” he says scratching the back of his neck.

His conference. The night that he had invited to you, and you had said you couldn’t go. Had he invited Izzy in your place, or simply stumbled upon her in the night? Well, it at least explains why he’d been so quiet with you over the last few days, and why he seemed a bit weird with you tonight.

Your mind starts to run away from you. Coming up with wilder and wilder theories of what happened. You have to take a visible breath in to compose yourself before you speak again. Jin, Connie and Yoongi were not the enemy here, you shouldn’t be taking it out on them. Plus, they didn’t even know about you and Jimin, though their concern at least stemmed from somewhere, probably the fact they knew you liked him, or had guessed something was happening.

“Well, I did say I know him the best, didn’t I?” You try, and almost definitely fail, to sound unmoved by the whole situation, taking a sip of your drink for something to do.

“It’s just Yoongi that has to pay up then,” Jin replies, and you’re grateful for the semi change in subject, but his eyes are still on you, as if watching for signs of distress.

You hum in reply, eyes going to Yoongi who, of course, is already looking at you. While concern swam in Jins eyes, it is less noticeable in Yoongi’s, making it easier to hold his stare.

“A drink, crisps, and a shot of sours I think it was,” Yoongi chips in. “I’ll get it in after Jimins round.”

Again, you hum, words still failing you. You’re glad when the others start talking, not expecting you to join in, but still shooting you concerned looks from time to time. You plaster on an obviously fake smile, that you’re sure does anything to reassure them. In fact, I probably looks so manic that it worries them more.

The thing is that the timeline matches, in your mind it all adds up to being plausible. Jimin had invited you on a night out the other day, saying he was going out with some work friends, but you had turned it down because you had too much work to do the next day to be hungover. He hadn’t messaged you much since, which wasn’t odd per se, but now it makes you wonder whether he was doing it to be cold, to push you away because he was moving on from you. You don’t want to believe that Jimin would do that, but part of you thinks that’s exactly how he would get rid of you.

And looking at him now only solidifies everything you’ve ever thought. Jimin wasn’t a relationship guy. He liked to have a conveyor belt of women, constantly moving.

You had wanted to believe different, had wanted to believe everything he had said to you over the last few weeks. But you now felt stupid for thinking any of it was true, felt stupid for believing that your relationship with him could be anything but physical. He had never explicitly said that it would be anything more, but his words had implied enough for you to hope. He’d taken you for the fool you clearly are. He’d played you like a fiddle.

The lump in your throat thickens the longer you sit here and think about it all. Angry tears threaten to well up and you didn’t want to add to the current shame you were feeling by letting them fall. You wanted to be out of here before Jimin got back to your table and ultimately made you feel worse than you currently feel.

“I’m actually not feeling great, I think it might be some dodgy fish I had for tea,” you cut across whatever conversation was going on around you, causing all eyes to shoot back to you.

You can tell none of them are convinced, but none of them stop you as you start packing up your bag in haste. Half your mind is at the bar, monitoring Jimin, making sure that he isn’t coming back to the table to catch your escape. It takes you mere seconds to put your purse in your bag, down the dregs of your drink, pull your coat on and stand, ready to leave, from the table.

“You’re not staying for the rest of the quiz?” Jin asks.

“I really don’t feel great. I fear if I don’t get to a bathroom soon, I may ruin everyone's night,” maybe a tad extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  

Jin’s eyebrows pinch in either disgust or confusion, maybe both. But food poisoning, or whatever you are pretending to have comes on fast, you try and convince yourself, as you worm your way out of your spot at the table.

“Ok,” Jin continues to looked puzzled as he watches you leaving. “Well, text us when you get home. And call me, or come round, if you want to talk.”

“Yep,” you say in a squeaky voice as you finally free yourself, having a clear shot at the pubs door you give the table a final glance, three worried faces stare back at you and you barely make out the word “goodbye” before ducking for the door.

They could all see right through you. Jin was one of your better friends, you’d know him and been closest to him for the longest, and the look on his face told you he could see straight through your act. But Connie and Yoongi were also not stupid, and let’s face it, you didn’t do the best job at acting.

Out in the fresh air, you feel slightly better, but with the pub still close you continue to feel on edge as you half walk, half run in the direction of your home. You wouldn’t truly feel at ease until you were in your house, front door locked and even then, you doubt the feelings currently going through you would go away.

Still, you rush to your home, your mind whirling the whole way. But you push the thoughts away. You push them away until you’ve reached your door, keep pushing them as you lock the door and head upstairs, you don’t think as you get into your pyjamas, you only stop when you’re tucked up into bed. And even then you find it hard to think.

You won the bet. Jimin took Izzy home. Jimin had sex with Izzy.

You want to scream, cry, punch something. But they all feel like emotions you shouldn’t be feeling, because Jimin wasn’t really yours. You’d slept together a few times, had become more than just the friends that you were a few weeks ago, but that was it. Jimin wasn’t your boyfriend. Neither of you had discussed being exclusive. He was allowed to sleep with other people. But it still hurt like hell.

You’d expected this. You’d predicted this from the start. You had always wanted Jimin, but always worried that he was too much of a ladies' man to settle down the way that you wanted. And that night when you slept together, you had worried whether you should even sleep with him, because you knew that your heart was in it too much for it to be a one-night thing.

And yet you’d done it all. You’d slept with him, you’d given him your heart, and you felt like he returned that, if only just a small portion. But this seemed to just prove all your instincts right. You should have prepared better for this, because you knew it was coming, it wasn’t a matter of if but when. As much as you tried to convince yourself that you were wrong, Jimin never felt the same way you did. You just wish he’d at least spoken to you first, you thought he was at least that decent.

It felt like your heart was split down the middle. Like it was bleeding out, and you had no equipment or knowledge of how to stop it. You feel like you’re drowning in it as you lie in your bed, it all seeping out of you.

Your phone dings with the noise of an incoming text, and you know who it is before you look at your phone. Still, you twist to read it.

Jimin: You ok? Jin said you felt rough so left? You should have waited and I would have walked you home x

Tears prick your eyes as you read the message, as if even the sight of his name is too much. He was being sweet even now, offering to walk you home and checking if you felt ok, and you don’t know whether it pains you or makes you angry. Also, just walk you home, not take you home and look after you, the message seemed clear.

Still, you don’t want to talk to him about the real reason you left, even if it involved him, and you should definitely talk to him about it. Texting wasn’t the right way, and you didn’t feel like now was the right time. You needed to process what had happened before you ask Jimin about it. Though you are pretty sure both are just shitty excuses, so what, you could choose to be selfish in this moment.

Y/N: Dodgy tummy, haven’t felt quite right all day and all just got a bit much. Didn’t want you to miss the quiz.

You should feel guilty about lying, but you don’t. Almost immediately the message is read as if he was sat with your messages open, and then the three dots appear.

Jimin: You should have said :( Let me know if you still feel bad tomorrow and I’ll come look after you xx  

You close your eyes as you read the message, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

Y/N: Will do, thanks.

You lock your phone and push it onto your night stand even when you hear another ding showing he’s replied.

Your heart continues to ache, your brain feels like it’s on fire, but you still close your eyes to at least attempt to get some sleep. As you could have predicted, you don’t manage to sleep much.

You wake to more messages from Jimin, messages of concern and offers to look after you. You actually do feel like shit in the morning too, a lack of sleep and a broken heart can do that to a person. So much so, that you call in sick for the day. You feel a tad guilty, but you also know that if you had gone in you would just be a mess, and more of a hinderance then a help. It would be better to take the day off, have a three day weekend and start fresh Monday.

You manage to bat away most of Jimin’s texts, excuses of being contagious and feeling like death not actually doing much to stop him, if anything they seem to worry him more. Still, you don’t let on the real reason you feel like shit. And still, he doesn’t tell you about Izzy.

It’s Sunday evening when the doorbell rings. You feel slightly better than the Thursday night. But still, you don’t think much as you walk towards the door.

Pulling open the door Jimin stands facing you. You should have expected it, but part of you is still surprised to see him. Just the sight of him makes your heart rate pick up and your fight or flight instincts start to kick in. But as if expecting you to run, Jimins hand shoots out to stop you closing the door on his face.

“Wait,” he says, eyes pleading. “I just came to talk.”

You stop, fully taking him in, and realise he looks like complete shit. Well, as complete shit as it’s possible for Jimin to look. His hair, that’s normally perfectly styled, looks slightly greasy as it falls limply around his face. His eyes look blood shot and there are dark circles under them, as if he hasn’t been sleeping. Even his clothes are creased and dishevelled. He looks awful, he looks slightly ill, he looks so unlike Jimin.

“I just want to talk. And if you still want me gone, then I’ll go, no questions asked,” he tries again when you fail to reply. “Please, Y/N. Just give us 5 minutes to talk.”

5 minutes was almost laughable. You knew that wouldn’t even get you through the awkward small talk or the deadly silence, that would surely come before you both started to open up. But you still open the door wide enough for him to walk past you. He shoots you an appreciative look as he shuffles into your house and as you close the door you inhale a breath to try and steady your nerves. You were expecting this conversation, but it was happening a lot sooner than you thought.

You follow him into your living room. The space feels so much different with him in it, and different still from when he used to come before everything blew up. It used to feel like he made the space more alive, as if he somehow completed it, but now he just feels like a looming, dark figure. But that’s probably more to do with your emotions towards him.

You both sit down on the sofa, a visible gap between your bodies, where once there would have been none. Jimin stares at it, his eyebrows pulled together as if it’s a science experiment he is struggling to understand. You look at him, hands in your lap as you try to refrain from fidgeting.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He is the first to speak, straight to the point, no skirting the subject.

“I’ve not ignored you,” the words fall flat even to your ears and Jimin gives you a beat to carry on and when you don’t he sighs.

“I don’t know what’s happening. You need to talk to me Y/N,” his voice is pleading with you as he looks up at your face and you can barely return the stare. You know the second you do you’ll break, you are barely holding yourself together as it is. “Just tell me what I’ve done.”

“You’ve not done anything,” you whisper out.

Another sigh, and from the corner of your eye you can see him shaking his head. This isn’t fair on him, you realise, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say it, to look him in the eyes and spill your heart out. You’d done it once before, and he’d shown you how much that meant. After all, surely he knows what he’s done.

“If this – if we, mean anything to you, then you’d talk this out with me,” he says and your head finally snaps to him.

He was guilt tripping you into telling him. He knew how much he meant to you and he was using that against you. It made you angry as hell.

“Don’t pull that shit on me,” you say, your voice coming out strong for once. “Don’t come here and tell me that we are anything, when you clearly don’t think we are.”

You can see in the way his eyes search your face that he still doesn’t know what you’re talking about. It halts you on your path, because surly he wasn’t dim enough to not put the dots together by now. Still, the anger and sadness that had been building up within you for days finally starts to spew out of you, and you find it hard to contain it now the dams are starting to fall.

“I wish I could take it all back; the kisses, the secrets I told you, the sex. Were you just laughing behind my back the whole time?” Jimin seems too shocked to reply, which only spurs you on. “I trusted you Jimin, and I really, really liked you. But you’ve made me feel like an idiot. I wish I’d listened to myself from the start, because then none of this would have happened, because I would have known that you wouldn’t stick around, that you wouldn’t change, that you’d just go for the next best thing to come along. I at least thought you’d wait a bit longer, that you’d tell me, talk to me before doing anything with someone else because -”

“You think I’ve slept with someone else?” Jimin cuts you off even though his voice is weak, and again, part of your brain starts to ring warning bells.

“Ye - Yeah,” you stumble on your words, feeling wholly unsure, but trying to convince yourself that you are sure. “Izzy. You met her, or invited her, to that work conference and took her home.”

The fact that you have to explain this to Jimin, the man that supposedly did it, is laughable. But the room is deadly silent after the words are spoken. You watch as Jimins face goes from realisation to shock and finally settles on anger. You blanch under the look he gives you, but remain as strong as you can in front of him.

“Yeah, I took Izzy home. Because she was fucking black out drunk and her friends had left her, and fuck. I took her home. To her home. Alone,” a small, humourless chuckle leaves Jimins lips as he runs a hand through his hair and it suddenly starts to catch up to you how much you have fucked up.

This is what happens when you jump to conclusions on your own and don’t talk them through. This is what happens when you assume something. This is what happens when you run away from your fears.

“But, Jin said...” your voice trails off, unsure what your point was going to be.

Another humourless laugh escapes Jimin and it makes your stomach drop to look at him like this. You thought the broken Jimin you saw at the door was bad, but this dark and angry Jimin was so much worse. Especially because you knew you were the cause of it all.

“Fucking Jin,” Jimin mumbles under his breath, and then carries on, voice back to its normal tone. “So this is why you’ve been pushing me away? Because you think I slept with someone else?”

“I - yeah,” you say, unsure what else you can say.

“After everything I said? After I told you how I felt about you? You really think I would do that to you?”

Your leg starts to bob as the words pierce through you like knives. He was being fair, but it felt mean.

“I mean, it did seem like something you’d do,” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.

“What does that mean?”

You sigh. And maybe part of you was still angry with him, maybe you felt like you’d already lost it so it didn’t really matter what you said now, maybe your heart hurt so damn much that you wanted to make his hurt just a fraction of that, or maybe you were just so damn tired. Whatever it was, it didn’t really excuse what you say next.

“You’ve never been interested in me before Jimin, so why would you be now? You go through women as if they’re about to go extinct. Why wouldn’t I think it was true? Why wouldn’t I think you’d not told me when you slept with someone else?”

He looks like a wounded animal as he regards your words, fully taking in every syllable. From the look on his face, you want to wrap him up in your arms and tell him you didn’t mean it. But both of you sit in the silence and remain on your designated sides of the sofa.

Slowly, as if his body is finally catching up to his brain, Jimin shakes his head. You brace yourself for the words that he is inevitably about to shoot your way.

“Of course you think that about me. You’ve always thought that about me. I’m not an idiot Y/N,” the fact that his voice comes out soft only makes you feel worse. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to tell anyone about us. As if I was some dirty secret. You’re the one that didn’t want to come with me to my work conference, even though I wanted you there, you acted like you couldn’t think of anything worse than being seen with me in public. You’re the one who clearly couldn’t trust me, to jump to the conclusion that of course I slept with someone else. Who flinched and acted like we were nothing whenever I touched you in public. Who couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me when you thought I’d done something wrong.”  

Hearing him list everything that you’ve done to him over the few short weeks you’d been together seems to make something click in your head. You were the one that treated him like shit. That’s why he had seemed so off with you these past few days, not because he felt guilty about sleeping with someone else, but because he was wondering about you and your feelings towards him.

“What was this Y/N? Because I was all in, I wanted to tell people, I wanted to be exclusive. And I respected you when you asked me not to tell anyone because I thought you wanted to take things slowly, not because you were scared to tell people that you were dating me.”

He says the final word as if he is something unworthy, something people would be disgusted by. And you want to tell him that he is wrong, that you didn’t think that, that what he said is untrue and you didn’t do any of it. But you don’t say anything, because he’s right. He’s right that you didn’t want to tell anyone because you worried what they’d say. He’s right that you didn’t want to be seen intimate with him in public, you had in fact flinched away from his touch just the other week when Jin came back to the table with drinks and you realised you weren’t alone when Jimin was kissing your hand. He’s right that you don’t fully trust him, because when you heard about him and Izzy you immediately thought the worst, you didn’t even ask him about it, you went straight to worst case scenario.

You weren’t the victim here, far from it, and yet that’s what you’ve been acting the past few days. And while you had been living in a Jimin bliss over the last few weeks, he must have been second guessing everything, wondering if you really liked him, or why you didn’t want to tell people you were seeing him.

“I really like you Y/N,” Jimin says when you remain silent. “But I can’t be with someone that can’t trust me, that can’t even talk to me about what’s going on inside their head.”

Tears start to form in your eyes as you realise what’s coming, but you hold them back. You could cry later, you didn’t want to do it now in front of him.

“But maybe it’s best we just leave this here?”

And just like that your heart shatters. You finally had something that you’d dreamed of for years, and within weeks you had thrown it away. Your heart pangs out in pain, but you don’t disagree with him. Even though he posed it as a question, you knew it was meant to be rhetorical. He’d made up his mind.

He must take your silence as compliance because then he’s standing up.

“See you at the pub quiz?” He says lightly, trying, and failing, to mask the pain he must be feeling.

It’s almost laughable how he can even say that, as if the last 30 minutes didn’t just happen, as if you aren’t falling apart in front of him. But when you look at him, you realise he’s hurting just as much as you are. So with all the strength you have you stand up next to him.

“Yeah,” you manage to say as you look at him, your voice unusually level.

You both walk in silence to the front door and there’s an awkwardness between the two of you that you have never felt before, and you wonder how you’ll ever recover from this. Opening the door, you watch as Jimin leaves your house and starts to walk down the road away from you.

“Jimin,” you say when he isn’t too far away, making him stop and look over his shoulder. You think you see tears glistening in his eyes, but he’s too far away for you to be sure. “I really like you too. Like really like you. And I’m so sorry, for everything.”

It doesn’t feel like enough. You want to run after him, to crash down on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. You want to leap into his arms and keep him hostage. But you just stand and stare at him from your door and watch as he nods lightly before continuing to walk away.

You have four days before you have to see him again at the pub quiz, and you don’t use that time wisely. Even though you know that everything Jimin said was true, you still wallow in self-pity. Even more so now, because you only have yourself to blame for everything.

Jimin doesn’t text you, and you refrain from texting him. Though it seems like everything that happens to you is screaming at you to contact him. A joke you hear someone say as you pass them on your walk to work that you know Jimin would find hilarious. A special offer on a jumper that was literally made for him. A new trailer for the film you had talked about wanting to see together the other week. Every time one of them occurs you naturally get your phone out and go to open your messages with him, only to realise you aren’t speaking.

Steph had also guessed something was up, but because you had never explicitly told her that anything was going on, you now didn’t explain what was wrong. But just like she had guessed that you and Jimin were in fact seeing each other, she now guesses that you depressed moods are because of him. Again, however hard you tried to hide things from her, she always knew.

She didn’t pester or hound, but merely suggested that you should talk to him and tell him how you feel. And you knew you should too, you had gotten yourself into this mess, you might be able to get yourself out. But just like before, you worry. Worry that you’ll only make things worse, that though you still want more, it might just be better to do what he said and leave things here. Maybe the two of you were only supposed to be friends.

It felt like the days both dragged and flew in anticipation for the pub quiz. It makes you feel a bit sick the thought of seeing him there. But you won’t back out of it, no, because that would be like a flag declaring that you are not ok, that your friendship is not ok and might ruin everything between you going forward. You are trying to view the pub quiz as a fresh start, and having it on neutral territory would make it ten times easier. In theory anyway.

Jimin had made it clear that he was going to the pub quiz by saying that he’d see you there when he left. If he was going, you had to go.

You wake with nerves bubbling in your stomach on Thursday morning. You try and fail to supress them all day. Can barely eat any food, all of it feeling dry and making it hard to swallow. You struggle to focus on your work, your mind constantly running over possible scenarios that might happen later. Steph silently but sincerely helps you all day, making you cups of tea and talking about nonsense to take your mind off things.

But however much you try to put it off, the time comes where you have to leave your house.

You can’t decide whether it would be better to be the first to turn up or the last. So you decide to just leave at your normal time. You semi thought about texting Jimin to ask if he wanted to walk with you to the pub, but the thought of having to come up with conversation for the short 10 minutes alone, was enough to decide that it was a bad idea. At the pub at least you’d have the others as some sort of buffer.

You walk into the pub with only 5 minutes until the quiz is about to start, that was cutting it fine even by your standards. But looking over at your normal table you see everyone but Jimin has arrived. Your nerves continue to flutter in you as you head to the table.

“The prodigal child has returned,” Jin shouts as you near the table, a few heads from other tables turn to look and you heat with embarrassment.

“I am indeed back, though I only missed the answers last week, so I’m not sure you can say I ever really left,” you say as you finally reach the table and take one of the empty seats.

Jin hums before speaking. “The answers are the best part though.”

“Right, well shall I just leave now, and come back for the answers?” You say flatly.

“Nope,” Jin pops the p, leaning back in his seat. “You better stay. As little as you bring to the team, I think we may do worse with just three people.”

You ignore the insult and do the maths. If you left there would only be three people? Not four? So that meant...

“Jimins not coming?” Your voice comes out flat, but you’re glad there is at least no emotion to betray you.

“People are dropping like flies from this quiz. First Joon, then you, now Jimin,” Jin carries on.

“I’m here,” you say weakly.

“It’s called getting your priorities straight Y/N. This quiz should be top of our priorities. At least me, Connie and Yoongi seem to know that.”

“I was ill,” your voice is once again weak and you know you’re not convincing anyone.

“Just like Jimin is this week,” Jin gives you a knowing look that has you withdrawing back into your seat.

“I – well – I,” you stutter.

“I’m joking Y/N,” Jin says letting out a small squeaky laugh that you don’t react to. “It’s nice to have you back. And I’m sure Jimin isn’t gone for good, only a week or two.” He says the words more sincerely and you give him a small smile even though your heart aches.

You can’t concentrate throughout the whole quiz, you had expected you’d be like this, but you thought it would be due to Jimin's presence not his absence. You manage to at least pretend to be involved, giving the occasional answer to the obvious questions you know, giving half-hearted laughs when everyone else does, getting in the round of drinks. But you truly just want to leave, go home and get into bed. You wish you hadn’t come at all.

You really hadn’t thought twice that Jimin wouldn’t be here, not just because he had said so when he had left your house that night, but also because surely you hadn’t hurt him this badly? Sure, you had been wallowing in self-pity for the last few days, if not the last week since thinking Jimin slept with Izzy, but you had come to the pub quiz even when you hadn’t wanted to. You didn’t know for sure that he wasn’t actually just ill, but you were pretty sure that was bullshit. He wasn’t here because of you.

Even Jin had implied it, Jimin would only be gone for a week or two, who says that when they think that person isn’t here because of illness? What illness lingers that long if not something serious that you would have heard about? You were sure that everyone around the table knew about what you and Jimin were up to, if not for the awkwardness when they told you about Izzy, then for the concerned looks they keep shooting you tonight. Yep, Jimin definitely wasn’t here tonight because of you, because of what you had done to him, because you had broken his heart.

And even after he had said as much the other day when he turned up at your door, it only feels like it hits you now. Jimin had been as all in as you, if not more, because he had wanted to tell people, he had wanted to flaunt you around, he didn’t care what people thought because he was with you and that’s all that matters. That’s all that should have mattered. All this time you had thought it was just you that held all the feelings, that you were falling too quickly and too deeply and that Jimin would break your heart. And all this time it had been the complete opposite.

You’re only vaguely aware that the quiz has ended and you’re now in the break before the answers are read out. You may as well have not come for all the help you’d been. You’d not even added anything to the social side of the night, if anything you’d probably taken away some of the fun.

“Jimin’s really upset about what happened.”

You look up to Yoongi sat opposite you, Connie had excused herself for the toilet and Jin was currently stood at the bar waiting to be served, leaving just you and Yoongi at the table. Something must have shown on your face as he lightly curses before carrying on.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that he really likes you,” he tries to amend.

“I think you mean liked,” you don’t mean the words to be such a jab, but you blame your foul mood. Yoongi just rolls his eyes.

“Have you spoken to him?”

“He came to mine on the weekend,” you shrug and swallow the emotions that rise in your throat. You really didn’t want to cry right now, but just the thought of Jimin stood on your door step brought the emotion up within you.

“Yeah, I meant since then,” Yoongi says.

“Why would we?”

“Oh, I don’t know, to talk about whatever is going on? To get your feelings out in the open? To stop being such idiots?” The sarcasm drips off every word.

“Jimin made his feelings towards me perfectly clear when he last spoke to me.” You don’t question how Yoongi seems to know so much about the situation you found yourself in, and even though you aren’t exactly asking for help (if anything you’re almost pushing him away), you want to know what he thinks on the matter.

“Did I mention the idiots part?”

“Once or twice.”

Yoongi lets out a small sigh as he regards you. You merely hold his stare as he leans into the table, getting an inch or two closer to you.

“Do you want to know why I bet that Jimin would never take Izzy home?”

His comment throws you off guard, confusion sweeping across your face as your mind tries to catch up. By the time you finally realise that he’s talk about the bet from weeks ago (again), the one where everyone bet when Jimin would bed Izzy, the one which you supposedly won which led you into your current mess, Yoongi is already talking again.

“It’s because I knew he, or at least expected, that he would never take her home, because of how he felt about you. You may look at him with heart eyes Y/N, but he looks at you the same way. The respect and pure adoration in his eyes if clear to everyone but you, and that’s only because you’re an idiot that doesn’t think she’s good enough for anyone.”

“Do you want to call me an idiot one more time?” A small gummy smile breaks out on Yoongis face at the fact that you’re back to joking, but your mind only seems to pound more with the new and confusing information.

“Jimin likes you Y/N, not liked.”

“But, Becky,” are the only words that manage to escape your mouth. The barmaid that he had gone out with a few months ago, the one who had changed her shifts so that she didn’t have to see Jimin at the pub quiz.

“I don’t know enough about that, but that was months before you, and maybe he felt the same way as you; that you were out his reach and would never be an option.”

You nod your head at his words, it was months ago, and it didn’t really bother you. Even if Jimin had held a flame for you back then, you wouldn’t have expected him to be celibate while waiting for you. You certainly hadn’t been for him. It had started before Yoongi started talking, had started when you realised Jimin wasn’t here because of you, but the more Yoongi talks the more it feels like the puzzle pieces start to click into place.

“You should talk to Jimin,” Yoongi almost eggs you on, as if seeing into your mind.

Your eyes are wide as you look at him. As if the words are the epiphany you needed. And as you push your chair back and leap to your feet, you see Yoongi jump in surprise. Maybe he hadn’t meant you need to speak to Jimin literally now, but you couldn’t wait any longer.

Jin comes back to the table at this moment, placing the drinks down on the table he looks at you with a confused but concerned look.

“I have to go,” you say to him in explanation, looking down at Yoongi hoping you convey that you wanted him to explain what was going on, and also that you were thankful to him. The wink he gives you is enough for you to grab your bag and bolt out of the pub.

“Are you not staying for the answers again?” Is the last thing you hear Jin shout as the door closes behind you. You don’t even look back. You almost run to Jimins door. It's further than your house, but not by much, especially when you don’t take the detour past yours like he always does.

You don’t think as you head towards his door. You don’t consider what you’re going to say to him, you don’t come up with a speech or think of a list of all the ways you’ve fucked up. You just think about getting to his door, and the rhythm of your feet stepping one in front of the other, and before you know it, his door looms before you. Even then, you don’t stop, don’t give yourself time to catch your breath or your wits as you knock on his door.

It almost exactly reflects what happened on the weekend, but now you’re the one knocking on Jimins door, and you’re pretty sure that while you almost definitely look as shit as he did, you probably also look a bit deranged. The way you fidget waiting for the door to open, your nerves causing a craziness to glint in your eyes, your hair a mess from the windy walk; you definitely don’t look as good as Jimin does when in distress.

All of this starts to deflate, as you try knocking again, this time a bit harder, but still after a few seconds no one answers.

He knows it’s you, and he’s choosing to ignore it, you think as you stand looking at the outside of his door. The egg green paint on the door almost laughs in your face as you stare at it. It feels like it’s mocking you for being so stupid to think that he would give you the time of day. You had a chance to try and fight for him when he was at your door and you’d thrown it away by saying nothing. What made you think he’d give you a chance now?

Your fidgeting stops, shoulders sag, the hope from walking here dissipates into the air. You shouldn’t have left it so long. You’d thrown your chance away when you didn’t run to him that night you watched him walk away from your house.

Deflated, you turn and start the seemingly long commute back to your own house. But as you walk down his front path and reach his gate, you hear the noise of a lock turning. Pausing at the end of his drive, you turn back to the door, a new hope sparking within you.

Slowly, as if building for a dramatic unveiling, Jimins front door opens. And stood behind it, as if by magic, the man himself stands. Again, you have to wonder how someone can look so good while also looking so utterly shit. He’s in some light grey sweats, his hair a fluffy mess, his eyes slightly puffy as if he’s recently cried. You want to run and sweep him into a massive hug and beg for his forgiveness, but you both stay still like statues, eyes boring into each other.

“You didn’t come to the quiz,” you aren’t sure he can hear the words as he stands around 5 meters away, and your voice comes out soft. You hope he doesn’t hear the stupid words that slip out of your mouth, this is why you should have planned a speech on your walk here.

“Didn’t feel like it,” he shrugs.

Tentatively, you take a step back past his gate. It doesn’t close the distance between the two of you by much, but it feels like you’re universes closer.

“Jimin,” his name comes out like a sigh as emotion rises within you. You push it all down, you needed to get all of this out before you got too emotional to speak. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He continues to stare at you in silence, as if waiting for you to continue, to explain. So you do.

“I’m an idiot. You once said I’m smart, but I’m not, I’m the most stupid, idiotic, brainless, moronic person to ever exist. Because I had you, I had you, and I threw it all away like the foolish person I am,” you take a breath to steady yourself, and you think you see a small smile playing on Jimins lips, but your too far away to be sure, and you don’t allow yourself to hope. “Because I meant it when I said I like you Jimin, like really like you. In fact, I think I might love you,” you don’t stop as you say the words, don’t even think about how much of a declaration they are, because you realise they’re true and you’re no longer afraid to admit it.

Your confidence grows as the words continue, and as you talk you start to slowly walk towards Jimin. “I’m not saying this to get your forgiveness, I don’t deserve that. I’m saying it so you know the truth, because that’s what you deserve. I was so scared, scared that you’d break my heart, scared that I wasn’t good enough for you, scared that I was falling for you too deeply. And that made me do some stupid things without thinking. I should have talked to you rather than taken all this on on my own, I should have told you how I felt, because as scary as that felt, at least then you would have known.”

By the time you finish you’re stood back on his doorstep. There’s still a good half a meter between the two of you, but you can at least see his face more clearly now. He gives nothing away as he looks at you, face emotionless as his hand rests on the door, ready to close it on your face at any given second.

A few seconds pass in silence, and you wonder if he’ll ever talk. You meant it when you said you didn’t come here for forgiveness. You didn’t expect it and you didn’t deserve it.

“You were wrong,” you said, and his eyebrows flinch upwards, the first sign of any emotion. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you or because I thought you were capable of doing it. It was because I thought you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.”

His eyes flick across your face, eyebrows pinched together.

“Why would you think that?” His voice is gravelly, as if he hasn’t spoken in days.

You laugh at him. “Have you looked in the mirror?”

“I could say the same to you,” he replies. “I thought I made it clear what I thought of you, what I thought of your body.”

You flush at the memories of just how he had shown you how much he had liked your body. You don’t know how to reply, but are saved of coming up with an answer when Jimin speaks.

“You really hurt me,” his throat bobs as he swallows, and your heart aches for him.

“I was shit,” you agree.

“And I’m not sure I can forgive you.”

“I don’t expect you to,” you whisper.

“But, I’m willing to try.”

Your eyes widen, heart speeding up as if it’s trying to escape your chest.

“What?”

“You love me?” The smile you thought you saw earlier starts to show on his face again. “And you’re moronic?”

“I – I – I was really dumb,” you stumble on your words.

This time he’s the one that closes the gap. Leaving the door open, he steps away from it towards you. You have to look up to keep looking into his eyes.

“But, you love me?” He repeats, his teeth now showing as he smiles.

“I love you,” you say it with everything you have, with every fibre of your being. “I love you so fucking much.”

His hands come out to grab your waist, and as he leans down, his hands pull you into him. The gap is finally closed, his lips press against yours, hot and fast.

“You have a lot of making up to do,” he says against your lips before kissing you again and you can only hum against his lips.

“What do you suggest?” You say when he lets you breathe.

“I have a few suggestions,” he says, before again reconnecting your lips.

“I’m ready to start when you are,” you say.

He laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards his door.

“I’ll be happy to show you what I want,” he says as he pulls you through his door.

“Question 8.”

It’s been 3 weeks since the night you told Jimin you loved him. It took him a few days, but he finally returned the words. As promised, he made you work for his forgiveness, but he said you had finally achieved it. You weren’t convinced, you would never be able to forgive yourself for any of it and you were willing to work forever to make it up to him and to show him just how much you trust and love him.

You finally told everyone too. Straight after you had your first round of making it up to him, you text the group chat (the one with Jimin in), and shared the news. Unsurprisingly, everyone already knew, but they still feigned surprise, and were ultimately happy for you.

Nothing much has really changed. You don’t know why you were so scared, because life with Jimin was bliss, but life with Jimin and everyone knowing you’re together was heaven. Even sat at the pub quiz, his hand linked with yours on the table, felt so small, yet it felt natural and like home.

“Question 8,” the quiz host repeats as everyone quietens down. “Cher saved what lonely animal from a zoo in Pakistan?”

“Was it you Yoongi?” Jin says, struggling to keep a straight face as he looks at the man.

You let out a small chuckle at the words, but instantly go quiet from the look Yoongi shoots you. You think Jimins hand might even tighten around yours protectively.

“I’m going to pretend that that was one of your silly jokes, and you weren’t either comparing me to a caged animal, or worse, comparing me to a lonely elephant,” Yoongi says the words remarkably calmly to Jin.

“Oh, I was definitely comparing you to an elephant,” Jin says deadly serious.

You think Yoongi might punch Jin, but instead he looks down at the answer sheet and scribbles something down. Jin picks up his drink and gives you a wink. You will forever question how their relationship works.

“Question 9. Joe Exotic became famous as the Tiger King in a Netflix original show, but who made a documentary on him years before in 2011? That’s, who interviewed Joe Exotic years before Netflix?”

“Dave Attenborough? Tiger King is pretty close to Blue Planet, and Attenborough is pretty ahead of his time,” Jin says.

“Somehow I can’t see David Attenborough interviewing Joe Exotic,” you say.

“Shame, it would have made one hell of a show,” Jin replies and you can’t disagree.

“Come on, name some famous interviewers or documentary makers,” Yoongi taps the pencil on the table.

“Stacey Dooley?” You suggest gaining your own eye roll from Yoongi.

“Ross Kemp? Now that would have been a great show,” Jimin says.

“Simon Reeves?” You try again.

“Are you even trying Y/N,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Hey, I’m trying. And I don’t see Jimins suggestion getting this treatment,” you snap at him.

“It’s because Ross Kemp was a banging answer,” Jimin says, squeezing the hand again to show he’s joking.

“Are you guys serious?” Connie cuts across your talk, causing all eyes to go to her. “You really don’t know the answer?”

You can almost see the excitement in her eyes at the prospect of knowing something that no one else does. You just hope this isn’t a repeat of a few weeks prior, when she in fact did not know the answer.

“I seriously don’t know the answer,” Yoongi prompts, while everyone else remains silent, waiting for Connie to speak.

“But it’s so obvious. Like, it’s so famous and they did a revisit to it because of how popular the Netflix show was. I can’t believe you guys don’t know.”

“Well you better believe it, because I also have no inkling,” Jin chips in.

“God, I just can’t get over that I’m the only one that knows this,” Connie carries on.

“This better be right,” Yoongi sighs, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he watches Connies excitement.

“Louis Theroux,” Connie finally says and you all groan with realisation. It seemed so obvious when it was spelt out. “God, I’m never going to forget this,” Connie beams at you all.

“The day you catch Jin not knowing an answer is a day to mark indeed,” Jin says before taking a swig of his drink. You’re unsure why he’s talking in third person, or why he’s acting like it’s not a weekly occurrence that he doesn’t know any answer, but you feel so happy that you can’t help but also beam at him.

“And finally, question 10,” the quiz master booms. “How many letter tiles are in a game of scrabble? That’s letter tiles in a game of scrabble. Another great week guys, don’t forget drinks and snacks before the answers.”

“Is it not 26?” Connie says.

“No, it’s not how many letters in the alphabet, but how many tiles,” Jin says, and Connie lets out an ah, though still doesn’t look convinced about what the question is. Back to the old Connie so soon. “I have no idea though,” Jin admits.

“Well, you’ve probably never played anything as intellectual as scrabble Jin, so we won’t expect you to know,” you say.

“Oh, burn,” Jin laughs. “I thought we gathered I’m fun, so scrabble is definitely not on my agenda.”

“Touche,” you smile at him.

“Well now I feel lame for knowing the answer,” Jimin says.

“You know the answer?” You say with wide eyes and realise how that doesn’t help the situation. “I just mean, that’s not lame. In fact, it’s super-hot.”

“Gross,” Jin comments.

“Super-hot?” Jimin smirks at you.

“Yeah, being smart is hot,” you say.

“Well in that case,” Jimin looks at Yoongi. “It’s 100.”

“Yeah, already wrote it down,” Yoongi replies, holding up the answer sheet as evidence, and you nearly die of laughter at the face that Jimin pulls.

You lean into his ear. “Don’t worry, I still think you’re super-hot,” you whisper.

“Gross,” Jin repeats, this time slightly louder.

Pulling away from Jimin you plant a kiss on his cheek, before sitting back in your chair.

You are so undeniably happy in this moment. Surrounded by all the people you love, that you can’t help the smile that falls across your face. Things couldn’t have worked out any better. You will never be so stupid to guess what Jimin is thinking without talking to him first. You will always trust him, and always love him with your whole heart. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

“You know, I think we have smashed it this week,” Jin says. “Who needs Joon on their team after all?”

#park jimin #jimin #jimin bts #jimin imagine #jimin one shot #jimin scenario #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #jimin fics #bts #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts jimin #bts one shot #bts imagine #bts smut #bts scenarios #fic: lets get quizzical

[rubyinasnuggie]

Random Headcanons No One Asked For:

-Both Ruby and Weiss are left handed

--Yang was 100% prepared to tease them about it when Blake very pointedly uses her left hand to write something

--Blake is ambidextrous

--which makes Yang the only right-handed one on the team

--until the fall of beacon oops

-Ren is fully color blind

--once baby Nora figured that out, she made it her mission to explain to him what colors are based on other sensations (sue me I love this trope)

--she describes pink as the quiet comfort they share in each other's presence

--Ren finally sees color for the first time when his semblance upgrades, and he can finally see the pink petals with Nora

-Blake likes to climb on things and find random nooks and crannies to read

--it turns into a game of reverse hide-and-seek when someone needs her: depending on how urgent it is the entire squad will drop everything and look for her

-team STRQ won the Vytal tournament their first year, specifically Summer was the champion

--Yang was more upset about the disqualification than she'd ever admit, because she secretly imagined Summer was out there somewhere watching the tournament, proud of her babies

-Tai pulled himself out of his depression by gardening: having a routine helped him, so he encouraged baby Ruby and Yang to get similar gentle hobbies

-Ruby raises chickens at home

--she very lovingly feeds them corn and calls them her ladies

--Yang affectionately calls them creatures and cluckers and other such rude things to get a rise out of Ruby

-Ruby deeply wants a cow

--this is her one and only retirement dream

--although honestly she can never imagine herself living past her 20s

-Yang struggled with picking a hobby, she gets bored easily and hates the expected

--its only post-Beacon that she understands the benefits of a routine

--thats why she ends up with a ton of chores, just some structure to help her through the day

-Ruby will drink any type of milk, but Strawberry milk is her favorite

-Sun is allergic to bananas but he doesn't know

--he thinks bananas are supposed to be spicy

-Weiss loves sour apple

-Pyrrha loves chocolate almonds

-Yang thinks fish are creepy, she just generally doesn't love the ocean

--she thinks Neptune is a little clown though

-Oscar gets dressed by putting on his left sock, left boot, then his right sock and right boot

--RNJR made it their mission to interrupt him during this just to see him walk around with one boot on

-Ruby likes to bake, it's one of the few solid memories she has of her mom

--one night Weiss was feeling homesick and Ruby taught her how to make mug cakes

--"its probably not that good compared to your cake butler, but it's pretty simple, and I like them!"

--Weiss secretly makes them at least once a week, even back home in Atlas

-Weiss has taken flight lessons, at one point Ironwood really pushed for her to become a pilot in the military

-Blake has a field journal of the different types of Grimm she's encountered

--team RWBY & JNPR have spent several nights sitting in a circle talking and adding to the journal

--while traveling across Anima, Ruby sketched and took notes on all the Grimm she saw, just in case she ever found Blake again

-Weiss collects rocks

--no, not crystals. actual rocks

--shes rarely spent time in the real outside, but whenever she has, she picks up little rocks and puts them in her pocket before anyone can see

-Jaune never actually stopped writing left and right on the bottom of his shoes actually

-Weiss had never been allowed to paint her nails as a kid, she'd always get weekly French manicures instead

--by the second semester at Beacon, Ruby, Weiss, Nora, and Ren would have weekly manicure nights where they'd paint each other's nails

--there were several times they'd rope the rest of the teams into it, especially during the Vytal tournament where they'd write team names on their nails

--during the singles round they'd write Yang on one hand and Pyrha on the other

--"we couldn't make it fit without cutting one of the R's!"

-Pyrrha and Weiss became each other's default plus one's for fancy events, to the point people began to speculate that the two were dating

--Jaune was somehow jealous of them both and it was very confusing to him since he had poor self awareness

-Yang cuts Ruby's hair, but after she lost her arm she lost the fine motor skills to do a good job, so Blake started to do it

-Blake is always there to help Yang with her phantom pains and residual limb pain

--she helps massage Yang's arm while leaning close and purring

--Yang cried the first time Blake did this because she's not used to being taken care of

-Nora never gets sick and is the designated nurse when a bug goes around the teams

--the electricity incident was the first time Nora has ever been bed-ridden

-Weiss took ballet as a child

-Jaune is actually pretty good at the guitar

-Pyrrha is not musically inclined at all its a miracle she managed to do the iconic JNPR shine dance

--jk but actually she's a decent dancer when she has the steps choreographed for her but she has no natural rhythm

-in the last few months before Pyrrha's death, she and Jaune would waltz on top of the roof together

--there were several almost kisses

--maybe a few successful kisses who knows

-there are occasions (obv extremely rare) when Ren actually takes the bulk of the energy from Nora

--this leads to thrilling game nights where Ren makes multiple 40pt remnant-equiv-of-scrabble plays while Nora naps

-Oscar is the only person who can beat Ren in scrabble, although it's very closely matched

-Oscar is amazing at chess and will play it against himself like a little square

-Yang and Ruby are experts at the tabletop war game they play in the library

--9 times out of 10, the winner is one of them

-Oscar is the only one who also knew about Compost King, which was very exciting for Jaune

--Compost King is a common game night activity while they were in Haven because its so hard to say no to Oscar

-Yang is a straight-A student and has always been

-Blake never had any formal education and she finds a lot of the classes incredibly dull or ineffective at teaching the material

--she's always the one convincing Yang to skip a class and lie in the sun-warmed grass with her

--she still gets Bs easily

-Oscar is a very fast reader and will devour any book he's given

--his aunt would frequently bring home books from town just to keep him entertained

-Ruby has suffered from migraines and nightmares her entire life, post-Beacon they only got worse

-Weiss shops at local dust stores whenever she can, even though she could get shipments for free

--however she does have Ron Swanson's "I know more than you" energy when she's shopping

-Blake and Ren will sometimes take naps together

--not cuddling, just occupying the same general space

--wake them up at your own risk

-if Ruby isn't engaged with something, she can start to scatter and dissolve into rose petals

--its a very slow process and someone has always snapped her out of it before she's fully vanished, but Yang is worried about what would happen if no one caught her in time

-Ren is afraid of horses

-Blake hates being cold

-Yang naturally radiates heat cause semblance duh

-Weiss glued the tiniest gravity crystals to the underside of Ruby's bed to ensure it never falls

-JNPR likes to push their beds all together so they can sleep in one big pile

-Nora can only sleep if she's holding someone's hand

Hope u guys enjoyed! These are in no particular order, sorry that I kinda jumped around a lot 😅

Feel free to reblog and add your own ideas and headcanons! ❤

#rwby #jnpr #oscar pine #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #lie ren #rwby headcanons #rwby headcanon #rwby thoughts #bumbleby #renora #rwby redesign #long post #im sorry

[davidpastrsnack]

it’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend - nolan patrick

a/n: here’s a friends to lovers 4+1 with our fav boy loosely inspired by daddy issues by the neighbourhood. but there’s still a splash of smut because you know me lol. hope you enjoy :)

word count: 10.5k

The first time you met Nolan you didn’t know what to think. He was polite, giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to shake your hand, but you couldn’t help but fixate on how quiet he was and his seeming lack of emotion.

Regardless of your hesitation, that was the first time of many that Nolan took care of you. 

You were new to Philadelphia, moving to continue your education and expand your horizons. You had always been one to play it safe, to stay in your comfort zone, but after having your heart broken and being unexpectedly accepted to one of the top graduate programs in your field you knew it was time to challenge yourself and leave behind everything you had ever known.

Well, almost everything, aside from Aubrey, one of your best friends since that first day of kindergarten so long ago. She worked in the city, practically begging you to join her when she found out you were considering the move. Just weeks later, the second bedroom in her apartment became yours and that’s how you met him.

~

one

It was only your third night in Philly and you were still unpacking, a glass of wine sitting on your dresser as you dug through the remaining boxes that were seemingly never-ending. It didn’t seem like this much stuff when you were packing it, but here you were overwhelmed with all of your belongings.

You were humming along to the music, taking it one box at a time as the room slowly came together when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you called, turning to face the door.

“Woah,” Aubrey muttered, “How’s it going in here?”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, “It looks bad but I’m almost there.”

She nodded, stepping into the room and sitting on your bed, “Time for a break?”

You knew what the hopeful smile on her face meant, she had plans for the two of you.

You looked at her with hesitant eyes and she chuckled, remembering how well you knew her.

“I was thinking we could go meet some of my friends?” Aubrey continued, “I’m kind of seeing this one guy and his friends are great. They’re a lot but I think you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Aubrey, I-” You paused, “I really should finish up in here.”

“Come on, Y/N, we have all day tomorrow to finish and you need a break. I feel like I’ve barely even seen you and it’s been three days.”

You let out a laugh at her words, she was right. It felt like your life had been on hold for so long but now you had the opportunity to start fresh, to put yourself out there in a world that had no existing opinions of you.

“Fine,” you groaned, standing up from your spot on the hardwood, “But you have to help me find something to wear.”

“Deal!” Aubrey exclaimed, dragging you out of the room and into her own to go through her closet.

Just over an hour later, you were squeezed into a booth of the bar surrounded by men almost twice your size. Aubrey failed to mention that the guy she was seeing, but not dating as she vehemently claimed, was a Flyer and so were his friends.

You didn’t know what to expect from the group, but it didn’t take long for you to conclude that they were sweethearts, especially Travis, Aubrey’s “friend.” After introducing you to each of them, it felt like you had always been a part of the gang.

The beer and conversation were flowing, the bellowing laughs coming from the table practically feeling the air of the entire bar. You quickly fell into the banter, fitting in right away after growing up with brothers.

“There he is!” You suddenly heard Kevin shout from next to you, “Took you long enough, Patty.”

You looked up from your drink to see the man you could only assume to be Patty, his tall frame towering over you as you sat on the edge of the booth. He was dressed in all black, and his hair was long and frankly, unkempt as it curled around his ears. Even in the dim light of the bar, you could make out his light eyes, the blue piercing you as he finally met your gaze from his seat directly across from yours.

“Nolan, this is my friend Y/N,” Aubrey started, “She just moved in with me.”

Nolan reached out his hand across the table which you happily met, secretly hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy you had gotten since he walked in. He softly smiled as your hands touched, the corners of his mouth barely lifting but just enough.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“You too,” you replied, flickering your eyes to the other end of the table before you caught yourself staring.

You were right away distracted by something Travis was chirping Claude for from this morning’s practice, but something about the man sitting just a few feet away from you was still consuming your thoughts.

You were pretty sure he had already decided that he didn’t like you. He had barely said a word aside from his initial pleasantries, but from then on it was almost like he wasn’t even acknowledging your presence. You didn’t know why you even cared, but there was something about his presence that made you on edge.

“I’m going to get another one,” you blurted out, everyone’s attention shifting to you.

“I’ll come with,” Aubrey declared.

“I’m good, stay,” you responded, giving her a knowing look. She was practically sitting in Travis’s lap, her hands wrapped around his neck while his eyes were stuck on her like she was the only one in the room. Not dating, my ass, you thought to yourself.

You slid off the cushion and headed towards the bar, the air already feeling lighter the further away from the group you got. You loved them, they were great, but it was just so much new at once. You needed a breather.

It was a packed Friday night and you knew it would be a while before you got your drink, so you sat down on the first available stool you saw. You caught the bartender's attention right away, but she was clearly swamped. You sent her a reassuring nod, telling her to take her time. She smiled right back at you, evidently grateful for your patience.

After what felt like barely a minute of waiting, you felt a body slide next to yours, the scent of cheap cologne overwhelming you as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

“Hi there,” he spoke, leaning his weight against the bar top as he boxed you in.

“Hi,” you sighed. To put it simply, you were not in the mood.

“You got a name?”

“I do,” you chuckled in disbelief, turning your body away from his as your eyes scanned the room for anyone familiar. Which of course there wasn’t.

“A snappy one, alright,” he spoke, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Well I’m Brett, what are you drinking?”

“Nothing,” you snapped.

“Oh c’mon, let me buy you a drink,” he continued, either not picking up on your hints or purposely ignoring them.

“I’m really all set.”

Just before he was about to open his mouth to speak once again, you felt his hand rest flat against your back, your body arching away from him immediately at the contact.

“Do not fucking touch her.”

The deep voice echoed in front of you, your vision clouded as your mind raced in a million directions.

“Listen, man, I got this.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” you heard, the vibrations of his voice running straight through your body.

Nolan.

You may have just met him, but that was a body and voice you couldn’t forget.

You had no idea what overcame you, but before you could process what you were doing you wrapped your arms around his torso. Nolan immediately reciprocated, his arm falling across your shoulders and pulling you close to his frame.  

“Just leave,” Nolan asserted, “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. It’s already embarrassing enough that you can’t take no for an answer.”

Your body relaxed against his, Nolan’s words calming your worst fears right away. From your vantage point, you assumed Nolan easily had at least six inches and thirty pounds on him. That seemed to be enough for him, backing away with a faulty glare and disappearing into the crowd.

“Nolan, I-” you stuttered, not knowing what to say, “Thank you,” you finally got out, your voice barely loud enough to hear over the hum of voices.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, his aura still cold.

You were so caught up in the shock of the moment that you hadn’t realized you were still holding each other, and right away you dropped your arm from his waist. Nolan did the same, awkwardly moving to sit on the stool next to you and flag the bartender.

You missed the warmth of his body right away, the spicy scent of his skin in stark contrast to the Axe you could only assume the other one was wearing. You swore you could still feel the ripple of his abs beneath his t-shirt on your fingertips. It was silent for a minute, both of you trying to come up with the right words.

“I really can’t thank you enough. Let me buy this round,” you pleaded, your eyes locking with his.

“Y/N,” Nolan started, your face flushing as your name fell from his lips, “I’m buying.”

You smiled up at him, nodding before looking back down in hopes of hiding the flush you felt creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Can I be honest, Nolan?” You questioned.

“Shoot.”

“Do you not like me? Did I do something? I wasn’t expecting that from you of all people-” you rambled until Nolan cut you off.

“First of all, I would have done that even if I hated you. But no, I like you, Y/N. A friend of a friend of TK’s is a friend of mine.”

You laughed at the last part before you could even process the first. Nolan’s cheeks went red, clearly embarrassed at his cliché phrasing but it didn’t matter how badly he made a fool of himself as long as you were smiling. The way your eyes scrunched and your nose turned up while you laughed was enough to make him forget the day he had.

Your laughter was interrupted by your drinks, the woman leaving you with a knowing smile before she turned away. Nolan and you both stood up ready to head back to the table before he stopped you.

“Friends?” He asked, putting his hand out in front of himself.

“Friends,” you agreed with a grin, shaking his hand before walking back to the group together.

~

two

You dreaded first days.

No matter how old you got, the anxiety of walking into an unfamiliar room full of unfamiliar faces never lessened. But you were ready, you reminded yourself, putting your head up and walking to the classroom like you had been there a hundred times before.

By the time you were walking out after the 90 minutes were up, your heart was pounding and you could feel the tears pricking the back of your eyes as you ran out of the building, not even bothering to introduce yourself to anyone.

The walk from the university back to your apartment was a blur. You couldn’t believe you had made such a poor first impression. You thought you were prepared, you had your notebook ready and all the right textbooks in order, but you somehow missed that there was an assignment due on the very first day.

As you rushed through the busy streets of the city, dodging people left and right, your mind raced back to that room.

“Ms. Y/L/N, can you please give your thoughts on the first case study?” Your professor questioned, intently watching you as your panic set in.

Your heart began to race and your palms sweat as you struggled to find the words to say that you hadn’t done the reading. This had never happened to you before, you were an A+ student for your entire life, almost unhealthily so. You couldn’t remember the last time you had missed an assignment, it just wasn’t something you did.

“Alright, then. Anyone else who actually checked the syllabus have something to say?”

Your professor's words were stuck in your head, playing over and over again when you finally reached your building. Now that you were so close to being in the comfort of your own space you could feel your wheels spinning, the stress and emotion overtaking your body.

Your hands shook as you tried to unlock the door, your body pushing through the threshold when you finally got it open.

“Aubrey?” You called as you walked through the hallway. She had known you for so long and always knew what to do to calm you down. But instead of Aubrey’s bright voice welcoming you back, you were met with silence.

“Where are you?” You muttered under your breath, your voice shaking as the tears threatened to spill over any second. As you turned the corner into the living room, you found three bodies spread across the couch, none of whom belonged to Aubrey.

“Oh,” you sputtered out, surprised to see Travis, Kevin, and Nolan watching a game.

“Y/N!” Travis called out, his infectious smile almost making your tight-lipped frown fade, “Aubrey just ran out for something but she should be back soon.”

You could feel Nolan’s gaze burning into you. You did your best to avoid his eye contact in hopes of hiding your current state from him. He had been nothing but kind to you, but you still felt so exposed standing in front of him, suddenly insecure about your outfit.

“I’m just going to go,” you whispered, pointing down the hall to your room. You felt horrible just ignoring them like that, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to keep up with them right now.

Your bag fell out of your hands almost instantly as soon as the door to your room clicked shut, the sound of your laptop hitting the hardwood floor making you cringe. You collapsed on your bed face first, the emotion you had been holding back for what felt like forever overwhelming you. Your body wracked in sobs as you replayed your embarrassment in a seemingly endless loop.

Nolan knew something was wrong the second he saw you. He may have only met you just a few days ago, but after growing up with two sisters he recognized the signs right away. He had no idea what was wrong, but he did know that you were barely holding it together.

Your head snapped up when you heard a series of soft knocks on your door, “Aubrey?” You asked, your voice rising with hope.

“No, uh, it’s Nolan.”

Your face fell when you heard his deep voice through the wood. You barely knew Nolan, he couldn’t see you like this. You paused for a moment wondering if he would just leave if you didn’t respond, but you could see his shadow through the bottom crack of your door, his feet were planted and didn’t show any signs of moving any time soon.

You silently groaned and picked yourself up, not even bothering to look in the mirror before opening the door because you knew it was not going to a pretty sight regardless. You hastily wiped underneath your eyes, the black of your mascara flaking right off your tear-stained skin. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted the new boy in your life to see you right after meeting you, but you just were friends, right?

“What, Nolan?” You sighed when you finally opened the door.

You didn’t mean to be so stark, but it just came out. His presence overwhelmed you just like it had at the bar a few nights ago. He was leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. The backward hat resting atop his head flattered him perfectly, drawing attention to the tufts of his brown hair curling around his ears and neck.

Nolan stood up straight as soon as he saw you, his eyes softening when his suspicions were confirmed: you had been crying.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he mumbled, his eyes never leaving your own.

The tension in your shoulders released as you looked up at him. He didn’t say anything else, just tilting his head down towards you as he continued to scan your face for any signs of how you were feeling. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about Nolan that made you feel so safe, so secure, like as long as you were with him you could avoid your demons.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No you’re not,” Nolan rebutted, raising his eyebrows as if he was challenging you to lie to him again.

You didn’t say anything, but rather you moved your body to the side and ushered him into your room. Nolan happily obliged, awkwardly standing as he took in his surroundings. Your room was just as he expected, it was minimal, just like his. You didn’t like clutter, everything had a place. It was one way you tried to control the chaos that was your life.

“You can sit,” you spoke, breaking the silence.

Nolan nodded and sat next to you at the foot of the bed. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along his leg, the way his thighs stretched the fabric of his sweatpants making your cheeks flush.

“It was my first day at this new program I’m in and it didn’t go well, that’s all,” you finally sputtered out, staring down at your lap as your hands fidgeted. “I’ve never been good at first impressions,” you added, a gentle laugh escaping your lip as you thought back to your first time meeting Nolan.

“Listen, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Nolan encouraged, “You seem like a pretty great person.”

You scoffed at his attempt to make you feel better, your emotions creeping their way back into your head.

“It was-” you paused, using every fiber within your being to try not to lose it in front of him, “It was bad.”

“C’mere,” Nolan whispered, turning on the bed to face you more and opening his arms, practically begging for your embrace.

You shook your head, closing your eyes as the fresh tears started burning. You were so selective in who you exposed your most vulnerable state to, and you barely knew Nolan. But despite this, you felt such an instant connection with him, and if his overt kindness was any indication, he felt the same way.

You let your final guard down, leaning back and curling into Nolan’s frame. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against him as one hand moved up to your head to rub soft circles into your hair.

“Go ahead and cry,” he hummed, his body gently rocking you back and forth.

You melted at his touch, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the muted orange of his Flyers hoodie the last thing you saw before your eyes shut in sobs. His scent was overwhelming, the mix of his body wash and the leftover cologne lingering on his hoodie flooding your senses. You felt as if you disappeared in his grasp, like the world around you vanished and nothing else mattered.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed, but Nolan didn’t move an inch. He held you like it was the only thing he had to do all day. Once the tears stopped falling and your breathing steadied, you pulled back, instantly flooded with embarrassment.

“Wow,” you chuckled, wiping your cheeks, “I am so sorry, Nolan, I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “We’re friends, remember?” He teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile as he bumped your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“I think we were planning on grabbing some food,” Nolan mumbled, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he spoke, “If you want to come.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, you’re coming. If I have to put up with those two out there so do you.”

You rolled your eyes, but it was the least you could do after what he had just done for you.

“Give me five minutes to look less dead.”

Nolan smiled as you agreed, slipping out of the room so you could change and freshen up.

“What the fuck was that?” Nolan was bombarded by Kevin as he sat back down.

“Nothing,” Nolan mumbled, not in the mood to be questioned about things he didn’t even know the answer to.

“She let you go in there?” Aubrey asked, just having gotten back.

“Yes?” He responded, confused by her question.

Aubrey didn’t bother getting into it and changed the subject instead, but inside she was scheming. She knew you, how closed off you were, but here you were opening up to Nolan like you’ve known him for years. Nothing made Aubrey happier than watching this friendship bloom, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was potential for more.

~

three

Team galas usually didn’t bother Nolan, it was part of the job, but tonight it was the last place he wanted to be. His tux felt too tight, the stuffy conversation with potential sponsors was putting him to sleep, and his date was, to be frank, insufferable.

Nolan had no problem going to an event without a plus one, he and TK were usually the two single guys spending their time causing trouble, but now that Aubrey was in the picture Kevin had decided he had seen enough. So, despite Nolan begging him to leave him alone, Kevin set him up with one of his friends from Boston.

She was just as Kevin described, beautiful and smart, but that was about all. Nolan was calm and reserved, at least until he was comfortable with someone, but she was the complete opposite. Her personality filled the entire room and although he admired her confidence, Nolan was exhausted. He felt like he couldn’t be himself, like he had to work to match her energy.

After what felt like hours of entertaining her and Kevin, Nolan made his escape to the bar. It was the first moment to himself he had, the relief immediately flooding him as he leaned against the counter. He titled his glass to the bartender, silently requesting a refill when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit pants.

Nolan begrudgingly pulled the phone, wondering who it could possibly be. The entire team was with him and it was unlike his family to call him on a Saturday night. But when he saw your name flashing across the screen, his whole demeanor shifted.

“Nolan!” He heard you exclaim, your voice like a breath of fresh air.

“Y/N?” He questioned. You had never called him out of the blue like this before. Nolan nodded to the bartender thanking him before taking his drink and walking out to the empty hallway so he could hear you better. “Everything okay?”

It wasn’t really. You had just come back home from a date, one Aubrey practically forced you to go on. You pleaded to her that you were fine, that you weren’t ready to start dating in the city yet, but regardless, you found yourself sitting across from one of her coworkers at a restaurant downtown.

There was nothing wrong with him, he was nice, but it was evident to you before your drinks were even ordered that this wasn’t going to work. You pushed through the meal, putting on your best fake smile and pretending to laugh at his forced humor. You politely declined his offer to walk you home, instead opting to get an Uber so you could get out of your dress as soon as possible.

Now you were home, your sweats on and hair up with a glass of wine in your hand. The glass quickly turned into almost the entire bottle, drowning your sorrows of another failed date with your favorite red. That’s when you made the mistake of picking up your phone, your fingers scrolling through your contacts until you found the one name you knew would be able to distract you.

“I’m great. I mean I’m not, but it’s fine,” you rambled, your words slurred as you spoke.

For once it was you mumbling and not Nolan. He didn’t know what, but his gut was telling him that something was wrong, he could practically smell the alcohol on your tongue through the phone. After a long pause of trying to figure out what to say, his thoughts were interrupted.

“Come over?” You whispered, “I’m so sick of being alone.”

Nolan’s heart dropped at your words, his eyes blinking shut as he pondered his next move. His eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on his date. She was sitting at their table, Nolan’s empty seat sticking out like a sore thumb, laughing at whatever story of his college days Kevin was regurgitating. He would feel like an ass if he just left, and he would be lying if he said the prospect of an easy lay hadn’t crossed his mind tonight, but you were more important.

“Give me twenty.”

-

Since calling Nolan you had migrated from your bed to the couch, a blanket sprawled across your body while you laid horizontal. The only light in the room was from the TV as one of your comfort movies played. You were barely paying attention, instead zoning out and staring at the lit-up city around you from the window.

Your mindless thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. You threw the blanket off of your body and stood up, slowly dragging your feet across the hardwood as you made your way. But you were nowhere near prepared for what you saw as soon as you opened the door.

Nolan towered over you in the door frame. He was wearing a suit, the soft, grey fabric clinging to his thighs and shoulders perfectly. His long hair was slicked back and tucked behind his ears. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you instantly, the warm aroma making you want to melt into him. One hand was resting in his pant pocket, while the other was carrying a take-out bag from one of your favorite spots.

“Hi,” Nolan quietly muttered, breaking the silence.

His deep voice broke the trance you were in, and that’s when the realization hit you.

“I completely forgot you guys had that thing tonight,” you blurted, the alcohol in your bloodstream clogging your train of thought, “I am so sorry. You have to go back, I feel horrible.”

Your hands came up to your face, hiding your embarrassment. How could you forget? You spent hours this morning helping Aubrey pick out her dress.

“Y/N,” Nolan cooed, his large hands gently pulling your own off of your face, “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Nolan didn’t let you get another word out before he was pushing past your body. He wasn’t even enjoying himself at the event and the last thing he wanted to do was go back.

It didn’t long for the two of you to finish the food, opting to head back to the couch and ignore the many empty containers for now.

“I’m never going on a date ever again,” you slurred, “I don’t even want to look at a man ever again.”

Despite trying to be quiet, Nolan couldn’t hide his chuckle. He had heard similar frustrations from his two sisters growing up. He had been around endless assholes throughout his life, he knew how exhausting it must have been to try to find a decent one.

“Can’t blame you,” he mumbled.

Your body slumped against the back of the couch, your eyes slipping shut as the wine and food started to lull you into a sleepy haze. Nolan scanned your face, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he watched your chest gently rise and fall with each breath. Before he could catch himself, he lifted his hand and pushed back the hair that had fallen in your face, tucking it behind your ear.

In that moment Nolan knew that he was fucked.

Never before had he dropped everything for a girl as he did for you tonight. But he also had never connected with someone like he did with you. You didn’t force him to be something he wasn’t, there was no pressure to put on an act. It just felt natural with you. But your words from just a few minutes before lingered in the back of his head. You made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything right now, it only took one miserable date to remind you of that. So Nolan pulled his hand away, trying to ignore the burning of your skin against his fingertips as they trailed across your soft cheek.

You were friends. Just friends.

-

You had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly you felt yourself stir awake, your eyes peeling open to find yourself tucked into Nolan’s side. His body was warm below yours, his arm resting across your shoulders holding you in place as you lay against his chest. From your peripheral vision, you could see his suit jacket on one of the couch cushions, the soft material of his button-down rubbing on your cheek.

You had two options. You could either acknowledge that you awkwardly fell asleep on him in your drunken state, or you could pretend that you never woke up and continue to enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

Needless to say, you chose the latter.

But you must have dozed off again because the next time you woke up you were being carried into your bedroom. Your arms were wrapped tightly across Nolan’s neck, the tips of your fingers naturally lifting to twirl the tufts of his hair.

“Shhh, I got you,” Nolan whispered as he felt you move, just before he laid you down onto your bed, “I’ll be right back.”

Nolan hastily left the room, leaving you to bask in the memory of his warmth as your head fell back against your pillow. Within just a few seconds he was back, placing a cool glass of water on your nightstand table. But almost just as fast as he came back, he was leaving again.

“Stay,” you murmured, watching him pause at the outline of your door.

“I- I got the couch.”

“Okay,” you responded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Nolan visibly cringed the second your door was closed, his head falling to his lap once he sat down. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with you. The thought of holding you beneath the sheets and feeling your soft skin in contrast to his rough hands made him dizzy. But the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sober enough to say he could stay, and there was no chance in hell Nolan was going to risk scaring you off. So he took the couch, laying across the cushions with his eyes locked on your door until his eyelids gave in to his exhaustion. 

~

four

It was finally Friday, another week in the books. 

Your classes were taking more out of you than you had expected, the hours of reading and note-taking blending together as you finally closed your last tab. You had no plans for the night, and you honestly couldn’t be happier about it. A hot shower, takeout, and falling asleep early encompassed your perfect night recently.

Just as you were about to get in the shower, you were distracted by your phone ringing. You picked it up, surprised to see it was Kevin calling.

“Hi, Kevin,” you spoke, a slight edge to your words. You adored Kevin, he was an absolute sweetheart, but sometimes you just didn’t have the patience.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, “Nothing.”

“Incorrect, you’re coming over and hanging out with me and Pat.”

“I am?” You laughed, taken aback by Kevin’s forwardness.

“Teeks and Aubrey are coming too, come on, Y/N,” he continued.

You knew you weren’t getting out of this without a real excuse, no matter how much you wanted to stay in. You hadn’t seen Nolan since the night you embarrassed yourself, the cringe of drunk dialing him after a bad date had yet to escape your memory.

“What time?”

“Uh- Let’s say 7.”

“Alright, Kev. See you later,” you hung up the phone, throwing it back on your bed before getting in the shower.

-

As you approached the boys’ apartment door, it was quieter than you expected it to be. Aubrey said she was already with Travis and would meet you there, so you were arriving alone. You assumed they would already have been there by now, but you ignored the silence and knocked on the door.

Just a few seconds later, the door swung open and you were face to face with Nolan. Your eyes widened when you saw him, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his bare torso staring at you. You quickly composed yourself, using every ounce of self-control within you to avoid trailing your gaze across his broad shoulders and down his chest, the curves and divots of his abs making your mouth water.

“Sorry,” Nolan mumbled, his cheeks flushing even redder than they usually were, “I thought you were Kevin, he always forgets his keys. Come in.”

You followed Nolan into the apartment, the muscles of his back rippling as his arms swung. You sat down on the couch, awkwardly waiting while he disappeared into his room. He came back just a few seconds later, his body now hidden behind a wrinkly t-shirt.

“Where is everyone?” You questioned, your body stiff as Nolan relaxed into the cushion next to you.

“Not sure,” he mumbled, the red of his cheeks lingering, “Kev said you were coming with Aubrey?”

Your face scrunched in confusion, “He told me she was coming here with Travis.”

Nolan then pulled his phone out and started typing a message to Kevin, desperate to figure out where he was. For some reason being here with you alone was making him nervous, there was an awkward energy in the air that had never been there before.

Nolan was reaching for the TV remote, about to ask you if you wanted to put something on when his phone sounded.

Kevin: You’re welcome

Now it was Nolan’s turn to furrow his eyebrows, the boy even more confused by Kevin’s message.

Kevin: We couldn’t watch you two anymore please just do something

Kevin: I’ll be out all night

Kevin: Don’t forget protection!

Of course. Of course, this little miscommunication was, in fact, a setup. But the worst part was that Nolan knew Kevin was right. No matter how hard he tried, he had been pining over you since that very first night. And now here you two were in an empty apartment with enough sexual tension to last the year.

“No one’s coming, are they?” You broke the silence, snapping Nolan out of his trance.

He threw his phone to the side as a slight smile crept across his stern face, “Nope,” he chuckled.

If you thought there was tension before, it didn’t even compare to what you felt now. Since meeting Nolan you were under the impression that your secretly harbored feelings for him were just that, a secret, but apparently, you weren’t as subtle as you thought. This had Aubrey written all over it, and you knew Travis was under her spell and would do anything to help her, and bonus points for chirping Nolan simultaneously. It was the elephant in the room, your mutual feelings still not being spoken but you both knew you had been called out by the people who knew you best.

“What are you thinking about?” Nolan whispered, the rough hum of his voice sending chills down your spine.

You couldn’t get even a single word out, your thoughts and feelings jumbling in your mind. After all this time the perfect opportunity was finally handed to you on a silver platter, but you still couldn’t do it.

Nolan could sense your hesitation, your close proximity and sweet scent clouding his consciousness.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about,” he murmured, turning his body so he was facing you.

Your eyes had yet to leave your lap, your focus stuck on the rip of your jeans. You jumped when you felt his warm touch on your lower thigh, the warmth of his calloused hands making your heart rate rise even though the thick denim. His size was intoxicating and he made you feel like putty as he leaned closer to you.

“Y/N,” Nolan mumbled, his voice deeper than ever before.

You finally lifted your gaze, turning your head up to look at him. His baby blue eyes were piercing yours, the contact lighting a fire within you. Every reasonable thought in your head was telling you to pull away, to grab your bag and politely excuse yourself. You weren’t ready for a relationship, you had barely put yourself back together after your last heartbreak and Philly was supposed to be different. But as you sat here, your face just inches away from Nolan’s, you gave in to your desire.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you connected your lips with his, immediately sighing in relief as his soft pout worked perfectly against you. You hastily swung your hips over and seated yourself on Nolan’s lap, an eager groan escaping him when your body rolled into his. His hands splayed across your hips, moving to circle your ass as he helped you grind deeper into his already hardening length.

Nolan trailed his lips down your jaw, nibbling and sucking on the plane of your neck. You knew he was leaving marks, but in the moment you couldn’t care less, the euphoria of his touch being the only comprehensive feeling.

“Please,” you whined, tightening your grip on his long locks, “Nolan.”

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had ignited you as Nolan had. He had barely even touched you and you were nearly certain you had already soaked through your panties, withering in his lap desperate for more.

“Now she has something to say,” Nolan teased, whispering into the shell of your ear. He gave you no warning before he was standing up, holding the back of your legs as you instinctually wrapped them around his waist.

Nolan gently tossed you on his bed, pausing to pull his shirt off before he was climbing on top of you. You were in a state of bliss, finally able to admire his frame shamelessly and without fear of getting caught. He continued to attack your neck, leaving mark after mark behind in his wake. You whimpered impatiently as his lips worked your sensitive skin, but Nolan was set on taking his time. He didn’t know if he would ever have you like this again and he was going to savor every second of it.

But you decided to take matters into your own hands, pushing his frame off of yours and pulling your sweater over your head. You grabbed Nolan’s face again, cupping both of his cheeks as your lips met again. He made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease behind your back and tossing it across the room.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he groaned, pausing to take you in. Your hair was splayed across the pillow, your cheeks flushed while your chest heaved up and down with heavy breathing. His praise went straight to your core, clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate for him.

Nolan wasted no more time, finally making his way down your torso before reaching the hem of your pants. His fingertips slowly ran beneath the fabric, stopping only to look up at you. Your eyes locked and you frantically nodded, understanding that he was waiting for your permission before continuing.

“Words, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your thigh, his order gentle but firm.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “Fuck, yes.”

Nolan did as you said, unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. He almost lost his balance on the mattress when he saw you laying before him, the pink lace resting across your hips being the only thing keeping him from you. Nolan settled himself between your legs, hooking both of them over his shoulders as his hot breath fanned over your pussy.

Nolan placed a soft kiss to your lace-covered clit, basking in your reaction as you let out an embarrassingly loud moan and your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair. Your hips jerked up into the air, desperate for more friction. Nolan laid his thick forearm across your waist, his weight halting all of your movements and holding you at his mercy.

“Nolan, please just fuck me,” you begged, the suspense too much to handle as you felt yourself drip down the crease of your thigh.

“All in good time, baby,” he cooed, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting with your throbbing pussy.

You cried out as his tongue flicked your clit back and forth, the pleasure only magnifying when he sucked it between his teeth. Your hands were locked with an iron grip in the roots of his hair, holding on like your life depended on it. Nolan hummed against your core as he continued to taste you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body.

Suddenly Nolan pulled back, but before you could protest you heard ripping. A gasp left your lips when you realized what he had done, the mangled lace of your panties now laying on his floor. You wanted to yell at him, complain that those were your favorite, but before you could get a word out he was back at work, this time fucking his tongue in and out of you.

Your head fell back against the pillow, your mouth opening in a silent scream when you felt him slide two fingers inside while his mouth circled your clit again. Nolan curled his fingers against your sweet spot and you knew you were done for, your back arching off the mattress as you combusted with your orgasm.

Nolan milked you through your high, his tongue flattening against your clit as his head shook and his fingers kept their pace. He finally slowed down as he felt you come down, pulling back to watch you shake as the last waves of pleasure rolled through your body. He slipped his fingers out of your fluttering pussy, only to bring them to his mouth and suck your juices clean.

“You’re really good at that,” you stammered, just now coming back to your senses after almost blacking out.

Nolan laughed, kissing his way back up your body until you two were face to face again. You couldn’t resist pulling him down and crashing your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

“I’m good at other things too,” he smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear, just as he had done last week, except this time he didn’t have to hide it. The soft action made your heart flutter, but his words made something else flutter.

“Give me your best, Patrick,” you challenged.

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

Nolan pushed off his arms and stood up, hurriedly stripping himself of his sweats and boxers in one fell swoop. A whimper escaped your lips when you heard the sound of his cock slapping against his stomach, your pupils dilated as your eyes trailed down his thighs admiring his tattoos. 

Reaching across you to get a condom from his nightstand, Nolan was surprised when you plucked it right from his hand. You tore open the foil and slowly rolled the condom onto him, a small smile spreading across your face when his hips buckled into your hand at your touch.

You may have been embarrassingly weak for him, but he was just as weak for you.

Nolan shifted on the bed so he was hovering over your body, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth. Your lips moved in sync with one another, the pure lust filling the room dictating every movement. He felt you grow more and more impatient, your body stirring beneath his as he finally pulled away.

Taking one last look at you spread out before him, waiting for him to touch you, Nolan directed his attention back to between your legs. He locked eyes with you before collecting the salvia in his mouth, harshly spitting on your pussy. The moan you let out was only amplified when he started teasing you even more, dragging the head of his cock through your soaking folds.

“Nolan,” you whined, the last letter of his name prolonged as you begged, your entire body tensing while he tapped your already so sensitive clit.

“Shhh,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against your hip, “Got to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Before you could get in another word of protest, Nolan was pushing one of your legs into your chest and sliding inside. Your mouth fell open as he slowly bottomed out, the sensation of him filling you paralyzing. A string of deep swears left his lips as he felt you already clenching around him.

After letting you adjust, Nolan started rocking his hips, quickly finding his rhythm. You didn’t have a single thought in your head, the way he hit your sweet spot inside and ground against your clit making you dizzy.

Nolan had never been in such bliss. He could never have imagined how good you would feel wrapped around him, your walls still pulsating from your first high as he slid in and out. The way your name sounded falling from his lips was pure ecstasy, his innate possessiveness in full drive. Your nails dug into his back, dragging burning lines into his skin that he knew he would be tormented about tomorrow in the locker room but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the way your bodies fit together in perfect harmony right this moment.

You could feel yourself growing close within mere minutes, Nolan’s relentless thrusts giving you no mercy. He could tell you were almost there by the way you were fluttering around him, along with the mindless sounds of pleasure escaping your lips getting louder and louder.

“That’s it,” Nolan encouraged in your ear, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Between his hot breath against your tingling skin and his plunging thrusts, Nolan had you seeing stars.

“Nolan, Nolan,” you whined.

You swore you almost blacked out, your vision going blank as he fucked you through your high. He wasn’t far behind you, the clenching of your pussy egging him on until he finally let go, his hips stuttering and groans filling the air as his head fell into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” Nolan sighed, letting his heart rate steady as he laid above you, resting the majority of his weight on his forearms.

“Yeah,” you responded with a breathy laugh, your mind still blank as you came down.

Nolan stayed there for a few minutes before finally sitting up, cringing as you whimpered when he pulled out. Your eyes slipped shut, but you could hear him shifting around the room. After pulling on a pair of fresh boxers and dampening a towel, Nolan gently cleaned you up, biting back a smirk each time you shivered at his touch. He disappeared again, this time returning with a shirt in hand, urging you to sit up so he could help you pull the soft fabric over your head.

You had every intention of getting dressed and leaving, but you just couldn’t find the energy to remove yourself from his warm bed. The sheets that smelled like him enveloped you, and now his t-shirt was draped over your shoulders begging you to stay. Nolan slid next to you, his body cradling yours from behind as he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you impossibly close.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your neck as he settled in.

“Goodnight,” you managed to get out, the shame of what you had just done starting to spiral in your head.

You made a mistake. Nolan was good, so good, and he deserved more than you could give him. Your last relationship ended in disaster, leaving you broken and abandoning the idea of finding love ever again. Regardless of what you told your friends and family, it was what drove you from home. Then came Nolan, he was the definition of kind. Even when he barely knew you he did whatever he could to protect you. That kind of guy deserves someone who’s got it together, not whatever mess you were. You couldn’t believe you let your attraction to him get the best of you, and now here you were, pressed against his sleeping frame as he held you.

Everything inside of you was telling you to leave. It was too much, the eventual pain of whatever this was ending was overwhelming. You could hear Nolan snoring behind you, the sound of his contentment almost bringing tears to your eyes. Gently lifting his arm from its spot across your waist, you slid from underneath his grasp. It was nearly impossible to find your clothes in the dark, but you managed to do so without making too much noise. Nolan didn’t even stir as you moved around him, folding the shirt he gave you and placing it on the nightstand.

Just as you reached for the door, you felt yourself pause. Don’t do it, Y/N. Don’t do it. But you couldn’t resist, slowly turning to take in what you were leaving behind.

Nolan was passed out, his body leaning towards the pillow where you once laid your head and his arm laying flat as if he was still holding you. You could make out the redness of his cheeks in the dim light, his eyelashes curling down onto his cheeks. Your heart broke as you looked at him, but you knew it was what you had to do. He deserved the world, which was much more than you were able to give him. Without giving it another second of thought, you opened the door as quietly as possible and made your escape.

~

+ one

It had been over three weeks since you last spoke to Nolan.

You couldn’t handle facing him just yet, so you did what you knew best: shutting out the people that cared about you the most. You ignored every single one of his calls and texts, eventually muting his number when it became too much. You replayed what you imagined he looked and felt like that morning, waking up to a cold, empty bed. It was heartbreaking, but you stayed firm in your decision. As long as you didn’t have to see his face you would be fine.

But of course, Aubrey had different plans for you.

Since that night, you had been more distant from her than ever before. You left the apartment early in the morning, spending your day in class and bouncing between different coffee shops while working. You kept up appearances when you returned in the evening, saying hello and asking her how her day was, but practically nothing else. You made an early exit to your room, citing homework or lack of sleep as your excuse. But she knew you better than anyone else, it was no secret something was wrong. Much to your content, you could only assume that Nolan was keeping your secret as well, knowing that if he told anyone on the team you would be getting an earful from her.

But Aubrey had decided that she was done letting you sulk about whatever it was you were so clearly upset by. The Flyers had been away for almost two weeks and tonight was their first game back home. Thanks to Travis, she had two tickets in hand ready for the two of you.

Before you had even shut the apartment door behind you after arriving home, she was jumping up to greet you.

“Hey!” Aubrey exclaimed as you walked in, “We’re going out tonight.”

You just stared at her confused, knowing damn well you had no intention of going anywhere. “Hey,” you started, “I- I don’t think so, I have a lot to do.”

“No, you don’t. Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you but I’m sick of watching you wallow in whatever it is. I’ve barely talked to you in almost a month, you’re coming with me,” Aubrey snapped. If there was one thing about having such an old friend it was that she always gave it to you straight.

“Where?” You begrudgingly inquired.

“Nope, it’s a surprise,” she answered. If her inkling was correct, whatever had you in this funk had something to do with a certain Flyers centerman and she was not risking you ditching because of it.  

“Fine,” you groaned.

It wasn’t news to you that you had been a horrible friend recently. Despite the anxiety that came with breaking your current routine, maybe a night with Aubrey was just what you needed to take your mind off everything.

-

A few hours had passed, and you were sitting in the back of an Uber watching the city pass you by. Aubrey maintained the anonymity of the destination, ignoring all of your pleas for even just a hint. But there were some things that she couldn’t control.

Your stomach dropped when you saw where the car was heading towards, the large Wells Fargo Center plastered on the side of the building cluing you in. Of course, you thought, how could you not have known. You had so strictly blocked Nolan and the entire team from your mind that didn’t think to look at their schedule, but now it all made sense.

“Aubrey, no,” you stated, your voice already shaking as you got closer and closer.

“What the hell happened?” she snapped back, finally getting confirmation that your funk was related to Nolan.

“Nothing, nothing happened. I just don’t want to go,” you rebutted, “I’m not in the mood to see everyone, okay?”

“You don’t have to, we’re sitting alone,” she responded, turning her phone on and showing you the location of the tickets. As she promised, they were nowhere near the family boxes.

You didn’t say anything else, instead choosing silence as the car pulled up to the entrance. You both thanked the driver before quickly exiting, a long, awkward silence falling over the two of you as you entered the arena.

You could do this, you told yourself while adjusting in your seat. You could sit through one game, you didn’t even have to see or talk to anyone. If it would make Aubrey happy, you could suck it up and sit down. The two of you had still barely said a word to each other since arriving, and you could see the disappointment on her face. Deciding it was time to get over it, you put your arm around Aubrey, smiling as you instantly felt her relax and place her head on your shoulder. Neither of you said anything, but after knowing each other for so long, you didn’t have to. She knew what you meant.

-

You didn’t know what to expect, but the second you saw Nolan step onto the ice you were flooded with emotion. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping much or well, and your heart dropped at the thought that you may have been the reason why. You still were firm in your decision to avoid anything serious right now, but you knew you went about it in the completely wrong way. Nolan was the closest thing you had ever met to an angel, but you treated him like a random one night stand from the bar you barely knew. The guilt had overtaken you over the past few weeks, and seeing him in the flesh wasn’t helping.

It was a relatively uneventful game, the rebuilding Red Wings visiting and not giving the Flyers much of a fight. By the third period they were up 4-0, one of which was scored by number 19 himself. As the horn sounded signaling the end of the game, Aubrey turned to you.

“I was going to go see Travis,” she hesitated, “Do you want to come? Or I can meet you right after?”

“I’ll wait for you,” you encouraged.

Aubrey thanked you, squeezing your hand before getting up and heading downstairs. Instead of going to the main concourse to wait, you stayed in your seat, waiting for the crowds to clear out before you moved. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you started mindlessly scrolling as a distraction.

But your distraction didn’t last for long.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your eyes slipped shut when you heard his voice, that same voice that left you weak in the knees. You immediately felt your heart begin to race and your palms sweat. You felt caught. After taking a moment to pause, you finally mustered up the courage to look up at him.

Nolan’s eyes were focused on your own, his hair slicked back and soaking wet still with sweat. He had definitely not showered yet, between the fact that the game just ended minutes ago and his appearance. He was dressed in his undergarments and slides, clearly he wasted no time before coming up here to find you.

“How did you even know I was here?” you questioned back, already feeling yourself on the defense.

“Really?” Nolan scoffed, “Travis told me. How else would I have known? It’s not like you talk to me.” He trailed off, his words becoming quieter.

“Nolan, please,” you pleaded, “Please sit down.”

There was no doubt in your mind that it was time for you to come clean. You could see the pain in his eyes and the hurt behind his voice. He obliged, sinking to sit in the seat beside you, but he didn’t turn to face you. His coldness was evident, and you knew that you deserved nothing else.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “I’m so sorry, Nolan. I- I shouldn’t have left like that, with no explanation-”

“I thought I had you,” he interrupted, “Finally, Y/N, after all those weeks of tiptoeing around it, I thought we were done pretending.”

You could feel the tears burning behind your irises, and it was taking everything within you not to let them out. Nolan’s words broke you, even more than you were already broken.

“Nolan, I wanted- I want,” you corrected yourself, “Nothing more than to give myself to you, but I- I just can’t. I’m not ready.”

“Then why did you sleep with me?” his voice cracked, “And what does that even mean, ‘you’re not ready’?”

“I can’t let myself get hurt again, okay? I can’t do it,” you sighed, finally succumbing to your emotion, “I am so sorry for dragging you into my mess, but I can’t let myself go through that again. And you deserve so much better.”

Your head fell to your hands, hiding your face from him as you cried. Even just speaking out loud your last heartbreak made you a wreck. Deep down you knew Nolan wasn’t capable of hurting you like that, but you wouldn’t let him take care of you anymore. You couldn’t. He deserved someone who didn’t need to be taken care of.

“Y/N,” Nolan hummed, gently placing a hand on your back. He cringed when you jumped at his touch. “Y/N, look at me, please.”

You did as he asked, your red, puffy eyes lifting to meet his baby blues, putting you at ease almost right away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nolan murmured, “I don’t know what you think, but you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite and I want to show you that. If you’ll let me.” He paused, his eyes frantically scanning your face for any sign of your reaction. You were staring ahead of you, entranced with the ice below as you processed his words. Despite knowing how much it could potentially hurt, Nolan said what he thought he had to, “Even if it’s just as friends, but you can’t disappear on me again.”

You made Nolan feel at peace, like when he was with you nothing else mattered. But no matter how strong his feelings were, he cared for you enough to put them aside if that’s what it took to keep you in his life.

“I don't want to be friends,” you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

As if there was some kind of magnifying force between the two of you, your body lunged towards Nolan’s, your lips crashing together instantly. He was stunned, his body frozen in shock, but within seconds he melted against your touch with one hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your hair. It felt like time stopped in that moment, the only thing making you pull away was the lack of air.

You were both breathless, your foreheads resting against one another. Nolan took both of your hands in his, intertwining his much larger fingers with yours.

“I trust you,” you breathed out.

The grin that spread on Nolan’s face was like nothing you had ever seen before. You matched him right away, smiling as you watched the pure joy and relief wash over. The same joy and relief that you were feeling.

“Does this mean I finally get to take you out?” he asked, his deep mumble making you feel right at home again.

“Maybe,” you teased, “Only if you shower,” you added, pretending to push him off of you.

Nolan couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter at your subtle jab. That’s what he loved about you most, the way you could earn a smile or chuckle out of him like no one else.

He stood up from his seat, extending his hand out as he stared down at you. Without even a crumb of doubt creeping its way into your mind, you took his hand. Wrapping your arms around Nolan’s and resting your head against his shoulder, you walked out and into the hallway together.

Nolan leaned down and pressed a gentle peck to your forehead, and for the first time in longer than you could remember, you felt untouchable.

~

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