#And I will gladly call someone with much more seniority than myself out in front of the kids and other teachers if need be

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I agree that we educators need a place to vent about our jobs, online places as well… but I draw the line at recording yourself interacting with a student who is clearly disregulated. I don’t care if you can’t see the student and can only hear their voice; you are recording their voice during a vulnerable moment. That’s almost on-par with autism parents recording their autistic children having a meltdown. I don’t care how much of an asshole your student is; you don’t do that.

[btssk]

Ms. Dokkaebi - Part One

Series Summary: You are the nanny for J-Hope’s older sister Jung Ji Wo. And while you’re great with her kids, best friends with J-Hope, and considered apart of his family, you seem very rude and stand-offish when it comes to the rest of BTS. There’s a tense relationship between you and the other members but when shit hits the fan, they'll realize just how wrong they were about you. But will it be in time.?

Notes: I’m new ARMY who doesn’t know everything there is to know about BTS as individuals so I may not accurately depict them in my writings, but as a FanFic writer who’s found her new muse, i’m just jumping right into it! This was originally going to be a one shot but then I started having too many ideas and points to touch on so I’m turning it into a series. And heads up, i write longgg posts regardless. I’ll probably comb through this a few times after I post to tweak some things. Also, this is obviously written in english but imagine that they're speaking Korean. This is my first BTS fanfic,

Hope you enjoy!

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Pairing: (Platonic) J-Hope x Reader

Summary: You've come to visit your very own personal ray of sunshine Jung Hoseok while on vacation. Despite his unbridled joy at your arrival, the other members of BTS struggle to understand how such terrifying opposites could be attracted to each other.

Warning: swearing, violence

"Here, place these on the table, Canola flowers are her favorite." Hoseok wipes the remnants of soil off his hands and smiles proudly at his personal efforts. "Their train should be arriving shortly, if you still plan to meet them at the station sir." "Right, i'll leave first then. Thank you ladies." The maids bow as he gives his final nod of approval before rushing to the waiting car. "Step on it Dae-Hyun, we can't be late." "Of course sir." "Dae-Hyun," "Yes sir?" "How do I look?" The driver smiled at the multimillionaire international superstar, sweating and squirming in the backseat. "She's going to be thrilled to see you sir."

…

"Does that mean I don't look good?"

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"We're here! Everyone come welcome our special guests!" Two little kids fly into the house faster than Hoseok could finish announcing their arrival. Next came their frantic mother scrambling to collect them and scold the poor manners they were presenting.

Jin gets up from sitting in the living room with both arms open wide, inviting the kids to jump into them. "It's okay Ji Wo, i've missed my little feathers." "We're not little feathers!" "Of course you are! See, I can do this!" He starts spinning around as fast as he can. Hoseok stands besides his sister smiling at his niece and nephew flying in circles. "Too fast!" "No more Ahjussi!" Jin stops spinning, "Ah-Ahjussi? Ahjussi?! Who are you calling Ahjussi? You think i'm so old that I deserve to hear such things?! Ya! You think you'll be young forever?" Jin begins tickling and shaking the two until they're begging him to stop. "You'll be my age soon and let’s see how you like being called Ahjussi! I'm not even that old!"

Jin's signature 'eldest-rant' calls the rest of the members into the living room. "I don't know Jin, i'm starting to see some grey hairs." Jungkook joins in on Yoongi's joke, "Oh, there on the sides right?" "Mm, yeah." "Stob it!"

By the time you entered the room, everyone had already shared their hello's with Ji Wo. Her kids were outside running around with Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin. Jin was still fuming over being called Ahjussi despite Namjoon's best efforts to calm him down, while Yoongi stood by doing his best to turn Jin into a talking tomato.

Busy helping his sister move the luggage to the guest house, Hoseok left your welcome party in the hands of dumb and dumber, plus one. The three kept at their bickering until Namjoon finally noticed you. You dropped two large duffel bags at your feet and wore all black, head to toe. No makeup, hair in a half-assed updo, and shoes still on after entering the home? You weren’t here to impress and currently, were not impressed either.

Namjoon straightened up his appearance before nudging Jin and Yoongi to follow suit. Yoongi hid his smile and offered a very sweet and shy apology. And while Jin was obviously embarrassed to have been caught acting so childish in front of a stranger, this fact presented a dilemma. Why was there a strange woman in his living room? An American woman, with a very unpleasant look of irritation and disapproval on her face? 'Does she not see how handsome I am?' Remembering that he was in his own home and the eldest person present, he chose an informal tone. "Ya. Who are you. How’d you get in here?" No response. The only change being your eyes now solely locked onto Jin. A slight relief to Namjoon and Yoongi. "Did you hear me? Who are you, what do you want?"

"...."

"What you don't speak Korean?"

Silence.

"Aishh," Jin put his hands on his hips, "So, You American came to Korea just to step into a Korean household and not only refuse to address your senior, to state your business, or atone for these things, but can't even speak Korean to begin with? Unbelievable." After another chance to explain yourself, yet remaining silent, Jin rolls his eyes and grabs his phone. "Fine. I'm calling security." Now you looked pleased, almost amused. Did you understand what he had said? Clearly not since you were smiling, but, did you? The three members wait with you in the deafening silence.

A couple minutes and guards storm into the room scanning for the intruder. Jin immediately starts yelling and pointing for them to take you away. Yet you don't move an inch as the guards surround you. Instead, you smile sweetly in return for their low bows. The member's are stunned as the head of security addresses you and you only. "Our apologizes for this mishap Ms. Y/n, it won't happen again." You nod, accepting his notion, and Jin couldn’t take it anymore, "What! what is this?! Who is she that she can enter my home uninvited with more authority than me?!" The guard's explanation is interrupted by Hoseok's return. "Oh good, you've met y/n!" He smiles at his friends indifferent towards the scene he interrupted. "Y/n hand me your bag i'll carry it," he gives you his other arm to escort you outside, "Ji Wo and the kids are already unpacked. I'll help you with your stuff. I made sure your room had those pillows and comforter set you really liked from last time-oh! And I have a surprise for you! I went and picked them myself, your favorite! Then we can talk about what you want for dinner tonight..." The three ‘men’, who were correctly feeling as less than such, watched you step into the guest house as if you owned that too.

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"Explain."

"Oh good, I needed a second opinion! I like the yellow shirt but it's a bit much for dinner at home right? Then there's the blue but it doesn't compliment my eyes very well. Maybe the white one then? You can't go wrong-"

Jin slaps the shirts out of Hoseok's hands.

"No! Explain the woman who just walked into my home with zero etiquette, highjacked my home, security team, and is now downstairs with her bare feet on my coffee table!"

"So you're thinking the blue one."

"Hobi!"

"Jin can you keep it down, i'm trying to take my pre-dinner evening nap," Yoongi throws himself on the bed, "But to his point; Who is she?"

Hoseok picks up the blue shirt and pulls it on. "Uh, well that's a loaded question. I know that she can be very, well, i'm sure you've noticed,"

"Yes, continue."

"But, I guess, she's my best friend." Every remaining member bursts through the door, silently threatening him to say it again. Even Yoongi twisted his head, "The hell did this bitch say." Jin takes the lead scolding Hoseok's blasphemous comment, with the others suddenly becoming faithful followers of their beloved Ahjussi. Once finished fiddling with his shirt, Hoseok addressed the room full of crybabies. "Maybe 'best friend' wasn't the most appropriate label, but she IS someone very special to me. So please, all of you go get dressed and be ready to eat dinner in an hour. I need this to be perfect. It's important, please." He hurries out of the room to find you, leaving his very much so established and unquestionably best friends unsatisfied with his explanation.

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"Tell me to hurry up...look nice...feet on my table!...she's the mean one...I don't even like spicy food...Will you come help me already you see me struggling!" Namjoon was certain his hands were going to fuse with his face if he listened to this for another second. He gladly stood up to help Jin with his tie, "If it'll end your ranting about y/n-"

"Stupid name"

"You met her once for five minutes; you don't even know her." "Ah, five minutes was ten minutes too long." "That still doesn't make any sense," Namjoon grumbles for the billionth time since meeting his friend, "There, done."

"And why are we wearing ties anyways? We're at home! Ji Wo's family! I'm expected to look Grammy's ready for that…that Dokkaebi!?" Yoongi sits up from Jin's bed laughing, "That what?" "When did you get there?" "Did you just call y/n a Dokkaebi? I haven't heard name calling like that since primary school." Jin charges at Yoongi shaking his finger, "You know it! You were there, both of you! You saw her smiling at us; like a blind person winking. Just, empty." A chill runs up Jin's spine that Namjoon and Yoongi have to admit they also felt. "Hear me, that goblin will only cause us problems." "You're overreacting-"

"Her.bare.feet! On.my.coffee table!"

"Look she's special to Hobi, that means she can't actually be that bad right? And again, we only met her for five minutes-" "That was ten minutes-" "DO NOT say it again it makes NO sense! We didn't make a very good first impression either, so let's consider dinner a fresh start." Namjoon and Yoongi guide a still disgruntled Jin down to dinner. They can hear the kitchen is already crowded with conversation, children laughing, and food on the stove. Namjoon takes a deep breath, "Fresh start boys. Be nice." They round the corner to see your eyes already baring deep into their souls. Jin leans into his friend’s tiger grips on him and whispers, "See, see! Some of her goblin tricks already. Evil little mi-chin nyeon-" "You sure you want to finish that sentence." Your comment draws Hoseok’s attention to his friends, "Hey guys! Come have a beer, we're almost done cooking." The trembling mice men find a safe distance from you on the other side of the island and Hoseok hands them each a drink. But Jin’s eyes never leave yours, except to make sure that the knife in your hand is still chopping vegetables and not plunging into his chest. "So, you can speak Korean." "Of course, what kind of American would I be to come all the way to Korea, enter a Korean household, and not be able to address my senior. The honor is mine, Ahjussi." You throw in a lopsided bow at the end but Jin is far from impressed. Namjoon grabs another beer, "Here we go..." Before he has the chance, Jin's attention is on his legs. "Do the funny walk!" "Yeah, the funny walk!" "Oh, I think i'm too old, now that i'm 'Ahjussi Jin'." The twins plead with him until they're disappearing down the hallway, holding on for dear life as he flails his legs as much as possible. You finish cutting the vegetables and hand them to Ji Wo at the stove. Before you have a chance, Hoseok takes the dishes from your hands, "I can clean these too y/n, you go grab a drink and hang out while Ji Wo and I finish up. Your seat is right there next to mine!" If he could walk for you he would, even if he didn't have legs himself. Annoying and embarrassing at times, like now, but at the end of the day you loved that about him; so unashamedly sweet to you like no one else would dare to be.

You go slip into your Hoseok-assigned seat at the table next to Yoongi and count how long it’ll take him to grow a pair and say what's on his mind.

"So y/n,"

27 seconds,

"how do you know Hobi?" "I work for Ji Wo." "Oh, like a secretary?" 'The fuck?,' "Or not. Then, some security guard? No! Not that i'm saying you’re manly or anything, you're very attractive-not that i'm attracted to you-NOT that there's a reason I shouldn't be!" Yoongi chokes on his words long enough for you to respond. "I'm her nanny." You see the first unpetrified emotion cross Yoongi's face since meeting, "Really? You…like, kids?" "Of course. They're adorable." He'd have an easier time believing you if you didn't look like you were recounting the hells of war. Lost on how to continue the conversation, Yoongi tries a new approach.

He moves a tray of assorted fruit towards you, "Here. Do you like fruit? We bought all of this fresh from the local market." "I already had some." "Oh. Okay, good.. Um, I love the tangerines. I bought a whole bundle...where'd they go?” Yoongi notices that his dozen of tiny orange babies are the only fruits missing from the tray. Once again your eyes were waiting for his to catch up. "Did you-" Without breaking eye contact, possibly without breathing since Yoongi’s doubting you even have a heart right now, you peel the last tangerine. You do it slow enough that if you listened closely, you could hear it crying for 'papa Yoongi' to save it. "My...you ate...all of them." The poor boy looked like he went bankrupt with a wife and kids to feed back home. Ironic maybe? He tried his best to swallow his emotions, "That's okay. You're our guest; I'm happy to share anything with-" You pop Yoongi's last little baby into your mouth and he snaps, "That's it. Who hurt you. I demand to know." A slightly sweaty Jin joins the stand-off over his friend’s shoulder with the same scowl on his face, "See...Dokkaebi." Yoongi swears his loyalty with a single word. "Dokkaebi.."

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"Y/n i'm going to the restroom, can you-" "Got it." "Thanks!" Ji Wo runs around the corner leaving you in charge of the children. All, of the children.

Most are taking their seats, Hoseok is practically in your lap talking your ear off, and Jin is trying to shake off the two urchins still stuck to his legs. "Please!? Where is your mother it's been hours, days even!" The twins laugh at his joke and Namjoon again tries to convince Jin that he doesn't make any sense.

"No, more more!"

"Yeah more!"

"More!"

"More! MORE!"

Hoseok eventually nudges you, "Come on y/n, enough fun, the foods going to get cold." 'We never do what I want.' You snap your fingers and point to the chairs across from you. The two tumble over each other trying to see who could be the fastest. So competitive. You were proud. "Whoa, could you train Yeontan to be that obedient?" "You calling my kids dogs." There's a slight breeze behind you that could only be from Hoseok's frantic motions for Taehyung to stop talking. "I, no...nevermind."

Ji Wo comes back and sits next to her son, "Okay, let's eat!" Everyone starts to fill their plates and converse amongst themselves. Hoseok is making your plate while you're busy making the kids'. Sitting on the other side of the twins is Jungkook. He gives himself a pep-talk until he's confident that he's about to do the right thing. Yet, across from him, Yoongi and Namjoon shoot him every desperate facial expression that they know. Whatever Jungkook is about to do, they're sure it's a bad idea. 'What are they mouthing? "Dok...Dokkaebi?" What? That doesn't make any sense.' He gives them a curt 'I got this' smile so the two give up.

'Poor bastard.'

'It's always the innocent.'

Jungkook grabs the bowl in front of him and holds it out towards you. "Y/n, I made this dish specially for you. It takes a few hours to prep and another two for cooking, but Hoseok spoke so fondly of you I knew it was worth the time." You feel the pride radiating from Hoseok when he places his hand over yours. The whole thing's silly, but you let your little sunshine have his moment. "The sauce is my grandmother's secret recipe and I made the noodles from scratch. It's always a crowd favorite when I make it. I'd love it if you had some! Let me put some on your plate." "No thanks." Jungkook stops mid-reach across the table and his doe-eyed smile falters. "I, uh, promise you'll love it. It's the best dish on the table! Please, just try it-" "You trying to kill me (?) I said no" "But-" "And I won't say it again."

A pained silence falls over the group, but nothing compares to the hurt on Jungkook's face. Defeated and humiliated, he slides back down into his chair too embarrassed to lift his head. Then, "I want some!" the little girl next to him slaps a smile back on his face. "Of course sweetie, here!" This time Hoseok and Ji Wo are the ones quick to speak up in a panic. "No hun, you can't." "Jungkook don't-"

*CLINK!*

Your eyes snap to the spoon still spilling pasta on the plate. The sound rings out and fades away without a single interference. Jungkook's frozen in fear, everyone is, as they should be. You can feel Hoseok desperately squeezing your hand, silently begging you not to cut off his friends'. Ji Wo's face is pleading the same case. You listen to Jungkook's heart beat out of his chest for a few more seconds, watch his life flash before his eyes to truly remember this moment by. Removing your hand from Hoseok's, then placing it over his, is reassurance that he and Ji Wo can stop shaking. As for everyone else, they're nothing more than deer caught in headlights. "There's shrimp in that. She, and I, are both allergic to shellfish. If you feed her that, she'll die in minutes, and then you would die in seconds. Am.I.clear." There was another silence while Jungkook struggled to keep his soul from leaving his body. He couldn't believe what he had almost done and begged forgiveness from Ji Wo, "I-I'm so sorry! I had no idea, honest I wouldn't have-" "It's okay Kook, I know that you didn't know. It was an accident," her eyes drift towards you, "right y/n."

She's weary. She can tell that you haven't calmed down, not enough at least. You take your job very seriously; you love her kids as if they were your own. And if you ever did have kids of your own, then god save us all. You really were like a second parent to the twins. The kids once asked if the two of you were going to get married some day. You and Ji Wo were both laughing your asses off until you realized that Eun had fallen out of her chair. Her face was turning purple and her throat had nearly swollen shut. She laid motionless on the floor with her eyes digging into y/n's, begging for help. But no one saw what happened and didn't know what to do. Y/n took a gamble since it was their first time having lobster and gave her her epi-pen. As relieved as Ji Wo was to hear her daughter start breathing again, it would be a few weeks for her, and you, to completely move past what happened. That was the first and only time Ji Wo had seen you so unnerved; truly afraid. And right now she saw that same memory flash over your eyes in a blinding loop. She tries again, "Y/n, it was an accident…It's okay now."

"Y/n," Hoseok's gripping your fist with both of his hands, "She didn't eat any, she's okay. Jungkook knows now, they all do. Right." Every head at the table shook furiously, but you saw none of it. Your eyes locked onto Jungkook and debated which fingers to break first.

Then you felt Hoseok's grip on you change. It loosened, and his fingers gently ran over the back of your hand, something that always forced you to relax. "Angel," One of your biggest weaknesses, "please, for me." was hearing him beg. 'And that dang pet name.' You let out all of your pent-up energy into one labored sigh, finally releasing the dinner guests as hostages. Yoongi jumps from his chair as you abruptly stand. "What did you learn Jungkook." "She's-you both!-are allergic to shellfish," poor thing had been on the brink of crying this entire time, "I swear that I will never forget it-" "No. You don't question me. Ever again."

While you're turned to grab a clean plate for Eun, "Chin-hae don't stand on your chair-!" you hear the sweetest voice back you up. "Yeah! You don't ask y/n questions!" He's all but using his sister's head as a prop while sticking his sticky finger in Jungkook's face, “giving him the business” about not asking anymore questions or trying to kill his sister again. You motion for him to sit down once you're back and shoot a wink. 'That's my boy.'

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"Again, Ji Wo, I am so sorry for earlier at dinner. I still feel absolutely awful about it."

"It's okay Jungkook, honestly. Y/n always carries an epi-pen for both of them. Even if Eun had eaten some, she would've been okay."

"So then, that whole "she'll die in minutes, you'll die in seconds" thing was y/n just messing with me, right?"

"Of course, no chance she'd let Eun get even close to dying."

Jungkook relaxes just enough sipping his coffee to choke on it when Ji Wo continued, “But she might still kill you, that wasn't a joke." Jimin smacks his friend's back until he settles.

After dinner, you took the twins to the guest house to get ready for bed. Everyone else stayed behind and congregated towards the living room to properly catch up with Ji Wo. Before getting married, the boys saw her around all the time. Since then, they only see her on the rarest occasions. It sucks, but that's the way it has to be.

"Anyways, thank you all for letting us stay here. I know it's not everyday you guys get the chance to go on vacation."

All of you were staying at BTS's vacation home out on Daecheong Island. Technically it was Jin's vacation home, but since he always said yes when the member's wanted to use it, no one bothered listening to his empty protests anymore.

The island is located in northern South Korea; just west of Seoul. The home was well secluded, on the coastline with plenty of space and privacy, about an hour or so from the nearest town. It was a favorite place for the boys to get away since they had true privacy while there, but could still feel like they were at home. And rarely if ever would they draw attention while in town. The locals knew who they were but lived their own lives on the island and didn't care to bother them.

Namjoon pats Ji Wo's back, "Don't worry about it. We're happy to have you." "Yeah. No filming, practices, recording schedules," Jin stretches back in his chair, "no responsibilities what so ever. Plus now, you and the little ones are here? Talk about a good time." He turns towards Ji Wo though, momentarily becoming serious, "And no one knows where we are. Promise." The rest of the group offers reassurance to Ji Wo.

Hoseok leans in close to his sister, "You didn't tell anyone where you were going right? Didn't have any issues?" She shakes her head no. Anyone else would think that the boys were worried about people finding out where they were. But Ji Wo knew the truth. They wanted to make sure no one knew where she was. Especially her children.

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Flashback

You remembered the first and only time that you had met Ji Wo's ex-husband. It was the twins' third birthday party and the first of many without their father. Ji Wo pulled out all the stops to try and make it as special as possible. There ended up being just enough commotion for him to sneak in through the side gate.

You'd heard plenty about how he lost custody of the twins due to his alcoholism, and how more than once it led him to put his hands on the them. Not to mention the few screws he had loose in the head. He'd never do anything less than swear he loved his children more than anything and just wanted to be a family. But after putting Ji Wo and the twins in the hospital, twice, he didn't stand a chance in court. At the final hearing he reeked of alcohol and rambled on about making Ji Wo pay for stealing his children from him. He was detained for disorderly conduct and Ji Wo won sole custody.

There wasn't a word from him after that so no one expected him to show up that day.

You didn't know what he looked like, but the new stench of alcohol in the air and screams from Chin-hae was more than enough information. "Oh come on son, I brought you a present...I think?" The drunk stumbled around trying to feel for the nonexistent gift. Every child ran to their parents as you ushered them all inside the house. Ji Wo didn't have security then, and this was the moment to change that.

Chin-hae and Eun clung to Ji Wo's legs, remembering enough of their father to be afraid. "Seo-Jun. What are you doing here." He acted genuinely offended by her comment, "Is it not my children's birthdays? Their father should be here." He staggered closer and Ji Wo struggled not to shake more than she already was. "N-No. You, should leave. The restraining order-" "TO HELL WITH THAT PIECE OF PAPER!" His outburst even made you jump. You needed to hurry and make sure everyone was safe inside before going to help Ji Wo. Only a few more people and then you would be free to kick his pasty ass.

"Seo-Jun please, you're drunk; you're scaring the kids." "Oh, well then," his posture straightens and eyes go dark, "i'm suddenly feeling very sober. No need to be scared now. Come on kids, give your dear old dad a big hug." Only a sour breath away from them and both kids were soaked in their tears. They cried "Mom no! Don't make us!" "We'll be good! PLEASE!!" "MOM!?" Ji Wo clung onto them as hard as she could without hurting them. She took two steps back for every one Seo-Jun made. "Come on guys, you're not being very nice. You can't still be mad about last time right? I said sorry. And hey! I have some new friends for you to meet." Three men entered the backyard with eyes glued to the kids. "Seo-Jun please! Don't do this!?" "Ji Wo. Honey, you know I won't ask again," he holds out his arms, "Hand them over." When the men start advancing Ji Wo drops down to her knees to shield her children as best she could. But she was crying just as hard as they were, just as terrified.

One man had his hand on Eun's flailing leg for less than a second before being drop kicked by you running at full speed. He didn't get up until the ambulance arrived. Without hesitating you go after the next one, throwing hit after hit until he falls and doesn't get up. The third pulls out a knife and you see red. Knives, real knives like these, sent you into an unstoppable rage. You had plenty of reasons to hate them, and even more to hate Seo-Jun. The man took a few swipes at you before taking a misstep and gives you the opening you need. A single move and you get ahold of the knife, toss it, and start breaking as many of his bones as possible. This wasn't just about stopping a kidnapping anymore, it was making sure they suffered as much as time allowed you.

This would be the first time Ji Wo and the kids see you fight; see you turn into a monster, "Y/n?" and Hoseok. The look on your face must have terrified him because he stumbles back before being able to focus on the situation. Hoseok runs to help Ji Wo, taking Chin-hae so the four can make a faster break for the house.

Seeing his plan go to shit, Seo-Jun makes a last ditch effort to grab at least one of the kids. He takes after Ji Wo and Eun but luckily he's a lot slower than you are. You drop the near lifeless body you'd been breaking and sprint after him. He sees you coming and his desperation overtakes logic. Seo-Jun reaches into his jacket, "You're not taking them away again bitch! Let's see how you like it!!"

*CLICK*

"Y/N!!"

*BANG!*

A silent cry forces its way out. You're hands radiating fire from the new hole in the side of it. Your panicked reflex led to sloppy technique in redirecting the barrel of the gun from Eun. you can't let it slow you down. A left hook and solid kick to the side of his knee and Seo-Jun crumbles. Working through the pain, you knock the gun out of his hand and jump on top of him, hitting him with everything you've got; every punch you know with all the strength you have left. You couldn't feel anything from your right hand up to your elbow, 'guess I'll just have to keep going until it comes back.'

-

You don't know how long it's been, could be minutes maybe only seconds, but Seo-Jun had stopped moving. You know that you should probably quit now, but hearing Eun scream for you a moment ago was far too close to home. You knew that sound; you're brother made that sound. And the more you remembered it, the more it seemed this high you were on would never end. You didn't want it to. You hated Seo-Jun for everything he's done and for everything he reminded you of. The life you fought through Hell to escape from. If he lived through this, you swore you'd finish him off for good one day.

Your ears were still ringing from the gunshot but a voice fought it's way through. "y/n...Y/N! You have to stop! It's okay now! You need to calm down! Please!" If Hoseok would be honest with himself, he was too afraid of you to do more than scream from a safe distance, let alone try and touch you. The way you weren't letting up on Seo-Jun's body even for a moment. He looked over at the man you had been beating up when he arrived. His body was crumpled and folded over like a distorted carcass. It was inhumane; indigestible. He knew parts of your past but seeing it manifest in front of him? he didn't imagine being this afraid of you. Would you ever hurt him? How thin was this line you toed? Did he know you at all- "AHH-!"

*BANG!*

Hoseok doesn't move when blood splatters across his face. He can't even will his tears the courage to fall. He had been too lost in thought to realize the second man you attacked had gotten up. How he had only been step or two away from him, gripping his partners knife. He didn't notice how swiftly you turned and shot him with Seo-Jun's gun. Square between the eyes without blinking your own. You killed a man without hesitation, totally relaxed with zero remorse.

The only thing strong enough to pull you out of your rampage was someone you loved being in harms way. No amount of rage could trump the urge to protect them, and only once they were safe would you feel yourself come back to earth. You stood up, back in reality, but Hoseok was still lost in the clouds. Only a few moments ago he was debating the origins of your soul, now he knew you were his guardian angel. If not for you he would be a pile of sliced meat right now, or Ji Wo, or even the twins. They could have been taken like Seo-Jun wanted or worse, also like Seo-Jun wanted. Ji Wo was helpless to stop it and he arrived too late regardless. You knew all of this already, that's why you fought for them. With all of your heart you protected Hoseok's family; his whole world, and now him too. He'd never be able to repay you.

"D.I.P.D.! Drop the gun! Hands up both of you!"

"Backyard is secure."

"Roger that. Civilians are all accounted for and inside of the home is secure."

"We've got four bodies; call for another ambulance." "Yes sir."

"Check for pulses and take those two into custody already!" "Sir!"

The next month was nothing but back to back court hearings, being shuffled to and from your holding cell, and meeting with lawyers before and afterwards. Everyone who was at the birthday party had to testify in court, then they were free to go. But almost every one stayed throughout the entire trial. Your motives weren't lost on them; they knew what a monster Seo-Jun was and it was obvious what he was there to do. Each testimony painted you as the selfless hero who saved the day. Mounted against Seo-Jun was a multitude of eye witness testimonies, means and motive, forensic evidence, the crime scene report, and the irrefutable security camera footage. Seo-Jun's remaining accomplices got 18 months by accepting a plea deal while Seo-Jun himself received 3 years, eligible for early release after 2 on good behavior.

Normally with the amount of evidence against Seo-Jun, this case would have been open and shut in a matter of days. But in private you were being psychologically evaluated and cross examined by both teams and the judge personally, to determine your own fate. Your personal file, although sealed from the public and PI Investigations, had to be taken into consideration. In the end you were cleared of all charges and free to go. If anyone asked, the delay in your release was due to some "administrative issue with the paperwork or whatever" and so you spent that time just sitting in your cell counting sheep.

During your release, "We know who Seo-Jun is y/n. Be careful," the judge leans in close as you walk past her and whispers, "stay close to those kids." That decided your fate, whatever that may come to be. This wasn't over; Seo-Jun would be back, so not a day would go by that you weren't by their sides.

You were prepared for the worst when you saw the Jung's again. You thought they'd call you a monster and tell you to stay away. But tears poured from your eyes when Chin-hae and Eun crashed into your legs and refused to let you leave them again. Ji Wo's hug surprised you most, you two had never hugged before. She immediately hired you as the kids' personal bodyguard but if anyone asked you were their nanny. (A secondary role you fell into). She moved you into one of the spare bedrooms of her new undisclosed address and location home, just down the hall from the kids' rooms. She told you to do what you want with the room; paint it, rearrange it, knock out a wall, you name it. Then gave you a personal black card to use how you like. You told her it was all too much, trying to remain humble and modest, but it just made her cry. She couldn’t comprehend how else she could repay you for what you did for her and the kids, not that she felt this even amounted to enough.

Next you hand picked her new security detail. Each candidate had to fight you in hand-to-hand combat as the final test, and whoever didn't go down in 30 seconds made the cut. One of them managed to land a hit and became head of security, also your fill in whenever you weren't around.

Hoseok hadn't come around the first few days after your release. 'Why would he, he saw what I can really do. What i'm really like.' Ji Wo would tell you not to worry or think too much, that he probably just needed a bit more time to process some things.

You woke up on morning and were instantly suspicious, "What?" Ji Wo just kept smiling ang giggling to herself on the couch, "Oh, nothing. Just a funny book." "You're not reading a book-" "Oh the door! I wonder who that could be." You turn to the guard stationed in the main hallway, "She hasn't been drinking has she?" "No ma'am."

Ji Wo prances back into the room, "It's for you!" then off into the kitchen. "Ji Wo I know you're pretending; you haven't cleaned a single dish in 6 years." "Just go to the door?!" You shuffle down the hall, "I hope your mystery guest doesn't mind me looking like hell!"

"They don't,"

you stop.

"They think you always look pretty great actually."

"Hoseok..."

He stood at the door holding your favorite flowers and dressed to the nines, "What is this, what are you doing?" He stepped through the threshold, "Can I come in? I don't want to end up like the last guy who didn't ask you." His joke was stupid and inappropriate but he laughed like a goofball all the same. You tried to smile but couldn't stop the frown from forming. You look down at your feet suddenly feeling ashamed and embarrassed in front of Hoseok. He closes the door and puts down the flowers. He holds your hands in his, "What's wrong?" "Nothing I," 'I was afraid you hated me,' "I just missed you. You haven't been around since..." The words were stuck in your throat and you were at a loss at how to get them out. "I thought..." He understood, "Hey no, no. I'll admit I did need some time to process what happened but, I could never..." 'I'm not afraid of you,' He cupped your face and lifted it to make sure you heard this next part, "I owe you my life y/n. You saved all of us, and that's not something that a bad person would do. I could never be afraid of you; I love you." You wiped a stray tear and playfully punched Hoseok in the shoulder, "Hobi don't," "What? I don't mean like that!" You both laughed. It was a relief to feel like things were back to normal between the two of you.

"You know what I mean." "Yeah I do. I love you too Hoseok. Now seriously, what is all of this; what's with the get up?" "Oh, well I was worried that you might be feeling a little down so I wanted to treat you to a day out! Starting with breakfast at that fancy restaurant you like." "The one with the giant fish tank? And we get to pick out which fish we want to eat?!" "Yes now hurry up and go get dressed, our reservation's in 45 minutes." Your sprint towards your room looked the exact same as the twins. Passing the kitchen you hear Ji Wo, "He's feeding you isn't he." "YUP! My favorite!" “Bring me back some-" "Absolutely not!"

20 minutes later and you're speeding back down the stairs dressed and ready to go. "There's no need to pull me out the door like this! We have a reservation; we won't have to wait to eat-"

"But all the good fish could already be gone! I want one so fat and juicy it has rolls!"

"Fish don't have rolls-y/n you're drooling on my sleeve-Ew it's on my hand! Let go already!"

You shove his body into the car and jump in after him, "Let's go Dae-Hyun! Get us there in 10 minutes and i'll get you whatever you want to eat." "Deal."

"Don't you mean i'll get him-?"

"Not now Hoseok I have to focus. Momma's going fishing."

Hoseok rolls his eyes at your theatrical evil grin, "For someone with a shellfish allergy you're too excited to eat fish."

"What can I say, I go wherever the spirits lead me."

"You're not spiritual."

"I am when they lead me to fish."

End of Flashback

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

"Good night honey. Sweet dreams." You had already finished tucking Chin-hae into bed and now it was his sisters turn. "Sweet dreams y/n. You'll be here when I wake up right?" "Always." You kiss her forehead and turn off the lights when you leave. You went down the hall to your room to change into something more comfortable before heading back out to the main house. Security had already been stationed around the guest house, so you felt okay leaving the twins here alone for a while. On your way out, you passed by the kid's room once more, 'Eun must have been really tired. How has her snoring never woken up Chin-hae before.’

You smile thinking about those rascals on your walk back to the main house.

Jung Chin-hae and Jung Eun.

Your favorite people in the whole world. A fact that hurt Hoseok's feelings even though he felt the same way. He never knew if because of his lifestyle, he would ever actually find true love, get married, and have children of his own. So his niece and nephew were the closest that he was going to get, and he loved them with all of his heart.

Ji Wo chose Chin-hae's name because it means 'depth of the ocean.' Going to the beach and being on the water was something that she craved constantly while she was pregnant with them. It was her escape and sense of peace while she faced struggles in her personal life. She had recurring dreams about sailing off with her children, away from their problems, and starting new lives as mermaids living happily in the sea. When they were born Chin-hae came out first, technically making him older, and it's how he acted. He was a textbook caring and protective big brother to his sister. His emotions could sometimes get the better of him (as demonstrated at dinner) but he had the biggest heart and was so thoughtful. Especially when it came to Eun.

Eun's name was chosen without a second thought. As soon as she opened her eyes, she looked up at Ji Wo with shining silver eyes. As beautiful as they were, there was concern. The doctors did some tests and found out that Eun was colorblind. They explained, in laymen's terms, that the parts of the eye that perceived color hadn't developed and therefor lacked pigment. That's why her eyes looked silver, and how Ji Wo chose her name.

When the two got older, Ji Wo tried explaining that Eun was colorblind, but Chin-hae didn't understand and thought that she meant Eun was completely blind. This misunderstanding created many memories that you'll never forget. You laugh to yourself thinking about one of your favorites. Chin-hae was constantly by his sister's side since learning that she was 'blind'. He was always holding her hand, trying to do everything for her, even tried brushing her teeth every now and then. One time you had called them to dinner but heard the two yelling at each other in the other room.

"Careful Eun! You have hold my hand, there's a step, you'll fall!"

"No I won't! I do it myself!"

"You can't! You're blind!"

"Nu uh! I see you!"

"No! You not see anything!"

Eun gasped, "I not see you?"

"No!"

She immediately started bawling her eyes out, "No oppa, I not see you!"

Chin-hae did his best to comfort her and grabbed her hand, "Hush Eun, it's okay. You always just hold me, like this."

He walked her over to the table and sat like nothing had happened but you couldn't wait to relay it all to Ji Wo. It was the sweetest thing watching him make her plate and then try to feed her. Ji Wo had to explain things a few more times before they finally understood what she meant. Even so, he still describes every color that he sees to her whenever she asks. You often daydream that that's how things could have been with you and your brother.

You let the bitter-sweet memory fade away when you enter the living room and take a seat next to Hoseok. ‘Of course he was saving me a seat next to him.’ He nuzzles himself into your side and carries on talking about the upcoming festival on the island. No one listens to a word he says because how could they? Did he just willingly throw himself into the lions den? What were you going to do they thought,

‘is she going to gouge out his eyes?’

‘Stab him for invading her space?’

‘Pull out his hair?’

‘Use his bones to make her bread-? Oh wait no that’s Shrek.’

Your only reaction though is to put your arm around him and listen to his rambling about this festival. You never bored of your ray of sunshine. You could always count on him to lift you up or calm you down. Of everyone you knew, no one was able to explain how the two of you could be so close. With seemingly nothing in common, you were total opposites and not in a cute Christmas romcom type of way. But maybe that was why you loved him so much.

The expectation is that the people who’d like you would look just as scary, be just as off putting, just as much a monster as you knew you really were. Yet it was someone like Hoseok to welcome you into his life. He saw the sliver of a good heart that you still had and spoke life into it.

“You’ll never leave us again.”

“We owe you our lives.”

“You’re not a bad person.”

“I love you y/n.”

Even though you weren’t into holding hands, snuggling on the couch, or going to whatever festival Hoseok was talking about, you’d do it for him. For all of them. So you let him snuggle into your side while you run your fingers through his hair like he liked, and Hoseok plays with your free hand. “-that sound good to you y/n?”

‘God knows what he’s talking about’

“Yeah sounds good Hobi.”

[ackerfics]

GIVE ME MORE FILIPINO LEVI GIVE ME MORE GIVE MOFE SKBAGXHMGIEGS ME MORE ZHHGEIVEMZI MORE

OF COURSE, ANON !!! i'll gladly list some things here that i like to imagine with filipino!levi aaaghhh

okay, imagine that he's your classmate. he'll be one of those intimidating kids that others secretly have a crush on because of their good looks but people are too scared of them (reason: rbf). nobody dares to sit beside him during the first day of class so once he knows that you're in the same section as him, his joy couldn't be contained to the point of staring at you with stars in his eyes. he doesn't know if hange and erwin being the other section counts as a blessing or a curse at this point. but he has you so he's okay.

captain of the volleyball team. i said what i said. even in this au, he's the captain of a volleyball club. his position is either the libero or opposite hitter (despite his height).

he's not that much conscious of his height since philippines is rarely blessed with tall people (at least from my observation hhhh) but it always irked him that his classmates, especially some annoying ones who don't know when to shut up, points out that he needs to be in the front of the line during flag ceremonies.

"hoy, by height daw ang line." (hey, they said that the line is by height)

"ah, okay, levi! dito ka!" (levi, come here)

"putangina, ba't ako na naman ulit?" (son of a bitch, why is it always me?)

so, it's great news to him during your senior high that someone from the new students appears to be shorter than him. there's this weight in levi's chest that disappeared the moment the new student relays their height. on the inside, he's rejoicing because he won't be in the front of the line during flag ceremonies anymore. (in the philippines, junior high are grades 7-10 while senior high, they're grades 11-12. some students transfer to different schools for senior high and i was one of them. i just don't like the environment of my previous school soooo ^^ transferees are called new students.)

levi will sometimes bring you bubble tea or iced coffee from the nearby cafe every lunch period, that is if you're invited by different people and he'll be spending the free hour eating outside of school with hange and erwin. straight up knows what you order from macao imperial tea or gong cha so it's not a big surprise that he just saunters inside the room with a tall cup of milk tea. your classmates will always make remarks about it that it nearly drives levi to bring you the drink when you two are not in the same vicinity as nosy people.

"sana all na lang talaga." (i don't know the exact translation of the phrase but this sentence basically says that they want the same thing to happen to them.)

okay, hear me out. since some schools here in the philippines celebrate valentine's day with some kind of program (i know, don't ask. i ditched this during 12th grade to go to the mall to treat myself), levi gives you a box of donuts and a single sunflower as a gift without a care in the world. you're flustered because he never blatantly show his affections for you, though, you're still thankful for it because it's not just a normal thing when levi wants to be sappy.

never lets your hand go when you two ride a jeepney. he knows how cramped it is sometimes so he prefers if you stick close to him. he always makes sure you go inside the vehicle first, esp if you're wearing shorts instead of your regular jeans. but if the only space are seats across from each other, levi will never leave his eyes on you. he glares at people if they make you uncomfortable but if that doesn't help, he reaches out a hand and sits with his elbows on his knees just to hold yours, rubbing his thumb in smooth circles over your skin.

your 1x1 id picture is in his id case. he's that boyfriend.

is exceptional at arnis. he doesn't even know the rules of the martial arts but when your curriculum requires this, he's one of the students who gets top marks. when you're struggling on the things called anyo, levi will teach you if the class is only set for practice.

turns down people who want to take a picture with him during intramurals and flatly says that he already has someone he's in a serious relationship with. at the end of his game, he expects a picture with you instead so get ready for clingy levi because he needs some love after running around the court for more than an hour.

the profanities will come out of his mouth 25/8. and that's a fact. putangina, bwisit, gago, linti, pisteng yawa --- you name it all.

is the friend who cleans up the group's messes when they have their shot sessions.

[quixotic-writer]

Letting Loose

Song inspo: fuck away the pain/one night stand — divide the day

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend and kicking him out you begrudgingly head out for work at the bar. After talking it up with Q for a while, you decide tonight’s your night of fun and you invite him over, he gladly accepts and is willing to do anything to help relieve your tension.

Warning: Kinky smut ahead!!!

———————————————————

“Get the FUCK out of MY house.�� I threw his suitcase of clothes out of the second story window and watched it fall onto the lawn with a loud thump that echoed through the whole neighborhood. I turn around to look at Devin and I glared at him. He smirked and walked towards me with open arms.

“C’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it.” He places his lips on mine and I shove him off, reel back my hand, and give him a hearty open palm slap across his cheek. “Ow! What the hell!?”

“First off: don’t ‘baby’ me, i’m over the charms. Second: The HELL do you mean you didn’t mean it? Did you not think when you ‘accidentally’ slipped your dick into her? Huh, Devin?” He continues rubbing his cheek and I feel proud of myself knowing that’ll leave a nice mark for him to explain. “I am dead serious this time. Get out, stay out. I see you back here EVER again and i’m calling the cops.” I point to the door for him to leave the room. With a moment’s hesitation he finally leaves, I watch from the window as he picks up the suitcase and drag it all the way to his car like the sad sap he is. His guilt tripping won’t work on me this time, and i’m pretty sure he notices that because he finally turns around to look at me through the window with a scowl.

“You’re a needy bitch. No one will ever put up with you like I did!” He yells before stepping into his car. I didn’t say anything back, just slammed the window closed and turned my back. He wasn’t worth another breath out of me. I slump down onto the bed face down and scream into the pillow. I don’t understand how I forgave him for cheating on me last time, I should’ve known he would have done it again. I was so naïve and stupid.

I continue mentally beating myself up and seethe in my own rage. My skin feels like it’s boiling and I have a tension in my head that feels like there’s a stretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. I don’t know whether or not I want to murder someone, break something, or just find a stranger and fuck them out of spite of my now tarnished relationship.

“Fuck.” I said out loud as I realized I had work tonight down at the bar at 3, I look over at the clock on my nightstand that read 1:00 in red neon numbers. I really don’t want to go especially with the range of emotions I was experiencing, but I had already called out of work so many times this month. If I called out one more time my boss would either hate me or fire me, I really don’t need the second one happening especially because now i’ll be taking on the rent by myself. Even with Devin around, he only paid for the bare minimum so not too much would be changing except a few additional shifts down at the bar. The epiphany of his bullshit only made me even angrier.

I soaked in the tub for a bit to get cleaned up for work and ease my tension just a bit. I take in the scent of lavender and carnations, close my eyes, and gently float my hands through the sudsy waters. It helped a little, but I could feel my nerve endings firing off in annoyance still feeling ready to pounce at any moment. Anything happens at work tonight and I won’t hesitate to give someone a piece of my mind, i’m so not in the mood to be dealing with bullshit of any kind.

I drive over to work blasting some metal music to try and release some of my anger by screaming along. Once I step through the door, I can already get a sense of how this shift is gonna go. It wasn’t a negative energy, but it wasn’t a positive energy either. It was just gonna be the same old same old kind of shift where nothing really happens. Though it’d be boring, i’d rather have that over a high energy night.

“Girl, maybe it’s just me, but your RBF is looking extra intimidating today.” Trin says from behind the counter. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’m not rolling my eyes at you. It’s fucking Devin.” Her eyes light up and her eyebrows flick up.

“Please tell me...”

“Yup. I’m over it. This time for good, i’m tired of being his play thing.” She gives me a big hug and is jumping a little as she holds me.

“Finally! He looked like he was dipped in fryer grease anyway. Now you just need to get something else good, and you know that one regular we have is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” She taps me with her elbow a couple of times and I laugh it off. I know who exactly she’s talking about, but I try to avoid giving her the satisfaction of giving out his name as I continue washing glasses behind the counter. “Quinn! That’s his name!” So much for avoiding that.

“His name’s actually Brian, but Quinn suits him better. Yeah he’s cute but why would he want me? Also doesn’t it seem kind of bad to rebound like that immediately after throwing my ex out?” I wasn’t going to deny that Q was cute, but i’d just feel bad using him as a rebound.

“Well first off, I think you’re a smoking hot piece of work that was too god for your ex. Second, you don’t seem sad about losing him, just mad that he was a dick that wasted your time and energy. Why not live for yourself a little and let loose?” She shrugs and goes back to serving drinks and making small talk with customers. She’s kind of right, I didn’t miss Devin and I wasn’t sad about losing him, I was just sad that I willingly allowed myself to be played and manipulated. Her words lingered in my ears as I continued working.

The afternoon slowly bleeds into the evening, it’s Tuesday so all our patrons are taking things slow and easy. It was a perfect pace for me to work at. Not too much work and bullshit, but just enough stuff to do to keep my mind occupied. Trin eventually clocks out for the evening and in her place one of our newbies, Trey, clocks in. It was perfect because I made him do most of the work to get a handle of how the ropes work in the bar. Seniority had its perks. I gossip with a few bar goers as they tell me their stories of their shit office jobs or complain about the typical New York traffic.

“There’s my second favorite bartender!” I turn my head as a deep voice thick with an accent diverts my attention away from one of my customers. There was Q, sitting himself at the counter smiling like a goof ball to me.

“Second favorite is all I get Quinn?” I say with a twinge of sass in my voice. “Shot of Jameson i’m guessing for the big boy to start off his night?” I lean over the bar and I notice his eyes take a quick peek at my slightly exposed cleavage that spilled from my tank top.

“You know it! Besides, you know my buddy Sal will always be at the top as far as bartending goes.” I get his drink ready and slide it over to him. He raises the glass to me with a smirk before he downs it in a swift gulp. I unknowingly stare at him with a slight glimmer in my eyes and he quickly catches me. “Staring’s rude y’know, sweetheart. Could I just get a nice brew also, please?” He says sliding the shot glass back over to me.

“Could say the same for you, Quinn.” I retort back going to clean up some of the dishes and serve up other drink to the few others surrounding him at the bar. I pour him his drink and set it down in front of him with a slight sneer.

“Someone’s on edge today. Been coming here long enough to know when something’s up with you.” The ring band he wears on his middle finger taps against his glass as he awaits a response to his query. My emotions are showing a bit too much tonight and I loathe myself for it, I always held myself to a standard to keep my private life hidden and not allow it to affect my performance at work.

“That obvious?” I say feeling guilty that I may have unintentionally taken some anger out on him. He chuckles a bit and leans in closer, resting his elbows on the counter top in anticipation to see if i’ll play along any further. “I’ll spare you the woeful details of my pitiful heartbreak if I can even call it that. Long story short: Boyfriend cheated and I got his sorry ass out of there.” He has a shocked look on his face and seems as though maybe he shouldn’t have asked. I cackle at his reaction.

“And you still came to work? That’s harder than any shot of whiskey i’ve ever done.” He rakes his hands through his hair as he sits back to process the information. I stare at his arms and his tattoos and his thick fingers. And I, for a second, imagined what it felt like if he held me close with those arms, what they’d feel like gripping my waist. Maybe Trin was right, maybe I need to let loose and have some fun all for myself.

“You know, I may be mad, but i’m sure as hell happy i’m not with him anymore. I’ve been over him for a while to tell you the truth, love was long out the door. He was so restricting it was ridiculous. Can’t wear this, can’t go there, blah blah blah. Don’t know why I put up with it for as long as I did or why I stuck around knowing I didn’t even love him anymore.” I say recalling all the stupid rules Devin had for me. I couldn’t wear anything ‘too revealing’ because it’ll attract ‘negative attention’ and he’ll be ‘embarrassed.’ I couldn’t go to certain places without him, it was all so manipulative because he could do whatever he wanted. If it wasn’t the cheating, the stupid rules would have been the next thing to make me want to dismember him.

“Let me buy you a shot sweetheart.” He slides some money over the counter and I graciously accept, i’d love a little buzz to get through this shift. “Cheers to getting him out of your life. You didn’t deserve that shit. No one does.” Sympathy. That’s something I haven’t seen a guy display in a while towards me. He raises his glass to me with a soft look in his puppy dog eyes and it made my heart feel full. I smile and raise my shot glass before downing the liquid that burns my esophagus as it travels down.

The night carries on, Q and I continue hitting it off and chat the night away in the dreadfully slow bar. We both get bolder and bolder and a little more flirtatious as the time passes. When I look over to the clock overhead, I notice my time in the bar is close to its expiration and even closer to a sense of newfound freedom. I eye Q up and down and I hear Trin’s voice echoing in the back of my head: let loose a little.

“So, Quinn, I’d love to continue this conversation and hang with you more after my shift is over. Maybe go to my place?” We both know where an invitation like this could lead, I chew on my bottom lip a little hoping to he says the words I want so badly to hear tonight. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and then I knew my wish was going to be granted.

“Thought you’d never ask sweetheart.” His fingers trace the rim of his empty glass and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. Every time he called me ‘sweetheart,’ it hit me in a whole new way. I go to clock out of work and wish an easy night to my coworkers before officially heading out. Q follows me out and we walk towards the parking lot.

“Shall I drive? I only had one shot and it has long worn off already.” I offer to Q. He hadn’t had much to drink, only a shot or two and a beer and I know he can handle his liquor pretty well, but i’d rather play it safe and be the designated driver for the evening.

“That would be much appreciated since i’m a little intoxicated, also because I have no clue where you live.” He jokes around. We both hop into my car and my music blasts through the speakers. It wasn’t just any music either, it was my Slipknot CD, the one I listen to when i’m especially mad. We both jump at the sudden cacophony of noise and I quickly bolt to turn down the volume. “That tells me exactly how pissed off you were earlier!” He chuckles and I cover my mouth in shame, speechless that the guy i’m trying to swoon just heard the hell that I listen to.

“This is the only thing I have in, I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel my face turning red.

“That’s fine, I don’t mind and i’d love to listen to something a little different for once.” I turn the volume back on and we start to head over to my house. The whole way there as we talked about nonsense, I could see Q out of the corner of my eye head banging to the music, and it eased my nerves in a weird way. Sharing music with someone is a deep form of intimacy to me, seeing someone enjoy what I play is something that fills me with no greater joy. As I catch occasional glances at him, the way the street lights illuminated his face and framed his features just made him seem even more attractive.

We pull into my driveway and I guide Q into my now quiet home. He seats himself on my couch and I mix up a glass of rum and coke for the two of us. I hand him his drink and take a seat right next to him. It was then where he really wanted to get into the nitty gritty of my recent relationship status update.

“So he had rules for what you could wear, where you could go, what you could do? Sounds like the jabberings of someone who’s insecure if you ask me.” He sips his drink. The amount of disgust Q has for the actions of my ex is so reassuring that i’m not crazy.

“Had I not been working tonight, I would have broken every single stupid rule he had for me. Especially the one about what I can wear, that one bugged me the most.” I had a whole outfit saved hidden away in the closet that I had kept secret. I had a sneaking feeling that things would have come to a messy end and bought it out of spite.

“I would kill to see you in it.” Seems as though he’s following in suit with my energy and he’s on the same page as I am. He looks me up and down and slides a hand on my thigh, I already feel my motor revving to go.

“Why leave it to the imagination when I could just give you a show?” His eyes flicker like a candle and I can feel his desires radiating off of his warm skin. I quickly hop up and disappear into my room. In my drawers I find my black lace lingerie that framed and clung to my body in the perfect ways sensing the outfit wouldn’t stay on for too long. Next in the closet I fish around for the wine red velvet halter crop top and the black pencil skirt I had stashed away. As the cherry on top on completed it all with the black platform heels I had.

I step down stairs and Q quietly takes in the view. I slowly walk closer towards him and stop as soon as i’m in front of him between his spread legs.

“Didn’t you know staring is rude, Quinn?” He’s clearly taken aback and I can see him struggling to keep it together. I straddle him and his hands feel over the curve of my ass and venture towards my hips where they rest. He stares in awe at the goods I have on display until he makes eye contact. Those chocolate brown eyes could tell a whole story, and I could never get tired of it. I bring our faces closer and lock our lips together in a deep kiss. “If we’re gonna be having fun tonight, we’re playing by my rules tonight.” I say in a dominating tone. It was my turn to have my way.

“If that’s what you want sweetheart, use me as you wish, call the shots tonight.” I devilishly smile as the sinful thoughts and ideas begin to pour into my head and I feel myself growing wet at the scenarios that play in my mind. Without another word, I take Q by his hand and drag him upstairs to the bedroom. I throw him on the bed and he throws his shirt off.

“So what are your limits Quinn? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded? Teased?” I say as my finger tips trace along his inner thighs, he groans a little at my touch.

“Kinky tonight aren’t we?” I remove my shirt and skirt to reveal the lingerie hidden underneath and go to grab some special items from deep within the closet. “I can handle anything you give me. But just in case, my safe-word is pumpernickel.” I stop in my tracks and try to stifle a laugh.

“Interesting word, but I will be sure to remember it. Now let’s get you out of those restricting pants.” I tug at his belt and remove his pants to reveal the tent that was hidden in his boxers. I rub him through the thing fabric and watch as he screws his eyes shut. “Oh you have no idea what you’re in for now Quinn. This hard already and i’ve barely even touched you.” I bring out the scarf I had and tie his wrists together and tie them up to the head board of the bed, leaving Q vulnerable and open. As a final piece, I place the blindfold over his eyes.

“I’m not allowed to see that smoking hot bod of yours? Now this is torture.” For a moment I look over his body, needy with lust filled desire and it’s eye candy to me. He restrains against the bondage around his wrists and his muscles flex for a moment and I feel myself pulsate at the sight. I lean in close to his ear, the fun begins now.

“Oh darling, there’s much more coming to you.” I crawl between his legs and rub over his sizable bulge and watch as his breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation. “You tell me when you’re close no matter what, if you cum too soon you’ll be punished. Don’t be afraid to make as much noise as you want, i’d love to hear what dirty noises come out of you. Never be afraid of using your safe-word, I may be in control but your well being still matters to me. Got it?” He whimpers underneath my touch.

“Yes, please continue it feels so fucking good.” I smirk as his mouth falls open letting his steamy hot breath escape. I lay a few kisses above the band of his boxers before taking the waist band in my teeth and slowly pulling them down to free his dick that stands at full attention before me. I quickly grab the hitachi wand from my toys and turn it on, a low humming sound fills the room and Q tenses up below me. I tease him a little and trace it along his inner thighs and just around his cock, but never touching it. “Please do something. Anything. I’m so hard please.” I smile because hearing him beg is truly a spectacle and something I wish I could hear all the time. His wish is my command and I place the the wand just below the head of his cock and his back arches off the bed and his fists clench above his head grabbing at the scarf to brace himself for the overwhelming and heightened sensation of pleasure that washes over him.

“Oh shit. God. Please more that feels so good.” I start running it up and down his length and watch as his hips convulse aching for more friction. “I’m close, holy fuck i’m close.” He confesses between moans and I quickly remove the toy and his dick twitches in attempts to find friction to chase the high it craves. Q whines at the loss of pleasure and it’s music to my ears.

“Not just yet. I haven’t even stripped down yet.” I remove my bra and panties and sit on top of Q’s hard on. I grind my hips and feel as his cock rubs against the folds of my dripping wet pussy. “Mmm~” A low hum falls out of my mouth because I know i’m in for quite a ride. He feels so thick and hard outside of my body in this moment, I could only imagine what it’d feel like inside of me. “How bad do you wanna cum?” I say teasing him in a pouty voice and all he can do is let out unintelligible babbles. “That’s not an answer Quinn.” I lift myself up and his groans only get louder and his feet kick at the sheets on the bed at the once again lost friction.

“Please I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.” I travel up his body until my navel hangs above his mouth, I can feel his steaming breath blowing on me and it only excites me more.

“Show me how bad.” I lower myself down and the moment he realizes what’s going on he quickly gets to work lapping up really fast at whatever his tongue could reach. “Fuck Q that feels so good.” I moan out to let him know he’s doing a good job. I lavish in the sensation of the wet warmth of his tongue plunging into me and circling around my clit, humming to add vibrations, hitting all my most sensitive spots. This man knew how to please a lady. I start grinding my hips to help him out a little as I feel my climax slowly beginning to approach. “I’m gonna cum Q keep fucking sucking on my clit like that.” Like a dog he quickly obeys and gives my wanted attention to my throbbing clit as he bites gently, sucks, and licks it I feel myself come undone and tremble through my high with a drawn out groan.

I decided he’s had enough torture and go to remove the blindfold. He quickly blinks his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dimly lit room after having that sense taken away. I lean down and kiss his lips that are soaked in my juices, moaning as I taste the liquid ecstasy, tongues tangles together in desperation. He hums back and I pull away to trail kisses from his jawline, to his neck, down to his chest, lower and lower until i’m met with his hard on that is leaking with a need for attention. I lick up whatever pre-cum resided on the tip and look up as he watches breathlessly.

“What’s wrong Quinn, cat got your tongue?”

“Quite the opposite. Bitch got my dick.” My eyes go wide and there’s no stopping the ugly laugh that escapes my mouth. It totally ruined the sexy dominating attitude I had going this whole evening but it was comical and swift on his part.

“Shut up that was terrible.” I say, still giggling a little bit. He gives a cocky smile in return.

“Make me.” Those were words he was soon going to mistake. I plunge down and take his whole cock into my mouth with my nose bouncing against his stomach. “Oh fuck!” He yells out at the suddenness of me taking him in. It sure did get him to stop talking as he dissolved into nothing but a moaning mess which only made me wet all over again. With each bob I take, I feel his hips start to match rhythms and start pounding against my face reaching in deeper as his tip hits the back of my throat and I gag a little. “I’m so close please let me cum dammit!” He cries out as the thrusts of his hips begins to falter but never losing power and I feel his dick twitch in my mouth. Just to torture him a little more, I slide him out of my mouth and back away so he falls away from the high he was so close to. “Please no, not again.”

“Just a little longer darling, all good things come to those who wait.” I straddle him again, but this time I line him up with my entrance, teasing myself as I rub his tip along my folds a little. I sink down slowly and Q’s mouth falls open and his head falls back at the sensation of finally being inside of me. I decided to reward him a little and lean up and remove the scarf that bounds his wrists. “Since you’ve been so good.” I say with a smirk. I slowly start to bounce my hips and feel as he slides in and out of me, hitting all the right spots that make it feel as though electricity is shooting out of every pore. Q’s hands grip at my hips so hard that I think that it might bruise, but it felt good and I knew I had built him up for so long tonight already.

In desperation and relishing the taste of his freedom, he starts slamming hard up into me and I knew he was close but he wasn’t going to say. Just as soon as he thought he had his way again, I tripped that thought away by stopping my movements and using my weight to hold his hips down against the mattress.

“Were you not going to tell me you were getting close?” He tries to use his hands to move my hips, but I wasn’t going to budge. I can feel him twitching like crazy in me and judging by his face he looks as though he’s going to be seeing beyond the stars when he finally releases all i’ve made him pent up. “Beg for it.”

“Sweetheart please i’m so close, this is the third time. You feel so good around me and I just want to cum.” The way he said sweetheart in a sad needy tone just made my heart melt. I release the weight I had on him and a fire ignites behind his eyes. He grabs my waist to hold me in place as he desperately thrusts into me getting faster and faster. I cum for a second time without warning as Q continues pounding into me relentlessly with feverish intent. I feel so oversensitive and i’m hunched over, leaning on top of Q as I whine from the overstimulation. It all came to a quick close with a final hard thrust he releases what felt like endless hot spurts of cum into me with a loud continuous throaty groan.

Finally we both lay there breathless and exhausting from what felt like the best sex i’ve had in ages.

“I haven’t had sex like that in a while.” I tell him as I push the now knotted, sweat drenched hair away from my face.

“I don’t think i’ve had sex like that ever. I don’t usually play sub, something about you got me down on my knees. Wanted you to have your fun.” I felt proud of myself for taking on the role, it felt empowering and a lot more satisfying. I could get used to this. “Y’know, I hope this isn’t just a one night stand because i’d kinda like to take you to a movie.”

“I think i’d like that a lot Quinn.” I say smiling and looking into the mocha puppy dog eyes that had me hooked from the start. Just when I had thought i’d have no chance throwing myself back into the dating ring, the universe drops the most unexpected twists into the tale. My twist: my favorite regular at the bar.

[blisslilywrites]

𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠.

➵︎ You’re a fairy who accidentally wound up in this world, but with the help of a human you met, you’re hoping you’ll be able to find a way back

Pairing: Tsukkishima x Fairy!Reader Word Count: 1.6k [one-shot] Genre: fluff(?), fantasy Warnings: none

A/N: yepp this is pretty late but ive been busy lately plus i wasn’t rlly happy with how this turned out but figured might as well just post it -lily 

The ground glowed blue. Fallen leaves and loose pieces of grass started swirling around you. 

This is not good.

You saw a flash of white and suddenly fell through the ground. 

The world became dark. 

You screamed and flailed, flapping your wings out of instinct. It proved futile and you soon realized your surroundings were devoid of air. You were just… falling. 

As soon as you realized this, everything became light again and you saw the grassy ground approaching fast. You hit the ground with a thud a second later and knocked yourself out. 

When you woke up, you groaned and slowly got up. Turning around, you took in your surroundings. A few bushes sprouted here and there, grass that extended in all directions, and a smooth gray pathway that cut through the vibrant green. 

That’s odd. There aren’t any pathways like this in the fairy kingdom. 

You shrugged. Ah well who knows what projects the higher-ups are cooking up. This might just be another one of them.

You didn’t actually think it was some project the senior fairies were working on. It was just a way of trying to reassure yourself, and it wasn’t exactly working. The moment you woke up, you knew you weren’t in the Fairy Kingdom anymore

The scenery here wasn’t that different from the ones at home but there was still something that felt off about it. Maybe it was the pathway, or maybe it was the way the wind that blew in your face smelled a bit old. It didn’t seem to have the same freshness as the wind from back home. You tried your best to brush it off and come up with a plan.

Deciding the best thing would be to follow the path, you spread your wings, picked a direction, and let the path guide you.

After what must’ve been hours of flying, both wings were exhausted and you resorted to using your legs. The sky had become a palette of reds and oranges. 

It’s dusk. That means the night folk should be coming out soon.

You shuddered remembering the last time you had a run-in with one of the night folk. Not wanting something like that to happen again, you picked up the pace.

A while later, you spotted two lights in the distance. It was coming closer and closer at an alarming pace. You froze on the spot and couldn’t move until you heard a loud, blaring sound and instinctively dived out of the way. 

The lights zipped past and you could see they belonged to a shiny moving box of sorts. It wasn’t a creature you were familiar with and the fear that was inside since you fell through the portal started to grow. 

You hurriedly got up and continued walking. The further you went, the colder it became. You huddled your thin wings around your arms and continued forward, not wanting to stop until you found something, anything, that could serve as shelter. 

The pathway sloped downwards and you could make out faint lights coming from the valley below. Hurrying forward, you spotted what looked like a town and immediately uncurled your wings and flew down to it. 

Upon closer inspection, this town was nothing like the towns of the fairy kingdom. Lights came from strange places and gave off a white tang. There wasn’t any grass here, save for a few patches here and there. Instead, the ground was all smooth. There weren’t many trees either and you wondered what these creatures used for their homes. Did they live in the huge blocks that covered the area? 

You were curious to know what creatures lived here, and even more so, if they were welcoming.

-----

Practice had just ended and Tsukkishima was all ready to go home. Yamaguchi had stayed home sick so it was just him walking home today. He put on his headphones and strode out of school and onto the sidewalk leading home. 

He was well past the school when he noticed a few street lights flickering. This area of town always gave him the chills. At this time of night, no one was out and the streets were ominously empty. It was also very quiet, which didn’t exactly bother Tsukkishima but always struck him as a bit off for some reason. 

He was about to turn a corner when he bumped into someone. Looking down, he saw something, or rather someone, fumbling to get up. The force of walking into Tsukkishima had knocked them down so he begrudgingly gave them a hand. Begrudgingly because he was Tsukkishima, because he didn’t know this person, and because they were dressed head to toe in what looked like huge leaves and flower petals. 

The oddly-dressed person ignored Tsukkishima’s hand and jumped up on their own. It was then he saw the insect-like wings protruding from their back. 

Thinking this person was probably just another dedicated cosplayer, he muttered an apology and continued making his way back home.

-----

You stared at the creature you had just bumped into. This one was unlike the shiny moving box in that it had features similar to fairies. 

It had a nose, two eyes framed by something unfamiliar to you, a band that extended across its head and covered the sides of it, two arms and two legs clothed in interesting-looking garments. It didn’t have wings but was carrying a sack of sorts over its shoulder. The creature was quite tall, taller than you by much, so you had to look up towards it. 

Before you could say anything, he muttered something lost to you and turned to walk away.

“Wait,” you called out, going after it.

The creature didn’t turn around so you kept calling. It finally did and looked at you with what seemed to be extreme perplexity.

“What do you want?”

You paused, not quite understanding what this creature was saying but sensing it was somewhat annoyed. 

Ohhh we don’t speak the same language. You smacked your head, ashamed of not realizing it sooner.

In one fluent motion, you took some golden-colored dust from a pouch by your side and sprinkled it on your lips, murmuring an incantation while doing so. 

“Can you understand me now?”

The creature looked unimpressed and merely looked at you before repeating, “What do you want?”

“Umm..well you see, I’m lost. Could you tell me where we are..?”

The creature looked even more unimpressed and in a sarcastic tone he answered, “Japan.”

“J-Japan..?” 

You’ve never heard of this Japan place before and you were starting to worry more.

“What? Don’t know what Japan is?”

You nodded sheepishly regretting not paying much attention in world studies class.

Now the creature just seemed to look shocked.

“Where are you from then?” it asked.

“The Fairy Kingdom,” you replied almost instantly. 

It narrowed its eyes and scowled, “Where are you really from?”

“I told you, the Fairy Kingdom.”

-----

Tsukkishima had no idea why he was still talking to this person. They were clearly unhinged. He told them they were in Japan like the smartass he was but they seemed to have never even heard of it. 

The Fairy Kingdom? Wings? Clothes made out of plants?? Yeah, they definitely needed help. 

He was about to walk away, again, when they flew in front of him. They flew, with their insect wings that were apparently not a prop. He blinked once, twice. 

“Could you--”

“You’re an actual fairy?” he interrupted.

“Uh yeah.”

“And you’re from the..Fairy Kingdom?” 

“Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying,” the fairy pouted and flapped their wings in a huff.

Tsukkishima found that action a little cute but kept it to himself. He was still processing all this.

You stopped pouting and fluttered to the ground. 

“Umm, so it seems I may have gotten myself a little lost and ended up here.” Looking up at him, you asked in your most pleading voice, “Could you maybe help me find my way back… please?”

He hesitated. He’s heard stories of deceiving fairies and how people said to not get into deals with them. Or maybe that was another fictional creature… Either way he wasn’t about to risk anything without the prospect of getting anything in return.

“What do I get? In return for helping you?”

“The satisfaction of doing a good thing?”

He shook his head, “Not good enough.”

“Ummmmm… I’ll owe you?”

“Hmm interesting offer,” he said with a smirk. “We can discuss that in detail later. For now, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

“Wait so are you going to help me?”

“Possibly.”

You cracked open a wide smile and jumped up in the air, flying alongside him as he walked down the path. 

“Thank you… What was your name? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“You can call me Tsukkishima.”

“Tsukkishima..that’s kinda long. I think I’ll just call you Tsukki,” you said with a grin. “By the way, my name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He cringed internally wondering what he had just gotten himself into. 

It’ll all be fine though. There’s no way this could be real. This was just some dream or hallucination brought on by his exhaustion from practice. Yes, that was it. He’ll gladly humor this fairy. It was just a dream anyway.

The next morning when he woke up, the first thing he saw was your face, wide-eyed curiously peering down on him.  

He let out a yelp and quickly reached for his glasses. 

Taking a deep breath, he calmed down and realized two things: he was late for school, and you were still here which meant… it wasn’t a dream after all.

A/N: qksnkd okk not my best fic,,, it feels incomplete somehow? idk maybe if i get some inspiration in the future i’ll consider writing more parts. also hoped tsukki wasn’t too ooc;-;

[keiscait]

hey, may i please request a bedroom matchup LOL 😏

she/her, bisexual (men over women (unless it's a big tittie goth gf)

sagittarius sun and virgo rising

ravenclaw 😏

sexual: i like being the top. call me mommy LOL. i also like being topped, i have a major knife kink 😏 im in charge most of the time, however it can change every now and then. when i'm the bottom i want my partner to spit in my mouth ��‍♀️ neck and ear bites plz 😏 i'm very vocal 👹👹

things i look for in a partner:

-LOYALTY!!1!1!2!2'

-has to have a good sense of humor

-chill

-very understanding

personality: i'm very outgoing and friendly to most people, but i keep my friend group small. i'm the loud friend of the group and i'm always trying my best to make my friends laugh. i say really weird things at the most random times and i often look really high so people think i'm on something. i'm a good leader though and take charge in the three sports i'm in. (i'm varsity captain in one of my sports!!)

appearance:

plans for future: i'm currently a senior in high school and i plan on going into the national guard or air force when i graduate :). the military will pay for college and i plan on either going into the criminal justice field or information technology field :p

music taste: literally everything except for country. you can catch me listening to dr dre, schoolboy q, blackstreet, and kendrick lamar one minute and then queen the next. i also love my female rap artists 👏👏 90s rock and rnb are also a must. i listen to 00's club music on a regular 😏

Hello and welcome, my dearest Bri! AND ADVANCED HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Wish I could bake you a cake, but all I can do is send some love (੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* Let’s get right to it then! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

Look who we have here, hon!

Suna Rintarou! (Runner up: Kageyama Tobio)

Suna here has a really cold and icy demeanor, which I think has to be balanced out by outgoing people (like the Miya twins). He likes to act like this dark and brooding person, but deep down, he’s actually just a little gremlin like most of us. 

- Okay okay, I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I already know that you’re a Suna stan, but I genuinely could not think of anybody who matches your personality description better, the two of you would just be *aggressive chefs kiss*

- I’m kinda getting an enemies-to-lovers-ish vibe with this dynamic, but also like a partners-in-crime-to-lovers type of deal. Either way, it’ll start out a little bit chaotic

- Has a crush on you immediately, I just KNOW it, but he won’t realize this until later on, and may even totally deny it to himself

- He doesn’t really know when exactly he starts catching feelings for you, but the realization probably hits him when he sees you going about your daily activities

- You could be doing any of your extra curriculars - basketball, track, or marching band - and he sees how much you enjoy it, or maybe even after you just said one of your random thoughts. Whatever makes him feel like he’s getting to know you a little bit better

- it’s when you laugh right after, and suddenly he feels like he’s just been spiked a ball in the face, and he just audibly goes “ah shit.”

- Has no fucking clue what to do at first KDHFKSJHL someone pls help him!!!

- He ends up being a little awkward when he tries to do anything about it, and it’ll all just feel so unnatural HAHAH

- “Let me carry your bag” “No Rin it’s fine I can--” *pries your bag from your hands with way too much force*

- in his mind he’s like “Ah yes that went perfectly 😌”

- he tries to communicate his feelings in little ways like this, hoping you’ll catch on

- No, Suna Rintarou, poking fun at someone is not a declaration of love, but nice try!

- he’ll get so frustrated if you don’t catch on (or maybe you do, and you just want him to say something first), and eventually will straight up yell tell you how he feels

- once you two are together, he’ll still try to act he’ll try to keep up his icy exterior, but trust me, he’s completely whipped for you

- SHARED PLAYLISTS!!!!

- Appreciates that you keep your friend group small, because at the end of the day, he’s still a pretty reserved guy

- Admires your leadership qualities, and will not be insecure and toxic about it, despite what other people believe. He honestly wishes he could be more like you, in that sense

- He’ll be your # 1 fan in everything you do. Will support whatever it is that you want to achieve, and will cut any bitch who tries to get in your way

- boy is in LOOOOOVE

- If he ever gets mad or annoyed at you, just give him the smallest peck on his cheek, and he’ll be all putty in your hands again

- Likewise, I think he’d be so good at making you blush too. It’s not all the time that he does this, but when he does, it’s 1000000% effective

- A FRICKING TEASE SKJDHFDSJFGLSGJ CHANGE MY MIND

- Honestly I love this dynamic so much that I wanna make him your bedroom matchup too, but I feel like that would be a cop out 

~

You were exhausted.

It was never easy juggling all the activities that you took part in - each of them was truly a labor of love. Today was particularly draining because it was, after all, your birthday, and it just HAD TO fall on a weekday. You plonked on your bed and started scrolling through your phone.

Your tight-knit group of friends continued to send you birthday wishes, despite having already done so when you saw them earlier that day. They had sung to you and let you blow out a birthday candle - it was all they could do, given your busy schedules. You looked forward to the weekend you had planned with them and your boyfriend, Rintarou.

Speaking of Rin, you thought to yourself, as a message notification from him popped up.

- You’re already home, right?

- Yeah! Just got here. So tired

- That’s too bad. I was gonna ask you to open the door for me but I guess I’ll just go home

You ran to your front door faster than you expected you could manage, and there stood Suna, a balloon and a box of pizza in hand. He pretended to walk away slowly, making you giggle before you grabbed him and dragged him inside.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Happy birthday, babe.”

You were giddy, not expecting him to show up. “I thought we were gonna wait til the weekend for my celebration??” 

“Do you not know me by now?” he chuckled. “As if I’d let today pass without doing anything about it.”

You smiled and looked at him for a few seconds. He rarely looks so sincere, and so warm, and you just wanted to drink up every last drop of this moment.

He teased, “But y’know, I guess if you’re too tired, I can totally scarf down this pizza by myself.”

You groaned before dragging him to your room and setting up the playlist you guys worked on together, getting ready for a night in.

~

I hope that was alright, bb! Let’s make our way to the bedroom now ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

For some private time, I’ve invited over...

Oikawa Tooru! (Runner up: Suna Rintarou)

Despite how other people believe he’s a dom, I think he’d be a switch, at best. I think in the bedroom, he’d love to let his partner take control, just as much as loves having his way with them.

- What really gets this fucker going is pleasing people - and who would he love to please more than his s/o?

- He loves how your confidence translates into your bedroom behavior

- I headcanon that he easily falls apart in bed, and would gladly do so for his partner 

- He is s e n s i t i v e. Touch him, kiss him, grab him EVERYWHERE

- LOUD, but a lot of it is trying to get his partner to be even louder

- How does this man have both a praise kink and a degradation kink? Idk but I’m so sure he has both

- Would be totally onboard with your knife kink. He’s super into sensory play

- Speaking of which

- BLINDFOLD HIMMMM SKDJHFSDJFK THAT WOULD BE A SIGHT TO BEHOLD

- Once you ask him to take charge, I think he would still be a service dom

- Knows all your sensitive spots. Made sure to take note of them so that he can get you back for all the times you hit his sweet spots

- Loves mouth stuff. His mouth. Your mouth. Putting stuff in them. Tongue stuff. Loves all of it

- Great at aftercare, just a bit flashy with it. Kind of makes a show of what he’s doing but in the most adorable way

- Delicate with how he handles you after. Or if you’re the one giving him aftercare, would praise you the whole time

- Will hold you til you fall asleep 🥺

~

As a little extra gift, I wanted to give you a dressing room matchup too! 

I think your gorgeous face would look SO GOOD with...

Miya Atsumu! WHAT AN INSANELY GOOD LOOKING COUPLE YOU WOULD MAKE

~

That’s it for now, darling! I hope that was worth all the waiting you did. Thank you for being such a wonderful housemate - don’t hesitate to chat with me anytime. Advanced happy birthday again! (੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*

Thanks for stopping by! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

[sinsforjeon]

Mentor ||Kim Seokjin||

[JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU GIYS SO MUCH FOR 3k FOLLOWERS-🥺🥺🥺 ily💖💖💖]

—————

You groaned loudly as you messed for the nth time, still not getting the shape right.

You puffed your cheeks, frowning down at your creation, it didn’t look right it was as if something was missing but you couldn’t tell what it was.

“What the fuck am I doing?” You groaned loudly as you gently knocked your head against the wall behind you.

“Language, young lady.”

A deep voice reprimanded behind you and you swear you’ve never apologized that fast before, bowing several times as you let out an endless strings of ‘sorries’.

Mr Kim was your mentor, someone who was assigned to guide whenever you needed advice or just someone to talk to when things got a little too hard.

You never talked to him though and not because you didn’t have any struggles because lord knows you needed the support but because of how intimidating he was, hell you couldn’t even look at the man in his eyes let alone hold a conversation with him.

“What’s got you so heated?”

“Huh? O-Oh it’s nothing, I’m so sorry-“

Seokjin chuckled as he made his way over to where you previously sat, the chair abandoned in the midst of your apologies so he opted to stand behind you.

You were stiff, biting down on your lip in hopes to not let anything embarrassing out. He smelled so good and it made it hard for you to focus.

“Ah, I see what’s wrong here,” he trailed off, his voice so soft yet so deep it sent shivers down your spine. His warm breath washed over your skin and it took everything in you to not melt into a puddle of nothingness onto the floor.

“Y-You do?”

“Mhm, here let me,” he trailed off as he got closer, his arms going around your waist and hands taking yours in his, “you just made a silly mistake, angel. Nothing we can’t fix.”

You didn’t know how to respond but your hands sure did, they shook in his hold causing the man behind you to chuckle softly.

“Steady hands, Y/N, steady hands.” He whispered, his hands enclosing around yours as he took the half done bowl in your hands.

You took a deep breath as you let the clay move gently between your hands. You were so focused that you had almost forgotten about the man behind you.

“Good girl.” He praised causing your cheeks to heat up and by the chuckle that left his lips you could tell he was amused.

Seokjin suddenly moved away from you and you couldn’t help the whine that left your pouty lips causing the man to coo softly as he made his way around you where he now stood in front of you.

He looked like a walking sin, no one should ever be allowed to look this good. You hadn’t realized that your focus was now entirely on him and not the clay in your hands.

“Focus, sweetheart.” His voice snapped you out of your reverie and you let out a small sound at the back of your throat before averting your eyes away from his.

“You’re very endearing you know?”

“Excuse me?”

Kim Seokjin only smirked as he watched you with those mischievous eyes. This man could tell you to do something and you would do it with no hesitation.

“If I had known you were this cute then I would’ve came around often.”

“C-Cute?”

You squeaked out, almost choking on your words. He only hummed as he turned off the machine causing you to stop your work.

“C’mere.” It was a command but he said so softly you couldn’t help but to go to him immediately.

“Such a messy girl, hm?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

He chuckled at your words as he brought both of your hands under the sink, his larger ones enveloping your smaller ones.

“I-I could’ve done that for myself you know?”

“Yes, but I wanted to do it, you don’t mind do you?”

He finished his sentence with a tilt of his head and you found yourself shaking your head because you didn’t mind at all.

“No?”

You shook your head again and he hummed quietly before flashing you his cute smile.

“Try and use your words, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah.”

You needed to get a hold of yourself, stuttering and staring was definitely not the way to go.

“Mr Kim?”

“Seokjin.”

“Huh?”

“That’s my name so call me that.”

You nodded slowly at his words and it felt weird to call someone who was your senior by their name.

“S-Seokjin?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You found yourself blushing at the nickname, you couldn’t help it.

“What did you want?”

“Do I need to make an appointment to see the student I was assigned to?”

Your eyes widened as you quickly shook your head, worried that you might’ve offended him.

“No! I mean no, sorry it’s just you never really come around so-“

“I need to change that then, yes?”

You only nodded as he helped you dry off your hands. It was silent for a couple of minutes and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder to his face.

“Pretty.”

“Hm?”

Fuck- you said it out loud and there was no going back from this now.

“...Nothing.”

He only chuckled as he let go of your hands and making his way to the door.

You let out a huge breath thinking he was going to leave but that moment didn’t last when you heard the lock click.

“Mr K- um Seokjin? W-What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?”

“Yes?”

Seokjin only shrugged as he backed you up the sink behind you. He was intimidating so intimidating that you couldn’t look into his eyes for more than 10 seconds.

“Will you look at me, doll?”

You didn’t hesitate, your eyes finding his immediately.

“What’s got you so flushed, hm? Is it me?”

You were at a loss of words as you bit your lip suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

“Don’t do that.”

“Hm?”

He raised his hands before cupping your face gently, his thumb releasing your bottom lip from the tight grip of your teeth.

“Is this ok?” He asked, his voice feathery soft and you couldn’t help but nod as you leaned into his touch.

“Words?”

“Yes.”

That was all Seokjin needed before he placed his lips over yours. It was gentle and soft, he tilted your head as he slowly took over your mouth and you gladly let him.

One hand slid down to your neck and loosely wrapping around it as he caressed your tongue with his.

Jin pulled away and you whined with closed eyes as you chased after his lips for more. The man chuckled as he tightened his hold on your neck to keep you in place.

“Be good for me, doll, yes?”

You nodded and he brought your face closer to his again only to brush his lips against yours teasingly causing you to whine quietly.

“So impatient, what do you want, baby?”

“You.”

“You have me.”

You blushed at his words before hesitantly wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Kiss me.”

“Kiss you?”

He asked and you nodded before he gave you a playful smirk before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Nooo.”

“No? You wanted a kiss and I gave you a kiss.”

“Not there.”

He raised a brow at you as to ask where you wanted the kiss and with an impatient huff you roughly smashed your lips together.

Jin returned the same energy, quickly taking over the kiss as his hands ran all over your body and somehow ended up under your shirt where they cupped your covered breasts causing you to whimper against his lips.

“So fucking needy.” He muttered under his breath as he broke the messy kiss and you only giggled as you tried to pull him in for more but he was having none of it.

He quickly wrapped a hand around your neck just like before to keep you from moving anywhere.

“I’ve been here for long enough,” He breathed out as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, “I’ll see you again but until then-“ He smirked as he looked between your lips and eyes before leaning closer to your right ear.

“Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

And with that Kim Seokjin left but not without another kiss on your forehead and you could not wait until he came in again.

[asparagus-writes]

If I get my way Chapter One

Summary: Jackie has had a crush on Jan ever since they were 12. They were close since preschool but drifted apart at the start of high school. Now it’s senior year and Jackie’s life seems to be falling apart in front of her eyes. Will she be able to make the best out of a  bad situation? Will the arrival of the beautiful new girl help or hinder her?

There across the hall stood the owner of Jackie’s heart in all her blonde glory. Jan had her hair up in a high ponytail and was wearing a knee length purple dress. They had been friends since preschool when the Persian’s family had first moved to New York from Canada. Since the start of high school Jan had taken up theatre, cheerleading and soccer so her and Jackie barely spent time together other than  their annual monthly sleepovers. To say it didn’t bother her would be a lie. 

“…Jackie!” Widow called reaching over to give her friend’s shoulder a gentle shake. “Hmmn” The Persian questioned. “You were staring at Jan, again weren’t you?” Widow teased. “What! No… I…” The Persian started but was cut off by Widow. “Relax I won’t tell but I would recommend you make a move before Friday.” The taller girl assured her. 

“Why?” Jackie inquired as she continued to take her required books out of her locker. “I heard that Greg was going to ask her out after the game.” Widow answered quietly as Jackie shut her locker. 

“Quarterback Greg?” The Persian asked. The taller girl nodded with a sad smile. Jackie felt her heart drop to her stomach. 

“We have to get to English before Mrs Del Rio throws a bitch fit again.” Widow warned taking her by the arm before they set off towards the English classes on the second floor. 

On their way across the hall and towards the stairs someone slammed into Jackie  causing her to fall forward and into the strong arms of a beautiful blonde girl.

  ” Are you ok?” The girl asked. “...Yeah...” Jackie replied as she stared into the girls beautiful blue eyes. Jackie felt like she could drown in them. The girl stared back.

 “I would be happy that Jackie found her knight in shining armour under normal circumstances. Almost being late to Mrs Del Rio's class isn’t one of those circumstances though!” Widow's words brought Jackie back to reality. The French girl let go of Jackie’s waist. Widow instantly grabbed the Persian by the arm and started rushing up the stairs.

 They got there with a minute to spare. ”I can’t believe you! First you made the stupid knight in shining armour comment and then you don’t t even let me introduce myself or apologise for almost crushing her!” The Persian exclaimed in annoyance. “We both know if you were ever going to apologise or introduce yourself you’d have done it after she asked you if you’re ok. You’re just salty that you can’t continue staring at her.” The taller girl replied with a grin. 

Due to some jocks who couldn’t keep quiet they had assigned seats which meant that Widow sat in the Middle of the class between Heidi and Crystal leaving Jackie alone in the back.

 As soon as the bell rang a stream of students entered the classroom. Widow sat down at her desk giving Jackie a look that meant they’d be continuing the conversation later. A few seconds later a few more students entered followed by their teacher.

Someone that caught the Persian’s attention. It was the flawless shorter blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that sparkled with a hint of mischief. “Settle down. Settle down. We have a lot of work to get through today ." Mrs Del Rio announced as she put her laptop bag and her coffee down on her desk before moving to stand next to the French girl. 

“We have a new student today. This is Nicky Doll. She’s an exchange student from France. You can sit in the back next to Jackie.” She said pointing to Jackie. Nicky just nodded and made her way over to Jackie. “We meet again.” The blonde grinned. “Sorry about earlier.” The brunette replied awkwardly as she stared at her desk avoiding eye contact. 

“No worries. Do you by any chance know where my next three classes are?” Nicky asked, handing Jackie her timetable. Jackie looked at Nicky for the first time since the French girl sat down. 

Jackie took in as much of her appearance as possible. She was met with those sparkly blue eyes, high cheekbones, plump kissable lips covered in Rose coloured lipstick. Jackie’s gaze travelled down scanning her outfit from her black leather jacket and her crop top that ended a bit above her belly button exposing a bit of her toned abs to her black skirt that ended mid thigh and accentuated her  tanned legs and finally her black ankle boots. Nicky cleared her throat snapping the Persian out of her trance.

 “ At least buy me dinner first!” The French girl giggled “Oh!... No!... No it’s not like that!” Jackie babbled getting extremely red. ”Relax I get it you're not into girls.” Nicky’s smile dropped slightly. “Oh no! No, I'm into girls. It’s just that...” Jackie tried explaining without making the situation any more awkward. “Oh there’s someone else! Who’s the lucky girl?” Nicky asked with a smile.

 “Oh no I’m not dating anyone. I’m in love with this girl though. She’s beautiful, kind, extremely funny.  She’s always smiling. I’ve known her since I was six. But that doesn’t matter.” The Persian’s whole mood fell instantly. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Nicky asked confusedly.

 “There’s this football player and he’s going to ask her out Friday night after the big game.” Jackie explained sadly. “Well it’s only Tuesday so you still have time!” Nicky cheerfully.  You're right....” Jackie replied with a small smile. 

“Ok you’ve got  Math with Heidi and Rock next. Then Science with me and finally History with Widow before lunch.” The brunette changed the topic. ”I’ll introduce you to Heidi after class, but for now we should probably pay attention.” Jackie gave her a small smile. 

Thirty minutes later the bell rang signifying the end of the period. Jackie had managed to take decent notes for the rest of the period.

She quickly put her books and pencil bag in her backpack before she rushed to where Heidi and Widow were putting away their books.  

“Hey Heidi. Nicky has Math with Mrs Visage now too, do you mind showing her where to go and letting her sit with you and Rock?” Jackie asked as Nicky made her way towards them. “Sure! I’ll gladly take her under my wing.” Heidi answered with a mischievous smile as she quickly made her way to Nicky. 

“Come on new girl! We can’t be late for math.” She said as she pulled Nicky out of the class and down the hall. ”I wonder what kind of ‘brilliant’ idea she came up with this time?” Widow smiled and just shook her head as they made their way to Mrs Petruschin’s biology class at the other end of the second floor hallway.

AN:  This is my first Rpdr fanfic. Lots of love to Zyan for not only encouraging me to post this but assisting me with my tumblr issues earlier. This has now been edited. (thanks again Zyan )

[osakaso5]

Spirit Kaleidoscope: Empty Absolution

Chapter 2 - The First Squadron and the Second Squadron

Chapter Index

Katanashu Station - Corridor

Madoka: ...And that's about all of the station. Phew, I'm beat.

Madoka: It's a big building with lots of facilities, but you'll learn to find your way around in about two or three days, give or take. Are we finally done?

Momiji: Yeah. I'll do the rest of the tour myself.

Madoka: And I don't have to guide you to the Grand Gate near the grounds... right?

Momiji: The Grand Gate... You mean the torii-like structure that connects to the human world? I passed through it on my way here, so I should know where it is just fine.

Madoka: ...Speaking of which, how did you get all the way from there to the reception room? Must've been difficult to find.

Momiji: The shikigami waiting in front of the gate showed me the way.

Madoka: Ah... Now that you mention it, I guess we did leave one there to serve as a guide some time ago.

Momiji: Though as soon as I left the reception room, it turned into a guard.

Madoka: Ahaha! Yeah, it was straddling you on the floor. That was hilarious.

Momiji: ...Why do the shikigami attack people? They're supposed to be under human control. Though I did hear that they're very dedicated to their duties during my training.

Madoka: You're not wrong about them being dedicated. That's why the one you were with stopped you from going anywhere other than the place you were guided to.

Momiji: ...I see. So they're not very smart.

Madoka: They can only follow simple orders, but they're still convenient. They never get tired, and they do their duties diligently. You can even play go with them if you teach them the rules.

Madoka: ...Come to think of it, you were trying to cut through the one from earlier... Can't you use shikigami properly?

Momiji: I know how, I just haven't done it before.

Madoka: Gimme a break. You better learn how to use them even a little bit, because I'm not going to handhold you through everything.

Madoka: The shikigami take care of all our daily chores, like guarding, cooking, and cleaning.

Momiji: ........

Madoka: Hm? Cat got your tongue?

Momiji: No... I'm just realizing how different this is from the world I used to live in...

Madoka: No kidding. Over there, it's all political tension and infighting, and over here, it's swords, yokai, and supernatural realms...

Madoka: This place is like a horror movie. But it's still more peaceful than being a soldier in the capital.

Madoka: I didn't know a world like this existed before I got assigned to the katanashu, either.

Momiji: Yokai, huh...

Momiji: Do they really exist? I haven't even gotten to go to that city they supposedly live in, so I'm still not entirely convinced...

Madoka: They do.

Momiji: ...You've seen them?

Madoka: Seen them, talked to them, touched them. They're flesh and blood here, just like you and me.

Momiji: ........

Momiji: Then, that really was...

Madoka: ...Hm? Did you say something?

Momiji: Ah, no...

Madoka: .....? Well, whatever.

Madoka: Never mind that, you said you had training before coming here? Did they tell you what your duty is as a katanashu?

Momiji: Yeah. Just the basics of it, though.

Momiji: "The katanashu are the capital's top secret organization. Its purpose is to monitor the Yokai of Hikagemachi, and it has two primary duties."

Momiji: "Controlling the yokai's travels to the human realm, and making sure humans lost in Hikagemachi are returned home safely."

Madoka: Wow, that was perfect! I've got nothing left to teach you. Can I go back to my room now?

Momiji: ........

Madoka: Geez, don't glare at me like that... Learn to take a joke...

Momiji: By the way, I heard that we were to use our abilities to erase the  memories of any human who wanders into Hikagemachi.

Madoka: Yeah. If we let them blab about their trip to the yokai world, the whole country would be in chaos.

Madoka: Way back when the katanashu didn't even exist... It might've been more common for yokai to live in the human world.

Madoka: A long time ago, they lived so close to us that humans who wanted a piece of yokai power could worship them as gods, or even enslave them using contracts.

Madoka: That stuff's banned nowadays. I guess the yokai got sick of being used by humans, and moved here.

Momiji: Getting lost in another world... It's like being spirited away.

Madoka: Especially if you've never been here before. Like I said before, the human and yokai worlds basically mirror each other.

Madoka: Even our station should have its equivalent in the human world, though we can't see it.

Momiji: Maybe they're on different wavelengths, or something... Like electromagnetic waves that you can't see with the naked eye?

Madoka: Maybe? I don't know the specifics, and I don't really care.

Madoka: In any case, it's not actually uncommon for people to wander in here by accident.

Momiji: ...I see. So that's what they need the katanashu for.

Madoka: Hmm... Is that all there is to it..?

Madoka: It's not rare for humans to end up here, but it's still only around 4 to 5 people a year.

Momiji: ...Then what do the katanashu do when they're not taking care of lost humans?

Madoka: Nothing, really?

Momiji: ...Nothing?

Madoka: Yeah. Nothing. Ah. I guess Commander Kasane plays games? With playing cards and stuff.

Momiji: Playing cards...

Madoka: And hanafuda, too.

Momiji: Hanafuda...

Madoka: If only we could use phones. We're not even allowed to bring electronics here. Not that I could get a signal here.

Madoka: Can you believe  that's not possible in this day and age!? I can't get in touch with girls! I can't check my social media timelines!

Madoka: It feels like I've been kicked out of the real world... I don't even know what I'm living for in this cryptic realm.

Momiji: .......

Madoka: Sigh, I wanna go home soon... It's getting to a point where I'd gladly get fired, and I don't mind resigning whenever.

???: Cowardly as always, Madoka.

Madoka: Ugh..! ...Commander Hanabusa. My humblest apologies..!

Hanabusa: If you wish to return to the capital so badly, I'll gladly  have you repatriated together  with a report letting them know that you're abandoning your post.

Madoka: I-I was only joking, of course. A new member has joined our squadron, so I thought I'd make him feel more at home..

Hanabusa: Hmph. Your mouth still runs endlessly.

Momiji: .......

Madoka: Allow me to introduce you. This is Momiji, who'll be in the second squadron starting today.

Momiji: My name is Momiji. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Hanabusa: Right.

Madoka: Momiji, this is Commander Hanabusa. He was sent by the capital to be the katanashu's superior officer.

Madoka: He serves as an inspector outside of his military duties. Make sure to treat him with the appropriate respect.

Momiji: Yes.

Hanabusa: His conduct is fine, but he's arrived a bit late.

Madoka: Well, uh... We had a bit of a mixup...

Hanabusa: More like negligence. This is Kasane's second squadron we're talking about. It's hard to imagine you doing your jobs properly.

Madoka: Ahaha...

Hanabusa: You must've been very unlucky to have been assigned to this group of slackers.

Momiji: Not at all. I will abide by any decisions the military makes for me.

Hanabusa: ...Hmm.

???: Commander Hanabusa, are you here!?

Hanabusa: What is it, Aoi? It's rare to see you so flustered.

Aoi: We've received a message from the capital, and... The general has  something to tell you directly.

Hanabusa: ...The general? Hand me the message.

Aoi: Yes. 

Rustle...

Hanabusa: .......

Madoka: Eep... The general's practically at the top of the chain! What would a head honcho like him want with the katanashu..?

Momiji: .......

Aoi: ...I haven't seen you before.

Momiji: I'll be working in the second squadron starting today. You can call me Momiji.

Aoi: ...A newbie, huh. I'm Aoi, of the first squadron. Nice to meet you. Since we're in different teams, I doubt we'll interact much.

Momiji: Yeah.

Madoka: By the way, the first squadron has one more member. But now that I think about it, I haven't seen him all morning...

Aoi: He's probably wandering around Hikagemachi again. Or maybe he's wasting his time loitering around that ramen shop?

Madoka: Again? He's a weird one, for sure.

Aoi: What a disgrace... I just hope he doesn't cause trouble again.

Aoi: I don't want anything to do with his problems, even if we are in the same squadron.

Momiji: "Again"..?

Madoka: Whoa... That's cold, dude. He's still your senior, isn't he?

Aoi: He's someone who caused so many problems in the capital that he was demoted twice. Senior or not, I find it hard to want anything to do with him.

Madoka: Yeah, but still.

Momiji: ...What kind of trouble did this person cause..?

Madoka: Who knows. I'm not sure, myself. Why don't you just ask him?

Momiji: Right...

Aoi: That aside, what did the general's message say, Commander?

Hanabusa: .......

Momiji: ......?

Momiji: What? Why do I feel like Commander Hanabusa's glaring at me..?

Hanabusa: ...It wasn't anything too important.

Hanabusa: The general was only reminding us of the soldiers' grave we live in. It was quite vile.

Momiji: Soldiers' grave..?

Aoi: What does that mean, sir..?

Hanabusa: You... Momiji, right?

Momiji: ......? Yes.

Hanabusa: Here's your first lesson from me. Don't get carried away, thinking you're any better than the rest of us.

Momiji: ........

Hanabusa: I don't know how they treated you in the capital, but I'm in charge here. If I catch you doing anything out of order, know that you'll be punished for it.

Hanabusa: Don't get too comfortable, and focus on your duties. Understand?

Momiji: ........ I understand.

Madoka: Whoa...

Hanabusa: Madoka, I'm saying this to you, as well. Pass this message to  your commander too, while you're at it.

Madoka: ...Yessir!

Hanabusa: Let's go, Aoi.

Madoka: ...Ugh, I'm soooo tired..! At least they're finally gone... Those dudes give me the creeps..!

Madoka: Commander Hanabusa and Aoi are too goddamn serious. They're always looking down on the second squadron. Some call him Commander Ogre, but that's not exactly a popular nickname.

Momiji: He was pretty harsh on me. I don't remember offending him in any way, though...

Madoka: ...Pfft. Guess it was hate at first sight?

Momiji: Seems that way.

Madoka: You don't seem to mind.

Momiji: I'm used to it.

Madoka: ...To being hated? Maybe you should try being less anti-social, then?

Momiji: I make sure not to waste energy on useless things. No matter how I deal with other people, it's always the same.

Madoka: Hmm?

Madoka: Well, Commander Hanabusa's basically always like that. He's constantly on edge because he's such a glory hound.

Momiji: Glory hound? How come?

Madoka: Because he wants to return to his post in the capital. Unlike the rest of us, he's still working for them. That's why he's always showing off what an elite he is.

Madoka: Seems like he was well on his way to the top, but as you could see, he's stubborn and not too flexible. Some say he was shipped off to the katanashu because he was such a pain to deal with.

Madoka: Not that there's any glory to be found around here.

Momiji: .......

Madoka: At least the two of us should more or less get along, yeah? I get tired when things are too tense, and I don't want any trouble.

Momiji: Agreed. Too much tension will get in the way of our duties.

Madoka: Haha. You really are a serious guy. Welcome to the katanashu again, Momiji.

Momiji: Yeah.

Madoka: ...Is this finally enough info for you? Aagh, I'm beat! I'm gonna go to my room and take a nap.

Momiji: ...Hold on. Aren't you going to show me around the city?

Madoka: Huh? The city?

Momiji: I want to see the city for my duties' sake. And there's something I'm curious about...

Madoka: Ugh... Only a weirdo would want to go to a city swarming  with yokai voluntarily.

Madoka: Not that I'll stop you. Wait a sec. Uh, I think it's around here...

Momiji: .....?

Madoka: Ah, found it! ...Here, you can have this.

Momiji: A piece of paper..? It looks pretty old...

Madoka: It's a map of Hikagemachi. Use it. You'll be fine by yourself as long as you have that, right?

Momiji: ...Huh?

Madoka: Like I said, I'm off duty. I was up all night playing five-in- a-row, so I've been sleepy all morning... Yawn...

Momiji: Five-in-a-row...

Madoka: Alright, you're free to go. We don't exactly have a curfew, so come back whenever you're done scoping the city out.

Madoka: Seeya~.

Momiji: ........

To be continued...

[pancakebutton]

Teacher X Reader Part II

Summary: Your teacher is having a hard time keeping it together with you constantly on his mind. Teaching your class period is when it gets the worst, sometimes he has to step out of the room just to recompose himself. It’s beginning to be the same for you, even when you hang out with your new friends, he is always in the back of your mind. And one of your new friends wants to get a little too close for your teachers comfort.

Warnings: Foul Language

Word Count: 13,250

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Sexual, Series.

Pairing: Insert Teacher X Reader

Masterlist

Part One

.

God why the hell did she have to be so beautiful.

It had only been a week. One week is all it took for this girl to drive me insane! I pushed the stack of papers on my desk aside knowing there was no way I could get through them, especially now. I couldn’t help it anymore, this week’s pent-up special tension made my cock swell from the dirty thoughts I had for her. And that Matt kid is the worst of it, he’s been relentlessly flirting with (Y/n) every day up until now. I knew if it were my way, she’d be bent over my desk this second.

I stood from that very desk and gathered my things, I had to quickly get home, my body-no my cock ached to be touched. Right before I made it out the door to my truck a familiar voice stopped me.

“Hey (T/n)! Going home already? Finally got done with those quizzes huh?”

Madeline Crossland. Or Miss C for short, she’s the English teacher across the hallway from me and she has been driving me crazy since I’ve gotten here.

“Misses Crossland, ha, so nice to see you again. How’s the vocab card grading?”

“You’re avoiding my questions (T/Nickname), why in such a rush?”

“Just a little tired. Especially since I’m not used to getting up so early, it being by first year and all, also please don’t call me that Miss it’s not formal”.

She looked a little displeased at my last remark but I could honestly care less.

“Oh (T/Nickname) I thought we were friends? Well I could help you settle in with some dinner, how about that new place downtown?”

“I’m a little preoccupied at the moment Miss Crossland. Goodnight”.

I didn’t wait for a response as I pushed past the door and walked towards my beloved truck. But of course she followed, that’s just the type of person she is, however this time she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Madeline then ran in front of me and blocked me from walking away, “look (T/n) I’ll cut to the chase, I think you’re attractive and my type and I know you’re single so stop beating around the bush and just give me one night”.

I sighed, “I’m sorry Madeline, but I just don’t feel the same way. Plus, I’m not looking for a one night stand”. After that I pushed myself through her superficial barrier, got into my truck, and quickly drove off.

Ugh I hate whores like her who think they’re entitled to every man they look at just because they think they’re attractive.

This then only got my blood pumping again. My mind crept into the depths of my thoughts that held endless fantasies about (Y/n). Who was I kidding, she’s barely about to be eighteen and with a student to teacher relationship it would never work out. Maybe I should have taken up Madeline’s offer just to keep her off my mind.

Stupid (T/n) what are you thinking! I’m supposed to be the one she looks to for help not to fuck. Ugh, maybe just keeping to my thoughts and fantasies are what’s best and I shouldn’t act on them.

But damn did she not make that statement easy.

.

I scanned over my notecards one more time, double checking I knew every answer to every question.

Amendment eight; right to no cruel or unusual punishments, fifteen; right to vote, twenty-fifth; presidential disability and-

“I knew you were a good student Miss Maine, but I hope you don’t find my quizzes that hard”.

I look up to a smiling Mr. (T/C), amused at my pre-test study situation.

“Good morning (T/C), and no but I always doubt myself into thinking I don’t know anything. Also did you see Matthews’ goal last night? What beauty!”

Mr. (T/C) simply laughed that basically dunked my panties in a bucket of water every time.

“He’s the man Miss Maine I can tell you that eh.” He then clapped his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Alright class ready for that quiz?”

Everyone except me groaned in response.

That quiz was my first one-hundred percent and I felt as if I were floating on the moon when Mr. (T/C) beamed when he saw my score. It’s so hard not to think of him, at first I just thought he was a chill teacher and don’t get me wrong, he is, but I’ve slowly found more and more things enticing about him.

I wouldn’t call it stalking, I just so happened to be in the right place at the right moment. Like how when I was picking up my little sister from middle school, I saw him slowly pass me in the school zone in his shiny, gorgeous, white truck. So now I know where he parks. Or how Mr. Rielly, one of Mr. (T/C)’s close friends, was talking to my math teacher about how he so happens to be single. Small things.

Morgan is what snapped me out of thought.

“Hey (Y/n), the guys are gonna go out to Stella’s tonight, Al’s treatin’, it’ll be fun you should come. Kaitlyn offered to take everyone.”

“I guess why not, got nothin’ else to do.”

And so I was then rushed into a nice looking black SUV packed with my closest friends. We were only halfway through the semester as winter was coming close.

Music blared through the speakers and we all were basically screaming the lyrics.

“I KEEP IT JUICY JUICY, I EAT THAT LUNCH, SHE KEEP THAT BOOTY BOOTY, SHE KEEP THAT PLUMP!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, these people were the ones that truly made me happy and it was nice to have a night out. Luckily for passerby’s, we finally stopped screaming bloody murder as we had arrived at the sit-in restaurant.

We walked in as Allen and Matt began greeting people over the counter. Anyone could tell they were close friends with the owner, and managed to squeeze us in a good spot at the back where it was quieter. We sat down, ordered our food, got drinks, and began conversing amongst ourselves. Occasionally someone would say a joke to the whole group and we’d all laugh along, but I mostly talked to Mo and Matt.

“So Matts, when does high school hockey start here?”

“Oh here in a few weeks, I’m so excited to be back on the ice, you’ll come to my games right? You know hockey is better seen in person and not on your phone.”

“Oh haha, but yes I’ll gladly come watch the other teams whoop your ass Williams.”

“Puhlease (Y/L/N) you don’t even know how to play hockey.”

“But I sure as hell know how to watch it.”

He chuckled in an obviously flirtatious way. I could tell our little jabs at each other meant more than we were letting on. It was obvious he was flirting with me because he liked me, the problem? He’s sweet and totally handsome, it’s just he seems more like a brother than a boyfriend. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m leading him on.

I take a bite into my burger and look up to see Mr. (T/C) with a drink in hand by the bar with a few of his buddies. They were watching the Leafs play the Jets and I caught a glimpse of his eyes quickly dart away from our direction. I nearly choked on a piece of hamburger at the site. There stood Mr. (T/C) in all his glory, after teasing me about every loss my team had faced, here he was in a Maple Leafs Jersey.

Honestly it was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear, and I love a man in uniform. He looked back over, this time directly at me, and I smirked in such utter cockiness I could have been a Bruins fan. He smiled meekly and pointed down at his jersey that just fit him so well. I could tell he was laughing and turned around, there on the back was the name ‘Matthews’ and it really did surprise me.

That’s why he likes me so much.

I smiled to myself at the memory that I would keep in my mind forever. I smiled through our meal, our way back home, and when I got in bed, gently falling asleep.

The next morning when Mr. (T/C) greeted me at the door, the first words out of my mouth were:

“Did you see Matthews’ hat trick last night? I bet you loved that.”

“And I bet there is no way they are winning against Tampa tonight.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Whatever you want.”

.

“What if we spiced the assembly’s up a little bit?”

I was sitting next to Allen in our leadership class, we were basically the ones who organized all school social events like homecoming, prom, dances, candy grams, bake sales, rose giving, that sort of thing. One of our newest projects was to help the principal with the assembly’s and he wanted more involvement from the students.

So who better to go to? Me and Allen were basically the brightest social lites in the room. Allen with basically half the entire school on his snap, mostly girls to fuck, but still people. To others I was extroverted, loud, fun to be around, but only my closest friends knew I was really the exact opposite. So who better to lead it?

“I would like to volunteer myself to lead the assembly Mrs. Schroeder, I have some friends who would love to help out too and I have a lot of ideas for the assembly.”

“Well let’s hear em Williams.”

The day of the assembly quickly came as the obnoxiously large gym and risers were filled with hundreds of students of all ages. After principal Dubois settled the room, he handed the microphone over to me and I’d do the rest, “give it up for Matthieu Williams!” The gym then was filled with applause as the lights dimmed, popular music boomed, and smoke machines and lights went off.

“Good morning Rochester High!”

A smattering applause followed.

“Thank you all for participating in our first spirit week here at our school, with freshman white.”

Part of the freshman class stood to cheer but cringely fell short.

“Sophomores red.”

The entire sophomore class boomed in comparison to their lower classmen.

“Juniors blue.”

The junior class rivaled the sophomores of course.

“And seniors red, white, and blue!”

And though the senior class was the smallest, they managed to out-do the other classes.

“Now at the end of the assembly we have asked our counselors to judge the classes spirit based on a point system that includes: the loudest, the most inclusion of color, the most participation, best cooperation, and bonus points that will be determined with smaller competitions lead by none other than the stunning (Y/n) (Y/L/N)!”

The entire gym exploded with cheers. I had briefly looked over at (Y/n) to see her smiling. Good.

“I’ll hand it over to her then.”

I handed the microphone to (Y/n) and her bubbly personality shone through her voice.

“Good morning Rockets!”

While the students applauded again, a spotlight slowly began to appear and move around.

“Now, our football team is about to head off to face our rivals today...the Skyview Hawks!”

A wave of boos followed as our mascot ran onto the gym floor followed by a student sloppily dressed as a hawk.

“Lets cheer on our mascot Rocket Richard as he beats Hathaway the Hawk like our football team will tonight!”

The “fight” had obviously been staged so Richard won but you could almost feel the excitement and adrenaline flowing throughout the room that only made us crazier. After the match more wrestling mats were rolled out along the gym floor.

“Now for our next event, I need your guys’ help. I need a boy and a girl from each class to come down to the center of the gym floor with me please!”

As expected, the most athletic and popular students from each class came down.

“We also have a fun surprise for ya, they weren’t told this, but I also need the following teachers and administrators to the center too! Mrs. Hansen, Mr. (T/C), Mr. McKinney, Miss Crossland, Mr. and Mrs. Sikes, Principal Dubois, and Vice Principal Mr. Ladel!”

This was Kaitlyn’s idea. A student versus teacher competition would most certainly rally everyone especially when you take the most popular teachers. The lights then came back on so everyone could see the set up we had.

“Now everyone will have a partner who helps them in this race. First, one person will start back here at the end of the court, run to the center, pick up a basketball and shoot it. After they make one shot they must run back where their partner will be in a sleeping bag and they will have to drag them down and back.

Then, they will be placed in front of those tables filled with delicious food and will have to eat all of it. They then go to their respected classes and take a selfie with them. And lastly they must be sitting in chairs that will be set in the middle, there are only twelve chairs so four people will be kicked out.”

The students then “oooo’d” in excitement. Then the teams lined up with their partners in sleeping bags behind them. I noticed Mr. (T/C) ready to go with his other senior teacher Mrs. Hansen behind him. Then a buzzer went off to start the race, and damn it was intense. At the end a teacher threw a student right before they sat on a chair, and the senior students came in first, but that wasn’t the end of the competition.

“Now for a fun game of musical chairs!”

Everyone laughed and cheered as the students and teachers walked around the chairs in a circle. When it was just Mr. (T/C) and a popular freshman left, Mr. (T/C) pulled the chair right under the kid and stole it from him. It was hilarious tons of people were bent over or on the ground laughing their asses off. I knew this would be great.

“Thank you all for participating and congratulations to the cheater Mr. (T/C), any words?”

“I did what I had to do.”

This made everyone laugh even harder if that was even possible.

“And now for the spirit competition results!”

A random counselor passed a paper over to (Y/n) and she opened it.

“...And the winners are...The Seniors!!!!!”

[sr-023]

Feeling the Big Decay  v 0.6

Despite her position of seniority within Valorant it’s rare that Viper leads operations in the field.

Command naturally falls to Brimstone, and in his absence they’re seldom without one of Sage’s calm and steady judgement, Cypher’s peerless intelligence or Breach’s hard-hitting tactics and bullish confidence to pick up the slack. There’s enough accumulated experience and competence between them to allow Valorant’s co-founder to consolidate her stranglehold on R&D, and Viper all too gladly leaves them to divvy out the grunt work. Why should she waste her efforts on trivial matters that someone else can handle?

It takes something more exceptional to draw her onto the battlefield: a desire to document and further refine her latest toxins; close-quarters engagements that demand her ability to clear a room at minimal personal risk, third-parties more receptive to those like herself and Reyna than their more clean-cut peers. Atlas.

Today it is Atlas, and so, with Brimstone offering support from reserve, she leads.

---

Smoke rising from the blacksite is still high on the horizon even though they’ve left it long behind. Raze’s work is messy in its artistry but undeniably effective, and any rebuilding effort is bound to be costly, slow. That enough of their records survived the fireworks to give Cypher something worth poring over is just the cherry on top. It’s about as ‘clean’ an operation as one can hope for with the Brazilian on the team, and that’s notable enough to be a thing worth celebrating. Small wonder then that Brimstone caved and let her choose the in-flight soundtrack for the journey home.

Her music thunders through the hold - Se o papo é racista, dedo médio, fuck you – almost loud enough to have Viper gritting her teeth behind her mask. There’s no escape from the noise even far back by the cargo doors, and were she not well acquainted with working under extreme duress it would be all but insufferable. If anything it’s worse than the chaos of the battlefield. At least there she’d have objectives, a gun in her hand, and licence to give someone else a short sharp splitting headache.

Viper slips her bag out from beneath her chair, takes out her toolkit and sets to tinkering with her emitters. She knows well enough that they’re in no need of maintenance but it isn’t necessity guiding her hand. It’s a simple rote activity, calming in its familiarity, and between it and the steady rattle of breath through her respirator she slowly lets the world fall away.

Perhaps it’s no surprise then that she doesn’t even notice Brimstone’s approach until his steel-toed boots enter her vision.

“Viper. This a good time?”

Warm as ever, but it doesn’t take a genius to recognise that he expects to be heard out. She’s about the last person anyone would turn to for small talk.

Viper leaves him hanging. Her work is delicate and she can hardly down tools a moment’s notice. She makes sure that everything is properly secured before looking up, considering, and finally directing him to the seat adjacent with a slight flick of her head.

Though he sits himself down heavily, Brimstone keeps his arm tucked in to offer her a wider berth. He glances to the front of the plane, to where Phoenix, Raze and Jett have set themselves up with a deck of cards, a crate for a makeshift table, and a few cans of ungodly cheap soda, and in that instant he wears all his years and more. He sinks further back into his seat with a sigh. It’s more a sound of satisfaction than exhaustion.

“Young blood did good today,” he declares, leaning a little Viper’s way. “Sometimes I wonder whether they’re even listening in the briefings, but then they go and find a way to surprise me. Maybe it comes with being Radiants; give someone an arsenal like that and they’ll always be one step ahead even if they don’t take the time to look before they leap. Not much normies like us can do against that kind of firepower. Not when they don’t even see them coming.”

Brimstone huffs a dry little laugh. “Wouldn’t think they used to be civvies, or that Raze was home taught. Would’ve been glad to have her in...”

The words die on his lips as he turns to find acid-green eyes boring through him. At some point during his little spiel Viper has slipped her respirator free and now it hangs loose and dead around her collarbone. Even now he still can’t help but let his eyes flit down to her sharp jawline, almost as if it’s still a surprise to him that there’s but mortal flesh and blood behind that mask. Her lips are tight and thin and anything but amused by his rambling.

“Spare me the sentimentality, old man. We both know you’re not here to play proud parent.”

Guilty as charged, Brimstone can only offer her a tired smile. As long as he’s known her Sabine has never had never had much patience for anything that cuts into her valuable brooding time.

“If that’s how you want it” he cedes. A click of the tongue. “Today was your op: your plan, your command. You’ve heard enough of what I think of the newbies, so give me your review. I want to hear it from someone I know won’t go soft on them just for putting on a good show.”

There’s a clear scepticism in the look Viper gives him, like she’s still searching for some ulterior motive behind the question. And then there isn’t. The tension doesn’t fully leave her – it never seems to – but she scoffs and lets her arms hang a little looser at her side. “Where to start?”

“As one they’re arrogant. Jett thinks she’s fast enough to always take the first shot, and one day she’s going to be dead wrong. We need her on a leash. Phoenix believes his own hype. He considers his abilities an excuse to show off because no one mistake will keep him down. They’ll both take any foolish chance you let them, and when they come out alive they’ll laugh off any lessons they should have learned. Idiots with the power of gods.”

“As for Raze, calling her a liability would be too kind. She was more of a threat than anything Atlas could bring against us - no subtlety or sense of self-preservation.” She leans forward to look past him at the three down the other end of the dropship, and while her expression doesn’t exactly sour Viper hardly looks pleased with what she sees. Something like scorn finds her tone. “You should be glad my toxins scare them more than bullets. The same walls that screen their flanks keep them from taking stupid risks. None of them understand the value of patience and care.”

She leans back and can’t help but bristle just a little at how closely Brimstone is watching her. If anything she’s said has left any real impression then it doesn’t seem to have reached his face, but Viper knows him more than well enough to sense the wheels turning. After a moment he shrugs her words off.

“That may be so, but you made it back without a scratch. Shows what a firm hand can do with that raw talent. Give them time and you’ll-”

“Save it,” she cuts in coldly. “This mission was nothing. I could have handled it myself if you had only authorised it.”

He levels her with his gaze. “You know that was never on the table. Not after Venice.”

It’s enough to immediately get her back up.

That operation is a still-raw wound, one that has been slow to heal even with their tacit agreement to leave it well alone. Certainly it marked Valorant’s first true high profile failure, a city ‘saved’ in only the loosest of terms, but beyond that it forced those long-buried faults to the surface and exposed the cracks in their show of unified purpose. That the true fault for that particular catastrophe lies elsewhere hardly matters. Brimstone hasn’t forgiven her and Viper has yet to show even a sliver of remorse.

[a-cai-jpg]

this is a very stilted post.

I have a collection of songs that make me cry.

I'm not in the habit of playing them very often. I don't even save them in my YouTube favorites, or my wormhole of a Spotify account. I kind of leave it up to fate for the familiar melody and lyrics to find me again, and on days where I feel especially brave, I'll queue it up on a drive. But only on a drive.

I watched a variety show about songwriters a few months back, and one of my favorite contestants said something along the lines of, "I think everyone has a theme that they just can't touch."

Sometimes, it's because the pain is still too raw. Sometimes, it's because we're too fearful to truly reckon with the sorrow, unwilling to drink it in, let it roll around in our mouths as the bitter flavor penetrates our tongue, and feel it burn on the way down.

I don't listen to the songs often because I'm afraid I'll become desensitized, that the most humane and most compassionate part of me will become numb.

But also because I'm not in the business of seeking out pain.

I used to be obsessed with tragedy, chasing it with a sort of masochistic relish because I thought you could never be as human as you were when you cried. It's kind of like why people really like those sad, touching Thai commercials that make you bawl your eyes out without fail every time.

But as I grew older, I realized there really is something that I can't touch. Sometimes, I tongue the edges of it, prodding with caution, but only on very, very rare occasions do I peel away the protective layer. There are some things I can't watch, can't listen to too closely, or else I'll feel myself unravel around the edges.

And not gonna lie, but now is not a time I'm willing to tug at the ends of the thread. So instead, I'll let a past me do that.

When I was a sophomore in university, I submitted a monologue for the annual Asian cultural show. It was submitted anonymously, because at the time, it wasn't something I was ready to talk about.

(it still isn't, but i have gotten more practice talking about it in the years that have elapsed.)

See, what had happened was, I was watching Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo (disappointment of my life, sorry the Chinese version is better even though the Korean cast is bEaUtIfUl), and suddenly, I had a mini-panic attack about death.

It was the dumbest thing. I was watching Park Soondeok try to woo Wang Eun, and the silly girl--bless her heart--hunted a whole bear to express her love for him. I remember the scene had startled me, because she popped on screen with a bear skin covering her body. And I was like, "Uh that's like, a lot of bad karma right."

And I don't really know how karma works, but I suddenly remembered something that my grandmother had said a long time ago. She said that she was a sinner, because she's "killed" so much for our family.

In Chinese, the words she used were 杀生, which literally means "kill life" but generally, animal life.

She said it because she is the main chef of our family. Whenever she visited China, our family would go through a bit of crisis because that meant either my grandfather cooked or my mom's boyfriend cooked.

Once, my grandfather served me Palmier cookies and the same fried rice we'd eaten for a week for dinner. Often, my mom's boyfriend chopped up carrots and celery to dip with ranch for dinner.

It was great.

(no, but our family barely functioned when my grandmother was gone. those six months would be us sitting silently around the dinner table, daring each other to be the first to try a dish.)

Weirdly, that little thing she said stuck with me. And in that moment, sophomore year of college, sitting in my top bunk watching Scarlet Heart Ryeo, I panicked.

I can't really dissect why I panicked. But the result was this ridiculous plan that I had to stop eating meat for the rest of my life to collect all the good karma for my grandmother.

(yeah, so that didn't last because I literally got sausages that weekend cus hello, continental breakfast.)

It wasn't that I never thought about death or my family members dying before then. In the second grade, I read a story about the friendship between a squirrel and a leaf, and cried and cried and cried when the story ended and the leaf died, not because the leaf died but because the leaf promised to be reborn, and would be reborn at the turn of the year, but humans wouldn't be.

But for some reason, all of the separate moments of panic and fear dispersed over a decade culminated in that moment, as I watched Soodeok pull the bearskin off of her head, and I started crying so hard I couldn't breathe.

So I wrote a monologue. The original draft was very, very long and very, very detailed, and I probably went through half a box of tissues writing it. I eventually cut it down and didn't save the first copy because I never wanted to read it again.

The theme of the monologue comes up every time I talk about my Chinese American identity. It comes up in personal statements, in creative narratives, in discussion groups, and in the Facebook likes I dish out whenever I see a relevant Subtle Asian Traits post. It's the sense of biculturalism and the accompanying endeavor to somehow reconcile my reality with that of my immigrant parents and grandparents. It's the weary acceptance that ultimately, there may be no reconciliation, and all that's left is regret.

Whenever someone asks me what my favorite food is, I would say spring onion noodles. But this is the funny part--I will never order them in a restaurant. Some time in middle school, I went on a family trip with my extended relatives in China. Every time we stopped to eat, my aunt would order me a bowl of spring onion noodles because she knew I loved it so much, and every time, I would make a face and say, "Grandma does it better."

See, I don't know if she actually does. I just knew I liked hers more.

After my grandmother returned to China, I started making spring onion noodles myself, because it tasted more like home even if I never got it right.

I also really like dumplings. My grandma makes the best dumplings, but I'm afraid to ask her to make them, because the last time I did, they were too salty. Now, I'm afraid to ask her to make spring onion noodles too, because maybe my memories tasted better than the real thing.

But the real, real reason I'm scared is that I'm scared she's getting old. I'm scared her tastebuds are not the same as they were when she lived in Monterey Park, cooking in our second floor kitchen.

In my senior year of college, I called my grandmother for the first time on my own. The moment I heard her voice, staticky over the long distance call, I started crying, and it was stupid because I had to pretend I wasn't crying and I was trying to talk normally and it was awful because it was the kind where your voice came in hiccupy stutters, and she definitely knew I was crying because she kept asking, "Why did you call? What's wrong?" while acting casual, for my sake.

When I was in the eighth grade, I was walking a friend's German Shepherd that ended up dragging me across the pavement in the park. It's a story I tell a lot, because it is truly hilarious in hindsight, but the ending goes like this:

I go home crying, because my glasses broke and I have cuts on the back of my left hand and down my face. I take a bath, something I grew out of doing years ago, and my grandmother doesn't reprimand me. She sits next to me and speaks in that vaguely disapproving voice of her, the tone of so many old Asian ladies, and tells me that life is hard and you will meet people that you don't get along with, but you just have to suck it up. And I start crying harder, because she cared.

That day, she also followed me from the front door of our house to my mom's master bathroom, asking, "What's wrong?"

We talk a lot about the Chinese zodiac in our household, more when my grandmother and grandfather still lived with us, but my aunt brought it up a few days ago. In the Chinese zodiac, the ox and the sheep are foils to each other--me and my grandmother. When I was little, I would say, "Ugh, this is why we fight so often." A few days ago, my mom said, "That's why you and grandma never got along," and I stayed silent.

I sometimes tell people that my grandmother is more like my mother figure, and my mom is more like an older sister. And my mom hates it. But, it's because everything that others associate with an Asian mom, I associate with my grandmother. All the memes about immigrant mother bringing their children peeled and cut fruit are about my grandmother, fending off my complaints about having to eat apples every single day, and stubbornly bringing me sliced apples and pears. All the stories about immigrant parents expressing their love through the words "Come eat. Food is ready," is my grandmother who singlehandedly kept her family together through sheer will and a kitchen stove.

Sometimes, when I'm brave enough to talk to people about how I feel about her, I would say that I would gladly give her half of the rest of my life, just so we can leave together. I'm scared her life would be less than perfect, and I wish I made money earlier so I can take her to Cambridge and Rome, but I'm also scared that I'm selfish and weak and unable to give her what she really wants.

Anyways.

Four tissues later, here's the monologue:

I am obsessed with time.

I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the second hand moves relentlessly in an endless loop on the face of an old clock. I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the mention of it tightens my throat, squeezing until the pressure travels to my heart and lungs, and finally settling somewhere deep in my gut.

I was told that time is linear. The Second Law of Thermodynamics. Chaos and disorder grow infinitely—there is no going back.

When I was little and time was but a tiny grain of sand in a large, foreboding hourglass, I believed in guardian angels. They were the ones who caught me tumbling from a swing, having flown too high on my too weak wings. They were the ones who waited outside the gates of my elementary school—a familiar face of comfort floating amidst a crowd of foreign visages. They were the ones who promised me plates and plates of hand-wrapped dumplings, and most importantly, they were the only ones who could cook spring onion noodles with a sunny side up egg the way I liked it, and no restaurant could ever hope to get the taste just the same.

But also, when I was little, I believed that guardian angels existed outside of time. They were immortal, they gave me life. But as the number of years they conferred to me increased, they seemed to become more and more human.

Sometimes, I’d blink, and for a terrifying moment, I’d catch glimpse of an elderly couple, backs hunched and hair splattered with grey, standing in my kitchen.

This is me, a girl obsessed with time. I had the liberty of being born and raised in the United States. My Chinese immigrant parents labored long days at work, and my grandparents were given the roles as my primary caretakers.

My grandfather was the quiet one, a retired electrical engineer who made it his mission to somehow teach me to love mathematics. My grandmother was the loud one, previously a librarian—the irony, I know—who never went to college but could calculate prices of groceries faster than I could pull out a calculator. I grew up dancing around their peculiar dynamic, seesawing back and forth between going ant-watching with my grandfather as I recited the Chinese timestables and trying to finish too many platters of food my grandmother piled in front of me as she told me stories of life back in China—in the good old days.

Growing up in California, it was inevitable that I saw the United States as home to both me and my family. It was where I had spent nearly two decades of my life—and where my mother, grandmother, and grandfather had spent nearly two decades of their lives.

And yet, two decades was not nearly enough time. Space could not be reconciled, and time was rendered obsolete.

Home, for them, was not our little town in the suburbs of LA. When my father passed away, my mother said, “We don’t have enough money to bring him home.” She’d said it carelessly in front of me, perhaps thinking 6-year-old me wouldn’t notice, let alone understand. But 6-year-old me did. Home, I realized, for them wasn’t home for me.

The thought was terrifying. I realized that there will come a time, when I’d return home, and it wouldn’t be the same place my mother, my grandmother, and my grandfather returned to.

I began to play with the idea of condensing time and space. How great it would be, if home was simultaneously California and China. Time differences, traveling time, the Pacific Ocean would be utterly abolished, and our hearts would return home together.

But time flew by and the pile of sand grains at the bottom of the hourglass grew without my noticing. I hadn’t yet the chance to tell my grandparents about my meditation on time and space, and suddenly, my grandfather decided to return home. Time had seemed to warp, fastforwarding the years I’d taken for granted, and now refusing to slow down.

Here’s the thing—I do not wish to be selfish. I want my family to be happy—to return home—but I am terrified that my own fragile notion of home will shatter in return.

Because the reality is, home isn’t physical space. Home is, in all truthfulness, time. Time I’d spent with my family, and the years I have left to spend with them.

I’d let time slip through my fingers as I tried to come up with this theory of “home.” I’d tried to condense “home” into a condominium, apartment D, a large peach tree shading the backyard. Yet now, the tree has been cut down, and my mother speaks of moving to a city forty minutes away. What then, I ask myself, is home?

Home is the promises I’d made to my grandparents—promises I’m no longer sure I can keep because I cannot cover large enough distances with so little time. Home is the way I could never tell them “I love you,” and the regret that builds in my heart as I realize that home is a ticking time bomb that threatens to throw the world into chaos. Entropy increases. Things fall apart.

In a little bit, home will be too many miles away, too many hours away, for me to return to. Home will be in a foreign city surrounded by a peculiar amalgamation of unfamiliar modernity and history she’d lived through. Home will be on the opposite shore of an ocean I cannot swim across, with no one to cook spring onion noodles for.

I am a girl obsessed with time. I’d been blessed with a lot of time, and yet, I’d tossed it all out of the window of my second story bedroom. I am a girl obsessed with time, and I’d trade in my soul for it to reverse, so I can make home a little more concrete, a little more happy, a little more lasting. I am a girl obsessed with time, and when I wake up 2:30 in the morning, I think I can see the sands rushing down the chute of the hourglass, and the sight of it tears me apart.

I am a girl obsessed with time, and I would like to apologize to my beloved mother, grandmother, and grandfather for taking so much of it for granted. If I had another run at these eighteen years, I only hope to reach this conclusion sooner and fulfill my promises.

Dear grandma and grandpa,

I am a girl obsessed with time. Every day, I pray to God to give you a little more. How had the time flown by so quickly? Was yesterday not the day you brought me on the airplane for the first time? I can still taste the juice of the grapes a stranger had given us—snacks for the little girl—in the back of my tongue. Yet now I’m no longer the toddler you held in your arms. Grandma and grandpa, time is rushing by on a train I cannot seem to catch. Will you forgive me for reaching our home a little too late?

Love.

(i included my favorite part in a creative narrative project i did for a class in college. if you want to hear it in my voice: here.) (pls don’t click for the sake of my voice bc i sound like a literal duck. click for my grandparents wandering around hangzhou.) (also, if it is different its cus i tried to fit it in somehow with a longer poem i was writing.) (i don’t like poems.)

The reason I wrote this isn't that I wanted to pick at a scab. I heard a song recently, from the same songwriter variety show, that I had blindsided a few months back. I heard it at around 1 am in the morning, and I cried.

Here is the collection of songs:

橘子 by 邓见超

考试考得好不好啊？ how did you do on your test? 有没有拿到大红花 did you get the big red flower? 老师夸我是个乖仔啊 my teacher said i was a good kid 奶奶自己保重圣体吧 grandma, take care of yourself 长大了 出息了 要晓得回家 when you grow older and do big things, remember to come home 别忘了这里的青山和路弯 don't forget the green mountains and windy roads here 记得要带一瓶辣椒在身上 remember to bring with you a bottle of peppers 还时常跟妈妈报平安 and often let your mom know you're doing fine ... 房子旁两棵树都被砍掉了 the two trees by our house have been cut off 墙上还贴着小时候的奖状 my childhood awards are still plastered on the walls 一个字一个字 好像昨天啊 each word, each word, like it was just yesterday 宝贝儿子啊 吃饭了 son, it's time for dinner 再不回家妈妈要教训你了 if you don't come home now, mom's going to be mad 这个淘气的孩子跑去那里玩了 this mischievous kid, where did he go? 找他都找不到人了 i'm looking for him, but i can't find him.

一荤一素 by 毛不易

一张小方桌 有一荤一素 a small, square table with one vegetable and one meat 一个身影从容地忙忙碌碌 a figure good-naturedly bustling about 一双手让这时光有了温度 a pair of hands allowed this time some warmth 太年轻的人 他总是不满足 the one who is too young, he's not satisfied 固执地不愿停下 远行的脚步 stubbornly unwillingly to stop the footsteps traveling far away 望着高高的天走了长长的路 looking at the far, far sky; walking a long, long road 忘了回头看 她有没有哭 he forgot to turn around to see if she's crying 月儿明 风儿轻 >the moon is clear, the wind is light 可是你在敲打我的窗棂 is it you, knocking on my window? 听到这儿你就别担心 now that you've listened till here, please don't worry 其实我过的还可以 actually, i'm doing okay ... 你又可曾来过我的梦里 have you been to my dreams lately? 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 知道我睡得轻 knowing that i sleep lightly 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 怕我再想起你 afraid i'll miss you

父亲 by 筷子兄弟

时光时光慢些吧不要再让你变老了 time, time, please slow down. don't let you grow any older 我愿用我一切换你岁月长留<<br>i'm willing to trade everything i have for more years and months for you ... 微不足道的关心收下吧 please accept my inadequate care for you 谢谢你做的一切双手撑起我们的家 thank you for holding up our family with your hands 总是竭尽所有把最好的给我 always doing everything to give me the best ... 我是你的骄傲吗还在为我而担心吗 am i your pride? do you still worry for me? 你牵挂的孩子啊长大啦 the child you think of has grown up now.

时间都去哪了 by 王铮亮 (this is a cover)

时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好感受年轻就老了 haven't even truly experienced youth, and i'm already old 生儿养女 一辈子 took care of children my entire lfe 满脑子都是孩子哭了笑了 all i can hear is the cries and laughter of children 时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好看看你眼睛就花了 haven't even looked at you carefully yet, and my vision is already blurring

if only... by ozi

如果可以把時間退後 if i can rewind time 別讓命運把妳給帶走 i won't let fate take you away 對妳能說著我最近做些什麼 i want to be able to tell you what i've been doing these days 希望別再錯過 i hope i won't miss it again 如果可以讓我跟她說 if only i can just tell her 願意付出我所有為了 i'm willing to trade everything i have 能換一點時間just to see you again for a little time just to see you again 別再擔心著我 so you don't have to worry about me anymore

[mysweetestcreature]

In the Night

A/N: Just a little something-something because I’ve been in my Downton Abbey feels all month!

Words: 7.5k 

Warnings: None

***

Harry thinks he’s adapted to the life of a footman rather well, considering he’s only been offering his services at Clarkton Manor for a short amount of time thus far. He’s thankful that his sister, Gemma, had talked of him so highly to the butler, Mr. Gordon, when their former first footman had been banished from the estate for reasons unbeknownst him. 

Here he is, nearly eight weeks into the job and he’s become mates with the rest of the servants (after all, making enemies with anyone living in such close quarters with you could yield catastrophe, he thinks). The only down side to his new job is that he hasn’t seen his sister since arriving. Gemma is the lord’s daughter’s lady’s maid, and because Lady Y/n had been visiting America for that last couple of months, she needed his sister to accompany her on the excursion. 

“You must be excited, mate,” Harry looks up from his breakfast of sugar-sprinkled porridge and black coffee, expression indifferent as he cocks an eyebrow at Niall, a fellow footman from Ireland. 

“About?”

Niall pats him on the back before helping himself to another juicy sausage in front of him. “Gemma’s coming back today, is she not? Bet she’s come prepared with plenty of treats from overseas.”

Harry laughs through his nose and shakes his head. The thought had only crossed his mind once as a fleeting thought before retiring to bed because he had been exhausted from having polished all the silver in the house yesterday. “I’m taking that you would want me to share?” he mocks. 

“Well, if you insist. I wouldn’t dare impose myself on such personal gifts,” Niall feigns humility, but obvious is the glimmer of expectance in his round blue eyes. Just then, Mr. Gordon rings the bell, and everyone in the dining hall disperses to their assigned tasks for the day. Harry stops in front of the mirror kept in the hallway, adjusting his white bowtie before briskly climbing up the stairs.

***

“My lord,” Harry says when he offers Lord Stamford his morning paper. Lord Stamford muses out loud and gladly takes it off the well-polished silver tray. “Thank you, Harry,” he smiles warmly, then opens it right to the economics sections. 

“What time can we expect Y/n’s arrival? This house has been far too quiet without her here. Oh, Anthony, you must convince her to never leave us for this long again.” Lady Stamford pouts as she takes gentle sips from the porcelain teacup. 

“I couldn’t agree more, my darling, but you know how the youth are these days. They want to go out and explore the world...for reasons I’m still trying to piece together.” The last bit of his sentence comes out as low mumble. “Nevertheless, I’m happy to see her home.”

He knows it’s improper, but Harry can’t help but listen in on the conversation. It’s been a while since he’s laid eyes on Lady Y/n (back then it was just Y/n to him). When they were younger, Lord Stamford would regularly bring her along to the farmlands in which Harry and his family presided. While his lordship was being informed about the occurrences since his last visit (increase in harvested goods, profits, etc.), he and Y/n would run free across the fields as though the world was at their fingertips, despite her nanny’s insistent protests against tarnishing her perfectly clean dress.

Back in those days, he acted as her protector. He’s three years her senior, so there had been a natural inclination to take care of her whenever she would pay him––the farm, is what he means––visits. 

They had been closest of friends, or at least that’s how he likes to remember those exultant moments spent with her. There were times she would visit him at the bakery when his lordship had guests over because she claimed the other girls to be far too snobby for her liking or the boys were simply too obnoxious to even be around. During other, more intimate moments, he would sneak up to the manor late at night when all were asleep because she wanted to have spontaneous picnics under the moonlight like she had been read about in her novels where they would lay on a blanket he had brought from home oriented in opposite directions, with their heads right next to each other and talk about their futures as if they had a clue of what it all meant. 

As time carried on; however, all that just stopped. Her visits and letters became less and less frequent and he had begun questioning whether something had changed between them––conflicts in priority or maybe something he had done. Their last encounter had been four years ago when he was eighteen and she was fifteen, and she surprised him with an unexpected appearance one evening. 

“There’s something I must tell you,” she admits, her head lowered, unable to meet his curious eyes. Her hands clamp together and fingers fumble with one another as she bites down on her lip in that way he always thought to be adorable. “But I’m not sure how to say it.”

“What is it, love?” Harry breathes out, his hands stuffed in his pockets as they trod down the hill in the light of the setting sun. The name falls so naturally from his mouth and leaves a sweet aftertaste on his tongue. He stops in his tracks and turns to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You can tell me anything.” Y/n finally looks up at him, and it’s then he sees the tears stuck in her lids just about ready to fall. “I...”

Harry feels his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach. “What’s wrong? You know it hurts me to see you cry,” he chuckles nervously. He cups her cheeks with both hands and runs his thumbs under both her eyes. 

“It’s just that I-” 

“Harry!” They turn their heads in the direction of the stranger’s calls, and Y/n takes a step back, letting Harry’s hands drop from her face. He frowns as the distance between them grows larger and attempts to reach his hand out for hers, only to be stunted when the second girl with golden hair pulled back in a braid flings herself into his arms. “Oh, Harry, I’ve miss you!”

“Emma?” Harry gasps, pulling away as his mouth lifts into a surprised smile. “Emma, is that you?” The girl nods her head excitedly and wraps her arms back around him, and this time Harry more than willingly returns it.

“It’s me! Goodness, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” Harry had known Emma from days in primary school, where they had suffered under the wrath of Mrs. Gatwick. She had moved away with her family when her father had been offered a job in Manchester a few years ago. 

“It really has,” Harry says back. 

When he pulls away for the second time, he notices the frown on Y/n’s face as she tries to avert her eyes to anywhere but him. He reaches for her hand and pulls her to his side. She weakly smiles up at him, then quickly wipes away the remainder of her tears before awkwardly turning to face the other girl. 

“Emma,” Harry starts, his hand finding the small of Y/n’s back and looking down at her admiringly. “This is Y/n, Lord Stamford’s daughter.”

They exchanged curt greetings and make small talk. Emma seems to be keen on Harry, the way she finds every excuse to touch his arm and push on his shoulder when she exaggerates her laughter. 

Y/n never did tell him what she had meant to that day. He had gone to her the next morning, only to find out that she had gone on an extended holiday with Lady Stamford to Paris, and never saw much of her after that as well due to said priorities (him working two jobs and her fulfilling her obligations as a debutante).

“Harry, would you let Mrs. Connelly know that breakfast was marvelous, and also to prepare Lady Y/n’s favorite dish for dinner?” Lady Stamford asks of him.  

He bows down slightly. “Of course, Milady. Right away.” Harry excuses himself from the breakfast room and makes his way down to the kitchens. He delivers his lady’s message to Mrs. Connelly, then takes a seat at the servant’s dining table where Liam, the lord’s valet, sips away on some tea. Liam’s been working at Clarkton for five years and had taken his position after Lord Stamford’s previous valet had retired. He knows everything that happens upstairs. All laughs and scandals alike to ever plague the family’s dynasty. 

“Was wondering, Mr. Payne,” Harry starts, adjusting the buttons of his coat. He carefully moves his eyes to set on Liam, but he’s too immersed in his paper to the same. Instead, he gives him a slight tilt of the head as acknowledgment. “What’s...what’s Lady Y/n like?” he says in a low voice as for the rest of the room’s occupants to not hear him. 

“Why is it you’re wondering?” Liam questions back, flipping the page and becoming slightly intrigued by some entertainment news. Harry feels himself turn a shade of pink, and how he wishes he could recant his display of intrusiveness. After a few moments of awkward silence between the two men, Liam lets out a sigh and lays the newspaper flat on the surface of the table. “I won’t tell you if you won’t tell me.”

“I’m just-just curious is all. I haven’t seen her in quite some time, not since we were teenagers. I guess I just wanted to know...” Harry takes a moment to choose his words carefully, he doesn’t want to raise any concern, especially from Mr. Gordon, “...how to fall into her good graces. My sister is her lady’s maid after all.” He holds in a breath as Liam considers over his words.

“I suppose you have a fair point,” Liam concedes. “Lady Y/n is a sweet girl. Doesn’t have a vain bone in her body, really. She comes down here rather often during the day whenever she’s wanting someone to talk to.” He looks behind Harry to catch Mrs. Connelly pouring cake batter into a cake pan. “You were giving her baking lessons before she left for America, isn’t that right, Mrs. Connelly?” 

Mrs. Connelly lets out a gentle laugh and nods. “I sure was. She’s a natural, that girl. Taught her how to make a banoffee pie in just one session.” Harry smiles to himself, she’d always been observant when she’d hide in the kitchens with him at the bakery. He’s pleased to hear that her interests hadn’t deterred over the years.

***

Y/n is at the edge of her seat while the car nears her beloved childhood home. Oh, how she’d adored America and the uplifting energy she found dancing on every street corner. It was an excitement that she was all too happy to entertain, but now she is more than willing to allow the adrenaline in her system to level down and enjoy the calmness of the country side.

“I bet you his lordship and ladyship are just as eager to see you, Milady,” Gemma says, and Y/n giggles as she pictures her papa pacing back and forth in the foyer. “Well how about you? I’m sure we can expect that suitor of yours from the village before bedtime tonight,” Y/n teases, to which Gemma groans and falls back into the seat. “Oh, don’t be like that, Gemma. He’s obviously rather fond of you. What, with all those romantic letters he’d sent all the way New York.” Y/n pokes her lady maid’s side and laughs when she jumps up a bit.

The two women are as close as a lady and her lady’s maid can have, Y/n would even go as far as to say that Gemma is her best friend. With ever mischievous thing she’s done, Gemma has been there to cover for her and join her on a number of occasions. 

“Well, he’ll have to wait a bit longer because I’m not convinced just yet to accept him,” Gemma replies. “Besides, God only knows how my dear brother would respond if he were to find out I was even entertaining.”

Y/n bites on the inside of her cheek. The time away had caused her to push thoughts of him to the back of her mind for the time being. God, it’s been so long since she had last felt her knees buckle the way they would when he’d smile at her. 

“How is he doing, by the way? Has he adjusted to life at the manor?” Y/n asks coyly. 

Gemma gives her a firm nod. “He has, Milady. Mr. Gordon appears to have taken a liking to him and has promoted him to first footman,” she says proudly, just as any sister would. 

“That’s brilliant,” Y/n says sincerely. “He was always a hard worker.” She exchanges a knowing look with her lady’s maid, then turns her head back towards the window.

The car finally pulls up in front of the manor, where Lord and Lady Stamford are already standing eagerly to welcome their daughter after such time apart. Niall opens the door for her and she’s only able to squeak out a thank you before her father engulfs her in a tight hug.

“Papa, I can barely breathe!” she laughs, but returns his embrace just as strongly. “I missed you, Papa.” 

Lord Stamford pulls away and looks at his daughter a good look over for the first time in these two months. “And I you, my precious one.” 

Y/n gives him another hug before turning to her mother. “Oh, Mama, I have so much to tell you!” she exclaims as she wraps her arms around Lady Stamford.  

“I can’t wait to hear it, dear. But we should wait for your grandmother to arrive, she’s been more anxious than both your papa and I combined,” Lady Stamford laughs, covering a hand over her heart. “Get some rest first, darling. I’m sure the journey has tired you out.” Her mother runs a hand down her kept done hair.

“Actually, Mama, I was hoping to take a little walk in the gardens first,” Y/n says, already inching away from her mother’s grasp. “If it’s one thing New York doesn’t have, it’s a garden as lovely as yours.” 

Lady Stamford squints her eyes at her daughter, but eventually gives in and waves her hand. Before either her or her husband can bat an eyelash, Y/n is running off around the side of the house, as though not caring about how unladylike she may appear. 

***

“Harry, will you take Fiona out for a walk? The lord is feeling a little under the weather at the moment, and I am much too busy preparing for this evening’s dinner.” Mr. Gordon all but shoves the leash into his hands and walks away without looking back. Harry sighs out and leads the lord’s golden retriever to the back-door exit. He would think that after more than thirty years as serving as butler, Mr. Gordon would be more lax when it comes to gatherings, especially one that consists of only the dowager. 

As they reach the start of the hedges, he allows for Fiona to run free within the maze while he keeps a watchful eye on her from a comfortable distance. (He wouldn’t want to be like Niall who had managed to lose the dog for a few hours because he had been distracted by some dirt that had found its way onto his trousers.) 

He breathes in the smell of freshly cut grass and sweet roses that carry in the gentle breeze of this fine summer’s day. It’s not often that he is able to gallivant in the gardens since his rightful place is in the dining room or down in the servant’s floor with his colleagues. He does get days off though, but he’s never sure of how to spend them. Usually it’s just him and Niall going down to the local pub for a pint of beer and light conversation with ladies bold enough to enter the establishment on their own. Times are changing, he supposes. It is 1920 after all.

It’s then he realizes that he has completely lost track of the dog, and a slight panic begins to set in him when he doesn’t hear its panting within earshot. “Fiona!” he yells, just loud enough for it to echo through the maze hedges and not make its way back to the house. “Bloody fuck,” he mutters when he doesn’t hear a thing in return. He jogs through the maze, losing his way as he tries to follow the barks of the dog. Alright, maybe Niall wasn’t such a fool for having lost the dog.

By the graces of those above, he can hear Fiona bark as he nears what he believes to be the center of the obstacle. However, he hears something else, a voice, he thinks. Her tone is as smooth as silk and as sweet honey, and Harry thinks it may be his ears’ deceiving him. With a bit of hesitance, he makes a final turn and is immediately taken with the image in front of him. Just as he had been imagining earlier that morning, there she is. He stutters on his own breath, completely unsure of what to say as though all years of education had left him through the tips of his toes. 

Y/n snaps her head up. She had expertly maneuvered her way through the maze and found her favorite spot, a stone bench at its core that she would always escape to when she wanted to surround herself with fresh air. “Hello,” she greets shyly, blushing away to the side. She hadn’t expected to see him so soon after her arrival, not until lunch at the very least. 

Harry stares at her with wide-eyes far longer than he should before gaining a grip on himself. “Milady.” He bows down in respect, but he can’t help himself and maintains his gaze on her while doing so. “I hope you had a pleasant journey,” he manages to say afterwards. She thoughtfully nods and stands up.  

“Very much so, thank you,” she replies, and takes a few steps towards him. He’s taller than she expected he’d be, his height towering over her so drastically. She notices the way the fabric of his coat accentuates the broadness of his shoulders, and she wonders just how much of that is due to the padding. (She really shouldn’t be having such thoughts!) “It’s wonderful to see you again, Harry.” I missed you.

“It’s a pleasure, Milady” Harry is quick to answer. “It’s always been a privilege, even back then.” Y/n doesn’t like how he addresses her so formally now but feels her heart flutter nonetheless at his sincere declaration, and it’s her who stutters on what to say next. He’s just so handsome with perfectly sculpted features that have already managed to entrance her. 

They stand in front of each other without words being shared between them. And yet, it feels far from strange to go so long without doing so. He could spend all day admiring her if he would be permitted, but surely that would be inappropriate for someone like him. It’s only when Fiona barks up at them that the two break out of their shared trance. 

Y/n clears her throat. “Thank you,” she says, the blush of her cheeks growing deeper as time passes them along.

“You’ve grown a lot since the last time I’ve seen you,” he says, not fully thinking about his words before they’re spoken. You look beautiful.

Her cheeks feel as though they’re on fire, and she prays that there is mercy in this world and she isn’t the shade of a ripe tomato. “I should really get inside. Mama will want me to get some rest before Granny arrives.”

Once again, Harry bows slightly. “Of course, Milady.” She passes him on her way back through the maze but turns around halfway.

“Harry?” 

He looks up and bites on the inside of his cheek as a rush passes through him like a current. 

“I-” She takes a deep breath. “I’m happy you’re working here.”

***

She stares at her reflection in the mirror of her vanity, her eyes dazed over as she allows him to invade her thoughts. This had been expected, she knew seeing him again would affect her in this way. 

“A lot on your mind, Milady?” She looks up and sees Gemma smiling at her in the mirror. “You’re usually a bit fussy when I brush out the knots.”

Things have most likely changed. She has her duties, and he has his. No longer are the kids who would spend hours talking while they took walks through the forest, standing close to each other to stay warm on those chillier days or when she just wanted to be close to him. He never minded, he would wrap an arm around her shoulder or carry her on his back when she claimed to be tired. All that for what though? Why had he been so compassionate towards her and why did it make her still feel so alive after all this time?

Well, fine. She may have had feelings for him back then...Alright, fine. Y/n may have been in love with him. And maybe she had fully intended on professing her feelings that last day they were together because it became all too consuming for her to keep in, but then shied away because she had felt embarrassed with Emma hanging on to him like a sloth on a tree branch. Yet, she can’t bestow all the blame on the girl. No, it was her who hadn’t had the courage to say anything, and thus her feelings still crackle in her like fire.

“It’s nothing,” she answers moments later. “It just feels so strange to be back home.” Feels even stranger to be living with him just a few floors beneath her. 

***

Y/n finds herself down in the kitchen with a ball of chilled cookie dough rolling between her palms. Being her first full day back home, she thought she would get back into the routine of things, of which includes her baking lessons with Mrs. Connelly. 

While staying in New York with her Auntie Gwendolyn, she had picked up a few new dessert recipes that she just had to try for herself when she arrived back to the manor. Y/n isn’t the greatest baker there is (please, this is only her fifth lesson (her first in two months!) but she does find the science of it all to be quite fascinating, especially having watched Harry do it in the past.  

“Is this big enough?” She holds the now flattened ball up high for the cook to examine. “I feel like it’s too small.” 

Mrs. Connelly laughs, shaking her head and taking it from her hands. “They’re perfect, Milady. Once they’re baked good in the oven, they’ll be of perfect size, I promise you,” the older woman ensures her, then places the nearly perfect rounded dough onto the baking sheet. 

“I really hope so! Oh, and I pray they taste just like the Auntie Gwen’s,” she says excitedly and places down another shaped cookie alongside the others. 

She looks up and scans around the kitchen, taking in the sight of all the cooking assistants as they work to prepare tonight’s menu by chopping up vegetables, marinating her father’s favorite cut of steak, and preparing the sauces for a new dish her mother had wanted Mrs. Connelly to try out.

Though the person she’s keen on seeing appears to be absent, probably in some other part of the house tending to the guests Lord Stamford has over until tomorrow. She lets out an involuntary sigh as she thinks back to how handsome he had looked earlier that morning when they had nearly bumped into each other on her way down here. Although, they didn’t get another chance to speak to one another due to Mr. Gordon having ordered him to fetch a new copy of the paper since the one delivered had a big ink splotch right on the front page.

“There you are!” Y/n snaps her head towards Mrs. Connelly, then to the person she had just referred to. Harry stands in the archway, hands resting on his bent knees as he takes in shallow breaths. “You look like you’ve been to hell and back.” 

“I-” he barely extends a finger as he continues to pant. “I ran...” Another harsh breath. “All the way...” Y/n can’t help but giggle into her shoulder as he wheezes. “To the village...” Harry swallows thickly and stands up straight, his hand holding his side. “For a bloody paper.” He pulls out a chair from the table and plops himself down in it, not even noticing the distaste on Mrs. Connelly’s face for his poor choice in words. 

“I’m sure Papa greatly appreciates it,” Y/n says. 

Harry quickly rises back to his feet, his cheeks tinting red as his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there, Milady. I should not have used such vile words in front of you.” He bites on the inside of his cheek and scolds himself in his mind. You daft dimwit.

“It’s not a problem, really,” she says back to him. She wipes rinses her hands out in the sink and wipes the water away with a dishtowel before walking around the table to him. “Come on.” She gestures to the chair he had been in. “Sit down.” 

He looks behind her, Mrs. Connelly giving him a look that says he should do as he’s told. He sits back down, feelings of anxiousness simmering in the pit of his stomach as he awaits her next move. 

Hands fall onto his shoulders and apply a sudden pressure, and he nearly jumps at the unexpected contact that feels like jolts of electricity running through him. “What are you-”

“Relax, Harry,” she says through a stifled snigger, forcing him to sit still. “You used to like it when I would do this. Just relax.”

With that, he has no choice but to let her do her work on him, his only job having to swallow each moan that threatens to escape and the pounding beneath his chest as her fingers massage into his stiff muscles. 

***

“Did you hear that, Y/n? Mr. Leach has a vacation home in Scotland” Y/n’s grandmother, the Countess Dowager of Stamford reiterates the fact just stated. Y/n puts down her glass of water and nods politely.

“I did, Granny,” she replies. “It sounds lovely, Mr. Leach.” 

She truly does not know why all these men come here. None of them are of interest to her, and yet they’re like the plague sauntering into her home, much to her dismay. All of them are somehow connected to her family, either sons of her father’s acquaintances or big business owners looking to expand in the area. 

She wonders if any of them are here to find a true connection or just to keep the wealth of the dynasty in a surplus for generations onward. 

That’s the problem with this life. While it definitely has its perks that she’s more than happily used to her advantage over the years, the expectation that she is to marry and produce an heir to save her family’s fortune has never sat well with her. 

She’s a hopeless romantic. Has been since the day she could read and understand the romance novels she would borrow from her mother’s collection. And if there’s one thing she’s learned from all that reading, it’s that feelings cannot be forced nor repressed.

“So, Mr. Leach, did Y/n show you the rose bushes?” Lady Stamford asks as she swipes a spoon into her serving of chocolate soufflé. “What did you think of them?”

Mr. Leach takes the napkin in his lap and wipes his mouth with it in robotic motions, and Y/n can’t help but roll her eyes at how calculated everything about him is. She looks past the table and to the side where Mr. Gordon, Niall, and Harry stand with their hands behind their backs, waiting for those seated to call upon them. She manages to catch Harry’s eyes, and they both blush as they smile at each other like school children during an anticipated recess. 

Lord Stamford eventually leads them all into the drawing room to continue conversation with the rest of the guests, and to allow for the servants to clean up. (He’s always been gracious in finishing dinner early so as to not keep waiting for too long.) As they proceed into the next room, Y/n stays behind the rest as Harry and Niall start clearing the table.

“Harry,” she calls, scampering towards him, and Harry thinks it’s adorable how looks like an excited puppy. She nears him, then turns back towards the entryway to make sure all have left because the last thing she needs is to raise any suspicion. Harry watches in awe as she pulls a finely folded piece of paper out from under her dress straps and slips it into his pocket and bites on her lower lip. “Don’t let Niall read it,” she tells him jokingly, then slowly backs away with a smile on her face before joining the others.  

***

Harry waits for Niall to fall asleep before pulling the covers off his own body and gently landing his feet on the hardwood floor. After tying his laces and pulling on a jumper, he sneaks out of their room as quietly as he can. 

As soon as he opens the door that leads to outside, he’s immediately struck by the night’s chilly gust of air that sends goosebumps up and down his body and make hairs on the back of his neck rise up. This is crazy, he thinks to himself as he rubs his hands together to produce some kind of heat. 

“I’m happy you made it,” her honey-like voice swims through his ears. There she is, dressed in her nightgown under her thin robe, her long hair down in a tight braid that hangs over her shoulder unlike its usual up-do nature. 

“If I didn’t, I’d be disobeying orders,” he chuckles. “How may I assist you tonight, Milady?” He doesn’t notice the thick blanket under her arm until she tosses it to him. 

“Fancy a lie down under the stars?” she asks expectantly.

And the memories of their years before flash through his mind like a movie and it feels rather like déjà vu standing here in the night alone with her. She leads them to their favorite place through the rose bushes to the center of the maze, and he drapes the blanket over the cold grass and waits for her to sit before he follows. All reservations seem to lost even if it is just for tonight, and looking up at the star-lit night, it’s almost as though nothing had changed between the both of them. 

They sit there wordless, enjoying the moon casts life onto the otherwise enigma of the dark. It’s now they can appreciate the sounds of the world without the impurity of the rest of societal nuisances. Right now, it’s just them together absorbing each other’s aura. 

“I missed this,” Harry is the first to speak up. He turns to her, a smile on his lips as he lets himself be hypnotized by her beauty that he been deprived of for far too long. 

Y/n faces him and returns his grin with just as much sentiment. “As did I,” she whispers.

*** 

The next few weeks consist of secret meetings after retirement hours and subtle (and not so subtle) glances at each other during meals and in passing. Y/n feels as though she’s floating, as every time she returns back from the room after their rendezvous, she can never shake off the feeling of giddiness that fills her heart with exponential amounts joy. 

She lays snuggled under her thick blankets, daydreaming about last night when she swore he was about to kiss her. She’s almost sure of it! How she wishes she could feel his lips against hers and have him hold her as though they were bounded for life. It’s all she’s wanted since she was thirteen, and now it feels as though it’s within reach. 

Her bedroom door soon opens, and Gemma is there with a tray of her preferred breakfast of poached eggs and pumpkin loaf with a bowl of succulent berries on the side. “Good morning,” she says as she sets the legs up on the bed. “It is, isn’t it?” Y/n replies dreamily, popping a berry in her mouth and still unable to hide her smile. 

“Someone appears to have had a pleasant slumber,” Gemma muses as she pulls all the curtains open and letting the sunlight radiate into the room. “Good dream?” 

“Something like that,” Y/n brushes it off, not wanting to jinx anything. If in the past she had gotten cold feet and deferred her feelings for Harry due to her own insecurities she had faced as a teenager, maybe this time will be different. 

***

She’s reading out on the balcony when a rose falls onto the page. She picks it up and holds it to her nose as she inhales its fine aroma before looking up. “It’s beautiful.” She tries her best not to gush too much, but she can’t help it with Harry smiling down at her the he is. “Thank you.” 

His dimpled cheeks as prominent as ever as he runs the back of his knuckle down her the outline of her face. “Anything for you, Milady,” Y/n wraps her fingers around his wrist and strokes over it, once, twice, three times before curling into his touch. 

Neither notice Gemma standing inside on the other side of the door, her body hidden by the drapes, having seen the entire thing.

***

Harry smiles to himself as he hums along to a new tune he had heard on the radio that afternoon. He takes a seat in between Niall and Liam and happily helps himself to a bowl of his favorite beef and barley soup that Mrs. Connelly had prepared them for lunch.  

“Are you alright?” Liam asks him, referring to Harry’s overly happy appearance. “I assume your walk with Fiona went accordingly?” Niall laughs and chokes slightly on his soup, while Harry stirs the thick liquid with his spoon. 

Niall takes a sip of water before sharing his thoughts. “It’s because he’s just seen Lady Y/n,” he teases in a low whisper, elbowing Harry in his side.

“And what if he has?” Liam snorts.

“She is easy on the eyes, don’t you think, Mr. Payne?” Harry grimaces at the thought of looking at her like that, even if they are his mates. “A real sweetheart too.” 

Liam shakes his head and pushes his empty bowl aside. “However attractive she may be, she’s off limits. You of all people should know that, Niall,” he warns and leans in closer to the two footmen. “Recall what happened to Jonathon? I heard that the poor bloke can’t hold down a job because Lord Stamford’s sister has blacklisted him everywhere within a ten a mile radius.”

“What for?” Harry gasps, dropping his spoon and paying closer attention to the valet. He knows Jonathon had been fired, but never knew the reasons behind it.  “It surely couldn’t have been so treacherous that he’s been deemed unemployable?” 

Both men on either side of him exchange cautious looks as they turn to make sure the rest of the table is occupied with their own conversations. “He was having an affair with his lordship’s niece. Lady Spalding was even the one to discover them.” 

“It was bad. Her ladyship was absolutely livid, said that no daughter of hers was going to be involved with a servant,” Niall adds. “It’s a bunch of bullocks, if you ask me. You can’t choose who you fall in love with, even if you do come from different classes.” 

“You know how the old-school aristocratic devils think,” Liam says as he rolls his eyes. “Lady Spalding has never been the friendliest. If it weren’t for his lordship, she would have had Jonathon imprisoned.”

“On what grounds?” Harry pipes in, still trying to make sense of the story. It seems a bit rash to send a man to jail for something as simple as that.

Liam shrugs, sitting back in his chair and running his hands through the side of his head. “She doesn’t need one, they have connections with a judge up in York. All she has to do is snap her fingers.” 

“You’re right,” Harry says, turning to Niall. “It’s loads of shit.” He pushes out of his chair and walks out of the kitchen and escapes outside through the back threshold. He was finding it harder to breathe in there, for reasons who won’t care to admit to anyone, not even himself. 

It’s because he can relate to the position Jonathon had been in before him. But Harry can’t help the way he feels about her, even if it is seen as inappropriate to others. She’s the best part of his day and the anticipation of seeing her in the next gives him incentive to rise early in the morning. 

***

It’s when he’s just finished his duties that his sister pulls him aside into an empty alcove, a warning expression etched into her face, eyebrows knotted in a way he can’t decipher. 

“What are you playing at?” she demands as she places her hands on her hips. Harry scratches his head and thinks whether he’s done anything to have ticked her off that she looks like she’s ready to twist his guts out. After coming to no optimal conclusion, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Gem.” 

The older Styles squints at him as though trying to peel away his layers for the truth. “You and Lady Y/n,” she states, and Harry rubs nervously at the back of his neck. “Harry, I know you have been getting close to her again.” 

“And what if I have?” he challenges.

Gemma throws her hands in the air. “Are you ill? Have you no sense?” She allows for herself to calm down, covering her eyes with her palms as she contemplates what to say to her brother. “I know how you feel about her...have felt about her from when you were young,” she says, her tone gentler by just a smidge. 

“Then you know exactly what I’m doing.” His jaw tightens as his lips form in a straight line. He isn’t stupid, he knows what will happen if he allows himself to get too close to her. But he can’t fight himself, he refuses to. 

“You’re walking a dangerous path,” his sister warns him. “It is improper for a lord’s daughter to-”

“To what?” he snaps. “To fall in love with someone so beneath her? Is that what you are so eager to point out?” Does she think he doesn’t know what he’s up against? Every other day a new gentleman from families of nobility and wealth come knocking on Clarkton’s doors with intentions of winning her hand in marriage. They’re able to give her the luxuries of life full of grand banquets and parties and expensive vacations all across the world. 

And who is he? He’s just a lowly servant who longs for his lady’s heart. 

“Do not make me out to be the villain here. I am just trying to make sure you don’t get yourself into something you’ll regret. Do you know what will happen if his lordship were to find this out?” She waits for him to respond, but all he does is give her a cold shoulder. She answers for him. “Harry, you’ll become unemployable once you’re through here!”

“Gemma, I know,” he says boldly. “I know what will happen but trust me that it won’t.” He blinks away the feeling that prickles behind his eyes before they have a chance to fall. “I just want to be near her.” 

Her expression softens immensely at this, and as she looks at him as though he’s about to break. 

He knows who he is. 

He knows who he is compared to her.

“Allow me that?” 

All he can do for himself is to love her from afar and hope one day they’ll be able to finally have their chance.

***

“Your tea, Milady,” Harry announces when he walks into the library with a tray of biscuits and tea. He does his best not to look her directly in the eyes. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she says cheerfully. She closes her book and stands up from the couch. She skips over to him as he places the tray on the table by the window and tipping the stout of the pot directly above the cup and focusing on how the steaming liquid fills its confines and fills with room with a faint warmth. She thinks about how cute he looks when he’s fully concentrated, even if it is a menial task such as this. 

When he turns around to excuse himself, there she is standing next to him in all her beauty and smelling of warm vanilla and he has a sudden urge to dip his nose into the crook of her neck and hold her close like he imagines doing when he can’t fall asleep. “Will that be all, Milady?” he asks, lifting his gaze just above her head because he knows if he were to look into her eyes, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Why won’t you look at me?” she asks with a frown, turning his head to face her. “What’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you?”

“Of course not,” he’s quick to object, but still refuses himself from looking at her directly in the eyes. “Nothing you do could ever,” he shakes his head, “it’s nothing.” 

“Then why are you acting so oddly?” A pinching occurs within in her and she grows nervous the longer he remains silent. He turns towards the door, about to take a step before she grabs onto his arm to stop him. “Harry, wait! Talk to me, please,” she pleads with him. They had been doing so well, but now he’s acting as though there’s nothing more between them...unless all of that had been in her head. But it couldn’t have been! What she felt had been tangible, so real. 

It’s the last thing he wants to do, distance himself from her. But how is supposed to hold back on his emotions when she’s standing there looking at him with hurt in her eyes that pull at his heartstrings because he can’t bare to see her this way. Can he manage without her gentle touches to his arm and the way her head rests on his shoulder whenever they’re out looking to the moon?

No, fuck them.

Suddenly his hands are firmly on her hips and she’s being pushed against the curtains, the rails of the window digging into her back the closer his body presses into hers. His breath is shaky as he leans his forehead against hers, eyes sealed tightly as he processes how good it feels to be holding her like this. Her hands move up his bicep and wrap around his shoulders to play with his soft brown hair on the nape of his neck. 

The moment he finally opens his eyes, they immediately lock with hers and it’s like he has to forcibly remind himself how to breathe. He admires the glints of color scattered across her irises and how they sparkle back at him like crystals and diamonds and the most precious of gems. For a second, he allows his gaze to falter down to her supple lips slightly parted so that he can feel each one of her gentle breaths on his chin. 

He swallows hard, his fingertips digging into her flesh. “Tell me to stop,” he pleads, but the crack in his voice betrays him. Both their hearts are racing against each other and their breaths coming together in the tiny gap between their hopeful lips. “You have to tell me now or I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Y/n hugs him closer, the tips of their noses brushing against each other as she shakes her head. “Just kiss me.”

His lips finally press to hers and a content feeling washes over them as fire spreads its flames deep into their skin and warm up every inch of their beings as they indulge in their close embrace.

They quickly fall in sync with each other and find a rhythm between them, letting the fears of tomorrow fade away in favor of tonight.

He loves her. It’s as plain and simple as that.

***

Tell me your thoughts!

[shhh-no-ones-home]

prom nightmares 1/2 jason dean “JD” x reader

+++++++++

Character Request from someone on wattpad

"Maybe prom" was the suggestion I got upon asking. I kind of took that and ran. The end of this chapter is a little odd and ooc but it'll make a bit more sense when you get to part two.

Thank you for the request and I hope you like it!

Song: there's a honey by the pale waves

+++++++++

The stresses of senior year were finally catching up with me. There was just three short months before prom and I still hadn't gotten a dress, a ticket, or a date. In a way that didn't matter, I hadn't intended on going anyways but all of my family and friends insisted that I do. It was my senior year after all and missing this would be like missing the biggest concert of your life (by my standards anyways, according to everyone else).

I sat alone at lunch hoping no one would notice me. Luckily no one did until my (not really) boyfriend sat down in front of me. I saw him stare at me out of my peripherals as I wrote in my notebook.

"Hey babe how's it going?"

"It's going fine babe, how's your day been?"

He just laughed.

"It's been good so far, it's better now that I get to see you."

He laughed again when I brought my gaze to meet his and smiled. We both sat in silence for a while as we ate and I worked on my homework. Towards the end of lunch JD finally piped up.

"You find anyone to go to prom with yet?"

I looked at him with an amused look.

"Nah, I still don't even want to go, mom's making me though."

"So Don't. Don't go."

I just laughed at him.

"No I'm totally going, I mean I didn't want to but if I have a chance to see any of these people make fools of them selves on the dance floor its totally worth it."

He just gave me a sad smile.

"Well if your going you might as well be in good company, how about we go together?"

He seemed a little reluctant but said it anyways.

"Really? You of all people want to go to prom?"

He gave me a sideways nod before getting up and crossing the cafeteria. When he sat back down he had two prom tickets in his hand. I looked at him in shock.

"JD you just dropped like $120! You carry that around with you?!?"

He just shrugged at me and handed me a ticket. I shook my head no at him.

"I'm not letting you buy my ticket. Here."

I reached in my bag and handed him the $60 I had brought to buy my own ticket. He held it in front of him and looked between it and me.

"I really don't need this y/n I was gonna buy your ticket anyways."

"No JD I'm not gonna except that, if we we're actually dating then maybe but since we're not then I insist I buy my own."

He completely disapproved but oh well, I was standing my ground on this one. He just rolled his eyes and stashed the cash away in his pocket.

"How did we even get here?"

He just laughed at me. I shrugged and smiled back.

"I don't know but you'd better not move again before prom gets here sir."

I extended my pinky which he gladly leaned forward to accept, initiating the pinky promise.

"I promise I won't. We're best friends I would never do that to you, besides I've known you to long. If I did bail you'd hunt me down and make me go."

I just laughed at him and let go of his hand as the bell rang through the cafeteria. I packed all my stuff back in my bag and stood up.

"I'll see you later JD, maybe we can hang after school."

He nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good babe."

He winked at me and walked off. I slowly followed the crowd of high schoolers out of the cafeteria and made my way to my next class.

°°°°°°°°°

I jumped as the phone rang. I'd been waiting for a call for forever. I picked it up and placed it to my ear after two rings.

---

"Hello?"

"Y/n?"

I screwed my eyebrows together as I heard JD's dad on the other end of the line.

"This is she."

I heard him sigh heavily.

"JD told me he was going to prom with you."

"Yeah?"

"I've got some bad news."

He paused and I was just waiting, he moved and he wasnt coming back like he said.

"JD didn't come home yesterday. There was an explosion at the school..."

My mouth hung open and tears stung my eyes.

"No..."

There was a sob from his end.

"He's not gonna be going to prom with you anymore, he's not gonna be doing anything anymore. I know you two were best friends and I hate to tell you like this but there's no way I could have came all the way back to Jackson to tell you in person."

His breathing was shaking and he sobbed again into the phone.

"I'm so sorry y/n."

I closed my eyes and held the phone to my ear in disbelief. He couldn't have. But he did. The tears we're free falling down my face and I didn't know what to do. The line was silent other than JD's dad's breathing. I let in a hard shakey breath.

"Thank you for calling me. I appreciate that I didn't have to find out from a newspaper or news show."

I nodded to myself a few times.

"Thank you for being there for him."

He started sobbing into the phone. I heard a click and then a loud bang right into the receiver. My hearing was cut for a minute and I had a hard time wrapping my mind around what just happened.

"....uh...."

I shook my head trying to get my hearing back in my one ear before switching the phone to the other.

"..sir?"

There was a scream on the other end and I could hear a woman making panicked sounds. She picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"H-hello?"

"I'm sorry....but the man you were just talking to....he...he shot himself...."

She let out a sharp breath.

"Thank you."

---

I slammed the phone back onto the base and covered my face in my hands. I'm gonna need so much therapy, and a Tylenol.

[dorkwhowrites]

Wildest Dreams

Group: Bangtan Boys

Pairing: Namjin

Note: This story is inspired by the song/music video Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift.It's one of my favorite songs and the music video is one of the most beautiful music videos ever.If you liked this, do let me know!

“Eunwoo, we cannot see each other anymore,”

“But I thought...you loved me...,”

“I do but sometimes things don’t last...,”

Seokjin had at least two hands working their way into his hair, two hands on his face doing a good job covering his dark under eyes from last night as he tried to go over his lines once again. He was nervous. This was the first day they were having a shoot together and even though it was not the first time Seokjin was working in a movie it was his first time but he was intimidated by his co-star’s presence.

Kim Namjoon was a big deal after all. The highest paid actor in all of Korea, both critically acclaimed and loved by the audience he had played a few of the most iconic roles in the modern cinema. He was what every actor would aspire to be.

Seokjin, on the other hand, worked mostly in your everyday romantic dramas and a handful of movies here and there each of them having the story as the one he did before. But he was still famously nicknamed as the ‘Nation’s Boyfriend’ for his handsome looks and the cheesy romantic characters that he played.

They were like chalk and cheese when it came to their on-screen personas which is why maybe the director picked them but then again he had very slim pickings, to begin with.

After all, this movie was not like every other movie.

Wildest Dreams was about two gay men finding love in the strangest yet normal circumstances. Son Donghae played by Kim Namjoon was the senior manager of a multinational company married to a woman and a son. Shin Eunwoo played by Seokjin was Donghae’s secretary. What started as a professional relationship blossomed slowly into feelings that both of them knew would cause troubles but neither could stay away. Son Donghae was left to confront his sexuality and Shin Eunwoo had to face the emotional turmoil of being in love with a man he could never have.

As soon as Seokjin read the script he could feel tears forming in his eyes and agreed to sign the movie. It was such a simple story yet so full of impact and it resonated so much with Seokjin who was gay himself. Of course, no one knew because Seokjin didn’t want to risk his career like that. Korea was ready for a gay movie but not yet ready for an openly gay actor.

What shocked Seokjin the most was the fact Kim Namjoon would be in the movie despite the clean squeaky image he had. This movie was a risk to his reputation he was bound to lose some of the public adoration he had but he still agreed. But then again Namjoon had always been risqué with his roles and maybe that made him such an iconic actor.

“All done,” the hairstylist smiled at Seokjin. Seokjin smiled back at her taking one last look at the dialogues before he stood up walking to the set.

“Okay, scene 1,” the director said. “Eunwoo bumps into his boss Donghae and spills coffee over his pants, you got this, guys?”

Seokjin nods. This was one of the most cliché scenes ever and he had many coffees spilled onto his pants in dramas and movies.

Seokjin is handed a cup of coffee. It’s quite cold.

“Okay then! Action!”

Seokjin walked at a rapid pace and Namjoon in front of him is walking slowly his eyes on his mobile phone.

Then it happened they bump hard and Seokjin successfully manages to spill the coffee on Namjoon’s pants. It was harder than he imagined it to be.

“What the fuck, can’t you watch where you’re going...,” he says annoyed his voice low with anger. It almost seemed like he is actually angry at Seokjin.

“I...uh I’m so sorry, sir,” Seokjin mumbled.

“CUT!”

Namjoon sighed and walked off as he cleaned up the coffee which also happened to land on his shirt and Seokjin found Namjoon looking at him. For some reason, Seokjin’s heart started beating fast as he looked away immediately.

Kim Namjoon was tall and handsome as hell and even though Seokjin knew he had to be strictly professional about the whole thing his heart wouldn’t stop fluttering each time they got close to each other which was quite a lot.

Donghae and Eunwoo’s relationship was blossoming slowly. There were too many subtle hand brushes, too many times when they both were too close to each other and each time Seokjin’s heart would beat faster looking into Namjoon’s deep brown eyes and that time he wasn’t sure if it was Eunwoo or Seokjin who was falling for Donghae or Namjoon.

One day Seokjin was late to shoot and the stupid traffic was to be blamed. They were supposed to be shooting one of the most important scenes; Donghae and Eunwoo’s first kiss together and Seokjin had spent a lot of time thinking about it even though this wasn’t the first time he was ever kissing someone he was still scared he would mess up something.

Seokjin had been a whole hour late.

“I...I’m so sorry,” he began apologizing as soon as he reached the set.

“Oh, here you are!” Namjoon exclaimed. “And you are perfectly on time”

Seokjin didn’t say anything.

“Some of us here want to finish this damn movie on time,” Namjoon said.

Seokjin felt himself being angry.

“I didn’t mean to be late,” he said. “My manager is sick and I had to drive myself and there was a lot of traffic...”

“We don’t need to hear your excuses,” Namjoon said. “Stop being a diva and show up on time”

Seokjin could feel heat rushing to his cheeks.

“You have no right to say that you asshole...,”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“Stop it will you,” the director said. “Any more delays and we won’t be able to finish the shoot today”

Namjoon walked off and Seokjin went to his trailer to change and get his hair and makeup done. He was furious the entire time. Seokjin had always been a stickler for punctuality and today he just happened to get into the worst traffic and for Namjoon to call him a diva for something he couldn’t even control was rude. Seokjin didn’t know what had gotten into him. He was usually nothing but nice, not very talkative and today he had seen Kim Namjoon into a new light and it made him wonder if the rumors about him having attitude problems were actually true after all.

Seokjin went through his lines once again taking a deep breath. He wasn’t looking forward to the shoot at all with a man who had called him a diva not less than an hour ago and still had a stony expression on his face impatiently tapping his feet as Seokjin walked to the set.

“Action!”

Namjoon walked to him tucking his chin upwards.

“What...what are you doing...?” Seokjin asked in a breathy voice.

“I’m sorry...,” Namjoon said. “But I can’t stop myself anymore”

Before Seokjin knew it Namjoon’s lips were on him they felt gentle yet so forceful making Seokjin stumble behind holding the table behind to steady himself.

They kissed for how long Seokjin didn’t know but he found himself melting into the kiss.

“At least, something good came out of the fight!” the director said. “I got a perfect kiss”

“Eunwoo, I have never loved someone as much as I’ve loved you,”

“What about your...wife?”

“She never mattered that much to me...not as much as you do”

Another kiss, Seokjin’s heart was beating dramatically loud as Namjoon’s hands were in his hair deepening the kiss until Seokjin was practically out of breath.

“Cut!”

Namjoon moved away ever so slowly still looking into Seokjin’s eyes.

Seokjin looked down instead before Namjoon finally left and Seokjin’s heart was a complete mess especially under the intense gaze of Namjoon’s eyes.

They had a break of about 15 minutes before the shooting would resume and Seokjin tried to read a book but he was too distracted and the words were a hazy mess in front of his eyes.

“Seokjin,”

It was Namjoon looking down at him.

“Yes,” Seokjin said trying to sound as stable as possible.

“I’m sorry,”

“For?”

“For all the stuff I said that day,” Namjoon said. “I didn’t mean it...I was just angry”

“Oh,”

“So, do you forgive me?”

“Ye...Yeah, I guess,” Seokjin smiled.

Namjoon smiled back.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh...it’s just a...,”

“Tolstoy,” Namjoon said. “Ah, he is one of my absolute favorites”

“Oh...I enjoy his work too,” Seokjin shyly replied.

Namjoon grinned.

“I guess I’ll leave you to the book then,” Namjoon smiled.

Seokjin nodded before watching him walk away and then stand away at the corner smoking a cigarette.

Their eyes met again and Seokjin looked away.

“Do we have to keep this a secret?”

“That is the only way we can love each other...,”

“I don’t like hiding from the world,”

“I’m sorry Eunwoo, but this is how things will be... always,”

Seokjin was lying on top of Namjoon his hands were tracing pattern into Namjoon’s bare chest peeping out of his unbuttoned shirt. Seokjin could feel his firm chest, their bodies closer than ever before and Namjoon’s heartbeat so close to Seokjin’s ear.

Namjoon’s hands reached over to Seokjin’s eyes his hands flicking away the bangs falling into Seokjin’s eyes before kissing him.

They had kissed for the third time now and yet Seokjin always found himself being taken aback maybe because Namjoon was always initiated the kiss. He could feel his stomach full of butterflies his heart fluttering a feeling he never had before kissing all the actresses or the boyfriends he had before.

The line between Eunwoo and Seokjin was getting blurrier each day.

“CUT!”

It took Seokjin a few seconds to realize he should move away and he did his face flushed.

“Sorry,” Seokjin muttered sitting up.

Namjoon chuckled a bit as he stood up before offering Seokjin a hand to stand up. Seokjin gladly took it.

Eunwoo and Donghae had held a hands lot before.

But now Seokjin was holding Namjoon’s hand.

It was stupid to be smitten over a co-star. It was unprofessional, could create so many problems yet Seokjin’s heart refused to be anything but rational.

With each scene the awkward wall between them disappeared slowly and Seokjin was definitely imagining it but it felt like Namjoon was not acting at times the way his eyes would linger longer than necessary on Seokjin’s lips and how he said brown (the colour of Seokjin’s eyes) instead of hazel the colour of Eunwoo’s eyes.

It was a simple mistake to make but Seokjin found himself thinking about it a lot.

But, it was still stupid because Namjoon was a married man.

He was married to Lee Eunbin one of the most beautiful actresses in Korea. She was adored a lot. Namjoon and Eunbin had met on a movie set and they had immediately fallen in love with each other and just two years later they were married to each other. Everyone loved them together. They just looked so in love.

So, to put it simply there was no way Namjoon had any interest in Seokjin no matter how much they had started talking during breaks and how they shared their love of books and classic movies.

“Seokjin,”

“Yeah,”

“Was that the first time you kissed a man?”

Seokjin’s eyes widened at that question. He hadn’t expected Namjoon to ask that and Seokjin decided to be honest.

“No,”

“Oh,”

“Was that your first time kissing a man?”

“No,”

Seokjin’s hands felt sweaty. Today, he was even more nervous than usual and that was saying something because Namjoon’s presence always made his heart go haywire.

Today, it was no different for Seokjin as he watched Namjoon laughing with his hair stylist all wide smiles and a smile spread on Seokjin’s face but it faded away as soon as Namjoon saw him.

Seokjin looked over his lines. There wasn’t much to say today.

Today, they were going to shoot their first and only sex scene or love scene as the director liked to call them.

It wasn’t the first time Seokjin was getting intimate in front of a camera crew but it was only with women and not a man as handsome as Kim Namjoon who would be pretending to make love with him.

Seokjin was wearing only a translucent white shirt and blue jeans. Namjoon was only wearing trousers his chest bare and Seokjin found himself staring more than appropriate. Namjoon seemed to take notice smiling a little making Seokjin flush.

“Action!”

Namjoon was quick to drag Seokjin towards kissing him and it wasn’t the gentle tame kisses that Eunwoo and Donghae had shared before. This was full of passion and lust and Seokjin found himself being pushed down on the bed.

Namjoon unbuttoned Seokjin’s shirt before kissing him again.

They weren’t actually going to have sex or be naked because the film still needed to pass and be released in theatres which meant most of it was Namjoon on top of Seokjin moving his breaths heavy while Seokjin’s dug in his hands in Namjoon’s back their bodies covered with white sheets.

Namjoon sucked on Seokjin’s neck.

“I love you...Eunwoo,” he said slowly.

A low moan escaped from Seokjin’s mouth and it was real and he could feel himself getting embarrassed because Namjoon had to know that Seokjin wasn’t acting anymore.

“Great shot,” the director said as they finished the scene with Seokjin lying on Namjoon’s chest their breaths heavy. “I am very happy with this one”

Seokjin was glad that they weren’t going to have a reshoot because he couldn’t imagine doing all of this again and have the same self-restraint. Each time their bodies touched Seokjin could feel a spark running through his body.

Seokjin moved away from Namjoon’s chest putting on his shirt his heart still beating fast, his legs that felt like jelly.

It was lunch time but Seokjin barely felt hungry and he locked himself in his trailer in an effort to calm his nerves. Seokjin couldn’t wait for this movie to be done so he could get away from Kim Namjoon and be sane again.

There was a knock. Seokjin sighed wondering when his stylists would ever leave him alone. He opened the door and to his pleasant surprise, it was Namjoon.

Seokjin gulped.

“May I?” Namjoon asked.

“Uh um yeah,” Seokjin made way for Namjoon to get in.

Namjoon looked around.

“Nice place you’ve got yourself here,”

Seokjin smiled at him.

“Thanks.,”

There was an awkward silence that followed leaving Seokjin wondering why exactly Namjoon came to visit him.

Seokjin got the answer to his question in the next five seconds as he felt Namjoon’s lips on his kissing him gently his hands on Seokjin’s face. And for some reason, Seokjin did nothing but kissed him back.

When they stopped Seokjin was convinced it had to be a dream but it wasn’t because Namjoon was now looking at him in that same intense way that Donghae looked at Eunwoo.

“I...I just had to do that,” he said.

Namjoon then stood up leaving Seokjin all alone.

“I am so glad I have you in my life Donghae,”

“I am luckier to have you,”

“Let’s run away Donghae...just you and me and never come back”

“I am a coward Eunwoo yah. I am not like you, I can never be as brave as you are”

Namjoon was holding Seokjin’s hands close to his before kissing them.

Seokjin’s hands fluttered as Namjoon touched his lips on the tip of Seokjin’s fingers improvising a little because originally Donghae meant to kiss the palm of Eunwoo’s hands.

The director seemed very happy with Namjoon’s improvisation his praises was unstoppable. He was quite happy because the shoot was ending in about a week but Seokjin wasn’t as gleeful about it.

Namjoon and Seokjin had started dating each other to loosely put it mostly spending time on sets together and sometimes off set but only a limited time at some secluded motel so no one could ever find about them especially not Namjoon’s wife. She kept tabs on him always worried about Namjoon hooking up with some hot actress but she was so wrong.

Seokjin had managed to become Namjoon’s dirty little secret and now that the movie was ending Seokjin didn’t know how they could manage to see each other and every time Seokjin tried to bring it up Namjoon would brush it off..

And even though Seokjin knew what he was doing was so wrong, being a home-wrecker helping a man cheat on his wife he couldn’t stay away from Kim Namjoon not even if he tried.

So, Seokjin decided to stay and let himself be a dirty secret.

It was the last day of the shoot and the director had decided to reserve it for the most emotional scene yet.

Seokjin knew it was going to be difficult to shoot this one.

He looked into Namjoon’s eyes that looked so far away. They had a fight the night before about what things were going to look for them in the future and it did not go well. Seokjin hadn’t spoken to him since then.

“Action,”

“Eunwoo, but we can’t see each other anymore,”

“But...I thought ...you loved me”

“I do but sometimes things don’t last...,”

“Why are you doing this...?”

“My wife...she knows...I can’t risk my life...my family anymore...I’m sorry Eunwoo...I really am and I still love you...I always will...”

“No, you don’t you fucking liar,”

“Eunwoo, don’t say that...you have no idea...how much this hurts me...to let you go...”

“Well, then do something about it...don’t let me go...,”

“I can’t...,”

“Fuck you,”

Seokjin had hot tears leaking from his eyes as he walked off. He had overdone it probably making everyone on the set wonder if something was going on between them actually but everyone was all praises about how real Seokjin’s acting looked.

But it wasn’t acting at all.

It was Eunwoo talking to Donghae.

It was Seokjin talking to Namjoon.

It was the after party a week a later. Seokjin wanted to skip but he didn’t. He dreaded facing Namjoon after a week of no contact whatsoever and there he was talking to people dressed in a suit looking as irresistible as ever but Seokjin knew he had to stay away.

Namjoon didn’t want that as he made his way towards Seokjin.

“Seokjin,”

“What?”

“Seokjin please...,”

“What do you want?” Seokjin asked. “Isn’t your wife around? She might see us”

“She couldn’t come today...,” Namjoon said.

“Good,”

“Seokjin I...,” Namjoon began but he was interrupted by someone and started to talk to them. Seokjin saw this as a chance to get away from Namjoon and also leave the party altogether.

Seokjin walked through the lawn to his car.

“Seokjin, wait...,” Namjoon was jogging up to Seokjin’s car. “Please...”

“I am leaving,” Seokjin said opening up the car door but Namjoon stopped him.

“Namjoon...let me go,”

“I wanted to tell you something...,” Namjoon said. “Not here though”

Seokjin sighed.

“Get in,”

Namjoon got into the car as Seokjin started driving wondering what exactly Namjoon was going to say to him.

They stopped at a secluded spot up in the woods.

“I...,” Namjoon began.

“Yeah,”

Namjoon didn’t speak at all and maybe because Seokjin was acting on impulse from the bit of champagne he had drunk or because he was completely fucking stupid he kissed Namjoon.

Namjoon and Seokjin ended up making love in the backseat of the car and it felt so perfectly imperfect that Seokjin never wanted it to stop.

He kissed Namjoon again but he moved away.

“I came here to tell you something,” Namjoon said as he put on his shirt.

“What is it?”

“Eunbin is pregnant,” Namjoon said. “We had our first scan yesterday”

Seokjin found himself being at loss for words.

“I am going to be a father soon...I don’t think we should be seeing each other...,”

Seokjin still remained silent.

“Say, something will you?”

“I love you, Kim Namjoon,”

The blinding flashing lights were far too bright for Seokjin as he walked down the red carpet for the first screening of Wildest Dreams. His head felt like it was spinning. Seokjin barely got any sleep and mostly survived on coffee and alcohol. It was a relief that he managed to show up and look even semi-decent.

Namjoon was already there, hands around Eunbin’s waist a perfect smile for the photos his gaze dropping upon seeing Seokjin.

The cast took pictures together including Namjoon and Seokjin standing away from each other pretending as if they weren’t just having sex in the backseat of a car about a month ago.

That was the last time Seokjin had saw Namjoon.

The movie screen was particularly painful but it was even more painful to watch Namjoon hold Eunbin’s hands in his the way he would hold Seokjin’s hand pressing a kiss on each fingertip.

Seokjin could barely handle any of it anymore, not the movie nor Namjoon as he rushed outside to leave once for all because he was stupid so stupid to believe in any of this at all because after all;

Nothing lasts forever.

Son Donghae left Shin Eunwoo to be on his own so he could be with his family...his wife and his son only it didn’t last long.

Donghae’s wife filed for divorce only a month later and took the custody of their son.

As for Shin Eunwoo overcome by the grief of being left by the man that he had loved so much Eunwoo became somewhat of an alcoholic and ended up killing himself when he was behind the wheel after an episode of drinking.

Their love couldn’t last.

Nothing lasts forever.

[thesecretfandom]

American Dream: Part One -- Bughead Au

I. Land of Excess

Word Count: 5,051

Rated: G

A/N: Part 1/3 Bughead 1920′s Au.( Read on AO3) (Part 2 Coming Soon)

"Ethel, have you seen my diamond necklace?" Betty called to her assistant. Betty had hired Ethel six months ago, and she was thus far the best assistant she'd ever had. She was responsible for organizing Betty's latest fashion show, with all the biggest names in fashion in attendance. It was the first fashion show Cooper Fashions had hosted, starring the innovative styles of the young yet top female designer, Elizabeth Cooper.

"You hung it on your vanity, ma'am."  Ethel replied.

"You don't need to call me ma'am, Ethel. You make me sound like an old woman." Betty sighed. She'd insisted when she first hired Ethel that she call her Betty, even Elizabeth, but she still called her ma'am regardless. "Remind me again why I hung a priceless diamond necklace on my vanity? Do I not have a jewelry box?"

"That's what I said last night, and you said that it could stay there because you were wearing it to the theater today."

"I don't know why I question you." Betty lifted the gold chain from where it hung on the spindle of the mirror attached to her vanity. "Be a dear and make sure the car is waiting. I'm almost ready to go."

"Yes, ma'am."

Betty entered the black town car alone, allowing her chauffer to close the door behind her. The New York City streets were busy on that weekend. Young men and women walked the streets, leaving trails of cigarette smoke in their wake. None would admit what they were up to that night, but in the mid-1920s at the height of Prohibition, Betty knew they must be wandering in to one of many speakeasies that were hidden throughout the city.

Betty preferred to keep up her image, avoiding the less savory locations in the city when there was a chance of the paparazzi catching her. She was just establishing herself in an industry thus far held hostage by men, and she would not allow some scandal to knock her out of the spotlight.

The lights from the theater were glowing, sparkling like stars pulled down from the sky. The night sky in New York City grew increasingly dimmer as the years went on. Betty remembered, as a child, visiting the city before the War… before the city lights drowned out her dreams of life on a farm with her childhood sweetheart and replaced them with dreams of fashion, adventure, and forbidden romance.

She was born at the turn of the century, her age always reflected in the year facing her. Now 1924, Betty was successful for her age, but an enigma to her peers. What was a beautiful young woman like her doing without a husband? That was something that Betty herself couldn't answer. A husband was always on her list, but her career was always higher on the list. Her husband, whoever he was, would have to wait.

A red carpet sprawled across the sidewalk from where her car stopped, leading up the stairs into the theater. Her chauffer held out a white gloved hand and as soon as her foot hit the ground flashes of light burst forth from the cameras of the news reporters.

"Miss Cooper, are you with someone?" A hot topic of conversation wherever she went.

"Miss Cooper, how long are you staying in New York?" Less common, but they always wanted to know which city she was headed off to next.

"Miss Cooper, who are you wearing?" The only question that she answered honestly every time.

Betty smiled toward the direction of the question,  the lace of her dress pooling around her ankles. "Myself of course."

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"Mister Jones?"

"What is it, Keller?" Jughead was busy. His newest show premiered tonight and already his lead actress had ripped a seam in her dress and the spotlight bulb had shattered. Luckily, both had remedies. An adequate seamstress and spare bulb would fix all of his problems, if only the damn bulb could be found in the supply closet.

"Elizabeth Cooper is on the red carpet."

Jughead stopped in his tracks. He trained his eyes on his assistant, trying to decide if the young man was lying to him.

"A celebrity is coming to my show?"

"Some may argue that you're a celebrity, Sir." Kevin responded promptly.

"I don't care for flattery, you know this." Jughead was on the move again. If the handyman couldn't find a simple light bulb, he'd have to do it himself. "I wasn't made aware of this when the VIP booths were reserved."

"She didn't reserve a booth." Kevin wrung his hands together. "She came alone with a single ticket, general audience. That's how she slipped through. She had her personal assistant buy a ticket for her."

"Well, move her to a VIP seat then. I would have gladly sent her complimentary tickets had I known."

"That… may be a problem." Kevin shrunk away from his boss when Jughead whirled on him. Kevin hated to be the bearer of bad news, especially with his particularly hotheaded boss. "All of the VIP seats have been reserved by some incredibly esteemed members of society. We can't afford to move anyone."

"Then…" Jughead thought for a moment. "Then put her in my booth. It's the best seat in the house. What are you waiting for? Go!"

Kevin scurried away toward the front of the building, through a small crowd that that had already arrived. Many of the higher class citizens, considered to be celebrities to New Yorkers, had arrived on the red carpet just moments before the esteemed fashion designer. Jughead watched as they entered the theater, seemingly disappointed that their small moment in the spotlight had been stolen away by an international star.

Jughead had first heard of Elizabeth Cooper five years ago, when she was granted her first spotlight at a fashion show in New York at the age of nineteen. She became a celebrated designer with rapid speed. One of few female designers from America, and the youngest female designer in the world to have her first line of women’s formal wear met with rave reviews.

Despite his four year seniority on the young woman, she had found fame much sooner than him. When Elizabeth was jet setting across the globe to various fashion shows, Jughead was struggling with his first big play. While her designs were in high demand, Jughead was begging on his hands and knees in front of potential investors.

His first controversial show was met with mixed reviews, but with a murderous plot line and a mysterious figure pulling the strings, it was a hit that skyrocketed Jughead into the spotlight… quite literally.

"Five minutes to show time! Everyone to your places!" Jughead waited at the center of the stage, just behind the thick, red curtain.

A nervous energy appeared behind him. "Mr. Jones…"

"Now is not the time, Keller." Jughead straightened his tie.

"But…"

"Is this going to affect the show in any way?"

"Well, it-"

"Get backstage, Kevin. Everything is going to be fine."

Once again, Kevin disappeared into the crowd of cast and crew that waited backstage. Jughead slowly pushed through the curtain and stepped into the spotlight at center stage. Through the bright light, he couldn't make out the audience… though he'd been assured it was a full house. Jughead grinned, "Welcome, esteemed guests to the premier of  Land of Excess."

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Betty sat in the sixth row back from the stage, watching as Forsythe Jones took the stage to introduce the show. She could feel the eyes of various audience members watching her with sidelong glances. She'd been offered a seat in a VIP booth by Forsythe's assistant and with much disappointment to him, she'd refused. After all, she'd come to this show at this particular theater for a reason.

As a child, when she'd first visited the city with her parents and siblings, they'd gone to a show at the small theater that had once sat on this land. She was quite young when Peter Pan came to America, and her parents had saved money for something of just the sort. A new theater had been built in its place after the war ended, but Betty still felt like a child again as she sat n the middle of the theater six rows back, just where she had been over fifteen years ago.

This show was much more mature. Set in the present day, it was a rags to riches story about a young woman with a dark past establishing herself as a successful business woman. Amidst a stalker from her past and a new mysterious lover, it was a grand romance that would empower any woman hoping to make her mark on the world. No doubt it would have mixed reviews from the influential theater critics, made up mostly of old men.

By the end of the show, Betty vowed to use her influence to promote the show. Not many shows had a female as the lead, especially when most playwrights were men. She had to give Forsythe Jones props, he always found a way to make his controversial plays strike some cord with a large audience.

Betty waited in her seat long after the show ended until only a few audience members still shuffled around the back of the theater.

"Did you enjoy the show?" A deep voice spoke from stage left, followed by a tall man with dark hair.

"Quite." Betty stood at the arrival  of Forsythe Jones. She'd seen his face in newspapers before, but he was much more handsome in person.

"You are Elizabeth Cooper." He stated, stepping through the rows of seats to stand in the row just in front of her.

"And you're Forsythe Jones."

"Call me Jughead." His lips quirked into a small smile.

"Well, if we're on a nickname basis… you can call me Betty."

She held her hand out to him and he took it happily. His hand was large, enveloping hers completely as they shook.

"I invited you to a VIP booth, did my assistant get in contact with you?"

"Ah, so you noticed." Betty smiled. "Yes, I got the message. However, I paid my modest fee for my carefully chosen seat and I intended to sit there amongst the… peasants."

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to tease strange men?"

"Are you a strange man, Mr. Jones?"

He didn't respond to this question. Instead, he laughed. Betty raised an eyebrow at him, something about his presence felt familiar; almost comforting.

"I so wish you would have taken my invitation." He laughed. "Your conversation is much more stimulating than Kevin's, my assistant. He's just a bundle of nervous energy most of the time."

"Were you not nervous on your opening night?" Betty found that hard to believe. "I am always nervous out of my mind when I release a new line."

"You see right through me, Miss Cooper."

She was fascinated by his eyes. A deep sparkling blue. There wasn't a lot of color in today's world. Even her own designs tended toward silver and gold trimming on black and white fabric. Perhaps she should consider investing in some blue dyes, or maybe red and green. The new year approached in a few short months, and with it her next line of fashion due to hit the market.

"The night is young. Care to join me for a night on the town?"

Betty smiled a small apology. She knew just what a night on the town meant. "I'll have to politely decline."

"That's a shame." He shifted his weight and began walking toward the exit. "Allow me to give you a ride home. I'd love to hear what you think of the show."

"My car should be waiting." Betty replied, following him toward the exit.

"Let me at least show you my car." Forsythe Jones walked backward down the aisle, his eyes locked on Betty. "It's a gorgeous light blue with a convertible top, though I'll leave the top up since I believe it's getting a tad cold outside."

"A little presumptuous, aren't you?" Betty smiled regardless.

"I have faith in my car. Come on, I had Kevin bring it around front."

Betty followed him, admittedly curious. She'd never been too interested in cars. Her family had never had a personal car. She distinctly remember her first ride being in a taxi after she'd moved to New York to pursue her  dreams. Even now, she owned a car but had never had the courage to drive in the city. Instead, she hired a chauffeur.

The car was beautiful, standing out against the dark city street. It was much more beautiful than Betty's plain black car, which was parked just behind his. Betty noticed the smile in her comrade's eye as she stepped closer to the car. She'd seen some luxurious things in her time, but there was something different about this particular car. Maybe it was the stains of mud swirling around the wheel wells, something  most people with such a nice car and good amount of money would normally keep clean.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Forsythe swept his hand across the hood of the car, rubbing out a water spot with his thumb.

"She?" Betty responded.

"Well, of course." He replied. "Something this beautiful has got to be a woman, don't you think?"

Betty rolled her eyes, something she felt she may do often in the presence of this strange man. "I can't argue with that logic. It is a beautiful car."

Forsythe Jones smiled then, his lips curling up at the corners. "So you're saying you'll let me drive you home?"

Betty grinned in reply. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to." He stepped off the curb and walked around the driver's side of Betty's car, where Reginald Mantle sat waiting to take her home. "Hello, fine sir. I'd like to send you home early with a hefty tip. I'll escort Miss Cooper home tonight."

Forsythe held out a five dollar bill to the young chauffeur, which Reggie, bless his heart, refused to take.

"I'll need to speak to Miss Cooper. She tells me when to go home, sir."

Betty found her way to the passenger window. "It's okay, Reg. Take the money, go home, and don't spend that all at once."

"Thank you, Miss Cooper. My mother will be so grateful."

"Tell her hello from me." Betty smiled. "And also tell her that I'm still waiting for her to come to the office to get fitted for a new Sunday dress."

"I'll tell her, but I won't promise she'll listen. You know she gets nervous around expensive things."

"I'll win her over one of these days." Betty stepped back from the car. "Have a good night."

Reggie waved and waited for Forsythe to return to the sidewalk before pulling out onto the street. Betty watched the car disappear around the corner, even as she felt the presence of Forsythe Jones at her side once more.

"Well said, Miss Cooper. And it looks as if I've won you over as well?"

"Your car won me over." She corrected. "And it's a short ride home."

He walked over to his car and pulled the door open. Betty lifted her dress slightly to step into the car before she was stopped.

"Before you get in, promise me you will at least give me a chance to win you over during the drive."

"Do your worst, Forsythe Jones."

He closed the door behind her and moved swiftly behind the wheel. "Let's start with you calling me Jughead."

"Okay, Jughead. Woo me."

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Betty hooked her arm with Jughead as she led the way to her temporary New York apartment. He'd driven around the block twice after Betty had pointed out her building. She hadn't said anything when he kept driving, so he knew that he had, in fact, won her over on the short drive.

"I'd expected you somewhere a bit more lavish." Jughead said when they stopped at the front door.

"I'm one woman, who spends a lot of time living in hotels and train cars. I don't need, nor do I care for an expensive house that I'll never use."

"Fair enough, I sleep in my office most days. Lately, actually I've been sleeping at the theater."

"All work and no play…"

"I wouldn't say no play. Normally I would try to go out and find some adventure on a Friday night, but something much more interesting came up."

Jughead frowned when Betty pulled her arm away. She reached for the door handle and prepared to go inside.

"I had a lovely time at the show, Jughead. Thank you for the ride home."

"My pleasure." Jughead held his hand out to her and she placed her hand in his. He lifted her much smaller hand, leaving a light kiss on the soft skin. "Can I call on you tomorrow?"

Betty took her hand back and stepped through her door. "You can try."

Jughead spent the rest of the night thinking about those last three words she said. Her confidence may be the most alluring thing about her, but something told him that she was just as interested in him as he was in her. He knew he'd be back the next day, and maybe convince her to have dinner.

His office was cold when he returned. So maybe he hadn't told the entire truth about why it was that he slept in his office. He had a small bed set up in the corner of the loft, a kitchenette set at the back of the room. His desk sat in front of the only window, providing a view of the city streets panning out beneath him.

It wasn't that he didn't want a bigger home, but he was comfortable here. He'd grown up in a one room home with his parents and sister, one that was smaller than the room he currently lived in. Anything bigger he thought would feel empty.

And anyway, he was satisfied with sending his well earned money to his parents so they could afford to give his sister, ten years his junior, an education. Not many women got the chance to go to school, but Jughead had made sure, since his produced his first play, that she would stay in school.

He was ridiculously proud of her, now in her first year of nursing school. She wanted to become a doctor, but would settle for nursing until she could make her case to the dean of the medical college that women should be allowed to study more advanced forms of medicine.

Jughead fell asleep thinking about this. He thought, maybe if tomorrow went as planned he'd one day be able to introduce his sister to Betty Cooper. Betty had managed to make a name for herself in a man's world. She could instill some hope in his young sister.

The morning sun woke him early, a stream of bright light shone across his eyes. He yanked a pillow over his face, begging for sleep to take him back again, but it seemed he was not destined to return to dreamland. In the light of the new day, he felt nervous about his eventual return to Miss Betty Cooper. There was something about the dark of the night that granted him confidence, like she wouldn't see though him to his less than golden past.

Despite his current misgivings, he left his small home late in the afternoon to call on the young woman. His building seemed different in the daylight, and he caught a glance of golden blonde hair in the window above. Jughead smiled to himself; now he remembered why he swallowed his anxiety to take the few short steps to the building's lobby.

"Good afternoon, sir." A man in a suit and bellman's hat stood behind a desk in the lobby, a bright smile on his face. "How can I help you today?"

"Elizabeth Cooper?" Jughead supplied. "Would you let her know that Jughead Jones is here?"

The man nodded and pressed a button on an intercom. He spoke in hushed tones, so Jughead couldn't hear what he was saying to her.

"She wants me to tell you that she may or may not be down in ten minutes, and that you should wait outside."

Ten minutes. Jughead leaned against his car as he watched the time pass as various businessmen walked down the street, briefcases in hand. As ten minutes approached, he started to worry that she wouldn't be coming. Then… something caught his eye. A swatch of pale yellow fabric fluttered out of the window through which he'd seen golden hair ten minutes prior. A leg poked out from under the fabric as none other than Betty Cooper climbed out onto the fire escape.

"I don't remember Juliet climbing off her balcony to meet Romeo." Jughead called out to her.

"Who said I wanted to be Juliet?" Betty replied. "They die in the end you know. An esteemed writer such as yourself should be familiar with the works of Shakespeare, no?"

She was climbing down the metal stairway, careful not to let her dress get caught on any sharp edges. Jughead stepped away from his car, closer to the building as Betty reached the final ladder leading to the sidewalk. The end of the ladder stopped three feet from sidewalk.

"Well, Romeo. Are you going to help me down or not?"

Jughead obliged. He held one hand to her waist, the other to the hand not holding the ladder, and she hopped to the sidewalk. Betty was smiling, her soft features even more beautiful in the day light. Her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head, a delicate chain around her neck.

"I'll admit, after last night I wasn't sure how you'd respond to my coming here today."

"What can I say? You are a mysterious man, and I need a little excitement in my life." Betty brushed past Jughead and walked around his car.  "It's much more beautiful in the daylight."

"Most things are." Jughead replied.  "Would you be interested in dinner?"

"You have a place in mind?"

"I do." Jughead smiled, opening the passenger door for Better to enter. "And I just so happen to be friends with the owner."

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"It was a disaster!" Betty laughed, recalling a story from her past over a plate of spaghetti. "It was my second fashion show ever, and the first model tripped over the front of the dress and fell right on her face!"

"I don't see how that's something you can control, though." Jughead responded. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better. "It's not your fault she was clumsy."

"Here's what you need to know about the fashion industry." Betty took a sip of her water. "If the model stumbles, it’s the shoes. If the model trips and falls, it's absolutely the fault of the dress. I thought my career was over after that. It was all over the community that I couldn't sew a proper hem length."

"It seems you managed to get past that. At least, you seem to have done pretty well for yourself."

Betty shrugged. It had been a little discouraging to have her name alongside "Fashion Fail" in the newspapers, but she had survived. That one moment that had threatened her career, ultimately only increased her motivation to prove the critics wrong. And now here she was, one of the most successful fashion designers in the world sitting across the table from one of New York's greatest playwrights.

"Are you up for a little excitement tonight?" Jughead spoke again. He had finished his food quickly, and watched as Betty slowly took small bites of her food. Now, however, Betty had finished her meal and assumed he would be taking her home.

"I suppose I can't say no to excitement, especially after I specifically said that was what I was looking for."

"I've got something in mind if you'd like to see?" Jughead raised his hand to signal the waiter.

"I trust you." Betty smiled as Jughead spoke to their waiter.

He asked to give his compliments to the chef and they were led back toward the kitchen. Betty didn't bother to ask what exactly they were doing, but she had an idea. The kitchen was a frenzy of activity, but the chef saw Jughead, shouted some instructions, and then made his was to where they stood by the door.

"Jughead Jones!" The tall man reached out to shake Jughead's hand. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Betty offered her hand to him and the chef placed a soft kiss to her hand.

"The is Elizabeth Cooper, world renowned fashion designer AND my date for the evening so you'd better watch yourself, Sweet Pea."

"Sweet Pea?" Betty questioned.

"It's a nickname, obviously. When you're in a certain business it's better for your clients to not know your real name."

"So I take it you're not just a chef then?"

"Clever." Sweet Pea winked at her then turned his attention to Jughead. "So you're going in then?"

"If you'd be so kind." Jughead crooked his elbow for Betty to link their arms as they followed Sweet Pea to the back of the kitchen where two large metal doors stood side by side. The moved through the door on the left and were escorted into a room cloudy with smoke and smooth jazz crooning from a stage set in the back of the building.

Sweet Pea got the attention of the bartender, speaking quietly so that other customers couldn't hear him. "These two are VIP. All drinks are free tonight for them." He turned to face Jughead. "Try not to make me go bankrupt."

"No worries." Jughead clapped him on the shoulder and Sweet Pea disappeared back to the kitchen.

Betty was more focused on the environment around her than the bottles of alcohol organized behind the bar. A few small tables with a few men and women sitting around each. She suddenly felt like her outfit, long and covered in lace, was entirely out of place. The few other women in the room wore black flapper dresses, a fashion Betty had never given a second thought to, and accessories made of feathers around their necks and on their heads.

"Betty?" Jughead's hand was on her elbow, leading her through the small crowd. "Are you okay with this table here? Close enough to hear the music but not too close that I can't hear you talk."

"Who said I wanted to talk?" Betty teased. She took the seat anyway as Jughead ordered from the bar. He returned with a glass of whiskey for himself and red wine for her.

"I wasn't sure what you would like, so I took the easy option."

"That's fine. Honestly, wine is the only alcohol I've had… and that was usually at church or at home when my sister snuck some her current beau."

"I often forget how young you are." Jughead said, followed by a sip of his bitter drink.

"Too young?" Betty asked. She was twenty-four, and by the time she'd reached an age where she felt the desire to drink alcohol it had become illegal. Even with her connections, she had never ventured into a speakeasy until tonight.

"You seem the perfect age to me. It fits you."

The smell of smoke and spilled alcohol permeated the small room, and as the night wore on more patrons entered through the secret door in the kitchen. The room became increasingly crowded and Betty was pushed in Jughead as another couple joined their table.

Jughead seemed to sense the tension she felt with the crowd because he stood and offered his hand to her.

"One dance and I'll take you home?"

Betty took his hand with a smile and followed him to the small bit of the open dance floor. The music came halting to a stop and was replaced by a slower ballad, the bass plunking out a deep rhythm. A sweet melody floated out from the upright piano at the side of the stage.

Betty  draped one arm over Jughead's shoulder, the other held in his hand as he pulled her close at the waist. They swayed softly with the music, a few other couples following their lead. There wasn't much room to move, so Jughead pulled her in small circles until the music wound down and ultimately went silent.

Jughead's arm was still around her even when the music stopped, and Betty thought that she quite liked this. She hadn't danced with a boy since she was in school and even then it felt forced, like something she was expected to do. Here, it felt entirely unexpected and exciting.

Jughead led her back to the door they had come through and passed through the kitchen, which had since become much more quiet. The streets outside were still crowded with people moving from one place to another, but in the alley beside the restaurant Jughead's car sat alone.

"I think I'd like to ride home with the top down, if you don't mind." Betty asked as they approached the car.

"I thought you'd never ask."

With the wind in her hair, Betty felt more free than she ever had before. City lights glowing around her and a handsome man sitting next to her, she could get used to a life like this. She wasn't entirely ready for the night to end when her apartment was suddenly imposing in front of her.

"You'll walk me up?"

"We aren't going up the fire escape this time, are we?" Jughead teased.

"I think the indoor stairs will do just fine." Betty took Jughead's arm as she led him to her doorway. She stopped outside the door, not yet taking her key from her purse. "When can I expect you to call on me again?"

Betty turned to face Jughead, their bodies so close she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He tilted his head down, closer to hers and his lips pressed softly against her cheek.

"As soon as possible." He said, pulling away.

"I look forward to it."

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A/N: Let me know what you think! Trying to write in the mind of how people acted almost 100 years ago was a bit strange, but I hope I did it justice. Keep an eye out for part 2!