#I hope your holidays felt the absolute same just as much too! like you!!!! *bear hug!!* 🌟

[sanjoongie]

ₛₙₒwₑd ᵤₙdₑᵣ

☃snowed under: be overwhelmed with a very large quantity of something, especially work.

☃Submission for the Anti Holiday Event from @lapydiaries, prompt chosen: too busy to go home

☃Rated: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

☃Genre: fluff, smut

☃Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f)

☃Au: non-idol, office

☃Trope: co-workers to lovers

☃Word Count: 4,493

☃Warnings: Wooyoung is a persistent menace, he also flirts while cooking, kissing, slight body worship, biting, oral (f), hair tugging, hand holding during oral 🥺, kissing with your cum on his lips, penetrative sex with a condom, slight overstim, pain kink, scratching, wooyoung is a panty thief

☃Summary: when your work makes you too busy for the holidays, or gives you any time to visit home, you gain a temporary guest in Wooyoung who is looking to chase away the holiday blues with you. But will a sentimental, intimate setting make this into more than it was meant to be?

☃Soundtrack: Stray Kids' Christmas EveL album {Happy Holidays 🥰}

You cradled your phone between your shoulder and your ear, typing out a work email on your laptop. “I know I know Mom but it’s utterly too busy. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Your mother let out a disappointed sigh and your heart hurt from the sound. “I know work comes first but I was hoping…”

“I was hoping too,” You said eagerly, trying to portray to your mother that you weren’t using work as an excuse. “But this holiday advertisement is just booming and we’ve gotten so many offers for work after Christmas. I can’t just jet off and leave my team to handle everything.”

“I know, dear,” Your mom sounded wearing but proud. “You’ll find time to call though?”

“I will, I promise.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up, rubbing your temples. What was it that you had to do next?

“Heyyyyyyy.” Wooyoung rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to your office and then upon a quick inspection that you weren’t on the phone or otherwise occupied, he collapsed onto the chair in front of you and your desk as well.

Quickly, you moved your open drink out of the way, in case Wooyoung decided to be even more dramatic, and spilled your drink. “Can I help you?” You mused.

“Why did we decide to launch a holiday campaign? I'M EXHAUSTED!” Wooyoung lamented into your desk.

“It’s extremely lucrative,” You brought up.

“Yes, but is the money worth my mental state?” Wooyoung wailed.

Project Manager was a title you held with honor while Wooyoung was your graphics designer. You tried your best to help him out by being the communication between the client and Wooyoung, but Wooyoung still had to bear most of the creative weight. He was pulling long hours at the office and you felt bad for pushing him so hard.

You tentatively patted his head and you froze when Wooyoung moaned loudly. “Uh, Wooyoung, that’s not exactly appropriate noise for being in my office.”

Wooyoung sat up, a pout pulling at his lips. “That’s the first comfort I’ve had in like 72 hours, come on!”

“At least the client has finally settled on what they would like color wise?” You offered optimistically.

Wooyoung blew a raspberry, sinking into the chair until his chin hit his chest. “For now.”

You made a noise of sympathy. “I’ll make it up to you,” You offered.

Wooyoung’s lips were lifted in a sign of dissatisfaction. “Unless you can give me extra time so I at least get to enjoy the holidays then I’m not sure how you can do that.”

You winced. “If it’s any consolation, I'm in the same camp, buddy.”

Wooyoung suddenly brightened up, sitting up in the chair. “Yeah?”

“You needn’t look so enthused,” You grumbled goodnaturedly.

Wooyoung laughed brightly and tipped his head back, covering his mouth. “No. I just mean! I’m all alone for the holidays too.”

It took you a few minutes to absorb that information and to understand why Wooyoung would be excited about you being alone too. “Oh no,” You said, putting your hands up. “Absolutely not.”

Wooyoung frowned and began to whine. “What do you mean no? It could be fun. Come on!”

As much as you were a very hands on person in your job life, it took a lot out of your social battery. So when you clocked out, you enjoyed the solitude and silence of your home. It gave you a headache even imagining Wooyoung in your home for even a 24 hour period. You began to rub your eyebrow in worry.

“I’ll be the best guest, the very very best,” Wooyoung promised. He took your hand into both of his and clasped it warmly. “Plus, I hear you’ve got a nice place. It’s probably nothing like the cramped bachelor I’ve got.”

“Wooyoung…” You tried to tug your hand back, but Wooyoung had a very firm grip on you.

“You said you’d make it up to me!” Wooyoung pouted with his eyes now, making them big and wet and pleading up at you.

You sighed heavily. “Fine. I am a woman of my word.”

Fast forward to the week of Christmas, specifically Christmas Eve. Wooyoung landed on your doorstep bright and early, much to your not-an-early-bird chagrin.

You invited him in and it was a whirlwind as Wooyoung typically emulated. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. He twirled around as he took in the second floor balcony and your eight foot tall Christmas tree. “Your place is gorgeous!” He yelled.

You grasped the back of his jacket, that was currently only being held up in the crook of his elbows, and pulled it off to hang up. “Thank you, Wooyoung. Now--”

Wooyoung was already in your state-of-the-art kitchen, rummaging through your cupboards. “Do we need to go to the grocery store? It doesn’t look like you have flour. You do have sugar, that’s a good sign. We’ll need coloring and sprinkles and--”

“Wooyoung!” You shouted.

Your graphic designer paused, eyes on you, mid-grab of a mixing bowl you didn’t even remember you had. “What?”

“Why are you tearing apart my kitchen?” You screeched.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” Wooyoung drew out the syllable like his tongue needed to catch up with his brain. “Because we’re going to make Christmas yummies?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “It’s the holidays!” you protested. “We should be resting. Ordering take out. Maybe watching some movies?”

Wooyoung frowned like you just told him Santa wasn’t real. “But I had this whole plan. Making homemade hot cocoa and dipping Frosty the Snowman cookies in them!”

You rubbed your face with your hand. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung rounded your island and grabbed your two hands between his again. “I promise it’ll be fun. Come on. Don’t you want some holiday cheer in here?”

Somehow you let Wooyoung talk you into going to the grocery store, even though it was chilly and you hated the cold. But Wooyoung’s enthusiasm drew you like a moth to a flame. So you let him tug you through the rows, as he grabbed ingredients for his grand master plan.

“What about Christmas dinner?” Wooyoung wondered.

“Wooyoung… there’s only the two of us. Surely you don’t want a turkey too?!” You said, flabbergasted.

Wooyoung laughed, high pitched and throwing his head back, just like in your office. People looked over at you and you felt your cheeks heat up. “We can do something smaller. Come on. It’s the least I can do for you, since you took me in. Otherwise, I might just be heating up a microwave dinner in my tiny bachelor.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “Okay.”

Wooyoung bit down on his lower lip, eagerly eyeballing you. “Yeah?”

You breathed in deeply and let it out with a gusty sigh. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Impulsively, Wooyoung brought your hands to his lips and he gave them a loud smacking kiss on the back of them. “You won’t regret it!”

Your mouth dropped as Wooyoung dashed down the aisle, his boots squeaking against the linoleum as he took the corner quickly. Did your coworker just kiss your hands?

“Woo-Wooyoung!” You shouted at him.

“We need peanuts!” Wooyoung shouted.

You pushed the cart full of baking supplies already and attempted to follow the lightning bolt that was named Wooyoung.

Back at your house, you sat on your couch, leaning over the back, watching as Wooyoung took over your kitchen. He prepared everything mise en place, carefully measuring and setting out various plates and bowls of ingredients. Once he was ready, and he turned on the oven, his eyes glittered as he looked at you.

“I’m missing something,” He announced.

“Oh no, did we forget something?” You worried, looking around, hoping it was still in a grocery bag.

Wooyoung grabbed an apron from a bag on a chair and walked steadily towards you. “I need a sous-chef.”

“Oh, Wooyoung, I don’t--”

Wooyoung ignored you. He was behind you, reaching around and tying an apron around your waist. You held in your breath as Wooyoung finished the knot at the small of your back. He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you around. “I’ll guide you through everything.”

A shiver slid down your spine. You mentally smacked yourself. There was no need to have any dirty throughts while Wooyoung simply meant you didn’t have to worry about fucking up his Christmas baking. Right?

Wrong.

Wooyoung had his arms around you the majority of the prepping. If anything needed to be cut up, his hands were around yours, showing the proper way to cut. If you had the rolling pin, he was leaning with you as pie dough was flattened. He made sure your hands were properly floured. He mixed cookie dough with you in your mysterious mixing bowl, feeding a piece of cookie dough and chocolate chunks into your mouth.

That was your last straw. “I need a break,” You said, breaking Wooyoung’s seemingly magic hold on you.

“Why why why, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung’s brown, wet eyes followed you as you put the island between him and you.

“Bathroom break,” You lied through your teeth and made a beeline for your upstairs bathroom, the one connected to your bedroom.

You pushed the door closed behind you and raised your hand to your lips. You swore you could still feel his fingers brushing against your lips as he--you slapped your cheeks with both hands, hoping to wake yourself from whatever dreamland you were in right now. What the actual fuck was going on right now?

You ran the water next and had splashed your face a few times before a loud knock on the door scared the shit out of you, making you jump in the air.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wooyoung’s voice filtered through the wood.

“Yeah!” You shouted back. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You seemed a little flushed down there. You aren’t coming down with anything, are you? I could pivot and make chicken soup if you need it.”

You sighed loudly. Wooyoung was simply a touchy-feely guy. He cared and he gave. You were looking way too fucking deep into everything. Whatever you were feeling, needed to be reeled back.

You opened the door and pasted a cheerful smile on your face. “No, I’m fine. Like I said, bathroom break. Why did you follow me up here anyways? Don’t you have cookies to check on?”

Wooyoung rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet, like he was holding himself back. “I’ve got a timer for that.”

You waited for Wooyoung to turn to the side so that you could leave your bathroom but he didn’t budge. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flitted across your face and you weren’t sure what he was trying to find there. This whole situation felt weird. You felt like Wooyoung was waiting for you to say or do something, but you didn’t know what that was. You let out a sigh and moved past Wooyoung.

“I’m going to go find a movie to put on. Are you more of a The Santa Clause guy or The Christmas Story?”

Your body brushed by Wooyoung’s and in that moment you learned exactly what Wooyoung had been waiting for. His arms circled behind your back and stopped you from moving past him completely. His eyes remained studying your face and his Adam’s apple bobbed in apprehension.

“Boss, do you know why I’m here today?” He asked, his tongue flickering over the freckle on his lip.

You froze. “Uh, because otherwise we’d both be alone on Christmas?”

“No,” Wooyoung murmured. “So that I could get closer to you.”

You laughed nervously. “Well, this is pretty close.”

“Not close enough,” Wooyoung whispered and then leaned forward to press his lips against yours.

His tongue followed the seam of your lips until you opened up for him. Then it tangled with your tongue, as if he was searching out of the taste of the sweet cookie dough you had just consumed minutes ago. It wasn’t until Wooyoung moaned softly into your mouth that you pushed at his shoulders and broke the kiss.

“What was that?” You whispered.

“That was a kiss, Boss,” Wooyoung teased.

“No, seriously!”

“You didn’t like it?”

You didn’t know how you felt. Your mind was reeling with your reality. Did you graphics designer just kiss you with tongue? And did you like it?

A loud buzzer sounded through your loft and then Wooyoung yelped in response. “The cookies!” He shouted and bounded out of your bedroom. And then ran back to the doorframe. “We’re not done with this conversation!” He shouted at you and then ran downstairs.

You were half tempted to lock your bedroom door until Wooyoung threatened to break down the door but you didn’t want to bother the entire building with your drama. So you slowly but surely moved out of your bedroom and down the stairs into the living room.

Wooyoung was moving his chocolate chunk cookies to a cooling rack. His eyes found yours and then he snatched a cookie. “They’re soft and gooey, you should have one.”

You stared at Wooyoung as he broke a cookie apart and then fed it to you. And when you didn’t open your mouth immediately, he said “ah!” loudly until you did. The cookies were perfect. Just like Wooyoung’s typical work.

Wooyoung smiled happily as you chewed and then zoomed back behind the island to decorate the Frosty cookies from earlier.

“So?” Wooyoung asked, without lifting his eyes from his work.

“The cookies are perfect,” You said cautiously.

Wooyoung sent you the most bald-face look, clearly expressing he knew you were avoiding his actual question.

“I’m still processing,” You said.

“I could kiss you again if you need more data,” Wooyoung grinned wickedly.

“I’m turning on a damn movie,” You grumbled.

Wooyoung blew a raspberry at your response but finished his job nonetheless. He made hot cocoa. He slowly heated up the milk, melted the dark chocolate with a double boiler, and whisked his own whip cream.

By the time the intro for The Santa Clause was done, Wooyoung was bringing over his festively decorated Frosty the Snowman cookies and two mugs of hot cocoa. You dug in and you couldn't help but moan out loud at how good the cookies were with the hot cocoa.

“See,” Wooyoung sent you a knowing look, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” You couldn't help but say quietly.

Wooyoung froze mid dip of his cookie. “Are you a serial killer or something I don’t know about?”

Now it was your turn to send him a dirty look. “No but I don’t have any time to entertain a relationship, Wooyoung. You know better than anyone how much my work life consumes my time.”

“Yeah I do know,” Wooyoung agreed.

Wooyoung put his own cookie and mug down, prying the same items from your hands as well, and putting them on the coffee table. “Do you think that information changes how I feel?”

You couldn't help but gasp. “Wooyoung, shut up.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “No, I won’t. We work together, so that’ll make up for the time we don’t get at home. And don’t you know how healing it is to even sleep in the same bed as the one you--?”

You pressed a finger to Wooyoung’s lips. “Stop that.”

Wooyoung gently set his teeth into the tip of your finger playfully. “Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he said with a husky voice.

“Wooyoung!” You hadn't meant for his name to come out as a whine but it did. You could feel your resolve crumbling.

“I can take care of you,” Wooyoung said, his face completely open. “I can cook, I can fu--”

“No, No! Wooyoung, this is ludicrous. Work romances are notoriously messy. What happens if it doesn’t work out? We work too closely together. Plus, if we sleep together, you’ll always look at me like I’m a present to unwrap for you and I cannot handle that on the daily.”

Wooyoung broke out into giggles. “You’re the boss. Who’s going to yell at you if you’re the one that got caught doing it in your office?”

“We are not doing it in my office, Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung pushed you to your back on the couch. “Can we do it here?” He cocked his head cutely.

Goosebumps littered your skin. You could barely handle Wooyoung begging to go on constant coffee runs at work, how did you think you could deny him this?

“No, we cannot do it here,” You whispered, your throat tight with lust.

“I’ll make you a fresh cup of cocoa when we’re done,” Wooyoung promised, leaned down.

Wooyoung once again stole your breath and a kiss from your lips. His lips pressed against yours and then after a few smooches, his lips travelled along your jaw and then down your neck. You were craning your neck to give him room before you realized he was enjoying himself a little too much by sucking a mark there.

“Jung Wooyoung,” You growled, slapping a hand over the mark. “You did not!”

Wooyoung looked pleased with himself. “I did.”

“You must be stopped,” You said in exasperation.

Wooyoung’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I don’t want you to tell me to stop until you get overstimulated.”

“Excuse you?!” You squawked.

Wooyoung was dissolving into giggles again, all the while pushing your sweater up to reveal your stomach and bra. His lips kissed along the tops of your breasts, following the curve of your breast until he met your sternum. He gently but thoroughly kissed down your stomach before his eyes flicked back up to meet yours again.

“I’ve been a good boy. I let you taste my cookies. Let me taste you now.”

You sucked in a breath, only feeding Wooyoung’s ego even more. Still, he patiently waited until you nodded stiffly and then he hooked his fingers under your sweats and underwear, and pulled them off until you were bare from the waist down.

Your heart beat out of your chest as he settled between your legs and placed sweet kisses along your mound. You could feel yourself warming up for the graphics designer. He bit down into the flesh part of your thigh before soothing it with his tongue and kisses.

When Wooyoung ate you out, you felt like you were an ice cream sandwich. His tongue delicately licked your inner folds like he was truly gathering your wetness on his tongue to taste you. His eyes would shoot back to yours every once in a while, to gauge how you were but you were simply a whimpering mess, biting down on your finger to keep your moans from getting louder.

Wooyoung tugged on your arm until you let go of your finger. “Wanna hear how good I’m doing,” He mumbled and then went back to business.

“Oh fuck,” You cursed as Wooyoung began to kitten-lick your clit.

One hand dove into his hair to hold him in place and your other scratched against the cushion below you. Wooyoung immediately pressed his fingers in between yours, just as he flattened his tongue against your clit, knowing you’d need the support.

“Wooyoung, wait!” You whined. “I’m gonna--jesus!”

Your thighs shook as your orgasm ripped through you embarrassingly early. It had been a while since you had gotten such good head.

“Oh fuck that’s hot,” Wooyoung mumbled before he was climbing up your body to kiss you again.

You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips and you shuddered at how dirty it was.

“See, told you I could take care of you,” Wooyoung whispered, lips pink and swollen from kissing you and eating you out.

You swallowed loudly. “You did.”

“Let me fuck you on the couch,” Wooyoung pleaded, pressing his head to your forehead charmingly.

“You better have a condom,” You scowled.

“Never leave home without them!” Wooyoung proclaimed.

He stood up and reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a condom package. He bit down on the packaging and then began to undo his pants.

“Wooyoung…oh god.” You went from scolding Wooyoung to moaning about the state of his lower half. He had barely pushed his pants down to his thighs when you saw his cock pressed up against his black boxer briefs. He was thick.

Wooyoung pressed his lips together as he smoothed the condom over his length. “I’m going to stuff you, lovely, just you wait.”

You pushed yourself up from the couch, sitting up the proper way, facing Wooyoung. “If you make some corny joke about me being a turkey, I swear to god,” You threatened.

Wooyoung threw back his head and laughed; the same laugh that had been entertaining you from the office to the grocery store and now in your living room. It never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Whether it was its charm or its owner, you weren’t quite sure, but it always made you react.

“Nah, I just wanna fuck you good,” Wooyoung admitted.

“Shut up,” You whispered, feeling your face heat up again.

“Gladly,” Wooyoung whispered huskily.

He slipped between your legs, rubbing up against your wet folds. His lips pressed against yours, sensually kissing you while he slicked up his condom-covered cock. It was a bit of a job working himself deeper inside of you. You were tighter once you’ve come, however, Wooyoung sounded like he was enjoying every moment of it.

“Sucking me in, jesus,” Wooyoung grunted.

“I am not,” You hissed.

Wooyoung grinned in response. He scooped a leg under one arm and bend pulled it up so he could get a better angle inside of you. “Your pussy is greedy for me.”

“Wooyoung!” You scolded him under your breath.

Wooyoung started to rock his hips against yours, groaning at the sensation. You squirmed a bit as your sensitive clit rubbed against his taut stomach.

“I got you,” Wooyoung cooed at you, cupping your face with his free hand.

“It's too much,” You whined.

Wooyoung’s grin couldn't get any wider. “Want me to stop?”

You couldn't help but pout. “No, I just--” You moaned as he grounded against you again.

“You like a little pain with your pleasure?” Wooyoung lifted an eyebrow at you. “That’s cool. Me too.”

“I--”

You dug your fingers into Wooyoung’s shoulders as his hips swiveled against yours again. Wooyoung hissed and then he chuckled. “There you go.”

You wrapped your legs around Wooyoung’s waist, bucking your hips and meeting his thrusts. You could feel your wetness smearing against Wooyoung’s pelvis but you couldn't give a crap because it felt so good.

You dug your teeth into the nape of his shoulder next and Wooyoung gasped. “Fuck yes.”

The both of you soon unraveled together. You sweet whines intermingled with Wooyoung’s loud, lusty moans. Wooyoung panted into the crook of your shoulder for a moment until his softening cock made him slip out of you and then you both groaned at the sensation. The condom remained and you watched in utter horror as his cum spilled out of the condom and onto your couch.

“Ah, shit,” Wooyoung laughed, eyes looking around for a cloth.

He pulled his pants and underwear up and as he jogged into the kitchen to wet a clean tea towel.

You winced as you pulled the condom out of you and tied it up. You left the couch to throw out the condom. You tugged your shirt back down and looked for where Wooyoung had tossed your--

“Here,” Wooyoung intercepted you with your pants.

You opened your mouth to address what exactly just happened but Wooyoung’s phone went off.

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it without pause. “Hey, Mom.”

Oh god. If you two hadn't come any earlier, you would have been interrupted by his mom calling. That was--

Wooyoung cupped his mouth over his phone. “No, I told you--uh, what? My location is different?” Wooyoung chuckled nervously. “What are you talking about?”

Wooyoung held his phone away from his ear as his mother screeched through the speaker. “Why didn’t you just bring the girl home instead of telling me you were too busy with work? Don’t you think I’d want to meet her?”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, shot anxiously to you, and then his lips pressed his cheeks back. “Mom. Seriously, we’re swamped with work, there’s no time.”

“Well, you make sure you make time to call your family tomorrow, okay? I don’t care how into this girl you are, your family--”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because Wooyoung dashed into the downstairs half bath and closed the door with his foot.

You sympathized at least about the mother disappointed in her child not coming home for the holidays.

At least it gave you time to put your pants on. You frowned when you didn’t find your underwear, however.

Wooyoung must have finished up his call because he came out with an ‘aw shucks’ look on his face. “I’m sorry about that. My mom is--”

“Your mom,” You mused out loud.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung laughed and then his face dropped. “Listen, there’s no pressure, we can just enjoy this and--”

“Eat dinner? Finish the movie?” you offered.

Wooyoung’s eyes scanned your face except this time you knew what he was looking for: Wooyoung wanted to know that everything was okay. You had just been fed and thoroughly fucked. What wasn’t there to like? “Yeah?”

“Yes, Wooyoung, I’m not going to kick you out of my place,” You deadpanned. “Geez, what kind of person do you take me for?”

“A harsh task mistress who's hard to impress,” Wooyoung supplied.

You laughed under breath, that was part a sigh. “You’re still sleeping on the couch.”

“Wait--hey!” Wooyoung protested. “Surely I wasn’t that bad of a lay!”

“No, for making a cum stain on my couch,” You replied.

“I didn’t even get a chance and I’m already in the dog house?” Wooyoung muttered to himself.

It was your turn to throw your head back and laugh, clutching your stomach and tears streaming down your face.

“Okay, it’s not that funny,” Wooyoung pouted, cleaning up his mess.

“Let’s see after supper,” You relented.

You could practically see Wooyoung’s ears perk up. “I’ll blow your pants off a second time.”

“Wooyoung,” You said his name in warning.

Wooyoung looked pleased at your response. “Maybe the third time I can convince you to let me sleep in the bed with you.”

It looked like you weren’t going to be able to shake off this man and you felt a little bit better for it. You two could fill the void each other was feeling after working so hard. And maybe you’d get to finish the movie too.

“As soon as you tell me where my underwear are,” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Wooyoung grinned. “They’re mine now.”

“Wooyoung!”

[fallstaticexit]

Trigger Warning: Intimate Scene (Sim Spice) / Death mentioned // Transcript & AN under the cut

Prev/ Part III: Wife / Beginning/ Pillowfort

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Coming soon is Part III, in which we will experience the next chapter in Nancy's life—as a wife, mother, and businesswoman. Nancy has put her past behind her and is working hard to continue elevating her family's business while raising two rambunctious boys with her husband and business partner, but is it all truly enough to keep her past and her desires at bay? Can she continue playing the perfect wife and mother when temptation shows up at her front door?Trigger Warnings: infidelity, drug use, sex and nudity.

AN: I will admit this update was killer. The lighting for the Queenie and Nancy scene drove me up the wall and I was debating to cut it after so many attempts at reshooting it. I couldn't bear to do it because of how absolutely important it was for Nancy to hear her mother's bitter self reflection. For context, Nancy and Geoffrey spends holiday break at Nancy’s parent’s cabin. There was a small scene before Nancy's talk with her mother and her deciding to pick Geoffrey of just them celebrating the holiday together with Nancy's parents and Nancy seeing how distant her own parents were with each other vs how Geoffrey was with her. I guess with me being sick and my game crashing I lost the drive to keep having to fix it. I hope this update reads well without it😞 💜

AN cont.: So what's next: I'm going to take another mini break to prep for Part III in which Nancy trades in her sad girl era for her hot girl office siren era 💅🏾. During the break, I'll be starting my sim downloads (which depending on when you see this, I've already posted them or will post them within the hour) I also have a pose coming for download too as a thank you for everyone who has been enjoying and viewing my story so far! ✨

Transcript:

[’You have 1 New Message’]

Nancy: [exhales] Vanessa... it’s me, Nancy.

Nancy: I’ve spent every day the last two years thinking of what I’d say if I ever got the chance to speak to you again...

Nancy: There’s just so much I want to say. I miss you. I miss your voice. Hearing it just now made me cry. It made me want to laugh [sniffles, chuckles]. I’m so happy I didn’t forget the sound of your voice. You still sound the same. You still sound like my Vanessa.

Nancy: Do you still look the same? Are you still as beautiful and bright as the sun? Are you still a blonde? In my dreams, I see red. I’d like to think you slowly grew the color out of your hair. There’s nothing in the world like a fiery redhead. There’s no one in the world like you.

Nancy: [sighs] I know I don’t have much time before this call ends. I want to ask you so many questions. There are so many things I need to know and so many things I have to tell you, but when you listen to this, I need you to know first that I love you, Vanessa. I'm so in love with you.

Nancy: I should have told you that after we kissed. I should have said it between each breath. I should have whispered it into your skin. I should have said it until I lost my voice, until it’s the only truth we knew.

Nancy: Do you love me, Vanessa? Do you love me too? Do you miss me so much it hurts to breath? Call me. I need you to call me. Please. My number is 932-

[’Message Deleted’]

-

Nancy Narrates: [She never called. Every day that past, I felt my heart break more and more]

Queenie: Nancy, is that you?

Nancy: Yes mother.

Queenie: [slurs] Sit with me awhile, will you?

Queenie: [sighs] Oh, Nancy. You truly have it all, don’t you?

Queenie: I had to marry a man I met once in order to elevate my family status. I bore his children, and now I support him while he runs an empire. It hardly mattered what I was capable of; he made me a mother. There was no better gift, no greater task to have, but then my son dies. Now all I have left is you. Because my son is dead, you get to stand in his place and inherit it all. All of this is now yours, and all you had to do was be born. That’s it. You will never know true sacrifice and loss. You get to live so effortlessly. [hums] My lucky girl.

Queenie: But you will be great, won’t you? All that I’ve loss will not have been for nothing, will it?

Nancy: I- I promise, mother. I’ll be great.

Queenie: [softly] Good girl.

Nancy Narrates: [ I understand.]

-

Nancy: [softly] Make love to me.

Geoffrey: Are you sure?

Nancy: I’m sure. You’re the one I want.

Geoffrey: [softly] Nance.. I love you so much.

Nancy Narrates: [I’ve grown to love him. I’ll grow to love this too]

Nancy Narrates: [Whatever it takes]

[sallytheseamstress]

.

Sally chuckled and looked down. She had never had any expectations for herself during Valentine, so she was never disappointed. Did she ever wish Jack would give her a gift for it? Maybe. She liked giving Jack and Zach little chocolates for the occasion, but that seemed just friendly. And she never really expected anything in return. "I think that, if people are excited about it, the Valentine's spirit is as good a reason for people to gather together and celebrate." Then she chuckled again. "I sure hope it's become commercial, otherwise we at the holiday store wouldn't get the revenue we get each February... Oh," she mumbled, and made a grimace. "I hope that didn't come across as too cynical."

The more Tiana spoke of this friend of hers, the more sympathy Sally had for her. "Good grief, that sounds just awful. But... Well, not to minimize what you felt, but... I guess it's good, that he ended up happy? At least, happy enough with this new girlfriend so as to choose to marry her." As soon as she finished saying this, she bit her tongue. Yes, that way too out of line. Way too insensitive as to what Tiana had felt. And yet, when Sally thought about what would happen if Jack suddenly showed up with a new partner, and eventually marry them... It would definitely break Sally's heart. Maybe lead her to rethink her own fears, her own lack of initiative. And, at the same time... She would be, on some level, happy for him. "Can you be happy and sad at the same time?" she thought out loud. "Sad for you, and happy for someone else?" And would the sadness and grief for what never came to be, be too strong to truly bear? She could only try to imagine it. But she had been so resigned to think that Jack would never love her, in her mind she was already grieving the relationship that never was.

Sally stopped walking right then. What was happening to her? She was dating Ella. She was happy with Ella. She was loved, and she was finally seen as something more than a friend. Sally was never going to get that from Jack, most likely. So why was she even thinking about this?

"I... I guess you're right," she said quietly, walking again next to Tiana. "I suppose it's better to get such things out of your chest, before it's too late." Really good advice. Such a pity Sally would never follow it.

"I'm not sure about the rest of us... But Halloween's definitely a highlight for me." A highlight was an understatement. It was the seamstress favorite time of year, and the one time in which she truly loved to dress up and let her imagination run absolutely wild. "Jack likes Christmas the most, I think, but we're all big Halloween fans at the store. Putting up the displays by the window is the most fun," Sally said with a big smile. "We all think together about what the theme will be, and we set mannequins for the costumes, and hang lights and fill the windows with spooky decorations... It's just great."

Tiana's question about what Jack and Zach were like was surely well-intentioned, but she wasn't keen on talking much more about them. Especially Zach: she knew he was rather shy and didn't want to share things about him behind his back. And as for Jack... Well, she wasn't sure she wanted others to know how much she liked him –even now, when she probably shouldn't. And Sally was certain that, once she started gushing over him, it would be hard for her to stop. "Oh, of course. I love dressing up during Halloween," she said, glad to talk about something else, especially something she truly enjoyed. "I've dressed as basically everything under the sun by now. I've gone as a witch about six times, always making it different in some ways; I dressed as a death-head hawkmoth once, and as a bat woman another time; uh, as a stormy rain cloud, too; as a spooky chandelier; oh, and last year, I went as a spider queen!" Sally finished saying excitedly. "What about you? Do you like dressing up?" Maybe she would get some good new costume ideas from Tiana, after all.

Tiana was enraptured by Sally’s vivid description of the green Macbeth gown. Tiana wished that she could look at such a gown in person, or, better yet, see the actress from the Macbeth performance wear that gorgeous iridescent gown and say her lines with bolstered confidence. Tiana thought the embroidery in particular was probably extremely impressive.

“My favorite holiday would have to be Valentine’s Day,” Tiana confided in Sally. “There’s just something about the day itself that makes me go crazy! Pinks and reds! Hearts everywhere! I never have a boyfriend for the Valentine’s Day festivities, but I’m happy as a clam all day long because I believe in the Valentine’s Day spirit. Are things more commercial now, maybe? Sure! But that spirit is the best part of the whole winter, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.” Tiana smiled dreamily. “If I did have a boyfriend, though… Well. I won’t say anything, but I almost thought I’d have a boyfriend at Valentine’s Day a few years back. You know what, I will say things—he ended up dating and getting married to another girl! The marriage happened a year and a half after that February, but the day I saw him with that friend of ours standing beside him, giving him little pats on the arm… I thought it was Halloween instead of Valentine’s week. They just got closer and closer after that, until suddenly, they were sending me their wedding invitation and I was long since out of the picture.” Tiana chuckled dryly. “Goes to show—you’ve gotta tell your friends what you’re thinking when you’re thinking it.” Her new friend Alice from the coffee mishap the other day had taught her that. If she had any more coffee mishaps, of which there had been many, maybe she’d meet someone to make her just call DeShawn and catch up.

“Oh, so this Jack likes to dress up!” Tiana said with glee. “Tell me more about you and the other people at the store! Including this Jack. Do you all have favorite holidays that you get to really run the show during? Or is it all hands on deck all the time?” When Sally mentioned that she was a fan of the old Christmas specials, Tiana squealed. “Yes! Yes! My friend from culinary school and I dressed up as Heat Miser and Snow Miser for Halloween one time! I had to be Heat Miser because the costume fit me and not them. You said you make Halloween costumes, Sally! Do you ever dress up in them yourself?” Tiana had a feeling that a holiday store employee probably knew how to dress up like a pro.

[ahogedetective]

a teddy bear was the only gift that Santa brought little Ari this year. oh, & it was the softest & fluffiest teddy Ari felt ... well, nearly. as grateful as she felt to receive such a wonderful bear, Ari already had one that remained to be her favorite -- it was kindly gifted to her by Shuichi! -- so ... if she has something so wonderful ... & this is the time for giving ... her idea made sense in her head. the caretakers understood, too, helping Ari stuff the bear in a glittery & festive box & label it to the person in her life that deserved something as special as the precious bear.

now, she sat in front of her brother - figure, underneath a pine in the park ( not quite like a decorated tree, but still the tree of the season ). a cheerful, genuine smile danced on her lips as she offered the box forward. " i ... it's for Shu, pl - please. I ... I would like for shhh ... Shu to have this, fff ... for Shu's happy holiday ... ! " // holiday inbox call! 🎁 ( I'm not sure if you would like for Shuichi to know that this was her only gift - somehow, perhaps through the caregivers! - but I shall leave that up to you! I don't mind, either way 😅 regardless ... even if this was the only gift she got, Ari feels that something so special should go to him. happy holidays, Kay! may they be as festive & bright & just as wonderful as you are 🌱 )

Being able to spend some time with Ari today for Christmas; it made Shuichi really happy. In fact, one of the caregivers had actually contacted him first, asking if he would be able to see Ari today, even if just for a little while. He eagerly replied that he could, as he was hoping he would be able to spend some time with Ari today, anyway. Though they had also told him something interesting in the text: that Ari insisted she must give the singular form of joy Santa gave her with him. It made him wonder why they exactly meant by that, as it did sound pretty vague... but maybe they would rather him find out for himself, once she sees him.

As they sat under the pine tree together, he gives a curious smile when she goes to sit in front of him. When seeing the glittery box- “!” His eyes widen in surprise, curiosity growing as he accepts it. “For me? Aww, Ari: you’re so sweet... thank you! I already love it before I even know what it is, hehe... but now, let’s see what it is!”

Opening it, he uttered the softest gasp when seeing the very fluffy teddy bear inside. “O-Oh my god... “ He was instantly in love with it the moment he saw it, slowly taking it out of its box. “Ohh, Ari, i-it’s so soft, and cute... I love it.” But as he looks at the bear... the realization hits him. The singular form of joy Santa gave her. Which must have meant that... she was gifting him the only thing she received for Christmas this year?

“Ah-!” The fluffy expression on his face turns into one of shock, body flailing slightly in his spot. He stammers out in a slight panic: “W...W-Wait a second!! Ari, are you... are you sure? I...i-isn’t this... the only gift you have received? And you’re giving it to me?! I...!”

‘Couldn’t possibly’, he almost was going to say, but very quickly quiets himself. He was afraid that if he said that, then it might make Ari think he was going to reject her gift to him, and surely make her sad... and making Ari sad, even if by accident, was something he would never wish to do. He’d be so angry at himself if he ever did that. Because it wasn’t as if he truly didn’t want to accept her gift. He does, but a part of him wouldn’t help but feel so bad for taking the only gift she has gotten. Even if he knows he’s gifted her a similar one before, he would still feel a little bad accepting it.

But at the same time.... Ari says she wants him to have this. Despite all of that, Ari wanted to gift her special present to Shuichi. “.......” Now that the realization hit him, he felt so silly for thinking about this the wrong way. He shouldn’t feel bad... rather; he feels special. Special that Ari wanted to give her such a special bear. “....H-Haha....” After a few soft exhales to compose himself, an even brighter, happier smile than ever before was on his face. “....Your big brother is such a dummy, Ari. I’m sorry; I hope I didn’t make you worry just now with my panicking. I was just worried that you were not going to have such a lovely gift originally for you anymore, but.... you want me to have this because it’s special, right? Ohhh, Ari...”

Now he was getting emotional... not being able to help the way his eyes become misty as he hugs the teddy bear close to his heart. He then takes a moment to hug the bear snug in one arm... and then carefully using both arms; he lifts Ari up slightly, so that he can place her on his lap. And now, he’s hugging both her and the teddy bear close against him. The most special gift, and most special little sister: snug in his arms...

“....Ari.” He whispers very softly. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Words cannot describe how happy and special you made me feel just now. To want to give me your special gift... I’m the world’s luckiest brother, to have a wonderful little sister like you. I promise, with all my heart: that I’m going to take absolute care of it. You made my Christmas one I’m going to absolutely remember forever...! And I hope that... I will be able to make your Christmas a very happy one soon, too...” Hoping that it is okay.... he places the softest peck to the top of her head. "You’re the best little sister, ever: I love you, Ari. Thank you so much, once more...”

[thejudgingtrash]

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

[xbaepsae]

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can’t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[plus-size-reader]

Perfect

12 days of Christmas Special 9

Dandy Mott x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1240 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Dandy’’s willing to do whatever it takes to give the reader the perfect Christmas

——————————————————————————————————

When Dandy promised you a perfect Christmas, you believed him but in all honesty, you were just expecting the same Christmas as the last few years. Gloria always made sure that everything looked absolutely perfect, which meant not being able to touch the decorations or the lights. 

You weren’t even allowed to eat the little candies in the dish above the fireplace. 

A Christmas with the Mott’s had a lot of rules and you knew that no matter what Dandy promised, it would always be the same way. 

In all honesty, you just wanted to be able to have a nice time with your best guy, cuddled up by the fire. A fire that you weren’t allowed to light due to Gloria's fear that it would make all of her best holiday dresses smell like smoke. 

Little did you know that that wouldn’t be a problem this year, Dandy had made sure of it. 

“Y/N, will you come here for a second?” The all too familiar tone of Dandy’s voice called through the house. It was just the two of you today, as Dandy had informed you that Gloria had a book club meeting this morning. 

You weren’t even sure that she was in a book club but when Dandy told you where she was, you believed him. After all, what reason would he have to lie to you? He never had before and the two of you had been together for almost two years. 

Besides, you were always glad to have time to yourselves. 

“Coming Dandy” you hummed, your heels clicking on the floor as you made your way up to the playroom. You were sure that was where you would find him, especially at this time of the day. 

However, when you actually got to the playroom doors, they were shut, with Dandy standing guard in front of them. 

“There you are, I’ve been waiting forever” He huffed, clearly expecting you to have sprinted up the stairs like a crazy person from the kitchen. Nevertheless, you ignored his pouting and instead chose to focus on what he needed from you. 

He had to have called you up here for a reason, but he was hiding something.

That much was obvious. 

“What is all this about Dandy? I have apple tarts in the oven” you asked, genuinely worrying about burning them. Usually Dora would make them for you but since she was out of commission this Christmas, you had to make due with what you had. 

And if they weren’t out of the oven by the time Gloria got home, you were going to get another lecture about using the oven. 

It wasn’t proper for the lady of the house, she would remind, even though you weren’t the lady of the house quite yet

...Which she also wouldn’t let you forget. 

Dandy only answered you with a wide smile, his hands behind his back as if keeping the world's biggest secret hidden there. 

Whatever he’d done, he was clearly proud of it. 

“You remember when I promised you the best Christmas ever?” he smiled, acting theatrically as he always did. He could be so dramatic sometimes but you loved him enough that it didn’t matter to you. 

You didn’t mind playing along. 

“Of course I do Dandy” You allowed, your heel tapping on the floor lightly as you grew increasingly more worried about your tarts in the oven. If this went on for much longer, they would be ruined for sure. 

However, as soon as Dandy opened the doors to the playroom, all thoughts of those tarts were forgotten. 

It was absolutely beautiful. 

The whole room was decorated with tinsel and glitter, with a huge sparkling tree in the middle of the room. It had bright red string lights and white ball ornaments that looked incredible. You couldn’t believe he’d done this all himself. 

You just couldn’t believe it. 

“Did you do this all yourself Dandy? This is beautiful” you gasped, checking out each and every detail. It was absolutely perfect, with every single piece in place. There were even stuffed animals under the tree, holding the place where the presents would go. 

You were in awe of it. 

Of course, all Dandy could do was smile, watching your reaction to the whole thing. It had taken him days but to see you so excited over it made the whole thing worth it. 

He would do anything to see that smile, anything that it took. 

Even, apparently, murder, not that he was planning on telling you about that. 

He just hoped that you didn’t look behind the closed curtain of the stage. That was, of course, where he’d chosen to keep both of the bodies that he’d strung up like puppets. Tonight just didn’t seem like the right time to bring that all to the surface. 

For now, he just wanted to have a nice night. 

This was the first year that he’d actually be able to give you the perfect Christmas that you’d always wanted. 

“I’m so glad you like it, because this is just the beginning” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his own. 

You had no idea what he could have on top of this but you were excited to find out. Dandy could be a tad bit selfish on occasion but when he fell in love or decided that someone was worth it-there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. 

...and you were no exception. 

In fact, Dandy was more caring than he’d ever been with you. Spoiling you was one of his favorite things in all the world. What better time to do so then Christmas? 

Without missing a beat, Dandy sat down on the couch, beside a large teddy bear. You knew that it was also brand new but you hardly paid attention to it. Instead, you focused on the large pile of delicately wrapped gift boxes, sparkling in the red lights of the Christmas tree. 

You knew that there was no way Dandy had wrapped them himself but you didn’t care. 

The point was enough for you, and you were practically vibrating with excitement as you looked at them. You hadn’t expected this from Dandy, who usually only did things that he wanted to do for himself. 

It was nice. 

“What is all that Dandy? Are those for me?” you wondered, genuinely unsure if he had done all this for you. 

...Though you should have assumed. 

“Of course they are, I picked them all out myself” he grinned, leaving your side for a moment to retrieve a single box from beneath the tree. “You can open one tonight?” he reminded, enforcing the one rule Gloria had about Christmas eve. 

Each member of the Mott family was allowed to open one present on Christmas eve before bed.

You momentarily felt the need to remind him that it was only two in the evening but didn’t bother. If Dandy wanted you to open a present right now, you weren’t going to argue. 

Besides, as excited as he was right now, you didn’t want to ruin the mood. 

“This one is extra special” he grinned, watching you lift the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring that sparkled in the light of the Christmas tree. It was incredible, but all you could focus on what it meant. 

Maybe you would be the lady of the house after all. 

[amysteriousmessenger]

MC giving RFA+Minor trio a gift for Valentine's day please! :D

I’ve tweaked this a little bit so it’s also a returned gift!! I hope you like it!! This is my second Valentine’s day request <3

RFA + Minor Trio Valentine’s Gift Exchange Headcanons

Yoosung Kim Valentine’s Gifts

You didn’t have to think too hard to decide on what to get Yoosung for Valentine’s Day, he had been complaining that he needed a new headset for a few weeks but had already spent his student budget on new limited edition LOLOL skins. The poor boy had already been reduced to instant ramen to afford these luxuries. You didn’t know too much about which sort of headset he’d prefer, so you just got him a decently branded one that had good reviews and hoped it would work.

You also wanted to get him some extra things to go in his giftbag, so you got him a new t-shirt tand some cute strawberry heart shaped Pocky, which you definitely didn’t buy with the pure intention of playing the Pocky Game with him. Of course not.

Yoosung would have put quite a bit of effort into thinking about what to get you for Valentine’s Day, since he didn’t want to screw up and be a bad boyfriend. He even asked Zen for advice, but didn’t think the bold, extravagant declaration of love really suited him.

Yoosung decided to go for the traditional route and gift you a little charm bracelet, a small bouquet of red roses and cook a meal for you. Of course, it was his special omurice, packed with extra love because it was Valentine’s day. He’d picked out the charm bracelet online, it was a little silver one with a sparkly star charm on it.

Zen/Hyun Ryu Valentine’s Gifts 

If Zen knew anything, it was dramatic romance. He’ll pour Valentine’s clichés on you like it’s nobody’s business. Zen buys you a chunky bouquet of red roses, a big box of chocolate (he doesn’t usually eat chocolate because he doesn’t want the sugar to affect his skin, so he makes sure the box is extra big so he can cheekily pick at a few that he likes) and takes you out for an evening meal.

When you get home after the dinner, Zen will pick you up outside the door and carry you bridal style over the threshold, just because he wants you to feel like a princess in his arms.

You can also bet that Zen is going to sing for you for Valentine’s Day. He’d have spent a while picking out the song, and depending on what he thought was best, it would be 1) Your favourite song, 2) A dramatic love ballad from a musical he’d been in, or 3) a joking strip-tease song.

For your gifts, you’d have gotten Zen some new skincare products that he’d been looking at. You knew how much he loved his sheet masks so you’d brought him a fun selection to have a try of. Some of your favourite evenings with Zen were spent doing skincare on one another, so you wanted an excuse to do that more.

For his big gift, you got him a ticket for two to go for an all-exclusive spa day trip. He was flustered that you’d spent so much money on him, but you assured him it was for the both of you to spend time together and to enjoy!

Jaehee Kang Valentine’s Gifts

Valentine’s Day wasn’t a holiday that Jaehee had off from work if it was a weekday, so you were really lucky this year that it had fallen on a Sunday. She’d gotten all of her work done late on the Saturday night in order to have the day free to spend with you.

You got Jaehee a fancy new coffee maker that she had had her eye on for a while, but couldn’t justify to herself since her old one was still in fine, working condition. You’d imported some special coffee beans for her to try too. You also felt like it was important to give Jaehee some flowers too, since you knew sometimes she felt so dull and drab because of how Jumin made her dress for work, she deserved to feel pretty too.

Jaehee got you tickets to a musical show you’d been wanting to see, but had missed the tickets for. She’d seen that a pair of them had gone up for sale second hand and had quickly snatched the sale in order to get them for you. It wasn’t a show that she’d have usually seen, but she’s very excited to get to watch it with you.

Jumin Han Valentine’s Gifts 

To start, you’d have gently implied to Jumin about setting a budget for Valentine’s Day, because God knows he didn’t know the value of money sometimes and you felt bad knowing you couldn’t match whatever he was going to spend. You didn’t want Valentine’s to be about money, but about your feelings for one another.

You told the chef on Saturday night that he wasn’t needed for breakfast since you wanted to make breakfast for Jumin yourself. You made him a spread of sweet pancakes with syrup and fruit and hand dripped his coffee yourself, taking the time to decorate a little foam Elizabeth the 3rd on top of it. You’d also made him lunch to take to work, and put a little note in it saying that you and Elizabeth missed him whilst he was gone. 

Jumin had arranged for the two of you to go to an extremely overpriced restaurant for dinner, which is where you were exchanging gifts. You have Jumin a pair of cufflinks engraved with yours and his initials, which he immediately swapped the ones he was currently wearing for. 

Coincidentally, Jumin also gave you jewellery, it was a beautiful necklace with far too many diamonds in. He clipped it around your neck, agreeing to himself that his selection was correct as it looked beautiful on you. He also added that there was another gift waiting for you at home, since it would have been inappropriate to bring to the restaurant. 

He had gotten you a set of lingerie to wear for the night, obviously. 

Saeyoung Choi Valentine’s Gifts 

Seven was a hit at heart, and a car guy, so the choice was obvious: you were going to get him a giant Hot Wheels tracks with all the extra decorations. You spent far too much money on it, but knowing how happy it would make him made it entirely worth it. 

You thought he was going to cry when he unwrapped it, and he immediately set it up and spent hours making the track and remaking it, adding extra obstacles, making the car go over Saeran’s head, loop, jump through flames- everything. He was so happy with your gift that he almost forgot to give you your own gift. 

Which he then changed into- 

Seven was going to be your maid for the day, outfit and all. He explained his gift by telling you he knew how much effort it must be to look after him, so he was going to look after you for a change, and ‘look good while doing it’. 

He also got you a bunch of imported snacks that you had really been wanting to try, but couldn’t work out the proxy or shipping to be able to do it. You were swimming in snacks, you didn’t know where they were going to go.

V/Jihyun Kim Valentine’s Gifts

Always a romantic at heart, V would have put a lot of effort into your Valentine’s gifts and spent a lot of time considering it, he wouldn’t have wanted it to be a commercial gimmick but an actual symbol of his love for you. You felt the same, of course.

For V, you gifted him a new portable polaroid camera and cartridges. He had so many big expensive cameras, but a little polaroid captures fun moments and prints them instantly. They could capture moments without taking V out of it and distancing himself.

You also gave him a set of imported watercolours from Europe, since the reviews said that they were really good. He’d mentioned wanting to experiment more with watercolours, so this was the perfect time to gift him a set to practice with.

For your gifts, V would have first gifted you a weekend getaway for the two of you, knowing how stressed you had been recently. He wanted to give you a chance to relax and to just spend some time being utterly in love with one another.

Secondly, V gifted you a painting, of your hand touching a rose petal and being illuminated by the sun. He didn’t need to explain it, because he knew the painting reached your heart.

GE Saeran Choi Valentine’s Gifts 

Saeran was always getting you gifts, so he wanted to do something extra special for Valentine’s Day, but remaining in the spirit of the holiday. He was in love with love, and wanted to show it. 

You’d woken up to a room full of flowers, so many flowers. Saeran would have decorated the room silently before you had woken up since he wanted you to wake up to the beautiful sight. He’d tell you the meaning of each flower and how each one represents a different reason as to why he loves you entirely. You’d been awake about thirty seconds, this man is shameless with his affection.

Saeran would make you breakfast in bed and would cook for you for the entire day, making whatever you wanted to eat. He’d already made a bunch of baked goods in preparation whilst you were asleep.

Over dinner, you’d give him his gifts even though you were worried that they weren’t enough in comparison to what he had done. You gave him some seeds, a new pair of gardening gloves since he was continuously hurting his hands on rose thorns, a photo album of the happy memories the two of you had been making with the RFA and a little keychain that had a picture of the two of you in it to go on his housekeys. Needless to say, he cried.

Saeran had also got you another gift, a tiny gold necklace with a little heart in the middle of it. He said he chose it because he wanted you to carry his heart with you everywhere you go.

Vanderwood Valentine’s Gifts

Vanderwood absolutely forgot Valentine’s Day was a thing until the day before, when he wanted in on Seven trying on his maid outfit to make sure it still fit okay and had to immediately explain himself.

He was not someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day, since he didn’t want to get attached to anyone, but you had somehow wormed your way into his life and refused to leave. 

He’d have gotten you a new laptop, since he couldn’t bear to look at that horrific old thing you were using. He set it up with anti-tracking software and made it as safe as possible to people like him didn’t steal your information, he wouldn’t do anything romantic, but he might be a little less mean to you for that day. He wouldn’t even say ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ to you, he’d just hand you the laptop and show you how to use it.

For your gift to Vanderwood, you tried gifting him a vape pen so help him cut down on smoking so much, but he didn’t willingly accept this. He took it, and would maybe use it when he was at home and no one could see him vaping though, since you’re the one who gave it to him. 

Just to add an extra gift in, since you knew the vape pen wouldn’t go down well, you gave him a voucher for a coffee shop and an Elvish dictionary: you had insider information that Seven was about to change the intercom on the door’s language, after all.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Home (Part 1)

Summary: Two years ago, you’d left behind your hometown and the love of your life to pursue your dream career, but returning for Christmas really made you start to second-guess that decision.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: A Christmassy one for ya’ll! This story is inspired by the requests above from @shawnie--jo, thank you for those and for the inspo! I couldn’t fit everything into a oneshot, so this may end up being three or four parts.

---

You stuffed your bag into the overhead locker and collapsed into your seat, completely exhausted.

Some chaos was to be expected when travelling so close to Christmas, but still, you really could've done without the three hour check-in queues and the chorus of screaming babies.

Leaning back in your chair and pulling on your headphones, you squeezed your eyes shut and just tried to think about all the things that would make this journey worth it, all the things you’d missed about Christmas with your parents.

The excitement on their faces as they greet you at the airport, your mother’s incredible home-cooking, your father’s insistence on playing charades three or more times a day. It was your first time visiting home since moving away two years ago, and you wanted the whole cosy, corny nine yards.

There was just one teensy little caveat to your relaxing family holiday- two years away from home meant two years since you'd seen Bucky.

You were childhood sweethearts, head over heels in love with each other for as long as you could remember and best friends for even longer. When you were offered a job across the country, you wanted so much for him to move with you, but he’d already promised his father that he’d take over the family car-repair business. 

It was the most difficult decision of your life, but eventually the two of you agreed there was no choice but to separate. 

Being away from him tore you apart for the first few months, but now you'd finally gotten back on your feet, and you were ready to come face to face with your past again.

Or so you thought.

---

Your parents pulled you into a tight bear-hug as soon as you walked through arrivals, taking your bags, talking your ear off and quickly ushering you to the car.

Amongst all the excited babbling, you just about managed to discern that they’d planned a welcome home party for you that night with half the neighbourhood, an announcement which triggered a mix of dread and excitement to begin churning in your stomach.

You were looking forward to seeing your oldest friend again, you just hoped to god that things wouldn’t be weird or awkward between the two of you.

After a short drive, the car pulled up outside your childhood home. Just seeing it from the outside made you feel all warm and cosy but, as soon as you glanced through the door, those feelings were amplified off the charts. 

The place looked incredible. Your mother had obviously put so much effort into making it look cosy and festive, you even felt yourself tearing up a little when you stepped inside. It was so elaborate, you had half a mind to interrogate her about a possible Christmas with the Kranks scenario going down prior to your arrival, but you decided it was probably best to just keep your mouth shut.

After you’d looked around properly and unpacked, it was only a matter of hours before the first guests started arriving.

You downed two beers to loosen yourself up a little. Each time the bell went, your eyes snapped towards the door, the sound making your heart leap out of your chest. It felt like you were waiting to find out whether that hard mass in the bottom of your stocking was a big-ass diamond or a lump of coal. 

When Bucky finally appeared in the doorway, your jaw almost hit the shag carpet. The last two years had been unreasonably good to him, he looked like James Dean but somehow even more buff. 

The boy you'd left behind had become a man in your absence and sweet Jesus it was really making you feel some kind of way. 

His eyes were frantically scanning the room but he hadn't spotted you yet, so you took the opportunity to sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, stranger.’

He swivelled round, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Before he said a word, you were pulled into a tight hug, audibly gasping when you were lifted clean off the ground.

‘Where the hell you been, Lilypad?’

You burst out laughing, remembering falling into a pond on your seventh birthday and him never, ever letting you live down. A wave of happy memories flooded your mind, making you smile widely as he set you down.

‘Still the same old Yucky.’

‘Hey, we agreed you wouldn't call me that anymore.’

‘I'll stop calling you Yucky when you stop calling me Lilypad.’

The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘Never.’

And just like that, it felt as though you'd never left.

You were excited to be with your old friend again, you were happy that there seemed to be no awkwardness between the two of you, and you were really doing your very best to suppress all the other intense feelings that had surfaced as soon as he’d walked through the door.

‘Come on, I'll get you a drink.’ You grabbed his arm and dragged him through to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge while he leant against the counter next to you. ‘Are you still working for your dad?’

‘Yep. He's hoping to retire in the next few years, so I'll finally be taking over.’

‘That's so great, you're pretty much set for life with that place.’

He nodded faintly, burying his hands in his pockets and flicking his gaze down to the floor. ‘So how, uh- how long are you back for?’

‘I'm flying back early on the 31st.’

‘You’re not even staying for New Year?’ The hint of disappointment in his voice made you immediately stop what you were doing and look over to him, his face going a little red as he shifted around awkwardly. ‘Ah, I bet you got loads of invites to big, crazy city parties.’

‘If you call staring at a computer screen until 3am and slowly spiralling into madness a party.’

You passed him a beer, his eyes staying fixed on the bottle as he mumbled. ‘All the work will be worth it one day though, right?’

‘I hope so.’

Your eyes locked, a heavy silence falling between you. This was exactly the kind of uncomfortable atmosphere you were dreading.

Panicking a little, you vaguely gestured towards the living room. ‘I should probably, y’know, mingle.’

‘Sure. I'll find you later though Lilypad, we gotta catch up some more.’

You gave him a warm smile and nodded, turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

The next couple of hours seemed to blur together. You made meaningless small-talk with people you barely knew, all the time just thinking about Bucky, about how quickly things had gone from fun and light-hearted to incredibly tense.

You just hoped you could get things back on a good track before you had to leave, losing him completely was the very last thing you wanted.  

Shuffling into the kitchen to grab yourself another drink, you noticed him duck out the back door. He must've hit his socialisation limit. The two of you used to reach that point around the same time at parties, so you'd slink out together and share a cheap cigarette.

Abandoning your freshly opened beer on the counter, you followed him out, finding him tucked away around the side of the house.

‘Right on time.’

His head snapped towards you, the cigarette almost falling from his mouth as he shot you a wide smile. ‘Am I that predictable?’

‘I just know you too well.’

You leant against the wall next to him, hugging your arms tight as you felt yourself start to shiver, cause you were the kind of idiot that went outside in December wearing short-sleeves. Bucky noticed straight away, letting out a gruff chuckle as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it round you.

‘That cushy city life has made you soft.’ He rubbed your arms a little, trying to warm you up, before eventually bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders and fixing his gaze to yours. ‘I'm really glad you're here, Lilypad. I've missed you.’

‘I've missed you too, Buck. I've missed a lot of things about this place.’

‘So why don’t you stay longer?’

‘Believe me, I was lucky to get this much time off.’

His eyes narrowed slightly, a concerned frown spreading over his face as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘Is everything alright? I haven't heard much about this job but so far it's pretty much been all negative.’

‘Oh, I do love it, honestly I-’

‘Why would you even try lying to me? You know I can always tell.’

You couldn’t help cracking a slight smile at his smug expression. He was right, the last time you’d managed to successfully lie to him was in first grade when you told him you didn’t know where his crayon sharpener had gone, knowing full well it was stashed in your pocket.

‘It's just a lot.’ You rubbed your forehead exasperatedly. ‘Apart from the few hours of sleep I get each night, I'm pretty much constantly working. You asked earlier if it was worth it and, to be honest, I really don’t know.’

He nodded faintly, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his foot, before opening his arms towards you.

‘C'mere.’

You didn't hesitate. Launching yourself towards him, you let him enclose you, squeezing your eyes shut and wrapping your arms around his neck.

‘You'll figure it out.’ He mumbled into your neck. ‘You always do.’

‘Thank you, Buck.’

After a minute or so, you both pulled away slightly, stopping when you came face to face. A lot of things about home had slipped your mind whilst you’d been away, but you’d never forgotten how gazing into Bucky’s piercing blue eyes made you feel. 

That feeling had never changed, and you were sure it never would.

You dropped your hands to rest on his shoulders, your eyebrows shooting up when you noticed how rock-hard they were. ‘Jesus, Buck. I’ve only been gone for two years, have you been at the gym that whole time?’

‘Nope, just been working hard at the garage.’ What absolute bullshit. ‘But feel free to keep the compliments coming.’

You smirked and feebly shoved him away, turning to head back inside but stopping suddenly before taking a step. ‘Oh, you better pick that cigarette butt up or my mom will go ape shit.’

‘Good call.’

You slipped through the back door, passing his jacket back when he followed you in. The two of you couldn’t have been out there for more than a few minutes, but it seemed as though the crowd inside had really started thinning out.

Bucky’s parents strolled over when they spotted him, informing him of their intent to leave pretty soon too, so he gave you a long hug goodbye and made you promise that you'd see each other again before the end of the holidays.

The two of you had parted on a good note, which was all you’d wanted going into the party, but now you found that you were pretty keen to squeeze as many more good notes out of these next few days as you could. 

It was probably best not to delve too deeply into the feelings behind that sentiment. So you didn’t. 

You helped your parents tidy up, your eyelids drooping as the exhaustion from a long day of travelling and socialising finally set in. Just as you were about to head upstairs, your mother piped up, using her expertly crafted trying to appear casual despite being really very invested in what I’m asking tone.

‘It must've been nice seeing Bucky again.’

‘Oh yeah, definitely.’

‘He must've changed quite a bit since you were here last.’

You chuckled to yourself. ‘Physically, yeah, but he's still the same goofy dumbass he's always been.’

‘It's always a treat when he pops round, he's such a nice boy.’ A suspicious eyebrow crept up your forehead. ‘And he's still single y'know, he hasn't-’

‘Alright. That's my cue to go to bed.’

Your dad strolled over and gave you a firm pat on the back. ‘Good idea, sweetheart. Get out while you still can.’

‘Thank you. It's nice having one sane parent.’

‘Although, I do have to say, he has been very good to us since-’

‘Dad!’ He raised his arms in surrender, using one hand to zip up his mouth. ‘Lord help me. Goodnight, crazies.’

You quickly escaped up the stairs. Stumbling into your room and pulling on your pyjamas, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows and letting out a long, exhausted sign.

As you drifted off to sleep, all the stress of the day melted away, leaving a single thought to echo around your mind.

You’d really overestimated how over Bucky you were.

---

Part 2

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Permanent Taglist: @nnuree @tcc-gizmachine​ @somewhatasoftbaddie @emmabarnes  @juenenfeu @linkpk88 @ddowii 

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---

[ventura-starlight]

line without a hook

A/N: hello my beautiful angels! This is based on a little funny story I had a little while ago. One day I was just scrolling and stumbled upon this absolutely adorable video. In the video, this lovely human named addie talks about a scenario she had while shifting. I fell in love with the idea and asked if I could write a fic based on it and she said yes!!! I really hope she enjoys this lol. If you’re reading this addie thank you so much and I hope this doesn’t completely suck :)

I’ll shut up now and let you all enjoy this. Remember to stay safe, wear your masks, drink some water, and enjoy yourselves. Love you!!!

**Addie’s tik tok: adrienneisntmyname**

Summary: what happens when you stay at the burrow for the first time? With the Weasley’s, chaos always ensues.

Warnings: none! just cute fluff I am pretty sure. I tried to keep it a general reader as well so If i messed that up let me know <3

*+.-°><°-.+*

It was the holidays at Hogwarts but all I could feel was bitterness. My family was on a trip during the holidays and I would be home alone throughout the whole break. With a long sigh, I sat next to my boyfriend of 6 months, George Weasley as he chatted with his twin Fred.

“What’s got you down sweetheart?” George said when he felt my presence next to him. I explained all that was going on. He knew how much I adored the holidays and could just see how upset I was. None of that helped the utter shock of what he said next, however. 

“Why don’t you come back with Fred and me for the holidays.” looking back between the twins with my eyes practically bulging out of my skull.

“I think you broke her Georgie” Fred chuckled at my shocked expression.

When George had asked me to stay at the burrow I was absolutely terrified. I mean this was the first time I would be at the burrow with his family. This was the first time I would meet his parents and be under the same roof as all the Weasley children. Still, I agreed, shaking with fear and excitement.

Terrified. Yeah, that was the perfect way to describe it. Absolutely terrified.

George knew how scared I was about the whole thing so when I got there he was outside the house with Fred waiting for me. He came up and grabbed my bags. He stopped outside the door and turned to me.

“Y/N I don’t want you to be afraid. It’s just my family and I know my parents are gonna love you. You already know some of my siblings and they seem to tolerate you so that’s lovely isn’t it?” he chuckled. Way to go George, way to make me even more nervous than before. Walking into the burrow was truly something magical. The warm smell of cinnamon and a warm fire filled my lungs, laughing and shouting rang through the house as Fred ran off to mess with Percy. Ginny smiled at me as she walked through, this being her wish for good luck. 

“Mum!!! Y/N is here!” a crash was heard from the kitchen and a loud shout from a feminine voice at George’s words. The infamous Molly Weasley came into the room, flour dusting the apron she was wearing and her face. Immediately I was trapped in a bear hug as Molly laughed

“Oh my goodness Y/N you are even more stunning the Georgie says! Are you sure you want him I mean he is a bit of a mess.” I laughed at George’s shocked expression.

“Mother you wound me!” He feigned hurt and put his hand over his heart, clutching the shirt he was wearing in his hands.

“Oh, Georgie don’t be so dramatic!” I laughed “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs.Weasley.” I finished turning to Molly.

“I will have none of that. Just call me mum sweetheart.” she smiled warmly “Go ahead and show her to Ginny’s room Georgie, let her settle in, and then you can come down and get acquainted with everyone.” George nodded at his mother’s words and picked up my bags and lead me upstairs. 

When we got upstairs and I started to get settles George grabbed my waist and pulled me into a hug. “Now was that so bad sweetheart?” I only chuckled and shook my head.

“No I suppose not, thank you for letting me come stay Georgie.” a kiss was placed on my forehead. 

“Don’t thank me Y/N. Besides, having you here gives Fred and me an alibi for the genius pranks we have planned against Percy.” he chuckled and pressed kisses all over my face. Laughs emitted from both of our throats as we fell onto the twin size mattress I would be sleeping on. I stopped for a second, taking a moment to stare at the man above me. His laughs calmed and he looked down and met my eyes. Moments flew by as we just stared at each other. George leaned in and gave me a passionate kiss. His lips were slightly chapped but still soft and sweet. I could spend hours kissing his lips, I probably would have.

“GINNY! Y/N AND GEORGE ARE MAKING OUT ON THE BED!” Fred cried. With that George and I jumped away from each other, blush coating our already flushed cheeks. This was the beginning of one of the best winters I had ever had.

~*~

I had woken up the next morning to laughing coming from downstairs. I sat up in the bed and stretched, hearing my bones crack loudly behind me. A cold shiver runs off my spine as I take a few breaths to try and assist in waking myself up. Waffles and other breakfast smells that I couldn’t identify with the only few minutes of consciousness circling through me. I trudged downstairs with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. The laughs only got louder as I continued down the stairs. Honestly, I wasn’t very worried about laughing. I was more worried about a cup of something warm and a nice breakfast. In the days leading up to coming to the burrow, Freddie talked nonstop about the food his mother would make during my stay. My stomach let out light rumbles as I reached the kitchen. Being greeted with warm rays of sunlight coming in the windows littered the walls of the room felt nice on the cold parts of my body, yet to have warmed up.

“Georgie I dunno if she will be very impressed with that.” George’s clenched his jaw at his brother’s words. I wasn’t really sure what he was doing so I tried to peer further into the kitchen. I knew if I went too far Molly would see me and ruin whatever the twins were working on.

“Fred I don’t really remember asking your opinion.” I heard Ginny laugh and saw her pass over a roll of tape to George. 

“Well, you don’t really have to worry about hiding your Uhm...bouquet from Y/N. Our sleeping beauty is awake.” Ginny pointed towards the door frame where I stood watching the scene. George hid whatever he was working on as Molly flew into the room

“Good Morning Y/N! I hope you slept well! Breakfast should be ready soon so make yourself something to drink. I have tea ready but if you prefer coffee we have that too or we ha-”

Fred cut her off mid-sentence “Mum I think she can make something just fine.” With a huff and a sarcastic glare, Molly wandered back into the kitchen. Mutters of “good mornings”  were heard from the Weasley siblings after Molly left the room. I wandered into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. When I looked back to George he was desperately taping together pieces of paper. A few of the cut pieces were stuck to a long piece of tape he was trying to cut. I walk back over to him and gaze at the look of concentration painted in his expression. Pink tongue stuck out slightly, eyes narrowing to focus on whatever he was working on.

“Are you trying to romance me?” I asked as he jumped. He took a breath as a deep red flush flooded his cheeks and reached his ears. Thank goodness (more for him) his the rest of the Weasley siblings were focused on their own conversations rather than our little exchange. He moved slightly, inadvertently showing the small army of paper flowers. His large hands gathered the roses in his hands, trying to make them into a makeshift bouquet. George handed them to me, scratching the back of his neck.

“Is it working?” He chuckled, still embarrassed. Some flowers were slightly askew, the tape being shown through the petals but it was perfect. Sure maybe they were a little messy but who cares? George made them and that was all that mattered. “I thought you might like them,” he continued “You always get sad when I get you flowers and they die, so I thought this might be a better option.” he smiled. 

“Your romancing is definitely working Georgie” I say, taking the roses from his hand. I trap him in a hug. “Thank you Georgie” He only chuckles and holds me tighter, kissing the top of my head.

“Anything for you Y/N” The sweet silence we shared as we swayed wasn’t one that was suffocating or awkward. It was more peaceful. No matter the loud crashes and stories surrounding us, it felt as though it was just the two of us.

“OH MY GOODNESS GEORGE IS BEING SOFT!” Fred cried, causing everyone’s attention to fall on us. Over the teasing and laughing that came from everyone in the Weasley family I had only one thought in my head. This was home. Home is with George, and no matter how chaotic, no matter how many sweet moments were ruined by his family, they were my family too. Now the only thing to do was to enjoy the rest of winter, something I figure wouldn’t be very hard to do.

*+.-°><°-.+*

@70swonderpoisonstark ​ @skyeisaprincess ​ @brianmydear ​ @casuallywriting ​ @fantasticnewtimagines ​ @silversslytherin @mercerss ​ @hunter-with-a-tardis ​ @ghullehh ​ @living-through-the-fictional ​ @fire-in-her-veinz ​ @regalillegal ​ @a-hopeless-fan ​

[hlizr50]

Bonus Chapter - Gwyn POV

So we had some technical difficulties, but here's the whole thing (copy/paste was not my friend).

Thanks for the fun @yazthebookish @daevastanner and @bookprofessor

Warm clouds of breath puffed out of Gwyn’s nose and mouth, drifting into the air – the only things obscuring the twinkling of frost-white stars.

She had been in the training ring for nearly three hours. Sleep hadn’t been an option, not even a consideration. The priestess had nearly worn her leathers under her robes to the service, knowing that the singing and celebration would open a crater so wide in her soul that she would take leave as soon as acceptable and retreat to the safety and solace of the frigid night air and sharpened steel. Gwyn scoffed, a hot bitter laugh that rose unbidden from her chest.

This night, the library was no sanctuary. It had been a stark reminder of her weakness, her failure.

Her guilt.

The only thing that had made her choose her usual camisole and leggings under her robes was the inevitable tongue-lashing she would have received from Merrill. Knowing the state she would be in, Gwyn wasn’t sure if she would burst into tears or jump to strangle the beautiful crone in a fit of rage and pain. Best not to test her luck.

She cupped her hands over her mouth and breathed into her palms before rubbing them together, willing the blood not to freeze in her fingertips before selecting a sword from the rack. She had spent extra time stretching to combat the cold air seeping into her muscles, kept in constant motion. Numbness threatened the ends of her fingers and the tip of her nose, but as a whole she was limber and warm. And so, weapon in hand, she turned to face her foe.

The ribbon.

She silently thanked the Mother for her competitiveness and hyperfixation on this goal, grateful for the distraction that it gave her from the glaring absence of her sister. The raw edges of that wound had begun healing in the two years and some months since the attack at Sangravah, but holidays always seemed to tear it wide open. This was the first time she’d had an outlet for her sorrow.

So she closed her eyes and breathed, centering herself in this moment, letting the grief fall away. All that remained was her, the sword, and the ribbon glowing silver in the moonlight.

“I am the rock against which the surf crashes,” she whispered, eyelids drifting open. “Nothing can break me.” Feeling herself balance, muscles thrumming with anticipation, she sliced the sword. And watched the ribbon wave, uncut, in the winter breeze. She groaned, but set her feet, took a breath, and swung again.

The ribbon simply glided over the blade, taunting her as it straightened. She felt a warm bubble of frustration begin to glow in her chest. Her lips tilted up in a grim smirk as she took her stance again, preparing to swipe the sword. But just as she lifted her arm the sound of boots softly hitting stone seemed to echo from the silent night behind her. The priestess spun to face…

Azriel?

Perhaps the warmth under her breastbone had not been frustration, after all.

“I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here, and –“

“It’s fine,” the shadowsinger answered coolly. “I came to retrieve something I forgot.” Gwyn regarded the shadows that were his constant companions. It almost seemed as if they were… looking at her? Was that even possible?

Perhaps the chill was seeping into her mind.

The priestess smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She lifted her arm, sword in hand, to gesture to the offending strand of silk. Hopefully the ribbon would heed the threat of the blade pointed blatantly at its length and behave.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked. Gwyn just shrugged, in spite of her frozen nose and fingertips.

“Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

Azriel nodded in silence, and for a moment his eyes caught hers. Something flickered there, like a match struck in a hurricane. Gwyn lowered her gaze. She could only imagine what the spymaster saw when he looked at her, the memories and images that might churn behind his hazel eyes. It had been he who had found her that night – nude, bloodied, trembling. Is that who he saw, even now?

Is that who he would always see?

“Happy Solstice,” she offered, an attempt to break the silence and to interrupt the path of her own rumination.

“Are you kicking me out?” Azriel snorted. Her eyes widened, gaze flashing back up to him.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just… I know you like to be alone.” Mother above, Gwyneth. Could you sound any more like a rambling fool? She let herself grin at him, and her own panicked musings. “Is that why you came up here?”

“I forgot something,” he reminded her.

The priestess fixed him with a skeptical eye. “At two in the morning?” She felt her grin widen with amusement, corners of her eyes crinkling.

“I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

Gwyn thanked the Mother for the ridiculousness of his words, lest she be completely unraveled by the crooked smile that he’d offered her. That smile, alone, was a gift. She knew that Azriel did not hand them out freely.

“A comfort for every growing child,” she remarked scathingly, and she swore he nearlyreleased a snicker. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did sleep with a dagger, or four. Actually, now that he mentioned it, she had absolutely no doubt that he did. Maybe he clutched one close to his chest, cuddling it like a teddy bear. “How was the party?”

One of his shadows broke away from him and twirled with the fog that her question had puffed into the air. Like a little dancing duet. She wondered what had prompted the shadow’s bravery.

“Fine.”

The shadowsinger definitely left some things to be desired as far as conversation went.

As if he realized that very thing, he tried again. “It was nice.” And that wasn’t much better. “Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes.” Though she couldn’t really call what she had done ‘celebrating’. “Though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.”

Again. His gift for words was astounding. But Gwyn took it as a challenge, to see just how far she could draw him out from behind the indifferent mask of the spymaster. So she tilted her head at him.

“Do you sing?”

Azriel blinked at her in surprise and she felt a small twinge of satisfaction in her chest. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I ama shadowsinger,” he corrected. “It’s not a title that someone just made up.”

Gwyn shrugged at him. Semantics, and beside the point. “Do you, though? Sing?”

“Yes,” he chuckled.

Oh, this was quite the development, and she had so many more questions! What was his favorite song? What kind of music did he prefer? The priestess wondered what his voice would sound like, if it would be just as velvety and smooth as it was when he spoke. She took a breath to ask if she could hear –

“Try cutting the ribbon again.” The abrupt redirection of the conversation was as clear a signal as there could be.

Another time, then.

“What – with you watching?” The shadowsinger nodded, and Gwyn felt her skin prickle with nervous anticipation. Which was silly. Azriel was present daily at training, and he had worked with her privately on multiple occasions. Maybe it was the holiday. Maybe it was the winter chill. Maybe it was her shattered heart, broken but healing, and the emptiness Catrin had left behind. Maybe it was the desperate hope that he saw more in her than the broken, bleeding girl he’d found in the temple two years ago. But that wholly undivided attention on her, in that moment, sparked something inside of her. So she took a breath, found her footing, and swung.

It was all she could do not to throw her head back and groan and the still-intact ribbon, gently swaying, taunting her under the stars.

“Again.”

Gwyn delivered another blow. She knew her technique was good – she was the definition of determined, a perfectionist. And yet…

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground.” Azriel pulled the Illyrian blade from the scabbard between his wings, shadows content to observe. The priestess also watched intently, determined to correct even the slightest error. She wanted to be the first to cut the ribbon. “Watch.”

He moved his arm slowly, mimicking her movements and rotating his wrist the same way that she had. The siphon on his hand seemed to glow in the moonlight, and she found her gaze sliding between his wrist and the pale scars that covered his fingers. It was far from the first time she had noticed them, but that didn’t keep her from wanting to know what had happened to cause them. But she had also noticed that he seemed to hide his hands as often as possible. Gwyn was not known for thinking before she spoke, but she knew that this particular conversation would come on Azriel’s terms. “You see how you open up right here?” He then shifted his wrist, correcting himself. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn mirrored the movement, slow and controlled, biting her bottom lip as she worked to correct her wrist position as her arm moved through the air. It took three times before she could do it without the error. “I blame Cassian for this,” she huffed. “He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.” She practically beamed at him, the dual achievement of correcting her swing and making the shadowsinger laugh lighting her veins with pride.

And then he dipped his head and shoulders, almost a bow. His goodbye.

“Happy Solstice,” he said before turning to head into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded before turning herself back to face the ribbon. She was eager to try to slice through it, after the impromptu lesson. But as she breathed in, a bone-deep weariness slumped her shoulders. Where earlier she had known that sleep would be an impossibility, now she felt calm. Almost at peace, the jagged wounds around her heart softened and comforted. The forced exhaustion and focus of training would have had something to do with that, of course. That had been her plan.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if the easy banter, the soft chuckles, and that crooked grin had been a balm to her soul, as well.

He hadn’t retrieved his ‘favorite dagger’. Hadn’t retrieved anything at all. But whatever it was that Azriel had intended to do in the training ring that night, their conversation and lesson had seemed enough for him to leave the ring calm and content – as far as she could discern. He had smiled. He had laughed.

She put the sword back in the rack, determined to remember what Azriel had taught her the next time she was in the ring. Looking up at the stars, she blew into her cupped hands and rubbed them together, encouraging warmth back into her frozen fingertips.

“Happy Solstice, Catrin,” she whispered, sending the cloud of her breath as a messenger into the heavens.

Her legs were heavy and barely able to carry her back to the dormitory, into her bed. She didn’t bother to remove the leathers, even though she knew she would regret it in the morning. All she could think about was sleep. And the sweet lullaby in her soul, a deep rich voice glowing blue and gold, swathing her in comfort and peace and hope.

[bellshells]

Nobody Can Know Part 3

Part three of nobody can know, I’ve actually split part three into two (maybe three) different parts. It was burgeoning on upwards of 35k words and I figured it’s too much in one post, so I’ll be posting what is now part four soon. Thank you for bearing with me whilst I got my shit together, and as always, I hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin Reader Warnings: Smut (start as we mean to go on amirite), Langauge, Alcohol, Smoking, Threat(?), Angst Summary: It all goes tits up lads, that’s all I’m going to say. Word Count: 11k+ Part One Part Four @alpha-cera 

“George,” You moaned, a new wave of sheer pleasure coursed through you and built deep in your stomach. The red head on top of you frowned, his brow furrowed; a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He continued his thrusts, each eliciting a smothered moan from your parted lips.

“Quiet, witch. You’re going to let the whole house know how well you’re being fucked.” George scolded, he placed a large hand over your mouth and quickened his pace. He filled every inch of you and yet you yearned for more. George flicked his hips against yours, gritting his teeth to suppress the moan that threatened to escape. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer, especially with the muggle vibrator fixed to your clit with the help of a sticking charm. You whined against George’s hand; you could taste the saltiness of his skin as you gazed up into the face of the person you loved most in the world. His eyes were half closed, and lips parted with a sigh that fell effortlessly from them, you overcome with love for him. George. He was yours and you were his.

  You hadn’t considered how much your life would change in the short time since you had arrived at The Burrow, how life in general would be different. You certainly hadn’t imagined going from the sprawling grounds of your family’s estate to a tiny flat above a joke shop in Diagon Alley. You weren’t there though, not tonight. Not in your flat which you had lovingly filled with books and exotic plants with a window seat big enough for two. No, you were in a single bed surrounded by wallpaper that peeled sadly from the walls and a faint muskiness from the heavy, moth-eaten curtains. Voices carried from beneath the floorboards of Grimmauld Place as the iron bedframe began to skid across the dusty floor. You knew you had had maybe ten or fifteen minutes before the meeting was the begin; so in true George fashion he had suggested you slip away, far up the creaky staircase to the very top of the house, where a dark attic room waited. It had been a struggle at first, manoeuvring the small space as George had tugged hungrily at your clothes. The bed was small, almost humorously so. It reminded you of your bed at Hogwarts, and how you had been shocked and a little impressed when Fred had told you he had managed to sneak Angelina into his dorm and they had shared his tiny bed. A few misplaced arms and a foot set firmly on the floor had allowed George to gain a delicious purchase of your frame, and he wasted no time in running his throbbing head against your slick folds.

  Your eyes widened as George’s hand slipped from your mouth and wrapped around your neck, he squeezed tightly, and your eyes rolled back in delight. You absolutely adored it when George was rough with you, you knew he was really enjoying himself if he was. Whilst you found yourself on fire with his gentle touches and caresses, you were utterly flung into the inferno when he grappled at your skin; when he spanked you and when he wrapped his hands around your throat. You tried to moan, you tried to let him know how he made you feel, to let him know you were about to come. All you could do was reach for him, your arms found his shoulders and you pressed your fingernails down into his flesh and tugged slightly, as if it were possible for him to get any closer. George understood and released his grip of your throat slightly, his sharp thrusts more erratic as he lowered his head to your ear.   “Are you going to come, little witch?” George breathed and you shuddered, his breath was hot on your skin and you could hear how strained his voice was; like he was merely waiting for your confirmation before he would find his own release. You couldn’t speak, how could you when George’s hand again squeezed your throat, tighter than before. You choked on the moan that tried to escape, George groaned at the sight. You managed a nod as your orgasm took you, it convulsed through your body; more intense than you had ever felt. George followed almost instantly, his body falling forward onto yours as if he were melting. Your legs trembled as the waved subsided, the weight of him on top of you pushed the vibrator even harder against your overstimulated clit. It didn’t appear thar George had noticed until you began to squirm beneath him, a whimper escaped you as the little bullet shaped object pleasantly painful, trundled you towards another orgasm. If you weren’t about to come for the second time, you would have laughed at George’s shocked expression. He blinked at you, once, twice and then a third time before he seemed to understand what was happening. A look of sheer elation seemed to illuminate his face and he pushed himself back until he sat on his heels, you whined at the loss of contact but without missing a beat, George pressed his hand against the vibrator and pressed hard. You gasped and your second orgasm erupted through you like needles under your skin, it was deliciously uncomfortable as you bucked your hips against the delightful buzz. George laughed almost incredulously as you rode out the second wave until finally, he muttered the un-stick charm and the little vibrator fell away.

  You were breathless and sweaty, the inside of your thighs coated with the evidence of your passion and George ran a hand through his unkempt hair. You couldn’t move, it was like your every appendage was made of lead and no matter how you tried, you couldn’t lift them.   “Such a shame we’re not going home tonight, (Y/N). I’d love to hear the pretty noises you’d make when I make you come over and over again with this.” George said breezily, he lifted the vibrator and dropped it onto the bed before pointing his wand at it and casting a quick Scourgify. You watched him lazily as he dressed, he was thinner than he used to be. He pulled his belt to the last but one hole and buckled it. You assumed it was the stress of the shop that had caused him to lose the weight, neither Fred nor George had anticipated how popular the shop was going to be when they opened. The first day alone had seen the twins more than triple what they had paid into the business and since then, George had barely had a day off. You didn’t mind though, not really, you enjoyed seeing him in his element with his brother. He whizzed around the shop like a tornado, his mind constantly ticking over what they could do to make things bigger and better. He had found a new confidence in himself, on those days that Fred wasn’t there, and he didn’t have to share the role of ‘Boss’, George was in charge. George excelled in it, and it was a dynamic that he had brought home with him into the bedroom, which you thoroughly enjoyed.

  George pulled his shirt over his head and tossed your knickers over to you.   “Are you coming downstairs?” He asked, you chewed on your lip. Did you want to go downstairs to sit outside of a meeting you weren’t welcome at? It was Sirius that didn’t trust you, you knew that, and it wasn’t something you necessarily lost sleep over; but it still bothered you the same. George told you everything that was said in the meetings anyway, so its not as if you were kept in the dark- but that wasn’t the point. Sirius was suspicious of you, coming from the family you did. The Weasley’s had spoken in your defence, even Harry and Hermione who had shown no interest toward you beforehand had tried to get Sirius on side. But he wouldn’t budge, and rather than forcing his hand in his own house, you had elected not to join The Order. It seemed to suit everybody that way, Sirius didn’t have to speak with you, but you were kept in the loop.   “Oi, are you even listening to me?” George waved his hand in front of your face. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment and you stood.   “Sorry love, I was just thinking.”   “About what?” He sat and watched you as you searched on the floor for your discarded items of clothing. You pushed your legs into your jeans and clasped your bra before pulling your shirt over your head.   “I might go home George, if we’re supposed to be leaving early tomorrow morning to meet everyone off the train anyway, I’d be halfway there if I went tonight.”   “Why do you want to go home? Are you okay?” He asked, concern flashed across his face as he rose to meet you. George took your face in his hands and brought his lips down to yours in a tender kiss.   “I’m fine, honestly I am. I just don’t fancy waiting around for however long for you lot to finish your meeting and then sleep here as well- I just, want my own bed. I’m really tired, I had a hellish shift in the shop today and I’m due on my period any minute now and-” George placed a finger on your lips to silence you. He frowned slightly, his hands fell to your shoulders and have then a squeeze.   “You don’t have to explain yourself, darling. I know you’ve been run ragged trying to get everything sorted in the shop for the holidays. Me and Fred can’t thank you enough for that, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He paused, he seemed to mull over his words before he took a breath. “Does this have anything to do with Sirius, (Y/N)? I promise you can tell me.”

  You shook your head and smiled. You weren’t lying to George, at least not completely. You did truly want to sleep in your own bed, although the flat was cramped; you had made it home.   “No love, I just want to go home. You stay here with Fred and everyone, I’ll meet you at the shop in the morning and we can have a late breakfast?” He seemed placated by that and offered a genuine smile.   “Definitely, maybe we could go into London and do a bit of Christmas shopping?”   “Sounds perfect, George.”   “Are you going to apparate straight to the flat?” He asked as you made your way from the attic and down the rickety stairs.   “I think I’ll pop into The Leaky Cauldron first, have a drink. I’ll see if I can convince Tom to let me take a bottle or two back to the flat for us.”   “Are you leaving, dear?” Molly’s voice carried over the cacophony of sounds as you arrived outside the kitchen. George offered your coat to you and held it as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. You nodded and accepted the warm hug she offered you, and revelled84 in the motherly affection.   “Yeah, I’m going home, see if I can get a decent night’s sleep for once without this one stealing all the covers.” You elbowed George in the ribs, and he rolled his eyes. George slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close to his chest. Molly smiled at the pair of you, she took your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.   “Are you still coming to the train station in the morning?” She asked. You nodded again and Molly beamed.   “We were just talking about going to do a bit of Christmas shopping after we’ve been to Kings Cross, as Fred’s in the shop. Would you like to come with us, Molly?”   “Oh no no, the way things are at the minute you two need to take full advantage of any and all moments you get together. Especially in that tiny flat of yours.” You nodded in agreement and made your way to the door, a figure stood out from behind the door to the sitting room, stopping you in your tracks.

  “Are you off, (Y/N)?” Sirius said blankly, his grey eyes bore into yours with an unsaid intensity.   “I am, thank you Sirius.” You refused to lower your gaze as the older man regarded you, you could see the corner of his lip quiver slightly almost upturning into a smirk. George appeared by your side and looked between you and Sirius; he cleared his throat.   “Right love, I’ll see you at the shop in the morning.” George said, his gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and opened the heavy door, waving at you until you reached the designated apparition point.  

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

The Leaky Cauldron was filled wall to wall with people as you stepped through the door. You were pleased to be out of the December chill, your hands already red with cold from your short walk. You scoured the crowd for a path to the bar and deftly avoided a few rogue elbows and spilled pints, as you fought your way through the throng of people and placing your order with a round-faced witch. You paid for your glass of wine and with a smile told her to keep the few sickles change. You found yourself smiling as you nestled yourself into a corner, the red wine was cheap and tasted tangy as you swallowed a big mouthful; but the warm glow you felt in your chest was welcome. It was nice to see the pub so full all things considered, there had been massive backlash towards the Ministry in their handling of the Dark Lord’s return and you wondered whether this threat would stop people going out and enjoying their lives, tonight, it appeared not.   “’Ello love, are you ‘ere by yourself?” You looked over your shoulder to see a portly man with a wide smile and flushed cheeks, his broad cockney accent was almost jarring. You managed to stop yourself rolling your eyes and offered him a curt smile. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days and a thick layer of dirt graced his face.   “No, I’m just waiting for someone.” You lied, you hoped that would be the end of the conversation, that he would take the hint and leave you to your wine. You just wanted a moment to yourself, to not have to think about the shop or the ever-impending threat of a potential Death Eater attack. You hadn’t really had a moment alone since you arrived at The Burrow all those months ago, you had left all remnants of your former life at Malfoy Manor and thrown yourself head first into anything to take your mind off what happened there. You hadn’t received a word from your parents, you didn’t expect to really, but that chance meeting you and George had had with Mr. Paris in a muggle restaurant was enough to make you shudder. You wondered if the Healers at St. Mungo’s had managed to get Mr. Paris’ two front teeth to grow back after George had punched them out of his head. Needless to say, that was a lovely restaurant that you were no longer welcome at.   “Me too. D’you want to wait together?” You had almost forgotten the stout man on your side, but his misguided determination in obtaining your attention was began to grate on you. He smiled a toothy grin and then coughed deeply, the teeth that remained in his mouth were yellow and as he coughed, he produced a stained handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth. You noticed the gold rings that adorned each finger of his hand, some of them looked to be encrusted with precious stones, but you doubted that very much. As his cough subsided, he cleared his throat and shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. He looked at you expectantly.   “No thank you, I’m sure they’ll be here any second now.” You lied again, you craned your neck in search for absolutely nobody and leaned up onto the balls of your feet. The man next to you followed suit, he tapped your arm.   “Is he over there? There’s a man coming down the stairs waving at you.” The man pointed across the room where sure enough the bottom of an old staircase was in view, and a man in the distance dressed in black held your gaze as he descended.   “Yes, that’s him! Thank you.” You said excitedly to the short man, you heard him chuntering behind you as once again you elbowed your way through the crowd, careful not to spill any of your wine. You smiled widely as you approached him.   “Professor!” You gushed, “How are you? It’s so nice to see you!” Professor Snape’s usually hard exterior softened as he regarded you, he offered his arm to you and you took it. He nestled your hand in the crook of his elbow and hastened away from the pulsing body of people.   “Miss (Y/L/N), you should not be here. It’s not safe.” Professor Snape whispered, he looked over his shoulder and you followed his gaze. You felt your body stiffen as you watched in detestation as Narcissa Malfoy approached where you stood, her repulsive husband quick on her heels.

  She was quick to disguise her shock as she saw you, Lucius merely sneered as he clasped Professor Snape on the shoulder and flounced away in a flurry of black cloth. Narcissa’s almost stoic expression faltered as you watched Lucius exit the pub, your eyes found hers as she frowned.   “Hello,” She said quietly, you stared back at her with a stony expression. You almost respected the nerve of the woman to talk to you after everything you endured at her house over the summer, you didn’t blink, you didn’t move.   “Goodnight, Narcissa. Merry Christmas.” Professor Snape said after a while, she broke her stare and nodded. She kissed Professor Snape on the cheek and made her way to the doors of the pub, you watched as she cast a look over her shoulder to you and with an obvious smile, she left.   “Come,” Professor Snape said gruffly, “Take my arm I shall apparate you home.”   “I only live up the road, Professor. I’ll walk.”   “Very well, I shall escort you.”

You walked in near silence with Professor Snape the short walk to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, you watched in amusement as the serious potions master gazed up at the giant automation head placed on the exterior of the shop removed his hat and positioned it back on his head in the dim light of Diagon Alley.   “Not ones for subtlety are they, the Weasley twins?” Professor Snape smirked; you shook your head with a chuckle.   “No, I can’t say they are.”   “Is this where you live?” He asked, you nodded and produced your wand from your bag.   “We live upstairs, the three of us.”   “Three?”   “Yeah, me, Fred and George. It’s…cosy.” Professor Snape hummed in agreement and took a step back.   “Professor?” You asked, he looked expectantly at you and you bit your lip. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for me at Malfoy Manor. I cannot ever repay you for your kindness, I am in your debt.” Professor Snape scowled at your emotion and took another step back.   “I was instructed to help you, Miss (Y/L/N). I did only as I was told to do.” He said somewhat unconvincingly, he averted his gaze and made to walk away. Instinctively, you reached your hand out and caught his sleeve.   “That may be the case Professor, but still, thank you.” You looked earnestly to his pale face; he shoulders slumped slightly.   “After I had received word as to what that oaf Paris had done…I did what I thought was right.” He stated, there was no over-sentimentality to his tone, like he was reading a shopping list. You decided not to press the matter further and turned toward the door to the shop.   “Professor,” You asked again, his eye roll was detectable regardless of the few feet of distance between you.   “What?” He snapped, his foot tapped impatiently on the cobbled stones.   “Why are you here? Term doesn’t finish until tomorrow. That’s not to say I’m not happy to see you, of course I-”   “I was unaware I had to run my schedule through you, Miss (Y/L/N).” Professor Snape quipped, if he tried to disguise the annoyance in his tone- he had done an extremely poor job of it.   “Of course, sorry.”   “If you must know, I arrived this afternoon. I had…business in London. Now go on, there’s only so much of your company I can stomach at one time.” You expected he was only being half serious, as his black eyes betrayed a slight softness and you smiled gently.   “Goodnight Professor, thank you for making sure I got home safely.”   “I’ll watch you inside.”

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

  “What do you think of this, Gin?” You held up a sparkly silver top to your chest and waited for Ginny’s verdict. Ginny turned to you with wide eyes, her expression frazzled.   “No, I preferred the second one.” She thrust a red velvet dress into your hands as she frantically searched the racks of clothes for the perfect Christmas dress.   “Where’s Hermione?” You enquired, you looked over your shoulder to where George, Ron and Harry all stood by the changing rooms, their arms heavy with shopping bags. You gave George a stiff smile, dismayed when he rolled his eyes and looked away. He had been acting strangely with you all morning since you met at the shop. He had barley said two words to you until everyone had stepped off the train. You were grateful that Ginny said she needed to do some shopping and the boys had decided to tag along. In truth, George was getting on your nerves. You could tell there was something bothering him and yet, every time you asked him about it- he refused to say. Eventually, you gave up asking.   “She’s at her parents’ for Christmas this year. She’s fallen out with Ron.” Ginny replied disinterestedly as she held up a green Bardot-necked jumper dress, “What do you reckon?”   “With your hair? Stunning.” You said with a smile. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief as she folded the dress over her arm and stepped passed you towards the till. You managed to grab the dress from her and slot it over yours.   “(Y/N) what are you doing?” Ginny said as she tried to grab her dress.   “Let me get your dress Ginny, as a Christmas present.” You pleaded, she deliberated for a moment before conceding and following you to the till.   “At least let me do something for you, (Y/N).” Ginny said as she passed Ron her newest bag. He took it without thinking and then screwed up his face and passed it to Harry.   “Tell you what, why don’t you come to the flat this week and we can have a girl’s night? I’m sure the boys can make themselves scarce for an evening, couldn’t you George?” George scoffed, you slipped your arm through his and he withdrew from you, putting his hand in his pocket;   “I’m not being chased out of my own flat by my sister. Are you lot going to Floo to mums from mine?” “Yeah, might as well. It’s only round the corner, isn’t it?” Harry agreed.

  You continued your way to Diagon Alley and through the buzz of the busy joke shop, you attempted to follow Ginny up the back stairs to your flat but realised George wasn’t behind you. Instead he was deep in conversation with a frantic looking Fred who was gesticulating wildly. Good, let Fred have a taste of what you’d received from George all day. You knew better than to get involved between the pair and arrived in to the flat just as Ron disappeared into the fireplace.   “See you!” You waved as he vanished in a ripple of green flames. Harry smiled and waved as he took Ron’s previously occupied place in the fireplace and followed suit to The Burrow. As he departed, Ginny stepped toward you and enveloped you in a hug.     “I’ll owl you about this week?”   “Definitely,” You answered, “We’ll get it sorted.” You watched as Ginny entered the fireplace and disappeared. Just as the flames died, the door of your flat swung open and George entered, slamming it shut behind him.   “Woah, what’s up?”   “Fucking Fred, he couldn’t organise a piss up in a brewery.” George muttered, he threw the shopping bags forcefully onto the floor and launched himself at the sofa, burying his head into the cushions.   “Bloody hell George, do you want to be a bit more dramatic?” You scowled and stalked over to the discarded shopping bags and picked them up, carefully checking to see if anything was broken. You took them into the small kitchen they weighed a tonne. You just about managed to hoist the bags onto the worktop and sighed from the exertion.  You were pleased with yourself, you had managed to find a few absolute bargains in London today which seldom never happened near Christmas. You had managed to buy nearly everything on your Christmas list; new baubles for the Christmas tree were the only thing left to buy. You had vehemently refused to let Fred design your Christmas decorations and instead saved the money you had earned from working in the shop to decorate the flat to your specific Christmas standards. You balled the carrier bags up and opened up a cupboard and shoved them deep inside as you placed the contents of the bags to display to George.   “George, come and have a look at what I’ve got today. Just the last few bits n-”    “And how much did this all cost?” He demanded; George; who was now stood hovering over your shopping looked furious as you jumped. You shook your head in shock, George had never spoken to you like that and you weren’t going to take it from him now.   “It’s Christmas, George. You buy presents for people at Christmas.”   “That’s all well and good when it’s not your money you’re spending.” George spat; your jaw dropped open for a split second before your face darkened.   “Are you taking the piss? You think I’ve been spending your money?”   “Well I don’t remember the last time you went to Gringotts, seeing as we do everything together.” He sneered and placed his hands on his hips. You offered him a sneer of your own.   “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awful all day.” You said, you moved across the tiny kitchen to where he stood.   “Merlin (Y/N), can’t I just be pissed off at you spending all the money? We don’t have much and between you and Fred we’re going to be out on our arses before New Year.” George’s voice was low and filled with spite. It took you by surprise, your normally lovely, cheerful boyfriend was replaced by this poison spitting man.   “Well I’ll tell you what George, you can take all this stuff that I’ve bought for your family with my money back to the shops and I’ll just fuck off, shall I?”   “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  You didn’t need to be told twice. You pushed past a seething George towards your bedroom and pointed your wand at your wardrobe and levitated your clothes into an open and waiting suitcase. It took longer than expected for George to appear in the doorway, but he did; arms folded across his chest. You were too angry to be upset, in that moment pure fury coursed through your veins as George’s accusations reverberated around your mind. How dare he talk to you like that? When your suitcase was packed, you locked it with a swish of your wand and pushed past George again, your shoulder made contact with his chest, but he didn’t flinch.   “Where are you going?” He asked with a bite in his tone.   “I don’t know. I’m fucking off, aren’t I?”   “Going to meet Snape again?” You were shocked at that. You turned slowly; George’s face was as red as his hair as he met your eyes slowly.   “Excuse me?”   “That’s where you went last night wasn’t it? You went to meet up with Snape.” Your brow furrowed as you tried to process what George was saying, he didn’t give you a chance to respond. “You were seen leaving the pub together looking very chummy, (Y/N).”   “I bumped into him in the pub and he walked me home.”   “Convenient.” George muttered.   “Why are you being a dick?” You demanded, your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand shook with rage.   “Why were you so desperate to leave Grimmauld Place?” He stepped closer to you, almost closing the distance. The heat radiated from him in waves, what was normally so intoxicating to you, you now found infuriating.   “I told you, I was tired and I wanted to be at home. Why would I want to stick around somewhere where I’m not wanted, George?”   “You have to understand how it looks (Y/N). You, leaving Order headquarters to go and meet up with Severus Snape.”   “Are you accusing me of being a Death Eater now?”   “Are you saying Snape’s a Death Eater?”   “No!”

George panted as he regarded you, his eyes wild. You could see the cogs of his brain ticking as he watched you.   “Then why were you with him?” He asked quietly. Your hands trembled with rage as you tried to calm yourself.   “I told you, he walked me home. Were you spying on me?” Your hand tensed around the handle of your suitcase, he said you were seen. Seen by who?   “Don’t need to, it’s not like nobody knows who you are.”   “What does that even mean? George, you’re not making any sense!” You exclaimed, you hated this. You wanted it to be over, you wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.   “Are you fucking him?” George eventually asked, his eyes narrowed into slits as he awaited your response. Unfortunately, he wasn’t to receive one.  

  You didn’t know where you were going. You couldn’t go back to The Burrow, not after the argument. The thought of having to explain to Molly what George had said to you made you feel sick. She had been so kind to you, and if George suspected you of foul play, it was almost certain that Molly already knew. You couldn’t go back to Grimmauld Place either, you weren’t sure if there would be any members of the Order there; and potentially being alone with Sirius was absolutely out of the question. You walked solemnly along the cobbled road away from the shop, your suitcase squeaked as it rolled across the uneven stones; the only sound in the eerily quiet of the early evening. You still hadn’t formulated a plan, not even when you ordered a coffee and tucked yourself away in a corner of The Leaky Cauldron. You knew Professor Snape had warned you against being there, but it was the only place you could feasibly go. You half hoped George would have followed you; that he would appear looking very ashamed and apologise for his words. But alas, as the night grew darker and more and more people arrived into the pub, it became painfully clear that he wasn’t coming. You were alone.

  You spied Tom talking to the witch who had served you the night before, she was beaming as she joked with her boss. She had such a kind face, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you watched her engage a few patrons in raucous conversation. She clearly enjoyed the attention; she threw her head back in laughter as though she didn’t have a care in the world. That must be nice. You stood and cast a sticking charm to your suitcase, ensuring it wouldn’t be stolen or tampered with and made your way to the bar. The young witch smiled brightly as you approached, her hand already extended for your empty coffee mug.   “Would you like another?” She asked, you shook your head as you tentatively placed your hands on the bar top. You instantly regretted it as, as soon as your hands touched the marked wood, they became incredibly sticky.   “No thank you, I am wondering whether you have any rooms available, though?” You asked as nonchalantly as you could, the young witch nodded.   “I’ll just go and check with Tom.” She disappeared through a door behind the bar and you stood patiently and waited, you glanced over your shoulder to where you had left your suitcase and saw the portly man from the night before eying it suspiciously. You watched him as he gave your suitcase a sly kick, and when he noticed it didn’t move an inch, tried an even more forceful one. You arched an eyebrow as his shoulders slumped in defeat.   “’Ello deary!” He called as he noticed you watching him. “Knew I’d bump into you again. Mundungus Fletcher.” He leaned forward and extended his hand to you and you shook it. You watched with delight as the man pulled his now sticky hand away and wiped it unsuccessfully on his pinstriped trousers. “’Ave to say, I was surprised to see a pretty young fing like you making off wiv Severus Snape last night. Never knew the old sod ‘ad it in ‘im!” You fought the scathing retort that threatened to fall off your tongue at the second insinuation of a sexual relationship with Professor Snape you had received within a few hours. You looked indignantly at Mundungus who snapped his fingers at the kind witch behind the bar. She rolled her eyes to you and began to serve him, as Tom followed slowly and approached you with an apologetic look.   “Are you after a room, miss?” He asked.   “Yes, anything you have is fine. It’s only for me.” You answered hurriedly, you produced your purse from the pocket of your coat and set it on the bar top.   “That’s just the thing miss, all our single rooms have gone what with it being so close to Christmas. The only thing I’ve got left it the Merlin Room. And it’s Fifty Galleons a night I’m afraid.” Fucking hell, that was a lot of money. Certainly, more than what you had in your purse. You chewed your lip as you opened up the black leather purse and scooped out the golden coins and placed them in Tom’s waiting hand.   “That should be Thirty there Tom, you keep hold of that and I’ll run to Gringotts for the rest now.”   “’Ow much is it, girl?” Mundungus called from your side.   “We’re short Twenty Galleons.” Tom answered plainly, his hand still outstretched. Mundungus reached deep into the pockets of his pinstripes and produced a load of gold pieces.   “Is tha’ enough, mate?” Mundungus replied, he dropped the coins into Tom’s hand before you could protest. You looked bewilderedly from the innkeeper to the grubby man, Tom closed his had around the coins like a Venus fly-trap around a fly and smiled.   “I’ll just fetch you the key, miss.”

  Your cheeks were hot as you turned to Mundungus, it was made all the worse when you realised how bloody pleased he seemed with himself.   “Thank you.” You managed curtly, “I was more than capable of walking to the bank and back though, Mr. Fletcher.”   “Jus’ fink of it as a bit’a human kindness. Remember it next time you see someone in a bind.”   “You don’t even know me. I could be anyone.” You replied, you were becoming increasingly annoyed by this man’s insistence in intruding in your life.   “That’s where you’re wrong miss, I knows all abou’ you.” He smiled what was probably intended as a sweet smile, but it sent a shiver down your spine; he was menacing, this man. You didn’t like being in his debt. “The banks’ closed now anyway.” He sniffed.   “Forgive me, Mr. Fletcher,” You began carefully, “I simply cannot allow myself to be in debt to you. Please let me pay you back immediately.” You waited for him to reply, your breath was coming short and you felt wildly out of your depth. You had seen both of your parents give people verbal lashings and negotiate alike, they made it seem so easy. You yourself had never been afraid of confrontation, but you were theirs then; you were known. You had the protection of your ancient family name- now, you were nobody. That frightened you. Mundungus laughed quietly, he brought his hand to his mouth as his laughter turned into a chesty cough. The stones in his rings glistened in the lamplight, his handkerchief even more stained than yesterday. He sighed when his cough stopped, a great, whisky scented sigh that permeated around your face. It took everything within your power to not wretch.   “’Fing is miss, I’m not sure you can give me what I’m after.” He said with a sneer, you outwardly cringed. His eyes travelled the length of you, glancing twice at your bosom. You fought the bile that rose in your throat.   “And what is it, that you’re after exactly, Mr. Fletcher?” You asked through gritted teeth. You watched as Mundungus sighed and leant casually against the bar. He looked over both shoulders before he leaned in to you, his face inches from yours.   “Information.” He breathed with his whisky breath; you couldn’t help but flinch.   “Information?” You repeated, Mundungus nodded. “What kind of information?”   “Y’see, I am a salesman as well as a collector, miss. I sells what I collects, and I collects what I sells. And wha’ I’m wanting to sell now, is your privacy, miss.” He whispered; his face even closer to you. You could feel his vile breath on your face as your eyes widened in shock.   “Goodnight, Mr. Fletcher.” You whispered as your face paled, you tried to move past him, but Mundungus caught hold of your sleeve and pulled your back flush to his torso.   “No, no no.” He muttered. “I knows who you are, miss. I knows all about you, I even knows your boyfriend, miss! One of those Weasley boys, ain’t it? One of those twins, I’m sure.” You whimpered as Mundungus fiddled with the hair at the nape of your neck.   “I don’t know what you’re talking about, please let me go.” You felt tears sting your eyes as Mundungus’ hold on you relaxed slightly. You lurched forward away from him in time to see Tom walk around the bar, room key in hand, a concerned look on his face.

  “Everything alright, miss?” Tom asked, he looked between you and Mundungus. Mundungus gestured to you and you nodded with a strained smile, Tom dropped the key into your hand and turned back the way he came. You made to follow him but Mundungus was quicker on his feet than you had anticipated, his hand on your shoulder in an instant. You desperately tried to think what exactly he was trying to extract from you.   “Now ‘ush miss, I don’t want no fuss.” Mundungus breathed, he patted your shoulder awkwardly and you trembled beneath him. “I’ll strike a deal wiv ya, ‘ow does that sound?”   “A deal? What kind of deal?”   “Good girl.” He smiled his yellow smile and gestured to the table where your almost forgotten suitcase still sat, stuck to the floor.   “You said you’ve got money?” Mundungus mused as he sat across from you, wand stealthily pointed at you from his sleeve. “’Ow much you talkin’?”   “About three hundred Galleons. In my savings.” You lied, there was about three hundred Galleons in the Gringotts vault you shared with George; but you still had access to your parents’ vault. You initially refused to take any money from it, but surely, they would have instructed the goblins to remove your access if they didn’t want you to use it. Besides, there was thousands upon thousands of Galleons in there. But Mundungus didn’t have to know that. You could see his face fall as he mulled over your words.   “Hmm. Right. Tell you wha’, I’m feeling nice tonight. You meet me ‘ere again tomorrow night, same time and bring me one-hundred-and-fifty Galleons. Wha’ I paid for you tonight, plus a little extra- for my trouble, and I won’t tell your boyfriend tha’ your fancy man is waiting for you over there.” Mundungus pointed towards the other side of the pub and as you searched through the crowd you saw him, Professor Snape sat silently by himself; his eyes burned into yours. Your cheeks flushed scarlet.   “Mr. Fletcher. Don’t be vile, Professor Snape and I don’t have any kind of relationship other than a strictly platonic one.”   “Tha’ don’t matter. One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”   “You’re trying to blackmail me. Why?” You demanded, you willed your voice not to betray your weakening resolve.   “A mans got to eat, miss. It is nearly Christmas after all.” Mundungus said cheerfully.   “But I haven’t done anything wrong.” You pleaded, desperate to understand what was happening, it seemed like a lifetime since you left the flat. You wondered if George was worried.   “You try tellin’ your fella that after I tell ‘im I seen you two nights in a row, up close and personal wiv Professor Snape.” He said with a shrug, so fucking nonchalant. “You might not know this about me, miss. But I’ve known Weasley’s for years, we go way back. They ‘ave no reason not to believe me. And I know wha’ I saw last night.”   “You didn’t see anything, you loathsome twit. Why would you interfere in my life like that?” You snapped; you were angry now you knew you weren’t in any immediate danger. He didn’t appear so frightening from the other side of the table, especially now you knew you were being watched. The horrid man didn’t even blink.   “People talk. One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.” Mundungus repeated, “Or I go I straight to Grimmauld Place right now and see who’s in. And you’d still owe me Twenty Galleons plus interest.” He offered you another grim smile as he pulled out his rotten handkerchief to dab at his brow. All this blackmail must be hard work for him. “’Fink of it as givin’ to the less fortunate at Christmas.”  “You’re vile.”   “One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”

  You nodded grimly at the repulsive man and stood slowly, you made your way across the busy room, suitcase in one hand and room key in the other. You slowed and stopped just parallel to where Professor Snape sat.   “I need to talk to you.” You muttered quietly, not looking in the potions master’s direction. “Not here.”   “Where?” He answered, his voice low and his attention seemingly elsewhere. You dropped your room key on the floor and as you bent to pick it up, you flashed the number in his direction. He gave a short, sharp nod and you walked away hurriedly, up the creaking staircase to your room.

******

  The room was to be expected. It was nicer than most of the rooms The Leaky Cauldron boasted, but still nothing compared to the luxuries you were used to. The bed at least, was large and there was a big-ish wardrobe. Nowhere worth the Fifty Galleons you had paid to stay though, you wished wholeheartedly that you hadn’t walked out of the flat. You wished you had just stayed at Grimmauld Place that night, none of this would have happened if you had. You tried to be angry at George, you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You even tried to be angry at Sirius for not trusting you, for making you feel so uncomfortable. It wasn’t any use, any resentment you harboured for Sirius Black had been shifted onto the revolting creature that was Mundungus Fletcher.

   You washed yourself thoroughly in the tiny shower of the Merlin Room, anxious to get any whisper of that horrid man from your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around how anybody could be so cruel, the only saving grace about the whole situation was that you finally knew how George had grown to be suspicious of you. If what Mundungus said was true, then he intercepted George that morning before you had met him and spilled poisoned seeds into the ear of your beloved with the intent of blackmailing you. What a hateful snake. But, on the other hand, you were disheartened at the thought of how quick George was to believe the tales of your supposed infidelity. With Professor Snape of all people, you couldn’t help but laugh sardonically at the idea that of all the men in the world, George thought the obvious choice for your unfaithfulness was Severus fucking Snape.

  You dressed quickly into your night clothes and pointed your wand at your hair, it dried instantly, and you tried to relax. You poured a large glass of wine from the bottle that sat invitingly on the bedside table. It was nicer than the wine they served behind the bar downstairs, and you welcomed it as it warmed you from your toes up. Your stomach rumbled, you hadn’t eaten anything since that morning and you began to feel fatigued, the effects of the day catching up with you. You wondered how long Professor Snape would make you wait; would he wait until everybody else left before creeping up the stairs to your room? It sounded so sordid, you thought. He certainly had to wait for Mundungus to leave before he made his move, else you would no doubt find yourself with an even bigger debt to settle. Merlin, you thought, if he were to wait for Mundungus to leave, you’ll be sat waiting until New Years Eve. You tried to busy yourself by searching the room, it was warmer than it looked. The stone walls projected an almost medieval atmosphere, but with the fire burning contentedly, you were satisfied that it could be considered quite cosy. The curtains were almost as moth-eaten as the ones in Grimmauld Place and nearly as old too, and you felt as uneasy in the room as you did in Grimmauld Place.

  It wasn’t long after you had settled sat on the bed was there a knock on the door. You scurried to it and opened it slightly, a sliver of light from the hallway encroached into your room and framed Professor Snape’s dark head as you granted him admittance. He closed the door swiftly behind him, but remained stood awkwardly, not quite able to meet your gaze. Instead, you pulled up two chairs by the fireplace. The wooden legs of the chairs scraped uneasily across the stone floor, but you persevered and gestured for your old professor to sit. You grabbed your wine and poured another into a glass for Professor Snape which he accepted tentatively.   “Thank you for coming.” You began as you sat in the chair opposite his, you tucked your legs under you in an attempt to be comfortable. It earned an arched eyebrow from Professor Snape.   “What did you want to talk about?” Professor Snape said, not wasting any time. You cleared your throat and took another sip of wine and your stomach grumbled again in protest; you ignored it.   “I’m being blackmailed by Mundungus Fletcher.” You replied plainly, no need to beat around the bush.  “Ah,” said Professor Snape, he brought his wine glass to lips and drank slowly. “I see. How much?”  “One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”   “Do you have it?” He asked, you nodded quickly. “Then I don’t see the issue.”   “The issue is that this concerns you, as well Professor.” You said quietly, your cheeks felt warm as his gaze scrutinised you. It was like being back at school.   “Please enlighten me, Miss (Y/L/N).”   “Mundungus Fletcher has told George that he suspects I’m having an affair, sir. He has told me to pay him the money by tomorrow evening, or he will tell George that what he suspects is true, that he’s seen it with his own eyes. The affair is supposedly with you, sir.” You winced and waited for Professor Snape to say something, anything; but he didn’t. He sat there, an ashen look on his already pale face as he took another tender sip of his wine.   “I shouldn’t be here.” Professor Snape stated finally, he wasn’t asking. You couldn’t help but nod, he was right. Under the circumstances, he absolutely shouldn’t be here, no matter how innocuous the meeting.   “Perhaps not,” You said quietly, “I don’t know what to do.”   “Well you’re certainly not going to pay the little cretin, that’s for sure,” Professor Snape said with a frown, “Allow me to deal with Mundungus.” Professor Snape titled his wine glass almost vertically as he drained what was left in his glass, you raised your eyebrows at his show but kept your mouth closed. Professor Snape stood and in two swift movements had opened the door and turned to you with a dark look.   “I shall return.” And with that, he closed the door behind him, in the near silence of your room you could still hear his footsteps on the stone floor as he walked away. You mulled over your situation for a few moments, swirling the contents of your glass sullenly. You were sick to the back teeth of being a hapless damsel in distress, yes, you had endured some questionable fates in your short adulthood; but this one seemed to border on the ridiculous. You hadn’t done anything wrong, not a single thing and yet you sat in a lonely room feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why? Why when you had no idea there were men as repugnant as Mundungus Fletcher out there who would create fantasies and try and profit from them? No more, you thought. Not this time.

  You stood quickly and instantly regretted the decision, your glass of wine had gone straight to your head on account of your empty stomach. You blinked and tried to refocus your vision, when you were satisfied you made your way to the wardrobe. Grasping your heavy winter cloak, you draped it around your shoulders and pulled the hood over your head covering your face, and made your way quietly out of the room. You had no idea what time it was, the pub was full now as you came down the stairs. A few patrons looked over in your direction as you weaved through the crowd, looking for any sign of Professor Snape or Mundungus Fletcher. There was none, you scoured every corner and came up short. You cursed under your breath and exited the pub; the wind whipped around your body and caused your hair to stand on end as you looked out into the near empty street now pitch black. There was a scuffling sound to your left, and then a crash as if something large and metal had been dropped.  You retrieved your wand and cast a nonverbal Lumos and followed the sound, you walked apprehensively down the alleyway behind The Leaky Cauldron, even with the light emanating from your wand, there was still much you couldn’t see. Wasn’t there an old adage about young witches walking down alleyways alone at night? You tried to push such thoughts from your mind as the sounds of scuffling increased, joined by hushed voices. You rounded a sharp corner into an even darker part of the alley, like a labyrinth of brick and mortar.   “Nox.” You whispered, you lowered your wand but your grip around it tightened, ready for whatever you might meet.

  “You disgusting, verminous cur-” You heard a deep voice, a snarl more than anything else. You continued your pursuit of the commotion and nearly gasped when you saw Professor Snape with his hand around Mundungus’ throat, his other hand pressed his wand into Mundungus’ cheek. You tried to make your body flush with the wall, trying desperately to disappear into the darkness. The sounds of Mundungus’ struggle were palpable now as you tried to steady your breathing.   “S-Sev..erus! Come on mate, let me go!” Mundungus managed, his hand splayed against the cold brick and Professor Snape pressed harder into Mundungus’ face with his wand. Mundungus spluttered in fear and Professor Snape growled and lowered his face close to Mundungus’ ear and you stepped forward slightly so as not to miss anything that was said.   “Did you think you could get away with intimidating a young woman?” Professor Snape spat, “Not only that, a Slytherin born into one of the oldest families in Britain?” He paused and Mundungus flinched, you wondered if Professor Snape had tightened his hold of Mundungus’ throat as a line of spittle had appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I would like to believe you are not that dense, Mundungus, and yet here we are.”   “I saw an…opportunity Severus…you knows wha’ it’s like,” Mundungus struggled to get his words out, his voice was thin with strain. “She’s got loads’a money, she won’ miss a’undred or so Galleons!”   “That may be true, but you have no right to play with the poor girl. And how much were you going to charge her tomorrow as interest for your silence?” Mundungus was quiet then as Professor Snape finished speaking. The bastard! Hatred began to build within you as you watched Mundungus try to nod.   “Alrigh’, Severus. Please.”

  Professor Snape removed his hand slowly from Mundungus’ throat and took a step back, his wand still aimed directly at Mundungus’ face. Mundungus bent over and coughed, he rubbed his neck and breathed deeply.   “Come.” Professor Snape snapped, he prodded his wand against Mundungus’ shoulder and pointed down the alleyway, in the direction where you stood.   “Fucks sake, Severus. Where are we going?” Mundungus whined. Professor Snape snarled and resumed his close proximity to the stout man.   “We’re going to pay the Weasley’s a visit, you and me.” He snarled and panic flashed across Mundungus’ face.   “Wha’? Now?” Mundungus asked incredulously, “It’s the middle of the nigh’!”   “Precisely, it should all be fresh in your mind shouldn’t it?” Mundungus sighed and straightened his moth-eaten jacket.   “She still owes me Twenty Galleons for the room though.” The dirty man stated indignantly, Severus snarled, and, in a flash, his dark clothed arm swung, and the clatter of coins echoed across the alley. Mundungus scrabbled to the floor to retrieve the coins and Professor Snape laughed without humour.   “Here.” He ordered and Mundungus flitted to your professor’s side submissively. He took hold of Mundungus’ arm and apparated out of the alley.

  You exhaled sharply and pulled your hood back from your face. Could it be that easy, really? In a matter of minutes Professor Snape had once again come to your aid with no talk of thanks, and it troubled you. You walked slowly back to The Leaky Cauldron and sluggishly made your way back to your room.

**********

  You hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep until a faint knock on the door woke you. You opened your bleary eyes and ran a hand across them, yawning widely as you opened the door. A rather tired looking Professor Snape stood before you, arms folded, and a scowl adorned his face.   “I’ve been knocking for what felt like years.” He said grumpily as he followed you into the room. You yawned again and sat in the armchair you had previously occupied earlier in the evening, Professor Snape followed suit.   “Sorry, I must have dozed off.” You said quietly, you were suddenly extremely anxious to find out what Professor Snape had to say. Rather than reporting to you what transpired in the hours he had been gone; he closed his eyes. You stared rather dumbfounded as his hands that he had clasped in his lap fell apart. Was he asleep? Of all the fucking ways you thought your day was going to go, staying in The Leaky Cauldron with Professor Snape asleep in your armchair was definitely not in the top one hundred. You chewed your lip deliberating what to do. Realistically, you should wake him. He would be mortified when he awoke to find he had fallen asleep in your room, but there was something in the peaceful rising and falling of his chest that stopped you. You hadn’t really looked at him before then, but you noticed the dark circles around his eyes and how gaunt his face looked. Yes, he was always bony but at that moment in time, he looked ill. You sighed and fetched your cloak which still held the chill from your excursion outside and pulled it over Professor Snape and tucked it under his chin.

  You climbed uneasily into bed and pulled the cover tight to your chest, willing sleep to come. Professor Snape snored lightly in his chair and you covered your mouth to suppress the giggle that threatened to escape. This bordered on some of the more absurd things that had happened to you and you lamented as to how you had reached this point. You must have stared at the ceiling for hours, at least it felt like hours, birds chirped happily outside of the window and finally, you felt your eyelids become heavy.

  When you awoke, the room was full of light. The curtains were drawn back and the fire roared in its place.   “Good morning.” At the sound of Professor Snape’s voice you almost jumped out of your skin, your heart thundered against your chest and you flung your hands over your eyes. He was stood behind the chair he had fallen asleep in, but the small table was filled with food.   “Fuck!” You exclaimed as you clutched your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”   “Yes, I have that effect on people.” Professor Snape mused, a small smirk on his face. You stared at him for a moment, just a fleeting moment, a smile crept to your lips.   “Sleep well?” You asked, feeling instantly full of glee as a tiny blush inched over Professor Snape’s cheeks. He averted his gaze and gestured to the table laden with pastries and meats, but most importantly, coffee. You stomach betrayed your hunger as a mortifyingly loud rumble echoed throughout the room. You groaned and got out of bed; the cold floor made your feet tingle as you padded over to the table. You shoved half a croissant into your mouth and moaned as the buttery, flaky goodness melted there. Professor Snape cleared his throat. You shot him an apologetic look and continued devouring the treat. Picking up a mug of piping hot coffee you sat in the armchair and hooked your legs underneath you. Professor Snape joined you with a mug of his own and took a great gulp, sighing as he rested the mug on his thigh.   “I didn’t know they did breakfast here.” You said after a brief silence, the coffee was delicious, strong and sweet; exactly the way you liked it.   “They don’t, I went home when I woke up this morning and brought this here.” He said as he stared intently into the fire.   “You made me breakfast?” You enquired, rather taken aback at this act of kindness.   “I made myself breakfast, I just happened to make enough for you as well.” He said flatly, you rolled your eyes into your coffee but decided not to press the matter further. “I spoke to George last night.” Your ears pricked at the mention of George, you sat up straight eager for Professor Snape to continue. “Well, I should say Mundungus spoke to George last night. I was simply there to…supervise.” A sly smile tugged at his lips as he drank again from his mug.   “And?” You pressed, you wished you could have been there to see what happened. How George reacted, what he would have thought to Mundungus and Severus Snape knocking at his door at Merlin-knows what time. “Was he at the flat?” You asked.   “No, he has joined his family at The Burrow. We went to Grimmauld Place first and Shacklebolt told me where he was.”

  George had gone to The Burrow? Probably to tell his family all about your fight. Your stomach turned at the memory of how you had spoken to each other, of how he had doubted you.   “Needless to say, everything has been thoroughly put right. Mundungus Fletcher won’t be bothering you again.” He continued. You sighed a breath of relief, it was sorted. Everything was sorted. But why didn’t you feel better?   “I’m really sorry, Professor. Yet again you have been dragged into my dramas.” You said wistfully, you meant it too. Professor Snape has shown you such kindness when he had no obligation to, it was endearing.   “Shut up. I have a reputation to maintain. I will not allow my name to be dragged through any licentious plots, real or fabricated by a common street thief.” Professor Snape said, an edge of bitterness twinged his words. You felt you understood. It was not right for him, a man eighteen years your senior- your old professor no less, to be embroiled in any scandal with an ex student, no matter how innocent it might be. You offered him a small nod and watched as he took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, he gave you a cursory glance before he asked; “Do you mind?”

  You shook your head, and he placed a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. With a flick of his wand, the window flew open and the chilly December air flowed into the room, eliciting a shiver from you. You watched him as he took a long drag, the smoke twirled in beautiful shapes above his head before disappearing into nothing.   “I wonder what you think of me, sir. You must think I’m a mess.” You smiled sadly; he lifted a hand to stop you.   “On the contrary, I think you’re doing rather well given the circumstances.” He paused to take another drag of his cigarette. You placed your coffee mug on the floor and wrapped your arms around your body against the chill. “I’m returning to Hogwarts for the Christmas break. My business is finished in London, and I detest being here so my house will be empty. If you have need of somewhere to go.” You eyed him suspiciously. He stared blankly at you, as if he had just asked you the time.   “You’re offering me your house?”   “You may stay in my house whilst I am away. I understand you are short of options at this time.” You shook your head; it was all a bit much. Had you saved Professor Snape from a terrible fate in a previous life or something?   “Professor,” You faltered, your breath came quickly. “Why are you doing all this for me? I can’t imagine you go to this much trouble for all your old students?”   “Don’t be ungrateful.” He chastised, he tossed his cigarette into the fire and it roared in acceptance. He sat straight in his chair and leaned forward. “It may come as a shock to you, but not everyone means you harm, (Y/N).”

  That was the first time he had used your given name.   “I just don’t understand why-”   “If you don’t want my help, then I shall take my leave.”   “No!” You said, “No. Stay, please. Sorry, I’m just…struggling, I suppose. Everything seems to be happening a million miles a minute and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” You felt tears sting in the corners of your eyes. “I am so appreciative of you, sir. You have done more than my own family would have done. Thank you.”   “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Professor Snape muttered under his breath, you could have enquired further, but decided not to.   “So, how did you leave things last night? With George?”   “Well, obviously he felt very foolish. He was absolutely incensed with Mundungus, I feared for his safety at one point. He said he would seek you out at some time today.”   “…Oh.”   “He wanted to come last night, but Molly intervened. Said you’d probably relish the time alone.”

  Which you did, well you would have done, if you were alone. Your heart leaped at the idea of seeing George soon, but just as quick as your excitement grew, it was extinguished by a feeling of disquiet. George had said some really hateful things to you, he had been so quick to assume you had slighted him and refused to see reason when you challenged him. You had never thought that George could be like that, it made you uneasy.   “This displeases you?” Professor Snape said, his voice twinged with amusement. “I thought you’d be climbing the walls with excitement.” You ignored his dig and walked slowly to the window; it was really very cold now. You watched as people meandered from shop to shop, children laughed full of Christmas cheer. You smiled sadly as you watched them, that was you once. Your father would hoist you onto his shoulders and you would race down the streets of Diagon Alley, singing songs and laughing. This was to be your first Christmas without them, your parents. And whilst they had hurt you beyond measure, you found in that moment you missed them terribly, even your cold and indifferent mother. She would have a glass or two of sherry on Christmas night and invite you to sit at her feet as she stroked your hair. But that part of your life was well and truly over with now, a memory to be forgotten in time. A part of you that was dead, and nobody mourned. Sad really, wasn’t it?

“I am going to leave now, (Y/N). Thank you for letting me sleep. I’ve been so tired, I’ve got so much to do I- well, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” Professor Snape said from his chair behind you. “I’m travelling back to Hogwarts today.”   “Have a safe journey.” You replied, you made your way across the room and offered your hand to Professor Snape to shake. He arched an eyebrow in amusement and took your hand, he shook it roughly. He nodded once and left. Alone, absolutely, definitely alone. Turmoil, absolute, definite turmoil. You hadn’t noticed Professor Snape had slipped a piece of parchment into your hand until it dropped to the floor, you picked it up inquisitively.

65 Spinner’s End, Cokeworth. If you have need, you need only knock.

Severus

*********

  Your suitcase trundled behind you sarcastically as snowflakes drifted aimlessly to the ground. You snatched your cloak tight around your chest as you cursed yourself for not packing a pair of gloves. The Burrow was quiet, you could tell from the stillness of the garden. There was usually a creature of some sort causing absolute chaos in the hedgerows, but not today. You steeled yourself against the wind as you approached the front door, you could hear voices on the other side; not the usual calamitous laughing but a stillness you hadn’t expected. You knocked once and pushed the door open; it was warm and the heat stung as it hit your near frozen cheeks. Fred was the first one to spot you as you removed your cloak from your shoulders and hung it delicately onto a peg by the front door, careful not to get anything wet. He moved towards you and took a cold hand and gave it a squeeze before he said;   “He’s in the kitchen.”

  Indeed, he was, George stared absently out of the kitchen window, mug of tea in hand. He didn’t hear you as you came in, you took a seat at the table and waited. It must have been minutes before he turned around, you weren’t sure if George was aware there was someone staring into the back of his head or whether he had run out of tea, but nevertheless, he turned. A multitude of emotions flashed over his face as he regarded you, you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as you stared up into the face of the one person you loved more than anything in the world.   “(Y/N),” George whispered, “I’ve missed you.”   “I think we should talk, George.”  

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 22. Trembling

A/N: So I'm not much for writing young Snape romantically - I much prefer the older one - but I got a little idea for a story and I wanted to try it out. I hope I managed to do the idea in my head some sort of justice and that you all enjoy it <3

Setting: Hogwarts, the day before leaving for the holidays

Pairing: Snape x Reader (both in their seventh year at Hogwarts)

ABBR.: │ (y/n) - Your Name │ (y/l/n) - Your Last Name │

Word count: 3248

Warnings: Harsh Language, Angst, Fluff, Bullying

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Prologue: You have been in love with Severus for nearly two years now, but he had seemed oblivious to you and each time you had tried to befriend him, or even talk to him, he had been nearly cruel in his words as he pushed you away in all manners possible. But you were resilient and would not quit bugging him in your efforts to catch his attention. But, even you had a limit to what you could take and you were balancing on it after such a long time of giving it your best effort to get him to allow you into his life; and hopefully heart.

He was soaked. You heard the laughter and the snickering as he stood absolutely still in pure shock while water drenched him, soaked his clothes and flattened his long black hair. Your heart skipped a beat as tears sprung to your eyes as you stood halfway up the stairs watching him below you. Those fucking Marauders! They're so damn cruel! As that thought ran through your head you heard the howling laughter of those exact people.

Your head whipped around, your eyes instantly locked on James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Lily. They stood on the staircase just above Severus; Sirius and James each held a bucket each that had obviously been filled with the water that had been dumped over Severus. You were fuming, your fists clenched at your sides as you watched them laugh. Except for Lily, she just sneered at Severus with a tired look. How can she just fucking stand there? How cold can a person be? At least the other idiots claim their actions and their ugly sides... But she, you were fuming as your eyes shoot figurative bolts of lightning at the girl who was one of the reasons Severus had not accepted your requests at being friends - or even on speaking terms. You knew that. You knew how he looked at her, and damn it hurt.  

"Oy, Snivellus, feeling a bit cleaner?" James laughed out with a high five from Sirius who howled with laughter. Remus chuckled, Peter looked happy and Lily seemed to care more about her nails than the scene that was unfurling in front of her. You clenched your jaw as your eyes switched view and landed on Severus who was still standing absolutely still as water pooled around his feet. Your heart clenched at the sight of him, your stomach twisted and you started to tremble with fuming, glowing, boiling rage. It coursed through your every fibre as your hand unclenched and reached for your wand.

It all happened so fast. Your actions fuelled by the dooming rage that pulsed through you as you directed the tip of your wand towards the idiots one floor up and in the next instant they were soaking wet as a fountain of water spewed from your wand. Fuelled by your raging emotions. Silence fell as the sound of water took over. It only took a single moment to drench them all - and a few bystanders. But they had laughed too so why the heck not?

"(y/l/n)! NO-!" Severus screamed and it pulled you out of the pounding emotions that that locked you in your stance as water finally stopped spewing from your wand. You were panting, your hand and wand trembled as you shook from your own shocking action. You had never done anything like that before. Seven years at Hogwarts and I, I lose control now-?! You thought as your hand lowered while the Marauders were still coughing and trying to get up of the floor as the water had truly flown out of your wand like a wave and crashed into them with force.

You turned your head towards Severus who gawked at you. Except for the sloshing of wet clothes and some coughing, the silence was as thick as morning fog. He looked at you, shocked and perhaps taken aback from your actions. For a moment you were just frozen in place as the realisation hit you. You had stooped to their level. You had retaliated - rather splendidly as well might you add.

But the look Severus gave you wasn't a happy one, it wasn't thankful or grateful. He looked horrified and it broke your heart. Tears sprung to your eyes and in an instant, your legs began moving. You hurled yourself down the stairs as students started to whisper and point. You passed Severus in a rush, unable to look at anyone as you tried to keep the tears from falling freely. As you tried to keep your heart in one piece in your chest.

You barrelled your way through corridor after corridor until you got to the courtyard at the back. You flung yourself through the doors as the faint echo of your name being called reached you. But you ran. Ran and cried. Stumbled and sobbed. Somehow, you ended up at the Whomping Willow at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest. You stopped outside of its reach as you heaved for air. Your lungs burned as your cheeks turned wet from tears.

You tried to force air into your lungs, tried to confine the emotions that raged through you like the crashing of waves on a stormy sea seeking to devour all ships. To sink all things and snatch them from the light, clutch them in the deep dark of eternal night. Just, breath, breath, maybe he-, maybe he doesn't hate- no, that look... A sharp pain shot through you, it echoed through your soul as the look on Severus's face flashed before your inner eye.

You sobbed and snivelled as you tried to wipe away the salty tears. Your legs were shaking and your hands still trembled. Your chest felt too tight, yet it could have caved in on itself at the same time from the hollow feeling. How was that even possible? Could you break so badly you turned hollow?

A twig snapped, your head whipped around as Severus called out your name with a hoars voice. as if he had been screaming for a long time. Your eyes widened as he appeared at the top of the hill a little ways away from you. "Leave me alone!" you screamed at him with a broken voice as you were still crying. He started to run towards you on those long slender legs. "(y/n), you-" "Leave me alone!" you screamed again as you started to step backwards. As you tried to increase the distance he so hastily shortened.

"(Y/N), DON'T-" he screamed and you saw that horrible expression of horror again in his eyes and it hit you with such force you stumbled from the recent memory in the Entrance Hall. You were just about to fall when your breath was knocked out of you as something hard hit your back so harshly you landed face forward in the cold snow with a thud. You lost your bearing as your head had taken quite a hit against the ground. The tiny layer of snow did nothing to dampen the blow.

"(Y/N)! RUN!" Severus screamed as you tried to lift yourself up of the ground. What the- but you had no more time to think as a large tree branch slammed itself down right next to you. Missing you by merely the width of a wand. You tried to force air into your lungs after the previous harsh blow as your head spun and your back protested against any movement you tried to force your body to do. Severus shouted at you to move, run, get away - but you couldn't get up.

"MOVE!" he screamed and you rolled away just in time before another branch slammed down where you had laid a mere second earlier. You managed to get up in a crawling position and threw yourself forward with all your strength. You were nearly, nearly out of reach for the damn tree as it slammed its branches down again. The tip of one struck your foot and the force of the blow made you scream out in pain as Severus grabbed your hands and pulled you away from the tree with such force you landed on top of him.

You both laid panting on the wet, cold ground as the tree straightened and stopped flinging its branches around. You tried to catch your breath as Severus held onto you. You barely realized it at first but once your mind became aware of him beneath you, his arms around your waist, his face so close to your own... Your breath hitched, you tensed and you flung yourself off him so fast you had to scramble to find your own limbs in the flailing mess you were.

You managed to get up, somehow, as he rose elegantly despite his long limbs. Your heart hammered as he looked at you. Your mouth went dry as the memory of his horror-filled eyes from earlier flashed by as he still had a slight look of horror etched in those onyx galaxies that were his eyes. You couldn't bear to look at him when he wore that expression you knew came from anger at you, or perhaps even hatred at what you had done. It made no sense that he would be angry with you for defending him but you still saw it, felt it. It couldn't be anything else when his eyes wore such an expression.

You turned around as you hugged yourself. Your back ached, your body shook and you felt fresh tears as they leaked from your eyes. You sobbed as some form of reality hit you that you had fucked up and now, he would never allow you to be close to him. Perhaps now he wouldn't just dismiss you but effectively shut you out... You shivered as the thoughts of his hatred and rejection ran through you.

"Are you cold?" Severus asked and his voice frightened you so you jumped slightly as it came from such close proximity. You twisted your head at the same time only to find him mere inches from you. You froze. Never had he been so close before as he had been that day. Before it was unintentional but now, he had stood himself right by you.

"(y/n), are you cold?" he asked again as you couldn't make a sound. All you could think of, all you could feel, was your pounding heart and his beautiful eyes paired with the long black hair that screamed for you to reach out and run your fingers through it. But you didn't, of course, you didn't do that. But you wanted to, oh by Merlin how you wanted to touch those silky strands. but you merely looked at him as your body vibrated from the shivers as you were without any proper attire to be outside in such cold temperatures.  

In the next moment, it was like you realised he spoke to you, realised he was so close, realised he had followed you - called for you and basically saved you from the deadly tree. You took a step back from him as uncertainty crawled through you. How angry was he with you? Did he hate you now? Was that what his eyes were screaming at you? You hadn't a clue and it freaked you out immensely. You felt your face turn pale - from the thoughts, the worry, but also the physical pain you were in as the tree had landed two harsh blows on you.

"Why did you do that?" he asked and his words surprised you, he sounded angry, or perhaps exasperated - you couldn't quite tell as his voice was so damn deep it thundered out of his mouth no matter what he said. "I-, I-" But you found no words. You had never confessed your feelings to him, you had only ever dared hope to perhaps befriend him. Why would he, excellent as he was, be interested in you? You weren't anything special or fancy, nor were you excellent as he was. You were, quite frankly, just you.

He raised a brow slightly at you and a blush crept in as you folded your eyes towards the ground. His was just too deep, too wide, to hexing to look into any longer. You feared you would drown if you kept staring into them as they swirled with black stardust. "You shouldn't have done that," he murmured on a small sigh and you lowered your head as your shoulders shot up towards your ears. "I'm sorry, I, I just wanted to- I couldn't just stand by and watch. They're, they're horrendous..." Your voice was low yet you managed to squeeze out the words through the lump that had formed in your throat.

"They are, you shouldn't have butted in (y/n), you should have just let it-"  You whipped up your head with a glare towards him. Suddenly quite angry with him instead. "You shouldn't be treated like that! You shouldn't have to deal with shit like that!" you shouted as he stared at you, "It's not fair! They treat you worse than garbage! I can't- I can't stand it! I can't just look, I can't just stand by and let them torment the one I love-" Your hand covered your mouth instantly without even finishing your sentence.

You stared at him with wide eyes as he did the same at you. Your words felt heavy in the air as your body stiffened, prepared to run for the hills if need be. "You- you what?" Severus stuttered out and your face turned scarlet as he gawked at you. His eyes impossibly large and the usual pale skin a tad flushed. You couldn't help how your heart pounded, how your body trembled and shook - how your entire being screamed at you to run as if your life depended on it. But you were utterly frozen. Your boots stuck to the ground. Your shoulders stiff while your legs felt like jelly.

Well, that's one way to fucking do it, you thought as reality started to entwine with that fantasy world of yours. Just, perhaps not in the way you had wanted it to as Severus yet again looked horrified, or maybe disgusted, you couldn't quite be sure. It was difficult to tell what went on inside of him but it appeared to be negative, whatever it was.

You let your hand fall away from your mouth, it limply landed beside your body as if something just left you, some will or power perhaps. Something, hope or perhaps a dream. "I love you," you whispered as tears once again welled in your eyes, "I love you and I'm sorry to disgust you like that." You exhaled as the tears started to fall. It was over. Your fantasy world where you were by his side, loved by him, came crashing down as if it were an avalanche set on tumbling down a mountainside. You crumbled along with it. As good as buried beneath its weight, as good as dead as your hollow chest felt as if it had truly caved in on itself.

You turned from him, your body felt as if it were not your own. You felt naked in reality; stripped of that one piece of a dream you had held on to for dear life for such a long time. You started to walk away from him only to be held back by slim fingers wrapped around your wrist. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes landed right at his swirling galaxies of onyx and black stardust that looked intently yet harshly on you.

"I told you to stay away," he growled, you nodded, "I told you to ignore me," he continued and you nodded once more. He sighed, deeply. "I told you, over and over, not to butt in." You nodded once more as you wiped away tears from your cheeks with your free hand. The wind swiped over you and tossed about his black hair as you shivered from its frozen fangs that nibbled at you through the thin clothes you wore.

He tugged on your arm, you stumbled a step towards him. When you looked up he glared down at you. "I told you," he hissed, "to stay, away." In the next instant, his lips smashed against yours. Harshly. It took you a moment to realise what happened and then his lips were gone as you gawked at him. "I told you, to stay, away. I told you so many damn times (y/n). So, many, times," he hissed as his arms snaked around you. You looked at him, confused. Yet your body, it seemed to know what to do. As if it were second nature to be close to him. As if the stars had aligned and the world was righted when he was in your embrace and you in his.

His lips pressed against yours again and this time your fingers snared themselves in his hair as you kissed him back. It felt as if life were breathed into you. As if some of the endless universe that swirled inside of him filled the hollow in your chest and leaked out to fill your entire being. "I told you," he grumbled against your lips, "because I knew you couldn't stay out of it if you knew..." He left your lips at the last word as you were both panting. You just stared at him, all your thoughts were trying to make sense of what was happening. Have I been killed by that damn tree and gone to heaven?

His cold fingers stroked away some hairs from your forehead before his lips landed softly where his fingers had just touched you gently. "I knew you couldn't stay out of it, so I needed you to stay away from me. Then, you'd be safe," he whispered as his voice vibrated over you. A darkness curled around the sound, claws stroked your soul as gently as any feather could have.

"What, do you mean?" you breathed out as it was hard to get air down in your lungs when you were so close to him.  He looked down at you. The onyx eyes, the hooked nose, the thin lips and the defined jaw. The black curtains of hair that framed his thin face - it was all pure perfection for you. "I mean, you would be in the line of fire if you were with me. And that," he said with a kiss between your eyebrows, "is unacceptable. As, I love you."  

Your heart nearly stopped. Your knees nearly gave out beneath you. Your lungs barely remembered how to function. But your lips, they functioned properly as they were slammed on top of his as you pressed yourself into the caring young man who enveloped you in the warmest of embraces. Your fingers snaked between the strands of his hair as his hands held your hips gently yet firmly. I must have died and gone to heaven, you thought as the taste and smell of him overtook you. As you both trembled from cold and heat, from fear and passion - from joy.  

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Tags: @lizlil @snapefiction  @morphineisouthoney​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @snapefiction​ @monstreviolet  @meteoritewolf69

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[Dec:2020]

[gryffindors-weasley]

Relighting A Flame // Part Two

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After meeting with Ron, things change between you.

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving and guilt, break ups, brief anxiety, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This is the second and final part, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my lovely Soph @loony-loopy-lupinn for helping me out with this one 🧡

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker!)

It was a perfectly sunny Thursday afternoon, almost too perfect in comparison to the way you felt in the current moment. The nerves bubbled away in your stomach as you approach Rosa Lee Teabag, and you were strongly considering turning in the other direction and high-tailing it out of there. But you didn’t, you took a deep breath and you carried on forward through the busy and winding walkway.

The little bell over the small door had rung out when you entered the little shop, and you almost winced at the attention it pulled to you. More specifically the redhead who’s eyes were now on you as a blush stains your cheeks.

“Hey,” you greet with a soft smile when you approach, spotting a steaming cup of tea already waiting at your seat. The familiar scent of lemon was immediate and so was the widening of your smile at the simple gesture. “You remembered?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks stain a rosy crimson. “I did.”

You nod as you take a seat across from him, a quiet settling over you both in the crowded little cafe. It was terribly awkward and you hated it, you wanted desperately for things to go back to how they were.

“Thank—”

“I just—”

You spoke at the same time, cheeks reddening deeper as you laugh softly, gesturing for him to go on. He chuckles, taking a deep breath as if to gather himself for what he’d wanted to say. Though he’s not quite sure which to say, he’s got a million things on his mind.

“I’ve never been in here before, have you?” He asks, taking a sip of his tea.

He was skirting around what he’d really wanted to say, that much was obvious. You knew Ron Weasley well enough to know when he was avoiding something, but you let it go for the time being in favor of answering his question.

“I’ve been in here a handful of times. It’s a nice little place, especially on a rainy day. Though I have to say, I do like Madam Puddifoot a bit more,” you say, your smile returning.

“Harry said that place is horrid on Valentine’s Day, he’s quite insistent on that,” he says, meeting your gaze and matching your grin.

You laugh softly, nodding at his words as you look away for a moment. “Her choice in decorations may be a bit over the top—well they definitely are, but she can make a remarkable cup of tea. And her desserts are really good too. You’d like it.”

He nods, picking at the napkin as he fights to think of something to say next, anything to avoid the obvious that was waiting to be spoken about. But the lack of conversation was becoming increasingly apparent, and he can only busy himself by looking around the small shop for so long without looking like a fool.

When the laughter and light conversation had died down between you both, you resorted to stirring your spoon around in your drink. You tried to ignore the fact that your heart was still beating wildly, and tried focusing more on your intricate little teacup and it’s matching saucer. At the impossibly delicate and hand-painted flowers adoring it. It felt as though you were on a first date, though the more you thought about it, you were quite sure not even that could match this very moment.

“Y/n,” he started, much less humor in his voice. You look up, his smile having long since faded by now. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow slightly, wordlessly telling him to continue on.

“For pushing you away, I mean,” he says, looking down at his cooling drink as the very tips of his ears burn redder than the hair that covered them. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. You were only trying to be there for me and I shut you out.”

You slumped a bit in your seat, your expression softening as you looked at him. When you opened your mouth to speak he held up his hand, a silent gesture to tell you he wasn’t quite finished.

“Losing Fred, losing my home, I—I mean…I don’t know. I almost lost you in that bloody war. It was too much to deal with everything all at once...not that I had to deal with you, that’s not what I meant,” He stammers, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I know what you mean, Ron,” you say with a soft smile, reassuring him only slightly. “It’s okay.”

He could tell by your faltering smile that it absolutely was not okay, that you were hurting regardless of his reasons. You were just about as discreet with your emotions as he was, and the pang that struck his heart hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.

You weren’t angry with him, his reasons were perfectly valid. But missing your best friend for six years, someone you deemed to be the love of your life, was one of the hardest things you could have been through. It was quite like how you missed him when he’d begun to date Lavender Brown; you couldn’t bear to be around him, for you were far too hurt and too in love to subject yourself to witness their affections. You couldn’t blame her, she was a girl love, but the very way you missed your best friend had left you miserable. So, it was a similar feeling but different all the same.

“Bloody hell, this was way easier in my head,” he chuckles humorlessly, looking out the window. Anything was easier to look at than the look on your face, he felt he might crumble if he looked at your frown a moment longer. “I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t love you, or that I didn’t care. Because I did, I still do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You nod even though he didn’t see it and you watch the way his jaw tenses, his gaze bouncing around the scenery just outside the window as he tears another piece off his napkin. The silence was thick and all-consuming, not even the conversations and clinking of dishes and silverware around you could help it. You fumbled with a packet of sugar pinch between your fingers, a million different words sitting on the very tip of your tongue.

“I’m sorry too, you know,” you manage, swallowing thickly as his gaze returns to you in a narrowed stare while yours remains on your hands for a minute longer.

“Y/n, don’t.”

“I left, Ron. I...I feel just as guilty as you.”

You look in his eyes again, biting the inside of your cheek in a valiant attempt to keep your tears at bay. You wouldn’t go into specifics on just why you had eventually left, it wouldn’t be fair to him. It’d only make him feel worse when it had been your choice to do so in the first place. You could have stayed, he wouldn’t have isolated himself forever. But it’d hurt too much and that was something you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“If I hadn’t been so distant you wouldn’t have needed to. It really is my fault,” he said, and you could see he’d started to get worked up.

“Ron.”

You offer him a pleading look in hopes he’d calm down, for any more anger towards oneself was not necessary for either of you. There had been enough of that in the past few years to last a lifetime. He settled down after a moment or two, a small yet sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he nods.

The following minutes were silent and almost the rest of the time spent there for that matter, and it was much less awkward though the tension was still very much there. But conversation had ceased nevertheless, and it was more so a quiet agreement to enjoy the other’s company even if neither of you would admit it. Company you found yourself needed more than you could have imagined. It certainly hadn’t gone how you had expected it to go, whether it be a good or bad kind of unexpected, you weren’t sure. But sitting there with him hadn’t felt as miserable or awkward as it may have looked from an outsiders viewpoint. It was a mutual feeling that maybe things would be okay after this, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

8 Months Later

Eight months had passed since you’d gotten that tea with Ron, and things had changed drastically since that day. There was plenty more that had gotten sorted through, and plenty more lengthier talks were had in order to clear things up and move forward. It hadn’t been remotely easy at first, but Ron Weasley wasn’t someone you could stay mad at, he never was. He may have been stubborn but he cared deeply for you, that much was certain. It had taken a good month or two for things to feel somewhat how they used to or at least as best as they could, but everything good happens in time, you suppose.

You’d spend more and more of your free time with each other, until any and all of that free time had been taken up. He’d given in to your suggestions of going to Madam Puddifoot’s, and he did in fact love her pastries just like you thought he would, even though he would never admit it. You were a month away from completing your training as a healer, and he’d graciously offered to help, though he’d helped more than intended with the handful of quidditch accidents he’d gotten himself into at home. Perhaps the most notable was the way you still missed him, the way he’d missed you. It was an adjustment being friends once more, but friends were better than strangers.

Currently, it was the long awaited spring holiday at Hogwarts for students and professors, one that delightfully coincided with your time off of work. Therefore, you’d bought up a handful of books from Flourish and Blotts, and accompanied Ron for a week at the Burrow. 

The first time you had been at the family home wasn’t unlike every other visit you’d had, much to your surprise. Despite not having seen any of the Weasley’s for a considerable amount of time, it felt as if it’d been just yesterday that you’d seen them. They welcomed you with near suffocating hugs to make up for what surely would have been millions of embraces, and they had swept you away into about ten different conversations at once. It felt as though no time at all had passed, as if you hadn’t been separated from the welcoming family for just over half a decade.

It was a relief to your relentless nerves that they hadn’t held any animosity towards you for leaving. That very guilt had been weighing you down the moment you had made that decision. But you suppose it would be rather hard for the Weasley family to think ill of most anyone; they were wonderful, more love in their hearts than anything.

You had spent the better part of the warm spring day in a spot you and Ron had declared your own the very moment you had found it as teens. It was perfect. It was nestled within a clearing of trees and foliage, a small body of water settled in the very midst of it all. This time of year, the wildflowers were in full bloom to douse the area in its colorful floral beauty. Birds chirped and sang high up in the trees, the sun’s golden rays weaving in and out of old and twisting branches. The trees were perhaps your favorite part. They were older than you could imagine, covered in winding vines and moss that swirled up their trunks, their knotted roots perfect for nestling in with a good book. That is exactly how you’d been spending your afternoon.

It was a place that housed many fond memories amongst you and the Weasley family, and you were overjoyed to be able to take in its beauty again.

“Are you going to read all day?” Ron complains, mouth nearly full with a bite of his sandwich.

“You know, I just might now that you mention it,” you jest, laughing as you watch him let his head fall forward, his hair dangling out of his face and sticking every which way.

“It’s almost sunset and you’ve spoken what, three sentences to me? Three, Y/n,” he complains, huffing out a sigh as he narrows his eyes at you playfully. 

You peer over the edge of your book to see the sky was in fact filling with orange and pink hues the more it’d dipped down into the horizon, effectively dissolving your argument against his words. You sigh softly, folding the corner of your page and tucking your book away.

“You’re a pain. Have I ever told you that?”

“Yes, Y/n, you have,” he says, his attempts to sound displeased quickly failing as a smile pulls at his lips. 

“And rightfully so.”

You rest your head back against the tree, gazing up at the expanse above you. A flock of birds had been flying high overhead, the breeze blowing gently over your face. His scoff at your words was well heard beside you as you let your eyes fall closed, a soft laugh leaving your lips at the way he’d been acting. In your moment of bliss you’d missed quite a lot, his attention settling on you once more while he had the chance to do as such.

The hair tangling with his lashes and tickling his skin was of no importance in that very moment, nor was the fact that the very tree root he’d been leaning his hand on was poking into his palm rather uncomfortably. You were too enchanting to care about much else. You always had a way of stealing his attention yet still being so blissfully unaware of it. Perhaps that was for the better that you weren’t privy to his admiring, perhaps sometimes he found himself wishing you weren’t.

He wanted to reach out and brush the stubborn strands of hair out of your face, tucking them away behind your ear. He’d done it countless times before. It was awfully hard for him to enjoy the beauteous world around him when he’s got you sitting before him, making even the most enamoring of sunsets pale in comparison to you.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you move to stand to your feet, and he just barely manages to tear his eyes from you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t felt him staring, you could always feel it, you had caught him gawking plenty of times and each ended with incredulous scoffs and awkward laughs. Regardless, you chose not to say anything, the pink staining his cheeks enough of an indication.

You leave his side and walk to the waters edge, dipping your feet in as you hear him sigh behind you softly. You smile to yourself, laughing quietly at the thought of him.

“What are you doing?” He calls out, and you turn to face him, finding him squinting against the evening sun as he stood to his feet.

“Enjoying the water, not reading. What’s it look like?” You quip with a raised brow and a smirk.

The water wasn’t quite as enjoyable as it may have been in the summer season, it still had a brisk coldness that nipped at your skin too much to fully swim in it. Though that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun. 

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, so much so that you had to turn away from him before it became much too evident that you had been up to something. Unfortunately for you, Ron was rather observant and had caught on to such things fairly quickly, but not quick enough.

You crouch down and stick your hand in the cool water, drawing up a considerable wave to splash him with. His mouth fell agape at the near icy shock of your antics, a laugh leaving your lips that soon turned to a squeal as you took a few steps back from him. The very same mischief had begun to dance in his eyes as he dipped both hands in the water, scooping out a much larger handful before sending it cascading over your skin.

“Ronald Weasley, that was way more than I did!” You shout, his laughter immediate at your reaction. 

“Was not!”

Your frown hadn’t lasted very long as you bit back your smile. He looked away as he continued with his soft laughter, shaking his head. It wasn’t long before you too had found yourself staring, it was hard not to with the way water droplets had been falling from his hair and rolling down the bridge of his freckled nose. More so when those very droplets had dripped over the curves of his lips in a way that was almost too irresistible. You had to look away before you got yourself in trouble, instead focusing your attention on the way the stars had begun to twinkle just above you both.

It was perhaps your favorite time of day, for it was when the sky held the most color, and when the world had started to slow down. Any cloud that hung in the sky was pigmented with the prettiest oranges and pinks, and the fireflies were starting to make their reappearance with the warmer weather. The crickets began to chirp and the breeze had blown across the overgrown grass.

Unbeknownst to you, Ron had picked up where you left off, his eyes falling to you when yours return to the setting sun. You looked radiant to him, with the way your hair glimmered in the glowing orange hues, or the way your smile had been brighter and more enamoring than the very view before you both. He found himself admiring you as a friend that was too in love for his own good once more, the same way he did when he was a teenager. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted to be yours. He wanted to tell you he loved you because he’s never stopped, he didn’t want to blow it this time as he’d done once before.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You say. You pull your attention back to him after a few silent moments had passed without response.

“Yeah,” he smiles, and it was clear he’d been far too busy looking at you. “It is.”

You grin at him before shaking your head fondly, exhaling a laugh at his distracted words, unaware of the nerves fluttering around within him. He was always too caught up with you too pay attention to seemingly anything when you were around.

“Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?” Ron asks, swallowing thickly as he lets his hands fall to his sides.

You look up then, the look on his face filled with hope and the underlying regret of even speaking in the first place, fearing he may have messed things up by being too bold for his own good. The seconds had quickly felt like hours and he felt like he may just melt if his cheeks burned any redder. Regardless of his obvious inner turmoil, you find yourself smiling softly as you shake your head.

“No, I don’t think it is.”

He stood there, stunned as his eyes widen a fraction. He wasn’t entirely sure if he’d heard you correctly, or if he’d just conjured up the answer he so desperately craved to hear. The very thought was one he found himself playing in his mind ever since the day you had gone your separate ways, and now that it’s here he doesn’t quite know what to do. Doesn’t quite know how to handle himself around you; it’s as if it’s his first time ever seeing you, like a bout of new love came cascading over him and became all that he had known. Except it wasn’t new. It had been the same undying love he’d felt for you for the past nine years, and that was something that would never change.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You ask with a soft smile after a few short moments, effectively pulling him from his thoughts.

His mouth opened and closed, his heart pounding in his chest as a smile tugged at the very corners of his mouth. And with all of the certainty in the world he enveloped your hand in his own and closed any remaining space, his hand settling on your cheek as the tips of his fingers tangle in your hair.

It was a kiss to rival all others, even the very first kiss he’d ever shared with you. For he’d had six years to make up for, of thinking of this very moment, of missing you. He held you as close as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest as he began to smile.

You were just short of breathless when you part, not straying more than a few inches from his lips as a soft laugh escapes you. You look at him, at the love dancing in his eyes and drop of water that fell from the very tip of his nose, or the ones beaded on his flushed cheeks. It was only mere seconds before you found yourself kissing him again, and again, your laughter mingling with his as his lips brush over your own.

Six years had regrettably passed him by, years that equated to lifetimes without having you with him. Your hold on his heart never faltered in that time, however, not even a little bit. The truth is, you’ve entwined yourself around his very heart and soul.

Those three words didn’t need to be spoken, they were already known. And there wasn’t a single risk he’d take of losing you once more.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @theweasleysredhair

[cakesunflower]

Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 6

A/N: this one’s kinda longer than the previous parts, which is fine given that i haven’t updated in a hot minute. happy reading!!

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

           There wasn’t a schedule the students and teachers were meant to follow while at Big Bear Mountain. The group of students were divided up into three sections according to the bus they arrived in and were the responsibility of the two teachers they had come with. So Odessa and Calum were in charge of some thirty-odd students, giving the students their phone numbers to check in with them every few hours during the weekend. For the most part, the students were free to do as they pleased on the resort; the only thing they must do was meet with everyone for dinner later on that night and for breakfast on Saturday morning as well as Sunday before they left to go back home.

           After making sure the students in her and Calum’s charge were gone to their rooms to take the time to settle in, Odessa went to her own. She tried not to think of Calum’s room right across the hall from hers, instead focused on putting her toiletries bag in the bathroom and bringing out the coat she’d borrowed from Sierra. Even getting off the bus and walking to the lobby of the hotel allowed Odessa to feel the cool temperature of the area, and mentally thanked Sierra for the coat she knew she’d be wearing all weekend long.

           She didn’t really see the point in unpacking, knowing they’d be there only until Sunday, so she rested her suitcase on the table meant for it by the window before peering out. Her room provided her with a beautiful view of a lake, catching sight of the snowy slopes not too far away that she knew the students were excited to take advantage of. Apparently, many of her Los Angeles students knew how to ski and-or snowboard. Odessa didn’t know how to do either, so she was going to take advantage of the small shopping center village their hotel was located right next to—a walking distance—as well as a heated indoor pool and other amenities that didn’t involve skis or snowboards.

           She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she’d spent it relaxing on the comfortable bed, reading the texts that came through of students in the group chat informing her and Calum of where they were heading to. It wasn’t until Odessa made sure every student in their charge had checked in that she decided to leave the room. In the mood to walk around to grow familiar with her surroundings, Odessa put on some warmer clothing, chuckling softly as she caught sight of the red beanie Grams had knitted for her. The woman was a whiz with those knitting needles.

           After dressing warmly, Odessa grabbed her purse and left the room, boots padding softly on the carpeted hall as she headed towards the elevators. She stepped into the empty lift, and just as the doors began sliding shut, a hand shot through to keep it from closing, startling Odessa. Her gasp seemed too loud in the small space, widened eyes watching as the doors slid open once more, only to reveal Calum standing on the other side. Of course.

           His dark eyes met her blue, and he offered a small smile as he stepped inside, looking warm in a hoodie under his coat, a grey beanie of his own covering his blonde hair. Odessa pressed her teeth together. She absolutely hated how awkward things were, knew it was her fault, knew she had the power in changing it. The doors slid shut and Odessa stared at their blurred reflections against the doors, Calum standing tall next to her, the silence in the limited space damn near suffocating as she picked at her nails, hands buried in the pockets of her coat.

           Surprisingly, Calum broke the silence. “Where you headed?”

           Odessa glanced at him, but Calum was checking something on his phone, conveniently avoiding her gaze. Was that for her benefit or his? “Uh, just checking out the little village,” she told him.

           “Oh, me too.” She bit the inside of her cheek as he added, “There’s this café I’ve heard about, supposed to be really good. D’you wanna check it out?”

           She looked at him once more, chest tightening at the hopeful look he wore in his eyes. The stubborn—read: stupid—part of her wanted to reject Calum’s offer, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Distance was one thing, blatantly ignoring a friend was another, and Odessa didn’t want to be that person. She was already annoyed with herself for treating Calum the way she was—through no fault of his own, only hers and her incapability of figuring out her feelings because she always let others influence her.

           “Sure.” Her answered seemed to surprise him and Odessa fought the urge to swallow. How sad was it that Calum was actually taken aback at her agreement of joining him for something? She pushed herself, “Some company would be nice.”

           Ironic, coming from her. Odessa was just glad Calum was kind enough not to call her out for it.

           The elevator stopped, doors sliding open, and Calum held his arm out and gestured for Odessa to step out first. He followed after her and Odessa zipped up the jacket as the cold greeted them as soon as they left the hotel. There was a large, wide round-about in front of the hotel, one road leading towards the freeway their busses had come from and the other leading right to the village of shops they could see from where they stood.

           There were people all around, a few Odessa recognized as students from their school, and she and Calum continued down the path leading right into the village. It was more like a pedestrian street with short one, maybe two, story buildings on either side, going on for miles, consisting of boutiques, restaurants, smaller cafes, and other kinds of stores. As they walked down the path, Odessa couldn’t help but feel as though she stepped into some kind of Hallmark Christmas movie, everyone around her dressed warmly to fend off the cold, a low hum of chatter in the air that was quieter than what she was used to on the streets in Los Angeles.

           It almost reminded her of her small hometown in Nevada, nearly bringing her that same semblance of a calming peace.

           “Is this better than being in the city?” Odessa bit the tip of her tongue, startled at how Calum seemed to read her mind.

           She glanced up at him, noting that he was just looking ahead as they walked, sunlight shining on them from above the short buildings on either side of the path. Odessa took a breath, hands in the pockets of her jacket as she responded slowly, “Yeah, I guess. It’s a lot less. . . Hectic.”

           “Do you miss your hometown? In Nevada?” Calum asked. Odessa refrained from frowning at him. She was positive they’d had this conversation before, and Calum wasn’t the kind to forget details about others. Was he just trying to make useless small talk? Had her stupid efforts of putting distance between them worked a little too well in making things awkward between them?

           Odessa kept her gaze ahead, rolling her lower lip into her mouth. This felt strange. Wrong. Being with and talking to Calum had always been so easy, from the moment she had met him. Whatever tension existed between them, it was her fault. She had to fix it. “Not as much as I thought I would,” she answered truthfully. “I grew up in Ely but. . . There’s nothing there for me anymore. I miss my students, sure. But my mom’s always flying around, my grandparents are here, and so are my friends.” Odessa glanced at her feet, feeling a small fond smile curl at her lips. “Los Angeles isn’t so bad.”

           “Yeah,” Calum hummed as they continued along. Someone whizzed by them on a bike, and Odessa was caught in the gust of wind they left behind. Damn, wasn’t it cold enough? “I’m glad it’s goin’ well for you, Odessa. I really am.”

           She glanced up at him, catching the small yet genuine smile he flashed her way. Her heart clenched, feeling the guilt of pushing him away once again resurface. Odessa knew, in that moment, this particular guilt was a lot stronger than when she had felt it for feeling as though she was betraying Paige. Harsh as it may sound, Paige wasn’t someone Odessa could, or had to, betray. They weren’t friends, no matter how they painted the picture. It was about time Odessa came to proper terms with it.

           They reached the café Calum had been talking about, and Odessa smiled as he held the door open for her. The inside of the café was warm, a somewhat busy, smelling like fresh sandwiches and coffee as the hostess greeted them with a smile and ushered them over to a table by the window right away. They sat across from one another as Odessa shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the back of her chair as the hostess handed them the menus before wandering off.

           Odessa took the menu, not really reading what was on it because her attention was on the man sitting across from her. She peeked up from her menu, and maybe it was too warm in the cafe because Calum took off his beanie, running his hands through his short blonde hair, and Odessa noticed the darker roots growing in. Still, he looked good. Unsurprisingly.

           She looked back down at the menu just as Calum asked, “Is your mom visiting for the holidays?”

           He was trying to make conversation, Odessa knew, and the least she could do was keep it up. “Yeah,” she answered, feeling a small smile tug at her lips. “Bringing her boyfriend for us to meet, too.” Her mom hadn’t been able to make it for Thanksgiving, which would’ve been sad if Odessa particularly cared about the holiday, but she was definitely flying in for Christmas. Her boyfriend, one of the pilots of her the airline she worked for, was coming with her too so she could introduce him. Odessa was excited to see them both. “What about you? What’re your plans?”

           “Ah, gonna be in New Zealand,” he told her with a small smile. “Spending it with my mom and grandparents.”

           Odessa nodded in acknowledgment, eyes on the menu. She decided to go for the chicken panini. If Calum was going to spend Christmas with his mom, that meant his sister was going to be spending with their dad. He had told Odessa, one time when they were talking about their families, how he and his sister, Mali-Koa, switched off who they spent Christmas with every other year, with the one in between where both siblings were together with one parent. When that happened, New Years was spent with the parent they didn’t see during Christmas. Odessa silently wondered if that was better, of it she just preferred being with her mom every year and never seeing her dad.

           Just as quickly as that thought had come, though, it disappeared all the same. Calum’s parents were still friends, from what he told her. Both Odessa and her mom wanted nothing to do with her dad.

           A waitress came by soon enough, taking their drink orders and wondering if they wanted to order food right then too, which they did. Once she left, a silence befell Odessa and Calum, immune to any disruption by the chatter of the other café patrons. She loathed the mild tension she could feel between them, loathed that she knew it was because of her putting some distance between her and Calum for weeks since she had been unable to figure her feelings out. She wasn’t doing anything to ease the tension, either, as she opted to gaze out the window to her right, watching unfamiliar faces walk past the window, wondering if the lived their lives without making them complicated for themselves.

           “Gotta be honest—I’m surprised you agreed to eat with me.” Odessa felt herself freeze where she sat, gaze snapping over to Calum before she could even think about it. When she looked at Calum, her breath silently hitched in her throat because instead of appearing accusatory like he had every right to, Calum looked almost reluctant to bring up the topic. Like he didn’t want to venture into somewhat dangerous territory, but had to anyway because he knew it was the path that led to honesty. Which Odessa knew he deserved.

           “Calum—”

           “I’ve been trying to give you your space, Odessa,” Calum sighed, head tilting from one side to the other as he sat with his arms crossed over the table. She bit her lower lip as his dark eyes locked with her blue, and her chest tightened when she didn’t see any anger in them. He would be justified if he felt that. Instead, all she saw was confusion, hesitance. He looked unsure, which was a look Odessa wasn’t used to on someone as confident and firm as Calum, and she hated that she put that look on him. “Figured you’d talk when you were ready about what’s been bothering you but—” he let out a short, empty laugh, muddled with confusion. “It’s been a couple of weeks and I’m still in the dark.”

           If Odessa was being honest, she hadn’t quite expected Calum to outright ask her about her behavior. She had assumed he’d let her approach him, wait on her like he had been doing for weeks. Maybe he got tired of waiting, wanted answers sooner rather than later—and she didn’t blame him. Still, despite coming to an understanding about her own feelings, Odessa still wasn’t quite sure how to move forward from there, so she didn’t really know what to tell Calum.

           Shit. She’d brought this on herself, didn’t she?

           When the hell did she become someone who would let anyone have power over her actions—whether they were aware of it or not?

           Odessa tried to find the right words to express what she wanted to say without actually spilling what’s been sitting in her heart in some random café. Just because she had come to terms with her feelings for Calum, didn’t mean she was exactly jumping at the opportunity to let him know. She was still at war with herself, mind heavy with the following consequences of letting him know how she felt. Despite what her friends may think, she couldn’t blind herself to the possibility of Calum not feeling the same way. Letting him know that she had feelings for him and him not reciprocating could make their friendship awkward, put a strain on their professional relationship, too. The latter would change no matter how Calum felt about her, but she would selfishly rather it be because they would do something about their mutual feelings rather than because he was avoiding her and her feelings for him.

           She suppressed a sigh. Odessa wished the chatter in the café was louder. Maybe it’d drown out her own buzzing thoughts.

           “I don’t want you to think you did anything wrong,” Odessa finally spoke up, her words slow and deliberate. Calum’s gaze remained on her; it was an encouraging warmth rather than a demanding heat. “Because you didn’t. This—it’s just something I’m dealing with on my own. And I’m just—I’m sorry for avoiding you. I was just trying to figure some stuff out.”

           There. That was vague, but Odessa felt as though it got the message across. Hopefully.

           “Did you?” She met his gaze, eyebrows knitting together slightly as Calum offered a barely there shrug. “Figure it out?”

           Odessa’s lips parted, though what would say, she was unsure, just as the waitress returned with their food and drinks. She dropped her gaze to her panini, Calum’s question running through her mind. When she looked up again, his eyes were still on her, not even bothering to reach for his food, expectant. Her heart jumped and she exhaled through slightly smiling lips. “Yes and no,” she answered vaguely.

           Before Calum could ask what that meant, a familiar voice interrupted them. “Oh, there you two are! On a little date, are you?”

           Both of their gazes looked up and Odessa could feel the warmth instantly pooling in her cheeks at Justine Greggs’ comment, freezing in her seat. Justine stood with Bridgit Donnelly, one of the other English teachers, both of them grinning at Odessa and Calum like they knew some secret. The implication behind their smiles, along with Justine’s words, had Odessa wished the ground would swallow her up.

           The older women were eyeing her and Calum impishly, and when Odessa chanced a glance at the man sitting across from her, the heat in her face intensified when she saw that charming, boyish grin easily take over his face. A subtle smile, yet enough to completely take her breath away. “Somethin’ like that,” Calum confirmed smoothly, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at them. Odessa tried her hardest not to focus on his words too much—or him—though it was proving to be difficult. With a tilt of his head, he asked Justine and Bridgit, “Would you ladies like to join us?”

           Bridgit laughed lightly. She was in her late thirties, and her personality reminded Odessa of Grams. “No, no, we don’t want to intrude,” she grinned teasingly, shooting both of them a knowing look. Odessa wished she could present herself as unaffected as Calum, who merely chuckled along, not showing any signs of fluster like Odessa probably was. “We’re just going to pick up some coffees before heading to the ice rink. You two should check it out, too.”

           Odessa may not be able to snowboard or ski, but ice skating was something she was capable of. She had gone through a rollerblading phase when she was fifteen, and holiday trip to New York once had proved that she was able to ice skate, too. “Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” she replied without much thought, offering the two other teachers a smile.

           The two women smiled before Justine said, “Alright, well we’ll let you get back to it—enjoy your meals, you two.”

           There was a glint in her eyes, aligning perfectly with the teasing tilt in her voice that had the warmth in Odessa’s cheeks reheating. She had a good idea of what the two women were thinking, their implications not at all lost on Odessa, and she wondered if the universe used the people around her as a conduit to fluster her nerves when it came to Calum. At this point, too many people have teased or alluded to the concept of Odessa and Calum being something more than friends, colleagues. It didn’t help in easing her mind.

           Once Justine and Bridgit left, leaving just her and Calum, she tried to push aside any awkwardness by biting into her panini. And while Calum paid attention to his food, Odessa had kind of hoped their previous conversation was forgotten. Until he spoke up once more. “What did you mean?” he asked carefully. She glanced to see him watching her after he swallowed a bite of his sandwich. “You said yes and no—what’d you mean?”

           Odessa hesitated, lips parting as she thought of a proper, worthy answer. Calum was patient. She let out a breath and offered the best she could, “I mean yes, I figured out what I was working through but I’m, uh, not sure yet how I wanna move forward with it. If. . . That makes sense,” she finished, shooting him a somewhat apologetic look. It was another vague answer, she knew, but there wasn’t really any other way for Odessa to tell Calum without telling him. And it wasn’t the right time for it—if there ever would be one.

           Calum eyed her momentarily, his gaze as intense and warm as ever, before his features softened and he nodded. He seemed to accept her answer, not that it was much of one, and Odessa appreciated it more than he would know. He wasn’t pushing her, even though he deserved to know; she knew he did. She’d been the one pushing him away, creating distance between them without so much as a warning. Calum did nothing wrong. He was unknowingly caught in a situation he was oblivious to, and Odessa was trying her hardest to untangle all of them out of it on her own.

           “How are midterm preparations going?” Odessa then chose to ask, wanting to steer the conversation away from herself. Midterms were being held in the coming week, and Odessa had spent the last few days coming up with exams for her freshman and sophomore classes that wouldn’t drive them too hard into the ground.

           “Good,” Calum answered with a nod after sipping his drink. “Exam’s ready—just hopin’ my kids are, too.”

           Odessa cracked a smile. “Same here,” she said, catching sight of a child running down the street, an excitable grin on her face as she pointed towards a souvenir shop opposite of the café, waiting for her parents to catch up to her. Looking back at Calum, Odessa continued, “I spent half an hour debating if I should have a multiple choice section before deciding against it. I hated them when I took tests—I’m not putting my kids under the stress of second guessing their answer.”

           Calum quirked an eyebrow. “That is, if they didn’t study well.”

           “Not necessarily,” she pointed out. “I have some students who know all the material but they don’t test well. Multiple choice questions certainly don’t help those types.”

           He tilted his head, curiosity sparking his dark eyes as he gazed at her. “You don’t think the challenge will help them in the long run? Not every teacher’s going to be as considerate as you, Essa.”

           The nickname had her heart skipping a beat, but Odessa willed herself to relax, not to get too ahead of herself. Still—it was a struggle to fight the smile from tilting her lips. Her name, any variation of it, sounded so nice from Calum’s lips. “Maybe, maybe not,” Odessa shrugged, letting out a light chuckle. “There’s plenty of other teachers who can throw them off with multiple choices. I’d rather read the responses in their own words in open ended questions.”

           Calum nodded, seeing the reasoning in her answer. “You can tell by that how much they know more clearly—yeah, I agree.”

           Odessa flashed him a grin, feeling more at ease as the minutes passed by. “Plus, I’m too lazy to come up with wrong answers.”

           He snorted as he picked up his glass of ginger ale. “I hear that.”

           She could see his smile that he didn’t try to hide behind the glass, and Odessa didn’t really try to get rid of hers as she bit into the panini. Saying that she missed this, the ease of conversation and Calum’s company, would be an understatement. Depriving herself of Calum’s friendship in the past few weeks had been such an idiotic decision on her part, no matter how many times she told herself it was the right thing to do. Even though she had believed it somewhat, at the time, it now felt like an utterly moronic choice she wouldn’t be making again. Calum and their friendship meant more to Odessa than Paige’s territorial feelings and passive-aggressive comments.

           Their lunch, much to Odessa’s pleasure, passed by comfortably, with conversation flowing easily without drudging up Odessa’s dumb distancing decisions over the past few weeks. The comfort Odessa felt with Calum had returned, despite her ever present thoughts lingering in the back of her head, and she couldn’t help but chastise herself for thinking separating herself from him was ever a good idea. For too long she had been putting Paige’s warnings above her own feelings, and with the help of the sight of Calum sitting across from her, grinning that bright smile, Odessa understood it was about time that changed.

*****

           The ice rink wasn’t as busy as Odessa had expected it to be. She still had yet to venture onto the ice, the skates already tied securely on her feet, but she stood just outside of the rink, looking in through the transparent screen as a few people skated around. Music was playing throughout the arena, and from the two handfuls of people that were there, only a couple were students from the school.

           It wasn’t that late in the day, barely five-thirty. The dinner scheduled for students and the chaperones wasn’t until seven, so Odessa had plenty of time to enjoy the rink for now. But before she could step onto the ice, Calum’s voice suddenly sounded to her right. “Are you gonna skate or stare?”

           She let out a light laugh as she glanced at him, noting the small smile playing on his lips, hoodie pulled over his beanie. He looked so warm. After their lunch, they’d walked around the little village for a bit before separating; he’d gone to ski and after telling him she wasn’t risking an injury by joining him, Odessa had headed to her hotel room for a nap. She’d woken up earlier than usual that day, and the cold weather only added onto the sleepiness that had crept on her.

           “No need to be pushy,” she responded teasingly before stepping forward. Odessa found her footing easily, the blades sliding against the ice as she moved, Calum stepping on right behind her.

           “Oh, Jesus—fuck.” Odessa’s eyebrows shot up as she turned around, feeling an amused smile tilt at her lips as she watched Calum right himself, letting out a huff as he found his balance.

           With a curious tilt of her head, Odessa asked, “You do know how to skate, right?” He knew how to ski—skating should be a piece of cake, shouldn’t it?

           “Yes,” Calum responded instantly, putting a pointed stress on the word as he skated to come up next to her. “Just needed to find my balance.”

           It was comical that as soon as he said that, his body tipped forward, feet threatening to give out under him. Odessa’s eyes widened and she instantly grabbed his hand, gloved fingers wrapping around his without much thought. She didn’t dismiss the jump of her heart when Calum tightened his grip, a small yet grateful smile lifting his lips as she tried not to dwell on the pinkness of his cheeks and nose because of the cold. Odessa’s throat dried, the music playing in the rink being drowned out by the notion of Calum having no intention of letting her hand go becoming prominent, and she slowly pulled him along.

           Neither dwelled on the glaring fact that Calum, who could ski and play soccer, didn’t really need Odessa to keep holding his hand as they skated. But he hadn’t let go, and Odessa sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to loosen her grip. So they skated on, the arena echoing with music playing and the chatter of others around them, mixing in with the blades gliding along the ice. Despite that, Odessa didn’t want there to be any silence between them, even though it was often comfortable; there had been enough unwilling silence existing between the two of them lately because of her and she wanted to fill it. Talking to Calum was too relaxing and effortless to deprive herself of.

           “How was skiing?” she casually asked as they started their second lap around the rink, side by side.

           “Not too bad,” Calum responded with a raspy chuckle. “Took me a minute to get used to.”

           Odessa shot him a playful smile, raising an eyebrow as she asked, “Like skating?”

           He returned her smile with a boyish smirk, the kind that flipped her heart, as he smoothly responded, “Something like that—except you weren’t there to hold my hand on the slopes.”

           The warmth flooded Odessa’s cheeks at his words, surprised that she didn’t slip because of the shock they greeted her with. She hoped the coldness of where they were would present itself as reason enough for the harsh pinkness in her cheeks. Odessa had no idea if Calum was just joking around with her or if he meant what he said; his smirk remained, but there was a hint of something other than playfulness in the dark of his eyes as he watched her that only warmed her even more.

           Her throat worked, looking ahead once more as they skated on, and Odessa let out a gentle, short laugh as she forced herself to respond, “I don’t think that would’ve made skiing any easier.”

           “Maybe,” Calum hummed thoughtfully, fingers still interlocked with hers. She only embraced the knowledge of it once more when he gave a squeeze to her hand. “But I would’ve welcomed it anyway.”

           He’s flirting with me. The thought screamed through Odessa’s mind, manifesting itself in the lump that formed in her dry throat, skin firing up even more. She knew he was; she could hear it in the quietened way he spoke, words tilting with hesitantly alluring tone. Like he couldn’t help himself to say innocently suggestive things, but was unsure if she would welcome them or not. But Odessa did—she very much did. Now that she was aware of her feelings for Calum, his flirtations that crossed the line of friendship Odessa had failed to establish—not that she minded—were words that made her heart race and in excitement and had the knots of anxiety tightening her stomach loosen and disappear.

           Safe. Comfortable. Calum’s made her feel those things from the moment she met him—more so than anyone else she’s met that wasn’t her immediate family.

           “Odessa.” She let out a barely-heard startled gasp as Calum forced them to a stop towards the side, out of the way of those skating around. He stood in front of her, tall body towering over hers, dark eyes meeting her widened blue. “I know it’s none of my business—but what happened? You kind of just. . . Stopped talking to me and, I gotta tell you, I’ve been trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

           “You didn’t do anything wrong, Calum,” Odessa instantly replied without much thought. She couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking it was his fault, despite coming to the uncomfortable realization he most likely thought just that over the time she tried to put distance between them. Her nerves crept back, but Calum’s presence didn’t allow them to take over her. “I was just confused.”

           Calum’s throat worked. “About what?” he implored, a gentleness in his voice not lost in the buzzing rink. It was already beginning to feel like it was just the two of them, nobody around to disturb them, as Calum kept Odessa grounded. His gaze, intense as always, was warm and encouraging, softer than what Odessa felt like she deserved.

           She looked up at him, took in the pinkness of his cheeks and nose because of the cold, the blonde hair peeking out from under his beanie, the stubble on his chin and jaw. Odessa felt as though every detail of his appearance was engrained in her mind, the sight of him so achingly familiar. A warm light guiding her closer and closer to the truth until the words were slipping past her lips without much thought.

           “How I feel.” Odessa didn’t particularly think to elaborate on that, feeling a hint of embarrassment creep up, mixing in with the nerves of finally, finally, finally telling Calum how she felt. Voicing it would make it feel more real than it already was, but Odessa just needed to get out of her head. Since she met him, Calum never made Odessa feel as though she should be embarrassed about anything—if she ever was, it was because on her accord. But as he stood in front of her, patient and, dare she say it, hopeful, she allowed herself to add in a somewhat wavering tone, “About you. Us.”

           “Us?” Calum repeated, and was that hope settling in his features?

           Odessa swallowed, heart jumping as he kept his gaze purposefully locked on hers. She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. Calum’s eyes had her trapped and she wasn’t too keen on escaping. “I realized how lucky I am to have you as a friend,” she carefully started, her voice quiet, gentle. Was she imagining the way they seemed to be drawing close to one another? She was trying hard not to let her gaze drop from his eyes to his lips, no matter how inviting they looked. “And I’m just. . . Not sure how far that luck goes.”

           She was being annoyingly cryptic, she knew, but Odessa had a feeling Calum knew exactly where she was going with this.

           If anything, the way he let out a short breath through curling lips before closing the gap between them was pretty solid of an answer.

           Odessa leaned into Calum immediately, her surprised gasp silenced with his lips meeting hers in a kiss so warm, so thrilling, that it allowed her body to feel shivers down her spine and heat spreading throughout her skin all at once. It was unexpected, but the shock wore off quickly as her free hand—the one that wasn’t still holding onto his—reached up to rest on the back of his neck, lips moving with his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt like it was.

           There were no butterflies or fireworks, but a wave of calmness that blanketed itself over Odessa as Calum kissed her, feeling his arm wrap around her waist to keep her close, a warmth spreading through her. His stubble tickled at her skin and his head tilted ever so slightly to deepen the kiss, the sensation of his tongue languidly meeting hers sending another thrill down her spine. Odessa was deaf to her surroundings, uncaring of anyone or anything around her, her focus solely on Calum and the way he kissed her. Like he’d been wanting to do it for as long as she did. It was better than Odessa could have ever imagined, the taste of mint dancing against her lips, mixing in with his familiar cologne enveloping her.

           They pulled away too quickly in Odessa’s opinion, eyes still shut as her mind reeled from the kiss, not even realizing she was subtly chasing Calum’s lips with her own until she heard him let out a soft chuckle. His warm breath tickled her, his forehead resting against hers, and Odessa pressed her teeth together to ground herself. Holy shit. As far as kisses go, Odessa wanted this one to be her last first kiss.

           “I’d say your luck goes pretty far,” Calum spoke, a teasing tone in his raspy voice.

           His words had Odessa letting out a breathless laugh despite her entranced state, opening her eyes to catch sight of his deep brown ones. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the way he was looking at her; soft, warm, delicate. A small smile played on the corners of his lips, a boyish smirk, yet his eyes gave away to the gentleness she knew he possessed. Had the pinkness in his cheeks darkened? Odessa was sure hers had.

           Her hand dropped from his neck, but her fingers caught the drawstrings of Calum’s hoodie, playing with them as she found herself reluctantly asking, “You don’t think this complicates things?” She lifted her gaze to meet his, almost shyly. “We work together—”

           “There’s no rule against that, Essa,” Calum reminded her gently. He then ducked his head, maintaining her gaze, raising his eyebrows almost knowingly as he added, “Unless there’s something else that’s holding you back from figuring out what this is.”

           Odessa rolled her lips into her mouth, throat tightening momentarily as Paige’s face involuntarily flashed through her mind. Her fingers absently tightened their grip on the drawstrings of Calum’s hoodie she was playing with, looking away from him as a frustrated frown knitted at her eyebrows. Hadn’t she told herself she wouldn’t care about this anymore? That she wouldn’t put Paige, who clearly didn’t give a shit about Odessa, and her feelings above her own? Calum kissed her—and he obviously wanted to pursue something with her. Why was Odessa unwillingly finding reasons to not let him lead her in the right direction?

           “Is it because of Paige?” Odessa’s eyes widened almost comically at Calum’s question, looking at him in surprise, taken aback at how he reached that conclusion so quickly. He was an observant guy, Odessa knew, but still—how had he picked up on that? Noting the disbelief in Odessa’s face, Calum offered a small smile, letting out a breath as he confessed, “Luke told me.”

           Odessa’s expression dropped into a flat one, unimpressed at their friend’s inability to keep things to himself. But, honestly, Odessa wasn’t mad at Luke; him telling Calum what had been weighing so heavily on Odessa made things easier for her. It was probably cowardly of her, but Luke did her a favor, saved her some awkwardness, and she was grateful for it.

           “Odessa,” Calum spoke up, broad shoulders squared and staring down at her pointedly. She did her best to focus attentively, warning herself not to get lost in the dark of his eyes. “You gotta know that Paige and I were never serious—it shouldn’t’ve happened in the first place, but I can’t change that.” Odessa’s heart jumped at his words, his admittance of not wanting to pursue anything with Paige feeling like a weight off of Odessa’s shoulders she didn’t know she needed, a relief she’d been silently craving for longer than she’d like to admit.

           She parted her lips, hoping the skates on her feet would keep her steady, oblivious to the world around her as she quietly asked, “What’re you saying?”

           The corner of Calum’s lips curled up softly, far too handsome, and Odessa was overcome with the urge to kiss him again. But she kept herself still, waiting for his answer. “I’m saying,” he started with a short chuckle, “that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment I met you. And—” his smile widened, a playful tilt, “—being your work-husband isn’t enough.”

           “You’re not proposing to me, are you?” Odessa cut in, unable to help the joke from slipping past her lips despite the anticipation tickling her stomach. She couldn’t stop herself—it was effortless when it came to Calum.

           He let out a laugh at her question, the sight of his smile bringing on her own, especially at the light dancing in his eyes. With a quirk of an eyebrow, Calum pointed out, “I think I have to take you out on a date first.”

           Before Odessa could respond, the excitement tickling her nerves, a shouting voice echoed throughout the rink, “Oh shit, Coach and Ms. Kline! I knew it!”

           Her eyes widened in surprise, Calum’s eyebrows shooting up as they leaned away from one another and looked over. Odessa pursed her lips, fighting the sheepish grin from tilting at her mouth when she saw a couple students, mostly boys from the soccer team, towards the middle of the rink as they comically cheered their two teachers on. Heat pooled in Odessa’s cheeks as she saw the few boys and girls looking at them in teasing excitement, and suddenly Odessa herself felt like she was a teenager as she subtly slid back from Calum.

           His hand was still gripping hers though as she peeked a look at him. His eyes were light with mirth, though he wasn’t going to give the kids the satisfaction as he shot them a look. Odessa wondered if they could see the subtle smirk on his face from where they stood. “Keep it movin’, kids. Nothing to see here,” he called back to them, waving them off with their free hand. Standing tall, he added, “Go on before I make you skate laps.”

           One of the kids from the team, Frankie, puffed his chest out and hollered, “We’re on vacation! You can’t make us, Coach.”

           Calum skated forward a bit, eyebrows raising and a challenging gleam in his eyes that had Odessa biting back a smile. “Wanna bet?”

           And with a cacophony of “Sorry, Coach”, the boys and their friends were skating away, though Odessa wasn’t oblivious to the way they glanced back over their shoulders. It was amusing, if she was being honest, looking back at Calum as he skated to stand in front of her. He cracked a smile, letting out a silent breath. “Maybe I can take you out when there aren’t any kids around.”

           She laughed, a flutter in her chest. “Sounds good to me.”

           And even though there were a couple of students in the rink, their interest in their two teachers amusing, it didn’t stop Calum from tightening his grip on Odessa’s hand before they continued skating. Odessa couldn’t stop foolishly smiling, cheeks soon beginning to hurt, but she didn’t care. For the first time, she allowed herself to give into her feelings without a care for anyone else.

*****

           “Correct me if I’m wrong, but were you and Calum on a little date earlier today?”

           Odessa pressed her lips together as she forced down her sip of wine, widened eyes meeting Justine Greggs’ impish grin. Her fellow teacher had a knowing spark in her dark eyes, and Odessa felt heat creep up her neck as she put the glass down. “I—no, no. It wasn’t a date,” she told her with an embarrassed laugh which only served to make it seem like Odessa was lying—which she wasn’t. That was not a date. “We were just having lunch together, that’s all.”

           “Mhm,” Justine hummed, not at all convinced as her lip curled while she took a sip of her wine as well. With a tilt of her head, she asked, “Then how come I’m hearing whispers among the students that a couple of them caught you two being close at the ice rink?”

           “Oh, my God,” Odessa’s jaw dropped, gaping at Justine as she leaned forward. The two of them had been sitting the bar in the resort as it neared eleven at night, just a few people around. In a whisper, Odessa asked, “Are Calum and I on the rumor mill now?”

           Her coworker smiled in amusement. “You two are the only focus of the rumor mill,” she informed Odessa, whose skin fired up even more.

           She felt embarrassed, almost shrinking into herself as she told Justine, “I’m so sorry about that—we definitely should’ve been more careful about students seeing us—”

           “Odessa, please, you’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Justine laughed lightly, waving the younger woman off. Odessa quietened, her nerves still playing on her features as she mentally berated herself. She hadn’t thought about it much at the time, too blissed out on Calum’s kiss and the confessions murmured in the rink, but now when she thought about it, she had noticed some of the looks she’d been receiving during the dinner earlier. All from students looking far too excited and as if they’d stumbled upon a big secret. They might as well have. “You and Calum are two grown adults with your own lives. There’s no rule preventing you two from being in a relationship.”

           Odessa pressed her lips together in a small yet grateful smile, the blush still heavy in her cheeks as she sipped her drink. There may not have been a rule at the school keeping her and Calum from being together, but there had been an unspoken one that had nestled in Odessa’s mind for so long, all thanks to Paige. Now, though, it was being etched out of her mind for good, and as it went, so did the tension tightening Odessa’s chest.

           “Speak of the devil.” Odessa’s head snapped up at Justine’s words, noting that she was looking past Odessa’s shoulder with a small smirk.

           Odessa turned around in her stool, feeling a smile tilt at her lips as she caught Calum walking into the bar, feeling a nostalgic sense of déjà vu wash over her as she remembered the first time she saw him; Mrs. Brewer had uttered the same words when Calum entered the teacher’s lounge on Odessa’s first day of work.

           His gaze met hers right away, a smile playing on his lips as he approached where she sat, his walk as confident as his smile quiet. He still wore his clothes from today, minus the jacket and beanie, a sight Odessa never would tire of.

           “Evenin’, ladies,” he greeted despite it being way past the time for it to be considered the evening, waving down the bartender. “Mind if I join you?”

           “You can keep Odessa company,” Justine said as she got up, her glass now empty. She smiled at the two of them, the knowing look too bright in her eyes as she paid. “I’m going to head to my room for the night.”

           She left, leaving just Odessa and Calum at the bar as he ordered a beer for himself, spinning in the stool so he was facing her. “Did you hear?” he started, a ghost of a smirk tilting at his lips. “We’re the hottest topic in high school gossip today.”

           Odessa let out a short laugh, eyebrows raising as she nodded, looking down at her nearly empty glass of wine. “Yeah—the kids aren’t that subtle about it.”

           “No, they aren’t,” Calum agreed with a deep chuckle, nodding thanks to the bartender as the bottle of beer was placed in front of him. Lifting the bottle to his lips, Calum scoffed, “I haven’t been high school gossip since I was seventeen and streaked across the football field.”

           A startled laugh escaped Odessa, blue eyes dancing in amusement as she stared at Calum in surprise, and he merely smiled boyishly as he sipped his drink. “Are you serious?” she asked with a laugh, facing him in disbelief.

           He offered a shrug, not too apologetic about it. “Michael dared me. I couldn’t back down from it.”

           Odessa rolled her eyes though she was still laughing, licking her lips before musing, “Of course you couldn’t.” When her laughter died down, Odessa took a breath and glanced at Calum, voice quieting as she asked, “Seriously, though—you don’t feel awkward about it?”

           “Not really, no,” Calum answered with a shake of his head. He smiled, then, small and subtle, before adding, “It’s not anything I haven’t heard from my players.”

           Her gaze darted to him as she drank her wine, eyebrows shooting up as she lowered the glass, swallowed the sip, before sputtering, “What do you mean?”

           Calum faced her once more, right elbow resting on the bar top, chin lifting as his smile remained playing on the corners of his lips. The amusement danced in his dark eyes under the dim yellow lighting of the bar, features softened in the glow as Odessa peered up at him. “All the boys have mouths on ’em. They aren’t shy about teasing me ’bout you.”

           “Teasing you about me?” Odessa repeated, the disbelief thick in her tone. She was having a hard time processing that this was even a conversation Calum had with his soccer players—on more than one occasion, so it seemed. She was amused and embarrassed and curious all at once as the heat remained pooling in her cheeks. When it came to Calum, Odessa might as well be a middle school girl with a crush. “What do they even say?”

           “The most reoccurring?” Calum hummed, leaning towards Odessa just a bit, instantly making her oblivious to her surroundings. It wasn’t like there were that many people in the resort’s bar anyway, but as soon as Calum neared her, there might as well have been none. She noted the sweep of his eyelashes as he gazed at her, eyes briefly flickering to her lips before brown eyes met blue, her heart fluttering excitedly. “They kept telling their coach to do everyone a favor and ask you out.”

           Odessa rolled her lips into her mouth, tasting the wine she’d been drinking, her left elbow propped up on the bar as she, too, faced Calum. The way he was looking right back at her—his gaze was never something Odessa felt like she would get used to, like he was taking in every part of her, committing her to memory. Her own voice lowered, pointing out softly, “You already did that.”

           “I did,” Calum replied, smiling boyishly, his knee brushing against hers. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Right after I kissed you.” Odessa hummed an affirmative, feeling as though something was pulling her closer to him. She found herself desperately wanting to close the space between them. “Which is something I should’ve done a lot sooner. But—” Odessa’s eyebrows quirked up ever so slightly, not even at her own accord, too lost in Calum and the gap between them closing. They’d already kissed in public once—what was a second time? Her gaze dropped to his lips, soft and full and pink, made to be kissed. She saw the corner of his mouth comply with a ghost of a smirk, voice low as he finished, “You were worth the wait.”

           Odessa felt her neck tense as her throat tightened, Calum’s dangerously sweet words sending a thrill down her spine she did her best in hiding. The effect he had on her wasn’t one she’d ever experienced before—it wasn’t one she wanted to go without anymore, either.

           They didn’t kiss then, like both of them so desperately wanted to do. Instead, a mutual yet silent agreement passed between them and they pulled away, sitting up in their stools, sipping their drinks as they let the conversation take a natural turn over towards something less enticing.

           Odessa ran her finger around the rim of her glass, aware of Calum’s gaze on her, as a thought crept into her head. With a slight furrow of her eyebrows, she asked slowly, “What exactly did Luke tell you? About. . . The Paige thing?”

           There was a subtle change in Calum’s features, a resignation as his cheeks puffed slightly with a sharp exhale. “Nothing that surprised me,” he told her truthfully. His gaze met Odessa’s. “Luke knows how I feel about you and he may have admitted that there was a chance you felt the same.” He cracked a knowing grin at Odessa rolling her eyes, muttering under her breath about Luke being unable to keep his mouth shut. Not that she was truly annoyed with him. Calum’s smile faltered a bit then. “But you weren’t going to do anything about it because Paige more or less told you to back off—which she had no right doing, by the way.”

           Odessa scoffed, eyebrows raising. “Could’ve fooled me.”

           “Listen, Odessa,” Calum sighed, facing her with a pointed look on his face. “Do you want me to talk to her when we get back?”

           She paused for a moment, considering his offer. If Odessa was being honest, the less interactions she had with Paige, the better—though, she wasn’t sure how that would be possible, given their friend group is the same. But sooner or later, Odessa would have to confront Paige herself, especially now that she had come to terms with her feelings for Calum and realizing it wasn’t just some passing crush.

           “Don’t talk to her on my behalf,” she decided. “I have to talk things out with her myself.”

           Calum nodded, accepting her reasoning. “Fair enough,” he murmured before taking a sip of his beer. “I’m gonna have to talk to her myself anyway—set the record straight about where she and I stand.” He then glanced at Odessa, lips curling into a boyish smirk as he added, “Especially if I wanna make things work with you.”

           Her cheeks were aflame once again, yet Odessa didn’t mind one bit as a shy yet thrilled smile curled at her lips, already aching her cheeks as she ducked her head. Calum chuckled quietly at her reaction. He had a way with words, which wasn’t surprising given his profession, and he used it to his advantage to render Odessa speechless. She could only hope to get him back for it one day.

           Once they finished their drinks, it was nearing midnight, and given that it was their first day at Big Bear, it would serve them better to go to bed. So they paid for their drinks and headed out of the bar and towards the elevators, the resort a lot quieter this time of night than earlier in the day. There was a comfortable silence between Calum and Odessa as they rode the elevator to their floor, and as they stood next to one another, Odessa had the foolish feeling of stretching her left pinky out just so to wrap around Calum’s. But she didn’t. Instead she just glanced at him from the corner of her eye, peering up at the much taller figure to her left, fighting off her grin when she saw his own lips twitching into a knowing smile.

           She was giddy. Relieved. The tension that had been weighing her down disappeared in a matter of a day, and keeping a smile off her face wasn’t too possible.

           The elevator doors slid open and Calum waited for her to step out first before they walked down the empty carpeted hall. They’d already checked in with their students earlier that night. Odessa’s hotel room came before Calum’s, since he was just two doors down, and as she pulled out her key card, he stood with his hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie, gaze on hers.

           “I’ll see you in the morning, then?” Calum said just as Odessa’s door clicked open after she used the card.

           She stood in the doorway, gripping the door handle tight as she peered up at Calum. There was a fighting urge to invite Calum inside, to continue the kiss that hadn’t lasted long enough back at the ice rink. And the way his brown eyes were peering at her, soft yet alluring, gave Odessa the feeling that Calum wanted to come into her room just as badly as she wanted him to. But he wouldn’t, not unless she said so, and as badly as Odessa wanted to, she shouldn’t. It would be inappropriate, wouldn’t it? While they were on a field trip with students and other teachers?

           Having morals sucked. More so lately than usual.

           So she smiled, leaning against the door she kept open reluctantly. “Yeah,” Odessa answered, almost breathlessly, with a nod. “In the morning.”

           Calum nodded, a muscle in his jaw jumping momentarily, a subtle smile playing on his lips. Something silent passed between them as his eyes remained on her blue, and Odessa’s throat tightened. Calum lifted his chin. “Goodnight, Essa.”

           Shit, she didn’t want him to go. “Goodnight, Calum.”

           With one last smile, Calum turned to go, and Odessa stepped back to shut the door instead of watching him leave. She squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned her back against the door, head tilted back to face the ceiling, and her nose scrunched as she battled with herself. The moral side of her was telling her she did the right thing; inviting Calum inside wouldn’t be a good idea, for no reason other than it wouldn’t entirely be the responsible chaperone thing to do.

           But another part—a much larger part—was reminding Odessa that she had waited long enough. Keeping herself away from Calum—hadn’t it lasted for too long already? Now that her feelings were out there, along with his, there technically wasn’t anything stopping either of them from pursuing what they were feeling. How many more excuses would Odessa dig up to keep herself from being happy? Why was she constantly doing that? She deserved more, didn’t she?

           She bit her lower lip, eyebrows scrunching together above closed eyes. Odessa wasn’t a selfish person, and in this situation, she wasn’t even being selfish to anyone but herself. That had to come to an end; sooner—now—rather than later.

           Her eyes opened, staring into her empty hotel room, and a deep breath escaped her as she made her mind up. Heart doing an excited flip in her chest, Odessa pushed herself away from the door, gripping the handle, and pulled it open quickly. Only for her breath to catch in her throat when she saw Calum still standing there, hand raised halfway as if he was about to knock on the door.

           Odessa stared at him with startled eyes, only able to hear the escalating beat of her heart, as Calum stared right back, lips parting yet nothing coming out. A beat of silence passed between them, both taking in the sight of the other, and just as quickly, they met in the middle.

           Calum’s lips found Odessa’s in a swift, desperate kiss, hands gripping her face as her own pulled him closer by gripping his sweatshirt, allowing him to push her into the room as she kissed him back just as fervently. His touch was warm, kisses hinting of beer and electrifying, and stubble scratching at her deliciously. Calum kicked the door shut behind him, the slam of the door drowned out by Odessa’s racing heart, and not a thing mattered except for the man who once again kissed her like his life depended on it.

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @sweetcherrymike​ @meetashthere​ @loveroflrh​ @astroashtonio​ @softforcal​ @loverofhood​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @highfivecalum​ @malumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @miss-saltwatercowgirl​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @mindkaleidoscope​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @cocktail-calum​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @tpwkcal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @wildflowergrae​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @notinthesameguey​ @mycollectionofnuts​ @cthwldflwr​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @socorroann​ @talkfastromance4​ @calumftduke​ @musichoney​ @treatallwithkindness​ @partlysunnycal​ @dead-and-golden​ @kaeleykaeley​ @harrys-sun-flower​ @br-hoe​   

[xpao-bearx]

《This story series is also on my AO3 acc @ Paoloca》

SUMMARY: The bachelors of Selphia conjure up a plan to decide who truly deserves the beautiful princess' heart...if Frey can only choose one of them, that is.

PAIRINGS: Frey x Vishnal, Frey x Kiel, Frey x Doug, Frey x Arthur, Frey x Dylas, Frey x Leon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please bear these in mind if you are uncomfortable and do NOT report!

NOTE: I have been an avid fan and lover of the Rune Factory series for a looong fooken time now and with RF 5 coming up (who else can't wait?!?!) along with my bursting inspiration, I decided to do something a lil special~ 💖

This story is actually one I wrote--or at least TRIED to write as I didn't finish it--many years ago on my old Wattpad acc (I have a new one now). As such, I'm taking the basic plotline from the original idea I had and simply making it a bit better especially now that I'm older + more mature (pfft yeah sure "mAtUrE" xD).

I sincerely and deeply love ALL of the amazing bachelors on RF 4 and as someone who absolutely ✨A D O R E S✨ reverse harems, I really *personally* don't think that Frey has to choose! And so, here's a naughty + sweet story that'll kinda just delve into my--and I'm sure others'--fantasy ;)

I hope ya lovelies will enjoy this story series and your wonderful support is always very much appreciated! 🥺💕💕 Also, feel free to fangirl/fanboy with me anytime~

P.S. Please forgive mah pathetic ass in advance if I ever portray any of the characters wrong, I promise to do my best!!

"The Princess' Harem"

Part 1: The Game

☆ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE TALENTED ARTIST☆

Summer 1, the dawn of a sweltering season. But most of all...

Beach Day!

Ah, yes, a most wonderful holiday to take a dip in the refreshing water and don the most attractive swimsuits that perfectly hugged one's form! And while it was understandable for the gentlemen to gawk and admire the lovely ladies, it seemed that all the bachelors of Selphia were completely ensnared by one warrior princess in particular...

Frey's tinkly laughter carried in the air as she happily swam around in the lake with the other girls. It was certainly a gorgeous day, yet none could quite rival the turquoise haired beauty's radiant smile.

"Haa... The princess is SO beautiful~" Vishnal sighed dreamily, his violet eyes turning into hearts.

"A goddess among mere mortals!" Kiel piped up cutely.

"You guys are so lame! But, uh... Y-Yeah, I agree, I guess." Doug conceded, face flushing as scarlet as his hair.

"I am a man, after all. Therefore, I must say I agree as well." Arthur cleared his throat, propping his glasses.

"You are all perverts..." Dylas grumbled, though he couldn't help but shyly sneak a peek at Frey.

"My, my~ You're such a bad liar, horsie. Calling us perverts when you, yourself, are one~" Leon chuckled, smirking.

"Who're ya calling horsie?!" Dylas snapped, but couldn't start an argument when all of them heard a splash and saw Frey emerge onto shore.

"Princess!" Vishnal beamed, not wasting a single second as he dashed towards her with a towel much like an excited puppy. "Are you done swimming?"

Frey gratefully took the towel, wiping her drenching body with it. "Yes, I am! And once I change into my clothes, I'm going to be checking the requests."

"You're ever so diligent, Frey. I truly admire that about you." Arthur smiled as he and the rest of the boys approached their beloved girlfriend. Arthur's glasses then flashed as the sun reflected on them, and he quickly grabbed that splendid opportunity for his gaze to drop and hyperfocus on Frey's nearly naked body. He barely managed to suppress it as he almost shamelessly licked his lips, fully taking in and very much appreciating her wet and fit physique.

"Oh, it's nothing! I'm only doing my duties." Frey giggled, embarrassed as her cheeks tinted pink. "But other than that, how come you guys aren't in your swimsuits? It's boiling!" She frowned worriedly.

"Why, is milady that eager to see me in all my glory?" Leon purred, standing in front of her in a flash. His teal eyes sparkled mischievously, as one of his hands reached forward to run his fingers through her long hair. "If you want to see me that badly, I'd rather 'perform' a private show for you tonight~"

Frey became as red as a ruby, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water. She tried to speak, but no words came out as she could only stare up with eyes as wide as dinner plates at an amused Leon who was enjoying this situation far too much.

"Oi, knock it off!" Dylas growled, wrapping a protective arm around Frey as he glared sharply at Leon. "She's gonna go fishing with me after she's done, anyways!"

"WHAT?! No fair, you can't hog her all to yourself! If you guys are going fishing then I'm going, too!" Doug huffed, snatching Frey away from Dylas.

"No way, you dumbass dwarf! You're not invited!"

"Well, I am now, you fucking nag!"

As the two handsome idiots bickered like an old married couple and fought over Frey, she could only release an exasperated sigh. Honestly, she loved them both, but there was really no use trying to talk any sense into them. The best anyone could do was just wait it out until they inevitably get tired.

But as Doug and Dylas were yanking Frey from one side to another like a ragdoll, they suddenly stopped. It seems that everyone else halted, too, and the air blew bitter cold. Frey, oblivious, could only raise a brow before she finally realized--or more like felt--what all the boys were staring at.

She looked down, Doug and Dylas' hands accidentally cupping each one of Frey's breasts. All of the boys were a thousand shades of crimson, and Vishnal even started to have a nosebleed.

"ACK! S-Sorry..!" Doug and Dylas exclaimed in unison, abruptly pulling their hands away as if they were burned.

"O-Oh, uh, it's f-fine..!" Frey stuttered, not being able to meet anyone's gaze. "I-It was just an accident, after all!"

"Are you sure you're alright, Frey?" Kiel asked, holding her hands into his gently as he studied her face in concern. "These lowlifes didn't hurt you, did they?" It was rare for Kiel to be angry let alone badmouthing anyone, but it was clear from his tone how upset he was. Honestly, Doug and Dylas were a little scared...

"Y-Yes, I'm alright!" Frey nodded vigorously, smiling brightly. "Seriously, guys, don't worry about me! I'll see you all later, okay?" She hurriedly gave each one of them a chaste peck on the cheek before making her way back to the castle.

"So..." Leon began, a fake smile plastered on his lips as his eyes held no emotion. "I wonder who the true perverts are now?"

"H-Hey, it was an accident! Besides, it's all this moron's fault!" Dylas retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Doug.

"MY fault?! If you just invited me in the first place, none of this would've happened!" Doug shouted furiously.

"You guys...touched...the princess' b-b-breasts..." Vishnal muttered, totally lost in his own world as he was slowly deteriorating from existence.

"Oh, my..." Arthur let out a heavy exhale. "I'm sure you two already know this, but as soon as Frey is done with her tasks then you both must apologize to her again. Accident or not, it is completely unacceptable for a man to touch a woman without her consent."

"Hey, y'know, I've been wondering..." Kiel cut in. "Do you guys ever think if Frey is just being strung along by us?"

"What do you mean?" Doug frowned.

"Like, didn't we confess to Frey at different times? And at every confession, she rejected all of us. And later on, it was only then we found out that we all shared the same feelings for her."

"So, what's your point?" Dylas pressed.

Kiel sighed, staring pointedly at the taller man. "Don't you find it a bit weird that now, we're all in a relationship with her? I know that being in a polyamorous relationship with Frey was something we all consented on from the very beginning, but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Isn't it obvious? Being in a polyamorous relationship means that Frey likes all of us at the same time, which is fine. Maybe she was just too shy at first to admit it." Leon shrugged.

"That may be true, or...what if she's only with us out of pity?" A wave of realization washed through everyone, and a certain pang of sadness settled in their hearts. "Frey is such a nice person, it's possible she only agreed to be with us since she felt bad for rejecting us. And now, she doesn't know how to break up with us for fear of hurting us even more."

"There's also one other possibility..." Arthur spoke up. "What if she actually likes one of us, but can't exclusively date that person?"

Dead silence. Only the faint sounds of the lake thrashing and birds chirping, before Vishnal was the one who first woke up back to reality.

"So... What are we supposed to do?" He questioned softly. "I feel so terrible... If what you're saying is true, then I don't want to continue on like this. I love Frey, but I can't ever bear the thought of hurting her!"

"How about a game?" Leon suggested.

"Now's really not the time, foxy." Doug rolled his eyes.

"No, no. You've misunderstood." Leon shook his head. "I'm talking about a game to see who Frey truly likes or doesn't like. And that way, we won't have to be hurting her and suffering like this anymore."

"Hmm... An interesting proposition." Arthur hummed thoughtfully. "I don't quite like referring to this as a 'game', but colour me intrigued. What's your idea, then?"

"Alright. So, we each get one whole day to spend with Frey. Completely alone, and no one is allowed to bother anyone else. As long as Frey is okay with it, then we can do whatever we want with her. Going on dates, exploring...you get the idea. Finally, by the end of the week, we'll all ask her how she feels and who she had the most fun with. Her answer will then determine what will happen afterwards."

"Hmph. Okay, that sounds good." Dylas nodded, agreeing for once. "How can we settle who goes first and last, though?"

"I think it would only be fair if we go in the order that Frey met us. So it's Vishnal, me, Doug, Arthur, Dylas, and then Leon." Kiel offered.

"All in favour?" Arthur asked, and everyone collectively voiced out their approval. "Good. It's settled, then. May the best man win!"

"Speaking of, I forgot that the castle is undergoing construction! So please excuse me, I'll have to get going now!" Vishnal grinned, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

"Wait... I just visited Ventuswill earlier with Granny Blossom." Doug furrowed his brows before gasping. "That bastard..! He went to go have a headstart with Frey!" He immediately chased after the conniving butler, but not before his shoulder got bumped hard by Dylas.

"If anyone's gonna get a headstart, it's me!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, HORSIE!"

Arthur sighed deeply, rubbing his temples stressfully as Kiel only chuckled sheepishly. Leon simply watched the scene, his fan hiding his smirk.

'There is a saying: Save the best for last~' Leon thought satisfyingly to himself.