#did I observe the three weeks or the nine days? no but I’m reading a Wikipedia page!

[ephemeral-winter]

have decided that reading the Wikipedia page for any given tragedy befalling the Jewish people on the morning of Tisha b’Av counts for the mitzvah of traditional study of distressing texts

[ashlingiswriting]

do i know you? chapter three

[ 3k words ] [ prev chapters: one, two ] [ masterlist ] "it’s an unfamiliar sensation, not being able to completely read him. it skitters over you like static electricity." richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn

you’re on call every day from eight at night to eight in the morning, so by the time richie rolls up, you’ve usually just eaten a late breakfast and he’s heading home after work. there’s a consistency to his late night appearances, a rhythm that becomes comforting.

there’s no pretending and no politeness—what would be the point? they should invent a word for this. maybe childhood-friend-in-law would do, except you had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever marrying michael and you always knew it. that’s the feeling, though. familiarity comes built in. even when he gets truly infuriating, you don’t leave feeling worse than you did. more pissed off, sure, but never worse. it’s a distinction worth noticing. 

some nights are easy. you talk about questionable obscure music in which you really do not overlap or middling mainstream music in which you do, running out of concerts and context. sometimes it’s pure bullshit, gossip or make believe, starting up elaborate jokes too lame to admit to in front of anyone else, then discarding them when they’re outworn. sometimes it’s old stories, sometimes it’s pure speculation.

hand to god, some nights are good.

and then there’s this night.

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.

.

you’re barely out the front door when richie calls out, hey. where the hell were you?

you got called in real early yesterday, so you missed seeing him last night. but that’s no cause for him to yell, the entitled little jerk. you shoot him a baleful glare. then, as you take in the sight of him, you settle a little.

he’s not truly angry. you’ve spent enough time with him now, you’d know.

with a shrug, you shove your hands deep in your pockets and come stand beside him. 

last night i had to smoke all by myself like a fuckin loser, he says. 

that's your cue to say, you are a fuckin loser, but you don't take it.

he offers you a drag on his own cigarette, and you shake your head. you want it bad, but you can’t. you all but smoked yourself to death between crises yesterday, and you’re trying to convince yourself now that giving it up will somehow fix things. 

but nothing will be fixed, and it’s not your responsibility anyhow. this is not your city. you’ve felt that acutely of late, as each of your last links to it is broken one by one. coke or the cops, what difference does it make? the caruso kid didn’t listen to you, didn’t listen to anyone, and once his infection got bad enough, his wife called an ambulance. it’ll be the cops for him if he survives, and his father after that, the next domino to fall. you yourself are somewhere in that long line, just waiting for your turn. 

work sucks, huh, richie says. 

you look over at him to find that he’s already looking back at you, a little sleepy but not good enough an actor to hide the keenness in his observing eyes. it’s dangerous that he noticed you were gone and it’s dangerous that he’s noticing you now, but it feels really, really fucking good. 

yeah, you say. i thank god every day that i am a woman of leisure.

he laughs. well, i’m just grateful that you allow yourself to associate out with me, you know. me in my rags and you in your pearls and finery. he gestures at your sweatpants and gigantic parka.

once my tiara’s back from the cleaner’s, it’s over for you, you say.

sure, and i’ll be crying my eyes out in a pint of cherry chocolate chip. 

with that, he launches into a long, winding tale about the shenanigans he pulled at the beef today, installment nine hundred and seventeen of his neverending battle with a guy named fak. you’re not following, but you’re not trying to follow particularly hard, either. you’re too tired, and you’ve got other shit on your mind.

that’s the closest richie has gotten to mentioning your job in weeks. 

used to be that he’d poke around with dogged persistence, as though he thought he could needle you into submission. he asked after your boss’s health, your credit score, your childhood high school. he complained he had to take a shit or that it was too cold out to stand around. all that. anything to invade, get inside, get a little more information. 

michael was like that, too. the difference between the two is that michael won. conquered you, most if not all of your secrets, and fell asleep in your bed long before even a month had passed. but richie’s been at it for a few months now and he seems to have given up. he doesn’t know your job, your last name, or your phone number. he could pick you out of a lineup but he could never track you down. and he’s decided to let that go.

it’s just as well. you’ve got leftover dim sum in the minifridge right now, and if he pushed hard enough, you’re pretty sure you’d take him up to share it. siu mai re-steamed and slices of lo bak goh re-fried in hot oil in a pan, savory and delicious, nothing better. you can’t cook, but you’d still feed him well if given half the chance. you’d arrange the table with takeout napkins and your only two sets of matching cutlery, you’d—

the real richie rudely interrupts your thoughts. 

you’re not even listening to me, are you, he says. 

no, i’m not, you admit without an ounce of compunction.

just like everyone else, hey? fan-tastic. there’s a real bite to the way he breaks the word in half.

you look at him, startled and stung. don’t be such a fucking baby.

man, fuck you, he says. real anger, rocketing out from his chest. 

fuck you! you stare at him, legitimately astonished. maybe it’s your fault for not paying attention, but you really have no idea where this is coming from. you’ve been good. maybe your mind strayed for a while tonight, but what about every other night? you’ve always listened, or at least pretended to listen, to the travails of his divorce, his money problems, his insane workplace, his dysfunctional quasi-adopted family. and there’s a hell of a lot of it. you’ve been really fucking good!

apparently, not only has he not noticed this, but he thinks he’s entitled to even more.

you say, what do you expect here when you’re going on for eons like fucking always. do you think this is fun for me?

well, someone has to talk since you won’t say shit about shit with that paranoid secret agent—

oh, fuck. something about the way richie cuts himself off. you dread whatever he’s got to say next.

he says, what’s that supposed to mean, do you think this is fun for me?

jesus christ. you fumble in your coat, only to remember that you threw away your last pack. i don’t speak in fucking riddles, richie, this is not that type of situation.

then what type of, like. his face wrinkles in horror and disgust. am i a charity project? 

this is like having a migraine, but worse. i never said… truly, what the hell is going on? how did you even get here? 

dredging up the last of your energy, the emergency fund, you turn it into bravado, your default response to an unexpectedly angry man. you give it your all cause that’s the only way to do it, turning and facing him head on, putting your shoulders back and standing square over your own two feet. 

what is this, richie? you wanna fight? you really wanna fight?

yeah, i think i do actually, says richie, alarmingly ready. i think i really fuckin do. 

fine, you spit. 

you tilt your chin up so you can look him square in the eye and you give him the worst you got, spiteful already, and then you start trying to anticipate his next move.

there’s a lot of things he could say, as it turns out, a lot of things that only he could say, because he was there for everything. he witnessed the aftermath and attended the funeral. he could have you skinned like a caught rabbit given half the chance, and you just handed it to him on a silver platter. 

besides, he has a right. he loved michael even more than you did.

the realization dawns on you far too late, and then the dread sets in. can he see it in your face? when he opens his mouth, you’re setting your jaw so you don’t flinch. 

forget it, he says flatly. he turns away a little, steps back to lean against the building, and in the shadow of the building all you can see is the shape of him. if you concentrate, you can make out his profile against the gray concrete. 

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.

at first, you can’t quite believe it. it’s mercy, after all, and that’s rarely reliable. but after his last cigarette, richie folds his arms tight across his chest and tilts his head back, eyes looking up towards stars that neither of you can see through the city lights.

eventually, you do start to think the mercy is real. you test it.

can i have one? you say.

richie doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches into the left pocket of his tracksuit pants, produces a pack, and hands it over. it turns out to be brand-new box of menthols. 

you look at it for a moment. your throat’s doing that thing again. he really did notice that you weren’t here last night, huh.

i don’t do charity, you say, after a second.

it’s fine, forget it, he says. 

i don’t, though. you don’t know what to say, but you know you can’t leave things there, so you keep pushing, and the words just come out. richie, i’m—i’m really a piece of shit. 

he looks at you directly again, but this time it’s a question. he doesn’t try to negate it with a brainless autoresponse like ‘no you’re not.’ he just listens, plain and simple. for a second, you’re at a loss. 

sudden and frightening as a car crash at the next intersection, the impulse flashes through you: tell him the truth, the whole truth. test him for real, watch that mercy melt away, inevitable as ice on hot pavement. teach him to hate you like he should. it’s like strong hands digging their fingers into your shoulders, the thought, and you’re reeling.

i… you swallow, smash it down, yank the car back onto the road. i hate ice cream and babies and long walks on the beach, i hate old ladies and libraries. you look over at him. i kick dogs every chance i get. 

there it is, at the corners of his mouth.

heartened, you go on, nearly tripping over your words. like, small dogs, richie. puppies. right in the head, i kick them. 

now you’re both smiling, and the relief is so fucking crazy. you’ve fought with him so many times before, but you’ve never gotten scared by it before. this is a first, and you have no idea what to do. all you can do is repeat, i don’t do charity.

okay, he says. okay.

you lean against the wall, and you’re absurdly heartened when he does the same right next to you. something about the symmetry, something about the weight off. you finally light up one of the menthols, and you have the night with richie back again. the breeze brushes by, chilly but not unbearable. it’s perfect.

what happened today? you say.

i thought you’d like it, he says. it was funny. 

go on, then. 

you wonder if richie might try to make you say please, but he doesn’t. he walks you through the whole day of catastrophes, from the broken toilet to the loss of electricity, from the loss of electricity to the fucked-up fridge, from the fucked-up fridge to the outdoor grill—

that’s really cool, you say.

he grins. right? 

whose idea?

from his crooked, exasperated smile, you know it wasn’t his. 

syd’s, he admits.

you raise an eyebrow. so i take it the culinary institute is good for something.

he scoffs. no way they taught her that. that—he points at you—was pure chicago.

oh okay, so we’re giving the credit to the city.

yeah, we are, cause it’s like—

the city, not the woman.

it was very chicago of her! that’s a compliment. don’t make it a feminism thing. his voice matches yours, a near-laugh ribboning through it like fudge in ice cream.

alright, okay. you’re smiling like a fool and you couldn’t care less. so then what?

so turns out fak’s connect isn’t much of a connect, surprise surprise, and it’s gonna cost us fifty-five hundred just to get the fridge back up and running. so he and carmy come to me, all hat in hand, and they’re like—shit. i didn’t tell you about the dealing, did i? you got me all turned around.

didn’t tell me bout the what now?

fak snitched on me earlier, told carmy i was dealing in the alley back behind the beef. i’m not moving much weight, just like. he gestures vaguely. covid, he adds, like that’s an explanation. please don’t have a fit about this, i’ve had all i can take from carmy already.

you shake your head once, thinking hard, processing. the more you think on it, the more it unsettles you. 

i knew he was dealing, obviously, but i didn’t know about you, you say. after a second, you add, richard edgar jerimovich?

jesus, he mutters.

is that right?

and here i thought carmy was going full mom. edgar, jesus fucking christ. richie’s torn between aghast and amused. where’d you get that from?

that’s your middle name?

yeah, but—

you hold up a hand, not rude, just asking him silently to let you finish, and he does. 

richie, you broke your wrist when you were twelve trying to play tackle football with the big boys on asphalt. at some point in your thirties, you started getting a rash every time you ate shellfish, but you still do it anyways, ‘cause fuck it’. and to this day you hate nightmare on elm street cause he convinced you to watch it with him when you were both way too young. 

none of this richie told you himself. it all came straight from michael. 

you say, how do i know all that, but i didn’t know you were dealing? 

richie says nothing, so you look over and find him watching you already. it’s an unfamiliar sensation, not being able to completely read him. it skitters over you like static electricity. 

you got a pretty good memory there, huh, he says.

it’s coke, right?

it’s just coke, yeah. was coke. it’s over now. richie shrugs wearily, turns away, and stubs out his spent cigarette on the concrete wall. mikey and his fucking secrets. i don’t know what to tell you. 

you can say that again. 

richie says nothing for a beat, then: mikey and his fucking secrets, i don’t—

okay, okay. 

he breaks into a small smile as you watch him, and then you keep on looking at him even as the smile subsides. a car goes by, and you look down at the pavement as the headlights sweet over both your faces, only looking back up at him once the car is gone.

the thing is, you really did think you knew him. what a crazy thing to think, when this is a mistake you’ve already made before with michael. you thought you knew him too. 

there could be so much of richie you don’t know, because michael didn’t know—or because michael didn’t tell. and yet richie isn’t a stranger. at any moment you could close your eyes and picture his face, imagine his voice. he’s in you that much, at least.

so here he is, through your own eyes. you’re determined to fix him in your mind, not richie from the stories, but richie as he really is. his hair is dark and close-cut, his beard too. his eyebrows are scant, and there’s a ridge on his forehead as if to make up for it. his nose is straight and straightforward. there are bags under his eyes, because of course there are, but his eyes themselves are as blue as summer, so blue they’re barely believable. that’s him, that’s his face.

then there’s the eternal black leather jacket, oversized and complete with unnecessary shoulder straps for all the bags he’ll never carry. he stinks of kitchen in general and arby’s curly fries in specific. he’s allowing you to stare at him, an indulgence that you can’t question without being a dick. he makes you want to not be a dick. all this is here, all this is real. 

he rubs his nose with the side of his wrist. 

you must be tired, you say quietly.

when he smiles like that, it’s almost like you can look down past a few decades and see the teenager you never got to meet. i’m never tired, he says.

he’s always tired, you realize. of course he would be. you only ever see him after his long-ass shifts. go to bed, richie.

that was too gentle for sure, because he says a little curiously, getting some real weird vibes off you right now.

you take one last drag, then push off the side of the building, gathering yourself to go. you want normal, don’t come to me. 

heard, he says with a chuckle. g’night.

goodnight.

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[ chapter four ] [ masterlist ]

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@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1 — if anyone else wants a tag, let me know.

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Appetites

(Angst and fluff and smut)

It's been five years since the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

Read Chapter One on Ao3

Read Chapter Two on Ao3

Read Chapter Three on Ao3

Read Chapter Four on Ao3

Read Chapter Five on Ao3

Read Chapter Six on Ao3

Read Chapter Seven on Ao3

Read Chapter Eight on Ao3

Read Chapter Nine on Ao3

Read Chapter Ten on Ao3

Read Chapter Eleven on Ao3

Read Chapter Twelve on Ao3

Read Chapter Thirteen on Ao3

Read Chapter Fourteen on Ao3

Read Chapter Fifteen on Ao3

Read Chapter Sixteen on Ao3

or read Chapter Sixteen below the cut

Astarion probably should not let Shadowheart linger unattended for so long. He’d spent much of the last two days hiding from Isolde, either taking a sentinel position beside Aurelia as she slept, or else also hiding from Aurelia while she was awake. His security let him know Shadowheart had arrived and was lingering on the edges of the estate, but he took a few extra moments before he went out to meet her, and in that time, she’d found a mark. Of course.

Not that he should concern himself. Isolde, for all her fragility, and for all the ways in which she’d so often been the distressed damsel in need of galant rescue—ultimately, he couldn't continue to take responsibility for her. He needed to let her go get herself into trouble that he wouldn’t save her from, eventually. 

Still, the idea of finding her wandering the streets of Baldur’s Gate in a few weeks, time, emotionless, and unable to recall who he was—unacceptable. He’d make sure that Shadowheart undid whatever she had worked on the poor girl before she left. He led the Mother Superior to his office in silence, a little bit weighed down himself. Shadowheart was potent today. Her very presence made him feel… strange.

They’d had no appointment, but he could assume that her visit probably had something to do with what had happened the other day. He fell into one chair without a word, regarding her with what he hoped was confident, skewering expectation.

Far too familiar with the vampire lord to be intimidated, Shadowheart turned away in a gesture that he strongly suspected was meant to hide her rolling eyes, and merely paced the room before him, pretending to be interested in the paintings and kneading at the old wound in her hand absently. Strange. He’d thought that well healed.

He was grateful for the distance, he decided after a few seconds. If she got much closer to him, the whisper of Shar might start to buzz a little louder in his ears than the whispers of the night.

“She’s sweet,” Shadowheart finally observed.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think you went in for sweet.”

“I’m not that picky, and she’s not that sweet.”

“You are picky,” Shadowheart laughed at him, but it was warmer than he’d heard from her in some time. “Predictable.”

“Uncalled for,” Astarion flashed his teeth at her.

“Reliable then,” Shadowheart shrugged, “means the same thing, doesn’t it?”

“Need something, do you?” Astarion wondered.

Shadowheart eyed the chair in front of his desk, empty. She swanned into it gracefully, folding her legs and clasping her hands together. “Let’s talk,” she suggested. These words came and left such quiet in their wake. No whisper of Shar, no voices of the night. The presence of the Chosen of Shar was especially dark today.

Irked all over again, Astarion remembered what he’d overheard in Jahiera and Minthara’s thoughts at the Eltans’ the other day. Their idle speculations that Shadowheart didn’t associate with those she cared about when they were already tipping towards darkness. Did she have some reason to believe his mood had changed, or had she decided she didn’t care about him anymore? Or, perhaps it was the goddess herself who wanted something with Astarion? Or, was it all a load of bollocks anyway?

When Astarion neither protested, nor began to spill all his secrets at her, Shadowheart let out a slow breath and took in the middle-distance before she began, “so, you’ve grown bored of your paramore, and she’s quite hurt, and that’s the end of it, am I correct?”

“Astounding insight. Bravo.”

“You shouldn’t second guess yourself,” Shadowheart ignored his sarcasm and seemed to take his words at face value, forcing him to do the same. Gods, that was one trick he’d never quite managed to pull off. He hated to admit it, but she was just better at this kind of thing than he was. Probably came very naturally with the territory of being a Chosen of Shar. “Your instincts are correct. You should let her go.”

“That is the plan,” Astarion narrowed his gaze at Shadowheart, unsettled by the uncertainty of what she was trying to get at.

“You’re so good at those,” it was her turn to be sarcastic and she risked the smallest wrinkle to her eyes, as she continued to search him. “But truly. I do mean to commend you. There are few people I know, who have not yet embraced my mistress, with such an innate understanding of the rewards one can expect from consummate loss. From letting the past die.”

That iced him over and set his jaw. Shadowheart knew better than to preach to him. He’d only had to tell her off the one time and she learned her lesson about trying to convert him. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the gods, especially not that vindictive bitch, Shar. What was she driving at? They regarded each other in total silence for a few tense moments while he considered how to respond. A tantrum wouldn’t suit—wouldn’t even feel good. Pushing back felt redundant. He could tell by the way she looked at him that the problem wasn’t her own memory. She knew full well that she was irritating him. She was doing it on purpose. Trying to provoke him? To what ignominious end? “Such dark wisdom,” he hissed, “whatever could I have done to earn the loving ministrations of a Chosen of a Goddess?” he asked through clenched fangs.

“The Lady of Loss accepts all who accept loss. Her shade embrace is a void. All will come to her, eventually.” And through her delivery, he saw, finally, conviction. She really did believe that.

But, he still didn’t think that sincere belief was the motivation to speak to him now. She knew how he felt. He’d lost quite enough. There was acceptance, and then there was fixation. What she described was the latter.

“We all get there. Certain souls have quite the talent for getting there more quickly through your own misguided attempts to find something that will fill you in such a way that my dark lady could not simply hollow you out again. On your way to oblivion, if you take up and leave behind little pebbles as you go, so be it. So long as the destination is utter absence. ”

“Is that how you see your beloved gith? A pebble to pick up and discard?” If Astarion wounded her with that little jab, she didn’t show it.

Shadowheart’s demeanor was still that of a patient teacher with a very dull student. “You could sculpt more heartbreak, for both of you. If it was your pleasure to do so. You could stop her leaving, say whatever you need to in order to convince her, lie to her, about how different it might be. With more time. With her sweetness.” He reassessed his previous impression that he hadn’t hurt her feelings, bringing up Lae’zel like that. There was vitriol in her words now. “I don’t think it would take much pressure at all. But what would come of it? You would only delay the loss of her. You should let me have her now. While it’s the plan.”

There was absolutely no way in all the fucking hells he was going to let that happen—and then, before he could open his mouth to say so, he saw her massage at her hand again and faltered.

Oh, gods.

She was managing him. And herself. He felt a slight twinge of embarrassment that he hadn’t picked up on the full extent of her manipulation sooner.

Whether or not Jahiera and Minthara were right about what Shadowheart’s personal rules might be—the fact was, she did have rules. Her short tether to her dark lady affected everything she said and did. She was powerful, but that power came with obligations. She could never say what she wanted to say. She had to say what Shar wanted her to say.

“You can have whomever you like, whenever you like,” Astarion let his tone fall into relaxed flippancy again. “I certainly won’t stand between you and a promising, uh…” he’d almost said victim, “congregant.”

“Well,” Shadowheart brightened ever so slightly, “I’ll admit, I was intending for this to purely be a short social call. I don’t afford myself to take many of those these days, but I can see now that my mistress guided me to do her bidding after all. And you helped prepare the way. Many thanks.”

She didn't need to twist the knife, but Astarion acknowledged it was so very like Shadowheart to do so. “Was there anything else?” Astarion tried not to sound too suspicious, but wasn’t there more? She’d never before stopped by just to look in.

Shadowheart shrugged, “I merely meant to meet the woman I failed to help you with, and see how you fared.”

“Solicitous of you,” he still didn’t believe her.

“We’re neighbors, after all,” Shadowheart arose from her seat, rolling her closed parasol in her hands. It was a disguised channeling rod, he was sure of it. He hadn’t known her to use one of those in the past. “I can see myself out.”

“Hmm. Tah tah.”

#

No sooner had Shadowheart quit the room than she sped up. She wasn’t sure why she felt such a drive to get out, to get far away from this place, but the feeling had been building for several minutes. Almost since the instant she was alone with Astarion.

It was the discomfort in her hand. It had been mild at first, so she barely picked up on it, could have easily dismissed it, if it hadn’t been so persistent. The thing had started to heal after she embraced Lady Shar completely, five years earlier. There had even been a time where she thought the damn thing was finally gone forever.

But the old pain, that punitive anger from her lady, never really went away, because her spirit was still so weak. Sharrans valued obedience above all else, so it often humbled Shadowheart to remember that it was her greatest flaw in her devotion. For every time she did exactly what Shar asked, no matter what it was, there were always dozens of small rebellions that were still counted against her. Rubbing at it helped a little, and she slowed her pace again, caught her breath, as she neared the exit of the palace. Her hand tingled, and stopped keening.

That hadn’t been so bad, she decided, with a slow exhale. Credit where it was due, she hadn’t said anything to Astarion that went against the dogma. The problem wasn’t the words themselves, it was the receptacle, and Shadowheart’s sure knowledge that saying those things to Astarion was guaranteed to have a specific effect on him, and one that was not entirely in keeping with Shar’s wishes.

It was fine. The girl was no specific target. It wasn’t as though Shar had sent her to collect Isolde—she was nobody, just a convenient wandering, despondent waif. Easy to collect. Shadowheart had been nearly instinctive about the whole thing. It was only when she saw Astarion that she reconsidered what she’d just done to Isolde. To the pair of them, really.

Astarion was not doing well, even for him. For all his faults, Shadowheart had to admit that she had always enjoyed their conversations. He had a way of being present and attentive that she appreciated. It helped that he was so easy for her to read, even—perhaps especially—when he was lying. Today though, she had seen him losing focus, guarding something. Successfully. She was impressed.

And Shadowheart hoped it was just the girl. He liked her more than he thought he should, and he didn't know what to do with that. Cute.

If that was all it was.

She didn't want to consider what else it could be.

Nothing good.

It was shaded and blue outside, dark enough that lamplighters were out. She could see them like fireflies in the vast view of the lower city below the balcony.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a small bodied person shift beside the same trellis she'd been lurking under when she met Isolde. A child? She started, but her eyes barely fell over the little golden-skinned gith when her hand suddenly spasmed, anticipating a bolt of pain before she felt it, almost warning her to brace herself. The pain was so intense that it blinded her, stopped her breath. She felt her knees come loose beneath her. She didn't realize she was falling until her body connected with the ground.

She was prone there until she managed to catch a breath that became a whimper that she had to stifle. She sat up, afraid to look at her hand. It was as bad as she had ever seen it, no longer faded to pale scar tissue, but angry and inflamed once more. 

Left in silence, she did not need to hear her mistress' voice to know how she felt. Shadowheart’s passive efforts to give Astarion a little motivation to mend things with his paramour had been noticed. She should have known better than to try and do anything clandestine that Shar wouldn't approve of. The clandestine was part of Shar’s domain.

“Forgive me,” she murmured.

There was nothing to see beside the trellis any longer. Shadowheart was certain she hadn't imagined the child.

#

After the office door clicked closed, Astarion wondered if he really ought to just let Shadowheart go, but only for the few seconds it took him to decide that trying to make her stay was too dangerous an idea to entertain. He probably could force her to undo what she’s done to Isolde, but he could just as easily do it himself, without risking the wrath of Shar. Besides, there was a very good chance that Shadowheart had already done everything that she safely could do for them; she’d changed her course after battering Isolde and then let him know, in her own way, that he had put Isolde at risk with his pointed neglect, and that Shadowheart (and by extension Shar) had taken advantage of that risk by digging into the pain she was experiencing.

The emptiness lingered in the air, making it just a little bit harder than it had ever been to get up from his desk and leave the office. That effect of being in Shadowheart’s presence wasn’t always so bad. She had been a normal half-elf maiden when they first met, but as her power grew, so did the mantle of Shar. He thought she probably had some ability to temper the effect, but if so, she hadn’t done so. Not tonight.

Astarion felt heavy, numb, and wholly ill equipped to try and bring Isolde back from the edge of despair. But, there was nothing else to it. Probably the easiest thing to do would be to initiate physical intimacy.

Yes. Easy. Direct. But, perhaps, not effective.

The only way to combat the thick miasma of Shar’s emptiness was to live, to feel, to be fulfilled. Sex could do that, but it could also be utterly empty, something he was sure Shar took advantage of whenever possible. He had centuries of experience to know that.

As he walked down the hallway to Isolde’s room, listening for some sign that she’d gone back there. If he focused he could sense her heartbeat and flowing pulse just out of sight and through a layer of stone. He paused, considering his options. If he just strode in there right now, with no idea what to say or do, he would default to old habits, something he was sure Shar could use.

Alternatively, anger was something. Anger was a feeling, just as reviled by Shar as any other feeling that existed where she thought there should be nothing at all. If they fought, that might drive away the supernatural oppression that they were both experiencing.

But, a fight might just as easily play into Shar’s game. He couldn’t practically believe that he would keep Isolde out of the House of Grief by fighting with her. 

He didn’t want to actually hold her captive either.

That really only left one option and it cowed him to a standstill, to have a staring contest with her door.

He had to talk to her. Really speak with her, and get her to acknowledge and work through all the feelings that he’d so intentionally cultivated in her over the last few, silent days.

And he wasn’t sure he was up to it.

It had been so easy to wound her, when he himself felt so wounded. Between the revelation about her heritage, his unknowing contribution to her isolation and insecurity, and trying desperately to avoid thinking about the real reason why he’d instinctively brought Aurelia back, he wasn’t emotionally ready to talk.

Especially not to Isolde.

If he didn’t, he’d probably lose her. Really lose her. Not just in the sense that he wouldn’t see her again—that was ultimately acceptable. But in the sense that she’d be actually lost. He might remember their time together fondly, alone, and even that small comfort would always be tainted by the knowledge that he’d destroyed her. Shar would take everything, because he let it happen. That was what Shadowheart had been telling him, in her own jarring, “dark lady bless me” kind of way.

He shut his eyes at her door, and tried to quietly rehearse what to say. Maybe he should just tell her outright that Shadowheart was a Sharran��but, that had its own risks, maybe the strange little morbid raggamuffin would be more intrigued. Maybe, he’d upset her enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear his entreaty. It might be wiser to just talk about what had passed between them and to try and repair the damage he’d done. Wiser, and, if he was honest, less cowardly.

But, gods, it wouldn’t be fun. It would likely hurt, and humiliate him. Maybe her too.

He turned away from the door. He’d come back after a warmup.

He couldn’t just jump into this unprepared.

At the far end of the hallway, a fuzzy Alice froze, someone else—smaller, slipping behind her. One of his groomsmen? He seemed to remember one of them being lamentably short without the excuse of being a member of a small bodied race. “Alice—do you know if Aurelia is awake?”

“Ought to be,” Alice angled herself strangely, so he didn’t see the other person clearly as he simply turned down the next hallway.

He’d talk to his sister first. That conversation was going to be rough as well, but at least only one of them would be smothered under the heavy cloak of Shar’s ‘embrace.’

[enhaloverss]

Do you hate me? pt. 2

After a dinner full of gossiping, laughing and stolen glances between the Gryffindor and I, we made our way to the dungeons to go to our dorms, me following Violet because I obviously didn’t know the way. While we were walking, she was telling me anecdotes about the castle and the classes we were gonna share tomorrow, which were potions and divination in the morning with students from Slytherin and Ravenclaw and after lunch (the moment I was waiting for the most) we would have flying lessons with the Gryffindors. Not the wisest choice if you ask me, I don’t think after having eaten like you do on Christmas Eve flying is the best option. What was actually cool is that we were finished with our day after flying, by four. Violet told me it was not usual to get that much spare time so we should use it wisely.

Upon entering the common room, I immediately thought it looked amazing. There was a big fireplace surrounded by wooden couches topped by hundreds of fluffy blankets and yellow and green colored cushions. I just wanted to throw myself onto one and stay there until the next morning. The room was illuminated by candles which gave It a really cozy vibe. On one of the walls was hanging a painting of a woman, holding a cup of beverage.

-Violet, who’s this?

She turned to me, before looking at the painting.

-This is Helga Hufflepuff my dear.

She said to me, while putting her hand on my shoulder.

-She’s the founder of our house.

-Yeah I kind of got that with the name you know?

She laughed before asking me how I thought the room was.

-It’s cool, I like it. The plants look amazing tho, do you use magic on them?

-Sometimes, but nothing’s better then just watering them every morning. We’re supposed to do it in rotations but I always avoid it.

-I could take yours if you want, I don’t mind.

-We’ll see if you still think that after being completely soaked ten minutes after you just woke up.

We were interrupted by our prefect telling us that it was time to go to bed since it was already ten, and we still needed to shower and tidy our rooms. And one thing was crystal clear, we needed to wake up at seven the next morning, breakfast was at eight and classes began at nine.

We entered our room and it looked like the common part but tinier and with more furniture of course. There was two desks, one bed for each person of course and shelves to put our clothes and stuff on it.

I was sharing the room with Violet and another girl from our year, Sarah.

I was finishing putting my clothes and all of my other stuff on my shelf when she talked to me for the first time.

-Hey, I’m Sarah, nice to meet you.

She extended her hand and smiled at me.

-Y/n, nice to meet you too.

She seemed like she wanted to say something else for a minute but maybe she thought she could save it for later, or not.

-Look, I know you’re Sam’s sister and I promise I don’t care about it, I just wanna be friends with you, you seem cool.

I smiled at that, maybe not everybody was gonna be interested in my status more than my person.

-Thanks, and it’s cool don’t worry, it’s not like my brother’s in Azkaban or something.

Violet showed me the showers and told me that I could use it in the evening or in the morning but not both, so I settled for the morning, I can’t go to class feeling dirty personally. The three of us changed into our pajamas and went to bed. It was only ten thirty so I decided to get a book and read for half an hour before going to sleep. I picked one about magical creatures that I already started a few weeks ago. I’ve always liked magical creatures, observing them in Beauxbâtons was one of my favorite things to do in my spare time. I hope Hogwarts has as much as my old school. One class I know I was gonna enjoy for sure was magical creature’s care.

The next morning I was woken up by Violet’s loud ass alarm, that I urged her to stop.

-Jeez Violet, did you enchant that thing? Why is it so damn loud?

-I don’t even know myself, I’ve been trying to get it to shut up for the past year but I don’t know how to turn it off.

-Why don’t you just smash it?

-It’s a gift from my mom she’d kill me if I do.

I groaned before getting up and heading straight to the shower and putting my uniform on, a plain grey skirt with a shirt and of course, the famous tie harboring the colors of my house. I decided to also put the high knee socks because why not and got out of the shower. When I came back in the room, Sarah and Violet were dressed and waiting for me. They were both night shower persons.

The temperature in the dungeons was really cold compared to the inside of the room but it got better as soon as we took the stairs to the Great Hall.

There were already a lot of students inside when we got here so we decided to quickly sit somewhere before there was no space anymore. I chose to eat some eggs and a slice of bread, despite the stares of Violet, who was way more of a sweet breakfast kind of girl.

-Seems like we really are opposites, between the shower and this.

I pointed out to her, while she smiled before telling me the corniest sentence I’ve ever heard.

-That’s why we’re made to be friends.

-Oh my god don’t ever say anything like that again.

We were bickering and going back and forth at each other while Sarah was holding her tummy because of laughing so hard.

-By the way y/n, you’re born in December aren’t you?

-Yes, 1st why?

-Oh so you’re the only one who’s still fourteen you baby.

-Hey, there’s only a few months left before I’m fifteen, don’t tease me like that.

-Kidding kidding, we’ll do something big for you birthday I swear.

-Why am I scared.

-With Violet and her weird ideas you should be.

-Hey!

Violet suddenly got up and started chasing Sarah in the hall, leaving me laughing like crazy at the table, but a bit ashamed at the same time that these two were my friends. I was finishing my plate when I noticed a shadow on the table, right next to me. I turned around smiling.

-You’re done chasing each other?

But instead of seeing Violet or Sarah, I met none other than Yang Jungwon, who was staring at me, his gaze once again piercing my soul.

-Hum, hello?

He just stared at me before furrowing his eyebrows and finally letting his eyes wander somewhere else, coughing a little bit when he probably figured that starring at someone wasn’t the most polite thing, and finally carried on to his table.

My eyes were fixed on his back, watching him go away before turning back to my plate, confusion written on my face.

Violet and Sarah came back running probably from having seen the interaction from the other side of the room.

-What just happened??? said Sarah.

-Yeah what the frick was that about?

-I don’t know, he just stopped here, looked at me very intensely and then just left.

-Man that’s weird.

-Yeah, you tell me about it Violet.

I said while turning around, seeing him at a table with his friends, his behavior completely different, laughing with the biggest smile ever.

We realized it was already eight forty five and we needed to head to potion class if we didn’t want to be late, which we definitely didn’t want to be according to Sarah.

-Professor Snape doesn’t like Sarah at all, explained Violet, she’s really bad at potions and blows a cauldron at least two times a week.

I laughed at that while Sarah was sulking.

-I’m trying my best Vi, you know that.

-Don’t worry Sarah, I’m also not that good at potions, we’ll cry together, both from the lessons and Snape.

I said while intertwining our arms.

The door of the classroom was already open when we arrived and we sat at a table with two other girls, both from Ravenclaw. We said hi to each other and got our stuff out.

Minutes later the professor came in and explained really quickly the lesson of today.

We were gonna do a common antidote. Or ‘try to do it properly’ said professor Snape while eyeing Sarah, who just smiled in return.

The recipe was pretty simple and I was actually surprised at myself for doing it right. Maybe I was just struggling in Beauxbâtons, or it was just a simple one and things were gonna get complicated, who knows?

Violet finished her potion in first and Snape allowed her to clean her stuff while he was checking on the other students. I finished mine ten minutes later and I felt like Snape analyzed my face more than my potion.

-Good enough y/l/n, but I must admit your brother was better.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise at his comment but nodded and got up to wash my cauldron, Violet in the background trying to hold back her laugh.

-Your face was priceless.

-Does this dude always get into personal stuff like that?

-Yep, once he told Sarah she was bad because her parents probably never told her about it.

I tilted my head to the side, not understanding.

-Sarah’s parents are muggles.

My eyes went wide at that statement and I whispered for nobody but us to hear.

-That asshole!

-No chatting in the classroom, if you are done cleaning your cauldrons you can go you are dismissed.

We waved to Sarah on our way out and told her we were waiting for her in the corridor to go to our next class together.

She nodded and continued her potion, hoping to finish on time. We waited a little further in the corridor for her and started talking to pass time.

-So, what did you think of your first class?

-I would’ve rather for it to be something else than potions but I’m glad Snape went easy on me.

-Next is divination, I hope you’re ready because this class is something.

-Do you need to be high to understand what the teacher is saying?

-If someone is high it’s her trust me. By the way, I think you were too immersed in your potion to notice, but you got someone’s attention.

She wiggled her eyebrows at me in a playful manner and I scoffed.

-Who?

-His name is Cole, a Slytherin, he is a third year like us.

-God it was already enough to have one guy’s attention on me.

-You should talk to him, he’s cute.

-Thank you for trying to be my wings-woman but you know sometimes being cute isn’t enough, take Jungwon for example.

She nodded before turning her head back at me.

-Wait a minute, you thing Jungwon’s cute????

-I mean, did you see the guy, he’s far from being unattractive and I know I’m not the only one that can possibly be thinking this.

-You’re actually right, he’s pretty cute.

-Oh my god, I’m free, FREE.

We turned around seeing Sarah running towards us while holding her book in a dramatic manner, repeating that she thought she was gonna die.

-Come on Sarah, let’s go to divination, you can sleep all you want in this one.

Her face lit up at that comment and she grabbed our hands to run to divination. Our next class took place in the astronomy tower, a beautiful aisle, the tallest point of Hogwarts. I was glad to finally be able to feel the air and breath, after an hour of class in the dungeons were it smelled like rotten carrots this was heaven. We took place in the middle of the classroom, Sarah complained that she couldn’t sleep well if she was to close to Trelawney, her sudden screaming bothering her.

Professor Trelawney was a weird lady, but quite interesting I must say, I don’t honestly know if she’s believing in what she says or just playing along.

She gave us the work of “reading in the crystal balls to see and try to understand each others future”. Sarah fell asleep pretty quickly, tired from Snape’s harassment and Violet and I were trying to understand whatever we could of this class.

-Okay Violet, I see, hum I see…

She nodded, interesting in what I was about to say, her eyes showing excitement.

-I don’t know I don’t see anything except weird smoke wandering inside that thing.

-I had hope in you! Come on tell me I’m gonna be drowning in money!

-Unfortunately, this might mean that you are gonna end up really poor Violet… Sorry for you.

-Man, it sucks…

We looked at each other briefly before laughing, waking up Sarah by the same occasion.

-Girls, my dream was good.

She said sadly, us apologizing a hundred times before getting back at laughing at whatever stupidities we were saying.

The bell rang and I was actually surprised at how fast students were getting up, not even paying attention to the poor teacher who was trying to give homework. This class really was the opposite of potions. As soon as we got to the Great Hall, my stomach was rumbling because of the delicious smell that was lingering in the air. We opened the heavy doors and found a table to sit at.

We didn’t waste a second and got up to fill our plates with delicious foods. I opted for a slice of meat pie and sweet potatoes. I then filled my glass with water and when I turned around, I noticed that Sarah and Violet weren’t next to me anymore, but a few meters away from me, saying goodbye to a boy I only saw the back of, but recognized the green and silver robe.

-Who was that? I asked as they approached me.

-Remember the guy from potion class, Cole?

Answered Violet.

-He asked your name, seems like he fancies you.

Continued Sarah, wiggling her eyebrows at me and giving side eyes to Violet.

-Don’t pull that face, I don’t even know the guy I’m not gonna date him.

-If you say so… I’m still hoping to see some romance tho, from one of you two!

Violet sighed at Sarah’s comment, before asking her when she was gonna find someone. The pair bickering once again. Seems like the great hall was their favorite place to do so.

-Anyways, we should eat guys, next is flying lessons and we’re gonna need some strength believe me.

We all agreed at Sarah’s comment and decided to dive in our plates and get our stomachs full, but not to much, it’ll be better if I don’t throw up and embarrass myself in my first flying class.

The training stadium was great at this time of the year, a little breeze was making our hair slightly dance and was bringing freshness. We each grabbed a broom and walked in direction of professor Hooch, ready to start the class.

-Okay everybody, welcome to your first class of flying of this year, I’m excepting you to behave as well as to stay focused once in the air since accidents happen quickly. We are gonna learn how to do a roll. Miss y/l/n, I heard that you already learned it in Beauxbâtons?

All eyes were suddenly focused on me from both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and it took me quite a second before focusing back on the teacher and answering her.

-Hum, yes, we’ve haven’t learned diving neither loopings but we did learn how to roll.

-Perfect then, can you do a demonstration and maybe help students who aren’t comfortable on their brooms?

-Yes professor of course.

I slowly advanced in front of the group, not comfortable myself in giving a demo, rolling was something I only did a few times last year and I hadn’t flown on a broom since then.

I sat and quickly breathed out, trying to ease my stress before launching. The roll was pretty quick to do and I thanked my muscle memory for remembering how to do it well.

I landed back on the ground, silence overtaking the class before professor Hooch started talking again.

-Wonderful y/n! You fly great, you should start thinking about applying to be in the Quidditch team, 10 points for Hufflepuff.

I turned around to meet the proud faces of Violet and Sarah, smiling at me like proud moms and showing me their thumbs. I went back to them before thanking our teacher, and the lesson started.

Some students started trying, failing most of the time on the first attempt which was normal. All except one. I was looking up the sky when I saw a Gryffindor failing once, before successfully doing a roll and landing on the ground. Yang Jungwon.

Professor Hooch felicitated him, also giving points to his house before also telling him to help the other. The hour went on with me trying to explain to Violet how to do a roll without her breaking her neck and she actually did! I jumped in her arms when she landed, proud of her. Sarah on the other side did her first roll twenty minutes ago and didn’t stop since then.

-Sarah!!!

Both Violet and I screamed from the floor. She came to us, her hair in all places and her cheeks as red as the Gryffindors ties.

-What?

-Stop going around like that you’re gonna throw up.

She laughed and came back down, realizing that we were probably right. Miss Hooch whistled and the class was dismissed and allowed to go. Violet and Sarah were ahead of me when I noticed my shoelace was untied, I crouched to tie it back, telling them they could go again and I’d join them in the library in a few minutes. When I stood up again, something hard crashed in my back, or rather someone. I quickly turned around to apologize, when I came face to face with none other than the dark haired Gryffindor boy.

-Oh, hum, I’m sorry, I didn’t see that you were coming.

He just looked at me with an expression I quite didn’t recognize before getting back to normal and continuing walking.

-Do you never talk?

I asked him smiling even tho he couldn’t see it. He stopped in his tracks, and mumbled something, probably choosing whether to answer or not. After a few seconds, he turned back to me and came closer.

-What exactly do you want me to say?

I don’t know how to explain it but he sounded exactly like how he looked, if that makes sense.

-I don’t know, anything. Are you just gonna stare at me and go away each time we meet?

-Do you want me to start a conversation, to be my friend? Because that’s not gonna happen.

-Ouch okay, hum rude. Anyways, pleased to meet you.

And this time I was the one to go away, passing him before muttering a quiet ‘shithead’ that I hope he didn’t hear.

When I arrived in the corridor, I realized that I actually didn’t know were the library was. I was about to go full on exploration mode when I noticed a familiar figure approaching me. I sighed and mentally cursed, before the person was right in front me.

-Hey, hum, y/n right? We share potion class, I’m Cole.

-Hum, yeah. Would you tell me where the library is please?

-Yeah of course no problem, I could take you there if you want.

He said smiling with a weird look in his eyes, and I wondered for a moment in what sense he meant it. I was suddenly not feeling really comfortable in his presence.

-No it’s fine I’ll go alone.

-Sure?

-Yes sure.

-Alright, it’s on the first floor.

-Thanks.

I continued walking when he stopped me, grabbing my arm. What the fuck. I tried to distance myself a bit for him to stop holding onto me, and he did, thank god.

-I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me sometime, you know, get to know each other.

-I’m not sure I’ll have time for that.

I answered distancing myself again, trying not to sound like I was lying, even if I was.

-Or we could grab lunch together if you think-

-I don’t think she wants to see you at all Cole.

Interrupted a voice. I looked over Cole’s shoulder to see none other than Jungwon, leaning on the wall only a few meters away from us.

-Jungwon! Nice to see you again.

I honestly didn’t think I’d say that one day but I was actually pleased to see him right now. At least he knew how to read the room.

-Can’t you see the girl’s not interested?

-How would you know that? I believe you don’t have a lot of experience with girls.

-No need to have to understand she doesn’t want you unless if it’s five feet away from her. And if by saying that to me, you imply that you have experience with girls, sorry to break it to you but harassing doesn’t count.

Cole didn’t answer but just fixed him and I thought for a moment he was gonna punch him in the face, but the tension was broke when we heard footsteps approaching.

-There you are! We started getting worried when we saw you weren’t arriving.

Sarah said, before looking between the three of us, surely noting the weird atmosphere.

-On time. I said quietly only for me to hear.

I joined them and looked back one more time, seeing Jungwon going back to the stadium. I’m gonna have to thank him later.

-What was that all about?

Asked Violet.

-Why don’t we go to our room, we’ll go to the library after I explained you guys.

And with that, we were on our way to our dorm.

[187days]

Day One Hundred Forty-Nine

Ahhh, Friday before spring break, what a day...

I actually managed to teach a pretty solid lesson in World. It was initially a struggle in Block 2 because, before the lesson, there was a vocab quiz. Now, I give vocab quizzes in the middle of every unit; the format never changes, and neither does the flow of the class (students can study for up to twenty minutes maximum, they come get the quiz from me when they’re ready, they have thirty minutes to complete it, after that we move on), but today it was as if I’d never given a quiz before. Most students rallied and did fine, though, and the ones who didn’t spoke to me about doing retakes after break, which was the right thing for them to do. I acknowledged that the vocabulary is tougher and more technical this unit, so it takes a bit more preparation.

Anyways. 

After that, everything went well. We started the lesson by discussing the article they’d annotated yesterday about Cold War proxy wars. Students observed that the proxy wars had a lasting, destabilizing impact on several countries, and poured weapons into various parts of the world where they have remained, trafficked from one armed group to another, one conflict to another. That was a lightbulb moment for students’ understanding of current conflict clusters. So that was awesome. 

I told them I was going to focus on one cluster, in particular: the one in central Africa. I showed a quick video about the ongoing hunt for Joseph Kony and the remnants of the LRA because I knew it’d serve as a good hook. Some of my students were aware of the LRA from books they’d read, or from past classes, but most were shocked to learn about the group and about Kony’s atrocities. After the video, we read an article to connect the historical dots from colonial divide-and-rule, to Uganda’s independence post-WWII, to Idi Amin’s dictatorship, to the civil war, to the rise of the LRA. It’s a serious lesson to end the week on, but it’s one that’s got them wanting to know more, so, hopefully, we’ll have some good classes when we return from break. 

I was going to do one last big review session with my APGOV students, but only three of them showed up. So we went over the practice test they’d just completed, I answered any remaining questions they had, and then- since they’re all 18- they dismissed themselves, which meant i had the last 45-ish minutes of the day to wrap up my grading, send some emails, do all my other non-instructional duties. So I left without anything undone on my to-do list!

And now I’m on spring break!

[fearsome-series]

Book One [Book Two]

Chapter One | [Two] | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine

Laura bit off another chunk of deer. She’d never tasted deer before. Even pre-vegetarian. Did she like it? Or did she just have no choice? She knew she liked sitting here, taking in the sounds of the swamp. A hooting owl. A frog snatching a fly. A friendly growl behind her.

It was Summer, with Claire at her side. Summer jogged up to Laura and studied her closely. Leaning in, observing her cuts, now almost gone. Summer looked relieved, and trotted off with Claire, leaving Laura to wonder what that was about.

But who was that guy? That creep who ran off like a coward when Jessie slashed him? She didn’t smell him around. No one else, besides the pack. Guess he’s gone.

And then they’re in the car, and Emily and Alice are staring at her and they notice the blood. Oh God, Laura, really? She asked herself. You didn’t think horrified stares meant -

“Laura?”

“Yeah?” Vision snapped to reality.

“Are you okay?” Chris said softly.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be weird…”

“What?”

“Goin’ back to everything after the past couple of nights.” Chris said. “Going back to normal.”

“I guess?”

“You remember the play tonight, yeah?”

“Play?”

“The play? The play your mom wanted you and me to go to?”

“Oh. The play.”

“It’s based off Howard Zinn’s Voices-”

“-from a People’s History of the United States. That book you made me read ‘cause-”

“-the textbooks you read were written by some old white guys in Texas-”

“-who think that it’s okay to say slavery was good ‘cause it made the slaves Christian. I know, dad. You know my world history teacher was a Black Panther, right?”

“Really?”

“Literally worked with Fred Hampton. And I know who Fred Hampton is.”

“I know you know. Shouldn’t you be getting to class, though?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh, right. Have a nice day, Laur. And Jessie will meet me…?”

“At the play?” She quickly shot off her reply as she got out of the car.

She wanted to rush inside, but she heard a whistle. Summer, underneath the tree out front with her girlfriend Claire. Summer was wearing a green longsleeve shirt with a stitched rose in the middle with jagged thorns, covered by a gray jacket, and a blue skirt over jeans, and was leaning against the tree; Claire wore a sky blue shirt with the name of a summer theater camp on it and dark pants, and sat at the base of the tree.

Laura half-heartedly waved. “Uh, hi. Good-”

“Jesus, Laura, are you like…are you okay?” Summer asked.

“Uh…I’m…”

“I think what Sum meant to say is ‘good morning, are you okay after last night’?” Claire said.

“Yeah. Yeah, that. Sorry, Claire’s like. My normal not-messed-up person translator.” Summer said.

“Uh…I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?”

“I’m fine.”

“A werewolf-”

Claire coughed.

“A…whatever euphemism we’re using this week attacked you, like, attacked you attacked you and you left covered in blo-”

“-covered in mud,” Claire said.

“Left covered in mud, and you’re fine?”

“Yeah,” Laura answered.

Silence.

“Okay, so,” Laura said. “I did come home covered in mud. And my dad saw me. And I had to tell my dad I’m a…” She looked at Claire.

“I don’t know either, sorry.”

“I had to tell my dad I’m a euphemism.”

“How did he take it?”

“Uh. Well.”

“He took it well.”

“Yeah.”

Summer put her arm around Laura’s shoulders. “You’re part of our pack now.”

“I guess?” Laura tried to shake her off, though she didn’t know why.

“You have to get to know your pack, then.”

“Uh…I’m Laura?” She said weakly.

“I’m…Summer?” Summer said, confused. “Shit. Sorry. Lost my train of thought.”

“Perhaps we can do introductions later?” Claire said. “It’s nearly time for class, after all.”

“Yeah…yeah!” Summer said.

“Yeah?” Laura answered.

“Yeah…yeah?”

“Yeah,” Laura said softly, waved, and walked into the building.

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

The soccer ball rolled past Laura’s feet, flecked with grass and mud. Laura kicked it off...somewhere. The thick morning fog devoured the ball.

Alice emerged from the fog. Laura quickly said hi.

“Hey. You cold?” They had to throw on their gym gear - a t-shirt and shorts - even if fall started early.

“Yeah. Having gym first is traaaaash.”

Alice laughed politely. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you that if you want to come to a meeting tonight to kind of initiate you into the pack, well, they’re hosting one tonight.”

“Tonight? An initiation tonight?”

“Oh yeah. We were supposed to tell you earlier but we were distracted by all the...y’know…” Alice glanced away.

“Haha, y...yeah...I don’t know. I kinda have something I can’t ditch. But uh, where is it?”

“Wulver. ‘Bout five thirty.”

“That’s close to where I’ll be, but I don’t think I can sneak out again.”

“I get it. We can do it whenever you’re up for it.”

“You’re just initiating me right away?”

“Summer vouched for you.”

“Yeah, I mean...I don’t know what I mean. Did you have one?”

“I put mine off forever.”

“Why?”

“Hard to find the time. Though...I wasn’t ready, even when I had the time. I hadn’t had a pack before, and I guess goin’ through a whole ceremony would’ve made it feel too real, y’know?”

“Feel real?”

“You don’t find yourself wondering still if it’s all really happenin’?”

“Yeah, but it’s only been two nights for me. It doesn’t…how long have you been with? You still…?”

“It’s been a while,” Alice said simply.

“That meeting for me to get to know everybody, is it only for euphemisms?”

“Only for what?”

“For…forget it.”

“D’you wanna bring your ferret? Where’s that little guy anyway?”

“My locker. But I don’t mean my...uh, companion animal. I mean I’d feel more comfortable with a friend. ‘Cause I got kinda overwhelmed last night.”

“I don’t think they’d be happy if you brought someone along.”

“Even Manuel?”

“You can ask around to see if everyone’s okay with it, but…they may not be.”

The ball bounced back through the fog. Alice kicked it away as quickly as it appeared.

“But, like, he already knows?”

Alice sighed. “You need to be more cautious.”

“He told me about…about euphemisms, though.”

“Why are you talking about English class?”

“About…” She leaned in and whispered. “Werewolves.”

“Oh, werewolves!” Alice said loudly, then quieted down. “It’s not up to me.”

“Fine. You know, I’m talking to Jessie tonight. She’s talking to my dad, I mean.”

“You’re telling them already?”

“GENIE’S KINDA OUT OF THE BOTTLE, ALICE.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to tell mine…”

Laura kicked grass. “You know, I never noticed you were even in this class before.”

“You too,” Alice said back.

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

As they filed out of the soccer field and back to the school, a tall girl approached them. She was wearing a green KING HIGH BOBCATS hoodie; she had brown skin with freckles, and dark hair in dreadlocks, with the tips dyed a dark red. She was gangly, and looking around like she didn’t quite know what to do with her hands.

She was also a werewolf. Laura’s nose knew that for certain.

“Hi,” she said. “I didn’t get to say hi last night.”

Oh. One of the faces in the blur of the gym. “Me either. Obviously. ‘Cause you can’t say hi if the other person doesn’t say hi. Unless you say it after them and they, like, don’t hear.”

“That’s…that’s true.” She scratched her arm with her other arm. “My name’s Sam.”

“Laura.”

“I don’t spend time with the pack that much.”

“Me either. Wait. Obviously, again. ‘Cause I’ve only been a euphemism for a couple days.”

“Dogwalker.”

“Huh?”

“The euphemism this week is dogwalker. We’re pretending we’re walking our neighbor’s dogs.”

“Oh,” said Alice.

“Do any of you check the group chat?”

“There’s a group chat?” Laura asked.

“Yeah. Maybe another dogwalker will invite you. I’ve got to get to class though, later,” Sam said.

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

Claire texted Summer.

      Thank you for the deer

Don’t mention it

Like really

      Parents still believe werewolves don’t need to eat meat?

They never stopped

      It’s like those people who make their dogs go vegan

Yeah but I’m the dog!

      But what do they eat when they go out, then?

They don’t go out anymore

Not since I was a pup

      Pup 😆

Well yeah

Being born under a full moon makes things WEIRD

That’s why I’m so clumsy

Why i’m so

AWKWARD and UNFITTING of this body

I never got used to being a weird monkey most of the month

      What about your sister?

She got to be born human

      Surrounded by werewolves

Still

It was so much worse for me

What do you think we should do about last night

We saw something unusual

Besides Laura, A. being a werewolf, and B. getting attacked by some psycho with blood all over his face?

      A lone psycho

MAYBE

THE lone psycho

OR

You know the legends

      Jessie will take care of it

What’s up with that creep CRACKING DEER SKULLS and painting with blood

Is it some weird ritual shit

Jessie’s a Weird Ritual Shit knower

She’s a witch and shit

They’ll know

      Summer

      You’re a witch

Not THAT kind of witch

I know zero Weird Shit

I just shoplift spellbooks from Barnes & Noble

      Well, if she’s the only weird shit knower we know...

It is Weird Shit (™)

Only Weird Shit (™)

And Jessie will clear it all up

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

Laura’s phone buzzed. Some stranger calling again. She rejected it. Laura wove her way towards world history - one of her favorite classes, due to its teacher, Mr. Rivers, who asked them to ditch the textbook day 1 and be “deprogrammed”. It ruled. No one else would teach her about how Egypt discovered electricity, or sailed to America. She took out her phone to text Manuel.

      Werewolf initiation tonight

Werewolf Initiation

      Werewolf initiation

I think I believe you maybe

      Why would I lie

OK I know how you can prove it

Werewolf selfie

      I’d have to wait a month

      And hold a phone w/paws

      See my problem here

Yes I see certain difficulties

      I know a way to prove it

      Come with me tonight

But I’m pretty sure I’m not a werewolf

Is that ok

      I think it is

      I’ll have to ask but

      It’s at Wulver at 5:30

      Not 100% I can go

      Stupid play

Wulver

      Community center on the Isthmus

I think I’ll go as long as it’s okay with the werewolves

      It’s okay with this werewolf

      They’re friendly they don’t bite

      I mean they do

      But not you

Ok I think I’ll be there if it’s okay

      It’ll be okay

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

“What’s with the hoodie?” Alice asked.

Emily walked beside the chain link fence around the tennis and basketball courts, a thick purple hoodie zipped up tight. “It’s cold.”

“It ain’t that cold. You’re planning something.”

“No I’m not.”

“You got something ironic at the thrift store and you’re waiting -”

“No I’m not!” Emily laughed. “I did not get something ironic at Ragstock. I do not plan to reveal it at just the right time to inflict psychic damage on everyone around me. I do not plan to then sell it to some Millennial hipster online.”

“Is it to prank Laura?”

“Why would I prank Laura?”

“She’s new. She’s the rookie.”

“Rookie? Lycanthropy isn’t a sport, Al. We’re not athletic enough. Besides, did we prank you when you were new?”

“No.”

“You would’ve deserved it a lot more than Laura does.”

“I…what the heck does that mean?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What the heck does that mean, Em?”

“Laura fits our pack’s energy more than you do.”

“Well, I didn’t know being a dogwalker had a energy. And -” Alice kicked something metallic.

Emily looked back; it was a bike, lying on the path that ran up the hill and onto the street past the adjoining middle school. She leaned down and picked it up, walking it alongside her. “It’s probably good that you’re with our ‘energy’, though.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Have you talked to Maddie yet?”

“Maddie?” Alice unconvincingly forced a sense of false confusion.

“The girl in band. The tall girl with the brown bangs and olive jacket.”

“What about her?”

“You talked about her a lot when band started. You talked about getting to know her.”

“Yeah. Getting to be friends with her.”

“Getting to -”

“Be friends with her,” Alice said. “Heck, I could use some friends who aren’t werewolves.”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “Yeah, might be nice.”

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

As Mr. Rivers lectured about the rise of Buddhism, Laura quickly scribbled down notes - more attentively than yesterday. She tried her best to ignore the scritchscritch of the squirrel scaling the tree outside, the taps of twenty pens on paper, the screech of a moving desk. She groaned. It was hard enough to focus before her goddamn werewolf ears.

When they all broke into groups to do an assignment, Laura volunteered to go fetch something in the back, in a little area set aside by dividers that was used for storage. Storage of what was a complicated question - a different history teacher with totally different energy, Mr. Schanckl, the school’s only openly Republican teacher, kept stacks of old political posters and signs here for his American history lessons. Nixon, Bush, Nixon, Bush, Nixon - why was there so much Nixon?

Also back here was a tiny window. Laura’s desk wasn’t by any of the windows overlooking the courtyard, so this was her only glimpse of the outside. Of that squirrel.

She took a glance down. The squirrel was gone. Walking through the courtyard was…a dog? A big, black dog that scratched at something at the base of the tree, and walked down the stone steps, and then. Stopped.

It looked up with orange-yellow eyes. Looked up at Laura.

Laura waved back. May as well make friends with dogs now that she was one. What a thing to think.

The dog bounded off into the courtyard, and out of sight. Laura heard the door to the south wing clank open. Huh. Someone’s seeing-eye dog or something? It did have this weird-looking collar…

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

The man moaned but He told it to keep going, to keep dragging him down into the hiding spot, into the den. The man had been on a

bike

on that thing that spun but it got him off, yes yes he did, and He was happy, and all it wanted was to make Him happy, and when he was in the ditch He walked over and took out that little clear spike and stabbed it in the man’s neck, and he went to sleep and it could pull him the rest of the way into the ditch with the other one, and it went over to Him and He pet its head and said He was happy with it.

“You smelled lycanthrope,” He told it, “can you find it?”

Yes it can yes yes it can yes

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Nine-pt1) (Final)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, protected sex, jealous!oc, sensual touching, dry humping, oral (female rec.) face riding

Notes: The end is finally here! But no worries I will most likely do drabbles for you guys:) Thank you SO much for reading this story and sending so many loving comments. Enjoy this last chapter of ‘Always You’ and feel free to send me an ask to chat about the story, I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @hsneptune @betysotelo18 @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @bunnyjeonjk @surfacesanity @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19 @hardcarrykookie @fancycollectormoon

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous ---Next

~~~~~~~~~

December

Jungkook stares into his bathroom mirror and sees and feels nothing, absolutely nothing. He looks into his eyes and see nothing behind them. He tries to smile, but falls short. Does this have anything to do with the fact he told you he loves you but you completely misunderstood him? Yup, it probably has everything to do with that.

But Jungkook also feels like shit. He let his feelings become too overwhelming in the moment that he totally and completely forgot he has a girlfriend. So, he is almost glad that you most definitely thought he was just telling you he loves you like one normal friend to another instead of him confessing his deep and passionate feelings towards you. Yup, totally glad.

So, now he looks into the mirror and actually does see and feel something: Shame. Guilt.

And regret. Regret is written all over his face. Not regret because he told you he loves you, no. Regret that he didn’t tell you 4 years ago how he feels. Even if you didn’t feel the same he thinks he should have had the courage, instead he slept with you like a fucking idiot. But that is something he can’t get himself to regret at all…he just can’t regret that amazing night he shared with you.

“Bro! You have been in there for like ever dude, I gotta take a piss!” Jungkook hears Nick from the other side of the door, his insistent banging going completely ignored by Jungkook.

“Seriously man, I will pee in the fucking sink!” Nick threatens and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m coming.” He looks into the mirror one last time before taking one deep breath and turning towards the bathroom door.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook says as he opens the door with Nick already pushing past him.

“Fucking finally!” Nick doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he quickly approaches the toilet to release himself.

Jungkook walks into his room and pulls out his phone as he sits on the edge of his bed. He goes through his message threads, his fingers hovering over your name when he gets to you.

It’s been a few weeks since the trip to your parent’s house. He had such an amazing time. That Saturday your mom cooked one of her famous homemade meals…something Jungkook hasn’t really had in years. Your dad would casually slip in the word ‘son’ in conversation, making Jungkook’s heart glow. You laughed and talked and cried and just looked so at home the entire time, like all your worries were vanishing.

He knows you’re struggling with what to do…but going abroad? Were you serious? You mentioned it to your parents too while there visiting and they loved the idea…making Jungkook’s heart sink. They just encouraged you more while you were there…telling you it was such a fun, and great idea and that it totally suits you. This only made you feel more motivated…Jungkook could see that.

Jungkook wants nothing but the best for you…he just wants you to be happy. Your happiness is his happiness but how could he survive if you left? How could he go a day without seeing you? Or worse…a week? A month? A whole fucking year? He went three months without you and he spiraled pretty bad.

Jungkook continues to sit here, his fingers right over your name and he clicks it.

Jungkook 8:14pm

I have a cold beer with your name on it

y/n 8:21pm

:( I cant hang tonight, sorry boo…im hanging with yoongs and tae. You can come by if youd like to?

Jungkook 8:22pm

No no its okay, you have fun :))

Jungkook brings his phone to his chest, right over his beating heart and he sighs out in frustration. Why can’t everything just be easy? Why is everything so complicated?

~~~~~~~

“And I will be the youngest curator they’ve ever had at this museum!” Tae finishes proudly, cheering his wine glass with yours and Yoongi’s.

“That’s so amazing Tae.” You bring your glass back to your mouth and take a gulp in his honor.

“Proud of you, kid.” Yoongi smiles fondly at Taehyung and you can’t help but also feel very proud. Taehyung got offered the main curator position at the museum of art downtown and you three are at the record shops cozy corner celebrating.

“Anything else new going on?” Taehyung asks, he eyes both you and Yoongi. “Like, any new love interests? Job offers? Juicy drama? Literally anything.”

“Nothing from me.” You laugh, you and Taehyung look over at Yoongi who is sipping his wine with the biggest blush painted on his cheeks.

“Yoongi?” you pry. “Did something new happen with you?”

“Well…I wouldn’t really call it news.” He begins shyly, “But I maybe met someone.”

You and Taehyung share a look of shock and excitement.

“Wait dude, you mean like a romantic interest?” Taehyung asks, setting his glass down on the table.

“Yeah, like you have a crush on someone?” You smile at Yoongi and his blush deepens.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admits, “But they’re really nice and have been coming in the store every week and we sort of just end up talking…and they asked for my number—”

“This is definitely a romantic interest!” Taehyung basically shouts. “Did you give it?”

“Yes…” Yoongi takes another sip of his wine, his eyes sliding to the side. “Did I mention they’re cute?”

“You in fact, did not mention that.” You say with a grin. “I’m happy for you Yoongs.”

“I think I’ll ask them out, what do you guys think?” Yoongi whispers.

“I think that’s a great idea man!” Taehyung basically shouts again and you laugh.

“I think I really admire you for going for it…” You sigh. You wish you had that kind of courage.

“You know…” Yoongi sets his wine glass down, and turns in his seat to face you, “It takes a lot of bravery to open up to someone…it takes a lot of strength to admit when you’re wrong and to admit when things aren’t going right. It takes real courage to open your heart to someone like, romantically. You’re like, the coolest human being in the world if you can do those things.” Yoongi folds his hands out in front of him, he bites his lip as he thinks.

“y/n…you don’t have to be some sort of super human.”

You tilt your head in confusion…you thought Yoongi was going to a place where he tells you to go for it too.

“You shouldn’t always be the one doing things. Others need to form the courage too. You’re worth it. You’re worth that risk…that you may not feel the same. Trust me, I would know.” He chuckles light heartedly. “I think he will come around.”

“I don’t know about that.” Taehyung cuts in. “I want to believe he will but…” Taehyung looks over at you with pity. “…He’s…” Taehyung doesn’t know what to say without spilling anything so he decides to let the words die on his tongue.

“To be honest with you guys…” You reach for your glass of wine and chug back the remainder of what’s in the glass rather quickly before slamming it back down on the table.

“New Year’s Eve.” You say. “Four years ago. Something happened. Something major, he…”

“Four years ago, New Year’s Eve?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together as he tilts his head. “Wait something happened between you two?” you only nod your head at Taehyung’s question.

“Did Jungkook say what he wanted to say?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, completely shocked, this is news to him. But now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“Say what he wants to say? What are you talking about?”

“Huh? Uh,” Taehyung guesses it’s not what he’s thinking. “It’s nothing. So what happened?”

“We slept together.” You blurt out quickly, giving yourself no time to regret it.

You hear Yoongi chuckle from beside you and you snap your head in his direction.

“What? What’s so funny?” you ask.

“You thought I didn’t already assume that? That you two haven’t already slept together?”

“Damn,” you say, “Observant as usual.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Taehyung sputters out, quite fucking loudly.

You guess Taehyung isn’t as observant.

“We got kind of drunk, kissed at midnight and went back to his dorm and you know…”

Realization hits Taehyung hard. When Jungkook was pissed about the fact Taehyung slept with you it wasn’t just because he was some heroic friend. It was also because Jungkook has already had you and he knows he doesn’t like to share. Fuck.

“Holy fuck, y/n.” Taehyung closes his eyes for a moment, “Wait, and you guys didn’t talk about it after? Didn’t he have something to tell you perhaps?”

“What are you talking about? He totally brushed it off. So I got bitter and didn’t talk to him for a month. Now we just…I don’t know, we just…I feel like we are more than friends but less than lovers.”

“Makes total sense.” Yoongi adds, “You two are that but more than anything you two are complete and total idiots.” “Well, that we can agree on.” Taehyung grins.

~~~~~~

It’s the middle of December meaning it’s time to do your Christmas shopping! You, Trina and Holly are at the mall perusing around and trying to find the perfect gifts.

“Let’s do what we always do y/n.” Trina bumps her elbow into your side, with a smile on her face.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You respond.

“And what do you two always do?” Holly asks, feeling a little left out.

“Oh you know, we agree to no presents.” You say, “One less person to stress over, that’s our gift to each other.”

“Wow.” Holly deadpans, “You guys are so lame.”

“Or are we geniuses?” Trina asks with a grin, she walks closer to Holly and links arms with her, “But don’t worry Hol, I am getting you something.”

“Good.” Holly says, a shy smile making its way on her face.

“Me too!” you say trying to include yourself. “What would you like anyway? Just show me and I’ll buy it for you!”

“That takes out all the fun in gift giving.” Holly pouts, “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Ah, fuck.” Trina spits out, “I suck at gift giving. Just tell us what you want.” She whines.

“No!” Holly laughs. “Look, I’ll be back.” She gestures towards her left, “I gotta use the bathroom.” She waves at you and Trina and walks away.

“Dude what am I going to get Holly?” Trina asks you, her frustration as clear as day. “It’s got to be special.” She adds in shyly. Special? Now’s your time to finally ask her what is up with her and Holly.

“Why special?”

“Oh you know.” Trina’s sheepish grin gives her away. “I don’t got to say it, when you know.”

“Fair enough.” You laugh. “Oh!” you point towards the window of one of the stores to your right, “You see those mugs? Let’s go check them out.”

“What why?”

“Christmas gift.” You say simply.

You both walk towards the glass window and eye the mugs, there’s a whole bunch but there’s a mug with music notes all over it and you’re reminded of the record shop and your two friends. You walk inside and grab three of them. Yes, three matching mugs for you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Even though Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee, he can still put whatever beverage he wants inside.

You pay for the mugs and have them wrapped in Christmas paper! You got some of your first gifts done with! Now you need to find something for Jimin, Jungkook, Holly and your parents. Crap, should you get something for the rest of the boys too? You’ll be seeing them on New year’s…maybe you’ll get them all scarves. That’s easy.

Jimin is easy, you know he’s been eyeing this channel necklace for far too long and you happen to be able to afford it for him. Jungkook isn’t easy at all. So you go with something simple, a new pair of chunky black boots that he’s been talking about for months. Your mom gets a necklace with her birth flower and your dad gets tickets to his favorite sports team…cheap tickets, sorry to your dad. Holly loves penguins so you find a cute penguin pin for her purse, you think she will love it.

Shopping takes almost the whole day, you, Trina and Holly are seated in the malls food court sipping on a smoothie.

“I am so freaking tired.” Holly leans her head on Trina’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Me too, girl, me too.” You respond. “But Christmas is soon!”

“Are you guys excited about going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, my parents promised they would take me ice skating like when I was a kid.” Trina chuckles.

“I’m excited too! What about you y/n?” Holly lifts her head from Trina. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Going home, of course. I’m bringing Jungkook with me.” You admit with a soft smile, “My mom and dad love him, they practically beg me every week on the phone that I bring him.”

“You guys are such a couple.” Trina rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’re best friends! He doesn’t have parents to spend it with so he’s coming with me, is that such a crime?” you say lightly.

“No, no. Of course not.” Trina rolls her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys get together during your trip.”

“Need I remind you he has a girlfriend?”

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook slides his dick in and out of Vanessa as she clenches around him, he holds her body up as he fucks her from behind. He’s been at it for a while but…

“I’m going to come!” She moans out, “Please tell me you’re close!”

“I—I” Jungkook tries fucking her faster and harder as she comes undone. But Jungkook is still trying, he’s fucking struggling. He screws his eyes shut and thrusts into Vanessa at a fast and hard rate but nothing is working.

“Sorry…sorry.” Jungkook begins to slow down, “I can’t. I just can’t” He admits, totally defeated. He’s tired. He eventually comes to a stop, and pulls out.

“I’m sorry Vanessa.” He says quietly, “It’s not you, I promise.” His voice is hoarse.

Vanessa stands and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up, when she returns she sees Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants back on.

“It’s okay, Jungkookie.” Vanessa’s smooth voice doesn’t waver as she speaks, “It happens.”

Jungkook runs his hands down his tired face before looking up at Vanessa, his eyes slightly watery.

“This isn’t fair for you, I should be able to fucking come.” He grits out. “At the fucking least.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“How are you so calm about this? Hm?”

Vanessa sits on the edge of the bed next to Jungkook, she breathes in and out before raising her head to speak to him.

“He wants to get back together with me, you know.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at her words. She couldn’t be talking about her ex, could she?

“Vanessa—”

“It’s okay. I said I no. Somehow I feel okay.” She smiles at him, it isn’t one of those coy or secretive smiles she mostly hands out but a real genuine smile.

“I think I just feel good that he wants me again but now I have the upper hand, you know? I’m the one with power.”

“You told him no?”

“And not even because I am supposed to be your girlfriend…but because I decided I need to respect myself. You’re right…what I was doing…it wasn’t healthy.” She admits, she shakes her head to rid herself of her bangs that keep falling in her eyes.

“I…I’m proud of you.”

“I want to be proud of you too.” She whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she says quietly, “You’ll see eventually.”

“What does that me—”

“Let’s take a small break.” Vanessa tilts her head to get a quick look at him, “Just until New Year’s.”

“Vanessa—”

“We just need some time to like, miss each other? You know?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “You mean, break up?”

“Just a break. But technically yes, we aren’t together in the meantime.”

“Why?” Jungkook stands up, “We can make this work Vanessa.”

“Please stop.” Vanessa says more sternly. “It’s what I want. Just until New Year’s.”

Jungkook paces back and forth with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t understand why she wants this? Because he couldn’t come? All because of that? He stops pacing to stare at her and she’s already looking up at him with a sickingly sweet smile.

“Fine.” He says. “If that’s—that’s what you want.” He clears his throat and tries smiling for her, she all but nods her head.

~~~~~~~

“You ready?” you ask Jungkook when he walks up to your car. You came to pick him up, insisting that you drive this time.

“Yeah.” Jungkook shows you his bunny grin and you melt, you love that smile of his. He sets his bag in the backseat and walks over to the passenger door and sits down inside.

“I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”

“Oh, it’s going to be a handful. You’ll be meeting my grandma, some aunts and uncles and some cousins of mine.”

“And I cannot wait.” He repeats. “Do you have my Christmas present here in the car?” he smiles cheekily, “Just give it to me now.”

“Yeah, right. You have to wait until tomorrow dummy!”

“Hey, don’t call me a dummy.” Jungkook pouts. He leans back in the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes.

“Hey, you’re not thinking of taking a nap are you?” You reverse your car out of the parking spot at his apartment.

“Maybe.” Jungkook snickers from beside you, “If you don’t want me falling asleep, tell me something interesting.”

“I think I want to work on getting a TEFL.” You blurt out, “To you know, teach.”

Jungkook���s eyes stay shut as he processes your words, he thinks to himself carefully—he can’t react negatively. He can’t.

“That’s nice, y/n.” He settles for. “You’ll like it.”

“That’s it?” you twist your head to look in his direction, he opens his eyes and stares at you for a few moments.

“Eyes on the road.” Jungkook closes his eyes again.

“Jungkook…you aren’t sad I might be moving away for like, at least a year?” You grip the steering wheel tighter, “You know I would be leaving right?”

“What do you want me to say y/n?” Jungkook opens his eyes and leans forward, “Want me to tell you no? That you aren’t allowed to leave?”

“Well…no. But you could act like you care a little.” You whisper out in pout.

“I do care.” Jungkook huffs, “But I just want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Jungkook quirks a brow and smiles, “So, you want to do me?”

“Gross,” you reach over and hit his arm. “You know what I mean. I just…I mean I value your opinion.”

Jungkook’s smile begins to fade as he stares at the cars floorboard. He zones out for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. While it is true he wants you to do whatever makes you happy he also doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

“Do what’s best for you baby.” He all but whispers. “I will believe in you and support you no matter what.”

“I guess I’ll take that for now.” You whine. “How’s work going for you?”

“It’s good.” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “The director is letting me edit some pretty important scenes.” He gushes. “I brought my work stuff so I can show you over the next couple of days.”

“Yeah? That sounds exciting Jungkook!”

You finally merge on the high way for your few hour trip, you got your ‘Chillin’ playlist on and a few snacks on hand. You and Jungkook chit chat every so often but you mostly jam to the music.

“Let’s listen to Disney radio station!” You hand Jungkook your phone, “Hurry, put it.”

Jungkook takes your phone with a grin and selects the Disney option on pandora, the first song to come on is Lion King’s ‘Hakuna Matata’. You and Jungkook sing your hearts out, smiling, giggling and belting out the notes.

A couple hours pass like this, your throat getting admittedly sore. But Jungkook on the other hand is still going strong, he is singing all the parts in ‘Kiss the Girl’ with such passion…you can’t help but chuckle as you listen to him.

“Phew, I am worn out!” you say, laughing. “But I see you can keep going?” you turn the volume down.

“Oh, we can switch it up…but to answer the question you know I can keep going.” He winks. And you know he meant that innocently but you can’t help but blush.

“Right.” You hand him your phone again, “Our trip is almost over…you can just put on a playlist.”

“Are you excited to see your parents again?”

“Well, I just saw them last month…but yes.” You admit, “Being home is always nice. My parents have been bothering me for weeks making sure you are actually coming with me for Christmas.” You chuckle, “They’ll be glad to see you.”

Jungkook grabs a hold of his ears in excitement, you can tell he’s genuinely happy as he sits here and smiles that smile.

“I’m glad to see them too. And I am excited to meet more of your family.”

“There will probably be misunderstandings…but don’t worry, I will make it clear we are just friends.” You nod your head as you speak. Jungkook just shrugs in response, just fucking shrugs.

“Isn’t that your house up there on the corner?” Jungkook points forward towards the house.

“Yup.”

When you pull into the driveway your parents are making their way outside, they smile at you and you wave from inside your car. You turn it off and turn to face Jungkook.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” He grins.

You step out of your car and your mom and dad are rushing to bring you in for a hug, they hold you close and you feel yourself feeling right at home. You begin to pull away and head towards the backseat when your mom grabs your arm,

“You two can get your things later—before bed, before bed.” She guides you towards the house, “And hello, Jungkook.” She smiles widely, “So nice you are here again! Let’s go see everyone!”

“Yes mam.” Jungkook says with a small smile, he walks forward and shakes hands with your dad.

“Nice to see you again, son.”

“Yes sir, you too.”

“Stop being so formal!” you look back at him, teasing. You and your mom walk to the front door, waiting for your dad and Jungkook to catch up.

The four of you enter the house, it smells like pie and cookies and warmth and you know, like Christmas. You hear the chitter chatter of your relatives filling the house and you want to smile. You can hear your cousins gossiping in the kitchen, you hear their children playing in the backyard (The back door is open), you hear your grandma snoring on your dads recliner, while your aunt and uncle quietly talk on the other sofas. You hear what it’s like to feel at home.

“Look who is here, everyone!” Your mom announces obnoxiously. “It’s y/n and Jungkook!”

First your aunt and uncle’s attention are caught, they nod your way with smiles on their faces and you head over to the sofas to hug them each. Your grandma stays snoring on the recliner and you giggle, classic grandma.

Next, your cousins are coming in from kitchen. Three of them to be exact, Daniel and his wife Larissa and your other cousin who is your age Manny. Daniel and Larissa have 3 beautiful children who are playing in the back, you can hear their giggles from inside. Manny is much shorter than you, she’s petite and curvy and really, really pretty. You go in to hug her first, she wraps her arms around you loosely.

“y/n!” she yells excitedly, “It’s been since last Christmas right?!” she asks, still holding on to you.

“Something like that.” You giggle, “Hi Daniel, Larissa.” You go in to hug them as well.

“Guys this is Jungkook.” You finally introduce the awkward boy, he stands here swaying from side to side waiting to meet everyone. He bows his head in greeting and everyone says their hello’s. All except sleeping grandma.

“Well, hello.” Manny smiles at Jungkook, “I didn’t even see you there, which is crazy because you’re like crazy hot—”

“Okay, Manny.” You try cutting in early enough, but are a bit late.

“Oh?” Jungkook eyebrows climb to up his forehead as he looks at Manny.

“I’m Manny.” She winks, “ You must be y/n’s friend, I presume?”

“Uh…”

“y/n!!!!” Your grandma comes up to you all, her sweet perfume filling the air around you. “You’re here, sweetie.”

“Grandma!” you lean in and hug her frail body, she smells like she always has your whole entire life, sweet.

“And this must be your boyfriend, Jungkook? I have heard so much about you, dear.” Your grandmas opens her arms, signaling Jungkook to lean in and hug her—which he does.

“Actually grandma—”

“You finally have a nice boyfriend, your parents have told me all about him.” she winks, “I am so happy for you sweetie, I think I can finally rest easy.”

“Rest easy?” you question, “No grandma you are mis—”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles at your grandma and she cheeses hard.

“You can call me grandma, dear.” She pats his back lovingly, “I want to hear all about you two. Shall we drink some tea together?”

“Boyfriend?” Manny asks, confused. “I didn’t know you guys started dating?”

“We aren’t—”

“Its new.” Jungkook cuts in. He slides his arm around your waist and you audibly gasp.

“What’s new?” Your mom walks up to you all.

“They’re dating.” Manny says, looking unimpressed.

“WHAT! Darling, get in here!” She calls your dad over, “Jungkook and y/n are together, together!”

“No we are—” you try cutting in but you feel Jungkook dig his fingers into your waist.

“THEY’RE TOGETHER?!” Your dad yells out, his excitement clear as day. You stand here confused as hell as your whole family starts congratulating you two.

“Wait, wait.” You try getting out but Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear.

“We can’t disappoint grandma.” He says softly.

~~~~~~

“I met my Roy at a party too.” Your grandma says between sips, she holds her tea in front of her face as she reminisces.

“Was it love at first sight?” Your grandma asks, wiggling her brows. “Me and my Roy didn’t get together for quite some time so I don’t think it was love at first sight for us…when did you know?”

“Grandma…” you begin, “Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“I knew only a few months later.” Jungkook admits shyly, he smiles at your grandma while bringing his tea cup to his lips. “I knew no one could take y/n’s spot. But I was content with being friends.”

Your eyes grow in size, his confession warming you up. You know it’s all for show but you can’t help what it does to you.

“I also knew after a few months.” You say quietly.

“Oh, how lovely!” Your grandma claps her hands together softly, “And now here you are! Jungkook…” Your grandma sets down her tea cup and looks over at Jungkook. “I trust you will take care of y/n no matter what, right?”

“No matter what.” He says quickly. “She takes care of me too.”

“And how does she do that?” Your grandma raises a drawn on brow.

“She is always there for me…she always tries to understand me even when I am in the wrong…she always tries to get to know me like she doesn’t already know everything,” he chuckles, “She always hugs me when I need it.” Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, “She really loves me and I can feel it.” Then his mouth falls open and his eyes expand a little, “Do you… love me y/n? Like—”

“Okay, that’s enough about us babe,” you cut him off, “When did you get in town grandma?”

“Oh, just last night.” She mumbles, “I—”

“So,” Manny comes into the kitchen, her v neck lower than it was 20 minutes ago, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “What do you do Jungkook?” she leans down into his space, one hand squeezing his bicep as she asks her question.

“Um, I work as an editor for a film company.” His eyes shift to you and you roll your eyes again. “What about you?”

“Oh? Me? I work at a marketing firm. Was hoping to see y/n there.” She smiles at you. “But guess she didn’t apply? Maybe?”

“I didn’t get hired.” You state plainly. “But I didn’t want to work there anyway.” You grip your thigh in annoyance.

“y/n is probably too good for that company anyway.” Jungkook says, his hand reaches for yours and you relax a little bit.

“Right.” Manny nods her head exaggeratedly, “That’s got to be it…” she winks at you and you give a half ass smile.

“So Jungkook…” she finally takes a seat next to him, her hand still on his arm. “Film, huh? That’s soo cool. What do you do in your spare time?” she squeezes his bicep again, “Besides working out, of course.” She laughs.

Jungkook looks at you in panic, his eyes shifting from yours to his arm and you just roll your eyes.

“Manny.” You cut in, “How’s Luis?”

“Oh, we broke up.” She says smiling at Jungkook. “Nothing to worry about it.”

“And what’s to worry about,” you lean over and detach her fingers from Jungkook’s arm. “Hm?”

“Oh nothing.” Manny shakes her head.

“Manny, did you ever take my things out of the drier?” Your grandma speaks up, “Please put them in my room if you haven’t already.”

“Speaking of rooms.” Your mom and dad walk into the kitchen, their hands joined together.

“What?” you ask.

“Grandma is in Jungkook’s room. So Jungkook will have to stay in your room with you.” She says nonchalantly.

“Hm? Okay.” You shrug while Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly. “Where are aunt and uncle sleeping? And Daniel and the rest? “Oh, we got a hotel.” Manny says, “Which sucks because it would have been fun to have a little slumber party.” She says in pout. You give her a tight smile and nod.

“Sure.” You get out, “Guess it’s just me and Jungkook for the slumber party.” You wink at her and Jungkook laughs as he squeezes your hand.

“Can’t wait baby.”

“Oh, you guys are gross.” Manny gags, “We get it.”

“Yeah, behave.” Your mom gives you a pointed look, “You’re still in your parent’s house.”

“Sorry, sorry. We’re just messing around.” You wave your hand, “Also, I can get your things from the drier grandma, I am going upstairs anyway to change.”

“Thank you sweetie.”

You let go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up, he looks up at you in panic. You’re leaving him here with Manny?! He’s not stupid, this girl is clearly not caring about the whole boyfriend thing but he doesn’t want to make a scene by saying something to her.

“I’ll go with you.” Jungkook rushes to say earning strange looks from your parents. “Be—because I should bring up our bags from the car.”

“Ah, yes! That’s true, that’s true.” Your mom nods her head in agreeance, “You two go.”

Upstairs is much quieter, Jungkook thinks to himself. Just the background noise of muffled voices and occasional laughter. You two are in your childhood bedroom with both of your bags on your small bed. You are digging through your own luggage when you hear Jungkook clear his voice.

“What’s up?” you don’t look up to see him, you continue digging into your bag for some sleep shorts and a t shirt.

“This bed is tiny.” Jungkook groans, “How are we going to sleep on it?”

“I suppose one of us could make a palette on the flo—”

“—No.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I just mean, you’ll have to sleep super close to me.”

“That doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you suddenly?” you grab the small shorts from your bag and set them on the bed.

“W-What? No…” he admits shyly, his teeth on full display at he smiles at his own bag. “I was just saying.”

“Will Vanessa not like it?” you whisper as you find the t shirt. “Because—”

“Actually we—”

“—ask her?”

“No, it’s fine. Trust me.” Jungkook brings out his own change of clothes and stands here awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“I do trust you.” You breathe out, “We can just turn around and change.” You offer, already spinning on your heels and lifting your sweater over your head. Jungkook continues to stare at you until he’s hit with realization. He quickly turns around and starts changing as well.

“You sure let Manny touch you however she pleases.” You spit out quietly. Jungkook freezes mid shirt lift, his eyes growing in panic.

“It’s not that I was letting her…I just…I didn’t know what to do…I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes even though he cannot see. “I’m just—it’s my fault. Me and Manny grew up together. The boy she liked in high school liked me…and ever since then she’s always…” you wiggle into your sleep shorts, slipping the material over your ass.

“Oh, I get it.” Jungkook slips on a new t shirt, “I’m done. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You both turn around, smiling sheepishly at one another. He’s wearing black sweats with a plain white t shirt and you in your sleep shorts you always use to wear around the apartment that use to drive Jungkook wild and one of his black t shirts.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He pouts, pointing at the shirt you’re wearing.

“Mine now.” You poke your tongue out. Jungkook pretends to reach over the bed to grab your tongue which makes you laugh.

“Don’t let Manny touch you again.” You blurt out, “I don’t like it.”

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he stares at you, he begins walking to the other side of the bed until he’s standing in front of you.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks softly.

“It’s annoying to look at it.”

“It irritates you to see another girl touch me?”

“It’s irritating when that girl is my cousin.”

“Why does it matter who it is specifically?” Jungkook steps closer to you, he pushes his hands in his sweat pockets.

“I don’t want you to fuck my cousin, Jungkook. Sue me.” Your straightforwardness makes Jungkook chuckle.

“I wouldn’t fuck your cousin, y/n.”

“Yeah, because you have Vanessa.” You remind him.

“Actually we—”

“—we should head back downstairs.” You try pushing past him but he catches your wrist.

“Tell me why it irritates you so much.”

“I just don’t like it, Jungkook.” You huff.

“Are you perhaps jealous?” Jungkook lowers your wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

“Why would I be jealous?” You yank your wrist from his hold and push past him, walking towards your bedroom door. “Come on.”

You basically told him you weren’t jealous but why did it have to happen that when teams were being chosen for this game night, Jungkook and Manny would get paired together.

The universe is laughing at you. Manny is…shameless. She has no problem flirting with someone else’s man…you’re no exception. You can tell Jungkook is slightly uncomfortable and not really enjoying the attention but still, somehow you are fuming. It’s not like he’s being exceptionally nice to her, he’s just not being standoffish enough to your liking.

“Oh, Jungkook!” Manny giggles for no reason, she leans into Jungkook’s space, just laughing away while sit you here and watch. He chuckles awkwardly, his hands messing with the playing cards in front of him. You hate this view. You thought any view with Jungkook would be a nice one, but you were wrong. Watching your cousin fawn over him like this is making you angry as fuck. As it should, right? Jungkook is your boyfriend! Well—not actually. But still! As far as Manny is concerned, Jungkook is your man, and she needs to back off.

“Manny, could you maybe give my boyfriend some space.” You snap, your voice cutting in through your family’s chatter. The room quiets down and all eyes are on you.

Manny looks all around the room, red creeping on her cheeks as she sits here, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to speak when you hold up a hand to stop her. Then you use that hand to gesture towards their bodies,

“He’s clearly uncomfortable that you are sitting so close, and frankly, I am too.”

“y/n…”

“And he’s too nice to say anything.” Your cold eyes look at her then they slide to Jungkook, “Which is something you need to work on babe.”

“I am not even sitting that close, jeez, you are as dramatic as ever.” Manny tries to roll her eyes, while subtlety scooting away. “And really? You try to call me out in front of everyone?”

“Oh? Should we talk in private then?”

“y/n.” this time the one saying your name is Jungkook. “Maybe we should go to sleep. Start new tomorrow, huh?” The tension between you and Manny too much for him to handle right now, especially in front of everyone.

“I think that’s a great idea.” It’s grandma. “It’s way past my bedtime too.”

“I think your aunt and uncle were just talking about how it’s almost time to leave too. Perfect timing!” Your mom chimes in, “Let’s all say goodnight.”

You don’t say anything to Jungkook as you peel back the baby pink duvet on your bed, you just stare down at your twin mattress with hard eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You continue to stay silent as you slip under the covers, scooting all the way towards the edge of the bed as far as you possibly can.

“y/n…” Jungkook pats in the last of his facial moisturizer into his skin, “I asked if you’re okay?” his back is facing you as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing his moisturizer back in his bag. “It was interesting,” (Hot.) “To see you all…protective,” (Jealous.) “Tonight.”

“I’m going to sleep.” You are laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t feel like talking tonight.”

Jungkook lays down next to you, his body so freaking close. He lays on his side, facing you. His right arm going under his head, trying his hardest to get comfortable in such close quarters.

“No talking, but maybe cuddling?” Jungkook whispers, and you of course hear it clear as day because he is so fucking close to you.

“Call me crazy but I don’t feel like cuddling with a guy who can’t even tell another girl to fuck off.” You shut your eyes. “Not in the mood.”

Jungkook blinks a few times, your words sinking in. You’re kind of right, he should of said something too but he didn’t know what to say. It’s your cousin! In front of your family! And he tried his hardest to lean away from Manny as much as possible.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re right. I should have said something.” His left hand reaches out to grab your hand that rests on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, you should have. But now I’m the asshole who called her out in front of everyone.”

Jungkook remembers it, and he darkly chuckles.

“Yeah, and it was hot.” He admits, making you open your eyes as you snap your head towards him.

“You think me being crazy jealous was hot?” you give him a look like he’s crazy.

“So you are jealous?” Jungkook smirks, “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as being protective over what’s yours.”

“So, you’re mine?” you turn to lean on your side, your body bumping into his. “At least until the end of this trip right?” you laugh, “I can’t believe you just don’t want to disappoint grandma.”

“At least until the end of this trip.” Jungkook leans his head closer to yours, “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” He grins as his forehead slightly bumps into yours.

What does Jungkook mean at least? And why does he always become closer and closer to you?

If you were to lift your head up at all, his lips would be dangerously close to yours.

“Jeez, how many fake boyfriends am I going to have this year?” you joke, keeping your head down, “I really got to find a real one by now.”

“I know the room is dark,” Jungkook begins, “But I still want to see your eyes when we talk.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You’re still mad at me?”

“Not really, it’s not your fault. I’m just still pissed at the situation.” You admit quite easily. “It’s honestly so disrespectful of her. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my man. You’re mine.”

Jungkook’s hand settles over your waist, he grabs on and brings you in closer to his body. He inhales you, taking in your scent. You smell so good to him, he could inhale you forever. Your words echo in his mind as he snuggles you closer. Your man? His heart races faster and faster as the echo gets louder.

“I’m yours, hm?” he runs his fingers down your side, starting from your shoulder until the top of your hip bone. “Does that make you mine?” He breathes out, “Are you mine baby?” his fingers dance over your hips, your shirt and shorts separating his fingers from touching your warm skin.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out, closing your eyes from his gentle touch.

“Do I though?” Jungkook’s hand lingers over your hips, until he is playing with the end of your shirt.

“Let me touch your skin.” He softly begs, “It’ll feel nice.”

Your eyes open in surprise, what skin? Where will he be touching?

“Innocent, I swear.” Jungkook adds, “Just want to make you feel nice.”

“Isn’t that weird?” you finally ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine.” You close your eyes again, “Touch me.”

Jungkook bites his lips when you give him the green light, he wasn’t expecting you to agree so quickly. Because what if it is weird? He just wants to touch your skin, no harm done. Jungkook leans up on his arms and tugs at the bottom of your shirt,

“I am going to slide this up a bit, okay?” he asks and you nod your head but you hear him chuckle.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, your eyes still closed.

Jungkook takes the material between his fingers and begins to slowly, very slowly ride the shirt up. His eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, where he can see you just enough. The shirt slides up your body, exposing your skin inch by inch. He gulps.

He lifts the shirt up until your pretty blue bralette is showing itself, your breasts falling to the side giving you a good amount of cleavage. He gulps again.

When the shirt is all bunched up at your armpits, Jungkook lays back down on his side. The cold air that spins in circles thanks to the fan is causing your skin to get goosebumps, your stomach feeling extra sensitive.

“Touch me, Jungkook.” You softly command. “I want you to.”

Jungkook swallows hard at your straightforwardness. His hand slowly creeps up to your shoulder, his fingers brushing against the material of the t shirt before he’s lightly dragging his fingers down your side. His fingertips hit your exposed skin, he lightly glides them down, just barely touching you. When he reaches your hip bone he dances his fingers lower until they’re grazing your lower stomach. His touch is so light it’s got your breathing getting just a bit heavier. He repeats his action a few times, starting from your shoulder until his fingers glide across your bare stomach. He’s right, it does feel nice. Too nice, almost.

“How do my fingers feel?” He clears his throat, his voice nice and low. Your eyes shoot open at his question. This is all innocent, but why does that question feel so dirty?

“They feel so good.” You breathe out, “So good.”

Jungkook smiles and continues sliding his fingers over your lower stomach, causing you to release a long, shaky breath. His touch is so fucking good, his touch leaving a trail of fire. As his fingers lightly skid across your stomach he leaves behind such heat. His fingers finally glide up, they barely reach right under your breasts. Your breath catches in your throat, his fingers so dangerously close to your tits and you want to smash your head on something. God, what it would feel like to have them being touched by his large hand.

Jungkook uses just his pointer finger to drag his finger down from the center of your lower chest until he’s passing your belly button, until he’s reaching your lower stomach again, his finger stopping at the drawstrings on your shorts.

You can’t help but release a long, quiet moan as his finger does that over and over. You clench your stomach muscles with each stroke of his fingers. Why does Jungkook have to make you feel so fucking good?

Jungkook feels himself getting hard against your thigh, but he doesn’t care to hide it. Touching your warm, soft skin feels so intimate and that moan you released? His cock needs to hear more. He grabs a hold of your hip, the material of the shorts in the way of your skin.

��Can I lower these a little?” he pants out. “Just a little.”

“Yes.” You feel your breaths getting heavier.

Jungkook slips his fingers under the shorts and slowly drags down the material over your hip, your panties sliding down as well. Jungkook grunts in approval, he thumbs your hip bone causing you to quietly whimper.

“You really like your hips and stomach to be touched.” He states.

“S-Sensitive.” You admit.

Jungkook massages the skin of your hip, very, very lightly. Almost like he isn’t touching you at all, like he’s just trying to tease you. And it’s working. You feel your breaths become more erratic. You keep your eyes closed as the light feeling of his fingertips begin to make you wet. You can’t help but slightly rotate your hips in circles as he touches you, and you can’t help but moan when he puts more pressure into his massage on your hip.

“You like that?” Jungkook breathes out, “Feel good?”

Your hips move faster underneath his electric touch, you start to become desperate, needing more. You finally open your eyes, Jungkook notices how dark and captivating they look. You reach forward until your own hand is at his shirt.

“Off.”

Jungkook looks at you, very confused. But he doesn’t waste another moment when he sits up and throws his shirt off.

“Good.” Your hands go to grope his chest. His strong muscles flex beneath your touch. You drag your hands down his chest until they stop at the waistband of his sweats, he throws his head back as you explore the front of his body.

“Want to touch you too.” You admit between harsh breaths.

Jungkook’s hand goes to the shirt bunched around your shoulders and tugs on it,

“Off too.” He guides you to sit up and he helps you take off your shirt. Your strappy bralette leaves almost nothing to the imagination, Jungkook thinks. The material is so very thin that he sees your hard nipples and he wants to brush his thumb over them. But he refrains.

“Much better.” Jungkook says in one breath. “Now lay down.”

You do as he says, this time you lay on your back instead of your side. You try breathing in and out normally but can’t help how irregular your breaths are.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “Touch me.”

“So needy.” Jungkook’s hand hovers over the top of your stomach, “My baby is so needy.” He whispers.

You reach up and caress Jungkook’s cheek, “I am.” You admit. Jungkook throws his head back, biting on his lip as he grins.

“Good girl.” His fingers lightly dance below your belly button and you whine. He glides his fingers lower and lower until they’re at your waistband.

“Going to pull these down…just a little.” His voice cracks as he stares down at you.

You nod your head and tell him yes over and over.

He drags the shorts just a bit lower, right before your pussy is exposed. His fingers lightly touch your new exposed skin, and you moan. The feeling getting you so worked up.

“I want to do the same to you.” You try say between your rough breathing. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.” Your hands go to his stomach, your touch anything but light as you drag your hands down with pressure. You reach the top of his waist band and begin pulling down until he’s catching your wrist.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Jungkook’s low, deep voice sends a shiver down your god damn spine.

“Innocent, I promise.” You mock, “Want to touch you too.”

“I think we have had enough,” he teases lightly, bringing his hand back to his own body. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Fine, cuddle me.” You say, annoyed. You turn to your other side, where your back is facing him.

“Fine by me. But…” He sinks down further into the covers to spoon you, one arm going beneath your head and the other pulling you in by the hips, “Remember what happens when we get in this position.” You feel his hard cock poke your ass and you moan out quietly.

“What happens?” you play dumb.

“4 years ago, you asked me to cuddle you like this because you wanted to get fucked.” he says easily and you choke on your spit. He’s referencing that night?

Jungkook is so lost in you, he doesn’t care anymore. He will bring up that night a million times if he has to. He loves you. And he’s starting to get real tired of the constant tension between you two. He pushes his hips into your ass, you feel how hard he is and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I also said this position makes me feel safe.” You play innocent as you bump your ass into his crotch.

“I make you feel safe?”

“You make me feel a lot of things.” You whimper, backing your ass further into his cock, it’s so hard and poking against you in such a way that drives you nuts.

Jungkook groans as he feels you circling your hips into his crotch. His hand goes to your hip and he squeezes tightly making you moan out.

“You got to be more quiet baby.” Jungkook warns softly, “We don’t want your parents or your grandmother thinking we are really having that ‘slumber party’.” He jokes.

“Then what are we having?”

“Just some innocent massages between friends.” He comments with a snicker.

“Oh? Is my ass massaging your dick so innocent?” you whine out, “I don’t really do this sort of thing with my other friends.” You keep your eyes screwed shut.

“It’s very innocent.” Jungkook teases, he begins lightly humping you. He pushes his cock further and further on your ass cheeks, he moans when you two find a rhythm. He remembers when he fucked you in this position, he remembers it well. How you sounded, how you smelled, how you felt. He memorized the feeling of you.

“Fuck, y/n…” Jungkook quietly groans out. He rocks his hips into you faster, and you hate everything. You want to touch yourself so bad. You want to slide your fingers down your shorts and rub your aching clit, you would like it even more if it was Jungkook’s fingers.

“Not fair…” you say in pout, arching your back.

“What’s not?” he pants.

“I want to feel good too…” you say, flipping to your other side, facing him. You scoot impossibly close until his cock is pressed against your lower stomach.

“Innocently, of course.” You throw a leg over his waist as your hands go to his chest to guide him to lay on his back. “Gonna make us both feel good.” Your eyes are glazed over in lust as you speak.

You straddle his hips and find the right placement in sitting down…his cock nice and snug between your clothed folds. You begin moving your hips until you have the right angle on your clit and you moan.

“Is this okay?” you breathe out and Jungkook nods his head quickly.

You begin rocking yourself against his clothed cock, he quietly whimpers at the feeling. Jungkook screws his eyes shut as his mouth falls open and wonderful panting leaves his lips. You watch him lose his composure as you hump him, you pick up the pace, becoming more and more desperate. Your clit is thanking you. ‘Thank you bitch’ it says.

“I—I can’t” Jungkook moans out, “I—I can’t do this.”

You immediately slow down, rejection sinking in. “What do you mean? You don’t want to do—”

“—I don’t want to do this with clothes on.” Jungkook groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “I need you naked. Fucking now.” He grits out.

You finally still as you process his words. Are you two about to fuck? Is this really a good idea? Again? But you are so far gone…you are so beyond horny that you are able to push your logical thinking to the side.

“Okay.” You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Take off my clothes.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen but he’s nodding his head so fucking fast it’s almost comical. He rushes to unclasp your bralette, your breasts bouncing as they are freed. He sits up, and you are graced with the sight of Jungkook’s mouth sucking on your tit. You arch your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened nub. You throw your head back in pleasure, his hand giving your other breast all the attention it needs.

“Shorts, Jungkook.” You beg. “Take them off me.”

Jungkook detaches his self from your breast and looks up into your eyes and smirks,

“Say please, princess.”

“Fucking please, please.”

Jungkook’s hands quickly find their way to your shorts and your rise to your knees to help him slip them off your legs. Your panties go down with the shorts and Jungkook couldn’t be more pleased.

“Oh my god baby.” Jungkook stares at you with dark eyes, “Your wetness is literally dripping down your inner thighs. You are so fucking wet.” He comments and you smile shyly.

“You…” you begin to say.

“What about me?” he teases, his fingers grazing your inner thigh, he wipes some of your cum off your sensitive skin.

“You did this to me.”

“Yes I did baby. And I will take full responsibility.” He guides your body up his own, you follow his lead.

“Ride my face.” He commands as he lays back down, his hand in yours still guiding you when you stop abruptly.

“W—What?”

“Ride my face baby.” He tugs on your hand and you hesitantly make your way closer to him. You stop when you are hovering over his chest, knees on either side of his neck when you start to get shy.

“I’ve never…”

“Keep going,” his hands go to your hips and he’s guiding you further up until your pussy is hovering over his warm mouth.

“Now sit.”

“Jungkook—”

“I said, sit.”

And you do, you lower yourself over his mouth…you slam your eyes shut, feeling nervous. But then you are met with his wet, warm tongue. You stay still as he begins licking at you, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You start to relax as the sensation fills you up, his tongue swirling around causing you to release a long, breathy moan. You can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth…the feeling even more spectacular. You try to keep quiet, you really do. But Jungkook’s tongue is quite literally fucking you.

“Ah, Jungkook.” You throw your head back, your eyes rolling all around as you ride his face faster. You feel Jungkook moan into your pussy, making you whimper even more.

You don’t know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Jungkook shows no sign of stopping anytime soon, his tongue working to make you feel so fucking good. You ride his face even harder now, your thighs shaking as you squeeze around his head.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You pant out, “I think I’m going to—”

You rock your hips as fast as you can as you feel your orgasm approaching, Jungkook’s hands squeeze your ass cheeks. He encourages you to rock against him even harder as he guides your hips. His tongue is laid flat against your clit as you ride him faster, you can feel how close you are. You thighs shake and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your orgasm hits you. It hits you so fucking hard, like a strong wind that’s knocked you over.

“Fuuuuuucckkk.” You squeeze your thighs together, probably crushing Jungkook’s head as you come. You breathe so fucking hard as you try to hurry to come down from your amazing orgasm, you struggle to rise to your knees, so Jungkook helps lift you a bit until you are rising from his mouth.

You inch backwards until you are hovering over his chest, when he makes you sit down. You open your eyes, and take a look at the man before you.

His entire face is glistening with your cum and he looks so fucking happy about it. He’s trying to catch his own breath as he eyes you, his entire face wet with your cum. He is fucking grinning at you.

“You did so amazing baby.” He breathes out.

“That was incredible.” You admit. “Want to…” you start off hesitantly, “Want to fuck my mouth?”

Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths before he slowly opens his eyes again.

“No…We should get cleaned up and go to sleep. Don’t you think?” he asks softly.

“Go…to sleep?” you ask, disappointed. “Sure.” You say kind of detached. “If that’s what you want.”

~~~~~~

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

It’s the next morning and you are trying your hardest to sleep away from Jungkook. But the bed is so small making it almost impossible. You didn’t sleep at all. Which feels unfair because Jungkook is next to you snoring away with a lazy arm thrown over your waist.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

Jungkook has a girlfriend but you and him…oh my god you made Jungkook a cheater. You are the fucking worst. You let lust win in this dangerous game you two are playing, you let it win and shove it’s victory in your face. You hate yourself. You feel so fucking bad! Vanessa may not be your favorite person but cheating is never okay.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

You wonder if Jungkook will feel these things too as he wakes up…you wonder if he will feel worse. Jungkook is a lot of things but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s always felt strongly about the subject because of his mom and dad. Will he be weird with you? Will he feel worse than you? Will he be able to forgive himself?

Suddenly, Jungkook’s light snores go quiet and his arm is tightening around your waist just the slightest. He’s awake. He begins pulling you in closer to his body and then you feel his lips on your neck. He leaves just an innocent peck and then you think he may be going back to sleep with how comfortable he’s getting.

“Let’s get up.” You break the silence in the room, “I can hear people downstairs.”

“Oh, good morning.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Why don’t we stay here for just a few minutes?”

Has he not processed what he’s done? Where is his shame? His guilt? His regret? You feel sick.

“We really should get up.” You repeat. “I’m hungry.” You detach yourself from his body and rise from the bed. You don’t even look at him as you grab a change of clothes and exit the room to head towards the bathroom.

Jungkook is left on the bed wondering what’s up with you? Are you feeling awkward after last night? He thought you might be in a good mood…considering your orgasm…but instead your mood seems to be sour.

“Great.” Jungkook mutters underneath his breath. He gets up too, going to his bag to change for the day. When he’s done, he grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom. He stands outside the door, softly knocking. You swing the door open with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you usher him inside.

“I’m going to wash up too…” Jungkook warns. He sets his small toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and takes out his face wash, moisturizer and tooth brush.

You nod your head as you continue to brush your teeth, toothpaste foaming at the corner of your mouth.

“How do you feel this morning?” Jungkook tries to make decent conversation as he applies his face wash to his face.

You spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth, wiping your face dry with a towel.

“Fine.” You spit out. “Just fine.”

Jungkook washes his face with water, and pats his face dry with a small towel, just nodding his head. He feels awkward.

“I feel fine too…” He adds, trying to add more to the convo. “Do you think grandma heard us last night?” he asks.

“Let’s not talk about last night.” You snap, “Can’t you read a room?”

You grab your things and leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook wondering what the hell he did to make you so mad. Did you hate it that much? Maybe in the past he would have thought that but now…he knows how much you liked it. Loved it even. Jungkook doesn’t feel as insecure as before, he just knows the only way to solve this is to talk to you. Communication.

Communication would be a lot easier if he was given a god damn chance at talking to you but your mom is keeping you so busy in the kitchen with your gossipy aunt’s chitter chatter filling every crevice of the room. You nod along, even laugh as you listen. Jungkook is in the backyard with the three kids, keeping them entertained as you, Manny, Larissa, your aunt and mom bake in the kitchen with grandma sipping her tea at the table. Your dad, uncle and Daniel are in the living room watching some show, clanking their beer bottles together in celebration. Today is Christmas eve. Apparently this is when your family does most of the major celebrating, you guys bake and cook all day, eat a grand dinner and open presents. And Christmas day you just eat leftovers and chill.

The youngest kid has grown quite fond of Jungkook, she tends to feel left out by her two older brothers. Jungkook plays with her and she has already formed an attachment making your cousin in law laugh at them fondly.

“Your boyfriend is great with kids! Lucky you.” Larissa winks at you as she rolls the cookie dough on the counter.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say plainly.

“y/n…what’s wrong?” Manny comes up to your side, “Trouble in paradise?”

“No, Manny.” You snap. “But I bet you would like that.”

“Girls, let’s not fight.” Your aunt cuts in while your mom just looks at you worried.

“I would hardly call it a fight.” You hear your grandmas sweet voice over everyone else’s. “Now how are those drop cookies coming along girls?”

“They’re coming.” You say. “If Manny ever finishes with the dry ingredients.”

“I told you I was almost done, chill out.”

“Girls.” Your mom warns, “y/n, why don’t you go keep Jungkook company?”

Your eyes go from your moms to outside where Jungkook is and you panic.

“No, it’s okay…he’s fine.”

“You know what?” Your grandma speaks up, “I think I will if you won’t.” She sweetly chuckles. She stands from her place at the table, grabs her tea cup and makes her way to the outside table instead, closing the backyard door behind her.

“Hi dear.” Your grandma nods towards Jungkook as he plays pirates with the boys. He is laughing and pretending to have a hook hand, while the boys giggle and run around. The youngest claims she is the lost princess and that Jungkook has to save her. Grandma watches with joy, loving how well he gets along with the children.

“Hi.” Jungkook says out of breath from playing. He tells the kids to keep playing and that he will return shortly, they beg and whined that he stay but he says if they keep playing he will steal them some of the first cookies. The kids nod their head aggressively in agreement.

“How are you this afternoon?” he takes a seat across from her.

“Why is my granddaughter mad at you?” She smiles at Jungkook and his face drains of all color.

“Um…what do you mean?”

“Anyone with eyes knows you two have been strange all morning and afternoon.” Your grandma brings her tea to her mouth, “Maybe Manny was right, there is trouble in paradise.” She smiles again, “The key is to talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”

Jungkook groans, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up again to speak but decides to just groan again in frustration.

“She won’t give me a chance to speak to her.” He admits. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Make the chance happen.” Grandma advices, “You’re a good kid, Jungkook. Even though you decided to lie to poor old me.”

“Lie?”

“You think I really couldn’t tell that you’re not really dating my granddaughter? I’ve been around too long to get fooled by something like that. But I see your feelings are real. So are hers. So why aren’t you two together?”

Jungkook sits here, absolutely stunned silent. He doesn’t know how to respond! Grandma begins sipping on her tea again when she lowers it to speak.

“Go talk to her honey. I want to see my grandbaby happy.”

“I guess we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Jungkook finally speaks.

“No, no. Keep going, it is quite entertaining, dear.” Your grandma chuckles, “Plus, it keeps Manny on her toes. Best if she thinks you are taken. Once she finds out that you are single…I fear for your life, boy.” Your grandma laughs out loud, making Jungkook join her.

“Fair enough.” He says, “But how do I…how do I get her to talk to me?”

“I’m sure you know her better than I do.” Grandma points out, “You’ll figure out what works best for her.”

And your grandma is right, he does know you best. But what will work? When you have avoided things in the past he has usually been the one to force answers out of you. Now is no different.

All the baking for the day is complete, you sit down at the table in the kitchen and let your head fall to the table top. You moan out in satisfaction that you all are finally done…how unfair that the guys got to just chill all day? Your mom has been cooking with your aunt for Christmas dinner while you and your cousins worked on pies and cookies. And they sat and drank beer. Typical.

“Hey.” You feel Jungkook’s warm breath hit your ear and you look up at him, his face so close to yours as he is leaned down to speak to you.

“Can we talk?”

“Nothing to talk about.” You lay your head back down on the table until you feel your arm being pulled upwards, causing you to stand to your feet.

“Don’t be a brat. Let’s go.” Jungkook pulls you up, and starts pulling you in the direction of the staircase.

“Let go of me.” She say weakly, “I can walk myself.”

Jungkook let’s go of your arm and instead reaches for your hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and you roll your eyes.

“I said, I can walk myself.”

Jungkook only shakes his head in response, guiding you up the stairs until you two reach the bedroom, you both walk inside as Jungkook closes the door behind you two.

“Now talk.” He softly commands.

“Nothing to talk about?”

“y/n…” he warns and you feel your eyes start to sting.

“We fucked up, Jungkook.” You blink back the stinging in your eyes, shame, guilt, and regret joining you.

“How so?”

“What do you mean ‘How so?’” you ask incredulously. “Do you not remember the events of last night? You have a girlfriend!” you throw your hands in the air, “You are a cheater! I’m the one you cheated with…oh my god…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words and he starts shaking his head. He tries walking closer to you but you only step back until your back meets the wall.

“We fucked up.” You cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks softly. You are starting to wonder why this dude is not panicking.

“I made you a cheater.” You cry. Jungkook walks closer to you again until he’s wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t.” he whispers. “Vanessa and I…we aren’t together right now.”

You sniffle into his shoulder as you process his words…not together right now? What does that even mean?

“She broke up with me.” He begins to explain, “Said she wants to break up until New Year’s but I don’t think we will be getting back together.”

“Why not?” you whisper.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Oh.” You untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms, “But you aren’t a cheater?”

“No.”

You sigh out in relief, a huge, long, heavy sigh. Thank God. You feel shame, guilt, and regret leave your body making you feel ten times lighter.

“So I have nothing to feel bad for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook smiles at you, “Now can we go enjoy Christmas? I cannot wait to give you your present.”

You pull on your hair, feeling nervous suddenly. Is he just going to brush past this too? Are you two not going to bring up last night in more detail? Figure out what it means for you two? Are you two just friends who occasionally hook up? That’s not what you want. What do you want? “Sure.”

~~~~~

“Dinner was delicious, honey.” Your dad says reaching over to cup your moms cheek. “I think I ate way too much this year.”

“Oh sweetheart, you say that every year.” Your mom laughs, “What about everyone else? Eat enough?”

Everyone around the table groans in happiness, nodding their heads yes and complimenting the dinner.

“Well, I suppose we should get on to the presents portion of the evening?” Your mom stands from her chair, “Let’s all go into the living room around the tree.”

Everyone makes their way into the living room, you and Jungkook being the last two to make it inside. You two stand here awkwardly, not entirely too sure where to sit since it is a bit crowded. Your grandma points at you two with a cheeky smile.

“Mistletoe.” She yells out. “Mistletoe!”

You point at yourself in question and then at Jungkook. What mistletoe? Then you see Jungkook looking up and his face turning completely red. Oh.

“We really don’t—”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you hear your various family members chanting. Your parents grinning like fools as they chant as well. Your grandma winks at Jungkook and Jungkook goes even redder.

“We don’t have to Jungkook” you whisper. Jungkook clears his throat repeatedly until his face begins going back to his normal color.

“No, it’s tradition right?”

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug, you begin to turn red yourself.

“C’mere.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you in to his chest, then his other hand goes to cup your jaw. “Just one kiss.” He whispers.

You feel all his body heat enter your body, his touch making you so fucking warm. You nod your head pathetically as you tilt your head up. Jungkook smiles down at you and leans in just a bit, his forehead pressing against yours. Your eyes go to his lips, they are pink and his bottom lip is plump. Jungkook leans lower until his mouth is hovering over yours and he very innocently pecks your lips. You wish his kiss had lingered longer but it is short but sweet. He leans away from you, his forehead still pushed up against your own when you surge forward and kiss him again.

You hear the hollering of your cousin Daniel and his wife Larissa, Manny probably pouting. Your aunt and uncle are giggling and your parents laughing but telling you to behave. Your grandma snickers to herself and starts softly clapping her hands together.

“I thought I said just one?” Jungkook teases, his hand lowering to his side but his other hand keeps holding yours.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You admit confidently “Now let’s do presents!” you turn to face everyone else.

“Agreed!” your mom yells out excitedly. “First, we have Manny from Daniel…”

The night continues, everyone exchanging presents. Your parents loved their gifts, your mom thought the necklace was very thoughtful and your dad says he would love to take you to the game with him. You give Jungkook your gift, he yelps in excitement when he unwraps his gift when he sees the boots.

“Thanks baby, I know I haven’t shut up about these shoes for months!” he leans in to hug you. “Now it’s my turn.” He grins.

He searches the tree for the last gift of the night: Jungkook to you. He grabs the box and hands it to you, a shy smile making its way on his lips.

“Here, for you.” He sits back and waits for you to unwrap it. Your parents and the rest of your relatives wait as well.

“Okay, here I go.” You begin unwrapping the box, throwing the gift paper to the side on the floor and are met with a brown box. You raise a brow at Jungkook and he just smiles widely.

“Go on,” he says, “Open it.”

So you do. You carefully open the box and pull out a wooden box—a music box. The top of the music box is glass with a photo of you and Jungkook, your heart absolutely melts into two.

“Open it, open it.” He urges excitedly.

“Okay…”

You lift the top of the music box, revealing its insides. Your absolute favorite song in the world starts playing and you feel the waterworks coming. This song means everything to you. He knows it is your favorite.

“Read what it says…” he mentions shyly. “There’s a message.”

I will always believe in you. I will always support you. And I will always love you.

You read the message to yourself a few times over and you start sniffling, a few tears leaving your eyes. You look up to make eye contact with Jungkook and he smiles. You close the box and slip it back inside the box and set it to the side, you crawl towards Jungkook and hug him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head into his shoulder, and you start mumbling your thanks.

“Of course baby.” He whispers into your hair, “I mean it.”

“I know you do…” you murmur. “I know.” You sniffle harder. “And I love you more.”

You, yourself aren’t entirely sure how you meant the words ‘I love you’ in this moment. You are so overwhelmed and overjoyed that you aren’t sure if you said it platonically or romantically. All you know is that you meant it.

“That’s impossible.” Jungkook chuckles. You slowly leave his arms, feeling embarrassed now that you’re crying in front of everyone.

“What did it say?” Manny asks, “You didn’t even share!”

“Let’s leave it between the love birds.” Your grandma says.

“Love birds indeed.” Your mom grins, “Well, Santa comes nice and early tomorrow!” she says to the kids.

“Are you sure about leaving them here tonight?” Daniel asks, “Santa can come to the hotel too.”

“Don’t be silly,” your mom says, “I will put them to bed on the sofas. It will be fine.”

“Okay, we will see you all bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Larissa begins packing up their things.

“Heading out already?” Your dad asks, “Well, take some food with you.”

You and Jungkook stay seated on the floor, as the rest begin cleaning up. Your mom picks up all the gift wrapping paper off the floor while your dad puts away gifts and you and Jungkook sit side by side.

“Did you like your gift?” Jungkook inches closer to you.

“I love it, Jungkook.” You lean into his shoulder, resting your head on him. “It makes me so happy.”

“What about me…do I make you happy?”

“So happy.” You admit. “I hope I can make you this happy too.”

“You do.” Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “Like, you have no idea.” He reaches for your hand and tangles his fingers with yours.

“Do you two want to head to bed? We got the cleaning covered.” Your mom offers. You yawn in response, showing her that you could use some sleep.

“Yeah, okay.” You accept gratefully, you stand up taking Jungkook with you. You two say your goodnight’s and head towards the stairs up to your bedroom.

“Goodnight you two.” Your grandma sings, sending a wink to Jungkook and he goes red again.

“Why does she keep winking at you?” You wonder out loud.

“No idea…” Jungkook is quick to respond. “Weird…”

When you and Jungkook get to your room, you both rush to get changed and wash up in the bathroom. He finishes before you, settling into the bed. You come in next, wearing your sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn the lights off and make your way to your bed, you slip inside and groan in satisfaction…ah, sleep time.

“Hey y/n…”

“Hm?” you sleepily roll over to your side to face Jungkook, “What’s up?”

“I just want to say…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Thanks. I just want to say thanks.”

“For what babe?”

“For bringing me for Christmas…this is the first time I have felt so at home in years.” He admits, “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I’m glad you’re happy Jungkook.”

“More than happy.” He corrects. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Can I show you instead?” Jungkook leans closer to you, tilting his head at the right angle. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t help but swallow hard, Jungkook wants to kiss you? To show you what you mean to him? That’s romantic right? You aren’t totally reading this wrong?

“Why?” you ask, gulping down your spit.

“Because.” He breathes out softly, “Please.”

You can smell the toothpaste on his breath, you can smell his laundry detergent on his clothes, you can smell the shampoo in his hair. You inhale him and hold your breath.

“If I say no?” you blink up at him and he smiles softly.

“Then I will respect that.” He answers honestly.

With your eyes still adjusting to the darkness it is hard to see his eyes but you just know they are soft and inviting.

“Jungkook…” You scoot closer to him, moving your head to be at level with his face. “Baby…” you whimper out as you lean in closer to his face.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, his breath hitting your lips. “Because—”

Your lips find his in a slow, tender kiss. You peck his lips over and over and you can feel his lips shaping into a smile. You pull away after a few seconds, feeling breathless after the short kiss.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You scoot down until your head hits his chest and you snuggle into it.

“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook smiles, laying on his back as he stares up at the dark ceiling. How will he find sleep tonight? His heart is racing in his chest. Are you finally starting to understand his feelings? He knows he hasn’t talked about them yet…but he will. Yes, he definitely will.

[solitaryguardian]

TL FanFiction Recommendations (in no particular order other than word count) phase two

Well, it's been a quarter and then some since the last fanfiction recommendation. plenty of new gems have been created by some lovely beings. So, part one (updated if it was a WIP in December 2021!) is here. Part two, well, is below. I tried not to repeat but there may be some repeats because I adore these lovely stories? I’ll clear my read history so I try not to overlap at the next update.

* denotes in masterpiece section

** denotes Works in Progress as of posting.

masterpieces [I've Bookmarked to re-read nine billion trillion times]

they say i did something bad by narcissablaxk (~119k)

someday we'll be all that we need by gayicedlatte (~113k)

Odyssey by WamapokestonePark (8/88k)

not just passing through by writetherest (~33k)

it's a symptom of your touch by gayicedlatte (~25k)

just keep on keeping your eyes on me (it's just wrong enough to make it feel right) by gayicedlatte (~14k)

Appraisal by gnen (~12k)

came in like a vision by missymeggins (~11k)

Balnea, Vina, Venus by QuillerQueen (~10k)

it takes two (to make a thing go right) by hawkinshellfire (~10k)

we gather here, we line up weeping in a sunlit room by GhostOfHarrenhal (~3k)

if you're out on the road by GhostOfHarrenhal (~3k)

and more below the cut. i know, i should create more genres... i’m just... lazy.

alternate universes

someday we'll be all that we need by gayicedlatte (~113k)*

zeal and ardor by narcissablaxk (~49k)

it's a symptom of your touch by gayicedlatte (~25k)*

Play the Game Like You’ve Got Nothing to Lose by fandomfrolics (~12k)

Appraisal by gnen (~12k)*

Two Karaoke Microphones by M_A_Salter (~10k)

In My Mind, I'm Seeing Starlight by mardia (~10k)

One More Time? by larselphie (~10k)

you’re familiar (like my mirror) by youcarrymeaway (~9k)

wide open spaces by ihopethatyouburn (WIP)**

whatever it takes by youcarrymeaway (WIP)**

A Long Time to Wait by diane_lockharts (WIP)**

Tell Me How it Feels, When You Let Go by WamapokestonePark (WIP)**

Lessons on Loving You (in The City of Dreaming Spires) by LauraRoslinForever (WIP)**

The Classroom Dad by chainofclovers (WIP)**

So This Is Love by Itneveroccurredtomeatall (WIP)**

defense and devotion by narcissablaxk (WIP)**

safe and sound by narcissablaxk (WIP)**

[hannah waddingham voice] sexy times (what the tin says)

sometimes all i think about is you by peachrock (~21k)

offer me that deathless death by youcarrymeaway (~15k)

do you think I’d let anyone else do this? by atearsarahjane (~13k)

i am left in awe of the woman i adore by writtenndust (~10k)

calamine by ShfiftyFive (~7k)

partition by narcissablaxk (~7k)

my kind companion softens stone by narcissablaxk (~6k)

GOLDWING by narcissablaxk (~6k)

Astute Observation, My Dear Ms. Welton by struckbyfuckinglightning (hidetheteaspoons) (~5k)

try a little tenderness by fandomfrolics (~5k)

exhibition game by narcissablaxk (~5k)

can't get you out of my head by thesumdancekid (~4k)

she's like a rainbow by narcissablaxk (~4k)

Who ordered the Lasso special? by occasionallyawriter (~4k)

as your body moves under my hands by StudioCapsicum (~3k)

you can plan on me by youcarrymeaway (~2k)

Like Pringles by fandomfrolics (~2k)

owner’s box by ryeflower (~2k)

I'm going, all along by chainofclovers (~1k)

red lace by thesumdancekid (~1k)

The Name of the Game by thesumdancekid (WIP)**

fics where my heart grew three sizes that day (fluffs and maybe, [probably], some sexytimes)

we can love each other for free by narcissablaxk (~28k)

just keep on keeping your eyes on me (it's just wrong enough to make it feel right) by gayicedlatte (~14k)*

five times ted finds rebecca half undressed by missymeggins (~13k)

dancing in a snow globe by missymeggins (~11k)

came in like a vision by missymeggins (~11k)*

our way to fall by thesumdancekid (~11k)

it takes two (to make a thing go right) by hawkinshellfire (~10k)*

eight weeks by GhostOfHarrenhal (~7k)

when he sees me by narcissablaxk (~6k)

Shrine and Shelter by QuillerQueen (~5k)

a hand to hold by thesumdancekid (~4k)

let me help you wake you up by missymeggins (~3k)

technically not christmas by GhostOfHarrenhal (~2k)

home cooking by thesumdancekid (~2k)

Three Second Rule by hawkinshellfire (~2k)

Defining Home by daughterofalderaan (WIP)**

things keep getting better by ShfiftyFive (WIP)**

when you're home, you're already home by lifting_belly (WIP)**

bound by all the rest by majolination (WIP)**

Little Pink Boxes by standwithyou (WIP)**

less fluff, more something else [but there’s a good ending]

show me the places where the others gave you scars by zizza24 (~45k)

Kiss and (Don't) Tell by angelsintheoutfield (~17k)

Balnea, Vina, Venus by QuillerQueen (~10k)

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by StudioCapsicum (~7k)

serve my worries away by ihopethatyouburn (~7k)

every time we say goodbye by hawkinshellfire (~6k)

Make You Feel My Love by OrthoGoddess07 (~6k)

but if you try sometime by greyathena (~6k)

let me in the walls by peachrock (~5k)

Heart, Sent by heraldthoughts (~4k)

you knew what it was. by awayfromsight (~4k)

we gather here, we line up weeping in a sunlit room by GhostOfHarrenhal (~3k)*

leaps of faith by majolination (~3k)

if you're out on the road by GhostOfHarrenhal (~3k)*

hope it's something good by ShfiftyFive (~2k)

Whenever you're ready by M_A_Salter (~2k)

phalaenopsis by gayicedlatte (~2k)

Coup de Foudre by heraldthoughts (~2k)

leaning on you by ihopethatyouburn (~2k)

you always put me first, and somehow that broke my heart by fandomfrolics (~2k)

shapeshifting by ihopethatyouburn (~2k)

Of Angels and Archangels by daughterofalderaan (~2k)

Ah, the infamous grass-colored kit decision. by daughterofalderaan (~1k)

forever winter by Iamsherlocked07 (WIP)**

seasonal offerings

not just passing through by writetherest (~33k)*

so love with your eyes, love with your mind by writtenndust (~17k)

my love (a beacon in the night) by youcarrymeaway (~12k)

i can see a better time (when all our dreams come true) by notwithhaste (~12k)

12 Birds of Christmas by heraldthoughts (~11k)

give you my love by greyathena (~9k)

this year... i'll give it to someone special by soverysesual (~9k)

we'll take a cup of kindness yet by hihoplastic (~8k)

strangers to friends, friends into lovers by standwithyou (~6k)

Backlit by daughterofalderaan (~3k)

featuring henry/phoebe

the kind of elusive she's used to by ihopethatyouburn (~7k) - phoebe

Mother's Day by atearsarahjane (~2k) - henry

Mother's Touch by Rasy Tojas (ambaila) (WIP)**

featuring pregnancy/surrogacy/adoption/babies/other fictional children

they say i did something bad by narcissablaxk (~119k)*

You turned a moment into forever by occasionallyawriter (~2k)

who wants a love that makes sense anyway by writtenndust (WIP)**

Long Way Home by erinmckenziee (WIP)**

perfect timing by LauraRoslinForever (WIP)**

Take Care of Her by LauraRoslinForever (WIP)**

series(-ish)

reputation by narcissablaxk

Is He Nice to You? by erinmckenziee

Odyssey by WamapokestonePark

you liven up the place; written between seasons one and two by theroyalwelton

drabbles(-ish)

Discord Gif Prompt Challenge by occasionallyawriter

Ted Lasso GIF Prompt ficlets by thesumdancekid

And We Rely On Each Other by daughterofalderaan

and just like a folk song by angelsintheoutfield

Ted Lasso ficlets and snippets by gnen

waiting to fall in place by Pomidorowka

[hes-writer]

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

��—

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

[typical-simplelove]

Since We Were Three (J. Oleksiak)

Summary: What happens when you go work for the Dallas Stars and your childhood enemy plays for them, too?

A/n: Here is a fun enemies to lovers I wrote. This is the first time I've ever written for that trope, but I want to write more so buckle up! Enjoy this!!

Warnings: people doing things enemies do (sorry, that's really vague), mentions of sex, breaking/spraining ankles

Word Count: 12.1k

You didn’t expect to move to Dallas; it wasn’t even on your radar. All you really remember is sitting at your parents' house back home and you got an email from your Linkedin saying that there was a position open for something you were qualified for. You didn’t even bother to look at where it was; you opened the application, read the prerequisites, and filled it out. You were desperate to get a job, so it didn’t matter. Only after you emailed your application did you realize where it was - Dallas. It didn’t even register in your mind at the time that your former neighbor and lifelong enemy lives in Dallas or plays for the Dallas Stars, the organization you just sent an application for. They were looking for someone to work in their marketing department. If you knew that your former neighbor and lifetime enemy was working for the Dallas Stars, then you’d probably not have submitted the application. You decided, however, that the pros greatly outweighed the cons, and you doubted that you’d ever need to interact with the players unless they had a marketing issue. You doubt they would, right?

You got an email three days later asking for an interview. You emailed them back saying that you lived in Canada and weren’t sure if you could make it down for an interview. Thankfully, they said that they’d be willing to have a virtual interview; however, you’d have to be willing to move to Dallas for the job. You knew for a fact that you’d be more than willing to move to Dallas. That wasn’t the problem. So, you and the Dallas Stars’ representative set a time for your virtual meeting. You had the interview, and it seemed like they liked you. You got an email three days later that you got the job; you moved to Dallas three days after that and started four days later.

You completely forgot about the fact that your enemy slash former neighbor was in Dallas until your mother brought it up.

“Hey, yn, you know, you don’t not know anyone in Dallas.” You were confused. You literally moved to a country in which you knew no one.

“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jamie, remember him? Jamie Oleksiak. You hated him growing up. Well, remember, he plays for the Dallas Stars. You should contact him.”

The normal warmth in your face immediately drained. Yeah, now you remember. The only reason you had the slightest inkling as to what Jamie was up to was because your mother and his mother were good friends. You don’t care for him at all.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright and tell your mother “no”, so you pivoted. “Maybe,” you said and your mother seemed to think that meant that you’d be reaching out to Jamie. You weren’t. You were going to do everything in your power to try to avoid him. There was no way that someone who worked in marketing would ever come in contact with any of the players, right? You didn’t work in media that was in constant contact with the team, and you didn’t work in anything to do with the contracts or paychecks. As long as you keep a quiet profile, you expect you should be fine, right?

This worked for your first season working with Stars. You were new and a few years out of college, so your more experienced colleagues made sure to observe what you were doing. You were happy with this. Before working in Dallas, you only worked for one small company and you were one of two people in the marketing department. The reason you were looking for a new job was that this company went bankrupt. Yeah, you were grateful for the oversight you received. You made it one year without seeing, hearing, talking to, or being around Jamie. The fact that the two of you were in the same city made your blood boil. You hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being, and you hoped to avoid him as much as possible.

You went into the second season thinking that you’d have the ability to remain anonymous to the team and stay in your lane. This, unfortunately, did not work. You went to work on the morning that training camp started. You sat at your desk and noticed that everyone was quite angsty. You turned to a friend and asked what was going on. She told you that someone from management was coming to find people to work for the GM, specifically, someone in marketing. You knew that you’d be the last one selected considering your lack of experience. You were wrong.

The minute the representative from the GM’s offices walked in and saw your application, you were swept up and taken to their offices. Happy with the new promotion, you didn’t realize that you’d be closer to Jamie.

The notion hit you nine days after you were promoted when Tyler Seguin walked into the office and walked over to you.

“Yn, right?” he says and you nod. “We need someone to fill in with media personnel and they asked for you.”

“Oh!” you say; you had experience in media but not that much to get a recommendation.

“Yeah, they said to be there at 1:30pm.”

“Thanks,” you tell Tyler; he smiles at you and waves.

So you were going to be getting closer to the team than you thought.

. . .

As you walked down the hall towards the locker room, you ran right into the wall. Except it wasn’t a wall.

“Oh, you’re not a wall,” you say mostly to yourself. It was a very hard and firm person.

“So, you’re telling me you would have walked into me also if I were a wall?” You look up and see none other than Jamie Oleksiak looking back at you.

His beautiful eyes made you want to throw up. There was no word to express how much you hated him. Literally just staring at him for a second made you want to run away and scream.

“I, no, I just thought I had more time before I had to turn the corner.”

“Sure,” he says in a voice that makes you want to punch him; however, looking at him, you know it wouldn’t hurt at all and do the damage you wanted. Since when did he get so big? “Hey, Yn. I heard you started working for the Stars organization. Welcome to Dallas.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not my welcome party. And I’ve been in Dallas for almost a year.” You immediately back up but trip over your feet. Jamie instantly reaches out and helps you balance. You feel your face suddenly grow warm. Why did Jamie’s enormously large hands have this effect on you?

“You always were quite clumsy growing up. Tripping and falling for me, I mean in front of me.” Jamie’s joke didn’t go past you. It infuriated you. He liked to think that you were in love with him. You weren’t.

“You know, the only reason I kept on falling was because you kept tripping me. It’s your fault.” You storm away angrily and head to where you need to be.

Jamie smiles after you. “That’s the feistiness that I remember.”

You turn around and glare at him. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.

. . .

You’ve hated Jamie Oleksiak since he tripped you in daycare when you were three years old. The first three years of your life, you didn’t mind Jamie. Your mothers were best friends, and you were both neighbors. Your parents were both ER surgeons and sometimes they had to go in for emergency surgery. This was one of those days. Your father was already working and your mother was called in for emergency surgery, so Jamie’s mother was going to pick you up from preschool. You put on your small, sparkly light purple backpack and followed Jamie and his mother out the door. The minute you were about to cross the parking lot, Jamie stuck his foot out and you tripped and fell on your face. You didn’t immediately feel the pain until Jamie’s mother helped you up and mentioned that your face was bleeding. You touched your face and began to cry. Jamie tripped you purposefully and now your face was bleeding. From that day forward, you hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being. How could someone who was supposed to be your friend and care for you purposefully hurt you? Where was the logic in that? Why could Jamie purposefully hurt you unless he didn’t like you? He must hate you to want to hurt you.

It wasn’t just because he tripped you; Jamie began to make your life miserable. From taunting you on the playground to tripping you all the time. It continued into kindergarten and elementary school. Middle school was terrible. He taunted you and made fun of you. He always found ways to make anything you were enthusiastic about a reason to taunt you. He joined clubs because you were in them and so he could bring his stupid with him who would the experience unenjoyable for you. You remember your parents telling you to ignore him and Jamie probably had a crush on you. He didn’t. He just out of nowhere opted to make your life miserable.

It only got worse in high school. As his popularity grew in high school as a result of hockey, he only became more cocky and unbearable. He always found a way to make you miserable. Whenever you had any remote crush or boyfriend, Jamie always swept in and ruined it for you. By the time you graduated and went to college, you were ready to leave the horrors that Jamie brought on to you. You were quite proud of the fact that despite your mothers being friends, you had no idea about anything to do with Jamie’s life. You went to college and built a life that was the exact opposite of the misery that Jamie brought into your life.

. . .

You walk into the locker room and Carrie, one of the other media execs, greets you. “Yn, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“We need you to fill in for a few weeks with our media team because one of the media personnel had to leave for a family emergency. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Carrie laughs. “It’s not too hard. You just have to take photos and videos of the team during warmups, practices, and stuff like that. If you know how to use Instagram, then you should be great.”

“Well, then, I think I should be good.”

“We’re going to give you a separate phone to use that you can just keep at your desk in the GM’s offices.”

“Perfect, that sounds great.” You and Carrie continue to talk and work out the little details about your new temporary position. You walked back to your desk in the GM’s offices with a smile on your face. You were happy to have this new position. At first, I didn’t recall to you that you’d have to be in contact with the team. When you heard Jamie’s voice echoing through the halls, your blood began to boil. You definitely weren’t looking forward to having to have to work with him.

. . .

The day after you got the word that you were filling in with the Media Department, you started right away. You were told to sit in the practice arena ready to take photos and videos of the team. As the practice was ending, Carrie asked you to head to the locker room and take one-minute interviews with the players. She gave you the list of players: Tyler Seguin, John Klingberg, Esa Lindell, Roope Hintz, and, much to your disappointment, Jamie Oleksiak. You sighed. You really didn’t want to have to talk to him, but you were going to be professional and try not to let him get to you.

You walk towards the locker room and Carrie tells you to wait a moment; the players aren’t ready. After fifteen minutes of small talk, you and Carrie walk into the locker room. The players that you and Carrie were going to interview were sitting on the bench waiting. You glance around the room and Jamie is looking at you with a curious eye.

“This is yn; she’s filling in for a few weeks as media personnel whilst Tristain is out with a family emergency,” Carrie explains. “Be nice to her please.”

Jamie meets your eye again and smirks. You roll your eyes and some of the players notice with confusion.

“Yn, why don’t you start with Tyler and I’ll start with John and we’ll work our way around?” Carrie explains.

You nod. You glance around the room and take note of who you’d be interviewing. You were going to be interviewing Jamie Oleksiak much to your disappointment. You get through the interview with Tyler, but he stops you before you can move on.

“What’s with you and Big Rig?” Tyler asks.

You smile at him trying to hide your disdain for your former friend. “Nothing, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Tyler laughs. “If you say so.”

You move on and interview Roope next. His interview made you giggle like a maniac behind the camera, and you didn’t notice the glares that Jamie gave his teammate and you.

You finish your interview with Roope and get ready to interview Jamie.

“Hi Jamie, ready for your interview?” you ask professionally.

“Yeah, I am,” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher but it’s already got your blood boiling. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“So, Jamie, tell me, what’s been the best part of the start of the new season?”

He puts a smirk on his face and you know exactly what he’s thinking - you’re not going to get an answer you like. “Uh, I’ve liked that I’ve been able to rekindle our companionship.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not what this is, and you have to give me a different answer.”

Jamie’s answer didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates and they were begging, no yearning, to ask more.

“Fine,” Jamie pauses briefly to think of another question. “I would say just being back with the team and skating with everyone again is probably the best part about the start of the new season.”

You nod and glance down at your list of questions. “What do you hope to get out of this new season?”

“Hopefully a Stanley Cup?” he says and quirks his eyebrows in a way that sends warmth to your face but also infuriates you. You nod in a sign of acknowledgment and Jamie can’t pass up the opportunity to get a rise out of you. “Maybe you, too.”

You instantly drop your notepad and glare up at him. What was his problem? Why was he like this? Jamie should know you hate him, so why does he suddenly think that you two were going to fix the hatred that’s been building for years? Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room. “Can you please stop? Just so you know, I hate you, so whatever fantasy you’re playing out in your mind? It’s not happening, Jamie. Can you please stop making it harder for me to do my job?”

Jamie smirks. He knows he should stop, but he won’t. “I always liked watching you get frustrated at me.”

“Jamie! Just cut it out!”

“Is everything okay over here?” Carrie says, trying to calm the situation.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Jamie’s just rehashing things from our childhoods.” You explain.

“Wait, you two know each other?” John asks comically.

Jamie nods. “Know is not quite it, but yes.”

“What does that mean?” John asks

“That means that Yn hates me.”

“You hate me too, Jamie; don’t just put this on me. You’ve only ever made my life more difficult throughout every part of it.”

“Yn, why don’t you interview Esa, and I’ll finish with Jamie, that good?” Carrie suggests

“Yes, that works,” you walk over to Esa and breathe out a sigh of relief. Yeah, you knew that this was exactly what was going to happen.

You finished your interview with Esa, and you and Carrie walked out of the locker room to prep the videos to be posted.

“Dude, what did you do to make her so angry at you?” Esa asks. “It seems like your mere presence pisses her off.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does,” Jamie admits. “I can’t remember why; all I remember is that one day we started hating each other.”

“I’d hate to be in your shoes,” Tyler tells his teammate. “A pretty girl hates you, and you very obviously like her.”

Jamie pales. He didn’t think it was that obvious to anyone, ever. “What?”

Everyone laughs.

“It’s obvious,” Roope agrees. “You like her. Just the way you looked at her and acted around her. You’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t,” Jamie grumbles.

“Dude, you were staring at her the entire time she was interviewing Roope. All the giggling made you jealous, didn’t it?” Esa states.

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t care. There is nothing but hate between us.” Jamie tries to defend himself. It’s useless; Jamie knows for a fact that he was jealous that Roope got to be on the receiving end of your giggles.

“Whatever, this is going to be fun,” John says.

It truly will be.

. . .

When you got home from work that day, you immediately called your best friend, Lisa, to tell her all about your day with Jamie.

“You know?” you being. “He’s just as infuriating as when we were children. He had the audacity to believe that we could possibly be friends. I mean, come on, the antipathy and rancor between us can be felt for miles and miles. He drives me crazy so much.”

Lisa was glad that you weren’t doing a video call because the smile on her face was wide. Deep down, she knows that there are other feelings besides this hate between you and Jamie; she just wasn’t sure if it would ever come out. “Maybe he wants to be nice again.”

“No, that’s not what this is. If he wanted to be nice and try to be friends again, then he wouldn’t have done exactly what he knew would drive me insane. It’s probably like caffeine to him; driving me insane is the coffee that wakes him up in the morning. You know, now, probably, he wakes up and hatches a plan to try to drive me insane.”

Lisa laughs. “Aren’t you taking this a bit far?”

“Absolutely not, I think I’m acting appropriately. You didn’t see his smirk; I wanted to punch him in the face so badly. Obviously, it wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him as he’s huge now.”

“Oh? Down there too?”

Your face warms suddenly, and you’re glad Lisa can’t see your face. “That’s not what I meant. He’s giant and super muscular. I guess you could assume that he’s packing quite a bit.”

“You know, yn, maybe this is just pent-up sexual tension and frustration. Maybe you just need to get laid and get laid by someone in particular.”

“You’re telling me that when we were seven when Jamie broke my ankle, that was pent-up sexual frustration?”

Lisa laughs. “Okay, maybe not your entire relationship was pent-up sexual tension. Maybe just now and parts of high school? You have to admit, Jamie is quite hot, now, right? Maybe the past few years of hate has led to the dire need to just sleep with each other.”

“Thank you for your take, but these past few days is the first time I’ve spoken to Jamie in almost five years. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Just talk to him. Maybe tell him that you want this to be as professional as possible and try to move past the hate. Yn, before you argue, just think of what working for the Dallas Stars could do to your career. That’s a high-profile job. Maybe if you try to be professional and polite, then maybe he will too?”

You wanted to contradict everything Lisa said, but you knew she was right. For your job to go smoothly, it was important for you to keep a professional attitude and any hate you have for Jamie on the backburner. “You’re right; however, I’m not promising that it’s going to work. I’ll try my best to be professional, but if he starts to aggravate me, I’m not sure if I can keep up that facade.”

“That’s why you talk to him. Maybe set up a time to meet up or something and just discuss what you have to say.”

“That would require me to unblock him on literally everything, even Facebook.”

“Does he still even have that?”

“He does; it’s not even his real name. It’s an alias. He only made it to try to talk to me and bother me. I doubt he uses it and it may be deactivated now.”

“This is besides the point. Yn, Jamie is obviously not going to try to be professional with you, so it’s up to you to make that clear.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The only lingering thought you had was whether or not this would work. Surely, Jamie could be a decent human being to you, right?

. . .

The next day, you went and sat in the practice arena ready to take the photos that your job required you to take. Today, you decided was going to be the day that you had that all too important conversation with Jamie. You really didn’t want to have that conversation, but you knew that it was important in having a not chaotic working environment for everyone, not just you and Jamie.

When practice was over, you waited outside the locker room for Jamie. He walked out on his own and smirked when he saw you waiting. He didn’t know for sure you were waiting for him; however, when he saw that your phone was off, he assumed you weren’t there for work.

“Hey, ynn,” Jamie says to you and your blood instantly begins to boil. Jamie knew that you never gave him the jurisdiction to call you that, yet he still used it. You wanted to call him out on it but thought better of it. You were here to try to be professional and rehashing this would contradict your objective.

“Hey, Jamie, can we talk? It’s about something important.”

Jamie’s smirk instantly left his face and worry washed over his face. You didn’t know that Jamie could be sympathetic towards anything you said. “Yeah, is everything okay?”

His response shocked you and it took you a moment to regroup. “Oh, yeah. I just want to talk about our relationship, well, lack thereof of one. I think that when we’re here at work, we should be professional. We should put any hate that we have for each other on the side while here so that we can have a better working environment.”

Jamie laughs. “This is what you wanted to talk about? This couldn’t have been a text? You had me so worried, yn.”

“It’s important to me, Jamie,” you protest. You didn’t want to get angry at him, so you calmed yourself down. “I think it’s better for both of us if we can just keep our history and past behind us while we are doing anything to do with the Dallas Stars.”

“If I were to take you out on a date, then we could hate each other as normal?”

“What?” you falter.

“You heard me, yn. You never had a hard time hearing what I had to say.”

“No, absolutely not. You will not be taking me out on a date, ever.”

“Come on, really?”

“Jamie, this is beside the point. I’m trying to move on from our pasts and you aren’t really making this any easier. Isn’t this what you said the other day? You were hoping for a rekindling? Well, this is the first part. Trying to put behind us any hate.” You were raising your voice now. “I’m trying to make my job easier, but you’re making it incredibly difficult. Jamie, all I want is to come to work and not have to worry about whether or not an outburst I make at you will cost me my job.”

Jamie doesn’t have anything to say. “Yn.”

“No, don’t do that. You know, the reason we hate each other is your fault, so you should be the one fixing things, not me.”

“What?”

“You tripped me purposefully when we were three and laughed at me.”

“Wait, this is what this is about?”

“No, that’s the first time you treated me terribly. It was the start of you belittling me and making me feel terrible. I hated going to school because I was always worried about you and your stupid antics.” Tears are forming at the corners of your eyes, and you try to will them away.

Jamie feels terrible now. “I’m sorry, ynn. I didn’t know.”

“Firstly, don’t call me ynn; you don’t get to do that. Secondly, seriously? You’re telling me that you didn’t know you were being a total ass to me? No, I don’t believe that because I know for a fact that your mother talked to you. Do you want to know how I know that? Because she apologized to me time and time again for what you did to me. Don’t you dare say that you had no idea.”

Jamie looks down at you and extends his left leg so it’s jutting out. “You’re right. I was a total ass.”

“Only took you twenty-plus years to finally admit that.”

“Come on, ynn,” Jamie says and you glare at him. “Yn, I’m trying here, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Oh my goodness, Jamie. Literally, that’s what I’ve been trying to do! You not willing to accept my proposition is the whole reason we’re rehashing this stuff.”

“Yn, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You look at him and are shocked to see that he has remorse in his eyes. “Nothing, just let me be.” You take a step to the right and begin to walk away. Unfortunately, because Jamie extended his leg, you tripped over it and went crashing to the floor hurting your ankle in the process. You screamed out in pain; you always had weak ankles after breaking them in elementary school. Your cry out in pain brought some people out of the locker room.

Jamie’s eyes go wide in fear. “Yn! Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay? Jamie, did you really have to trip me?”

“Really? I didn’t mean to! My leg was just there, and you tripped.”

“It doesn’t matter; let me just get up.” You put your hands flat on the ground to help yourself up. The minute your leg is stable enough to be stood up on, you get up but fall immediately. You cry out in pain again.

“You might have sprained your ankle,” Roope says. He was one of the people who rushed out of the locker room when you first fell.

“No, I don’t think so. I just have very weak ankles after Jamie broke, I mean, I broke my ankles in elementary school.” Your correction of Jamie breaking your ankles does not go unnoticed by him. He wants to ask why but feels it’s not the right moment.

“Here, let me help you,” Jamie reaches for your arms and you move them away. “Really, yn? Just let me help you.”

Jamie and Roope help you up and put you on the bench in the locker room, and Roope goes to find a trainer to check on your ankle.

“I’m sorry, yn, really,” Jamie says with a soft voice. You begin to put your foot on the ground but Jamie stops you gently. “Put it on the bench. It’s important to keep it elevated.”

“It’s cold, though,” you pout.

Jamie laughs. “Here, put it on my lap then, okay?”

You look at Jamie hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trick, yn. I think I’ve hurt you enough over the years. Just put your leg on my lap.”

You do as he says and Jamie rests his hands on top of your ankle. Your face grows warm at the touch and you suddenly don’t hate Jamie. “So, you’re finally admitting that you made me miserable?”

“I don’t think I made you miserable,” Jamie says and you scoff. “Wait, let me finish. I think I didn’t make your life any easier. I’m not relenting any more than that, babe.”

You flinch at the pet name, but your face grows warm. Do you address it?

Jamie makes the decision for you. “Yn, I have a question for you.”

You nod, signaling him to continue.

“You were saying something about how you have weak ankles and then said something about me. This isn’t me trying to be self-centered or whatever. I just genuinely want to know. I don’t remember what happened.”

“Well, we were in elementary school and you once, I’m pretty sure it was accidental, put your hand out and it hit me while I was walking down the stairs and I fell. I landed weirdly on my ankle and broke it.”

“So you blame me?”

“Yes, absolutely. Do you blame me? You had a way of hurting me and making it seem like an accident.”

Jamie laughs and you giggle along; he’s about to comment when a trainer walks in.

“Let’s see what’s the matter here,” he says. You are suddenly extremely aware that your leg is sitting on Jamie’s lap and his hands are on your lap. The trainer examines your ankle. “It’s nothing too terrible; just a small sprain. I think if you keep it elevated as much as possible then it should be healed in a few days. Can you try walking on it?”

You nod and put your foot on the ground gently. Jamie puts his hands on your waist as you try to stand, and your skin is burning beneath his touch. “I think I’m good to get back to work.”

“You sure?” Jamie asks, concerned.

You nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you walk away from Jamie’s embrace. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Just ice it and keep it elevated once you get home tonight,” the trainer tells you. You nod and walk out of the locker room.

“What did you do to her?” Roope asks Jamie.

“Too much damage to ever fix,” Jamie says with a sigh. There was no way that your relationship with Jamie would ever go past professional acquaintances after what you revealed to him today. If Jamie knew one thing about you it was that you were strong and steadfast with your opinions and rarely changed them, especially when it came to people. Jamie doubted that he’d be an exception considering all of the past history there.

. . .

The days that followed your fall, you avoided Jamie as much as possible. You could proudly say that you didn’t hate him anymore. That’s not true. You still hated Jamie; however, when you heard his name, you didn’t immediately roll your eyes and get angry. Sometimes, you’d smile and other times you’d have no reaction. This shocked everyone because they all knew about the hatred you had for the Dallas Stars hockey player.

Shortly after, you were taken off of the media job and went back to your marketing job. The night of the home opener, however, Carrie comes up to your office with a request. “Tristain can be back at work but not for games at the moment. Do you think that you could fill in tonight? We had her on the schedule and no one else can be there.”

You hesitate; the only thing holding you back was the fact that you’d be seeing Jamie again.

“Sure, of course!”

You sort out the details with Carrie and are set to be available as part of the media team tonight for the home opener.

Later that day, you’re standing outside of the locker room filming the boys get ready for warmups. Once the video was taken and posted, you put the phone in your pocket and begin to head to the place you were supposed to be. However, someone grabs onto your arm gently and stops you.

“How’s your ankle?” Jamie asks softly.

This should infuriate you; however, his concern has you touched. You don’t show it though. “Better. I think I’d be better, though, if I didn’t have to worry about my ankles but oh well.”

Jamie shakes his head; he wasn’t sure why he was expecting anything else from you.

“I have to go, good luck tonight, Jamie,” you tell him and walk away. You’ll admit, your comment was quite snarky and unneeded. You feel bad for what you said, and Jamie was only trying to be nice. You had to keep up familiarities, right? You hated Jamie Oleksiak for the majority of your life, so why did you suddenly feel bad for what you said to him?

. . .

“Are you coming out with us tonight, Yn?” Denis asks. The team won and wanted to go out and celebrate.

You shake your head. “No, thanks for the invite though.”

“Oh, come on, why not, Ynn?” Jamie asks. Why was he asking you that? Did he not remember that the two of you have hated each other since birth? “Don’t not go because of me.”

“Funny. You think that I care about what you do or think. I just have a few things I have to do.” you lied; you weren’t going to admit that Jamie was the reason you weren’t going out.

Jamie smirks. “Fine, if you say so, but I will continue to think in my head that the reason you’re not coming out with us is because of me and the animosity we have for each other.”

“Well, look at you. Did you finally begin to remember the vocabulary we learned in high school?”

Jamie’s face turns red. Yes, he asked his sister to send photos of his old stuff from high school to try to impress you. He wasn’t going to admit it, however. Ever since that heart to heart in the locker room, Jamie wanted nothing more than to impress you. You went back to bantering and driving each other crazy; however, this was a lighter teasing and driving each other crazy. Some would even call it flirting. Would Jamie say he was flirting with you? Yes, absolutely. Would Jamie say you were flirting back with him? No, absolutely not. You hated him, so Jamie knew that whatever he thought you felt was obviously in his head.

“No,” he grumbles and some of his teammates laugh at him. The one thing that was sticking out to Jamie was that you didn’t correct him when he called you by your nickname. You went along with it. Was there some progress being made? “Enjoy whatever you have to do tonight, yn.”

You smile at him softly that has Jamie’s heart beating fast and walk away.

“Dude, you’re in deep with her,” someone says as they clap Jamie on the back. He didn’t have the energy to determine who was talking to him or contradict what they were saying. They were right; Jamie was in deep and he had no idea what to do about it.

After taking the video you needed for the Stars Instagram of the boys playing soccer at the next home game, you wave goodbye and head to the media offices; you once again had to fill in for the media team. You take five steps and hear a loud “ow!” from the one voice you despised. You turn around to see Jamie rubbing his head and staring down at his teammates. You can’t help but smile.

“Stop staring at her, you idiot,” Roope calls out and this gets a laugh out of all the boys. “Just ask her out instead of staring,” someone else yells. A deep red blush overtakes Jamie’s face and you can’t help but smile. You walk away with a giant smile on your face. You immediately shake it off. Why was Jamie getting flustered making you smile? You hated Oleksiak, right?

. . .

When you got home from work after a long day, all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. You had a minor sinus infection and the day was exhausting. You had a massive headache and felt nauseous all day. There was nothing more you wanted to do was take a hot shower, curl up in warm clothing, and call it a night. You weren’t expecting to come home and see a DoorDash bag sitting outside your door. You knew for a fact that you didn’t order anything. You picked up the bag and noticed there was a note attached.

Yn,

I heard that you were feeling sick, so I bought you some soup.

Enjoy,

Jamie

Jamie bought you soup? Jamie was asking about you? Where did this come from? Why would Jamie extend any kindness towards you? Isn’t he supposed to hate you? Isn’t Jamie supposed to be making your life miserable? You’ll admit, after the incident where you sprained your ankle slightly, you and Jamie have been cordial. Whenever you both talked to each other, mean words were being passed around. However, it was more of a teasing and flirting meanness. Does this mean that you and Jamie were friends now? No, right?

You walk into your apartment and open the bag - it was Italian Wedding Soup, your favorite. Your heart warmed at the fact that Jamie remembered your favorite soup. Growing up, your grandmother always made this for you when you were sick. Sometimes, she’d bring some over to the Oleksiak house if anyone was sick there, too. You grabbed a bowl and ladle and put some soup in a bowl. The minute you took the first bite, you sighed in content. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close. You started to immediately feel better. How did Jamie know this was exactly what you needed? You wanted to text him to thank him; however, you didn’t have his phone number and didn’t feel comfortable sending him a text through Instagram quite yet. You opted to write him and note and were going to leave it in his stall the next morning.

You finished the soup and began to feel better. You were happy and thankful for the soup, but you had one lingering thought. Why would Jamie do something like this for you?

The next morning, when Jamie got to his stall, he noticed that there was a gift bag sitting on the bench. He looked around to see if maybe one of his teammates left it there. It wasn't his birthday and there was no big milestone coming up. What was the message behind it, then?

“It was here when I got here,” John tells Jamie.

“He wanted to open it, but we told him that it wouldn’t be nice,” Roope says.

“I didn’t want to open it; I wanted to see who it was from. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever, Jamie, just open it.”

Jamie grabs the bag and looks for a card or maybe a note. He removes a piece of tissue paper and sees a note. He smiles as he sees your familiar handwriting that always got Jamie’s heart racing back in high school.

Jamie,

Thank you so much for the soup last night. How did you know it was my favorite? I didn’t have your phone number, so I am leaving this for you. Enjoy a small treat from home! Again, thank you.

Yn

Jamie smiles and peers into the bag. Inside, Jamie finds a bag of snacks that are endemic to the Toronto area. Only, you would know what his favorites were. “It’s from Yn,” Jamie tells his curious teammates.

This gets a few raised eyebrows and snickers from the people that were currently in the locker room.

“Why did she leave you a gift?” Roope asks.

“I bought her some soup and had it delivered to her house yesterday because I heard she was sick. This is her thank you.” Jamie blushes with these words and can’t meet anyone’s eye.

“You got her soup?” John asks curiously. What did this mean? “Are you trying to date her?”

Jamie pales. “What? No. She just wasn’t feeling well, so I tried to make her feel better.”

John smirks. “How did you know exactly what she would want?”

Jamie, not realizing that his teammates were setting him up, answered obliviously. “It was always her favorite growing up.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I loved her, still do.”

This was not the answer that everyone was expecting. “What?” someone asks.

“What?” Jamie looks up from the note to see everyone staring at him.

“You love Yn? The girl who hates you? The girl who you treated like absolute shit your entire life?” Roope confirms.

“I, yeah, I loved her. In middle school and elementary school, I just messed with her because she was a girl and, you know when you have a crush on a girl that young, you tease her.”

“No, you don’t,” Miro says.

Jamie glares at his teammate. “Whatever, not the point. I thought I was being obvious, and then in high school, I realized I was in love with her.”

“You wanted to treat her right, but you knew she’d find it suspicious.”

“I forgot about my feelings when she went to college and my career picked up, but when I saw her that first time I, just,” Jamie stops talking because he isn’t sure how to continue.

“Realized your feelings.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe just talk to her? Tell her how you feel?” John suggests.

“That probably won’t work. How do I tell her that I’ve been in love with her since we were three and I treated her terribly because I was scared of my feelings? Oh, and I ruined any possibility of her dating anyone in high school because I was a jealous idiot who couldn’t figure anything out.”

Jamie’s words get a few pitiful glances, “that sucks”, and pats on the shoulder. No one knows what to say or do. Jamie was in love with the one person who might never love him back.

. . .

Walking into the ballroom, you were trying to find your boss so that you could tell her that you were here. Tonight was the annual Casino Night and you were working behind the scenes to make sure the night went smoothly. This was the first time you were attending because last year, the marketing team didn’t need you to work it, and you also caught a cold right before.

“Oh, hey, yn’s here,” Carrie calls out and crosses your name off the list. “Perfect, you’re going to be sitting at the table in the front welcoming guests and stuff. You are going to ask for their name, ID, and ticket. Once you do that, you’ll tell them their table number and give them a gift bag. A few of the players will be serving as ushers tonight, so they’ll bring the guests to their tables.”

You nod. You want to ask who the players are, but you don’t want to sound eager.

“The organization assigned Roope Hintz, Denis Gurianov, and Jason Dickinson as ushers. They also put Jamie Oleksiak. I know the two of you have some hardcore animosity between you two, so if you don’t want him there, then we can get someone else.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” you tell Carrie. For the first time in your life, you were serious. Things between you and Jamie were cordial and professional. You still hated him like crazy but significantly less than when you were growing up. You weren’t even sure that you and Jamie would be at this point, but here you two both were.”

“Okay, great, why don’t I bring you to your station and show you how the software works,” Carrie says and leads you to the entrance of the ballroom. The next ten minutes pass, and you think you’ve got the software and system figured out pretty well that you should be okay. Carrie told you to organize the table in any way that’s fitting to your needs, so you begin to reorganize based on how you think you’ll be able to work more efficiently.

Walking to the front entrance from the back entrance are the ushers. Leading the pack is Jamie and Roope. They were walking and talking casually when Jamie suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Keep walking,” Jason says and smacks Jamie over the head.

“What are you staring at - oh,” Roope follows Jamie’s eye line and spots you organizing the table.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jamie says with heart eyes. You were wearing a dark green dress that fell just above your knees and matching green stilettos. Your hair was done in the way that you knew looked best. Jamie recognized it as the same way you did your hair for Senior Prom and graduation.

“You know, maybe tonight you should tell her?” Denis suggests.

“I don’t think so,” Jamie says with reluctance. “I know she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then try not to stare or gape too much, then.”

Jamie nods. “We should head to where we need to be, right?”

The four boys continue walking to where you were. “Hey, yn,” Roope greets you.

You look up and smile. “Hi, well, you guys clean up nicely.”

“As do you,” Jamie tells you, and the heat rushes to your face. So, Jamie was complimenting you now.

“Um, so, I’ll be greeting guests and taking their ticket information,” you explain. “Your job, which you've probably been briefed on, is to escort them to their table numbers.”

“‘Briefed on’?” Jason begins. “Are we in some kind of spy or FBI movie?”

“Very funny,” you say sarcastically. “Not the point, but that’s it basically. I think Ryan from marketing will be here to help me with the tickets. Carrie told me that two of you will be on my side of the table and two on Ryan’s side.”

Ryan suddenly appears and greets you with a hug. “You look nice, yn.”

“Thanks, Ryan, you clean up well, too,” you say back to him. You don’t catch the glare that Jamie was giving to Ryan. “I was just explaining what we’re going to be doing tonight to the boys. Two will be working with you and two with me.”

“Perfect, thanks for briefing them; you four can talk amongst yourselves as to who you’re going to be working with. I don’t care either way.”

“See?” you look pointedly at Jason. “Ryan used ‘brief’, too. Oh, I also don’t care. Actually, I’m going to head to the washroom quickly before people start to arrive.”

You get up and walk away, but you don’t notice Jamie watching you leave. He was incredibly captivated with you and wants nothing more than to sweep you up and kiss you. He wants to profess his love to you and love you forever. Sadly, you would never feel the same way as a result of how he treated you growing up. Jamie is drawn out of his thoughts by Jason smacking his arm.

“Dude, you have to stop staring,” Jason says.

“Oh, you like her?” Ryan asks. “She’s quite a catch.”

“Oh, no, I don’t,” Jamie denies. He gets stares from his teammates. Jamie isn’t sure why he denied having feelings for you. You weren’t even here to hear them anyways.

“Good, I like her, and I think I’m going to ask her out. I wasn’t going to say anything if you liked her, but since you don’t, I should be okay to do so.”

Jamie nods but locks his jaw. “Excuse me, I have to go to the washroom, too.” Jamie walks to the bathroom angrily. Of course, Ryan likes you, who wouldn’t? Why couldn’t Jamie just tell Ryan he likes you? That way, Ryan won’t be asking you out. Too entranced in his thoughts, he runs right into you, again.

“Oof, wow, hi Jamie,” you say to him giggly after regaining your composure. “I should stop doing this, you know, running into you. Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“You look really angry and pissed off.”

“Oh, well, I’m not, so, don’t worry,” Jamie says in a voice that doesn’t express what he just said.

You laugh softly.

“What?” Jamie asks.

“You say you’re not angry, but your tone says anything but,” you explain with an amused smile. You look up to meet Jamie’s eyes, and you see the fury going on in his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Jamie brushes you off and walks away toward the washroom.

You want to yell after him, but you don’t feel it’s your place to do so.

“Oh good, you’re back,” Ryan says to you. “Jamie and Jason are going to be your ushers and Roope and Denis will be mine.”

You nod and sit down. So, Jamie was going to be closer to you than you thought. “Perfect.”

When Jamie gets back from the washroom and sees you talking to Ryan in a much too friendly manner for his liking, Jamie sulks again. This was going to be a long night.

Somehow, despite his anger and frustration, Jamie was able to put that all aside as he was working as an usher for the Casino Night. Just being near you and around you was enough to calm him down. Watching you interact with the guests made Jamie’s heart warm. He always knew that you were incredibly caring to everyone you met; he just didn’t know that your actions would make him melt and fall more in love with you. After about an hour and a half of welcoming guests, Carrie walks over and says that one group can go and get something to eat. She walks away and the six of you talk amongst yourselves as to who should go. The decision is made for you when two guests walk up to you and begin pulling out their IDs. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Ryan, Roope, and Denis head into the ballroom to have dinner. After welcoming them in, Denis ushers the guests to their table. You take a breath of releasing exhaustion and Jamie smiles at you.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of people to talk to; when I took this job, I thought it would just be marketing, not the rest of this, too,” you tell him. “It’s a very versatile job.”

“Well, if it weren’t versatile, then we wouldn’t have ever come into contact with each other, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet.”

Jamie looks you in the eye. “Well, I think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah?” you say to Jamie, and he nods. “I’ll take that into consideration as I make my decision.”

Jamie chuckles deeply, and you feel the shivers go up your spine.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you ask Jamie.

“Sure,” he tells you.

“Why were you, actually never mind,” you stop asking, seeing Denis walking back to the table.

Jamie was about to question why, but he sees Denis and another guest approaching. He takes this as the reason that you stopped talking. You put on a bright smile and begin talking to the guests and welcoming them. Jamie ushers them into the ballroom after you talk and gives you a wink. You feel the warmth reach your face; you see Denis shaking his head and you question him.

“Just give him a chance,” he replies to you.

“What?” you ask confused.

“I’m serious, just give him a chance.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You will, just give him a chance when you realize you know what I’m talking about.”

You nod. What in the world could he be talking about?

Three hours after the event starts, Carrie comes over to the six of you and tells her that you were all relieved of your duties and were free to enjoy the event. You weren’t sure what to do now.

“Where are you headed?” Jamie asks.

“I’m not sure, you?”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I’ve never been to one of these before, and most of my friends are working or have their own dates. I don’t have a table to sit at and don’t want to intrude.”

Jamie nods. He extends his arm for you, and you look at him skeptically.

“What?” you ask.

“Dance with me,” he tells you.

You want to tell him he’s crazy and that there was no way in hell that you were going to dance with him. However, you wanted to. You wanted to dance with Jamie, so you loop your arm through his and he leads you into the ballroom. The two of you find a spot on the dance floor and maneuver yourselves into a dancing position. Jamie rests his two hands on your waist and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle softly; your hands don’t reach because Jamie is too tall.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re too tall; I can’t get my arms to go around your neck,” you tell him.

“Oh,” Jamie says. His eyes suddenly light up. He removes one of his hands from your waist and takes your hand. “Now, you put one of your hands on my back. This work?”

You do as he says and nods. “Yeah, and now we dance!”

“That we do.”

You and Jamie begin swaying with the music. You remember that you had a question you wanted to ask Jamie, so you decide to prompt him with it now. “Hey, Jamie?”

“Yes, ynn?”

“Why were you so upset earlier?” you ask.

Jamie suddenly stiffens, and you begin tracing patterns on his back with your hand to try to calm him down. “No reason.”

“So, you mean to tell me that you just get angry for no apparent reason?”

“No, I did get angry for a certain reason.”

“Care to share? A penny for your thoughts?”

What about a kiss for my thoughts. “It’s stupid. Ryan just said something I didn’t like, so I got angry.”

“Oh, okay.”

Jamie smiles at you, and you both continue to dance to the song. When the song ends, you begin to release your grasp of Jamie, but he doesn’t do the same.

“Jamie, the song's over.”

“I know, one more?” he asks. You want to say yes, but you aren’t sure why you don’t want to. You aren’t sure what this shift in your relationship is, but you need some time to figure it out on your own.

“I’m sorry, my feet hurt, I think I’m going to head to the back with staff and just rest, okay?” you pivot.

Jamie nods and releases his hold on you. “I probably have to do some sucking up to the donors and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, probably,” you tease. “See you later?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Jamie says to you, and the two of you go your separate ways. You head to the back to find Carrie, and Jamie heads to his teammates.

“So, did you finally tell her?” Denis asks excitedly.

“No,” Jamie says glumly.

The team gathered at this certain location all shook their heads in annoyance. When will the two of you finally realize these things?

You’re sitting in the back kitchen with a piece of chocolate cake as the event wraps up. Carrie told you that you could just sit in the back if you didn’t want to go out. Yeah, that’s what you did. You didn’t want to see Jamie again because you didn’t know what the shift in your guys’ relationship was. You needed to talk to Lisa as soon as you could before you saw Jamie again. Sadly, the universe didn’t care that much about what you felt.

“Is this the pity party?” Jamie asks as he sits across from you. He grabs the fork in your hand and takes a bite out of your cake.

“Hey!” you jokingly scold. “And no, this isn’t a pity party. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You could have come and found me, you know.”

You open your mouth to say something but close it right away.

“What?” Jamie asks with his mouth full of cake.

“Stop eating my cake,” you tell him and take your fork out of his hand. “Should you really be eating this anyway?”

“It’s cake.”

“Yeah, and you’re a professional athlete.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating only healthy things?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“But you’re eating cake.”

“Oh, now I get what you're saying,” Jamie says to you. “Just don’t tell the nutrition staff.”

“Then maybe you should wipe that chocolate icing off your face,” you joke.

“Oops, my bad,” Jamie begins wiping the icing off his face but misses.

“Here, let me,” you say and scoot your chair closer to him. You use your thumb and wipe the icing off your face. “Better.”

“Thank you,” Jamie says to you, and his face gets closer to yours so close that your foreheads are touching. “Yn, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you say to him, realizing how close your face is to his.

“You know how you asked me earlier today about why I was mad?” Jamie asks, and you nod. “Well, I wasn’t entirely telling you the truth. Yes, Ryan said something I didn’t like. When you walked to the washroom, I was staring at you because you were so beautiful. One of the guys told me to stop staring at you, and Ryan asked if I liked you. I don’t know why, but I told him no even though I’m so in love with you. Ryan then said that he was going to ask you out, and I got mad. I got mad because I want to be the one to love you, and I think Ryan might be the one to get that first.”

You pull back slightly, shocked. “What?”

“I’m in love with you; I always was.”

There’s no way you feel the same way. Where did that come from? “What? No, Jamie. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve treated me like shit our entire life. There is no way you’re in love with me. No, you’re not. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You get up abruptly and walk out of the kitchen.

You walk to go find Carrie, so you could tell her you were going to head home. You were going to tell her you feel sick, which you do. You find Carrie and tell her you’re going to head home. She says it’s fine, and you head to the exit.

“Yn, wait, don’t leave because of me,” Jamie says to you as you’re about to leave. Somehow, he found you and was following you.

“No, Jamie, if you didn’t want me to leave, you shouldn’t have said those things to me. Why? Do you hate me that much that you want to mess with me so badly?”

“What? No, of course not. I don’t hate you, yn!”

“That’s rich; I’m leaving. Goodnight, Jamie.”

You don’t see the fallen look on Jamie’s face as you walk away, but his teammates do. Jamie goes back to his table but doesn’t say anything. Why did he think you’d ever feel the same way? Because he was nice for a few months? No, he should have known better. This was his fault, and he had to live what he did.

You held in your tears until you got to your car. The minute your door closed, you broke down. How dare he do this to you? How dare Jamie say something like that to mess with you? What was his problem? Why would he do that?

You and Jamie both went home miserable that night. Jamie went home heartbroken, and you went home angry and annoyed. What happens next?

. . .

You called in sick the Monday after Casino Night. You weren’t ready to face Jamie even though you knew that you’d probably not see him. You weren’t sure what to think. Jamie was always someone that you knew would be in your life. However, you always thought he’d be there as your lifelong enemy who you happened to still be in semi-contact with because your parents were friends. As of late, though, you’ve been seeing Jamie as a friend. You weren’t going to lie, you found Jamie ridiculously attractive, and ever since the accident you had where you and Jamie finally talked, you began to see him in a different light. Instead of your first thought being how much you hated him, you thought about the good things he had to himself. You saw how friendly he was to everyone, and he always asked how you were. He had a selflessness to himself that you were starting to love about him.

“Why are you telling me all this, yn?” Lisa asks you exasperated. “I always thought that the two of you were perfect for each other, even in high school. Don’t lie, you thought about it, too.”

You pause for a moment carefully thinking about what you were going to say. “I guess you’re right. I did have a small crush on him in high school because, for almost six months, he was mostly nice to me.”

“And what about now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes, please, Lisa.”

“I think you’re in love with him, too. I think you always have been; I think he’s one of those people that is always going to be in your life whether or not you like it. At first, everyone thought you two were going to be the best of friends and take over the world. That all changed when he tripped you and the rest is history, but I think it’s different now. This time around, you both are mature adults who, I think, subconsciously realized that the way they dealt with the crushes they had on each other was by absolutely hating each other. You both didn’t know what to do, so you’re coping mechanism? Hate each other senselessly because you didn’t know what else. Now, Jamie realized how he feels and wants that with you. He said it first, right? Maybe he wants to show you he’s changed and truly loves you now.”

“I guess you’re kind of right,” you tell Lisa. “I just, I don’t know how I feel.”

“Do you find him attractive?”

“Yes, of course, he’s gorgeous.”

“Did you always think that?”

“Yes, because he’s always been gorgeous.”

“Was one of the reasons you hated him because he was so gorgeous?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Lisa,” you tell your best friend skeptically.

“My point is that if you truly hated him, you wouldn’t have called him gorgeous so quickly. I think you would have just denied finding him attractive and that’s that. Now that you know what nice and kind Jamie is like, I think you want more. You want to have more with him because you’ve seen what a great person Jamie is. Because you’ve seen the goodness, you want more and all of it. Can you say that you currently hate Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being?”

“No, I cannot say that I hate Jamie Oleksiak with my entire being.”

“Your first reaction to him telling you how he feels was not to punch him or to hurt him, was it?”

“No, I guess it wasn’t,” you say calmly.

“What was it then, yn?”

“In my head, and I don’t know why I said it, but it was ‘there’s no way you feel the same way', and I was surprised those words even formed in my head.”

“Don’t you see, yn? You feel the same way! You just didn’t know it! Your head and heart have been trying to tell you how you feel by spreading warmth to your face, making you feel shy, or just wanting to be around him. Yn, you’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“Holy shit, I’m in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“You’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak, yn.”

“Oh dear goodness, what do I do now, Lisa?”

“Apologize and tell him.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I can do that, right?”

“If you want to be with him, then yeah.”

“Okay, I can do that, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? What could possibly go wrong?”

. . .

Believe it or not, a lot. The next day, you were set to go back to work, but you woke up with a massive migraine, an aching cough, and a debilitating stomach ache. You couldn’t go to work feeling like this, so you called in sick for real this time. You finally had the courage to go see a doctor, and they told you it was just a bug. They gave you some antibiotics, and you were back to work in three days.

On the Saturday after Casino Night, Carrie asked if you could fill in for the media team, and you agreed enthusiastically. Maybe you’d finally be able to see Jamie and talk to him?

Unfortunately, that was not the case. You weren’t outright trying to talk to Jamie or get his attention, but you weren’t not doing that. You tried to act normal, but Jamie wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You were able to catch him alone after the game, but when you called out to him, he didn’t respond. You went home that night crying thinking you ruined something great without knowing you had something great at the tip of your fingers.

The following Monday, you were sitting in the GM’s offices when Jamie walked in looking for one of the team managers. You were the one of two sitting in the room, and Jamie walked to the other person who was on the far side of the room to ask if the manager was there. You’ll admit, that hurt.

You saw Jamie a few days later on your way to the locker room to give some paperwork to the coaching staff. You were about to turn the corner when your foot got stuck in a loose floorboard, and you went tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?” someone asks you as you try to get up.

“I mean, considering I just fell to the ground, no, but thanks for asking,” you answer and lookup. “Jamie.”

“Yn,” he replies back to you. “I’m going to go.”

“Jamie, wait, please.”

“What, yn? Are you going to reject me again because I don’t want to have that conversation with you, then.”

“When we both aren’t at work and in a public place, can we please talk?”

“Why should I agree to that, yn? Because, for your information, you’re breaking my heart. I can’t do this if you’re just going to make me feel terrible.”

You falter slightly when Jamie tells you that you’re breaking his heart. “I’m really sorry, can we just please pick a time and place to talk?”

“Sure, right here, right now.”

“Jamie, that’s not what I --”

“No, if you want to talk, then right here. I don’t want to have this conversation later if you’re going to reject me again.”

You’re getting kind of sick and tired of Jamie insisting that you’re going to reject him again because you’re not. “Jamie! I’m not going to reject you again! Do you think I’m some kind of heartless monster who loves to see you suffer? Guess what, I don’t! I hate that my words made you hurt and put you in a terrible mood. I apologize for that. You know you got to speak your mind, isn’t it time for me to be able to speak mine?”

Jamie is about to say something, but you stop him.

“No, I’m not going to break your heart, I promise. Just listen, okay?”

Jamie nods and takes one step towards you.

“Casino Night? You caught me off guard. My entire life, I hated you and that was all I knew. Wake up? Hate Jamie. Go to bed? Hate Jamie. You have to admit, though, you didn’t make it hard, but that’s beside the point. When I literally ran into you all those months ago, I picked up where we left off because that was all I knew. Then, come to find out, I didn’t like that. When I tripped over your foot and we talked? That was the shift inside of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling. The next few things I’m going to say I didn’t makeup on my own, Lisa helped me with it. She told me that I got to experience nice and kind Jamie, and I loved it. I did, I loved being on the receiving end of it. She was saying how I wanted more, all of the love and kindness you have to offer. She’s not wrong. I want everything you have to offer because I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“Casino Night? I didn’t know what I was feeling. If you gave me a bit more time, on my own, then I think I would have realized it soon. I’m not sure if you know this, but in sophomore year of high school, I had a crush on you because, for once, you were quite nice to me. I like nice Jamie because he makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jamie Oleksiak, I’m in love with you even though I spent almost twenty years hating you. And, that’s all I have to say, so I’m going to go now.”

You begin to turn around, but Jamie’s next words leave you stunned. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were three.”

“What?”

“When we were three years old, I realized I had a crush on you. I wouldn’t have called it a crush, but I always saw how in love my parents were and one day wanted that with you. You know how children get ‘married’? Well, I wanted to marry you. I didn’t know how to process how I felt so I treated you like shit and for that, I’m sorry. I realized I was in love with you in high school, but at that point, too much damage was created for me to go back and change things. When I saw you again a few months back, I realized that I never really got over you, and I wanted more with you.”

You take a step forward. “So.”

“So?”

“So, we’re two idiots who are in love with each other, then?”

“So we are,” Jamie says to you with a smile.

“Now what do we do?” you ask.

“Well, I’d like to take you out for dinner and maybe kiss you? Then, take you out for dinner again and call you my girlfriend. What do you think?”

“I think you should kiss me now and we can just jump to the ‘I’m your girlfriend’ part.”

“That’s a deal,” Jamie says and leans down to kiss you. He places a gentle kiss on your lips before leaning back to take a breath. He leans in again, and you both deepen the kiss he places on your lips. All of five seconds pass when you hear cheering behind you. “I guess this is why you wanted to talk in private, right?”

You laugh. “Yeah, it was. Maybe you should listen to me more often.”

“Well, now that you’re my girlfriend, I guess I have more of a reason to.”

“And why’s that?”

“So I get to keep you and love you forever?”

You smile and say, “that I can do.” You perch upon your tippy-toes and kiss Jamie again. Who knew that two childhood enemies could one day learn to love each other?

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[girlmeetsliv3]

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

           “Please state your name for the record.”

           “Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

           “This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

           “Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

           YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

           “What news channel and around what time?”

           “KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

           YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

           Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

           Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

           Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

           Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

           Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

           “Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

           Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

 “Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her.  At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

 Evening of June 20th, 2021

           Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

           “I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

           “I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

           “NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

           She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

           That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

           “Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

             The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

           “Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

           Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

           “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

[natromanxoff]

Record Mirror (July 14, 1979): 119/?

THE QUEEN BACKLASH ENDS HERE

WITHOUT DOUBT Queen are among that elite number of bands universally hated by the rock press.

The rancour is, make no mistake, mutual which is understandable. If you find yourself on the receiving end of an inveterate dislike at the outset of your career and watch it being nurtured and carefully cultivated over the next six years you’re bound to retaliate.

Queen’s hatred manifests itself by their continued habit of ignoring the music press i.e. refusing to give interviews. There is the occasional token “chat”, pointless as it is innocuous, but in the main it amounts to a blanket “No.”

One of the last interviews Freddie Mercury gave was the last nail in the perspex coffin. Under a headline which boldly asked ‘Is This Man A Prat?’ the king of the leotards was demolished by one of the old school Queen haters and Freddie obviously came to the conclusion, in its wake, that interviews in future would be both superfluous (he was popular enough) and detrimental.

The curtain, velvet naturally, closed.

Roger Taylor, a little wary, a little weary, sits stiffly in an armchair. The juggernauts rattling the Chelsea Street outside create a sonorous buzz bomb hum in the room.

You expect a member of Queen to look elegant. In fact Roger is only wearing a wine colour mohair jacket, black shirt and blue jeans.

He apologises for being a little late and explains how he went to the wrong address. Roger seems to be the only member of Queen left who is prepared, albeit rarely, to open his mouth in the presence of a hack. A question springs to mind . . . why?

“We all sat around a table before I flew over from Munich to discuss the press situation and we agreed I should be the one to represent the band. Freddie is very uncompromising and refuses to have much to do with journalists.

“Obviously, he’s had a few raw deals with them in the past,” observes Taylor.

Roger himself has a rather low view of the music press.

“Most of it is rubbish. There was something I liked recently, a piece on Malcolm McLaren, but in the main I think I’m the only one of Queen to actually read the music papers.”

Why does he think the band are systemically slagged?

“I think it’s because Queen have always come across as being a rather confident band. We seemed, to other people at least, to be very sure of ourselves. I think the press may have misconstrued the confidence, mistaking it for a form of arrogance. Hence they became wary of our motives which bred a dislike for our music.”

Now that’s what I call a neat conclusion.

At the risk of being sent to Coventry by my colleagues I’d like, if I may, to come clean. I love Queen (you’re fired, Ed).

I think it all began with a simple pre-packed but indisposable line – “Dynamite with a laser beam” and has continued uninterrupted (despite the occasional flaw) right through to ‘Queen Live Killers’.

A combination of reasons, Freddie Mercury’s lascivious lisp – the most attractive intonation known to man . . . Brian May’s reel ‘em off rococo riffs that would, in his capable hands, transform the theme music for ‘Waggoners’ Walk’ into a meisterwork . . . John Deacon’s almost stoic stance, incongruous yet integral . . . Roger Taylor’s intense power, so unexpected from one so slight . . . the ability to go over the top without failing into the trap of caricature . . . a desire to give the punters what they want without pandering . . . that cast iron confidence . . . those nine glorious winter weeks of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which kept the cold away from my soul . . .

Yes, I love Queen.

Roger explains the story behind ‘Killers’ which features just about every Queen classic which ever found its way into a silk lined memory bank.

“We always knew that one day we would make a live album. I think it was well planned. About 90 per cent of our last European tour was recorded on a mobile unit and we then spent weeks sitting through the songs in the studio.

“The result is a 100 per cent LIVE album. Nothing has been touched up in the process of selection, I think that’s pretty rare these days. Many ‘live’ albums are tampered with.”

The choice of single is unusual – ‘Love Of My Life’. “It’s not so unusual when you hear the way it came out. The song seems to have such a wide appeal. Everywhere we go the reaction to it is the same. The audience are just bursting to sing along.”

The result is Queen’s best single since ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ (that was their LAST one crawler, ED)

As I mentioned earlier the band are currently residing in Munich where they are “experimenting” in the studio.

“We are recording in a totally different way for us,” says Roger who speaks with a delicate London accent only typical of cockneys with dramatic training and David Essex.

“Every time we entered a studio in the past we had a good idea of what we were going to do. This time we started from scratch and the result is amazing. The music is nothing like anything we’ve done before, I guess you could say it’s much simpler.”

And this novel approach to their music also extends to their shows. On their next British tour – in the late Autumn – the band will be playing much smaller venues than they are accustomed to.

“In London for example we went to play to audiences of about two or three thousand in different areas. I think it’s much fairer to the fans.”

But won’t this affect their stage show which is after all a crucial factor for any powerpomp outfit?

“Not really. We will just scale down the show accordingly. Besides,” he says taking another bite out of the biscuit, “we haven’t used dry ice in years.”

The monkey on Queen’s back, as corpulent and cantankerous as ever, has been put there by those who firmly believe the band can never emulate past achievements. Roger is cognizant of its presence but refuses to unpeel its bananas.

“That all began after ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. When it stayed at number one all those weeks we were kindly informed that we would never be able to make another single to rival it both artistically and from the point of view of sales.

“Yet ‘We Are The Champions’ sold a great deal more and has since become the biggest selling single in the entire history of Elektra Asylum – our label in the States.

“We don’t do the amazingly complex things any more because we’ve moved on from that. We concentrate on the music we are doing now and we intend to do it the best we can, it’s ridiculous looking behind and and what you’ve done.

“There’s nothing like going back on the road to re-unite the bond between the four personalities and strengthening our belief in the band. We are a real working unit and, in my experience of the music business, one of the most democratic bands around today.”

A statement like that cries out to be expounded.

“People think every member of all the bands, not naming any names, are treated equally that is get the same money as their colleagues. That’s rubbish. In many bands there are a couple of guys that get all the money. The rest are on wages. Queen share the profits equally.”

And they don’t have a manager taking his cut either, John Reid departed a couple of years back and now the band themselves make all the major policy decisions. Why did they decide to dispense with the services of a manager?

“Basically because we were fed up with giving other people money. Y’know it never ceases to amaze me how naive those guys are in bands who have just had their first hit. After all this time I’ve forgotten just how naive we must have been at the beginning.

“I mean, everything seems so great when you get into the charts for the first time. You’re living on cloud nine and nothing else matters. But in truth that hit means absolutely nothing. So few people achieve any amount of financial success in this business.

“Oh, you think, you’re really living . . . for a while. Somebody gets you a flat in Chelsea and it’s all free. But one day the rent stops being paid for you and you realise you’re skint.

“Since John Reid has gone the four of us have always made a point of discussing everything together. We have various people working for us but all the important decisions are made by us alone. That way we get freedom of choice – and financial independence.”

My attention is suddenly diverted.

“FORTY-LOVE!” Wimbledon, the Persil White opiate for the hoi polloi squashed in a strawberry crush wrings out its perspiring petticoats on the TV in the next room.  Roger’s girlfriend, an extremely attractive French girl called Dominique, is engrossed. The couple have lived together for two years. Crippled old marriage questions permeate the air.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” says Roger. “It’s simply a contract and the fewer contracts I enter into the better. If you get on well with someone then there isn’t any harm in living with that person – but marriage is something else again.”

They live in a six bedroomed Victorian house just outside London, which is set in 20 acres. Roger has a “tiny” town house in Barnes as well. What’s it like having a bank full of money at the age of 29?

“I don’t hide away from life. Queen have never been one of those ‘being grabbed in the street’ type bands. It may happen when the four of us are together – but when we are out alone we are seldom bothered. That gives me the opportunity to enjoy myself. I go to clubs a lot. I like having a good time. I don’t think you could describe any of the band as leading sheltered lives.

“But I have completely lost touch with how much things cost. When you find yourself living in hotels for so long you never really deal in money as such. Everything is available whenever you want it – but you never see the cash actually being handed over.

“I’ve forgotten what it was like to be penniless which Queen were for years. I guess that must happen to many successful rock bands.”

Another thing that happens to many successful rock bands – they quit the country. But not Queen it appears.

“We have always based ourselves in England and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so. We could leave at any time but we choose to stay. People believe we are tax exiles because we spend a lot of the time out of the country recording in studios all over Europe and touring.”

And what will happen when the band finally trudge wearily down the road leading to that  ivory strewn elephants’ graveyard . . . ?

“I know it’s bound to happen one day. I suppose I’d take a long, long holiday . . . and then make a solo album.”

[bubsthebee]

Can’t Say It.

Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 3,541

A/N: Fluff, dragged out but it’s a happy ending. One shot. Age difference (9 years) Reader is 22 while Aizawa is 31. Mentions of alcohol.  

Reader is a young teacher at UA who has a unique relationship with Pro Hero and coworker Eraserhead. After a while of getting to know each other, will they realize their feelings? OR will they let self doubt get in the way. 

CHARACTER REPORT

Position: UA SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION 

Job Description: Quirk Analysis and Evaluation Processing. 

Name: (L/N), (F/N)                Power: 2/5 D    Intelligence: 4/5 B

Birthday: (5/10)                     Speed: 2/5 B    Cooperativeness: 5/5 A

Age: 22                                 Technique: 5/5 S

Sex: Female (She/Her)

Quirk: Analysis 

-(Y/N) is able to instantly analyze a person and their abilities after observing them, familiarizing themselves with their qurik. This also includes evaluating/predicting situations with higher than average accuracy. With this ability, she can use this information with or against a subject. She can keep up to three peoples' worth of information perfectly memorized at a time. Anymore, her analysis starts to create more errors and her accuracy decreases. 

--

Ever since (y/n) started working at UA, everyone knew that Aizawa’s single streak was in danger. 

While the scruff chined 1-A homeroom teacher taught his bustling young hero course, she supported the admin staff! Specifically falling under processing and evaluating every student's quirk and how to help progress their potential. This means every homeroom teacher ran their notes and evaluations about their students through her every quarter, possibly more depending on how active and intense their training has been. She and her small team are a key to the school’s successful hero and support course. No matter how a quirk was used, they would find the best way to help them improve it. 

Classroom 1-A currently holds the record for most updates and changes to analysis (surprise). With an increase in updates, (y/n) has spent more sleepless nights making sure her work was perfect than she originally thought she was going to. Not that she minded of course! She was young, and found that it helped drive her to improve her passions and skill. Besides her administrative work, she also works as a substitute teacher for English, and Hero Strategy lessons twice a semester. If needed she is more than happy to help with summer lessons. 

Aizawa has had more than his fair share of interaction with the young lady, more than others if one was keeping track. After the hero noticed (y/n)’s sleepless nights because of his students, he offered to stay and bring her coffee. When (y/n) noticed extra heavy bags under his eyes, there would be a nicely wrapped lunch on his desk with a cute thank you note in return. 

Over time a unique relationship developed between the two that anyone looking in could clearly see. Including the students. 

“Mr Aizawa! Your lady friend left ya another lunch, you’re so LUCKY.” Denki and Mineta whined without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we get cute lunches made by cute girls?” 

“Shut up! That’s Ms. (L/n) you’re talking about, not some side chick you dumbos. I think it’s really sweet.” Mina cooed alongside some of the other girls. 

Their homeroom teacher could only sigh, carefully tucking away the lunch box into his work desk as he partially ignored their scattered comments. “Lucky or not, you all should have your notes out and study. Your test scores from  last week clearly tell me I haven’t given enough in class work time. Do I have to cut down on our outside training hours?” The instant shuffling of paper and pencils brought a small smirk to his face. Nothing got his students off his back faster than less training hours. As he took attendance and organized his schedule, the small peeks at the lunch box reminded him about his last encounter with his….coworker. 

--

“Midoriya is such a strange boy you know? I’m surprised his quirk doesn't instantly tear his body apart every time he uses it. I’m glad he’s getting a handle on it, I hated seeing him hurt himself so often.”  You were sat cross legged in your office chair, typing away at your laptop underneath a bright desk lamp. 

“I agree, he needs to learn how to use his body with his quirk.” 

“Exactly!- Well, it looks like his rate of injuries compared to training has decreased. Based off of Recovery Girls records, his quirk usage deteriorated his arm muscle effectiveness. This means he’s got to either limit his usage on his arms, or learn how to use the rest of his body to compensate.” Rubbing your eyes shifted your reading glasses off of your face, exposing the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. 

“You shouldn’t be getting such heavy bags under your eyes like that, you’re too young for those (L/n).” He always notices them, no matter how well hidden. 

“Ya, okay GRAMPS. You’re not that much older than me and YOUR eyes are just as bad, if not worse. And call me (y/n), we’re friends aren't we?” 

Rolling his eyes, Aizawa gets up with a huff to pour some coffee from the nearby coffee pot. “Midoriya is your last report tonight right? Go home, you’ve got Hero Strategy classes tomorrow.” as if on cue, he hands you the cup of warm coffee while you reach out for it with a quiet “Thank you”. 

The way you hold the cup in your hands and let the warm steam brush against your face leaves him staring at you with a soft look. 

“I guess I could leave a little earlier than I thought....” blowing cool air onto the coffee, you slowly take a sip of the warm beverage. Every time you see that look on his face, you can’t help but wonder what he’s feeling. 

After a short while, you both clean up and close the office up. It’s 1 AM and both of you are more than ready to get at least a few hours of sleep in. Like usual, he walks you halfway to your home before bidding his own goodbye. 

“Goodnight (L/n).” As Aizawa turns to walk away, he feels a small tug at his sleeve. 

“I uh-” Turning to look around, he sees you with pinker cheeks underneath a streetlight. How do you always look so...nice? No matter the light you always look nice. 

You slowly slid your hand down his arm to gently hold onto his hand. It was so soft, not just the hold but your skin. You couldn't even look at him but your voice was clear as day. 

“Thank you, for staying with me. I know how tired you must be too….so I feel honored that you decide to spend your important time with me- er, to help me. You’re a great teacher and man Aizawa. Good night.” Just as quick as the moment had started, your touch was gone and you made your way home. 

He was alone, yet he could still feel your touch on his skin. Aizawa stood there for minutes, looking at his hand in awe and strange curiosity. His coworkers and friends told him multiple times, “You two aren’t a thing?”, “It’s obvious that you fancy her Shouta.”, 

“She has to feel the same, you don’t see how she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.” 

--

         The school bell alerting the start of their first class was what pulled Aizawa out of his mind, looking up to see (y/n) walk into the class with your information tablet. ‘Ah, right. Hero Strategy.’          “Good Morning class! Great to see you all again.” She was chipper as always, her makeup easily covering her endeavors from the night before. The young teacher wore simple black tights with her training sweat jacket, everyone murmured in excitement because this meant that there would be out of class training and demonstrations          Rubbing his exhaustion from his face, the black haired male stands up to go stand near (y/n). “You all have ten minuets to change and get to the field. Any longer and you’ll be stuck in cleaning duty for the week.”

         Iida is quick to stand and grab his fellow classmates attention. “Quickly but in order, please gather your things and head to the gym! No RUNNING!” As valiant as his efforts were, everyone rushed out of the class in fear of being put into the cleaning crew while it was out of their turn. 

         The small smile he saw on your face was sobering, calmly following behind you as you made your way to the gym. 

         Usually, Aizawa would sneak into his sleeping back and nap during other teachers' lessons. These ones were different for him. He would sit off to the side and observe how you worked with the kids.

 While some students could take simple suggestions and immediately apply them, others needed physical examples. You were more than happy to adapt to all their needs as they all trained with their new plans and teachers notes. While Tokoyami nodded and talked with Dark Shadow about your observations, Uraraka carefully mimicked your moves as you slowly countered her attacks explaining how they affected her opponent's momentum even more. 

         He knew you were a natural when it came to children and hero work. The obvious proof was right in front of him. That and he was nine years older than you, yet you both were doing almost the exact same job. That's where everything starts to blur for him. 

         After a quick practice round with Shoji, a rundown with Bakugo about his quirk usage along with Midoriya and the rest of the class, their first class of the day was over. 

         The rest of the day went normal, and (Y/n) left to finish the rest of her lessons while Aizawa did the same. 

 --

         After a long week, you were more than happy to have the weekend to yourself, or so you thought. 

Incoming Call: Keigo <(‘v’)> 

“Keigo?”

 “Hey tiny, sorry to bother but I felt like I should call in and see how you were doing.” 

 “I’m fine, just getting ready to watch some movies and order take in. Had a long week. You?” 

 “Gonna be heading out to an event soon! Glad to hear you're doing good. Any luck with your crush on the office grandpa?”

 You roll your eyes as you wiggle yourself into more blankets, clicking through the different documentaries you could find on YouTube.

  “I don’t have a crush on Aizawa, and even IF I did he is NOT a grandpa. He would probably want someone closer to his age anyway. The whole life experience gap and everything.” 

 “Yeah okay, whatever. Don't get mad at me when you realize I’m right and you're missing out on not being single anymore.” 

 “You’ll be the first person I call when you’re actually right. ” “Ouch-” 

 “Pfft, talk to you later Kei. I have an hour long video about the origin of heroes and it’s calling my name.” 

 “Bye bye!” 

-

         No matter how relaxed you were or how interesting the documentary was, you couldn't get you know who out of your mind. Could you have a crush on Aizawa Shouta? Silver Fox hero of the night? Grumpy man who likes taking naps in the middle of the day? You couldn’t lie, he was attractive and his personality was more than pleasant to you at least. It always felt like something was there between you two..between late night talks and having lunch together sometimes. It felt like there was a connection, and the only thing keeping you two from connecting was a waterfall of hesitation and doubt. 

 “Whatever…”

--

         “WoooOO! Staff Party, this is gonna be a blast Listeners! Present Mic here to keep your evening thrilling with an amazing music selection!” 

         Upbeat music with minimal words played through the old speakers of a rented out ballroom. It was the end of the first semester staff party, everyone was dressed semi formal with their hair done nicely and makeup to match. The decorations were nice, and tables were laid out with food, drinks and chairs to relax and chat. 

         Aizawa was one of the first to show up since he and Yamada came together like usual. Although he socialized with other teachers as they passed by, he stayed closer to the walls and talked with Kayama most of the time. He was dressed fairly well, a simple fitted dark g suit coat with normal slacks. The usually wild and wavy mess of locks was neatly tied back into a very clean half knot that showed off his handsome face. 

         “No date Shouta? I was sure that pretty young thing would be with you tonight. (L/n) Right, she’s such a lovely girl.” Kayama’s hair was curled beautifully around her, a long fitted dress with a deep V cut showing off her lovely charm. Aizawa only rolled his eyes, sipping on his Champaign class to avoid talking even if it was just for a second more. 

         “It would make more sense for her to come in with someone closer to her age or with a friend. She is the youngest person on staff you know.” 

         “Age this age that blah blah BLAH. I know love when I see it-” 

         “Not love, this isn’t some romance film Nemuri.” 

         With a small and understanding smile, Nemuri reaches out to gently pat her dear friend's shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to realize that the things that are holding you back are nothing but a reflection of your own worries. I know you’ll figure it out. You both will. Now try to have fun-” Her attention was stolen away for a moment, a glint of excitement in her eyes clear as day. “If you’re worried about how she feels and how she’s doing, why don't you go show her around and make sure she feels welcomed?” 

         Turning around, the first thing Aizawa see’s is you. A cheesy thing to say, but he almost feels his heart skip a bit.  

         You wore a black turtleneck underneath a midnight blue spaghetti strap dress that fit you just right. Knitted knee high socks and stylish black heel boots finished off your look along with a beautiful pearl pendant necklace. Your hair looked soft and styled in a way he had never seen it before. Your eyes were done up just enough in a way that made them shine even more than they usually do.

         He’s trapped, and he is slowly realizing that he never wants to be set free. 

         When your eyes scan the room for anything familiar, they finally land on a set of eyes that are looking right back at you. You have to stop yourself from visibly gasping, why did his eyes feel so intense? What was he thinking as he made his way across the room to you. 

         Like Moses and the sea, everyone carefully parted to let you both have your moment. They all knew the chemistry between you too, and were more than happy to leave you  alone as they carried on with their conversations and laughter. 

         “You look beautiful.” His voice was low, and held a sense of hesitant tenderness even he was unsure of. You knew he meant it. 

         “And you look very handsome, you even shaved for the party.” With a small laugh you gently ran the back of your fingers across his shaved cheek. This wasn't new, you had done this exact touch multiple times before when you made fun of his stubble yet- it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Aizawa knew he didn't mind it. 

         Carefully sliding his hand into yours, he lifts it up to press a soft and long kiss to your knuckles. “It is a special occasion. Would you like to join me tonight?” He was never a man who cushioned his words, straight to the point and expressing just how he felt was never an issue. You were different. 

         Accepting his offer, you move to accept his offered arm. The night starts slow as you both walk around and chat with other faculty members you work with. With Aizawas help you were confident that you were able to make some new friends, maybe going to this party wasn't so bad after all.

         Everything else almost felt like a breeze. Laughs were shared, drinks were drank- and barriers were being broken down. You and Aizawa found yourselves slowly standing closer and closer together, close enough to where your fingers would brush against each other when one of you moved. All of Pro Hero Eraserhead’s friends could only watch with warm and excited smiles for him. 

         Like always, nights must always come to an end. 

         While some people left to retire for the night, others stayed longer to help clean or help more than drunk coworkers make it home safe. “I’m helping Nemuri make it home Sho! You gonna be okay making it back tonight?” Yamada had Nemuri balancing into his side, laughing as she drunkenly waved some of the others goodbye. “Oh! You all can head back home together if you’d like. I’m just helping clean a bit before I head back home.” you politely cut into their little chat, holding a medium sized black trash bag in your hands. 

         Taking a moment, Aizawa starts to shrug off his coat as he takes the garbage away from you. “I’ll stay behind to help clean. If you’re alright with it I can walk you home.” with wide eyes, the younger teacher could only nod before she turned away to hide her reddening cheeks to pick up more trash and plates. 

         “No worries, now get em TIGEr. RaaArW-” As Kayama tried to cheer her friend on, Yamada tugged her away with an amused laugh of his own. 

          Not even an hour later, everyone was out and the sky was as dark and it could be. The only stars you could see were the large ones as the light pollution shrouded out the smaller and weaker stars. 

         This time around, Aizawa's coat was wrapped around (y/n) shoulders, her head resting on him as they linked arms on the walk back to her house. Instead of splitting off halfway, he walks her all the way up to her front door. It was silent for a moment, the events from tonight silently washing over them. 

         “Thank you Aizawa, this...was a really nice night. I don't think it would have been as enjoyable as it was without you.” (y/n) broke the silence, turning to face and look up at the man she knew she would never look at the same again. Rubbing his mouth in thought, his eyes flicker between the young woman standing in front of him and the road. 

         “I want to thank you as well. I-.” He paused for a moment. 

         “I would like to kiss you, but I understand if you wouldn't. I think after tonight you know what my feelings are for you. I didn't even know about them fully until tonight. Kayama- Midnight was right. I was letting my worries hold me back when I should have been forward like I always am-”  

         Time freezes when he feels your hands pull down his face, your lips eagerly pressing into a kiss with such raw love and desperation. Instantly his arms move around to gently lift you up into him. One minute, two..three. You both only break apart for air and your warm breaths mingle against each other. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now I think. My friend was right haha...maybe I do have a crush on you. I was just worried because I had no idea if you would even be interested in a relationship, let alone with someone as...young as me. I feel like a high schooler again haha.” 

         The fact that you were able to laugh the way you did and still hold him in your arms brought flutters to his chest. He knew now that he more than just saw you as a coworker or a close friend. He wants to be more. “I know what you mean. Who would want to be with someone as old as me? I would never want to make you feel like I was holding you back.” He would never admit it, but he felt like a young adult experiencing love for the first time...it was a bit embarrassing (in a good way.) 

         “You make me feel so helpless sometimes you know that?” pulling his head down again, (y/n) presses another soft kiss to Aizawa’s forehead. “What am I gonna do with you Aizawa?” 

         “Shouta.”

         “Huh?”

         “Shouta, call me Shouta if you want.” Thankful that it was dark out, he could feel himself heat up at the intimate suggestion. 

         With the way your eyes sparkled while you said his name, he knew he was hooked. There is no going back.          “What am I gonna do with you, Shouta?” 

         “You’ll figure it out eventually. I’ll help you along the way as long as you’ll help me too.” The shared silence was an unbroken promise to do the best you both can. 

         After sharing your final kiss good night, you watch Shouta walk down the street and out of view before returning into the comfort of your home. The jacket around your shoulders smelt strongly of the stoic man you now called yours. Enjoying the warmth and comfort his coat brought you, kicking off your boots you hop over your couch and settle into a comfortable position. 

 Calling: Keigo <(‘V’)>

 “WHY are you calling me at….2 in the MORNING. You gave me a damn heart attack-” 

 “You were right.” your voice was soft and held no regrets. 

 “Right? Right about what?” 

 “You were right, I did have feelings for Shouta. I said you would be the first person to call if you were right. And well, you were right.”          The next hour was spent catching your best friend up on everything that happened tonight. 

-

         On the other side of the story, Aizawa finally made it home and had no problem finding sleep that night. He felt as ease knowing that things weren't going to turn out as bad as he thought it originally was going to be. 

         He can't say it, not yet. 

         But he is in love. 

         And so are you.

[janetbrown711]

“   it’s  okay ,   i’m  here .   i’ll  always  be  here .   ” Wakko yakko dot

Wakko wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. 

He was barely holding on as it was, always trying to keep on a happy face for his sibs, make them believe everything was okay. Dot was a lot easier to trick than Yakko, but even he could be swayed with very little effort. After all, it was very clear that their parents were never going to come back...

It had been almost a year. Wakko still missed them every day. He missed their protection... Yakko was trying, that was true, but even he could get distracted. Sometimes he’d be studying off in the library when Wakko needed food, so he’d have to figure it out on his own because God knows he couldn’t ask his grandmother for anything. Wakko figured it out for the most part, but it was easy to say he missed quite a few meals over the years because of fear of disturbing Her. 

Wakko knew she placed his room by hers for the specific purpose of making his life a living hell without his sibs. After all, she hated him. The only reason she’d want to be near is if she wanted to keep an eye out, or if she wanted to hurt him somehow. Well- she succeeded on that end anyway, though perhaps the better word was torture. 

Sure, sometimes Wakko could manage to sneak past if he crawled on his hands and knees and put socks on his feet and hands, but he was filled with anxiety that simply wouldn’t leave him the whole time. He was terrified of getting his sibs in danger- a trait he knew he shared with both of them. 

They were all putting on a happy face, he supposed. 

He couldn’t say it was all bad... he was getting better at reading. Dot read easy stuff which helped him boost his confidence, while Yakko read more difficult stuff to make sure he was actually learning, which- while Wakko kinda hated it- he couldn’t deny worked. He was getting better- he was actually learning things, which felt nice. 

Though they had had a few close calls here and there...

Wakko wasn’t sure what would happen if they got caught, but he was pretty sure they’d get into serious trouble. For whatever reason, Angelina really hated the fact Wakko was stupid but hated him trying to better himself even more. It was like she wanted a bug under her shoe to squish just for fun... the thought made Wakko shudder. 

So... the year had its good moments, but... a year had really taken it’s tole. The only major good part was that Angelina stopped wearing that stupid veil and pretended to be grieving. Now you knew what she was thinking and saying, which... well... good and bad. 

Good and bad. 

“What’s this word, Wakko?” Yakko asked, pointing to a particularly long one on the page in front of Wakko. He frowned at it. 

“I dunno,” he shrugged. 

“You’re a smart kid, sound it out,” Yakko said. Wakko winced a little and looked at the page. 

In truth, he sometimes debated with himself whether it was better to be stupid or to be smart. He wanted to know things, but at the same time knowledge seemed like a burden more than anything. At least- that’s what he got from observing Yakko. Yakko always had something on his mind, something big, while Wakko hardly ever thought about things other than food or some imaginary story he likes playing on repeat to keep himself busy while his sibs were gone. 

“in... for...ma...ti..own?” He looked at his elder brother. 

“Close. Information. Tion sounds like shun,” Yakko pointed out. 

“Right, that’s information,” he nodded. He knew the words, he was nine after all, but reading just make them look unfamiliar. 

Yakko was then going to make him read the full sentence again, but a familiar shout was heard right outside, and the boys froze as the door swung open. 

“Yakko- calm this child down,” Angelina shoved Dot, who was crying, towards Yakko, when her eyes feel upon them. 

“What on earth is going on here?” She glared at Wakko, and he felt his heart beat faster. 

“W-well I-i was just-” Yakko tried to think of what to say as Dot went to him, but Angelina yanked Dot back, before going to Yakko herself and slapping him across the face and he slammed into a bookshelf, books spilling out onto him.

“What did I tell you?! You are not to educate that bastard creature, lest you and him face serious consequences,” She fumed. 

“No!!! Don’t hurt him!!!” Dot continued to cry. Wakko growled and just about lept out of the chair, but Angelina grabbed him by the ears. 

“This is on you,” She spat, and began to drag Wakko out of the room. 

“No! It’s my fault! I forgot the dress type! Please! Punish me instead!” Dot insisted, stepping out in front of Angelina. 

“Oh Angelina,” The queen shook her head, placing a soft hand against Dot’s face. Dot froze.

“If you get in my way again I assure you his punishment will be increased ten fold.” She whispered harshly. 

“Now be a good girl Angelina, and run along now. You have much to study,” She smiled sweetly. 

“My name is Dot,” She muttered to herself, bearing her teeth.

“Dot, no,” Wakko pleaded with her. Angelina tightened her pull on his ears. 

“It’d be wise for you to listen to him for once,” She smiled more. Dot growled again, but stepped backward, and looked back at Wakko. 

“Angelina. Move,” She ordered. Dot looked at the arm holding Wakko, a very obvious thought popping into her head. Angelina growled. 

“I expected more from you,” She said, before kicking Dot to the ground and moving on, giving Wakko’s ears a massive tug before continuing on. 

Wakko heard Dot get up from behind, trying to keep her distance, but her tears made her noticeable. 

Quickly and painfully, they turned around halls and owners of the castle, before Wakko realized she wasn’t going to be putting him in his room, and he was filled his dread and terror. 

“Wh-where are you taking him?!” Dot shouted at her, once she had the same thought. 

“That is none of your concern, Yakko.” She said coldly. “I’m teaching you three a lesson.”

“Let go of him!” Dot shouted again as Angelina started to go up the enormous stairwell. The queen ignored her, climbing higher and higher. 

“I said let him go!” Dot shouted, pulling on her dress like she had a year ago. Angelina froze, before turning around, dangling Wakko off of the stairs above the at least 20 foot drop below, only holding him by his neck.

“Shout at me again young lady, and I will,” She threatened. Dot gasped, covering her mouth. 

“Wait- please! Don’t hurt him-!” She begged, and Wakko did his best not to be terrified for his life but uh- 20 ft drop. 

“Go back downstairs, Angelina. You’ve done enough today,” She spat in her face. Dot wanted to protest, but the queen lifted Wakko higher and Dot backed down, lowering her head in shame as more tears streamed down. 

“Good girl,” The queen smiled, and patted her head, before turning around and continuing to drag Wakko up, Dot’s sobs echoing as they went all the way to the top. At this point, Wakko was pounding and kicking against her best he could, but she proved herself to have gotten wiser about that, as her long silk gloves prevented scratches or bites to her skin, and her pure gold bracelets also didn’t help. 

Eventually, she reached the top of the familiar tower, and she tossed him in like an animal. She closed and locked the heavy iron door and the sound made Wakko’s head hurt. 

“How long do you plan to leave me here, huh?!” He demanded, running to the door. However, to his horror, she left without a word to him. He listened closely to the door, still hearing Dot’s cries when he heard her yelp in pain. Wakko pounded on the door, but since it was no longer wood, all that ended up doing was hurting his hand. Wakko cringed in the pain, but knew there was nothing he could do. 

He was locked in here... for who knows how long. Could be days, weeks... months...

If she even bothered to keep him alive, which was something she was clearly starting to debate more and more as time passed. Wakko didn’t want to die-

At least... not yet. 

Perhaps it was foolish, but he did still have a shred of hope for his future, though it only got cloudier and cloudier as days passed. He tried to remember the advice and optimism of his dad, but that only brought up the painful feeling of him being gone. The same thing happened when he tried to imagine his mom comforting him too. 

After awhile of him just sitting on the cold and filthy floor in shock and pain, he heard pounding on the door. 

“Wakko? Wakko? Are you in there?” Yakko called from outside. 

“Y-yeah!” he replied, wiping his eyes. 

“We-we’re gonna get you out Wakko. I promise,” he declared. 

“Yakko, you can’t promise that,” Wakko frowned. 

“Yes I can Wakko. We’re going to get you out,” He asserted. 

“She’ll kill you- she’ll kill me if you try,” Wakko pleaded. 

“I know... but... w-we’ll escape. Run away to a far off town where no one will find you two. We’ll be safe,” Yakko said, becoming more and more desperate.

“You’ve said it yourself: a place like that doesn’t exist,” Wakko crossed his arms, leaning against the cold door.  He heard Yakko do the same. 

“We... we could...” Yakko tried to think. 

“Yakko... you should just forget about me. You and Dot would be fine without me, I hold you two down. I should just- stay up here and- and die,” Wakko pulled his knees to his chest. 

“Wakko!” he gasped. “Don’t say that!” he said, much softer. 

“Grandma will never care about me, a-and mum and d-daddoo are gone s-so... it would just be easier for me to stay here... away from you two... just like she wants,” He suppressed tears best he could, but choken on the lump in his throat. 

“Wakko, no.” Wakko heard him turn around to face the door again. 

“No matter what happens, we are not going to give up on you. I’m here- I’m always gonna be here, Wak,” He spoke softly. 

“Mum and Dad said they’d be here too...”

A painful silence hummed through the air. It hurt to even breathe after he spoke. Wakko gave in and cried. 

“Wak... I-i... I don’t know what to say...” Yakko said. 

“Just go away- before you get locked away too,” He sobbed. 

Yakko didn’t respond, staying there for a long, long time. 

Wakko didn’t say anything either. 

“We will rescue you Wak... I promise,” Yakko repeated, before standing up and going. 

Wakko stayed on the floor the rest of the day. 

.o0o.

Angelina hadn’t been sending servants to give him food, only water. 

Wakko had been up there for three days and it was easily the most miserable he had ever been in his life. 

He knew his mother had been sent up there at least once. He could see her carvings in the wall, and scratches on the floor, which he traced over his finger and slowly read. 

“Yakko? Slacky? Wacky?” and “Harold the 9th” were written beside the bed. There was a tally for what he assumed were days next to the broken mirror. Other random words he couldn’t quite read were sprawled all around. 

Yakko came up to talk every now and then, but he never could stay long. Wakko kept meaning to ask him for food, but he knew Angelina was strict on eating hours, so it was unlikely he could sneak into the kitchen to grab anything anymore. It just... wasn’t that simple any more. 

He also promised he was thinking of an escape. Wakko thanked him for the effort, but his hope wasn’t high.

Dot came at one point too. She cried and apologized and explained how it was her fault their grandmother got mad, saying how she hadn’t read the page she was supposed to the night before and didn’t know the types of dresses and she got mad, which made her cry, which made her take her to Yakko, which caused everything else. Wakko told her not to blame herself, but he knew that wasn’t going to resinate. Just another way their grandmother tightened her grip around them. 

But for the most part, he was alone. Utterly and perfectly alone...

He had his little imaginary games in his mind, but even those ran out eventually, mostly due to the cold. Stupid early winters...

One particularly cold night, Wakko said “screw it” and went to the window an looked out at the stars. 

They shined a lot better all the way up here, at least that was nice...

As he looked up, a chill ran through him and he was reminded of just how hungry he was. He cringed in the pain, and looked up at the stars, having run out of tears days ago. 

“I... I wish mum and dad were still here... If they were alive everything would go back to being okay...” he whispered weakly to the brightest star he could see. The stars twinkled back. 

Wakko sighed, lowering his head, continuing to look when he noticed that the star appeared to be growing larger- that wasn’t normal, right? And if it’s not, was it actually happening, or was he just seeing things because he was hungry?

It also appeared to be growing closer- that wasn’t good. Too close and it’d probably destroy the whole castle. Wakko scrambled back from the window and pounded on the door for help, but nobody heard or came. Wakko braced himself as the light got brighter and brighter and eventually filled the dark tower. 

However, nothing crashed or burned or turned him into goop, so Wakko slowly turned around and opened his eyes, and he saw a glowing figure in a really poor looking rope, cheap wand, and wings. 

Well- that was interesting. 

“Uh- who are you?” Wakko asked, really uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger popping into his prison out of nowhere. 

“I’m your desire fulfillment facilitator, Pip,” the desire fulfillment facilitator said dryly. Wakko blinked. 

“Uh- hi, Pip,” he said. 

“Congradulations Wakko, you did it. Out of all of the stars in the night sky, you made your wish up the wishing star,” He said, so monotone Wakko wanted to tears his ears off despite the fact that he was saying good news. 

“The Wishing Star? I’ve never heard of a Wishing Star,” He frowned. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stories?” He asked. Wakko shook his head. 

“Hm... doesn’t matter. You did it anyway. It was your request for a wish that brought me here,” he said. 

“Wait- so- you can bring my parents back?” Wakko realized. He nodded, and Wakko almost passed out. 

“You’ve decided on your wish?” He asked. 

“I just said-”

“Right, right. Welp- here it goes,” Pip snapped his fingers, and ball of green light shot across the sky, and crashed far, far away- behind the mountains in the horizon. Wakko frowned. 

“Hey, what gives? It couldn’t be any closer than that?” He frowned. 

“Oh whoops, too late to fix now,” Pip scratched the back of his neck. Wakko gave him a look. “Looks like you have quite the trek ahead of you.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” Wakko couldn’t be sour for long, now entranced by the bright light. 

“And you better be going if you don’t want competition to build up,” Pip added. 

“What?! How am I supposed to reach it if I’m stuck in this tower! These rules are completely unfair,” Wakko crossed his arms. 

“Don’t worry Wakko, your siblings will be coming to get you soon, you’ll just have to tell them where to go,” Pip explained. 

“Huh?” He tilted his head when he heard footsteps not far away from the door. 

“I must go now- just remember this: the one who touches the fallen star first gets their wish. If you aren’t first, you don’t get it,” He said.

“What’s the point of me wishing on the star then, if it’s just up for grabs? that’s lame,” He crossed his arms. 

“Whoops- I gotta go, bye,” He waved and turned to star dust before disappearing completely, right before he heard a knock at the door. 

So much for that guys help. 

“Wakko?” It was Yakko. 

“Yakko? What’re you doing here?” Wakko asked. 

“We’ve come to break you out,” Dot chimed in, and a very, very, very long rope made of several sheets was pushed through his “meal slot”. 

Wakko didn’t know what to say. 

“Tie one end to the hook by the window and climb down- my advice is to not look down and pretend like it’s just training with Dad. Plus, me and Dot will be waiting for you at the bottom,” Yakko explained. 

“Wait- I have to tell you,” Wakko interrupted. 

“What?” Yakko asked, surprised Wakko wasn’t protesting. 

“I-i made a wish at a star tonight and well- apparently it was the wishing star so now we have to go- like... really actually go so I can make my wish and then everything will be okay and happy just like it used to be,” Wakko said. 

“The... wishing star? I thought that was just some kiddy bedtime story...” Yakko said, mostly to himself. 

“Well- apparently not,” Wakko said, taking one end and tying it to the hook like Yakko said. Yakko sighed. 

“We’ll talk about this once you’re down. Me and Dot are gonna wait at the bottom,” He said. 

“Okay... see you on the other side,” Wakko said, making the mistake at looking at how far away down was, but was surprised the rope actually went all the way down. 

That was a lot of sheets. 

“You got this Wakko!” Dot encouraged, before he heard the two of them go. 

Right. He had this. 

He may not have been very smart, but he was a good climber. He could do this...

At least, he hoped anyway. 

He promised right then and there that if he was going to make it out of this alive, he was definitely going to go to the Wishing Star- it couldn’t be more dangerous than climbing down a 50 foot rope made of tied sheets, 

...Could it?

.o0o. 

Lena despised being in recovery more than anything. She had been rendered practically immobile because of her broken leg, and her weakened muscles took months of physical therapy to rest and recover. 

Every day she thought of her children, and missed them dearly. She knew when all of their birthdays were and was overcome with grief as each passed. 

She was supposed to be there, with them. Celebrating, laughing, protecting.

Instead?

Now she was in William’s hometown, mooching off of their generosity because of her title, feeling utterly and totally useless. 

After months and months of healing and resting and physical therapy she was finally back to semi-functionality. Sure, she could now go for strolls at night with William (it was part of her physical therapy- stupid leg injuries), but she knew she still couldn’t actually do anything- she still couldn’t go back to the castle and put an end to her mother’s reign. They’d be caught- called imposters and possibly be killed. 

Lena couldn’t imagine making her children go through them dying twice. 

“Lena..? What are you thinking about this night?” William asked softly, and Lena remembered where she was. 

“Just... everything,” she sighed. William kissed her hand. 

“We’ll figure it out, I promise,” He said. Lena closed her eyes and tried to believe it. 

“A year William... My mother must’ve done numerous unspeakable things to them by now...” She looked away at the plaza. He squeezed her hand. 

“I was thinking of the same thing...” he said. Lena put her head on his shoulder. 

“I miss Wakko’s jokes... I miss Yakko’s wit... I miss Dot’s smile,” Lena said, smiling a little at the memory. 

“We’ll figure it out soon, i promise,” he kissed her head and closed his eyes as they sat on a bench outside the hospital.

“Soon...” she echoed. 

Soon her ass. 

Soon was a ridiculous unit of time. No matter how much time had passed, everything seemed to be “soon”. The word drove her mad. 

She was going to say something about this, when suddenly a bright green shooting star suddenly soared through the sky, grabbing her attention as it went all the way down before suddenly crashing down behind the Acme Mountains. 

“William- did you see that?” Lena tugged on his arm. 

“See what?” He tilted his head. 

“That star- it crashed just behind Acme Moutains,” She shook him so he opened his eyes and he quickly saw it. 

“That’s- no... that couldn’t be..? Could it?” He squinted at it. 

“I think it is...” Lena said. 

“You think the Wishing Star could actually be real?” He asked. 

“My father taught me about it when I was a little girl, the books are still in the library. My mother never approved of fictional books- it has to be true,” Lena quickly stood up. 

“Careful Lena, you’re still-”

“Oh hush William. Don’t you know what this means?” She asked. “This is our chance- we reach the wishing star we can reunite with the kids- and take down my mother for good.” 

“And everything would be perfect again...” William couldn’t help but smile. He stood and kissed her. 

“C’mon- we haven’t a moment to waste,” Lena said. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Lena, it’s very late. We need to go to sleep,” He said. 

“But- William- it’s right there,” She frowned. 

“Yes, but we’ll have to get a horse or two to share and it’ll be a long and treacherous journey- those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get through,” William warned. Lena sighed. 

“But... it’s right there... Our kids...” She looked at it. 

“I know... but I promise Lena, it’ll still be there in the morning. Wishing Stars aren’t common knowledge, and we’ll have the distance advantage,” William said. “So please... let’s get some rest before we go out, alright?” 

Lena sighed. “I hate when you’re right.”

“You love me,” He teased. 

“I know,” She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “But.. tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

“To the Wishing Star...” She smiled. 

They were going to see their kids again after all. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[yuzukult]

—saccharine

pairing: seokjin x reader word count: 2,319 prompt: seokjin doesn’t believe in love at first sight. so... what’s this feeling that’s churning in the pit of his stomach when he meets you for the first time? warnings: none. minor cursing. fluff attack. a/n: to celebrate my follower milestone! thank you all for supporting and reading my fics, it means a lot to me!

Everyday is a continuous, recurring cycle. 

First, the alarm rings. Then, he slams the snooze button on his phone before resuming into a light sleep for another eight minutes. The annoying horn sings again, and a wash of regret hits from never changing it out of the default, so he finally accepts this by getting up and sliding his feet lazily into a pair of slippers by the side of his bed before making way into the bathroom.

His hair is a mess. But it’s a mess everyday. Life has gone to the point that even brushing his teeth has become a dreadful chore. Shuffling through his bin of hair products, he finds the mousse he consistently loses and finds on repeat and then slaps a boatload of it onto his head.

This is basically a day-in-the-life of Kim Seokjin. Except it’s everyday. It’s never ending. It feels like one of those time loop movies where when he ends his day, it starts back off exactly like it did yesterday. 

To be fair, he can’t complain. He’s got a roof over his head, an apartment all to himself (that means without a roommate), plus a well-paying full time job. It’s hard to whine and cry about how his life seems to have no excitement, other than the occasional meeting with his friends, but contrarily… there’s not much to look forward to.

It’s the same mundane activities. Opening the cabinet above his kitchen counter as he usually does at this time, he grabs his favorite Cheerios. Good starts with happy hearts, as their commercials say, but Seokjin isn’t entirely sure that’s true. 

He’s a “cereal first and milk last” kind of guy. Not that he judges those who do it backwards, but he thinks if anyone does the routine in the opposite order, they might actually be backwards. It’s a condition—he makes it seem, and it’s a rather controversial topic for the guy.

Nonetheless, he enjoys his bowl of breakfast goods. He reads the news on his phone, and when the reminder on his watch dings, Seokjin rushes to put his dishes into the sink and hauls himself down the hall, in direction to his walk-in-closet that evidently is just too big for it being only himself. It’s a constant indication that he’s alone. 

By the time it’s 8:30AM, he’s dressed in his suit and tie, hair slicked back, and has a satchel slung over his shoulder in preparation of yet another day at the office.

But maybe he’d stop by that new place this morning. Change of pace. Maybe it’ll liven up his day and give him something to look forward to. Maybe he’d like it.

The place is around the corner, less than a three minute walk the moment he leaves his apartment building, and if he timed himself, it probably takes longer to leave his home and out of the building. The shop is cute; decor stickers are laid out delicately along the windows, the walls are painted a pretty blush pink, and there’s smiles on all the workers’ faces as if they enjoyed being there.

There’s a smile on your face in particular that captures his attention.

Seokjin is a relatively kind guy, or so he thinks he is. He’s never pinned over girls like those shows he’s seen on TV, but he’s had his fair share of relationships. He’s not shy, but he’s also not outgoing. He has an abundance of friends but only a few are ones he trusts. 

And the girlfriends he had were great but… no one really appreciates his generosity as much as he’d like.

He thinks he’s crazy at this moment, quite frankly, because he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. It’s this theory and idea that writers of a romance genre film and story that people whipped up together to make it seem more appealing to their audiences. But he doesn’t actually think it’s true.

Or is it?

Hair up in a messy bun, there’s a swipe of flour that coats your one cheek, and a smile that dresses your face so beautifully. You’re in a simple outfit that’s a combination of a white tee and blue jeans with the shop’s apron on top, while running around to keep up with all the orders coming through. He has hearts brimming in his pupils and he can’t seem to stop the way his chest tightens the second he lays his eyes on you. Is this what love at first sight is?

Seokjin doesn’t only regret not changing the default ringtone of his alarm this morning. He also regrets not asking for your number.

When he reaches his office, he realizes he forgets to ask for cream and sugar at the bakery. The dark, warm liquid glides down his throat with some difficulty; the bitterness layering his tongue but the memory of you sparks sweetness from within. Who were you? He doesn’t even know you and you’re on his mind like crazy.

Now, Seokjin has seen How I Met Your Mother. He’s watched the nine seasons, totaling out to two-hundred and eight episodes, so needless to say, Seokjin knows what goes on in that show. And ironically, he hates Ted. The guy is a hopeless romantic that thinks every girl he has his eyes on is ‘the one.’ Seokjin refuses to become like Ted, and he would be caught dead replicating those same actions.

Then why the fuck is he caught up on a girl he’s seen once? 

The second time Seokjin comes by the bakery, it’s a hell of a lot less busy. In fact, it’s only three people that man the storefront, rather than the six that he saw the first time he stopped by. He has his fingers crossed behind his back as he waits in the queue patiently, hoping you’d be the one taking his order this time around.

Luck must be on his side because you’re greeting him with those pearly white teeth. “Good morning, nice to see you. What can I get for you today?”

Abort, abort! He can’t talk. He swears that his heart has found its way up into his throat, and he can’t get any words to come out.

You blink. Those gorgeous long lashes brush your cheeks so deftly, and it swells his heart that’s now lodged in the path of his airways. “Sir?”

Seokjin swallows. “Oh—yeah, sorry sorry. Uh, can I get a medium hot coffee? Cream and sugar, please. Forgot to mention that last time and I almost died from the bitterness.” Was that an appropriate comment to make? Did it make you laugh? Or were you offended that he just insulted your workplace’s coffee

He cheers in success on the inside when a soft chuckle escapes from your lips. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear. I guess we should have also done our part and asked if you wanted any. Did you want to order anything else?”

Ah. Was the conversation already ending? But it’s so soon! He barely held the dialogue for a couple seconds, and since he’s got your attention, he can’t let go now. Quickly, his eyes skim the menu and the display case full of baked goods. “Uh, what do you recommend?” He asks, gesturing to the sweets. 

You wave your hand for another coworker to take the next customer’s order. Walking over to the sweets, Seokjin trails over as well, observing your expression. You’ve got your brows furrowed, deep in thought with a quirk of the side of your lips, engrossed with the plentiful of options. “Do you like tarts?”

—

Seokjin is a regular now. 

Whenever the clock strikes 7:30AM, he’s already in his work attire, hair at its best, and has checked his face in the mirror for the fiftieth time. Then, he’s on route to the corner bakery.

He wants to look good before he meets you. Handsome guy for a pretty girl. It’s only right.

The bells at the front door of the shop ring loudly the moment he enters in, and immediately his ears are filled with that beautiful laugh of yours, but you’re not alone. It’s accompanied by someone else’s, a voice that doesn’t match any of your other coworkers and his jaw clenches at the thought. Who is this male that claims to be the purpose of your giggling with a mop he calls hair on the top of his head?

“Oh!” You beam, lifting up the cup of hot coffee in hand. “Seokjin! Come here, I have a new pastry for you to try, and your daily caffeinated beverage to pair it with. Plus, I want you to meet my friend.”

His name is Taehyung. The freaking guy looks like a model, strutting into the café like it’s his runway, and when his gaze meets Seokjin’s, it makes Seokjin feel small.

Seokjin likes you, if the amount of times he comes in a week is evidence for it. He doesn’t just do that either; he often stirs up a conversation, asks how your day is going so far, and even goes out of his way to remember small details so he can bring it up next time. But he can’t help but wonder—do you have a boyfriend? Are you being kind only because Seokjin is a customer? Or are you normally this sweet as those raspberry filled pastries you set him up with? 

And those questions are only emphasized when Taehyung smiles, extends his hands and offers Seokjin a firm shake. “I’m Taehyung.”

Seokjin’s entire work day has gone to shit. All he could think about was who Taehyung was and why you were so adamant about Seokjin meeting him. 

After taking the last bite of the delicious pastry you packed for him (free of charge, too), it hits him. 

If Seokjin liked you, he should just confess his feelings, no matter what the consequences. Instead of sitting here with his shoulders slouched, eating this treat you gave him with a pout upon his lips, he shouldn’t continue waiting around and feeling sorry for himself anymore. Why would he make himself suffer like this when there’s a way to end this vicious cycle? 

Seokjin concludes that he’s going to confess tonight. 

—

What Seokjin learns about you is that you are by far not close to his ideal dream girl. 

You’re the “milk first, cereal last” gal, and he believes you’re ass backwards. You like consistency, and your favorite ringtone is the sound of those stupid horns he has for alarms in the morning. You enjoy the first few hours of your day, basking in the routine that you’ve put together yourself, including the one that had recently involved seeing Seokjin’s face. 

And although you’re not his dream girl, you’ve become it.

“I like you,” He finally confesses, a bouquet of flowers in his hands that match the decor stickers plastered on the shop's windows. “Would you… go out with me?”

Seokjin isn’t here in the mornings like he normally is, opting that since this is definitely a change of pace, he might as well go all out. Maybe this will be different. Maybe he’ll be happier.

Stunned, your mouth drops open. You’re stuttering over your own words, practically malfunctioning like a machine. “Wha—Like—what? Like… you like me as in like… a woman? More than a friend? You want to take me out?”

“Uh,” Seokjin scratches behind his ear anxiously. Was his plan backfiring? “Yes? I… like you. As in, I come here in the mornings for coffee, yeah, but I mostly came to see you. I enjoy hearing your laugh, seeing your smiles, and listening to you talk about these pastries like they’re your world and I—“ He pauses, inhaling a sharp breath, “—then you introduced me to this really good looking guy named Taehyung and I didn’t know what my chances were with you anymore, so here I am. Confessing.”

You’re silent. Truthfully, Seokjin’s not feeling good about this. His palms are sweaty, his heart is racing, and you still haven’t said a word and he’s sure that over thirty seconds have already passed by.

“What—“ You start again, quickly stopping yourself with a shake of your head. “Thank god, really.”

The front of Seokjin’s brows dip in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

You laugh, combing your fingers through your loosened locks. “I’ve been trying to tell my coworkers that I had this stupid crush on you since you first came in. You’re such a great listener, you’re handsome, and fun to talk to. They think you’re too good to be true, so they thought you wanted to be my gay best friend. Hence… the Taehyung test.”

“The Taehyung test?” Seokjin reiterates. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your eyes are swirls of apologies. “He���s cute, right? Either you’d get jealous that a guy like him has my attention and you like me, or you like him and you’re jealous that he’s making me laugh instead of you.”

Seokjin’s shoulders drop in relief. “So… does that mean you’ll go out with me?”

You smile softly. “Of course, Jin.”

He doesn’t think those mundane activities he identified before are boring anymore. No, not with you, they’re not. He doesn’t mind watching you pour milk instead of cereal first in the mornings because he’s glad he gets to be the one who pinches your side teasingly and call you a weirdo. He doesn’t hate the sound of the horns—okay, a lie, he hates it so much, but they’re bearable when you’re around since you don’t hesitate to shut it off the minute it rings, and immediately hop out the bed, without using the snooze button. Brushing his teeth is a delight, especially when he sees your toothbrush sitting in your own designated cup on your side of the sink.

Everyday is a continuous, recurring cycle. 

But Seokjin doesn’t mind those things if it’s done with you. 

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 2/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: dragon abuse Word Count: 2,266

“Are you ready?” Matthew was standing with me by the gates of the reserve, his arms crossed on his chest and looking like he will burst from excitement any moment now.

It’s been a week since I found out that I am going to work with a 1-year-old Hebridean Black. That, however, has been the only information Matt has given me. He has been awfully secretive about this dragon and no matter how many times I asked him about it he just told me not to worry and that I will have all my questions answered once the dragon arrives.

Today was that day and I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Not only because I didn’t know what to expect and the whole thing seemed to amuse my boss very much but also because this was a Hebridean Black – my favorite breed of dragon.

We don’t have a rule book here in the Sanctuary but we do have a few protocols we have to obey.

Wear your protective gear at work.

If you get injured, stop what you are doing immediately and find a healer.

No matter how vicious the dragon is, try to stay as calm as possible because they sense fear.

We don’t get promoted but are assigned to dragons based on our experience.

In the first year when we arrive here, we work with researchers to observe dragons – learn about their behavior and eating patterns.

In the second and third years, we either get assigned to Common Welsh Greens or Antipodean Opaleyes. If we are doing great with the latter, our superior might assign us to one of the fliers so we can start training to fly on a dragon.

That is a crucial practice for working with dragons later on because part of the daily routine is to take them out for a flight. The training usually lasts for 6 months and then we have to pass the flying exam – which I passed with flying colors on the first try, of course!

Then in year four we usually continue with Opaleyes. I was lucky enough to get a chance to work with two Chinese Fireballs.

In years five and six we are assigned to a new breed, the Swedish Short-Snout, and we train with the healers to learn how to heal and recognize symptoms if the dragon we work with shows any signs of sickness.

For me, that dragon was a Norwegian Ridgeback. I wasn’t experienced enough to work with the breed but due to a shortage of dragonologists, Matthew assigned the dragon to me anyway, and even though it wasn’t the easiest dragon to work with I had a pleasant enough experience with it that I now visit its habitat a few times per month to say hello.

In year eight or nine we can sign up for an exchange program. It means we go and work in one of the other dragon reserves. My wish was to work in the Swedish Reserve for one year and I was over the roof when my application was approved.

My boss wanted me to apply to the Chinese Reserve so that I could work with Fireballs since I have already dealt with them but I heard that even though the Swedish Reserve mostly works with Short-Snouts they had a Peruvian Vipertooth and a Ukrainian Ironbelly.

I know I shouldn’t have gone against my boss and try and work with dragons I wasn’t ready for but I just couldn’t help myself. I knew I would be less monitored there and nobody would tell me I can’t work with a certain dragon so I had to try.

Working with a sick Norwegian Ridgeback was harder than trying to befriend a Ukrainian Ironbelly. The latter looks like it’s going to eat you at any given moment but they are harmless even though they are huge compared to the other dragons.

Because I got a certificate of successfully taming both a Vipertooth and an Ironbelly, Matthew was so impressed that once I got back I was assigned to work with 3 different dragons.

I couldn’t believe that he allowed me to work with a Peruvian Vipertooth and not one but two Romanian Longhorns. I nagged him to assign me to one of those dragons for a year before my year in Sweden and he always said I wasn’t ready. But when I came back with the letter from my Swedish trainer, Matthew couldn’t believe how well I did and decided to give me a chance to work with dragons completely on my own.

I have been working with Hel, Lasair, and Rocker for over a year and I am doing great. All three of them listen to me and I have no trouble going through their daily routines. They trust me and I have learned so much from them in such a short amount of time. And apparently, it shows since my boss assigned me to the Hebridean Black.

“I would love to say that I am ready but the look on your face concerns me.” I lifted an eyebrow at him, my palms getting sweatier.

“Look, for how many years have you been begging me to let you work with a Black? Now you’re trying to chicken out?” He smirked.

“No, of course, not. I am just curious why the sudden change of hearts. Isn’t it too dangerous? Aren’t I unqualified to take care of a Hebridean Black?”

“Asterin.”

“What?” I turned my head to him, with more questions in my head than before.

“The dragon’s name is Asterin.” He explained and nodded toward the gate where 7 wizards appeared along with a big cage with a dragon chained inside.

We hurried to them and helped them unload the dragon. I had so many questions. We have never received a dragon that was chained or that needed so many people escorting it. What was Matthew not telling me?

They told us not to take the beast out of the cage until we reach its assigned habitat. Matt called 4 of my co-workers to help levitate the cage to a secluded area that was going to be Asterin’s home for the next 3 months.

Every time we get a new dragon to live in our reserve, we put it far away from the rest of the dragons so that it can get used to the environment change first before it’s introduced to other dragons. Then we determine if the dragon is capable of living with another of its breed – we never put more than 3 together – or if they’d prefer to have their own habitat. After those 3 months, the proper training can begin.

“I need some answers.” I frowned at my boss when we were left alone with the new dragon.

“Okay, so the dragon was put through a lot. She has trust issues and is very untamed for her age. She doesn’t want to fly and barely eats anything.” He explained.

“That’s why she’s so small for her age?” I leaned to the right to get a glimpse of Asterin behind Matthew.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“But I don’t understand. The dragonologists that brought her here are from the MacFusty clan. They take care of Hebridean Blacks, why was she brought here and where did they get her from?”

“They found her.”

“What do you mean they found her? You don’t simply stumble upon a dragon!” I furrowed my brows.

“But they did – abandoned in the forest close to their reserve. They heard her cries. She had both her wings broken and half of her teeth were missing.” Matthew continued.

“That would explain the not eating and flying part.” I could feel the heat on my face. If she was found like that someone had to hurt her and then just left her. How could someone do something like that to such a beautiful creature? Why would they hurt a dragon?

“They tried taking care of her,” Matt explained further, “but after not making any progress for more than half a year they contacted me.” He locked eyes with mine and it seemed he was trying to read my face.

“What’s with the look?”

“You know that you need 15+ years of experience to work with a Hebridean Black here.”

“I do. That’s why I asked you about 50 times in the last week why did you pick me?” My heart was racing, knowing I will finally get the answer to my question.

“I didn’t.” Matt cleared his throat.

“What?” “I didn’t pick you. They did.”

“Who? The MacFusty family?” I don’t think I was ever this confused – this didn’t make any sense. I knew about the clan. They were famous for taking in Hebridean Blacks and taking care of them before releasing them into the wild but there was no way they could know about me.

“They knew that the dragon needed better care and even though their property is expanding they reckoned it would be better if the dragon is moved to a bigger reserve,” Matthew said. “They contacted the Swedish Dragon Sanctuary and they recommended the dragon to be transported here, into your care.”

“The Swedish Sanctuary?” I said more to myself than to him.

“I guess they were impressed with how a 27-year-old tamed a Ukranian Ironbelly as if it was no big deal. And your trainer, Oskar, found it amusing when you called them extra large Cruppies.” Matthew playfully shook his head.

“Well, they are. Their size is just deceiving.” I defended my statement.

“Charles, you must’ve done something to impress them so much that they thought of you when they found out about Asterin’s situation.” Matthew put his hand on my shoulder and winked at me.

“And you just agreed?” I narrowed my eyes at him. I still couldn’t believe it. They singlehandedly picked me? They thought of me to help the dragon?

I took a deep breath. I was prepared for anything when Matt was keeping all of this a secret from me but I didn’t think that this involved me on such a large scale. This was a great honor, an honor about which I didn’t know how to feel. I am good with dragons but I am not that good, am I?

It rarely happens that a dragonologist is recommended to be assigned to a dragon, especially if they are 28 years old. I’m still learning. I am still observing and studying the dragons and now the MacFusty family knows my name?

I rubbed my eyes thinking I was dreaming. This opportunity won’t only escalate my career and make my day-to-day more fun, it will also make my dream to work with a Hebridean Black come true.

“I don’t know what to say.” Was all I could muster.

“Just enjoy it, Charles. I know how much you like a challenge.” He tapped me twice on the shoulder and walked away.

I swallowed thickly and looked at the dragon who was standing still and being aware of every speck that moved.

“Hi.” I waved slowly. “My name is Charlie and I’ll be your buddy for the foreseeable future.”

The dragon’s tail started to move from left to right and I was pretty sure that if I took a step forward I would get scorched.

“It’s okay. I mean you no harm.” I bowed my head, maintaining eye contact, and then sat on the ground. “See, if you want you can eat me right now.”

I looked at Asterin’s claws which were dug deep into the earth beneath her paws. It meant that she was tense and stressed and didn’t believe a word I said to her.

“I can leave if you want. Just let me come back so I can give you some dinner.” I started to stand up but a roar straight to my face made me sit back down.

“Okay, okay. You do not agree with me leaving. I understand.” I lifted my hands in defense.

I felt like my heart was going to escape my ribcage any moment now. I wasn’t scared. I was thrilled. I could see that this was going to be a tough challenge and I couldn’t wait to see how everything will unfold.

I sat still and had a staring contest with Asterin for the next 3 hours. My bum and back were killing me but I didn’t care. The dragon didn’t move a muscle and her claws were still dug deep into the ground.

“Asterin, it’s time for dinner. How about you let me stand up?” I motioned with my head to the sky – it being dark, that’s how long we sat together in silence.

The dragon didn’t move nor blinked so I inhaled sharply and without exhaling stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact. Asterin let out a silent growl but didn’t roar, which was a good sign. I backed away and once I was out of her sight I hurried to get her food. Hebridean Blacks love venison so that was what I was going to get her.

As I was heading out of the food supply hut, I grabbed a bag of apples just in case Asterin is a vegetarian like Crystal.

The whole way back to the dragon I was debating whether or not I should stay and observe her eating or should I just leave her alone. I wanted to see if she will even want to eat and if it’s painful when she chews the meat.

My decision, however, didn’t matter when I came back with the dinner and Asterin was nowhere to be found.