#so the second one should be tomorrow or monday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months ago

Note

Can you write modern Jace being a blind king? Those glasses looks THICK. Maybe reader come to his dorm and see him with his glasses?

Request: Roommates college au where there’s a mixup with the dorms and they end up in the same dorm. Imagine rooming with Jace? He’d be so cute and maybe a little nerdy idk. She moves out but they become friends…and then more than friends

The second request has been sitting in my ask for a long time (sorry). I watched Insidious: The Red Door the other day and it gave me inspiration for it (I had planned to add smut in this one but it didn't end up fitting and my laptop didn't save a few of the scenes I had written so I had to rewrite them...not as good or cute as the first time)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When you arrived at your assigned dorm, there were already people there. One was a boy with curly hair, and the other a woman with white-blond hair. Their backs were all turned, so they didn’t see you come in with your suitcase.

‘’No, Mom, you don't have to do that. I can do it myself,’’ he said, trying to stop her from unpacking a box. ‘’Classes don’t start until Monday.’’

‘’But I want to help you settle in,’’ she insisted, taking a lamp out of the box and setting it on the nightstand. ‘’My first boy is leaving for college. This is difficult for me, Jace. Let me at least help you with your bed. No one makes a bed better than a mother.’’

Jace sighed in defeat and moved out of her way so she could make his bed. ‘’Okay. Thanks, Mom.’’

She grabbed sheets from another box and began making the bed. ‘’Where are your brothers and father? Taking the last boxes out of the car shouldn’t take so long. I hope they didn’t get lost on campus.’’

You watched them with jealousy, wishing your parents had dropped you off at college too. It was a rite of passage for freshman students. But you understood that your parents had jobs they could not take days off from.

You stood there for a moment before clearing your throat to announce your presence. ‘’This is room 309?’’

Jace’s mom looked up first, giving you a kind smile. ‘’Oh, hello there. Yes, this is 309. Are you looking for someone?’’

‘’No. Eh, this is my dorm,’’ you said with a frown, holding your paper in your hand. ‘’It says 309.’’

Jace turned around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘’That’s impossible, there must be a mistake. This is a boys hall, and boys and girls aren’t supposed to room together. It’s nothing against you, I personally don’t see a problem rooming with a girl. It’s just…not permitted.’’

‘’I know. But it says here that this is my dorm.’’

‘’Let me see that paper, sweetheart.’’ The blond woman looked at your paper, her eyes reading the information slowly. ‘’Oh, no. You’re right. There must be a mistake on the college’s part.’’

‘’You should go to the housing office,’’ Jace suggested with the same kind smile as his mother. ‘’They’ll switch you to another hall.’’

You nodded. ‘’I’m gonna go and see if they can solve this issue. Can I leave my suitcase here?’’

‘’Of course.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The line outside the housing office was crazy due to the hoard of students coming back, so you didn't get back to your dorm until well later in the evening. There were no voices coming from inside your dorm, meaning Jace's family must have left.

You knocked before coming in, not wanting to walk in on something you should not be seeing. But Jace did not hear you, laying on his bed with a book and headphones on. You didn’t take him for a reader, nor a glasses wearer.

‘’What did they say at housing?’’ he asked, taking down his headphones and shutting his book.

You walked over to the empty bed and fell down on it, exhausted. ‘’They basically said sorry for the inconvenience and that I gotta sleep here tonight. But I’ll get a new room tomorrow, so it’s not a permanent thing.’’

Jace hummed. ‘’Do you need help settling for the night?’’

You shook your head, standing. ‘’No. I’m just gonna get my pillow and blanket, and change into pajamas. There’s no point unpacking when I move again tomorrow.’’

Your suitcase was heavy, so you lowered it on the floor and grabbed your pillow and blanket, then rummaged through your suitcase for your pajamas. As you held up your shorts and a tee shirt, you remembered that this was a boys' hall, meaning the bathrooms would be full of boys.

Jace seemed to read your mind. ‘’Eh, I can turn around so you can change,’’ he offered. ‘’I promise I’m not gonna look. I can even take off my glasses if you want, I’m blind as a mile without them.’’

You chuckled at his offer. What a gentleman, you noted. Making sure you feel comfortable during this inconvenience. ‘’That's okay. Just turning around is fine."

He nodded and turned his back to you, facing the wall. ‘’You’re in art school?’’ he asked, making conversation as you changed so it would be less awkward. ‘’I've seen your sketchbook and art supplies beside your suitcase. Not that I snooped through your things. I promise I didn’t.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you replied, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. It felt daunting to be topless in the same room as an almost-stranger, but you tried to not think too much about it. ‘’And you’re in...?'

''Political science,’’ he finished. ‘’My grandfather went to this university, so I’m following his footsteps. I’m also taking a side class in History for personal pleasure.’’

Political science was not what you expected him to say, but it made sense. With his glasses, he had the politician look — minus the sweats and tee shirt.

What kind of weirdo takes a history class for fun?

‘’I know what you’re thinking — history is boring. But I love learning about the past civilisations and how ancient monuments were built, it’s so fascinating. Like the Moai Statues, the Giza pyramids or the Colosseum of Rome.’’

‘’Have you ever visited one of them?’’ You slipped into your pajamas, and threw your dirty clothes on top of your suitcase.

His lips curled into an excited grin. ‘’I have! Last year, my family and I went to Italy and my dad took me and my brother Luke to see the Colosseum. It was magnificent. I took pictures. Do you want to see?’’

‘’Sure.’’

You sat back on your bed and Jace turned back around, reaching to grab his ipad to show you the pictures he took. His passion for history could be heard as he talked about the Colosseum, telling you facts you had never heard of. Eventually, the pictures came to an end, and Jace accidentally swiped too far, showing you a picture of his brothers and him making faces in Italy.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You didn’t think so many people would be up early on a Saturday. The queue at the campus café was insane. All for a coffee and a bagel.

As you walked across the quad, trying to get to the bookstore to get everything you needed for Monday, flyers were being shoved into your face, advertising for clubs, frat parties and sorority houses who were scouting for new members. You were not interested in any, but they were not taking no for answer.

A neon party? What year were they stuck into?

You threw all the invitations in the trash.

On your way back from the bookstore, you received an email from the housing office with your new dorm information. You could move in immediately, but needed to stop by for your new key.

So that's what you did.

You couldn’t wait to get to your new dorm and finally shower.

‘’You’re already going?’’ Jace asked, coming in with a paper bag containing lunch from the café you went to this morning.

You nodded, finishing zipping up your suitcase. ‘’I’m not going too far, though. I’m just a floor up, right above you, so if you jerk off or have a girl over, remember that I can hear all.’’

Jace’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, getting flustered.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Although you had moved out, you found yourself standing outside your old dorm a few days later.

‘’Howdy roomie,’’ you said when Jace opened. ‘’Let’s go out, I’m hungry.’’

Before he could say anything, you stepped in as if it was still your dorm and sat on the empty bed that used to be yours. They must not have found him a new roommate. On the desk, you noticed Jace’s laptop was opened along with his textbook.

The brunet frowned, clearly confused by your presence. ‘’Eh, what are you doing here?’’

‘’Taking my roommate out for pizza?’’ you replied. You had not eaten since that granola bar at lunch and your stomach was screaming.

‘’We’re not roommates anymore.’’

You rolled your eyes. It was a minor detail. ‘’I know, but you’re the person I’ve spent the most time with since getting here and I don’t feel like going out to eat alone. Please, Jace,’’ you said, pouting to put all chances on your side.

He was taken back. This wasn’t a common occurrence for him. A girl knocking on his door and asking him out — platonically or not.

His frown disappeared, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘’Fine,’’ he sighed. ‘’I’ll put on my shoes.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Getting pizza after class on Wednesday became a weekly rendez-vous. You sat at the same table, ordered the same toppings — pepperoni with extra cheese and red bell peppers —, and talked about anything but school. You made it an official rule on your fourth date when Jace spent the whole time biting his fingers and worrying about a paper that was due at the end of the week.

Pizza dates were your special time to unwind and stop thinking of schoolwork.

As you both settled into your usual spot, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. Early autumn rain was the worst. The weather was too warm to carry around a jacket, but when you didn’t have one, rain would randomly start pouring.

You took a second slice of pizza and glanced at Jace. ‘’I’m gonna need your help for a project for my art class.’’

His eyes widened slightly, and he quickly swallowed his bite of pizza. ‘’Nope!’’

You frowned at his immediate refusal. ‘’You don’t want to help me?’’

‘’No! That’s not that,’’ he assured. ‘’Didn’t we make a rule that we would not be speaking of school while eating pizza? You’re breaking your own rule,’’ he pointed out.

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in the booth. ‘’I know… But Mrs. Rosenberg told us this afternoon that we needed a model for our proportion piece and I didn’t want to forget about it. All you have to do is sit and look pretty while I draw you.’’

Jace raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh, so you think I’m pretty?’’ he teased, stuffing a huge bite of pizza in his mouth before you could swat his arm.

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your own slice. ‘’So, will you be my model?’’

He thought about it, a slight pout on his lips. ‘’What’s in it for me?’’

‘’Extra time with your favorite roommate?’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Is this okay? I have a red polo somewhere. Maybe it would look better?’’ Jace asked as you laid out your art material on the second, unused, desk.

You shook your head, and started propping up your small easel. ‘’You’re perfect like this.’’

He nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing a bit as he settled into position by the desk lamp you had priorly angled. The silence between you was comfortable as you began tracing Jace's features on your canvas, and you took a moment to really look at him — his curly hair, the faint freckles across his aquiline nose, the highlight of his pouty lips, and the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his tee shirt.

He was nervous. You immediately picked on it when you came in with your canvas and art supplies. His demeanor was different than usual.

‘’Can you move your head slightly to the left?’’

Jace complied, the dull yellow light of the lamp hitting exactly where you wanted it. Now, you could see all the angles and edges of his face.

‘’Yes! That’s perfect!’’

You continued tracing the contrasts and outlines of your model's face, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Jace found it cute, but he kept it to himself.

The afternoon passed. You painted and mixed colors on your palette, lost in your creative bubble while Jace was trying his best to keep his posture...which was starting to ache. Sitting completely straight for hours was more difficult than he thought.

As you were working on his complexion, you stole glances at your ex-roommate, trying to get every detail on your canvas, and noticed him shifting slightly, uncomfortable.

‘’You know,’’ you began, breaking the silence. ‘’You don’t have to stay completely still like a statue. Feel free to move a little or adjust. I'll tell you if it doesn't work for me.’’

Jace gave a small laugh, the sound light and nervous. ‘’I’m not really used to this… Playing the model.’’

‘’I think you're doing good. Just...a bit stiff.’’

You continued painting him until the sun began to set, then called for a much deserved snack break. Jace pulled out a pack of Oreos from the snack box in his closet and your eyes turned into hearts. They were your favorite.

‘’You really know the way to a girl’s heart,’’ you said as you took a third cookie from the pack.

Jace smiled at you, pleased to see you enjoying them. He took a fifth one and chewed slowly as crumbs fell on his shirt. Oreos were messy. ‘’My mom sent them to me in a care package last week. I need my sugar to stay focused when I stay up late doing schoolwork.’’

Your heart melted at the sweet attention from Jace’s mother.

‘’How is the painting going?’’

‘’It’s coming together nicely. But it won’t be finished tonight. Painting takes a while. Especially portraits,’’ you replied. ‘’I need to get every little detail right. From that one curl that’s almost poking you in the eye to the dust of freckles on your nose.’’

The brunet’s cheeks flushed a bit at your words. He was not sure what to do with the feeling bubbling up in his stomach. Was this a compliment? Gods, he sucked with girls.

You stayed in Jace’s dorm until one of you began yawning and it was time to call it a night. He helped you put your painting supplies away and even offered to clean your brushes in the boys’ bathrooms. This guy was a true sweetheart.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The following afternoon, you approached Jace's dorm, your painting supplies tucked under your arm. A lot of students used their Sunday to do their laundry, so you hoped he was there. You should have texted him before coming.

You were about to knock, fist raised, when you paused at the door, hearing the faint sound of a facetime conversation coming from inside.

‘’She’s not my girlfriend. Shut up, Luke,’’ Jace's voice came through, tinged with frustration.

You could imagine his cheeks heating up.

‘’You go on dates all the time…and you said she was cute, and talented, and funny,'' Luke's voice, younger and teasing, said, recalling everything.

You should feel ashamed for eavesdropping on a conversation about you, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, butterflies filling your stomach. Jace had talked to his brother about you? If Luke assumed you were his girlfriend, he must have talked about you more than once.

‘’We’re just friends. I don’t have time for a girlfriend anyway. I have a lot of schoolwork,’’ Jace interrupted, his tone firm but slightly defensive.

‘’Nerd,’’ Luke snickered.

You didn’t meet him on moving day, but you assumed he was the kind of brother who loved to tease his siblings. From what Jace had told you, he was quite the little troublemaker.

A few doors down, a guy walked out of his dorm with a bag of dirty clothes and sweatpants low on his hips, and stared you down as you stood in the corridor. He was walking your way, so you took this as your cue to knock on Jace’s door. The sound echoed throughout the quiet corridor, louder than you intended.

‘’Ohh is that your girlfriend?’’

‘’No, it's...pizza delivery. Tell Mom I’ll call her tonight,’’ he added in a softer tone.

You heard movement inside and soon Jace opened the door, greeting you with his usual bright smile. He had glasses and gray sweats on, meaning he had likely not left his dorm at all today.

‘’Hey, you’re here! I was starting to think you made other plans…’’ Jace said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

‘’Never,’’ you replied, walking past him and setting your things down like yesterday. ‘’Besides, I need to bring in my final piece Wednesday morning and I still have a lot left to paint. It would have been a poor choice to not come.’’

Behind you, Jace nodded. ‘’Eh, should I change into the shirt I had yesterday? Because I slept in and didn’t do laundry.’’

You shook your head. ‘’The color of your shirt does not matter. I’m still painting your pretty face.’’

Jace smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; it was a nervous habit he had, you had discovered. ‘’I’ll go sit at my spot, then.’’

‘’Have you taken a peak while I was not there?’’ you asked as you placed the canvas and easel in front of your chair.

You glanced over at him, half-expecting a guilty grin, but he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ‘’No. I want to be surprised.’’

You finished setting your stuff up quietly.

The sky was gray today, clouds hanging heavy as if threatening rain, so you were thankful for the artificial light you chose to use yesterday. Natural light is great, but frustrating as it changes with time and weather.

When you began mixing colors and painting, you felt Jace’s shy gaze on you. His eyes would dart away when you almost caught him, pretending to be interested in something else, only to glance back at you a moment later. It was a silent game, one that made you smile every time you almost caught him.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

About an hour into your painting, rain started to fall heavily and the sky began to shake with thunder. It echoed loudly around the room, causing the lights to flash.

You were used to rain and thunderstorms, so you didn't think this one was strong enough to cause a power outage, but after an especially loud crack of thunder, the whole dorm went dark.

‘’I guess that’s our cue to stop for today,’’ you said with a small laugh, barely able to see your canvas in front of you. You sighed, slightly frustrated by the interruption, and put your brush down on the easel.

Jace moved to his window, seeing the pouring rain and an impressive lightning flashing in the distance. ''Looks like it's not going to let up anytime soon.'' He glanced at your face, but was blinded by the brightness of your phone’s light.

You quickly apologized, laughing. ‘’I didn't mean to do that,’’ you promised.

He glared at you and went back to his bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘’It’s worse with my glasses. I can’t see.’’

You laughed harder, directing the light to the ceiling so no one would be blinded by it. ‘’Do you think the university has a generator?’’

‘’For the academic buildings, not the residences. It would take a massive one to provide power to the whole campus,’’ Jace explained, finally starting to get his vision back. ‘’We’re stuck in the dark until it gets back.’’

You sighed and abandoned your side to move and sit on Jace’s bed. You could have gone back to your dorm, but you would be sitting alone in the dark. He turned his head to look at you, noticing you sitting on the edge of his bed, and moved back to make more room for you. You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’.

Thankfully, it was only mid-November, so it was not that cold. But it will get cold eventually if the power goes out for too long…

After a few hours, the power was not back. And the room had gotten a little cold, so Jace offered you one of his hoodies. It was gray and felt like a blanket on you. And it smelled like him — woodsy and comforting.

Through this long darkness and silence, you found yourself thinking about the conversation you heard when you came to his dorm. You figured it was heavily influenced by the hoodie enveloping you.

‘’Jace?’’

He hummed, sitting in his corner against his pillows.

The words vomited out before you could stop them. ‘’Why did you tell your brother that you didn’t have time for a girlfriend when you spend all your free time with me?’’

The brunet was taken aback by your question. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, his cheeks flaming. ‘’How do you know—’’

‘’I heard you on the phone earlier. I didn't mean to listen, I just…did.’’

Jace cleared his throat and spoke quietly, his voice strained and embarrassed. ‘’You weren’t supposed to hear that...’’ He looked away from you, avoiding your gaze. ''What else have you heard?''

A lump of guilt knotted inside your stomach for putting him on the spot like this. ''Not much. A guy walked out of his dorm and was staring me down, so I knocked on your door to get away,'' you explained in truth.

There was a moment of silence as Jace picked at his fingers. He was still embarrassed, but he needed to push it to the side and make something useful out of it. ‘’I told Luke I didn’t have time for a girlfriend because I don’t know how to have a girlfriend. I mean, I do know the principle. I just…don’t know how to talk to girls.’’

You smiled, finding his honesty adorable. ‘’You’re talking to me now,’’ you said with a hint of amusement hiding behind your words.

‘’And it’s exactly the problem. We’re just talking,’’ he muttered more to himself than to you.

‘’Would you like us to do more than talking?’’ you asked flirtatiously, extending an invisible hand for Jace to grasp.

Slowly, his gaze shifted back to you. ‘’It depends what you mean by more than talking…’’

There was another loud crack of thunder, echoing and shaking the walls. The loud noise made Jace jump slightly, nervous from the proximity between you. He tried to brush it off, but you grinned and inched closer to cup his face.

''Tell me if you want me to stop.''

His eyes found yours and he gripped the blanket, needing something to grab to take his nerves off. ''I don't want you to stop.''

You leaned closer, your hand still on his cheek, and pressed your lips onto his. The touch of your lips sent a jolt of electricity up Jace's spine. He gasped, having never felt so much from a simple kiss, and kissed you back without hesitation, his lips plush but chapped against yours.

More lightning pierced the horizon outside the window, but you were too lost in each other's lips to notice. Jace's hand that was not grabbing the blanket came to rest on your hip to pull you a little closer. He was gentle and inexperienced, you could feel it in the way he was touching you.

You pulled away to catch your breath, but a needy whine left his lips, grabbing your hip with more force and pulling you back in. He was not done kissing you.

When night came and the power finally returned, you didn’t go to your dorm. You borrowed one of Jace’s tee shirts and slid under the covers with him. You both had classes at 8am, so you simply laid together, Jace’s head on your chest while you gently rubbed his back and slowly fell asleep.

—

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marlenesluv · 4 months ago

Text

۵pairing: fem!albonsibling!ballerina x platonic f1 grid. also, reader x lando norris.

۵type: social media au

۵authors note: sorry it’s been so long! if you want a tag for new updates for this series, leave a comment letting me know! i’ll tag you in upcoming posts :)

۵warnings: dark side of ballet (this includes: ed/not eating as much, self criticism, teacher, etc) please be aware of this while reading. i love you. also cussing.

۵summary: a month after the dinner, y/n is still working to perfect her performance for her role as the black/white swan. luckily, she had her “friend(?)” lando to help her and keep her company.

۵this is part 4! please read part 1, part 2, and part 3 before this one for it to make sense. (part 1 is mine, i just made it on my main blog)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: lilymhe, landonorris, and 854,282 others

tagged: lilymhe, landonorris, and alex_albon

y/n.albon: reminiscing bc i start training for ballet tomorrow, missing friends and shit👾💜

view comments…

lilymhe: noooo i miss you, cant wait to crash ur apartment every few days 💘

↳ y/n.albon: my door is always open for u

↳ landonorris: and me???��

↳ y/n.albon: 🔑

↳ landonorris: 🙂↕️

↳ alex_albon: wait. LANDO HAS A KEY!?????

↳ alex_albon: why do i even comment. you NEVER ANSWER ME😭🤧

user2: alex is just so offended atp😭

f1wags: new wag manifestinggggg🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

fp4albons: my favssss

ln4updates: lando has a key to her apartment?🥲we know they’re dating like js announce it😁

user7: alr, my favorite people ever (real)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You loved ballet more than anything, but the hours were ungodly. Waking up on a Monday morning at 5am to be at the studio by 7:30am was unforgivable.

But then, when you’re there till 11pm…it’s exhausting.

After those fifteen hours of practice, you needed about a week of sleep and four advil. Not to mention you were starving.

Your instructor said “lay off those bagels.” To which you nodded and then rolled your eyes once you were out of sight.

Your instructor was the best of the best, and you knew she meant well. She wanted the best for you, for you to be the best.

Sometimes, this was draining. In her eyes, the best was as thin as paper. Ballet was like this, and it was hard. But you had dealt with it for so long, that you started tuning them out years ago.

Fuck them. Its a sport. So, on your walk home, you grabbed a slice of pizza and a diet coke. You deserved it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and 879,238 others

y/n.albon: 🌚⭐️🌝

view comments…

landonorris: never letting you drive my car again

↳ y/n.albon: okay (i hate driving so this is perfect)

↳ landonorris: (thank god because i hate being the passenger)

user3: name a more iconic couple? *crickets* yeah i thought so

f1editpg4: lando on the first slide is a mooddddd

workinglateee3: uhhhhh the second pic🤧🤧🙃

francisca.cgomes: if you’re not rooting for portugal…

↳ y/n.albon: uhhhhh, they’re my second fav team😁

↳ francisca.cgomes: fairrr🫶

user6: me waiting for them to date 🙂

user9: mom and dad fr

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your texts with alex:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After deciding that leaving Alex on read would be best for now, you walked into your favorite little italian restaurant that you ordered some pasta from after practice got over.

Should you be eating breadsticks, gnocchi, and a tiramisu for dinner? Eh, probably not, but you were tired and in need of some comfort food.

The whole situation with Lando felt like nothing and everything all at once. You knew he was single, and he knew you were as well. He also knew how upset you were about Ben quitting, but he didn’t pity you which was nice.

Family that had found out had been texting and calling you for weeks. Telling you how sorry they are, but you didn’t care that much. Truth be told, it was just inconvenient and inconsiderate.

If Lando knew one thing, it would how he knew how you functioned. At this point in knowing each other, Lando knew your schedule more than anyone else. He paid more attention. He never missed a planned hangout, a rehearsal, or dinner.

Stopping yourself, you walked up to the counter and grabbed your food, saying bye to the workers and started walking back home. What you didn't know was that Lando had happened to drive by and saw you walking.

Lando debated picking you up. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was stalking you. It really was pure coincidence that he saw you. After having a mental fight with himself, he turned his car around and slowed down by the sidewalk.

You, wearing leggings, a sweater, long socks and tennis shoes and your hair down. Eyes focused on your phone as you struggled to find a good song to play through your headphones. Your ballet bag hanging off your shoulder and takeout in the opposite hand.

Smiling, Lando rolled his window down. "Y/n!"

You furrowed your brows, looking up and seeing a familiar face.

"Lando? What are you- are you following me now?!" You asked, stopping to talk as he stopped his car.

"What? Wha- no! I was driving by and you were just there!" He defended himself, nervous about your reaction.

"Uh huh..."

"Do you want a ride home?" Lando asked, tilting his head a little.

"Are you going to kidnap me if I get in?"

"Y/n! No! Stop that, just-...do you want a ride, or no?" He asked, hoping for you to say yes.

"Um...." You looked at the ground, then the buildings, and finally met his eyes, "Okay, yeah, thanks."

You opened the back door and threw your bags in, placing the food on the ground. Then, you got in the front, taking your headphones off and buckling up.

"How was practice?" Lando asked, pulling onto the road again and heading to your apartment building.

"It was okay. Lots of criticizing." You sighed, toying with your sweater string.

"About?" Lando loved your love for ballet. But sometimes, he wished he could beat your instructor. Always bringing you down, for no reason. In his eyes, you were perfect. He was well aware that he liked you...more than friends.

“Form, diet, you know..all that shit.” You laughed, watching as Lando skillfully pulled into the parking garage of your apartment. “Thanks for driving me, Lando.” You smiled, getting out and grabbing your bags as Lando exited the car as well.

“Care if I come up?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket as you nodded and started walking, Lando quick on your trail.

‘Maybe he does like me…’ you thought as you both walked into your apartment and you started to split up the food you had ordered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.albon, carlossainz55, and 982,194 others

landonorris: nights like this❤️

view comments…

y/n.albon: ♾️

*liked by creator*

oscarpiastri: have something to tell us, mate?

↳ landonorris: nah

f1wags: we have been summoned, WHAT

user3: it’s y/n bro i’m telling you

alex_albon: um…ok…..

ln4editpagee: we all know y/n took that first pic

user8: that’s literally y/n, i know those headphones anywhereeee

williams4life: alex has to be freaking out omg

↳ formula1wags: lily has to deal with the freak out too😭💀

y/ns1fp4: MOTHERRRR MOTHER MOTHER

user1: obsessed with this post, it’s my roman empire fr

user3: do we stay calm or freak out guys??????

↳ vrooms19: BOTH

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

tag: @rhythmstars

if you would like a tag for future parts of this series, leave a comment here and i’ll add you :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

462 notes · View notes

purplecoffee13 · 8 days ago

Text

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

#harry styles #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #blurb #harry #one direction #one shot #smut #excerpt #harryedwardstyles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles

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0cta9on · 4 months ago

Text

Unlikely Duet - 8

Length: 18k+ words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: First of all, thanks to @msafterhours for beta reading! This chapter wouldn't have been as good without your input :] TW: Violence and mention of blood. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, it was a blast to write :> )

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

It’s weird. It’s a Monday, universally agreed to be the most hated day of the week, and yet, here I am, waking up with a smile on my face like it’s the most regular thing in the world. I had no weird dreams this time around, but that didn’t stop Minji from being the first person I thought about the second I opened my eyes. Whatever I said before about love being stupid, scratch that. I feel invincible.

After quickly getting ready, I head downstairs to see my dad cooking breakfast, an image I’m slowly getting used to. It feels comforting knowing someone cares enough about me to go through all the trouble of cooking a meal.

“Good morning, dad.”

“Good morning, Yuno. You seem happy this morning,” he smirks at me.

My face already aches, not used to smiling this much. “Yeah, just… excited for school, I guess,” I shrug.

“Mhm, sure,” he chuckles, sliding a plate of food towards me. “Eat up.” Right before I dig into my breakfast, I send a text to the group chat, asking Winter and Yujin if they want to meet up at the convenience store and walk to school together.

Winter: sure thing :)

Yujin: yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Actual food for breakfast, actual friends to walk to school with, and an actual crush I get to see at school? It’s only morning and already this day feels perfect.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My heart thumps with anxiety while my parents sit across from me at the dining table, completely oblivious to the dread I feel in every fiber of my being. In order for me to survive at the banquet tomorrow, I need them to agree to let me bring a plus one. Specifically, I need them to let me bring Yuno, the one person they specifically told me to stay away from.

I inhale deeply, firming up my resolve as best as I can. “Um, Mother? Father?”

They both look up at me. “Yes, dear?” Mother answers.

“About the banquet tomorrow-” “Ah right, Ms. Park told me that Sunghoon is excited to see you again after so long. Isn’t that nice?”

I bite my tongue to keep myself from visibly cringing. “Right, um, I actually wanted to ask you if I could bring a friend to the banquet.”

They exchange looks at each other before turning back to me. “I don’t see why not. Who did you want to invite?”

“Um… Yuno.”

“Absolutely not!” Mother answers a bit too quickly. “We told you already that we don’t want you associating with that boy! Why don’t you bring any of your other friends, like Danielle, or even Hanni would be more acceptable than him.”

“Because, uh…” I need to think of a lie, something, anything that can convince them. “...Because he has an interest in the business,” I blurt out. Not my best work, but it’s better than nothing. Both of them furrow their brows, unconvinced, yet neither of them say a word, simply waiting for my explanation.

“I, uh, told him about the family business and he got so, um, inspired by your story that he wants to, uh, pursue a business degree in college.”

Their glares feel like spotlights, scrutinizing my every little move. Mother’s expression remains the same — bewildered and a little irked — but I can see the gears slowly turning in Father’s pensive gaze.

“I thought the banquet would be a good opportunity for him to make connections in the industry, y’know, just like how you want me to,” I continue. “You two always emphasize the importance of making strong connections in case I need help in the future, so why can’t I be the connection that helps Yuno?”

“Honey, we are not charity workers-”

“Wait,” Father says, turning towards her. “I think we should let him come.”

Both mine and my mother’s eyes grow wide in surprise.

“Really?” We say in unison.

“I’ve always had a firm belief in education, both in and out of the classroom. This banquet could be an opportunity for him to better himself. He clearly has no plans for the future otherwise.”

Mother opens her mouth to argue, but instead sighs and nods. “Fine, we will permit Yuno to come to the banquet.”

I almost can’t believe the words coming out of their mouths. My plan is actually going to work. I’m so happy I could cry.

“But,” she adds, “If he causes any trouble, we forbid you from seeing him outside of school, okay?”

“Y-yes, of course, I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble! Thank yo-”

“And I don’t want you sneaking off and being alone with that boy. We’ll have Sunghoon stick with the two of you the entire time.”

My ears start to ring like a massive bomb just dropped nearby.

“...W-what!?”

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

The morning sun warms my skin as I wait for my friends by the convenience store. Birds fly above, singing their spring song like gentle plucks of a violin, sonorous yet fragile. A clear sky hangs overhead, unblemished by smog or storm clouds. It almost feels like mother nature herself wants me to have a good day.

“Good morning, Yuno!”

“YUNOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Winter and Yujin appear in the distance, walking towards me.

“Hey,” I greet them with a wave. They both stop in their tracks, eyeing me with surprise. “...What?”

“You’re smiling,” Winter states as if it’s the most insane thing she’s ever seen.

I turn my head away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Y-yeah, so what?”

“Aw, Winter, you ruined it,” Yujin teases. “He looked so happy.”

I sigh. “...Let’s just go.”

Both of them chuckle, taking their spot on either side of me like it’s where they belong. For so long, I walked the same route to school alone every morning, yet today, it feels a little different. The colors on the buildings and the street signs seem so much more vivid, the air smells like fresh grass and blooming flowers, puddles and windows glisten like diamonds as they reflect the sun’s morning light. A part of me thinks that I’m dreaming again — when did the world look this beautiful? But the way Yujin nudges my side to show me a drawing he’s working on or the way Winter clutches onto my shoulder after almost tripping on nothing lets me know that all of this is real. The world that I used to hate waking up to is now a world that I can look at with a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

______________________________________________________________

As the three of us walk through the hallways of Evergreen, I feel the familiar stares of the other students, eyeing me like some kind of untamed beast that could jump out at them at any moment. Even with everything else changing around me, I can always count on high schoolers to be ever stagnant and predictable in their behaviors. Although, something in their eyes feels a little peculiar. Instead of just fear, there’s something else hiding behind it. Intrigue? Admiration? Maybe these rose-tinted lenses are starting to make me see things.

“P-people sure d-do stare a lot, h-huh?” Winter asks, her voice shrinking to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” I glance back at them, both their gazes glued to the ground, clearly not used to the unwanted attention. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you guys.”

“It’s okay, Yuno, it’s not your fault,” Yujin reassures me.

“Y-yeah, I’m sure w-we’ll get used to it,” Winter adds with a small grin. Man, what did I do to deserve these two?

The five minute warning bell rings, sending the students still left in the hallways in a hurry. I say my goodbyes to Winter and Yujin as we part ways, enduring the usual stares and hushed voices as I make my way to my seay in the back. Still, something feels odd about the way they’re looking at me today. I try to meet their eyes to get a better look, but everyone keeps looking away, pretending like they weren’t whispering about me to their friends. If this keeps going on for the rest of the day, I’m gonna be pissed.

“Yuno Lin to the principal’s office, Yuno Lin to the principal’s office. Now,” the PA system announces, giving me a wave of deja vu. I have a couple guesses for what this could be about…

______________________________________________________________

Instead of coming out the gate swinging, Mr. Geier just sits at his desk, his hands clasped in deep thought. Normally, I would be pretty indifferent to whatever he has to say, but after everything Minji said to me, I suddenly feel guilty sitting in front of him. It probably isn’t easy dealing with my shit on a weekly basis.

“So…” he starts, finally looking up at me after a few minutes of silence. “I’m sure you know why you’re in here, Yuno.”

“Yup…”

He sighs. “The McGraw’s donate a lot of money to this school. They didn’t exactly take well to receiving a call that their son was found unconscious in the bathroom with a broken nose.”

Ah shit. This is it. The consequences of my actions have finally caught up to me. Fate, you cruel bastard, making me wake up in a good mood for the first time in years, only to send me to jail before the day even starts. Goodbye dad, Yujin, Winter, and Minji. Minji…

“But…”

But…!

“...They’ve decided not to press charges.”

“What!?” I exclaim, relieved and deeply confused.

“We received a tip from one of the boys on the football team that Tyler had been bullying a group of freshman boys for months. They still wanted to press charges anyways, but I may have… insinuated that if they did, I would ensure Tyler could only set foot into a community college at best.”

My eyes widen, slowly connecting the dots. “Did you…?”

“No, it was not for you,” he states matter-of-factly. “It was for the sake of all the freshmen that suffered because of him.”

“R-right.” I sink back into my chair, feeling sheepish. “So… what happens now? Detention? Suspension?”

“No, I have something else in mind for you.”

Just then, the door to Mr. Geier’s office swings open, sending in a wave of lavender and rainbows into his office as the girl of my dreams walks through.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Geier?” Minji says before turning to me, a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Perfect timing, Minji,” he says, “This is Yuno Lin. Yuno, this is Minji Kim, the student council president.”

Minji shoots me a confused look, but I’m too distracted by her beauty to pay full attention. Her hair is in a ponytail today with two strands of hair framing her perfect face. The sound of my thumping heart gets louder in my ears, drowning out whatever Geier is saying. Hopefully it’s not anything important. What could be more important than Minji? God, she’s so pretty, I-

“Yuno, are you paying attention?” Mr. Geier snaps at me.

“S-sorry, what?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Minji stifling a giggle, making my cheeks burn red.

“As I was saying, your punishment will be to help Minji with prom preparations. Whatever she asks you to do, you do it. If you cause any trouble for her, she’ll report it to me and you will face the consequences, understand?”

You mean I get to spend more time with Minji? As a punishment? “Yup, I understand,” I say, trying not to look too eager.

“Good.” He turns towards Minji. “Just make him lift the heavy stuff or something. He can be a handful, but he, uh… He means well.” How sweet, Geier. I’m blushing.

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem,” she says, smirking. “We’ve actually met bef-”

“U-uh, it’s nice to meet you for the first time ever, Ms. President!” I exclaim, shoving my hand towards her before she can utter another word. If Geier finds out that his “punishment” is more like a “blessing” for me, he’ll probably give me some other grunt work to deal with.

Minji awkwardly shakes my hand, giving me a curious expression. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Yuno.” The feeling of her soft hand against mine beats out any kind of embarrassment I should be feeling right now.

“Alright, you can head back to class now, Minji,” Mr. Geier dismisses her. She gives me a small yet bewildered grin before exiting his office, leaving me alone with the principal yet again. My gaze lingers towards the door even after it closes, wishing she’ll pop back in for a few more seconds.

“So,” he begins, taking me out of my daydreams. “You got lucky. Extremely lucky. However, that doesn’t mean you can keep doing this and expecting to get out scot free just because I stick my neck out for you. There are rules here, and I understand that you may not agree with those rules, but they are there regardless, which means you must follow them just like everybody else. No more playing vigilante just because you can, you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I- you what?” He asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Uh, I said I understand and I’m sorry,” I reiterate sheepishly.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good. As long as you understand.” It’s almost offensive just how shocked he is, as if I didn’t know my own actions were wrong. I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.

“I’m going back to class,” I state, getting up from my chair. Right before I exit his office, I turn to Geier one last time. “Uh, my dad is doing better now.”

He looks up at me, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. “Really? That’s great to hear, Yuno.”

I give him a nod before shutting the door behind me. I’m not sure what exactly compelled me to tell him that, just a hunch that told me it was the right thing to do at the moment. Geier did ask about him last time, so it only makes sense. I guess.

As I turn the corner, I catch Minji leaning against the wall right outside of Geier’s office. Was she waiting for me?

“Oh. Hey,” I greet her with a small wave. “Hey!” She says, flashing me a smile that could bring about world peace. “What did Mr. Geier talk to you about? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“It was about the, uh… thing that happened with Tyler.”

“Ah, right. So his idea of a punishment for you is to be around me? Ouch,” she jokes. We walk through the halls together despite not sharing the same first period (or any period for that matter). A weird energy hangs in the space between us, like a balloon threatening to pop if either of us get too close. My mind tiptoes on the fence between pushing my luck or staying in a comfortable space. In the end, I throw caution to the wind and close the gap just a little.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it’s a punishment at all,” I say, thinking out loud.

“That’s very kind of you, Yuno,” she chimes, a hint of pink gracing her cheeks. Simply being around her is making my heart pound like crazy. Can she hear it? God, I hope not. How am I supposed to control myself when she’s this cute? I just want to-

“Oh!” Minji suddenly stops and points at my face. Shit, was I thinking out loud again? Is she secretly psychic and can hear all my thoughts this whole time?

“W-what?” I ask, flustered.

“You’re smiling.”

I awkwardly clear my throat, wiping the smile off my face. “Y-yeah, so what? Am I not allowed to smile?”

She giggles at me. “No, you’re allowed to smile. In fact, I think you should smile more often, I rarely ever get to see you smile.”

“W-whatever,” I mutter, trying to hide the growing blush on my face. “About the banquet tomorrow, is there a dress code or something? I, uh, don’t own a suit,” I ask, changing the subject.

Minji’s expression suddenly darkens as a dejected sigh floats from her lips. “Oh right, the banquet…” she groans.

“S-sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assures me. “My parents just told me this morning that if I’m gonna bring you along, the guy I’m trying to avoid has to stick around us the whole time, rendering my whole plan basically useless.”

“This guy you’re trying to avoid, is he, um….” I gulp nervously. “...your ex?”

“Ew! Oh my god, no!” Minji exclaims. “He’s the son of my parents’ business partners. He used to be a complete menace towards me when we were kids until he moved away during middle school. Oh my god, the thought of us ever dating is just…” Her entire body shivers in disgust.

I try my best to appear neutral, but inside, fireworks are going off in my head. It’s like Christmas came early this year. I have to physically fight off another smile from growing on my face.

“So, what are we gonna do now? Maybe…” I search my mind for another possible solution for her problem, but only one comes up, and frankly, it’s the best possible case for her and the worst possible case for me. I sigh in disappointment. “...maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

Her gaze shoots up at me. “What?”

“If I don’t go, then you won’t be forced to be around him the entire time,” I explain.

“But I-”

“I’ll probably stick out like a sore thumb anyways, being in a room full of a bunch of rich business people. Your parents already don’t like me, what would they all think of me being around you? Maybe it’s best if I don’t go-”

“Stop!” She suddenly exclaims, a fire burning in her irises. “I invited you because I want you to go, okay? Screw my original plan, screw everyone who judges you, and especially screw Sunghoon! You’re my friend and I want you to be there, don’t worry about all that superficial nonsense.” Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, carrying the determination of her words. No wonder people voted for her as student council president, a speech like that could move anyone to action.

After a short pause, I concede. “...Okay, I’ll go.”

A smile replaces the serious expression she had, sending my heart into another frenzy. “Thank you, Yuno. All you have to do is enjoy yourself, don’t worry about scaring him off or anything dumb like that.”

Enjoy myself. At a banquet. That I certainly don’t belong in. Sure, I can do that.

“I should probably head back to the student council room, I still have a lot of work to do,” she says. “I, um… I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll see ya later.” And just like that, Minji disappears down the halls, leaving me standing here like a fool in love. The warmth in my chest feels like it’s gonna get hotter and hotter until I explode. I desperately hope she needs my help with prom preparations later.

______________________________________________________________

The presence of a substitute would normally mean all chaos ensues, but the odd tension hanging in the air during English practically suffocates any chances of socialization. I didn’t exactly mind nor care, but the silence only made the nervous glances towards me even more obvious. Furthermore, thanks to Tyler’s “disappearance”, his friends on the other side of the room don’t even try to hide their accusatory pointing and disdainful glares. Their sentiments aren’t exactly wrong, but it’s still annoying being on the receiving end of them. Surely, they know better than to start any dumb shit right now.

And yet, I’m unsurprisingly proven wrong as one of them, a tall boy with blonde hair (is his name Connor? Colton? I have no clue), stomps towards me with fury in his eyes.

“Hey,” he growls at me, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to Tyler, would you?”

A sigh escapes me. Welp, that’s what I get for getting my hopes up. “Is he not here today? I had no idea,” I mutter, not giving him so much as a glance.

He slams his fist into my desk, causing everyone to look back at the commotion with fearful glances, including Winter. I shake my head reassuringly at her, but unfortunately, Tyler’s friend notices this and scoffs to himself.

“Behind the gym during lunch. Don’t be late.” He glances in Winter’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Or else.”

My fingernails dig into my palms as I ball my fist up in anger, my heart pumping with anger. For the first time since he came over, I glare at him, watching his cocky facade crack in front of my eyes as he scurries back to his little group with his tail in between his legs.

Dammit. God fucking dammit. Is it so hard for me to have one good day without having to deal with anyone’s shit? I notice Winter still staring at me with a worried look, so I conjure up my best convincing smile. She nods and turns back to her book, but I’m not sure if it ends up working.

It’s clear that he wants a fight. Of course he wants a goddamn fight.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno: I won’t be at lunch. I have something I need to deal with.

I send the text to the group chat as I pace around, waiting for Tyler’s goons to show up. The area behind the school’s gym is basically a cesspool for rule breaking; half the concrete is covered in cigarette butts, glass shards, and other mysterious stains from other’s unseemly activities that I’d rather stay unaware of. It’s a wonder how none of the teachers look back here with how often students frequent this place.

Finally, the boy from English class (Kayden? Kenneth? It starts with a K sound, I know that much) appears, alongside a dozen other boys that I’ve seen hanging around Tyler. A few of them are unarmed, but most are carrying broken mop handles. One guy has a pocket knife, so that’s something at least.

“Hey fuckface!” The blonde boy yells. “You think you can mess with Tyler just because you think you’re all high and mighty? Well, newsflash pal, you’re not!”

“Yeah!” His entourage cheers him on.

This is comical. These guys attend a high school in the suburbs, and yet they’re parading around like a bunch of wannabe gangsters. Did they rehearse their lines or something? Why does he talk like a movie bully from the 1950s? It’s taking every fiber of my being not to burst out laughing right now.

“You made a big mistake pal, and we’re gonna make you regret-”

“Fuck, alright!” I groan in annoyance. “Are we doing this or not?”

I stretch my arms, loosening myself up as they timidly inch closer with their little sticks pointed towards me. This could be over in the blink of an eye if I want it to, but I promised Minji I would stop fighting, so I won’t. Not exactly sure what that means, but I’m not exactly known for planning these things out.

I’m not a fighting expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve been in enough to recognize certain patterns. Shaky eyes. Quivering breath. Their knuckles burning white as they clench their fists too hard to compensate for the fact that they have no idea what they’re doing. With each step they take, it only becomes more apparent how downright terrified they are. I almost feel bad for them.

It’s not like I wanted this either, but I brought this upon myself of my own volition. These guys could have said no and went about their day, living their regular high school lives, but instead, they’re rallying behind some guy they’re probably not close with just for a measly ounce of street cred they get for “showing their loyalty,” effectively reducing themselves to lap dogs that get the “privilege” of calling themselves popular. I’m not doing this for street cred or privilege or any of that bullshit that they care too much about. I’m doing this because the asshole that they’re rallying behind threatened my friend.

Inevitably, one of them gets brave enough to make the first move. He swings his stick, hollering at the top of his lungs, and misses wildly as I dodge to the side. The next guy gets lucky, breaking his stick against my arm as I block the side of my head. My arm stings like hell, but I can’t focus on that for too long before the rest of them start getting confident and lunging at me.

Even in the midst of the frenzy, as I dodge a swing aimed towards my head or suffer a kick to the stomach, all I can think about is Minji. I made a promise to her, one I have no intention of breaking. Rather than a fight between me and the dozens of Tyler’s lackeys, it feels more like a fight between me and my instincts, actively trying to suppress the years of bad habits just for Minji. A part of me feels stupid for doing it - it’s not like she’ll ever see this anyways - yet I continue to subdue my instincts, even if it means sustaining a couple brutal blows to the body.

One of the bigger guys in the group tackles me to the ground, taking the wind out of me as my back collides with the hard concrete. My ears start to ring as he lands two solid punches to my cheek. I flail my hands wildly to the side, desperate for something to grab, before landing on a pile of broken glass. Ignoring the blood rushing to my palms, I chuck the shards at his face. He yelps in pain, allowing me to push him off and get back to my feet. Before I can even blink, my head begins to spin as another punch sends me careening towards the brick wall. Warm blood leaks through my lips, staining my shirt. Two more guys stand over me before hoisting me up by my arms.

I’m fucking exhausted. My vision is blurry and the ringing in my ears grows louder by the second. Each inhale burns just a bit hotter than the last. I’m covered in blood again, but this time, it’s all my own. Every cell in my body screams at me for getting into this situation in the first place, berating me for my own stubbornness. Yet the blonde boy, Kyle or whatever the fuck his name is, stands in front of me unscathed, not even a drop of sweat on his brow. The rest of his buddies are on the ground, breathless and covered in injuries they got from tripping over each other. I cough out a weak chuckle, sending a jolt of pain through my chest.

“W-what the fuck are you laughing at?!” Even his threats are starting to get shaky.

“Just funny… You called me out here… Yet… You didn’t do shit…” I mutter. “Fucking… coward…”

The fury ignites in his eyes, the same one present when he first called me out in English. He grabs a broken mop handle off the ground and swings it overhead, aiming for my face. This is it. Started this day off with a smile, and look where I’m at now. In the back of my mind, I always knew I would go out like this. It’s a shame this had to happen after I finally found something to look forward to. With a shallow breath, my eyes flutter shut as I unwillingly accept my fate.

Suddenly, a loud siren blares through the air. The stick that was sailing towards my head mere seconds ago now clatters to the ground. Mr. Geier pops up from behind the building with a megaphone in his hand, alongside two teachers, Winter, Yujin, Danielle, and Minji.

“What the hell are you doing!? Put him down NOW!” Geier yells through the megaphone. I collapse to my knees as the two idiots drop me to the ground. A mix of emotions swirl through my head, but the sense of relief shines clearest through the storm. The fact that I’m alive almost makes everything feel more painful.

As the teachers reprimand the other guys, Minji and the others rush over to me, their overlapping voices of worry combined with the ringing in my ears making it impossible to make out anything. I want to tell them that it’s fine, I made it out alive. In a shit ton of pain, but alive nonetheless. No words come out. My vision is starting to blur again. Minji’s face is the last thing I see before everything turns to black.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms as I let out a long, exhausted sigh. It feels like no matter how much progress I make with prom, there’s still a whole mountain of things I still need to do.

Danielle walks through the door of the student council room, carrying a pile of papers with her. I nearly burst into tears just looking at the size of the stack.

“Relax,” she says reassuringly, reading my expression. “These are all taken care of.”

I slide farther into my chair, releasing a deep breath. “Oh thank god, I don’t think I can handle doing anymore paperwork.”

She grins, taking a seat next to me. “The principal approved the caterers and our ‘Red Carpet’ theme, I informed the club leaders to start working on their floats for the prom parade, and Woohyuk and Julie from the art club agreed to paint a mural in the gym. All we have left to do is pick a venue, find a DJ, and prepare decorations.”

“You say that like it’s an easy thing to do.” I sigh, resting my head on the table while Danielle merely shrugs her shoulders. A couple minutes of silence pass, both of us exhausted and overwhelmed by the ever growing pile of work. “Are Woohyuk and Julie dating?” I ask, making small talk.

“I think so. They seem to have gotten a lot closer after the school festival, and they wouldn’t stop shooting each other heart eyes when I asked them to paint the mural. It was sickening,” she jokes.

Dating in high school always felt like an enigma to me. Statistically speaking, only 20% of couples last until college, and only 10% ever get married. High schoolers are the most emotional, stubborn, immature, and hormonal people on the planet (according to my parents), why would you want to date someone like that? But it’s not like I don’t want to date… I just never had the chance to. I would be lying if I said I don’t look at couples walking arm-in-arm through the halls with some kind of envy. Wouldn’t it be nice to go through the struggles of your teen years with someone that understands you because they’re going through the exact same thing? I say that, and then I look out the potential dating pool at Evergreen, only to be reminded of why I haven’t dated anyone. I mean, there is one guy I wouldn’t mind dating…

“Why do you ask?” Danielle says, interrupting my train of thought.

“U-uh nothing, just curious.” My cheeks suddenly flare up with heat as she leans forward, scrutinizing my expression.

“Are you thinking about that boy again?

My eyes go wide as I shake my head profusely. “W-what, no! Why would I be thinking about Yuno?”

“Because I didn’t even mention a name, yet your mind automatically went to Yuno.” She raises her eyebrows in an ‘I told you so’ expression, causing me to shrink in my chair. “Are you really gonna fall for someone like that just because he saves your purse from a thief?”

“I told you I—Huh? How do you know about that?”

Danielle takes her phone out and pulls up a video from a local news account titled, “Heroic Man Stops Mall Purse Thief.” My eyes grow even wider as the video plays, showing Yuno tackling the thief who stole my purse and the… awkward hug I gave him afterwards. Apparently, someone had recorded the entire altercation and uploaded it to social media. It now has…

“Five million views?!” I exclaim. That explains all the weird looks I’ve been getting today. I faceplant into the table, my face burning with a fire of a thousand suns. So that means the entire school saw me… hugging Yuno… I mean, why do I feel so embarrassed in the first place? Hugging is a perfectly normal way to show gratitude towards someone. He got my purse back, so a hug seems pretty normal, right? It’s not like people are gonna assume we’re dating. Not that I have any problem with dating him, it’s just…

I let out a sigh. “Danielle…” I groan, my voice muffled by the table.

“Hm?” I feel her gently pat my shoulder in support. I lift my head, turning towards her.

“What do I do?”

She tilts her head at me, confused. “Do you want them to take the video down?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s… I don’t know. I’m so lost. There’s a lot going on with prom and my parents, it feels like I’m being tossed back and forth in a tornado with nothing around to hold onto for support. There’s things that I want to do that seem so… impossible given the circumstances. I wish I could freeze time just so I could have a moment to myself to think.” I slump back onto the table in defeat while Danielle continues to rub my shoulder.

Compared to the rest of the girls, Danielle is the most logical one. Hanni does everything she can to cheer me up, Haerin lends an ear and a shoulder to cry on no matter what, Hyein is always there to show me the brighter side of things, and Danielle is prepared with an easy 3-step solution to virtually any of my problems. If I’m drowning in a sea of doubt and anxiety, I know she’ll be there with a spare life vest and an intricately made wooden raft to hoist me out of the water. But not even she has the answers to everything.

Suddenly, the door to the student council room swings open.

“We need help,” a familiar voice shoots through the door. “Quickly.”

Yuno’s friends stand in the doorway panting, worry painted on their faces. Winter looks like she’s on the verge of tears while Yujin’s normally cheery disposition is hauntingly absent.

“What’s wrong?” Danielle asks.

“I-I’m not sure, b-but I think h-he’s in a fight right n-now, behind the g-gym,” Winter answers, her voice breaking.

A fight? N-no… What if he gets hurt?

I hurriedly jump to my feet, my mind racing. “Danielle, Yujin, go get Principal Geier. Winter, come with me,” I command, panic evident in my voice. The four of us promptly leave the student council room, with Danielle and Yujin diverging to the principal’s office while Winter and I walk briskly towards the gym.

“Tell me everything. What do you mean Yuno might be in a fight?” I ask her.

“D-during English, Cameron w-went up to Yuno and he looked r-really angry. I-I couldn’t hear everything th-they were saying, but it s-sounded like he told him to m-meet behind the gym during l-lunch,” she explains. I pick up the pace, adrenaline pumping through my body. With each passing step, all I can think about is one thing.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

______________________________________________________________

As we turn the corner to the back of the gym, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach while my breath gets completely sucked from my lungs. Two boys hold up Yuno’s limp body as a third prepares to swing a stick straight towards his head. I wanna scream, I wanna run to him and make sure he’s okay, but my entire body stays frozen in place. Why does it have to be Yuno? Why couldn’t it be anyone else? I was just talking to him a few hours ago, he was fine. He was smiling. I wish I could see that smile on his face again. Please.

“M-Minji,” Danielle softly calls out my name, wiping the tears off my face with concern in her eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying. She holds me as I uncontrollably sob into her shoulder, my heart aching with an indescribable pain. It feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside. I need him to be okay. Please.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she says, patting my arm. I look up from her shoulder, wiping away my tears, to see Yuno collapse to the floor. Mr. Geier and the other two teachers with us yell at the rest of the boys to line up against the wall using harsh language I’ve never heard him say before. The four of us get down by his side, desperate to make sure he’s okay.

“H-he’s fine, right? He’ll be okay, right? D-Dani?” Yujin asks, his voice quivering as he looks up at her for reassurance.

“Just, um, give him some room to breathe for now.”

“Y-Y-Y-Yuno…” Winter’s entire body shakes as she weeps into her hands. I should comfort her. I’m the student council president, it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone’s okay. But my own tears won’t stop flowing as I gently cup his cheek, swollen and red with cuts. You were awake earlier. Your eyes were open and you were smiling. Please wake up. Please smile again, Yuno. Please.

“Guys, we have to take him to the nurse, now!” Mr. Geier exclaims, grabbing Yuno by the arms. “Help me get his legs up!”

The three of them lift up his legs while I’m still too busy crying to help. My body is moving, following close behind them, but my mind is too muddled to properly process anything. The next few minutes are nothing but a blur of hallways and odd stares from students exiting the lunch room. I don’t care. I don’t care about what other students think of Yuno. I don’t care about what my parents think of him. I don’t care about what people at the banquet will think of him. All I care about is him and making sure that he’s okay.

Once we arrive at the nurse’s office, they gently lay his body on one of the cots. I sit down next to him, just staring at his face. His chest slowly rises and falls with breath. That’s good. He’s breathing. He’s alive.

Mr. Geier says something to us that I can’t quite make out. All of their voices fade into the background of my mind like nothing was ever said in the first place. Mr. Geier leaves, with Winter and Yujin following soon after. Danielle sits down next to me and says something, but I’m too distracted to listen right now. She ends up leaving soon too. All I can do is sit here and wait for him to wake up. Please wake up soon. Please.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My eyes blink open to a blotchy field of grays and blacks. I try to sit up, but a stabbing pain shoots through my entire body. Every breath feels like hell to get through. Memories of what happened moments before I passed out come back to me. I almost got my skull busted open, and then there was this loud siren. I thought I saw Minji before I passed out, but I’m not too sure. Fuck, my body hurts like hell. Where am I anyways?

As my vision begins to focus, I see the familiar fluorescent lights of the school glaring back at me. I finally sit up, doing my best to ignore the pain in my back, and look around - the nurse’s office. The school’s nurse, a skinny woman with giant glasses and violently pink scrubs, sits at her desk and types away at her computer, oblivious to my consciousness. I consider saying something to let her know I’m awake, but my throat is too dry to produce any noise.

I turn to my left and my heart stops in my chest. Minji is lying on the cot next to me, sleeping peacefully. I start to wonder if this is all just another weird dream, but as I reach out and gently brush the hair from her face, the soft skin of her cheek feels too real. Even when she’s sleeping, she’s so beautiful. But… Why is she here?

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the nurse says, rising from her desk. I quickly retract my hand from Minji’s face. “Principal Geier explained everything that happened. How are you feeling?”

I stretch my limbs, testing how much I can withstand the pain before it becomes unbearable. “Could be better, but I’m alive and breathing at least,” I say. “Uh, what is she doing here? Did she get hurt?” My voice raises slightly as I gesture to Minji’s sleeping form. If those fuckers did anything to her, I’m gonna-

“I think she’s fine. She came in with you and wouldn’t move or speak, even after Principal Geier told the rest of the kids to get back to class. She just sat there, watching over you until she fell asleep,” the nurse explains.

I sign in relief, thankful that she’s not hurt, but the nurse’s explanation only produces more questions. Why didn’t she leave? I’m sure she’s busy with a million other things, watching over me will only set her back even more. It’s not like this is the first time this kind of thing has happened to me. Something similar happened right before I met Minji. I’ll feel like shit for a few days, but I’m relatively fine.

So why did she stay?

The nurse pats my shoulder, handing me an ice bag. “I have to go, some kid threw up in the library, just put this wherever you feel like it. Will you and your girlfriend be fine here alone?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “She’s not m- Uh, sure, we’ll be fine.”

She exits the room, leaving me alone with Minji. The silence gives me a moment to get my thoughts straight as the ice bag partially soothes my headache. Her face is so still and peaceful, I slow down my breaths despite the pain just so I don’t wake her up. The last time I saw her face like this was when we slept in the same bed after she almost got attacked in front of the convenience store. My heart still burns with anger at the thought of Minji nearly getting hurt. I want to protect her. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, I want to be there for her in any way I can. In the short time I’ve known Minji, it feels like I’m becoming a better person, or maybe I’m just becoming more and more foolish. I don’t know. Feelings are confusing.

Minji’s eyes suddenly flutter open, and as soon as they meet mine, she jumps up, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Y-you’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake!” She sobs into my shoulders. I completely freeze in her arms, the surprise overtaking the pain.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Minji. Are you okay?” I ask, awkwardly patting her back. She separates from me, tears overflowing from her eyes. With each drop that falls, I feel my heart crack into a billion pieces, this pain worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. Hesitantly, I wipe away her tears with my uninjured hand, making sure my movements are gentle.

“H-hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” She takes a moment to calm down, sinking her cheek into my palm as she controls her breathing. I don’t dare move my hand, even after most of the tears stop flowing.

“I-I was… so worried… that y-you wouldn’t… wake up…” She stutters in between sniffles. “I-I thought you w-were… th-thought you were… dea-”

“I’m okay, Minji,” I interrupt her, afraid she’ll start bawling again if she finishes her sentence. “U-um, please stop crying. I’m okay.”

She takes one more deep breath before sitting back down, regretfully moving my hand from her cheek. We sit in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. She cried after getting attacked by the convenience store, but this time seems different. This time, she wasn’t crying for her, she was crying for me.

“Wait here,” Minji mutters before getting up and walking over to the sink in the corner of the room. I watch silently as she pulls out a few things from the cupboard and fiddles with the sink for a moment before walking back over to me. She gently places a bowl of water and a hand towel next to me before taking out a juice box and poking a straw through the top.

“Here.” She brings the straw to my lips, making me flinch slightly.

“Oh. Thanks.” I take it from her, drinking it as she dips the towel into the water and gently tends to my cut up hand. My body recoils from her touch more than the pain itself. It still feels foreign to me, being cared for like this. Never in a million years did I imagine someone like Minji Kim to pop into my life. She’s way too good for me. What good would I be as her boyfriend? What good am I as her friend for that matter? I don’t want to be a nuisance in her life. I want- No, I need to be better. For her.

She finishes wrapping the gauze around my hand. “Is that okay? Not too tight?” She asks, her voice slightly hoarse from crying.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” I look at her, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this. You should’ve just left-”

“Why did you get into another fight? I thought you said you wouldn’t fight anymore.” Her tone turns stern, softly reprimanding my decisions.

“I didn’t fight,” I assure her. “If I didn’t show up, they were gonna go after Winter, but I promise, I didn’t try to hit them or anything.”

“So you just let them beat you up!?” Minji shoots me a look of disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes.

“N-no! I-I dodged and stuff, they just got a few lucky hits in!” I hastily try to explain myself, hoping she doesn’t cry again. In hindsight, it sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud. I went to the back of the gym, fully expecting there to be a crowd of people wanting to kick my ass, and the only plan I had was to… not fight? Even if I did make it out fine, did I just expect Minji not to say anything about the sudden abundance of injuries all over my body? God, I’m such a dumbass.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone!? A-a teacher!? Principal Geier!? Me!?” The look of outrage alone is enough to make me feel like a child getting scolded by their parents. My gaze falls to the ground, hiding my embarrassed blush.

“I, uh… I didn’t think of that…” I shamefully admit. She sits next to me, sighing into her hands. Seconds stretch into entire years as tense silence overtakes the room. Even my own breathing feels comparable to a car engine with how quiet everything is.

My entire body freezes as I feel Minji rest her head on my shoulder. Her silky black hair tickles my neck while the scent of her lavender perfume wafts through my nose, giving me visions of running through a clear field full of nothing but lavender stems. “Do you know why I’m mad at you?” She asks, her voice surprisingly mild.

“Uh, because I’m… stupid?”

She chuckles lightly at my half-joke. “You’re not stupid. What you did was stupid, but no, that’s not why I’m mad.”

“Because, uh… I didn’t talk to you first?”

“Bingo.” She lifts her head up to look at me. Her face is close, I can feel the warmth emanating from her soft cheeks. “I know you wanted to protect Winter, but you ended up getting hurt in the process. If you had just gone to a teacher, those boys would’ve been reprimanded without you having to get hurt.”

“They would not have been reprimanded-”

“Okay, fine, they probably wouldn’t have been seriously reprimanded without any solid evidence,” she concedes. “But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you. And I…” Her voice cracks like delicate porcelain. “...I was worried sick about you.”

I gulp, finally feeling the weight of my actions. For years, everything I’ve done has only affected me. I never had to second guess anything. But things are different now. I have people around me that care about my well-being, which means all of my actions have some kind of effect on them. This whole thing sprouted from me wanting to protect a friend, but in the end, they got hurt because of me.

“I’m sorry, Minji. For being stupid and not talking to you and letting myself get hurt.”

She nods, offering an appreciative grin. “Next time something like this happens, just text me first so I can at least try to talk you out of it, okay?”

How could I ever say no to a face like that? “Okay.”

Minji’s smile widens, and like a mirror, I can feel my own lips curling to reflect her joy. She’s so… amazing, unreal even—like someone plucked a princess straight from a fairy tale and placed her right in front of me. Kind, caring, courteous, beautiful, strong, intelligent, absolutely perfect in every way possible that it almost feels unfair. I might be fated for nothing more than an early grave, but for once, I want to defy fate and entertain the possibility that something good could happen to me. Maybe Minji is the good thing that happened to me, and maybe, just maybe, there is a future where me and her… y’know.

A whole minute passes before I realize that neither of us have stopped staring at each other. Something in my head clicks. I find myself leaning in, inch by inch, closer to Minji’s lips, just like I’ve done many times in my dreams - But this time, it’s real. Her breath dances against my skin, making my cells tingle in anticipation. Something in her expression shifts. Her eyes widen slightly, flickering downwards every so often, but she doesn’t pull away, even after my intentions become crystal clear. She opens her mouth as if to say something, a protest maybe, but no sound comes out except for her shivering breath. My heart pounds in my ears like a warning alarm telling me to stop. “This is a bad idea, Yuno! What are you doing!?” Yet I continue onward until the tension is palpable. So close, I can almost taste it-

The door to the nurse’s office swings open. “Oh good, you’re both awake!”

Minji and I jump to opposite sides of the cot, my face burning hotter than the sun. The nurses waltzes in with another kid sporting a gross vomit stain on his shirt, tossing any kind of sentiment I had mere moments ago out the window. My heart chugs with the force of a speeding bullet train; it’s a miracle I haven’t succumbed to a heart attack by now.

“U-um, I should, um…” Minji stutters frantically, her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. If it’s any consolation, I feel too overwhelmed to look at anywhere except the floor. She hurries out of the nurse’s office without uttering another word.

“What’s up with her?” The nurse asks. I’m too busy freaking out to even register her question properly.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TRY TO DO!?

___________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Oh my god. Oh… my god. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My god. OH. MY. GOD. OMGOMGOMGOMGOGMOMGOMGOMGOMGM-

“Minj? Are you alright?”

I jump in my seat, my gaze flying wildly around me. “H-huh?”

Hanni and Haerin exchange odd glances as they take their seats on either side of me. “Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Hanni asks, her eyebrow raised in concern.

“I-I’m fine, just working on prom stuff like usual.” That’s only somewhat of a lie: after getting permission to excuse myself from the rest of the day’s classes, I came into the student council room with the intent to work on prom stuff to get my mind off of… that. However, I ended up spending the last hours of the school day staring at my blank computer screen while my mind spirals out of control. “Where’s Danielle and Hyein?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Home stuff,” Hanni answers, sliding an iced coffee towards me. “Are you sure you’re fine? You look… shaky.”

“It’s probably just stress, you know how I’ve been lately,” I awkwardly chuckle. Caffeine is probably the last thing that I need right now, yet I take a sip to keep up appearances. Haerin’s cold, analyzing glare seems to notice this.

“Mmm…” She grumbles to herself, her gaze never leaving mine as she takes a notebook from her backpack and starts to scribble in it. Haerin always had a knack for knowing things before they happen, but not even she could’ve possibly known about the nurse’s office… right?

“Ugh, all this talk about prom is making me sick,” Hanni groans. “Spending over $1000 on hair, makeup, a dress, and a limo, all for what? Three hours of some sweaty boy’s hands on my waist? I think I’ll pass.”

“You can think that, but some people wait their entire lives for this one magical night, I just want to make sure everyone has fun,” I reason.

“Pfft, you just want to slow dance with your little boyfriend, Yuno.”

The shock from her words makes me choke on my drink, devolving into a mad coughing fit. “W-what?! N-no I don’t! He’s not my- shut up!” Hanni throws her head back in laughter, clearly amused by my near death experience at her hands.

With how insanely stressful prom preparations have been, the thought of procuring a date to the event never crossed my mind. At this point in the year, most people have found potential dates to take or a close group of friends to go with, with Danielle, Hanni, and I falling into the latter. All this time, I never even thought what prom would be like for myself. I’ve seen it all the time in movies and TV shows: the main character boy asks the hot cheerleader girl to prom, they slow dance together to a popular song fitting of the time, they kiss, credits roll. A simple, predictable formula riddled with a mess of cliches, but one that many dream about for their own special night. But what did I want out of prom? Would he even- Nevermind, I can’t even think clearly about that right now.

Haerin tosses her notebook over to me. “I drew this,” she states.

I peer down at her drawing, growing more confused with each second. It seems to depict some kind of misshapen blob and a… girl? I think? They’re sitting on some kind of bench really close together. Haerin never showed any interest in the arts before this, so why would she be into drawing all of a sudden?

“Um, it’s nice? I think? What is it supposed to be?” I ask.

“It’s you kissing a shadow monster.”

My arm lurches wildly to the side, inadvertently tossing her notebook across the room. Does she know? How does she know!? She wasn’t there, right? Right!?

“That wasn’t very nice, Minj,” Hanni chides, picking the notebook off the ground. “I think it’s very unique and has a lot of character. She even got your ponytail right. Good job, Kitty Kang.” She pats Haerin’s head, bringing a pleased smile out of her, yet her eyes stay glued to me like a predator stalking its prey. I’m starting to wonder if she ever even blinks.

“Sorry, Haerin, I just feel out of it today. It’s a, uh… lovely drawing,” I sigh, resting my head onto my palm.

“Yah, you’re bumming me out, Minj. Let’s do something fun instead of all this prom garbage. Karaoke?” Hanni suggests. They both look at me expectantly, which only makes my answer even more painful.

“I would love to, especially today out of all days, but I have to prepare for a banquet tomorrow.”

“A banquet? You never told us about that. Ooh, can we come?” Hanni pleads, flashing her big eyes and pouty lips.

“I, um… It’s for my family’s business. They said I couldn’t invite anyone, sorry.” Oh god. Lying to my parents is one thing, but lying to my best friends? The people I trust more than anybody in the entire world? My own words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, more bitter than the strongest black coffee. But what am I supposed to tell them? That I invited Yu- him instead of my own closest friends? Even if his presence serves some kind of purpose, I still can’t imagine how they would react if I told them I basically chose a boy over them. No matter how I try to justify it, it still feels wrong.

“Aww,” Hanni pouts. While she’s distracted, I notice Haerin picking up her notebook and pointing at the “shadow monster” in her drawing with a scrutinizing squint. I try to ignore her, keeping a straight face, but it’s becoming more clear that she knows something’s up.

“I’ll make it up to you guys some other time,” I say, gathering my things. “Next time we go to karaoke, I’ll pay for everything, snacks, drinks, whatever, alright?”

“Woo! I won’t say no to that!” Hanni cheers, skipping out of the student council room. I get up to follow her, but a tug on my sleeve stops me. Haerin stares at me blankly, unblinking, for what feels like forever. It’s normally hard to read her, but especially now when my mind has been in a constant whirlwind for the last couple hours, all I can come to are a few thousand anxiety-ridden conclusions. She suddenly moves her hand upwards with the focused intensity of a cat, waving it around before finally landing her index finger on the middle of my forehead.

“U-um, Haerin, what are you-”

“You’re overthinking things. Go with your gut,” she states before putting her notebook back into her bag like nothing ever happened.

“What are you talking about-”

“If you��re not gonna admit it to us, at least admit it to yourself. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, you’re barely floating as it is.” Haerin goes up to the door, stopping to look back at me. “Are you coming with us or not?”

“O-oh, right, yeah.” I can barely process her words as I follow the two of them off campus. What does she mean by “overthinking”? I’m not overthinking, I’m thinking a perfectly healthy amount. I just have a lot on my plate, so there’s a lot I need to think about. That’s not overthinking, that’s just… thinking a lot. I need to be thinking a lot, or else I run the risk of letting a ton of people down. My parents, the entire student body, my friends. Once I get a quiet moment to myself, I’ll be fine. Right? Right?

______________________________________________________________

I kick off my shoes by the front door, ready to land face first into my bed and turn off my brain for a couple hours. Unfortunately, fate has other plans for me.

“Minji! Welcome home, dear!” My mom announces from the living room, her tone a bit too cheerful to not raise any immediate red flags. “How was school?”

I fight back an exhausted sigh. “It was fine, Mother. I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Oh, well don’t go upstairs yet! The Parks are here, come say hello!”

The Parks are what!? My eyes shoot up, scanning the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Park sit on the sofa, offering me kind smiles. But if they’re here, does that mean-

“Minji! Long time no see!” My worst nightmare rounds the corner with my father in tow, laughing like they’re old buddies or something. My skin crawls as he walks towards me with his arm spread out like he’s about to hug me. I wanna run and hide, but I’m too terrified to move. In the end, all I can do is try not to vomit on his shoulder as he wraps me up in an awkward hug.

Is this real? Surely this isn’t real, right? Maybe this is all just some sick nightmare and I’m still sleeping in the nurse’s office. Please let this be just a nightmare.

“Cat got your tongue or something?” He jokes, finally releasing me from his grasp.

“Sunghoon, it’s uh… good to see you.”

Father walks up and clasps his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Sunghoon was just telling me that he’s considering transferring over Evergreen for the rest of the school year. Isn’t that great, Minji?”

“He WHAT!?”

Everyone turns to look at me, shock and concern written all over their faces. “I-I mean what a great surprise! That’s just… so, so, sooo great to hear,” I say through bared teeth. “I have an, uh, important test tomorrow that I need to study for, so I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Why don’t you bring Sunghoon with you, dear?” Mother suggests, oblivious to the fact that she’s slowly destroying my life. “It’ll give you two time to catch up without us adults getting in the way.”

I muster up the most convincing smile I can and say, “S-sure. That would be great. Just… great.”

I stomp up the stairs to my room with Sunghoon in tow, immediately collapsing onto my bed without giving him a second thought.

“Your room is nice,” he says, shutting the door behind him and effectively taking away my only way of escape. Maybe there’s some soft bushes I can land on if I jump out the window. If not, at least death seems more favorable than being stuck in here with the worst human being alive.

“Mhm,” I mutter, half-listening to whatever he has to say.

Sunghoon paces around my room, looking around at my posters and my desk before picking up Mr. Bear from my bed. “I see you’re still into teddy bears,” he chuckles to himself.

“Put that down!” I grab Mr. Bear from his grasp and glare coldly at him, causing him to back off with his hands up.

“Alright, it’s clear that there’s still some bitterness so I might as well just go ahead and address the elephant in the room: I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids. I was an immature little brat and I should’ve treated you better. Will you forgive me?”

That was… surprisingly mature. Did the original Sunghoon die in an accident and got replaced by a nicer clone? Does he have an illegitimate twin brother that replaced him and took his name after Mr. and Mrs. Park realized how much of a gremlin their son is? Any of those explanations seem more plausible than Sunghoon actually maturing.

“Uh… sure, I guess,” I say, still weirded about this sudden revelation. He grins at me, sitting next to me on the bed. “Um, I’m sorry for yelling. It’s been a, uh… long day.”

“No worries, I deserved it.” Jeez, this new understanding side of Sunghoon is so off putting. If he acted like old self, at least that would be predictable. This feels like walking through uncharted territory without so much as a map or even a flashlight.

“Your mother told me that you’re inviting a friend to the banquet tomorrow,” he continues. “Some guy named Yuno. What’s he like?

“He’s…” Oh god, I can’t even think properly about him right now after what happened in the nurse’s office. I still haven’t been able to process my own feelings about it. What was he thinking? What was I thinking? I can’t even remember where my mind was during that whole thing, yet I can remember everything else so vividly; his warm breath dancing against my skin, his kind eyes peering into mine with so much care behind them, his soft lips inching closer and closer-

“Minji? Are you alright?” Sunghoon nudges my shoulder, taking me out of my impromptu trip down memory lane. I sink my face into Mr. Bear’s head, hiding the growing blush on my cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, long day,” I reason. “Um… He’s nice. A little shy, but he means well.”

“Are you sure you two are friends?” He chuckles at me. “It doesn’t seem like you know him very well.”

“We, uh, haven’t been friends very long,” I explain. As weird as it is, Yuno and I have only known each other a couple of days, yet it feels like so much longer than that. Now that I think about it, we’ve run into each other everyday since we met, even on the weekend. For the past three years of attending the same high school, he’s been nothing but a body walking through the hall or the utterance of a name whenever he stirred up trouble, but now, we’re so intertwined in each other’s lives like he’s been there from the start. Without him, I probably would’ve gotten attacked by that drunk man and I never would’ve gotten over my fear of spiders. His presence has become so integral to my life, I can’t imagine him not being there in some way.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks suddenly, glancing at me.

I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think or feel about him. He is a part of my life, but I just… I don’t know. “As a friend, yeah,” I utter, unsure of the words coming out of my own mouth.

He nods, grinning to himself. “Good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Oh, nothing, just, uh… thinking out loud.” He gets up from my bed and walks towards the door. “I’ll let you study for your test now, I’d hate to interfere with your academics. See ya tomorrow, Minji.”

“Yeah, see ya…” He shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Instead of getting up and doing something productive to distract myself, all I can do is lie there and stare at the ceiling, wondering when everything became so complicated.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Yuno, are you okay? You’re blanking out again,” Winter says.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little headache.”

Honestly, I would prefer it if it was just a little headache rather than the fucking tornado that’s been running rampant through my mind. During the entire walk from the school to the convenience store, all I could do was stare at the ground and let my legs blindly follow behind Winter and Yujin. Hell, I barely even noticed we came to the convenience store until just now.

“Shouldn’t you go to the doctor? You don’t look very good,” Yujin says.

“I’ve been through worse.” Both of them still stare at me, unconvinced of my wellbeing. “I’ll feel better after I sleep it off, alright? You guys don’t have to worry about me.”

“How can we not worry about you, you got hurt b-because of me…” Winter’s voice falters as tears begin to well within her eyes.

“Ah jeez. Look, I…” My mind wanders back to what Minji said to me in the nurse’s office before I did… that: But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you.

“I’m sorry. To both of you. I should’ve let you two know what was going on instead of running in alone and letting myself get hurt. It won’t happen again, okay? I’m done fighting,” I say. Both of them look up at me in surprise.

“So no more Super Yuno?” Yujin asks.

“Uh yeah. No more, uh, ‘Super Yuno’.” If there’s a silver lining in any of this, it’s definitely getting rid of that ridiculous nickname.

“Hmm…” Yujin’s gaze falls to the ground in contemplation. “When superheroes in comic books get hurt, they usually have some kind of healing factor or revival ability that helps them get back up no matter how much damage they take. But you…” He looks up at me, his own eyes glossy with sorrow. “...You’re real. You don’t have any superpowers to help you. It was really scary seeing you not wake up, Yuno. I-I don’t… I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore.”

“Me neither,” Winter adds.

The three of us sit in silence with nothing but the crickets and the gentle howl of the passing breeze to let us know the world is still moving. The weight of their words sink deeper into me, making me feel even more guilty for my lack of consideration. Things are different now. I can’t act like I’m still living the same life I was a couple days ago, and frankly, I don’t want to go back to that life of solitude and pain. I need to change for the better. For me. For my dad. For my friends. For Min… For her.

I clap Yujin on the back, ruffling his hair. “You guys won’t have to see me get hurt anymore, alright? I really am done fighting.”

Winter smiles at me, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Yujin chuckles.

My lips form into a grin, a feeling I’m starting to get used to. “But if anyone messes with either of you, I don’t mind coming out of retirement for a little bit.”

The sounds of their laughter float with the wind, carried wherever fate takes them. I always viewed fate as cruel and unyielding, rendering our sense of choice to nothing but dust. But every once in a while, it’ll surprise me with something new, not necessarily good or bad, just different. This, however, is good. Unequivocally good. It can be convoluted and annoying at times, but still good.

“How’s the student council president?” Winter asks, making my shoulders tense up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she looked really worried about you. Danielle told me that she’s never seen her act like that before,” Yujin says.

My gaze drifts to the side, unable to meet their eyes. “U-uh, she’s fine. We talked. We’re, uh, cool.” I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now after I did all that. What am I supposed to say to her? Do I just pretend like nothing happened? That I didn’t just try to kiss her? OUT OF NOWHERE? I clutch my head as I devolve into another tumultuous storm of uncertainty and anxiety. I need to get this feeling out of me. I need to… I…

“I almost kissed her,” I blurt out. Winter and Yujin’s jaws drop in utter shock at my confession. My entire face burns with shame, but my soul feels lighter now that I finally acknowledged it.

“Uh, what do you mean almost?” Winter asks after several seconds of stunned silence.

“I-I, uh… Fuck…” I inhale deeply, steadying my breath. “We were just talking and then suddenly her face was really close and I kinda just… leaned in… uh…” The more I blabber, the warmer my entire body feels, yet going back and reliving that moment so clearly feels oddly nice in a way. Instead of it being a dream, it was real. I almost got to see what happens at the end of that dream instead of waking up in my bed.

Both of them lean in with amused smirks, completely intrigued by my stupid little accident. “Do you like her?” Winter asks.

“Y-yeah, I do. A lot.”

“Aw, look at him, he’s blushing,” Yujin teases.

I turn my head, hiding my face into my hands. “Sh-shut up…”

“I think it’s very cute that you have a crush on her. Minji seems like a really nice girl,” Winter says, amused. “Are you gonna ask her out to prom?”

“I, uh… I don’t know.”

“Why not? I think you should go for it if you really like her.”

“I don’t know how she feels about me. I mean, I know she thinks of us as friends, but more than that…” I sigh, my shoulders slumping towards the ground. “Minji has a lot going for her, and I’m just me.”

“How did she react when you almost kissed her?” Yujin asks.

“She, uh… She ran out of the room in a panic.”

Both of them turn to each other in contemplation. “Well, that could mean anything,” Winter says. “Regardless of what you think she feels, you should ask her out or else you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life. I didn’t think Karina would ever like me, but look where we’re at now.”

“Yeah, Yuno!” Yujin adds. “We’ll even help you with your promposal! I can make posters and-”

“N-no!” I interject. “No posters. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already know what people think of me, so to put that kind of attention on her would be cruel.”

Amused smirks grow on their faces as they exchange knowing glances at each other. “That was really sweet, Yuno,” Winter says, gushing.

On second thought, maybe it’s better if I didn’t tell them all of this; God knows I won’t hear the end of it for the next week. But as I look at the sincerity in their smiles, a warm feeling stirs within me. Maybe it’s better I did.

______________________________________________________________

My hand rests on the doorknob of my home, frozen by the impending dread of having to come clean and explain the sudden influx of cuts and bruises marking my body. If he’s going to be in my life again, he’ll have to deal with the fact that I made and will continue to make really shitty mistakes. I just hope I’m able to learn from them every once in a while.

With a deep breath, I enter my home to find him sitting alone at the dining table, his leg bouncing restlessly as he stares blankly at nothing. All the lights in the house are off, save for the single one floating right above him, creating an ominous tension that blasts me from the doorway.

“Uh, hey, Dad.”

“Yuno!” I expected anger, disappointment, maybe even disgust, but instead I’m met with relief as he walks over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Your principal called me earlier, I was worried sick about you. Are you okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I thought I would get tired of reiterating for the umpteenth time that I’m fine, but having people around me that care enough to worry gives me this tingling feeling in my chest. It feels… nice, actually.

“Are you getting bullied at school?” He asks worriedly.

“No, it’s nothing like that. It was just a stupid fight.” Some could argue that I’m the bully at the school, and maybe they’re right, but at least I pick on people that deserve it instead of defenseless underclassmen.

“Do you need me to take you to the hospital or something?”

“I’m fine, I’ve been through worse. Just need a little rest,” I say. He begins to speak, but stops and sighs instead.

“Alright. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” I nod. “I trust you know how to take care of yourself by now, but I’m always gonna be here if you need me.” He walks over to the kitchen and pours himself a cup of water, but instead stares pensively at it, watching his reflection in the cup.

“Actually, I could use a ride after school tomorrow,” I say. “I was, uh, invited to a banquet.”

He looks up from the cup, his brow raised in curiosity. “Really? What for?”

“Minji - the girl you met at the mall - she invited me,” I explain.

My dad smirks, finally showing a positive emotion for the first time since I got home. “Sure thing, I can drive you.”

“Thanks, dad.” I grin at him before heading upstairs to my room.

The easy parts are over. I apologized to Winter and Yujin, and accidentally let my feelings for Minji slip out. I talked to my dad and he seemed to take things better than I thought he would. Now there’s just one person left I have to talk to, arguably the most important I need to talk to: Minji.

I stare at my phone, my eyes rereading our previous texts over and over again. Should I call her? What would I even say? Even texting her seems like an impossible feat at this point. After she freaked out and ran out of the nurse’s office, I’ve been struggling to think of how I should address the incident. Hell, I’ve been struggling on how I should feel about it myself. I did, technically, want it to happen, but couldn’t I have chosen a more opportune moment to do it? Y’know, like after knowing for sure what she feels about me? God, I’m a fucking idiot.

To add salt to the wound, I end up going for the coward’s way out, typing up a message that avoids the issue entirely because acting like everything is fine is surely the best course of action.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Feelings are so exhausting.

______________________________________________________________

Compared to how “eventful” yesterday was, Tuesday went by in the blink of an eye. The weird stares were still there, even more so thanks to my injuries, and Tyler’s group of friends in English class seemed to be down a couple of guys. Not my problem, less trouble for me and it’s not like I even hit any of them. Minji never responded to the text I sent last night. To make matters worse, every time I saw her in the hallway, she avoided eye contact completely and ran the opposite direction. If she told me that what I did was disgusting and to never talk to her again, I would at least understand, but to avoid me completely when I’m literally going to a banquet with her feels like cruel and unusual punishment.

I sigh, banging my head into my locker. Not the greatest decision given my condition, but I don’t give a shit anymore. I just want the girl I like to talk to me.

“Is she still avoiding you?” Winter asks from next to me.

“Yeah,” I utter sadly. “Maybe I messed up. Maybe she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Yujin pats my shoulder in support. “Don’t worry about it, Yuno, you’ll get a chance to talk to her eventually. Didn’t you say you were going to that banquet with her tonight? You can talk to her then!”

“She hasn’t even given me the address, how am I supposed to get there?” I reason. “Maybe this is her way of telling me not to come.”

Winter and Yujin exchange worried glances while I lean against my locker, thinking about everything and nothing. Is this what it feels like to have something good ripped away from you all of a sudden? It sucks. It fucking sucks. Part of me wishes I never met Minji in the first place just so I never have to feel like this.

Just then, Minji’s tall friend walks past, offering a polite wave. What’s her name again? It starts with an H… Not Hanni… Harry… Halsey… Hyemi…

“Hyein!” I call out, rushing over to her.

“Hello, Minji’s friend!” She says. “What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Minji at all today?”

“Of course I have!” She smiles like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Why?”

“Has she, um, said anything about me?” I may sound feeble and desperate, but that’s because I am. If Minji hates my guts, then I need to know, or else I’m gonna be walking around like a hopeless idiot.

“Hmm… No, I don’t think she’s said anything about you.”

“Oh…” I hang my head, completely dejected. Not only did I get any new information, but now her friends are gonna think I’m a weirdo. “Well, next time you see her, can you ask her to check her texts? She hasn’t given me a response yet.”

“Why can’t you tell her yourself? Did something happen between you two?” Hyein squints at me.

“N-no! I mean…” You tried to kiss her, you dumbass. “...maybe. I don’t know. Can you tell her that I want to talk? Please.”

“Hmm…” She studies my expression with an intense glare. “Okay, but I can’t promise anything. Whatever you did must’ve upset her a lot if she’s not talking to you all of a sudden.” I sigh, feeling my heart being ripped out of my chest. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks.” With my gaze fixed on the ground, I trudge back to my locker where Winter and Yujin are waiting. I wanna bash my head into the metal door so I can stop feeling like this, but I can’t even muster up the energy to do that. If only I didn’t catch a stupid crush on her.

A stupid, hopeless, foolish crush.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. I feel like a robot running through a constant cycle to maintain peak productivity. I’ve accomplished so much in the day that I don’t even have time to think about anything else. With prom slowly approaching, my continuous cycle of work will eventually pay off and everyone will finally be happy.

The door to the student council room clicks open, but I don’t even flinch. Eyes are glued to the screen, typing up emails and researching venues until calluses form on my fingers.

“Uh, Minji?” I hear Danielle’s voice ask. “What are you doing in here with the lights off?”

Oh right. The lights are off. I didn’t even notice. The bluelight from my laptop has burned itself into my retinas. Even when I blink, all I see is the screen.

“Just working,” I mutter.

“Hey, girl,” Hanni says, concern laced in her tone. “We got you an iced coffee if you want it.”

“Thanks.” I take a sip, the caffeine having an immediate effect on me like adding coal to the furnace of a speeding steam train. Email sent. New tab opened up. Check notification. Look at potential venues. Don’t think. Just work.

A hand slams my laptop shut. “Hey! What are you-” I look up for the first time to see all of my friends looking down at me with worry all over their faces.

“I told you keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy,” Haerin states, her hand holding my laptop closed.

“W-what are you talking about?” I ask, annoyed. “Can’t you see I’m trying to work!?”

“Minj, look at yourself! This isn’t just stress anymore, you look like a zombie!” Hanni exclaims.

I scoff, rubbing my hands over my face. “I’m fine, I’m just working on prom like usual. Haerin, give me back my-” I reach for my laptop, but Haerin snatches it away. “Haerin, what are you doing!? I’m in the middle of something important!”

“Minji, what is going on with you?” Danielle asks in a calm yet concerned tone. “You’ve been acting weird ever since yesterday.”

I feel like my head is about to explode. What are they not understanding!? Of course I’m going to be mad, they just took away my laptop! If anything, they’re acting weird! “I told you guys, I’m fine-”

“Is this about what happened between you and Yuno?” Hyein asks from the corner of the room. My gaze shoots towards her. Her hands are trembling by her sides like leaves in a heavy storm, barely holding onto the branch they’re a part of. Tears threaten to burst from her eyes. She’s scared, terrified. Of me.

My legs give out from underneath me as my vision becomes blurry with tears. A blanket of warmth covers me as the girls hold me in their gentle embrace. I don’t deserve them. I’ve been lying and keeping secrets from them, and now I yelled at them. All for what? A boy? Have I lost sight of what really matters in my life just because I think I have feelings for someone?

It takes a while for me to come down from the overwhelming wave of emotions. By the time my tears stop, I find myself surrounded by my friends’ caring gazes. The four people I trust most in the world, but also the ones I need to apologize to.

“I-I’m sorry guys,” I begin. “I know I said I’ve been stressed, but that doesn’t excuse my outburst. You guys don’t deserve to be yelled at like that.”

Hanni tenderly brushes my hair with her fingers, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Minj, we know you didn’t mean it. We’re just really worried about you.”

“Yeah,” Danielle adds. “It’s clear that this isn’t just about prom anymore.”

“What did Yuno do to you?” Hyein asks.

“He didn’t, um…” I take a deep breath, steadying my heartbeat. “When he got into that fight yesterday, it really scared me. Seeing him pass out like that, I thought he was d… gone. It felt like I couldn’t breathe properly until I knew he was alright. All I could think about was ‘Why did this have to happen to him? It’s so unfair. He doesn’t deserve this at all’. When Yuno finally woke up, it was like… everything felt right again. I was so relieved. And then I looked into his eyes and thought ‘I never want to see you get hurt again’. And I…” My cheeks start to burn as my voice falters. The girls begin to stare at me with intrigue, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“I-I… I almost kissed him.”

The room fills with collective gasps as each of them freeze in shock. I bury my face into Hanni’s shoulder, each passing second of silence making me feel even more embarrassed.

“W-what do you mean almost?” Danielle asks, the most disturbed out of the four of them.

“The nurse came in before we could, uh… finish,” I say, my voice muffled by Hanni’s shirt.

“OH. MY. GOD.” Hanni squeals. “Girl, tell us everything! Who initiated? What did he say to you? Did he go right or left-” Haerin clasps her hand over Hanni’s mouth, shaking her head disapprovingly. Thank god, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve taken her questions.

“Is that why you were avoiding him all day?” Hyein asks. I sigh, nodding sadly.

“Every time I saw him, I panicked and ran away like an idiot,” I admit. “I don’t know what to think or how to feel.”

“Do you like him?”

I stare at the ground in contemplation, thinking about the past few days with Yuno. Despite what others think of him, he’s proven himself to be kind hearted and loyal, oftentimes putting his friends above his own well being. He’s saved me countless times, never once asking for any sort of recompense, and he’s shown that he’s willing to change for the better, even if it might go against his own ideas of justice. Yuno is a good guy, a great friend, and…

“Yeah,” I nod. “I think I do like him.”

“You think?” Danielle asks, unconvinced.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a crush on anybody before.”

“Minj, that is so cute!” Hanni chimes. “You should ask him to prom!”

“Shouldn’t he ask me…?”

Haerin shakes her head. “It’s 2024, subjecting yourself to outdated ideals will only leave you disappointed. Get with the times, grandma.”

I side-eye her, grimacing at her insult. “Whatever. I don’t even know if he feels the same and I’d rather not do something drastic to ruin our friendship.”

“But you’ll never know if you don’t try,’ Hanni says. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t tell him how you feel.”

“I know, but I can’t just rush into something like this without thinking first,” I argue. “Besides, I’m busy with a thousand things right now, I don’t even think I have time for a relationship.”

Danielle takes my hand in hers, looking me in the eye. “You should do what makes you happy, Minji. I mean, look what happened when you bottled up everything inside and put other people’s feelings above your own. Forget everyone else right now and focus on your own happiness for once.”

“But-”

“No buts,” she snaps. “I can get the other student council members to pick up the slack on prom preparations, so go out, have fun, and date a stupid boy. And if he hurts you, then you have the four of us to fall back on.” The others nod in agreement, smiling brightly at me.

“Thanks, guys.” I quickly clap my hands over my eyes in an attempt to stop another onslaught of tears. “God, I feel like I’m gonna cry again.”

“Aww, you big softie,” Hanni says. “Come here.”

The four of them pull me into a warm group hug that melts all my worries away. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would do without them. These girls are like my own little life raft, keeping me afloat even when I fall overboard.

I take out my phone and send a text that I should have sent ages ago.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Minji: hey :) just wear something nice! the address is 0507 Ador Ln. don’t be late, there’s something i want to talk to you about.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, checking if my outfit is okay for the millionth time. “just wear something nice!” she says, yet the only nice clothes I have are some light blue jeans and the bear sweater that I bought on a whim. I’m not sure if “nice” is how I would describe this outfit, but I don’t exactly have any other alternatives.

I would be lying if I said her text didn’t make my heart feel so much lighter. It doesn’t matter how stupid I look as long as I finally get to clear things up with her. Not being able to talk to her at all for the past day has been complete hell, I wouldn’t wish the feeling on my worst enemy. Yet, a part of me feels downright terrified. What is she gonna say to me? Will we still be friends after this? I’ll have to hold onto this dreadful suspense until I see her, and probably even longer depending on how the banquet goes. Hopefully we can get over this quickly so I can finally breathe normally.

My dad knocks on the bathroom, peeking his head through the open door. “You ready to go?” He asks.

“Yeah, uh…” I pause, awkwardly looking at the ground. “Do I look okay?”

He chuckles at me, patting my shoulder. “You look great. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

I take one last look at myself in the mirror before heading out to the car, my heartbeat ringing in my ears as we head to the banquet.

Naturally, the banquet takes place on the far side of the town where all the rich people live. Grandiose buildings line the streets as opposed to the regular suburban houses I’m used to, larger and shinier than anything I’ve ever seen, their opulence almost blinding under the streetlights. Even my dad looked impressed, staring at all the different houses that we could never dream of affording. All of this only serves as a reminder that I don’t belong in this world and never will. To Minji, this is just another Tuesday for her. I sigh, the pit in my stomach growing deeper and deeper.

The banquet hall sits atop a hill overlooking the town as if it's looking down on everyone else with disgust. As we drive up to the building, the frequency of luxury cars increases, making our car look like garbage on wheels in comparison. The closer we get, the more I’m starting to regret my decision to come along. A few guests are talking outside, dressed in their finest tailored suits and elegant gowns. I look down at the bear on my sweater with shame. I didn’t want to stand out, yet I’m basically wearing a giant sign that says “look at me, I’m an idiot.”

Near the entrance, I spot Minji wearing a stunning black dress that compliments her natural beauty. Simple yet sophisticated… And I’m wearing this god damn bear sweater. Maybe it’s not too late to turn around and go back home. I’ll tell her my body started hurting all of a sudden and I can’t move and-

“Hey,” my dad says, patting my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Go have fun.”

I nod, taking one more deep breath before stepping out of the car. “A-alright. Uh, thanks for giving me a ride.”

He smiles at me. “Of course. Text me when you want to leave and I’ll come right away. Bye, Yuno.” I watch as the car disappears down the hill, leaving me completely stranded with no way of escaping. All I can do is face this head on, like I’ve always done.

With each step I take towards Minji, my heart beat rings louder and louder in my ears. The gnawing insecurity in the pit of my stomach makes it hard to breathe, yet I continue forward towards the impossibly beautiful girl that I’ve fallen completely in love with. Her black hair flows like waves curling from a waterfall, light and airy, as she exudes an air of elegance and grace. If I survived a beating from a group of guys, then I can survive this one night. For her.

“Min-”

“Hey Minji!” A loud voice calls out from behind me. The source of the voice, a tall guy wearing a sophisticated suit, walks over to her and pulls her into a hug. My blood immediately begins to boil with rage. Who the fuck is this guy!?

“You look great! How are you doing?” I hear him ask her.

“U-uh, thanks, I’m fine, um…” Minji spots me, her face lighting up instantly. “Yuno!” I do my best to hide the growing smirk as he looks back at me with bewilderment.

“H-hey. Hi,” I say to her.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she replies, smiling at me. God, I missed that smile. I missed hearing her voice. It’s only been a day, but it feels nice to finally talk to her again.

“Um, hello? Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friend, Minji?” The tall guy says. He must be the one Minji was warning me about, I can already tell he gives off a pompous energy.

“Ah right. Yuno, this is Sunghoon, Sunghoon, this is my friend from school, Yuno,” Minji says.

“What’s up, man?” Sunghoon reaches his hand out towards me, which I nearly shake before realizing I still have the gauze wrapped around my hand. “Oh damn, what happened to your hand? Are you some kind of fighter or something?” He jokes. Minji gives me an apologetic look while I simply shake my head.

“Cooking accident. I’m fine,” I say, lowering my hand.

“That sucks, man, uh…” He looks down at my sweater, his lips widening into an amused smirk. “Cool sweater, man, where’d you get it? Balenciaga? Armani? Target?” he chides, laughing at his own shitty joke. I shoot a glare at him which makes him shut up pretty quickly.

“I’m just joking man, jeez,” he says. “I’m gonna head inside, Minji. I’ll get us a good table.” Sunghoon winks at her before walking off towards the building, leaving me and Minji alone finally.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about him, Yuno,” Minji apologizes.

“It’s fine.” I gaze into her eyes for the first time since arriving, my heart skipping a beat as I got lost in the deep browns of her irises. The stars reflect off of them, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy right in front of me. “U-um, is this sweater okay? I, uh, didn’t really have any nice clothes to wear,” I blabber awkwardly.

“It’s, uh… It’s cute,” she says, her face lighting up as she looks at the bear. “Aw, he’s wearing little overalls. It’s like he’s a little farmer bear.”

I turn my head, quietly giggling to myself. How can someone look so ethereal, yet act so adorable? “Oh right, you said you wanted to talk to me about something,” I say, fixing my expression.

“Oh, um… Uh…” Her gaze nervously shifts side to side as she messes with her fingers. “Can we, uh, talk about that later? My parents are probably waiting for me inside.”

I sigh, disappointed but also understanding. “Okay, that’s fine.”

She offers an apologetic look before leading the way into the building. As we walk through the doors, my jaw hits the floor from utter shock and awe. The banquet hall is a giant room adorned with pillars of flowers and a giant golden chandelier hanging overhead, illuminating the room with a brilliant light. Fancy-looking tables are spread out throughout the room, seating even fancier-looking people, laughing and sipping from skinny glasses of champagne as they talk. The looks I get from school are a little annoying, but bearable enough - They’re all just kids trying not to get into any trouble that I’m usually a part of - but being in this room, looked down upon by these people is a different beast entirely. Instead of being viewed as some scary monster that could act up at any moment, it feels like they’re scorning at me like a rat that wandered into the wrong place. It’s like Minji’s mom times a thousand in here.

“Are you okay, Yuno?” Minji asks, lightly grabbing onto my sleeve with a worried look.

“I-I’m fine,” I assure her. Before she can say anything else, an older man walks up to her, smiling.

“Minji! How are you doing, dear?” He says.

“Hello, Mr. Park! I’m doing well, how are you?” She replies, seamlessly slipping into a more professional tone.

“I’m doing great, of course. It’s great to be doing business with your parents.” He looks towards me, his face subtly shifting into that of disdain. “Who’s your friend here, Minji?”

“This is Yuno, he’s my friend from school.”

“H-hello, sir.” I reach out to shake his hand only to be met with a confused expression as he stares down at my gauze-covered hand. Sheepishly, I retract it, my gaze falling to the ground in embarrassment.

“Right… Well, my wife is probably wondering where I am and I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Mr. Park says, not even glancing at me. “Good bye, Minji.”

I sigh dejectedly as he walks off, both grateful that he’s gone and annoyed at myself for not making a better first impression. “That was… awful,” I mutter.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Minji soothes. “On the bright side, you’ll never have to talk to him again after tonight.”

“I don’t know, Minji, maybe me being here is a mistak-”

“Oh!” She takes an empty glass from one of the tables and hands it to me. “Here, hold this.”

I take it from her, giving her a quizzical look. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Just hold up this glass with your right hand and people won’t shake your hand anymore. Problem solved, right?”

She’s trying so hard for me. What a saint. I truly don’t deserve her. “Yeah, okay,” I nod, mustering up a smile. “Thanks.”

“No proble-”

“Ay, that’s where you guys are!” Sunghoon pops out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around Minji. It’s taking every fiber of my being not to knock his lights out right now. “I was wondering where you two were.”

Minji pushes his arm off of her, side-eyeing him with contempt. “We were just talking,” she states.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a lot of people that would love to get to know Yuno. Isn’t that right, man?” Sunghoon firmly grasps my shoulder, pushing me towards a larger crowd of people culminating in the middle of the room. I could kill him if I want to (and I do want to), but with Minji here, I’m left at the mercy at whatever the hell this rich fuck plans to do. Whatever. I can survive talking to old people for a little bit.

The next hour crawls along as I’m swept through countless bouts of small talk with increasingly important people, constantly bombarded with questions that I don’t have the answer to.

“What are your plans after high school?”

“What university are you thinking of attending?”

“Have you started on your college admission papers?”

Minji and Sunghoon handled everything with ease, accustomed to the talk like they’re fluent in a second language, whereas I was barely floating by. Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. Minji tried her best to help me out, but with an abundance of other people talking to her, her plate was already full as it was.

Finally, after another uncomfortable conversation with a woman that didn’t even try to hide her disapproval, I found myself on the outer rim of the conversation. Minji and Sunghoon were in the middle, keeping everyone distracted, giving me a chance to escape. I spot a door at the edge of the room leading towards the outside. I take one last look at Minji, feeling guilty for leaving her like this, before scurrying out the door.

Fresh air fills my lungs, a luxury I didn’t know I had until now. I scramble over towards the railing, letting myself breath for the first time in what feels like years. Getting another beating would be more favorable compared to the hell that I just went through inside. I don’t know how Minji does that on a regular basis, I could barely get a coherent word out the entire time.

I lean against the railing, watching the full moon float slowly above the town as I ponder whether or not me being here is a good idea. Maybe I should’ve just given Minji a lame excuse and stayed home. Like a dazzling star in the sky, it feels like all I can do is watch her from afar while I’m trapped by the gravity of my own miserable little planet, destined to fade into mediocrity as she illuminates the night sky with her light. A part of me wishes I never offered to walk her home in the rain just so I would never have to feel this pain. But I did and now I’m paying the price for it.

Isn’t it so tragic? To fall for someone that’s so close yet so far?

“There you are.”

The clacking of high heels against the concrete gets louder with each step as Minji walks up next to me. “I was worried you got lost or something. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, not quite meeting her gaze. Minji slumps against the railing next to me, watching the moon.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I invited you here for a selfish reason, and after that backfired, I thought I could salvage it, but all I did was make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey, it’s fi-”

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you all day,” she says, her gaze falling to the ground. “I should’ve just talked to you instead of running away like an idiot.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that she finally acknowledged it. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too, for, um… y’know.” Heat rises to my cheeks as I’m reminded of why we’re in this awkward spot in the first place. If I just kept my urges in check, neither of us would’ve felt like this.

“U-um, it’s okay, that’s partially my fault too anyways,” she says, chuckling nervously. Minji looks up at the moon and inhales deeply. “It’s really pretty tonight.” Something in my head shifts as she utters those words, and I’m suddenly hit with a wave of deja vu as Minji shifts from “The daughter of the founder of a highly esteemed multimillion dollar company” to “The girl who’s afraid of spiders and likes teddy bears and dreams of becoming a singer one day against her parents’ wishes”. The girl that I fell in love with.

I nod in agreement, but all my focus is on Minji, more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. The wind makes her long, black hair float and ebb like a stream of the finest silk, while the Milky Way traps itself in her irises, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy in just her eyes alone. She shivers as another gust of wind floats past, and I contemplate whether or not I should give her my sweater. I’m wearing a tank top underneath, so it’s not like I would be flashing her all of a sudden…

Without anymore hesitation, I take the sweater off my back and hand it to her. “U-uh, here. Y-you seem cold,” I stutter awkwardly.

“O-oh!” Her cheeks turn a bright pink as she eyes my upper body, her gaze flying back and forth. “Thanks, that’s very, um, sweet of you,” she says, wrapping the sweater over her shoulders.

“Y-yeah, no problem…”

We stand there in complete silence, simply watching the moon as the crickets and the wind play their abstract melodies. The breeze may be cold, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth I feel in my heart for Minji. I want to tell her how I feel. I wanna scream it from the top of this hill for everyone to hear. But I can’t. What good would it do, knowing that it won’t work out? I know life has been nothing but cruel to me, but having the person who fills me with nothing but joy be this close to me yet still so far away is this cruelest act it’s committed. I’m cursed to live a life of mediocrity while Minji undoubtedly skyrockets to a space among the stars, a place that I can never hope to reach.

Minji glances at me, scanning the bruises on my arm. Without a single utterance, she gently traces her finger over them, leaving a line of electricity in its wake. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly.

“I’m fine. Like I said, I’ve been through worse,” I say.

She sighs, moving closer to inspect the injuries. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I turn to her, her face much closer than before. “Y’know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “People don’t really talk to me in general. They’ll look at the cuts and the bruises and think that I probably deserve them. And maybe they’re right.”

“Hey,” she lightly chides. “Don’t say that, they’re not right at all.”

“I’m always sticking my neck into situations that I don’t belong in, it’s only natural for me to get hit every once in a while.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean you deserve to get hurt.” The worry in her tone begins to grow with each word.

“I’ve hurt countless people in the past, Minji. There’s literal blood on my hands. To say I don’t deserve some kind of divine punishment would be wrong.”

“O-okay, but-”

“And maybe this is it. This is my punishment.” I look in her eyes, tears slowly welling up within them. “My mother’s dead. My father became an alcoholic. I’m left to survive alone while people look at me like a monster. I constantly get into fights because I’m hard-wired to have this fucked up sense of justice that I have to act on for some reason. A-and…” And you. The greatest punishment of all is meeting you. Because I know that I’m not good enough for you and I never will be. No matter how much I like you, you’re always going to be light years away.

“...My life has been nothing but a punishment, one after another. I deserve to-” “STOP!” Minji shouts, pushing me back a bit. “Just… stop, Yuno. You don’t deserve any of that. When I look at you, all I see is someone that’s been treated unfairly their whole life. You deserve to be happy. I-I mean, look at where you are now! You have friends that care about you, your dad is doing so much better now, and I…” She looks at me with steely determination. Her chest rises and falls with breath, as if she’s made up her mind about something.

And then she kisses me.

Her arms clumsily wrap around my head, pulling me into her lips. It’s rough and messy, yet so sweet and soft. The heat in my chest expands, hitting every cell in my body. I melt into her, placing my hands gently above her waist. All of my feelings for her are contained in my lips, transferring over in a silent exchange. Her lips are everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

Minji pulls away slightly to catch her breath, warm puffs of her dancing against my cheeks. We look into each other’s eyes, not a word spoken but so many things said before going back in for another, this kiss more gentle than the first. She softly cups my cheek, caressing me with her fingers. I pull her in, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible. I want nothing more than to be here in this perfect moment with her forever.

A glass shatters against the concrete, ripping us out of our blissful space. We scramble to get off of each other as Sunghoon stands there, his jaw dropped in shock.

“W-what… What the hell are you two doing?!”

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

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superhaught · 8 months ago

Text

Gym Class Heroes (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: homophobia

Word Count: ~2300, Part 2/?

Part 1

Regina pursues her interest in protecting reader as she recovers from the basketball to the head.

Turns out, you did indeed have a mild concussion from the basketball incident, so you took the weekend and the following Monday off of school to rest and recuperate.

You were napping when your mom knocked lightly on your bedroom door and then came in. You woke up and saw that she had an armful of things.

“One of your school friends stopped by and brought your homework from today plus a card and some snacks, how sweet!”

You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, “one of my friends? Do you know who?”

“Oh I don’t know, sweetheart. She was blonde and tall and pretty.”

You couldn’t help your face from lighting up, “gimme the card!”

Your mom handed you everything and you tore open the envelope. It was a simple “get well soon” card but what you were most interested in was the handwritten note. The writer’s penmanship was exquisite, not that you were particularly surprised by that fact. The card smelled like her perfume, as if she had spritzed some on. She’s unreal, you thought. Fragrant notes of orange blossom and rose filled your nostrils and it was addictive.

The note read: Hey you, I hope you’re doing okay and aren’t too worried about getting behind on schoolwork. If you need help getting your homework done, I know a guy. Anyways, Shane got three days of suspension, which isn’t enough, imo. Text me if ur bored <3 R

She wrote her phone number at the end. You giggled and reread it in full, going as far as kicking your feet excitedly under your blankets.

“She seems like a sweet girl,” your mom pointed out.

Her voice brought you back to reality. You cleared your throat, “mom, my head is kind of hurting, can I go back to sleep?”

“Oh yeah, of course honey! Get some rest.”

“Thank you,” you set the card down next to you and laid back down as your mom left and once she closed the door behind her, you grabbed your phone and began typing a message to Regina’s number.

“Hey, ‘R’” you wrote.

The message delivered and the little typing-indicator dots showed up right away, then her message back came through, “I’m glad you didn’t keep me waiting ;)” then she sent a second message, “how are you feeling?”

Being stunned, you didn’t respond to Regina’s text right away. Your heart was pounding. You couldn’t believe that Regina, the queen bee of the school, the most popular girl, the previously-believed-to-be-completely-and-totally-straight-girl, was asking you out.

Another text from her popped up, “well don’t leave me hanging”

You decided that you wanted to call her. Maybe you felt like you needed to in order to confirm that this was actually real. You called and it rang twice and then you heard her voice through the phone.

She chuckled as she spoke, “hi…”

“Hi…” you said back, suddenly forgetting what words were.

“What did you want to say that couldn’t have been sent over text?”

“I just… you really want to date me?”

“Yes. I do. Is that really so shocking?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well listen, I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. And, as I’m sure you are aware, I’m used to getting what I want.”

You shuddered and then replied, “Regina… I’d love to go out with you.”

The two of you continued to talk on the phone well into the night. It was Regina who insisted that you hang up and go to bed to get some good sleep before coming to school tomorrow. The blonde also offered to pick you up in the morning and drive you to school herself. You, of course, accepted.

You went to sleep feeling lighter than air.

In the morning, you got ready for school with more zeal than you ever had in your life. Your mother wondered out loud whether you had been replaced overnight by an entirely different person. You just smiled and said that you were happy and feeling better.

There was a car horn honk from your driveway and your mom kissed your cheek goodbye as you left your home.

Regina was sitting in her black Jeep, using her mirror to fix her hair. She smiled at you as you came out of your house and approached the passenger side of her car. She leaned and reached over, cracking the door open for you and then offering you her hand to hold as you stepped up into the car.

You sat down and tossed your backpack into the backseat.

She smiled again, looking you over, “you look so cute!” Regina then gently caressed her thumb over the bruise on your forehead from the basketball, “and this is looking much better.”

You looked her up and down as well and smiled, “you look incredible…”

“Thanks, baby.”

She had called you ‘baby’ on the phone the night before as well. The affection made your heart flutter.

She continued, “get buckled, let’s go.”

Regina drove you both to school and parked in her spot in the student lot. It wasn’t an assigned parking spot or anything, it was just the closest spot to her preferred entrance and it was hers by way of having scolded anyone who had ever dared to park there.

When you got out of the car, Regina walked over to you and took your hand in hers.

Surprised, you said, “you know, we haven’t actually gone out yet…”

“I know that. Do you mind if I hold your hand anyway? Do I have to wait before I can show you off?”

“I don’t mind,” you smiled.

Regina walked you into the school and immediately, all eyes were on the two of you. You half expected Regina to drop your hand but she didn’t. You glanced over at her and she was proud. Beaming even.

She squeezed your hand a little tighter and looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded your head, “I am.”

Regina went with you to your locker and leaned against the adjacent locker while you put your backpack away. Then Regina noticed that you had a small magnetic mirror in your locker and she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around you from behind and looked into the mirror.

“We look good together, don’t we?”

You looked at the image in the mirror and thought she was right. With her bright blonde locks draped over your shoulders, her manicured fingers touching your neck, her cheek pressed against yours, it was a dream come true.

“It’s way too easy for me to get lost in you…”

“I feel the same way, baby.”

At that point, Gretchen and Karen approached, locating Regina as if they had a homing beacon to her. Gretchen flashed you a polite smile and said, “you look mostly recovered!”

Karen stared at you with wide eyes and said, “don’t worry, I’ve been knocked out by a basketball too! It happens to everyone.”

You thought about objecting to her statement in some way but then you just nodded.

Regina grabbed your hand again and touched your cheek, turning you to face her, “you’ll sit with us at lunch, right?”

“Oh sure! If you want me to…”

“Of course, silly! Well, you know where to find me, then. I’ll see you later.” Regina pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly against her chest. And for the first time in your life, you felt genuinely wanted.

The next two days went by fast. Regina took over driving you to and from school and your mom thanked her profusely for giving her a break. You joined Regina, Gretchen and Karen for lunch, sometimes you were also joined by Cady, Janis and Damien, now that things had gotten less tense between those two trios in the aftermath of the junior year dramatics.

Regina was extremely attentive to you. You naturally fell into habits of taking care of each other, Regina looking out for you as you continued to recover from your concussion, and you paying attention to her chronic pain flare ups and making sure she was monitoring her POTS symptoms.

You and Regina agreed to go on your first official date together that weekend, but she certainly was not hesitating to claim you as hers in the meantime. In those 48 hours, there was already an instagram and twitter account dedicated to shipping the two of you and you overheard a lot of talk about your sudden closeness and Regina’s obvious protection over you.

It all came to a head the day that Shane Oman was back at school.

At lunch, Regina showed up to the table a few minutes later than what was typical for her, and she was dragging Shane by his shirtsleeve until she shoved him right in front of you.

You set your lunch down and looked at him, then Regina, who shoved him again and said, “well, go ahead.”

Shane rolled his eyes, “fine… I’m sorry…”

Regina’s arms were crossed but she smirked a little, clearly proud of herself.

“Sorry that you’re a disgusting fucking carpetmuncher!” Shane finished, yelling loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear and immediately cease their conversations, turning all of their attention to your table.

Gretchen covered her own mouth in shock. Janis and Damien's jaws both dropped open. Karen was staring at something on the ceiling. Cady whispered “oh my gosh” under her breath.

You just froze and stared.

Regina lurched forward and gripped the back of Shane’s shirt collar, pulling him backwards by it in a swift motion and basically choking him with the fabric, “what the fuck did you just say?” she growled.

Shane coughed, “I… I… said… carpetmuncher… and I’m not sorry… and I don’t believe for one second… that you’re falling for this… this… dyke!”

“Oh? You don’t?” Regina pushed Shane down to the ground and he collapsed to his knees and rubbed his neck as Regina let him go. Regina walked over to you and took your face in her hands. One second, her face was red with fury, but when she looked down at you, she immediately softened. She pulled you close to her and then pressed her lips to yours.

It wasn’t how you imagined how your first kiss with Regina would have gone, but you wouldn’t have changed anything about it.

She kissed you so tenderly. Your senses were completely overwhelmed by the softness of her lips, the taste of her lip gloss, the smell of her hair, the feel of her tongue just teasing your bottom lip. Regina held the kiss for a long time and you held her waist.

You knew everyone’s eyes (and cameras) were on you, but you couldn’t have cared less. You had Regina, and that’s all that mattered.

When Regina pulled away, she kept eye contact with you for a moment and smiled, assuring you that she kissed you because she wanted to, not just to prove a point. She came back to give you one more quick and gentle kiss before returning her attention to the pathetic man on the ground.

“Next time you want to say anything derogatory to my baby here, you better be fucking prepared to say it to me, too, Shane. And I don’t think I need to spell out the absolute shithole you will find yourself in if you do that.”

Shane stared at her with wide, terrified, eyes.

“Now get the fuck out of my sight.” Regina added.

Shane scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of the cafeteria as Regina took her seat next to you with closed eyes and exhaled a breath through her nose to calm herself.

You leaned your head on her shoulder and whispered, “thank you, Gina.”

She turned her head and kissed your temple, “of course, baby.”

#regina george #regina x reader #regina george x reader #regina george fanfic #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #regina george renee rapp #reneé rapp #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #gym class heroes

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 month ago

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a/n: hey there! i never actually planned on writing a sequel to ‘9 pm’ but a few anons asked about it and i liked the idea of giving them some happiness following that fic! the perfect title gave me the idea for the fic and here we are ☺️ i hope you guys enjoy!!

word count: 2.8k

tw: brief and minor mention of a miscarriage, pregnancy

direct sequel to 9 p.m. in vancouver

summary: andrei’s off on a road trip and you’re more exhausted than normal. once you realize why, you have to call andrei immediately

It’s barely ten at night and you’re falling asleep on the couch, Friends rerun playing at a low volume on the TV. Your blinks get longer, eyelids heavy, while Joey yells about the Coast Guard.

A yawn creaks at your jaw and you try to blink away some of the sudden exhaustion in your body. It doesn’t really work, another yawn catching you a few minutes later. You wrap your arms around one of the throw pillows, cheek smashed up against the pillow tucked under your head.

It’s been a long few days, work overwhelming you and Andrei up in the tri-state area for a mini road trip. The Canes had lost to the Flyers before beating the Devils. They’re currently up two goals on the Rangers, according to your NHL app updates, with just a few minutes left in the third.

The team will spend the night in the city before heading to Long Island for the second half of a back to back tomorrow.

It’s a grueling schedule so early in the season, four games in six days, and you know Andrei will be exhausted when he gets home on Monday morning. At least they’re off for two days before hitting the ice for a home game on Wednesday. You yawn again and decide vaguely that maybe you’ll go to the game, if you can keep your eyes open. It’s been a while since you went to the arena and you miss watching Andrei play live.

You can’t help but think briefly about the game in Vancouver last November, almost a year ago now, and your hand drifts to your stomach.

The baby would’ve been four months old, probably keeping you wide awake right now.

You don’t really think about the loss as much anymore, you can go long stretches of time without thinking about him - because you’d decided that it was a boy, even though it was too early to ever tell. Your due date had come around at the end of July and Andrei had spirited you out of the country, the both of you quiet and moody for a few days.

And then training camp had started and you’d gotten busy with work and then the season started and you didn’t dwell on the loss for a while.

But now it’s late and you’re tired and you haven’t seen Andrei in a few days and you should be cuddling a baby right now.

A few tears trickle down your temple and you swipe at them, emotion clogging your throat.

“God, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head slightly. It’s not even like you’re on your period to be so hormonal right now. Your brain takes a second to process the thought and when it does, your eyes widen and you kick your legs out, struggling with the blanket to try and sit up.

“Oh, oh my god,” you scramble for your phone, tossing blankets around until you hear the tell-tale thunk of the phone hitting the floor. You lunge for it, the TV remote going flying, but you barely pay attention to that as your fingers wrap around the loop on the back of your phone case and snatch it off the floor.

Your hands shake violently as you unlock your phone and thumb over to find your period tracker app. The app takes seconds to load, seconds where your heart beats wildly and your vision goes a little blurry. You mutter, “come on, faster, faster,” under your breath and suddenly the screen loads and there in the center of the screen, in bold font, is the notice that your period has been late for more than thirty days.

You’ve missed two periods.

Without even realizing it.

To be fair to yourself, after the miscarriage, everything was thrown off and you’ve only had seven or eight periods in the past year. So it’s not totally crazy that you didn’t realize you missed two cycles.

Your stomach lurches a little bit and you chew at your lower lip. You probably should take a test. But do you want to know without Andrei, again?

It didn’t work out so well last time.

You’re probably not even pregnant, you rationalize, it’s the stress of a new season starting and your body getting back to normal.

Never mind the fact that you’ve long been cleared to get pregnant again and your gynaecologist hadn’t said anything was wrong at your last appointment.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, nearly scaring the shit out of you. It’s just a notification from the NHL app - sometime in the last few minutes, while you’d been spiralling, the Rangers had tied the game and it was going to overtime.

Overtime anxiety is better than maybe-pregnant anxiety, so you tune into Bally, the sudden brightness of the glare off the ice making you blink. You’re half-heartedly paying attention, fingers tapping against your thigh while the players zip up and down the ice, trading scoring chances. Andrei’s on the ice for a shift and then he’s back on the bench. Pyotr makes a save and then another and then he doesn’t.

You frown at the TV, watching Andrei and the guys file off the ice, miserable for the team’s loss. You change the channel back to Nick at Nite, not interested in seeing the post-game analysis of the loss.

The audience laughter from the show echoes around the living room and you chew at your lower lip anxiously. Andrei won’t be back to his hotel room for hours, the post-game process already underway, but between media, a shower, and the travel. Well, it’ll be at least close to midnight before you can talk to him.

He’ll reassure you that you’re overthinking, that it’s nothing. But a quiet part of your brain is insistent that you’re pregnant and it just won’t shut up.

The smartest thing would be to take a test, find out once and for all if you’re even going to mention anything to Andrei. You’re pretty sure there’s no tests left after last time and if there are, they’re probably expired.

Your fingers tap at the screen of your phone almost by memory, the Google search showing that there’s a twenty-four hour CVS just a ten minute drive away.

The episode ends and another begins while you sit on that information, giving yourself a moment to imagine what you’ll do if the test is positive. He has to know immediately this time, you don’t think you’d be able to wait.

“Oh fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, pushing the blankets off your legs and getting up from the couch. Your vision goes fuzzy, briefly, the blood rushing from your head. You blink and everything shifts back into focus, your heart hammering a little.

Before you can overthink it, you turn off the TV and head for the front door, making a stop at the front hall closet to grab a jacket. Your fingers close around the sleeve of one of Andrei’s, the jacket dwarfing your frame as you slip your arms into the sleeves. You shove your feet into a ratty pair of Uggs and drop a faded Canes ball cap on your head.

You look insane, more like a college kid doing a walk of shame than a married woman, but Andrei’s scent embedded deep into the collar of his jacket is comforting you.

At CVS, you grab at the pregnancy test boxes like a woman possessed - Clear Blue, First Response, and the CVS generic brand all go into your basket, along with a bag of pumpkin shaped Reese’s Cups and a pack of Twizzlers. Something about the waxy, artificial strawberry ropes seems appealing right now.

Thank God for self-checkout, you don’t think you can face another person right now.

The pregnancy tests feel like they weigh a million pounds in the plastic bag and you gnaw anxiously on a Twizzler as you drive back home.

It’s well after midnight by the time you manage to drink enough water in order to pee on all the sticks and this round is more anxiety producing than when you’d done it over a year ago. Once you’re done, you set the timer on your phone and flip each stick over on the counter, so you can’t see the displays.

Instead of waiting in the bathroom, which is feeling small and stuffy despite how large it actually is, you pace around your bedroom for the few minutes it takes for your timer to count down. You wonder if you could call Andrei now, be on the phone with him when you look at the display, but if you’re not pregnant and he’s on the phone, he’ll be disappointed right before the next set of games. He’s been talking about it a little more lately, in the abstract, how nice it’ll be to have a baby one day. And you maybe haven’t been as enthusiastic as he’s been, so you don’t want to get his hopes up.

If you’re not pregnant, Andrei doesn’t need to know that you worried yourself into a tizzy over nothing.

But if you are? Well, Andrei will be the first call anyway.

The timer goes off on your phone and the sudden, shrill noise makes you jump. Your stomach lurches and you flatten your palm over it. Underneath the anxiety, there’s a little bubble of excitement growing, the thought of a baby providing a little spark of joy.

You wander back into the bathroom and close your eyes before flipping the tests over with shaking hands.

The plastic clatters against the countertop and you squint one eye open and then the other, vision focusing on the little displays.

“Oh!” You gasp, eyes immediately filling with tears, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

All three are positive, the little Clear Blue display declaring you ‘Pregnant’ in tiny letters.

Tears slip down your cheeks and you start giggling wildly, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Your hands press on your stomach, palms flat and fingers splayed.

“Hey there, baby,” you murmur, looking down. “Stay safe in there, okay? We want to meet you.”

The tears fall faster and you wipe at them with your shoulder, a damp splotch forming on the fabric of your sweatshirt. It’s so late, but you need to tell Andrei, and you move on autopilot, climbing onto your bed and finding your phone among the messy covers - the bed hasn’t been made in two days because Andrei is more of a stickler for that than you are and you like to get right back into the nest of blankets at the end of the day. It’s on your list of things to do before he’s back in a few days. Now, you pile yourself into a little cocoon of the blankets and comforters, warm and happy.

You text him first, just a quick ‘you awake?’ that you know he’s going to read as a request for phone sex.

True enough, your phone vibrates in your hand a few seconds later, Andrei’s name at the top of the screen. You grin and slide the bar to answer, “hey there.”

“Is late,” he replies, a faint laugh in his tone. “Thought you would be sleeping.”

“No,” you giggle, feeling a little unhinged. “Not asleep. Couldn’t sleep. Um, are you alone?”

Your husband laughs fully now, the sound echoing over the line. “Solnyshka, been a long day. I love you, but we have early morning,” he teases and the rumble of his voice makes you smile.

“No, not for that you perv,” you shoot back, twisting your fingers in a loose thread. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You know you’re sounding vague and strange, but to his credit, Andrei doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he’s quiet for a second before your phone vibrates against your ear, signalling an incoming text. You pull the phone from your ear and tap over to your messages, laughing when you see the picture Andrei just sent.

The hotel room is nearly pitch black, but you can still make out the shape of Martin Nečas passed out in his bed with what looks like an eye mask covering his face. Andrei’s grinning face is cut off in the corner of the picture.

“Guess that’s a yes then,” you smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.

“Neci has earplugs in too,” Andrei informs you. “Says I snore, which is lie.”

It’s not, but you don’t feel like relitigating that particular point with him right now. So you move on.

“I know I should’ve waited, done something cute, but I’m bursting,” you let the words come out in a rush, feeling lightheaded with excitement. “I couldn’t, I had to tell you right away, Drei, baby, I’m pregnant.”

Andrei’s silent on the other end and a slightly manic laugh bubbles out of your mouth while you wait for him to say something.

“Pregnant?” He repeats, sounding like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach - winded and hoarse. “Like, with baby?”

“Yeah, mhm,” you hum, just letting the news soak in. Andrei’s breathing is audible in your ear, a soft ‘huh’ puffing out.

He starts to laugh and you can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “oh, solnyshka, fuck, I’m… ya chertovski schastliv.”

He slips into Russian and you’re not totally familiar with the words, but he repeats them in English, “I’m so fucking happy. Are you okay? How you feel?”

“I’m okay, I was feeling a little tired earlier,” you say. “That’s kind of why I took the test, just to see.”

Without asking, Andrei switches the call to a FaceTime and you pull the phone back, his grinning face taking up the entire screen. He looks lighter and happier than he has in months and the sight of him, of that smile that you love so much, makes you emotional.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he shakes his head, still smiling. “Hold you, something other than smile like idiot on phone.”

“I’m just happy to see your smile,” you say truthfully. A hug wouldn’t be unwelcome, but just seeing Andrei’s face has you calmer. “It’s late,” you continue, catching sight of the time in the top left corner of your phone - nearly 1:30 in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now and you slump back against the pillows and headboard.

Andrei nods. “Call me when you get up,” he requests, phone bouncing slightly as he shifts on the bed. “We leave early, but call any time, okay?”

“Okay,” you promise, pressing your lips together to smother a yawn. “Hey, I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Andrei replies in Russian, warm and awed. “You and baby, both.”

You’re both quiet for a bit, comfortable and sleepy, reluctant to end the call. You just want to enjoy his long-distance presence and this little bubble, but eventually Martin lets out a snore on his side of the room, startling you since you forgot he was there. Andrei laughs faintly and reluctantly ends the call, after telling you he loves you again.

Now that Andrei knows, your whole body relaxes and you sink happily into the nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in a c-shape, one hand on your stomach.

There’s a million things to figure out in the coming days, weeks, and months, a million worries to ruminate on, but for now, you fall asleep with a smile on your face and pure happiness bubbling in your stomach.

The next morning, you snooze your alarm and allow yourself to wake up slowly and lazily. It’s an easy morning and you don’t plan on getting out of bed until you hear the doorbell ring.

With a grumble, you climb out of bed and shove your feet into a pair of slippers to pad downstairs, wondering who could be at the door this early.

It’s a delivery man, half-hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. You accept it, surprised at the delivery but not at the sender.

The oversized bouquet made up of baby roses, baby’s breath, and a few other types all in various shades of baby pink and baby blue can only be from your husband. Your face hurts from the size of your smile and you dig out the little card from between a pale pinks rose and a light blue hydrangea.

‘I love you, we will celebrate as soon as I am home. A hug and a kiss from New York for you, mama. -A’

It’s not Andrei’s handwriting, but you trace your fingers over the letters and feel tears well up. Any concerns or worries you might have about having a baby are pushed aside.

Andrei’s going to be the best dad and you’re so lucky to be doing this with him.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov fic #nhl fic

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alphabetboyluvr · 5 months ago

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LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying.

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there.

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might.

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers.

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships.

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for.

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #jungkook fluff

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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago

Text

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :)

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison.

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself.

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up.

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen.

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips.

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs.

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission.

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all.

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach.

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness.

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough.

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out.

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry.

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance.

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too.

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first.

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums.

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige.

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes.

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly, scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige.

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence.

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind.

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts.

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it.

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night.

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box.

To her royal highness,

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do.

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours,

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is.

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible.

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand.

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else.

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said.

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender.

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body.

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum.

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips.

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself.

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters.

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK.

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today. From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her.

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments.

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all.

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance.

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm.

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple.

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this.

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference.

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter.

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation.

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige.

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles.

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body.

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly.

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow.

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly.

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now.

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go, really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe.

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk.

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie.

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too.

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out.

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch.

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly.

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself.

“What is?”

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold.

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her.

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple.

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people.

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone.

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone.

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever.

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand.

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone.

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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