#third of all this one girl was walking fun of an older lady student in our class

[averagelonelypotato]

me @ the two girls who keep on acting childish, like their still in highschool in my class, They keep on coming up to me and talking to me like pls i’m too tired to deal with your hyperness, leave me alone

[nixll]

venice for one

pairing : harry styles x reader

summary : after getting broken up with and struggling with your own insecurities, you make the split-second decision to take a solo trip to venice. you expect the week to be a fun-filled adventure, but when you accidentally have a run-in with a famous popstar, things don’t go quite as you expect them to. 

word count : 9.5k

warning : smut, 18+

“you don’t ever do something just because it makes you feel good?”

paris for one by jojo moyes

The moment you step off the train and onto the platform, you feel a sudden urge to turn back around, toss your bags back on the bench you had been seated on, and make the same exact trip you had just taken again, only backwards this time.

Instead, you force your feet to take one step after another, your suitcase dragging noisily behind you against the concrete platform as you lug your tote bag higher up on your shoulder. In your hand is a note scribbled with the name of the bed and breakfast you booked yourself into, and directions written neatly with bullet points, but as you enter the city of Venice, Italy, you know finding the place you’re looking for is going to be much harder than you had first thought.

The city, as gorgeous as it is, is a slightly confusing maze of sidewalks and canals, and there’s people everywhere. The anxiety you had managed to push away when you got off the train is slowly returning as you look at your directions and attempt to find your way.

This trip had been a split-second decision, one made by your irrationally, heartbroken brain only a few hours after your boyfriend had dumped you. The breakup had come as a surprise to you, especially after many of your friends had brought up the idea of marriage after several years together, but your now ex-boyfriend had thought otherwise.

“You’re not the girl I fell in love with,” he had claimed in an uproar as he threw a suitcase together, “you’re not the fun, outgoing person I used to know.”

You had tried arguing against his claims, but it had done no good, and in the end, he had walked out with nothing more than a promise to come back to what had been your shared apartment to get the rest of his stuff over the next few days. When you called your friends to tell them what happened they had done their best to fill your head with encouraging words and stories about how you were still a fun person to be around, but the longer you thought about it, the more you realized your ex was right.

You weren’t the same person he had fallen in love with, and you hadn’t been that person in a long time. In some ways that was okay. You had fallen in love young and where you grew up, he still acted like the immature college student you had met years ago. He partied constantly, going out with friends at all hours of the night, and you honestly don’t remember the last time the two of you hung out somewhere other than the bar down the street. Nice restaurants had never been his thing, and in wanting to make him happy, you had never opted for anything but what he suggested.

You knew he wasn’t happy anymore, and neither were you. You were getting older and concerning yourself with your job and what your future looked like, not when the next time you could go for a cocktail hour was. You had settled into a routine for yourself, one that required no more effort than you needed, and in having that, your now ex-boyfriend decided you were a prude.

After a while, though, you wondered how much of what he had said to you was true. You don’t remember being much of a party girl when you were younger, but you definitely had your moments, and you definitely hadn’t had one of those moments in a long time. You knew if asked what word could describe you the best, adventurous or outgoing wouldn’t be the first word, or second or third to pop into anyone’s head, but maybe you wanted to be those things.

Maybe you wanted a stranger on the street to look at you and wonder what kind of adventures you had been on because just by looking at you, they can tell you know how to have a good time. Maybe you wanted to be that pretty girl in the room, the one that nobody could take their eyes off of.

Five hours after your relationship had ended, you decided you didn’t need your ex, but you did need a change of pace.

You were going to take a trip to Italy by yourself. You hadn’t told anybody, not even your friends, and had only left a brief voicemail to your workplace calling out sick for the rest of the week and no other explanation. It had taken you an hour to book all the tickets needed for travel and to find a place to stay that would take you with such little notice, but in practically no time at all, and with two haphazardly packed bags, you had been on your way to Italy for what you hoped would be a fun adventurous few days.

So far, the idea of a fun filled week had completely escaped your mind and your first day in Italy had started out with a drag.

You had yet to find the Bed & Breakfast you had booked yourself into, and with a sore shoulder from carrying your bag and your hand growing increasingly sweaty as you gripped onto your suitcase, you were beginning to think about what your best bet would be on getting home.

Not a single person you had managed to stop speaks English, and even after you show them the name of the place scribbled at the top of your sheet in Italian, nobody is seemingly able to help you. Venice is not the biggest city, and you remember briefly reading about how it is possible to walk the entire city in the matter of an hour. With a glance at the watch on your wrist, you’re ready to turn around and make your way back to the train station in the hopes of catching a ride back.

That’s when you spot it: the barely-there sign with a name on it that matches the one on your paper.

Vera Ospitalità.

It’s a cute little blue building, looking exactly like it did when you were Googling places to stay in Venice. It hadn’t cost very much, and the lady had sounded sweet over the phone when you asked how soon she would have a room open.

“We always have a room open, cara.”

You hadn’t quite understood what she meant at the time, but the sight of those two Italian words fill your body with a jittery joy as you let out a shout, catching the attention of a few people walking past you. You pay them no mind as you pick up the pace, not taking your eyes off the sign until you’re standing in front of the door and pushing it open.

The bell above lets out a delightful jingle as you walk in. You can only imagine what you look like to the lady sitting at the desk as you walk in with sweat dripping down your forehead and a slightly rumpled paper stuffed in your hand, but she offers you a cheerful smile.

“Are you Irene?” you ask, slightly out of breath as you step up to the desk, letting your bag fall from your shoulder. “We talked on the phone yesterday.”

“Yes! Hello, cara,” Irene says, standing from her seat and reaching for the guestbook she keeps under the counter. “I am happy to see you made it. How was your trip?”

You smile, trying not to think about the want to turn back around and head home you felt only minutes ago. “It was good! Happy to finally be here.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Just sign these forms and I will get you your key.” Irene pushes the book your way and you easily sign your name on the dotted line. “There is only one bathroom upstairs, but you get the room directly across from it.”

Your head snaps up from the book. “One bathroom?”

“Yes,” Irene nods, “but it has a tub, and the water runs perfectly. And there is only one other guest staying here this week, so there should be no trouble.”

“There’s only two of us here?”

Irene pauses. “You ask many questions.”

You offer a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“There is a young man staying here also, about your age. I only have four rooms and I don’t get many guests.”

You briefly wonder if you should have chosen a slightly more expensive place to stay, but your expectations hadn’t been very high coming in and how bad can it be when there are only two of you staying?

Irene hands over your key, directing you up the stairs to where your room waits for you. “Breakfast is served at 7 if you would like some, otherwise I have a list of places around the city you can visit.”

You give Irene one last thank you before you’re heading up the stairs, your suitcase and bag in hand. Your room is immediately at the top to your right, with the door across from yours labeled bagno with a cute little wooden sign. There are two more rooms a little further down the hall, and then one at the very end with the door open enough for you to glance inside.

There’s music playing – something you’ve heard on the radio a million times before but can’t remember the name of – and you can make out the silhouette of someone sitting at a small desk next to a window. With the way the setting sun is shining through, you can’t make out any of the figure’s features, but you know that this is the man Irene mentioned downstairs.

You wave a hand. “Hi.”

You can see him turn his head, but can’t make out any features still, nor an expression, as he stands and shuts the door without a second thought.

You frown, deciding not to dwell on it as you unlock your room and step inside. It’s small, and you know your friends would try and make it sound better by calling it quaint, but you decide that it’s not any more or any less than you need for the week. There’s a small desk and dresser off to the side, and a twin size bed with a side table sitting next to the headboard. The sight of the small, but very neat room is comforting after the mix of emotions you’d spent your afternoon with, and you find yourself wanting to just fall against the comforter and end your day there.

So, you do, quickly changing into your sleep clothes and doing your nightly routine, you let all the anxiety and the interaction with the man down the hall fall from your mind as you slip under the covers and rest your head against the pillow. It’s early, but you figure you’ve had enough adventure for the day. Plus, you still have the next few days left to spend in the city.

Sleep comes easy to you, so easy that you’re shocked awake the next morning at the sound of loud footsteps coming down the hall, and then a slam of a door. Lifting up from your bed, you glance at the clock on the table next to you and let out a small groan. You hadn’t been planning on taking up Irene’s offer of breakfast at 7, but now that you were awake you figured you might as well do exactly that. The grumble your stomach lets out seems to further settle the idea to get ready and go downstairs into your head.

The banging across the hall continues, and you know the sound belongs to the man from down the hall. Not wanting another interaction like the day before you decide to wait for the sound of the door opening and steps retreating down the hall, knowing the man has returned to his own room before you head into the bathroom with your things to get ready. You throw on a simple outfit for the day, doing all your daily necessities. The smell of cologne fills the small space, and normally it would be something that would irritate you – someone else treating a space as only their own with no other thought of anyone else who might occupy it – but the scent is pleasant enough and you decide to leave it be. When you’re done, you listen again for the sound of footsteps, but there are none.

Opening the door, you peak down the hall. The door at the end is shut, but you still cross the space to your room quicker than normal, opening the door and slipping inside. Just as you grab your shoes and anything else you plan to use throughout the day, your phone finding its spot in your pocket, you hear a door open again. You listen quietly as the man moves down the hall to the stairs, only slipping into the hallway when you know you won’t run into him. He’s already disappeared into the front room when you yourself reach the stairs and start the trek down.

When you reach the bottom floor, Irene stands just across the room in what you realize is the dining area. There’s a jingling as the front door opens, and you look over just in time to see a head of dark brown hair escaping through the entrance.

There’s something odd about you and this stranger avoiding each other, but you don’t let it cloud your thoughts. You don’t even know the man, and don’t have any care to get to know him.

Irene spots you lingering by the stairs and waves you over. “Have you met the other guest yet?”

You smile as you walk over to sit at the table situated in the room. The space isn’t very large, only big enough to hold the essentials of a kitchen and a table that seats six, but the feel of it all is very intimate. It also smells terrific, the smell of sausage and pastries filling the room. You’re suddenly grateful that you chose this place over any of the others, weird neighbors be damned.

“He’s nice, is he not?”

You purse your lips as Irene places a plate loaded to the brim with various breakfast items. The sight makes your stomach grumble again and you laugh in an attempt to conceal it. “I haven’t exactly met him yet.”

Irene frowns. “You haven’t?” She tsks. “He’s very friendly, but he never eats breakfast here.”

“Never?” You glance up from your plate. “How long has he been here?”

“Only few days, but he comes once a year and stays here rather than big fancy hotel.”

You nod, taking a bite of the croissant on your plate. You close your eyes giving a small hum of pleasure at the taste of the buttery pastry. “He’s missing out.”

“You’ll meet him soon enough, I think.” Irene waves her hand around as she takes her own seat, carefully digging into her own plate of food.

You continue breakfast with polite conversation. Irene asks why you decided to come to Italy, and you fib your answer a little, explaining it was just a need to get away for a bit. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to reopen the fresh wound that was your current relationship status.

When you’re done, you bid Irene farewell for the day and head out on your own. The sun is warm as it beams down on your face, the air slightly cool from the canals. You plan to just walk around the city for most of the day, not having much else to do until the afternoon when the gallery you had opted to go to opens.

For a few hours you simply meander around the city, stepping into shops with clothes that cost far too much money, but you try them on anyway. You find a nice place for lunch, deciding you’ll come back to try something else for dinner after the gallery. The day all goes fairly quick, but you head back to Vera Ospitalità with a grin permanently etched into your features.

Irene is not at the front desk when you walk in. It’s getting fairly late in the day and after the large and filling meal you had chosen to eat for dinner, you decide that you’ll end your day with a nice bath and then head to bed, excited for the boat ride you had booked for the next day.

That plan is immediately foiled when you climb the stairs and hear the shower already running. You don’t have any idea how long it’s been occupied, but you figure he has to be done sometime soon and choose to wait in your room until he is.

Fifteen minutes pass before you realize it, and the shower is still going. It occurs to you that all of the hot water must be gone now and you feel a bit frustrated at your thought of a nice night being ruined by a man who doesn’t know how to shower quickly. Trying not to let your frustration get the best of you, you snatch up your towel and storm out of your room to stand in front of the door across from you. There’s some steam coming from the crack between the door and the floor, but you ignore it as you knock on the door.

There’s a noise that sounds something like a grunt, and then the shower shuts off. You listen to shuffling, a rumple of clothes, and then the door swings open and there, for the first time since you arrived in the tiny hotel, you finally come face to face with the stranger who’s been living down the hall from your room. It suddenly hits you why he had been so eager to avoid you the day before and ;told you that he must’ve been trying to avoid you this morning too, obviously trying not to make his presence known.

Harry Styles stands in front of you in a pair of loose shorts with a towel hanging from his hand, his hair dripping down onto his forehead. His tattoos are on full display, the pair of ferns peaking up from his waistband, and his skin is glistening from all the water he hadn’t been given the chance to properly wipe off. Steam pours out through the doorway and the sudden heat of it sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t realize you’re staring until your eyes meet his and he cocks a brow. “You’re not going to be a creep and ask me for a photo, are you?”

His tone is dangerous, and he’s got an accusatory look plastered on his face. It makes something in you want to snap back, that anger from not being able to take a bath like you wanted still lingering a bit, but instead you stand there, trying to think of the best words to say back to the man in front of you who clearly thinks you’re here for something other than a nice vacation. Every possible thing you had wanted to say before the door had opened has suddenly disappeared from your brain, only to be replaced with the slight shock of your current situation. Your mouth opens and snaps closed one time, then again, as the words you want to say struggle to fall from your mouth.

Eventually, you hold up your towel.

Harry’s head tilts to the side, his gaze curious. “So, you’re not just renting the crappiest hotel in the entire city in order to get some sort of insider photos?”

You frown, the shakiness you had felt disappearing as you think about Irene and her hospitality. “It’s not a crappy hotel.”

Harry smiles, but you’re sure it’s just because he’s amused and not because you’re doing a nice thing by defending Irene. “No, but it sure isn’t popular and nobody ever comes here. I’m always by myself when I come – Irene makes sure of it.”

You remember what Irene had told your over the phone when you asked about booking.

We always have a room open.

You purse your lips and try holding your head a little higher. “I’m not some crazed fan. I’m just here for a nice vacation.”

Harry looks you over. “Nice vacation? You don’t seem like the type.”

“It…” You stumble over what to say, trying to get a grip on the current situation you’re in with a half-naked famous popstar standing in front of you. He leans against the doorway, an arm propped against his head, and you swallow. “It was spontaneous.”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “You still don’t seem like the type.”

“You don’t know me,” you manage to say, feeling slightly offended by his words, but Harry just grins.

“And I don’t care to.” He claps his hands together, the sound muffled by the towel still gripped in his hand. “Pleasantries aside, I’d appreciate if you didn’t interrupt my shower next time, and also if you continued to not take photos of me whatsoever.”

You open your mouth to reply, but Harry has already pushed himself off the doorway and is marching down the hall before you can even think of what to say back to him. He doesn’t even bother turning back to look at you, just walks into the room and slams the door shut.

You wince at the sound, trying to still get a grip at what just occurred. You step into the still hot bathroom with its steamed-up mirror and slightly wet floor, but you disregard it as you move to the tub. You turn the handle for the hot water and aren’t surprised to find that it’s ice cold. You let it run for a minute, trying to see if it’ll warm up even the slightest, but you give up and shut it off when it remains cold.

You realize that not only had Harry left you with no hot water to take a shower in, but he also hadn’t bothered to ask for your name. When your head hits the pillow minutes later, choosing just to settle in for the night, you let the exhaustion of the day wash over you and fall asleep easily, though the irritation with Harry settles in well into the early morning.

Your alarm goes off early after a couple of hours, waking you up well before you know Harry will be awake. You quickly gather up your clothes and head to the bathroom, turning on the shower and hopping in before another second passes.

You take your time getting ready, lingering under the hot water for as long as you can before getting out and slowly going over each of your tasks in your morning ritual. You’re in the middle of finishing up your hair when there’s a knock on the door.

“Yes?” you call out, already knowing it couldn’t be anybody but your neighbor down the hall.

“It’s Harry,” he says, muffled through the door. It occurs to you that he never actually told you his name the night before, but you know he’s assumed you already knew who he was before. He wouldn’t be entirely wrong in that assumption. “Are you almost done?”

You grin at the turn of events. “Almost.”

It’s another ten minutes before you’re done. You had expected Harry to have turned around and headed back to his own room to wait, something you would have done if you had been in his place, but when you open the door he’s standing there across the hall, leaning against the wall next to your own room. It takes you by surprise, seeing him standing there. He’s already dressed for the day, a nice, knitted shirt on with brown shorts to match and checkered vans decorating his feet. The only thing out of place is his hair, still a mess of curls from where he hadn’t had the chance to comb them down yet.

You offer a smile as you step out of the bathroom. “All yours.”

Harry has a sour expression on his face as you pass by to get into your room. You don’t bother giving him any more attention than that, though, not keen on him accusing you of anything else.

At 7 you head downstairs. Irene is already settled into the kitchen with a plate full of food waiting for you. She smiles when she spots you. “Sleep well?”

You nod. “Finally met Harry.”

“Oh, Harry!” Irene claps her hands together. “Isn’t he so lovely?”

You hum in response. “Lovely,” you try to hide the sarcasm in your voice, “that is definitely the word I would use.”

Irene’s eyes flicker behind you, and she brightens at the sight of Harry coming down the stairs. “There he is! Harry, come have breakfast.”

Harry appears, hair now perfectly in place, walking around the table to greet Irene with a hello and a kiss to her cheek. “Can’t, love. Have places to be.”

“Oh, stay for a bit. It’s too early to have anywhere important to be. Talk with us,” Irene urges, gesturing to you already seated at the table.

You give an exaggerated nod. “Yeah, talk to us, Harry.”

Harry forces a smile onto his face. “Only for a bit, yeah?”

Your frown is immediate as Harry takes the seat across from you. You had remembered what Irene had said the day before, about Harry never joining her for breakfast, and that had led you to expect him to decline Irene’s offer and head out for the day, but now you were stuck with him sitting there in front of you.

“What are the plans for today?” Irene asks, seemingly unaware of the tension at the table.

Harry gives her a genuine smile as he steals a roll from the plate she had placed in the middle of the table and takes a bite. “Goin’ to wander the city a bit, might take a nice boat ride.”

“I’m doing a boat ride too,” you chime in. The look Harry throws you is something similar to a glare, but you just smile, knowing you managed to get under his skin already this morning before he had even tried to touch yours.

The rest of the conversation is tense, with Irene staying blissfully unaware to the dirty looks you and Harry throw at each other. A part of you wonders how you can act like this with a complete stranger, but when you accidentally kick his shin under the table, and Harry returns a swift kick of his own, the thought is completely overshadowed by the irritation you feel when you look at him.

When Harry finishes his roll a few minutes later, he delivers a quick peck to Irene’s cheek and heads out, offering no goodbye to you. When he’s gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and stand from your chair.

“Thank you for breakfast, Irene.” You make to move for the stairs, planning to take a little time to yourself before your planned boat ride later, but Irene stops you.

“He is better once you get used to him,” she tells you.

Your nose crinkles at that, wondering how much she actually had caught on to when it came to you and Harry. “I just think he doesn’t like me very much.”

She waves her hand. “He did not like me very much at first either, but he warms up in time.”

With a final nod, you head upstairs. The hours pass quickly as you find random things to do – playing games on your phone, reading a book. You had briefly wondered about calling your friends back home, curious if they had thought about you since you had last spoke to them, but you eventually decide against it when it’s time to head out for your boat ride.

The air is warm when you step outside, and the place where you’re supposed to go is only just down the block. There’s a delightful breeze that blows through your hair as you walk down the sidewalk, admiring the city as it moves through its daily ventures. You reach the dock you need to go to much easier than you had the Bed & Breakfast, but your stomach immediately drops as soon as you step on the pier.

Harry is standing with who you assume is the skipper of the boat you’ll be on. He has an impatient look on his face and his arms are crossed as he taps his foot against the wooden planks. When he spots you walking down the pier, a look of realization crosses his features.

“You’re going on a boat ride?” he asks, his brows raised above the rim of his sunglasses. “This boat ride?”

You look at the skipper and give a not-so-confident nod.

“Ah! You’re the girl who booked me so late the other day!” he announces almost proudly, and you offer an apologetic smile, choosing to ignore a clearly frustrated Harry.

“I’m so sorry about all that, it was so last minute—”

“Do not worry, darling. It seems to be my fault.” He gestures between you and Harry. “I seem to have made the mistake and made a double booking on accident. Either the two of you may ride the boat together and I’ll give half off, or one of you can leave and I’ll give full refund. I am booked full rest of day.”

You can feel Harry glaring at you through his glasses. “I’m not giving this up,” you tell him, feeling your own irritation grow at the sight of his.

“Well, neither am I.”

The skipper glances between the two of you before giving a delightful shout. “Two of you it will be! Let’s get going.”

You and Harry give the same exasperated look to the skipper, but he’s already climbing on the small speed boat, waving for you to follow.

Harry looks to you. “Ladies first.”

You don’t bother with a thank you as you climb onto the boat, Harry not far behind, and find a seat on the small bench available. With no other place to sit, Harry is forced to sit next to you on the bench clearly fit to hold two people intimately. Neither of you say anything as the skipper starts the engine and pulls away from the pier and into the lagoon you were meant to be traveling.

For a moment, you regret not just walking away and letting Harry have the boat ride to himself. You can’t imagine being able to enjoy it when he won’t even look at you even though his shoulder and thigh are flush against your own as you both attempt to fit on the bench. You still want to make the most of it, so you turn to look at Harry, deciding to attempt to show some of the same hospitality you had been experiencing so much of in Italy

“Do people really stay in the same hotels as you to get photos?”

“What?” His sunglasses have fallen slightly down his nose, and his eyes are visible just over the rim.

You swallow down any frustrating feelings you might have against Harry right now. “Last night, you accused me of being in the B&B so I could get a photo of you—”

“Sorry about that,” Harry mumbles out, pushing his glasses back in place. “Shouldn’t have come at you so quick.”

You can tell that some of the tension has left his body and that makes you feel a bit better about being stuck with him now. “Do people really do that, though?”

You wish he had taken the glasses off now, just so you could see the expression hidden behind them. You can’t tell what he’s thinking with his eyes hidden behind the dark rims.

“I’ve been doing this for over ten years,” he finally says, “I’ve had people break into my home, fans have snuck into my tour bus, and I’ve been chased down the street. You checking into the same place I am staying, a place that is normally empty year-round, and trying to snap a cheeky photo would not surprise me in the slightest.”

You suck in a breath. “I’m not going to do that.”

“I see that now.” Harry smiles as he stands up and leans against the boat, looking out over the water. You look over the design on the back of his shirt, the image of a horse clearly visible. “Sorry for using up all the hot water last night.”

Your eyes flit to the skipper standing at the wheel, but he pays neither of you any attention as he hums to himself. “It’s okay.”

“Also sorry for not asking for your name since you clearly already know mine.” He looks back over his shoulder at you. “So, what is it?”

“What?”

A smile. “Your name, love.”

“Oh.” You give up your name, falling from your lips as you remember the bit of hurt you felt the night before upon realizing he hadn’t asked for it then. It had been a strange feeling, wanting a complete stranger to know your name. especially when you and said stranger hadn’t gotten on so well, but now that he had asked for it you felt a sense of accomplishment.

Harry repeats it, his accent lilting something sweet. “S’a lovely name.”

He’s still looking at you when you say nothing, and it leaves you with a strange feeling. You try to think of what to say next, and when it comes to you, you almost laugh.

You hold out your hand. “Truce?”

The smile Harry gives you takes up the entirety of his face, dimples proudly displayed on his cheeks. He takes your hand in his own, his palm warm in yours. “Truce,” he confirms.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you for the rest of the ride, only interrupted by the sounds of the boat on the water and the skipper’s humming. Even with all your misadventures, you couldn’t deny that the city of Venice was gorgeous. And in some way, everything had seemed to work out for you so far, even creating something that resembled the beginnings of a friendship with Harry after a rough start.

When the boat pulls up to the pier, you realize that you feel more comfortable around Harry. No longer does he intimidate you like he had when you first laid eyes on him, but rather you feel easier with him, like you’re able to strike a conversation with him with no worries at all.

So, you do try to talk to him as you step off the boat, but he apparently had the same thought and the two of you laugh as you talk over each other.

“You first,” you tell him, biting your lip to hide your smile.

“I, uh,” Harry stutters over his words as he removes his glasses, looking up and down the pier to keep his eyes on something other than you. “I was just going to ask if you had eaten lunch already.”

“I think it’s well past lunch time.” You look down at the watch adorning your wrist. “But no, I only ate breakfast.”

Harry’s eyes flash to you, and the green of them is startling under the sunlight. “Would you like to go for a late lunch?”

You much prefer this friendly Harry to the one you had first been introduced to, and you understand that there’s a garner of trust between the two of you now. “I’d love to.”

Harry leads you down the pier and back onto the concrete sidewalks around Venice. It’s settling well into the afternoon, the sun beginning to drift just below the tops of the buildings around the city. You don’t bother asking where you’re heading off to, trusting that Harry will have a great choice in wherever you go.

Eventually, after walking a few blocks, still basking in that comfortable silence from the boat, Harry stops at a door with a sign overhead that you don’t understand. He opens the door and waves you in.

The moment you step inside, you’re hit with the smell of pasta and bread hitting your nose. You breathe it in deep and the hostess at the front smiles as she watches you do so.

“First time?” she asks, her accent thick.

You nod, jumping a little when Harry appears next to you and places his hand on your arm.

“This is one of my favorite places,” he tells you, gesturing with two fingers to the hostess. “They have the best spaghetti.”

The place isn’t as packed as you would expect it to be, most likely because of your arrival between lunch and dinner, but there’s still enough people for it to feel a bit crowded. The hostess walks you over to a booth in the corner, a bit hidden away from the other patrons in the restaurant, and you know it’s because of who you’re with.

The popstar in question sits across from you but doesn’t bother grabbing a menu for himself. “Wine okay with you?”

You nod and wait for the waitress to come over. When she does, offering up her name in a sweet lilting accent, Harry orders the wine and you give a thankful nod as she walks away before turning back to Harry. “So, the spaghetti?”

Harry lets out a low moan. “It’s the best. I come here every time I visit. Practically a regular when I’m in Italy.”

“It’s that good?”

“Better than good.”

You leave your menu resting in front of you, untouched until the waitress returns with a jug of wine and two glasses. She hands one off to each of you before topping them off with the jug.

“Your usual, Mr. Styles?”

The question sends Harry beaming. “Please. And she’ll have the same,” he gestures to you, and you give a soft confirmation.

Once the waitress has left, Harry takes a long sip of his wine before clapping his hands together. “So, what brings you to Italy?”

This Harry sitting in front of you is much different than the one you had met face to face for the first time the night before. There’s something softer about him, as if the edge was taken off the moment he put his hand in yours earlier. You like this Harry more, you think, with his giddy smile and soft giggle.

You remember how you had lied to Irene when she had asked you why you had traveled to Italy, but something tells you not to do that with Harry. “My boyfriend dumped me.”

Harry’s face drops, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but you wave a hand in front of you before he can get it out.

“I’m already over it, but there were some things he said that made me rethink a lot of stuff.”

“Like what?” His gaze is curious, and it makes you want to tell him everything going on in your brain, how you’re still upset and hurt, but want to feel free while you still have the time to here in Italy.

Instead, you sugarcoat it a little. “Just stuff about how he missed the girl I used to be – more fun and care-free.”

“Are you not that girl?”

You shrug, your hand playing with the stem of your wine glass before you lift it to take a sip. “I don’t know, but I liked the sound of being adventurous and doing something unexpected so—”

“So, you booked a trip to Italy?” Harry grins. “That’s quite impressive.”

“What is?”

“Deciding to just up and go to a different country for no other reason than you want to. I think you’re a bit more outgoing than your boyfriend gives you credit for.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Harry smiles into his glass. “Right. Ex-boyfriend.”

Your food arrives not long after that, two giant plates of spaghetti with pieces of garlic bread on the side. Harry laughs at your surprised expression at the sight of the amount of food now sitting in front of you.

“You didn’t tell me we were going to feed an army.”

Harry picks up his fork, stabbing it into the noodles and twisting it around. “Try it.”

You follow his lead, picking up your own fork. When you take a bite of the pasta, you shut your eyes as the taste coats your mouth. “Oh my god.”

“I told you.”

The two of you eat practically in silence, savoring the taste of your meal and not letting the flow of conversation interrupt your eating. Neither of you finish your plate, Harry coming much closer to doing so then you are and you’re left trying to finish the still half full jug of wine in the middle of the table.

You don’t know when you start feeling like telling Harry more about yourself, maybe after your third glass of wine, but eventually you’re telling him all about the fear you had of coming to Italy.

“What do you mean you almost didn’t come here?”

You giggle a little. “I stepped off the train and almost turned right back around to get on.”

“Why?”

You give an exaggerated shrug. “My own brain? I don’t know.” You look down at your glass of wine. “Sometimes I feel like everyone’s opinions of me are right, y’know? Maybe I am that girl that just doesn’t do anything except work and go home.”

“I get that feeling.”

Your eyes shoot up to look at Harry. “You do?”

Harry gives a lazy raise of his shoulders. “Of course. I have reporters and paparazzi up my ass at practically all hours of the day. Sometimes I wish I could scream at them that I’m not everything they think I am, nor do I want to be.”

You let out a snicker and Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I almost forgot I was sitting with a famous popstar.”

Harry groans, but there’s a playful look on his face as he wags a finger at you. “That’s cheeky.”

You decide to keep going, seeing how far you can push it. “My friends are going to love it when I tell them that I got to hang out with the Harry Styles. I’m pretty sure one of them used to have a poster of you in their bedroom.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. Another had the cardboard cutout.”

That sends Harry into a fit of giggles, causing you to follow his lead. You both are a little too tipsy by this point, and the jug is nearly finished.

It doesn’t occur to you how long you had been inside the restaurant until you walk outside and see that the sky has turned dark. The blocks are lit by streetlights, and under them Harry looks like something out of a dream. You don’t mean to lean into him as you walk back to the B&B, but you do so in order to try and keep your balance and Harry doesn’t seem to mind with the way he tosses his arm around your shoulders lazily.

“Tonight was fun,” he tells you, trying not to walk faster than you do. The position is hard to keep as you walk, but neither of you pull away. “’S been a while since I’ve done something with someone like this.”

You smile at his admission. “You mean you don’t go out somewhere with a complete stranger at least once a week?” You tsk. “You’ve gotta get out more, Mr. Styles.”

The B&B is quiet when you arrive back, and you feel like a teenager again as you sneak past the front desk and up the stairs, trying your best to keep quiet since you both know Irene has already gone off to bed. Your exe’s words briefly flit through your brain, and you wonder what he’d say if he saw you now – drunkenly stumbling around in a mysterious city with a man you’ve known barely longer than a day.

When your foot catches on a step, Harry is there behind you to steady you before you can fall forward. His hands catch your hips, helping keep your balance, but rather than it be something that would send your stomach in knots, the gesture makes you laugh out as you think about how funny it would have been to fall face first into the carpeted floor.

You clamp a hand over your mouth, staring behind at Harry who looks like he’s barely keeping himself from laughing. You maneuver your hand so it’s just your index finger pressed against your lips, a soft shhh falling past them. Harry nods, pretending to zip his lips shut and locking them, before throwing the pretend key over his shoulder. The action threatens to send you into another fit of giggles, but you manage to hold it in as you take the rest of the steps two at a time.

The boards creak beneath your feet as you walk to your door. Turning, you just about run into Harry, your hands flying up to press against his chest in an attempt to keep from stumbling into him.

“Sorry,” you stutter out, taking a step back and resting your back against your door. “Wine’s getting to me.”

Harry smiles, and in the barely-there light of the hallway, you think you can see something playful glittering in his eyes. “S’getting to me too.”

You suddenly remember the feel of his hands on your hips moments earlier, and the way he had kept his arm wrapped around you the whole way back. There’s that knot in your stomach that hadn’t appeared before, slowly making itself known now as you try to think of what to say next.

Harry speaks first, his voice low and his words slurred. “I had fun tonight.”

“So you said.”

“How long are you staying?”

The question takes you by surprise. “Tomorrow is my last full day. I leave the next morning.”

Harry looks a bit disappointed by that, but it’s quickly replaced by something else. “Y’know, I think I have a terrific way for you to prove to everyone when you go back that you still know how to have a good time.”

You swallow when Harry takes a step closer, your back pressing further into your door. “And what’s that?”

A smile, one that’s devious and just a little bit convincing, “Let me kiss you?

You bite your lip, trying to get ahold of the situation. This is not at all how you expected your vacation to go, but you can’t help but agree that it is the best way to prove to everyone and yourself that you’re not who they think you are.

You realize that this is it – your moment to prove to yourself that everyone else was wrong. How could you not be adventurous when you’re in a random country all by yourself, about to kiss a boy you’ve never met? That’s the perfect thing to do to prove everyone wrong.

And maybe there’s something in the way that Harry’s advances make you feel that adds to you giving a soft yes.

When Harry kisses you, it’s just as you would have imagined it. And then somehow, it’s more. His lips are soft against your own, the distant taste of strawberry chapstick and the wine from earlier lingering on them and you want to savor that taste, burn the memory of those flavors together into your brain. His hands find your hips again, pressing into them unlike he had earlier. There’s intention behind the grip, the promise of something more to come.

You clumsily reach for the doorknob behind you, not daring to move your lips away from Harry’s. The door falls open and almost takes you with it as you stumble back, barely catching yourself by gripping onto Harry’s shoulders. You press your mouth back to his, feeling like he could swallow you whole in that moment.

You reach blindly for the zipper on his shorts, your hand brushing over the tent forming there and causing Harry to let out a hiss at the friction. You smile against his mouth when he reaches down, taking the matter into his own hands and unzipping his shorts as he kicks off his shoes. You follow his lead and let your shoes meet his own in a pile on the floor. The pile only grows as you both precede to strip, and when you’re left staring at Harry’s naked body, a small gasp falls from your lips.

You reach out to run a hand across the butterfly inked into his stomach before letting it trial down to tease one of the ferns against his hip. You remember them from the night before, half concealed by the shorts he had kept on, but now having them on full display sendsa shudder through you.

“You’re pretty,” you tell him softly, and he laughs.

“So are you,” he replies, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, gently pushing you back onto your bed.

You had almost forgotten about the twin size bed in your room until you fall against it. You want to laugh at the size of it compared to your two bodies collapsing onto it, but Harry rests himself on top of you and attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking a deep mark into your skin.

One hand finds his hair, raking your fingers through it and tearing a groan from Harry’s chest, while the other scrapes at his back, your nails threatening to leave red scratches all over his skin. Harry lingers against your neck for only a moment before he’s trailing down your body, planting kisses against your skin as he goes.

When he reaches your hip, he digs his fingers into your stomach as he leaves a kiss in the curve there before he plants himself between your thighs. The bed is squeaking in protest to all of this movement, but it’s not bad enough for you to want to stop.

Harry kisses at your folds before bringing his fingers up to spread them. Both your hands are tangled in his curls now, tightening their hold as Harry’s tongue finds your clit. You squirm as he presses his mouth against you, coaxing a few moans from you before you remember that you’re not alone in the building.

“Harry,” you gasp out as your hips buck against his mouth, “the bed.”

You don’t think he hears you at first, the squeaking growing louder with each move he makes that causes your hips to come up off the mattress, but then his hands are under your thighs. Slowly, without moving his mouth away from you, Harry slides you off the bed. He meets the floor first, a bit more gracefully than you do as you slip off the bed and onto the floor. Harry laughs when you let out a yelp as your ass hits the carpeted floor.

You’re face to face with him now, and there’s slick covering his mouth. Without thinking, you grab his face and kiss him, letting your own taste wash over your tongue. Harry groans into your mouth, the vibration moving through your chest.

“I wanna taste you,” you tell him, but he shakes his head.

“Swear I won’t be able to hold it in much longer.” He’s breathing heavily and that only makes you smile something wicked that sends Harry’s brain into overload.

“Just a little taste,” you mutter before pushing at his chest so he falls back onto the carpet. You move between his legs like he had only minutes ago, your hand coming up to grip the base of his dick.

Harry lets out a hiss as you wrap your hand around him, giving a slow pump. When you lick the tip, though, he can barely hold back the moan he lets out and you laugh a little.

“Good?” you ask, taking him into your mouth finally and Harry feels like he’s slowly losing the will to function, wondering if he can even get the words out.

“Good, yeah. Yeah. S’good.”

You give him a few more pumps, moaning against him when he brings a hand up to wrap in your hair, but you don’t want him to lose control before he can get inside of you, so you restrain yourself and pull back.

Harry gives you a pitiful look when you pull away, only to be replaced with something much more eager when you begin to climb on top of him. He lays back against the carpet, grabbing your hips as you guide yourself onto his cock.

You both let out a mixture of sounds as you slide down onto him, letting yourself get used to the feel of it. After a minute, you rock back onto him, and Harry takes that as a good sign. Before you know it, he’s lifting his hips off the floor to fuck up into you, turning you into a whining mess as you chase your orgasm. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and you’re sure that Irene must’ve heard you at this point, but you don’t care anymore as you press your hands down onto Harry’s stomach and try to meet the pace he’s set.

“Gonna cum,” he tells you, but you could already tell with the way his thrusts have become more frantic and sloppier. You can only nod, falling against his chest as you feel the beginnings of your own orgasm start to take over.

When yours hits, you cry out into Harry’s chest. Harry doesn’t stop, though, instead wrapping his arms around you as he chases his own. It only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s pulling out of you and moaning into your hair. You can feel the hot spurts hit your stomach, dripping down onto his due to your position. The two of you stay like that, his arms still wrapped tight around you, holding you to him.

“Harry?” you finally say after a few minutes of you trying to catch your breath. You can feel the effects of the wine from earlier still mixed with the aftermath of your orgasm, and it’s all making your brain feel a bit hazy.

“Yeah?”

You roll off of Harry, the heat of being pressed to him becoming a little too much, but he doesn’t let you go, and you find yourself laying sideways, Harry’s arms still wrapped around you as you lay face to face. “Do you usually fuck random strangers you barely know in Italy?”

Harry lets out a soft giggle, one of his hands beginning to rub at your back. “You’d be the first.”

You reach a hand up to run through his curls, pushing them back off his forehead. “Glad to know I’m not alone there,” you mumble. “So, what do we do now?”

Harry shrugs the best he can in his position on the floor. “We clean up, try to fit in your tiny bed, and figure it out in the morning?”

You hum in response. “I don’t think I can face Irene in the morning.”

“Oh, that woman sleeps like the dead. N’way she heard.”

“Still.”

Harry thinks for a moment. “How about I go downstairs in the morning, grab us some of Irene’s lovely breakfast, and convince her to go out for the day so you can be free of the embarrassment of her hearing us having really amazing vacation sex?”

You roll your eyes. “Then it’ll be obvious what we’re doing.”

“Yes, but I think Irene would appreciate the heads up before she’s wondering why the boards are creaking so badly the whole day.”

You smack your hand against Harry’s chest and a laugh bubbles up from it. “Are you saying you’re going to have me spend my last day in Italy locked away in a bedroom getting my guts rearranged?”

“That’s one way to describe it,” he laughs.

You hum again. “Y’know, I thought I hated you this morning.”

“That was kinda evident by the way you kicked me under the table at breakfast.”

You gasp. “That was an accident!”

“Ah, so you just wanted an excuse to play footsie, huh?”

You hit him again. “An accident, Harry.”

Harry laughs, pulling you further against him. You let out a yawn as you rest your head in the crook of his neck. “We should probably get up. I feel a bit gross.”

You hum in response, tickling Harry’s neck with the vibrations. You hear Harry say your name in an attempt to get your attention, but you’re already drifting off against his chest with the promise of him etched into your brain for when you wake up.

Harry figures he’ll get up in a bit rather than disturb you now, letting himself relax against you. He means to only lay there for a few minutes until he knows he can remove himself from you so he can clean up, but soon enough his eyelids are falling shut as he too drifts off to sleep.

[ghstandpucks]

Teacher Appreciation Part 3 ~ Nathan MacKinnon (4+1)

Here it is! Part 3 (and last) of Teacher Appreciation! I'm so thankful for all the comments and love, thank you to everyone who has read it! Let me know what you think of this part! Shout out to @cozynightscandle for asking about a part 3 and providing some inspo, as well as @avsfans95 for always letting me bounce ideas off of her!

Also, sixth grade is still considered elementary in my district, so I kept it that way for purposes of the story!

Summary: The four times Nate surprised your class, and the one time your class and Nate surprised you.

Warning: mentions of the pandemic (not the main focus, just touching on how teaching was during that time as I spent the beginning of my teaching career pretty much online)

Word Count: 4,634

Master List

Your first year of teaching sixth grade was actually more successful than you would have thought. It was a different type of bond you were able to build with your students. Instead of having to tie shoes and clean boo-boos, you became someone that your students would come talk to if they were too stressed. They told you their dreams and aspirations; all the while still relying on you to calm their fears when math became overwhelming. Long story short, you absolutely loved it. Yes, some were taller than you, and on more than one occasion Nate would lose you among your kiddos when he would come to help in your classroom. Still, you built connections that you didn’t think were possible after always working with the younger kids. Nate loved seeing how excited you were, and loved when you would come home and tell him all about what your kids did that day.

And yes, home was now with Nate. During a bad snow one evening, you were panicking about having to get back home so you could change just in case school wasn’t cancelled for the next day. Nate, off-handedly, suggested that it would be easier for you to just move in, since you were over all the time anyways; his office half taken over with craft supplies already. You agreed with a sarcastic laugh, thinking he was joking, but woke up to him clearing out space in his closet. During winter break, you officially moved in. Now it was your second year in sixth grade, and a handful of your kiddos from third grade when you first met Nate were back in your class. And if you thought third graders were intrusive, they just got worse, especially when they already knew you.

1

“Miss Y/L/N, could you not give us homework tonight? I have practice,” Steven asked right after the morning bell rang and you were checking over last nights homework.

“Steven, I already don’t give you much homework and you have time to usually start it in class. Use your time wisely kiddo,” you said, stamping his paper as he groaned.

“But Miss Y/L/N…”

“But nothing, do your work,” you responded, making a face at him that caused the young boy to huff out a laugh. You had only been in school for a month now, but have been having a great time with your kids. Today, the Avs would be on campus talking with the fifth graders as they do every year about the presidential fitness test. Last week when your students caught word that the hockey team would be there, half of them pleaded with you to get the team into your classroom. Little did they know that you had a different surprise planned for them. During recess, Nate ran into your classroom as you gathered your PE supplies. “Do they know yet?” he asked, giving you a quick kiss and taking the kickball from your hands.

“Not a clue,” you giggled as he retreated to his teammates and you went to get your kids from line. Leading your students into the gym as you had PE after recess, they all started to shout and jump around when they saw who was joining them. You waved as Nate came into view, accompanied by the entire Avs’ line up.

“Hi Teacher Dad!” Alexa squealed over the commotion, and you swore your face was beat red. She hadn’t used that term yet this year and to be frank, you had forgotten about it.

“Alexa,” you started as the guys laughed.

“Hi Alexa,” Nate called out, smiling at you with a look that told you not to get upset. Looking back at the girl, she sent you a sweet smile and you just shook your head with a laugh.

“You know better,” you said and she giggled. “Alright, ladies and gentleman gather around please! Today we will be continuing our game of….”

“Kickball basketball!” your kids yelled, running off to their teams and taking their positions. “Wait wait wait. Before we get started, would someone kindly explain the rules of kickball basketball to our newcomers,” you gestured towards the Avs who looked completely confused at your fusion of the two ballgames.

“So one team pitches the ball like in kickball and the other team has to kick it. Then they skip around the perimeter of the basketball court and have to make it back home before the other team can get the ball and shoot it through the hoop,” Justin explained.

“There are also no bases so you can’t stop. You aren’t safe anywhere unless you make it back home,” Kalel added.

“This is really a game now?” Andre asked you and you nodded.

“And it is our favorite. So I have my kids playing odds vs evens based on their class numbers. I think you all can split up that way too,” you said, gesturing for the guys to join their respective teams. Nate watched as you settled the argument about who the pitcher would be between three of your boys, not handing the ball over till they figured it out diplomatically.

“She wasn’t joking when she said her students were taller than her, was she?” Andre laughed from beside Nate as he chuckled along. You stood on the sideline, cheering and calling out foul balls for the duration of the game. The Avs took it easy with your kids, just laughing and having fun. Your kids were ecstatic, being able to call some of the guys their teammates; getting high fives and being cheered on by the pro athletes. You PE time was about to end within another five minutes as the teams switched sides after the evens got three outs on the odds. You saw Isaac hand Nate the ball to make him pitcher, smiling as Nate gently rolled the ball to Kiely. After she kicked it and almost made it around, Steven was up.

“Miss Y/L/N, will you kick?” he called out to you, and your class started to cheer. It was no secret that you played PE games with your kids from time to time. A chant of your name was started as you laughed and put your keys and walkie talkie off to the side.

“Teacher Mom vs Teacher Dad, yaaaasss,” Alexa cheered and you shook your head.

“Alexa,” you called and she smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry!” Nate laughed and turned his attention back to you. He rolled the ball slower than you knew he could, but that didn’t stop you from kicking it with all your might. Your kids (and the Avs) on your side were cheering loudly as you skipped around the perimeter laughing, coming back to home a second before Tyson got the ball in the net.

“Evens win!” you called out, then made your two teams shake hands with each other and collect the equipment as it was time to head back to class. As your class was saying goodbye to the Avs, Nate walked over and bumped his arm into you.

“You know I went easy on you right?” he asked, ever the competitor. You laughed and smiled sweetly at him.

“You know you shouldn’t have, right?” you shot back, laughing as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you back home. Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you,” he whispered back. You gathered your class and ushered them out of the gym and back to your classroom. The rest of the day went well as your class was floating on cloud nine from their interaction with the Avs.

2

One Thursday afternoon before Winter break, you came home with several bags of potatoes in hand. Opening your apartment door, you walked in on Mikko and Andre watching a basketball game with Nate; your boyfriend automatically getting up and taking a few bags from you. “What’s with all the potatoes?” Mikko asked.

“We’re mummifying them tomorrow in class,” you answered casually, walking off into the kitchen as Nate sat back down on the couch while Mikko and Andre looked entirely confused.

“Did what she just said not phase you at all?” Andre asked Nate and the center shrugged.

“I’ve been hearing about this project for like 3 months now,” he said casually. You walked back into the room and sat on the edge of the couch near Nate.

“Mummifying potatoes?” Mikko asked, looking slightly horrified.

“Yeah, we’re learning about ancient Egypt. We’re going to wrap the potatoes in foil and decorate them with plastic jewels like they were death masks,” you explained in an excited tone.

“How?” Andre asked, now completely more interested in what you were talking about than the game.

“I’m going to cut large slices of potatoes so ever student gets a handful. Then we’re going to pour baking soda and salt on them to dry it out like the Ancient Egyptians would dry a body. Then we are going to wrap it in tin foil like a sarcophagus and decorate. When we get back from winter break, we’ll ‘excavate’ them by unwrapping the potatoes and see how we did with drying it out, documenting changes and what we see like archaeologists,” you explained. Nate smiled up at you as Mikko and Andre tried to figure out if the project seemed cool or crazy. They settled on cool.

“Can we help?” Mikko asked and you laughed.

“Nate’s coming in tomorrow to help. The two of you can come with him if you want,” you said and the guys nodded.

The following day, Alexa answered the door when there was a knock as you were starting to explain to your class what they were going to do with their potatoes. “Teacher Dad! You’re here!” She said quietly as to not get in trouble by you. Nate chuckled, nodding as Mikko and Andre planned on chirping him later for how comfortable your class was with him if they were calling him teacher dad like it was no big deal. It was one thing when they were younger, but took on a different comfort level as they were older.

The guys helped you pass out the materials and made their own sarcophagi as you circled the classroom making sure your students were staying on task and not just goofy around. A few of your sports obsessed boys clung to the hockey players and copied their every move, decorating their sarcophagi to look similar. You laughed, passing by Nate’s and adding an extra jewel because you wanted to make it more sparkly. He narrowed his eyes at you, but let you keep adding jewels until you were content and circled the class again to see how your kids were coming along. Mikko and Andre snickered; only you would be allowed to touch anything of Nate’s and not have him explode on you.

“Mr. MacKinnon?” two of your girls came up to Nate with little giggles. He looked at them confused, but answered.

“Yes?”

“You and Miss Y/L/N are dating right? Like you’re here all the time. Ever since third grade,” Audrey asked in a hushed tone while Cierra continued to giggle. Nate flushed, not sure how to answer them.

“You must really like her. Like, marry her like her,” Cierra added as Nate cleared his throat and his teammates started to laugh. Before Nate could formulate a sentence though, you were calling for your class’s attention, letting them know it was time to put their ‘sarcophagi’ on the back counter and clean up for the day. As you circled the room again, you noticed Nate looking a bit red with the two forwards trying to hold in their laughter.

“You okay?” you asked him quietly.

“Fine,” he shot you a smile, and though you were skeptical, you returned to your class.

“Yeah Teacher Dad Mackinnon. When are you going to make her Teacher Mom MacKinnon?” Andre chirped quietly, muttering a sorry when you shot him a look having heard his voice, but not what he said. Truth be told, Nate had already thought about it and had plans for an off-season proposal.

3

Campus was quiet on a Thursday after school. You had made copies and stapled a few packets together, graded math tests, and prepared a social studies test for Friday. One task led to another and you kept walking around your room hanging up new student work. Sitting down, you started working on going through your students work from the week to check for understanding and participation. As you were stamping and writing comments, you heard your door being unlocked. Figuring it was the custodian, you kept on plugging away. “Hi Ms. Kay,” you said cheerfully, before looking up and jumping in shock. “What are you doing here?” Nate looked at you incredulously.

“Why are you still here? Y/N I thought something happened to you,” he walked over to you and pulled you up and into a hug. Was he worried about you?

“No, I was just getting some things done. How did you get in?” you asked as he let go of you.

“Ms. Kay gave me your room key when I ran into her in the parking lot. Why the hell are you still here? I tried to call you like ten times,” Nate said, obviously worried, but you still weren’t sure why.

“I have bad reception in my room, I’m sorry babe,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Why are you so worried. Is everything okay?”

“You don’t know what time it is, do you?” Nate asked you, laughing humorlessly.

“It’s only like 4:30,” you said, looking at him confused.

“Hun, no,” he said, showing you his watch. “It’s 7:30.”

“Oh my gosh Nate. I am so sorry! One thing led to another and I wasn’t paying attention and…” you rambled.

“Hey it’s okay,” Nate tilted your chin up with his forefinger. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, realizing you had worried him. Nate smiled softly at you, giving you a quick kiss before grabbing your backpack and keys.

“Let’s go home,” he tugged on your hand but looked back when you didn’t budge.

“Nate I have so much to do. I don’t know how I got behind this week but I need to get all their work together and sent home in their Friday folders,” you rushed out, starting to feel overwhelmed that you didn’t have all the time you thought you had.

“Then they can get them on Monday. You need to come home and get some rest,” Nate tried to reason patiently with you.

“Nate, they’re called Friday folders for a reason,” you said.

“And I’m sure if they get them late one week no one will riot,” he responded.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know your class adores you as their teacher. Now let’s go home and you can finish them tomorrow if you’re going to stress over it,” Nate started to pull you along.

“But…”

“Leave it.”

The next day you were running on pure caffeine and more thankful than usual that it was Friday. The unfortunate part, your schedule had no room for you to work on your Friday folders. Figuring you would skip lunch to get it done, you went about your day as usual. You were helping Noah with dividing fractions when there was a knock at your door. As you continued to help your student, Justin got up and answered. “Mr. MacKinnon!” he yelled and your head shot up.

“Justin, that is not an appropriate classroom tone,” you said as your class was all trying to get a better look at Nate. “Get back to work you guys. I’ll be right back Noah. Try number 12 by yourself,” you suggested, getting up and walking over to Nate. “Everything okay?”

“What do you want me to file?” he asked.

“What?” you asked, confused by his question.

“You were stressed yesterday about your Friday folders and they still look empty,” Nate gestured toward your hanging files on the wall with all the student’s folders in them. “I figured I would stop by to see if you needed help.”

“Are you my room mom for the day?” you laughed quietly and Nate nodded. Checking the time, you shook your head.

“You just got out of practice. I appreciate the help, but I’m sure your tired. Go home and rest,” you said, feeling guilty that you had worried him yesterday.

“I’m good. Where should I start?” he smiled.

“Please let him stay Miss Y/L/N. I love making my brother mad that Nathan MacKinnon spends time in our class instead of his,” Isaac said from behind you. Turning around, you laughed looking up at the tall sixth grader.

“Why are you up?” you asked.

“Oh! I need help on number 15,” he showed you his messy paper.

“We’ll go over everything right now. But did you flip the second fraction and then simplify?”

“No….”

“Ohhh, I would start there,” you smiled.

“Yes ma’am,” Isaac saluted you and went back to his desk. You laughed softly, shaking your head and turning back to Nate. “If you’re sure you want to stay, their work is all ready to be filed and it’s sitting on my desk. Thank you.” You smiled at Nate with a sigh of relief. He squeezed your arm reassuringly for a moment, then walked over to your desk to grab the stack he needed. “Alright my crazies, let’s go over our keep, change, flip.”

4

This wasn’t actually happening, was it? There’s no way this is real. These thoughts swirled in your head on a Friday in March. The school was closing for an extended spring break due to an outbreak. COVID-19 was closing your school. Nate’s season was just postponed, and now school. You went home in tears that day, not knowing what was going to happen next.

Over the next two weeks, you prepared Google Classrooms and work to do digitally as your school year was called. A month in a half online, then summer. Nate was getting agitated, not knowing what to expect with hockey and also worried for the both of you in the city. “I’m getting us a flight to Coal Harbor before they close the borders,” he mentioned one night during dinner.

“Nate, I can’t leave. What if I need to get back into my class? What if my kids need me?” you asked, your anxiety heightening.

“Then I’ll find a way to get you back here as quickly as possible. I just think we would be safer at home with more space, not an apartment in the middle of Denver,” he explained.

“I don’t have anything to teach there. At least here I have a white board, I can’t take that on a plane,” you rambled. Nate reached across the table and grabbed your hand.

“I already ordered you one for there. It’s being delivered tomorrow. You can turn one of the spare rooms into your classroom, or you can take my office and I can do things somewhere else. I just want to go back home, and I’m not comfortable leaving you here,” he said, wiping a tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You weren’t sure if you were stress crying or worried crying at this point. He did have a point though, and you were online for the remainder of the school year. You nodded.

“Okay.”

~ ~ ~

Three weeks later you were laughing at a story one of your kids was telling you over Google Meet. You had to give it to your class, they were very resilient and working hard to finish the year off. Deciding that you wanted to do something fun for PE, you roped Nate into a low-key training session. You told your kids to come to class that morning in their favorite sports gear and be ready to move. Opening your meet, you appeared in your MacKinnon jersey. “Of course you have a MacKinnon jersey Miss Y/L/N,” Cierra said laughing. You looked at her shocked.

“Who else should I have?” you laughed with her.

“Crosby,” Kiely unmuted herself quickly.

“I heard that Kiely!” Nate yelled from somewhere in the hallway. Your kids started laughing and you smiled at them, thankful to have them all healthy and safe in front of you, even if it was through a screen.

“Okie dokie kiddies. I have something fun planned for us today. Are you all ready to meet our special guests?”

“We know Mr. MacKinnon is there Miss Y/L/N,” Steven unmuted himself and laughed.

“I said guests as in plural Steven. But if you don’t want to meet him, I guess I can just send him back home,” you shrugged, starting to turn around in your chair.

“No no no! Steven stop talking. Miss Y/L/N, who is it?” Noah called, practically bouncing out of his seat.

“Hey, be nice Noah. Alright ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. I would like you to meet your PE coaches for the day. Mr. MacKinnon you already know, but say hi!” your kids all unmuted themselves to say hello to Nate as he walked into the room. “Okay now, drumroll please! Your other PE coach, Mr. Crosby!” The screams of your kids had you pressing ‘mute all’ really quick. If only there was a mute all in real life. Sidney waved at your kids while Nate laughed as Kalel fell out of his chair in excitement. You saw parents running into the rooms of your students, all waving and excited themselves once they saw there was no danger.

After a 30 minute workout with Nate and Sid demonstrating and counting for the kids, you let them have time to talk with your class. They had been working so hard, you figured some time missed from learning to enjoy themselves in this hectic experience was needed. Friday was half day for you online, so after a math review and reading time, you said goodbye to your kids as they all started to log off. Waving till the last one left, you sunk back into your chair as you ended the call. Nate came into the room and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for doing that today,” you said, smiling at your boyfriend.

“Of course. I would do anything for you, you know that,” he said simply and you smiled. “I am mad at Kiely though. Why should you have a Crosby jersey?” Nate made a face and you giggled.

“She just wants what’s best for her teacher,” you teased him, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss and then standing up to head to the kitchen for a snack.

“Yeah sure,” Nate said, then comprehended what you just said. “Hey!” he ran after you, circling his arms around your waist while you laughed and tried to get away from him.

+1

It was the last day of school for the year, and you were watching a movie with your kids on Google Meet. After the meet you talked about the summer and what they hoped to do if they could. You had them also talk about what their favorite part of the year was and what they look forward to in Junior High. “You guys know that I will always be here for you. I know you will all be awesome seventh graders and I can’t wait to run into you all at the grocery store one day and have you all tell me about it,” you said, starting to get choked up with having to say goodbye to them after such an insane year.

“I’m gonna miss you Teacher Mom,” Alexa unmuted herself and you almost broke. Even though you would get after her when she would call Nate Teacher Dad, you loved being her Teacher Mom.

“You’re going to make me cry,” you said, tearing up and laughing as your kids all started to unmute themselves to tell you not to cry.

“Miss Y/L/N, can you call Mr. MacKinnon into the room please?” Kiely asked softly and you nodded, figuring she wanted to say goodbye to him too. You called for Nate, laughing at a joke one of your boys told you while he walked into the room. Seeing him through the camera, you turned around in shock.

“What’s all of this?” you said to all the little presents and cards Nate was holding and placing down on the desk beside your laptop.

“We all wanted to get you something, so my mom emailed Mr. MacKinnon to plan how to get it to you!” Isaac shouted.

“Email?” you asked Nate, not knowing they had his email.

“Instagram,” he whispered. Your actual room mom DMed Nate.

“You guys! This is too much! Thank you,” you gushed, looking at the outpour of love from your class. “You’re all the best and I love you guys,” you said, not helping the tears that came to your eyes.

“Love you Miss Y/L/N!” a few of your girls shouted while your boys just laughed.

“There is also one more thing,” Nate muttered to you, rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys ready?” he asked your class, and you could hear the nerves in his voice. Why was he nervous? Your kids all nodded, big smiles on most of their faces. “Okay, hold them up.” You watched the screen as your kids held up colorful posters with different sayings on them. Confused, you started to read them.

“Teacher Mom + Teacher Dad”

“Congratulations!”

“Mrs. MacKinnon’s Class!”

“Say yes!” … Kiely’s had a picture of a ring on it. Your jaw dropped as your heartbeat sped up.

“Turn around!” Alexa yelled through the speakers. Spinning in your chair, you came face to face with Nate kneeling in front of you, a beautiful ring in his hands.

“I had a whole speech planned out, but I’m forgetting it now,” he chuckled and you giggled with him, more tears filling your eyes. “I know this time has been crazy, and I didn’t plan on purposing to you during a pandemic, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. I love you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. I’m thankful everyday that those kids brought you to the rink that day three years ago. I love having crafts all over my desk because you need more space, and I love being Teacher Dad; more than I thought I would. But most of all, I love the peace and steadiness you bring to my life, even if you’re running in circles yourself. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Say yes!” shouts came from behind you on the computer screen. You smiled, nodding your head.

“Yes, of course,” you said, tears falling. Nate smiled at you and slipped the ring on your finger, standing up and bringing you into a hug. He wanted to kiss you, but knew you would get mad that it was in front of your class. Cheers erupted from the meet, and you turned to see not only your students but their parents also. Laughing, you showed your class your ring quickly.

“Yay Teacher Mom and Teacher Dad!” Alexa shouted and you couldn’t get mad at her this time. After they all calmed down and you said your final goodbyes, you ended the meet and found Nate laying on the couch. You lowered yourself on top of him and kissed him.

“How did you get them to do that?” you asked, referring to the signs.

“When Isaac’s mom messaged me, I brought it up. She coordinated it all with the other parents,” he said and you laughed.

“I love you,” you said, kissing him again, Nate wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I love you too, future Mrs. MacKinnon.”

Tagged: @avsfans95 @capsvsducks @justjosty @tysojost @natxpat @evphemia @stlbluesbrat21 @fallinallincurls @joeyisourranger @kyratallent @drewseph93 @ayohockeycheck @tkbarzal @stormingroses @dreamandrow @handwrittenheros @brandonbagel @bakerclaire123 @miranda0102 @cherrylita @musiclove-12 @reallyawkwardbandlover

[midnightstar-90]

Live Laugh Love ~ Pilot

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Georgie Cooper x Reader

Summary: 9-year-old Sheldon Cooper learns that having a brilliant mind doesn't always help growing up in Texas.

Warning: None

A/N: I wrote 2,587 words! I loved being able to bring my creations to life. I hope to do more in the future.

Y/N and Georgie are in Georgie's room when Mary calls the two teens down for dinner. They head down the stairs and into the kitchen. As they sit down in their chairs, right next to each other, they hear Mary yells towards the garage, "Shelly, dinner's ready!" Mary starts serving the table as we wait for Sheldon. George yells out to Sheldon after a couple of minutes, "Sheldon! Don't make me come in there!" Y/N and Georgie sit there engaging in a hushed conversation about the movie they watched together earlier that week. Missy soon gets tired of waiting for Sheldon, and yells to Sheldon, "Sheldon, if you don't get in here, I'm gonna lick your toothbrush while you're sleeping!" Sheldon quickly responds with, "Coming" before rushing into the house to eat.

Sheldon enters the house, and he quickly sits down with the rest of his family, who are all sitting around the table. George waits for the boy to sit down before saying, "What the hell were you doing in there?" Mary calls George's name with a calm yet angry voice. George notices and responds with, "What?" Mary gets onto George for his language. "What language?" George asks Mary before turning to Sheldon, "So?" "I was having fun with dimensional kinematics", Sheldon says responding to his father. Hearing this, Y/N and Georgie look at each other and roll their eyes.

"Just at admit it, he's adopted," Georgie says to his parents after turning his attention away from his food. Sheldon turns to Georgie and says, "How could I be adopted when I have a twin sister? Think monkey, Think." Y/N chuckles at Sheldon's insult towards Georgie. Georgie gives Y/N a glare. Mary breaks the fight between the boys by telling them that no one was adopted, but Y/N. Mary realizes what she says and sadly looks at Y/N. Y/N just shrugs and goes back to listening to the people she called family. Y/N was sad about the reminder of the situation that occurred when 11 years ago but didn't let the comment affect her.

"I wish I was.", Missy comments under her breath. "That can still be arranged.", Mary tells Missy before telling the family that it is time to pray. George expresses his irritation with a groan, causing Mary to give George a very stern look. Right before the family starts to pray, Sheldon puts on a pair of mittens. George groans again which makes Y/N chuckle. "Leave him be," Mary says defending her youngest son. George argues, "He can hold hands with his family, it won't kill him."  "We don't know that." Sheldon says before looking at Georgie and asks, "Did you wash your hands before dinner?" "Shut up," says Georgie defensively. Y/N finally speaks up, "Hey, I have to hold his hand to pray every night, whether his hands are washed or not." Georgie glares at Y/N again, and Y/N and Missy laugh and high-five each other under the table. "I hold his hand Y/N, hence the mittens." Y/N playfully rolls her eyes at the comment. The family holds their hands together and prays.

After prayer, Sheldon takes off his mittens and starts eating with the family. Mary asked everyone at the table if they were excited to start school on Monday. Sheldon is the first to respond with an "I am". Missy then responds to Mary's question with an "I guess so". Y/N is third to respond with, "I guess. The only thing I like is hanging out with Georgie and the fact that I am in Art this year". Ever since Y/N moved into Cooper's household, Mary noticed that the one thing Y/N loved more than hanging out with Georgie was how creative she was. At church, Y/N would sing like angel. When Y/N thought Mary wasn't looking she would dance her heart out. Y/N also had a sketchbook full of really cool art and a notebook full of wonderful poems and stories. Mary knew Y/N was gonna have a successful life, and she hoped and prayed that Georgie wouldn't mess it up for her.

Georgie was not happy about starting school. "How can I be excited when he's gonna be there?!" Georgie complains. Sheldon boasts, "Don't worry, I won't be in the ninth grade for very long". George tries to help Georgie by saying, "Never mind him, you and Y/N just focus on your practice". Georgie is on the football team and Y/N is on the cheer squad. "How am I supposed to do that when he's in the same grade as me?" "Just ignore him. At least you'll have me there, except for 5th period. I have art" Y/N reassures her best friend.

"All I know is he's not in the same grade as me anymore, and I am thrilled," Missy says before getting a kick in the leg and glare from Y/N. Sheldon sarcastically says, "Good luck with your finger painting."Missy responds with, "You're gonna get your ass kicked in high school". Mary yells at Missy about her language. Sheldon says, "I'm not going to be assaulted- high school is a haven for higher learning". Y/N and George both respond with a quiet, "oh, dear God".

"Speaking of God, who's going to church with me tomorrow?" Mary asked. George says he can't make it because he has to meet with the other coaches. Mary asks if they could meet after church which George responds with a, "no, we can not meet after church". There is an awkward pause before Mary asks Georgie. Georgie tells his mother, "I have to study my playbook." before looking to his father for approval. George nods at his son, while Y/N looks down at her food with a sad expression, wishing that Georgie would have gone with them. "I have to practice my cheer performance, but I can do that after church. It would be nice to go back," Y/N tells her godmother, which puts a big smile on Mary's face and a frown on Georgie's. Sheldon also decides to go with Mary. Y/N's face grew a wide smile hearing that Sheldon was going. "Oh! Cheer practice can wait! Sheldon at church will be more fun than any cheer performance! I can just see it now. Sheldon and science versus Pastor Jeff and God." Y/N jokingly says while laughing. Missy brings the conversation back to Sheldon by asking why he's going to church when he doesn't even like church. "No, but I believe in mom," Sheldon said putting a big smile on Mary's face.

When Mary asked Missy if she was going, Missy tried to get out of it, but as I said she tried. "Son of a bitch.", Missy says under her breath. Mary flicks Missy's head and Georgie laughs. George smacks Georgie's head and Y/N laughs.

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

Y/N's Pov

Mary, Sheldon, Missy, and I were all in our church clothing, sitting in a pew. The church was full. Everyone except for Sheldon sang Onward Christian Soldiers. Sheldon whispers something to Mary, that I couldn't hear.

Pastor Jeff starts the sermon and Sheldon is still asking Mary questions. "Do you have evil thoughts?" Sheldon whispers to his mother. Mary shh's him but he still keeps going, "I just don't think this part applies to me". "That's fine, be quiet and listen," Sheldon says something else about puberty, causing an older woman to turn towards the boy and his mother. When the woman turns back toward the Pastor, Sheldon asked Missy and me if we had evil thoughts. I respond with a "Not really" but Missy said the opposite, " I'm having one right now". When Sheldon asks what it was, Missy said that she was going to kick him where the sun doesn't shine when we got home. Sheldon tells missy that his balls haven't dropped yet and then asked his mom when his balls would drop. The older lady turns back towards the family and Mary threatens the woman.

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

We get back from church and Sheldon instantly goes for the student handbook. I pass Mary and Sheldon to go change. I go into Georgie's room after I change. Georgie is in his normal wear, a t-shirt, and jeans, reading his 'Sports Illustrated' magazine. "You know you have no chance with any of those girls in that magazine, right", I say leaning against Georgie's door frame. Georgie instantly looks up at me and says, "You look good. Maybe more than those girls in my magazine." I'm wearing a black jean skirt, with a nirvana shirt tucked in and a black and white striped long sleeve shirt under it.

Georgie and I laugh at his comment and walk over to his bed. "So, how was church?" Georgie asked while going back to reading his magazine. "It was ok. Your mom almost beat up an old lady for calling Sheldon weird, after he talked about his balls dropping. Other than that, it was like any regular church day." I tell Georgie. "So!", Getting Georgie's attention, "How was your playbook?" I ask Georgie knowing he was lying. Georgie looks at me then back at his magazine. "You know that was not the main reason I didn't go to church. I'm not as invested in church as much as you are, so don't give me that look." Georgie says knowing I was going to get onto him for lying to his mother. I dropped that conversation, and we went downstairs to watch tv and talk.

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

When I get downstairs, I see George and Georgie talking, so I walk over to them. On my way there, Mary stops me and asked me if I've to saw Sheldon's bowtie. I shake my head no and continue walking. When I get to the table where the boys are talking, they are talking about football. Mary comes up and asks if the boys have seen Sheldon's bowtie. George tells Mary, "Leave it alone Mary, he doesn't need a damn bowtie." Mary argues back, "It's his first day of school, let him wear what he wants." Sheldon yells down the stairs that he still can't find his bowtie. "Oh dear lord, why's he gotta wear a bowtie?" Mary says walking away.

"Can Y/N and I ride in with you", Georgie asked his father. I sit there eating my breakfast quietly, before looking up when hearing my name. George contemplates the situation, then says "sure". "Everybody's gonna know he's your brother. You can't hide. It's gonna be awful for you." I didn't even know Missy was at the table before she said something. "Tell her to shut up." Georgie defensively tells his father. Georgie tells his son, "She's not wrong" earning a light slap on the arm from me. George mumbles sorry and goes back to his coffee.

We're all eating when Mary storms into the kitchen. "George Junior, give me back that bowtie right now!" She yells. "I didn't take it!" "Don't you lie to me!" "I'm not lying!" "We'll see about that!" The pair go back and forth. When Mary walks back upstairs, he yells for his mother to stay out of his room. Missy smiles and says, "She's gonna find your dirty magazines." "Shut up." "You are not having a good day." I shake my head at Georgie, agreeing with Missy.

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

Georgie and I are sitting in homeroom when we see Sheldon walk in. Sheldon calls out, "My father's a football coach, my adoptive sister's a cheerleader, and my brother's a football player!" When Sheldon sees us he yells out, "Oh, 2/3 of them are over there! Hi, Y/N! Hi, Georgie!" Georgie and I put our heads down in embarrassment.

Ms. Macelroy introduces herself and the class. She makes a joke about having some of our family members in her class, which causes a few students to chuckle. She introduces Sheldon and Sheldon raises his hand. When the teacher calls on Sheldon, we hear Sheldon tell Ms. Macelroy who is breaking the dress code. Georgie and I sink in our chair lower and lower as Sheldon keeps talking. She dismisses Sheldon, but he puts his hand up again. Sheldon tells his teacher that she is also breaking the dress code because she has a mustache. Georgie and I sink as low as we can in our chair while the rest of the class laughs.

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

Georgie and I are on the football field but on opposite sides. I am with the cheerleaders practicing my moves, and Georgie is with the football players practicing blocking drills. I knew Georgie was having a hard time with starting school with his younger brother, so I kept my eye on him. When I see the fight between him and Albert Stinson, I excuse myself from my squad and follow Georgie to the boy's locker room.

I walk in to see Georgie angrily tearing off his equipment. When he accidentally throws something at me, I quickly dodge it. "You know, if you threw like that on the football field this year, we would win playoffs for sure," I say jokingly getting Georgies attention. "What are you doing here? This is the boy's locker room." "I don't care if the whole team was in here naked, I would do anything to help my best friend when he is down." Georgie sits down next to me. George is watching the whole thing play out. "Do you remember when I was 5, and I missed my parents so much that I had that tantrum?" Georgie nods his head. "You were there for me when I needed you, now it's my time. I've seen how upset Sheldon going to school with us has made you. You have held in your emotions for too long. I know you get jealous when Sheldon gets special treatment. I want you to know that you are not the only one. Missy and I feel that way sometimes, but I have you. I don't need anyone to but you to make me feel special. I guess what I am saying is..." Georgie looks up at me, and I take Georgie into a side hug, "When you feel emotional don't take it out on your team. You have me. Talk to me. We are always together and I don't want to see you tear your life apart over something stupid like going to school with Sheldon."

George comes from behind the locker and tells me to go back to practice. I let go of Georgie and give him a sad look before doing as George instructed.

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

We get home, and George stops me at the door. "Thanks. You stopped your practice to help out Georgie. I appreciate that.", George tells Y/N sincerely. "Georgie is my best friend. Now, if he managed to hit me, that conversation would have gone a whole other direction." I say jokingly. George chuckles and lets me go.

I go up to Georgie's room. Georgie looked like he was in a better mood. I went in and talked with Georgie until time for dinner.

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

Narrator's Pov

The whole family gathers around the table to eat, but first, pray. When it's time to pray Sheldon surprisingly doesn't wear one of his gloves. No surprise when it wasn't the hand Georgie held.

Later that night everyone was sleeping peacefully, except for Y/N who would find laying right next to Georgie, like they have been for the past 11 years when someone was upset.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry doesn’t like halloween until a certain pair of trick or treaters knock on his door.

a/n: HAPPY HARRYWEEN EVERYONE! personally don’t like halloween myself, but I hope everyone has a spooky and fun day (indoors, ofc)! here’s my first halloween piece that was meant to be a blurb, but turned out a little longer than expected, enjoy!

thank you to ira @stylesloveclub​ & cait @sweetcreatureinthedark​ for reading this over! <3

enjoy 5k words of teacher/dad!harry being cute

warnings: brief mention of death, mostly fluff

LETS TALK ABOUT PEBBLES & THE SCARECROW IN MY INBOX! pls let me know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

Harry wasn’t fond of Halloween, if he’s being honest. 

The thought of people putting on scary masks, scaring little kids out of their driveway is something that was so unsettling to him. The scary movies that always release around the month of October that promoted their commercials, causing him to startle on the couch because of the jump scare was not something he looked forward to every year. Especially when those said movies would have their ad on the radio, which makes it even scarier because he could only listen. He would usually have his Bluetooth on with his own music playing, but when it’s only a five minute drive, he doesn’t bother with the Bluetooth. Either way, he doesn’t like it. 

Halloween is not fun, he would say every year. 

However, the upside to the month of October was something he looked forward to because that’s when the weather really changed. September would be sunny and hot still, but then comes around October and the sun would peek behind the clouds as the weather got colder. The leaves would fall from their branches and onto the ground, loving the sound of the crunchy leaves beneath his feet, especially building a pile and jumping into them. Not alone, of course, but with his baby girl who loved to just squeal and laugh at her dad whenever he would jump into the pile of orange leaves that he collected on their front lawn. 

Wynn, his daughter, also loved the change of fall weather just as much as he did. Harry would hype it up so much because October was the start of holiday season, and he loved being in a festive mood. So, naturally, Wynn picked up on his behavior and was just like her dad; jumping up and down when he would get excited. 

Another thing that he liked about Halloween was that he got to pass out candy to the fellow trick or treaters to all the students in the school during their Halloween bash, and to the kids in his friendly neighborhood. Every year, he would buy plenty of candy for the students—sometimes buying too much because he didn’t want anyone to be left out when they would walk up to him. But if he did have extra, he would save them for later that night for the kids in the neighborhood. 

He loved seeing the students’ reactions when he would tell them that they had a cool costume. He especially loved it when the kids would compliment his own costume. Some teachers didn’t really like to dress up on Halloween as they only wore a headband of some sorts or a festive t-shirt, but Harry liked to go all out. He’s been teaching for six years, and every year, he made sure to join in on the fun. One of his favorite costumes was when he dressed up as Peter Pan and Wynn was Tinker Bell. They always coordinated costumes, and Harry hoped that once she gets older, she would never stop wanting to match with him, but he knows that’s inevitable; he’ll just hold onto these moments for now. That was one of his favorites because Wynn just loved her costume so much that she didn’t want to take it off, so seeing her so happy in her princess dress just made his heart burst. 

But this year, he thinks he’s topped the previous years. 

As he said goodbye to Wynn, dropping her off at her class, he greeted her first grade teacher. 

“Oh! Don’t you both look absolutely adorable!” Mrs. Robin, an old lady who had been teaching for years and retiring this school year, said. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Robin. Think this year is my favorite,” Harry said, looking down at Wynn as she nodded her small head at him. Harry was dressed as Fred Flinstone and Wynn was Pebbles. He thought she was the absolute cutest, and he even did her hair the same way in the morning, but instead of a bone, he replaced it with a white bow. 

“You two always have the loveliest costumes!” Harry looked down at Wynn, raising his eyebrows at her to say thank you, and she looked at her teaching, thanking her. 

“Anyways, I gotta go get my class from their line. I’ll see you later at the bash,” he told Mrs. Robin. He bent down, meeting Wynn’s eye level. “Be good, okay?” His daughter nodded. “I’ll see you later. Make sure you say hi to me,” he reminded her. “Love you, bunches.” 

“Love you, tons,” the little girl replied, and he gave her forehead a kiss before she wrapped his arms around his shoulders, giving him a hug. They’ve always been inseparable, and Harry had separation anxiety whenever they part even if it’s just a little bit. And as much as he loves how much his daughter loves him, he hoped that she doesn’t suffer from it as well—although, he thinks it’s starting to begin. He couldn’t help it—he was an affectionate person and always loved to give her hugs and kisses, to which she would give them back. 

Harry quickly walked to his classroom, putting his belongings and the bags of candy down before walking out to pick up his class. Harry taught the third grade, and they were a smart bunch. He loved how it was in between sweet and cuteness, but also watching them grow. He thinks fourth and fifth grade was when they started to become too sassy and dramatic, so he liked being in between. 

“Hi, everyone! Happy Halloween!” He greeted, and his class cheered, some of his students telling him that he looked so cool, and Harry said thank you to them as he complimented them back. “Everyone follows me in a straight line. Don’t stop walking, don’t stray, don’t turn around, and please be sure to keep all hands and feet inside of the vehicle, got it?” They all nodded. “Alright, enjoy the ride, here we go!” He started walking as he smiled. He came up with that line when he was in his second year of teaching as he wanted his class to have fun while going into the classroom, so he acted like it was a rollercoaster, and the kids seemed to love it. 

When they got inside the classroom, the kids took their seats at their desk. Harry told them that they had to do a quick lesson before the Halloween bash, earning a groan throughout the classroom. 

“I know, I know. But it’ll be quick! And then we’ll all have fun after. Unless you all would prefer I teach the lesson after the bash and after lunch?” He asked, knowing what the answer would be. Usually on Halloween, they would have a lesson, the bash, lunch, and Harry would put on a movie as he passed out treats to fill in the rest of the day before the school day ended. Their heads shook as Harry chuckled. “I figured,” he said before he started the quick lesson on reading. 

The lesson only lasted thirty minutes, just in time to head out to the bash. All the classrooms were filing out to the courts, which was the larger area of the school that could fit all eighteen classrooms. The classrooms form a single line all around the three basketball courts, and each class would walk around in a single file line with their bags in hand as the teachers would pass out candy. Music would play and some of the staff would dress into one of those big floaty costumes to jump around in and entertain the other classes who were patiently waiting. The parents were allowed to join as well if they had the time to see their kids in cute costumes; the more the merrier. 

Harry’s class stood in their designated spot, having them line up, and he walked around to check if anyone got left behind, which no one did. The music started and classroom number one was instructed to do their lap, which were the kindergarten classes. Harry was classroom number eleven, so he got his big bowl of candy ready as the first class started to walk around. He saw some really fun costumes; one student was the sun and their friend was the moon, which he thought was so adorable. Once the class before the next was halfways, the next class was instructed to go. 

It went by fairly smoothly, although he could tell that some students were bored, which was understandable. Harry waited for Wynn’s class, in which she was in classroom number six, the last one of the first grade class. He spotted her in her bright green polka dot shirt and tortoise pants—she looked so adorable. He got his phone out when her class was close enough, taking a video of her at the same time as passing out candy. 

“Hi, Daddy!” She greeted, reaching up to hug him. 

“Oh, you’re the cutest. Hi, bubba,” he said as he hugged her back. The embrace was so sweet that he didn’t want to let go, and he didn’t until Wynn said something. 

“Uh, daddy, I gotta go now.” He snapped out of it, and saw that her class was onto the next two classes. He let go of her before kissing her cheek, saying see you later. 

The rest of the Halloween day went by smoothly. It was quite cold out, so the teachers were allowed to have the students eat inside if they wanted to. 

By the end of the day, he picked Wynn up from the front before he made sure his entire class was picked up safely. 

“Did you have fun?” Harry asked Wynn once he saw her. 

“Yeah! Look at all the candy!” She showed him her bag full of sweets. 

“Wow! Alright, let’s get home and sort through the ones you want and don’t want. Gonna have to pick fifteen,” he told her and she pouted. He hated that pout, even though it was adorable, it was a dangerous pout that had Harry almost give in, but he had to be the strong parent. “Sorry, pretty. Thems the rules. Last year I gave you ten, so I bumped it up by five.” 

“Alright…” she trailed off, and Harry chuckled. 

Before they left, he quickly caught Mrs. Robin before she walked away. “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Robin. Do you mind taking a picture of us? Realized I forgot to take one this morning.” 

“Of course, dear! Harry unlocked his phone and opened the camera up before handing it to her. She pointed the camera towards them as she snapped a few pictures of them. They were smiling brightly at the camera before Harry picked Lynn up, so they were the same height. “Here you are. Have a lovely Halloween, you two.” Mrs. Robin bid them goodbye as they both waved. Harry looked at the pictures, seeing that they were blurry and some of them had her finger in the lens. Harry brushed it off, chuckling to himself as he’ll figure out how you two will get a picture later. 

They headed to the car and on their way home to continue the fun with by getting and passing out more candy. 

The cold 5 p.m evening was relaxing and quiet as there weren’t many trick or treaters out just yet, only the little ones that needed to get their candy early in order to be back before bedtime. 

And that’s what you were doing with your three year old. You asked Penelope if she wanted to go and get candy, and just the sound of candy coming out from mommy’s mouth was music to her tiny ears, so she nodded her head. 

“Go now?” She asked, and you looked at the time as it was almost five in the evening. 

“Yeah! We can’t stay long because it’s gonna be cold and I don’t want you to get sick,” you told her. 

“No, I don’t want sick,” Penelope shook her head no. 

“Yeah, me either. I’ll bring a jacket just in case, don’t worry,” you reassured her, and she smiled. 

The jacket didn’t take long to put on. Once you felt the breeze rush through you, blowing away some of the leaves from the ground as Penelope was stomping on them, you immediately put her burnt orange teddy bear coat on over her scarecrow brown dress. You left the hood off since she was wearing a pointy black hat with a sunflower attached to it, which kept falling off everytime she jumped a little too much, might you add. So, you kept having to pick it up and put it back on her. 

You two had visited five houses so far, all houses being so lovely to Penelope as they complimented how adorable she was. Now, you were walking towards the next house when you suggested you go across the street since some of the other houses had signs already prepared saying ‘no candy!’

Penelope usually went with the flow, so she agreed as you two walked across the street and decided to just complete the entire block before walking back home before it got too cold and too late. 

“Go on, baby,” you encouraged her to knock on the black door. She ended up slapping the door with her open palm because she said knocking was hurting her hand. You waited at the bottom of the stairs for the owner of the house to open the door, and Penelope waited thirty seconds before she turned around with a pout on her face. “Don’t think they’re home yet. Lets go to the next one!” You said enthusiastically, hoping to lift her frown. She walked down the brick stairs as you reached out for her hand to hold. 

As you made it down the walkway and onto the sidewalk, you heard the door open frantically, making you turn around from the sudden noise and from a man calling out for you. 

“Wait, wait! I have candy!” The man ran down the walkway in a Fred Flinstone costume with a bucket of candy. You chuckled a bit because never did you imagine Fred himself was chasing after you. He was a very attractive man and he pulled the Flinstone costume quite well. “Sorry, I, uh, was just getting changed into my costume. I’m sorry it took so long. I didn’t realize people would be out trick or treating so early,” he said breathlessly from his rushed actions. 

You giggled. “Well, this one has to before she makes it for bedtime,” you referred to the little one who was jumping on the leaves. Harry looked down as his eyes beamed. 

“Well, look at you! Aren't you the cutest scarecrow!” Penelope looked up once she heard her costume. She smiled at the unknown man, but all she knew was that he had a bowl of candy that she would like to get her hands on. “I got lots of options here. You could choose one or two if you’d like.” Harry bent down to Penelope’s height, holding out the candy bowl to her. He had full fixed candy bars and candy packs, and you thought that must’ve been expensive. 

Penelope picked the candies she knew, which were a Hershey’s Cookies n’ Creme bar and a Twix bar. You raised them up to you, beaming proudly as you lowered her candy basket for her to put it in. 

“What do you say, baby?” 

She turned to Harry again. “Tank you!” 

“You’re welcome!” Harry responded. “Oh, uh, I’m Harry, by the way.” He shook your hand, introducing himself. He smiled, dimples popping out and you felt yourself blush. 

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled. 

“And who might this be?” He bent down again at Penelope. 

“I’m Pennie!” Your daughter introduced herself, and you smiled proudly. 

“It’s lovely to meet you both. You look amazing, Pennie! Although, your mummy doesn’t have a costume on,” he teased, looking at you as he smirked, making your heart flutter. 

“Well, mommy stayed up all night putting together and sewing her costume together, so I didn’t have time to make one for myself,” you explained. You were quite proud of Pennie’s costume. It was a brown dress with long sleeves that had different fall colored squares, but it was all one piece, so Pennie didn’t have to wear something underneath besides her leggings. 

“Wow, you made this? This looks amazing!” Harry complimented, and you humbly said thank your 

“So, uh, since your Fred Flinstone, is the rest of your family dressed up too?” You asked curiously. 

“Oh, no. Just my daughter,” he chuckled, “which by the way, you need to see her costume, one second.” Harry quickly walked into the house, calling out for his daughter. You and Pennie waited on the sidewalk. After a few seconds, Harry came out with his daughter holding his hand as you thought they were the cutest pair. 

“You two are just adorable!” You squealed as you looked at them fondly. 

“Hi, I’m Wynette, but I go by Wynn,” the six year old girl smiled as she introduced herself. 

“Hi, Wynn. I’m Y/N, and this is…Pennie, please stand up.” You found your daughter laying in the pile of leaves. Harry and Wynn laughed fondly. “Sorry about that.” You got Pennie to stand up, brushing her dress off from the dirt and mud. 

“It’s okay! Wynn and I love to jump and lay in the leaves all the time,” Harry said. “Oh! Actually, do you mind doing me a favor? I know we just met, but…” 

“Yeah, of course!” You accepted. 

“Do you mind getting a picture of us? We tried getting on earlier, but it was all blurry,” Harry chuckled, taking out his phone and opening up the camera. 

“Yeah, I got you.” You grabbed his phone as Harry and Wynn both smiled and posed. You lowered down the brightness a tad bit, and took multiple pics of them from different angles, even kicking some of the leaves to their feet to add to the fall effect. After you took plenty, you handed his phone back. “Let me know if you’d like me to take more.” 

“Wow, these are perfect!” Harry exclaimed as he looked at them. “Are you a photographer?” 

“Oh, no. I just really liked taking pictures when I was younger, so I always knew how to take good pictures on an iPhone,” you chuckled, making Harry laugh. Harry proceeded to joke that you should definitely be a photographer but only using a phone, and you teased back saying that you’ll think about it. 

Meanwhile as you two were talking, you two didn’t realize Pennie and Wynn playing in the leaves. Wynn was throwing a handful in the air as the leaves rained down onto the two of them. You smiled fondly at the two, and looked at Harry who was snapping some pictures. 

After a few moments, you called Pennie. “Alright, c’mon, baby. Let’s finish all these houses,” you reached out for her hand, but she pouted, shaking her head no. “Pennie…” 

“No, no! I don’t wanna leave!” Her eyes started tearing up as she frowned. 

“Don’t you want to get more candy?” You asked softly. She didn’t respond, rather turn towards Wynn and look at her with a pout. 

“Oh, uh, I think she wants Wynn to go with her,” Harry chimed in. “Think she got attached too easily within those ten minutes.” You let out a chuckle, knowing that he was right. 

“I’m sorry. Uh, she probably won’t leave your front lawn, but you totally don’t have to come with us, but-” 

“Nonsense! We’d love to go! Right, Wynn?” Wynn nodded her head happily as she continued playing with Pennie. “We usually trick or treat later in the evening, but we’d love to go with you now. I’ll just leave the candy out at the front.” 

“But wouldn’t the kids just take them all?” 

“Hey, that’s fine by me. As long as it’s going somewhere,” Harry shrugged. “Just give me one second to get the rest of the candy, and then we could go.” Harry walked back inside of the house. Wynn stayed with Pennie as you two watched them. You noticed Pennie wasn’t crying anymore, but she was giggling with tear stained cheeks as the older girl twirled her around. 

Two minutes later, Harry walked out of his house and locked the door before putting the candy bowl down onto the steps with a sign that said ‘take one, please!’ but he knew that no one was going to follow the sign’s instruction. After that, he turned towards you, smiling. “Shall we go?” You nodded your head as Harry gave Wynn her candy basket. 

The four of you walked on the leaf covered sidewalk; Wynn and Pennie were walking together in the front as you and Harry walked together behind them. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” You started the conversation. 

“I’m a third grade teacher. Have been for six years. What about you?” 

“I run a small business, selling jewelry and clothing. That’s all I do right now, and it’s gotten pretty big, so it’s taken care of a lot,” you smiled humbly. 

“Wow, that’s amazing. I could definitely see the talent through Pennie’s costume. I’d have to check it out sometime to support.” You smiled at that, giving him the name of your shop. 

The two of you continue walking, waiting for your children as they got candy, and getting to know one another. 

“Do you live around here?” He asked. “I mean, not in a creepy way,” he chuckled nervously. 

You giggled. “Yeah, I live about a block away. We usually walk on the opposite side, but decided to come on this side.” 

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come over here,” he said innocently, but it could be taken as flirtatious. 

“Me too,” you smiled softly. He smiled back as he thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen that’s not related to him. You had soft eyes that looked at him with care, and a smile that he thought was the most gorgeous; you even had dimples on corners of mouth when you would smile, and he just thought that was the cutest thing. 

Obviously, he didn’t know that you were thinking the same thing as him. You felt somewhat intimidated by the tall, attractive, and kind man beside you. And you think his daughter is the cutest. They don’t really look alike, but she probably got her mom’s looks. Speaking of her mother… 

“So, the rest of your family didn’t want to come out with you two?” You asked curiously, still waiting for the answer if he was married or taken or not. 

“No, it’s actually just Wynn and I…” you hummed, smiling to yourself. “You’re probably wondering where Wynn’s mum is, huh?” He teased, noticing your flusteredness. 

“Oh, uh-” you stumbled. 

“It’s okay. I’m wondering if you’re taken too,” he said honestly. 

You chuckled nervously. “I’m not. Haven’t been since Penelope was born, actually.” 

“Do you mind me asking what happened?” 

“Only if you tell me what happened with Wynn’s mom,” you teased. “I mean, only if you want to.” Harry nodded, softly smiling. 

“Pennie’s dad and I got married three years before she was born. Spare the details, but we got a divorce after she was born because I found out that he had another family…and he chose them over us,” you explained. 

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright. I’m over it, and it was for the better because I didn’t want Pennie hearing us fight all the time and me yelling and asking where he’s been,” you breathed out a laugh. It seemed like the memory was just yesterday, but it’s been three years. 

“That must’ve been hard. Are you happier?” 

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. That’s when I launched my business because I couldn’t stay at home and do nothing, so I started to design.” 

“That’s amazing!” Harry smiled. 

“So, that’s my spooky story for today,” you chuckled, “what’s yours?”  

“Wel, uh…” 

“Don’t feel obligated to tell me because I told you my story,” you reassured, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, I know. But I want to tell you. Have a feeling we’re gonna be around each other a lot more often.” He pointed his eyes at the two girls walking in front of you. You smiled at the two holding hands. “But anyways, Wynn’s mother passed away when she was about two months old.” 

You softly gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

“As well as her father too.” Your eyes widened as you suddenly stopped walking for a moment. You looked at him skeptically, studying him for a moment. Harry furrowed his brows once you touched his stomach. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Are you a ghost?” You asked seriously. His words caught you off guard that you actually thought you were imagining Harry the whole time. 

“What? No, I’m not,” he laughed. He totally understood why you thought that. 

“Okay, good. Thought I was tripping. I mean it is Halloween. Anyways, you were saying?” You gave him your full attention as you two started walking again. 

“Wynn’s actual parents passed during an accident. They were on their way back from a little date night. Her father, Alex, was my best friend, and I’m her godfather. So, after they passed, I was her guardian. But when they asked me to be her godfather, they told me the responsibilities and that if anything happened to them, to change Wynn’s last name to my own because they didn’t want her to live on with her life wondering who her real family was. So, I did as they told me. I changed it. And I’ve raised her her whole life, and she’s mine, y’know?” Harry told you, and you listened and nodded. 

“Does Wynn know?” 

“Yeah, she does. I told her last year because she wondered why she didn’t look like me, and I knew that I couldn’t just lie and hide it from her. She’s a smart girl, so I knew she would understand. She cried for a little bit—had an identity crisis and felt like she couldn’t call me dad anymore, but I told her that if she wanted to or not then I would be okay with it. Thankfully, she still does.” Harry looked at his feet as he walked, kicking the leaves around. 

“You’re a great dad, Harry. I’ve known you for about thirty minutes, but I just know you are. Wynn is the sweetest, and you’re doing amazing. But thank you for telling me all that. Know I’m a bit of a stranger,” you slightly laughed. 

“Just a tad bit, but I trust you—I feel it.” You smiled at him, nudging him as you walked, to which you earned one back. 

You all walked back to Harry’s house, and by the time you got there, Pennie was reaching up towards you, telling you to pick her up. She must’ve been tired from all the walking and jumping with her new mate, so she was getting sleepy. 

“I could drive you back, if you’d like?” Harry offered. 

“No, it’s okay! Not that far of a walk. Thank you for joining us, though! Pennie and myself really appreciated it and we had fun,” you smiled. 

“We did as well. We’ll see you around?” Harry said, and you nodded, waving goodbye. 

Harry watched as you two walked away, and he really did have a great time. He felt refreshed and relieved after talking to you, and he doesn’t remember the last time he’s had a decent conversation with someone without turning it into more that same day. 

Hopefully he will see you around. 

November 1st was your favorite. You started feeling the festive mood as it was getting closer and closer to the holidays. 

You and Pennie were out for a walk, and you offered to bring the stroller, but she shook her head, wanting to freely walk in the leaves. Taking the similar route as the night prior, you were hoping to see Harry. You were really infatuated with him, and you thought you two would be great friends, and maybe even more. 

Suddenly, Pennie let go of your hand and started running towards the familiar house from last night. She tan quite fast for a toddler, and you would have to ask her if she wanted to join track when she was older. 

“Penelope, get back here!” You chased after her, but it was too late when she slapped the door. You caught up to her and carried her. “Baby, please don’t run away from me like that again.” She said a soft ‘I’m sorry’ as you carried her off the walkway.

The door opened, revealing the familiar man. “Y/N? Pennie?” 

“I’m sorry! We were going for a walk and she ran away from me and ran here,” you said breathlessly, walking towards the front door again. 

Harry chuckled. “You wanna see Wynnie again, Pen?” Pennie’s eyes brightened at the sound of her friend’s name as she nodded. “Come on in!” 

“A-Are you sure?” You asked hesitantly. 

“Absolutely! We’re just cooking breakfast right now.” 

You two walked in slowly as Harry followed behind. You out Pennie down as she stayed close to you. When Harry shut the door, Pennie tugged on his pant leg. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He bent down, giving his attention. 

“Can I have another candy?” She asked shyly, and Harry smiled. 

“Penelope…” you said. 

“What? H-He gives the full size candy bars!” You and Harry laughed loudly. 

“We have extra, but only if mummy lets you.” Pennie looked up at you with a pouty face, and of course, you gave in. 

“Alright, alright. But you’re only eating it after dinner, and you only get three pieces,” you chuckled. The little girl started jumping up and down happily. Harry looked at the two of you and smiled fondly, loving the dynamic between you two. 

Maybe he did like Halloween after all. 

happy halloween! come into my inbox and let’s talk <3

[moondustis]

remember when (m)

pairing: jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, soulmate!au, rich kid!au, convenience marriage!au, hurt/comfort, college!au (more details + warnings after read more)  word count: 12,7k summary: A story about vulnerability and the lines we draw to avoid it. About soulmates, desires, setting yourself free. And, of course, a story about love and discovering exactly what it is. song recs: skin by mac miller and pure love by hayley williams 

warnings: there are some mentions of drug use, brief mention of mental issues, bad parenting. just overall some subjects that might not be comfortable to read like i usually put on my fics but it's nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing graphics happens!  disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. none of the events described are real or are an accurate representation of the people and brands named. 

a/n: i would like to thank mary (neostains) for requesting this fic and cami (caiuscassiuss) for helping me with some informations about how ivy leagues work lol. this is my longest work so far, i think, and it’s a very special one. i hope you guys enjoy it! 

✶

There was a time in your childhood where you remember being obsessed with princess movies. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, name a fairytale and you would have probably watched it a couple of times, entranced by the images playing on the newest television your father had bought.

Isn’t it fucked up that young girls are always fed this stereotypical image of love? It’s like a woman is not good for anything but to love someone, to be a half until she found the other and became whole. At 8 you ate that up like no one else.

At 11 your mother hires someone to give you a talk, about how the world worked and about the weird name that would appear in your arm once you turned 18. It feels like a lecture, the woman telling you about perfect matches, the probabilities of love and soulmates in a flat tone that didn’t make you feel as excited as you did watching the fairytales you used to like. When you tell your friends at school about it, they act surprised at the way you were told and instead, tell you about the stories about meeting your true love their own parents had shared.

At 15, your mother enrolls you in preparatory school, with full theatricals about intellects and getting into the best college possible so you can do your duty as heir of your father’s company when it becomes necessary.

It takes you a while, but you realize finally that love is nothing compared to money when you see for the first time that the name on your mother's wrist is not your fathers. Not long after that, you find out that for the sake of the company, you would be marrying Jung Jaehyun, heir of the second biggest automobilistic company in the country.

At 18 you think romance and love are trivial things.

⋄

NOVEMBER, 2013

It’s a harsh winter, one that makes your hands tremble and your head hurt more than usual.

You rub at your temples as you make your way down the hallway as students pass by you at the same pace as yours to get to their next class. A dreading routine, one that is so busy it leaves you with no time to think of anything else but the essay you have to write, or the grade you have been waiting to receive.

Today, though, your headache is so intense that your mind is filled with nothing but a black void.

Despite that, you walk in small steps to your literature lecture. Your bag feels as heavy as your head and the thick wool sweater you have on is barely enough to keep you warm, legs shivering from the stupid skirt they made you wear. Knee length, of course, but still a bother to sit and move.

Fuck boarding school, is what you think as you pass a group of boys talking loudly. One of them has a Harvard pin on his cardigan, you notice in the back of your mind. It only makes you feel sicker.

The first bell rings and you realize how slow you have been really walking. A faster pace, a muttered curse and then the second bells makes you feel like your ears are melting, headache increasing. Now you’re late, a rare occurrence that will probably not affect your records in any way, but still, makes you walk faster.

It all happens very fast. You turn into the corridor that leads to your classroom but not a second later you’re bumping straight into someone, books in your hand scattering to the floor and head spinning from the impact. It’s hard keeping your balance, but the harsh grip on your forearms helps and then you’re opening your eyes, that you didn't notice you had squeezed shut in the first place.

“Fuck, I’m really sorry.” The voice is familiar but the curse feels alien on your ears. Jung Jaehyun never curses, he has manners better than that. “I’m running late and walking too fast.”

He mumbles and you almost snort at the obviousness of it all. At the fact you were literally doing the same thing. “It’s okay. I should’ve been paying more attention.” There’s no reason for either of you to be apologizing, is what you think about as your hand immediately moves to your temple again in hopes pressing on it will cease the pain.

He’s looking right at you when you finally meet his eyes. His face is painted with embarrassment, the red hue on his ears a dead giveaway. He doesn’t keep eye contact for more than five second, instead moving to pick up your books for you. “Still, I’m very sorry.” He sounds polite, as always. The curse from before is still fresh on your mind.

You had met Jung Jaehyun at the age of 9, not that you remember exactly how it went. Some random brunch where you and him sat side by side as your mothers talked about whatever was happening seven years ago. You remember your old nanny being there, and how she asked sweetly if you would like more juice. You remember missing her when she got fired three weeks later for unrelated matters that were never told to you. And that’s about it.

After that, the years passed with Jaehyun being a weird presence in your life. The rich kids ran in the same circles, that didn’t take you a long time to realize and wherever you went he was there too.

German classes at 11, the birthday party of the daughter of someone you didn't know at 12, etiquette classes at 13. An event for your father's company at 14, one of his fathers at 15 and now at 16, attending the same boarding school and having to meet each other like this, with awkward smiles and polite conversation. Because navigating a relationship you didn't know the other very well, but too well at the same time was a weird thing to do.

Jung Jaehyun was like you, but at the same time he wasn't. You were friends but at the same time merely acquaintances.

But this you remember vividly: him asking you random things at german classes and making you laugh with his awkward pronunciation. Him eating cake by your side at the birthday party, covering his lips before he asked you if you like chocolate or vanilla more. Him making fun of you quietly for dropping down your fork loudly in the middle of etiquette class. Him standing awkwardly by your side while you got reprimanded by your mother during the event, for not properly remembering the name of a lady that came to greet you, your head down as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him.

And then, his father clapping yours on the back after they talked about how lovely it would be if someday the two of you got married to join economic forces. No, not someday. When you two got married.

You, pretending he didn't exist after that day, because you realized that this too you wouldn't get to decide.

Jaehyun clears his throat, hands you your books. “How is your father?” He asks, a stupid question to ask when you're both late. A stupid question to ask, period.

You try not to grimace. “He's okay. Alive.” And then he’s chuckling lowly, awkwardly.

“That’s good, no company to run at 16 then.” He tries to joke and it's amusing, in a way that for someone else might not be. But you two are the same, at least when it comes to this.

“And hopefully never.” A stupid thing to hope for, but still he smiles at you.

Then the moment is over, the third alarm sounds and both your eyes shoot open and you’re muttering goodbyes before heading to your classes.

Your head still hurts, but you don’t feel as cold anymore.

⋄

2015

Anticipation, isn’t that just a fancier word to describe the gut feeling that something is going to happen? Worst yet when you know exactly what it is, but have no possible ways of knowing the possible outcome.

There’s a window behind your advisor, with a view to the field where the lacrosse team practices. You watch it with a lack of interest as the older lady flips through pages and more pages of what is possibly your future.

No, not possibly. Definitely your future. Because at least to this, you knew the only outcome possible.

It’s a pretty day, one that shouldn’t be spent inside a room with wood furniture and shelves and more shelves of books, that are almost as many as the certificates on the wall. Not when it also happens to be your birthday.

“This is a really good essay, ___. You have a talent with words.” Your advisor breaks the silence in a flat voice despite it being a compliment. It makes your eyes immediately refocus on her but she gives you no time yet to reply. “I am sure the admission team will read it with interest.”

“Thank you.” A polite smile reaches your lips. She was never much of a praiser, not that she needed to be. Your last name carried all the confidence you needed to have for a thing like this.

And, perhaps the interest they would be having would be exactly about that. What does the only heir of the biggest automotive company in the country have to offer for Stanford? Probably a lot, with a weight that heavy on her shoulders.

“You have started applications to only two schools, are you sure you would not like to add more?” Now she says it in a weirdly soft tone. Persuasion, because it would look good for the school that one of their best students accepted to all the ivy leagues. Your GPA would make sure of that, but that's not all.

“I don’t see the point. Stanford has always been my only choice.” You say it as nicely as possible because this is an old conversation.

“I see, well. This is it then, there's a few other students interested in attending Stanford too." She smiles bitterly, gathering the papers and putting it back on their respective folders. "But the chances of you getting in are very good. I'm sure all your hard work will pay off.”

You go to thank her but at that moment there's a pinch on your arm that leaves you distracted. It's followed by a weird burning sensation that doesn't cease when you grip it underneath the table as gently as possible. If anything, the fabric of your cardigan only makes it worse.

She bids you your goodbyes, with pleasantries exchanged but when you reach the door to leave she interrupts. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, ____.” She smiles when you turn to thank her. “Please enjoy the rest of the day, turning 18 is very special.”

With a small bitter smile and promise to do so, you leave the room.

You reach your dorm room in no time, a stoic face on but with quick steps. And you try not to think about it, but the burning sensation on your arms continues.

It goes like this:

You close the door behind you gently, dropping your things down and immediately crumbling as you slide to the floor, unable to stand still anymore. You cry, for the second time today because birthdays were just not good. For about 10 minutes that's all that happens, your silent sobs and complete silence filling the room.

The burning in your arms stays there as a painful reminder and it tempts you to look, even though you know that the outcome didn't matter, not for you. Because behind blurry teary eyes you can see perfectly the image of your own mother's arm and the name of someone you didn't know, that she probably also didn't.

Because you are now 18 and you think romance and love are trivial things, that's all they could be.

You are now 18, and when you can't stand not knowing for another minute, you raise the sleeve of your cardigan and the name Jung Jaehyun is there on your wrist.

An ugly, incredulous laugh leaves your lips and soon turns into a sob. Of course it had to be him, you and Jung Jaehyun were tied to each other for a reason that was beyond fate.

You squeeze your eyes at the same time your hands squeeze your thighs, trying to get a grip. You calm yourself down, deep breaths in and out, your mind providing the good and the bad. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like a trick the universe was playing on you. One, it would be worse if another name appeared, a name that you would have to pretend didn't exist, because this was just another thing you didn't have a say in. This was supposed to happen anyway, maybe it was better this way.

Then your mind provides another thought that makes your mind swirl. Jung Jaehyun had turned 18 in February, your name had appeared on his arms months ago and he didn't say a word about it to you, or to anyone for all you know. Maybe he was pretending too, maybe he wanted more time thinking that at least this he would get to choose.

Well, whatever fairytale that had been created inside stupid minds, was gone now.

⋄

The whole thing is announced two weeks later, in a gossip magazine with information from an inside source. Information that is carefully crafted from a marketing team the moment you reveal the result.

A result, like a test had been applied and you got Jung Jaehyun for whatever reason.

You exchange pleasantries the next time you see him, no trace of being too young to know the rest of your lives already. You just look at each other in maybe defeat, while your families make a toast to celebrate a wedding to take place in a few years from now. A wedding that held meaning beyond the marks that tied the two of you. Destiny just helped a little bit, it was just a good excuse to justify a marriage that had been arranged ages ago.

A month later you get accepted to Stanford, of course you do. And your mother's smile is a loud reminder of every single time she called you and inquired about every grade, every step you made to make sure this happened and that it all happened accordingly.

It doesn't take you long to find out Jaehyun got accepted there too.

⋄

AUGUST 2016

The heels of your Miu Miu boots make small stomping noises on the wood floor sounds as you walk through shelves and shelves filled with books. It’s not a loud sound, probably only perceived by your own ears, and you let it distract you as you navigate the big corridors of the Green Library.

Stanford had made your eyes shine during your first visit and then for the first months of your freshman year. The thrill of finally experiencing something new and yet undiscovered carried on until it gave space to normalcy, another routine. But this time, a feeling blossomed inside your stomach with wanting to eat it up.

A feeling that died and resurrected every now and then, but you played it safe. Navigating it with baby steps with fear of what could happen if you strained a little too far from the line. And what could that be? A magazine spread on how a famous philanthropic's daughter parties too hard in college, with pictures of you doing a line on marble countertops?  A class failed and the disappointment on your mother's voice when she called you? A scandal about your night escapades? You didn’t want to find out just yet.

So you settle for your new routine, of going out every now and then with the roommates that you were about to consider friends. Pondering if it’s worth it to join another club, just to feel like there's something else that makes you feel excited. Coming to the library, studying to keep your mind busy because your thoughts were never up to no good.

And it's so easy, being busy like you always managed to, with assignments, and volunteering and maintaining a perfect GPA.

It's also easy to ignore Jung Jaehyun’s existence. Because this time, unlike in boarding school, the task is much simpler, since classes are filled with so many people that on the ones you shared with him you barely get a glance of his eyes. Because he ran around in circles that had nothing to do with yours.

It was always clear to you, since youth, that Jaehyun was a social butterfly that just needed a little pushing, and he was nice enough that people always wanted him near. A high contrast to your quietness and introverted ways, staying in small circles and almost never allowing people to get too close.

It's weird thinking about him, putting a face to the name that was forever marked on your skin as a reminder of your future. It was weird thinking that it was easy to ignore this feeling too, like all the other ones that you have kept away in your small little box. The feelings that came out at least once a year when it all became too much, and you would sit in a duvet to spill all the dead butterflies inside your stomach out on the floor of a therapy clinic.

But even like this, weirdness doesn't begin to cover the way sometimes you catch yourself thinking of a memory that involves him, random and unexpected. A moment shared before the two of you discovered what expected you, before destiny was revealed. And you don't pretend that it's not real, that you don't feel the longing and need to be close, that your skin doesn't tingle when you see him around campus. You were long past pretending now, because there was no reason to play dumb when sometimes all you had were your own thoughts to rot your brain.

What you were good at, though, was concealing it all.

Was Jaehyun good at that too? Now that's something that you think about more than you would like. It didn't help that sometimes you would bump into him out of nowhere.

You enter the marketing aisle, eyes fixed on the small numbers taped to each section in hopes that the book you need was still here. It takes you awhile to realize that there's someone else with you, only moving your head up when you hear the footsteps approaching.  

“Hi.” Jaehyun says, a small smile on his lips that is as gentle as every other thing about his looks. He stands close, but not too much. A safe distance for you to run your eyes through his body one time, eyes stopping at the big ‘S’ on his sweatshirt.

You clear your throat before greeting him back. “Hello.” Your voice is low, thoughtful of your surroundings, but you match his smile in a silent agreement of politeness.

His eyes run through your face the same way yours does his. Curiosity, or maybe the longing feeling you try to not think about. The unspoken space in between the two of you is intact for now.  

He has changed so much in a year, is what you always think about when you two get to see each other up close. It always made you feel a weird nostalgia, seeing a face you had known for so long but now feels a little out of reach because of your own stubbornness. Your own fears.

“What book are you looking for?” He asks after some time, making small talk.

You turn your eyes to the books, him following. “Uhm, Kotler.”

“Oh, of course. How is marketing going?” You almost laugh at his attempt to make conversation, a skill well acquired during etiquette class.

“It’s okay. Not regretting it yet.” A half lie. Maybe another thing you were keeping locked deep down, your dislike for your major. But thinking about that while having a conversation with your soulmate was far from something you wanted to do.

He hums amused, eyes still fixed on the shelf. “That's good.”

You finally find the book, leaning down to get it and hugging it to your chest as your mind searches for something to offer for your own piece of ice breaker. Then you remember seeing his face last week printed on a glossy paper, an intricate article on consumerism tendencies online besides it.

“Congrats on the publication.” You say, facing him again. It’s genuine, because you knew how things like that really mattered. Small things that were nowhere near the accomplishments expected of the two of you, but still something to be proud of.

He laughs lowly, with bashful manners of looking down to his feet and with ears turning red. “It’s just a campus magazine.” Because of course he would be humble, amongst all the other qualities you were well acquainted with. Deep down you know that it's just a reflection of the high expectations that have been set the moment he was born.

“Still, it was very well written. And everyone said it was impressive for a freshman.” Everyone being the friend that showed you the magazine, but you'll pretend for him that it was something more. To try and erase the feeling of not deserving something that probably runs through his mind.

You would crush it beneath your boots if you could, it's the weird thought that runs through yours.

He huffs. “Well, it’s Stanford. Hard to know what's gonna be impressive and what is just expected of you.”

“Good thing we are all promising young adults that don't need their egos to be fed, right?” You joke back and it makes him laugh a little too loudly, quickly stopping himself as you two exchange awkward but familiar glances with tiny smiles on your lips.

A moment of silence settles next, one that lasts only long enough for you to shift the weight from one leg to another. Then he's asking. “Are you… Are you doing something this weekend?”

“I’m expected at a company party.” You reply flatly, blinking twice but not really pondering the reasons for his curiosity. You two stare at each other for a second that passes quickly.

“The HSBC event?” He asks and you nod, expecting the words he says next. “Oh, I'll attend it as well.”

“Boring, huh?” An attempt to continue a conversation that should've ended by now.

“Yeah.” He looks at you, and then away, and then back at you. “I was thinking that we could have din-“

Footsteps interrupt his words and you look behind your shoulder to see who the newcomer is. A tall man, taller than Jaehyun even, smiles at you guiltily before he’s looking at Jaehyun and raising his brows. “We are late, dude.” He deadpans as you look between the two of them.

“Shit, I didn’t realize.” Jaehyun says in a groan, bringing his big watch to his face,  and you have to contain a smile at the curse. Then he turns to you. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

“It’s fine.” You mumble, the book still held tight against your chest.

He waves awkwardly as the other man throws you another smile. You watch them leave with trembling fingers.

⋄

DECEMBER 2017

December always made you feel a little weird. Blame it on the cold and the days spent in bed trying to get the warmth you craved. Or on the impending approach of winter break and having to deal with your parents and your obligations for the month to follow.

But you try not to think about that just yet, when the time comes you'll deal with it. That's what you always do. For now you let your bed swallow you as you scroll down mindless through your instagram feed, double tapping publications of past boarding school acquaintances smiling with the Harvard location attached to each picture, just like the brand names are attached to their clothes. It's a little pathetic to you that your own account looks the same, with pictures carefully picked with a marketing tactic in mind.

Your little distraction is interrupted when the door to your room opens and your roommate, Ela, walks in, clearly shivering from the cold even underneath her thick dark grey coat. “God, it's fucking freezing outside.” She mumbles as a greeting, removing her boots and setting it close to the door before draping her coat on her chair.

“How was the meeting?” You ask from under your blankets, laughing a little as she drops her things on her own bed. The question makes her sigh loudly.

“That dude is still an asshole.” The dude in question being her partner to a never ending project of rebranding that sometimes stressed even you, from how much she talked about it. “But we are almost done with it now.”

“That's good.”

She plops on her bed, across from yours and a comfortable silence settles for a moment as she probably tries to have a moment of calmness.

Ela was an old face on your life, having attended the same school but never really getting closer than knowing each other's name. Still, it was good that you got paired to dorm with her. A familiar face that became a friend of sorts, as the two of you built a relationship on things in common and the want to have someone you could trust in a new place. And she was different than you, more outgoing, had a liking for socializing that you could never match, but still understood you.

“Hey, did you finish that essay already?” She asks, turning her face to you.

“Yes, it was bitch to write.”

“And Kotler is super boring to read.” A sigh escapes her lips and you agree loudly because she's right. Sometimes, when you allowed yourself a moment of wishful thinking, you would wonder what it would be like to have a major that you didn't feel like your brain was melting from boredom when reading about.

“I'm really tired.” You reply, just to say something back.

“Same. Are you doing something for winter break?”

In your mind you know exactly what you'll be doing, a schedule even ready on your mind, but  instead you say “Not really, are you?”

She hums, voice tired but still excited as she goes on about how she wants to go to Europe again, visit Amsterdam because that was one of her favorite travel destinations. When you ask how it was, she describes in perfect detail, how the streets looked and how it felt very welcoming, telling you that you absolutely had to go there someday.

You promise to go and in the back of your mind you wish you could. Maybe you can if you can do more week hours on your internship and ask for a free week.

You shake your head at that though.

“Oh, I got this little get together today. At that bar downtown.. .Do you want to go?” You know she’s asking out of politeness, not because she didn't want you there but because you rarely said yes to her invitations.

But there’s a tiny spark on your chest, one that resembles the restless feeling you would get when you stayed too long laying down. It's not a motivation as much as it is boredom and the wish to feel something other than half emptiness. Other than the want to escape.

“Ok.” You say, shrugging slightly.

“Really?”

The raise of her brow makes you laugh. “Yeah, we are getting home next week. That's the last time I get to do this for a while.”

⋄

The bar is a little crowded, with winter break approaching and no one really daring step outside for a smoke because of how cold it is. The owners took great advantage of that by offering a ‘buy two get one free’ deal, that if you take a closer look at is really just a scam considering the price. But it's enough to fool college students that are excited about being away from this place for a while.

That’s what you think about after you down the remnants of the third drink you and your roommate shared. It’s not that kind of night, of getting wasted and not remembering anything the next day. It’s more of a little get together, for your roommate's club members and you are here merely as an intruder.

You feel just a little tipsy as you listen to her friends talk, some of them you knew from afar and some were just strangers that were nice enough to make you laugh every now and then. Still, you feel detached from the conversation, smiling and nodding when needing but not really taking part.

“What about you, ___?” A girl with round cheeks and pretty eyes asks you regarding your vacation plans. “You gotta invite us if you are throwing a party.”

You scoff before you can catch yourself. Alcohol always drops your inhibitions a little, but still you are quick to cover it up. You laugh along with the others, promising to invite everyone even though you are not throwing any parties, most likely never.

You roommate looks at you from the corner of her eye, smiling sympathetically because she knows you, and knows how stupid her friends are, but it's fine. You just wish you could just take it easily, the interest, the wanting to get close so they too will appear in a gossip magazine and live the life they think you do, without wanting to tell them to get a fucking life already, because this is just pathetic.

You smile back at her, wishing for another drink as your thigh highs start to roll a little uncomfortably. Shifting from leg to leg does nothing to help it, so you try to push the little annoyance to the back of your mind.

The small groups divide in different topics over the time, and you find yourself talking to some guy you had never seen before, that goes on and on about his amazing business ideas and how successful it's going to be when he finds the right stakeholders. You nod and try to focus through the whole thing.

The rest of the night goes like that. Fake laughter, loud music and conversation that gets more boring as the clock ticks, so you find an escape excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, not because you need to but to get away for a second.

In retrospect maybe it would've been better to endure another discussion about LA clubs and entrepreneurship.

The bar is so crowded that you have to excuse yourself at least five times, and on the sixth one you end up bumping into someone.

“Oh.” Is the clever thing you say when your eyes are met with Jaehyun already looking at you, his eyes lower than usual from probably taking advantage of the drink deal like you had.

He looks relaxed, hair parted in a way that shows his forehead and an all black outfit that doesn’t look as expensive as it probably is, but he makes it work so well that you do a double look while in your hazy state. If he notices, he doesn’t show it by the way he keeps his smile unfazed at you.

“We gotta stop seeing each other by accident,” he says, laughing a little.

“Yeah.” His words take a little to digest so you keep looking at him for a beat of a second. It’s a first, seeing him in a place like this. Where you can see just how well he really can adjust to any setting. He fits right in with the low lights and the relaxed atmosphere.

“This is Johnny.” He gestures for the guy besides him, who turns his attention to you and smiles in a way that’s a little familiar. Then you realize he’s the guy from the library over a year ago, and the friend Jaehyun posted pictures every now and then on his instagram page.

“Hey, It’s nice to meet you.” Johnny says, same smile from before still on and you return it. “Have heard a lot about you.”

That makes you laugh, a mixture of confusion and excitement and politeness that confuses even yourself. “Good things I hope.”

He tilts his head playfully. “Only the best things you can hear in place like this.”

The three of you share smiles, the interaction then turning into a conversation promoted by a question you ask, both from wanting to have something to say and out of curiosity. Johnny does most of the talking, explaining how he and Jaehyun had been friends for a while but only got closer now that they are attending the same university. They share a story of something that happened, them buying each other the same thing for christmas and you listen to the whole thing entranced.

It’s weird in some way how you can learn so much from your own soulmate from someone else. And it's weird how you react with joy, perhaps, to the teasing Johnny does to Jaehyun so naturally.

When the conversation settles down, Johnny looks between the two of you for a few seconds before he’s excusing himself to find an unnamed person. It was predictable he would do that, with the way he kept aiming the conversation to make it about Jaehyun, as if he somehow had to wing his friend to you.

You stare at your shoes, unsure of what to say now and maybe too worn out from the whole night to come up with something to talk about. But you don’t have to, because soon he’s asking  “Are you here alone?”

You look up, a tiny smile on your lips. “No, I came with my roommate. But she's with her friends.”

“Oh, I’ll keep you company then.” He offers and you nod, following him to the bar where it's more illuminated and you can both lean a little on the counter.

Jaehyun is good at making people feel comfortable, you had noticed that many times before and it's no surprise when he asks you about your roommate, about what songs you have been listening to lately. He tries to keep a conversation with ease, even if it stays in the usual surface you two are used to.

If you weren't so distracted by everything, your mind would probably offer that it feels a lot like when you were kids and standing in the corner of a ballroom in uncomfortable clothes, talking about things that didn't matter.

“Have you ever been to Amsterdam?” You ask him suddenly when the past topic dies down.

“Yeah, it's really nice there.”

You hum, remembering your roommate's words. “That’s cool, I really want to go there someday.”

Out of nowhere he starts laughing a little, as if you had said something funny. When you inquire about it, he shakes his head clearly amused by the way his eyes squint a little from his smile. “It's just… Don’t you think it's weird that we have known each other for all these years, and all we do is do this weird small talk?”

You laugh too, speaking before you can stop yourself. “And still for some reason I feel like I know you.”

His eyebrows raise for a second but his smile is unfaltering, your statement not bothering him.  “You know me.” He says, as a matter of fact. “And I know you.”

Now this makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn't last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that it's true, you know him and he knows you. Not everything, but what would be the fun in that.

Maybe that's why the two of you kept doing this small talk, to get to know each other better even in the smallest things. That's what getting to know someone is, after all. Not the business interviews and networking you grew up with.

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “What is your favorite thing about me then?” It's what you ask, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. Or because you actually want to know, out of curiosity or vanity.

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face as if in deep thought, before he replies. “I like that you are smart.”

The simplicity of it makes you snort. “Please, that's a cliche thing to say in a place like this.” You say, mimicking the words his friend had said to you earlier. “What does that even mean?”

“I don't know.” He shrugs while laughing, “Johnny just says things like that sometimes.”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you turn on the counter to stare forward. Your roommate is on the opposite side of yours, leaning against a wall while talking to a girl taller than her but just as pretty. The view makes a tiny smile settle on your lips, the beginning of a spark on your chest.

It always amazed you how people who didn't know their soulmate yet continued to live on, simply letting the universe do its thing naturally. In your young mind you had always thought that love was supposed to be a yearning that you couldn't control, that you would have to be with the person you love no matter what, and do anything to find them. That had changed now.

You turn to Jaehyun again. “What would you say is your favorite thing about me then, if we didn't know each other already?” You ask. It's a weird question because it makes him raise one eyebrow at you, but there's still not a trace of annoyance on his face.

“Isn't that also cliche to say?” He huffs. “That you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen?”

You can't help the embarrassed laugh that leaves your parted lips in shock. “Are you flirting with me?”

His ear gets an incredible red shade and you find it extremely charming. “It's just the truth.” He defends himself and it only makes you giggle more.

You thank him, tell him that you think he’s pretty too and correct it to handsome when he raises one eyebrow again. It makes a nice atmosphere settle and you feel comfortable enough to ask “So... if we didn't know each other you would flirt with me at a random party? Buy me a drink and all that?”

He smiles, dimples showing while he brushes his hair back. It's not the first time, of course, but you find yourself a little in awe at how pretty he actually is. Pretty in a way that makes you feel a little out of it, stunned by the way his lips start forming his next words.  

“What do you like to drink?” He asks casually.

Now it's your turn to raise one eyebrow. “Hmm, I like Moscow Mules.”

You watch as he turns to the bar, calling the waiter over and ordering two drinks of your said preference. The mixture of feelings on your chest make you feel drunker than you did before and you wish you could put a name to it. Excitement, amusement, whatever it is only increases when he looks at you again.

“I’m Jung Jaehyun, by the way.” He offers, smiling sweetly and you match it when you realize what he's playing at

“I’m _____. It's nice to meet you.”

⋄

Playing pretend with him is easy, even more when the drinks make your inhibitions fall completely. Jaehyun tells a joke and you lean forward a little. Then you talk about something and he comes closer as if to hear better. Another drink and plenty of silly conversation later, he's completely invading your space in a way that you don't feel slightly bothered by.  

Not even when leans to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You leave the bar giggling like the two mildly drunk people you are, basking in the joy of it and of the little fantasy you two have created. Jaehyun keeps you close, your hands linked and it's such a nice feeling that you get even more overwhelmed in a good way. The two of you walk almost glued to each other basically skipping and muttering playfully things just to say something.

When you are near the dorm complex, he stops abruptly and when you turn to him, his hands find your cheeks and his eyes search yours for a brief moment before he’s bringing your face closer to his.

It's a sweet kiss, contrary to what you thought it would be when you allowed yourself to think about this. You had always imagined desperation, not being able to endure not doing it anymore. But the reality is that Jaehyun kisses you with delicacy and  even if there is desperation to it, it's not in a way that overpowers anything else. But in a way that makes you moan lowly, makes you press him even closer by grabbing his shirt as he moves his lips slowly against yours.

There are no fireworks, no deep realization that you are kissing the person you are meant to be with for the rest of your life. But it's good, makes you want more, makes you want to bring him closer than possible, and maybe that's proof enough.

You reach his dorm in a blink after that, him having a bit of a hard time opening the door but when he does it takes no time for you to be pressed to it.

For a moment he just looks at you, eyes hazy and shining. They run through your face the same way yours does his, with longing that is finally allowed. You try to quiet the way your heart beats by leaning forward and kissing him.

The kiss is hungry but never too fast, with his hands moving to your hips and you pulling on his lips. When you moan a little at the feel, he opens his mouth a little, sliding his tongue against yours and you swear at yourself for waiting so long. Swear that you will never get enough of this.

Your lips move together in a way that is proof enough to you that this is something else even in your drunk state. His lips are soft, tongue moving with yours as if he wants to take his time and when your hands move from his shoulders to his neck he  shudders, parting from you with a wet sound.

“W-We should...” He murmurs against your lip and you nod before he even finishes, letting him lead you to his bed. It feels a lot like yours, and the rest of the room is just as familiar but you pay no attention to that when he lays you on it gently.

It’s no surprise that Jaehyun is a giving lover and you figure that out when he kisses you like he wants to find out exactly what you like. Exactly how to make you fall apart in his hands.

He does everything with an expertise that maybe should make you feel jealous, but out of all things you are, a hypocrite is not one of them. So he shows you what he has learn from other people, and you show him what you have

And he doesn't settle for anything less than kissing all over your body after the two of you get undressed. For less than telling you in whispered words that he has dreamed about this before so many times and immediately swallowing with his tongue the words you would never be able to let out.

That you had dreamed about this too.  Dreamed about coming on his tongue as he eats you out, your hands grabbing at his hair and seeing stars. A giving lover, of the best kind,  Even more when he asks, with his mouth shining with your arousal. “How do you want it?”

You blink as your mind spins with the endless possibilities, but the ultimate realization that you would have him any way.  You decide on the one that gives you more control. “I… I want to ride you.”

He bites his lips, ears burning red again. “Yeah,” His words come out mumbles as he just looks at you for a second before moving to lay on his back. “Yeah, ok. Fuck.”

You straddle his hips after he rolls down the condom, his eyes looking up at you in what you think is adoration, pure desire. And then you kiss him again, all tongue but still slow. So deep that you think you’ll never forget what he tastes like.

He lets you sink down at your own pace, palms on your ass when you move slowly, feeling him stretch you with every inch you sit on. He hums, hands tracing your skin delicately and it only makes it so much worse.

You move, a grind at first testing the water and immediately crying out lowly from the friction and you look for support with nails grabbing at his chest. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Good?” A stupid question to ask with the way you are so wet around him that the room is filled with a squelching sound when you move up and down with all the patience in the world.

Still, you nod. “You feel - Fuck - really good.”

He looks down at where you’re connected, biting his lips to suppress the noises you want him to let out so you move your hips with purpose, eyes roaming his face to watch it contort in pleasure as he lets out the prettiest moan you have ever heard. Low and deep.

His hands move further down then, gripping your hips and moving you in a grind that feels too good. So good that you have to drop your arms to his chest for leverage as he moves you to his liking, pushing your hips back and forth.

You come with your back arching, long moan of his name as your entire body shakes and tingles and you have to grip at the sheets beside you for support. You try to keep moving as your orgasm washes over you but its too much and your walls clenching around his cock  makes him grip your ass even tighter, the action sending a thrill down your body as you fall forward on his chest with a wail.

Your mind swims in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun.

He waits for a second, hand moving to your back as your body trembles, drawing calming circles on it. When you have calmed down, he plants his feet on the bed and starts moving his hips up slowly and patiently but with deep strokes that make you bite your lip with oversensitivity.

And when you can, you move your head up, balancing yourself on your arms and looking at him. He wastes no time in kissing you, not deep because he parts his lips in a groan during a particular stroke, speeding his movements and grunting when you try to meet them back.

It’s when he has had enough, that he pulls out only to turn you on your back so he can enter you more easily, his hips now meeting yours in a pace that tells you that he’s close.

“Jae, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He looks proud of being able to get you like this.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Deep?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you in the brink of another orgasm. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again, stars behind your eyelids.

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally releasing inside the condom.    

He pulls out, breath heavy as he smiles at you falling putty on the bed and watching as he removes the condom and disposes it only to come quickly to the bed quickly.

He hovers over you, kissing you sweetly. Your arms find his shoulders easily as the two of you bask in the afterglow of it.

Then he kisses you again, tongues dancing together and you don’t mind when his hand starts to wander again, sending goosebumps to your body. His fingers find your clit with ease, circling it slowly before applying more pressure as your lips part and your hand grip his arm, for support and not to cut the actions.

You come again, not as strong as your first one but still enough to have you shaking a little and screaming silently. His finger stays at your clit, hovering until he asks again in a whisper. “Another?”

You nod, and he resumes his actions slowly, until you are seeing starts and he swallows your moans with kisses and stops your trembling with soft hands grounding you.

When you recover your breath, an incredulous laughter leaves your lips. “You’re insane.” He just smiles, nose brushing against yours.  “God, I...I gotta clean up now.”

He moves to get up. “Yeah sure, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

You end up cleaning together, a shower that doesn't take you long, even if it's hard to keep your hands to yourselves but you are both tired, feeling a little drained after the glow has gone away.

⋄

Afterwards, you are laying on his bed side by side, surrounded by the smell of his body wash and wearing the big t-shirt and sweatpants he offered you.

Your mind starts wandering lazily with the remnants of your high, that's why the words escape your mouth without much thought. “Isn't it weird that even if we have someone in the world meant for us we can still feel lonely?” You are not lonely right now, not really. Maybe it's just the sadness of winter speaking, or maybe you're still a little drunk.

He takes a second to reply, voice low when he does. “Yeah. But you don't have to.” He says.“ Feel lonely, I mean. You don't have to.”

It's a little funny how he feels the need to explain himself to you, as if you don't quite understand him when the reality it's both very far from that and exactly it at the same time.

“I don't think thats how it works. It's not up to me.” If it was, wouldn't you have stopped being lonely by now? Wouldn't you have finally succumbed to the desperate need of wanting someone, something, when late night hit and the mark in your arm would burn just as your eyes as you fought back tears?

Still, he says simply. “I think it is.”

You smile sadly then, turning to him a little and watching as he kept his gaze on the ceiling. He looked relaxed, as if this setting was soothing his mind and it makes a familiar feeling blossom on your chest.  “What did you feel when the mark showed up on your arm?” A question that you had wanted to ask the moment you found out it was him, but instead had failed miserably to guess the answer to.

“Relief.” He says without thinking, a truthful and genuine reply.

“That you wouldn't have to end up marrying someone that wasn't your soulmate?” You ask. All these years you had thought that this must've been it, what you felt that day.

“No. I was relieved that it was you anyway.” Is his reply, body turning and eyes meeting yours. For a second you’re frozen, blinking because it’s strange to have someone put their feelings out so easily.

“Is… Is that what love is, then?” You ask softly. “Relief that you have at least one person that makes you feel held?”

Maybe this is not really what he meant,  and more so wishful thinking of your part than anything else, but still he nods.

“I think it’s that. And other things.” His voice is soft when he says this. “I'm not sure what it is, but I want to find out.”

You can’t help as you examine his face after his confession. Is this what being soulmates is, then? Having someone that it's worth taking the risk of finding out? Or maybe it’s having someone that will show you exactly what it is.

Does all that explain the way you can't look away from him?

“Me neither.” You reply in the same quiet voice because it’s true. You tend to act like you know everything, and that you know what love is. You know love it’s pathetic and that it gets in the way of things, but is it really that bad? So you ask “Is it bad that I think you'll only love me because the mark on your arm tells you to?”

He laughs briefly. “No, it makes sense.” His eyes find yours again. “But you know it’s not, don't you?”

“I do.” At least you do now.

Maybe that's why you fall asleep so easily

⋄

2014 (flashback)

It’s the last day before summer break and Jaehyun is tired.

The other four guys he shared a room with are all packing their things for a nice vacation somewhere in Europe or one of the paradisiac beaches they all like to talk about. Jaehyun just wants to get home, not think about college applications for two months and maybe go somewhere he can be alone for a while.

“Sooyoung is kinda hot, huh?”  Yugyeom says out of nowhere and the room settles in a unison hum of agreement. He joins in too.

There’s a loud creak noise as another one of his roommates slumps into the bed but he doesn't bother checking who it is, mind somewhere else as he stares at the ceiling.

“True. But I would die if Ela gave me her number.” Jungkook sighs dreamily and Jaehyun can't help the snort that escapes his lips. Just yesterday they had a conversation exactly like this one, but not quite as innocent. Trust a group of men that have no idea who their roommates are to act like this.

Even though Doyoung, the only one of them that already knew, still acted the same when it came to this. His soulmate isn't someone he knew already, so what was the point in waiting. That's why he asks the next question. “Jaehyun, you know ___, right? Does she stick to the whole ‘waiting’ thing?”

Jaehyun blinks, shifts almost unnoticeable. “I don't know her like that.” Is what he says, which is a half true. He knows her, probably things no one else knows but that’s what happens when you grow up in the same circles, he guesses. Right now though, he feels like he doesn’t know her anymore, not with the distance she had put between them after the wedding was announced by your parents.

Then, he starts thinking about himself. Is he waiting for his soulmate? He has kissed some girls, but it never went beyond that. But now he remembers coming home from german class one day and his mother making soft cake as she told him about the name that would appear on his wrist.

He remembers that he had said loudly that he wished ____ would be his name, because then they could be better friends for some reason as silly as playing around together.

Sicheng interrupts his thoughts by snorting loudly. “Are you really trying to hit?” He asks Doyoung. “Gonna end up in the cover of a magazine for trying to corrupt the nation’s good girl.”

The room erupts in laughter and comments after that. He drowns it with his mind going somewhere else.

That night he dreams about her.

⋄

10, FEBRUARY 2018

Winter break goes by quickly with one too many end of the year celebration and wishing people you had never seen before a happy new year.

You spend your days fulfilling your internship at the company you would one day own, following around the superiors for the Marketing team and playing nice when they try to flatter you.

So busy that you can barely think about it, but you still do. You think about him so often that you think you have lost your mind.  And you see Jung Jaehyun too, here and there at parties, between whiskey glasses, tuxedos and unspoken words. Because, as you always thought, keeping it all unsaid is easier. At least for now.

Perhaps he knows it all, in a different way than you. So the two of you kept it lowkey, for the duration of those two months that are now gone with the wind. Two months of not a single magazine spread on your escapades, or you parents mentioning anything that is out of the ordinary.

It's as if the two of you have a secret, that some may assume, but still don't know for sure. What you and Jaehyun did that night is kept inside a locked box, one that you share with him and that every moment until now seems to fit in. What you don't know is if he too keeps the box as sacred as you do.

What you don't know is if the thought of it being opened by prying eyes scares him too.

Being back to campus is, ironically, a breath of fresh air. No more business meetings disguised as family celebrations, or stupid networking, or smiling for a camera to say that the company has never been better. No more internship and lack of time for something else.

February comes and it's just you, your dorm bed and the roommate you will miss when it's time. Just the lectures and keeping busy and trying not to think about things only to fail miserably.

But then, there are the phone calls, never ending and always the same. Or almost always.

The phone lights up, stupid ringtone, and your heart starts beating a little faster. How could someone ever guess what a phone call is about?  Not having control made you antsy.

Your mother greets you as always, stern words, asking how you have been out of politeness. You spend the entire phone call waiting for her to just say what she wants to already.

She mentions being busy, good opportunities, of an article you should read and something that sounds like a threat if you let yourself slip and get a scandal, even though she has said all this not long ago after gifting you another piece of jewelry you’ll keep stored deep in your drawer.

At least this time it doesn't take long for her to finally say what she wants. “Jaehyun’s birthday is soon. Don't forget to greet him.”

“I won't.” You reply simply but she’s quick to cut you off.

“Publicly. Maybe sending flowers would be good, or buying something that can get attention from the press.” It’s obvious this is not about you and your soulmate, it’s about you and your future. As everything is.

“Ok.”

“Just because he's your soulmate doesn't mean people will connect you two together forever.” She continues, never knowing when to stop. “You have to remind them of that.”

“I know that.” Because you do. There was no guarantee that your marriage with Jaehyun would be good publicity if the two of you weren’t liked or even popular.

You fear that when the time comes, people will realize something you yourself already has. That maybe you don’t really deserve Jaehyun, not because he’s better than you, but because you are not sure you can give him the love he deserves.

What you don't know clearly yet, is that you’re selfish and want him anyway.

“Good.” Your mother says and then the line cuts.

One time a therapist told you that maybe your mother was jealous. Because you would get to experience something she didn't, being with your soulmate, and that it was normal. It didn't mean she was evil and hated you. Another one said that that was the reason she was so stern, she wanted to keep you in line to prevent you from failure so as to not hurt you. That, behind the lack of affection, was a wish for your happiness.

Maybe there will be a time you understand that plenty. Maybe some things can never be truly fixed, only forgotten.

Four days days after that, you text Jaehyun a simple happy birthday with a heart at the end of it. You also get a chocolate cake sent to his place from a bakery you like, and when he calls to thank you, you tell him to not post it anywhere.

He laughs and tells you that it's a good idea.

⋄

2007 (flashback)

It was another late afternoon party, for another thing that you couldn’t remember or care about because things like this shouldn't really matter when you are only ten years old. Still, you had watched the other kids play with each other as their parents talked business and laughed, drunk from the bubbly drinks they downed glass after glass of.

For a moment you felt like reaching out and playing with them too, but it died soon and you stayed unmoving on the chair you had been placed in, while your parents did the same as the others somewhere in the distance.

It had been a pretty day, you remember, the sun was about to set and it made the shiny fabric on the tablecloths that were spread around the individual tables set outside, sparkle just the tiniest bit. You played with it to have something to distract yourself with.

You remember too, that Jung Jaehyun and his family were at the table right in front of yours, your parents greeting each other and talking briefly. Later on the party you had watched as he listened to something his mother said to him. She was beautiful, like your own mother, and you had heard her voice before so it had been easy to imagine in what tone she was speaking. Soft and low, how warmth felt like. As to the content of her words you would never know, but it had clearly been something nice because it made her son laugh as she patted his head.

You didn’t know back then that this moment would stick with you for the years to come, for a reason that at ten years old you were just beginning to understand. But still, the weird twist in your stomach, as you started to realize that something was wrong, would be felt many more times. As you realized that your family dynamics were not as warm as the others appeared to be.

⋄

25, FEBRUARY 2018

What you and Jaehyun have turns into something hard to describe.

The line you had so clearly put between the two of you, to avoid your future, had been replaced now by acceptance and the weird feeling of navigating a relationship that It’s still a new thing, but it’s also nice enough. Especially when he sends you a silly text and jokes about something, later on commenting the same thing on one of your instagram posts. It makes you feel giddy, that you have a shared secret.

Even more when he gives you a small knowing smile across the table while your father is non stop talking about the new model the company is about to release.

It’s a small dinner to celebrate Jaehyun’s birthday, or at least as small it can be in a restaurant like this, where the waiter will look you up and down if you are not wearing your prettiest silk dress and stiletto heels.

The whole thing had been rescheduled twice, because of busy schedules and whatnot, and now that both your parents had been able to fly here, you all sit underneath lowlights and drink expensive wine that is accompanied by a conversation that is so boring that you have trouble keeping up with it.

He finds you on the rooftop, hair blowing a little as he walks to you and in the back of your mind you think it’s a crime that he looks this good in a suit. That’s probably all the wine you had talking.

“Sorry I left you alone there.” You mutter with a sympathetic smile thrown his way when he reaches you, but you both know you are not sorry at all for escaping the stupid conversation your parents were having.

He chuckles. “You leaving was just a reason for me to escape too.”

The two of you turn to look at the city, the illuminated buildings looking minuscule from here but the tiny lights from each of them make for a breathtaking view. Jaehyun stands so close to you that your arms touch. You don’t mind.

“Looking at the city like that makes me feel really small.” You whisper, without really thinking.

“That’s because we are.” You hear his voice clearly, warm like honey and you don’t try to help the smile that forms in your lips.

“How do you do it?” The question makes him look at you, raising one eyebrow. “I mean, you always sound like you got it all figured out. While I just say the most random stuff because I don’t know who I am.”

You know you are the heritage left to you, the face of your father's company, a good student, smart. One of the few socialites that have never stepped a foot out of line, according to the magazines. But take all that and what’s left?

“I don't.” He says simply, “I’m just good at pretending, like you are.”

That makes you laugh. “Good to know we are both good at playing our roles.” You say, as a joke, because you are sure the two of you are beyond the acting now.

And It’s always funny to you how the masks the both of you put on fall completely when you are alone. That’s what it means to be friends, you had realized, and that’s what you decide to call your relationship for now. Friends, from a long time, that happened to be tied together for other reasons.

And Jaehyun is a friend that sometimes makes you feel like you deserve the love you crave.

“Hey. You are ____.” He says after a second, for good measure. “That's enough, you don't have to be anything else.”

“Is it enough for you?” You ask without really thinking.

He smiles, dimples showing and your heart grows warmer. “Yeah, and we can figure it out together. Who we are and all that.”

You share a smile, both staring forward at the view and shivering a little from the night wind.

“I’m sorry for getting you into these deep conversations.”

He laughs deeply at that, with his whole body. “It’s good, don’t worry. I want you to trust me, even if you won't let me get to know you.” And you do, you want to desperately trust him and let him in. ”Because you are scared I can't handle your daddy issues or something.”

A scoff mixed with laughter leaves your lips. It’s been a long time since you were able to joke about this with someone. “It’s mommy issues, please get it right.”

He turns to you with a silly smile on his lips. “Is it because she made you take those piano classes?” He jokes and you laugh before tilting your head.

“Wait, how did you know I played the piano?” That was ages ago, finally a hobby that you enjoyed amongst the numerous other classes your mother had enrolled you in. You played it for a long time before you stopped completely for whatever reason.

“You told me, when we had to introduce ourselves and talk about things we liked in german class.” He explains. “You said you liked it, even though your mother forced you to go.”

You turn to him now as it strikes you that Jung Jaehyun remembered you from his childhood the same way you remembered him. Not the same things, but still memories. The thought is so comforting that you can’t hold the way your cheeks move up in a smile.

“What about you?” You question. “What things did you say you liked?”

“Hmm, I don't really remember.” Is what he says with a shrug.

You two share a look, perhaps meaningful but maybe that's the wine making you feel on cloud 9 under his gaze.  “What do you like now?”

He chuckles as if your interest is amusing. “I like… music, getting coffee with friends. That kind of thing.”

“Not cars?” You joke, making him laugh. You decide then that you like making him do it.

“I mean, a little.” He replies playfully, and it’s very easy to be comfortable like this.

It’s good to know after all this time Jaehyun was like you, even if you felt alone in the world sometimes. That’s what a soulmate must be after all, not the missing piece to make you whole but someone that makes you realize exactly that you don't have to be.

“We should get coffee together sometime.” You offer after some time, a gentle smile being shared between you two in laziness, at the thought of soon having to return to the restaurant and popping out of the bubble you have started creating for yourself.

“We should.” He says, and the bubble stays afloat a little longer.

⋄

JULY 2019

It’s another charity Gala, with sparkly lights, champagne, fake smiles and a dress too tight. Everything is the way it always had been, except for you.

And Jaehyun, whose hand stays on your waist as he guides you through a slow song. He had wanted to dance, said he always thought it was nice when lovers did it in movies.

Lovers. The mere use of the word had made your heart somersault in your chest, but you kept it down. Instead, you move with him with soft smiles adorning both of your faces.

Your hand finds his cheeks. Nothing could describe the look you give him in the light but pure admiration. And you don’t care if anyone sees it,  you don’t care if it ends up in a magazine spread. Because even if everybody knew about it, this is yours.

The way he brings his hand on top of yours, and how his eyes match the exact look on yours. Every little detail about it makes you know that this right here belongs to the two of you and nothing can change it.

“Jaehyun?” Your voice is low, almost inaudible underneath the music and conversation echoing through the ballroom. “I don't want to be here anymore.”

His eyebrows raise at your confession, steps faltering for a second as he loses the rhythm “What? We can leave right now if you want.” He offers. “I came with my own car, so we can-“

Your soft laughter interrupts his words. “No, I don't mean right now.” You explain, swallowing around your next words. “I meant.. I don't want to keep playing a role, I want to go somewhere with you where no one knows us.”

A smile grows on his lips, one that tells you that he understands exactly what you mean. And you don’t have to guess anymore, there are no more maybes. You know.

“Okay, we can do that.”

He pulls you closer, dance now long forgotten as you just move in complete muscle memory.

“I want to find out.” You confess in a whisper. A secret between the two of you that no one else would ever know.  “I want to go somewhere with you and find out.”

You wonder if he already found the answer to it, to what love is. But you also don't need to know right now, because you will know when you have to. Either way you want to find out  and it's not for you to guess.

He smiles genuinely at you, with his dimples showing, like he always smiles at you.

You smile back, heart aching from something that can only be only be explained by years of shared stories, and in your mind, deeper connections that go beyond what everything and everyone inside this ballroom would understand.

You smile back, in the exact way you have always smiled at him.

⋄

APRIL 2020

A ray of sun peeks from the half closed curtains and set right above your eyes, getting you to wake up lazily and slowly. It takes you a while to come to it, the sheets on the bed just now starting to feel truly familiar with the warmth left on the bed, from someone that had probably gotten up just a little before from you.

You blink once and twice before your eyes are completely open, vision still unfocused but it slowly comes back as you stare at the bedside table. A lip balm is the first thing you see, then your phone and lastly a picture framed of you and Jaehyun hugging in front of the sunflower field at the Van Gogh museum. He’s laughing, at something said by the kind fellow tourist that had offered to take your picture, and you have the beginning of a smile on your own lips. One that you mimic perfectly now as you remember that day.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the door opening and Jaehyun walks in the bedroom, holding a bowl. His eyes are still drowsy and his hair a mess but you  think he looks right at home. Because he is.

“Morning, baby.” His voice is low and raspy, but enough to make you melt even more on the sheets.

“Good morning.” The smile settles fully on your lips now.

He sits on the bed next to you then, almost drowning inside his large t-shirt and hair plopping cutely when he tries moving even closer to place the bowl with sliced fruits on your lap. “We gotta add apples to the shopping list.” Is all he says and you nod while picking a slice of melon and chewing it leisurely as you bask on the hazy feeling of still being half asleep

Jaehyun stays by your side, head weirdly pressed to your chest, and asking silently for you to feed him apple slices every now and then with just his mouth opening.

Your mind wanders as you eat and then you’re having one of those moments where realization dawns on you finally. A silly small thing that makes you smile and your chest grow warm. “Jaehyun?” You call out softly, fighting back the bubble of happiness that forms on your chest because old habits are hard to die.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, eyes blinking at you in the same way he always does, but this time it makes you want to cry a little bit.

You lean down, press a quick peck to his lips that make you both smile and then the words are out of your mouth.

“This is what love is.”

[redhoodieone]

Welcome Home

A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language and Smut.

  I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.

It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…

I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.

But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.

Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).

Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.

I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.

I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?

Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.

As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:

Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.

Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).

Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…

But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?

I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.

I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.

I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?

After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?

I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.

 Dear Lady Y/N,

I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.

I dearly love you and the boys,

 Love Alfred Pennyworth

P.S.

Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.

 I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.

“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”

“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.

“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”

His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.

“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”

Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.

“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.

“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.

“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.

“Was he any good?”

Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.

“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.

“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”

I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.

I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.

“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.

“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.

Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.

“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.

“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.

“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”

“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.

I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?

The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”

“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.

“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.

“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.

Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.

Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.

“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.

“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.

I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.

[5thmarauderwrites]

Apps, Texts & Wizardry — The Marauders x Reader | Request.

Requests are: OPEN.

Requested by Anonymous: “Helooo💛 could you write a modern au where the reader is teaching the marauders how to use tech? Have a nice day :)“.

Pairing: The Marauders x Fem!Reader [platonic].

Word Count: 2,4K

Warnings: None, it’s basically all fun and teasing and friends being friends.

A/N: Hope you like this! I had to refrain myself from the dialogues a bit because i had lots of fun remarks and teasing moments in my head as i imagined how the teaching process would be, so it would end up being very, very long if i hand’t stopped myself. Also the title SUCKS because i literally couldn’t think about anything good.

“L/N!” James yelled your last name in the middle of the library, shaking a brand new smartphone clutched in his hand; Sirius and Peter on his trail. Remus walked a little further, an apologetic frown on his features as he looked at you.

“Potter!” Madam Pince shrieked. “Out! Now!”

“But I’ve just got here!” The boy with unruly black hair protested.

“I do not care! Screams and loud tones of voice are strictly forbidden in my library! Go on – out! Out before I hex you!” The witch brandished her feather duster at the boy as she gesticulated for him to leave.

James grimaced, pushing his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose, “I just need to talk to my friend, please! She’s right there!” He pointed to you, who watched the unfolding scene with a look of pure terror, in fear that Madam Pince would banish you from the library for good after James’ antics.

Madame Pince sent you a death glare before turning back to the Marauders with a fulminant look on her face, “out, all of you! NOW!”

“We haven’t even done anything!” Sirius shrugged with a frown, trying to defend himself.

The older witch gave them a last warning glare and, getting the message; Remus mumbled an apology and dragged the other three boys out of the room. Madam Pince waited until they were completely off the library’s limits to walk angrily to the table you were sharing with Lily, Marlene and Alice in the quieter corner of the study room.

“L/N!” She spat as she approached your table. “You know you’re one of the few students that I actually tolerate in this school, but this better not happen again because next time you’ll be kicked out with them!”

You widened your eyes in horror and nodded vigorously, afraid to make any noise and irritate the librarian even more. Madam Pince huffed satisfied at your acknowledgement of her threat before turning on her heels and leaving you with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“I don’t know how you and Remus can be friends with those twats,” Lily said in a belittled tone of voice whilst rolling her eyes.

“They’re not that bad once-“ you started to defend the Marauders but trailed off as you looked in the direction of the closed window by the side of the door and saw James and Sirius with their faces glued to the glass, waving for you to come to them.

“You were saying?” Marlene frowned disgustedly at their behaviour.

“Come on, they’re nice people, girls!” Alice chuckled, defending the boys as the sweet and kind person she was.

“They are! Thank you, Ali!” You wrapped your arm around the girl’s shoulders in a gesture of appreciation.

“Sure,” Lily teased with a frown as she studied the boys, whom were now making silly faces at your group from behind the glass window. “I’m sure if you google stupid twats their names won’t come up as soon as you hit the search button.”

Marlene high-fived Lily at her remark and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you rolled your eyes at your redhead friend, “you know you and James have a lot in common, don’t you?” You teased, getting up and grabbing your phone and laptop.

“Where are you going?” She asked amidst a blush, purposely ignoring what you had just said.

“To see what they bloody want before Madam Pince spots them and forbids me to step a foot into the library for good of course,” you shrugged with a lopsided grin and walked away from your lady friends, heading to the boys in the corridor.

 -

 “Y/N, I’m so sorry! I told these idiots that you were studying and they should not bother you!” Remus said as soon as he saw your moving figure approaching the door, his arms up in an apologetic gesture.

“That’s okay, Rem. I know their stupidity is uncontrollable,” you chuckled, squeezing the taller boy’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed, offended, as he ran a hand through his thick dark locks.

“She’s not lying,” Remus said with a light shrug of his shoulders, pressing his lips together to contain a smile.

“What do you bloody want from me anyway to barge in the library like that?” You winged your brows, specifically scolding James.

“Sorry about that, little one. Madam Pince really needs to learn how to relax,” he frowned, recalling her unpleasant screams. “Anyway, we got ourselves brand new phones and this muggle box you call a laptop and we were wondering if you could help us out with those… things.”

You lifted a brow as you crossed your arms across your chest, “you got phones? And laptops?” You repeated his sentence with a surprised tone of voice.

“That’s what I just said, yes,” James frowned.

“I reckon you saying something like,” you started, raising your hands in the air and mimicking quotes as you tried your best to impersonate James, “’I will never trade my owl and parchments for these bloody muggle things with these annoying noises.’”

“I’ll admit I may have spoken too soon,” he shrugged with a grimace. “Blimey, it’s hard not to surrender to those things when the entire school and even the Professors are using it!”

You gazed at James with an amused look on your face.

“So, will you help us out, love?” Sirius steadied himself on you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and stared at you with puppy eyes.

“I could use the help of these things to improve my studying method and have easier access to books,” Remus said shyly, putting his hands into his pockets.

“I want to try those games the lads have been playing, they’re even talking about doing championships and starting clubs,” Peter’s eyes twinkled as he nodded excitedly.

You heaved a sigh as you looked to the pleading faces of the four Marauders. “Fine, I’ll help you idiots out.”

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

 You had been helping the Marauders with the muggle technology for a few days now and it wasn’t getting any easier. As wizards born and raised into wizarding families, the boys never had any sort of familiarity with technology nor muggle devices before, which hampered the task in hand considerably. Even Remus, who was unquestionably the cleverest among them, was struggling to learn how to properly use a phone.

Beginning with the smartphone was your idea, because you thought that after they mastered this complex device, learning how to use a laptop would be a piece of cake. You just didn’t imagine that it would be so bloody difficult.

“Wait, wait, and wait!” Sirius interrupted your explanation about the Face ID for the third time with a confused frown as he threw his head back heavily into the back pillow of the Gryffindor Common Room sofa. “How am I supposed to make my face unlock this thing? Will I have to hex it?”

“No, you daft dimbo!” You huffed, annoyed. “I’ll get there if you just stop interrupting me!”

“Sorry, love,” he smirked satisfied at your apparent annoyance, resting his elbows on Remus’ and James’ shoulders. “I’ll admit I have a liking to piss you off; and apparently I accomplish that even when I’m not trying to.”

“You sure do!” You smiled wryly at him, curling your legs on the seat of the stuffed armchair you were occupying, leaning yourself a little in the boys direction. “Anyway, you’ll access your phone settings right… here,” you said, showing them with your phone where to tap. “To register your face, you’ll need to hold your device between 10 and 20 inches away from you. With your face centered in the circle, you’ll move your head around until the scan is complete.”

The boys quickly followed your instructions and registered their faces, finally completing the basic configurations of their phones as they did so, allowing you to start teaching them how to use its apps and download other ones.

“There’s a camera in this? Cool!” Sirius exclaimed excitedly once he unlocked his phone screen. “What?” He added with a smile when you chuckled at his reaction.

“I’ve always thought that if you were a muggle, you’d sort of be an edgy photographer,” you answered with a lopsided grin.

“I could be one to,” James shrugged uninterested. “I’d definitely be edgy.”

“You, James? Come on!” You rolled your eyes, laughing wholeheartedly. “You’d be an annoying influencer jock.”

“A what?” He asked, utterly confused as if you were speaking in another language.

“You’d definitely be an overachiever high school athlete who were not only famous at school but also on the internet,” you winged your brows at him, resting your chin of your fist.

“You’d definitely be like that, mate!” Remus laughed, pointing his index finger at James.

“Yeah? And how would all-mighty Moony be?” James teased, crossing his arms across his chest and bending his head a little so he could playfully stare at his brown-haired friend.

“Rem would be a total hipster!” You shouted excitedly, clapping your hands. “He’d definitely be an outsider to the cultural mainstream, he’d have an online blog where he’d review books and would definitely be vocal about structural issues in the muggle society.”

“Why would he be the coolest among us?” James frowned, a little annoyed.

“Because he already is,” you shrugged, winging your brows.

“I can totally see muggle Moony being like that too,” Peter nodded vaguely from his seat on the arm of the sofa, picturing what you had just said inside his head.

“Can we focus on the tech again?” James said, swinging his phone in the air.

“Yes, we can, you pampered berk,” you answered, the ends of your lips curling up into an amused smirk as you got up of the armchair and motioned to the sofa, squeezing yourself between James and Sirius.

Slowly, you started to explain to them how to use the iMessage service and how to text someone and read the texts you receive. The boys seemed awestruck by the fact that you could get in touch with someone so easily and get an instant response back.

“Wicked! Now I can ask Lily out without putting myself in danger!” James exclaimed excitedly, the blaze that crackled in the fireplace lighting up his features. “Can’t I?”

“Well, she can always block your number, you know…” you frowned mockingly at him, earning amused laughs from Remus, Sirius and Peter.

The four of you teased James for a while before you and the boys got back to the teaching process. An hour or so later, you had already covered all the phone basic apps and they were already familiar with their functions and how to properly use them.

“Now, to the fun stuff!” You announced excitedly. “Let’s introduce you lads to the wonderful world of the trending apps.”

“Are there more?” Sirius widened his eyes as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Indeed, my dear Black!” You quirked your brows satisfied, tilting your head so you could look him in the eyes. “There are tons of apps you can download to improve your experience, apps that match your likings such as, in your case, dating apps.”

“Dating apps? Can’t you just charm the ladies through texts?” He asked confusedly.

“You sure can, but these apps are basically made for people who want to engage on… knowing someone a little bit better, if you know what I mean,” you chuckled. “With the dating apps you don’t have to ask yourself if the other person is somehow romantically interested in you, because when they swipe right and the match is made, it means the interest is mutual.”

“And how would you know all this?” He asked, lifting his head and smirking mockingly at you. “Y/N L/N, do you use dating apps?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you retorted, blushing furiously. Sirius’ smirk grew wider.

A sudden silence fell among the five of you as you and Sirius stared at each other with narrowed eyes; he holding a teasing look whilst you held a deadly one. James and Remus watched the scene with delighted expressions whilst Peter monotonously scrolled through his phone screen.

“Ahem,” Remus cleared his throat with an amused smile, dragging you and Sirius back to reality. “Are there any good apps to download books and to read them?”

You slowly tilted your head in Remus’ direction and, nodding, started to show him the apps you had on your phone for reading purposes and which ones you thought would fit his needs better. Remus avidly listened to your tips whilst downloading each and every app you had mentioned on his own phone.

The day quickly faded into night as you and the Marauders went on and on about the technologies and its functions and soon, the five of you were the only ones in the now silent Common Room, the light coming from the fireplace and the displays of your phones being the only things shining in the almost complete darkness.

“And done!” James exclaimed, getting up from the sofa and stretching himself. “TikTok is already downloaded and ready to be used! Tomorrow we’ll pull the ‘Dance Like a Hippogriff’ prank and Y/N here will film everything so we can upload the edited video on our TikTok account later.”

“Excuse you?” You frowned, crossing your arms across your chest.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” He joined his hands pleadingly. “Come on! Please?” He added at the grimace you made.

“Fine!” You rolled your eyes with a smile after a few seconds. “Now I’m going to bed before another brilliant idea pops up into that twat mind of yours."

Saying goodbye to the Marauders, you walked to the stairs that led to the girls’ dormitory and took a quick look over your shoulder. Before you climbed up the stairs, a smile formed on your lips as you saw the four boys talking excitedly and laughing whilst scrolling through their phones.

[backtothestart02]

Teacher’s Pet - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Written for Mi on twitter. <3 Is there any new fic I won’t start and never update? *nervous laughter* Hopefully this will be updated soon. Hope you all enjoy. It’s the forbidden college teacher-student romance au you never knew you needed. Iris is much older than Barry and the rest of the chars (minus Scott). Just an fyi.

...

Synopsis:  AU - Fresh off a break-up, the last person Barry expects to fall for is his new English teacher.

...

Chapter 1 -

The university building loomed just ahead on the far side of the courtyard. It was menacing in its stature, for what it represented. A return to academics, sure, but that was something Barry had always enjoyed. No, this building was menacing because it thrust into his face the reality that he almost hadn’t passed any of his classes the previous semester. He had a long way to go to get back to the top of his class and to a place where his parents would be proud of him again. That was important to him.

He stepped out of his car and shut the door behind him, gulping as he looked up at the flag whipping in the wind in plain view of the building. It was cold outside. There was still snow on the ground. His boots crunched as he walked on the ground and around the car to pop open the trunk and grab the two duffel bags he’d taken home with him on winter break.

His phone started to buzz when he was halfway to the building. Reluctantly, he dropped his bags in the snow and answered it.

“Hey, Cisco.”

“Barry! Finally, you answered!”

Barry frowned.

“I just got back to school. You know I don’t pick up the phone when I’m driving.”

He could practically feel Cisco rolling his eyes on the other end.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Where are you at?”

Barry looked around.

“Right in front of our building,” he said. “Think you can come down and open the door for me? My hands are kinda full.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure thing.”

“Unless you’re too busy?”

“Mid-game actually.” Barry could hear video game noises in the background. They abruptly stopped. “But for you, I pause. I’ll be right there.”

“Great. Tha-”

But Cisco hung up before he could finish.

Barry shoved the phone back in his coat pocket and picked up his bags again. Then he trudged over to the building, stuffing the dread he’d felt on seeing the place again as far down as he could muster.

“There he is! Man of the hour!” Cisco declared, opening the door just as he arrived.

“Thanks, man.”

“It’s the least I could do. Personally, I was starting to wonder if you’d ever get here.”

Barry snorted.

“I don’t exactly live close by.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Here let me-”

But Barry held both bags out of reach.

“They’re heavy, Cisco. I put as much as I could into them before I left.”

“I remember. I was surprised the zipper didn’t break.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he drawled, shifting one bag over his shoulder. “Just lead the way.”

“Suit yourself. You may change your mind though.”

“What would make me do that?”

“The fact that the elevator is under construction for another month.”

Barry abruptly dropped one of the bags just shy of his foot.

“What, for real? I thought they were going to finish that over break.”

Cisco shrugged. “Guess not.”

Barry blew out a puff of air and reluctantly handed a bag over to his roommate.

“Shit, what do you got in here, bricks? Cement blocks? Oh, I know, pure gold.”

“Told you it was heavy.”

Barry moved past him towards the stairs.

“We still on the third floor?”

“Last time I checked.”

Barry nodded and took the stairs two at a time.

“Hey, Mr. Long Legs,” Cisco called out when he was only halfway up the stairs and Barry was turned the corner to the next staircase. “Slow up a bit, would ya?”

“Sorry.” Barry stopped. “But if I stop for too long, I’ll lose my energy and before you know it, I’ll be unpacking in the middle of the stairs.”

Heaving by the time he reached them, Cisco could only gesture for him to continue. Barry had to smile a bit to himself, but by the time they reached it to the final platform, he was due for some extra oxygen too.

“We should start working out.”

“On campus?” Cisco asked. “You know who’s always hogging the fitness center.”

Barry didn’t need a reminder.

“Wally West, yeah, I know.”

“He doesn’t exactly like you.”

“He stole my girlfriend.”

“To be fair, he’s been working out longer than you.”

“I don’t work out.”

“Case in point.”

“We could start walking.”

“In this weather?” Cisco visibly shivered. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“So, what, we just stay skinny and pale for the rest of our lives?”

“I’ll just stay skinny, thank you very much. And after what you went through last semester, maybe the last thing you should be focused on is buffing up for the ladies.”

Barry rolled his eyes. He didn’t need the reminder. He hadn’t been in love with Linda, so her breaking up with him for cocky jock Wally West bruised his ego more than his heart, but it still hurt. He liked her, and he thought after a year of dating, they had something real. Guess he was wrong.

Spending the tail end of the semester trying to win her back instead of focusing on his finals was probably the reason he’d nearly flunked out of every class he’d been taking. He wouldn’t be doing that again.

Abruptly, he realized Cisco was still talking.

“You know the real reason Wally bothers you so much isn’t just because of Linda.”

“No? What is it then, oh, wise one?”

Cisco turned the key in the door to their room and stepped inside, dropping Barry’s bag on the floor for him to pick up and carry across the room.

“It’s because he skates by in his classes too. He rarely shows up, rarely puts in an effort, and yet, because his sister teaches, she has an in with his records and sweet talks the other teachers to let him slide by.”

Barry straightened after shrugging out of his coat and kicking his boots off.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Surprise!” Cisco said animatedly.

Barry was not amused.

“I have her as my English teacher this semester.”

Cisco winced. “Yikes.”

Barry scowled.

“I hear she’s pretty though. Like, drop-dead gorgeous.”

“I’m not gonna date my teacher.”

“Who said anything about dating her? She’s just something nice to look at. Maybe she’ll be sweet on you.”

“Oh, yeah, the woman who’s cheating the system so her brother graduates will give me – the ex to her brother’s girl whose gpa has seriously tanked over the last months – a fair chance.”

Cisco shrugged.

“It’s only one class?”

Barry sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.” He shook his head. “I need a distraction from all this.”

Cisco snapped his fingers.

“Video games!”

Barry considered it.

“Yeah, I guess that might do it.”

“It will do it.” He picked up a controller and handed it to him. “Here. I’ll even delete all my progress so we can both play.”

Barry snorted.

“Thanks, man. You’re one in a million.”

“Better than Linda and Wally combined.”

“And Ms. West.”

“Professor West she likes to be called.”

Of course she does.

Barry rolled his eyes and reached over to Cisco’s controller to start the game and shut him up.

“Hey, what did y-”

“Play!”

Cisco shook his head and started to play, eventually forgetting his minor irritation and focusing wholeheartedly on the game and having his best friend back in his space again.

It would be a good semester. Despite all odds, Barry would excel. He had no doubt.

…

 Iris draped the fuzzy blanket over her legs and sank into her couch. After a tasty dinner for one and an exhilarating bath, here she was ready to enjoy a few chapters of her current favorite book for the night. Tomorrow classes would start up again, and she would have to be up at the crack of dawn to be in teacher mode. It had been a solid month and a half of relaxation and freedom – minus the small inconvenience of having Wally crash with her and frequently invite his new girlfriend over. But aside from that, it had been nice.

She enjoyed teaching though, always had. Running the school newspaper helped channel her passions for something more. And when she wasn’t worrying about whether or not she would be the only one in her family graduating college, she could enjoy being a flirt to just about every man on staff. The other women envied her. She didn’t care. She didn’t sleep around. It was all in good fun. And it would all resume tomorrow morning, bright and early.

A sudden loud noise interrupted her thoughts. She looked toward the door and found to her great annoyance that it was her brother, whose lips were attached to the new girl she’d met only twice over the last month. Her eyes narrowed when she realized his hands were searching out the hem of her shirt and the zipper of her skirt.

“Uh, Wally?”

No response. Just more moans and groping.

“Hey, Wally!” She snapped – literally.

His eyes opened, and he distanced himself from his girl, though only slightly.

“Iris. Hey. What are y-”

“I live here, remember?”

“Yes, right. I know. I just thought…”

“It’s nine o’clock, and you’re crashing on my couch. Where were you expecting to go?”

He had the gall to have a straight face.

Meanwhile, the girl just inches from him blushed.

“Oh, my God, Wally,” she whispered under her breath. “I thought you said she wouldn’t be home.”

Iris got to her feet.

“You were going to fuck in my bed.”

“Well, I…”

“You were!”

“Maybe I should go…” the mortified girl muttered.

“Yeah, I think you’d better,” Iris barked.

“Hey! Don’t talk to her like that!” Wally ordered.

Iris’ eyes widened.

“Maybe you should leave too.”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know. Home?”

“I came here so I didn’t have to. You know they’d never take me. They can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Yeah, well, right now I can’t really stand the sight of you either.”

He fumed. She fumed right back.

“I’ll just go,” the girl piped up again. “I’m so sorry about this, Iris.” She swallowed hard.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Both women gave him a deadly glare until finally Wally relented. He softened as he turned to his girlfriend.

“I mean, do you really want to go?”

“I…”

Iris was in disbelief. This was her apartment!

“I’m calling mom.”

He spun around to face his sister instead.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Leave.” She pointed toward the door. “Come back when you have your priorities straightened out.”

He scoffed but wrapped his arm around his girl and guided her to the door.

“Come on, Linda. We can go to your place.”

“I have a roommate,” she panicked.

“Guess you won’t be fucking then,” Iris said dryly.

Wally glared but left the apartment. Iris locked the door immediately. He had a key, so it wasn’t going to keep him out, but it would give her some peace of mind until she went to bed.

Heaving a sigh, she collapsed back on the couch and closed her eyes for a few minutes before grabbing her book and relaxing into it again.

It took a while, and she was just about into the zone of where the characters were headed when there was a knock on the door.

She sighed, aggravated, and deliberately set the book down on the coffee table. Then she got to her feet and headed toward the door.

“So help me, Wallace, if that is actually you… If you lost your key… If you’re coming back this soon, there better be an apology,” she muttered heatedly.

She was so focused on the possibility that it was her brother that she flung the door open without looking through the peephole and was fuming when she came face to face with a familiar yet completely unexpected face.

“Scott?”

“Did I…come at a bad time?”

She blinked, suddenly aware of just a teddy beneath her fluffy robe. She looked him over and debated her options. He looked dashing, as always, and the easy charm was there in his half-amused smile pulling at his lips. There’d been an easy flirtation between the two of them since they’d met five years ago, but they’d never acted on it. Now here he was the night before the spring semester started with red roses in one hand and an uncurling fist that was probably sweaty as the other.

Suddenly, she needed nothing more than to act out one of the steamy love scenes in her book. Damn it all to hell what the next day brought.

She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him into her apartment, kissing him soundly on the lips. He made no attempt to push away, and in fact moved to undress her through the far less layers as she was undressing him.

The door was shut, and the flowers dropped in the flurry of it all, and before either of them realized the gravity of what had happened, they were in Iris’ bedroom fucking, and Iris was kind of smug about it because it should serve Wally right for trying to do it first.

That didn’t mean she’d let him spend the night however. If Wally saw him gossip would spread, no doubt to get back at her, and she didn’t need either of their teaching reputations ruined like that.

So, about ten minutes after they’d crested, and Scott was laying in bed beside her with a gigantic grin on his face, Iris propped herself up and made a gesture towards the door.

“Okay, time for you to go.”

His jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, honey.” She stroked his chest. “You were fantastic.”

“Then?”

“We’re not together. I was just feeling stressed out, and you alleviated my stress. Thank you.” She smiled serenely.

He blinked.

“Seriously, go. If Wally sees you here, gossip will spread before either of us gets a word in our classes tomorrow. That’s hardly the best way to start the semester.”

He blinked again, still trying to process. She didn’t like that.

“Go!” She pulled on her robe and yanked him out of her bedroom.

He seemed to figure out what was going on by that point and caught his clothes as she threw them at him.

“I…uh…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow in the hall.”

“You will?” he asked hopefully.

“In the hall,” she repeated.

He frowned, and she sighed, moving swiftly past him to open the door and usher him out.

“Did you like the flowers at least?” he asked pathetically.

“They’re lovely,” she assured. “Goodnight, Scott.”

Then she closed the door in his face and locked it, promptly turning and throwing out the flowers without even a single sniff. Wally couldn’t see she had flowers. He was annoyingly observant and picked up on shit like that.

She returned to her bedroom, changed the sheets, and took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat. Then she settled in to sleep with a smile on her face. Amazing what a one-night stand could do for a girl’s mood.

This semester was going to be great.

[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 18 - Detention

Summary: Umbridge makes you write horrible things while George watches

(I have read many wonderful fics like this before I started writing this story, but I just really wanted to create my own scene. Hope you enjoy :) )

Warnings: Angst, Blood

Word count: 2.8K

George Weasley x Reader // Fred Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Song: The chapter was inspired by The Killers - Be Still

Masterlist

As Monday five o’clock arrived, you and George headed towards Umbridge’s office with as little enthusiasm as possible. You were suppose to finish an essay for Potions and you also had to practice for Charms… But no, the old toad had made sure that you wouldn’t finish with anything. Detention… Seriously? You snorted in disgust.

“I agree,” muttered George as you two walked the corridors towards Umbridge’s office. “I say let’s finish this one quick and maybe we can still do something after.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said.

As you arrived to Umbridge’s office, you had to realise you weren’t the only ones sentenced to detention today. Next to the door was a Ravenclaw girl standing, not far from her a younger Hufflepuff boy was looking out the window. And, on a stone bench sitting was…

“Harry!” George called and you walked over to him. “Joining the fun?”

“Hey,” he said, with not much joy in his voice. He looked at you. “What are you in for?”

“Going out after curfew,” you rolled your eyes. “Ridiculous, really.”

“D’you know what we’ll have to do?” asked George.

Harry hesitated. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Lines.”

Before you could had answered, the door of Umbridges office opened and a girlish voice form inside said, “Inside, please.”

All five of you stepped inside and saw Umbridge sitting at her desk with a wide smile. Seeing her teeth made your stomach wince. On the tables in front of her were already lying the parchments and some quills.

“Take a seat.”

You walked to the seat next to the window, hoping you might see something interesting while you work, and George came with you. Umbridge stood up from her chair, though that didn’t make her taller by an inch.

“Tut, tut, Mr Weasley, please choose an other seat. You too, Mr Potter. We wouldn’t like to distrach each other now, do we?”

George rolled his eyes at you and you smirked. He changed seats with the Ravenclaw girl, and Harry sat down to the other side of the Hufflepuff boy. Umbridge shot a satisfied smile at you.

“Well done. Now, as you can see, what we’ll do today is some lines. In front of you you can find everything you need, however I tell you what you need to write, since every one of you is here to be punished for something else.” She giggled. You shivered.

“Mr Potter, I believe I don’t need to tell you what to do. Start, please.”

You saw Harry shooting an angry look at Umbridge, then he looked at his paper, took the quill in his hand and started writing without ink. You raised an eyebrow.

“Now, Mr Pickett,” she looked at the Hufflepuff boy. “I need you to write ‘I musn’t be late with my homework’ for me, is that clear?”

The boy nodded sadly. She stepped to the left.

“Mr Weasley, your line will be ‘I musn’t break the rules’. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” said George in a defiant tone.

“Yes, what, Mr Weasley?”

“Yes… Professor Umbridge.”

“Perfect. Now, Miss Lance,” she stepped to the girl. “You will write ‘I mustn’t disrespect authority’. Tut, tut… From a Ravenclaw student I expected more…” she giggled. “…obedience.”

She stepped in front of you and her smile widened. You looked at her with doubtful anticipation. She chuckled.

“Now, we have arrived to the most important lesson of the day,” she said with some kind of weird excitement. “Miss Y/L/N here is a great example of how some… older traditions are supposed to be supported.”

What the bloody hell was she talking about? You wished she’d shut up and you could start  writing already. Umbridge looked at you with a wide smile.

“I understand you and Mr Weasley here are quite fond of each other…”

You raised an eyebrow and your eyes met with George’s for a second. He looked just as startled as you. Umbridge shook her head.

“Now, now… What a shame. My heart truly breaks to the thought of separating two young lovers… However, I cannot just sit and watch as our greatness descents due to… interference.”

“What do you mean?” you blurted out. You had a really bad feeling. Umbridge raised her voice.

“You’re a muggleborn, dear?”

“Yes…?”

Her smile widened. Her eyes were glimmering.

“Your line is ‘I mustn’t mix with purebloods’.”

Everybody in the room turned to you in shock. You looked at Umbridge, taken aback, not understaning a thing that was happening.

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

“You can’t do that!” George shot an angry look at the woman. Umbridge ignored him.

“Yes, yes, dear. I want you to write those lines for me.”

You considered walking out. Running to McGonagall, telling her what an ugly toad this woman is… But at the same time you felt anger and you didn’t want to run away. You wanted to show her that you didn’t care. It doesn’t matter what she says. You will write the bloody lines and then get out of here and forget it ever happened.

George shifted in his chair. You looked at him; his face was red from anger. You shook your head. ‘It’s just lines’, you tried to say without words to him, ‘Just empty words. Don’t worry about it’. He was breathing very fast. You locked eyes with him for long seconds, then he finally nodded and turned to his parchment.

In the meantime Umbridge walked back to her desk and sat down. She looked at all of you and said, “Start, please.”

“We don’t have any ink,” said the Ravenclaw girl.

“You don’t need any, dear,” said Umbridge with a giggle.

“How many times?” you said. Umbridge smiled again, this time so widely you saw her pointy teeth.

“Until you learn it, dear. Now, start writing.”

She pulled some papers in front of her, and started marking essays. You took the quill and heard the girl next to you quietly groan in surprise. You didn’t care. You just wanted to get it done and get out of here.

You wrote ‘I mustn’t mix with purebloods’.

You winced as you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand. You saw and felt at the same time, how the letters carved themselves into your skin. Your jaw dropped. The wound healed. You looked at the quill. You felt George’s glance at you. Then he stood up, kicking his chair behind.

“Now, now, Mr Weasley, think about what you’re going to say,” sang Umbridge, without looking up from her work. “Sit.”

“What if I don’t sit?” he said, his voice shaking in anger.

“Then I have to make sure to send Miss Y/L/N to detention every day for the rest of this month, since you’re preventing her to learn her message.”

George turned his head to look at you. You didn’t look at him.

“Sit down, Mr Weasley.”

He didn’t.

“Sit down, Mr Weasley!” said Umbridge, this time without smiling.

Hesitantly, but he sat down and took the quill again. You were sitting two tables from him but you still heard his quill tapping fastly on the table in his shaking hand.

“Write your lines, please,” said Umbridge.

And so you did.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods. I mustn’t mix with purebloods. I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

Your hand trembled every time the quill cut into it. You didn’t dare to look up.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

After what seemed like half an hour, you heard the Hufflepuff boy sniffling.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

The quill cut into your skin deeper and deeper.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

After an hour and a half the pain in your hand was so intense and constant that you didn’t feel the quill cutting into it anymore.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

The whole room was quiet.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

It started to get darker and darker. You must had been here for at least two hours.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

After what seemed like the third hour, the Hufflepuff boy way sobbing. Umbridge waited at least thirty minutes more before called him to her.

“That’s enough for today, dear,” she said after examining his hand. “You can go.”

The four of you stayed. After the next cut blood started dripping onto your parchment.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

The cut didn’t seem to heal so fast anymore. After another hour your eyes started to sting from tiredness.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

“Come here, Harry, dear.”

Harry stood up, showed his hand and Umbridge let him go, too.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

Blood was soaking your parchment. Its smell made you nauseous. On the back of your hand, the red letters were shining, not healing anymore. Every sentence hurt more and more.

I mustn’t mix with purebloods.

“Miss Y/L/N, your hand, please,” said Umbridge after twenty minutes. You stood up and walked to her desk, leaving blood everywhere on the floor. She took your hand with a smile. “Ah, good, good. Do you think you learned your lesson?”

You were looking over her shoulder at the disgusting kitten plates. You nodded in silence.

“Excellent. You may go, dear.”

You turned away and walked to the door. You saw from the corner of your eyes that George turned his head towards you. You didn’t look at him. You stepped outside without saying a word, then started walking towards the common room. It was lucky your feet seemed to remember the way, cause you didn’t see anything. You were staring in the distance, trying to hold back everything that was about to burst out of you. You reached the Fat Lady, mumbled something, and stepped inside.

The common room was almost empty, it must had been very late. Fred was sitting on the couch by the fireplace, he was waiting for you and George. When he saw you entering, he waved at you with a smile.

“Finally, I almost fell asleep —,” when he saw your dreadful expression he stood up in concern. His smile faded. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath… and you started crying.

“Y/N!”

Fred took a scared step towards you but you couldn’t hold back anymore. You ran to him, swung your arms around his neck and sobbed.

“Y/N, what happened?” he asked but you were unable to answer. Fred carefully hugged you, soothing your hair. “Please, tell me — Where’s George?”

You sobbed even harder when you heard his name. You couldn’t believe what just happened. This cannot be real. It can’t. But when you opened your eyes, you saw the blood on your hand and you quickly buried your face into Fred’s neck because that was the only refuge you had in the moment.

Fred might had realized that he won’t be able to get a straight answer from you. His anxious voice was whispering into your ear, while he softy caressed your back, still holding you close.

“It’s okay… It’s okay, Y/N… Shh… you’re okay… I’m here… It’s okay… It’s okay…”

The Fat Lady opened and you felt Fred looking up. You jerked your head that way, too, and saw George, standing there, a miserable expression on his face. He held out his hand for you and you ran to him, letting him embrace you, taking in his smell, feeling his arms around you, and you felt a bit safer, you felt a bit better, you were not so scared anymore, because if he was here then that meant that things would be okay…

“Please, one of you tell me what’s goin — Is that blood?!”

Fred’s outraged voice came from closer as he looked at George’s hand. He gasped.

“No…”

“Yes,” said George hoarsly. “Come here, come, let’s sit down…”

He led you to the couch and sat down first, pulling you into his lap.

“You have a rag or something?”

Fred searched his pockets and gave George a handkerchief. George rubbed a finger across your face.

“Can I see it?”

No, no he couldn’t. You didn’t want him to see it. That would make it way too real. You shook your head.

“Please… please, let me —” his voice cracked. “Let me see it.”

Slowly, very slowly you raised your hand a little. It already left a bloody mark on your shirt. Though it wasn’t bleeding anymore, the letters were easily readable. George took your wrist, but his hand was shaking from the anger. On his other hand, you saw his reddish sentence healing slowly. Your stomach wrenched.

You buried your face into George’s chest while he was cleaning your hand. You winced in pain every time he accidentaly touched the scar; he made sure to always apologize after that. When he finished, you didn’t move. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your sniveling, while Fred demanded for the thousandth time the explanation of all this. George, still caressing your hair, told him everything.

“That fucking toad!” said Fred at once. “That disgusting, abnormal, loathsome old bitch — I show her… I show her something she’ll never forget.”

He stood up from the couch in rage, taking out his wand. You raised your head in fear.

“No, please…” your voice sounded like it belonged to a smoke addict. “Please, Fred, no.”

“Y/N… I can’t let her do this, I… What about you?” he asked, looking at George. “Don’t you think she should pay for this?”

George’s hand was still shaking. You gently intertwined your fingers with his and looked up into his enraged face. His cheeks were pale, his lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes suggested nothing but wrath. But as he looked at you, his gaze softened.

“Please, don’t do anything…” you said. “I don’t want you getting into an even bigger trouble.”

“So we should just leave it, then?” said Fred indignantly. “Let her have her laugh?”

“No, I… that’s not what I…”

“We tell McGonagall,” said George. “Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. This is more than just something that can be payed back with a prank or a Nosebleed Nougat. This is serious.”

Fred was obviously keen to do something right now, but when you nodded he sat back onto the couch. You turned your head towards the fire that was almost out.

“I’m so tired,” you whispered. “When I’m home I’m unwanted because I’m a witch… When I’m here I’m unwanted because I’m a muggleborn —”

“You’re not unwanted,” said Fred and George in unison. You sniffled.

“That’s good to know.”

You dared to take a glance at your hand. George had cleaned the blood away, and the scar seemed to heal slowly.

The three of you were sitting on the couch for at least twenty minutes in silence, which, from the twins was coming as quite unusual. Fred was staring at George’s hand, barely blinking, jaw clenched. You were looking out the window to the night sky, watching the moon passing by, dazing off in George’s lap. George was holding you tight, his chin resting on the top of your head, occasionally pressing a small kis on your hair. Only when you almost fell asleep, you felt movement on the couch again and Fred’s voice echoed in the empty common room.

“… sleep. Don’t leave her alone.”

“Wasn’t going to.”

Steps, then a door creaked. You felt a soft touch on your cheek.

“Are you asleep?”

You opened your eyes.

“No.”

“Come. You should sleep with me tonight. We’ll take care of the rest tomorrow, all right?”

“Yes.”

You stood up and he automatically reached to hold your hand. You winced.

“I’m sorry!” he said in a panicky voice. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” you said, fighting your tears again. The pain reminded you of what had happened an hour earlier. “Let’s just go.”

He lead you to his dormitory and let you go inside. Lee was already asleep, and if Fred was awake, he didn’t show it. You sat down onto George’s bed while he took off his robes.

“Can you…,” you sniffled. “Can you give me something to sleep in?”

“Of course,” he was searching in his trunk. “Here. Is this okay?”

He handed you a soft shirt. It smelled so much like him. Fireworks. Your lip trembled and you were glad he couldn’t see your face in the dark. You changed quickly and climbed into George’s arms. He put the blanket over your shoulder and you wrapped a leg over his tighs. You rested your head on his chest.

“Are you okay Georgie?” you asked quietly. “Does yours hurt a lot?”

“I’m all right, love.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Always.”

You nodded.

“I don’t know if I can sleep properly,” you said.

“It’s okay,” he said huskily. “Just remember that I’m here. I’m gonna be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand found its way under your shirt, he was tenderly soothing your back. If anything, it made you a bit calmer. You could breath a bit more easily. After a while your tears dried up and you were dazing off in George’s arms.

[ragrottend0ll]

School crush (Vinira fic)

(English is not my first language so I apologized if something doesn’t make sense. I tried not to but mistakes happend; me, for example) 

Chapter two:

It was lunch time at Hexside. All, or at least a good part of the students were having fun talking with their firends and eating their meals.

Emira was doing none of it.

Sitting in the cafetria’s table with her brother and a few other kids that she was forced to hang around with, Emira was in silence just looking at nothing.

‘‘Hey, Em, you good?’‘ Edric asked.

‘‘Perfectly.’‘

‘‘Well, you don’t look perfectly’‘. Odolette said. If Emira had to be honest with herself, she would said that Odolette was her very best friend. Not that she will ever say it aloud.

And actually, all Emira’s forced friends weren’t all bad. If you ignore Mungo, the rest were pretty good.

‘‘So, are you gonna tell us what’s wrong?’‘ Clovis asked with a lot of pudin everywhere but his mouth.

‘‘No and clean yourself’‘. Emira answered. Then, she started to look away at the same direction.

Sorcha, who was at Clovis’ left, took a napkin and cleaned his face.

Emira was looking at the double-track kid’s table with her peripheral sight. Emira wasn’t dumb. As much as she would like to see Viney laughing at something her friends said, she couldn’t. In one hand someone could notice, in the other hand that someone could be her friends, and in the third hand (the worst one) Viney could notice.

‘‘Oh!’’  Clovis exclaimed ‘‘I see what’s happening now’‘

‘‘What?’‘ Odolette asked after a few seconds of silence. 

‘‘Is my imagination or our dearest Emira is looking intensely at that up-grade hot boy over there?’’ Clovis asked.

‘‘What?’‘ the whole table, Emira included, asked.

Odolette look at the direction Emira’s eyes were supposedly looking at, Emira did too, just to find a good-looking schoolmate that Emira haven’t met yet, his face was familiar, tho. Probably she have seen him around the school in all these years. 

Yes, he was handsome, Emira and everyone with one eye on their face could tell, but there was one little problem. The guy was a he. And she was a lesbian.

‘‘OH TITAN!’‘ Odolette began ‘‘YOU LIKE-’‘ 

‘‘Shut. Up.’‘ Emira interrupted by putting her hand in Odolette’s mouth to stoped her before someone could hear. ‘’And before anyone say anything, no, I don’t like him.’’

‘‘So, why were you starring with those heart-shaped eyes?’‘ Sorcha asked with exxageration in her voice.

‘‘I didn’t made heart-shaped eyes.’‘

‘‘Sure you didn’t’‘ Clovis said, sarchastically.

‘‘I’m serious. I don’t know what you are talking about.’‘

‘‘Oh, Em! Having a crush isn’t bad.’‘ Odolette began ‘‘Honestly, I don’t know him, but I could sit with them and ask his name or even settle a date this week.’‘

‘‘But what if he says no?’‘Sorcha asked, ignoring completely the annoying and dumbfounded face Emira had.

‘‘As if someone would say no to a Blight.’‘ Clovis answered the question. ‘‘So anyway, Edric,’’ he change the subject ‘‘as Emira is obviously lying,’’

‘‘No, I’m not!’‘ Emira yelled.

‘‘what do you think? Ready to become a protective jelaous older brother?’’

‘‘Nah, Em can do whatever she pleases to. In first place she’ll have to actually talk to-��‘

‘‘Wait! Emira is actually in love?!’’ Sorcha exclaimed. The three friend were just joking and teasing, but now that Edric have sincerely accepted that Emira in fact was crushing that boy, things wouldn’t stop soon.

‘‘Sorry.’’ Edric whisper to his sister once Em started to look at him angry. 

Emira sighted. She wasn’t mad at Edric but she sure was mad at Sorcha, Clovis and Odolette.

‘‘Well’‘ Emira thought ‘‘At least Mungo is not here.’‘

And, as the universe and the Titan loves her so much, Mungo appear just behind her and Edric.

‘‘What are we talking about?’‘ 

The atmosphere changed. No one liked Mungo. 

He was part of a wealthy family, as the rest of the twins’ group of friends, but with the sly diference that he did really believed all the bullshit his parents talked about. 

Sure, they were all little rich babies, but that didn’t mean that they shared all their belives with their parents. Except Mungo, of course.

And besides that, he is jus simply... Annoying. Always trying to appear the greatest among the greats, when he was defenitely not.

All in the group officially stoped liking him when they were nine years old and had told all their parents that they stealed some some sweet fruits from the kitchen in one of the thousand parties they were all together.

Reth was simply a boot-licker.

That’s not bad, the own Emira has to be one when her mother is involved. It’s a technique to survive, but she learned when and to who be one. And to always back-up your friends. 

Mungo prefers praise above anything.

That’s why not even them, who are suppose to be his friends, like him.

 ‘’Nothing at all’’ Edric aswered. 

When Mungo appear all their conversations had to change, at least when it were problematic.

Wich was most of the time.

Before Mungo could ask again Odolette asked: ‘‘What where you doing?.’’ And Mungo didn’t hesitated before start talking about how he is so great that his healing  teacher asked him help with something Emira didn’t care to listen.

‘‘So, due to those important and urgent business meetings, my parents will not be able to come to the open doors day.’’ Emira catch Mungo said after a few minutes of dozed out.

‘‘What open doors day?’’ Edric asked while chewing the last slice of his lunch.

‘‘Principal Bump haven’t give the announcement in the illusion track?’’ Sorcha asked.

Em and Ed axchanged looks.

They both skipped those first classes.

‘‘No, he hasn’t.’’ they said at the same time. Normally they wouldn’t care to their friends to know that, but Mungo was there too. And that brat could make someway to let their parents know. 

‘‘No matter how many times they’ve done that, it still gives me chills’’ Clovis said reffering to the perfect sync the Blight twins had.

‘‘Agree’’ Sorcha and Odolette said. Mungo didn’t, but it was obvious that everyone freaks out when they do things like that, especially with gestures.

 ‘‘So, back to the topic,’’ Em interrupted “What was that opend doors thing again?”

“Well, principal Bump announced that, to show some parents improvment, instalations, and much more shit, basically is inviting the tutors to come the next week friday and spend a day here.” Sorcha explained. “He’s even gonna let us go earlier and the ones that can’t get their parents to come, must deliver a letter sign by your tutor and can take the day free.”

“So, besides from Mungo, does anyone’s parents love you enough to spend the day here?” Clovis asked. Before Mungo could object something, Luz, The Human, came in the cafeteria running and  screaming while a giant, wild and mounstrious weird-looking abomination was chasing after her.

And just a few seconds later, Luz’s friends came in too. Willow, Amity and the little ilussion’s track boy that Emira never learned his name before.

After a little of battle, screams and some help from a pair of other students, they could stoped the monster in a few minutes.

.

.

.

 When his children asked him if he could come to the open doors day, he couldn’t say no. 

He was tempted. But he didn’t.

The mountain of paperwork will have to wait.

The four Blights get in the chariot and soon, they were flying their way to school. Normally they would go walking, but Alador preffered to not.

“Dad” Amity called “, before you get in the school there are a couple of things you should know”.

“Oh, I almost forgot, thanks, Mittens.” Edric said. Amity didn’t even scolded him because of the nickname. She give up some time ago.

“What kind of things?”

“Well...”Amity began.

“Wait, first of all you have to promised us that nothing will reach mom’s ears.”

“Or the emperors ears.” Completed Emira. Alador nodded in agreement, but still aware.

“Does the emperor even have ears?” Edric asked.

“Mmmh... No idea...”

“Guys!” Amity called. “Focus.”

“The thing is,” Amity tried to explain again. It was more difficult that it seemed to “There might be a couple of things that... well...”

“Are illegal” Edric said.

“Edric!” both sisters yelled.

“It’s the truth!”

“But there are ways to say the things!” 

“So, Hexside really has illegal things?” Alador asked. He was surprised but his face was looking as calm as always.

For some reason that didn’t surprised him as much as he suspect it would.

“Yeah... So, first thing: There’s a human studying there.”

Ok, Alador did not see that coming.

“That human’s mentor is The Owl Lady.”

Oh, great.

“And the school also have double-track students.”

“Let me guess”. Alador sight. “The human?”

Edric snorted. “Pfft! Of course not, dad!”

“The human is the only all-tracks kid” Emira explained rapidly. “The double-track students are witches. And one of those is my crush”.

Titan, have mercy of them.

.

.

.

Alador Blight have been walking with his children for all around the school. The plan was that the first hours he would spend it with Amity.

Those were pleasant. Alador was too in the abomination track when he was a schooler.

Ah, the good old days when the only things that matter were the grades. He did enjoyed his childhood and his teenage.

Alador didn’t had a lot of friends, but sure he had good ones. His family wasn’t rich or famous, but he lived well and happy with the few luxuries he could have.

In his last school year he formally started a relationship with Odalia and married some years after. The twins born and, in two more years, his little Amity did too.

Alador was in his way to meet Edric and Emira. Amity kinda ditched him when this girl appear. For the colorful uniform Alador guessed that she was the all-track, human, the owl lady’s apprentice. So Alador didn’t said anything and just let Amity enjoy herself.

In his way to the illusion track, Alador saw Bump with the owl lady. The woman was laughing while Bump had a tired expression in his face.

“Dad, I thought you would be spending time with Amity” Edric said when they meet on the halls.

“Well, she preferred to spend time with her friends”.

“Amity has friends?” Emira joked.

“Don’t bother your sister”. Alador said, but before one of the twins could say anything a teacher interrumpted:

“Mr. Blight, what an honor! Hope you are enjoying yourself”.

“I am, is always a delight to spend time with my children”. Alador turn to look Edric and Emira, that where behind him.

“Ed, Em, good morning”. The teacher saluted, with a big, hypocrit smile on his face. “I don’t think I saw you in class the last wenesday”.

‘damm gossipy teacher’. Both twins thought.

Their history teacher was mad with them. He would always give them extra homeworks and tried to put a lot of tricks in their quizzes just to make them fail. They hated to fail.

Failure was never an option.

So, they started to have a war with him. 

Who would get mad or insane first?

Most of time, the teacher did.

In this war everything was posible. One time, Edric and Emira even went to his house, in the middle of the night, to set their biggest prank ever.  La créme de la créme.

Let’s just say that, their dear proffesor didn’t went to school for two weeks.

And when he returned, his skin was covered by rash. And his voice was more pitched than a little three year old girl. Oh! And he stinked like rotten meat, too!

The twins didn’t remembered why this whole little war began. The only thing they knew was that no one, besides the them, could knew. The three woud get in trouble, with either principal Bump and Odalia Blight. None wanted that.

Alador raised an eyebrow, curious.

“Of couse we where there, tacher, we woud never do something as skip classes”. Edric began.

Alador raised more his eyebrow. Of course his twins ould skip classes. They’ve been grounded too many times for it.

“Yeah, I mean, we are Blights, any behavior below perfection just doesn't exist”. Emira put emphasis in the Blight part. A casual reminder os status, as her mother says.

“Oh, yes. I think I forgot. So, how’s your proyect going?”

“Dad, I wanna show you something”. Emira called, while grapping her hand in her father’s arm and tooked him far away from the teacher while Edric keep distracting him.

“Care to explain?” Alador asked as Emira pulled him away from that hall.

“Nah, I’m fine”.

Father and daughter walked some more steps until Emira abruptely stoped and stared there for a few seconds while her face turned a little red.

“Is something wrong?” Alador asked. The hallway didn’t seem to have anything out of normal. Just some teachers, students and, because of the special ocassion, some parents, too.

“Oh, no no. Just, let’s get somewhere else and-”

“Hey, Em!” A voice called.

And with that, Emira’s face got even redder. 

Not as much as Amity’s angry face, but sure it was something.

“Ahahha, hiii Viney” Emira said, weirdly, as she walk up the hall to get close to the girl.

Alador, watching from the distance, scanned the girl.

Brown hair, double colored uniform and a familiar green eyes. She was way shorter than Emira (and probably the rest of her classmates), but seemed stronger.

“I thought you won’t be comming today”. The Viney girl said.

“Uhm, yeah, my, uh, dad is here... today”. And then Emira pointed in the direction Alador was. 

“Should I go and say hi?” Viney asked Emira. 

“No, you shouldn’t!”

Viney tilted her head.

Alador chuckled a little. He knew very well how the blush mess™ works. Alador thought that perhaps he should apologize to his daughter for inheriting that trait.

“I- I mean, sure you could but I don’t see why would you liked to do something like, meet my dad, pfft”. Emira was nervous, ok?

Alador from the other side of the hall, listening the best he could to the conversation and trying his best to not laught, waved a little his hand to Viney, wich she responded.

 “Anyway,” Em tried to change the subject. “Did your dad is here or...?”

“Yeah, actually, and if none of my siblings took him away, he should be... there!”. Viney pointed to a man talking to the healing track teacher. He was back on his back, so Emira couldn’t see his face but sure Viney’s dad was tall and buff and seemed like Viney inherited her brown hair from her dad, but, as Emira noted, her skin color should be from her mother’s side. Viney’s dad skin was tanned.

“Miss Tamer have done an excellent work. I’m glad she was able to come back to classes”. The teacher congratulated, as Emira could hear.

‘Of course Viney did excellent’, Emira thought. ‘She’s top student in both beast-keeping and healing. A complete cute nerd’.

“Well, thank you miss Alawdi”. Viney’s dad said. His voice was deep but friendly and he was notably happy about the teacher's comment.

“Oh no, you should thank Viney. She’s the one who put the dedication. And as much as I would like to keep talking about such a great student, I have to give more feedbacks to some parents. Good morning, Mr. Tamer”. Alador couldn’t stop himself from remembering the name Tamer. He had known someone with that same surname. 

And with that the teacher moved to talk to another of her students’ parents. It seemed more like scolding than feedbacking.

Viney’s dad turned around and looked for his daugher, that was still by Emira’s side.

“Dada,” Viney called her dad while he was walking to them. “She’s Emira, the friend I talked you about”.

‘She told her dad about me!’ Emira thought ignoring completely the friend word.

“H-hello mister, uhm, mister Tamer, sir” Emira talked first.

‘I really need to apologized for the blush mess thing’ Alador thought watching all the scene from the distance. Because of the perspective he couldn’t see neither of the Tamer’s faces, but Emira’s one was straight on his view. 

Alador noted that Emira’s left hand was hide on her back and was pulling her braid a little.

That was for sure a little tick that Odalia had too. Except that his wife pulled her dress skirt or shirt. Not her hair.

“... Yes, my dad’s over there”. Alador heard Emira said. He dozed out a little while remembering where his old locker was.

He looked to the only group of people, at this point, and he-

OH TITAN NO!

This isn’t  happening.

What were the probabilities? One in a million?

But of couse he had to have the one...

Because, Titan, Gradyel Fortis was, after all this years, in front of him. 

His last named changed, probably because, as he was seeing, Gradyel had a daugher, wich means that he is married. But, Alador could never mistake him, because Gradyel Fortis was his very best friend more than a decade ago.

Suddenly the shortest girl’s green eyes made a lot of sense. ‘It is her mother’s same green eyes’ Alador thought.

“Alador? Is that you?” Gradyel called.

“You know eachother?” Viney asked her dad. with a vissibly confused Emira beside her.

Alador walked to the group, feeling how his cheeks burned, just a little, nothing too obvious.

“That if we know eachother? We used to be best friends, and neighbors”. Gradyel explained to the girls.

“Really?” This time Emira asked to her dad. Her curiosity overlapping her nervousness.

“Yes, we used to hang out a few years ago”. Alador finally said.

“Few years? You mean few decades” Gradyel was laughing at this point and give Alador a pat on his back. Gradyel didn’t measure his strength, because of that Alador to choked a little.

He didn’t mind, after all, Gradyel Fortis never learned how to control his strenght, really.

He changed a lot, just like Alador did. But his essence was still the same.

The same Gradyel Fortis that he spended chatting in classes with.

The same Gradyel Fortis that he helped to cheat on a test.

The same Gradyel Fortis that tried to bake a cake for his birthday (and failed).

The same Gradyel Fortis that he helped to confess the girl he liked.

The same Gradyel Fortis that was Alador’s crush for almost four years.

.

.

[miss-choco-chips]

Young Just us college au

Rent a room, Dick said. It’ll be a nice experience. Don’t just buy a flat, that’s boring and lonely.

Tim had tried to tell his brother that maybe he prefered lonely to crazy, but Dick had insisted. And everyone knew just how difficult dealing with that could be, so he knew better than to resist.

At least, he had tried to comfort himself, he knew the people he’d be rooming with. They were all his friends, an odd assortment of assholes he’d picked up on school, summer camps, vacation trips, scientific events, even comic cons, and just… fell platonically in love with them.

Maybe, as Dick said, it would be fine.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

No, it wasn’t fine.

-Jay -he whispered into the phone, hoping he wouldn't be heard by the others on the other side of the door- Jay, they are crazy. I need extraction asap. We could fake my death and I can go to University somewhere else.

The older man laughed in the other end of the receiver, the sound of pages rustling indicating Tim had caught him during his daily grading paper sesion. That was the sound of crying students dying over carefully demolished arguments.

-They are all your friends, Timbo. If you fake your death, you’ll need to start over again and meet new people.

Tim hissed.

-Exactly, babybird. Also, this is day one of sharing a house, how bad can it possibly be?

-Jay, they left the kitchen lights on. It’s daytime! Why the hell do they need the lights on? Aren’t they aware of how big the bill is gonna be if they are like this?

-...Timmy, you… you are a billionaire. I think that should be the last of your concerns.

-That’s not the only thing. It’s so noisy, Jay. I choose the attic room hoping it’ll be nice and quiet. It’s not. I can hear everything. What do I do if some of them pair up? I’ll be stuck here listening to them having sex forever!

-...I don’t know where to begin.

-You can start by contacting B for me. He was right when he said it wasn’t a good idea for me to live with other people. But I can’t call him to help me out of this, because I think Dick blocked my number in his phone, and my emails don’t seem to be reaching him.

-He said it because you are the purest of his children, and he knew college was corruptive enough without adding dorm sharing to it; that was his version of helicopter parenting. But Timbo, it’s moving day. You’ve been there for less than five hours. And you already emailed B?

-The first thing Slobo did when he came in was to fart. In the middle of the living room. I can’t live with them, they are animals!

-They are your best friends, you’ve known them forever.

-But I never had to deal with them in a closed space for an unlimited amount of time!!! I’m trapped here.

-...

-...!

-...Are you hiding in a closet?

-...no. That would be stupid, in a three story house where I have my own/

-You are, ain’tcha?

-I am. Please help me?

Long sigh- I’ll meet you for coffee on the place near the Economics building so you have an excuse to be out for the evening while the others finish their moving. You’re done with your part, right?

-Yes! Thank you!

-You owe me.

-Next time Dick wants bonding time, I’ll sacrifice myself volunteering so you can run.

-And this is why you’re my favorite. Be there in ten.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim? Tim! Here you are!

Blinking was a thing Tim suddenly remembered he needed to do, and he did it a few times as his eyes were dragged away from his book by a pair of hands on his cheeks.

-Kon? What are you doing in the library?

The other boy was panting slightly, flushed from what Tim guessed was a desperate run there.

-I was looking for you! You never came back after classes were done for the day, and you didn’t pick up your phone. We were very worried, dude. 

-I was just studying, chill.

-It’s almost midnight.

No, it couldn’t be.

-No, it isn’t.  I haven’t been here that long.

Serious and slightly worried, Conner thrusted his own phone in Tim’s face and… uh. Look at that. It was nearly midnight.

-Oh. Got distracted with research, sorry.

-It’s been barely two weeks, how much can you possibly need to study?

Unprompted, Kon started to help him pack his books and papers. He seemed utterly amazed by the almost illegible graphs and charts.

-No, this isn’t homework. I’m working on a thing for WE…

The rest of the way home was spent with Tim talking Conner’s ear off about shit he had absolutely no idea about, but didn’t complain, just holding Tim’s backpack with one hand while steering his sleep deprived friend back home with the other.

-.-.-.-.-.

-Bart? -Tim yawned, getting into the kitchen and raising a confused eyebrow at his friend- It’s… three am. What are you doing awake?

-Stress baking -the smaller boy replied, never stopping stirring the bowl- You?

-Papers and presentations.

-Classes or WE?

-Bit of both. What are you making?

-Cupcakes. Want some?

-They’ll go great with coffee, thanks.

They spent the next half hour waiting for the oven to do its magic talking about video games, classes and evil teachers.

-Your brother is the worst. TA. Ever. He always grades my papers and he’s a bitch about them.

-He relishes in the pain. It’s what keeps him young. I swear he never grew  past fifteen.

-It’s scary, and honestly so annoying. Like, I get pointing out mistakes, but he doesn’t need to be a passive aggressive ass about it.

-I’ll let him know what you think.

-Please don’t. I’m afraid of him, and the power he holds in his hands. The power to make me fail Creative Writing.

-Why are you even taking that class? Actually, what even is your major?

A shrug, and before Bart could open his mouth to reply, the timer let them know the cupcakes where done.

-You can have one before bedtime, dude. The circles under your eyes look like make up at this point. 

-You are one to talk, mister Stress Baking at Three in the Morning.

-But unlike you, I don’t have to be up at the ass of dawn. C’mon, have one of these and back up you go.

-Bite me.

-I’d rather bite this peanut butter miracle, but if you insist…

-No! Bart, get away from me!

-Then go to bed!

-Go to hell!

-I AM in hell! I have Jason Fucking Todd as my TA!

-IF YOU DON’T GO BACK TO BED RIGHT NOW, I’LL KICK YOU BOTH ALL THE WAY THERE! -Cassie’s voice echoed in the walls, and they both blanched at the reminder that her room was, in fact, in ground floor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A part of college Tim had never considered, let alone readied himself for, was the… party bit. 

-What do you mean, of course you’re coming -laughed Anita, clutches firm on Tim’s sleeve as she dragged him into hers and Cassie’s room.

-No, I have to study for…

-You don’t have any midterm or final this week. I know, because I checked. No papers due either. This is literally the perfect time for you to party. 

-I can’t, I…

-Suck at socializing? Yeah, cher, I’m aware. That’s why awesome me is taking you as my plus one for this party. No need to thank me, glad to be your social buffer whenever you need me.

Tim started to resist in earnest when they got into the room and he caught a glimpse of the clothing Anita had apparently chosen for him.

-There’s no way I’m fitting into those pants! Let me go!

-I’ve seen you squeezing your butt into the vent that one time when Kon threw the key to the coffee maker cabinet inside it. If you could get in there, these pants are a piece of cake.

-No!

-Don’t make me hurt you, Drake.

-Anita…!

-Ugh! -she stopped, dropping Tim on her bed and crossing her arms. She averted her eyes- My ex is gonna be at the party. I might have been exaggerating a bit when I said I was over him, but I already promised my friends I was gonna be there. I… could really use your help here. I know it’s not your scene, but Kon and Bart have midterms, Slobo would straight up punch my ex with his astounding lack of subtlety, Miguel is away dealing with family stuff, and the girls are awesome but not really what I need right now.

A pause.

-Okay, but I’m absolutely not putting on that crop top. And we better not end up wasted, I have a reputation to uphold.

Spoiler alert: he did put on the crop top. And they had to call Conner to walk them home after the third time Tim walked into a lamp post and Anita fell into the campus’ pond.

-.-.-.-.-

They were walking back home late on a Friday when they were approached by a group of stupid, drunk dudebros. Tim was already dreading the moments to come before they even spoke, just by the way they kept eyeing Cassie’s legs and Anita’s rack. Cissie herself was wearing loose pants and a sweater, so she was safe from their disgusting examination. Not that it kept her from crossing her arms and looking down at the assholes.

-Heyyyyy, ladies. Wanna go clubbing with us?

Tim shrugged- He’s talking to you, girls. I’m out. Have fun.

Cassie caught him by his hoodie before he could take a single step. He heard her warning clear as day and sighed, defeated.

-Yess, you can go -slurred Dudebro number two, waving him away- There’ three of us, and three of those pretty things. You can get lost. 

-See, Cass? Hear the gentlemen. You don’t need me here.

Anita kicked him in the shin.

-No. We just got our nails done. You either solve this peacefully, or take care of it if it turns dirty. Why do you even walk us home if not to protect us from creepers like these?

A loud ‘hey’ came from the dudebros, but Tim ignored them. Silently, he pointed at Cassie’s legs (he had seen her crushing a watermelon between them once), Cissie’s arms (a thing of beauty that made multiple lesbians all around campus cry) and Anita’s katana (that she wasn’t supposed to keep on her person around other students, but who was gonna enforce any rules on the girl with the giant knife?).

-Excuse me? You three should be protecting me. I’m a rich, sheltered boy.

Apparently done being ignored, the three idiots decided this was a good time to throw the first punch. Which Tim dodged, without breaking eye contact with Cassie. She raised her eyebrow, not moving an inch. Cissie was examining her nails. Anita’s eyes promised hell.

He sighed, turned around, caught the second coming punch, and used the hand under his palm to force the dudebro to his knees. A knee to the face and then he turned to the other two. 

Next time, Slobo was walking with them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Flip side:  the attic room had its own bathroom. Significantly smaller than the ones on the other two floors, but hey, no sharing. 

The downside: apparently, the bathroom vents all connected with one another, and because of their aligning schedules, he often took showers at the same time Miguel did.

Flip side: Miguel had the singing voice of an angel, and the acoustic was fantastic. Showers were rarely boring now.

Downside again: Tim often forgot himself and sang along, but his voice… wasn’t as pretty.

Flip side again: at least, judging by Miguel’s smile, he found it adorable rather than pathetic.

Downside number three: Greta and Cissie’s room, by some unsolved mystery, also had connecting vents to the bathroom, and the archer girl was… less charitable about Tim’s inability to sing.

Flip side: Greta liked him better than most of their house mates, and she had more than enough dirt on Cissie to keep her from sharing the secret of Tim’s awful voice. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry I’m calling just now, it’s been a while.

-Hey Jay. Don’t worry, you’re busy grading papers.

-How do you know?

-Bart was crying in the tub this morning. Completely clothed and eating nachos with whipped cream, I might add.

-What is that boy even studying? I know he has Chem classes, Roy is his TA, and Kory saw him in the designer’s building. 

-That is an unsolved mystery for the ages. 

-Hey, speaking of your housemates, how’s it going?

Tim stopped on his way out of the kitchen, eyes growing fond as he examined the group on the living room. They were fighting over that night’s movie choice. He didn’t know why they tried, Greta was gonna win. Nobody could resist her and Miguel’s puppy eyes. 

-It’s… it’s been great, actually.

-Uh huh.

-But don’t tell Dick. He’ll be unbearably smug.

-Of course I won’t. You still have that time I crashed B’s favorite car on me.

-Oh, Oh fuck! -came Slobo’s voice- TIM, BRING THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!

A loud crash. Tim winced, eyes leaving his friend in favor of the wall. If he didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.

-TIM, BUD, WE NEED SOME HELP HERE!

-...what was that, Timbo?

-Nothing.

-TIM, TIM, THE TV IS ON FIRE!!! COME QUICKLY BEFORE IT REACHES THE XBOX OR SO HELP ME GOD I’M MURDERING EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM!

-...Tim?

-Don’t tell B.

-Gotcha. Going to save their lives?

-More like hiding in my room until they sort themselves out or die. Good luck on those papers.

-Good luck on surviving.

[artificialqueens]

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 6 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! it took me a while but here's a new update I hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-6-

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jan complained.

Jackie lifted her gaze from the book she was reading.

“This is the third time you say that… algebra can’t possibly be that bad.”

“For your consideration, there aren’t even numbers on these exercises, it’s Math… there should be numbers… where are the numbers?” She whined.

“Don’t look at me, why do you think I chose Art History? After high school, I promised myself my relationship with calculus was over.”

Jan sighed but focused on the assignment once again.

“Okay… I’m done… that was the last exercise of the sheet. I refuse to keep using my brain for what’s left of the day.”

Jackie chuckled.

They were alone in the copy room. It had been one of those quiet days; it was raining outside so Jan’s practice had been canceled but luckily her friend enjoyed her company while she did homework as well. In the past two hours, only a lost student walked in begging for a copy of a study guide for a mid-term for the following day. Jackie had the radio on and she had let the younger chose the station, Jan had picked a bubblegum pop radio that kept playing songs from the ’00s and the 10’s –to which she had found Jackie mumbling the lyrics a couple of times.

As much as she hated to miss her practice, she had to admit it was the first time in two weeks she had a moment to breathe. With her responsibilities and new hobby involved, she barely had time to take a break.

Jackie had her eyes on the book and one hand on the computer’s keyboard. She had been writing notes non-stop since her meeting with the dean. As she had explained it to Jan, her complaint had been discussed, and even when she presented a well-written note and had some witnesses to back it up, the only thing the university was doing was reprimand him and, –since it was the first time someone had said something about the professor’s behavior- let him continue his classes with a warning.

In terms of Jackie’s situation, they had dictated that she’d be able to present a final assignment that would include several –if not all- units of the program, and it would be evaluated by a panel of professors from similar backgrounds, to make it fair. The thing was that her former professor was the one that had formulated the questions and, aside from being a lot, they were pretty gimmicky and for all those reasons, she had started the assignment way earlier than the semester was over, just to be sure.

“Okay, I’m done for the day too.” She closed her notebook. “I feel like there’s smoke coming from my ears or something.”

“Oh, was it you? I thought it was one of the machines.”

Jackie scrunched her nose. “Anyway, it seems like it’s a slow day and I have ten more minutes here so… Do you want to go watch a movie at the cinema?”

“At the cinema? Whoa… I haven’t thought about it but it’s been ages since I went to watch a movie…”

“Is that a yes…?” Jackie did her best to hide her nervousness behind the question.

“Sure. But I have to warn you, I’m not good with horror movies.” Jan shrugged.

“I saw that coming… But there’s this old cinema called Bellamy, we could ride the subway and would be there in no time. They play random movies every day so we could just get there and grab a couple of tickets for the next feature. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. Oh! I’ll put it on the group chat in case anyone else wants to tag along.”

Jackie’s lips turned into a thin line. “Okay… you do that and I’ll finish here.”

Jan hadn’t even noticed the shift in the girl’s mood, she was way too excited typing the message on her phone.

“I hope you’re not upset but it seems it’s going to be just me and you,” Jan mentioned while Jackie closed the door of the copy room. “Everyone’s plans or they are studying or… I don’t know.”

“Oh… no… it’s fine by me if it’s fine for you.”

“Of course! It’ll be fun!” She smiled.

It was still raining outside so they shared Jackie’s red umbrella that matched with her rain boots.

“What’s with this downpour?” Jackie wiped some drops from her clothes once they got underground. “Okay, here we go.”

Jan seemed amused. “I have never ridden the subway… well, back when I was like four I’m sure my mom took us me and my brother but I have no memories of it whatsoever.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly. Honestly, it’s one of the easiest ways to travel when it’s not packed.”

Without objecting, Jan followed Jackie’s lead up close. They almost coordinated steps to avoid puddles while running; the comical situation got them laughing at loud all their way to the subway station.

“I’m out of breath.” Jackie leaned against one column before closing the umbrella.

They shook some drops out of their clothes and waited for the subway to arrive. When it arrived not even five minutes later, they rushed to climb onto the wagon before they got pushed by others passengers. At least with the rain, there was place to move and even some seats available.

Jan had decided she liked riding the subway, it was a great place to observe the diversity of the fauna of the city. There were all kinds of people around probably heading to their works or their homes or to meet friends or just somewhere different. It was exciting, to consider the unlimited possibilities.

She looked at Jackie and displayed a giant grin that had the other girl blushing lightly and looking away.

“So how did you find this place?” Jan asked after a couple of minutes.

It caught Jackie out of guard. “Huh? What do you mean?” She frowned lightly.

“I was wondering how did you find this place since it’s not near the campus.”

“Oh that… I actually discovered it a couple of years ago. Things at home with my mom after the divorce weren’t precisely on the best terms so after school I never got straight back there. Instead, I started wandering around and taking the subway or the bus to go anywhere really.” Her voice threatened with breaking but she quickly cleared her throat. “One of those times I ended up in this old building, a theatre with so much history and they played these movies I had never seen before so… I stayed there ever since.”

“Whoa… that’s…” Jan wanted to reach for her hand but the older girl hurried to jump off the seat.

“This is our stop.” She pointed out.

“Alright. We’re here.”

“We are.” Jackie showed her a smile and grabbed the umbrella, ready to face the rain. “Let’s go.”

They had arrived just in time for Carrie but since Jan had stated she didn’t enjoy horror films, they waited ten minutes for the next movie to start. Coincidentally, it was My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn so it would also work for research purposes –or that was what Jan said- aside from the fact she had never watched it.

Jackie couldn’t say she was a newbie to Hepburn’s movies, she had watched all of them at least once but having company was new to her. Since getting into college she had stopped needing the cinema as an escape, a way to avoid reality at least for a couple hours; it was after meeting her friends and starting her classes that she eventually had less time to go there or simply, didn’t need it anymore.

Now, it was a whole different scenario. She had Jan next to her and it was a bit magical to see her in the dark with the light of the screen reflecting on her face, something that made her heart race. She would’ve died to hold her hand at that instant but it was true that she’d also die if she touched her as if Jan held the power of burning her with a mere contact.

Then, the screen went black and the credits started rolling, the movie was over.

They waited until most people had left the room and then they walked out.

“So, did you like the movie?”

Jan tilted her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a period piece from time to time and the costumes were iconic but… Professor Higgins is awful!” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her displeasure. “He spent all this time torturing Eliza… changing her to the point where she couldn’t go back to her life. That’s a psychopath.”

“Oh thank God, we agree.” Jackie sighed with relief.

“No wonder Rosé and her classmates changed part of the plot because…”

“Yeah. I’m dying to see that. How are the rehearsals going by the way?”

“They are great, I have a small part… the equivalent of one of those ladies on the horse races and I appear in two numbers but the rehearsals are so much fun with everyone. It's a nice group of people that are passionate about musicals.”

They got out of the room and saw the people already gathering for the next feature. The smell of popcorn was strong in the air just like the humidity of the rain on the carpet.

Jackie spotted a familiar face and her eyes lighted up. “Oh my God, Sophie!” She waved toward a short old woman with white hair and giant round glasses. “Jan, you have to meet Sophie”

“Jackie, darling.” She shuffled toward them. She pulled Jackie for a tight hug. The woman barely reached her waist.

“Sophie, this is my friend, Jan.” She introduced them.

“Hi-” Before Jan could say something else, Sophie also hugged her.

“Sophie is the owner of the theatre,” Jackie explained once the old lady let the younger breathe.

“Oh! That’s awesome. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I have waited for ages for Jackie to finally bring a special someone…”

“No!” Jackie shook her head. “It’s- It’s not like that at all… We’re friends.”

“Pardon me, it’s only that when you introduced me to this lovely young lady I just thought… maybe someone had finally melted your cold façade.”

“Oh, Sophie… what are you saying?” She laughed nervously, her face was completely red. “Don’t listen to her… she’s old.”

Jan giggled. “It’s alright. I adore Jackie, she’s one of my best friends.”

“I haven’t seen this one in a while, you’d think she vanished or something.” The woman pointed.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I should’ve called you at least.”

“For sure.” Sophie nagged.

“It won’t happen again… I’ll come back more often after the midterms, I promise it.”

“Oh darling, you haven’t heard, have you?”

Jackie looked puzzled. “What?”

“The Bellamy is going to be demolished.”

“What?!” The girl’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“How?” Jan asked, in disbelief as well.

“Well, a group of rich people has decided this is the perfect location to build one of those department stores.”

“No, no, no… this can’t be. This place is sacred, part of the cultural heritage of the city, it can’t be destroyed to build a mall.”

The old lady shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it, it’s already written.” She patted Jackie’s shoulder. “Listen, honey, the important thing is that this place served its purpose for a long, long time and we got to enjoy it.”

Jackie was on the verge of tears. “How can you say that? How can you give up just like that? Without even putting a fight? The Bellamy is not just another cinema.”

The girl stormed out of the theatre before anyone else could say something.

“Wait! Jackie!” Jan shouted but she lost the girl in the crowd. “I’m sorry, I’m sure she didn’t mean any of that.” She softly explained to Sophie.

“You don’t need to tell me, I know. Now go after her, she needs a friend right now.”

“Yeah… I will…” Jan turned around.

“Oh, and Jan, one more thing,” Sophie called. “keep an eye on her, she seems inscrutable sometimes but she’s sensitive underneath.”

Jan displayed a tiny smile. “I know.”

“Jackie! Jackie wait!”

As if it didn’t matter at all, it had stopped raining.

She found the elder laying against the wall, next to a Casablanca poster that had been there since… well… probably since Casablanca first premiered.

Jackie’s cheeks were wet and her eyes reddened but she had wiped all the tears before Jan got closer.

“Hey… I’m so sorry.” Jan looked at her with soft eyes.

Jackie closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe it… this theatre is a home to me.”

“There must be a way to save it, we’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t know… it seems impossible… even Sophie has renounced.”

“Then we’ll convince her as well.” Jan grabbed her wrists. “We’ll find a way, there’s always a way.”

“Okay, Disney Channel Original Movie motivational speech.”

Jan chuckled. “What do you say if –for now- we go home and pick something to eat? I’m starving and... is it me or popcorn buckets are getting smaller?”

She got a smile from Jackie, that was a win.

“Plus, if I want to become a subway expert I’m supposed to ride it again, right?”

“I suppose that’s correct.”

“I’m telling you, I know this vegetarian place that has the best eggplant tacos and veggie sushi…” Jackie was commenting when they returned to the dorms.

“Sounds amazing, just let me pick some money from my room and we’ll be ready to go. You can come with me if you want.”

“Alright.”

They climbed the stairs until Jan stopped in her tracks making Jackie almost bump into her.

“Hey, careful there…”

But the brunette was petrified, watching the scene that happened on the very same floor of her dormitory. It took Jackie a moment to locate the event that had caused such commotion but as soon as she saw it, she just wished her friend hadn’t.

There he was, Nathan, the object of her affections, walking out the room of a girl that lived in the building. A different girl, it wasn’t the girl from the first day or another girl she had seen him with before. This was a gorgeous girl –like the others- but there was something different about him -him with her- the way he put the missing lock behind her ear and got closer to press a chaste kiss on her lips, the way they smiled after their lips touched.

Jan felt sick to her stomach, her face got pale and she barely could hold the tears.

The couple returned to the room and right when the door closed, she ran directly to her room. She desperately searched for the keys.

“Jan? Are you…?” Jackie touched her shoulder.

Jan sobbed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… I just… I need to find the keys… it’s like I can’t find them anywhere.” She kept rummaging her backpack without result.

It was too late, she broke into tears, her knees gave in and she ended on the floor.

“I’m sorry, this must look so stupid in comparison to the theatre but… It hurts so badly.” Her voice broke into pieces. “I keep telling myself it’s just another girl but there’s always another girl… It's exhausting.”

“Oh, Jan… no…” Jackie kneeled next to her and embraced her in a hug. “It’s not you.”

“I know that… it will never be me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She finally found her keys and got up.

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I’ve lost my appetite.” Her voice sounded weak, distant.

“No, wait… you don’t have to be alone right now.” Jackie hurried to stand up.

“I really… really… want to be alone.” She sobbed harder. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” She closed the door on Jackie’s face as soon as she got in.

“Jan!” Jackie knocked on the door. “Jan… please don’t do this. Jan, please… open the door.”

She tried for another five minutes but finally gave up. Jan wasn’t opening the door and the best Jackie could do was texting Rosé hoping the girl would come home earlier to take care of her.

It broke Jackie’s heart to see her like that, especially for a guy like Nathan, one that wasn’t worth the tears.

The following day, it surprised Jackie to find a text message from Jan early in the morning –earlier than any of her classes.

From Jan 🐻: Meet me at Lucky’s before class. It’s important.

Jackie jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready as soon as she read it, after a night of poor sleep she was waiting for that text message.

She walked straight to the diner and found her friend sitting on a table with her computer open and her pink-haired roommate sitting in front of her.

“Hey...” She approached the table.

“Jackie, you’re here!” Jan greeted with the same energetic tone she had –even that early in the morning. Although she looked hyped, the bags under her eyes told a different story.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Jackie asked before taking a seat next to her. She also eyed Rosé who just shrugged.

“Peachy.” She smiled. “Would you like a cup of coffee maybe? Waffles? Pancakes? French toast?”

“The waffles are really good.” Rosé pointed.

“Thanks… I’ll have some eggs maybe but… what’s going on? Yesterday…”

“Yesterday was yesterday and today is today.” Jan gestured with her hands. “I texted you because I have something super important to show you.” She pointed at her computer's screen.

That was it? They were going to pretend the Nathan incident hadn’t happened at all? Well, at least for Jan, that was the case.

“Alright… tell me.”

“So, I did some research and I believe it is possible to save the theatre if we gather enough evidence to prove it has historic importance for the city.” The page of the culture ministry was opened along with at least fifty different tabs on the subject.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

“I was hoping you’d come with an idea since you know the place better than me. Maybe Sophie could tell us some story or we could do our own research.”

Jackie sighed. “I guess it could work but we’d need to invest hours on this and… are you sure you want to do it? I feel like you have a lot on your plate already.”

“Oh no, she devoured the pancakes the second the plate touched the table, trust me.” Rosé assured.

“I was hungry and I didn’t eat them right away, they drew a face with the blueberries so I took a picture and posted it on Instagram first.” She shook her head. “As I was saying, this is important for you, Jackie and I want to help.” She stared at her, hoping she would convince her with those arguments.

“Jan, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t even try it.” Rosé mumbled. “I already did and she chose to ignore me categorically so I followed her here to make sure she didn’t jump from a bridge or something.”

“She’s also here to hit on my coworker so it’s really a win-win situation.”

They high-fived.

“That’s lovely… but we should talk about what happened last night…”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jan stated. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think…”

But Jackie was interrupted by Denali.

“Hi, how’s it going over here? Do you guys want something else?” She had her eyes fixed on her notebook.

“Can I get a cup of Americano and scrambled eggs?” Jackie asked. She needed some coffee to go through it.

“Right away. Do you girls would like something else? More coffee?”

“We’re good.” Jan smiled.

“Oh, Jan, I have your check over there if you want to collect it right now.”

“Thank you, Nali. I’ll be there in a second.”

Rosé cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

But it was like the cat had caught the pink-haired girl’s tongue.

“…if you can pour more coffee for me?”

“Sure.” She smiled politely but it was clear that Rosé was melting inside.

Once the waitress left, all the eyes were on Rosé.

“What? I got paralyzed. I can’t do it. I can’t. It is physically impossible for me to ask her out, my body reacts like that.”

“I believe, as science people and Twitter users have once referred to it, that's a case of gay panic. Have you tried in a different way?” Jackie asked before sipping some of Jan’s coffee. “What is this?” She winced.

“Decaffeinated.”

“Ugh…”

“Bitch, I have tried… I even left my number written on a $20 bill when I went to the bathroom earlier, hoping she’d see it but it’s like I’m invisible.”

“That’s not right. Denali loves to flirt and she’s single so I don’t see why she wouldn’t say yes. Oh, I know, you could invite her to the play's opening night.”

Jackie looked at the younger, Jan had dodged the conversation about her but there was no way her friend wasn’t going to dig into it later.

“Maybe I can pave the way for you… find out if she’s having a rough morning or something that affects her response.”

“Would you do that for me?” Rosé didn’t sound so sure about it.

“Of course, I have to pick up my check… my first check here.”

“Congratulations.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Thank you.” She then touched her roommate’s arm. “Leave it to me. I’ll be subtle.”

“Jan…” Before Rosé could say something, she was already heading toward the counter.

“Was it bad?” Jackie asked once the brunette left.

“Girl… You have no idea.” Rosé sighed.

“Thank you, Nali.” Jan held the check proudly in her hands.

“Is your name correct?”

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“Remember you work tomorrow so have a moderate amount of fun with it and stay away from ice skates and acrylic nails hot sales… Huh… I guess that only applies to me.” Denali turned around.

“Denali… I was wondering…”

The raven-haired girl dropped a pile of napkins.

“Shit. Don’t tell anyone but I forgot to put my contacts on this morning and basically, I can’t see shit without these giant glasses.” She murmured before quickly putting a pair of dark frame glasses on. She grabbed the napkins and after typing something on the computer, took them off immediately.

“Oh… that explains a lot actually…”

“What do you mean?”

Subtle Jan, subtle.

“So my roommate likes you.”

Denali almost tripped. “Wait, what?”

“She’s been trying to ask you out for the past weeks but she feels like you’re ignoring her.”

Denali dragged Jan behind the counter with her and kneeled before putting the glasses back on.

“Which one is your roommate?” She whispered.

“The one with the pink hair that comes here often… is a regular. You can't ignore her she's like one of those anime main characters with the funky hair.”

“Oh my God, Fine Wine is your roommate?”

“What?”

“She’s always singing that Kylie Minogue song and I thought it was a joke since you guys call her Rosé but…”

“That’s her name.”

“Well, she is fine wine.” Denali pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah? She even left a $20 bill with her number as a tip for you?”

“That was her?! I thought it was one of the creepy guys from table six. Oh my God…” She grabbed the jar of tips and started searching for the bill.

“Bitch if I’m missing a single dollar from that jar I swear to God…” Kandy yelled from the other side of the diner.

“Shut up, I’m in the middle of something here…” Finally, she pulled out the bill with pink glitter ink.

“It says XOXO Rosé.”

“What part of «I’m not wearing glasses» you didn't catch?”

"Is that a yes, though?

Denali nodded. She removed the glasses and waved toward their table. “Hey Rosé, if you’re not busy tonight, I’ll call you!”

Rosé blushed instantly but she nodded with a smile on her face.

Jackie, behind her, just shook her head, acknowledging that the shenanigans of her friend had worked out once again.

[goddesofimortality]

Sheltered Hearts

Prologue

Next

So in this story, the gang is older, in the equivalent of their Junior year in high school, but most of the story is the same. Of course, they will have a different school and teachers, but maybe the original ones will show up? I donno yet, but anyways, I wanted to try and play around with Felix a bit and combine the PV Felix with the Felix in canon. Tell me what you guys think, I hope you enjoy!!

___*♡☆ ♡☆ ♡*___

Marinette bit her lip as she inspected herself in the mirror.

She was sixteen now, in her second year of lycée and was unsure of what to do with her hair. She had always had them in pigtails and was comfortable with them, but as she inspected her reflection, she couldn’t help but feel childish. Was it her outfit? No, she was wearing a pretty simple white button up shirt with dots that she had made while experimenting with patterns and paired it with high waisted blue jeans. The blouse was semi-formal, but when tucked in from the front, it gave a casual feel and with the denim hugging her curves, it made her feel beautiful and powerful. Still, her dark hair sat upon her shoulders, begging for something to be done.

“Marinette,” Tikki warned as she finished her cookie.

“I know, I know,” with a sigh, she resigned herself to putting it up in pigtails once again. And just in time, because the moment her fingers released her hair tie, her alarm rang to remind her that she had to leave if she was to make it on time. With one last glance at the mirror, she nodded in satisfaction as she grabbed her coat and gathered her things before heading down her stairs.

“Morning sweetie! On your way to school?” Sabine sat at the kitchen counter aggressively filling out page after page of recipe modifications she would make to cater for a large party a few days from now. She took a sip of her third cup of coffee and held out a to-go cup to Marinette without looking up from her work. “It’s your favorite.”

“Thank you Maman,” Marinette took the warm cup and placed a kiss on her mother’s head before grabbing a warm croissant from a platter and making her way out of their home. She took a bite of the warm buttery bread, sighing in contentment as the soft layers almost melted on her tongue. She waited in silence for the crosswalk signal to change, and gave a warm smile to her old collége as she walked past it.

It had been two years since she had met Alya and Adrien, with Nino being a great addition to their group. Their last year at le collége de DuPont had been fun, they had spent the time getting to know each other and hanging out with their classmates. When everyone had transferred into the same school for lycée, they were all happy to find that their group was in the same class, with most of their former classmates spread out in other classrooms. Everything had started off great in their second year, but when the brunette transferred into their class, all hell broke loose.

Marinette took a deep breath and prepared herself to walk into class. With a simple count to three, she opened the door and was greeted with chaos before her eyes.

“Oh thank God!” Chloe cried in exasperation as she made an escape from Lila’s circle of friends. “Finally, someone else with a brain!” Chloe grabbed Marinette’s hand and pulled her to her seat with her. “I gotta say Dupain-Cheng, your presence is a blessing in a class full of people with no brains or class.” Chloe gave her a once over and raised a brow. “Is that another one of your designs? I gotta say, the black and white combo of the shoes is really calling to me, but the spaced out blue dots on white really do tie it all together. I’d wear that if blue were my color.”

“Thank you,” Marinette muttered shyly.

Being this close to her still felt strange and weird, but the blonde had really been trying to change for the better. Especially after Sabrina left to study abroad with a scholarship to a school of science in London that Chloe herself had recommended her for. Guess being Queen Bee had made her realize that she needed to be kinder to others and grateful for everything she had. Even if she still didn’t get along with everyone, it was still a huge difference.

The only time she ever really lost her cool, was when the brunette was involved and honestly, who could blame her? Even Marinette had thought of telling Lila off every now and then

“Morning Marinette!” Alya greeted as she walked past her and took her seat in the second row. It was clear by her tired eyes and immediate once-over of their homework as soon as she had sat down, that her best friend had yet to finish their assignment. No doubt, she had stayed up updating the Ladyblog last night until the early hours of the morning.

“Morning Marinette!” Adrien waved to her as he took his seat in the row across from her and Chloe.

“Hey Dudette,” Nino greeted as he sat next to Alya.

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted everyone as Lila took her seat next to Adrien.

“Good morning guys!” Lila gave everyone a wide smile as she looked around at the group. To Marinette, however, there was no hiding the anger in her eyes as she glanced her over. Lila Rossi was a lying manipulator to everyone in their class except for her. Oh no, to Lila Rossi, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was nothing more than a pawn that had to be removed.

“Good morning everyone,” Madam Beaulieu called out before calling up Marinette. “Can you do me a huge favor?”

“Sure! How can I help?” Marinette asked as she reached the teacher’s desk.

Madame Beaulieu flushed at the cheeks for a moment as she set down her bag. “I need to make a quick run to the ladies room. It would seem I made a small miscalculation on my timing.” She cleared her throat as she looked up at the clock, “Could you do me the favor of waiting for our new transfer student while I’m out? All you’d have to do is watch over the class until he arrives and introduce him once he’s here.”

Marinette, being a girl, understood the urgency of the situation and nodded as she took a clip board with the new student’s name and a note on the class plan. “Of course Mme Beaulieu! Take your time!” Marinette nodded as her teacher grabbed a small pouch from her large bag and thanked her while she rushed out the door as the final bell rang. “Okay everyone!” Marinette turned to the class as she looked down at the clip board. “Mme Beaulieu will be back in a moment, in the meantime, we’ll be opening our history books and reading chapter 10 and answering the summary questions. If you need any help, make sure to ask.”

Marinette took off her backpack and placed her things on the teacher’s desk. Being a class representative for three years, she was used to the role of watching a class while she did her own work. Sometimes she felt like a student and a TA at the same time, but she didn’t mind. Lord knew that she needed all the time she could get from school to learn her materials and get her homework done before going out for patrols at night. She had actually become really good about keeping up with her school work, though it wasn’t rare for a late night akuma attack to have her sleep in every now and then. But even then, her homework was always done on time and her grades in class were great. And really, if going over the materials more than once meant she could learn it faster, she honestly couldn’t care less about filling in for her teachers every now and then.

After filling out her questions, which she had already begun to work on the night before out of boredom, Marinette glanced at the yellow sheet of paper with the new student’s name and almost let out a shriek. Almost. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counted to three and let out a nervous breath. She was surprised when she opened her eyes and made eye contact with a worried Adrien, but she simply sent him a warm smile.

He smiled back before returning to his work, not noticing the heavy glare that Lila was sending her.

Marinette shook her head as she looked back down at the name on the yellow sheet of paper. It had been six months since his last visit, and he had caused quite a bit of trouble in just one day. Marinette looked up at Lila and then back at the paper. Last year had been an absolute disaster with only Lila to worry about, so she made a vow to herself to give him the benefit of the doubt and hoped- prayed, that he wouldn’t be added to her list of things to worry about. But to do that, meant she would have to forgive everything he had done to both Marinette and Ladybug, and actually try to get along with him.

She glanced at Chloe as she helped her desk partner with a question and nodded to herself. If Chloe could change for the better, then perhaps he could have changed too.

Marinette took a deep breath and tried to calm down her nerves while trying to read and work on the next chapter when she heard a knock on the door.

——tags—-

@supertomboyprincess I hope you enjoy this even though it’s a different story than before, let me know if you’d still like me to tag you

[bathtubjohnny]

Chapter 1: Rough draft (Edited once for spelling/grammar)

TW: Bloody noses, descriptions of a corpse, mild gore and swearing, spooky zombie lady, bad formatting, rushed writing

Note: Please give me your sweet sweet feedback. Oh how I crave honest and good-hearted criticism.

*Thanks to a handful of members from a group chat for convincing me to post this*

The forest was dense enough to blot out the sun, almost completely plunging the path in darkness. It didn’t bother Sydney though; he was too focused on the building at the end of it. It was a church, and he stood in front of it, staring up at the grey steeple protruding from what was left of the roof. It was a miracle that it was still standing. The walls had been scorched by fire, and the once-beautiful stained glass windows had melted into colourful, wax-like puddles. He could still smell smoke even though the church burned an impossibly long time ago. It never occurred to Sydney that the surrounding woods were completely untouched by the fire, as if it had never happened in the first place.

The inside was different as Sydney pushed the double doors open. He didn’t recognize the inside. It was more spacious than what he remembered, but like the forest, untouched by the blaze. Instead of red carpeting there was a wooden floor; instead of oil paintings depicting the trial of Jesus, tapestries with horrific, indescribable images decorated the walls. The interior had an ancient feel to it, making Sydney feel insignificant as he stood before the rows of pews. He could tell that it wasn’t a Catholic church anymore. It was a haven for a religion that existed long before the concept of Christianity.

Across from Sydney and past the pews was a stone table where the altar should have been. There was a white sheet covering something laying across it. As he padded down the aisle towards it, he could see symbols etched into the stone, characters he couldn’t recognize. The closer he got the louder his ears rang, his sinuses becoming so congested that soon fluid began leaking down his chin. It wasn’t until he reached the table and saw the bright red droplets fall onto the stark white sheet covering it that he realized his nose was bleeding.

Ignoring his instinct to wipe away the blood, Sydney reached for the edge of the sheet and pulled it back. Underneath was a girl, or at least the body of one. Her skin was ashen and waxy, a greenish-blue in colour. Small blisters had begun to form on her cheeks and forehead, as if she had been sunburnt recently. Even though they were closed, Sydney could tell that her eyes were sunken into her skull.

“Syd?”

Pulling the sheet down further, Sydney saw that the girl’s arms had been placed palms facing up, leaving the undersides of her forearms exposed. On both of them were deep gashes, starting from her wrists and ending in the crooks of her elbows. The rest of her had begun to decay, but her wounds appeared recent, oozing thicker, darker blood than what was dripping from Sydney’s nose.

“Syd, are you awake?”

The sound of her inhaling made Sydney’s attention turn sharply back to her face as her jaw creaked open, sucking in air. He stumbled away as her eyes, covered in a watery blue film, flew open. Her head turned towards him with a snap, sending him falling backwards in shock. He hit the floor hard as she sat up, bones creaking and popping as she threw the sheet off her bloated body-

“Mr.Patrick!”

Sydney bolted up from his desk as the shout tore through his dream, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. Mrs. Bray was sitting on her desk glaring directly at Sydney, arms folded. A snort of laughter to his left made him blush as he realized he’d dozed off...again. “Uh, sorry.” He mumbled, slowly sitting back down and trying to ignore the eyes on him. Although Mrs. Bray had a stern look in her eyes, Syd was somewhat comforted by the fact that she was obviously trying not to smile.

“I get that there’s ten minutes left, but let’s try to stay awake, alright?” She sighed. “To those of you who may have dozed off, I’m not repeating myself about the assignment. You can ask your group. Now,” She side-eyed the room. ‘Is there anyone who isn’t in a group of three yet?”

Syd sneaked a quick glance across the room over at his close friend Lizzie Abrams. She caught his eye and shrugged apologetically, motioning to two other girls sitting near her. Feeling his cheeks heat up, Syd averted his eyes, staring down at his desk in embarrassment.

“We don’t have a third person in our group.” The voice to Syd’s left spoke up, making him turn. It was a girl in a worn, blue and white baseball cap, someone who Sydney unfortunately recognized. Her name was Morette Woodward, better known as Mo, and Syd knew her as being the one who broke his nose during dodgeball back in fifth grade.

She had one elbow propped up on her desk and was leaning her head against her hand while picking at her braces with the other. When she caught Sydney’s eye, she flashed him a toothy smirk.

Mrs. Bray glanced between the two and shrugged. “Perfect, evens out the groups. Now,” she turned to address the rest of the class. “I’m giving the last couple minutes of class to organize your chapters, so use your time wisely. Remember your book and your portfolio should be in at least six sections!”

Portfolio? Sydney rubbed his eyes and groaned, wondering what else he’d missed. Falling asleep at random times wasn’t a problem before, but lately he'd been feeling lethargic and finding himself unable to keep his eyes open for long periods of time.

“Hey, scooch your butt over next to us so we can talk better.” Mo nodded at a tall boy sitting beside her. Sydney didn’t know who it was, but thought he looked familiar. “Yeah hold on,” he turned his chair to face them before leaning forward. “So… what’re we doing exactly?”

“Man, you were really out, huh?” The tall boy said, giving Sydney a sympathetic grin. “You were pretty twitchy too. Were you dreaming or something?”

Syd blinked. “‘Twitchy’? What do you mean?”

“Like...mumbling and tensing up a lot,” He clenched his fists in emphasis. “It was kinda creepy. What were you dreaming about?” He was already talking again before Syd could reply. “Oh shit, you don’t know me. Sorry, I’m Henry Kaminer.”

Kaminer. Sydney didn’t know Henry, but definitely recognized the last name. He remembered reading about the Kaminers in the newspaper, and made a mental note not to bring it up.

“Oh. I’m Sydney. I don’t really remember what I dreamed of.” Sydney lied. Henry laughed. “Yeah, I heard. Isn't Sydney a girl's...? Whatever, nice to meet you Sydney."

Morette handed Sydney a sheet of paper. “I had an uncle Sid so no, it's not 'a girl's name'. Anyway, literally all we have to do is split the book up to read for a week, then do some fun little questions and activities at the end of each week." She flipped through her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "It's like the same stuff we did in grade 5, but with racism."

So she does remember. Sydney looked over his sheet of paper. "Oh."

"Yeah, it'll be easy." Morette leaned back in her chair and scrunched her nose up. "There's 31 chapters, but they're not too long. Let's just do five chapters each week and read whatever's left when we get to the last week." She tossed a stack of pink sticky notes at Sydney. "Use those as a bookmark."

Sydney looked down at the sticky notes. “...Thanks.”

___

“Hey Syd!”

Sydney paused at the front doors of the school just as he was about to walk through them. Henry hurried over to him, lime green beanie clutched in one hand, messenger bag in the other. The tall boy stopped beside him, huffing. “Man, I jumped down the stairs to catch up to you. Sorry, anyway. Walking home?”

Sydney pushed open the doors, nodding. “Yep. What about you?”

“Same here, but uh...which way are you going?”

“To the left.”

“Sweet! Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure,” As they made their way past groups of students waiting for their buses, they started walking down the sidewalk towards the nearby neighbourhoods. Syd, who barely made it to Henry’s elbows, couldn’t help but feel self-conscious with the giant beside him. “Do you live close to the school?” He asked. Henry shrugged. “Well, not really. To be honest I’m just tagging along to avoid my older brother, Marvin.” He chuckled a bit, but it sounded forced. “He’s got his driver’s licence and all, but…”

“But what?” Syd asked. Henry sighed. “He’s an asshole. I don’t feel like dealing with his anger issues today. So I’m here with you instead, little man. If that’s cool with you,”

“I’m not that little! But yeah, it’s cool.”

“Yeah you are, shortstack!!” Henry guffawed and rubbed the top of Sydney’s head with one hand. Syd swatted at his arm, but joined in the laughter. The two boys continued talking and joking around as they continued trekking down the street towards a crosswalk. The weather was warm for being early September, the sun beaming down on them helping to keep Sydney in high spirits.

The first week of school had been rough for him; being as timid as he was, making friends was hard enough in elementary school, never mind being in a new environment. For the longest time he’d considered Lizzie to be his closest friend, but they’d drifted apart over the summer, making him feel even more isolated than ever. As he listened to Henry telling him about his pet cat, Bowie, he felt a ray of hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to be so lonely after all.

“...he’s a really sweet boy, but he’s pretty ugly,” Henry was telling Syd. “He’s got this weird skin condition though so there’s like almost no hair on his body. I think it’s kinda hilarious, but every time he sits down his butthole sticks to our table.”

Syd snorted. “Gross.” He stopped at the edge of the crosswalk as the traffic light turned red, Henry following suit. “I don’t have any pets. My mom’s allergic to animal hair. It makes her sneeze.”

“Damn. No siblings either? Sounds quiet.” Henry leaned against a pole covered in colourful flyers and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. Sydney took a couple steps back so he was standing in Henry’s shadow and decided that tall people weren’t that bad. “Hey,” he said. “My house is just up ahead, what about you?”

Henry shrugged and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Not me little man, I’m heading to the right but maybe I can come over and wreak havoc at your place sometime.” He flashed Sydney a grin and straightened up, a couple flyers sticking to him before fluttering to the ground. “Whoops, those seemed important.”

Syd rolled his eyes and laughed as Henry stooped down to scoop them off the sidewalk. “Nice going there, big guy.” He joked. “Careful you don’t bring the pole down too.” Henry didn’t respond; instead he slowly stood up, clutching a white flyer and staring down at it. Sydney felt his smile fade when he saw the dismayed expression on Henry’s face.

“...What is it?”

Henry swallowed hard before handing Sydney the poster. The white paper was crumpled and soft from being left outside, showing signs that it had been there a while. A photo of a man with a goofy grin and a buzzcut holding a balding cat was in the center. The words were in bright red at the top of the page as he read them.

MISSING PERSON

Jeremiah Lee Kaminer

Also goes by ‘Jerry’

19 years old, blue eyes, blonde, slim build, 6’0”

Last seen November 27th wearing a leather jacket, blue jeans, and brown hiking boots. If you have seen him or have any information of his whereabouts, please contact the Denville City Police.

“Henry,” Sydney glanced up from the page. Henry was fidgeting in place, avoiding making eye contact. “Is he...?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, staring at the ground. “It’s our oldest brother. He’s been missing for over a year. Went into a bar one night for a drink, and just…. Never came out.” A cold gust of wind sent the remaining flyers drifting down the sidewalk as they caught the breeze. Henry’s hands tightened around the poster, creasing the paper before he folded it into a square. “Whatever. I gotta go.” He turned and started heading down the street, leaving Sydney alone.

Syd watched him walk away, wondering whether he should call out or not. Deciding not to, Sydney went home, ignoring the icy loneliness that had begun to creep back.

[veggiewrapwithhummus]

So here’s a story a wrote for english class at the beginning of the year. The word limit was 500-1000. I had 999 words. But then I attempted to edit it last night instead of doing homework. Here we go, it’s not my best but that’s fine. Its based in mid to late 1800s Wild West kinda thing. It’s a work in progress that’s probably never going to be finished.

"Whoa, there, ya-"

The voice of John Allum softened as the small, old Scottish man led the nervous team pulling the dusty stagecoach down Mainstreet.

As I watched the coach travel farther down the street, I thought to myself, 'I wonder what kind of things are in there today? Maybe it's a General from the east to escort criminals! Or it's more food for the stores. Or-'

"Charles Miller!" My teacher's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He stood there holding his cane, looking ready to hit something. The bright sunlight was shining through the window onto his slightly red hair, making it look as if it were glowing. All around him, my fellow students turned away from their studies. To watch as I got scolded by our teacher.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gaines. It won't happen again."

Mr. Gaines shook his head. "I'm sorry, that will not help you. That is the third time this week, Miller. Hands." I lifted my hands so that they were hovering above my desk.

As my teacher struck them, I tried distracting myself by thinking of the upcoming fishing trip I had planned with my best friends: Matt, and Philip, and the last conversation I had with my older brother, Peter, before he left for medical school.

And as I recalled our last meeting at the train station, my teacher once again shattered my thoughts with his loud, piercing voice.

"Okay, class. Tomorrow we will have a test on the war of 1763. Make sure not to be late. That means you, Mr. Brunner."

The class snickered as a whole. I glanced at Matt to see his reaction, but all he did was wink at me. Chuckling to myself, I packed my things into my bag and walked through the sea of little kids to the door that leads to freedom. The sunlight shone on the dry, dead grass, causing it to look golden, and the orange leaves on the trees glow like candles. The smell of fresh bread floated through the air, and it was so strong that I could almost taste the seasonings.

I stood there, breathing in the fall air, and tried to soak at the moment. Across the field, younger boys were playing with an old ball; older girls were walking down the dusty old path that went to town. They did this every day, yet something felt off.

I pushed that thought away as my best friends walked towards where I was standing. Mathew Brunner and Philip Taylor. We had all been friends since we were only starting to walk. That says a lot because now we were 14, nearing 15.

Matt is taller than both Philip and me. Though, not by much. He had thick blond hair, dark blue eyes, and was thin.

Philip was almost the complete opposite with his dark curly hair, brown eyes, and roughly half a head shorter than Matt. But like Matt, he was also pretty thin. That was most likely because he had five younger siblings, so there wasn't always enough food to go around.

"Thinkin' 'bout Estelle agin'?" Philip teased.

"Hm? Wait! What? NO!" I huffed. They wouldn't take that as an acceptable answer. "No, I wasn't."

Matt said, "He wasn't thinking about her. He was thinking about when he needs to start building their home." He put his arm around my shoulders and said very seriously, "I can give you advice for that, my friend. Start now so that by the time you have ten kids, everyone will fit."

They burst out laughing. I just rolled my eyes. They had been doing this for multiple years. Ever since the day that Estelle Davis came to our little frontier town. I made the simple mistake of saying she was pretty, and they had taken it as a chance to make fun.

We walked together to the cafe, where we all bought some bread for our families. "Thank you, Ms. Grace!"

"You are certainly welcome." She slipped a cookie into each of our bags. "Shh. A little treat for you boys."

'Man, Ms. Grace is the nicest old lady in town.' I thought to myself as I scoffed down my gingersnap cookie. We headed down the dusty old street, careful to not get run over by any of the horses and buggies, to the general store. Thank goodness Philip's younger siblings weren't there. There was a generous, new supply of colorful candy that made my mouth water. After debating if we should get one, we went to get what we needed.

I picked up a bag of flour. "Wow, the flour price is $2?!"

"What?" Matt poked his head around the corner of the aisle.

"Philip, come look at this."

I held the bag out to him. It took him a second to find the tag, and when he did, his brown eyes grew big. "There go my hopes of buyin' somethin' extra." He handed me back the bag and grabbed one for himself.

BANG

All three of us jumped at the sound of the gunshot. We dropped our groceries and ran outside. We weren't the only ones. All around us, people were coming out of buildings and stores. Then I spotted him. Could it be? All the air in my lungs was suddenly gone. I sprinted to the man on the ground in the middle of the road.

"Pa!" I screamed, tears pooling in my eyes.

My father was on the ground, a red circle quickly forming on his stomach. His eyes were unfocused. "Charlie? Is that you, son?"

I looked around to see if I could find the person who had done this to my father. He stood at the end of the road, wearing a white cloak with crimson red stains. In the man's left hand, he held a pistol. The mysterious man looked me right in the eyes and then vanished into thin air.