#which will probably be my catch phrase for the next four years

[inkpotsprite]

An old deleted snippet from my work 'Cats and Communication.'

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Sky's Canvas"

This little future Swan-Jones-Mills family fic envisioning them during their happy beginning post-s6 would probably have been well suited to Father's Day last week, but I didn't think of it until too late. I hope it will still be enjoyable this week too. It's a part of my one shot collection on AO3 or ff.net (if you'd prefer to read it either of those places instead) I hope you have fun picturing this alternate idea of what might have happened - and I'd love to hear what you think!

Notes: I toyed with the idea for this one for quite some time. The prompt elements that I have used are: a museum, the phrase “it was just a joke”, and also some small art facts – mostly about the particular museum itself (which is real). I have also put in a CS daughter (my personal head canon imagined one, Morgan Ruth Jones, whom I have written about before), and a college aged Henry. So, this is set somewhere in an alternative post-season 6 reality, where Henry stays in the Land Without Magic to seek his story, and also to be close enough to visit his family often, and for them to return the favor…)

by: @snowbellewells

The bubbly, nonstop chatter of her four-year-old little girl, which has cheerfully been filling Emma Swan’s ears for the past hour and a half, suddenly stills, immediately grabbing her attention and setting off an interior maternal alarm. She turns to seek out Morgan Ruth Jones – her little pirate princess – wondering if her daughter has yet again managed to sneak away from them and find herself in some sort of trouble.

Luckily, Emma doesn’t have to look far before she hears a chortling trill of baby laughter and locates her toddler with the disheveled head of dark, ringlet curls and twinkling, mischievous eyes – an aquamarine mix of her own green gaze and her father’s ocean blue – standing before a huge oil painting of a Spanish galleon rocking precariously on the stormy main and looking up at her father with fixed adoration. “Really, Papa?” Emma hears Morgan chirp, practically bouncing on the balls of her little feet as she tugs anxiously at his hook in eagerness to hear his answer. “Was it a storm that big you sailed ‘Roger’ through when you went to save Henwy in Neverland?!”

Emma is just chuckling wryly at the changes which have transpired in her life to give her a little girl more interested in daring adventures, ancient naval ships, and sword fighting than frilly dresses or dolls and makeup, even as her husband raises his eyes just enough to smirk at her knowingly over Morgan’s head, when another voice, youthful, warm, and settling into its masculine, adult timbre, answers Morgan’s question from over her shoulder, announcing Henry’s arrival to join them. “It was bigger, Pipsqueak,” he confirms jovially, pausing briefly to wrap a wiry arm around his mom in a quick side-hug before continuing to the side of his younger half-sister, kneeling to her level and adding with a gleam in his eye, “A mermaid summoned it to drown them all.”

“Hen-wy!!” Morgan squeals with glee; the painting, and even her papa’s beloved ship, forgotten as she flings herself into her brother’s arms with enough force to nearly bowl him over, causing Henry to chuckle as he catches her close to his chest.

“Hey Munchkin,” he greets affectionately, standing to his full height again – now even with his stepdad’s – still holding Morgan, her arms wrapped around his neck so tightly that Emma has to wonder if she’s ever going to let go. Turning to include his mom and his surrogate father in his next statement, Henry adds. “It’s great to see you all. Things must be quiet in Storybrooke, if you’re still going to stay all weekend.”

Here he arcs an eyebrow in curious bemusement, a trait Emma realizes all too well that he has picked up from her dashing scoundrel of a husband and probably uses to equally charming effect on all the girls he meets in his freshman courses at Bowdoin College. It is clear he has settled easily into the small arts school in Brunswick, Maine, just under a two hours’ drive from them, and that the campus atmosphere and freeing anonymity and normalcy he has there must be agreeing with him. Emma wants to snort in disbelieving laughter at his jest, though well aware that he knows better than to ever think his hometown would go completely, boringly normal. Instead, she shakes her head resignedly, merely giving her grown son a playfully long-suffering sigh. “You know how it is,” she shrugs, “never a dull moment. But – if you don’t count the dwarves coming to blows at Granny’s the other morning because Tom Clark accidentally sat in Leroy’s spot at the counter and got his flu germs on Leroy’s plate of bacon and eggs…���

“Which I do count,” Killian interrupts smoothly, winking at his adopted son. “I am the one who risked infection from the virus in forestalling their skirmish.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her deputy husband’s interruption and mutters “drama queen” under her breath, which Henry and Morgan both clearly hear and snicker at before she continues, “Otherwise it’s been as quiet as it ever gets. No deathly dangerous villains or curses meant to tear us apart and wipe our memories blank.”

“Yet…” Killian adds on needlessly, an ominous tone in his voice acknowledging the fact that they all know it’s only a matter of time before some new threat is wreaking havoc again. Their sleepy little town might seem like a place lost in time and space, but it is still a veritable magnet for trouble, and none of them can deny it.

Killian, however, waggles his brows playfully after his foreboding aside, making Henry shake his own head at his stepfather. It had seemed a rather grim pronouncement for the reformed pirate – more like his mom, really.

Morgan grins widely back at her father, nodding in gleeful agreement, her gap-toothed smile showing where she has lost a fair few of her baby teeth recently. “Yeah…yet!” she exclaims, not fully understanding the concern behind the sentiment, but always ready – as is her entire extended family – for action and excitement.

Emma shakes her head in humored exasperation at her two “children” – wondering, as she often does, how someone who has seen and experienced as much as Killian, who has witnessed some of the worst humanity had to offer and suffered at their hands, who has lived so long and weathered such crushing heartbreak and hate, can still easily find such simple, child-like joy in the littlest things. “Really, guys?” she questions, looking to her college student son for more mature support. “Can’t we just enjoy things being normal for once?”

“Aye, of course, my Love,” Killian replies deftly. “ ‘Twas merely a joke,” he adds, leaning over to brush a quick kiss to her brow that makes Morgan giggle, hide her face in Henry’s shoulder, and cry out, “Eww, they’re kissing again!” in a frank, tickling whisper against her older sibling’s skin.

“Just a joke is right,” Henry declares, motioning them forward to venture on into the rest of the Bowdoin College Museum and toward the particular exhibit he wants them to see. The collection was an 1811 bequest from a wealthy benefactor to the school and was one of the earliest college art collections in the country, as Henry had enthusiastically told her over the phone some weeks ago when his project had commenced. His Maritime History class had done a cross-curriculum partnership with the arts department to put together a student exhibit of research and mixed media in the college’s museum, and Henry has been quite secretive about his entry, even if insistent that they needed to see it in person. “Like anyone could be around you lot for long and think you were normal!” he scoffs.

“Ha ha,” his mother laughs drolly, bumping into his side with her shoulder in playful retribution as they move ahead side-by-side, with Killian, who is now holding a wriggling Morgan once again, following closely behind. However, once the jostling ceases, Emma grasps her nearly-grown son’s hand in hers for a moment, stunned anew at how much he has changed from the little boy who had found her in Boston all those years ago, and led her into the very life she has now. Squeezing tightly with emotion welling up in her throat, she wishes he could truly understand how much she loves him.

“Missed you too, Mom,” Henry murmurs softly, pressing her fingers back with his own wrapped around them. It is more than enough and makes her heart flutter in gladness.

Once Henry leads them through a few different rooms and several intriguing displays, he slows when they reach a large, somewhat circular room with a high, arched ceiling, and then turns to them with a mysterious smile on his face and clear anticipation in his big, brown eyes, just as they have always held, even at ten years old.

At first glance, this particular exhibit, this room in itself, seems empty. Looking around with faces equally full of curiosity and confusion, Killian, Emma, and Morgan end up staring back at Henry expectantly until Killian finally speaks up, “Begging your pardon, Lad, but I’m afraid I am not quite certain what you wish for us to see.”

Henry gives a nod of acknowledgement, rather knowingly pleased, and making Emma smirk to herself with a mother’s satisfaction at seeing her son so confidently happy and in his element. ‘He’s definitely got something up his sleeve,’ she thinks affectionately, admittedly finding herself anxious to see what his surprise might be. She knows that Henry has been loving this course all term – not to mention how thrilled her husband had been at the news – and that the long term practicum research projects are being showcased here throughout the entire month of April. Emma can only conclude that her son’s hard work has paid off in a way he’s proud of, and he must believe wholeheartedly that they will be too.

All Henry says is, “I take it you’re ready then?” and at Killian’s nod and Morgan’s “Yes, yes, YES, Henwy!!” exclamation, while she hops up and down exuberantly, he switches off the lights and presses a previously unnoticed button next to the light switch.

Immediately, the light and airy sound of some sort of flute or piccolo trickles through the quiet air of the room, a gently evocative melody with a lingering, haunted quality to its tone, enhanced by the sound echoing beneath of waves washing gently against the hull of some easily floating ship or back and forth over the shore of some deserted bay. Even as the sounds which are familiar and comforting to his tiny family audience wrap around them, small pinpricks of light appear just like stars in the night sky out on the ocean, sparking to life on the walls around them and the high ceiling overhead. It is a constellation spread out just for them in breathtaking majesty. Then, the Author begins to narrate his newest story…

Listening to Henry’s words, Emma feels her breath catch just a bit in both awe and emotion, glancing quickly over at her husband and daughter, before either of them realizes they are being observed. Morgan’s green eyes are wide and sparkling with interest and excitement, her mouth an open “o” as she looks above her, dazzled at what would appear for all the world to be the stars and constellations in the night sky brought indoors and spread out for their entertainment. Killian is silent and still, so much so that Emma knows – as few others would – just how valiantly he is battling some strong emotion…how very touched he is. Emma was never as great a student of the star charts and navigational astronomy as her sailor would have loved to make her, but Henry ate it right up, and she would bet her battered and beloved old VW that Henry has recreated some particular display that holds an extra meaning for he and his stepdad alone.

Shaking herself slightly to bring her focus back to earth and her attention back to the words of Henry’s presentation once more, she hears her son’s voice – soothing, engaging, and reeling her into the adventurous stories behind the scattered specks of light arrayed above them and their meaning and guidance to generations of sailors making their ways on a wide and pathless sea.

“The Cygnus,” Killian mouths silently beside her, appearing genuinely awestruck as he takes his gaze just momentarily from Henry’s representative “sky” to look in the eyes of the young man he has for years now cared for and loved like a son; a sincere gaze of fond understanding passing between them that brings a film of unshed tears to Emma’s vision that she has to rapidly blink away. In fact, soundless though it may be, she catches Killian’s comment only because she is so focused on her husband and his emotional reaction to this gift Henry has given all of them – but her pirate in particular. Emma senses that Killian knows it in this moment and holds tightly to his fingers twined with hers while practically beaming at her son, wondering again how she ever got lucky enough that the two most important people in her world would love each other as much as they each love her.

Morgan reaches over from Killian’s arms to pat her mother’s cheeks as Henry concludes his tale and turns the lights back up. “Don’t cry, Mama,” Morgan coos sweetly. “Henwy’s story was happy in the end. The Swan leads the sailor to his home.”

Emma smiles shakily at her daughter, and then the rest of her family with their looks of understanding. “I know, Baby,” Emma murmurs softly, still brushing away the evidence, but with her smile growing broader all the while. “Don’t worry. These are happy tears.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @branlovestowrite

@linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors

[avalentina]

My newest fic, this one will most likely end up being published as a series. For now it is in my Harry Styles page on my Masterlist. I'm not sure how long it will be, and I'm still working on the story itself so it might be a bit before I post more, but the poll showed that about 2/3 of you wanted it now. So without further ado ...

Word count: 4,074

Warnings: bits of anxiety, depression, feeling overwhelmed; Robin Twist's death, grief; unnamed douchebags who want you for your money and title

Noble!Harry (Peerage!Harry) x Princess!Y/N

Note: This story features certain words in multiple languages mainly traditional Chinese, but I have put the English word or phrase in parentheses directly after the translated word or phrase.

Ex: Mǔqīn (Mother)

The Princess's Lover

Zero: Enchanted Love

(any and all pictures are not mine, all I do is collage them, pictures of Harry are a reference for his appearance during the specific moment, all other pictures are only for the purpose of an outfit/hairstyle/accessory, Y/N can look however you would like her to)

I remember the day as though it was just yesterday. Hard to believe it was closer to five years ago now.

(FLASHBACK)

I was at yet another ball, sometimes it feels like my parents, the King and Queen of MiraZhou, host one every week. I'm 19 year old Princess Y/N, the only girl to graduate from my private high school without ever being kissed. I've had a few offers for courtship, none of which I've accepted, all of them just a family's desperate attempt to increase their wealth, status, and favor in the eyes of my parents. I'm being the perfect princess, as I usually tend to be. I've never found anything I wanted to rebel for, I mean I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have more choice in my life, but I guess you could say I'm terrified to actually find out what that would really entail.

This ball tonight was a masquerade, not that it actually made a difference in my case, seeing as I’m stuck wearing a tiara. The one I'm wearing may be my second favorite tiara, and my favorite formal tiara, but it does a wonderful job at making it known exactly who I am. For that reason, I've actually been trying to avoid talking to anyone at tonight’s ball.

It’s not until I’m summoned to my parents’ side for the formal ‘thank you for hosting’ part of the night that my care for this particular event heightens. My family knows everyone in our court based on their voices alone. As a family of four gets to the front of the line. I recognize the voices as Duke Desmond, Duchess Anne, and Lady Gemma of Duchy Holmeshire, but it’s their son that I can’t say I’m familiar with. As they make their approach, I catch eyes with him, the soft green of them is mesmerizing, I feel as though I could get lost in them and just be happy.

“And I see Lord Harry has returned from University, Cambridge in England correct?” My father asks Lord Harry directly.

“Yes, your majesty, uh sir.” Lord Harry replies, fumbling his words slightly probably to do with being away for so long, but he has an english accent that he must’ve developed during his time abroad, and it definitely suits him well.

“It’s good to have you back in MiraZhou Lord Harry.” My mother says, offering him a gracious smile. “I don’t believe you’ve formally met Princess Y/N?” she adds.

“I have not, It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, your highness.” Harry says to me as we make eye contact again and he does another short bow.

I can’t help the wide smile that appears on my face as I return the introduction. “Likewise Lord Harry,” I say and offer him my hand to kiss. A gesture I don’t give out lightly, and you can tell that by the tiny gasp that slips out of my mother’s mouth before she stifles it, and the way Duchess Anne’s smile grows a tad bit wider.

As the Styles family of Holmeshire takes their leave so the next group of nobles can greet us, Harry and I caught eyes one more time and I mouthed silently ‘bye’ with yet another wide smile.

After the “thank you’s” were over, my mother and father turned to each other. I heard my mother tell my father, “I’ll invite them to the palace for dinner one day next week.” I smiled to myself and excused myself for a brief restroom break, that I spent staring at where Harry had kissed my hand, remembering the softness of his lips, and how I really hope he didn’t have any other potential matches. Harry and I didn’t get another chance to talk that night, but we always seemed to be catching each other’s eyes, even from across the large ballroom.

“Y/N, darling, the Duke and Duchess of Holmeshire will be joining us for dinner tomorrow night.” My mother said at breakfast that following Tuesday morning. My attention perked up at that.

“Are Lady Gemma and Lord Harry joining them?” I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Not this time, but they both will be joining their parents here for dinner on Thursday night.” She said with a smile that I returned. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up about a courtship dear. Tomorrow night will allow your father and I to find out about Lord Harry’s current status, and any potential matches he may already have.”

“I know Mǔqīn (Mother), thank you, and I apologize for my obvious reaction, I’ll work on those some more.” I say, apologizing.

“Xiǎo jiāhuo (little one), we're happy you're actually excited about a possible courtship. I saw the way you lit up that night, it reminded me of how happy the first few conversations I had with your mother made me. Which is why you, Lizabeth, and Helena will be having dinner in the slumber party suite you used to enjoy. That way we can shield you from whatever potential hurt there may possibly be.” Father adds to mother's comment.

“And darling, your expressions are wonderful, a princess should not be void of emotion, nor always show indifference, your emotion shows your honesty in that feeling and that is what makes you an amazing princess. Your manners and etiquette are exactly where they should be. True feeling is just as important as manners and etiquette. Now run along, you have classes to get to.” Mother finishes out our conversation. I love attending University, it's the only time I'm allowed to wear jogger pants and hoodies in public. With no makeup or tiara or heeled shoes. I am intentionally supposed to look unimportant, because it does help me blend in a little bit more and instead of eight guards I only have three, all dressed down to appear as students as well.

My midnight violet Lamborghini centenario topless with ‘gongzhu (princess)’ as the license plate is the closest resemblance to royalty I get. After my classes for the day are done, Creyton, who is my lead guard, and I head to my favorite nearby pizza truck for a slice each before we return to the palace. Our usual nearby chess table is taken today and when I look again, it's none other than Lord Harry and a friend of his playing while enjoying a slice as well.

I elect to take the table next to them which happens to be open. As Creyton and I begin our setup and start talking, Harry turns to me, having probably recognized my voice.

“Your highness, what brings you out into the city today?” He asks quietly, careful to avoid drawing attention to me. He turns to Creyton and offers a handshake.

“I attend university in the city, so classes, but my lead guard, Creyton here, and I usually stop for a slice or two and a few plays on a chessboard before heading back.” I say with a small smile.

“We really should be going Y/N.” Creyton comments, now that I've been ‘recognized’ we have to head straight back or risk breaking protocol, and I like having Creyton around too much to let him get fired for something as simple as a protocol violation.

“I'll see you at dinner on Thursday night H.” I say to him, not wanting to compromise his lunch either. With that I head back to my car. Creyton follows me closely and we met up with the other two members of my security team. They share a very brief ten to fifteen second report before we get into the cars and head back to the palace.

“Princess, you know you're not supposed to talk to anyone besides me during that time, and you're definitely not allowed to advertise my name and who I am.” Creyton says to me during the quiet drive back to the palace.

“I know, I'm sorry Creyton, I wasn't expecting Lord Harry to be there, let alone at our usual table. It won't happen again, and I fully understand any repercussions that arise.

Lizabeth and Helena were not the best of distraction that night. Especially considering all they talked about was Lord Harry's return from England, and how attractive he is.

“Ladies, please, his parents are downstairs having dinner with my parents.” I say aloud and both girls turn to me.

“He's here? Lord Harry is here? Y/N please you have to introduce us.” Lizabeth practically begs.

“He, is not here, just his parents, and I will consider introducing you after they find out if he's available for a match. And if he is, I've pretty much already got dibs, I hope. Did you two miss the candids of him kissing my hand and the wide, stupid smile on my face.”

“Oh my God, Y/N has a crush! It's about time.” Lizabeth squeals.

“And on that note, we promise to back off, but if he has any extremely attractive friends please promise to introduce us.” Helena states and I smile.

“I know he has at least one semi-attractive friend. But he definitely wasn't from here. His accent sounded way too Irish.” I said and they both just looked at me. “I’ll look into it, I promise, just not right now.” They both grumbled a bit, but agreed.

It was late Thursday morning when my mother and father both entered the study I use for my schoolwork. I have three different 20 page essays due next week so I decided to have one of the kitchen staff bring breakfast to my study. I just finished finalizing and submitting one, and was polishing the second when they knocked. I closed my laptop so I wouldn’t be distracted by my essay while they told me whatever it is they have to say.

“Look at you, working hard on your economics degree.” Father said, smiling proudly.

“But that’s not why we’re here Damien.” Mother interrupts before he can continue on that line of topic further. “We’re here because we thought you might want to know more about Lord Harry Styles before dinner tonight.” She continued.

“He is not currently courting anyone, and Duchess Anne mentioned that he asked her to help him get up to speed on where you’re at and what has been keeping you occupied lately.” Father said and I legit squealed. It felt like hundreds of thousands of butterflies were dancing in my stomach. “We figured that would be your reaction and wanted to make sure you had ample time to put your finest princess foot forward for dinner tonight. We’ve arranged a walk through the rose garden for the two of you before dinner starts. Lord Harry will be here at four, and dinner is at six.” He finished saying.

“So in girl terms, you might want to start getting ready now.” Mother added with a smile and I quickly excused myself and hugged them both before taking off towards my rooms at nearly a full sprint.

“Mel, Marie, Helga!” I hollered into the staff door from my entry room. Mel and Marie are my new ladies maids and Helga is assisting them in learning everything before she officially retires next month. The girls tie half of my hair up into a braid and a bun, and then curl the remaining pieces, I have a simple gold and diamond tiara, gold gladiator flats, and a one shoulder golden gown. I ended up on the gold because i knew it would reflect in the sun during our walk, and it’s also a color I’ve always loved wearing. Plus it’s proven to be a confidence booster, and I have a feeling i’m going to be in need of a lot of that tonight. Other than my title, I have no idea what I have going for me in regards to why I’d make a good match. Though I’d rather he like Y/N, rather than just Princess Y/N. I needed to be radiant tonight, for myself, although, who wouldn’t want to look golden?

At exactly 3:56 pm I make my way towards the main palace entrance, it’s a solid five minute walk from my rooms, and it usually takes guests anywhere between fifty and seventy-five seconds to go from the drive, up the stairs, and finally step inside the doors. Which means that if I timed this correctly he should be just stepping inside the doors as I step off the last step to get to the entry foyer.

I maintain my normal pace and arrive to the front entry in exactly five minutes. However when I get there, Harry is already waiting for me in a mostly black suit, a bit of gold on the shirt, and a black suede hat.

“My apologies Lord Harry, it took a bit longer to get ready than I had anticipated.” I said to him as soon as I had made my approach.

“Well, it was well worth the minute long wait, you look radiant your highness.” He says back with a bow. “Shall we?” He suggests and holds his arm out for me to take.

“You’ll have 12 feet of privacy.” My mother informs us as I take his arm and we depart. I wave a small goodbye to my mother and father before turning all of my focus onto my walk with Harry.

“You’re going to have to guide me, I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea where we’re supposed to be going.” He says with a small chuckle.

“I suppose, though getting lost does sometimes lead to finding something unique, fascinating, and totally unexpected. A left at the spiral hedge just up ahead.” I say.

“That’s true, it’s an adventure, that much is for sure.” He replies with a smile.

We walk in silence for a minute or so as we enter the rose garden. He pauses just before the first fountain.

“Why me?” He asks a few seconds after we stopped. He’s staring into my eyes and I can’t help but stare back. “My mum told me that you have a habit of turning down courtships, and being very selective about who you let kiss your hand, so why let me? I mean you could have your choice of princes from distant lands, lords with so much more wealth, and fame than myself, the male heirs of duchies that make mine look infintesimal.”

“I hope this isn’t awkward of me to say but to be honest, the first time we caught each other’s eyes, I felt like I could be lost in the soft green of them for eons and be happy for each second of that time. That’s not a feeling i’ve ever had before.” I say, he smiles and the way it lights up his entire being is pure magic. I can’t help but smile too. “It’s actually why I wore gold today, I knew I would struggle to say what I wanted to…”

“And you needed the confidence boost?” He finished my exact thought. I nodded and he smiled again. “Me too, I knew I would need it to even manage to say a word to you.” He continued as we started walking again. “I can't help but feel leagues below you.”

The conversation flowed so easily from there, it was one of the easiest conversations I've ever had. We talked about university, our degrees, our families, our childhoods, my dogs, our favorite books, movies, shows, anything and everything. As we approached the entrance again he paused one more time.

“I’d like to have another outing with you soon, and I also want to aopolgize for making you violate protocol in the park the other day.” He says to me, and I have never met someone who means everything so genuinely, who is so kind hearted, and it just feels almost right to be around him.

“I’d like that as well, and as far as the other day is concerned, that is my fault, I know not to engage with the public while undercover like that, I couldn’t stop myself though, because it was you and I wanted to have a conversation with you.” I say back, desperately hoping it’s not too much.

“May I?” he asks and begins to reach for my hand. I gladly let him take it and press his soft lips to it once again. I feel the blush rising in my cheeks, and I smile as he offers me his arm once again. We make our return in silence, just sharing smiles with each other.

Harry and I had about two outings each week for the next couple of months, but he still hadn’t asked for permission to court me. It was beginning to stress me out to the point where my parents took us down to one outing every other week. We would text in between, but I was still terrified that he would never ask me, that he didn’t see in me what I saw in him. The every other week outings turned into two outings over a three month period, the texts had stopped, and I was afraid that I was going to have to accept a courtship out of obligation rather than want. It might sound weird, but after almost seven months of knowing Lord Harry Styles, I was in love with him. I was in love with someone who didn’t even want to court me.

The Styles family joined us for dinner on a Monday night, and I was to tell Harry that a courtship was no longer an option, I was to be courting another Lord within the week. I was at least happy my parents agreed to let me tell him privately with a chaperone just twenty feet away.

When they arrived that night, something felt different between all of them, something had happened to them. I was dressed in a ruby red and gold Qipao with a gold plated ruby and diamond tiara, my hair was pulled back into a woven ponytail style with curls for volume. Harry was in all black except for his shoes which were a camel color, and his long hair was also pulled back. It was the first time I had seen it that way, and it was definitely doing something for me, no matter how much I wished it hadn’t. When he finally removed his sunglasses for dinner, I had initially wondered why he was wearing them in the first place, but I saw firsthand why, when he politely removed them before dinner. His normally bright, soft green eyes were slightly puffy, he had definitely been crying.

Dinner was terribly quiet, no one felt like talking, Harry seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact with me and it felt like everything was seriously ending. I excused myself for a few moments which I used to try and compose myself, what I was about to do was beginning to feel overwhelming and almost painful. As I went to make my return, Harry was already waiting for me in the rose parlor as my family called it. It looked out to the rose garden and the vases were filled with roses of all colors.

“Harry? Did something happen? Your entire family was quiet during dinner, it worries me.” I asked him quietly.

“Yes, I’m not sure how much you actually know, but my parents aren’t actually together. My mum maintained her title when they split just because of how loved she was by the people of Holmeshire, your parents actually had to approve it. I was only seven when they split, and have maintained a relationship with both of them, my mother moreso though. She has had two relationships since, one which none of us speak to anymore, and the other, Robin, he passed from cancer a little over three months ago. It was getting progressively worse and I just knew I needed to be there for my mum, which is why I stopped texting you, and why it was hard to find time to see you. You have to believe me when I say I wanted to see you, Robin was a good man, he made sure I had good values, and taught me that it’s actually ok for a man to cry.” Harry explains to me, I just sit and listen quietly, knowing he just needs to get all of this out. “My mum has been trying to slowly reconnect herself back to my father over the past six weeks and while it is definitely an adjustment for all of us, I want to start doing things for myself again, rather than just doing things for my family, I want to get back to spending more time with you.” He finishes speaking, and the tears I have been trying to force down, overflow.

“Harry, we can’t, my parents are expecting me to start pursuing other potential matches at tomorrow night’s ball. I’m supposed to tell you that,” I cry while trying to explain it all to him. Harry being the gentle and beautiful soul he is, uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. I take a few deep breaths before continuing, “Harry I’m to tell you that courtship is no longer an option for us, I’m meant to tell you goodbye, and it breaks my heart to say that to you. I… I need to go.” I say and attempt to rush out but Harry stops me with one word, “wait.”

“Y/N it’s not tomorrow yet, let me try one thing.” He says and steps closer to me.

“Harry, we shouldn’t, I can’t, you can’t do anything Harry, our chaperone is right there, just twenty feet away, and my father…”

“Relax, I’m not going to do anything like that, I want to ask for permission to court you in front of everyone, tonight.” He says with a smile.

“I suppose it’s worth a try, I don’t want to say goodbye to you Har.” I say softly.

“Then it’s settled, and we’re doing this now.” He offers me his arm and I take it, hoping it won’t be the last time.

When we get back to the dinner parlor where everyone else is, still sitting in silence. Harry grabs their attention immediately.

“Excuse me your majesties, Princess Y/N has just informed me of everything, and it upsets me greatly, especially because with my family’s recent loss of Robin, I needed to take time to put them first, and put their well being above my own, even though I would have much rather been spending that time with her highness. Which is why since it’s not tomorrow yet, I’d like to ask you for your formal permission to begin a courtship with her highness Princess Y/N.” Harry announces.

“I suppose you are correct Lord Harry, it is not tomorrow yet, and I suppose…” my father begins, turning to look at my mother, who nods at him, before continuing. “I suppose that my wife and I can excuse your recent absence and forgive you for upsetting our daughter.” he wraps up.

“And as long as it’s what the Princess wants…” My mother picks up and looks at me, I nod eagerly, a wide, bright smile returning to my face for the first time in months.

“It is, it’s everything I want.” I say happily.

“Then you have our permission, and our blessing to court Princess Y/N.” My father announces. I’m just so happy that I was wrong about Harry not wanting me, I hug him. He’s surprised at first, but hugs me back almost immediately. It’s the best feeling in the entire world, to be in his strong arms, I'm impossibly happy.

“Okay, that’s long enough.” My mother says as my father wraps an arm around her waist.

“Sorry mother,” I say, breaking apart from Harry. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it though.

The conversation for the night livens up after that. Harry and I are allowed to sit next to each other on one of the couches. We’re holding both of each other’s hands and whispering to each other for the entire rest of the hour. Just before we go our separate ways for the night he whispers the best phrase in the entire world to me.

He simply says, “I love you,” squeezes my hands again, kisses them both, and heads towards the Velychnyy (Majestic) Suite.

Hope you enjoyed!

As a quick reminder as of 1/17/24, I'm still working on this story, I don't want to post any of it until I'm finished writing it (mostly potential format changes) so please be patient with me and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future The Princess's Lover (TPL) posts by commenting below!

-Ava

[mastersoftheair]

So just to clear the air (and I guess my massive confusion) Harry never slept with Sandra, correct? I gotta say I need to read his memoir at this point as he is so intriguing to me, as well as masters of the air book, but like you said it’s a “blink and miss it” thing. I didn’t interpret it as anything more than having a few friendly conversations. It was more about emotional infidelity to me than physical, but given the circumstances and that exact heartbreaking point in time for Harry I can’t find it in me to blame either of them.

for me, ig i'm coming at my position from a place of bias. i'd read crosby's "a wing and a prayer" sometime in either 2021 or 2022 (those years blend together tbh), so i've had a lot of time to think about those 2 and their relationship and i lean towards "yeah, it likely happened" (this is a long response btw bc i'm quoting from the memoir):

crosby introduces his new friend, alexandra "landra" wingate (aka sandra westgate), in the chapter "learning about americans from the british" (this chapter was basically what we see in episode 6). moving on from this tho–

in the chapter "with landra in london", he expands on their growing relationship and the reader learns more about landra (she is genuinely Such an interesting person, and probably a spy). crosby writes about her with such admiration, regularly bringing up how smart she is. also, she's a captain!

this chapter's pretty important in how i formed my opinion on the matter. i understand the argument that the closeness of their relationship was intentionally left vague, but this chapter reads in a way that makes it feel Heavily implied despite not saying a lot (especially alongside crosby's emphasis on his wife jean being "four thousand miles away", as well as his own loneliness and despair wrt to all the missing and dead). there are some standout lines here:

-"I had Jean at home and Landra in England." (not a red flag, but it's a flag) -"I started seeing Landra every time I could." (cool) -"All I knew was that [Landra] was making my life much more endurable." (also cool) -"I did not tell Jean about Landra." (the last sentence of the chapter. it gave me pause and almost instantly reshaped the way i viewed that whole chapter)

the next chapter, "r&r with jean", crosby recalls how much the war took a toll on both him and his relationships. for a time, jean wrote more letters to croby than the other way around ("I began to skip writing to her."). i assume crosby must've been radiating Exceptionally negative energy bc he gets told this: "Croz, we can't stand to have you around. We want you back, but we want you to go home for a while." (i found the phrasing here really funny tbh. your vibes Suck! just Get Out of here!!)

so, crosby contemplates seeing jean again, wondering how both of them may have changed. he also brings up landra, for Some Reason: "What would I think of her? Protected in the States as she was, how would she compare to Landra? Now that I had grown so much, had such experiences, how would Jean and I fit together?"

the rest of the chapter Is about meeting and catching up with jean, however, and you can tell that he loves her a Ton. it's very sweetly written (he also basically ends the chapter saying "btw, we conceived our first child ;) ")

the final chapter about landra is "london junket" which begins with "When I returned from the United States and my idyll with Jean, I knew I had to do something about Landra." i think that sentence alone is pretty damning. if landra was just a friend, why would you be anxious about calling a friendship off? is it a guilt thing?

the context here is that crosby feels Far less lonely and depressed. he's met up with jean, life in london is finally "a delight". i found that important bc it gives me the impression that crosby desperately wanted companionship (possibly of two kinds), and he found that in landra– a friend and a maybe a [REDACTED]. now that he's having a great time with his friends in the 100th And he's met up with his wife, that itch's been scratched (that's just my opinion tho). bc of that, he decides to say goodbye to landra. they have this exchange:

"When a month passed after you were to return, and you did not phone me," she said, "I suspected that it was over. You found things good with Jean?" I told her about R&R in the U.S. I told her more about Jean. I told her about Stephen Patrick, Jeffrey Allen, or Evalyn. "When I realized you were gone," she said, "I no longer said no to a nice American at my office. I have been with him several times. I like him." (interesting) "I’m glad." (also interesting) "He is not married, He is not so dashing as you, but we have good times together." Me "dashing"? That was not my self-image. So much for Landra."

all put together (and with over 2 years to think about it), i Really kinda saw That Scene coming. but, like i said, i had that bias. and since i'd had a good amount of time to think about them, i came out the other end still excited to see them on screen. i found (and still find) landra a fascinating woman who must've had an exciting life (crosby's okay too ig lol). i also see them as a couple of imperfect, even selfish, 20somethings (speaking as an imperfect and selfish 20something). not to be corny, but "it takes 2 to tango". landra is Very intelligent, and crosby recounts how that aspect of hers left him in awe. she'd've 100% known the guy was married. and if signs point to her having had sex with the man, then she either made peace with it or simply didn't care (a lot of women are like that). plus, they're real people and real people contain multitudes idk. maybe some wife somewhere across the atlantic is hard to care about if you've never met her and never will. maybe it's hard to consider your wife's feelings in the midst of your own misery. a female character doesn't have to be wholesome and pure to be considered well-written. that certainly doesn't apply to most male characters. like you said, no one is perfect!

maybe, crosby left it vague out of respect to his wife. maybe it's vague bc nothing happened anyway (funny way to write it tho). maybe the wingate family wanted to avoid association with MotA bc it Literally didn't happen. or maybe they know it happened, but want to keep her name clean out of respect (who wants one brief relationship that happened 80 yrs ago to define you/your loved one decades later? that's 100% understandable). whichever the case, even crosby's kids are in a 50/50 split. i still lean towards "it happened", but it doesn't make me dislike either of them. they're flawed and i can respect that more than the show portraying either as picture perfect.

NONE of this is to say that i'm cool with cheating (or giving a "world war cheating pass", so to speak). while i find it realistic, it still wouldn't have been fair to jean, whether she knew about it or not (being a woman in the 1940s wasn't easy by any stretch). this Also isn't to dismiss anyone else's opinion on the matter, bc cheating on your partner is still a shitty thing to do. this whole spiel of mine is bc i like to share my opinions and i'm allergic to being concise. i write like i talk and on all levels except physical, anon, i'm giving you a long-winded rant over coffee and croissants lol

thanks for the ask!

[princehrry-writings]

Daddy?

happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I've been working on this for a couple weeks!! It's the longest one-shot I think I've ever written.

word count: 5180

please please please flood my inbox with your thoughts and comments!! i want to know what you think!!!

warnings: some swearing (i think), absent birth father, single mom, nothing too serious.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her.

or

Y/n is a single mom and Harry wants to be a part of the family.

.

.

.

Getting pregnant was definitely not something Y/n wanted to be doing at 20 years old. She had a boyfriend and the career of her dreams but as soon as the news broke, one of those things was no longer true. Her ex skipped town faster than she could even finish telling him she was pregnant, so Y/n was left to her own devices since her family was so far away.

She was a songwriter. She had worked with all the big names in the industry from Taylor Swift to All Time Low. She was known for being able to write in any genre, that’s what set her apart and why people were clawing at the chance to work with her.

And then she got pregnant. She kept writing songs until she was eight and a half months along but due to minor complications, her doctor had ordered her to stay home. So she did. She stayed home, had the baby, and raised her all by herself. Now that baby, whose name is Stella, is four years old and is traveling the world with her mom. Y/n had gone back to work when Stella was a year old. At first, she would leave her baby with a sitter, but eventually, she got to a point where Stella was old enough to come along to writing sessions and quietly color or play with toys in a corner. She really liked going to work with her mom. She got to see a bunch of cool places and meet a lot of nice people.

And one of those people was Harry Styles. Y/n had met him a few times back when he was with One Direction, had even tried to work with the band a few times but things never lined up right. But now he was making his second studio album and only wanted the best of the best to write with him so naturally, he called Y/n. Harry knew she had a kid but he didn’t expect her to bring said kid to a writing session. Harry didn’t really mind- he loves kids, but his friends had been known to curse a lot and he didn’t want to cause any harm to the child.

He made sure to give everyone a stern talking to, even though Kid already knew to hold his tongue (his little ones had repeated some colorful words a few times). He wanted everything to go right, needed it to. Y/n was more than just another songwriter.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Harry smiled as she walked into the studio. She smiled back, walking into his open arms for a hug.

“Thank you so much for having me, I’m super stoked to be working with you!” She said, slightly muffled by his neck. Harry looked down behind Y/n and saw a little girl that looked exactly like the woman currently in his arms looking right back up at him. When the two pulled away Harry was quick to kneel down to her height.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her. Although he wasn’t mad, he understood Y/n had to teach her not to say things like that even if they were funny.

When Stella had settled at a table out of the way of the adults in the room with her coloring book and a juice box, the work began. Y/n and Harry sat at a piano bench ( he hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart) while Kid and Mitch, along with Jeff, sat scattered around the other furniture in the studio.

“So, I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been sitting on that I think you might like. You can look through this and see if there's something that catches your eye.” Y/n said, handing Harry a notebook. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt run up her arm when their fingers brushed. He flipped around the pages, noticing random little doodles in the corners and in between lines, and the somewhat messy but readable handwriting. He thought it was cute how she connected her s’s to her t’s and k’s when she wrote.

One page, in particular, caught his attention.

Golden, Golden, Golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus

So you take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Brown my skin just right

“Is this a verse or a chorus?” He asked, pointing it out to her. She shrugged saying she didn’t really know yet but it would probably be a verse.

“I like it a lot,” He said and she smiled, picking up her guitar and strumming it to the tune she had thought of for the words. He listened and nodded along, already getting ideas for where to go next.

“I like the golden thing. I think that could be a good hook, something like we’re so golden,” Kid spoke up, tapping his fingers along to what she was playing.

“Or you’re so golden,” Mitch suggested. Harry and Y/n’s eyes widened at the same time, both looking up at each other when they heard the line.

“You’re so golden, you’re so golden…” Y/n hummed.

“I’m out of my head, and I know what you said about hearts get broken,”

“How about I’m out of my head and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken,”

“I like that better, yeah!” Harry smiled, nodding along to the beat.

Y/n looked over 30 minutes later to see Stella had sprawled out on the floor with her arms folded beneath her head, first finger stuck into her mouth, and she smiled, breathing out a laugh.

“She’s so precious,” Harry murmured from beside you. Your gaze found his and the smile on your face widened a little bit.

“She is, isn’t she.” She said, pride present in her eyes.

“Looks just like you as well,”

“Yeah thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if she had ended up looking like her sperm donor,” Malice dripped from the end of her phrase. Y/n couldn’t even entertain the idea of her looking like the man who helped create her. That nerve was still a little raw, not because she had any remaining feelings, but because he had abandoned not only her but the beautiful baby girl who was napping not 15 feet away from her. She figured they were better off without him, yet her heart always shattered a little when Stella asked if she had a daddy like the people she sees on tv.

“I couldn’t imagine finding out the woman I loved was pregnant and then leaving her, any real man would have stayed.” His eyes were genuine, which she appreciated. Most people would say they felt sorry for her, pity dripping from their gaze, but she didn’t need pity, didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. But what Harry said was out of pity, he just honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would abandon a child.

“Yeah well, I guess I just wasn’t the woman he loved.” She said, looking back at her baby. Stella made all of that pain from when he disappeared worth it.

Harry wanted to be able to take that pain away.

---

“Hey I know it’s late, but I have this idea and I want you to hear it,” Harry’s raspy voice chimed through the speaker of Y/n’s phone. She glanced at the time, reading 1:30 AM, and sighed.

“Ok,”

“Come open the door,” He said.

“Wait what? You’re here?”

“Yeah, come on. It’s cold out here.”

“Ugh, hold on,” The woman sighed, hanging up and tip-toeing out of her room so her footsteps wouldn’t wake the sleeping four-year-old in the next room over. Her door was open and she was a light sleeper.

The door swung open and Harry stood there with a small smile on his face, burrowing as deep into his coat as he could to shield himself from the cold air outside.

“Hi!” His cheeky smile made Y/n’s heart flutter.

This was the first of many times he would show up at her place in the middle of the night.

---

Another night of Harry coming over late with a song idea he couldn’t wait to show Y/n, although now it was more he would come over after Stella fell asleep and the two would watch movies and talk, and sometimes write songs (even though the album was done).

The pair were perched on the couch in a heated conversation about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza (it does and that is a fact not an opinion) when the sound of little footsteps caught their attention. They both looked up from where they sat at the sound of loud crying coming down the stairs, seeing a small child with tears barreling down her face, cheeks flush an angry red, first finger stuck in her mouth, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Y/n cooed, getting up and sweeping her into her arms. She went and sat back down on the couch, cradling the baby to her chest, brushing her hair out of her face, and rocking her back and forth.

“Scawwy dweam mommy,” She hiccuped into her mom’s neck, where she hid her face. Her tiny hands clutched onto her shirt, finger stick tucked between her lips.

Harry held back a coo at the little girl, feeling himself fall further and further for the little family of two sitting before him. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off of them since that first day he met Stella. He’d always had a schoolboy crush on Y/n since they first met all those years ago but knew it was one-sided when she introduced her boyfriend one of the last times they had seen each other. As fate would have it though, they found their way back to each other. Neither of them could deny the feelings they held, but Y/n was scared to bring someone into the picture because she didn’t want Stella to get attached to someone who wouldn’t be permanent. She was lucky her ex left before he ever got the chance to meet Stella, the kid had no clue what she was missing, therefore didn’t have any pain due to her absent father.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t imagine Harry stepping into that role. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He was at a time in his career where he didn’t have time to be the father of a four year old.

But life is full of surprises.

“Hawwy.” The baby whimpered and crawled off of Y/n’s chest, into his lap and snuggled her head right into him like it was where she was meant to be all along. His heart just about burst when the little girl fisted his shirt, tucking herself into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her into him and rocking her back and forth like her mother had been only moments ago.

Stella calms down almost immediately, to Y/n’s surprise. It usually takes her a while to console her baby from bad dreams, but all Harry had to do was hold her, and boom, no more tears.

“You alright petal?” He cooed into her hair, soothing his hand up and down her back to keep her calm. She nodded, letting out a huge yawn and closing her eyes, falling back asleep in his arms.

Y/n was astonished. Stella had never fallen asleep on anyone but her mom or her grandmother. She’s known Harry for a few months and was acting like he’d been there her whole life.

“Wow… she loves you.” Y/n whispered, not really meaning for him to hear but he did and his smile gave her the impression that he loved her too. But Stella wasn’t the only one he felt such affections for.

“Y/n....” He starts after a moment of silence, “I know this sounds crazy because we’ve only truly known each other for a few months… but I’ve had feelings for you for years. I missed my opportunity when you got with your ex but I’m here now, and I love you, and I love Stella, and I would do anything to stay in both of your lives if you’d have me. I want to be here for you, and I want to be here for her as well.” His confession shocked the woman sitting across from him.

Y/n was quiet, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while she took in what he was saying. Trying her best to keep her fantasies of playing house with him at bay, she spoke.

“Harry, as much as all of that sounds lovely, you’re about to start press for the album and then go on tour. You’re not gonna have time to be in a relationship, and as much as I wish I could just jump into something like that, I can’t. I have her to think about…” She gestured to the toddler sleeping on him.

“She needs consistency, her life is already hectic enough.”

“So come with me!” He spouted, and then retracted a bit realizing he could wake Stella up.

“What?”

“Come with me! You two travel around already, so come on the press tour with me and then come on the big tour with me! I know this sounds impulsive and it’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said in my life ever, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. I know what I want Y/n, and that’s to be a part of this family. I want to be a part of your lives!”

“Harry, I-”

“Please Y/n. Give me a chance! I won’t let you down!” The gleam in his eyes shows her that he’s serious. He really does want this. Harry just hopes that Y/n can see just how willing he is, how much it would mean to him to have (what he already affectionately considers to be) his girls with him on tour.

It’s quiet, only sounds of Stella’s even breaths and the light noise of her sucking on her finger fill the room. Eventually, Y/n gathers her thoughts, mind made up.

“We’ll try it out… see how it goes….” She said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. Harry’s smile grew tenfold at her confession, reaching over and bringing her face closer to his to kiss her lips, careful not to wake the baby in his arms.

He had never been happier, Harry decides, than he is right now.

---

“Hawwy?” Stella’s voice catches Y/n’s attention from where she sits on the plane, in between her and Harry. She turns her little head to the man sitting in the aisle seat, big round eyes staring right into his.

“What is it, lovebug?” He asks, pushing her wild baby hairs away from her eyes. Y/n did her very best not to coo at the two of them. Harry had fallen perfectly into step with the mother and daughter, like this duo had been a trio all along. She was still hesitant to think of him as a father figure for Stella though, just because if things went south somehow, she didn’t want her baby suffering a loss like that (a second time).

Stella’s little fists rubbed at her tired eyes. She let out a small ‘hmph’ and laid her head on Harry’s arm, wrapping her own little arms around his.

“Awe you my daddy?” She asked and Y/n choked on her spit, looking back over at the toddler.

“Stella, baby-”

“I would love to be your daddy lovebug, but that’s not really up to me…” He spoke and glanced up at Y/n quickly, trepidation clear in his eyes. Harry was afraid he might overstep. Sure he knew that things were still new between him and Y/n but he wanted nothing more than for Stella to think of him as her dad.

“Who’s it up to?” Y/n could tell she was about to fall asleep but was fighting it in order to get her answers. She had adjusted to a more fast pace schedule quite nicely. She slept through most plane and car rides and absolutely loved being backstage at concerts. Harry thought she looked so adorable with her big noise-canceling headphones on. They had been on the road for a few months now, and it had been 8 months since Y/n decided to give him a chance.

“It’s up to mummy, baby.” He answered, his fingers tangling into his chestnut curls in a futile attempt to keep them out of his face.

Stella’s head immediately whipped to look at her mom, who sat frozen in her seat, not knowing what to do.

“Mommy, is Hawwy my daddy?” She repeated her question. Y/n had a feeling that Stella thought Harry was her real dad, the one that her mom didn’t like to talk about. She had to make sure there was no confusion.

“Not like you're thinking he is, baby. He’s not your birth dad, he didn’t help mommy make you, but if you want him to be your daddy, then that’s ok with me.” Y/n locked eyes with the man sitting across from her with a smile on his face. She was glad that they were flying private because she really didn’t need anyone ruining this moment for them. All her fears of this not working out felt stupid now.

How could she ever think that things with Harry wouldn’t work out? He was right where he belonged.

---

“Daddy!”

“Baby!” Harry knelt down to catch the running (almost) 5 year old, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms. They were in England for two weeks on tour. One for shows, and one so that Y/n and Stella could meet Harry’s mom and sister for the first time as a part of the family. Y/n had met them before as “a friend of Harry’s” many years ago, but they had never met her as Harry’s girlfriend, and they hadn’t met Stella.

Currently, Harry was in the middle of a show and Stella had just escaped her mothers arms side stage in favor of running to her dad. Y/n still couldn’t get over saying that. Harry is Stella’s dad. She doesn’t think that will ever get old.

No one knew how serious the relationship between Y/n and Harry was. The public knew they were together (after a very vague post on instagram of the mother/daughter duo napping with the caption “my girls”). Many people thought this was a PR stunt, just because it was so unlike Harry to post something like that. But he had actually confirmed in an interview that, yes, he was in a relationship with the songwriter and it was pretty serious. That was all he chose to say, in favor of keeping his secrecy, as he so famously loves to do.

What came as a shock to the audience was what the child had called Harry. They all knew about Stella, obviously, but no one would have thought that this child would think of him as her father. A lot of people didn’t like thinking about Harry being a father.

“What are you doing out here baby?” He said into her ear, making sure he could hear her over the loud noise of the audience. Most of them loved getting glimpses into his life, so the crowd was excited to see Stella out on stage and many thought it was adorable that she already thought of him as her dad.

“Missed you.” She said into his neck. The microphone had somehow picked up their little exchange and the whole crowd sighed a collective “awe” when she said that. She was perched on his hip with her little arms wrapped around his neck, her favorite place if she had to choose one. She was pretty small for a 4-year-old, most people usually thought she was younger.

Harry chuckled and saw Y/n standing there with a smile on her face. Mitch was giggling at the exchange and kept glancing back at Sarah with a knowing look of “That’s going to be us soon,” written on his face.

“I missed you too lovebug, but I’m in the middle of a show! I gotta send you back to mumma.” He said. Stella didn’t like that though, because as soon as the words left his lips she was clinging to him like he was her life force and the tears began streaming down her face. She didn’t like having to share her daddy. She just wanted to be held by him right now, and she’d be damned if she got anything but her way.

This amused everyone, the child's insistence to be in her father's arms, so he sighed and bent to her will because how could he say no to his baby girl?

So he walked over to her mom and got her headphones, slipping them on her, and walked back to his microphone with her on his hip, ready to start the next song.

“Harry and Stella” was trending on twitter the very next morning. No one could get enough of the father-daughter duo.

---

Y/n hadn’t been this nervous since she was about to give birth to Stella. She stood with her baby in her arms as Harry opened the door to his childhood home, announcing to his mom and sister that they were there. She had to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans more than once.

Anne rushed out from wherever she had been, greeting the three of them. Stella had met Anne via FaceTime many times so it was not news to her (or Gemma) that Harry had stepped into the role of Stella’s father. She will admit she was surprised at first but then she was reminded that Harry had been in their lives for almost a year before Stella had asked the question. It wasn’t something that was rushed into.

Anne was very excited to be meeting her grandbaby and was very excited to meet the girl that had made her a grandmother.

Stella got shy, not being used to seeing “Nana” in person. Gemma had emerged from her spot in the kitchen as well, greeting everyone.

“Hello, my loves! How was the trip?” Anne said, kissing both of them on the cheek, her hand gently caressing the child's cheek in an attempt to get her out of her shell. Once she realized that this was her Nana that was standing before her, Stella reached out for Anne, silently asking to be held by her. Anne jumped at the chance, sweeping the baby into her arms and giving her a big hug, kissing her on the forehead multiple times, not being able to quell her affection for her first grandchild.

“It was good mum, Stell slept the whole way and traffic was pretty light,” Harry said, slipping his hand into his girlfriend’s, brushing his thumb back and forth trying to help calm her anxieties. For whatever reason, Y/n was worried that Gemma and Anne wouldn’t like her because she had come into their son/brother's life with a child, but it was clear that the two ladies loved the idea of Harry being Stella’s father.

“Oh, that's lovely!” She smiled, cuddling Stella impossibly closer to her. Y/n felt most of her worries melt away seeing the woman with her baby.

She felt silly for thinking Anne would be anything but happy.

---

Anne would not put Stella down for anything. The two were attached at the hip every waking second. Y/n was actually starting to miss her baby, but she appreciated getting to spend time with Harry without having to keep an eye on their little one. Gemma was absolutely smitten with Stella as well. She was very excited to be “Auntie Gem” as Stella had quickly adapted to calling her. Stella was very happy as well. She had never been around so much family in her whole life. She’d been so used to just her and her mom, and then just them and Harry, but now she had two whole grandma’s all to herself and an auntie she gets to call her own, something she never knew she was missing, that Y/n never thought her baby would get to have.

Harry was so happy to see his baby with Anne and Gemma. They had been bumped to spot number 3 and 4 on his favorite girl list, with Stella and Y/n taking spots 1 and 2. They didn’t mind one bit.

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Stella jumped up onto his lap as he and Y/n sat on the couch, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Y/n smiled at the girl, tightening her grip around Harry’s shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Of course we can lovebug! Go get Nana and auntie Gem and we’ll all pick one out together!” He replied, petting her wild baby hairs out of her eyes just like he always did.

“Auntie Gemma said to ask you if we could watch…” She paused for a second, her little finger tapping on her chin like she couldn’t remember what she was gonna say. Suddenly, she was up and running back to the hallway she had just come from. Y/n and Harry heard little whispers before she came running back out and plopped back onto Harry’s lap, on ‘oof’ erupting from him.

“This Is Us!” She finally said. Harry’s face dropped as he looked behind them to see Gemma standing there, trying to hold back her laughter. Y/n just started cackling and Stella was giggling even though she had no idea what was going on.

“Daddy’s in that movie baby,” Y/n finally calmed down enough to say to her daughter. The little one’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped underneath her chin. This was what she did when she wanted her daddy to say yes to her because she knew he couldn’t resist how adorable she was.

“Please please please!!!!!!” She whined, leaning in to place her forehead against Harry’s. She knew exactly how to get him. He caved every single time.

“Yeah, fine. We can watch it!” He finally said and all three girls cheered. Anne came in at the noise wondering what was going on.

“What’s all this?” She asked and Stella ran up to her, pulling on her

“We watching Daddy’s movie Nana!” She said, jumping up and down with a glowing beam on her face.

“Oh, are we now? Which one?” Anne asked and Stella paused.

“Daddy, how many movies awe you in?” She came back and crawled into his lap. She still had trouble saying her r’s. Her and Harry were working on it.

“Two, lovebug. But one of them you can’t watch until you’re older. It’s too scary f’you.” He said, cuddling his baby into his chest. She put on a little pout hearing that. She didn’t like when her daddy told her no, but this was something he wasn’t gonna budge on.

“Ok,” She sighed. All the adults thought this was adorable.

So they all settled in and watched the movie. Harry had a permanent blush on his face and Stella would jump up and down every time he was on the screen.

“Nana look!! That’s you!!” Anne laughed and nodded to her granddaughter.

“Yes, it is baby!”

“Mommy, why aren’t you in this movie?” She asked and everyone giggled.

“Me and Daddy didn’t know each other very well back then, baby.” Y/n laughed. Stella didn’t really understand but she didn’t say anything else.

The last few days had worn her out and that became very obvious when Harry looked down and saw his baby asleep on his chest, her first finger stuck in her mouth just like it always was when she fell asleep.

“Love, I’m gonna go lay her down, and then I’ll be right back,” Harry whispered, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms and slowly standing up. Y/n nodded, kissing his cheek before he left.

“He’s so good with her!” Gemma cooed, her face lighting up seeing her brother with his kid. A sight she was still kind of getting used to seeing.

“He really is…” Y/n smiled, “It was pretty instant too. Anytime he’d come over and she was still awake, he’d insist on putting her to bed, reading to her, singing to her, he’d bring her toys. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since he first laid eyes on her.”

“That’s so precious,” Anne spoke up, coming to sit next to her, wrapping Y/n in her warm embrace.

“I can’t wait until you two get married!” Y/n laughed at Gemma’s confession, snuggling into Anne.

“All he has to do is ask, I’m ready to say yes!” What none of the girls knew was that Harry was standing right outside the living room, hearing everything that was being said. His mind raced back to his suitcase where a velvet box sat tucked away between all of his clothes.

He was hesitant to bring the idea up because it had only been a year, but the saying when you know, you know he thought.

He came back into the living room, acting none the wiser, sitting on the other side of the girl he was going to marry (she just didn’t know it yet), and cuddled into her just as she had cuddled into his mom.

“Daddy,” A small voice broke through the now quiet hum of the tv.

“Lovebug, what are you doing back up?” He asked, lifting the sleepy little thing into his lap.

“Scawwy dweam, daddy.” She said and he pouted, pulling her closer into his chest and snuggling her back to sleep.

Harry was exactly where he belonged in life. With his baby girl in his arms, and his Love by his side.

[iamjungkooked]

Until My Last Breath

↳Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Genre: Smut (mild), Romance, Angst

↳Word count: 13.4k

↳Warnings: swearing, mild oral sex (f receiving), way too much making out, grinding (sort of?), mention of death. More than all of this Jeongguk is just fucking delicious in this fic (that’s the biggest warning i can give you)

↳Rating: 18+ (Don’t read if you are underage)

↳AU: werewolf! Jungkook + human OC

↳Summary: Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect.

(Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

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Your hands hurt from holding the grocery bags. Mrs. Jeon did offer her help but you refused because she has so much to do. If anything Jimin should have accompanied you considering that he’s always going on about how he’d marry you if he could.

Alas, he wasn’t there either because being the beta of the pack meant he had to run morning training and education with the younger children since Jungkook wasn’t there. Generally this was something the alpha of the pack would do-- but Mr. Jeon was busy with the politics of the werewolf and human world. Had Jungkook been here he would have been running the session seeing as he is next in line to be alpha of the pack. But he was miles away on the other side of the country. He has been for five years and truth be told you can’t even remember what his face looks like anymore.

With thoughts such as that the only accompaniment, you march along with as much energy you can muster at each step. The house comes into view. Once again with no other company but your own to entertain yourself you take a drip down memory lane. You remember the awe you first felt when Mr. Jeon brought you to the house. Your father had just passed away while on a drug raid. Mr. Jeon being his best friend brought you with him.

In the early days, the entire family tried to hide their secret. But then on a full moon, you curiously followed Jungkook out and watched as he transformed from man into a beast. Initially, you wanted to scream with horror, but the air got stuck in your throat when he began approaching you. Rooted to the spot and with no escape, Jungkook-- rather his wolf form nuzzled his nose against your neck and whimpered. The fear was gone just like that. All night long, you accompanied him, roaming the forest behind the house getting into all sorts of trouble. When the effect of the full moon began to fade during the early hours of the morning you remember sneaking back into the house and rummaging through his room to get him clothes for when he transformed back.

You kick the giant black gate open and walk down the cemented pathway flanked on either side by lawns outlined with a variety of flowers. To your left was the gazebo that Mr. Jeon built when you were sixteen as a birthday present because that happened to be your obsession at the time.

As the foyer nears, you see a huge commotion outside. It seemed everyone and their mother was present. With urgency in your steps only worsened by curiosity, you reach in no time. You stand on your tiptoes to get a view of what was happening, however, the five grocery bags in your hands weigh you down.

Momentarily the crowd parts. You see the outline of a face that isn’t recognizable-- the hoodie covering half the profile.

“What is going on?” you gather the courage to speak loudly against the chatter of the crowd.

It is loud enough to get the talking to stop and everyone turns to you, including the mysterious stranger.

He pulls his hoodie down.

The grocery bags drop from your hands, just as your mouth hangs open.

“Jungkook is back!” one of the kids tugs at your arm in excitement.

Well shit. You never could have recognized him even if someone planted his younger version of right next to him. He is probably just shy of 6 feet tall. Although engulfed in a black crewneck, you could tell he was built. His dark wash ripped blue jeans contour his thighs to perfection and just when you think he couldn’t have changed further you notice his hair. He had gone off and gotten himself an undercut. His hair was on the longer side, and it was parted to the left of his head while the undercut was visible on the right. He had even gone so far as to get tattoos that adorned his fingers, and his forearm-- a music note. Well now you were fucked because how could you ever resist a man with that kind of hairstyle and tattoos.

Correction, how could you resist a fucking werewolf who wears an undercut and has tattoos?

“Y/n?” he speaks and you swear you could have heard angels speaking to you.

You keep mum. In fact, you can’t even hear him. You’re too busy undressing him with your eyes. Your heart pounds, your knees feel weak because this man is simply too gorgeous to exist. How the hell is everyone else standing on their two feet while you feel like you’re going to fall any moment?

You say something. You have no idea what exactly because your ears are ringing, but you know something comes out of your mouth which causes everyone around you to giggle. You might as well just turn around and go hide somewhere because you’ve probably made a fool of yourself.

“Huh” comes his deep voice, but it’s faint. His remark only makes you wonder what you spat out.

“It’s hot” you fan yourself with your hand. Your mouth is parched, dry like the desert. “You--  Wow. You look--nice to--- welcome. I mean, g-good— to” you look at him, and pause to collect your thoughts. “Good to have you back. I think...” you are completely breathless and dazed by the end of that word salad. Your forehead scrunches in a frown as you try to shake away the magic spell his presence has cast on you. You don’t even bother to wait for a response as you run back down the pathway you came. You follow it out of the gate and turn the corner. A few paces up the hill you come upon the gated entrance to the forest.

You hear someone calling you out, but you’re a damn mess. You aren’t willing to let anyone see you like that. You run as far into the forest as your legs will carry you-- far, far, away from him.

You can finally understand the phrase “avoid like the plague” because that’s what you have been doing to Jungkook. For the past four days since he has been back, you have done anything and everything you can to avoid him. If you see him in the house, you immediately make a u-turn for your room. If you see him outside, you hide behind anything you can find-- a pillar, a bush, a tree, a car, another fucking human being.

Of course it doesn’t help that everyone tries to keep pushing you to him. Well, mostly his parents. But also random people like the ladies in Mrs. Jeon’s book club who on Saturday made a spectacle out of you.

“Come on, pose for a photo” they had said when they saw you and Jungkook out and about the house. You weren’t even looking at one another when they swarmed you and him, taking you by the arm and making you stand next to one another. They didn’t even ask nicely-- no. They demanded that you and Jungkook take a photo because apparently you two look amazing together. Despite your protests, and vigorous head shaking-- they basically pushed you to him, and thankfully he managed to steady you on your feet by catching your waist.

His arm around your waist as he holds you flush against him and your hand on his forearm while you two looked at one another-- that’s the picture they took. You may as well have just gotten a whole fucking photoshoot done while you were at it.

“Y/n’s probably always had a crush on him” one of the ladies, Mrs. Ri had mentioned while all the others including Mrs Jeon crowded around to look at the picture on the camera.

A tomato couldn’t be more red than you and that's saying something. All Jungkook did in response was shrug at you like he was enjoying it. Normally a man might object to being treated this way. But he didn’t utter a single word. Only he looked quite amused by the whole situation and your reaction as he smiled and chuckled to himself.

On the other hand, his parents always mentioned in his absence that they would love if you and him got together. You never paid any mind to those conversations in particular because it was Jungkook— atleast how you remembered him before he became a fucking Adonis. Not that it’s the only thing that matters. But you just never felt this way before, and now you do.

You tiptoe through the house while everyone is busy at this time of day. Mrs.Jeon is probably with all the other ladies for their book club, Mr.Jeon no doubt is in his study and Jimin is probably with Jungkook, training.

It sucks to be the only human sometimes because they can always hear you, and know what you’re thinking. But you can’t do the same. It makes you feel vulnerable. But everyone is good at reminding you about how lucky you are to be human.

You traipse through the living room, peeking behind from walls here and there to make sure Jungkook isn’t around because if you see him you’re sure you’ll lose your shit. Again.

There is a certain chunk of the wooden floor that creaks under pressure so you take care to avoid it. Because in case Jungkook is anywhere inside the house he’ll hear it.

Creak

“Fuck” you mutter, shutting your eyes tight and carefully lifting your toes from the damned spot which makes another sound.

You hear footsteps on the stairs behind you. Too scared to move, you straighten up.

“I was wondering when I’ll see you again” comes Jungkook’s voice.

“Heeeyyy” you turn around, plastering a smile on your face and it screams fake.

“Four days huh. Good job” Jungkook looks impressed as he comes down to ahalt at the last step . “How did you manage to avoid me for four whole days? I am curious”

“You knew”

“Of course I knew” he’s mouth moves as he chews gum, one brow raised at you, looking absolutely devilish (in the best way possible). “Too bad the streak has come to end” he places his hands in pockets lining his black sweats.

Well fuck. No point in denying it anymore then.

“If it wasn’t for this stupid floor I could have gone the whole week. Probably” you decide to give in instead of pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about.

He steps towards you, one corner of his mouth curved up in a sly smirk. “That would never happen. You’d have made a mistake at some point before that”

“Maybe” you shrug. You’re so surprised that you’re able to find your words this time. “Welcome back by the way” you offer a genuine smile, trying to make up for that botched attempt when he first arrived.

“Thanks. It’s good to be back” he sighs contentedly. “I missed this place and the people.” he looks around and then his gaze comes to rest on you. “Well, one person in particular” he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Your mom” you reply. He loves his mother.

“Yes. But also someone else”

“Who?” curiosity gets the best of you.

“Just someone” he shrugs.

You’re about to respond when Jimin comes in. “What are you two doing here?” he looks at Jungkook as he stops next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wordlessly, Jungkook’s eyes change color from his hazel brown to icy blue. He steps towards you and Jimin, and then pulls Jimin’s hand away from your shoulder. He looks at the boy, jaw grinding as he chews gum. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” his voice is calm, but his eyes are absolutely terrifying since they harbour a cold, mean look. They change back to brown in an instant once Jimin nods. You notice how tense Jimin looks but he walks with Jungkook anyway.  

They’re probably only gone for thirty seconds. But when they come back their body language is completely relaxed. They look like two pals reunited after years.

“Everything okay?” you ask Jimin.

“Yeah. All good” he nods. “I was just congratulating him”

“What for?” you look between the two of them, feeling awfully suspicious.

Jimin is about to open his mouth when he catches Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook shakes his head and you notice, at which point you turn to him. “Fine. I don’t want to know” you huff. You start towards the back door which leads to the backyard where Mrs. Jeon is with her friends.

Just a couple steps in, you’re tugged back. You turn around to find Jungkook holding onto your wrist. There is something about the way he looks at you. You’ve seen this look before in movies—it’s the way the hero looks at the heroine when he thinks she isn’t looking. It’s soft, but it’s wanting-- a complete contrast from the way he glared the life out of Jimin just minutes ago. He looks like he’s got something to say, but he’s holding back.

“What is it?” your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared to speak out. As if your voice will give away the crazy whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

“Nothing” he blinks and lets go of your wrist. “See ya around” he turns on his heels and walks the other way as Jimin follows him.

The woods at this time of the night are majestic. Moonlight bathes the tops of trees in a silver glow. The moonlight filters through gaps in tree branches, and covers the ground in a white sheen. It looks nothing short of magical.There is a slight chill in the wind, but it’s nothing you aren’t used to. The fallen leaves crunch under your feet. Sounds of crickets chirping, owls hooting fills the air.

You walk through the pathway bordered on each side by large trees the branches of which meet in the middle above you, forming an archway. You feel safe in the womb of nature like you’re protected and nothing could touch you. Without fear, it’s easier for you to take in everything. The air you breathe feels fresh, and crisp. If you could, you would make time stop so you could stay in the woods at night and never have to leave.

As each step carries you further into the woods, you feel more and more at peace. The trees become more lush the further you go. The animals are more noticeable deep into the forest. You see squirrels running around the trees, there are bird nests high up in the branches. You can hear mockingjays in these parts of the forest too.

You stop by the clearing in the woods. This side of the woods is your favorite. You sit against the trunk of one of the trees, resting your head. You look at nothing in particular in the sky. It’s clear above you, with a full moon shining. Your mind immediately goes back to Jungkook as you gaze upon it. You feel tortured every time your thoughts turn to him. You don’t know if it’s normal for you to want to cry, but you’re already shedding tears. Your quiet sobs accompany the sounds of nature. The weight seems to be lifting off your shoulders, and it feels easier to breathe. But then you think of him and that someone he mentioned. It causes you to sob even harder. You hiccup, using the back of your hands to wipe away the tears.

“What’s wrong?”

You can’t forget that voice. You look up at Jungkook as he stands with his hands in his jean pockets.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I just-- I miss--” you begin to cry again. “I-I miss my dad” another sob escapes your throat.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks in a soft voice, which makes you want to cry even harder. “Please”

You nod.

He comes over, sits down next to you and gathers you in his arms. He pulls you into himself, wrapping your arm around his side, as he holds you. You place your cheek against his chest as you hold him close. It may have started because of him, but it continues because you do miss your dad. The moment you said “dad” was when you knew you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

“I am sorry y/n” he strokes the back of your head. “I really am” he sniffles.

You pull back to find tears staining his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” you look up at him.

His gaze is locked onto yours. “Because, I can feel what you feel”

“Sorry. I forgot you’re a werewolf” you shift back on your spot, forcing his arm to fall from your shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. He looks at you a few seconds longer. “Yeah. That’s it” he says, blinking and a lone tear escapes. Your fingers twitch at your side, needing to wipe it away. But it might be too weird so you let your fingers curl into a fist.

“Thank you for doing this” your mouth curves in a soft smile. “How did you find me here?”

“I’ve seen you in the woods for the past four nights. I didn’t know who it was at first because I only saw a flash of your hair, or your shoes. But today I followed you and it’s good I did because pretty girls like you shouldn’t be crying alone”

You snort. “Right. Pretty girls like me”

He raises a brow. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you. I just don’t believe your words”

“Then tell me what I can do to make you believe me” he states. You’re sure he isn’t serious but one look at him tells you he means every single word.

“Jungkook, it’s alright. You don’t have to do anything” you shake your head. But then it strikes you. “Although there is something…”

“Anything” the corners of his mouth upturned in a soft smile-- one that made your heart skip a beat (or ten maybe).

“I want to see your wolf form” you look at him tentatively, wondering if he’ll turn you down, or maybe even shout at you for making a request. Asking a werewolf to show their wolf is a sacred request and not something that should be asked lightly. You know how important their wolf form is to them. It’s like talking about sex among humans, but much more of a touchy subject.

“That’s it?” his eyebrows are furrowed together at the miniscule nature of your request.

“So you’ll show me? Can you do it on your own will?” your hands clasp in front of your chest in anticipation.

A laugh bellows from his chest. “Of course. I’ll show you” he stands up, dusts his hands, and the back of his jeans. “You may want to close your eyes because I need my clothes for later”

Without needing to be told in exact terms, you close your eyes and cover them with your hands for good measure. You can hear sounds of feet shuffling, a belt unbuckling and soft thuds—probably his clothes dropping ctx dagainst the soil.

“I’ll count to five and then open. One, Two, Three, Four, Five”

You give it a few more seconds just in case before you’re uncovering your eyes. Standing in front of you is a majestic white wolf, with icy blue eyes-- Jungkook’s eyes. Your mouth falls open, your mind unable to come up with words. You cautiously step towards him, hand reaching out wanting to touch him. He meets you halfway, nuzzling his nose against your hand. You laugh.

“You’re beautiful Jungkook” you whisper as you stroke the fur, which is softer than velvet against your hand.

The wolf whimpers in response.

“What can you do as a wolf? Any tricks?” you ask, forgetting that he’s not a dog.

He growls, baring his teeth.

You throw your hands up. “Geez. Sorry. I was just curious” you reach for his muzzle as you continue stroking gently to help him calm down.

He steps back, turns around and starts further into the forest.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

He whimpers and motions beyond the clearing with his head. You start to follow, when you remember his clothes and grab them. He’s already a few paces ahead of you. It seems that even his wolf isn’t patient.

“Slow down will you?” you yell as you run to try and catch up. He doesn’t listen though as he continues on.

You’re breathless by the time you reach a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers and fallen timber. Flowing right next to the meadow is a stream littered with little stones and large rocks alike. Moonlight shines through the cracks between tree branches above you. The air is cooler than you have ever experienced in this part of the woods. The grass is lush and soft beneath your feet unlike the rest of the forest which is mostly soil. You don’t know how you never came upon this place on your walks. But then again Jungkook probably knows the forest best.

He is stopped at the edge of the stream. You drop the pile of his clothes on a log, and walk towards the stream. You crouch and place your hand in the running stream. The icy cold water sends shivers down your body. You flick some of the water on him, at which point he growls at you again.

“This is fun” you chuckle as you get up.

He whimpers as he tackles you to the ground, and nuzzles his nose in your neck.

“It tickles, it tickles, it tickles” you laugh as you try to push him away. You doubt you could have pushed him away in his human form but as a wolf it’s impossible. You rub your hand against his fur. He mewls and falls on his back next to you and you rub his underbelly. He loves it as he continues to make these cute noises and all you want to do is hug him.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Jungkook jumps up to his feet, growling, teeth showing as he paces in front of you looking in the direction of the sound. He continues to snarl and growl, pacing increasing in speed. He looks ready to kill. You abandon your perch on the grass in favor of standing up. You tread towards him. At this point you’re more scared of what he’s doing rather than where the sound came from. You reach him, stopping by his side. You look at him— at those blue eyes of his, and take a step forward but he’s quick to nudge you back with his head.

“It’s alright” you reassure him as you caress the top of his head.

You try once more to step beyond where he’s standing but he gives another push and you tumble back slightly. He snarls at you as he looks back at you over his shoulder, warning you to stay in your place. He turns back to inspect the woods, pacing from side to side.

“Alright. Fine” you give up. “But please don’t do anything. It could just an animal like a squirrel or something”

Ears perked up, he stands towering in front of you.

“I don’t think it was anything” you stay in your spot, as you place your hand on his flank.

He holds up his nose, moving his head in every direction like he’s trying to smell something out. He starts stepping back, his rump hitting you as he does. He turns around, leaning his muzzle against your shoulder, like he’s trying to comfort you and find comfort in you.

“It’s okay” you whisper, skimming his fur. “We’re fine” you wrap your arm around his neck.

He lets out a small cry as he snuggles into you.

“I brought your clothes by the way” you let go of him and he steps back. “I think it’s best if we go home. It’s already 1”

He steps back a few paces and disappears behind a tree while you turn around and wait for him.

“Give me a sign whenever you’re done” you call out. You wait and wait for what seems like ten minutes but is really only a minute or two.

He clears his throat. “I am good.” he says.

You turn around to face him. You really missed seeing his face-- in the human form. He was majestic in his wolf form, but there is something about the human side of him that you can’t get over. In all honesty, he’s a sight to behold.  

“So, what did you think?” he rubs his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re amazing” you meet him halfway. “I’ve seen almost everyone’s wolf form. But yours is breathtaking”

He chuckles. “Thank you. I am sure he’s happy to hear it too” he closes the distance. He reaches for your hand, curling his fingers around your palm. It’s the warmest feeling you have ever felt.

You open your mouth to protest but he’s already cutting you off.

“I am not letting go, until we’re out of these woods.” he tugs on your hand as he turns around and begins towards the house.

“Thank you. It is sweet of you to protect me”

“It’s my job to protect you. I will always be there when you need me” he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

It’s nice to know that you have someone in your corner. “I wish I could say the same. But you don’t need me to protect you”

He nods. “You’re right. But if I ever need a hug, I know who to come to”

Little does he know that you are ready to give him the whole wide world. “Anytime”

Your eyes lock for a few seconds and both of you burst into grins.

Walking in the forest by yourself is always peaceful. But walking in these woods hand in hand with Jungkook is euphoric.

A pang of dread fills your chest when Jungkook ignores you.

Just when you thought things were going good, he distanced himself. You don’t know what went wrong in the days following the night in the woods. But he was avoiding you. It wouldn’t have felt so bad were it not for the fact that the way he ignored you was cold. It wasn’t like you where it was more benign in nature and it was clear that you were avoiding him for fear of embarrassing yourself. He knew that too. But with him it’s something else

He wouldn’t even look at you. A frown seemed to have permanently settled on his face. He was never present anymore. He was always lost in thought with an inscrutable look in his eyes. If you showed up where he was, he’d leave wordlessly. If you tried to talk to him he’d act like he couldn’t even hear you and that would be followed by his departure. And when he did look at you-- the only way to interpret the expression in his eyes was: resentment. You had no idea why he was doing that.

So as the whole family, including Jimin was sitting in the backyard under the canopy for breakfast, Jungkook made to leave just as you were approaching to join them. But his mother made him sit back down.

“Jungkook, you’re not going to leave” her tone is stern.

He rolls his eyes with a huff as he sits back down.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” Jimin leans in, thinking he’s whispering but his voice is a tad bit louder than that.

Even you can hear him just as you are a few steps away.

“Nothing” his voice is devoid of emotion. He leans back in his chair, sliding down against the back like he just wants to disappear. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Hi everyone” you offer a tight lipped smile. Everyone except for Jungkook replies. “Hi Jungkook” you say after not being met with a response.

He stays silent, holding the same sulked posture as before, not even acknowledging your presence.

You catch Jimin’s eyes. He gestures with his head to Jungkook as if to ask ‘what’s up’. You shrug because you have no clue what has gotten into him. You take the empty chair next to Jungkook and you can see him shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Your heart sinks in your chest, but you dismiss it. You look over at Jimin sitting on the opposite side of the table. He looks between you and Jungkook and you just know he’s thinking something. You both look at each other-- a silent conversation ensuing.

“Oh no. I forgot the cutlery” Mrs. Jeon jumps suddenly. She gets up when you interrupt.

“It’s okay. I can grab it” you gesture for her to sit down. “Do you want that special set?” you smile at her.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this. I think it’s time we use it. This is a special occasion. The box is in the attic. Will you be okay?”

“It’s okay. I got it”  you put her concern to rest with a grin.

You glance at Jungkook who still hasn’t moved an inch as he is still playing with his fingers and ignoring everyone around him. You make way inside the house, and up the stairs to the second floor. The entrance to the attic is on the second floor. You turn right on the landing, moving towards your room and at the end of the hallway. You pull the rope which unfolds the ladder. It comes down, you climb it and reach the musty room.

It’s full of boxes. You rummage through them to find the one labeled cutlery. The box is quite heavy, but you manage to climb down with it safely. You push the ladder back up, and the door closes blending in with the rest of the ceiling. You carry the box down the first two flights of stairs, slightly shaking because of how heavy it is.

You lose your footing at the beginning of the third set of stairs and down you go five stairs. The box slips from your hand. A scream rips through the air. You manage not to hit your head. But your ankle twists during the fall. You’re laying on your side attempting to get up when everyone rushes into the room.

Jungkook is the first one to arrive. “Are you okay?” he helps you sit up and you wince.

It hurts so damn much, you can’t stop yourself from crying. “I- I am” you grimace. “I am fine” you croak through a strained voice, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“No. You’re not” he cups your cheeks to make you look at him. He inspects your head for injuries. “You’re not fucking fine” he’s pissed as he’s practically at the verge of yelling. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he slides an arm under your back, and the other under your knee as he picks you up off the floor. You lock your hands behind his neck, keeping your gaze cast down. You don’t want to look at him in this condition.“I am taking her to her room” he announces, and no one even gets a word in because he’s already started up the flight of stairs.

You try to contain your cries, but the pain is too sharp especially at your ankle. You can sense him looking down at you.

“What were you trying to do?” he shakes his head. You should have called for help, you idiot”

“Sorry” you snivel still not meeting his eyes. “I was just trying to bring the box down and I lost my footing”

You reach the room, and he kicks the ajar door fully open. Once you’re in, he kicks it close. He gently lays you down on the bed, adjusting the pillow underneath your head.

You wince in pain, wiping away the tears. For the first time you look at him and he’s pacing, like he was in the woods except he’s in his human form. “Where does it hurt?” he sounds concerned but it’s that angry kind of way. There is no softness in his tone, if anything its gruff.

“You don’t have to worry. I am okay”

“Bullshit” he stops and sits at the edge of the bed, as he takes off your shoe and sock to look at your ankle. He touches the ankle bone, and you inhale a sharp breath. “See” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “That looks like it’s sprained. You could have asked--”

“You for help?” you complete his sentence, full well knowing that’s what he intended.

His eyes flicker to you, but he doesn’t say anything. He begins to gently feel around your ankle for any other injuries, brows furrowing in concentration.

You watch him, as he continues to look for other wounds,or gashes-- scanning your legs, arms, and face. You can’t understand the sudden shift in his behaviour. “What are you doing?”

He stops to look at you. “What do you mean? I am checking for any other injuries” he says in a blunt tone and resumes inspection.

“That’s not what I mean” you push his hands away from your forearms just as he’s looking over for more bruises. “Why do you suddenly give a shit? What do you care if I live or die”

He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again and shuts it, grinding his jaw. “I’ll grab ice” he ignores your question and gets up from the bed.

You tug him back by the hem of his sleeve. “I need an answer”

“I don’t have one” he yanks his arm, and the cloth slips from your fingers.

“This is what I am talking about” you bite the inside of your cheek just as he’s approaching the door “One minute you act like you give a crap about me, and the next you act like you wouldn’t blink an eye if I died”

He’s reaching for the doorknob when he turns around. His brown wide eyes stare back at you He scoffs. “I wouldn’t care if you died?” his disbelief reflects in his partly open mouth. Do you---” he covers his face with his hands, taking in deep breaths and letting his hands run through his locks before looking at you. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about” he turns around and reaches for the door when there is a knock.

He sighs in frustration. “Who the hell--” he opens the door.

Jimin stands on the other side of the door with an ice pack in his hand, and a bottle of what looks like medicine. Jimin peeks over Jungkook’s shoulder, about to say something. But Jungkook grabs the ice pack and medicine wordlessly and shuts the door in his face.

He walks back and presses the ice pack to your ankle, while holding the tiny bottle out for you.

“I don’t want it” you say sharply, looking to the side.

You hear him huff. “Do I look like I give a shit right now?” he seethes through clenched teeth.

You turn to him. “You know this whole tough guy act doesn’t scare me”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. If this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears. “Just take it”

You study him, your gazes locked on each other. Neither of you even blink. His nostrils are still flaring and you’re still breathing heavily through pursed lips. “I hate you” you snatch the bottle from him and chug the bitter liquid down.

His expression changes for a moment-- the look in his eyes softens. He blinks, casting his gaze down momentarily. But then he’s back to carrying a frown on his face as he looks up at you. “You should. You shouldn’t like me at all” his tone gentler than before, hiding beneath it an infinity of disappointment that you catch.

“Well now I don’t. You damn well made sure of that” you grab the pillow next to you and hide your face behind it.

Seconds later you hear the door slam and that’s when you scream into the pillow.

Your ankle gets better in the next couple of weeks, but your relationship with Jungkook doesn’t. You’re still distant from each other. Still angry at each other. Your silent fight has tensed the atmosphere in the whole house. It’s awkward to say the least. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon skirt around you both, walking on eggshells whenever you are in a room together. Dinners are silent for the most part except for when his parents make conversation about their day.

You both ignore each other. Neither of you even looks in the direction of the other person. If you happen to pass each other in the house, you avoid each other.

Perhaps everyone has had enough-- especially Mrs. Jeon since she broaches the subject at dinner one night.

“Alright” she holds her fingers in a steeple. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

You and Jungkook glance at each other wary of how she’s speaking because she never swears-- not even use the word ‘hell’.

You both say at the same time. “Nothing”

“Bullshit” she slams her hands on the table.

“Honey” Mr. Jeon looks at her.

She dismisses it. “ No. We’re going to address this”

“Mom” Jungkook looks at her warningly. “Don’t”

“What happened?” she looks at you. “He won’t tell me” she glances at her son from the periphery of her vision. “But I know you will”

“Nothing. I promise” you offer a half hearted smile.

“I wasn’t expecting this from you y/n” she sounds disappointed.

“Mrs. Jeon. I swear to you it’s nothing. Even if there is something we can sort it out amongst ourselves”

“Well that’s just the problem isn’t it. You’re not. You don’t even look at each other”

You avert your gaze sideways.

“Just drop it will you?” Jungkook sounds frustrated. “We’re good” he doesn’t even look sincere in the least bit.

You nod finding purchase in your lap, barely making eye contact with anyone.

“Whatever it is, apologize” she demands. She looks to Jungkook, raising her brows at him expectantly. She waits for him to say something. He avoids looking at her but she is persistent. It’s only for a few seconds but he crumbles under the pressure and mumbles a “sorry”

“Look at her and say it” Mrs. Jeon says curtly.

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours for the first time in weeks.

Something changes in you and once again you feel like crying just because he’s there.

“Sorry” he looks away, folding his arms across his chest and chewing on his lip.

“Well you can tell him Mrs. Jeon that if he isn’t going to mean it, I don’t accept it” you glance at her and then back at your lap, leaning against the chair. 

“You can tell her that this is all she’s getting from me” he looks at his mother too.

“Tell him that he’s the one who started it. So, if he can’t even own up to it there really is no point in talking about it” your cheeks feel warm as you keep your gaze fixed firmly on your lap.

“While you’re at it mom, you can tell her that she shouldn’t be talking about things when she doesn’t know what’s going on” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Your nostrils flare and so do his. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks red and eyes wide. “Maybe Mrs. Jeon you can remind him that he never actually told me what his problem is” you glare at him.

She looks between the two of you and your both lower your gaze.

Jungkook scoffs, returning an equally contemptuous glare towards you. “I don’t have a problem. It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand I don’t actually want to talk to her”

“Great! you throw your hands in the air and look at his parents. “You can tell him he’s the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire life and I regret ever feeling anything for him” you slam your hands on the table and storm off.

The breeze is cool as it caresses your face. You sniffle away the tears as they well up in your eyes. The woods seem to be the only thing that can comfort you. You walk down your usual pathway, hugging yourself against the chill. As you look around at the moon bathed trees, they look different to you. But they don’t seem as beautiful to you as they did when you were with Jungkook.

The whole forest feels different.

You reach the clearing once more where he found you. You’re overcome with emotion, and your eyes tear up once again. You choke a sob away. You sit against the same tree, look at the same clear sky blanketed by stars. His voice echoes in your head when he asked if he could give you a hug.

You don’t know what happened to that boy. You don’t know where he went and if he will ever come back. You thought he was a friend. But it turns out he wasn’t. He’s just a stranger that you used to know.

You’re immersed in your thoughts. You look down at your hands, a bittersweet sigh passing your lips.

There is a rustle in the bushes near you and you’re immediately on alert. You slowly stand up trying not to make any sudden movements. You look in the direction of the sound and see two glowing brown eyes staring at you.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t straighten up fully, for the fear of aggravating whatever animal it is, so you stay in a partly bent position, hands visible by your side.

The animal steps out from behind the shadows.

It’s a wolf-- a black one. It’s not Jimin because his fur is brown. It sure as hell isn’t Jungkook.

The wolf growls at you. It steps towards you like a predator towards prey.

Full blown panic sets in. You’re frozen on the spot. Your heart beats hard and fast, as if the sound rings in your ears. Is this how you die? Alone in the woods? Your whole life flashes in your mind. Among all of that the only name and face that echoes in your head is Jungkook’s  because you would hate to die and not have a chance to talk to him. That would be the biggest regret of your life.

The wolf is still approaching you, and it’s halfway there. It growls and snarls-- saliva dripping from its mouth.

“Oh please no” you whisper, as your knees begin to buckle.

The wolf takes a leap towards you. But at the end second, you see a white one knocking the black one out mid air. They both fly some distance and fall on the ground.

“Jungkook!” you scream running in his direction.

Those blue eyes look back at you as he gets up on all fours.He keeps growling at the other wolf.. You know better than to interfere, so you stay behind him. Both of them snarl at each other. The other wolf howls, probably to try and intimidate Jungkook. But then he howls-- it’s loud and fierce so much so that you have to close your ears. He then makes a sound that is a mix between a roar and a growl as he steps towards the wolf.

“Jungkook no” you hold your hand out for him but he’s just beyond your reach. He looks back at you. You shake your head. He turns to the other wolf and makes a sound that sounds like a threatening bark.

There is a moment where they both just look at each other. Then the other one whimpers and leaves-- tail between its legs quite literally.  

Your knees give out and you fall on the ground, sobbing and hugging yourself. Your cries fill the air. You sob hard enough to make your whole body shake. You have never felt such fear in your life and not just for yourself. You were more worried for Jungkook.

He comes running to you, fully clothed somehow. He immediately holds you in his arms. He holds you close, chin resting on the top of your head, as you bury your face in his chest, body shaking in his arms. You can’t even breathe  properly-- gasping for air with short shallow breaths.“Jungkook” you whimper, holding onto his shirt.

“I am here” he squeezes tighter. “I am right here. You’re safe”

“I-I” you pull back to look up at him, eyes swollen and red, tears still falling down your face in droves. “I thought you were going to...” you bawl again just at the thought of something happening to him. You hide your face against his chest, wrapping your arms against him so tight, you’re sure he’s having a hard time breathing.

“I am okay. I am not even hurt” he reassures you.

“I was so…” you hiccup. “Worried that--that s-some-something w-would happen to you” you manage to choke out the words.

“Look at me” he holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I am completely okay. I was worried for you. I was scared. I was so so scared” he gazes into your eyes, and you know he’s speaking the truth because he’s beginning to cry too.

You sniffle, trying to control your sobs so you can tell him. “The only thing I could think of was you. I didn’t want to die without talking to you. I was afraid I would never get to talk to you”

“Me too” he croaks. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere did you?” there is panic in his eyes as he suddenly realizes that.

You shake your head. “No. You saved me”

“I told you I’d always protect you didn’t I?” he snivels.

Your lips just in a pout, lips quivering. “How did you know?” you slide your thumbs against his cheeks to wipe the tears.

“I came to the woods to cool off for a bit” he stops to rub the tears from your cheeks as the water works start again. “I was just so pissed, so naturally my wolf took over and I transformed. I was just roaming around, when I could smell you. I followed your scent. I saw the whole thing and trust me, my heart almost stopped. I was waiting for the right moment to intervene and when that wolf jumped at you, I lost it”

“I am sorry I said all those things” you clutch the material of his shirt tighter, looking down.

“No. I started this whole shit and if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I could have lost you tonight and it would have been my fault. I could never forgive myself” he takes your hands in his, curling his fingers in yours. “I am so so sorry”

“So we’re good?” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh with you. “Look, if this night has proved anything, it’s that you shouldn’t like me. I told you. Don’t like me. I am not right for you. I am not even good for you. Look at where I landed you tonight” his fingers begin to slip from yours.

“You’re wrong” you hold tight onto his hands.

“I can’t y/n” he avoids your eyes, his shoulders droop. He looks absolutely defeated.

“What’s the reason?” you press on. “Is it someone else?”

“No” he’s quick to shut down that train of thoughts in your head. “There’s no one else. But I can’t. You hold too much power over me. That’s exactly why I can’t”

“I don’t get it. You do all these things for me that no one ever has. Your actions say one thing and your words another. What am I supposed to do Jungkook?”

“Don’t like me. Stay far far away from me” he pulls his hands away from yours. “I’ll take you home”

“Jungkook-”

“I am taking you home” he says firmly, as he lifts you off the ground in his arms.

You hook your hands behind his neck. You let your head rest against the crook of his neck. You let him take you home because you’re too tired to fight. You don’t want to fight with him because you know that you love this man. If the night taught you anything, it was that.

“Y/n we’re going to be leaving” Mrs. Jeon hurriedly comes into the kitchen, opening up cabinets and grabbing food.

“Leaving?” your brows furrowed. “Where?”

“Jungkook’s dad and I have to go to the orphanage in the city for an event. We’ll be back by tonight. But Jungkook is home if you need anything” she packs up a bag full of food, probably for the journey since the drive to the city is 2 hours.

“Wait, you’re both leaving? Jungkook and I are going to be alone…?” your voice trails at the end, having been met with a dreadful realization.

Mrs. Jeon’s nose scrunches as she walks over to you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re too busy worrying so you don’t even hear her.

Mrs. Jeon calls out your name a couple of times before she physically has to shake you. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

You blink rapidly. “Oh nothing. Everything is fine. I just thought he would go with you too”

“We asked him, but he said you’d be alone at home so he’ll stay too”

“He said that?” your eyes widen. You don’t understand his concern.

She nods. “Mmhmm. He also said he will stay just in case you need something while everyone is gone. I would ask you to come too but I didn’t want you to feel bad”

You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’d cry the whole time anyway thinking of my parents” you chuckle. “But you know I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles. “I know that. But tell Jungkook that because this boy was adamant on not wanting to leave you alone. I don’t understand him” she shakes her head, like any mother aggrieved of her child would. You can’t blame her though. He is a unique specimen.

“Yeah me neither” you purse your lips in a smile.

“Alright. We’ll be off then” she gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “If he troubles you, call me right away”

“I will”

She makes haste of leaving, carrying the bag.

You spend a better part of the day hiding in your room, avoiding Jungkook. It’s the only place in the entire house where he won’t come. Not after everything that has happened between you. He’s honorable in that sense. Things have shifted between you once again. There’s no anger anymore. All of that has been replaced by awkwardness. Now if you see each other, you only nod at one another. Occasionally, you talk too. But it’s always surface level things. Nonetheless, it’s a step in the right direction.

At half past one though, your stomach starts to grumble and gradually all you can think about is food. It’s a relief in a way because it distracts you from him. You spend ten minutes trying to persuade your brain that you’re not actually hungry.

“I am not hungry” you chant it like a mantra hoping that at least for a while it will go away.

After agonizing and torturing yourself for half an hour, you give in.

“Fuck this” you grumble as your hunger gets the better of you. You drag yourself down to the kitchen. Unlike last time though you don’t tiptoe around the house.

You go into the kitchen, open the fridge to find two plates already filled with food. A note, no doubt from Mrs. Jeon is stuck into the cling film: don’t forget to eat.

You grab a plate for yourself, leaving the other one in the fridge for Jungkook. You’re about to shut the door, when you change your mind. This may serve as an excuse to talk to him. At the end of the day, you’re going to be living in the same house. So you figure you can’t go on avoiding him.

You grab the second plate, heat both of them in the microwave.

You head back upstairs, where the bedroom��s are. You turn left at the landing towards his room which is at the end of the hallway. You stop in front of the door, and seeing as your hands are full you settle for calling his name. “Jungkook, you in your room? I got food”

You wait, but there is no response.

“Jungkook” you call again.

No response. Finding yourself with no other choice left, you somehow manage to balance the plate on your forearm. With the free hand, you turn the handle.

You peek your head inside to find the room empty. Just as you’re about to leave your eyes catch something at his bedside table. You know you shouldn’t go inside, but you can’t help it. You leave one of the plate’s on his bedside table  because you can’t lug three things around. You grab it, meaning to ask him about it when you find him.

You close the door, and head back downstairs. You walk the whole of the first floor from the dining room, living room, kitchen, family room calling out his name. But he’s nowhere.

“Maybe he’s in the basement” you think to yourself as you head downstairs. You walk down the steps.

It’s dark save for the blue LED lights running along the ceiling. You walk in further turning the corner from where the pool table, and the arcade game machines are. You remember that before Jungkook left he had set up one half of the basement as his gaming room.

Sure enough as you near the room you hear sounds of gunshots, and rifles and some mild cursing which makes you chuckle.

You don’t bother knocking as you enter. The same blue LED lights adorn the room. You can see his black mop of hair against the couch.

“Are you hungry?” you say tentatively as you stop next to the couch.

He immediately stops playing, throwing his remote on the ground as he turns to you. He takes off his headphones. You notice his hair is tied up in a bun, which manages to make your heart skip a few beats.

“Oh hey” he says, straightening up. “You didn’t have to” he notices the plate in your hand.

“Your mom said you haven’t been eating” you hold the plate for him and he reaches for it.

“Thanks” he offers a pursed lip smile. He takes the plate and sets it aside on the side table. A few beats of silence pass. He taps his fingers against one another, something you notice he does when he’s nervous. His eyes stay fixed on his hands.

“Will you make me a promise?” you look at his profile.

He clears his throat. “Depends on what it is”

You roll your eyes, fully expecting that response. “Just say you will”

Your persistent gaze makes him shift uncomfortably in his spot. He sighs, looking ahead at nothing in particular, while thinking over your request. He turns to you. “Fine”

“Promise me if I ask you questions, you will answer. It can be anything”

“That doesn’t sound very fair” his lips quiver at the corners, a hint of smile making an appearance. “What if I don’t want to answer”

“Too bad” you narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t have a choice. So?” you raise your brows giving him an expectant look.

He considers your demand, looking back at his hands again. “Well looks like I don’t have a choice”

“Good. Because I am asking right now”

At this, he looks at you wide eyed.

“Now?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. Tell me why you won’t act on your feelings”

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t deny it. If you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t have lost your shit the day I hurt my ankle and you sure as shit wouldn’t have risked your life for me” you remind him. “And you wouldn’t have put this next to your bed” you bring forward the picture of you and him Mrs.Jeon’s friends had taken-- the one where you’re both looking at each other as he holds you by the waist.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. He rubs his hands on his face, resting his elbows on his knees as he keeps his face covered. He pulls his hands away , crossing them together. He looks at you, trying to determine how he should begin. “You’re right. I do have feelings for you. I’ve been here before y/n and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly.

“And what?” you prod, placing the photo frame next to you.

“She was beautiful. You should have seen her. She was amazing, just beyond I could express. Everyone here loved her. We used to spend every day together. Her parents hated me for it” he lets out a chuckle, a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“She-- she died”

Your mouth hangs open. “I am so so sorry. I had no idea. I am sorry. Just.. forget I asked. I don’t need to know” you feel guilty immediately.

“No. It’s alright. I’ve already started. There was a fire in the woods years ago and she died in that. Some humans were having a bonfire and they left the fire burning. It caught on and somehow she got stuck in the middle of it with no escape” he looks down at his hands yet again.

You shift closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders resting your head on against the crook of his neck. “I am really sorry”

“Thank you” he places a hand on your forearm, leaning his cheek on your head.

“If I had known, I never would have pressed you. I feel like an asshole” you mumble.

“You’re not an asshole” he replies.

“I get it now and I promise you I won’t ever ask you to consider your feelings for me again” you lift your head and place a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve up in a grin immediately and he is quick to place a kiss on your cheek too. “You’re amazing” his gaze locks with yours.

“I know” you grin. “Can I ask you something else too... ?” you say tentatively.

He nods. “Anything”

“Did you… did you imprint on her?” you ask, noting just how close you’re sitting to him. You can smell his breath, and feel it on your face as he beholds you in the most loving look in his eyes.

A coughing fit ensues for Jungkook, and you unwrap your arms from his shoulder, in favour of gently patting his back. “Sorry. Bad question hey?”

“No” he dismisses with his hand. “It’s just I’ve never been asked that”

“Forget I asked” you shake your head.

“No. I promised. Not her. Only my human side loved her. To imprint on someone all of me, including my wolf has to feel something. That’s the only way werewolves can imprint and it would be a far stronger bond than what I had with her” he sighs. “I have imprinted on someone. Not her” he finally answers your question.

“Oh my god” your heart sinks. “I- I have no idea what to say” you shift away from him, feeling like you’ve violated some rule. As if you have made him cheat on someone with you.

“Y/n” he says as soon as he sees your body language tensing. “It’s not what you’re thinking”

“No” you shake your head. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so fucking stupid” you get up abruptly and march off while he calls out for you.

As is customary every third Friday of the month, the children from the neighbourhood gather around the campfire. This time Jungkook is there so he’ll have to answer all their questions.

Everyone sits around in a circle, some on the logs and others on chairs. Jungkook and you sit on opposite sides of the fire, Your eyes are fixed on the embers burning away. He holds a stick as he’s poking at the coal to keep the fire going. Your eyes meet momentarily as you both look up, but you look away first, busying yourself with watching the fire burn away the wood once more. You can still however feel his gaze resting on your face. But you’re too resigned at this moment to feel anything but emptiness.

“Is everyone ready?” Jimin comes along, absolutely chirpy and the complete opposite of how you look and feel. That’s when you sense Jungkook looks away. Jimin settles into the empty spot on the log next to you. He passes around drinks to the group. He offers you one too, but you decline. “Hey” he nudges you.

“Hmm” you turn your attention to him.

“What’s going on with you? Everyone’s been asking me what’s up”

“Nothing’s up” you shrug. “I am absolutely okay”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But at least don’t lie” Jimin purses his lips in a smile.

“Sorry Jiminie. I am just not feeling great. I’ll be okay I promise” you note with a half assed smile.

“So who wants to go first and ask Jungkook questions” Jimin turns to the group once he’s assured by you. The group is made up of mostly older kids in their late teens. But there are some younger children mixed in the group.

A chorus of ‘me, me ,me, me’ starts up.

“How about we go one by one” Jimin suggests and the sea of hands in the air disappears.

“How was the city?” someone from your side asks. But you couldn’t be bothered to know who.

“It was good.” he sighs, poking the fire logs once again. “But it was dull compared to this place” his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

You catch him, if only for a second and then look at your hands as you fiddle with them.

“Did you find a human mate? I am sure you met very pretty girls” one of the girls asks. The question you piques your interest.

You remember she was the one who excitedly told you Jungkook was back.

He doesn’t respond immediately which only makes you think that he did meet someone there. Why wouldn’t he? She’s probably the one he’s imprinted on. You would leave were it not for Jimin who holds your wrist with a shake of his head as soon as he sees you’re about to get up.

“I did meet girls.” Jungkook says, looking at the little girl. “But they are nothing compared to someone else I know” he shifts his gaze to you once more. “She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t see it that way” he looks right at you, like he’s speaking to you, and you only. Time seems to stand still momentarily because he acts like no one else is around. “It’s a shame because she really is the most beautiful girl I have ever met” he holds your gaze, rendering you unable to look away.

You hear aww’s and squeals from all around you which pulls you away from the trance and blinkingly you avert your gaze.

“Does she know you like her?” someone else asks, this time a boy.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think she does. By the way, I thought this was about exchanging stories about our ancestry” he looks around at everyone.

“Yeah. We hear those every month. But this is much more exciting and romantic” one of the older girls probably in her late teens replies, and everyone agrees as they nod or offer a ‘yes’ in agreement. “Tell us more. What’s it like to imprint on someone?”

“Are you sure we should be talking about this? Aren’t they young?” Jungkook looks at Jimin.

“They won’t tell if you don’t. Right guys?” Jimin chuckles and everyone nods eagerly.

“Alright then” Jungkook continues.

At this point you really want to leave because you don’t want to hear about how she makes him happy, and how his whole life has changed because of her. But you stay because some part of you is still holding onto hope of you and him.

“It feels like gravity is shifting from underneath you. When you look at her, you can see everything clearly. It’s as if your past, present, and future come together all at once and everything makes sense. It’s as if you finally find the ‘why’ of your existence. You’ll be anything for her-- whatever she needs be that a protector, a friend, a lover. Anything… he trails.

“That’s so romantic” the girl squeals dreamily. “I want that too”

Jungkook laughs. “Any other burning questions?”

“When are you going to tell her?” another question comes which only furthers your resolve to leave. You get up, having had enough of it. The moment you stand, everyone turns to look at you. Without a word, you begin walking towards the house.

“Don’t you want to know who it is y/n?” Jungkook yells as you leave,  his words halting you in your steps. You feel everyone’s eyes darting back and forth between you and him.

You look over your shoulder. ‘I already told you”

“I think you’ll want to know,” he replies. You hear the crunch of the grass beneath his feet as he walks towards you. He gently places a hand on your elbow to turn you around. “Just let me tell you”

You glance up at the man. “I won’t be a--able to hear it” your voice cracks.

“I did imprint on someone—“

“Jungkook” you say warningly.

“Just listen to me” his grip on your elbow tightens, his jaw tightening.

“Jungkook please” you beg just as your eyes begin to water. You avert your gaze to the side. “Please. I cannot do this” you shake your head.

“I love her” he continues anyway despite your protests. You know he’s looking at you. But you can’t. You can hear the pain in his voice which makes everything so much more worse because that means he could never love anyone the way he loved her. “ She makes everything make sense and-”

“Just stop” you yank your elbow away from his hand and walk away.

You sit at the edge of the pier which juts out to the side from the boardwalk. just as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. The night market bustles in the distance. Crowds and crowds of people and come and go. Yet you feel calm, just watching the waves ripple beneath your feet. You dip them in the cold water, shivers running through your body. You splash the water, trying to pass your time.

You would have gone to the woods but given everything that has happened in that forest, you’re not too fond of it at the moment. This time Jungkook won’t be there to protect you. He’s out with his friends somewhere. You didn’t bother to ask where, not that it is any of your business.

From the periphery of your vision you can see a group of guys jumping down on the wooden planks of the pier.

You feel disappointed because you won’t have the space to yourself anymore.

They’re laughing, and being boys in general which makes you roll your eyes.

They pass by behind you, being as loud as ever. You ignore their incessant and annoyingly loud voices as you focus on the sun which is still in the process of setting. You close your eyes, the wind blowing softly against your face, and through your hair.

“Y/n?”

You instantly whip around to come face to face with none other than the man who had made a home out of your thoughts.

“Jungkook? You’re here?” You question, using your hands to push yourself up.

“Careful” his hands come out as if to hold you in case you fall.

“It’s okay” you tuck strands of hair behind your ears. “I am fine”

“I was just with my friends” he turns behind, and points to them while they stand a respectful distance away. They wave at you and hesitantly you wave back. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to get out of the house. The woods aren’t exactly my favorite place right now. So I thought why not come here” you shrug.

He nods, sliding his fingers in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes. “So…”

“So…” you fold your arms across your chest out of sheer self-consciousness.

“Do you maybe want to-” he starts.

“Hey Jungkook” a random girl throws her arms around his shoulders from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

You look between the two of them.

This must be her. She’s pretty

“I thought we were gonna go eat” she pouts at him questioningly.

He doesn’t look at her as he speaks. Instead he locks eyes with you. He stares at you— wordlessly, like he’s lost in you. “Yeah” his reply is intended for her.

“Well introduce me, won’t you?” she looks at him and then at you.

“This is…” he’s still looking at you and you only.

“I am Alix” she extends a hand, much too cheerfully.

“Y/n” you can only manage to press your lips to feign a smile.

“Ohhh” her mouth opens in realization and she looks at him, like she’s impressed.

This time he looks at her and nods.

“Well y/n, do you want to come to dinner with us?” she offers kindly. But to your ears it’s anything but.

“No. I am alright. But thank you” you look at her. “See you at home Jungkook”

“Just come” he says just as you’re about to turn around to leave.

“I have to do some stuff at home” you say listlessly. “I’ll see you tonight” you reply with a ghost of a smile.

Yet again you turn away from him, not even waiting for his response.

You walk all the way back home, thankful that the way back is quiet, and not many people are around. You take the road from the pier that merges into the street that leads to your house up the hill.

You kick your feet beneath you, sighing heavily every so often. A fluttery feeling intensifies in your stomach the closer you get to home. Your chest feels heavy, a dull ache coming on. Your breathing quickens pace, not so much from the effort of walking up the hill but the mental exhaustion that you’ve faced in the past few weeks.

Love fucking sucks.

Your thoughts are occupied by Jungkook and Jungkook only. Every thought begins and ends with him and soon enough your head is full of memories you spent with him-- good and bad. It’s like a movie playing in your head-- beginning with the first time you saw him after he came back, and just a few minutes ago to Alix and her perfectly pretty face. How could he not love her?

By the end of it, you’re positively bawling your eyes out. Tears upon tears cascade down your face, with no indication of stopping anytime soon. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling. Your legs become heavy with the weight of carrying you up the hill. Your head hurts, and you’re sure you’ll faint if you don’t sit down soon.

You quietly continue to sob, head hung low as you reach the gate. You push it open. Your feet drag beneath you, a heavy tread leaving marks of soil from the walk up on the cemented pathway. You open the door to the house, only to hit your head on something.

“Ow” you mumble, rubbing the spot that’s starting to ache. It only makes you sob more. “What the hell...” you lament under your breath, beginning to cry with the force of someone writhing in pain on all fours. You fall on your knees, everything inside you giving up. You cry the way a child does-- hiccuping, heaving to catch your breath only to have it be drowned by another wave of painful sobs.

“Just stop” Jungkook’s voice cracks, as he falls to his knees in front of you too. “Stop doing this to yourself” he croaks.

“I don’t know how to” you strain.

“I can make it all go away y/n” his cheeks are stained with tears too. He gathers you in his arms just like he’s done before. He kisses the top of your head. “Just let me make it go away. Please”

You break the embrace to look up at him through tear soaked eye lashes. “You can’t” your voice quivers.

“If you just…” he stops to take a deep breath, arms loosely wrapped around your back. He’s defeated into silence by your cries.

“It hurts” you clutch the material of his shirt., tucking your chin into your neck “It hurts so so much”

“It’s you”

You don’t even hear him, as you hide your face behind your hands, your body shaking due to your forceful sobs.

“It’s you.” he says again. “Listen to me. For once. Please” he’s begging you at this point.

You uncover your face to look at him. “What?”

“It’s been you all along”

“Wh…” your mouth remains open as you gawk at him. You hastily wipe your face with your hands as if that will somehow help you make sense of it.

“It’s you” he says in a whisper. “It’s you” he looks into your eyes this time--really looks as he says it for the third time almost like he’s saying it as a mantra. “I love you”

As if on cue, you stop crying because his words sink in. You don’t just hear them, you understand them. You begin connecting the dots. “Holy shit” you look at him daze. “I never even gave you a chance to speak” you bemoan that fact.

A bittersweet chuckle softly crosses his lips. “You didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have tortured yourself like this. Couldn’t you see it?” he searches your eyes for an answer that will make sense to him.

“How could I have? You’re you and I am me-- clumsy and stupid. You acted like there was someone else this whole time” you rub your eyes to dry the tears away.

“You never gave me a chance to tell you. I tried so many times. That night in the woods when I said I feel what you feel, you misunderstood that as being part of my abilities as a werewolf. But that’s not true. I feel every emotion you feel and I feel it ten times more than you because I imprinted on you .Then I tried to tell you during our conversation in game room and you walked away”

“Then why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you just act on it? You should have stopped me”

“You know why” a slight frown adorns his forehead.

You gulp hard, realizing the depth of what you just said. An apology is just at the tip of your tongue. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to consider my feelings ever again. But Jungkook, I can’t. Being around you overwhelms me. All I want to do is be around you, have you in my sights and when you’re not I feel disappointed and sad. I miss you every single second of the day when you’re not there. ”

“I have seen the entirety of us y/n-- everything that was, is and all that is to come ”

“I’ve imagined a whole future with you too”

He doesn’t respond.

Your stomach feels tight, your chest feels like something is pressing on it as his silence continues. Your gaze doesn’t leave him for even a second. You feel like you’re naked, as if the whole of you is on display, vulnerable to the point where even a single look will be enough to make or break you.

“I am just asking you to love me” your soft voice doesn’t dampen the gravity of your words.

He scoffs. “That’s just it though. I don’t just love you. I am bound by you. I am bound to you for the rest of my existence. That’s far scarier than love”

“I don’t know how to reply to that. All I know is I am in love with you exactly the way you’re in love with me” you shift closer to him, locking your fingers in his. “Because I can’t deny you any more than you can deny me”

He looks down and plays with your fingers. “That’s true. But I haven’t stopped thinking about the night you got attacked. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? What would I have done with myself if something happened to you?” his words reflecting the guilt he’s been feeling.

“Quit blaming yourself” you chide him. “Anything can happen to me, or to you at any given time. So stop worrying about that and keep your promise of protecting me. It’s not like you can switch this off”

“Not any more than I can stop breathing” he replies.

“Then love me. It’s simple. Jungkook, we either do this, or we don’t” it’s not that you are giving him an ultimatum, but it’s a fact.

“You know as much as I do, that even if in some ridiculous world I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. So you don’t have to worry about me not loving you. Because that just isn’t possible. Not only because I chose you but because that’s just how it is”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I already told you I love you. You know that I do”

“And that’s supposed to be it?” you raise your brows at him.

His lip quivers into a lopsided smile, the solemn mood beginning to shift. “Tell me what you want”

“Just kiss--”

His lips on yours quiet down your thoughts to nothing. Shivers cascade down your body in waves. He invades each of your senses. The fluttering in your stomach grows intense. His lips feel soft against your own.

Jungkook keeps his eyes slightly open, taking a guilty peek at your face. He still couldn’t imagine if this was a figment of his imagination, or if the universe had gifted him this moment just at the right time. But he felt thankful for it beyond words could express. Every breath he took smelled like you— like water lilies.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” he breathes heavily. He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak because he’s pressing his lips to yours once again— softly and gently. His hands run the sides of your body, the material of your shirt gathering together, exposing your skin.

He guides you up without breaking the kiss, pulling you in to erase every inch of space between your bodies. You can feel every contour of his body against your own. You hold him tight, trying to take in the feeling.

His hands slide under your thighs as he picks you up, you wrap your legs around his hips, as he takes you inside the house. He carries you as if you don’t weigh anything— through the house and up the stairs to his room.

“What” kiss. “About” kiss. “Your parents?”

“Not” kiss  “here” he mumbles between a kiss.

He kicks the door open and carries you in until your back hits a wall. He gently lets you down, till the tips of your toes are touching the floor. He breaks the kiss. “You know I won’t do anything you don’t want right?” his gaze, fixated on your eyes.

You nod, running your tongue over your lips and tasting him.”How could I not want this” you pull him by the nape of his neck, unable to bear even one second of distance. He happily obliges, melting into the kiss with a content sigh. It kind of feels like you’re drunk because there is a slight buzz and your mind feels hazy. You’re thoughtless at the moment, and your entire body is burning. Kissing him, touching him-- is all the intoxication you need to feel out of control. Neither your mind, nor your body is acting under your direction anymore

Your whole being is responding only to Jungkook. Every kiss, every soft touch, every caress, every stroke elicits a reaction from you.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he asks, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. “Tell me exactly what you want” his mouth parts against the skin of your neck as he bites down gently.

You can’t help the moan that passes your lips and fades into the air. “You”

He inhales sharply at your words as if that is enough to turn him on. He lifts his head up to look at you “You wanted me to love you right?” he pushes your thighs out by burying his leg between yours. He pushes his thigh against you exactly where you’re aching for him.

“Oh my god….” your voice fails you.

“I’ve thought of you so many nights, for so long” he pushes in more and you grind your hips against his thigh.

“I want more” you can’t help but mumble. “Please”

A corner of his lip raises in a smirk. “Your wish is my command” . He swipes his thumb against your clothed clit. “Is this what you want baby?”

You nod, a whimper crossing your lips as the sound of your heavy breaths fills the air.

You continue to rock your hips against his thigh, while he continues to rub circles on your clit. “Does that feel good?” he asks, but before you can even respond he’s shoving his tongue down your mouth through your parted lips.

You moan into him. eyes shutting tight at the fluttery sensation between your legs. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, unable to hold yourself up longer as you clench around nothing in particular. You feel the adrenaline in every part of your body-- in the pounding of your heart, in your breathless noises, in the way your body grows warmer by the second.

You open your eyes to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. But he’s already looking at you. His pupils are dilated, irises beginning to change colour from his chocolate brown to blue while he continues to kiss you. His hand stops moving against your clit, and he removes his thigh from between your legs. At the loss of friction you feel like a starved animal, needing more, and more, and more. You didn’t think you could ever feel this way, but he was making you abandon all of your inhibitions and want whatever he could give you. You didn’t know if you would ever feel satisfied after what you started.

But Jungkook knows exactly how to pleasure you and then some more as he picks you up and leads you to his bed where he lays you down. He hovers over you, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of you. He gulps.”Are you sure?”

You only nod.

He shifts down, unbuttoning your jeans, and sliding them out from under your legs. He throws them on the floor. He parts your legs, resting his upper body between your legs. He doesn’t waste any time, as he licks a strip on your clothed clit.

“O-oh- oh my….” your fingers curl around his hair, and you push his mouth flush against your core.

He moans against your flesh, laying kitten licks against the sensitive skin. The friction tenses the knot in your stomach even more. Just when you think there’s nothing more he could do, you feel your insides being stretched as he pushes a finger into you. Your back arches at the sensation. He buries his finger knuckle deep,curling it and inside you and hitting that sweet spot. Broken moans and gasps cross your mouth, while your toes curl from all the pleasure.

Seconds tick by and turn into minutes which turns into hours and just like that the night flies by. You don’t know how many times you come undone under him, above him. You stopped counting after the second time because you weren’t even in a state where you could think about thinking anything.

You lay under the sheets facing each other--limbs entangled and noses almost touching. Every few seconds the tip of his nose touches yours as he moves in to kiss you, but then he stops.

“Stop being a tease” you pout at him.

He laughs, showing his pearly whites. His eyes crinkle at the corners just like they do when he’s happy. He leans in, to place a peck on your lips. Then he shifts his head up to kiss your forehead. Then gently, he places a tender kiss at the tip of your nose. He pulls your hand into his as he brings it to his lips, laying down gentle kisses on each knuckle.

“Who taught you how to be romantic?” you tease

“I’ve always been romantic” his gaze locks with yours, a gentle smile coming onto his lips.

“By the way what did you talk to Jimin about that day?” a sudden curiosity shifts the subject.

A look of realization crosses his face “Ah” he says. “I told him about you”

“So that’s why you were pissed” you chuckle.

“Pissed?” his brows crinkle together.

“You were jealous of course. You looked like you were going to kill him” a corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk.

“No. I wasn’t. That’s childish stuff. I just thought he should know that at that time you were kind of taken. Not really but you know…”

You tap his nose. “If you say so” You trace the outline of his face with your fingers. “Are you happy?” you whisper.

“More than I can tell you. Are you?” he licks his lips as his eyes flicker to yours.

“Mhmm” you nod. “Happiest I have ever been I think”

“Good” he kisses the back of your hand. “That’s all I want for you baby”

“I can’t believe you’re mine” you look into his eyes-- finding yourself falling in love all at once.

“You better believe it” his lips turn up at the corners into a grin. “I don’t know how much humans mean it when they say ‘forever’. But let me tell you us werewolves tend to take the stuff pretty seriously.”

You chuckle silently, huffing through your nose. “Your point being?”

“You better believe I am yours, because you’re forever y/n. Until my last breath”

THANK YOU IF YOU READ THIS! REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE! 

[hookingminor]

4 times his friends posted you on their instagram + 1 time he did - mat barzal

a/n: I wrote this literally back in july so lets just ignore how idealistic this is regarding quarantine but im a slut for some barzy this is all fluff

word count: 4,733

summary: like the title says, some friends (with benefits?) to lovers + a tyson cameo, fluffy summer quarantine fic

tagging @davidpastrsnack​ so kate can get on the barzy train

-

1.

To say the whole quarantine thing was an inconvenience was an understatement. School had ended online, your summer internship was cancelled, and it seemed like your summer would turn into an uneventful couple of months stuck in your apartment in, probably, the worst place to be stuck in during a pandemic: New York City.

Or so you thought.

You’d planned on having the most boring summer ever until your friend, Mat, had invited you to hole up away with him and a few friends in a lake house back in Vancouver. Well, friend was a loose term. The two of you were friends… just ones that kissed occasionally… and sometimes more than kissed. You’d met him about a year ago at a bar while he was out with his teammates after a game. A cliche meeting, but you hit it off instantly. Instead of ending up in his bed at the end of the night (which you would eventually end up at after a couple months), it turned into an exchange of numbers and an invitation to hang out later in the week.

You hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just thinking he was being friendly and wanting to end the conversation, so you were surprised to get a text the next day from an unknown number asking if you’d wanted to go on a bike ride.

Flashforward a year later and the two of you still went on bike rides together. At least, up until the pandemic started.

When the text came telling you to pack your bags for a month or so, you thought he was joking. Surely he couldn’t have meant you to join him in Vancouver over the summer? You were proven wrong when he showed up at your apartment the next day, two coffees in his hand.

“Uh, hi, Mathew,” you said hesitantly, opening your door to reveal your disheveled state, having just woken up.

“Why are you dressed like that? We have a plane to catch in four hours,” he said, pushing himself through your door, uninvited, to set the coffees on the counter.

“What are you doing here? What plane? You’re not supposed to be going out,” you reprimanded him for showing up unannounced and in the middle of quarantine.

“I told you we’re going to Vancouver, I know you read my text. Now let’s hurry up and pack, we gotta get going,” Mat rushed, already on the way to your bedroom.

You followed him after a brief moment once you’d processed what was going on. Mat had already pulled out your suitcase and set it on top of your bed by the time you entered the door. He was in the middle of rifling through your drawers and grabbing random garments to throw into the suitcase when you’d spoken again.

“You’re actually serious about this?”

“Of course I am. What better things do you have to do in a city on lockdown for an entire summer? Honestly, I’m doing you a favor,” he explained easily, turning back to grab more items.

“Oh, you’re doing me a favor? Thank you, Mat, for saving me from a summer of suffering. It’s not like I had other plans to find different internships or focus on my summer classes,” you replied sarcastically.

Mat rolled his eyes. “I am doing you a favor, and you’re doing me a favor by going. I need a hot piece of ass to get me through this, or I will lose my mind.” You slugged him on the shoulder in offense, but all he did was chuckle.

“And anyways, you can still do your classes in Vancouver. Instead of doing them locked in this apartment, you can do them lounged out under the Canadian sun. Preferably in a bikini,” he finished. You slugged his arm again, harder this time.

“In fact, you should take the red bikini, it makes your tits look amazing,” he said, noticing you shuffling through your swimsuits. You rolled your eyes at him but grabbed the red one anyway along with a couple others.

With both of you folding and packing, your bags were ready to go in record time.

“Alright, baby, let’s go.” And so you were off.

A week had gone by in total bliss. As much as you hated to admit it, Mat was right. Vacationing in Vancouver in a secluded lake house was a lot better than being alone in your apartment, even if you did still have classes to do. Mat teased you about it, but he always left you alone for a few hours in the day for you to focus on your work. Unless he really wanted something… like right now.

Mat had joined you laying on the couch while you were in the middle of annotating a book for class. He wiggled his way between your arms, causing you to break your hold on your book. He rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle, and nuzzled his face into your neck. Joining your hands back to your book and bringing your highlighter to the page, you continued to underline phrases you’d come back to later. A couple minutes passed in silence before Mat started sighing. And then he sighed again.

“What do you want?” you huffed out, closing your book with the pen marking your page.

“Let’s go swimming,” he said, pushing up to his elbows to look at your face.

“I have to finish, like, three more chapters today,” you explained.

“You can do that later. I want to go swimming now,” Mat whined.

“You know you sound like a petulant child right now, right?” you asked, moving a hand to his head, pushing his hair back as he pouted.

“Stop using big words on me. Let’s swim,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You paused to think about it for a moment, “Hmm… okay, I guess,” you said with a smile. Mat returned your smile with one of his own before hopping up to drag you to your room to change. It didn’t take much to convince you to swim. It was a really nice day out, and you didn’t really care to finish reading about 17th century philosophy.

You changed into your red bikini, Mat swapped his shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and threw on a backwards baseball cap. You went out back to join the rest of his friend group, who were in the process of loading up the boat with supplies and equipment.

“Oh, look, if it isn’t Brainiac and the Beast. Are you two finally going to go boating with us?” Tyson shouted from the dock. You rolled your eyes at his nickname they created for you and Mat. It had only been a week in Vancouver, but the chirps about you and school were tired by now.

“Princess here wants to swim in the pool, maybe next time!” you shouted back, pointing to Mat.

They laughed at your response, turning their attention back to the boat and running supplies to and from the house. You turned your attention back to Mat, who was taking off his hat and was about two seconds away from jumping in the pool.

“Mathew, stop!” you yelled out, “Get your ass over here!”

“What is it?” he asked, stopping just short of the deep end. He grumbled before marching over to you.

“You need to put sunscreen on first, dumbass,” you reprimanded. As you turned your back to grab the bottle of sunscreen, he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mat,” you said sharply, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

You ignored him, opening the cap and squeezing lotion onto your hands. You gestured him to turn around, and you spread the lotion over it, making sure to rub it into his shoulders.

“I don’t see why I have to put sunscreen on. It’s not even that hot outside,” he muttered.

“First of all, you’re a dumbass. Second of all, heat doesn’t automatically mean the UV rays aren’t strong. And lastly, you’re white, baby, you’ll burn like a sun-dried tomato and being in water only increases the amount of sun you’re exposed to,” you explained, reaching up to rub some on his face.

“Sorry, Miss Meteorologist,” he grumbled, clearly not happy he’d lost this argument.

“One of us has to have brains. We can’t all get by on our good looks and skating ability,” you replied, slapping his cheeks when you were done for good measure.

“Okay, well, if you’re finally done,” you nodded in confirmation, “Let’s go.” He picked you up from under your thighs and ran at full speed towards the pool before you could even process what was happening. You screamed his name in protest begging him to put you down, claiming you hadn’t had time to put on sunscreen yet. He ignored you as he jumped into the deep end, dragging you with him.

You emerged from the water clinging to Mat’s wet body, your hair sopping and hanging over your face like you had come straight out of the movie The Grudge. Mat was laughing at your chaotic look, knowing you were well pissed at him. You jumped higher in the water on top of him to dunk his head under and tried your best to drown him.

It wasn’t until you were relaxing on the couch later that night doing your routinely social media scroll that you saw one of the guys recorded your sunscreen interaction by the pool, you calling Mat a dumbass, and him throwing you in the pool onto their instagram story with a caption “all these two do is fight” with some laughing crying emojis added for effect.

2.

After a long day or hiking, you’d immediately crashed on the couch once you’d gotten back to the house, not bothering to walk all the way to your room. It was only early in the afternoon but you’d been out since sunrise, and dealing with people for hours on end had drained you. The group laughed at you as you plopped your body down onto the couch, curling your head under your arm instead of grabbing the pillow two feet away from you. The rest of them gathered in the kitchen, refueling their bodies with assorted snacks as they started popping open bottles of beer, ready to start the night. It seemed that even an entire day on their feet had not emptied them of their, seemingly endless, energy.

“Jesus Christ, we hiked for, like, six hours and you’re all still bouncing off the walls,” you sighed deeply.

“We’re about to go hit the boat and go water skiing, too. I’m assuming you’re too tired to join us?” Tyson teased.

“I will not be joining you because unlike some people, I need a nap. Now get out of here, you’re all giving me a headache,” you said, pinching your fingers on the bridge of your nose to emphasize your point.

They all snickered but kept quiet as they shuffled around, packing up more food to take outside. You heard the sliding door shut and close a few times as they ran in and out before it was finally silent. You let out a sigh of relief as you took solace in the calm quiet.

That was until you felt a pair of arms shifting you closer to the edge of the couch. You peeked one eye open to see Mat rolling your body over to give him some space as he climbed over your body to nestle himself between you and the back cushions.

“Not going out on the boat?” You asked as he tucked a pillow under the both of your heads and pulled a blanket over your bodies.

“No. They’re exhausting. I need some time for myself,” Mat replied, wrapping his arm around your middle to pull you into his chest.

“No offense, but if you’re with me, you’re not by yourself,” you explained, closing your eyes again as you settled into a comfortable position.

“Yeah, but you’re you. You don’t exhaust me,” he said quietly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. Within a few seconds you heard Mat’s breathing even out, and you followed quickly behind him into a deep sleep.

-

A couple hours passed in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sliding of doors and laughter travel through the house. It stirred you from your sleep and you both shifted around, letting out displeased groans.

“Are they both still asleep?” You heard one of them ask from the kitchen. Neither of you wanted to answer in hopes they would leave you two to continue sleeping.

You were sadly mistaken.

“Hey! Sleeping beauties! Time to get up!” Tyson shouted from somewhere above you.

You both groaned out a “Fuck off, Tyson,” without opening your eyes, both of you giving him the middle finger. Tyson laughed to himself and you expected him to keep bothering you, but you heard his footsteps lead away from the couch. You turned over on your other side, tucking your face into Mat’s neck before falling back asleep.

-

When you woke up later that evening, you checked instagram again to see Tyson posted a new story. It was the video of him bothering you two and flipping him off with a caption that said “I get no respect around here :(“

3.

It had been raining all day. Which meant everyone was stuck inside watching movies and eating pizza. It didn’t take long for you to get bored of lounging on the couch, especially when all they wanted to do was watch Fast and Furious movies. You sat on the loveseat you were sharing with Mat, and you distracted yourself from the boring movie by tangling your hands in your hair, French braiding the strands into pigtails mindlessly. You unbraided and rebraided your hair into a fishtail after the pigtails, and then into a regular braided ponytail after that. You let yourself get caught up in daydreams as you stared blankly at the TV when Mat started tugging on your leg. Dropping your braid, you finished tying it off with a hair tie and turned to look at him.

“Let me practice on you,” Mat said quietly.

“Practice what?” You asked.

“Braiding,” he said, shuffling to sit upright. He tried to gently push you off the couch until you got the hint and moved to sit between his legs on the floor.

“You think you can do it?” You asked, ready to offer him a demonstration.

“I’ve been watching you for the past half hour, I got this,” he replied, pulling out your hair tie. You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but let him continue unraveling the strands.

Every few minutes Mat would sigh exasperatedly before pulling out the twists he’d made to start over. Eventually, he’d almost gotten all the way to the end of your hair before he sighed again, clearly fed up by how long this was taking him. You didn’t say anything as he restarted for a third time, going for a straight back braid instead of a French braid.

After another ten minutes, Mat had finally completed his simple braid, tying your hair off with the tie. He tapped your shoulder to indicate he was done, and you pulled the long tail over your shoulder to look at it.

It was a braid.

An extremely loose one where he mixed up the strand order in a couple places, but a braid nonetheless. You turned around to get back up on the couch, and you were met with his triumphant smile.

“Good job, bud,” you complimented, leaving the braid in as you resumed your previous position on the couch.

-

You checked your phone to find a notification of a new story tag. You opened the app to see a picture of you on the floor, staring at the TV while Mat had his hands twisted in your hair and a confused look on his face and tongue poking out of his mouth. Next to your instagram tag was “he’s been knotting her hair on purpose for 20 minutes now”

4.

Your final exams for the summer classes you were taking were in a week. Finals stressed you out more than anything else in the world, and when you were stressed, you did a lot of baking. A lot of baking. After finishing your finals study schedule and nearly breaking down almost twice because of the amount you had to get done, you decided to start baking instead of going to sleep. So, at 3 in the morning when everyone was asleep, you’d  turned on the oven and brought out the bowls.

It began with a few dozen cookies. You figured everyone could at least enjoy the cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?

Cookies turned into muffins, muffins into cupcakes, and then cupcakes into pies. By the time everyone was waking up, it was nearly eleven in the morning. You’d gone to the store twice and had taken a few twenty minute naps while you waited for your desserts baked in the oven. And right now, you were in the middle of finishing off some cinnamon rolls for breakfast

“Oh my god, what the hell happened here?” Mat had asked with a scared expression, taking note of the disastrous kitchen. You didn’t answer him as you were topping off the rolls with some icing.

A few more bodies had gathered in the kitchen and began to fill the seats at the countertop while they watched you with worried eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently, placing the plates of cinnamon rolls in front of all of them. Their eyes followed you carefully as you pulled more goods out of the oven where you were keeping them warm. Plate after plate you set on the counter, all the cookies and muffins and cakes.

“How long have you been up?” Tyson asked cautiously. You swear you’ve never heard him use a softer voice than right now.

“I’m not sure. I never went to sleep, I guess? What time is it now?” You asked, pulling out glasses for orange juice.

“Nearly noon. You seriously didn’t sleep?” Tyson asked. The others had delved into the confections, eyes bouncing between the two of you as they stuffed their faces.

“She’s stress baking,” Mat replied quietly, helping himself to a cinnamon roll.

“What the hell is tress baking?” One of the other guys asked.

“Yeah she does this when she’s stressed. Usually when finals are coming up,” Mat said, directing it more towards you than his friend. You gave him a sheepish look, deciding not to comment since he already answered for you.

Mat was used to your stress baking as it resulted in you showing up at his place in the middle of the night with bags full of pastries in the late hours of the evening. It was always against his diet and he frequently gave most of your desserts to his neighbor, but he could never tell you no when you arrived with gifts.

“Well, I’m all out of flour, so, I’m going to run to the store again to get some more supplies so I can make a chocolate cake later,” you said hurriedly.

You did a quick double check of the kitchen, flashing all the guys a bright smile before heading out the door with your purse in hand, all of them staring until the front door shut behind you.

-

When you came back, you found Mat in the kitchen doing the dishes and nearly all the sweets you’d baked earlier were eaten or wrapped and put away. Maybe there was a plus side to being in a home with five other people.

“Mat, you don’t have to do that,” you said, setting your groceries down and hip checking him away from the sink.

“You’re already stressed, I figured doing the dishes would take away some of that,” he said with a shrug. He continued rinsing out some bowls as you gave him a small smile.

The two of you continued to wash the dishes in silence, moving to clean the countertops when you were done. After half an hour, the mess you’d made was gone and any signs of a baking breakdown had been erased.

It was a shame you were about to tear up the kitchen all over again.

“How about this,” Mat said, noticing the frown on your face at the thought of making another mess, “Let’s have a competition.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“You said you were making a chocolate cake, right? How about we see who can make the better cake,” Mat propositioned.

You raised both your eyebrows this time. You both knew you were the better baker by a long shot. You did have this same breakdown at least twice a year. You weren’t even sure Mat knew how to make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or included possible salmonella-inducing ingredients.

You knew what he was really trying to do. He was trying to distract you from all the stress, and he knew you couldn’t turn down a competition. You were just as bad as him when it came to winning. Thankfully, this was something you knew you’d win.

“Fine, but I hope you’re prepared to lose,” you agreed with a smile.

“I don’t know, I have been practicing my cooking skills lately,” he said, grabbing the bowls he’d just dried off.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied with an eye roll and heavy sarcasm.

You joined him in gathering all the ingredients and materials on the counter, setting up your respective stations. Mat divided the workspace in half, drawing a line in flour which made you laugh. You split the bowls between the sides and set up the ingredients on the second counter just like an actual cooking show.

“Okay, ground rules first. Half an hour to make the cakes, we bake them at the same time, and then another half hour for decorating at the end,” you explained, tying your hair back in a ponytail. Mat nodded at your statement and set a timer on his phone for 30 minutes.

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“Go!”

-

After about two hours, your creations were done. Well, they were supposed to be. Mat’s cake looked more or less like a brown lump coated in frosting and stripes. You’d tried your best to decorate yours with small chocolate roses, but you could’ve turned out a plain cake and probably would have done better.

“I think I won,” you stated confidently.

“You’re not allowed to decide, you’re biased! I’ll make a poll on my story,” Mat said, going to grab his phone.

“You can’t do that, your followers are going to pick yours.”

“Fine, we’ll get someone else to do it— Josty! Come here,” Mat called to his friend passing through the kitchen. He hesitantly walked over to where you were, not wanting to come in the middle of whatever you two were shouting about.

“We need you to make an instagram poll to see who’s cake looks better. Oh, and you’re going to taste test them,” you said, picking up your cake to pose for a picture as Mat did the same. Tyson sighed before realizing you two were serious and he opened his app to take a picture.

He added the photo to his story with a poll asking “Which one is better?” With two options, Y/N’s or Mat’s.

After you set the cakes back down, Tyson picked up a fork before stabbing them to pick out a chunk from each. He ate yours first, nearly moaning at the taste.

“Holy shit, this is, like, the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” Tyson said, shoveling down another forkful. You gave Mat a shit-eating grin.

“Okay, okay, try mine now,” Mat said, displeased. Tyson rolled his eyes before forking out some of his.

“Uh,” he coughed, “it’s a little,” cough, “dry.”

“What? No, it’s not! Let me try,” Mat shouted, outraged, and grabbed Tyson’s fork to try for himself.

It took him two seconds before he was spitting the cake into a napkin.

“Fine. You win,” Mat conceded, throwing a dish towel against the counter in mock fury.

You gloated for another 5 minutes, pointing out Mat’s terrible baking skills as Tyson continued to eat your cake and laugh at Mat.

You won the instagram poll too.

+ 1

It was the last week before you and Mat were flying back to New York. The past month had passed quickly, and Mat needed to get back for the start of training camps. As the summer began to end, the whole crew thought they’d spend one last day on the boat before everyone started parting ways.

It’s not like you were opposed to being on boats, but when all the guys did was water sports and no one wanted to slow down to teach you, it wasn’t as fun.

Today, however, had been quite calm as you sat against the front of the boat, a seltzer in hand as you watched Tyson wakeboarding in the back. Mat was curled up behind you as you leaned back against his chest, tanned skin shining in the summer sun. You reached back to grab the baseball cap off his head, placing it on yours to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten to bring sunglasses, and you figured Mat could part with his hat since he had a pair.

The day passed peacefully as all the guys took turns until it was sunset. Mat had joined you back on the seat, skin wet from just getting out of the water. He wrapped you in his arms before pulling you onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Tys, take a picture of us real quick,” Mat said, shoving his phone into Tyson’s chest.

You thought nothing of it, you and Mat had taken many pictures together, and this was no different. Mat rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach as you both gave your cheesiest smiles to the camera. A quick shutter indicated the picture was taken and Tyson gave Mat his phone back.

-

Mat called your name from your bed as you stood in the adjoined bathroom, finishing your nightly routine.

“Hey, do you mind if I post that picture of us on my instagram?” Mat called out.

“The one from the boat? Why?” You asked, drying off your face with a towel.

“It’s a cute picture,” he shrugged when you reentered the room.

“People are going to start talking if you do,” you warned with a cautious tone.

He paused for a second.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Mat asked quietly, looking up to meet your eyes.

You stayed silent as you climbed in under the covers.

“What are you trying to say, Mat?”

He took a deep breath, “I think you’re amazing, you know that. And we’ve been friends for so long, it kind of feels natural, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tapping against the sheets anxiously as he held his breath and waited for your response.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body around to fully face him.

“It does,” you agreed, “But if you want us to be something more, you’re going to have to ask me on a date first.”

“A date? After I’ve already gotten you into bed? What’s the point?” You knew he meant it as a joke since he could barely finish the sentence without laughing, but you gently slapped his head as he began to apologize.

“I’m kidding!” He said between chuckles, “Will you go on a date with me once we get back to New York and it’s safe to go out again?”

“I’d love to, Mat,” you replied, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.

“I’m still going to post that photo tomorrow, though,” he said after a short pause, smiling against your lips.

-

The next day when Mat had gone on a fishing trip with the guys, you saw a notification pop up on your phone.

“@barzal97 tagged you in a photo”

You unlocked your phone.

“Isolation isn’t so bad when you have this girl to spend it with”

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 5 & Seasons of PD: Season 7: Necrotizing Fasciitis Scare (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I am going to get you to understand football at this game come hell or high water," Jay told you as you said that you really didn't understand anything about football while Kevin tried to hook up the tv. Kelly threw Jay the football and Jay caught it.

"Hell or high water, huh?" you asked. "Did you just turn southern? Isn't that a southern phrase?"

"I can say whatever I want, thank you were much. Now catch." He threw you the football and you caught it easily.

"Kelly, I can't promise this is gonna be a good throw, so be ready to move," you told him as you threw the football to him. He had to jump to the left and jump high to catch it.

"Y/N, you suck at this," he laughed.

"I know."

"Jay, teach your sister how to throw a football, will you?"

He threw the ball back to Jay.

All of you were currently at Soldier Field to watch the Bears' game on a Friday afternoon. Will was originally going to go with Jay and you were going to study for your biology class, even though it was summer. You had decided to take a summer biology class so then you wouldn't have to deal with it during the fall and winter semesters when you'd be drowning in homework with other classes...and you figured you could do this one in the summer because you had heard horror stories of how hard this specific professor at CCU was. Luckily for you, Will was a doctor and could help you understand those damn diagrams that always gave you trouble.

Anyway, Will was going to come, but he got put on the schedule last minute, so Jay dragged you here even though you didn't know the slightest bit about football. Hell, you didn't even have any Bears gear to wear! Jay had given you one of his hats to wear with the promise that he'd get it back.

"Y/N!" Hailey yelled to you. "Wanna run to Mama Garcia's food truck with me?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed.

"Hailey," Jay whined. "I was just about to teach her how to throw a football."

"Halstead, if she doesn't know yet, I'm sure you can wait a few minutes. Now, I need my Spanish-speaking Halstead to come with me."

You had taken AP Spanish last year and had gotten a good enough grade on the AP exam to give you twelve college credits. This was partly thanks to Mama Garcia. You had been studying in her restaurant one night when you asked her a question about a tense. She explained it and then said that if you ever wanted to practice speaking Spanish and make some money at the same time, that you could work or her under the table. You took her up on that offer and your Spanish improved immensely.

Once you got up to the window of the food truck, you ordered a big batch of tamales in Spanish and then translated how much it was to Hailey. Then, you and Hailey went back to Jay and the rest of all your brother's first responder friends.

Kelly was yelling at Stella, Hailey, and you not to break into the tamales before the burgers were done, but you all didn't listen and each grabbed one out of the box.

You were in the middle of eating yours when you heard a scream.

You went towards the scream along with Jay, Natalie, and Kelly, but Jay made sure you stayed behind him. But, this didn't block your entire view, though.

You looked down at this man's leg. It was red and it looked like there was a giant gash on his shin with puss, blood, and flesh coming out. Things were moving underneath the skin. He was seizing and he kept saying BRT.

It was all too much. You took the Bears hat off.

"Y/N, I need you to get away from this. Whatever this guy has, I don't want you to--"

Jay didn't even finish his sentence before you vomited into that he had let you use, using it as a makeshift bowl for your puke.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side after you finished emptying that tamale you had started eating into his hat.

"You done? You good?" Jay asked.

You coughed and then wiped your mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about your hat. I just- I don't like blood and that was nasty."

"I know. I think everyone's going to Med, so we'll run to the bathroom so we can throw away my hat now and you can rinse out your mouth. I think I have gum in my truck."

"Okay. Be glad I had the smart idea to puke into that hat, though. Or else it probably would've gone on you."

"Yeah, but I lost a nice hat in the process," Jay said as he rolled his eyes and you two made your way towards the bathrooms.

***

"It's necrotizing fasciitis," Will said. Everyone looked at him with a blank expression.

"Flesh-eating bacteria," you supplied.

"Wow, where'd you learn that, Short Stack?" Will asked.

"Can you not call me that? I'm eighteen! And, I learned it by watching Untold Stories of the ER."

"Junior doctor on our hands I think, Jay. And, you're still shorter than me and Jay so I can call you that, thank you very much."

"After her puking just at the sight of that, yeah, no way she's becoming a doctor," Jay said. "Anyway, the victim?"

"Right, sorry. Your victim had necrotizing fasciitis, more commonly known as, as Y/N said, flesh-eating bacteria. And, don't worry, it's not contagious. Only about four in a million people get it each year," Will explained.

"So, how do you get nec..." Kelly trailed off, not knowing the correct pronunciation.

"Necrotizing fasciitis. It enters through a break in the skin and just destroys the tissue under the epidermis. It--"

"The epidermis is the first layer of the skin," you said, reciting something you had learned in your biology class.

"Yes, it's the first layer of skin. But, as I was saying, it would really help us treat this guy if we knew who he was," Will finished after your interruption.

"I can't open a case file without a crime," Jay started, "but I'll see if I can run prints and check traffic cam footage. Maybe make out some sort of ID."

After a few minutes, everyone's panic had died down and you and Kelly were sitting down next to each other. He was trying to explain football to you even though you really couldn't care less. Meanwhile, Jay was about to make a phone call when Will motioned him over.

"Yeah?" Jay asked.

"You or Y/N have any contact with the victim? And, if you did, do you or her have any breaks in the skin?" Will asked, clearly worried about his younger siblings.

"No, we didn't have any contact. Just had Y/N puke in my hat I let her borrow," Jay answered.

"Okay, good. But, as I said, necrotizing fasciitis is rare, so you two should be fine. I gotta get back, but call if you find out anything on the victim."

"Will do. Remember to wear your gloves." Will rolled his eyes. "What? You just said it enters through breaks in the skin."

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"One of my many talents."

***

"Hey, I'm leaving," Jay told you around noon the next day, poking his head into your bedroom while you stared at your lab lectures, trying to remember all the diagrams and pictures you'd need to help you identify body parts on your next lab practical.

"Okay, I'm going to the lab around 2:00 to study. That way I can actually see that stuff as I'll see it on the lab practical," you told him, not even looking up from your notes.

"Okay, be safe." He picked up Beary, who was leaning up against a pillow next to you, in a graduation gown and cap outfit. "Beary, can you make sure she takes breaks?" Then, his voice changed into his baby voice, what he always pretended was Beary's voice. "Oh, yes, Jay. I'll make sure she takes breaks while you're gone."

You laughed and reached out and took Beary from him. "Get outta here, you goon."

"Love you, too!" Jay called as he left your room.

You fixed Beary's cap and set him down, remembering when you got the outfit for him as you stared at diagrams.

"You ready, graduate?" Jay asked as he knocked on your door.

"Jay, I swear to God if you call me graduate one more time..." you said as you opened the door.

"You'll what?" he taunted.

"You know what, I don't know, but you won't like it. Are my bobbi pins noticeable?" you asked, referring to the bobbi pins you had pinned down to keep your blue graduation cap in place.

"Nope. You're good. Ready?"

"Ready."

You walked into the kitchen, to be met with Will. And behind him on the kitchen table was a vase of blue and white flowers, which were your school colors, and Beary leaning up against said flowers, wearing a blue graduation cap and gown. Just like you.

You laughed. "I cannot believe you guys."

"Hey," Will started, "Beary got a little backpack on your first day of kindergarten. Only fair that he gets a cap and gown on your graduation."

"Did you use the gift card from Mom?" you asked, referring to the one you had found in the letters to each of you that Will had found when you were cleaning out your dad's house after he died.

"We did," Jay confirmed. "Now, I need you to hold Beary in one hand and hold this picture." He handed you a photo of you with your little backpack on and Beary with his that your mom had taken of you on the front porch on your first day of kindergarten, right before Jay had surprised you by coming home from deployment early.

"Why do I need both?" you asked curiously.

"I saw this thing on Pinterest--"

"Wait!" Will exclaimed. "You have a Pinterest?"

"No," Jay scoffed. "But Hailey does. And she sent me a picture of something she thought you should do for your graduation pictures. You hold up a picture of you on your first day of school when you were little while you're wearing your cap and gown and then I take a picture of you. Since Beary was in that picture, I thought he could be in this one, too."

You grabbed Beary and allowed him to take the pictures. Now it was time to tell the news to your mom and dad.

***

"You won't believe what Will and Jay decided they just needed to get me," you said as you stood in front of your parents' headstone with Beary hidden behind your back. Will and Jay were over by a big tree talking amongst themselves so you could have some privacy. You pulled Beary from behind your back. "They got me a cap and gown for him because they said it was only fair because Beary got a backpack on my first day of school. And, since it's my last day of school, he should get a cap and gown, too.

"Also, which one of you called Will and Jay graduate all day on the day of their graduation? Because Jay won't stop calling me that and it's kinda getting on my nerves. Pretty sure it was you, Mom."

You sighed. "I wish you guys were here. Jay told me all about how you made him a special breakfast when he graduated and then went out for lunch before the actual graduation because the senior all-nighter was after. I don't know where we're going for our senior all-nighter, but I hope it's not boring. I've heard that a few years ago, some kids said theirs was super boring. I really don't want that. But, I'm glad that I could convince Will and Jay not to be chaperones for whatever my senior all-nighter is. I love them and all, but they can be a bit too overprotective at times.

"God, you guys should be here. Dad, I know you weren't the best, but you were trying. And, I'm sure if Mom was here, she'd make sure you behaved, because Mom would say it was a big day and that you couldn't be arguing with Jay." You laughed. "I can only imagine what it would look like with Jay on one side of you, Mom, and Dad on the other and you scolding both of them for fighting. Then, they'd both probably sit back and cross their arms. And, because of this, you'd probably say that I'm your favorite child."

"Alright," Jay laughed as he and Will made their way back to you. "I think it's time to go. We don't want to miss your graduation."

"You know none of us really care about the ceremony, right?" you asked, blinking back tears so that you wouldn't mess up your makeup.

"We know. It's mostly for the parents...or in your case, brothers," Will said.

You pulled out four flowers, two blue and two white, which you had taken from the bouquet that Will had placed on the kitchen table back at home, from the pockets in your dress underneath your graduation gown. "Give me one more minute."

You placed two flowers, one of each color, on top of your Mom's name and your Dad's name on the headstone. "I thought you two should have some, too. They're my school colors." You wiped your eyes as you felt a few tears prick them. "Remember to clap for me from heaven when I walk across that stage, okay?"

You took a deep shaky breath and turned back around. Will wrapped an arm around you as the three of you walked back to Jay's truck. Beary hung from your hand. In three hours, you'll have graduated high school.

You were taken out of your thoughts by your phone ringing. It was the coffee shop you worked at. And, no, it was not the one in your apartment building. But, Jay and other members of Intelligence did sometimes come in there to pick up coffee for them and the rest of the unit. This was only because they knew they'd get the friends and family discount since you worked there. But, they usually tipped you well, so you didn't mind.

Your manager asked you to come into work because someone couldn't come in. As much as you needed to study for your biology lab practical, you needed money for college more. And, you could always go to the lab tomorrow to practice for your lab practical. You also had Will. What good was having a doctor in the family if not to help you with your science homework? So, you decided to pick up the extra shift making coffee.

***

"Voight," Hank Voight said as he answered his phone.

"Hank, it's Wallace Boden. I need you to come down to the CCU science lab right now."

"Why?"

"Because Severide just told me that the victim at Soldier Field yesterday kept chanting BRT. This place is owned by BRT Labs. And, there was a fire set."

"You're thinking arson? You know we don't investigate that, Wallace."

"I know. Office of Fire Investigation is already on it."

"But, you think that the victim yesterday and the fire today could be connected?" Voight asked.

"I think it's highly possible. All I ask is that you come down here, maybe take a look inside, do some interviews, stuff you normally would do."

"Alright. I'll grab Halstead and Upton and we'll head down there."

"Thank you."

Voight hung up his phone and turned to his team, all of whom were knee-deep in paperwork after taking off yesterday to see the Bears game...which they didn't even get to see in the end. "Chief Boden needs some of us down at the CCU lab. There could be a connection--"

"Did you say the CCU lab?" Jay asked, standing up from his chair.

"Yes, Halstead, Upton, you're with me. The rest of you, stay here. We'll let you know if we need you or you need to look up information here." Voight looked to Jay who looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Halstead, we're going."

"Y/N's at the lab."

"It's Saturday," Hailey pointed out. "There's no classes on Saturdays."

"She said she was going there to study for a test. Oh, God. What if--"

"Jay," Hailey said as she walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You just need to call or text her on the way there. She'll be okay. C'mon, let's go."

"Atwater, come with me," Voight said. "Just in case Jay's gotta go."

***

You finally took your fifteen-minute break after being swamped for a good half hour straight. Who knew so many people wanted coffee at four in the afternoon? The first thing you saw were seven missed calls and texts in all caps. They were all from Jay.

"What the hell?" you muttered as you pressed Jay's contact and brought your phone to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. "Why are you--"

"Where are you? The firefighters said they haven't seen you come out yet," he rushed out.

"I'm at work. What firefighters? What are you talking about, Jay?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows together.

"You're at work?" Jay asked. "I thought you were going to school to study?"

"I was. But, then my manager called me in. Why? What happened?"

Jay felt so much relief wash over him that he almost fell over in the grass on the CCU campus. "There was a fire in the lab."

"What? Are my friends okay? Did anyone die?" you rushed out. They weren't totally your friends, more your classmates, but you figured that was the easiest thing to call them.

"As far as I know, there weren't any fatalities."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, okay, good."

"Just do me a favor: next time your plans change, text me."

"I can't promise I can remember that."

"Figures. But, I gotta go. Stay safe."

***

"Son of a bitch!" Jay yelled and threw his phone on the couch just as you entered your apartment after finishing your closing shift at the coffee shop.

"What?" you asked as you shut the door and then set your keys down and took off your hat.

"Hailey's in quarantine," he told you. "And it's all my fault."

"What? It's your fault? How'd it even happen? Why are people being quarantined?"

"Turns out that necro thing isn't as rare as Will told us."

"Jay, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Uh, there were a bunch of people at an apartment building who got the disease, so Will and others are there looking for a thing that somebody says they saw spraying the building. Could've been this exterminator person was trying to poison people in the building," Jay told you. "And now everyone in the building is quarantined at Med."

"And Hailey was in the apartment building...?" you asked, not knowing what this had to do with Hailey.

"I had her go to a house to talk to someone who was in the lab the same time as the victim. She, uh, the girl Hailey was talking to, fell over and she had the infection and Hailey touched her.

"Hailey had a hangnail or something—at least, that's the info that Will got from Natalie, and Will passed it on to me—so now she's in quarantine at Med. If I wouldn't have told her to go check out the lead, then maybe she wouldn't be in quarantine right now."

"Jay," you started, "you can't blame yourself. If it wasn't Hailey, it would've been you. Then you'd be quarantining at Med right now. And if it wasn't you or Hailey, it would've been someone else from Intelligence and then they'd be in quarantine right now."

"How did you get so mature?"

"Trauma."

Jay's expression immediately changed. "What? Y/N, if you need someone to talk to, I can get you that."

You laughed. "Jay, chill. It's a psych major joke...even though I know I really shouldn't be joking about trauma no matter what."

"Okay, good. Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I mean, I guess. What are we watching? And, I'm gonna make popcorn, too."

"Okay. We can watch anything but Contagion," Jay told you.

"What's Contagion?"

"It's about this virus that breaks out all over a city...much like what's happening now."

"Oooh, now I want to watch it."

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

***

"Hello?" you said into the phone the next afternoon when Mama Garcia called you. Jay was out working the case, Will was trying to find a cure for this bacterial strain, and Hailey was out of quarantine because she was cleared by Natalie. So, Jay wasn't blaming himself anymore.

You quickly spoke Spanish with Mama Garcia and she asked if you could come in because they got a huge catering order last minute and she needed someone to man the cash register while she helped in the back making the order. You agreed and made your way to Mama Garcia's.

***

You were busy working the cash register and speaking Spanish with the friendly customers when you started hearing yelling outside, something about MS-13. You excused yourself and made your way to the back where Mama Garcia was working on tamales.

"They're saying something about MS-13 out there," you told her in Spanish.

"I'm going to need you to say that in English, chica," she told you. "I think you said it wrong because you just mentioned MS-13," she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"No, they're saying crazy stuff," you began. "They're chanting that you're part of MS-13. You can't hear it?"

"It's loud back here. Maybe I'll hear it if I go to the front."

She came to the front with you where some customers were leaving the building through the side entrance to get away from the mob. There weren't any customers left in the little restaurant anymore.

"Dios mio," she whispered.

There had to have been at least two dozen or more people outside all yelling and saying that she was to blame for the bacteria. Some even held signs. Some had guns or sharp objects.

You pulled out your phone. "I'm calling--"

You stopped when you heard a crash. You barely had time to register what was happening as the Molotov cocktail flew through the window and shattered everywhere, lighting the place on fire and sending shards of glass everywhere, some ending up lodged in your leg as you screamed in fear and pain.

***

The men and women of Firehouse 51 got a call of a public disturbance at Mama Garcia's. As they pulled up, they saw the Molotov cocktail fly right through the front window towards you and Mama Garcia. Casey started barking out orders and everyone sprang into action.

You were inside and the smoke was getting thicker. Whatever they made this out of actually worked. You pulled your shirt up to your nose and mouth to try and stop inhaling it, but it didn't work very well.

You had been in front of Mama Garcia at the time it was thrown through the window, so you took most of the glass shards. This caused you so much pain that it was hard for you to move through the kitchen and to the door to get out.

"Fire department! Call out!" you heard Stella yell as you kept trying to walk toward the back door.

"Here!" you yelled.

"Fire department! Call out!"

"Back here! Help! Help!"

You heard heavy footsteps coming toward you and then you saw a firefighter and you felt a hand wrap around you.

"Hang on. You're gonna get out of here." Stella. "Casey," she said into her radio. "I need some help in here. Female victim, trouble walking, in the back in what looks like the kitchen."

"Copy. Coming in, Kidd."

About thirty seconds later you were picked up and told to close your eyes. You did, and it was only when you finally got outside, did Truck 81 realize who they had rescued.

***

Will was currently working in the lab trying to find an antidote to this terrible outbreak. But, something about Dr. Seldon was suspicious. He wasn't a detective like his younger brother,  but he still trusted his gut.

Dr. Seldon hadn't noticed that Will was still in the lab when he started pouring chemicals into the samples. Now Will knew something was most definitely wrong.

"What are you doing?" he asked loudly, startling Dr. Seldon.

"Oh, these are contaminated samples," he answered easily like he had rehearsed what he was going to say.

Will pointed directly at him. "No. You know what? You need to stay right here."

Then, Seldon threw a punch and Will caught it easily. But, then Seldon hit him again in the stomach. In the split second that Will was doubled over, Seldon picked up a microscope and cold-cocked Will right over the head, causing him to fall to the ground as everything went black and he clutched his bleeding head.

***

Hailey was now back in the bullpen after being quarantined because she got checked out and everything was fine. She had to tell Jay to stop apologizing and that it wasn't his fault he had gotten into that mess.

"That's a blue hat, right before 2:00," Ruzek said as he looked at the security footage.

"Wait, I know this guy," Jay started. "He works at the CCU lab." His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. "He's with Will. We gotta go now!"

As Jay was sprinting out of the bullpen, his phone started ringing.

"Man, your phone!" Adam yelled.

"Just let it go to voice-mail!" Jay yelled as he ran down the stairs, not knowing that it was Casey calling him to let him know that they had pulled you out of a fire and you were currently being treated at Med.

***

You rubbed your eyes as you woke up a few hours later. You didn't know if it was the meds the nurse gave you to knock you out so she could pull the shards of glass out of your body or if it was from a combination of smoke inhalation and tiredness. Whatever the reason, you were awake now.

You turned to see your brothers and were very confused to see that Will was holding an ice pack to his head and Jay looked like he had gotten new stitches in his forearm.

"The hell--" You roughly cleared your throat. "The hell happened to you two?"

"We found the guy," Jay told you. "But, not before he cold-cocked Will over the head with a microscope."

"Who was he?" you asked.

"A professor at CCU. Dr. Seldon."

"I've heard of him. I think he only teaches graduate classes though, so I'd never end up being in one of his classes anyway. I'm assuming he's not teaching anymore?"

"Not a chance in hell," Jay confirmed. "If he wants to teach, he can teach all the other prisoners at Stateville."

"What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, you know him," Will began. "He's always putting other people's safety in front of his own like the idiot he is." Jay thought about smacking his older brother upside the head but decided against it only because he had just been hit in the head. "He decided that he'd rather be infected with the bacteria instead of the people in a conference room where Seldon was. So, he cut himself."

"You what? Do you have the bacteria?" you asked as your eyes widened in fear.

"No, I don't. Hailey shot in there to distract him and then I disarmed him. Will came in with the antidote anyway, but luckily we didn't need to use it."

"If Hailey got paid overtime every time she saved your ass, she'd never have to work again."

"Tell me about it," Jay agreed.

"Now, what happened to you?" Will asked. "Casey told us you were at Mama Garcia's?"

"Yeah, she called and asked me to run the front since she needed to be in the back to help work on a catering order. I went in and an hour later, there were all these protesters outside calling her a member of MS-13 and saying she started the outbreak."

"How?" Jay wondered. "Mama Garcia's like the sweetest lady alive."

"I don't know. Because people online are crazy? And then someone threw a flaming bottle of something through the window."

"And that's how the glass got in your leg?" Will asked. You nodded. "Well, the good news is that Maggie told me the damage was artificial. The reason you passed out was because of smoke inhalation. They gave you some oxygen and you're good to go once you're ready."

"Then why don't I have one of those nose thingies in?" you asked.

"A nasal cannula?" Will chuckled. You nodded. "It's because you slept long enough with it on that your oxygen is back up. And, the paramedics gave you oxygen, too. That's why you don't need it. Your levels are back to normal."

"Oh. Okay."

"You want your discharge paperwork?" Will asked.

"Yeah, Jay's gotta fill it out."

"Nope. You are not a minor anymore. So, you get to fill out your own paperwork."

You groaned as he handed you the clipboard with the paperwork on it. Now you knew why both Jay and Will hated paperwork so much. There was so much even for one little thing!

"You know, I think since you've achieved frequent flyer status at Med," Will began, "that Beary needs a hospital gown, too."

"No! Don't you dare!"

"Just write it down and give it to her for Christmas," Jay joked. But honestly, when it came to that bear and presents, you never knew if either of them was joking or not.

Everything seemed back to normal at that moment: Jay and Will joking about your Build-A-Bear, you and Jay constantly being in the hospital for whatever reason and life. Life was back to normal after this crazy weekend that had everyone in Chicago on edge and you couldn't be happier.

A/N: Idk how I feel about this one. There was so much going on in that crossover, that it was hard for me to figure out what I wanted to focus on...so, it turned into a shorter imagine. Anyway, thank you guys so, so much for reading! I also start my new job tomorrow, so updates might be a little less frequent (one or two a week, depending on how long the imagines are and how much I have to work). Anyway, please like/reblog and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

[wonjaekook]

Residual Starshine

Pairing:  Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader

Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.

Word Count: 19.3k

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst

Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @junglewoos​ @insomni-writing​ @neowritingsnet​

This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs​ has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.

You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds.  All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.

Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.

When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.

Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-

You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”

Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.

“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”

One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”

“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.

“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.

“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”

Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”

With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”

After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”

“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”

“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”

“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.

“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.

You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”

“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”

You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”

He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”

“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.

“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”

He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”

“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.

“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”

“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”

“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”

You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”

“Great morning, isn’t it?”

You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”

“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.” “You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.

“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”

“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.

The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.

Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.

As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.

You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”

He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”

You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.

Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.

That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.

“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.

“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”

“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”

“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.

“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”

Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”

“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.

Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”

“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”

“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”

“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”

“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.

That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.

The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.

The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.

“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.

“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”

“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.

He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”

“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.

“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”

You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”

“What position does he play?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”

“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.

“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.

“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.

“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.

“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”

You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”

A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.

From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.

You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.

The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”

After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.

Then, the whistle is blown.

The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.

For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.

The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.

The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.

“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”

When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”

“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.

“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.

“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”

“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”

“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.

“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”

There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.

Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.

“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”

You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”

“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”

You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”

The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.

“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.

“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.

After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”

You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.

“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.

“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.

From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended.  “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”

Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”

Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”

As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.

“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”

It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.

A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.

You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.

On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.

As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.

There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.

You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.

The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.

To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.

Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.

NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??

An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.

He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”

You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”

“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?” “I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.

B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.

At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.” The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”

“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”

“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.

You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.

Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”

Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”

You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”

“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.

“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.

“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.

Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!” “I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.

“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”

There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”

“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.

Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”

He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”

“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.

“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.

You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.

The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”

At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”

He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.

Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”

You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”

The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”

“This again?” You say, frowning.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”

“I also help you with your statistics homework.”

“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”

“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”

You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”

You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”

On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”

“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”

“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”

You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.

The next Friday, you receive a strange text.

Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?

You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.

Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics

Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.

Y/N: Hi! What’s up?

Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble

Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?

Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.

As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”

Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”

“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”

The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”

“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.

“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”

“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”

It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.

When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”

“You could say that.”

The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”

“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.

As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”

His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”

“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.

“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.

“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”

Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”

He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”

You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”

That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”

“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”

“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”

His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”

The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.

Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”

“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”

“I get it,” you respond, nodding.

“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?

Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.

When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.

That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.

When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?

Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.

The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.

Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.

During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”

He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”

“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”

“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”

“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”

“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.

You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.

“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”

“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.

“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”

“I asked him to.”

“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.

“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.

“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”

“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.

You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”

“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”

The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.

After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.

“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.

“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.

“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”

“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.

“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”

“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”

“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”

With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.

You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…

It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.

That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?

You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question. You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.

Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.

The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.

Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.

“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”

You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.

Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.

He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.

As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.

You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.

The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.

At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.

You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.

He misses.

You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.

The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.

You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.

You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.

“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.

“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.

“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.

“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”

The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”

“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”

He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.

“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”

You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”

“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”

“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”

“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.

“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.

As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench. “Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”

“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.

“Yuta, it’s me.”

“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”

“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.

“You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.

“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.

“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.

“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.

“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.

“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”

“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.

“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.

“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”

The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”

“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”

“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”

His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”

He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”

You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.

“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.

“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”

The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.

The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.

You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.

You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.

Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”

“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”

You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”

You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.

“These have to come off.”

“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.

“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”

You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.

“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.

“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”

He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.

His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.

You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.

“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”

“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-

Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”

You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”

“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”

“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”

“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”

“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”

The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”

The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”

“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.

His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.

“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”

“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-

“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.

“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”

All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.

Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”

“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.

Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”

You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”

“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.

As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”

He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”

You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”

“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”

“Hm?”

“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.

You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”

“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”

“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”

He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”

He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.

“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.

“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.

“Do you want to go professional?”

He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”

“I really think you could do it!”

Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”

At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.

Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.

In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.

When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.” “Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”

“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”

“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.

“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”

“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”

“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”

He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”

“You’re weird and a horndog and-”

“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.

“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”

“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.

He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.

He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.

Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”

“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.

“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”

“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”

You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.

Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”

“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”

“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”

“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.

“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.

“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.

“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”

He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”

With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”

You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.” “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”

Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”

“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”

“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”

You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”

As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.

“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”

“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”

He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”

Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.

“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.

“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”

Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”

“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”

“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.

“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.

“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.

He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”

“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.

He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.

Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.

You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.

When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.

“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”

It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.

It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.

[markosmate]

lady

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au://  Welp lovelies I had promised you a Marko series in February that I started writing while I was manic, then after writing a good five/six chapters I fell into a deep dark hole of depression and didn’t write anything but sad, worthless poetry about a boy I’m in love with who doesn’t love me back :) But now it’s May, a spark of inspiration and happiness has suddenly hit me and I’ve come back to this series to finally deliver it to you!! I hope y’all like it cause I literally stress cried over finishing it three different times :,)

I’d also like to point out that any kind of feedback at all is so so appreciated. Most of my inspiration comes from feeding off of people’s reactions to what I write. So if you enjoy it or have any recommendations or comments at all please please don’t be shy to send me an ask or DM or even comment to let me know :( Thank you and enjoy!!

Part 2

I wasn’t exactly mad about moving, there was nothing holding me in Phoenix that I would be particularly sad about leaving behind. The only thing that struck a nerve was that it was dumped out of nowhere on me. Suddenly Mom had divorced Dad, let him keep everything, and made plans with Grandpa for us to move into his place with him. A little prior warning would have been appreciated, but regardless when we were told it didn’t change the fact that everything we knew was changing. Sam wasn’t happy about it at all, leaving his friends, leaving Dad. Michael... well Michael didn’t really have an opinion. In my view, he was just indifferent. He didn’t really care where the hell we were as long as he had a motorcycle, a job, and some hot chicks to swoon over.

But here we were, packed into Mom’s truck and driving through a town that I’d most likely have memorized like the back of my hand in a good few days. As the three in the car argued over which station to keep on, I turned my head and leaned my forehead on the window of the car. I watched the beach as we drove along the road, and admired the waves hitting against the sand.

I was ready to drift off until we got to Grandpa’s house when a short, exited yell left Mom’s lips. “Oh!” She grinned happily as Sam landed on a station familiar to her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Oh, that’s from my era! Grooving on a Sunday afternoon!” She sung along with the song as Sam threw his head back and groaned in protest. I laughed at her antics, enjoying seeing my Mom acting so carefree and happy. 

“Alright, keep going, keep going.” Mom and Sam agreed with each other at the same time, Mom leaning over to continue skipping through the stations. Finally, the next station was agreed on and my pounding head thanked the universe for the quiet that I hadn’t been able to achieve the entire drive here. “Hey we’re almost there!”

“Ugh,” Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust after taking a deep breath. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his head-rest and pull my face closer to the open window. The pungent smell hit me, and I recognized it immediately, low tide, but it wasn’t bad - anything to do with the beach was calming to me regardless. “What’s that smell?”

“Ah!” Mom breathed in deeply and turned to share a knowing grin with me, “That’s the ocean air!”

I turned to look at the welcoming sign, taking in the colors and faded lettering. “Smells like someone died.” Sam muttered as Mom tutted at him softly. 

“That’s likely.” I muttered to Michael, nudging his head in the direction of the back of the sign, where in big red spray-painted letters sat the phrase “Murder Capitol of the World.”

“Aw guys, I know the last year hasn’t been easy. But I do think you’re really going to enjoy living in Santa Carla.” Mom tried to remain happy about the situation, but a shared glance with Michael after we both read over the sign revealed there wasn’t much he was excited for.

The rest of the drive only increased my excitement. Hippies galore filled the streets, a large amusement park covered most of the boardwalk, and the rest was filled with small shops and food stands. We stopped for awhile so Mom could give some teenagers rummaging through garbage some money to eat and so Michael could unhinge his bike and ask around for job openings, but before I could even think to step out of the car and get a look around we were already heading into the backroads to get to Grandpa’s house.

Grandpa’s house was farther into the plains than expected, but still only a good fifteen to twenty minute drive away from town. Before Mom could ever fully park the car, I had already jumped out and was looking around the property. Michael pulled his bike up next to Mom’s car, and they all took a good few seconds to look around at all the wood carvings and chimes before turning their vehicles off. I took note of the horses grazing in one of the back fields before walking around the front of the truck and seeing a man laying on his back across the front porch steps.

Sam lead the way towards him before Mom cut in front and marched up the steps to squat beside him. “Dad?” She questioned gently. “Dad?” The three of us leaned closer to get a better look.

“Looks like he’s dead.” Michael remarked.

“Like... really dead.” I quipped in, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

“No, no. He’s just a deep sleeper.” She brushed our comments off.

“If he’s dead can we go back to Phoenix?” Sam remarked, earning a snort from me and a sharp look from Mom. 

Suddenly Grandpa sat up, a cocky smirk apparent on his face. “Playing dead. And from what I hear, doing a damn good job of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation before Mom laughed faintly. “Oh, Dad!”

-

That night, Mom decided that it would be good for the four of us to leave the house after a night of unpacking and explore the boardwalk when it’s at its liveliest. I could admit it looked much more enjoyable now that it was dark and a little chilly, the sweaty people that had been occupying it earlier were now less sweaty and more stoned.

Almost as soon as Mom’s car and Michael’s bike were parked, Mom sent us off on our own so she could spend some time staking out a job in one of the family-owned shops. “Do you think she’ll be able to find one?” Sam questioned as the three of us weaved through crowds, trying to find our way to the beach concert. We could certainly hear it, we were just having a bit of trouble actually getting to it.

“One what? A job?” Michael scoffed as if it was hard to believe, still bitter over the fact there was no legal jobs for him to get hired in.

I laughed, elbowing him softly in the side, knowing that this place was exactly his vibe and in time he would most likely come to love living here. Sam was the only one I was actually worried about. “She’ll probably be able to find one. What, with all these missing people, there’s bound to be tons of job openings.”

“You’re telling me. It’s like there’s hundreds of bullet-boards around every corner with dozens of people missing. This place really is the Murder Capital.” Michael remarked as the concert finally came into our line of sight.

“Don’t say that!” Sam pleaded, shoving Michael’s shoulder with his eyebrows knitted tightly.

Michael just held his hand up in surrender and with one last shrug of his shoulders he turned to me. “You checking out the shops? We’ll find you once we get bored.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, turning sharply on my heel and blindly making my way back into the crowd. The concert was loud, sweaty, and crowded, and it wasn’t even my style of music - the last thing I wanted to do was spend my first night there. I figured it would be much more productive if I were to check out all the shops and stands running up and down the entire area, maybe find some new pieces of jewelry, or even a possible summer job opportunity.

Many places caught my eye, and I made a mental note to check them out the next time I had free money to spend, as it wouldn’t be wise for me to make an impulse-buy when I’m so close to being completely broke. Instead a small stand in the middle of the walkway drew me to it. A piercing stand. One person working on someone already sitting on the chair. There was a large wall selection of different studs, and many different kinds of disinfectants lined along the counter.

I walked closer to the wall, admiring all the different designs they had. I’d absolutely love to get a helix or orbital piercing, but I knew it wasn’t the wisest to spend money doing something like that at a small stand on a boardwalk in Santa Carla of all places. I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts when a voice spoke up directly behind me.

“It’s a scam, you know.” I jumped, hand flying to my chest, and whipping around to look at the owner. A teenage boy, my age, maybe a little older, with long curly blond hair and a grin that could have probably wooed me into his bed by the end of the night had he not literally just scared the shit out of me.

I laughed breathlessly, shaking my head. “What is?”

“The piercings. If you need one done, I could do it for you. But they use the guns instead of a needle which will definitely infect if you’re planning on doing a cartilage one.” He explained with a tilt of his head as he turned and began making his way towards the restaurants. I took that as an invite to follow, jogging to catch up and walking next to him.

“You know a lot about piercings?” I tried to make small talk, not wanting him to get away just yet.

He nodded with a confident smirk. “I did my own, and my friends. Someone had to learn.” I laughed a little at his mock-annoyed tone and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear to be doing something. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, holding out his hand. “Marko, by the way.”

“Ivory.” I accepted his hand and we both shook, hard and firm.

“You’re new.” He nodded as if finally understanding something that had been going on inside his own head. “I would’ve noticed you before if you’d been here all along.”

We dropped each other’s hand and I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Nothing rude, you’re just too gorgeous to go unnoticed around here.” Before I could reply, another voice cut in from a few yards away.

“Marko! Marko, man, we’re supposed to meet David in ten!” I looked over to see another punk-looking dude calling out to Marko with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I laughed and look back towards the curly blond. “See you around?”

He nodded in confirmation, sending me one last crooked smile before turning to jog over to his other friend. I turned as well, making my way back into the crowd and away from the middle lane stands. I didn’t make it very far before the body of my youngest brother crashed into my side. I glanced down at him in bewilderment as we used each other to steady ourselves.

“Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be with Michael?” I laughed as he looked as though he’d just had the weirdest conversation of his life.

“Well, I was. Then he saw some girl at the concert and wandered after her so I went to check out the comic store.” He explained, shrugging before letting his eyes wander around once more in search of Michael. I rolled my eyes, of course Michael left Sam behind to go chase after some girl. It didn’t take long to find him, he was only a little further down the stretch of restaurants. He was more towards the end, walking out of the crowd near where the last building - a bar - sat in place.

We walked up behind him, and as soon as I was at his side I followed his eyes to a girl who was walking behind a small child, hand on his shoulder, and steering him in a certain direction. She was pretty - with big, curly hair and a beautiful smile that curled her lips up as her eyes grazed over all the lights of the carousel one last time for the night. I followed her line of sight, trying to place why Michael was following her instead of just walking up and introducing himself, but I immediately realized what the problem was.

She hoisted herself up onto the back of a motorcycle, accepting the help of the blond driver. He had a spiked mullet, dressed in all black, and when he realized Michael was staring at his girl, a cocky kind of smirk crossed his face. His friends parked next him all revved their engines to a start, and I tore my eyes from the platinum blond to see the others. I didn’t manage to catch a good look at two of them, because my eyes immediately looked onto those of the punk from earlier who’d started a conversation with me over pierced ears.

He was already looking at me, and when he realized my attention immediately locked onto him, a predatory look filled the black circles of his eyes and his lips formed into a boyish smirk directed exactly at me. He lifted his hand in a short wave, laughing along with the friend who called him away from me earlier as he shoved Marko’s shoulder in a teasing way. I lifted my hand in a small acknowledging wave back, but was knocked out of my small trance by Sam, who began teasing Michael.

“Come on, she stiffed ya!” Sam laughed harmlessly, gently punching Michael’s shoulder and turning to probably go and find Mom. I broke my gaze away from Marko immediately, turning to follow after Sam and not bothering to look back at all as I heard the bikes pull out and speed off down the road.

“Too bad she left with Mr. Mullet, she was pretty.” I tried to break the tension with Michael, I really didn’t want him to be upset over the lose of the girl, he still had all of Santa Carla’s teenage population of girls to meet.

He cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder into mine. “She really was.”

Once we made it home for the night, I separated from both my brothers and made my way into my own room. It was the smallest of all of ours, but that’s the main reason why I had chose it. It was cozy, and cute. I liked the way it came out once I had finished decorating it.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to those boys on the motorcycles from earlier that night. Marko seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t know whether or not I was brave enough to try to pursue a friendship with his more than intimidating friends. Just as I came to the conclusion that I should just get over myself and approach them, a sharp sting of anxiety wedged itself into my gut and nauseous filled my stomach and rose up in my throat. No. I didn’t need to become friends with those boys, there was something off, something I didn’t need to meddle in.

If I saw them again, I’d avoid eye contact and conversation completely. I was never able to understand my anxiety, but I always listened to it when it struck me.

[sunnysunoo]

Love Letters ; Sim Jake

Pairing: Jake X Reader

warnings: explicit language and cursing

word count: 3k words

genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao

Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.

You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?

note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3

P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up

tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )

Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.

We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,

Moon

__

"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.

You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."

"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.

"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.

__

You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?

Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.

"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.

"So, you like Jake?"

You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.

"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.

Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."

“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”

“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?

With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”

The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.

“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.

“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.

“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”

Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.

Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?

No, he can’t be...right?

Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.

Yeah, maybe it's because of that.

__

Dear Jake,

I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.

It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.

How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)

Love,

Moon

__

"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.

"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"

Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.

Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.

__

"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.

"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."

"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."

Well, shit.

Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.

"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.

'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.

Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.

"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.

How we're you going to give him the letter now?

__

"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.

"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.

As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?

The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.

"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.

"Something on your mind?"

"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.

As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."

You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."

"Very funny." He scoffed.

As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.

Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.

"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.

If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.

"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.

"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.

You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.

"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.

You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.

"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."

Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?

"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.

Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.

You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."

You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.

As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.

"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."

You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.

"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.

He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"

"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.

__

HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(

"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.

Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.

[chudleycanonficfest]

the hippogriffs and the flobberworms

Day 23, Post #2 by @accio-broom

Title: the hippogriffs and the flobberworms Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Arthur & Ron Weasley (platonic) Prompt: slice of life Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Mentions of sex lives and STDs, very cringe-worthy.

Arthur whistles as he roams the ground floor of the Burrow, searching for his youngest son. Ron’s best friend Hermione is due to arrive any day, ready to spend the latter part of the summer holiday with the Weasleys, but there are some things Arthur needs to speak to Ronald about before Miss Granger joins them.

He’s probably left this conversation a little late—Ron turned fourteen a few months ago—but this is the first time the youngest has shown any interest in the opposite sex. With the rather exciting activities coming up for their fourth school year, including a ball, it’s only inevitable that different feelings will start to stir.

Chuckling, Arthur reminisces about the conversations with his other sons. Bill, always cool as a frost salamander, kept his focus on his old Dad without any outward discomfort, even though Arthur made a complete mess as he told Bill about the facts of life. All of Arthur’s words came out in a massive jumble—he couldn’t even use the correct terms for various body parts and used all the wrong euphemisms. Arthur had been trying so hard to be a cool dad that he got himself far too worked up to make any sense. 

His second son, Charlie, was dismissive and didn’t seem interested in the mechanics of making love, which was disappointing given the amount of time Arthur had spent rehearsing, determined to get it right that time. Percy approached the conversation with logic and appropriate questions, discussing it as he would an important Ministry policy before thanking his dad then leaving the room without a backwards glance. In stark contrast, the twins cracked inappropriate jokes and turned the tables on Arthur, making him feel awkward as innuendo after innuendo spewed from their mouths.

Ron will be Arthur’s last chance to do “the talk”. Molly is responsible for dealing with Ginny, and they’ve probably already started. He doesn’t baulk at the female aspect of puberty, having lived with a woman for almost twenty-five years, he’s well versed in the potions and muggle contraptions they need to use, but he thought it only fair that Molly gets a go of this, too. It’s one of the essential parts of being a parent, after all. 

Although Arthur is well-seasoned in explaining the facts of life without going overboard with the detail or using cringe-worthy phrases now (although the twins did teach him a few new idioms), he has decided to step away from the ‘cool’ dad persona and go full-on over the top this time. 

He could make this easy for Ron, but why would Arthur want to spoil his own fun?

A flash of red hair leaving the broom shed catches his attention out of the kitchen window, and Arthur’s grin widens. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, but there is a light breeze, keeping the air fresh and cool. It’s the sort of day that would lead to him fishing in the lake at the bottom of the garden, but he has a task at hand that he needs to deal with first. 

Maybe there’ll be time for him to get his rod out later.

Pouring two glasses of lemonade from the jug Molly has left on the side, Arthur uses a cooling charm on them then steps out from the backdoor and onto the patio. 

“Ron,” he calls, smiling as his son turns his head around faster than a niffler chasing gold, looking like Arthur has caught Ron doing something that he shouldn’t. Probably skiving from the long list of chores Molly gave him this morning. “Come up and have a chat with your old Dad.”

Arthur eases himself into the bench under the wisteria with a groan. Although he isn’t all that old, having seven children and living through a war takes its toll on a guy’s body. Now, every joint clicks and complains every time he moves. Forget getting somewhere in a hurry; slow and steady is now the way to go.

Ron settles in the seat next to him. 

“What’s up, Dad?” he asks, smiling at Arthur. He takes the offered drink, gulping almost half of it in one go before letting out a loud, satisfied sigh.

“Hermione is coming to stay with us before we go to the World Cup, I hear? But not Harry?”

Ears turning pink, Ron turns his head to look out at the garden. “Y-yeah. We’re going to collect Harry in a few days, remember?”

“Oh, yes. I’m very excited to be visiting the Muggles. Will they tell me about eckeltricity? Should I take my battery collection?”

Ron laughs. “I don’t think the Dursleys will be too impressed with batteries, Dad. They use them every day.”

“Shame.” Arthur sighs, then turns his eyes to gaze the same way as Ron’s. “So, Hermione is a girl.”

“Er, yes, I guess so.”

“A girl you’re attracted to?” Arthur glances at Ron, whose face has turned as white as a ghost.

Ron reacts with a knee-jerk response, but the look on his face indicates that he’s not telling the whole truth. “No!”

“Are you sure? You and her have gotten close lately. Mum and I like her.” Arthur waits a moment for Ron to take back his first response, then tuts when he stays quiet. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone you do like soon. Anyway, as you already know, she’ll be staying in Ginny’s room with your sister, and I’m sure you’re clear on the rules of the house. Your Mum does not want any sneaking around or late-night visits.”

Arthur doesn’t hold the same views as his wife. Sure, he doesn’t want the kids to be sleeping in each other’s beds, but he remembers the conversations he and his friends had during the early hours of the morning when he was their age. If the children wanted to get up to something, Arthur would rather it happen under their roof where they’re safe than have them take unnecessary risks. He and Molly were young once, too, although it feels like a lifetime ago now.

“I know, Dad.”

“Good. And so you know, if you ever find yourself feeling conflicted or wanting some advice on how to ask a lady out, you can always come to me. Because being a teenage lad is a very confusing time, and the magic will heighten this, as well as the fact that you live in proximity to some charming young women. You might not feel it right now, but you’re on the precipice of being a man. Your voice has started breaking. Sure, it’s a little later than the others, but I’m sure that’s nothing to worry about. Everyone develops at their own pace, after all. Pretty soon, you’ll have hairs sprouting all over the place, even in places you wouldn’t expect it. I can’t remember when all of this started happening for me, but it was around your age. And don’t get me started on the wet dreams…”

“Merlin,” Ron sighs, now squirming in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. When Arthur checks again, his youngest is looking into the depths of his glass as if considering whether he could drown himself in there.

“Sex is healthy, son, especially if it’s with someone that you admire and love, whether that be a girl or a boy, Your mum and I don’t mind as long as you’re happy. And if you find the right person, then it can be amazing.”

A low groan emits from Ron’s mouth as he pushes himself further down the bench, attempting to put some distance between him and Arthur. 

“Please stop talking,” he pleads with bright red cheeks.

“Having a good sex life is nothing to be ashamed of, let me tell you. The seven of you weren’t delivered by the hippogriffs, after all. Not that we only have sex to procreate. Having you kids out of the house has done wonders for our love life. 

“While we’re on the subject, if you can’t get a partner, then there’s nothing wrong with taking matters into your own hand. Masturbation is very beneficial, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s important to explore your own body and learn the kind of things you like so that you can recreate those moments with a partner. I can tell you some useful charms if you need them—ones for when you’re with someone, and others for when you’re alone. Of course, there are some spells that are vital for you to learn. Safety is sexy, and you don’t want any little accidents happening.”

Ron runs his hand over his face as if trying to erase his dismay. “Dad. Please stop. I know all of this already. Not that I wa-I mean, do that sort of stuff.” 

He crosses his legs with a gulp, and Arthur feels a rush of joy. He’s succeeded in making his youngest son feel as awkward as possible. You have to take delight in the smallest of moments, especially the older you get. 

“Who told you?”

“I have five brothers and live in a dorm with four other boys. Also, Flitwick taught us the contraceptive charm last year.” Ron is still focused on his glass, looking like he wants to be a million miles away.

“Oh, right. ”

An irrational surge of disappointment crashes over Arthur. He should have realised that kids are far more advanced and talk much more than they did in his day. He should have bit the bludger earlier and nabbed him last summer.

“Well,” Arthur continues anyway, determined to see this through, “contraceptive charms aren’t the only things you need to learn. You need to ensure you protect yourself from Sexually Transmitted Diseases, or STDs, as well. Some of these can make you a little itchy, but others can be dangerous. You should go and see Madam Pomfrey if you think you might have one. Of course, you could always get some muggle con-domes. Fantastic little invention they are. Rather than trying to remember a load of different spells while you’re in the heat of passion, you can whack on a rubber and get to it.”

He doesn’t allow Ron’s small squeak to put him off his speech, now he’s in full flow again. “Talking about getting to it. Consent is important. When you decide to take that step, or even before when you snog someone, you need to make sure they want to do it too. Every step of the way. If they say no, you stop right away, even if they said yes only a minute previously. You must understand that. Never force yourself on someone, especially if they are drunk or otherwise intoxicated. If they can’t say yes, it’s a no-go. Got it?”

“I-I d-do,” Ron stutters, his voice strained under the embarrassment of the situation. “C-Can I go now?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But don’t forget that I’m here if you need anything, son. Even if you think it might get you into trouble. And look after Hermione, even if your feelings for her are only platonic. I admire the way you, her and Harry have formed a little group. The three of you are good for each other.”

Arthur reclines on the bench and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh as the sun warms his face. There’s no point getting one’s wand in a knot over spilt potion. He still managed to get Ron squirming like a flobberworm, so it was mostly a successful mission.

The bench shifts as Ron rises to his feet. He finishes his drink with a gulp and sets the glass down on the floor before shuffling away.

“Dad?” a small voice asks.

When Arthur opens his eyes, he spots Ron towering over him. When did he get so lanky? Ron is going to be the tallest of the family, for sure. There’s a smile on his face, though he still can’t meet his Dad’s gaze.

“Yeah, Son?” Arthur asks, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Thanks for trying.”

Ron shrugs, then wanders back down the garden, his gangly frame hunched over. Arthur marvels at Ron’s response. You think you fully understand your children, and then they do something that knocks you off your broom. But Ron is a decent lad, and Arthur knows he will go far, like the rest of them.

With a happy sigh, he leans back and closes his eyes again. He’s done an okay job at this parenting thing. As long as none of them gets arrested or tries to break into Gringotts, he can die a happy man.

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

part 012/015 “something new”

previous part // next part

masterlist

word count 3.2k

an: this was the dress inspiration and tux look referenced at one point in this part. btw this was finished awhile ago and i forgot to post it? :(

The world post-blip saw a lot of changes. And with you being out of the loop already, there were some important changes you wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.

Natasha became the backbone of the Avengers (though some including you would argue she always had been.) She was the one who stayed at the Compound and worked through the intel she received from the team who was not only spread out over the world, but in space. Yeah you were still getting used to that too.

Steve wasn’t in the game anymore. Not as much, really. He was still Captain America (he’d always be Captain America), but he took a more direct approach with helping people. The last you knew he was running a help group in the city for those who needed the support.

Tony did something that changed your life along with his. He started his own family. A few months after the snap, he was walking by your side through Central Park when he broke the news to you that Pepper and him were going through with the weeding in two weeks. You were shocked, but happy of course.

“We just don’t want to wait anymore,” Tony told you. “Can’t ask her to wait forever on me.”

It was beautiful. Like you pointed out before, Tony liked to be dramatic. But you couldn’t help but shed a tear at seeing your new sister-in-law come down the aisle. Their vows were very much themselves, shared jokes that only they understood (something about 12% Tony told her at the altar.) The only downside to their wedding was going stag, and also having to see Steve there.

Ever since you were hit with the memories of what happened the night of your parents crash, you had these moments of, for lack of a better phrase, pure unfiltered anger. Though those moments were far and few now that you were back to a “normal” life (as normal as this could be) you still found yourself zoning out on occasion. And that wasn’t safe. You couldn’t help but swirl the flute of champagne around as your mind drifted off to your last episode.

It was night time, on a full moon no less. The air had a slight chill to it, enough to where you could see the hot breath of air released from your victim. They ran, jumping over the foliage that covered the ground. They were frantic, which made this easier for you. You moved slowly as they tripped over a branch, sliding across the cold ground as you towered over them. The woman cried out, crawling over the leaves scattered over the ground. She didn’t turn to face you until you came to a stop at her feet. You didn’t even recognize the tears in her eyes.

“Пожалуйста,” (Please) she begged you. Your dead set eyes didn’t budge as she pushed herself up to a seated position. “Почему вы это делаете?” (Why are you doing this?)

You clenched your fist by your side, the anger coming up to a boil. “Ты меня не помнишь?” (You don’t remember me?) She shook her head and your eye twitched. You crouched down to look her in the eye and tilted your head. “Ты сказал мне, что поможешь мне почувствовать себя лучше ... И что моя семья идет за мной.” (You told me you’d help me feel better.. And that my family was coming for me.)

Something registered over her face. Fear. Recognition. It all laced together in a paled look on her face.

You stood again as she began to cry. You heard her pleas as you moved behind her, pulling the rope from your hip. Your gloved hands wrapped both ends over your knuckle so it was tight, and in a snap pulled it over her neck. She gasped and writhed under the pressure, but you never once flinched. You never felt her body stop, or her breaths for that matter, and didn’t snap out of it until you were in the shower. You were just standing under the water, which was laced with red, mumbling to yourself.

“I hope you remember them.”

A hand came down on your shoulder. You did your best to hide your jump, but Tony noticed. He didn’t say anything, but he did see it. He gave you a squeeze and you reached your free hand up to place over it. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you told him. You could see Pepper through the dancing crowd, and you smiled a bit. “You should be dancing with your wife.”

“And you should be enjoying yourself,” Tony replied.

“I will when you do,” you poked at him. He gave your hand a kiss before disappearing past the bodies. You rubbed at your neck and set your drink down at the table before playing with the fabric of your dress. The one slit up your leg was a good choice on Natasha’s part. But it all felt too stuffy. Beautiful lilac color, but just a little too tight around your--

“Didn’t come with anyone?” an all too familiar voice asked you. You flattened the fabric back down and let out a little sigh.

“I don’t really.. Know anyone who wasn’t already coming,” you said. Steve stood before you in a dark suit and lacked the black striped tie he was wearing earlier. He nodded but you shrugged. “I just met Wong though. He’s nice.”

“Yeah he is,” Steve replied. You noticed the song change, something a little slower paced. The lights dimmed down a bit and you shifted a bit in your seat. “Would you like to dance?”

You thought it over for a moment. It seemed like the dance floor was packed, barely anyone was left amongst the tables, and you rubbed your arm. “I don’t really know how to..”

There was a hint of a smile, enough to make your stomach twist, and he offered his hand to you. “Lucky for you I’m a professional.”

You bit back a smile, and slowly placed your hand in his. Steve helped you stand and he led you out to the floor. There was enough space for the two of you, and he turned back to face you. The hand that engulfed yours tightened a bit, his fingers gently grazed over the back of your hand. Your other hand floated over his arm and rested on his shoulder, and you felt his other hand on your waist.

Steve led, taking a step to the side and you followed. You were closer than you would have preferred, but with a glance around the room the lack of space seemed standard. You felt like you were gliding across the floor and you looked back at your partner. “I had no idea you had such a talent.”

“Ah well I had promised Nat I would be prepared the next time I asked someone to dance,” he explained. Steve suddenly removed his hand from your waist and twirled you around. When you met his gaze again you had a raised brow, and when he pulled you back into him you laughed a bit.

“Kudos to her then,” you said barely above a whisper. You felt his fingers seem to rub against your side, and then he spoke softly.

“I would do anything for my best gal.”

There were some more changes that quickly followed within that year.

Tony really started a family. Pepper gave birth to the cutest little girl, and they ended up naming her Morgan. Who had known such a small thing could make you feel so much? You fell in love with her as soon as Tony placed her in your arms. He was teary eyed as he reached out and stroked his finger over her chubby cheek.

You knew he would do anything for this girl. And you were right behind him on that.

It was actually at her first birthday party (though this was more a party for the adults then her) was the next time you saw Steve and Natasha. Her hair was grown out, the fiery red tint mixing in with the previous white dye job. You could see the bags under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders, but after a few drinks she was much more relaxed. Pepper had put Morgan down for a nap, which left Tony, Nat, and you all mingling in a circle while Steve kept his distance.

You were grateful not to have eyes on the back of your head, but you could feel Steve’s burning into you. Tony seemingly got distracted by Pepper, excusing himself from the small and intimate group to aid his wife. Natasha glanced at you from the corner of her eye, taking a sip of the beer in her hand. “So what are you doing nowadays?”

“Besides the occasional diaper change?.. Not much. It’s quiet out here.”

It was true. Tony and Pepper relocated to a cabin outside of the city and the hustle and bustle. You loved Tony, loved being around them both, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Or like a bother even. This was Tony’s time to connect to his new family, and you couldn’t help but feel you were intruding. While your thoughts wandered off, Natasha nodded a bit, resting her closest arm to you on the back of the couch, shifting a bit to face you better. “If you wanted.. I could always use your help back at the Compound.”

You glanced back the way Tony had disappeared back into their home. You knew by the way you described it that it was his, not yours, and slowly you nodded. Before you spoke you could see Steve almost smile a bit to himself before turning his back to you. “I.. I think that would be good.”

It’s been four years since the Snap. That was really all the biggest changes you had experienced or felt you needed to catch people up on. Breaking the news to Tony that you were moving back to New York and going back to work with Natasha was a bitter pill for him to swallow, but you reassured him you’d be fine. You needed something to focus your mind on, and he understood for the most part. There was a moment though that made you nearly back out, and Tony had definitely caught it that time.

Something had played on tv that night as you helped Tony wash the dinner dishes. Morgan should’ve been in bed by then, Pepper probably waiting for Tony to join her, but Tony truly hadn’t adjusted to using normal appliances. He set off the faucet spray three times, which was two less than last week, so you took over washing duties while he dried. You had only caught a notion of what was being said on the television, but the news anchor speaking made you stop. Tony was chatting next to you, but you turned around to look at the television, only to see the flash of the story playing.

There was a body found in the woods in Russia of a woman in her mid fifties, who was strangled to death with what was identified as rope found nearby. The area was clean of any evidence, especially given how long the body was out there before hunting season started and a couple happened upon it, but it could be linked to three other murders reported on in the last 6 years. You don’t know what happened, but Tony placing his hand on your shoulder was what set you off.

The emptiness that would swallow your mind fell upon you like a curtain closing on a play. Tony would later tell you that the light in your eyes disappeared, and it was as if you didn’t know him. He said that you had very successfully removed his hand from you and shoved him back in the cabinets, rattling the dishes inside. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but it was enough to stun him for a few moments and give you time to desperately escape.

Tony said it took him a few moments to regain his composure, but the worry he felt propelled him out the cabin and out of earshot of Pepper’s calls for him. He wasn’t far behind you, and his calls of your name resulted in nothing but quick looks back at him, but one thing was clear to him: you weren’t okay. The next thing you remembered was something hitting your shoulder in a small jolt, which later Tony confirmed was a shock from his watch (still in testing), and him hovering over you in the darkness.

It was enough to make him concerned about you going through with your decision to rejoin Natasha. But for you it was enough to solidify your decision.

“Tony I don’t want to.. Do that around Morgan,” you whispered to him, careful with your words. “Besides you need this time with them. And I’m sure Pepper needs you more right now.”

“I can’t knowingly let you leave without even knowing what the hell is going on with you,” Tony whispered yelled at you. “You’ve avoided this conversation for two weeks, can’t you tell me what’s going on?”

You narrowed your glare at him but he only matched you. After a few seconds you grumbled in surrender and rested the last piece of clothing you were folding and walked towards the back door. Tony carefully placed Morgan into the low crib before following you outside. You faced the lake, the breeze pushing past you and into the house  in a cool breeze, and Tony came up by your side and rested his hip against the railing.

“Talk to me,” he urged you. You sighed and finally faced him, resting your hip as well on the railing.

“After learning the truth I’ve been having these.. Episodes,” you told him. “It’s like a blanket falls over me and I can’t find my way out of it until something else pulls it off. And by that time I’m not where I remember I was. Time has passed, something has happened.”

“How many times has this happened?”

“Last time made five,” you admitted guiltily. “I don’t know what causes it, or how to stop it.. But being busy, keeping my mind on track, seems to help the most.”

Tony thought your words over, before nodding to himself and looking out to the lake. You followed his lead and looked back out to the setting sun, the breeze and chirps of birds lulling the silence, before Tony spoke again.

“If you go you have to check in with me,” Tony compromised. “I’m going to make sure FRIDAY sends me updates on your brain waves, try and figure out what triggers it if it happens again.”

You smiled to yourself and linked your arm through his and came to rest your head against his shoulder. “You’re truly the best brother I could’ve asked for.”

Tony let out a pfft noise, before lifting his arm to wrap around your shoulder. He placed a chaste kiss to your forehead as you both stared out at the lake. “We’ll get through this together.”

Tony wouldn’t admit this to anyone, especially you, but after you departed for the city he made a house call a few days later. Tony stood before the apartment door unsure if this was the best idea, and ready to flee if no one came in 10 more seconds. But when he heard the footsteps on the other side he let out a sigh and mumbled to himself. “This is for her sake Tony.”

The door opened to reveal his former friend. Steve Rogers looked nearly the same as the last time he saw him at Morgan’s party (which he was only invited to because of Pepper and Natasha.) Full beard, tired eyes, and a surprised expression. “Tony?”

Tony motioned between the two of them with the glasses he pulled off while waiting. “We need to talk.”

Steve took a moment to think it over before nodding and stepping aside for Tony to enter. Tony carefully took a step in, taking in the environment and really noticing how.. Empty it all felt. Steve closed and latched the door behind his guest, which made Tony look back at him. “Should maybe leave that unlock in case anything happens.”

“I don’t think that would be necessary,” Steve replied. But either way he unlocked the latch before looking back at Tony. “But if it makes you more comfortable.”

“It was more for you then for me,” Tony replied back. Steve smiled a bit and nodded, and Tony tapped his hand with his glasses. “Gotta say the place hasn’t come along that much since you showed Pepper the photos.”

“You saw those?” Steve asked and Tony shrugged. Steve looked around and sighed a bit. “Was never planning on settling down here, but things change.”

Tony wondered if the sentiment was in regards to his sister. More than likely it was but he chose to ignore it. He didn’t even want to think about the unsettling feeling he had when he thought about how Steve handled things all those years ago. “I wanted to come and talk to you about something.. Personal.”

Steve raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no,” Tony sighed. He sat himself down on the couch in Steve’s plainly decorated living room, and unbuttoned his jacket in the process. “Not sure if you are aware given you aren’t in the game anymore, but Natasha invited my sister back to the Compound.. And she said yes.”

“Natasha may have mentioned it,” Steve carefully said.

“Figured as much, “ Tony replied. “Which is great, fine with me. I know she’s been feeling stuck recently.. But something happened a couple weeks ago.”

Steve’s posture changed and it unsettled Tony. But he had to punish that aside for now. This wasn’t about him and his feelings. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Tony answered in almost a whisper. Steve’s face visibly fell in a frown and concern. “She’s apparently been experiencing black outs. Aggression. I don’t know how to help her from so far away.. So I came to ask a favor.”

Steve nodded and took a step closer. “Whatever you need Tony.”

“Check in on her will you? But not in a prying way so she thinks I set you up to it.. Be a friend, “ Tony asked. Steve nodded and Tony stood, smoothing his clothes again. “Just please.. Let me know if something happens.”

“I promise,” Steve told him. He led Tony back to the door, opening it for him to exit. But Tony stopped after making it out to the hallway and turned back around pointing a finger at Steve’s chest.

“So help me Rogers.. Don’t go and mess with her feelings again or I will come here and finish what we started in Siberia.”

Steve didn’t even get a chance to respond before Tony slid his glasses back on and disappeared back towards the stairs. Instead Steve shut his door and stood there for a moment to think to himself. He was going to make sure he made it up not only to Tony, but to you. 

This would be the start of something new.

- - - - - - - - - -

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[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Did you hear about the Fraktz haunting in New South Wales (1995ish)?

It has gotten a little folklore-y and probably sensationalised over the years, but the basic premise is that Dina and Hans Fraktz were one of those overly helpful religious types, and were raising their three kids (Curtis - 11, Angie -8/9?, Louisa-May - 3) just about the same.

They lived in Albury, NSW which is in Australia in a dept of housing place, not much room but they made do and were always grateful to god about it. Enough that, as the story goes, it catches the attention of some demonic entities.

Belphorn bets that Lucifer can't corrupt the whole family in under a year, and of course the overachiever that he is, the head of hell says 'Hold my beer mate' and goes to work.

It starts as every horror movie starts, weird noises, bad dreams, smell of decay, something in the corner of their eye, etc. Louisa-May is the most sensitive, and of course, gets taken first after promising something to her 'imaginary friend'.

The paediatrician isn't sure what to do when her frantic parents present at the clinic with a toddler that keeps cackling maniacally and contorting in ways bodies shouldn't. They rationalise it's probably ehhlers-danlos sydrome or a varient, and this needs further observation. A referral for a specialist is provided, and that's that apparently.

Of course with a 'sick' child, the stress and tension in the house is high. Dina and Hanz are having whispered not-arguments so the kids won't hear, and Hanz pretends to ignore that Dina's gone back to smoking ten a day to keep herself calm. In the same way she turns a blind eye to his fermented grape juice dinners... and breakfasts.

Curtis shows the stress by acting out at school, getting detentions frequently and just skirting away from suspension by technicality alone. His friends distance themselves, he has no energy for footy anymore, and he can barely concentrate because something is always just behind him. He screams himself awake, begging it to just leave him alone, he'd do anything to just be left alone.

"Anything?" the shadow asks one night in late June, detaching from the wall. There's a few variations of the pact that the demon makes, but they all boil down to 'you can't be scared of us, if you're one of us' and Curtis is so tired he accepts.

The next morning Curtis is muttering in ancient sumerian under his breath, with bloodshot eyes and a strange echo to his voice.

Hanz speaks with their local minister about an exorcism, or some sort of spiritual guidance. A bake-sale to assist in medical care is organised, and a prayer night held for the two Fraktz children.

Nothing seems to change. Dina can only turn the crucifixes in the house rightside up so many time a day, and starts to just walk past them now. Who cares anymore?

Morning and Evening prayers go by the wayside, and even saying Grace falls out of fashion because its horrifying to hear it babbled back in dead languages, or one of your children shrieking at the holy words burning her ears...

By September, Dina's exhausted. Something's scurrying in the walls at night and she knows its not rats, it can't be. She checks on Curtis and Louisa-May to make sure it's not either of them climbing the walls again.

Hanz won't get up anymore, so she tends to wander the house with a flashlight trying to find the noise, and ignoring the lingering sensation of something breathing on her neck. She ignores it, because their minister said acknowledgement gives it power.

Something has written an ominous message across her kitchen wall in what is either blood or thick jelly, and that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Dina bursts into tears and starts yelling for whatever was doing this to get the FUCK out of HER HOUsE because she JUST WASHED THAT WALL and WHO DID IT THINK IT WAS to go doing something like that?

Something knocks a few jars over, and four slash marks appear on the bench. Dina's scared but still angry, she screams at the air, turning in every direction. "What do you want? Tell me, and I'll do it, just leave us alone!"

By the time Hanz stumbled into the kitchen, swaying and dizzy from his skinfull, Dina wasn't there anymore. Well, at least, her body was.

Hanz would tell his neighbour, the minister and his church group about finding Dina walking on the ceiling and singing an old lullaby to the sleeping Louisa-May in her arms. She reportedly screams at him when he asks what in god's name is she doing?

Terrified, Angie asks her father if she can go stay with her aunty (Meryl) in Woodonga, just a town over. Hanz readily agrees, and drives her there himself, before again seeking assistance from the church.

The minister, clearly not ever having been prepared for such things when he'd accepted the small town position, was at a loss and offered platitudes. Using comparisons to Job to try and help Hanz feel that his faith was merely being tested, and not that God had abandoned him...

For the first time in his life, Hanz began to doubt in the power of the Lord. He left a few journal entries around October 1995, many of which contained the phrases "I feel like I'm going mad" and "I know I'm not crazy, but it feels like I am", as things spiralled out of control.

The main barrier to accessing help, is that Dina, Curtis and Louisa-May were perfectly capacble of acting like themselves when people came around. So Hanz came off as having some sort of mental health episode, and the minute they left, things deteriorated again.

At his wit's end, Hanz locked himself in his bedroom and begged the lord for help. Sobbing and pleading, clenching his hands so tightly in place that his nails pierced the soft flesh between his fingers and the crucifix imprinted on his palms.

It was not entirely clear what happened after this point, as the tales all like to make interesting claims but the key point is there were no actual witnesses, except Hanz and the already 'taken'. But by the next morning Hanz had been subsumbed by the entity as well.

Despite being with her aunty, Angie continued to have nightmares that she would shriek herself awake from, well into late November. Her aunt and two adult cousins would take turns reading to her, distracting her, and reminding Angie about Christmas coming up soon so she had something to look forwards to.

They also took turns sleeping on the floor by her little bed in the guest room, so that there was always someone to point out there was 'nothing there and nothing can hurt you' when Angie woke up distressed. [Her older cousin Deliah has a book about the ordeal, and I think it might be in e-reader, but you can google it if you want.]

So Christmas rolls around, and excitement for Santa overlays even the deepest fear of shadows, which seems to breathe some life back into little Angie. Her aunt is relieved, but is still fighting to get some in-home supports for her brother, his wife and their other two children; she knows something's wrong, but suspects it might be something in the old council pipes...

Angie struggles to keep her eyes open as the countdown begins, and just managed a solitary enthused 'tooooooooot' from her party blower before falling asleep on the couch against her other cousin, Javin. The adults laugh uproariously and take photos, for when she's old enough to be embarrassed by such things.

Oddly enough, the new year seems to have snapped the rest of the family out of their funk, as if 1996 has a power all of its own. Things seem to slip back into place as if people had not been puppeted by a demonic entity for nearly 12 months...

Down in hell Lucifer was fuming and Belphorn was far too smug.

But what could be said about the bet? Lucifer was bound to lose, because he didn't possess all the Fraktz.

[swaps55]

Eulogia

With MELE imminent, sharing a scene I wrote a long time ago, in which Kaidan Alenko mourns Ashley Williams after Virmire, and discovers he isn’t mourning alone. 

From here. 

~

The cargo bay was quiet when the elevator doors opened. Most of the crew had dispersed to the Citadel, leaving Kaidan mercifully alone in the cavernous space. Slowly he made his way towards the lockers, the scar tissue and healing sinews in his abdomen like a knot that someone had doused with gasoline and set on fire.

But still healing.  

(This is it. This is how I’m going to die.)

Kaidan exhaled.

If he closed his eyes he could still see the numbers in his HUD, always hovering right above zero, a perpetuating terminus never quite reached, never quite avoided.

When he reached the lockers he stopped, hand halfway to the one marked, Williams, A.

If he went by the book this should be Gladstone’s job. There was no reason it shouldn’t be Gladstone’s job.

(You know it’s the right choice.)

But it wasn’t Gladstone’s job.

The click of the locker door echoed loud enough that he flinched before drawing in a deep breath and pulling it all the way open. She hadn’t lied about her uniforms. Every shirt hung crisp and straight on its hanger, in sharp contrast to the chaotic pile of belongings tossed heedlessly on the ground below it. The pile was so impressive he was actually afraid to take anything out, for fear it would cause an outright avalanche. In spite of himself he shook his head and smiled a little.

“Somehow this is exactly what I expected from you,” he said under his breath. He heard a creak behind him and whipped his head around, heart rate thudding as though he expected to find her peering over his shoulder, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. A flush crept up the back of his neck.

Of course there was nothing. Ashley was dead.

His gripped the locker door until his knuckles whitened, leaned his forehead briefly against it. The metal felt cool and hard against his skin. He swallowed once. Twice.  

Eventually he straightened with a sigh, tugging at his uniform and rolling his shoulder, as though he could somehow shake Ashley off like working out a crick in his neck.  By the time his fingers brushed the cloth of her fatigues their subtle quiver had been swallowed up by the hard-earned discipline he’d practiced so diligently ever since Jump Zero.

(Kaidan Alenko. Always looking for the sure thing. Everything needs to be perfectly defined and spelled out for you, doesn’t it? Sometimes the unknown can be a little exciting, too.)

A static spark stung his finger as he emptied the hangers. He jerked his hand back, muttering, used to the burn, never the timing. Slowly he reached back in, painstakingly folding each shirt with precision he hadn’t employed since Basic.

(You find a wrinkle in my uniform and I’ll clean your pistol for a month.)

He made each crease razor sharp. Not a wrinkle to be found.

Once the clothing had been stored, he began taking apart the pile she had accumulated in her locker. Datapads with poetry. She liked Cummings and Yeats, Plath and Elizabeth Bishop. He remembered Joker saying something about Heinlein. Kaidan hadn’t intended to look through them, but shortly he found himself cross-legged on the floor, skimming through lines and verses. It was easy to tell her favorites – she’d annotated them heavily. Underlined phrases, personal reflections. In some cases she’d made notes that he didn’t understand, such as the one beside a line from a poem by Elizabeth Browning that simply read, Josh, and in parenthesis (the little shit).

She also had a copy of the Bible, which gave him pause. It wasn’t a datapad either but an actual book, pages dog-eared, corners bent and turned down, small makeshift bookmarks such as scraps of paper, paper clips, even a hair tie, sticking out at all angles. Like the datapads it was covered in notes, but all of these handwritten, in scripts of multiple hands. Some tiny and neat, others broad and flowing. Though he didn’t think he’d ever seen a sample of Ashley’s handwriting he immediately found one he thought had to be hers – small but hurried, with the occasional loopy flourish. It tended to start out neat, but quickly deteriorated when her hand couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, until it was nearly illegible.

The inside cover contained four handwritten paragraphs, each in a different script that he recognized from the subsequent pages. Each a note from parent to child, passing the heirloom on with messages of faith and love. Four generations of Williams, right there on one page.

Kaidan ran his fingers across the script, tracing the shallow grooves the pen made against the paper. General David Williams, of Shanxi infamy, bequeathing it to his son Matthew Williams, with a note.

Our faith is our legacy. We keep to it and carry on, no matter the cost. And when that task is difficult, remember those who’ve walked a harder road with lesser reward. We are blessed. I am blessed. Because I have you.

Serviceman Williams then wrote to his daughter, There’s a great wide universe out there waiting for you. I hope you explore it to the fullest. If you ever get lost, look here and see if you can’t find your way. Remember, kiddo. Ad aspera per astra.

Kaidan’s hands loosened, allowing the book’s spine to droop. A few pages whispered past his thumb. The hair tie bookmark fell out, ghosting to the floor without fanfare.

He snatched it up with a hot flash of guilt and held it aloft. What page did it come from? What place had he lost? How important had it been?

He didn’t know.

There was so much he didn’t know. So much he’d never learn.

He stared at the hair tie. Nothing more than a simple strip of dark blue elastic, still twined with a few strands of long, dark brown hair. She probably had a few dozen just like it. She’d worn two in her hair, at all times. One to pull it back into a ponytail, one to wrap around the thick twist of her bun and secure it in place. Usually she kept a third around her wrist, just for emergencies.

But they were never enough to hold back those few stubborn, errant strands that inevitably pulled free to waft about her face.

Moisture burned the corner of his eyes. His fingers curled around the small token, and he put his newly formed fist to his mouth to stifle the sound brewing in his throat. One choked sob got through before he swallowed the rest back, chest aching from the effort. He wicked a thumb across his eyes, hastily tucked the hair tie back between the pages and set the book aside.

This wasn’t his. The grief and memories trapped within the Bible’s covers were for her family, not for him.

But it shouldn’t be for anyone. It should be his things exposed to the harsh light of the cargo bay, meticulously sorted and stored, itemized on a manifest and marked for shipping back to Vancouver, care of Marc and Lora Alenko.

His throat tightened, hitching breath loud against the silent backdrop of the cargo bay. Not even the sound of the engines to provide some white noise.

Nothing like this would be found among his own belongings. He spoke to his folks a couple of times a year. Hadn’t been back to Vancouver in almost three. When he did it tended to be strained small talk and careful avoidance of anything to do with the mutated eezo nodes lurking under his skin. He’d actually thought running off to the Alliance might help. Follow in his father’s footstep. Give them something in common. That, of course, and he’d had nowhere else to go.

Would his own family have mourned him the way Ashley Williams’ would mourn her?

Would she?

Stop.

He raked a hand through his hair, fingers eventually coming to rest against his forehead. His head felt heavy. Too heavy to hold up, like a lead weight.

(They’re more important. We’re as good as dead up here anyway.)

He wondered who would inherit the Bible now that Ashley was gone. One of her sisters, maybe. Sisters who probably had yet to learn about what had happened down on Virmire.

(Kaidan, what the hell are you doing?)

(This bomb is going off! No matter what.)

No matter what. 0.00. He’d been ready for it. Ready for anything. Except Shepard’s hand, grabbing him by the arm.

Further down in the pile he found smaller items. Toiletries. A stuffed hanar, of all things. A bottle of liquor she must have picked up on Noveria.

(Just for the record, I’d look damn good in a dress.)

He swallowed against a lump in his throat, chest constricting. He could see her so clearly, standing at the railing in Port Hanshan, alternating between slouching and gripping the rail with her hands and leaning back on her heels.

(I’m not most people.)

No. She hadn’t been.

He found some packing material for the liquor. It was scotch, an asari brand, maybe purchased to share with Liara. Why it hadn’t been drunk he couldn’t say. Maybe she just ran out of time.  

Next was a holo album containing a few photos. People he didn’t recognize. A woman that looked too much like her not to be her mother. A young girl with a grin he recognized from those brief moments in the comm room. Before…

Stop!

Kaidan put the holo aside, then rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Took a deep breath in. Let it out slow. Clamped his eyes shut. For a moment, everything shook. His hands. The air in his lungs. His skin felt hot, but prickled with gooseflesh.  

Breathe in. Breathe out.  

Eventually he opened his eyes. Went back to the pile. Finish it, marine. Don’t leave her hanging.

In all her possessions were scant, just what she’d been able to obtain or accumulate since they’d picked her up on Eden Prime. In fact, how the Bible and holo album had even managed to catch up with her struck him as a bit of a mystery.

But when he got to the bottom of the pile his hand froze, mouth dry as a shock of white hot cold strummed the length of his spine, numbness dulling his fingers until they felt thick and clumsy.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, she’d died in her combat gear. Not her fatigues. Of course they would be here.

This time no amount of discipline could overcome his shaking hands as he picked one up and turned it over in his palms.

A neon green boot with matching laces, so bright they nearly glowed in the dim light of the cargo bay.

His gut clenched, chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, the edges of his vision blurring until something hot and wet spilled over onto his cheeks.

(Come on.)

(Whoa, where are we going? Anderson said to wait here.)

(Come on, LT. Think we’ll ever get to poke around here again? Live a little.)

Only he hadn’t. She’d been right there. Right there. And he hadn’t.  

(Tell me you haven’t thought about this.)

(Thinking’s not the same as doing. Maybe, once all this is behind us…)

He dropped the boot, back slamming against the lockers as he buried his head in his hands, the grief that he’d stored down deep in his chest ever since that timer reached zero breaching the damn in a flood of hot tears. He wept himself hollow, hot, swollen and aching, exhaustion creeping in until he felt it laying heavily over his skin, behind his eyes, in the pit of his stomach. Then he just sat silent, eyes red and heavy, arms resting on his knees.

A hulking shape appeared above him. Had he not felt so drained he might have cared more about discovering he hadn’t been alone after all. But when Wrex’s red, horny crest came into view he met the krogan’s fierce stare without shame. Whatever the krogan had to say, he was beyond giving a damn.

“She was a warrior worth mourning,” Wrex said.

Kaidan straightened his posture with mild surprise, but said nothing.

“Shepard chose his companions well. Even those I at first didn’t give him credit for.” He offered a scaly hand, which Kaidan accepted warily. Wrex hauled him effortlessly to his feet, and gave him a brusque nod.

“You are krantt.”

Kaidan wasn’t sure how to respond, but Wrex saved him the trouble by ambling away without further comment. The krogan had been nearly invisible since their return from Virmire. After finding him here Kaidan wasn’t even sure if he’d even left the ship.

He hadn’t considered the possibility that a krogan might mourn a human soldier. But Ashley…had that effect on people.

With a wipe of his eyes Kaidan began piling Ashley’s things into a crate. Once the locker was empty he sealed it, then closed the crate up as well and entered it into the ship’s inventory for the requisitions offer to offload and send to her family. By the time he finished, his grief had been replaced by grim, dogged resolve.

We’re coming for you, Saren. May God help you, you bastard.  

[goofygomez]

Moonlit Wishes - A Rayllum Fanfic

Hey everyone, long time no see! I've been on hiatus for a very long time, and it's very quite good for my mental health. Recently I binged The Dragon Prince on Netflix (highly recommend it) and decided to do as I do and write a fic for it.

This one in particular is inspired by @raayllum's amazing Hiatus Hoedown. This time I'm taking a crack at Day 1: Talking to the moon. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Here's a link to the Ao3 story, if you'd prefer to read it on there.

Description: Callum and Rayla discuss the differences in their cultures' way of wishing upon celestial bodies, fluff ensues.

Wordcount: 3386

----

Callum had always loved the moon, even as a child. It had always looked to him as a watchful eye, surveying the world beneath it. His mother would take him on nightly strolls along the castle to go see it, and she knew the secret passages to the highest towers without alerting the Crownsguard. She called them ‘their little adventures’. Of course, she was the Queen, so they did not really need to sneak around, but Callum found their nighttime wanderings something… magical.

They would stare up at the moon and tell each other about their days, sometimes sharing a jelly tart from the town baker until eventually, he’d fall asleep on her lap. He never did get to tell his mother how much those nights meant to him before it was too late. Nearly ten years later, that void in his heart still ached every time he looked up at that beautiful silver moon.

“What’ya thinking about?” came the voice of Rayla from behind him. He turned to see his girlfriend tilting her head at him.

“Nothing, just… thinking,” he said.

“Oh, that’s specific,” teased the elf.

Callum rolled his eyes and took her hand in his, four fingers against five. Her silver hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, a small braid poking its way through it on her left side. Her lilac eyes, bright and alert as ever, looked into his green ones, and a goofy grin spread across her lips.

“Just thinking about you… and how beautiful you are,” he said, trying his best at sounding smooth. It was partially downplayed by his voice cracking, but she giggled nonetheless.

“Shut up, you dummy.” She punched him playfully on the shoulder.

“C’mon, I wanna show you this place,” he said, gesturing behind him.

They were on the outskirts of the Katolian Capital’s forest, walking down a partially obscured path. Large, ancient trees stood like sentries on either side of them, their tops barely obscuring the silver rays of moonlight seeping through the branches, casting odd, elongated shadows over the packed dirt. Dead leaves and pine needles were strewn about haphazardly, almost deliberately to accentuate their footfalls.

Callum thought of the last time he came to this particular spot with his brother and step-father. It seemed an eternity ago that they’d played ‘I spy’ on this very path. Now, their father was dead and Ezran, newly crowned King of Katolis, had spent the first few months of his rule advocating for the union of the human kingdoms with the Xadian population, with Callum at his side. It had not been easy so far, as some wounds were still fresh in the other rulers’ minds, but Ezran had still not lost hope.

Rayla had been with them most of the time, trying her best to be an ambassador for the young king, though her status with the Moonshadow elves was still under review. Callum assured her that they would eventually be forced to lift her banishment, but some of the elder elves were… stubborn in their thinking. He just hoped they would listen to them when they arrived there next month.

After a few minutes of silent pacing, punctuated solely by their soft footsteps and the occasional chirping of crickets, they arrived at a large clearing. Just ahead of them, a small lake shimmered under the moonlight. The packed dirt on the path gave way to lush green grass, illuminated both by the starry sky and fireflies. The bank closest to them was filled with small boulders, eroded by millennia of contact with the eerily still waters.

Callum stepped back to let Rayla see the whole picture and grinned.

“So? What do you think?”

The elf glanced around the clearing with awe and wonder in her eyes. Callum did not fail to notice her disgruntled expression directed at the peaceful water.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going into the lake,” he assured her, chuckling when Rayla sighed dramatically.

“Thank the Moon,” she said, nodding. “If you had brought me to a nighttime swim, I would probably break up with you.”

“Duly noted.” He took her hand again and led her to one of the boulders, careful not to steer her too close to the water’s edge. “I just thought it would be fun to just… hang out here.”

They sat on the rock and spread out, stretching their legs slightly after a half-hour walk down the forest.

“It does seem peaceful,” she conceded, laying her head on his shoulder. “Been a while since we were able to do this.”

Callum sighed. “I know.” Between assisting his brother and Rayla’s constant trips to and from Xadia, they had not had much time to themselves as a couple. “I promise to make a little more time when you’re here.”

“At least it’s for a good cause, right?” said Rayla. “I mean, Ez needs all the help he can get. Plus, we’ve got a lot of time to… catch up once things settle down.” She looked up at him with a fond smile.

Callum thought of all the times, even before they got together, that they just sat on a patch of dirt or some rock, looking at the sky and wondering when their mission would be over; wondering if they’d ever see their homes again, or would live to tell the tale.

“I just want to know when that is. Even just an estimate would be nice,” he said half-heartedly, letting out a deep breath and leaning forward to place a caste kiss on her lips. “But this is worth the wait.”

“Look who’s all sappy all of a sudden,” she said with a grin and kissed him again. “I love you, dummy.”

“I love you, too.”

They sat there, enjoying each other’s presence for what felt like forever, but could only have been ten minutes. A soft breeze had picked up from the east, creating ripples on the otherwise still surface of the lake; distorting the reflection from the crescent moon above. He looked up once more, wondering if his mother was out there somewhere, overjoyed that her sons were following in her and Harrow’s footsteps.

Just as he scanned the sky for whatever signs she would send him, something incredible happened. Almost as if called upon by his thoughts, a shooting star streaked across the star-strewn sky, bright and beautiful. As fast as it had come, it vanished.

“Look, did you see that?” he exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the spot where it had just been.

“Uh, what am I looking at?” asked Rayla, confused.

“The shooting star, right there.” He closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. He could feel Rayla staring at him, and after a few seconds, opened his eyes to see her wide-eyed and thoroughly confused.

“Wha- What just happened?” she said, glancing between him and the sky.

“It’s a shooting star,” he said matter-of-factly. “When you see one, you make a wish. Don’t elves do that?”

“Wait, humans wish upon shooting stars?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”

Callum shrugged. “I don’t know, we just do. It’s a tradition or something.”

“Humans are weird.”

“Sure, what do you guys wish upon? The moon?” he said with a smirk, enjoying a little too much how pink her cheeks got.

Rayla scoffed. “As a matter of fact, we do,” she said, trying and failing to sound indignant.

“But the moon is there every night,” he said, glancing up at the sky and frowning. “That’s a lot of wishes.”

“We only wish on a New Moon, dummy,” she explained patiently.

“Why only the New Moon?” Callum asked, genuinely curious. It seemed logical enough that they wouldn’t wish on the moon every single night, but any insight into his girlfriend’s culture was something he did not take lightly.

“Well, the idea is that a New Moon signals the beginning of another cycle. The halfway point between two Full Moons, which is when we’re at our strongest. The Moon Arcanum supposedly… blesses us when we’re at our weakest.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Callum said pensively. “More sense than whatever humans came up for shooting stars, at least.”

“So… what did you wish for just now?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why? Is it embarrassing?” teased Rayla, poking him in the ribs. He chuckled but shook his head.

“No, because if I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Well that’s no fun,” she said with a pout.

Callum shrugged and scooted closer to Rayla, taking her right hand in his and squeezing gently. They both sighed contently, almost as if they knew what the other was thinking; could sense the peacefulness and the stillness of the air around them.

“Tell you what, if it comes true, I’ll let you know,” he said, kissing the top of her head, careful to avoid her horns.

“Sounds good,” she said. “So what were you muttering before? I have good hearing but it barely sounded like words.”

“It’s like a little song you say before you make your wish?”

Rayla studied him curiously, nodding along as he spoke. She seemed to be thinking about something, debating with herself. She blinked once and looked into his eyes.

“Would you teach me?” she asked softly.

“You wanna make a wish?” he said. When she nodded, he sat up straight, facing her. He took her hands in his and grinned. “Repeat after me. Star bright, star light.”

She nodded and followed his instructions. She closed her eyes and sighed before saying, “Star bright, star light.”

“First star I see tonight.” He thought it might not count, as she had not done it before, but it was the thought that counted, right?

She repeated the phrase and her lips curved ever so slightly upwards.

“Wish I may, wish I might,” he continued

“Wish I may, wish I might.”

“Have the wish I wish tonight,” he concluded, opening his eyes and seeing her mouthing the end of the song, nodding almost solemnly. Her eyes fluttered slowly open and landed on him.

Callum heard the rustling of leaves above them, possibly from a squirrel scrutinizing them or a songbird perching on a branch. He thought of all the time they’d have as a couple, especially after their help was not as imperative in the running of Katolis, to just… be happy together. How long had he refrained from letting himself be truly content with his life? And now, being with Rayla, he couldn’t even imagine anything or anyone else for him.

He leaned forward and kissed her ever so gently. Her lips tasted of moonberries, and her violet eyes, almost glowing in the dark, closed as she melted into the kiss and he felt her hand on his scarf, not quite pulling him in but not pushing him either. When they broke apart, he was grinning.

“My wish did come true,” he said, cheekily.

“Mine too,” she replied.

-

Rayla’s footsteps were light and gentle on the soft ground; years of training to be an assassin still ingrained in her every move. Even eight years after meeting who she now knew was the love of her life, there still was a part of her that kind of missed those times when life was so… straightforward. Even so, as she looked back at Callum – now a few inches taller than he’d been when they met, and growing what could only be described as the faintest shadow of a beard – she knew in her bones that that little part of her was wrong.

He looked impressive with his fur overcoat, his immaculately woven violet undershirt (which he claimed matched her eyes) and his leather boots. He had opted not to wear his signature red scarf tonight, which she suspected was just so he could more prominently showcase his facial hair, which he was weirdly proud of.

Callum stood a little ways away from Rayla, looking up at the moon with closed eyes and a sort of… wistful expression on his face. Her mind instantly brought the memory of one of their first dates to this magical clearing in Katolis, where she’d taught him the strange human tradition of wishing upon shooting stars. Moon and Stars, Ethari had burst out laughing when she had told him. Humans were weird.

Now, her weird human was stoically standing with his hands on his hips. She cleared her throat, leaning against a nearby tree. Callum shook his head as though he hadn’t realized she was there, and grinned.

“Hey, sorry, did I space out?” he said.

“Yeah, it was daytime when you stopped there,” she replied, arching an eyebrow.

He snorted and held out his hand, which she gratefully took. “I’m sure it was less than a minute.”

They resumed their stroll down the familiar path, pine needles crunching merrily under Callum’s less graceful steps. She only rolled her eyes in response and lay her head on his shoulder, doing her very best not to impale him with one of her horns, which had also grown considerably as she reached adulthood. She knew humans had a rather short life expectancy; at least shorter than the oldest elves she knew back in Xadia, but at least their early years of development were more or less even.

She wondered in silence just how much of a difference their physiology would make down the road. Would she outlive him by decades? Would the rest of her human friends do the same…? She shook her head and pushed away those thoughts, choosing instead to bask in the moment; being here with Callum was all that mattered.

Eventually, the trees thinned, thick trunks giving way to mere shrubbery as the clearing they’d been seeking opened up in front of them. A beautiful, albeit terrifying lake, loomed ahead of them, its unnervingly calm waters barely rippling in the autumn breeze. She could see the reflection of the stars in it, flashing intermittently like little candles flickering in the night.

Wordlessly, Callum and Rayla kept following the path until they reached their favourite spot: a large boulder, far enough away from the shore that her skin didn’t prickle with anxiety every time a particularly strong current grazed the edges. Callum had attempted to help her through her fear multiple times, but the best he’d ever gotten her to do was get on a boat without getting extremely seasick.

It wasn’t as though sea travel was a major obstacle between the human kingdoms and Xadia. Most if not all the roads to and from her ancestral home were entirely land-based, so she hadn’t had to brave the murderous ocean ever since their stint with Captain Villads, which she still claimed was one of the worst experiences of her life.

“You alright?” she heard Callum say beside her, as they sat atop the boulder and looked out toward the lake. “You look a little pale.”

“Just a little… cold,” she lied, shrugging. It wasn’t a complete lie, of course. The breeze had picked up considerably in the last half hour they’d been walking, but she was pretty used to the cold when living in Katolis.

Ever the gentleman, Callum took off his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, ignoring her protests. She grinned sheepishly at him and cuddled closer to him, the warmth of the coat enveloping her only slightly more than her closeness to him.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft. He moved around for a second before settling in against the rock and wrapping an arm around her.

“Anything for you,” he said. She felt her cheeks heat up, almost childishly. He had complimented her thousands of times over the years, but it still didn’t mean she was used to it.

“Y’know, there was an actual reason I brought us here tonight,” he added after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh?” she said, looking up at him curiously.

“Well, I just wanted to, uh, tell you how much I love you, and how much better you’ve made not only my life, but everyone’s,” he said, clearly fumbling for words, as though he had rehearsed this and did not want to get a single thing wrong. “You’re beautiful and kind, and strong, and…” he trailed off, looking down at her apologetically. “I’m very bad at this.”

She chuckled and sat up straight, facing him as she had all those years ago under a crescent moon. “No, go on,” she said. “I like when you get all flustered.”

“Oh, then this should be a joyride for you,” he said, assuming her same posture. “I just… wanted to show you just how much I love you. Ever since you tried to kill me that night…” He looked at her with a smirk, and it was her turn to flush. “You changed my life, and I wouldn’t trade these last 8 years for the world. You make me feel whole, even in my worst days, or when I’m frustrated by a new spell, or a council meeting gone wrong. You’re always there for me. So…”

He turned slightly to the side and shoved his hand into his pocket, struggling against what she assumed were nerves. She was extremely curious as to where this was going, but her suspicions were rising. Eventually, he pulled out what seemed to be a rather small box. It was violet, like his undershirt and her eyes.

“Rayla,” Callum said, sucking in a breath and looking at her with those big green eyes of his sparkling in the starlight. He opened the small box and Rayla could finally see that it was a silver ring. It was adorned with two tiny amethysts, glinting brightly up at her, flanking what she recognized at once as a Moon Opal. Her breath caught in her throat, tears threatening to break surface with her eyes.

“Will you marry me?” she heard him say, almost hazily; as though in a dream.

She took several long looks at him, then back at the ring, then finally landed on his face, contorted with an awkwardness only Callum could pull off as cute instead of downright constipated. She let out a small laugh and nodded slowly, watching as his emerald green eyes widened, as though he couldn’t quite believe them.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you big dummy.” She launched herself at him and enveloped him in a rather strong hug, tears now flowing freely from her eyes, because who would even judge her for it? After a few seconds – or it might have been an hour – or several moonlit nights – they broke apart. She kissed him deeply and he grabbed the ring from the box, taking her left hand with his own.

“Uh…” he hesitated, looking from her hand to her face. “Which hand do elves wear wedding rings on?”

Rayla couldn’t help but giggle. In any other circumstance, she would have rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the shoulder. This time, however, she just shrugged. “This one.” She pointed to her fourth finger, smiling.

A little more confidently, he took her hand and gingerly placed the ring on it. She heard him breathe a sigh of relief and chuckled.

“You were really nervous, weren’t ya?” she teased, admiring the ring on her hand. “You knew I was gonna say yes regardless, so why worry?”

“I did, but it still doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking,” he said, shrugging. “You like it?”

“I love it, it’s beautiful,” she said, leaning in to kiss him again.

They lay back against the boulder, looking up at the sky, their hands clasped and breathing deep. The New Moon stood sentry in the sky, grey and muted against the starry night, yet oddly imposing. She could feel the pull of it in her bones; the characteristic surge of energy that nighttime gave her kind. She pondered this as a thought occurred to her.

“Was that what you were doing before?” she asked tentatively, glancing up at her boyfriend. No, not her boyfriend… her fiancé.

“Yeah, I remembered that time you showed me how you guys wish on the New Moon,” he explained, laying his head on the top of hers. “I guess I wanted to be extra lucky tonight.”

“You’re a dork,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“But I’m your dork,” he retorted.

Yes, he was her dork, and she was his. Forever.