#ONE Harry isn't remembering half the shit he says before bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bangtancentricsblog · 4 years

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》 Unbeknownst to Jungkook, there is a rise in popularity for a particular human holiday, one of which leaves him blindsided and scrambling to find the absolute perfect gift for his one and only. They say food is the quickest way to a man’s heart but no one ever said it didn't work on women.

❒ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

❒ genre: fluff, established relationship, a dash of angst, and a pinch of smut

❒ alternative universe: fantasy, college/university, werewolf, witch,

❒ rating: 18+

❒ word count: 12.4 k+

warnings/disclosures: werewolf Jungkook, witch MC, kinda tsundere mc, cat shifters Yoongi and Yoonji, Fairy Jimin, Siren Taehyung, MC is on the bigger side!, Merman Seokjin, Elf Hoseok, Vampire Namjoon, friendly fondling from yoonji, heteroflexible/bicurious yoonji, boob talk, mc is not good at cooking, misunderstanding on jungkook’s part, baking mishaps, frazzled jungkook, not so helpful/helpful yoongi, half-hearted frenemies Jungkook and Yoonji, Jungkook cries a little, yoonji jumping to conclusion, sense8 references, harry potter references, killing eve reference, way too many allusions to sex, jungkook isn't a good at baking, always reliable Seokjinnie, chubby POC Bunny shifter OC, whiney JK and MC, ‘rich’ jungkook, not edited i tried to i really did, taste testers Jimin and Taehyung, SMUT is at the end, bad smut at the end, food play (mostly them getting turned on by feeding each other), fingering (ew why do we call it that? Finger blast sounds better lmao), cock warming-ish, tiny hints of a size kink, grinding, soft fuck, soft spanking, sappy endings

❀ this is part of the bangtan pastries valentine collab hosted by the lovely @suhdays, who also made my lovely banner 💖 make sure to check out the other fics as well, they’re amazing as are the other authors and please excuse any incoherent inconsistencies or misspelling as this fic was written over a many days and long hours ❀

main ml • AO3

His nose is cold, a weird thing to think about when a werewolf's body temperature literally runs higher than every other species. There’s a chill racing up his spine as he shivers reaching a lazy arm across the bed in search of your warmth only to come up empty. Jungkook finally cracks an eye open, pushing himself into a sitting position to see if you really are missing or you’ve only scooted to the very edge of the bed to escape his scalding body temperature. Though to his displeasure you are in fact missing, he’s running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath before scrunching his feature. His nose is still cold, so he can't smell much, can only feel the slight sting of the frigid air as he breathes it in.

He hates the winter, all he can ever smell is the damp ground and the cold of the air. Funnily enough most werewolves loved winter since it gave them a break from their heightened senses, not Jungkook though, he couldn't stand not being able to smell you on his bed, in your house, on him. Your shared bedroom is extra chilly this morning raising goosebumps along his exposed skin, he’s tired, not having gotten enough sleep from the long night of studying he’d done the night before.

You’re a naturally early riser so he knows why you’re up, Jungkook however isn't exactly a morning person, never has been, especially on the weekend when neither of you have anywhere to be. He’s groggy as he pads down the hallway, a yawn stretching his mouth wide, another shiver wracking his body the closer he gets to the back of the house, it’s always been chillier there, it’s downright brutal in the winter time.

He isn't surprised when he finally comes to stand in the doorframe of the sunroom watching your figure drop what he’s pretty sure is mugwort in the bubbling cauldron. There’s this sense of domesticity watching you work, a luxury he couldn't afford as the two of you grew up. He can almost vividly remember the ugly way you’d scowl at him when he’d plop down in front of you brandishing scraped up hands or knees. A soft almost unkind reminder that he should be more careful and that next time he came in you wouldn't treat his wounds. He remembers thinking you didn't like him, maybe even hated him, so after a while (more like into his teenage years) he just stopped showing up. So you would imagine his surprise when you’d finally cornered him after his abrupt disappearance. His lips tug upward at the memory of you clumsily confessing your feelings to him before running off, never giving him a chance to properly convey his own feelings.

It’s weird for Jungkook to think that he’d almost let you slip through his fingers, his dumb teenage werewolf hormones had told him to just let you be. That you weren’t even one of his kind, so you wouldn't be worth it. He’d been so close to letting you get away, so close to letting you leave the pack when he’d taken his precious time working through his natural instincts (at least the ones he had then). How he’d almost brushed off your confession because there was no way cold, stoic you liked him. Impossible he’d thought, and then a week after he’d overheard your parents asking permission for you to attend a school away from pack lands. Away from the pack, away from your family, and away from him. The very thought twisted his stomach unpleasantly, making him nauseous as he thought of everyday life without you.

It was then that he knew he couldn’t let that happen, something about you leaving didn't sit well in his being. He couldn’t describe it then, after all a sixteen year old only understood the bare minimum of love and life and he knew even less than that. Somewhere in his mind rushing to your house at that moment had made sense, more sense than anything had in the short amount of time he’d had to process the information. He probably should’ve knocked before rushing into your house, maybe also knocked instead of flinging your room door open the way he had. The grin he wears grows wider as he recalls what he’d seen all those years ago. The rest is history, at least the embarrassing parts that he refuses to acknowledge. He doesn’t regret the way your relationship had started, especially not after almost seven years of dating. Hell, he considers himself lucky that you even stuck around this long because truth be told Jungkook could be a handful, like now for example.

“Is that my sweater?” he asks, watching amusedly as you jump nearly spilling an entire vial of pixie dust. Your hand has gone to your chest to calm your racing heart as it beats harshly against your ribs, scowling as you think of how you hated that he was so light on his feet.

“I couldn't find an apron, and it’s cold.” you say rubbing at your nose with sweater pawed hands before sprinkling some of the pixie dust into the cauldron.

“Y’know I don't like when you brew in my clothes, the smell sticks for too long.” he sniffs, still only feeling the cold sting of the air.

“I know.” you mutter not once glancing in his direction, only reaching out to take a jar of snake venom from the array of ingredients lining the counter space beside you.

“What are you making anyways and on a Saturday?”

“Vitality potion, for extra credit.” he hums to himself content with just watching you finish up your work which really doesn't take long. You add a few drops of mint sighing contentedly while you put out the fire with a simple incantation. Jungkook watches as you rub at your eyes and easily close the distance between you, your arms wrap around his waist as you nuzzle into his chest relishing in his warmth. A muffled ‘m’tired’ slipping past your lips and tickling his chest where they press to his skin. He hums his reply, hands slipping down your sides pulling soft sighs from you as he slips them under the hem of your hoodie to press chilled hands to your warm hips.

You squeal, trying in vain to wriggle away from him as he muffles his laugh in your neck. He’s quick to pull your body close, before lifting you over his shoulder, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you steady. Your giggles are almost manic as you laugh all the way to the bedroom where he proceeds to take full advantage of this early Saturday morning.

Monday morning comes way too soon, and you’re once again seated at a table of your favorite on campus cafe. Though much like always Jungkook is being clingy, scenting your neck while you kill some time before your first class. The frappe you ordered sits untouched, the slush goodness melting into a mess of almost coffee flavored water. It’s a waste of money if you don't drink it now, although you’re also sure Jungkook will polish it off should you leave it be.

“Please stop making people uncomfortable.” you sigh, pressing a palm to his face to push him away before he can bury it back in your neck.

“I’m not making people uncomfortable.” he says with a confused furrow of his brow as he casts a glance around the cafe to catch these so called uncomfortable people. He doesn't see anyone other than a couple of baristas who refuse to make eye contact even with the way his gaze is burning holes into the side of their heads. You don't look the slightest bit amused as you narrow your eyes at him, waiting a beat then two only to realize he really doesn't know. Your heart skips a beat, ‘stupid heart’ you think as it continues to do so the longer he remains oblivious. It’s moments like this that make you think that being with Jungkook is like having a big dumb dog, except you absolutely adore the shit out of him, amongst other things.

He quirks his head the slightest as your brows pinch further together the longer you stare at him, further reminding you of his canine counterpart. There’s this flutter in your tummy, the butterflies that have long since taken residence awaken fluttering about and fanning a flame that is slowly growing, traveling to your face and warming your cheeks. Stupid heart, stupid butterlies, stupid Jungkook and his big stupid beautiful eyes, you curse mentally finally ripping your gaze away from his. It’s all a little too much, so your best course of action is going to class early, you decide standing and making to leave only for his grip on your hand to tighten, one that you had forgotten about.

“Gimme a kiss.” he says around a smirk, it heats your cheeks further as you work to calm the rapid beat of your stupid heart as it bangs against your ribs. You’re almost expecting for your chest to burst open or your heart to spontaneously combust. Luckily neither of those happen as Jungkook leans in close pressing a soft peck to your lips before moving to deepen it. He’s gentle in coaxing your lips apart, much better than your first kiss, taking his time tasting you as he always does...at first. He’s squeezing one of your tight clad thighs in his big hands, a sigh almost slipping past your lips as the warmth of his palm sinks through the material. You pull away abruptly, eyelids fluttering before blinking a few times to clear the sudden haze that clouds your vision. Next to you Jungkook is whining trying his hardest to pull you back in for another kiss, that sly dog.

“I’ll see you later.” you say pressing one last barely there kiss to the corner of his mouth, almost tripping over the threshold on your way out. His gaze follows your figure until you turn the corner disappearing from his sight. He sighs heavily, it’s laced with undertones of fatigue as he reaches for your unfinished frappe.

“You guys are gross.” Yoongi breathes, taking a seat opposite Jungkook. Jimin takes your seat, as Taehyung and Hoseok follow. Hoseok takes the empty seat beside Yoongi while Taehyung pulls up a chair from a neighboring table.

“You’re just jealous my girlfriend is hotter than yours.”

“Sure kid, you go ahead and believe that.” he almost sneers.

“Why are you here so early?” Jimin asks steering the conversation away from girlfriends for now. He’s yawning suddenly, reminded of how little sleep he’s gotten today, school was the worst.

“I came with ____, can’t have her coming all alone y’know.”

“Isn't your first class at the same time as her last?” Yoongi chimes in before asking Taehyung to get him an Americano as the younger man walks over to the counter.

“Yeah, and what?” he sniffs a little defensively.

“It was just a question.” Yoongi deadpans.

“Don’t you and your satan spawn of a twin share all your classes with ____?”

“No, we have classes together Tuesdays through thursdays.” he supplies easily, leaning back in the chair.

“Why not all week?” Hoseok asks in a tone filled with genuine curiosity.

“Monday and Fridays are the hardest days to get out of bed, duh.” he says almost matter of factly and they have to agree with Yoongi on this one. Monday is truly the worst day of the week, though it's now that Jungkook notices the absence of the previously mentioned satan’s spawn. He almost bristles, thinking that Yoonji might be out there somewhere harassing his sweet little girlfriend.

You scream, startled by the sudden weight that presses itself to you, a giggle like purr filling your ears before you relax. Yoonji’s hair brushes your cheeks softly, her arms wrapping around your frame and you squeak at the feel of her hand cupping your chest through the hoodie you wear. It’s a usual occurrence, though no less embarrassing as she continues to snuggle closer to you.

“Did your boobs get bigger?” she asks nose nudging against the soft pudge of your cheek, you know she’s scenting you, her way of messing with Jungkook later when she can’t physically be there.

“No, please stop.” you sigh, feeling a gentle squeeze followed by a soft breathy moan, heat erupting across your cheeks in embarrassment. She snickers giving your ample chest one last squeeze before finally moving away. She falls in step with you, walking along the path, snow crunching underfoot before moving to speak again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you like about Jungkook? I mean sure he’s great, not really, and all but really what is it? Is it his dick game because other than you I don't really think he’s ever been with anyone else.” She asks stuffing her hands in her coat pockets to stave off the slight chill that has zapped all the warmth from her fingers. There’s a brief pause in her thoughts as she wonders if Jungkook uses your impressive rack as the natural hand warmers they are, the lucky bastard she thinks with a scowl.

“I don't know, all of him.”

“That’s too vague an answer, like if I were to ask him what do you think he’d say he likes about you?”

“That I’m just so cute.” you answer almost immediately hands cupping your cheeks as if to further prove that you are in fact cute. The scrunch to her nose is adorable, squishing her already delicate features, as you smile softly at her and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Not that cute, but to each their own I guess. I’ll see you later yeah?” she asks, turning on her heel to walk in the direction you had just come from.

“I’ll be there.” You call after her watching as she raises a single hand to show you she’d heard you.

Yoonji is sliding onto Hoseok’s lap with all the grace of the satan spawn she is, easily wrapping a single arm around his neck and taking a sip from your abandoned frappe. She hums around the straw gaze trained on Jungkook’s bewildered expression, it brings her immense pleasure to see him so distressed.

“Why are you here and what do you think you’re doing?” Jungkook asks, snatching the drink back.

“It was only a sip you’re overacting, besides it’s mostly water now anyways.” She scoffs feeling Hoseok wrap his arms tighter around her waist pulling her closer to him.

“You don’t understand, now my poor ____ has indirectly kissed you. She’s been tainted by your nasty germs, Hobi do something!” Jungkook whines cheeks flushing an unhealthy shade of red, it’s almost endearing how childlike that is of him.

“I don’t think I can do anything, since it’s already happened.” He replies easily long since used to antics and strange rivalry between his girlfriend and Jungkook. Yoonji licks her lips mischievously snickering before shooting a somewhat sultry gaze at Jungkook.

“Hmm, can I ask you something Junglebook?” she says.

“No, in fact I would very much enjoy it if you never spoke again. Yoongi how did the two of you share a womb?”

“I don't know, it just happened, what were you saying Yoonji?”

“It’s not my fault you prefer the fossil over there over me. I’m literally amazing, anyways what do you like about ____?” she asks, ignoring Yoongi’s muttering and the somewhat awkward silence that has settled over the table. Jungkook to his credit doesn't blow this out of proportion as he usually does, so she watches as he sits quietly hands wrapped around the cup. This time there’s a slow flush of color flooding his cheeks, it’s kind of cute in a weird ugly kind of way. It’s not like she found Jungkook particularly attractive, but she guesses she could, maybe if the boy next door was her type.

“I don’t know, she’s just really cute, she looks tiny compared to me, and I don't know, all of her?” the flush has spread to his neck and ears, a look she has to say she’s never witnessed before. Again cute in a gag her romcom kind of way, she would be sick if you hadn't already prepared her for his answer. She still fakes a gag either way destroying the warm bubble he’d created with all his mushy sappy feelings.

“You’re so lame, no wonder you didn't have friends in high school.” she laughs before planting a kiss to Hoseok’s cheek.

“You guys were my friends in high school.” he says, brows pinched together an ugly glare directed at Yoonji who has begun ignoring everyone, so that she can whisper to Hoseok.

“Ignoring Satan and the literal walking ball of sun, what are you doing for Valentine’s day?” Yoongi asks, sounding mildly irritated at the topic he himself has brought up.

“That’s like two weeks away, what does it have to do with us singles?” Jimin laughs resting his chin in an open palm.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have plans.”

“Valentine’s day is for girls, and again I’m single what would that do?”

“What are you doing for Valentines day Jungkook?” Yoongi asks, turning his gaze to Jungkook who has sat silently from the start. The expression he wears is of confusion, brows pinched as if he were sitting in on a pack meeting full of boomers that didn't understand the world of today.

“Jungkook?” Jimin says catching Jungkook’s attention.

“What is that?” he asks timidly, again silence settles over the group all of them wearing a different expression. It’s broken by Yoonji who literally looks like the cat who ate the canary, it’s truly disgusting and he wishes he never has to see it again.

“Are you serious, you don't know what Valentine’s day is.” she snickers, a little too happily for Jungkook who remains just as confused as he had been before.

"Your girlfriend is human." Jimin says just as unhelpful.

"She's a witch, not a human." he reminds them.

“Witch still lands on the human side of the spectrum.” The conversation is going in circles, he thinks feeling irritation creep into him at the way they all continue to discuss your race.

“Can we please keep this conversation moving? What is Valentines day?” he asks, letting just a tiny bit of irritation seep into his tone.

“It’s a human holiday, made for couples to celebrate love.” Taehyung says, adding to the conversation for the first time this morning and suddenly reminding everyone of his presence. He shrugs off their stare, instead gathering his things and leaving them just as easily as he had joined the conversation.

“Why is a human holiday so important all of a sudden? It isn’t anything like the summer solstice right?” Yoonji looks more and more amused the longer they stay on the topic, lips curling upward into a smile that is both haunting and sort of breathtaking in a sinister steal your soul kind of way. He shivers, deciding then that he’ll pray to the moon goddess for Hoseok’s sanity.

“God you really are out of the loop, poor doggy.” Yoonji laughs sliding into the vacant chair but making sure it’s pressed as close to Hoseok as possible.

“Hoseok, please.” Jungkook breathes, maybe it’s the fatigue that is allowing Yoonji to annoy him quicker than usual or maybe she’s just testing his patience more than usual. Either way he’s distracted by Jimin clearing his throat, always playing the peacekeeper.

“You’re right, it isn't like the summer solstice but for some reason the girls like it. I think humans traditionally give chocolate, small gifts, or do other romantic couple things. This is usually the day most people confess feelings to someone, it’s actually really popular nowadays. I think even my parents celebrate valentine's day.” Jimin says the last bit more to himself than to the others.

“Wait, so do you guys give girls chocolate?” he asks, genuinely interested.

“No, I’ve had people give me friendship chocolate before.” Jungkook can’t seem to wrap his head around the whole chocolate thing at least not right now. Still he wonders if you would like to receive a gift from him. He listens intently as Yoongi and Hoseok talk about a course they’re taking seemingly having forgotten the prior conversation with the departure of Yoonji and Jimin who share an astronomy class.

He’s not forgotten about the conversation later that week while he sits on Jin's couch killing time before he goes home after all you texted him earlier saying that you’d be studying in the library and not to wait up. Jin had been filling him in on the show that’s been playing for the last two hours, one based on eight individuals who all share a birthday and somehow a weird mental connection. Truth be told Jungkook has been staring listlessly at the screen the colors long since blurred as his eyes have lost focus, hazy blobs moving this way and that. The sound has been drowned out almost as if the volume has been turned down while he thinks.

“- Riley to me is the least useful of the cluster, don’t you think?” Jin asks, Jungkook hums along not really hearing what his friend has said.

“Whispers isn’t really a bad guy, and neither is Rajan’s dad, right?” he says this time watching intently as Jungkook hums again leaning further into the couch.

“Jungkook, seriously you aren’t even watching it.”

“I am, Sun is in prison and Joongki must die.” he mutters, blinking a few times before turning his gaze to meet Jin’s.

“What’s wrong, if you’re tired you should go home and get some sleep.” Jin huffs leaning back into the recliner.

“Not tired, just thinking.” he says unconvincingly around a yawn that stretches his mouth a little too wide, suddenly reminding Jin of a lion. They sit in the relative silence for a brief moment, the sounds of another fight scene playing in the background drags Jin’s gaze back to the TV.

“What are you doing for valentines day?” he finally asks, he feels his lips twitch at the way Jin is quick to pause the show.

“Why? Are you going to tell me how much you love me?”

“No, it’s just my first time hearing about it.” he mumbles pouting slightly. Jin wonders how this boy was going to lead a pack when he’s such a child, then again he doesn’t understand werewolf hierarchy all too well.

“Are you planning to celebrate it?” Jungkook stills, once again wondering if you would be happy to receive chocolate as the others had mentioned.

“I don't know maybe, do you think ____ would like it?” Jin can hear the uncertainty in Jungkook’s voice, and for some odd reason he wants to laugh. He shouldn't because it’s rare for Jungkook to really share his feelings with someone that isn't you. Instead he asks himself the same question, would you be happy if Jungkook gave you a gift. It’s hard to imagine with you being reserved and all, but he thinks that you might, if it was behind closed doors in the safety of your own home.

“Yeah, I think she would.” And his answer is worth it he thinks as he watches the way Jungkook’s eyes twinkle with determination at the prospect of surprising you. When Jungkook goes home that night he spends a little too much time doing what he calls ‘research’ completely ignoring the course work that sits beside his laptop on his desk.

The weekend has come again and Jungkook is more than tired between school, and trying to find the best kind of gift he’s stumped and a little miserable. It had snowed again, covering the roads that had already been cleared, what’s more is that you have virtually moved into the library the last week. He’s seen less of you in the past week than he has his whole life, which just makes him more irritable as he drags himself out of bed, hoping, no, praying that you are home today. It’s Saturday after all, and you should be here in bed cuddling him, but you aren’t so he thinks you might be in the sunroom again brewing more potions. He finds it empty, not a single sign that you had been there at all by now he’s beginning to worry.

Slowly he pads back down the hall stopping briefly when he catches a soft almost muted sigh. He recognizes it almost instantly, his gaze falling to the couch as he rounds it to find you curled up underneath a thin lap blanket. You look so comfortable he doesn’t have the heart to move you, so instead he opts for something a little different. Jungkook is quick to leave returning with a heavier blanket and a pillow before he’s slipping his body into the tiny crevice you’ve left between your body and the back of the couch. He’s almost sighing at the way you unconsciously snuggle closer to his warm, he pulls you in closer, tucking your body as close to him as possible but also keeping you both comfortable in the limited space. His eyelids begin to flutter, the past weeks exhausting catching up with him now that he’s found ultimate comfort with you.

When Jungkook wakes again he’s on his back, his pinky finger just barely skimming the sliver of skin exposed by the way your shirt has ridden up. You’ve yet to awaken, brows furrowed in your sleep, your face relaxes when he nuzzles the crown of your head. He cherishes these quiet moments, not that he didn't all the others but these were his favorite. Enjoyed the naturalness of it all, like this you weren’t hiding from others, you weren’t reserved, you were just yourself and he liked that. He briefly wonders what time it might be, when he feels you begin to stur, it always starts off slow. You sigh softly a single puff of air leaving your nose, then you nuzzle into what would usually be your pillow but today it’s Jungkook’s chest, next comes the twitch of your fingers followed by the stretch of your arm, hand seeking the warmth that is usually Jungkook beside you. Instead your hands tangle in the softness of the blanket pulling it closer softly knocking him on the chin as you snuggle into the comfort.

“____, baby it’s time to get up.” he murmurs voice husky from disuse.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Gotta make us some breakfast.” he sighs feeling you shift further before you sit up, your eyes are half lidded, hair mused. The long sleeve your wear is slipping off one of your shoulders, you’re blinking sluggishly, gaze still unfocused but at least you're awake now. His hands find purchase on your thighs, squeezing them slightly so that your gaze meets his.

“You awake yet baby? Need some help?” he asks watching the way you frown down at him before shaking your head, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. His heart squeezes in his chest, a slow heat swirling low in his belly the longer you straddle him. You shift your weight as you stretch, back arched in a way that pulls his gaze to your chest, through the thin material he can make out the stiff peaks of your nipples. There’s a twitch of his fingers as he restrains himself from feeling the soft weight of them in his palms, but there are other things troubling him at the moment. Mostly the way he can feel the heat of your pussy through the thin material of panties as you settle more of your weight on his crotch.

“Breakfast?” you ask, the single word is enough to drag his thoughts back to something fluffy, something softer, less deprived. He squeezes at your thighs again sitting up to press a kiss to your cheek before sliding you off his lap and intertwining your fingers as you follow him to the bathroom.

Jungkook is humming as he sways at the stove chuckling as you squeeze your arms tighter around his waist when he stops swaying. It’s odd for you to be this openly affectionate, even here in the safety of your home mostly because he likes to take advantage of the situations persuading you to do things he would rather keep to himself. Still he can’t say he isn't enjoying himself, at least he was until he hears the door fly open and the telltale muttering of one Min insufferable Yoonji. Your grip tightens further as you press yourself closer almost as if you’re trying to hide from her, but that doesn't make sense, as much as he hates to admit it you two are super close.

“What are you doing?” she asks, and just her tone makes him pause.

“Making breakfast.” he replies before he hears a scoff.

“I wasn't talking to you Junglebook, ____ what are you doing, you were supposed to meet me three hours ago.” she sighs as you whine pathetically against Jungkook’s back rubbing your face into the soft material of his shirt.

“I can’t hear you.”

“M’tired, don't wanna go.” you cry and Jungkook feels heat rush to his cheeks at the tone you use, it reminds him of the way you sound when he’s balls deep in you. He really shouldn't be thinking of that, especially not with that thing you call your best friend around.

“This was your decision, I’m just there for moral support. Now let's go before I catch whatever disease Jungkook carries.” she sniffs, narrowing her eyes when you don’t budge.

“Can’t you at least let her eat breakfast before you drag her away?” Jungkook asks, moving the grilled cheese to the cooling rack glaring at Yoonji over his shoulder. She sighs heavily but silently agrees as she takes a seat at the kitchen island. He can hear the clicks of her keyboard as she typed something into her phone followed by the swoosh of her message being sent. Briefly, and just briefly he wondered who the hell would want to talk to her so damn early. Though he can’t really call afternoon early now can he.

You look sleepy when you’re finally ready to leave after having eaten your weight in bread, cheese, and butter, a look he absolutely adores. Yoonji is standing in the open door typing on her phone again, ignoring the flowery atmosphere that blankets the two of you like some cliche shoujo manga. The way you smile up at him makes his heart flutter, a pleasant wave of warm slowly makes its way through his body as you hug him and he’s planting a kiss to the crown of your head not so subtly scent marking you. It’s only when Yoonji makes an exasperated sound do you two pull away.

“See you later, be safe.” he says smiling in a way that makes your tummy flutter.

“I will.” you almost sigh before Yoonji glares at him once more and pulls you along. With you gone, he has nothing else to do than to look through the possible gifts options he’d bookmarked. There’s so many things to chose from, gourmet chocolates, edible arrangements, teddy bears, flowers, jewelry, spa days, sex? It’s all so much, he’s saved so many links it’s a folder that he’s pinned to his bookmarks bar on his search engine. Maybe he should ask for help, Yoonji wouldn’t help him even if he asked nicely while on his knees, but perhaps Yoongi and Seokjin would. He has to take that chance, and pray to the moon goddess that they’ll offer their insight.

“I can’t help you.” Yoongi says after Jungkook has gathered the most reliable of his friends.

“Why not?”

“Prior engagements, and this if your girlfriend. You should know what she’d like, let me know what you go with.” he says, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck and leaving the oldest and the youngest together.

“Jin please tell me you’ll be more helpful than Yoongi.” he whines, and Seokjin takes pity on him because as much as he hates to say it, he looks like a kicked puppy.

“I can try but it really depends on what you think ____ would like the best.” Jungkook beams at Jin’s willingness to help even if he doesn’t promise anything. He’s quick to pull open his laptop, opening one too many links that have both their heads spinning. Jungkook’s because he’s just so excited to surprise you and Jin is mostly amazed at Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. He switches through tabs, scanning over the things Jungkook has chosen, truth be told he’s not sure if any material items would be any good. He also doesn't like the ridiculous price listed beside the edible arrangements and gourmet chocolates, absolutely gawks at the price next to the jewelry. It’s not like Seokjin doesn’t know what kind of family Jungkook comes from, sure werewolves were a dime a dozen but not Jungkook, he was from one of the founding packs and in being so he was more than well off and that came from a literal prince of the sea such as himself. Still he wonders what kind of craftsmanship could be worth that much, or did Jungkook not care about price? He wants to laugh at the sheer absurdity that is the younger and his lack of care for things such as this, but he supposes that was where he came in.

“What did you have in mind?” Jin asks hesitantly, almost dreading the conversation.

“I don’t know a little of everything.” Jungkook answers sheepishly.

“A bit of everything.” Jin repeats already appalled at the idea. “Maybe you should stick to one, how about flowers?”

“____, do you think she’ll like them?”

“I don't know, i’m sure she’ll be able to use them in her potions.”

“Nevermind, not flowers. Then maybe jewelry?”

“Does ____ wear jewelry?”

“Not really, she doesn’t like being too flashy.” he mumbles.

“What about chocolate?” Jin finally asks, skipping over all the other options for fear of prolonging this dreadful conversation.

“That’s perfect, I should order it right now.” he beams, reaching for the laptop in Seokjin’s grapes but coming up empty when Jin scoots away from him.

“Or, and this is just a thought, but why don’t you make it yourself?” it’s posed as a question, though to Jungkook it sounds more like a statement, a suggestion if you will. One that he doesn’t think sounds too bad after all how hard can making chocolate be? He smiles at Jin, in a way that lets Jin know that it’s finally over. But boy was he in for a trip.

Jungkook had dragged Jin to the closest supermarket, throwing every bar of chocolate into the cart that he could find, even including other ingredients. After the supermarket they’d gone to a craft store for silicone molds, he’d even stopped at a small variety store for what he called cuter molds, because the ones from the craft store were too plain. Truth be told Jin wasn’t too sure what Jungkook would do with all that he had purchased but he knew he’d find some adequate guinea pigs for Jungkook. The younger thanks him with a meal followed by a brief goodbye before heading home to start the process of chocolate making.

As it turns out chocolate making isn’t too hard, but there’s something unsatisfying about melting premade chocolate and filling molds. It’s okay Jungkook supposes as he demolds yet another batch of half strawberry half milk chocolate rilakkuma molds. There are a few more trays of chocolates, some have pocky others have nuts but he’s still dissatisfied paying no mind to them as he dumps the finished chocolates into a tupperware instead of the box he’s intended to pack them in. This was supposed to be a test run, a successful one if they asked him but one that left him thinking that it wouldn't be enough. He heaves a heavy sigh as he finishes pulling the chocolate from the molds, moving to seal the tupperware that held them.

He’s decided then as he’s stacking the containers in a canvas bag that he’s going to Jin’s again he needs more help, but before that he needs to clean up so that you won't come home to this mess. He also doesn't want to risk you finding out what he’s planned as a surprise, he’s so focused on the task at hand he doesn't hear the door. Much less the way you and Yoonji speak animatedly as you make your way further into the house.

“Jungkook what’s this?” you ask giggling the slightest as he flinches at the gentle hand you place on his shoulder. His shock is quickly replaced by something gentle, something that has your brow furrowing. Maybe it’s the way he widens his eyes as he turns his body to face you properly, he used to do this a lot when he was trying to hide something from you back when you were kids. This faux innocent look got him in more trouble than you can remember and you don't like it, especially now.

“Hey baby, I didn't know you’d be home so soon.” he says wrapping you up in a hug. You squirm in his hold trying in vain to get him to loosen his hold on you, which makes you all the more suspicious of what he might be hiding.

“Jungkook, please.” you murmur a little confused as he continues to evade your question from earlier.

“I’m going to Jin’s for a bit. I'll be back with some take out is that okay?” he says instead grabbing the bag and heading for the door. You stare after he’s gone, a little more than confused at what has just transpired.

“Is he going to bring enough for three?” Yoonji asks from her place on the couch the tv playing a reality show you don’t particularly enjoy.

“Why is Hermione always out of breath? It’s like she’s always on the brink of hyperventilating in every scene.” Yoongi asks as he sits beside Jin, a half confused half annoyed expression sitting pretty on his face. To his credit at least he isn't hyper analyzing other aspects of the film, ones that he knows are a lot more pressing than Hermione’s inability to catch her breath. So you would imagine how relieved he is to get the door after a series of knocks, even more relieved to see Jungkook if only for a moment. Jungkook to his credit doesn't look any less different than he did earlier in the day, in fact he looks normal? Maybe he should be worried that Jungkook looks significantly less excited than he was mere hours ago. Jungkook thrusts the bag at Jin before throwing his weight down on the couch beside a very amused Yoongi.

“What is this?” Jin asks, a little too hesitant before recognizing his ‘como se llama’ eco friendly bag.

“Chocolate.” he answers quickly but a little too quietly while Yoongi perks up at the prospect of free candy.

“I thought you said you didn't have my bag,” Jin says pulling out one too many containers “are these my tupperware?” Jungkook remains silent, gaze settled on the tv as Yoongi pulls open one of the tupperware.

“What’s with all the chocolate, kinda cutesy don’t you think?” Yoongi comments offhandedly popping a few pieces into his mouth with a hum.

“They were for ____.” Yoongi pauses mid chew, turning his attention to the younger.

“Why would you give us candy meant for your girlfriend?” he asks around a mouthful of strawberry chocolate hearts.

“It was practice, I didn’t wanna give her homemade chocolates after all.” he sighs, turning his gaze to Jin who still stands beside Yoongi who continues to eat the chocolate.

“Do you have a backup plan?” Jin’s gaze falls to Yoongi who posed the question, he’s glad he wasn't the one who asked. He watches in a weird mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook’s eyes glaze over before he whines.

“No,” he all but sobs looking up at Jin with a tremble to his lip “what if ____ hates me because i didn't give her anything.” It’s so hard to hold in his laughter, Jungkook was being a little dramatic.

“There are other things you can make besides chocolate y’know.” Yoongi sighs, setting the bowl on the coffee table and finally pausing the movie after all he really likes the scene where Harry realizes the patronus he saw was his own.

“Why not bake her something, there are plenty of pastries that use chocolate.” he offers, ignoring the way both Jungkook and Jin gawk at him.

“Is hell freezing over, are you actually offering to help?” Jin gasps a little too dramatically, it makes Yoongi scowl.

“No, you ugly I won't be helping but I might know someone who can.” beside him Jungkook makes a choking noise, one that has both of them casting their gaze in his direction.

“Thank you so much Yoongi, I’ll give you my first born.”

“Keep it, I’ll have enough of my own.” he says, scrunching his nose at the thought of Jungkook’s kids. Jin on the other hand is grumbling at the level of disrespect from a solid 8 when he was in fact a 10, a 10!

“Go home, I’ll text you the information later.” he sighs trying to pacify Jin who continues to list all that makes him a 10 and Yoongi an 8. He does as he’s told, trying his best to slip out so as not to be lumped in with Yoongi even though he was feeling grateful for his hyung. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he’s scowling down at the sole message that lights up his screen.

my moon ♡

➣ don’t forget the takeout, plus extra Yoonji is here :)

He supposes he can deal with Satan just this once, he’s got a good feeling about this.

Jungkook is feeling overwhelmed to say the least, it’s Wednesday and he’s suddenly swamped with course work. To add insult to injury he hasn’t heard a single word from Yoongi who has also somehow gone missing for the last three days following their conversation over the weekend. He’s so tired he’s thinking of skipping his only class for tomorrow, what’s worse is that valentine's day is a week and a half away now and he’s still very much at square one. Luckily he’s at home so he’s free to let out a tear or two of pure frustration, he curses Yoongi for lying to him. What's worse was that he played nice with the she-demon too! Maybe he’s overreacting, there are worse things than not having giving you a gift for some stupid human holiday. Still though, he wanted to make this one memorable, even if it ended up being the only one you celebrated together. Hell you aren’t even here, he’s sure you’re doing it on purpose now.

How much extra credit could one person need, especially when you were one of the top students in your field. If push came to shove he would drag you back if he had too, but right now he just wants to curl up and pretend he didn't care about this stupid holiday. It would seem though that the universe won’t let him throw a pity party because as soon as his eyes fall shut there’s a knock at the door. He ignores it at first hoping it’s just one of his friends and they’ll leave if he doesn’t make a sound. He shouldn't have bet on it, when the knocks continue. It’s funny how urgent they sound, but really he just wants to be left alone. Still he groans, dragging himself off the couch and shuffling to the door with a scowl. The door swings open as he readies to spit nasty words at whoever has interrupted him only to catch a faint whiff of apples. His gaze falls to someone just a head shorter than him, a woman, one he doesn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” he asks, feeling the chill of the air nip at his nose as he takes a deep breath, catching the scent of a prey shifter species.

“I um, well, are you um, are you Jungkook?” she asks, her gaze easily meeting anything else except his own as he stares. He’s sizing her up, not in a scummy way of course, how could he when he had you, but he doesn't recognize her at all. Nor does her scent smell familiar so he really can't place how he would know her.

“Yes, and you are?” he finally says watching as her nerves seem to settle the slightest, though her heart is still beating a little too loudly for his liking.

“I’m Bunny, Yoongi said you would be expecting me?” she offers up easily though it’s almost a whisper. His features twist into something of confusion, Yoongi said what now? That damned cat had gone MIA, surely this was a prank or something.

“How do you know Yoongi?” He asks instead, watching a shade of rose color the light olive of her cheeks.

“We’re dating.” she mumbles bashfully clenching her hands at her side. Suddenly he recalls pestering Yoongi into letting them meet his girlfriend, and the former almost immediately putting his foot down in a firm no. So really is he at fault he didn't recognize Yoongi’s girlfriend, someone he has never met, until today that is.

“Oh, you’re that Bunny!” he almost howls watching as she flinches at the sheer volume of it. It’s cute really, he takes back what he said about her not being as hot as you, though you will always be number one in his book.

“Yeah, did Yoongi not tell you that I would be here today?”

“I don't think so.” he answers easily, watching the way she scowls more to herself than him, as she pulls her phone out and presses it to her ear.

“You didn't tell him I would be here?” Bunny says after a brief moment. He can slightly hear what he assumes is Yoongi’s voice though it's more muffled than anything.

“But Yoonie you said you would tell him. No, I was on time. Are you sure you texted him? Yoongi! Okay, you owe me big time. Promise? Okay, love you.” she finishes hanging up with a sigh, the rose on her cheeks is darker bordering more on red now.

“Sorry about that, Yoongi was supposed to send you my schedule. He said you needed help with baking a pastry?” she says with a smile sweetly at him.

“Wait, you're the someone he knows?” she tilts her head slightly brows furrowed at his words.

“I guess I am, can I come in or is this a bad time?” He’s quick to step aside, showing her to the living room and offering her something to drink. It’s odd to be alone with another woman, one who is very much not single but still weird since he’s never done it before. It’s almost off putting, so much so he feels a growl building in his chest. He really shouldn't be so guarded, especially when she is harmless and seems to have no ill intentions. He’s placing a cup of tea before her taking the seat adjacent to her as she smiles warmly at him.

“So what did you have in mind?” she asks, not unkindly pulling a notepad from her bag and resting it in her lap while she waits for his answer.

“I’m not entirely sure, I just know it has to be something with chocolate.”

“That narrows it down a bit, do you want something more elegant or simplistic?”

“Simplistic, my girlfriend doesn’t like things that are too flashy.” he sighs thinking of you and the easy smile you give him when you're eating sweets. It eases his nerves the slightest, as Bunny takes note of this.

“This almost seems like a therapy session, what with you sitting here taking notes and all.” he says to break the gentle scritch scratch sound of her pen on paper. She pauses, a small hesitant smile on her lips as she moves to meet his gaze.

“Truth be told I’m a little nervous, you’re aura is a little intimidating.” she chuckles, grip tightening on her pen. He can see the reasoning behind her words after all werewolves very rarely interacted out of their species even amongst the supernatural.

“You shouldn’t be, I’m house trained after all.” he’s amused as a flurry of giggles flee her being, and she tries in vain to stifle them. After that she seems to relax, easy narrowing down their options to a devil's food cake or a chocolate tart. He likes the idea of a tart so it’s with a little glee that he makes his decision.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at the same time and we can get started.” she says as she gathers her belongings while he shows her out. He’s excited to say the least a little more than he was when he was with the chocolate. So he guesses that in the end Yoongi was a least a little helpful.

True to her word Bunny is at his door at the same time as the previous day and Jungkook is more than happy to let her in, even taking some of the shopping bags out of her hand. He isn’t quite sure how he’ll do, but he is confident in his ability to try. After her departure and a stressful amount of time spent doing school work you had come home, sans Yoonji of course and you’d cuddled before he’d made the two of you a light dinner. Even after he’d spent too many hours reading over a single chocolate tart recipe, so much so he probably knew it by heart.

“I brought enough ingredients to make room for trial and error. You don’t have to be good at it from the get go, just follow the recipe okay?” she says in a voice that is oddly calming, he wonders briefly if she uses it on Yoongi. He nods his head in confirmation tying an apron around his waist as she does the same. She’s quick to take the reins, directing him in the tasks, and helping him when he asks for it. She says that they’ll be working in pieces, cutting the recipe in half for now as she whisks the ice water and egg yolk while Jungkook mixes the dry ingredients with butter.

“Making the dough is easy, the baking part is what usually takes a while to get right. I’m sure you’ll do fine, after all Yoongi has told me you’re a great cook.” she offers still whisking the egg and water.

“This is actually my first time baking in a while, I’ve found that I’m not that good at it.” he laughs.

“Really, your girlfriend must be very special. It’s actually kind of romantic.” He offers her a smile as they move to the next step. As it turns out Bunny is a very good teacher, helpful and patient when Jungkook thinks he might’ve messed up the dough. He learns that she’s studying to be a preschool teacher, and that one day she hopes to have a litter of her own. A soft rouge settles on her cheeks after she had divulged that tidbit of information before she asks him what his course of study is and his dreams for the future. The dough is now chilling in the refrigerator as they wait, so he supposes he can indulge her if only a bit.

“I’m doing pack management, an easy degree for someone like me.”

“Yoongi said you were loaded and I didn't believe him, but i guess it’s true.” she laughs.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it, I just want to be a good Alpha.”

“How about pups? Do you want any?”

“Of course, I want a whole pack full of my pups. I just have to marry my mate first.” She seems to perk up at this, a smile splitting her features.

“Marriage, have you asked her yet?” she asks a little too giddy for his liking but he feels a blush color his cheeks regardless.

“Not yet, I don’t think it’s the right time.” She nods her head in understanding, before pressing him for any dirt he has on Yoongi. All in all the first lesson goes smoothly, well except for the fact that he over cooks one of the tart shells and burns the other. She reminds him that there is still room for improvement, which somehow settles his nerves. He agrees with her after all there are still nine days left before the 14th.

He manages to get the tart shell perfect seven days before valentine’s day, which means he has a week to learn how to make the filing and how to put it all together. He’s feeling a little more stressed than usual with midterms coming up and your virtual lack of presence over the last few days. Really he’s starting to wonder just what is keeping you away from home all these days especially when you easily redirect his attention any time he asks. Maybe he’s overthinking it, it could really just be school work. He’s hissing, as the knife he’s using to chop the semi sweet chocolate slices through his middle finger. Luckily for him Bunny is quick to usher him away from the island and towards the sink. She wraps a bandage around his cut offering him a rubber glove to cover his bandaged hand before she wipes down the blood that had leaked onto the counter.

“Are you okay?” she asks a little too hesitantly for someone who he has become quick friends with.

“Yeah, I was just stuck in my thoughts.”

“We can always take a break, we have time.” She reminds him again, moving to clean up before leaving him alone and saying that he deserves a break from not only school but baking too. With Bunny gone he has some time to himself, time to think, to cool down and let his rational mind take control of the rampant nasty thoughts rearing their ugly little heads. To his credit he’s never once thought that you would cheat on him, it just wasn't in your personality to do so. He knew that you wouldn’t, but he really can't help letting his head tell him otherwise. Still he would know if you were, his wolf would feel it and he’s yet to cause a commotion. He decides then that he’s overthinking it, there’s a high chance that you’re just off doing god knows what with Yoonji. He doesn’t like that either but it’s still better than what the little voice in his head is saying.

Five days from Valentine's Day, he and Bunny are making the filing for the tart. He’s once again chopping semi-sweet chocolate listening to her as she tells him the next step. She’s made the tart shells beforehand so it would be easier on him so as to relieve some of the pressure for a perfect tart. He’d thanked her for the consideration when she’d arrived, which led to now as he combined heavy cream, milk heating to a low simmer before he mixed in the chopped semi sweet chocolate. He added sugar and watched as Bunny beat the eggs needed to finish the filing. The only thing left to do was stir the eggs into the chocolate mixture before pouring it into the tart shell and baking it again. With a timer they set out to clean up, before Bunny excuses herself telling him to try the tart with some friends and if he needed any further help she was only a phone call away. With her departure he’s quick to call up Jimin and Taehyung asking them rather cryptically if they wanted to come over. To his surprise they showed up rather quickly and they brought Namjoon along.

“Smells good in here.” Jimin comments.

“Really good, what are you making?” Taehyung adds.

“Are you baking?” Namjoon asks, catching the attention of the other two.

“I am, don’t tell ____. I need you to taste test it for me.” he says quickly, moving to run his fingers through his hair as his nerves kick in again.

“Cool.” Taehyung laughs, throwing his weight down on the couch before turning the TV on to show with a female assassin who’s in love with a woman from MI6. Jungkook gnaws on his lip as he watches from the kitchen, silence falls over the four of them as they watch the events unfold on screen. Jungkook is surprised at Taehyung's choice, mostly because he very rarely enjoys anything the former recommends. Since he prefers shows he can use as background noise that he doesn't have to pay much attention to. But this one is good, it’s interesting enough he barely hears the timer go off. None of the others move, gaze trained on the show as the blonde assassin plays a prank on her retainer. He likes the relationship between the retainer and the assassin, in fact he likes them a lot more than the lady from mi6. The tart is warm in his oven mitted hand, and smells amazing if he does say so himself. The shell is golden brown and the filing looks just as beautiful as he’d seen in the pictures. But he’s still not in the clear just yet, he still needs his taste testers to give him the green light.

The nervous flutter of butterflies has returned, swirling in the low of his belly as he leaves the tart to cool. He’s gone back to gnawing on his lip, thoughts running rampant that maybe it won’t be good enough, perhaps Bunny had been lying to him, maybe this would be a disaster. He tastes blood, the skin of his inner lip torn open by all the anxious gnawing, he swipes his tongue over the wound letting the coppery taste linger the longer he sits in his pool of self imposed anxiousness. The sounds of the TV are muffled, the images blurring as his gaze grows unfocused the longer he sits and waits, there’s something about the waiting that gets to him. His gaze slowly falls to the tart as it cools to the side, his brows furrowing as he looks at it.

“Oh are you cutting it?” Jimin asks, gaze focused on Jungkook and the knife he holds in hand. He can barely manage a nod, watching just as silently as his friends crowd him at the counter as he cuts them all a slice. He doesn't wait for them to take a bite, watching his fork easily cut through the chocolate and the shell hearing the soft clink of the metal on ceramic. He slowly brings the fork to his lips, and when he finally takes a bite he almost weeps.

He wakes up to you snuggled into him, an arm and leg slung over his body to keep him close. To his surprise you don’t have anything to do that day you offer up when he asks what your plans for the day are. He tries to hide the way he freezes at your revelation, after all you’d both been busy leading up to today. Finally the holiday is here and he was ready to prepare your gift while you’re out but this has thrown him for a loop. He counts himself lucky that it’s a weekend before he shoots a text to Jin asking to borrow his kitchen and that he would be more than happy to offer compensation for said favor. Jin easily agrees, reminding him that if he wanted to use it he had to be there before five since he had a date. The real pain is having to leave you when he finally has you to himself, he has to physically force himself to leave you alone with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back early.

Time seems to fly by, because when he finally reaches Jin’s after what he thought was a quick trip to the supermarket the sun hangs lower in the sky than when he’d left. Jin greets him at the door, as he comes through bags in hand, before he rushes to the kitchen. To his surprise Namjoon is here, and he offers a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, taking note of the way Namjoon is dressed up.

“Jin and I have dates in the human realm, thought it’d be easier to catch a ride with him.” Namjoon says with a shrug.

“Aren’t you afraid of biting them?”

“You’d be surprised how many humans are into that.” Namjoon laughs, catching the look Jin gives him.

“Anyways, we have some time before we head out. I can help you if you need it.” Jin offers, tying an apron around his waist. Jungkook beams at the older, grateful for the help even though he’s determined to do all the work himself he’s more than happy his friends offer the help. The motions come easily, the dough and the filing are easy enough to do now after he has practiced. He makes a mental note to send Bunny a thank you gift and he supposes Yoongi too. Namjoon offers idle chit chat to fill the silence as he compliments the tart Jungkook had made all those days ago, saying how he’d been thinking about it often, he even goes far enough to say he would pay to have Jungkook make him one. The three of them laugh, Jin taking slight offence refusing to be upstaged by the youngest. Some odd hours later the tarts are done, one for you, one for Jin as thank you and one for Namjoon who looks more excited over the pastry than the date.

“Thanks for the tart, I hope she likes it.” Jin says as he locks his door leading Namjoon to his car. The drive home is a calming, classical music filling his ears as he lets his frenzied mind unwind. He thinks that he shouldn't be worried, he knows you and that is enough to finally calm the nervous flutter of butterflies in his tummy.

It would seem the butterflies have returned as Jungkook stands awkwardly on the porch, canvas bag in hand. His heart beats against his ribs too violently he’s afraid there’ll be bruising, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous in his whole life, perhaps it’s the holiday, truly he isn’t quite sure. He recalls Jimin saying that Valentine’s Day was made to celebrate love, while Yoongi said it was capitalism but he liked the thought of celebrating love better. Jungkook was a sap like that, and what better way to celebrate love than to give you something that he’d worked hard to make to show you, his one and only how much you meant to him? It’s this thought that finally frees the butterflies, setting them free from the confines of his belly taking his nervousness with them. Still he takes a deep breath before he finally enters his home.

“Hey you’re here!” you beam at him from down the hall. He takes in the dress you wear, something loose and flowery but still form fitting enough it hugs all his favorite parts. His gaze however remains on the apron you wear, something frilly and cutesy he’s never seen before.

“I am, are you cooking?” he asks, unable to help the way his tone fluctuates the slightest on the last word. There’s this bashful smile spreading your lips, tugging them upward ever so slightly it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I am, come and sit I’m almost done.” he does as he’s told, taking in the absolutely decadent scent of food. You fuss over him, taking the bag from him and setting it gently on the counter. He’s seated at the table chin resting on an open palm watching you work. It’s nice he thinks, especially seeing you dressed up for something as simple as dinner. Still it’s a welcomed change, a sudden furrow settling on his brow as he remembers you aren’t a particularly good cook and as such usually refrain from doing so.

“Hey, where’d you learn to cook?” he asks.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but if you must know I had Yoonji and Yoonji teach me how to make you something special.” you say shooting him a smirk over your shoulder, it stirs something in his belly something that he struggles to tamp down.

“Oh yeah, special occasion?” he teases with an easy smile.

“Just wanna spoil my man.”

“Hmm, lucky him, wonder where he’s at.” you gasp dramatically. Turning off the stove while pointing tongs at him.

“I do too, he’s very charming, cute smile, big, y'know all the things a girl likes?” she sighs as his cheeks pinken at the unexpected praise.

“You think I’m big?”

“Of course baby.” you simper, plating the food before cutting up the steak. He smirks as you saunter over placing the plate before him leaning up as you lean down to plant a soft kiss to his lips. He hums as you nibble at the skin of his lips, one of his hands moving to squeeze your hip before you pull away. You take your seat opposite of his, careful to remove the apron and setting it aside.

“Go ahead, dig in.” you say watching with rapt attention as he takes a bit of the steak and some greens. His gaze never leaves yours even as he takes a bite, letting the taste wash over his tongue. You smile so wide eyes sparkling as he groans, the savory bite of meat melts on his tongue, and he finally looks away.

“Oh god, what did they teach you?” he asks around a mouthful, quick to dig in as you giggle softly.

“Enough, Yoonji said you should be grateful she taught me well and that this was her one good deed for the year.” you laugh chewing the bite of steak. He nods his head, it seems he’ll be indebted to her.

“So this was the prior engagement Yoongi had mentioned.” he says more to himself than you.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, this is really good. My compliments to the chef.” He loves the way you smile at his compliments. The rest of dinner goes by much the same, the two of you exchanging teasing words in between bites and soon enough you're doing the dishes. You’re drying them as Jungkook rinses, resting comfortably close to one another when you spot the canvas bag that Jungkook had come home with.

“What’s in the bag?” you ask turning to look up at him taking the last dish from him to dry it.

“What bag?”

“The one you came home with, what’s in it?” you ask again as you dry your hands. He turns to see the bag, and suddenly he’s reminded of the tart.

“Oh, you go sit on the couch, it's a surprise.” he says spinning you in the direction of the couch smacking your ass playfully when you don’t budge. You flinch slightly as the mild sting, moving towards to take a seat on the couch as he says. It’s not long before he’s settling beside you as you look down at his hands to see a single slice of chocolate tart topped with whipped cream. Your brows furrow, lips twitching as you fight a smile.

“I made this for you, happy valentine’s day.” he says bashfully, chuckling softly when your gaze shoots up to meet his.

“Jungkook, you didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted too, besides it’s mostly self indulgent.” he whispers leaning into you to slot his lips against yours. He breathes in your sigh, tilting his head the slightest to deepen the kiss relishing in the taste of you before he pulls away.

“You taste like steak.” you giggle while he simply rests his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, well then I’d say we taste the same.” He pecks you once, twice, three times sighing when he finally pulls away taking the fork and bringing up a small portion of the tart to your lips.

“Open up baby.” he breaths eyes half lidded watching intently as your lips part ever so slightly wrapping around the pastry teeth scraping over the fork to catch every last bit. The rich taste of the chocolate washes over your tongue. You moan slightly blinking sluggishly as you savor the taste of the creamy filling parting your lips for more. Jungkook's pants feel tight as he feeds you more, each bite you take is more painful as he finally lets his mind wander. Let’s himself think of all those nasty little things he’d been holding back for a little too long.

“Need you baby.” he breathes, moving to take your bottom lip between his teeth. You whimper softly pressing yourself closer to him as much as you can. He’s quick to set the plate aside pulling you onto his lap, pulling you down by the hips so you can feel him press against you right where you need him. He swallows you gasp as he gently thrusts his hips up into you, teeth nipping at your lip again because he just needs to feel you.

“Want you Kook, please.” you murmur against his lips as he slowly trails them to your jaw and neck. He hums hands squeezing your thighs with a muffled groan as he slides them under the hem of your skirt, finger slipping into the waistband of your panties and giving a swift tug.

“Want these off baby.” you nod eagerly shakily sliding off his lap to quickly pull them off as he rids himself of his pants and boxers. His hands find your thighs again, squeezing as he pulls you to straddle his lap once more. Your fingers knot themselves in his hair, tugging slightly to tilt his face up for another kiss, mewling as he slides his fingers through your folds spreading your slick and rubbing your clit in small tight circles. You buck your hips as heat swirls in your belly, sighing shakily as his fingers dip into your heat.

“So wet for me, how bad d’you want it?” he breathes, nuzzling your cheek as your fingers tighten in his hair.

“So bad, kook plea- oh!” you squeal as his sinks a finger further into you, pumping it slowly as he eases in a second finger in beside it basking in the way you clench around them whimpering as you drop your hips with every upward stroke of his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just a little more, don’t wanna hurt you.” he sighs feeling his cock twitch as he thinks about being buried in your warmth.

“Need you, please.” Your hips grind into his palm crying out as he pulls his fingers from your heat, soothing you with soft bites to your shoulders.

“Shh, I got you, s’okay, ready for me?” he asks, not really expecting an answer. He spreads your arousal as he gives his cock a few pumps before he lines himself up to your opening.

“Deep breath okay, yeah just like that.” It’s a tight fit as he slowly pushes into your warmth, you groan into his ear at the stretch, twitching as he buries himself deeper. There are tears in your eyes as you clench around his girth, crying out as he grinds your hips into his. You can't take it, can almost taste your release as he continues to grind your hips into his as he whispers soft praise into your skin. His grip on your hips loosens, breath ragged as you continue to grind down on him feeling your walls flutter around his length. Your panting broken incomprehensible words, one’s he recognizes easily as your plea for help. His palm comes down on your ass, the sharp smack accompanied by your gasp when he thrusts into you. He only manages a few pumps of his hips before you wail, clenching around his cock so tightly it almost pains him to just sit and let you ride out the wave of your orgasm. Your body has grown slack against him, head buried in his neck as he rubs at your back.

“Are you tapping out on me?” he chuckles into your skin grunting as you twitch in his lap, squeezing your thighs closer.

“Gimme a sec.” you murmur sleepily, lips ghosting over the mole on his neck. He’ll give you all the time you need because you won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Happy valentines day, baby.” he growls when he feels you begin to rock your hips easily lifting you both off the couch and making his way to your bedroom.

“I can't, it's too much.” You cry.

“It’s okay, just a little more.” Jungkook reassures you softly.

“P-please s’too much.” The sob that you let out is whiny, bordering on distressed. Yoonji’s cheeks heat the longer she stands in the hallway, maybe she should’ve announced her entrance instead of barging in. Perhaps if she did she wouldn’t have walked in on you and Jungkook fucking in the kitched.

“That’s it, good girl, that’s perfect.” he sighs followed by your whine, and so Yoonji decided she should just leave. After all there was no use in interrupting if it meant being scarred by the image of her friends mid fuck. She definitely didn't need to see Jungkook’s tiny weiner, gross she thinks closing the door as gently as she can and leaving them blissfully unaware of her accidental presence.

“I hate cutting onion.” you cry when Jungkook cups your face and plants a few kisses to your lips.

“I know baby, but you wanted to learn.” he laughs as you grumble to yourself and he sweeps you up into a hug.

“So should we move on?” he asks, watching you nod excitedly, he’s equally excited to see what the future holds. It may have taken some time and more than ten ounces of semi sweet chocolate but eventually Jungkook learned that you would be the sweetest thing in his life.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #emm writes #an emm writes production #emms jungkook content #collab fic #x reader #bangtanedu #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbtsnet #tbh I might’ve dragged this on a little too much #this might be a clusterf*ck of a fic #long fic #mine writings #seriously I have no idea why it’s 12.4k #ah ranting in the tags as usual #read all the other fics they’re probably better than this #okay I’m done #hope you liked it and please excuse all the spelling mistakes

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une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir · 3 years

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random thoughts on jon connington’s chapters

This is part 2, part 1 can be found here.

The Griffin Reborn

Aegon and Danerys

The first part of this chapter details Jon Connington taking over his former castle Griffin's Roost as well as remembering how he lost the Battle of Stony Sept.

Some Daniella stans have cried about how the show made her bad (ahah she's already bad), by giving her Jon Connington's supposed endgame. I believe they're partially right. Jon Connington's thoughts on Stoney Sept are foreshadowing of the burning of King's Landing, but of Danerys doing it.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

He had lost it all at Stoney Sept, in his arrogance. (...)

And so he swept down on Stoney Sept, closed off the town, and began a search. (...) The townsfolk were hiding him. They moved him from one secret bolt-hole to the next, always one step ahead of the king's men. The whole town was a nest of traitors. At the end they had the usurper hidden in a brothel. What sort of king was that, who would hide behind the skirts of women? Yet whilst the search dragged on, Eddard Stark and Hoster Tully came down upon the town with a rebel army. Bells and battle followed, and Robert emerged from his brothel with a blade in hand, and almost slew Jon on the steps of the old sept that gave the town its name.

For years afterward, Jon Connington told himself that he was not to blame, that he had done all that any man could do. His soldiers searched every hole and hovel, he offered pardons and rewards, he took hostages and hung them in crow cages and swore that they would have neither food nor drink until Robert was delivered to him. All to no avail.

Bobby B was very much loved by the people in general, in fact that's the whole thing with Stoney Sept. The townsfolk hid him because they loved him, despite the violence inflicted towards them. As Connington says, they endured everything for Bobby B's sake, they rebuffed bribes and they endured executions, even a hunger strike. Not one turned traitor, not one turned over Bobby B. Such we have a town hiding a "ruler" they love.

As a side-note, in the books the bells tolled to warn the citizens of the battle and to persuade them to stay inside their houses. It was a statement, marking a rebellion against the invading force and not a surrender signal. I believe it's in the show that is said, bells ring for dead kings, weddings (bride of fire, meaning biurning shit), and the beginning of war (this was waaay before they came up with the accident that is season 8).

Daenerys IV ~ ACOK

(second stanza) A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. (...) A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. (...) A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly.

Epilogue ~ AFFC

Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. (...) He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."

Aegon (who's associated with boats, the Shy Maid) will be loved, he's the cloth dragon the people are cheering for (it doesn't mean he's fake, LMAO) and Danerys will burn King's Landing in retalliation. Like Cersei Lannister ended up "loved" in the penultime episode of the show, when she took the townsfolk inside the Red Keep. Forced, I know, but that's what they depicted and what Daniella thought just before she burned them all, the townsfolk preferred Cersei to Daniella. And we highly suspect show!Cersei took book!Aegon's role, such it will be him that will be sitting in King's Landing in the books.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

"Tywin Lannister himself could have done no more," he had insisted one night to Blackheart, during his first year of exile.

"There is where you're wrong," Myles Toyne had replied. "Lord Tywin would not have bothered with a search. He would have burned that town and every living creature in it. Men and boys, babes at the breast, noble knights and holy septons, pigs and whores, rats and rebels, he would have burned them all.

he would have burned them all.

This is Bran's prophetic visions in sequence, linking Drogon, flying over King's Landing, then an "equivalence" between Aerys saying "burn them all" and Danerys with Drogon.

It's also worth mentionioning for the milionth of time, that "Daenerys" is is an anagram for "Aerys End", you know the guy who wanted to burn King's Landing to the ground instead of letting beloved by the people Bobby B take the throne.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

He was not wrong, Jon Connington reflected, leaning on the battlements of his forebears. I wanted the glory of slaying Robert in single combat, and I did not want the name of butcher.

Daenerys IV ~ ADWD

Dany was appalled. He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. "Do you take me for the Butcher King?"

"Better the butcher than the meat. All kings are butchers. Are queens so different?" (...)

What have I done? she thought, huddled in her empty bed. I have waited so long for him to come back, and I send him away. "He would make a monster of me," she whispered, "a butcher queen." But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters.

Danerys accepting her dragon side, which haappens at the end of ADWD and this is why she manages to ride Drogon, is directly connected to being a monster, a butcher. This is word play that translated to the show as well.

GoT 7x02 - Stormborn

DAENERYS picks up a dragon figurine from the table.

DAENERYS: If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already.~

TYRION: Conquering Westeros would be easy for you. But you're not here to be queen of the ashes.

DAENERYS: No.

DAENERYS puts down the dragon figurine.

TYRION: We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse. If the great houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won.

Danerys clothes when she burned King's Landing have red staining the skirt, like a butcher's apron stained with blood as he works.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

"Wait, I say. Gather our power, win some small lords to our cause, let Lysono Maar dispatch his spies to learn what we can learn of our foes."

Connington gave the plump captain-general a cool look. This man is no Blackheart, no Bittersteel, no Maelys. He would wait until all seven hells were frozen if he could rather than risk another bout of blisters. "We did not cross half the world to wait. Our best chance is to strike hard and fast, before King's Landing knows who we are.

In the show, Danerys is impatient to attack King's Landing, she doesn't want to wait, and has to be convinced REPEATEDLY to not "strike hard and fast". And in one of them, Daenerys and butchering linked together makes yet another appearance (the script above).

Aegon the Conqueror

Maegor the Cruel

Danerys the Butcher. Bitch deserves it.

Aegon and Jon Connington

In the second part of the chapter, Aegon arrives at the Griffin's Roost and Connington and Aegon discuss the attack on Storm's End.

Sansa VII ~ ASOS

The Broken Tower was easier still. They made a tall tower together, kneeling side by side to roll it smooth, and when they'd raised it Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. "That was unchivalrously done, my lady."

"As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home."

She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

A solid man, and true, Connington thought as he watched Duck dismount, but not worthy of the Kingsguard. He had tried his best to dissuade the prince from giving Duckfield that cloak, pointing out that the honor might best be held in reserve for warriors of greater renown whose fealty would add luster to their cause, and the younger sons of great lords whose support they would need in the coming struggle, but the boy would not be moved. "Duck will die for me if need be," he had said, "and that's all I require in my Kingsguard. The Kingslayer was a warrior of great renown, and the son of a great lord as well."

At least I convinced him to leave the other six slots open, else Duck might have six ducklings trailing after him, each more blindingly adequate than the last. "Escort His Grace to my solar," he commanded. "At once."

Prince Aegon Targaryen was not near as biddable as the boy Young Griff had been, however. The better part of an hour had passed before he finally turned up in the solar, with Duck at his side. "Lord Connington," he said, "I like your castle."

"Your father's lands are beautiful," he said. His silvery hair was blowing in the wind, and his eyes were a deep purple, darker than this boy's. "As do I, Your Grace. Please, be seated. Ser Rolly, we'll have no further need of you for now."

"No, I want Duck to stay." The prince sat. "We've been talking with Strickland and Flowers. They told us about this attack on Storm's End that you're planning."

Jon Connington did not let his fury show. "And did Homeless Harry try to persuade you to delay it?"

"He did, actually," the prince said, "but I won't. Harry's an old maid, isn't he? You have the right of it, my lord. I want the attack to go ahead … with one change. I mean to lead it."

As I said in the part 1 of this series, there are many parallels between Aegon's story and Sansa's story. One is a future event, where Sansa and Aegonwill escape the toxic mentors that pose as their fake parent (even if Connington isn't 1/10 as bad as Littlefinger).

In Sansa's case, this most likely will happen when she flees north if "Sansa is Grey Girl" theory holds true (and it happened in the show, moreover this is a parallel she has with Arya and Bran as well, both will also have to flee their toxic mentors soon) and she'll grow more independent from Pedofinger as she regains her identity as Sansa Stark and with her cousin (and the North) by her side.

In Aegon's case, we can see that he's already more indepedent than he used to be (it all started when he stepped up at the Golden Company higher-ups and convinced them to fight for him and his cause). Connington suggests this is because the boy is now Aegon Targaryen and no longer Young Griff, in other words Aegon is growing more confident the more he regains his identity.I suspect that like Sansa, Aegon will grow even more confident with his cousin Arianne (and Dorne) by his side.

Sansa II ~ AGOT

When Sansa finally looked up, a man was standing over her, staring. He was short, with a pointed beard and a silver streak in his hair, almost as old as her father. "You must be one of her daughters," he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. "You have the Tully look."

Sansa VII ~ AGOT

"I won't." He sounded almost like Marillion, the night he'd gotten so drunk at the wedding. Only this time Lothor Brune would not appear to save her; Ser Lothor was Petyr's man. "You shouldn't kiss me. I might have been your own daughter . . ."

"Might have been," he admitted, with a rueful smile. "But you're not, are you? You are Eddard Stark's daughter, and Cat's. But I think you might be even more beautiful than your mother was, when she was your age."

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

But when Jon Connington stepped out onto the high battlements, the view was just as intoxicating as he remembered: the crag with its wind-carved rocks and jagged spires, the sea below growling and worrying at the foot of the castle like some restless beast, endless leagues of sky and cloud, the wood with its autumnal colors. "Your father's lands are beautiful," Prince Rhaegar had said, standing right where Jon was standing now. And the boy he'd been had replied, "One day they will all be mine." As if that could impress a prince who was heir to the entire realm, from the Arbor to the Wall. (...)

"Lord Connington," he said, "I like your castle."

Pedofinger and Ebonington. Leave the children alone! *screams*

#aegon VI targaryen

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beautifulletdownfics · 4 years

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Sail The Widest Stretch || Part Seven

Part Seven - It’s Not Small, It’s Just Trivial

Go here for story menu including further links to things like playlist & mood boards.

Read Part 1 Here Read Part 2 Here Read Part 3 Here Read Part 4 Here Read Part 5 Here Read Part 6 Here ++

Part Seven - It’s Not Small, It’s Just Trivial

Harry wakes up the morning after his birthday drinks to an empty bed.

It's just before 8am, and his skull pulsates painfully with a hangover the size of an elephant, he scrunches his face together at the sour taste of stale liquor on his tongue. Harry rolls over to reach for his phone on the bedside table and finds himself squinting at a bottle of water, a packet of ibuprofen and two sachets of electrolyte drink. Harry doesn't remember putting any of that there when he finally made it to bed the night before. Technically, earlier that morning.

Amelia is the first person he thinks of, it has to have been her. But he can't quite piece together the end of the night, and he's not sure why she's not here with him. He remembers her arriving with the rainbow birthday cake, watching her drink with his football mates, and a handsy moment alone in the bathroom downstairs at some point … Then the night ends in his mind.

Harry feels like shit, and the hangover is making him panic about the possibility he upset Amelia in some way the night before. Without thinking beyond that, he thumbs through his phone, hits her name and holds it up to his ear eagerly.

"Good morning, Captain Fun," Her voice breaks through the dial tone, "How are you feeling this morning."

Harry shuts his eyes in relief—she sounds normal—and smiles like an idiot into his iPhone, "I named myself Captain Fun, didn't I?"

Amelia laughs, "You did. When you go downstairs, there's a t-shirt in one of the pot plants that you threw away after you spent a good twenty minutes with a Sharpie writing your new title on the front … You spelt Captain wrong though … I’ve never seen you swear like that, Harry."

"I get passionate when I'm tipsy," He attempts to explain. His body is reacting to her voice, and he's trying very hard not to think about the birthday sex he feels he missed out on. All week Harry’d been planning the things he’d to do her when they were finally alone. His drunk arse spoiled that, it seems.

"Trust me," Amelia says lowly, telling Harry she's not at home or in private, "I know all about Passionate Harry … But last night you weren't tipsy, you were completely plastered. I'm surprised you're awake before noon."

He rolls over onto his tummy, watching the light stream in from the window behind his bed, "If I was that far gone, I can't believe you'd leave me here alone to potentially drown in my own vomit."

"I couldn't stay … I'm heading to Bristol today," Amelia explains softly, "Helping out my gran with a few things."

"You definitely told me that last night," Harry said through a groan, "Sorry, I can remember trying to change your mind with sexual favours."

"They were very tempting," Amelia placated.

"I apologise for being a bit thick half a dozen jello shots in," Harry apologises through a smile, "Are you already on your way to Bristol?"

"Not yet," She sounds distracted, but Harry can't make out the noises in the background, "Picking up a few things before I get the 10am train."

"Can I come?" Harry bites down on his thumb as soon as the words leave his mouth.

For god's sake, you're absolutely deranged, he thinks.

Amelia pauses in the supermarket. She's staring at the orange she just picked up and isn't sure why her heart is racing. Harry's so uninhibited and unbothered by inviting himself along to her grandmother's house like it's something they might do every Sunday. She's hesitating because it feels like something she can't take back. Amelia can image her Gran loving Harry, and she knows how happy it would make her to meet one of Amelia's friends. But at the same time something inside her screams no, this isn't the plan, this isn't how you keep things Just Sex. Harry might be able to keep lines drawn amongst nieces and grandparents and birthdays, but Amelia isn't sure she can anymore. It only works if Amelia doesn't share too much of herself, how much Harry shares of himself is entirely on him.

"Don't sweat over it, Meils," Harry says gently, giving her an out, "I know your Gran is special to you, you don't have to share her."

Amelia clamps her eyes closed, damn guilt right to hell, "No, you can come. I was just thinking … But you should come. If you'd like to."

The list of Things Amelia Shouldn't Have Agreed To But Did Anyway only seems to grow. (Really, Amelia's thinking that she was going to tell her Gran about her Potential, Maybe New Job being announced this week and how Amelia's moved passed being scared she won't get it and is now almost certain she will but that she'll suck at it in some way. If Harry comes, she'll have to call her Gran separately during the week to tell her about it, which is probably the smartest thing to do anyway, wait until the announcement is actually made on Monday or Tuesday)

"You're sure?"

No, Amelia thinks, I'm entirely unsure.

"Yeah, I mean, it won't be super fun, and I really do have a list of jobs to do, but you can come," Amelia's looking around Waitrose hoping to catch someone's eye so she can have a Holy Shit, I Think Harry's Coming To Bristol With Me Moment. But nobody's watching her.

Harry sits up in bed, "I can help with the list. What train did you say you were getting?"

"10am from Paddington, can you make it?"

"I'll be there."

Harry kisses her on the train platform.

She's got three supermarket bags with her, and a fourth bag full of empty peanut butter jars. Harry's starting to get used to seeing Amelia in jeans and a jumper, and he doesn't think there's anything as fun as tangling his fingers through the layers of her clothing to get to warm skin. (Maybe seeing her in a pantsuit on a weekday and knowing he'll get to be the one to pull apart her Especially Put Together Outfit comes close. Maybe.) She leans into his chest, and Harry likes the way her fingers latch around his elbows and hold him in place. He steals a second kiss because he can.

The night before, Amelia arrived on his front door with a rainbow cake, two bottles of champagne and wearing a short, leather skirt so sinful Harry really did have to avert his eyes. She wore it with dark tights and a sheer, lace see-through top that meant everyone could see the black lingerie she had on underneath. Harry spent most of the night following her around his house with his gaze, glaring at his mates if they looked too friendly or got too close to her.

It was Amelia's fault he got so wasted he could barely locate his own face. She chatted to his friend's girlfriends in that way women do that makes you fear they've secretly known each other years, and she even managed to charm Rick, the guy from work nobody really likes but invites to everything anyway. Three different friends told Harry that he needed to hurry up and lock Amelia down before she realised exactly how out of his league she is and finds herself a European billionaire. He spent a lot of the night sulking in the kitchen corner, arms crossed over his chest as he double-parked jello shots and beer.

(Really, it was a night full of Harry accepting drink after drink as friends came and went on their ways to other parties, he spent all night doing laps making sure he'd thanked everyone for coming, and any time Harry could manage it, he got his hands on Amelia in whatever way he could)

Now, Amelia's standing in front of him looking fresh-faced and beautiful, but Harry feels like one convincing rattle from the train carriage and he might be reacquainted with the Greggs' sausage roll he wolfed down on the way to meet her.

Pull it together, Harry.

"Good morning," He smiles, picking up as many of her bags as he can. He bites his lip through the look of surprise on her face at the final, lingering kiss Harry's decided she's just going to have to get used to.

They find their seats, and she sits opposite him, which isn't ideal, but Harry winds their legs together and decides he's going to be taking a mile from her today. She never would have invited him to Bristol, not in a million years, but now that he's coming Harry's planning on worming even deeper in. He leans forward, puts his hand up and curls his index finger towards himself, waits for Amelia to be close enough and then takes absolute delight in making out with her for the first ten minutes of the journey.

"You're much chirpier than I expected," Amelia crosses one leg over the other and settles back into her seat. She’s flushed. Harry watches her tuck her hair back neatly around her neck, he can’t say he’s sorry for his fingers having messed it up to begin with.

"Someone left me a little survival kit on my bedside table …"

Amelia pulls her face into a surprised grin, "What a thoughtful soul."

"Hmm," Harry runs a hand over the back of his head, and she sees how tired he is, "Unfortunately the older I get, the less I'm able to sleep off hangovers. I have to live through every minute of them now, I miss my twenties. Your little concoction helped though, thank you."

"You looked like you were having a good time," She says softly, watching as London whirls passed outside, "Your mates always made sure there was a drink in your hand."

"The way birthdays should be."

Amelia nods. They fall quiet.

"Tell me about your Gran," Harry says, hating himself for having to fill the silence. Amelia looks peaceful and serene but Harry's full of a nervous sort of energy he's not fond of. He's got the wolfish smiles of his mates in his head from the night before, all laying into him about the way Harry is so completely gone for Amelia yet hasn't managed to manufacture anything concrete between them. The grandmother feels like a step in the right direction.

"Her name is Margaret," Amelia starts slowly, "But she likes Maggie or Gran."

He asks his next question carefully, "She was your mum's mum?"

Amelia nods once, "Yeah. My mum was a war baby, Vietnam."

Harry senses Amelia's not up for Dead Parent Talk on a Sunday morning, "And you have a list for today?"

"I do, and there'll probably be a few things taped to the fridge. Mainly errands and things around the house Gran can't manage on her own anymore. The good thing about you coming is you can distract her while I do everything," Amelia smiles and Harry feels it in his chest, "Otherwise she follows me around and tries to help."

Amelia watches Harry launch into a story about his own grandparents, and she can almost ignore the voice in her head telling her to tread very carefully with this. Happiness seems to flow out of him so easily, and he's so generous in giving it away. Despite herself, she spends most of the hour and a half train journey laughing with Harry. He tells Amelia countless stories from adventures he's had with Gemma and her kids. Harry adores his sister and her children, and it strikes Amelia as refreshing to watch a man wax poetic about a barrage of things—and people—he loves. She'd grown used to the conversations about investment portfolios or boy’s trips to Vegas men seemed to think women are interested in hearing about. Amelia likes hearing about Harry taking his niece to Harry Potter World or spending a Saturday afternoon making paper machete masks with her.

"I haven't been to Bristol since I was about ten," Harry says as they walk out of the train station at the end of the journey. The air is cold but he feels invigorated by it.

He's following Amelia who knows the best exit for them, and he's ended up carrying most of the bags. She's got a list of places to stop on the way to her Gran's house, and Harry gets the idea by the end of it they'll both likely have an armful of bits and pieces. He doesn't mind, Harry likes feeling useful to her.

Their first stop is to a small deli where Amelia buys half a dozen pastries and a small cut of lamb for a roast. Harry sees buckets of flowers and decides to buy a bunch for her Gran, he can feel his cheeks go red when Amelia watches him without making a comment. A little further up the street, Amelia buys a loaf of bread and the latest edition of Hello Magazine along with a packet of caramel chews.

They stop outside a cafe, and Amelia calls his name when Harry keeps trudging up the stone road, "If you need a coffee this is the last stop, it's only tea from here."

Harry's nodding his head before Amelia's stopped speaking, "Coffee would be good for my hangover, yes please."

Inside, he leaves Amelia at a table by the window with the bags while goes up to order. When he comes back with two cappuccinos, Amelia burns her mouth taking the first sip because Harry pulls his chair around to virtually sit on top of her. He takes a big sniff of her fancy lemon perfume and settles into the space right beside her. Amelia worries he'll notice she didn't put on more than a tinted moisturiser before leaving home this morning. It’s the last thing he’d thinking about when Harry pulls her toward him by her neck and kisses her slow and sweet.

"You're cute when you're flustered," He tells her, seeing the red on her cheeks but thinking that he prefers her blushing post-orgasm.

"My Gran's going to be so happy I've brought you with me," Amelia says instead.

Harry grins, "I'm always a hit. She's going to love me."

"She will," Amelia agrees with him, watching Harry spill sugar all over the table trying to measure out the biggest spoonful he can, "She thinks I'm lonely."

"You are," Harry says honestly, without hesitation, "You don't let people look after you and you should."

"I'm not lonely, I'm…"

I'm alone, is what she wants to say. Or that she's got people in her life she can dip in and out of. There’s only so much you can ask of your friends though … She’s got a few really great friends and really what Harry needs to realise that up until very recently he wasn't one of them, even if he thought he was. Now though, Amelia's not sure if Friends Who Fuck is a badge either of them should be particularly proud of, not when Harry seems hell-bent on acting like More. She makes a mental note to miss the quiz this week and avoid Harry next weekend. Amelia needs to start floating some distance between them. The irony of deciding this just as she's about to walk Harry into her grandmother's house doesn't evade her.

"Answer one question honestly," Harry puts his cappuccino down and pins Amelia with his gaze, "What do you crave most in the world?"

"What do I crave the most?" She repeats slowly, worried he's somehow got wind about her potential promotion from Hannah, "Like … In regard to what? Work? Or general life? I don't think it's possible to just have one thing, is it?"

"I think it is, yeah," Harry tells her simply. "My job is part of my life, but … I guess it's up to you where it sits in your pecking order."

This girl needs to think about her life outside of the office, he thinks.

Amelia knows he wants her to think about her life away from the context of her career. Because even though Harry's done tremendously well for himself, he's been gifted with the kind of disposition that doesn't hold a lot of weight to where he is on the corporate ladder. Amelia would be willing to bet Harry was well-liked and respected at work without having had to overly insert himself or push forward his own agenda. He's smart and personable.

And male, Amelia thinks, Harry's not had to toe the line between being authoritative and labelled just plain bossy.

Amelia feels her face heat, she's really not sure what her answer should be. She's happy with the things she can control and isn't sure anything else matters much. What does she crave most in the world? She craves a do-over, a rewind. Amelia wants to go back five years and not end up an orphan.

"I don't know," She mumbles, "Never thought of it."

Harry leans his elbow on the table and shrugs to himself, "I want everyone to like me. Makes me a pathetic people pleaser a lot of the time."

"Good thing you're so likeable."

He doesn't return her smile, Harry's trying to get a real moment out of her. Perhaps it was too much to ask today, she's already allowing him into her (microscopic) family life. Maybe it was too much to hope Amelia might share a dream, or tell him that what she craves the most is love. Harry has a right mind to tell her he knows what she craves the most, even if Amelia doesn't.

Love. Amelia needs love.

Amelia rings the doorbell but doesn't wait for anyone to answer.

"It's me!" She yells through the small cottage, pointing to where Harry can take his shoes off inside the door, "I've brought someone with me."

When Harry follows her down the small hallway and to a crowded sitting-room he feels like he's a kid again, it's such a grandparent's house. Every surface has some trinket or memory-laden knick-knack, and there are photographs and newspaper clippings everywhere. Harry smells half a dozen different amazing scents including the beginnings of the marmalade Amelia's empty peanut butter jars are for, and something else he thinks might be potatoes roasting.

"Oh hello," Huddled under a lamp in the corner, knitting needles poised, sits Amelia's Gran, watching Harry with interest through her small, round glasses, “Welcome! I'm Maggie, come sit down, love, let me get a look at you."

Amelia presses a kiss to her Gran's cheek and rolls her eyes good-naturedly at Harry immediately taking all the attention. He laps it up, beams so wide at her grandmother Amelia's worried he'll pull a muscle. Harry introduces himself, and Amelia hears them chatting about how he knows Amelia while she puts away a few things in the kitchen. There are roast veggies in the oven and three huge pots on the stove, all simmering away with the beginnings of marmalade. Amelia takes a minute to season the lamb roast she's brought for lunch and adds it to the oven.

"I told you I'd do the vegetables," Amelia sits on the arm of her Gran's chair. Harry's deposited himself on the sofa opposite, his knees comically high. He's the tallest person to sit on that couch since her father, Amelia thinks. Her dad used to disappear into the faded upholstery as well. "Harry's hungover, Gran, it was his birthday party last night."

"Oh! Happy birthday!" She croons, Harry gives Amelia a dirty look for throwing him under the bus, but his attention goes back to the older lady as she continues to speak to him, "We'll make a cake, you have to have a cake. How old?"

"Thirty two," Harry looks at Amelia and smiles softly, "And Amelia already made me a cake, actually."

"I've not failed with her then," Gran says, "Still, we'll make you one today too … A nice sponge, don't you think, Amelia? You like sponge, don't you, Harry?"

And that was that. Amelia watches the two of them stand up together and move into the kitchen, bowls and cake pans are pulled out of the back of cupboards Amelia can't remember seeing opened in years. She leaves them, removes the list of jobs off the fridge and takes it with her into the garden where she starts watering the pot plants. If Harry entertains her Gran in the kitchen, Amelia might get a good bit of the way through the errands and little things around the house that need to be seen to.

She starts with the few that require internet, sets up a direct debit and updates something with the council that, for whatever reason, can't be done over the phone. Amelia sits in the front room and detangles three silver necklaces that are a bit too dainty for Gran's hands before she starts taking down all the clocks off the walls and winding them back an hour for daylight's saving. Every now and again Amelia walks back through the kitchen and has to fawn over how uniformed Harry's orange rind squares are for the marmalade or pretend she can taste the difference between the pot with nutmeg and the pot without. Harry's gangly frame takes up a considerable proportion of the kitchen as he Googles recipe amendments and asks her Gran about her life. She's never thought before that her Gran might have missed having company other than Amelia and the folk from church, but watching her laughing with Harry and patiently teaching him to skin oranges plays at something like guilt in Amelia's gut.

Later, Harry finds her up a step ladder in the spare room, not blinking at all at the frilly apron he's been given to keep his clothes clean, "Look at you up there, you're quite handy," he observes.

"Yeah," Amelia shoots him a look under her arm, her hair falling over her face, "Got to make up for not being a grandson."

He tilts his head to one side and gives her a look, "That lovely lady in there thinks the sun shines out of your arse, Miss Miller, don't for a second think a penis would help you any."

When a snappy retort doesn't come quickly enough, Amelia simply shrugs and comes down from the step, "How's your second birthday cake coming along?"

"It's coming along nicely, we're about to start potting up the marmalade for the church fete next week," Harry's eyebrows have risen up his forehead. He's taken a tone that might as well say he's on the Special Condiments Committee for Church Fetes now, "We wondered if you might like to come have a cuppa? I think the word 'surly' was thrown around to describe you …"

"She said I'm surly?"

Harry merely holds his hands out in question, a brilliant smile on his face. Amelia thinks she'd like to kiss him. Or burst into tears. He's standing in the tiny bedroom she slept in a hundred nights as a kid when her parents went out, or later when staying with her Gran on the weekend felt like a form of pre-teen rebellion … But Harry's standing in the doorway of this room Amelia never thought he'd ever be in and he's exuding this happiness Amelia likes the taste of but knows she can't afford to develop a palette for.

She doesn't have a childhood bedroom anymore, but if she did this would be it. This small terrace house in south Bristol with sagging foundations and peeling wallpaper holds the entire sum of Amelia's parts. It's this house that's home now, not the one thirty minutes away Amelia rents out for half of what it's worth to a family with twin girls and parents who are still alive. Her history and two generations into her future are in this little cottage, and Amelia never imagined sharing it with anyone else.

Somehow having Harry standing with a smile as loud as a brass band and an almost sticky, buoyant hope makes Amelia sad, and angry, and fills her with a longing she's not felt in years. And it's a longing that's oddly unfamiliar as well because it's not for her parents. That's a feeling Amelia has worn to pieces and knowns the flavour of from just a whiff; yearning for her mother's touch or her father's whimsical humour. But this longing for a human that's standing in front of her is new. All Amelia knows is it feels dangerous.

"Tea?" Harry asks, wondering what world stole Amelia from his.

"Please," She nods uneasily, unable to stop herself from reaching out and touching his hand as she walks past him, "After that, we should go to the supermarket, I can get some extra stuff if you come and help me carry bags back."

Harry ends up going to the Tesco down the street by himself.

He leaves Amelia and her Gran in the kitchen labelling marmalade jars and listening to a Christmas CD. Neither of them seems worried it's February and Harry likes the oddity of it. On the walk, he calls his sister to apologise for missing Sunday night dinner because he's in Bristol with Amelia. If he thought Gemma might let him off the hook because of who he was with Harry really had another thing coming. What was supposed to be a quick call ended up taking almost the entire shopping trip, with Gemma in his ear telling him he was a bloody idiot for letting his situation with Amelia continue as it had been. Gemma was solidly in the Talk About It Camp, and she'd recruited her husband and the rest of Harry's family. The humiliation alone at having his dad and step-mum know anything about Harry’s sex life was enough to make him physically sweat. Twice he had to tell his sister to be quiet so he could focus on the brand names to make sure he got the right canned sweet corn. That only seemed to give her time to formulate the next parts of her impassioned speech.

There was no way to defend himself. There was no good reason why Harry hadn't initiated a conversation about what he and Amelia were. (Other than him being spineless) The truth was that if Amelia was anyone else, he probably would have already told her he loved her. Which Harry knows isn't something he should wear as any sort of badge of honour. (He's always fallen in love too quickly, but Harry knows Amelia really is deserving of the fall. She's the right sort to be in love with, even his sister knows it)

But it's true. Harry's in love with her. Likely been in love with her for a long time now, it’s not like he needed a lot of convincing. Probably had a little thing for her when he first met her at Uni and then that little thing grew into a slightly bigger thing, and then Amelia's parents died and Harry probably buried it too. Then years and alcohol and hormones and one moment on the street outside Sloane Square led to the kiss that led to Everything Else. And now it might be love.

He knows Amelia though, and Harry knows if he tells Amelia he loves her she'll throw it back in his face. In fact, there's not a scenario he can come up with that doesn't end with her throwing it back in his face. Because while Harry's not saying what he feels because he feels too much, Amelia hasn't brought up the State of Things because, for her, there simply isn't anything to speak of. It's Just Sex to her. And that should make Harry feel terrible about himself, but it doesn't, because he also knows that Amelia just needs time to be taught she's deserving—and in need—of love. But until then, Harry's…

He's royally screwed.

Rock, welcome to the hard place.

After lunch, Amelia tries very hard not to admire Harry's bum.

He's pulled the actual ladder out of the garage and has it propped up the landing stairs—balancing precariously over the railing between the two storeys—fixing a light bulb that died years ago but Amelia hasn't been able to reach. She's not sure how he discovered the blown globe, as if he went around the house testing all the light switches (although it now seems like he will to make sure there aren't others he can fix), but her Gran is standing in the hallway beaming at the scene before her. Harry got altogether too invested in the marmalade process and now seems to have taken ownership of the handyman tasks Amelia does her best to attend to herself. He's got the list hanging out his back pocket and is dusting the light fixture as well, just because he's up there.

"I haven't seen my stairs in almost half a decade," Gran says joyfully when the light flicks back to life, "That might've been a good thing judging by the state of the carpet," She adds under her breath.

"We'll vacuum them before we leave," Harry assures her, "Coming down."

Amelia peels back from the bottom of the ladder just in time for Harry to descend them, whoever sold him those blue jeans deserves a plaque in their honour. Or Amelia should thank whoever first encouraged Harry to work on his squats. Regardless, his body is distracting in the most perfect way. She's torn between being annoyed they're not at her place in London and being thankful they're aren't. Sex would not help sort out her head right now, despite the release of nervous energy it would provide.

Sex with Harry is what got her into this mess to begin with. It was just a shame he was so damn good at it.

"Amelia."

"Hmm?" She blinks at Harry who's said her name.

"Off with the fairies," Harry rolls his eyes dramatically at her Gran.

Gran laughs far too loudly, shaking her head at them both, "I'm going to put the kettle on."

She leaves the room, and Harry turns to Amelia with the list in his hand, "Can you show me which tap is leaking?"

Amelia raises her eyebrows at him, "Are you qualified to do that?"

He rolls his eyes at her again, "I know how to change a washer, Amelia, show me the tap."

She shows him to the bathroom upstairs, and Harry fixes the tap in less than fifteen minutes. Amelia stands in the bathroom doorway watching him, his teeth folded up over his top lip and his forehead creased in concentration. He found a spanner in the garage when he got the ladder, and that seemed to be all Harry needed. Amelia never would have guessed Harry was handy like this.

"My granddad taught me," Harry says when he catches Amelia's impressed expression, "When my mum was sick … Gem and I spent a lot of time with our grandparents so dad could be with her at the hospital. I guess this kind of stuff was important to that generation? Granddad used to say 'a young lad needs to do things with his hands, to keep him out of trouble'."

"Did it?" Amelia asks, "Did it keep you out of trouble."

"Yeah, there was always something to fix when we'd go over there," Harry nods, a smile breaks out over his face, "Sometimes I think he might've deliberately broken something or put it back together wrong just so I'd have something to do … Made me feel useful, I guess, when I couldn't do anything to help with mum."

Amelia pulls her hands up into her sleeves uneasily, "I can't imagine what you went through back then," She says, Harry keeps fiddling with the tap and doesn't look at her, "I can't imagine … I mean, watching your mum get sick and knowing she was going to die. I can’t imagine,” she repeats when the right words don’t come.

"It sucked," Harry agrees slowly, "But in a strange way … We had time to say goodbye, and I've got really precious memories of those last few months. Finding out she was sick and then the treatment not working … That was worse. The start of her being sick was horrible. But once it was terminal, mum was like, at peace with it I guess? It fucking sucked, and at the time I was an angry kid, but now I think … I have a lot of peace with it, and I think it comes from how my mum said goodbye."

"Eleven is so young to lose your mum, though," Amelia sniffs quietly and tries to wipe away a tear without Harry noticing, "I couldn't have watched someone I love die."

Harry wipes down the tap and nods at her patiently, "Guess it didn't feel like that at the time," He says clearly, "My family used to say we were being given extra time."

Both of them think about how Harry's experience with the death of his mother differs from Amelia's loss of her parents. Harry wants to tell her he feels like he can’t complain about getting to say goodbye to his mother when Amelia just got a phone call telling her both her parents were dead. Just like that. No final moments, no goodbyes. They didn’t even make it to hospital. There was no nearly miracle surgery or a chance of recovery. There was a single moment where two lives ended.

Still, when Amelia doesn't offer it up as the next topic of discussion, Harry knows better than to push it himself. Amelia's happy with herself for keeping her mouth shut.

On the train back to London, Amelia falls asleep on his shoulder.

Harry reads a book on his phone and when his mind starts wandering too much, turns to face the window to watch the sunset over the countryside. The journey goes quickly, and just when Harry starts thinking he'll need to wake her up Amelia stirs next to him.

"You kept saying my name in your sleep," Harry teases, catching Amelia's phone when it slips off her lap and goes hurtling towards the floor, "Sounded like a pretty sexy dream."

"That's a lie," She rasps, stretching out her back and pulling her arms up over her head.

Harry's fingers automatically dart to trace the slither of skin that appears between her jeans and her jumper, he draws them up her back and then down again. He's well and truly ready to be somewhere private and alone with her.

"You're really fucking beautiful, you know that?" Harry tells her, watches her face for whatever comes over it. She screws up her features at him, "Don't make a face, you are."

"Thanks, Harry," Amelia says to pacify him.

He doesn't know what they'll do now. He'd like to come home with her or invite Amelia to his house. But something about her tone right now makes Harry sweat a little. She's being curt, not a trace of sweetness to her.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" He asks.

"I've got stuff for dinner at home," She tells him quietly, reorganising a few things in her handbag as the train pulls into Paddington. There's not an invite for Harry to join her. He coughs into his hand, awkwardly.

"Wagamama's on me?" Harry tries again, knowing there's one around the corner from her place. He's panicking.

Amelia looks at her watch. It's just gone 8pm, and she is hungry. But Harry's looking at her like he knows he's starting to change Amelia's mind and that bothers her.

"I'm sorry, I can't," She tells him, "I still have washing to do at home, and I'm away Tuesday night. Thanks … Thanks for today, though. For fixing the tap and the light and the marmalade …"

Amelia doesn't know how to finish the sentence. They're standing outside Paddington station now, and Harry looks utterly miserable she's not going to dinner with him. She tells herself he's annoyed he won't be getting laid. Missed out the night before at his birthday and now spent all day with her but she's not putting out. The lie about Harry being less than a great guy is easier to swallow than the truth of Amelia being a shit friend.

"I'll get my cab to drop you off," Harry says, lifting his hand into the night sky to flag down a car.

"I can get my own," Amelia starts to say, but she shuts her mouth when Harry turns back to her, a cab pulling up in front of them.

"Humour me," Harry says with a straight look, "Get in."

The car ride is awkward, to say the least. Harry watches out the window and doesn't say anything after giving Amelia's address and then his own. Amelia stares at the side of his face, willing him to look at her and be outwardly angry. She's bating him with a look. Or trying to.

"When can I see you again?" Harry asks as the cabbie pulls up outside her house. "Before Thursday night," He adds because be damned if he can't get her to himself again before sharing her with their dickhead friends all quiz.

"I'm not sure," Amelia looks forward at the stranger in the front seat and wonders if Harry cares there's someone else listening in on their conversation.

"Do you want to come to my football match on Tuesday night? We could get dinner after?"

Amelia scratches her forehead, "Tuesday I'll be in Amsterdam, getting back late."

"Come to mine on the way back from the airport then."

"Harry," She says quietly, looking at the driver again, unsure whether to be thankful he's not making a fuss about her not getting out or being grateful he's happily letting the metre run while they faff about.

Harry finally turns to look at her, "I just want to know when I'll see you next."

"You'll see me when you see me," Amelia lets out a short sigh, praying he'll let it go. She's tired, and fifteen metres from her house and just wants to be inside, taking her bra off to put on pyjamas. "I don't know if I'll be there on Thursday."

He frowns, "Why, what's happening on Thursday?"

"I just don't know if I'll be there," She repeats. By Thursday Amelia will either have the promotion of a lifetime to celebrate or she won't.

"Why not?" Harry challenges.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Harry."

"I don't think it needs to be hard at all, Amelia."

"Good, I'll see you soon then, Harry," She says finally, cracking open the door and hoisting herself out of the car, "Thanks for the lift."

Harry spends Monday reeking of grumpiness and frustration.

He's got no idea where he went wrong with Amelia. They got on the train in Bristol holding hands and then she woke up in London seemingly completely off him. Didn't want a bar of him. He broods at his desk with his headphones in, avoids conversations with his co-workers and eats lunch in front of his screen.

He's infuriated at himself and how desperately he wants to call her and have it out. He's not generally a confrontational sort of guy, but she's driving him crazy. She really is. Harry wants to scream at her that he's not trying to take anything from her or change Amelia in any way. He adores her and thinks she's the sexiest woman on the planet.

He'd give anything to get beyond where he is with her.

Amelia arrives at her office on Wednesday to a desk covered in flowers.

She got the call the evening before when she was at the airport on her way back from Amsterdam. The CEO Steven called to tell her she'd got the promotion and she was the newest (and youngest) member of the executive team. She'd start the new role at the beginning of next month, negotiations about her salary and the terms of her benefits would start being ironed out with HR next week. For now, though, she was to be very proud of herself, he said, she'd established herself as a formidable future company director, if that's where Amelia wanted to go.

There's a bunch of flowers from Steven and one from her own team. Amelia also reads a card from Hannah and Dale. There's a third bunch of flowers from the legal team, she works pretty closely with them so isn't surprised by the show of kindness.

As the day goes on a company email is sent out announcing the new restructure and detailing the positions that have been filled. This leads to several other colleagues emailing Amelia their congratulations, and two more bouquets arriving at her desk from members of the company board.

Hannah insists on taking her out for a drink after work at Dale's restaurant in Hackney. Amelia has three glasses of wine and falls asleep on her sofa when she gets home.

First thing Thursday morning Amelia calls her Gran to tell her.

When Hannah and Evan from the office ask if Amelia would like to go to their group fitness class after work, she says yes. Amelia can't face the thought of seeing her uni friends. Especially not with this kind of news. Marc would roll his eyes and Grace would probably try to move on from it as quickly as possible.

Amelia doesn't let herself imagine what Harry will think.

Google Alerts <[email protected]>

Google Alert - 'Amelia Miller'

You have received this email because you have subscribed to Google Alerts.

From Financial Times Daily Briefing:

"Lorne & Hunter Media are thrilled to announce the promotion of Amelia Miller from Corporate Affairs Director to Global Chief Of Staff. Amelia joined the company seven years ago and has advanced through the Corporate & Public Affairs departments, where she has played a crucial role in our international operations and transitions to more comprehensive corporate policies.

Amelia brings with her a wealth of experience and knowledge and is extremely well respected within the company. She will focus on employee outcomes and best practices for worldwide operations in her new role.

Any media inquires should be directed to Hannah Thornton at [email protected]"

Harry leaves the quiz halfway through.

It becomes apparent Amelia isn't going to show up, so he stops by the bar on the way out the door, throws back a shot of whiskey and stomps his way down the street. He's furious. And uncomfortably tipsy. But mostly he's angry and hurt and annoyed at himself.

In the tube station, he sits on the platform and doesn't like either of his options. He can't show up to his sister's like this, and he doesn't want to head towards Southfields for home. Turning up at Amelia's is, intellectually, a bad idea. But it's the only satisfying outcome he can muster.

She doesn't answer the first phone call. So because Harry's an idiot and a glutton for punishment, he calls her another two times—one after the other—until she picks up.

"Harry?" She's somewhere loud, he can hear people and music.

"Are you out right now?" He asks incredulously.

There's a whooshing sound, and then it goes quiet. For a moment, Harry thinks she's hung up on him, but her voice comes through the line clear as day, "Have you been drinking, Harry?"

"I asked you first," He shot back. "Where are you?"

Amelia sighs, "I said I might not be at the quiz this week."

"Cause of your new job," Harry says petulantly, "You knew … On the weekend, you knew, didn't you?"

She doesn't say anything. She's got no idea how he found out, but briefly looks back to Hannah and a few other the other girls from the office who are all inside toasting to her. Amelia doesn't like to think Hannah would've told Harry.

"Congratulations," Harry tells her, kicking at the station wall. He doesn't remember standing up, "That's one big fucking promotion, read it in the Financial Times this morning."

"Harry, I—

"—Can't help but be a bit offended we've been spending all this time together, and you didn't think to mention this to me. Figured we were closer than that, Meils."

He's sad. Harry's sad and Amelia's standing outside a restaurant in Soho, freezing her tits off in the cold, wishing like anything she didn't have to get this version of Harry. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid. He feels entitled to access and entry to her life. Because of the sex. This was because of the sex.

She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the sky, "That's not what we were doing, Harry. We're not together."

"Fuck," He scoffs, "Thanks, Amelia. Don't I know it."

They're both quiet for a minute. Her heart is racing, and Amelia can feel tears prickling behind her eyes, hot and agonising. She hasn't felt someone's disappointment in a long time, and she's annoyed she saw this coming but wasn't able to prevent it. Harry's thinking he really wished he could've been the kind of guy to read the Google Alert and immediately jump to happiness and pride, bypass the selfish hurt, and been breezy with congratulating her. As if he wasn't completely crushed by having pushed and pushed for agency in her life only to have it all thrown back in his face as worthless. She had been calculating and deliberate about keeping him on the outer. Harry was sure he would win her over, so sure he knew what Amelia needed.

"I need to get back," She says eventually.

"Yeah," Harry nods to nobody and moves to the platform that will take him home to Southfields, "Me too. See you later, Amelia."

This is where I’ll be waiting for you all

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londonsquitebiggg · 4 years

Text

THE ONE - Part One

^^^ this is the town in which my story is based^^^

Krista's Pov,

*BEEP, BEEP, BEEP*

"mmmmhhhmmmmm" I groan rolling over to turn off the horrid sound that is my alarm.

Today was the first day back at school after a very long summer break! I'm not excited to go back to campus today but I can't wait to see Sam, we have been the best of friends since we were born.

I start my day off with my normal routine, I wake up, reluctantly got out of my warm bed and walk into my in suite bathroom. I plugged my IPhone into my Ihome port and put my music on shuffle as I hopped into the shower. After I washed my hair with my strawberries and cream shampoo and conditioner, and washed my body with my strawberry body wash (Okay so I love the scent of strawberry don't judge me!). I washed the soapy suds off my body and shut off the water. I dried myself off with my big fluffy towel.

As I walked out of the bathroom and headed to my walk in closet trying to figure out what to wear today, I peaked out of my window to see what the weather was like, it was the same as always, hot and sunny! I decided on a tealy greenish cropped tank top, some ripped skinny jeans, and some white lace toms.

After I'm dressed I walk over to my vanity and plugged in my straightener to try and tame my mess of hair. While waiting for it to heat up I did my make-up which consisted of some concealer to mask my dark circles, a bit of powder to make my face look less oily, some mascara, a little bit of blush, of course I did my eyebrows, and put on my chap stick. I'm not a huge fan of make up mainly because I honestly don't know how to do it but I also am too insecure to not where any at all so I do what I can.

Once deciding that this was as good as it was going to get I ran my straightener through my hair till it was less of a mess and more of a wavy look. I walked to my bathroom to brush my teeth, and put on perfume and deodorant so I wouldn't smell , I pinned my hair back so I was out of my face and put a hair band on my wrist in case I needed to put it up later in the day. I grabbed my phone and backpack and headed downstairs to get some breakfast.

I guess it's about time that I introduced myself, my name is Krista Mayfield, I live in High Water, North Carolina, I'm currently 17 but my birthday is just three short days way. I am a Sophomore in college, I know that I'm technically "too young" but I worked my booty off and graduated high school early so it works. I still live at home with my family, we have our own house cause my Father is the Alpha of our pack.

Yes. I know what your thinking and it's true, I'm a werewolf. Well I will be you see, I'm 17 still and I haven't shifted yet so I don't have my wolf yet. That will all change soon though, just three days and I will shift and I'll be able to start looking for my mate.

"Krista get your breakfast before your father eats it all!" I heard my mom call me and walk into the kitchen, I grab some toast and a banana not feeling all that hungry and also running late to meet Sam at the school.

I kissed my mom on the cheek "Morning mom! I have to get to school early to meet Sam, I love you! Bye" I rushed as I grabbed my keys off the hook, almost out the door when my Father's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Krista, there are some new wolves that are on our territory looking for their mates, they'll be attending your school so if you see them be nice please? I don't want them to feel unwelcome, they are from a neighboring pack and their families are old friends" I nod my head in response kiss my dad on the cheek, and rush off to school.

After a thirty minute drive I pull up to school and jump out, I saw Sam and I screamed as we ran to each other we crashed into a big bear hug, (yes we are those friends).

"Oh my gosh I missed you so much!" She said and we broke the hug. "I know I don't know how I survived without you!" Man was that the truth.

We saw each other over break, of course. Spent lots of time at the beach and just hanging out in general, I mean we practically lived at each others houses! However Sam's birthday was a month and a half ago, so she had to start her training and also her family went on a vacation for like three weeks so I haven't seen her as much as usual as of late.

We were out front of the English department when the we realized the time. We walked to our first lecture of the day and picked out our seats and put our stuff down, I went over to Sam and started to talk about her trip before the teacher got there, I wanted to know everything.

During the conversation I heard the door open but was too involved in my conversation with Sam and some of our other friends that had joined upon their arrival. Sam stopped talking and focused on something behind me, she was staring wide eyed, I wanted to know what had her so distracted. I turned around and there was four cute boys, well three cute boys and one extremely hot one, he had brown hair styled in this messy, effortless pushed back style, he was wearing all black and from the looks of his arms he had A LOT of tattoos... he is SO hot! I was basically drooling at how absolutely stunning the god like man.When suddenly I remembered that my birthday is in a couple of days and I will be able to find my mate and I know for a fact that the moon goddess would never me with someone as hot as him no matter how much I have prayed for basically a mate just like him I knew he was just too far out of my league. Plus he definitely is one of the wolves looking for his mate, not to mention that he's probably a lot older then me he has to be at least 25-26, I mean age doesn't really matter when mates and werewolves are involved but I could practically feel the power radiating off of him and I didn't even have my wolf yet! there is no way that I would be paired with such a strong Alpha!

Harry's Pov,

I'm not going to go into detail about my morning mainly because its not very interesting, I got up, got dressed, and drove to the new school I'm attending while one the BloodMoon Packs territory. Alpha Mayfield told me that a lot of the wolves from his pack go to this school which I could tell by the smell but I could also smell some humans, So it's a mixed school which is common considering it's a big city and it's not just a werewolf community.

I'm Harry, I'm here in High Water to try to find my mate, I'm 26 years old so I'm starting to get concerned that I don't have one. Which would be bloody terrible if you ask me but if that's what the Moon Goddess has planned for me then I guess I don't have much of a choice, but that sure as hell isn't going to stop me from looking for her.

I grew up in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire. You guessed it, I'm British. My family moved to the states when I was 16 after our Pack was attacked, my father was lost that night, my mother was lucky enough to be blessed with her second chance mate, Robin when we moved here. He was an Alpha of one of the biggest packs in America. My sister Gemma she found her mate last year, He took over Robins stop as Alpha and Gemma is now our Luna, I'm be an Alpha but I lost that opportunity from not having a mate yet. It didn't really bother me, I would be the Beta of our pack unless I don't find my mate, or unless she is to become the Luna of a pack, making me her Alpha... If she accepts me that is.

"Harry! my main man, nice of you to finally show up" one of my best mates Louis said knocking me out of my thoughts as I walked up to our group.

"Yeah, I figured if I'm here to find my mate I should get out of the house and start looking around shouldn't I?" I jokingly replied.

As he was about to say some smartass response when we noticed everyone rushing inside and we figured it was time to head to class, we didn't want to be late to class on our first day, well we didn't care about being late to class we just didn't want to miss an opportunity to find our mates. We were all just leisurely walking a when I suddenly got wind of this amazing, intoxicating, overwhelming, and addicting smell of Lavender, Cedar wood, and what I could only describe as sugar, my wolf Marcus was howling with glee, he kept chanting

"Mate, Mate, go to mate"

Over and over again, I started walking a little bit faster towards following her smell which lucky for me lead right to my first lecture I was so lost in her sweet smell, I could barely see straight. I opened the door and almost fainted at sight of my gorgeous mate. She was tall and tan, she had perfect long blond hair that was pulled back away from her face in a natural wavy style, She had the most stunning face that I had ever seen, she had very little make-up on which worked because she didn't need any she was so gorgeous, she was wearing very skinny ripped jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a green crop top that showed her skin which made me mad because I didn't want anyone else seeing what was mine!

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth when I caught her checking me out, wondering if she was think about me in the same manner that I was thinking about her. Shit, it's taking every ounce of self control I have to not rush at her and claim her right here right now!

But just the she realized something and turned around, which made Marcus whimper because that means she didn't recognize me as her mate, or she did and didn't want me. I couldn't help the longing to walk up to her and say hello, to tell her how beautiful she was, how much I wanted her, how much I loved her eyes. So that is exactly what I did. I walked my way over to her and tapped on her shoulder.

"Hey, my names Harry, It's nice to meet you." I introduced myself to her once she turned around.

"Hi, I'm Krista, I don't mean to sound rude so if it comes across that way I'm sorry. But why are you talking to me? I mean your so hot and so much older then me...I.. uhhh.. umm I mean your like older and you don't want to embarrass yourself on the first day here talking to the awkward nerd when you could get in with the top of the food chain so easily with your looks.. I mean age... I mean I'm, I'm going to shut up now " My little mate was rambling with nerves, making me chuckle at how adorable she looked all flustered, not to mention that she called me hot, but I didn't like the fact that she thought that she was embarrassing, a nerd, or saying that I was so old, Kind of hurt the ego a bit... I guess her hot comment could make up for that.

"What are you talking about? I'm only twenty-six??". I asked her confused.

"Yeah and I'm only sevente.." before she could finish her friend cut her off.

"Oh come on Krista you know your turning eighteen in like three days." my cute little mate was blushing at the reveal of her birthday being so close, especially it being such an important one.

It all made so much sense to me now, she wasn't rejecting me, she didn't recognize me as her mate because she hasn't shifted or got her wolf yet. Without her wolf senses she wouldn't be able to identify my smell, or feel our mate pull as intense, she would still feel it but she wouldn't be able to understand why she is feeling things towards me.

"Oh well, don't worry I just wanted to introduce myself to such a gorgeous girl as yourself, I'll see you around love" as I was walking away I winked at her and she blushed, bloody hell she looks so innocent when she blushes. It makes me want to do very unholy things to her! Which is okay because I am her mate but if anyone else was thinking these things about it I would rip their throat out.

I turn my head back as I walk back to the guys, because and can't stand not looking at her for longer than three seconds and I see her looking at me a bit flustered, her breathing is labored and her cheeks are tinted the most beautiful shade of pink. It's good to know that my words had there intended effect on her, 1 point Harry.

Krista's Pov

I can't believe that he just freakin' talked to me!!! Like the hottest guy that I have ever seen in my life just came and talked to me, he literally just called me love! Let's not forget he called me gorgeous!! I think something is wrong with his eyes I mean has he seen me? I mean don't get me wrong I know I'm not ugly, I just don't think that I am pretty enough for the literal hottest guy to say I'm gorgeous!!!

Also how sweet is he to talk to me and not even care about my nerdy status! I mean the wolves here wouldn't dare disrespect me like that but the other students here find every excuse they can to pick on my age and my grades.. which doesn't make sense to me? like you come to college because you want to learn stuff so you can get a good job.. why would you want to have bad grades????

"what the heck just happened???" Sam said pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I have no stinkin' idea! like did you see that man? like holy smokes he is good looking" I said fanning myself trying to cool down, feeling like the temperature has risen like 20 degrees in here since him and his friends walked in.

"And let's not forget that incredibly sexy British accent!!" One of my best friends Ashlyn said. No matter how much I agree with that statement, it was makes me feel super annoyed that she just called him sexy, why am I feeling this way? Normally I would be blushing at her use of the word "sexy" but no I'm fuming with anger at the thought of someone else finding him attractive!

"Get a grip woman! You have no claim over him!" my subconscious screams at me. As much as this irritates me I know she is right. He isn't my mate and I don't have any sort of claim on him... he isn't mine.

"Do you think he is one of the wolves that's here looking for his mate?" Ashlyn questioned.

"I would assume so. I've never seen any of them before, heck I didn't even know we had wolves coming on our territory until my dad said something this morning. Why do you ask?" Was my reply to her, irritated that she was intrigued with him.

" Well I'm just wondering why he came over and was talking to you of all people".....OUCH! that was kind of harsh. I mean I'm as surprised as anyone that he was talking to me. I know that I'm not the prettiest girl around but I wouldn't expect one of my best friends to be so shocked that I could actually attract male attention.

As if sensing what I was thinking, probably because I wear my feelings on my face, she jumped into action to dig herself out of this hole.

"I didn't mean it in the way that you are thinking!! I just meant that his whole purpose here in High Water is to find his mate, so by him coming and talking to the most literally prettiest girl in school, I assume that means that he hasn't found his mate yet which means that talking to you could come across as him being a guy who doesn't put his mate first and flirts with other girls before he finds her... or he found her and he's a huge player..." Ashlyn nervously rambled, making some really good points.

" I don't know Ash, maybe we should consider the fact that maybe Krista is his mate??" Sam cut in. Both mine and Ash's heads snapped towards her staring in shock and confusion.

"I mean, she doesn't have her wolf yet so she wouldn't have been able to sense if she was. But he doesn't come off as the kind of guy to cheat on his mate, and he's twenty-six. Don't you think he is a little too old and mature to be flirting with girls that aren't his mate?" She said trying to explain her logic.

" I mean, yeah but like me? And him? I mean that's funny Sam I don't think the Moon Goddess would do him that disservice. I mean he is way out of my league! We aren't even playing the same game that's how far out of my league he is." Was my response to her outrageous theory.

"oh don't start this crap again! Krista you are the most gorgeous girl in the whole world! As much as you don't believe it, Sam's right. I mean his whole purpose of coming her is to find her, why would he jeopardize that by making her insecure and jealous of you?" Said Ash, They hate it when I talk bad about myself.

"And don't bring the Moon Goddess into this! You know just as much of the rest of us that, looks, age , and status have nothing to do with who she pairs you with! All that matters is that your mate is your other half. They complete you! Heck, your probably the best mate that guy could get!" Sam said being the best friend ever and boosting my confidence up a little.

I looked over my shoulder behind me at him, my mind jumbled with the possibilities of me and him being mates. As if sensing me staring his head turned at that exact moment. Gorgeous green eyes locked with mine, a stupidly attractive smirk on his face. It was that moment when Professor O'Neil walked in telling us to find our seats so we could start. It was like he knew how he was affecting me, my breathing labored, my cheeks flushed, and my heart pounding.

I couldn't tare my eyes away, he chuckled as he winked at me and faced the front to pay attention to what our Professor was saying. I rushed to my seat, trying to calm myself down and control my breathing. Trying to pay attention to my English lecture, but was struggling because my mind kept floating back to what Sam said.. could I really be his mate? Maybe.. but if I truly was, why didn't he say anything?

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