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softykooky · 4 years

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the habits of a broken heart.

☾ genre : soulmates au, unrequited love, art student!JK, english student!Y/N, angst, fluff, subtle enemies to lovers

☾ pairing : jeon jungkook x reader

☾ summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak.

alternatively,

“You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

☾ word count: 26.3k (my biggest one yet!)

☾ author’s note: this took forever oh my gosh! i really hope you like it! it’s my first time writing such a big single piece, and trying a different style. thank you so much for your support, always! please let me know what you think ♡

The first time he had his heart broken, Jeon Jungkook had been 13 years old. He was fresh out of middle school and so ready to face his freshman year with an impressionable mind and plenty of voice cracks to earn him months worth of teasing. You see, at the age of 13, Jungkook wasn’t something to swoon over. He had yet to grow into his ears and Dr. Park assured him that his braces would be off as soon as she could get them. He was a little lanky and a bit too reticent to be considered social. So when a girl in his grade comes up to him, nervous and stuttering, and asks him to go to the heavily romanticized homecoming dance, Jungkook has already come to the conclusion that she might be his soulmate, even if he was far too young to get his mark yet.

Her name was Mina, and Jungkook is confronted with this memory every time he visits home and his mother makes the family flip through the photo albums dating back to his high school years. He grimaces every time he sees the picture of them together. Him in a pink button-up to match her offensively ugly ruffled taffeta dress.

Mina broke up with him three months after that picture was taken, through one of her friends no less and in front of his entire gym class. Jungkook couldn’t remember how long he cried for while he felt the pain from his first heartbreak would never go away, regardless of how much time passes. He held onto his mother and sobbed out the agony and humiliation of Mina not wanting to be his girlfriend anymore, and how he had lost his soulmate before he even knew it was her. His mother assured him that without the mark, there was no way to be sure and that there was hope. But back then, all Jungkook could think of was ways to avoid Mina the next day, especially when they sat next to each other in 3rd period biology.

At 13 years old, Jungkook thought he would never find love again.

He is 18 when he stands alongside his parents in a pale examination room and awaits his destiny. He’s leaving for college the next day, yet the only thing that’s making him nervous is the mark that will inevitably appear on his wrist in the next few minutes. The same one he would find on his soulmate’s, and Jungkook wonders if there is the possibility of scaring everyone away when the first thing he’ll ask on a date is: can I please see your wrist?

To say the least, Jungkook is petrified. Because that mark on his wrist is going to serve as a constant reminder of his missing piece, and Jungkook knows he’ll always feel lacking until he finds them. It’s a crescent moon. Small and black and nestled comfortably on his skin. He knows many times the marks don’t have any correlation with the couples, but Jungkook wonders if you are an astrologist. Or an astronaut. Or just had a weird affinity for the moon. He smiles when they congratulate him and can’t stop himself from thinking that he might be in love with you already. Wherever you are. When he leaves for university, he feels less lonely when there is a crescent moon to accompany him.

Contrary to the beliefs of his 13-year old self, Jungkook does fall in love again. Hard. This time, it was a girl with brown hair and big eyes and a smile so pretty he could see it from across a crowded room. She was a grade below him; a frazzled college freshman with no clue to where her lecture hall was, and he: a sophomore who had a compulsion of changing his major every other month. When he met her, it had been chemical engineering and three weeks before that was film composition. Her name was Yoojung, 18 years old while he was 19.

Her soulmate mark is a single star, and even though he knows she is not his soulmate, he can’t help but to think how perfectly their marks complement each other. How they would make a perfect night sky.

They had met at a frat party, no less, and the combination of cheap booze and bad hiphop music had made her look so incredibly gorgeous under the dim lighting. They had their first kiss in a random person’s living room, highly intoxicated and much too irresponsible and Jungkook had barely even remembered it in the morning until she showed up at his doorstep and invited herself in. Yet it wasn’t too long before he made a perfect space for Yoojung in his life.

Each day after his physics lecture, he’d go to her dorm and they’d chat over breakfast until she had economics at 10 o’ clock. After she was done, he’d insist that they go get a greasy hamburger at the joint his friends took him to when they got high and, she’d end up dragging them both to the health food restaurant that prided themselves on only using organic. Leave it to Jungkook to find himself a vegan girlfriend.

Sometimes though, when he looks at Yoojung, his mind drifts to his actual soulmate and a little flower named guilt blooms in his chest. But he is so young and his other half could be anywhere in the world, so Jungkook thinks there is no harm in allowing himself to indulge in a little affection. These days, it wasn’t completely abnormal for soulmates to part ways, and when Yoojung is in his arms, Jungkook likes to think that his soulmate would understand. They would want him to be happy. In the middle of synchronizing their busy student schedules and sneaking in quick kisses through cramming for finals, he had found it unnervingly easy to fall in love with her.

Deeply and blindly in love.

Yoojung brought him home to her family on fall breaks and the occasional winter vacation and Jungkook had melded perfectly into their dynamic. The son I never had, her father would tell him over the dinner table while her mother constantly made sure his plate was piled high. Her little sister was visibly in love with him, and would ask Yoojung where he was every time she came home from university, yet avoiding him at all costs when he was there.

Jungkook’s own family, however, was a different story. To put it delicately, they had liked it more when he came home by himself and left her at school. It had put a strain on their relationship sure, but at the end of the day, Jungkook loved her. A simple love.

Every day he remembers that their marks do not match. But if this is love and he feels like he is on cloud 9 with every moment they are together, Jungkook begins to doubt if the universe’s will is truly divine and successful. Maybe Yoojung was his soulmate and it did not matter what was on their wrists.

He loved her intensely, and she did him. She was the first thing on his mind when he woke up and manifested in his dreams when he slept at night. To Jungkook, Yoojung could do no wrong. Like some sort of divine being or angel that the heavens sent just for him, and he found himself thinking maybe he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life beside her.

But he would come to learn that the higher the climb...the harder the fall.

Jungkook and Yoojung were together for the better part of 4 years before she cheated on him with a guy that she’d supposedly met a couple weeks ago. When Jungkook screams at her asking why she had been disloyal, Yoojung shows him her wrist. Her single inked star.

“I found my soulmate, Jungkook. And I love you so much, you know I do. I didn’t know how to tell you so I…”

The rest of her words fade into white noise and all Jungkook can do is look at her and commit every detail to memory as he feels her fade farther away. Her teary and remorseful brown eyes. Her plush lips. The fan of her eyelashes and the mole on the side of her temple. He’ll never get to see her like this again.

“I was ready to be with you, soulmate or not. I know it’s not fair but I wanted the same from you”, he whispers, falling down on the couch and burying his face in his hands.

“Soulmates be damned, the universe was wrong. I was so hideously in love with you. How could you not at least tell me when you met him?” Jungkook feels his heart collapsing in on itself with every word of resignation. Of burgeoning acceptance. Yoojung can only mirror his desolate expression and stares down at the star on her skin.

Jungkook wishes it were a moon.

“Just go, Yoojung.”

It would have hurt less if it was only a one night stand with a stranger she did not know the name of. He was in love and spineless enough to move past a one night stand. However, Yoojung had found her soulmate and fallen in love with him. Jungkook had merely acted as a placeholder for the real deal to come along and sweep her off her feet.

This time he doesn’t cry. Just stares out the window of his living room and wonders what it would be like to disappear altogether. When the door is slammed shut, and he is left to nurse his aching soul, Jungkook apologizes in advance to the person that shares the same mark on their wrist as him. He no longer believes that soulmates exist.

When Jungkook looks back at his 13 year old self with the innocent construct of what heartbreak feels like, he wants to laugh and maybe slap that stupid boy upside the head. Yoojung had destroyed him. Destroyed the innocent and starry-eyed person that he’s tried so hard to preserve. Destroyed his vulnerability and bright outlook on life and in their place, cultivated walls of rock and steel meant to keep everyone out and him safely tucked inside. In her wake, Yoojung left behind a shell of a man who pushed his emotions so deep he became numb and forgot what it was like to feel.

So Jungkook does what he always does to push away the hurt. He changes his major; to art history this time. He stacks up bracelets on his wrist to forget the mark of a moon. He scrapes up his rainy day money and treats himself to the most expensive pair of Saint Laurent boots he’s ever worn. He tests the limits of the human liver, and takes advantage of the biceps and jawline he’s acquired since high school to establish a reputation.

To his friends, Jungkook remained raucous and always down to order infinite rounds of shots until he couldn’t see straight. To those that looked even closer, Jungkook was so completely shattered he didn’t even feel it anymore.

The second time he had his heart broken, Jungkook was 23. He promised himself he wouldn’t let it happen again.

◐

“For the last time, Jimin, I’m not going to give you a blowjob so you can pay for my student loans.”

You don’t know how many times you’ve had this conversation with your roommate. Most of the time, it was convenient to have a roommate whose parents were loaded and sent him monthly installments that looked more like small loans than allowances. You knew he just wanted to help. Heck, he probably would be willing to pay them off for you without the promiscuous favor, but you had made it clear to Jimin that you wouldn’t be riding off of his charity.

“Ugh, Y/N you’re really no fun”, he sighs, falling backwards onto your twin-sized bed and feigning devastation. You reward his melodrama with a giggle, ruffling your hands through his fried hair. Jimin had a knack for changing his hair color as quickly as his mood.

You look at the bill that’s staring back at you from your computer screen, and it feels like it’s just reached out and punched you in the face. “Hey do you think it’s a common mistake for bank tellers to add a few too many zeroes?”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m rationalizing as a self-defense mechanism.” Sometimes it was annoying that your roommate had a degree in psychology. Then again, Jimin was making more money than you and your degree in English.

You sigh deeply and look up at the ceiling in attempts to quell your tears of frustration. And also because it is a plea to whoever is up there controlling your destiny: please I’m begging you. Melt my debt away.

You and Jimin sit in comfortable silence and he plays with the hem of your worn comforter while you scroll through the emails you have been ignoring in your inbox. You want to smash your head in at all the deadlines. Times like these, there is one thing that brings you comfort and always has since you turned 18.

The quaint little crescent moon that sits right atop your radius.

You had a habit of pressing your thumb against it and feeling your pulse against the mark, stupidly wondering if your soulmate’s heartbeat has synched up with your own. If he was out there somewhere, touching his mark and wondering the same about you. He was taking his sweet time, that’s for sure. Jimin sees your nervous tic and sighs again.

“You’re so hopelessly romantic it makes me want to barf, Y/N.” You scowl at his words and chuck a pillow at his unsuspecting face.

“I don’t understand you, Jimin. Your soulmate is out there and you’re not the slightest bit curious? You don’t want to do anything extra to find them?” Jimin looks at you with a knowing smile.

“That’s exactly it, though. I know they’re my soulmate and I’ll find them when the time is right. So why worry about it? It’s better not to force anything.” His statement is followed up with a grin and his fingers reach out to pinch your cheeks. This was the dynamic of your friendship. He is easy-going and flows like a careless river. You’ve read one too many books to not vie and daydream for the moment you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Your mom always said that you’ll know just from a look. It’s like getting hit over the head with a ray of sun, she said. Like suddenly their eyes are the only eyes you ever want to look into again. Since then, you’ve dreamt for the day you find someone with that same moon on their wrist. For now though, you had more immediate concerns more along the lines of crippling debt.

“What do I do, Jimin? Should I be a stripper?” He laughs and the thought makes you groan. You couldn’t even walk in heels, much less try to dance or look like you didn’t have two left feet. Stripper life just wasn’t for you.

“Hm...I could call in a few favors for you at the office. Get you an internship or secretary position.”

“Maybe. Too much nepotism. Your father owns the office you work at”, you remind him, and his eyebrows crease further in thought. God, maybe you do have to be a stripper.

“Wait!” Jimin yelps so suddenly you almost fling the computer off your lap.

“I think I know someone. He’s been looking for a model for his art portfolio or something, and he said he’s willing to pay.” Jimin reaches for his phone and his thumbs type up a storm while you watch from the sideline.

“I think he mentioned it’s about a month-long project. You’d just have to be on call whenever a stroke of genius arrives.”

“That sounds great! I’m an amazing model!” you crow, to which Jimin giggles again.

“The several candids I have in my camera roll tell a different story, Y/N.” Naturally, he receives another pillow to the face. But you follow up with a cheery kiss to his cheek as you rejoice in the new opportunity for cash flow by a celebratory dance, which looks more like a wiggle when you remain seated on your bed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you chirped, “I owe you one.”

“Hey...I know how you can repay me.”

When you look towards him, his eyebrows are raised inquisitively and there’s a devilish smirk on his lips.

Jimin gets a third pillow to his face that day.

◓

Jungkook’s favorite type of arguments to get into is whether Neo-classicism or post-impressionism had the most impact on European art and architecture. Call him a snob, but he loves to prattle on about Degas and Caillebotte until his opponent tires or concedes out of pure exhaustion. Jungkook regards it as a battle strategy: bore your enemy so that they stop fighting.

He’s in the middle of a heated debate with his classmate from graduate school when he receives a phone call from Park Jimin. Now, Jungkook has no idea how or when Jimin became an installment in his life, or how he’s roped his way into his inner circle. He just remembers waking up one day with a killer hangover and finding that there was a pink-haired stranger lying on his floor. When he tried to shoo him out, the stranger shoved a wad of money in his shirt pocket, muttering “just five more minutes”, and Jungkook was in no position to deny easy cash. Jungkook now considers Jimin one of his close friends.

“What’s up, Jiminie?” He laughs into the microphone.

“I told you not to call me that, you brat. I’m older than you.”

“I’m taller than you.”

“My dick is bigger.”

“I-okay fine you got me there.” He hears Jimin wheeze over the line as he tries to rein himself in to say what he needs to say.

“In all seriousness, though. I have a proposition for you.” Jimin lilts in a mischievous tone, which makes Jungkook nervous enough to get up from the café table he had been sitting at with his friend and careen to a quieter corner.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so you know how you were telling me about your portfolio for the gallery. The one you have to submit by the end of the season? How you needed a model on call 24/7 in case inspiration struck?”

Jungkook wants him to spit it out because he has been searching high mountains and low valleys for someone that would be willing to be his muse for a month or two. Constantly at his beck and call so he can finish this damn portfolio and get his name out there in the art world. Maybe start debating post-impressionism with the cream of the crop.

“I think I’ve found someone to do that for you.” Jungkook exhales in relief at his words.

“She’s my roommate and she’s super low on cash and unemployed with a bachelor’s in English literature, so she’s got time to spare.” Perfect. That way, Jungkook can call her whenever he needs to.

“That’s amazing, Jiminie. Can she meet me at the art building tomorrow at noon? We can start right away.” Jungkook breathes through the phone, a small weight coming off his shoulders now that another thing had been accomplished. One less thing he had to worry about on the journey to his goal. Jimin confirms the plans and they exchange pleasantries before Jungkook hangs up as the man on the other line starts screaming about his burning lunch on the stove.

Jungkook catches sight of the mark on his wrist when he looks down, and quickly rearranges his bracelets so that it is once again covered to his eyes. Out of sight and out of mind.

The gallery portfolio had been a thorn in his side. It had been months in the making and if he allows himself to reminisce, Jungkook remembers the nights he and Yoojung stayed up until dawn and talked about his blossoming interest in art. How he wanted a space of his own to display his works. Back then, she listened to him with stars in her eyes and basked in the afterglow of post-coital cuddling, promising that she would help him achieve it.

His heart sinks at the memory of the imprint of her tresses of hair spilling on his bedspread. He burned those sheets the second she left.

Jungkook represses his intrusive thoughts about Yoojung and wills her to get out of his head. He forces it down until it feels like he’s just dumped ice water over his heart and vomited out any semblance of emotion. He makes his way back to the cafe table with a sly smile that hides the internal ache he’s promised himself to never let anyone suspect of.

“So what were you saying about Renoir’s Moulin de la Galette?”

◑

The art building is situated besides a library, with a bakery flanking its left. Two years spent at the university, and you’ve never once stepped foot there. Maybe it was the daunting abstract sculpture on the front lawn or the prejudices you held against annoying art snobs on their high horses, but you often found yourself subconsciously avoiding the space in intimidation.

“Okay, Y/N, you’re going to do this so you can pay off your loans”, you whisper under your breath, words meant for your ears and no one else’s. “And if he asks you to pose nude, you run the opposite direction.”

It was easy to get lost in the building. For art students that know how to draw, they really took advantage of abstractionism to make the most confusing map you had ever seen in your life. Luckily, with some direction from the vapid front desk secretary and some intuition, you were able to to find room 62B. You don’t think you’ll be able to forget the number 62B if you tried, Jimin had screamed it to you so many times as you left the apartment.

The door soundlessly opens with a nudge of your hand and you stick your head inside.

“You know when Jimin told me he found me a model, he didn’t mention her lack of punctuality.” His voice is calm and subdued with no lingering annoyance, even if his words are uncourteous. You whip around to him and the first sight you see of Jeon Jungkook is merely a tuft of brown hair behind a vast canvas. And some expensive looking leather boots that anchor his feet to the ground.

You clear your throat and approach with an outstretched hand and the shiniest smile you can muster.

“I’m Y/N. Jimin’s roommate. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Jungkook.”

It is when he steps out from behind the canvas that you finally understand what your mother meant when she said meeting your soulmate feels like getting hit over the head with a ray of sunshine. You can’t describe it any other way, but that’s exactly what it feels like. Like the air becomes so sweet in your lungs it turns to viscous honey. Like suddenly the person standing in front of you is Valentine, encapsulated.

You know he feels it too, yet you don’t know why he forces himself to remain blasé, and if you hadn’t seen his widened eyes and heard the gasp from his lips you would have never suspected anything at all. Stranger courtesy is abandoned and you forcefully grab his wrist, turning it over to find his mark while pulling up your sleeve to reveal your own.

A little black crescent moon.

Right on the pulse point.

Just like your’s.

When you finally muster up the nerve to look into his eyes again, you wonder if it is healthy for the human heart to beat so fast and so thunderously it feels ready to jump out of your chest. Jungkook, however, still wears that same expression on his face. Flat and cold, not even a glimmer in his eyes. He stares at you disinterested and wrenches his wrist from your grasp.

“Wait, Jungkook...aren’t you….”, you sputter through a desperate smile, “aren’t you happy?” He stays silent and trains his attention on the canvas in front of him, but you can see the conflict that swirls in his iris.

“I’ve been looking for you for so long! And I’ve finally found you. In the art building no less, just my luck that-”

“Y/N, I don’t know what you expect from me but I’m not looking for anything right now.”

There were no objectively ugly words. But you think the ones that have just spewed from Jungkook’s lips come pretty close. They stoke a fire in your chest.

“What do you mean? We’re soulmates”, you faltered, sinking deeper into confusion as you stare at the unaffected man in front of you, whose only concern is the conglomerate of paint on his palette.

Jungkook sighs monotonously. Almost as if he had better things to do than be here.

“It’s only a mark on your wrist. And we just happen to have the same one. Amazing that you still think somehow one single person was made entirely just for you.” His words are bored and he doesn’t even have the decency to look you in the eye when he speaks. You think you might want to punch him if you weren’t so speechless.

“Look”, he sighs as if you were inconveniencing him, “I’m not going to sugarcoat it and tell you that I’m the one you’ve been looking for this whole time. We have the same mark, but...I’m not the guy you want.”

“B-But...I’m your soulmate. We-we’re made for each other.”

Jungkook scoffs harshly, and you want to sink into the ground. “That’s just a silly myth.”

“So you don’t...believe in soulmates?” The words felt wrong to say when all your life, finding your soulmate felt like the ribbon at the end of the finish line. But here he was now, and you felt so small under his gaze. Like you weren’t meant to be there and standing in the same room with him was a concoction for heartbreak.

“No.”

Jungkook’s syllable pangs in your ear, and you think it might be your least favorite sound. Then you leave. And if it was hard for you to meet your soulmate - the person who you’re destined to be with - who doesn’t believe in you, then walking away from him was a different cross to bear.

You take the bus home and ignore the glare of strangers when you burst into tears at a red light, and cry the rest of the way back. Your mother hadn’t described this. She prosed on and on about the feeling one gets after finding a soulmate but never mentioned to you how it feels when you find out they want nothing to do with you. What do you do when you realize the person you’ve been chasing for forever has been trying to run away at the same time?

Jimin holds you together that night on your bedroom floor, while you break apart and scratch at the moon on your wrist until your skin breaks. He listens to the words you sputter; as much as he can decipher when they are drowned out by the painful sound of your sobbing. Jungkook’s beliefs bleed into your consciousness. Perhaps he is right and perhaps there is no such thing as true soulmates, and the marks are obsolete.

However, when you fall asleep in your friend’s arms from the physical fatigue of violent crying and the sheer mental exhaustion of meeting Jeon Jungkook, your mind comes to a more painful conclusion.

A more truthful conclusion.

Your soulmate only needed to meet you to decide that he did not want you.

◒

Jungkook doesn’t believe in soulmates. He thinks they’re a stupid coy to give people false hope. An illusion to feign happiness and to take Yoojung away from someone she genuinely loved. Though in the hours of the night, when he is by himself and the bed feels too big for one body, Jungkook wonders if there is truly a reason why someone has an identical moon on their wrist. But he is still so broken and unhealed from the wounds Yoojung left behind.

So instead of soulmates, he thinks about what she must be doing. If she’s eating well. If she’s moved in with her own soulmate and if they’re happy together. Jungkook is an involuntary masochist and he pays for it with every pillowcase that becomes stained with his tears.

He sighs out an expletive after downing a shot of whiskey, relishing in the familiar burn as it slides down his throat. Alcohol doesn’t seem to be working efficiently, though. He’s only barely tipsy after years in college building tolerance, and he can still see your face each time he blinks. Like you are imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Jungkook wonders why Jimin had cancelled on the group tonight.

There is a little devil called remorse and it stands atop his shoulder, unseen by everyone but him, and Jungkook decides he will get rid of it by calling another round of shots. From his seat in the dirty booth, he can see Min Yoongi and his soulmate practically dry humping on the dance floor. If anyone asks him if he ever gets jealous seeing soulmates happy and in love, he’ll laugh in their face and tell them he pities people like that. People that are so blinded by the system. But loneliness is a stern mistress and it makes him think of you. How lovely the moon looks on your wrist. How your hand felt so warm when it caressed against his skin.

He tips his head back again. Vodka this time.

“Dude, are you okay?”

To his right comes Kim Taehyung, designated driver extraordinaire, and he looks at Jungkook with friendly concern laced with amusement. Jungkook nods contentedly.

“Soulmates are so bullshit, Tae”, he snickers, fingers tracing the rim of the shot glass and smirk on his face to mask the bitterness of both the alcohol and his heart. Taehyung spares a knowing glance, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder with the weight of knowledge of Jungkook’s past.

The night is young and so is he. He drinks until he can no longer taste the liquor and forgets altogether about what had happened only a couple of hours before. Until the crescent mark on his skin just looks like a shapeless black blob, and it makes him smile. He thinks he likes it better that way.

Taehyung drops him home and personally tucks him into bed while he is still in jeans and his shirt smells like the bar. His sleep is dreamless that night. When the morning comes and his friends tease him about how he begged Taehyung not to leave, Jungkook will laugh and blame the alcohol for his foggy memory. He won’t tell them that he does remember, and that he was only grasping at any warm body to soothe his aching loneliness.

◐

Usually when he first opens his eyes in the morning, Jungkook is thinking about the next class he has to attend and if he is late (which is usually most of the time). This morning, albeit morbidly hungover, Jungkook thinks of the apple strudels they sell at the bakery next to the art building. Mrs. Kim always gets the pastry to filling ratio just right. But when he opens the door with a jubilant smile on his face and the scent of baked goods already in his nostrils, Jungkook has a feeling apple strudels will have to wait.

There you are. In all your messy-haired glory, huffing like a caged bull in the doorway of his apartment, fiery gaze directed completely at him and all he can think to say is:

“How do you know where I live?” Jungkook schools his face expressionless in your presence. He hopes this will discourage you, but it only makes you angrier.

“Park Jimin”, you snarl.

Of fucking course, it’s always Park Jimin. Jimin who drunkenly sleeps in his bedroom and now Jimin who is leaking his address to any stranger.

“Um”, Jungkook stammers and takes a step back, “what are you doing here? Didn’t I get my point through yesterday?” He can see the statement catching you off guard, and the fury in your eyes dwindles to dejection. Only for a millisecond though, before you are aiming your wrath at him once again.

You take a deep breath. “What is wrong with you?”

Jungkook can think of a lot of answers to that query. He opts to interpret it as a rhetorical question and keep his mouth shut.

“You just...found your soulmate! I’m your soulmate! And you don’t even want to get to know me? At all?”, you scream exasperatedly. Jungkook catches the gaze of a middle aged lady who is not-so-discreetly staring at the two of you, and pulls you inside his apartment by your arm. If you weren’t so frustrated, you would have been flustered at the physical contact.

“Listen. Soulmates don’t end up together all the time. I’ve told you I’m not really interested in anything right now and it’s not a priority”, he takes a breath through his passionate monologue, “and I’m sorry that that’s not something you expected, but I….don’t want a soulmate.”

Maybe...he just doesn’t want you.

When he says them out loud to a living breathing person, Jungkook realizes how cruel it sounds. He can see it in the way your eyes have become glossy under his living room lights and the way you shrink into yourself as self-defense against his blows. He rationalizes that he’d rather tell you the truth than lie to you now, only to hurt you later. Really, he’s doing you a kindness. Right?

You turn your back to him to gather your thoughts, and wipe the tears that you refuse to let him see. The salty drops sting the raw skin of your wrist after last night, and you are brutally reminded of the current reality. His brutal honesty makes you want to abandon all hope, but you were a woman with a plan. You came here for a reason, not to just lose your temper in your soulmate’s apartment and tell him what you really thought about him.

“I have a proposition for you”, you asserted calmly, staring Jungkook in the eye as he remains unbothered.

“Now I reckon something’s happened to you to make you lose all your faith in soulmates, so I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Your eyebrows furrow when you speak focusedly.

“We don’t have to be together. That’s your will. But…”, you hesitate, pushing past the uncertainty and fear of another rejection from Jungkook, “will you let me at least try? You don’t have to promise anything. Can we just start as friends?”

Naturally, Jungkook wants to shoot down your offer, kick you out of his apartment, and pretend like he never met anyone by the name of Y/N. Call it divine intervention but when he looks at you, pleading for any semblance of connection, he feels a tug at his heart strings. So Jungkook makes another promise to himself. He would let you “try”, whatever that entails. But there was no virtual possibility of letting you any closer than necessary.

You both stand in contemplative silence before he lets out a resigned sigh. “On one condition”, he responds slowly, but there is already a premature grin growing on your face and you don’t think you could stop it even if you tried.

“You still have to be my model for the art portfolio.”

You agree before he even gets to take another breath.

“Deal.”

When you finally make your way out of Jungkook’s apartment, parting ways with an awkward number exchange and a ‘see you later’, there is a simultaneous feeling of hope and desolation. The optimism for Jungkook combines with the insecurity that perhaps you, just as you are, is not nearly enough to make someone fall in love. Especially someone who disregards their soul connection to you.

You walk back to your apartment with a heavy heart that warms with embers of determination. Jeon Jungkook was an enigma. A Bastille fortress of self-defense mechanisms and destructive tendencies, and you know that there is unresolved pain. Call it a soulmate instinct or something, but you see it in his eyes. You see it in the way his face begs to show emotion but his mind refuses to acknowledge.

You know Jungkook is not obligated to accept you after the dust settles, much less fall in love with you. Under the peach blossoms of the campus sidewalk, you make a promise anyway. To yourself and to your soulmate and the silly little mark on the inside of your wrist. Even if he does not love you, you vow to help Jungkook learn to love himself.

◓

When you are harshly woken up at 5:30 in the morning, the last person you expected to be blowing up your phone was Jeon Jungkook. If it weren’t for the pure exhaustion seeping through your bones, you would have been excited about your soulmate calling you. Alas, slumber was your soulmate now. Jungkook would have to step down.

On the other side of the paper thin wall, Jimin is frustratedly banging from his room, your ringtone reverberating throughout the entire apartment. You pick up his call without even opening your eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/N I need you to come to my apartment as soon as you can.” There is no sleepiness in his voice. Just clean and cold like it always is and he has hung up before you get the chance to scold him for waking you up at this unholy hour. You’re about to give him a piece of your mind but you remember he is paying you very handsomely for your efforts, and reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to call an uber. Thank god he doesn’t live too far away otherwise you’ll stick a foot through his canvas for the transportation bill.

The front of Jungkook’s apartment door is strangely therapeutic, and you find yourself falling asleep standing up after you’ve rung the doorbell. Either time passes too slowly when you are sleep-drunk or Jungkook moves to get the door as quickly as your grandfather does. Whatever the case, you are about to pass out on his doorstep if he doesn’t come soon.

“Y/N, why are you just standing there? The door has been open.”

“Jungkook. Why are you making me do this so early?”, you yawn, pushing inside the apartment.

Jungkook takes in your discombobulated appearance, and almost wants to laugh. You were still in your pajamas, and the bun on your head now looked more like a heaping blob that drooped down your temple. It was obvious that you had just rolled out of bed and he almost feels bad for disturbing your sleep, but he does not decide when his strokes of inspiration spontaneously appear.

The living room is bombarded with Jungkook’s art supplies and stray canvases, and you take note of the clay sculpting table that blends in as furniture next to his kitchen. You plop yourself down on the stool across from Jungkook’s easel, eyes still half closed and impossibly tired.

In this moment, Jungkook wipes the fact that you are his soulmate from his mind. He needs to do the portfolio. That is all he’s keeping you around for, and the only reason he agreed to your plan was so that you would remain his art model.

In the silence of his makeshift art studio, Jungkook paints whatever comes to his mind, referencing your figure on the stool for the curves he can never get right without a model and need for a human presence to translate onto his canvas. You become more lucid as time goes by and the sun starts to rise from outside his window, sitting up straighter and paying more attention to his concentrated face as Jungkook pours himself into his creation.

Looking at him in this light, you realize that he is beautiful. And not just because he’s your soulmate. Jungkook’s hair is scruffy and stubbled, undereyes sporting impressive dark circles. But the way he caresses the paintbrush and the way his body moves to the beat of the painting is poetic. He glances at you sporadically, eyes darting to and fro to capture as much as he can before the creativity burns out. He is beautiful and it makes your heart ache to know that he does not want you. In spite of the bond the universe has created.

You wonder if in his focused hazed, he notices the new glaze across your eyes and the silent sound of your soul calling out for his. You wipe away the first dripping tear as quickly as it came. You know Jungkook sees, but does not bat an eye and you can’t tell if you’d rather prefer him to acknowledge it.

It’s 8:00am when he puts the paintbrush down, takes a step back, and surveys his work. His eyes trail over each organic line and areas where he decided to use burnishing instead of cross hatching. It’s far from perfect, but it’s enough.

“Okay. You’re free to go”, he announces, plucking the painting off the easel and resting it against the wall, hidden from your eyes.

“W-What? That’s it?”, you sigh disappointedly, “you’re not even going to let me see it?” Jungkook shrugs. His detachedness makes you want to rip your hair out and sob into your pillow at the same time. You don’t understand how a person could be so unfazed.

“S’not ready for debut. Thanks for showing up, though.” He doesn’t spare you another glance. Just goes back to cleaning his brushes and dumping out the glasses of murky paint water. You ignore the twinge of hurt in your chest and slide off the stool.

“Okay, fine. Now it’s my turn. Would you like to go have some breakfast?”, you smile expectantly to Jungkook, who stares at you with an indifferent gaze. His first instinct is to make up a half-assed excuse to get out of this, eager to detach himself from you as much as possible and avoid any more interaction. However, he was insanely hungry, and the glimmer in your eye just looks so hopeful even Jungkook couldn’t bear to shoot you down.

He sighs with resignation. A little breakfast couldn’t hurt, and he wasn’t going with you necessarily. You were just...going to the same cafe in the same direction as him and likely sitting at the same table. Yeah, that’s it.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry.”

“Wait...actually?”

You blinked in shock at his lack of resistance.

“Yes. Now come on. I know a place with really great apple strudels.”

You weren’t aware that by ‘breakfast’, Jungkook actually meant sitting in complete silence and wolfing down food like your life depends on it. You want to be grossed out when he inhales 3 apple strudels in less than 10 minutes, crumbs flaking on his shirt without a care in the world. Yet you just feel endeared. The sight makes you smile. And maybe if Jungkook did not detest you, you would have leaned over and kissed the cinnamon sugar right off his lips.

“So….”, you sip on a sweet coffee, “Jimin told me you’re going for a masters in art history?”

Jungkook nods halfway through a bite of his pastry. “Yup.”

“Is it something you’re really passionate about?” you inquire, desperately wanting the conversation to delve into something that wasn’t so surface level.

“Uh huh.”

“What are some other things you’re interested in besides art?”

“Totally.”

Jungkook is completely clueless. He only spares glances to the windows and occasional looks to his oh so precious breakfast treats. You want to slap him and be angry, but you only sigh. It shouldn’t be so hard to talk to your soulmate, yet it felt like trying to pull teeth when he was so completely disinterested in you. You wonder if this is worth it.

You look up at him from your steaming cappuccino cup and use your wildcard.

“In my opinion, Botticelli’s Birth of Venus did little for the Italian Renaissance movement.”

Your statement almost has Jungkook falling backwards in his chair and choking on a piece of fruit filling, eyes growing as wide as saucers when he finally processes what you just said. A flaming insult to the entire art historian community.

“What do you know about Botticelli?”, he sneers, and you internally celebrate for this is the most emotion Jungkook has shown since meeting you.

“I know that his work supposedly epitomizes the spirit of the Renaissance”, you swirl the coffee in your cup nonchalantly, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “But if you ask me, Bellini’s San Giobbe Altarpiece did much more to encapsulate the values of 15th century Italy.”

Jungkook’s speechless expression is one that you want to take a snapshot of and frame it to your wall. It is glorious, and arguably more artful to you than Botticelli himself. So what, you had conveniently forgot to mention to him about the class you took junior year of college, with a professor that made you engrave the fundamentals of Italian painting in your brain. It’s so much more gratifying to see him stunned silent.

Across the table from you, Jungkook feels a warm smile itching to display itself. Before it can appear, he disguises it as a cold smirk. He feels something akin to a butterfly at the pit of his stomach, but blames it on indigestion and the inhuman pace at which he devoured his breakfast. Yeah that must be it. There was no way he was feeling butterflies.

He cracks his knuckles, raises his cup to gulp down a lukewarm green tea, and rests his elbows on the table separating the both of you.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me your thoughts on the influences of neo-classicism in the 18th century?”

◑

“No, Y/N, turn to your left a little”, Jungkook frustratedly sighs behind the camera lens.

“Your left or my left?”

He pauses. “....left.”

To any outside eye, you and Jungkook look like two buffoons trying to take pictures on what might possibly be the windiest day of the season, under the peach blossom trees. Jungkook had called you earlier that day and stressed about how he needed mixed media in his beloved portfolio, and photographs were the next topic of interest. Though you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just set out a fruit bowl on his windowsill and call it still life photography.

Jungkook stares down at his camera, dissatisfaction clear on his face. You almost want to apologize for your abhorrent modeling skills but hey, he was the one that chose you.

“Hmm...try staring at that boat in the distance”, he dictates, standing beside you and aiming the lens at your side profile. You do as he asks, but don’t hear the shutter of the camera. Jungkook sighs again and leans forward, so close you could feel his warm breath hitting your skin. You hope he doesn’t notice the beet blush on your cheeks.

Jungkook’s hands meet your chin when he uses it to slightly tilt your face downwards. He positions you in the way that he wants you to pose and you finally understand why photography is considered an art. Because it’s almost as if Jungkook is molding you like clay, to get the silhouette he wants to capture with his camera lens. The day is brisk, but his skin on your’s lights you on fire.

“Okay, that’s…..that’s perfect”, Jungkook breathes, hurriedly picking up the camera that had been hanging onto his neck by the strap and angling it. At the moment his index finger presses down on the button, there is a gust of wind that surrounds the both of you.

The breeze loosens a strand of your hair and it falls into your eyes. You let your eyes drift close for a second, smiling into the cold air that tingles on your skin. Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat and he thanks the skies for the howling wind so you wouldn’t be able to hear his thumping heartbeat. But surely it’s only because it’s cold. And absolutely nothing else. Jungkook coughs inconspicuously to snap himself out of his trance, sighing in relief when he realizes your eyes are still closed and that you hadn’t noticed his internal struggle.

He drags you to a bridge next and makes you lay on the cold wood to which you vehemently object before you remember that he’s paying you and that you want him to fall in love with you, not dislike you more than he already does. After the bridge, Jungkook makes you kneel beside the park pond and dip your hand in the icy water and you find yourself wanting to do the same thing to his precious camera.

Before the two of you have realized, the sun sets into the horizon and tinges the sky in a combination of purples and pinks that Jungkook himself has a hard time replicating on canvas. He aims his lens at the clouds and takes a picture that he knows won’t make it into his gallery. He just felt the need to have something to remember this day by. For no reason in particular…

A buzzing coming from your coat pocket alerts you both of the time that has passed and how the sky has considerably darkened since you began the session. When you fish your phone out, Jimin’s contact photo is staring back at you while the marimba ringtone continues playing. You put the phone on speaker.

“Hey Jiminie”, you smile and Jungkook catches a glance of it. And the discomfort in his chest is definitely, 100%, not jealousy. Not at all.

“I told you not to call me that! What is with you younger people and your disrespect for the elderly?” The corner of Jungkook’s lips twitch into a subtle smile at the similarity of your’s and his conversations with Jimin.

“Okay, okay, grandpa. What’s up?”

“Can you come home ASAP? I may or may not have broken the stove trying to make soup.”

The redundancy of his confession makes you sigh, as Park Jimin desecrating your shared kitchen space was not a rare occurrence by any means.

“I’ll be right there”, you chided through the line, “please do not cook anything else before I arrive.”

“Thanks Y/N-ie, you’re the best!” Jimin’s voice is far too cheery and you make a mental note to nag him a little extra when you get home. The phone call is ended promptly and you turn around to Jungkook, eyes widening in surprise when he has already packed up all his photography gear. The sky had turned dark and the streetlights had been turned on to illuminate the park. If you had craned your neck upwards, you would have noticed the stars that awoke again to shine down upon the city. But you didn’t. You only saw the stars that were twinkling in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Uh”, he stammers, “I’ll walk you home. It’s late.”

“Oh! Uh...Thanks.” Though he was still cold and indifferent, your heart jumped in elation. Perhaps this could be considered baby steps.

The trip home is quiet, only the sounds of your tandem footsteps on pavement and the rustle of a breeze through tree leaves fill the space of silence. But the quiet is not uncomfortable. Just a bit awkward as you two try to figure out how to be around one another. Jungkook’s hands are shoved in his pockets and your fingers itch to intertwine themselves around his own. To press your soulmate marks together and feel them calling out to each other. But you and Jungkook are anything but normal soulmates. For you are already head over heels in love with him and he is adamant on not sparing you a crumb of affection.

To your disdain, the apartment was closer than you thought and the short walk with Jungkook ended before it really even began. You could practically hear Jimin’s impatience emanating from the third story of the building.

“So I’ll see you later?”, you smile meekly. Jungkook readjusts the strap of his camera bag before nodding. He is walking away before you turn around to enter the apartment building and even though it was something small and mundane, you wished he would have waited to see you get in safely. You make your way inside, more downcast than you had been before.

You don’t see when Jungkook turns around. You don’t feel the reassurance that washes over him when the door shuts safely behind you.

That night, Jungkook is reminded far too much of Yoojung. When he goes to make his usual chamomile, he finds her mug at the very back of the tea cabinet. She must have forgotten it when she packed up her stuff. When he spoons in the sugar, he remembers how Yoojung drinks her tea with honey instead. And when he feels himself start to fall apart, he remembers how Yoojung is not there to keep him together.

Jungkook pushes away his pain, abandons the lukewarm mug of tea, and opts for an early bedtime to sleep away the ache. The camera sitting on his nightstand, though, beckons him to look over the photos you both had taken that afternoon.

In the moment, he had been dissatisfied with the pictures, always thinking there must be a better angle or a better position you could shift into. However when he looks down at his camera now, in the quiet and solemnity of his bedroom, Jungkook can’t help but to think they are absolutely perfect.

He doesn’t know whether to credit his own artistic skill or you; for breathing life into his photographs. It’s the lines of your hands, the slope of your nose, and the stray strands of your hair that makes his pictures more human.

The ones he ends up picking though, are not perfectly staged and not the ones where he made you change the position of your stance for 10 minutes. No, the best pictures were the ones he took without you noticing. When you had just been enjoying the cool breeze or admiring the beauty of peach blossom season. When you point out a cool looking bird and when you stared annoyedly past the cameras lens (at him no doubt).

Yoojung is gone from his mind for just a tiny fleeting moment. For little reason at all, Jungkook finds himself smiling. And there is only the company of the moon to see it.

◒

It is ten o’ clock in the morning and Jungkook comes to a realization that in the couple weeks since he has met you, he has sighed more times than he has in the past 23 years of life. Jungkook sighs when you text him first thing in the morning about the dream you had the night before and describe it in painfully vivid details. He leaves them unanswered. Sometimes he wished you would just email him the google document instead. He sighs when you fidget in your seat when he’s trying to paint and keep focus, but you are only interested in asking him the snacks he has in his fridge or when he’s going to finish. He sighs when you and Jimin collectively trash his art studio by spamming his $1,000 camera with ugly face pictures and sword fighting with his sable paint brushes. Jungkook often has a hard time believing that both of you are in graduate school.

Today, he sighs when you bombard into room 62B of the art building; what is supposed to be Jungkook’s completely zen and peaceful creative space. You are tiptoeing around him as you always do, scared that you’ll do something to set him off and your soulmate will disown you for good. He glances at you once, eyes quickly darting back to the sculpture he is molding on the clay table and saying nothing.

“There’s a new cafe that just opened right across from the apple strudel place”, you gulp tensely. “I was gonna go check out the competition.” Your words seem deaf to Jungkook’s ear and he only furrows his eyebrows, fingers fussing over the mass of clay. There was just something he couldn’t get right. He didn’t know what it was.

Jungkook pushes away the sculpture frustratedly, wipes his hands on his apron, and finally looks at you. Maybe he did need a break and come back to it with fresh eyes. That’s all it was, though. A break. He wasn’t going because you asked him to.

“They better have blonde roast otherwise you’ll be compensating me for my time.” Jungkook is as ruthless and blunt as ever and you decide to look past it as you always do. Him agreeing to go with you was a mini success.

“Welcome in! You’ve stopped by at the perfect time. The strawberry scones have just been taken out of the oven!” The cafe employee is far too enthusiastic for receiving minimum wage and greeting grumpy people off the streets who just want to be caffeinated. His name tag reads Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, strawberry is my favorite”, you whisper, the statement only meant for your ears but Jungkook picks up on it anyway. He declines to tell you that strawberry is his favorite as well. Hoseok’s eyes light up when you and Jungkook approach the entrance, like he finally succeeded at luring a customer.

The cafe isn’t anything special. A bit more modern compared to the one across the street and you think you prefer the latter because this new one doesn’t have the owner’s handsome son standing at the cash register. He may not be your soulmate, but even you had to admit Kim Seokjin was a beautiful man if there ever was one. However, this cafe is warm and has ceiling length windows that let in an obscene amount of sunlight. Jungkook makes a mental note to try some pictures here in the future.

Jungkook’s phone buzzes in his pocket and you are already leaving him behind in the dust, walking straight to the counter and peering up at the menu deep in thought. You turn around to see that he is immersed in mysterious conversation, and take it upon yourself to order him a drink.

“I’ll have a matcha latte. And uh…”, you decide, trailing off as you wonder what kind of drink Jungkook would enjoy. “And an iced vanilla mocha latte, extra whipped cream, extra chocolate syrup. Do you guys have rainbow sprinkles?”

A little sugar never hurt anyone. Especially someone so often bitter like your one and only soulmate.

When Jungkook hangs up and makes his way to the corner table where you are situated, the sight of the concoction on the table is enough to give him an instant cavity. You hide your smile behind the mug of matcha. He grumbles and sits down swiftly, sticking the straw past his lips in defiance and you can only watch expectantly.

“Well…do you like it?”

This is when Jungkook realizes you didn’t order this to spite him. You just had completely zero idea what he liked and disliked and chose the first thing you thought was best. As cold as he is, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that when he drinks coffee, he likes it black. No cream, no sugar, and the darkest roast with the most caffeine to push him through those nights spent in front of a canvas or over a clay table.

Jungkook fights to keep steady from the ambush of sugar and wills himself to swallow it down. There is sticky chocolate syrup on his hands and it feels cosmically more uncomfortable than paint. But Jungkook manages to look up at you and nod, to which you reward with a smile.

“I knew you would like it”, you say smugly, giving yourself a mental pat on the back. “You look like you have a giant sweet tooth.” There is a mellow giggle that follows your statement. Jungkook feels a flutter at the bottom of his stomach, and convinces himself it’s only because it sounds so much like Yoojung. He catches sight of the moon on your wrist, and pushes the feeling away even farther.

The two of you spend the rest of the midday there, tucked away in a corner of a cafe and losing track of time as you always do. Jungkook finds himself forgetting about the mountains of work he has to do to finish his art gallery portfolio, and the unfinished sculpture back at the studio that’s just not right.

Today, he allows himself to enjoy your presence and get to know you more. Your favorite color is yellow. You had a dog named Benny when you were a child. You detest beer with a passion, but enjoy a nightly glass of pinot grigio. Jungkook barely notices when the entire cup of coffee has disappeared. Every last rainbow sprinkle.

On second thought, he feels that maybe there was something sweeter than his unexpectedly delicious iced vanilla mocha latte with extra whipped cream. Maybe that something was sitting right across from him, rambling about the fundamentals of English literature with unexplained vigor.

Jungkook’s soul feels lighter when he goes to bed that night. And when he finally succumbs to Morpheus, his last lucid thought is of you; sun beams coming from the large cafe windows that comb through your hair. He looks at you through his mind’s eye and all he can see is the potential heartbreak you have the power to put him through. The fan of your eyelashes. The curve of your smile. The plush of your lips. All he can see is Yoojung as she crushes his soul in her bare hands.

Yet in the midst of his internal conflict, Jungkook’s subconscious allows him to fall in love with you a little bit. Perhaps not love just yet, but affection. Like a toe dip in uncharted waters or sticking his finger in a bowl of creamy cake batter just for a taste. The walls he has built are still there, strong as ever, but perhaps a couple bricks look a bit askew. He doesn’t know, but his soul calls out to your’s through the fortress.

◐

“Y/N I don’t know why you thought this was a good idea.”

“Oh hush, just close your eyes and point where your heart tells you to.”

In the lobby of a train station, facing a map and an ETA board is where you and Jungkook will be embarking on your next “date but not really because you don’t believe in soulmates so let’s just hang out”. It had taken a good two hours of nagging and whining on your part to convince him to abandon his portfolio for just a little bit to go an outing. Now standing here, with you excitedly bouncing next to him and a mystery destination, Jungkook feels something akin to utter regret.

“What if I choose somewhere that’s a thousand miles away? Or just in the middle of nowhere?”, Jungkook groans, still putting up an unbothered and cold front.

“Well then we will go somewhere that’s a thousand miles away or in the middle of nowhere”, you quipped back at him. Jungkook had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one.

He reluctantly places a hand over his eyes, sighing with resignation before pointing to a random spot on the map. There is a giggle that sounds to his left and Jungkook finds himself wanting to hear more.

“Wonderful choice”, you smiled, “couldn’t have picked it better myself.”

Jungkook peeked his eyes open one at a time, scared of seeing what his intuition has chosen for your guys’ spontaneous destination. He breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees that his fingers landed on a town on the outskirts of the city, 20 minutes away from the university. He silently thanks the universe for not sabotaging his wallet and time.

“We’re never doing this again, Y/N”, Jungkook speaks as you are in front of him, skipping happily to the front desk to buy two train tickets.

“Wasn’t it fun, though? The thrill?”, you chuckle at his demeanor, to which he only shakes his head vehemently. You note the newest thing you’ve just learned about Jungkook: he has an aversion to uncertainty and spontaneity.

The train ride was as brief as it was uneventful. You spent the time rambling to Jungkook about all the quips and quirks about yourself and he only listened. Though he kept quiet, his face was free of any annoyance or indication that you were speaking too much. Jungkook only stared at you and unknowing to you, he soaked in every bit of information like a sponge. If anyone asked, he could tell them what foods you were allergic to, what colors wash you out, and what vegetables you hated the most.

“Wow you didn’t have to pick somewhere so far away, Jungkook.” You muse as the two of you step out of the train car. So far away in fact, that if you were to crane your head up enough, you would be able to see the university from a distance.

“Hey, you were the one who made me choose”, Jungkook spares a rare smile, “Would you rather we have shelled out our wallets to go on an 18-hour train ride?”

“Okay, fair point.”

The city was as abundant as it was big, and the both of you walked aimlessly from avenue to avenue, stopping occasionally whenever you see a dog you just can’t help but to pet or whenever Jungkook complained about his sore feet. As cold and indifferent as Jungkook made himself out to be, you’ve quickly come to realize that he’s actually a big baby. He still hasn’t let you in or even lowered his walls by a tiny centimeter, but you like to think that even agreeing to go anywhere with you could be considered significant progress.

Jungkook doesn’t notice the pounding of his heart whenever his hands graze against your’s, walking side by side so close he can feel the heat emanating through your coat. He doesn’t notice the peace he feels, just the synchronicity of his feet as he places them on the pavement.

The fraught wind that blows straight at Jungkook’s face prompts him to look up from where his eyes were cast on the ground. He almost staggers at how strong it is, but finds himself weak in the knees for a completely different reason.

Of course.

Of all the days, of all the times, of all the people in this entire city.

Of course she had to be the one that was currently staring at him from across the intersection.

The red light seems to go on forever. Either that or time has just spontaneously frozen, Jungkook can’t tell. But his eyes are fixed on hers and his feet bolster him to the concrete when all he wants to do is sprint the other way and forget he ever saw this ghost from the past.

Yoojung looks as beautiful as the day she left him.

She’s gained some weight and her cheeks have filled out, but it looks healthy on her now (Jungkook always chided her for forgetting to eat). She stares at him with a combination of shock and guilt and something he wants to overthink into affection but he won’t give himself that satisfaction anymore. She dyed her hair. Light brown looks good on her.

She looks...happy. As happy as anyone can look when they’re rushing through thick crowds of a city, traffic horns blaring like a dilapidated symphony.

In the heat of it all, it’s impossible for you not to notice Jungkook’s sudden change in demeanor or the way he has suddenly stopped breathing. When you follow his gaze, there is a girl on the other side of the street that shares the same starstruck expression and even from the outside looking in, you can feel the weight of something painful in his eyes. In her stature.

When the lights turn green, the throngs of city dwellers migrate across and you stay beside Jungkook when he doesn’t move a muscle. Not even a finger twitch. But she does. And he can only fight to keep the ache away when Yoojung gets closer with every millisecond. Until she is standing right in front of him and he can smell her familiar vanilla perfume.

“Jungkook”, she speaks, apprehension in her voice. “It’s been a while...how are you?”

Yoojung only spares you a side glance while keeping attention on Jungkook and you only grow more curious as to who this strange woman is.

He wants to speak so badly but his tongue remains frozen. He turns to you with flabbergast in his eyes and shakes his head to snap out of the daze of confusion. Of seeing the love of his life again. Or who he thought was the love of his life.

“Could you give us a minute, Y/N?”

You didn’t know why but the words that came from his lips made you feel disappointed. Perhaps you were just stupid for thinking he would introduce you. Tell her that you’re his soulmate and scream it at the top of his lungs with sheer pride. But your imagination has hurt you countless times and you had a feeling this one wouldn’t be the last. You manage a curt nod and push away the twinge in your heart. There was a boundary between you and Jungkook and today was not the day to cross it and introduce yourself as his soulmate to any random stranger.

Once you are out of vicinity and have found solace in a bookstore 10 feet away, Jungkook allows himself to breathe in Yoojung’s presence.

“I didn’t know if you were still in the city”, he falters, voice coming out quieter than he would have liked it to. But what was he supposed to sound like confronting the supposed love of his life.

“I never left, Jungkook...my entire life is here.” She sighs, smiling lightly with eyes seeping with guilt.

He scoffs. “I don’t know Yoojung, you seem to leave behind important things pretty easily.” Jungkook feels himself getting angrier and resentful by the second, and though he knows it is unfair of him, Yoojung’s mere presence brings back all the wounds he never truly healed from.

Granted, on a concrete sidewalk next to a traffic light pole was not the best place to have a heart to heart about failed relationships. But when has the universe ever given Jungkook the best things in life. He is devastatingly cynical for someone who dedicates his career to art.

Yoojung wears a frown on her face, but there is no vindictiveness there. Just an overwhelming sense of remorse that Jungkook communicates as pity.

“I don’t know how else to say that I’m sorry”, she sighs, eyes falling to the ground. Jungkook wishes it would just open up and swallow him whole.

“Then don’t say anything.” He turns to walk away.

“Wait! Jungkook can we...can’t we catch up or something? For a couple minutes?” Yoojung is visibly desperate, and her hands are outstretched as if wanting to touch him but keeping herself from overstepping the line.

Jungkook glances through the window of the bookstore, and you are situated on a chair, already nose deep in a hefty book. He wants to smile and tease you for being such a nerd, but the weight of Yoojung’s presence makes him reinforce those walls of indifference tenfold.

He exhales frustration and inhales temptation, looking back into Yoojung’s familiar eyes and nodding. Jungkook walks to a nearby bench and sits down with no words exchanged, looking forward coldly even when he feels her warmth next to him. A couple months ago, Jungkook would have set all his canvases on fire to feel her beside him again. Now, he’s not so sure.

“So…”, she starts, “who’s that cute girl you were with?”

“No one.” He shoots out a little too soon with no hesitation. Yoojung gulps.

“You know Jungkook, it’s okay to find someone. I-I know I hurt you, but I’m glad if you’ve found someone who doesn’t.” Jungkook doesn’t say anything so she continues.

“I’m really happy for-”

“I never really forgave you Yoojung.” He stares blankly at the passersby and tries to ignore the ache in his bones. The one that’s been there the day she left and took a piece of his heart with her.

“And I don’t want to blame you for my decisions but I want you to know that I push away a lot of people because of you. People that don’t deserve it.” From the corner of his eye, he can see her nod solemnly to his words and fidget with her hands in her lap. Part of him feels guilty for unloading on Yoojung. Part of him feels like maybe he deserves to.

“What you did was really shitty. Astronomically fucking shitty. And I’ve spent the past eternity hating you and maybe I still do, but…”, Jungkook takes a deep breath, “I want to forgive you now. If not fully, then partially. I hope you can understand that.” He finally tilts his head to look at her and though the smile on her face is as beautiful as he remembers it to be, Jungkook no longer feels the longing. No longer feels the sting that he usually does when his thoughts take him back to the years they spent together.

Jungkook doesn’t want to call it closure, not yet anyway. Sitting here on the bench, he still wants to scream and yell and tell Yoojung of all the nights he’s spent alone since she left. He still wants to drag her back and wonder if she could love him again like she used to.

But he doesn’t. He listens when she tells him about her new job and her new apartment right by the lakeside. They share snippets of their separate lives. Just deep enough to rekindle something warm but shallow enough to not invite anything else in.

When he walks away from the bench and into the bookstore, Jungkook stills feels the walls that he has built around himself. He is still scared of opening up and being vulnerable but the anger held for Yoojung for so long is no longer a raging fire. More so a wickering flame.

When he spots you, though, he remembers why he built those walls in the first place. He remembers how easy it used to be for him to climb a high peak and fall to his demise. Your eyes widen when you catch sight of him, lips curling into a wide smile and clear excitement in your expression. The book in your hands is tossed aside and tunnel vision reserved for him and him only. Something blooms in his chest and he can’t remember the last time someone’s been so elated to just simply see him...aside from his dog. Jungkook reminds himself to act uncaring. If he pretends long enough, he’ll start to believe it himself.

◓

The train ride home feels longer than the one there. The minutes drag by and perhaps it is because of your drooping eyes or the way Jungkook is looking at you with a different tenderness than he has been before. His stare is not harsh. It’s soft and sweet, but subtle enough for you to wonder if you are just imagining it. The night has always been unforgiving and cold even in the spring, but perhaps all that’s needed to breathe some warmth, is a 15 minute train ride and a wrist with a crescent moon.

Yet every time you become more smitten with Jungkook, there is a harsh reminder that follows you everywhere like a designated storm cloud.

Jungkook does not love you. And you are trying and you will continue to try but his eyes tell you something he is too courteous to say. You see it now as he sits across from you and admires the skyline from the window. It makes you wonder if it is soulmates he doesn’t believe in, or if it is just you that he can’t bring himself to accept. With every cold glance and wall that he puts up, you start to convince yourself that it is the latter.

“We’re here, Y/N”, Jungkook speaks quietly, interrupting your drifting thoughts. He turns around and leaves the train car with hands tucked in his coat pocket. Did you expect him to escort you out and hold your hand? Of course not. But you were tired of Jungkook being so indifferent to your existence.

You follow him glumly out the doors that slide close after you step through. Then it zips off again and you wonder where it would have taken you if you just stayed in your seat. If Jungkook would have even noticed that you hadn’t followed him when he left.

You sigh into the night air and wish it was winter so that your breath could be visible as a white cloud. Maybe then Jungkook would notice that you were a living being beside him.

“Who was that girl that we met back there?”, you murmur hesitantly. Jungkook nearly chokes on air.

“No one”, he responds curtly, effectively cutting off the conversation then and there. It makes your heart sink. She must be important and all you want to do is know every single detail about their relationship, but the look in his eyes warn you to not pry.

You don’t think you can forget the way Jungkook looked at her from across the street. Like he had been lost this whole time and she was the North star. You saw the way his eyes twinkled in the midday sun and sparkled even more when she came closer. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to have that effect on him.

“Hey, next time you should pick a place you and I both do not live in”, you giggle, nudging his shoulder with your own. It makes him smile and even though your heart feels heavy in your chest, Jungkook looks so beautiful when he smiles.

The two pair of feet subconsciously carry you both to the front door of your apartment building and the scene is too familiar from the last time. You expect him to turn around and whisper a hushed goodnight under his breath, and you’ll have to watch the back of his head disappear down the street. But he doesn’t. Just stands across from you quietly and waits for you to say something. So you do.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry if I brought up something you didn’t want to remember. I don’t really know your story but it seems you two have a lot of history.” You want to tell him how hard it is for you to be his soulmate when he is so clearly vying for the warmth of someone else. Someone who didn’t have a crescent moon on her wrist.

“I know you’ll tell me whenever you’re ready, and if that’s never then I’ll keep waiting until forever. But I’m here if you want to talk or unload and I already know I can help because…” you fidget with your hands and look around nervously.

“Well, because I’m your soulmate.”

When you say it loud and explicitly, Jungkook thought the statement would have made him recoil. But it doesn’t. It just seeps through his consciousness and feels warm when he thinks about the weight of those words. You are his soulmate, regardless of if he believes in such a thing or not. You carry the same mark as he does on your wrist and somehow, by some intangible factor, the universe had decided that you were created for him and he for you.

And when he looks at you. Really looks at you. When Jungkook processes your sincere words and how you manage to deal with his insurmountable boundaries even when you barely know him…

Jungkook has never wanted to kiss you more.

So he does.

Your lips taste like mint chewing gum and the ghost of words you wish to tell him but can’t. He feels you stiffen until you completely melt in his hold, and Jungkook cradles your face with both his hands, pulling you closer to him until there is no barrier between you but the clothes on your back and the emotional distance. You feel so far away even when you’re this near. Was it a trick of your imagination when you felt the moon on your wrist tingling?

It doesn’t last as long as you would’ve liked it to. Jungkook yanks his hands from you like your skin scalded him and takes several steps back. His chest rises up and down violently when his breath comes out ragged, posture stiffening as the gravity of what just happened finally absorbs. You’re there, he knows you’re there and standing in front of him. So why is it he can only see Yoojung. Yoojung and the star on her wrist and apologies on her lips. Yoojung and the tears in her eyes when she walks away.

You can only stare confusedly when his body goes rigid, and a sudden coldness envelops you both.

And in the haze of post-embrace, like any two normal lovers, you catch something in his eyes that sets a heavy feeling in your stomach. Before you can confirm if it’s just a trick of the light, Jungkook is already running in the opposite direction and you can only see a shadow of sullen love that follows him. He is gone and you are standing alone, wondering how moonlight could feel so cold even on a spring night.

You don’t get any sleep that night. Every time you close your eyes, there is only the sight of Jungkook’s disgust and regret to lull you to dreams.

20 minutes away from your apartment, there is a boy who doesn’t sleep either. He won’t text or call to tell you that he can’t shake off the feeling of your skin on his and your breath fanning his cheek. He won’t admit to himself that tonight, when he looked at you, he felt the possibility of falling in love. He won’t tell you that the moon on his skin longs to be traced by your hands. No, he just shares those secrets with his pillow as its linen soaks up his tears.

In the midst of it all, there is one verdict that becomes clear to him.

Jungkook wishes he had never told Jimin he needed a muse.

◑

The next three weeks is dedicated to trying to get in touch with your soulmate. Through the whirlwinds of utter confusion and desperation, you try texting, calling, emailing, even showing up at his art studio and apartment to no avail. It seemed he had a talent for avoiding soulmates.

It hurt, to say the least. That he left you high and dry after giving you the most intense

kiss of your life and doesn’t even have the decency to let you know he’s alive. The feeling of his lips still burns on your skin and you wonder if you are a complete fool for being so smitten with a person who, quite possibly, hasn’t spared you a single thought after that night. You just want - no you just need some clarity.

Jungkook makes you wait another week before replying.

It is an impossibly sunny day when you wake up. Your neck is stiff from sleeping like a contortionist and your heart aches even more than your muscles with every passing morning with radio silence from your soulmate. You want to call him and tell him you’re sorry. That you’ll forget anything ever happened. It hurts to even think about it, but for Jungkook, you would go through a little more pain so he would let you into his life.

Outside the hall, Jimin is singing along to a familiar melody of a song you don’t know the name of and judging by the aroma that wafts through the cracks of your door, he has successfully made a pot of coffee. He has been an anchor throughout this whole thing, and sometimes you make a secret wish to the stars that Jimin had been the one with a crescent moon on his wrist instead. Perhaps that way, you wouldn’t have to go through the agony of chasing love that is constantly sprinting away from you.

Your phone lays on the bedside table and buzzes innocently to start the morning. When you reach over and scroll through notifications routinely, there is a name there that makes your heart pang. Makes you want to throw up and celebrate at the same time. A text from Jungkook. Your fingers shake as you open it.

I no longer need a model for the portfolio. Thank you for your involvement. Compensation will be provided promptly.

The day you met him, you already knew that Jungkook was cold. He never dawdled around a painful truth or toed the line between bluntness and sparing feelings. Jungkook spoke his mind, collateral damage be damned. But this is a different type of cold. This one feels more like dry ice on warm skin. Like the numbing chill of a fading hope. Like winter’s first snowfall when autumn had promised you it would forever stay.

Phone in your hand and tears threatening to drip down your cheeks, you wish you would have waited a bit more before opening his text. Perhaps that way you could have spent the rest of your morning basking in the spring sun, drinking Jimin’s inevitably bad coffee, having hope that Jeon Jungkook would grow to care for you. Perhaps if you hadn’t opened it so soon, your soulmate would still seem in reach.

Jimin’s mug nearly drops out of his hand when the door of your bedroom is slammed open. He flings it to the side when he notices your red-rimmed eyes and the shaking hands that clutch onto a cellphone. You scream and sob at the universe, at anyone, asking why it was you that had to experience the chaos of longing. Jimin was there to hold you, as he always is, and helplessly listen to the sound of your heart breaking once again by the hands of Jungkook.

◒

Room 62B of the art building is a place you hope to never have to visit again. Though it’s walls contain memories of you and Jungkook, and the evenings navigating his gallery portfolio along with your convoluted relationship, the wallpaper bleeds with a longing ache. A yearning pain. And if those walls could talk, you don’t think you would want them to say anything at all. They would only murmur what you are slowly accepting to be true.

Jungkook, your soulmate, wants nothing to do with you.

When you hesitantly rap on the door with a fisted hand, the sound of him rustling from inside makes you want to run the opposite direction. It opens before you get the chance to change your mind and the sight of him nearly takes your breath away. He is beautiful as he always is, hair ruffled and mussed from undoubtedly running his hands through it compulsively. His lips are pink from biting on them and the dark circles under his eyes tells you of the dreams he has deprived himself of.

Jungkook is painfully gorgeous and painfully not yours.

“Y/N...I sent you a text earlier.” His voice is saccharine but the words taste so bitter.

“I know. I read it”, you murmur, shrinking in on yourself.

“I....Can we talk, Jungkook?”

His eyes dart around nervously at your question, chewing on his bottom lip and tapping the toe of his shoe as if he was impatient and you were bothering him. And you have known that simply being around Jungkook hurts but the light at the end of the tunnel only continues dwindling.

You understand why he is acting so restless when your gaze drifts past him and into the room. There is a girl perched on a stool, across from a canvas and easel that you know awfully well. You don’t recognize her but it’s only in your nature to begin comparing every aspect of yourself to this stranger. She sits on her hands and swings her legs back and forth, head in the clouds and eyes trailing the ceiling. She isn’t aware of the weight of her presence in the studio, nor the turmoil she has brought to you, who is standing just outside the door.

The oxygen in the hallway thins and the breath you’ve been waiting to release since knocking catches in your throat. Coming here, you prepared yourself for a long and inevitably heart-wrenching talk with your soulmate. But you hadn’t prepared for the possibility that he had replaced you overnight.

The only thought that blares through your mind is that this is your fault. For letting yourself think you were worth more to Jeon Jungkook than any other stranger. You can no longer find it in yourself to be angry at him. Just yourself.

“You…”, you gulp down a whimper, “you replaced me.”

Jungkook follows your vacant stare past him and sighs, realizing you had most likely deducted what this scene looked like. You would be right. Between the weeks of trying to understand what you were to him and the impending due date of the portfolio, Jungkook was sure the best way to move past this confusion was to just speed full steam ahead. That meant finding another muse. You were no longer an option.

You only stare down at the floor, but Jungkook begins speaking anyway.

“Y/N, I…I’m sorry.” You scoff at his words, feigning anger when inside, you truly didn’t know if you could piece yourself back together this time.

“Look, Y/N. It’s not you. It’s just that…”, he breathes deep, not knowing why it was so hard to say. “I’ve stopped believing soulmates were truly a thing a long time ago. I’m sorry.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard these words but it doesn’t mean they hurt any less.

“I didn’t want to initiate anything, Y/N, but you did and I let you and that was my fault to let anything start. I shouldn’t have when I knew nothing would come of it.”

It was a fault to him. It never should have happened.

“So you just thought you would kiss me and decide that I meant nothing to you afterwards?”

“It was a mistake.” It was painful to think it but when you hear Jungkook say it, you experience a new kind of ache. A humorless chuckle bubbles past your throat.

“I really thought you would grow to love me. Now I know it’s not your fault that I’m a complete fool. To fall head over heels for my soulmate who wishes he had never even met me. Much less share a mark.”

You can see Jungkook’s eyes widen at your confession, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It was the truth. He deserved to hear it.

“You shouldn’t. You can’t.” He reaches up to pull at his hair frustratedly.

“Can’t what, Jungkook? Love you? You think I want to be in love with someone who wishes I didn’t exist?” You hate your voice for breaking, but its impossibly painful when he does nothing to deny your statement.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? What can I say to make this better?”

Try: I love you too.

“I don’t need you to say anything you don’t mean, Jungkook.”

“Then shouldn’t you leave?”

Jeon Jungkook is cruel even when he doesn’t mean to be. There is oblivion in his gaze, and his question is one of genuine curiosity. But it still stabs you exactly where your heart is most tender. Yes, I should have left.

“I guess I thought you were worth the pain, Jungkook. When you pushed me away and wanted nothing to do with me, I thought you were worth hurting for just to try a little more. Worth the uncertainty of being around you but never getting to actually be with you”, you numbly mutter, uncaring about the rivulets of tears down your face. Not like it wasn’t something he’s never seen before. There is more to come on the tip of your tongue, and Jungkook stays quiet to let you speak. There is conflict in his vision, but you don’t want to give yourself the false hope that he cares for you.

Look where that has gotten you before.

“You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Saying the words are revelation for you as much as it is for him. All this time, you’ve been running away from the truth in the pursuit of your soulmate. You hadn’t realized that the chase led you astray.

“And I know that loving me is not easy. I’m…”, you force the words out so he can at least hear your turmoil by his hands. “I’m never really good enough for anyone. Why did I expect that I would be good enough for you?”

Jungkook’s expression crumples into a frown. “Y/N, no, that’s not what I mean-”

“You don’t have to tell me what you mean, Jungkook. I meet you and the first thing you say is that you don’t believe in such a thing. I try to get close to you and all you know to do is push me away. And I try so hard to be enough but how can I when Yoojung still has your heart? So you don’t have to say it. I know what you mean.” You’ve stopped crying but the ache relents, and you can only look desperately at the boy who’s slipping from your grasp with every passing second.

“I’m sorry.” The message is redundant.

“I can’t…” Rip off the bandaid.

“I just can’t love you.”

The words make their way past his lips before he can stop them, and they shoot through your core ruthlessly. A sharpened dagger to soft flesh. It manifests itself in a physical pain that reverberates across your chest, and when the last strength left in you is used to stare at Jungkook through a pained and teary gaze, you are deaf to everything but those four words.

I can’t love you.

You’re not sure what he is sorry for at this point. If Jungkook is apologizing for not loving you, you don’t blame him. If he is sorry for entertaining the possibility, you don’t blame him. If he is sorry that you are the one with a crescent moon on your wrist, well...you don’t blame him either. All your life you cherished it like some kind of gift from the universe. Now, nursing your crumbling soul in front of Jungkook, you wish it had never appeared in the first place.

You shake your head, tucking your lip in between your teeth to stop the sob in your chest from escaping. Through the crack of the door Jungkook hadn’t shut fully, the girl was still there, patiently sitting where you were supposed to and making herself scarce after inevitably hearing you bare your heart to a boy who had no interest in it.

Humiliation goes hand in hand with heartbreak, and the embarrassment that comes with confessing your love and insecurity urges your feet to run home. But even you cannot deprive yourself of looking at him one more time.

His wavy head of hair. The scar on his cheekbone that makes him look even more beautiful, if that were possible. The gloss in his dark brown eyes, and the way he looks at you through stone cold walls. You commit it to memory, however painful, before you walk out of his life.

“Be happy, Jungkook.”

You truly mean it.

◐

The sound of your footsteps getting farther away from him is a sound Jungkook thinks he’ll remember for a long time. It almost prompts him to run after you, cradle you to his chest, and profess how sorry he is again and again until you can truly feel the sincerity. But he doesn’t. Only remains behind the self-procured walls and watches when your figure disappears down the hallway.

Cold. Unbothered. Indifferent. That’s what he had always told himself when it came to you. But the hallway feels so lonely and the ghost of your presence feels even lonelier, and Jungkook wonders if he had been wrong.

He walks back into the studio, permanent frown on his face and shoulders hunched over in stress. The paintbrush feels like a stranger rather than an extension of his arm, as it always does, but Jungkook begins painting anyway. Looking at the girl in front of him, he is reminded of the look on your face when you realized he had replaced you completely in the span of three weeks, without even giving you a notice. Her presence in his art studio suddenly feels entirely suffocating.

“Mina, Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out of my studio. I don’t need you as a model, anymore. Thanks.” His voice cut through the tension of the room, like a hot knife to butter. He recognizes it as the voice he always forces himself to use around you, and grows even more aggravated.

The girl scoffs annoyedly, snatching her handbag from the floor and rushing out of the room. Obviously she had thought something more was to come from Jungkook’s art arrangement. He made sure to let her know that was not the case.

There is a gnawing in his chest. Deep and subtle, but it becomes more prominent as the window view from his studio turns from blue to black. He ponders about spending the night in here, instead of going home to his bedroom where he is forced to consult with the agony of solitude. On top of everything today, Jungkook doesn’t think he can handle that.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the pain in your face when he tells you that he can’t love you and he hears the shaking in your voice when you tell him the things that weighed on your soul. He thought the word “wither” was only reserved for flowers. Jungkook didn’t realize a person could wither until he saw it right in front of him.

In truth, he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he could love you or not. And to Jungkook, that was already a feat in itself. He’s spent so many months convincing himself that his emotional fortress was impregnable. So many nights over whiskey bottles telling himself that love was only for fools and pretenders. To be uncertain about love, now, well...that’s something he is not yet ready to admit to himself. Much less admit to you. But letting you any closer was a fatal game.

Being uncertain about love means being uncertain about getting hurt. Jungkook has a feeling he wouldn’t make it out in one piece if his heart fell into wrong hands.

He does end up returning to his apartment that night. But the walk feels far too long and the air feels far too frigid, or perhaps is it because he can’t hear the tread of your footsteps beside him?

Whatever the reason, tonight feels more lonely.

The stars tell him it’s because he does not like the person he’s alone with.

Back in room 62B, there is an abandoned painting on a rickety easel. He hadn’t even had the will to wash out his paintbrush, and he’s sure he’ll pay for it the next day. Looking at the piece now, his professor would tell him that there’s too many colors. Too much contrast and nearly not enough depth in his strokes. But what was he to do when he had kicked out his new model and couldn’t get the image of your visible heartbreak out of his brain?

A familiar wrist with a quaint crescent moon sits on the canvas, and he sure as hell didn’t use Mina as the inspiration. Jungkook reminds himself to throw out the painting tomorrow morning.

◓

The grease on Jimin’s skillet pan is always so hard to clean. The dish soap never truly cuts through the oil, and no matter how much you rinse it over with scalding water, it still feels soiled. On a normal day, it wouldn’t frustrate you so much. Today, a month-and-a-half after your soulmate made it clear to you that you had no place in his life, you want to throw the pan out the window and cry on the kitchen floor until it collapses with the weight of your tears.

You settle for throwing down the sponge and making Jimin wash his own dishes.

The phone-that you usually now tend to ignore-buzzes on the counter, and you groan at your complete lack of desire to answer it. But the screen lights up with your roommate’s name and you hit the green button.

“Y/N! How are you feeling, lovebug?” Jimin’s cheerful tone on speakerphone makes you want to cry. You can only imagine how terrible it is for him to be your roommate when all you know how to do now is mope and cry about a boy who probably hasn’t thought about you since. But he’s been holding you through all your breakdowns, and even sets up the air mattress on the floor of your bedroom when some nights are a little bit harder than most.

“I’ve had better days”, you glare at the pan in the sink. “What’s up?’

“So I have a friend…”

“Jimin, no.”

He sighs over the phone understandingly, but still not satisfied. “I know it’s only been a month Y/N, but it doesn’t have to be anything. He’s not looking for anything serious either. But maybe it would be good for you to take your mind off things.”

It’s been a month. Four weeks. Roughly 31 days, and you still remember every word he said to you in the hallway of the art building. Every pause and quiver of his breath, and the way he looked so completely indifferent to your pain. Was one month enough for you to let go even after finding out Jungkook never planned to hold on in the first place?

“Look, you don’t have to decide now. I’m sorry for pushing you if you’re not ready.” His mumbling is apologetic and it makes you realize that Jimin genuinely means well. Maybe you weren’t ready to move on from Jungkook yet. Maybe you never will be. He was your damn soulmate, after all. But maybe a distraction couldn’t hurt.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll do it.”

You can practically feel him smiling like an idiot over the phone. “Really?!” You sigh into the speaker and Jimin knows better to continue talking before you change your mind.

“His name is Namjoon, he works with me at the office. Super cute. Super hot. Super smart. Checks all your boxes!”, he rambles on about the nitty gritty details and though a part you is proud that you’re making the decision to move on with life, you can’t help but to realize that no one will ever be able to “check all your boxes”.

Not if they’re not Jungkook.

“He sounds great, Jimin.” Anyone can tell your happiness is disingenuous, even through the phone. Jimin tells you that he had already planned a date (without your knowledge), and sends you on your way with a quick goodbye when his taxi arrives. The silence of the apartment after the conversation leaves you feeling even more weighted, but hopeful for the possibility of a distraction. You had a feeling you won’t be able to forget the likes of Jeon Jungkook if you tried. But, if only for a night, you were to forget the pain of loving him, you’ll take that chance.

◑

“What do you mean they all ‘feel the same’?” Jungkook is exasperated. He had drafted a complete version of his portfolio, working through the nights by the sweat of his brow. Now his professor was telling him that all his pieces felt the same and Jungkook thinks he might commit arson to the art studio.

Professor Sejin sighs contemplatively, taking off his glasses and throwing them on the table, all too familiar with Jungkook’s periodic art tantrums.

“I mean that your pieces lack any variegation. The portfolio is well done and coherent, but the completed package is one-noted. It’s consistent. But too much so.”

Professor Sejin’s words make him fall back into the chair dejectedly, shoulders slumped and disappointment in his eyes at the critique of his art. Though it is hard to hear, Jungkook always welcomes productive criticism. The older man sympathizes with his downcast eyes and the visible stress on his back.

“Look, Jungkook”, he affirms sincerely, “you just need to find some dynamic. Something to make people know that you can do more than one tone of art.” It’s obvious that the professor has a soft spot for the boy in front of him, who looks like his entire world is collapsing. The portfolio folder is handed back to him and Jungkook has the urge to burn it and not hear the word “gallery” again in the next decade.

“I have faith in you. You’ll figure out what it is that you’re missing.” The smile on the man’s face is congenial. Genuine. And even though he has an ambitious amount of work to do, Jungkook finds the will to nod, haul himself off the office chair, and begin the trek back to his studio.

The pinnacle of spring is approaching and the sun shines brighter with each morning. Not that he would know or care. He’s spent the last month locking himself inside, dedicating every fluid ounce of energy towards completing his project. It’s been surprisingly easier, and Jungkook finds himself finishing paintings, sketches, and sculptures with ease. Like untapped inspiration had revealed itself to him suddenly. Yet it still wasn’t enough...at least not according to Professor Sejin.

Headphones drown out the cacophony of hustlers and bustlers with the laughter of children as accompaniment. He doesn’t allow himself to enjoy the music of the city. Not anymore. It gives him too much space to think, and Jungkook has a feeling that’s not good for anyone and definitely not good for him.

The sight of a familiar bakery with particularly delicious apple strudels is enough to stop him in his rush, feet winding down until he is standing outside, staring at the door and wondering if he could go in without being reminded of you. Well, it might be too late for that anyhow, but further signs of protest are halted when he hears his growling stomach.

Jungkook had morbidly underestimated your presence in the memory of his favorite cafe. You are everywhere. He sees your smiling face when he looks up at the chalkboard menu, soul vying for you to be next to him and excitedly choosing a new fru-fru drink that would undoubtedly have excessive sugar. He hears your giggles ruminating through the cafe while the other patrons only hear the music over loudspeaker. He practically feels you near, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s better this way. No one gets hurt this way.

Jungkook plops himself at a corner table and buries his face in his hands, fingertips soothing over his pulsing eyebags and wrinkles he’s gotten from sleep deprivation. He desperately needs an espresso shot. Or five.

“Hey…”, a voice makes him snap his head up. Jungkook recognizes the stranger as the owner’s son, who always stands guard at the cash register. The tag on his lapel reads Kim Seokjin, and Jungkook has a distant memory of you gushing over how nice Seokjin’s hair was. He had acted unbothered back then, but Jungkook would die before telling a soul that he was annoyed and jealous when you thought the cashier was cute.

“Jungkook, right?”. He has a kind smile and a natural air of invitation. Jungkook nods.

“I’ve seen you around a lot. Where’s that girl you always come here with?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business”, he nearly hisses, antsy at the mere mention of you. He instantly regrets it though. Seokjin looks like he’s been cornered with a blunt weapon, and it makes Jungkook sigh at his own asshole-ishness.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbles, “just not a good day. At all.”

There is a pause and hesitation before the boy speaks. “Do you...wanna talk about it?” Seokjin’s question is met with silence.

There is a predictability about Jeon Jungkook. He doesn’t open himself up to anyone. He pretends that he doesn’t have problems so well, people start to become convinced. He avoids new connections like it’s the plague. But there is something so idiosyncratic about Kim Seokjin that makes him want to talk. Makes him want to trust a complete stranger.

So Jungkook nods, depositing his black backpack besides him and lets himself breathe deep.

“Her name is Y/N….”

In the lukewarm air of the café, Jungkook tells Seokjin about you. About the tiny crescent moon on your wrist that identically matches his - even unwraps his cloth to show it - and how he pushed you away hard enough to put an ocean’s worth of distance between the two of you. He tells Seokjin about Yoojung and the stars on her skin that have been plaguing him since the day she left. He tells him about that damn portfolio that refuses to be finished; one that he apparently has to start over because Professor goddamn Sejin says it's too boring. He allows himself to unload, and wow is it easier to breathe when you talk about your feelings. Jungkook reminds himself to do that more often.

The “conversation” seems to stretch for hours (if a conversation can be considered one person unleashing all their hidden baggage on the other while they sit in silence). Jin listens intently through the entire ordeal, offering occasional nods and encouragement for him to continue. When Jungkook finally finishes with a deep breath, falling back on the chair looking completely worn out, Jin fixes him with a hot tea before speaking.

“The portfolio is important to you, Jungkook. If it’s important to you, you’ll find a way. Something tells me that you’re not one to give up so easily”, he quips with a playful lilt in his voice. Jin’s genuine faith in him makes Jungkook believe in himself.

“And as for Yoojung, well, I can’t speak on your pain. You are the only one that narrates your experiences but as much as she seems like a villain in your story, perhaps she has opened a door.” Jungkook thinks his voice sounds far too wise to be coming from a guy in his 20’s.

“Would you have known how to nurse a broken heart had it not been for her? I’m sorry she did that to you, Jungkook, but..Yoojung is your past. And I see so much in your future.”

Jungkook only stares into the abyss of his tea cup. The reflection that stares back is someone he desperately wants to learn to love. When he looks up again, there is a sad glimmer in Seokjin’s gaze. Something so despondent that he feels second-hand pain.

Jin pulls up the sleeve of his knit sweater. On his wrist sits a faded marigold, so blanched it almost blends in with his skin and makes him wonder if it will just disappear one day. Jungkook feels his blood run cold.

“It’s been two years since she died”, he stares solemnly at his skin, “I don’t think a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about her.”

Jungkook’s thought about his soulmate mark disappearing before. Even hoped and prayed for it the days after Yoojung left. But now, when he sees it up close on Seokjin’s wrist, Jungkook doesn’t want to wish that loneliness upon anyone.

“She was so damn...persistent”, Jin laughs, fondness dripping in every word. “Like your Y/N in that way, I suppose. She had a goal and was hell-bent on achieving it. She was so kind and strong and much more of a badass than I could ever be. I loved that about her.” There is sorrow in his voice when he uses the past tense, and Jungkook feels even worse for pouring his heart out about his very alive soulmate.

“She was studying to be a doctor, you know? Ironic that even the best doctors couldn’t have saved her in the end.” His sentence trails off and he loses focus gazing out the window, fidgeting with the ring on his left hand with a faraway look in his eyes.

“I don’t mean to ramble about my dead soulmate for no reason, Jungkook. And I’m in no position to tell you what you should or should not do regarding Y/N. But if I could restart this life with my soulmate, there wouldn’t be one second I would waste not at her side.” Jin’s tone is not accusatory or convicting. Just honest.

“It’s normal to be scared and apprehensive. Hell, I would be more concerned if you weren’t going into it with a shit ton of skepticism. I was terrified. Yet out of the billions of people that could’ve had my mark on their wrist, just knowing that she was that one was enough for me to love her.”

The cup of tea has long gone cold. Jungkook only manages to stare at the mahogany table, thoughts too heavy to voice aloud, so Jin continues.

“I think I would give anything to know that such a person still exists for me. Someone out there that was chosen by an unknown, cosmic force for an unexplainable reason just for me. To see a mark that matches my own. Well…”, Jin breathes deeply, tears welling in his eyes but not falling, “I think that must be the most wonderful thing in the entire world.”

◒

Seokjin’s words stick with him long after he has departed from the café. Long after the tea has settled in his stomach along with the weight of what a soulmate means to this stranger whose life story he has learned in the course of an evening.

Even so, Jungkook’s not sure what he should feel. The fear of vulnerability still feels like a designated thundercloud above his head, and the thought of letting you past his walls makes Jungkook want to run the other way.

At the same time, the trepidation doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. It’s still there, and he can’t pinpoint exactly what happened but when he sees your smiling face behind his eyelids, Jungkook doesn’t feel scared. When he focuses on what you look like under sunlight, or your eyes staring at him through a camera lens, there is no fear of the broken heart you could leave him with. Just something warm. Something that feels an awful lot like...love?

But what does Jungkook know about such things?

He shrugs it off his shoulders, and readies himself for a night of inevitably restless sleep. He blames it on the impending due date of his beloved portfolio, but really, it is you. You and your insistence on trying every single coffee shop in the city. You and your convoluted idea of a date; letting your partner choose the location with their eyes closed. You and…

Just everything about you.

He falls asleep well into 4am. The thin strap of cloth sits on his bedside table. Even if it is only for the night sky to see, Jungkook lets his soulmate mark breathe.

◐

It’s been so long since you’ve dressed up or cleaned up to go out anywhere, the reflection that stares back feels like a stranger. You’ve opted for a bold red lip, meticulously applying your makeup so that even the wing of your eyeliner was sharp enough to kill. Jimin forced you to curl your hair too, of course. The girl in the mirror looks beautiful. You know that she is beautiful.

So why is it that you can only see the face that is not enough for Jeon Jungkook? A person that he is unable to love. No, not even foundation can cover the face of longing.

“Y/N”, Jimin sing-songs, “hurry! You don’t wanna be late do you?” No, you don’t want to be late. You want to not go. Maybe retreat to your bedroom and cry the night away again. But you won’t tell him that when he is so clearly ecstatic that you’re spending a night out for the first time in months.

The restaurant looks like it is entirely out of your budget. Well, you reckon any restaurant is out of your budget with all the debt that looms overhead and your painfully apparent unemployment. Waiting for Namjoon is less than exhilarating, and you spend the time fiddling with your bracelet that conveniently covers the crescent moon. These days, you can’t bear to look at it anymore. Your eyes are glued to the little mark, before a voice sounds from across the table.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was insane. You must be Y/N, nice to meet you.” You weren’t sure what you expected Kim Namjoon to look like but were pleasantly surprised. Namjoon looks like he takes care of himself, neat and clean and sporting a very shiny watch that looks like 4 months’ worth of rent.

“And you must be Namjoon. Likewise.”

When he pulls out the chair to sit down, you can’t help but to notice the cloud on his wrist. It was smaller than yours but you had no doubt it felt just as heavy. If Namjoon felt your gaze on his skin, he did nothing to show it.

“Hey, I know I just got here but…”, he sighs and takes a look around the room, “do you wanna get out of here? Find the cheapest and greasiest food we can?” His request makes you smile, and you grab the purse that rested on the table.

“Namjoon, I think that’s the best idea you’ve had yet.”

You and Namjoon manage to find a diner that wasn’t far from the fancy restaurant, and you thank the skies that you didn’t have to pay $50 for a salad tonight. Just some pocket change for quite possibly the best and oiliest hamburger you’ve ever had.

By conversation that happens through mouthfuls of food and faces smeared with milkshake residue, you come to learn that Namjoon is an unsurprisingly nice guy. He studies poetry, but is working as a secretary at an office, hence his connection to Jimin. He loves to garden and talks about his bonsai plants to you like they’re his kids, even pulling up pictures on his phone and gazing down at them fondly. It makes you smile. He plays the piano, and likes to take long bike rides when the weather permits.

It’s nice to have someone reciprocate your effort. It’s something you haven’t experienced in a long time, all credit to one Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon is warm in all the corners where Jungkook is cold.

In a word, he is pretty damn perfect. And if he had a crescent moon on his wrist, you probably wouldn’t bat an eye or have a lick of doubt in the universe. He encompasses everything you want, so alike you in so many aspects it makes you wary. If Namjoon had your matching soulmate mark, you would already be in love with him.

But he doesn’t. And that thought alone keeps you from feeling anything but platonicity. He is not Jungkook. You don’t think anyone can make you feel the way Jungkook does. You want to curse the stars for making this so.

It’s well into the night, and you both remain planted in the diner booth, chatting and chuckling over a plate of french fries. It’s when you drift off while he’s talking about his latest attempt at focaccia that Namjoon sighs and sits back in the seat.

“What?”, you confusedly ask after he suddenly stops speaking.

He smiles. Stays silent for a couple seconds. Then speaks.

“So what did your soulmate do to you?”

His question catches you off guard and you can only stare at him, frown on your face and words lost on your tongue.

“You’ve been staring into space every 5 minutes this whole night, and fidgeting with your bracelet so much I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off”, he explains, tenderness and sympathy in his tone.

“Every time I speak, you have this sad look in your eyes and I have a feeling you’re imagining someone else’s face, Y/N. I’ve enjoyed talking to you...a lot. But I can tell you want to be somewhere else so”, Namjoon places his elbows on the table and gazes at you endearingly, “tell me about your soulmate.”

You stare at Namjoon through shocked eyes, glistening with the onset of tears that you manage to keep from escaping. Gosh, you were pathetic. Already wanting to cry at the mere mention of him. Or maybe the fact that someone could see through your facade. You take a deep breath.

“His name is Jeon Jungkook.” Your voice quivers, and Namjoon continues listening intently. You are reluctant to continue because you know that once this conversation begins, there is a chance you might have to confront yourself again with the pain of loving someone who doesn’t want love. You internally apologize to Namjoon in advance, for you might cry on this first date.

“I…I’m completely head over heels in love with him but after everything, I’m not sure I have the slightest clue what love is. Because what sane person can fall in love with a person who has made it clear that that love wouldn’t be reciprocated from the get go?”

You fiddle with the plastic straw in your milkshake, searching for the courage to go on and tell him about every thought that you have denied yourself the satisfaction of verbalizing.

“He loves apple strudels, you know. Eats them every time like they’re the last apple strudels he’ll ever have and he doesn’t give a damn who’s watching”, you chuckle, gaze drifting off to space. There is a fondness in your eyes as you speak, and Namjoon does not miss it.

“He’s as punctual as the day is long. One time I was late to a photoshoot and he almost made me cry lecturing me about the importance of being on time. But now I’m never late.”

The memory makes you, as well as Namjoon, smile.

“He paints like his life depends on it, and he’ll get oil paint on his face without noticing and sometimes I just want to reach out and wipe it off. But I think he’d murder me on the spot.”

“How come?”, Namjoon offers his first words in the midst of your monologue. You’re not sure what to say next.

“Well...I think Jeon Jungkook might be the coldest person I’ve ever met”, you dejectedly sigh. Reality tastes bitter even with remnants of whipped cream on your lips.

“Every time I was around him, it felt like I was willingly breaking my own heart just for the chance to know that he was next to me. That in this entire world of billions of people, the one with the same moon on their wrist was next to me. And...I guess I didn’t really need him to love me yet”, your gaze locks onto Namjoon and you find he is already staring at you with utmost curiosity and subtle pity.

“Jungkook alone was enough. I just wish he could have felt the same about me.”

Perhaps the reason why the truth is so painful to speak is because people have a tendency to run from it. Then when it catches up to you, it’s a harsh trip and fall to the rocky ground. There is no cushion when you land.

Namjoon doesn’t offer advice. Doesn’t dish his own experiences to relate to your own or even make any comments from his perspective. He just sits and listens in silence, but it doesn’t feel like he is disregarding you. No, his eyes tell you that he soaks in every word. You hope you’ll get the chance to do the same for him...if he ever decides to share his story with you.

The two of you leave the diner with a prospective to be friends, and no plans of a future second date. You had a strong feeling that spending the entire evening talking about your unrequited soulmate love had something to do with that. Nevertheless, though Namjoon didn’t work out as a distraction, you were glad to have met him. It made you realize something.

Even if Jimin thought you were ready to move on. Even if you thought you were ready to forget. It might be a lifetime before you finally let go of that boy.

◓

The morning reeks of rain and dew, humidity nearly clawing its way through his window and turning his apartment into a swamp. When he wakes up, it is not to his blaring alarm clock, but the uncomfortable sensation of a sweaty shirt sticking to his back. Jungkook groans, already tired of this day. It seems hopeless from the beginning.

As much as he wanted to stay home and crank up the air conditioner so much that his landlord would come running, Professor Sejin’s voice reverberates through his eardrums.

You art is too one-noted, Jungkook.

Be better, Jungkook.

You’re talentless and will never succeed, Jungkook.

Of course, these are not Professor Sejin’s verbatim, more so Jungkook’s own mind that twists his teacher’s constructive criticism into something else. He is a master at feeding his insecurity.

Jungkook chugs down a lukewarm cup of black coffee, and his stomach growls for something with a little more sugar and maybe a dash of rainbow colored sprinkles. He guesses he has you to thank for that. The art studio is always a daily destination, and this day is no different. Jungkook has a plan to dedicate himself to fixing his portfolio and maybe finish that clay piece he never got around to.

The studio is too cold for his liking; Jungkook can’t remember how many times he has begged the superintendent to lower the AC. The cold he can deal with. The loneliness, however, is a different story. Jungkook is always alone. Alone when he’s in his apartment. Alone when he’s in class. Alone when he’s in the art room. These days, aloneness feels more haunting when he knows he had the option to escape it, but chose to stay. A part of him is ready to admit that it’s because of you.

Jungkook hums a random melody that had been stuck in his head since the morning, fingers gliding over the slick sculpting clay. The days are easier now. He doesn’t think about you so much when the sun is out and there is the bustling of the busy city to distract him. The nights, however, are just as difficult as they have been. Jungkook’s last drifting thought is of you, and your face torturously carries over to each dream. Like his entire being misses you but he refuses to accept it.

He takes a deep sigh in relief once the sculpture feels finished. Professor Sejin wanted something more dynamic, so there: his very own realist clay piece drawing inspiration from Praxiteles’ sculpture of Aphrodite. He sits back in pride, admiring his own handiwork and giving himself a mental pat on the back. It looks great. Perfect even. It looks….

It looks like you.

Jungkook pales at the realization as the clay face stares back at him. No, this was supposed to be Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and love, inspired by the ancient Greek artist that sculpted her. Then why does she have your nose? Those eyes are definitely your’s and even those cheeks are identical. Jungkook hadn’t even realized that in the rhythm of his art, he got lost and accidentally sculpted your face instead.

He walks away from the clay table and hurriedly yanks off the soiled apron around his waist, confusion swimming in every cell of his body. How had he just...made a sculpture of you? With no knowledge that he was doing it?

Jungkook leans with his back against the sink, staring down at the floor with furrowed brows and a thundering heart. With a sudden epiphany, Jungkook leaps from his position and pulls out all the canvases, printed photographs, graphite drawings, and clay pieces he’s made for the past few months. Everything he can grab in the small studio space.

It is then that he comes to the daunting realization:

Holy shit.

Professor Sejin was right.

Everything feels the same. His whole portfolio has one note and no dynamic or diversity because...well, because all of his pieces are of you. Not you, necessarily, but your breath has come alive on his art in some way, shape, or form.

The multimedia painting he made two weeks ago using polystyrene sheets was supposed to mimic sunlight through a stained glass window, but Jungkook hadn’t even noticed he'd drawn the window of the café you dragged him to on its opening day. And the colors of the glass is just the twinkle of your eyes when they stare back into his.

The photoset he spent hours taking around the city, after taking a 15 minute train ride, were just repeats of all the places you two went to that one day. The book store. The park. The streetlight where Yoojung stopped him. He hadn’t even realized he only saved the photos associated with a subconscious memory of you.

Jungkook can’t explain it, but he feels you in every single picture. Every piece of art that his hands have manifested since you walked into his life, stupid smile on your face and that little moon on your wrist. He feels it...and call it artist’s intuition or something but perhaps that’s why Professor Sejin could feel it too.

Even though he stopped making you his muse months ago, you are still the root of inspiration for whatever he’s produced since. And if that’s not enough to finally tell him what he needs to hear. Finally make him realize that he’s fallen in love with you without even knowing it, the universe doesn’t know what will.

The minutes it has been since he realized your place in his life melts like slow dripping honey, feeling like an eternity when it is mere moments. Jungkook regains his focus in the haze. He knows what you mean to him now, but there was something he had to fo first.

He swipes all his paintbrushes and palette knives to the side, sweat on his brow as he furiously rearranges his portfolio. He takes out the pictures of Mina - no one would miss them anyway - and trashes all the photos he took before he met you. He only uses the art he’s created post-Y/N and tucks them in the manila folder so rapidly, there’s paper cuts on his fingers. But he doesn’t feel them. Jungkook has only one objective.

He snaps a picture of the new clay sculpture he’s just finished. The photo goes into the portfolio with the name ‘Aphrodite’, but Jungkook knows better about whose face that truly belongs to. Not that anyone would bat an eye. He thinks you are as beautiful as the goddess herself.

The trip to Professor Sejin’s office is short, unsurprising though, since Jungkook sprints the whole way there. When he arrives, and the professor can only stare as he’s bent over and huffing violently trying to catch his breath, Jungkook reminds himself to spend less time at the studio and more time on the cardio.

He throws the portfolio onto the man’s desk unceremoniously, nearly collapsing on the chair across from him and not ready to speak yet. Professor Sejin confusedly rifles through the folder quickly, too quickly, and sighs, ready to offer Jungkook yet the same critique again.

He opens his mouth, but Jungkook cuts him off.

“Before you say anything…”, he gulps, finally ready to admit the truth to himself.

“I want you to know that I’ve met my soulmate, a-and there’s a reason why you feel that my portfolio is all the same. There’s a reason why you feel it’s all one-noted or that there’s no progression.” Jungkook takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, and you are there behind his lids.

“It’s because she sowed the seeds for all of them. Everything. Those paintings and photos and sculptures are just symptoms of what I’ve been feeling this whole time after meeting her. She’s practically the artist, not me.” Professor Sejin stays silent at his monologue, gaze unreadable but eyes sharp and trained solely on Jungkook.

“Maybe...Maybe art doesn’t need to be super variegated all the time. Maybe it’s supposed to be a cohesive unit and the pieces should string to each other. Maybe paintings should have a relationship to photos and them, to sculptures. Maybe you’re just...wrong.”

He is exasperated and passion flows out of him through every pore. Jungkook looks expectantly at his professor, who has the open folder in his hand and still in the process of taking in his words. When the adrenaline starts to fade, he realizes that he just dissed his venerable teacher.

“With all due respect…”, he coughs, “sir.”

Professor Sejin lets Jungkook spend the next couple minutes in complete torturous silence so that he can finish reviewing his portfolio. The tension is cut with the sound of the man’s hands slapping together as he closes the folder. Jungkook prepares himself for a stern lecture.

However, when he looks up, there is a smile on the man’s face. There’s no malice there, or even disdain. He pulls off his glasses, sets them on the table, and sits back in the office chair, arms folded over his chest. Jungkook can feel his heart threatening to pound past his rib cage.

“Jungkook…”, Professor Sejin declares, “I think you’ve got a contender for the gallery spot.”

◑

If someone had asked you what Jeon Jungkook meant to you, you would look them in the eye and tell them that he meant nothing. Because it’s easier to pretend that someone does not mean anything to you after they pretend that you do not exist. That the universe had not given you both matching marks and deemed that your souls were meant for each other. Jeon Jungkook is a stranger to you. One that you wanted so badly to love. But you’ve come to learn that no matter how hard you try; you can’t love someone who doesn’t want to love at all.

So the days trickle by as they usually do. Painstakingly slow and viscous with memories of a boy named Jeon Jungkook and the way he has hurt you enough to last a little bit over forever.

“I understand why you don’t want to go, Y/N. But aren’t you the least bit curious? Especially after that fancy invitation in the mail?” Jimin’s query is innocent. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make your blood boil.

“I don’t know...the thought of going to my soulmate’s grand art gallery when the last time we spoke, he told me he can’t love me, just doesn’t seem appealing Jimin”, you snark, burying your face into the bowl of cereal you are now spooning far too aggressively.

“But...it’s been months. And he wouldn’t have sent you an invitation if he didn’t want you to come.”

This conversation has happened too frequently since that red envelope arrived at your apartment. You cried your eyes out when you opened it, both out of pride for Jungkook and the fact that no matter what you did, the universe found a way to keep you from moving on.

A sigh heaves through your chest, and the cereal is abandoned by your loss of appetite. “I’m not going to show up there and have him tell me again all of the reasons he can’t be with me. I barely survived it last time.”

“But what if, Y/N?”

There is a glimmer in Jimin’s eye and he radiates so much hopefulness for you, you can’t help but to feel it too.

“Isn’t the what if already enough? You used to tell me that Jungkook was worth anything. Isn’t he worth the risk this time too?”

You don’t have anything else to say after that because as much as you hate to admit, perhaps Jimin is right. Jungkook is worth going through anything for, even if he wants to stay as far away as possible. Call it a fluke in the postal system that the invitation to his gallery landed on your doorstep, but can you allow yourself to read between the lines and dare say that he sent it himself? Can you put yourself through such a perilous thing like optimism?

Jungkook has left you battered and broken for the past months. But you would give your heart to him to break all over again if he asked.

◒

To say that you did not fit in with those dawdling around the art gallery was a gross understatement. You didn’t just not fit in. Your entire presence and aura defied every expectation, and suddenly, watching the upper echelon of the city mingle with champagne and gaze critically at Jungkook’s art, makes every breath feel like an insecurity.

The boy in question was nowhere in sight, and you now regret not dragging Jimin with you. The invitation had specifically prohibited plus one’s, and though Jimin whined to no end about his hurt feelings and emptily promised never to talk to Jungkook again, you managed to keep him home. Now, you wish you were back at the apartment with him.

The pieces were, in short, completely breathtaking (to no surprise, of course, this was Jungkook you were talking about). Though you knew he always held doubt in himself, in the short time he allowed you to be in his life, you had never once thought he was anything less than spectacular. Yet you could not allow yourself to completely enjoy them. Each brushstroke and paint color you remember from his palettes, or the filters on the photos that you helped him with, was agonizing to look at.

You are standing in front of a canvas titled “Windowlight” when a man comes up beside you. He nurses a flute of bubbly champagne and makes no move to gain eye contact. Unknown to you, Professor Sejin knows exactly who you are. He’s seen your face in his student’s portfolio one too many times.

“Artful use of mixed media, isn’t it?”, he mutters.

“I suppose so.”

“He’s quite the prodigy. Have you met him yet? I’m sure he’s lurking around somewhere.” The man takes a sip from his glass, smirk on his lips hidden from your eyes that still blankly stare ahead.

“Yes. He’s a...friend.” We share a soulmate mark. He hates my guts.

He hums a sound of affirmation and you ignore the weird feeling it leaves in your stomach; one that tells you this stranger sees right through you.

“Ah, how rude of me. Professor Sejin. Arts director and senior advisor.” He spares you a brief glance, but you make no move to shake his hand or pretend to be courteous. You don’t have the energy for it tonight. Just being in this building, surrounded by everything Jungkook has touched, makes you want to collapse into yourself.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” He speaks nonchalantly, and you almost miss the fact that you never told him your name. Your brows crease in confusion and you are ready to turn and interrogate the stranger, but he is already walking away, gliding smoothly across the gallery. Before he gets too far, though, Sejin cranes his neck and makes eye contact.

“Oh, and be sure to visit the one called ‘Moon’. It’s upstairs, next to the Aphrodite sculpture on the second level exhibit”, he entreats, a suspicious lilt in his voice.

“Something tells me you’ll appreciate its…sincerity.”

Honestly, you’re not sure what you expected when you came to Jungkook’s art gallery tonight. But to be approached by a stranger who already knows your name, who dubiously instructs you to seek out a mystery art piece, was not on the list of expectations. Still...Professor Sejin’s words made you curious.

Through the night, your eyes subconsciously seek out that familiar head of fluffy brown hair and a tall gait that always seems to stick out, even in a large crowd. It was as if Jungkook versed himself in complete camouflage, so much so that you began to doubt that he was even in the building.

The traipse through the gallery is done in silence and solitude, and you tune out the sounds of popping champagne and raucous laughter coming from the second floor, as the patrons undoubtedly banter over which piece to auction off. You hope he keeps them. You’ve never seen someone appreciate art the way that Jungkook does.

You catch sight of a few pieces that you recognize, ones that you remember him showing you when he had finished. You always excitedly told him every single one was a masterpiece, and Jungkook only rolled his eyes and made minimal effort at hiding the blush on his cheeks. Your steps falter when you come across a set of photographs in black and white, set in consecutive frames next to each other and it feels so warm despite the lack of color. Jungkook just had that special talent when it came to photography.

It’s the bookstore. In the city during the impromptu train ride you had coerced him to take. Your heart catches in your throat as you recognize all the other ones immediately because well...you’ve been to all those spots. A familiar pressure builds in the back of your eyes, and you swallow down a whimper of pain.

The urge to leave becomes too strong. But not strong enough to quell the slow burn of curiosity from Professor Sejin. There is a chance that you might not run into Jungkook at all tonight with the vast space and people bumbling through the corridors. It hurts to think that you might never see him again at all, but you’ll allow yourself another indulgence. Something is calling you.

Moon. He titled it Moon? You grip onto your wrist reflexively and run your thumb over the mark, like you did when you were younger and still had hope for soulmates. The pulsepoint there beats under your finger and lets you know how alive you are. Compels you to give into your curiosity, even if it might decimate your already crumbling heart. The stairs that lead up to the second floor are short, but the trek feels like it knocks the wind out of you, or perhaps that was just the anticipation of what was waiting for you on the other side.

You were right to be scared. Because right in the smack dab center of the circular room is where you see it, and your gasp is one that can be heard from each wall and corner.

A painting of you. A portrait from the waist up, with oil paint and so much detail, Jungkook has even managed to line the shallow wrinkles by your eyes when you smile. You have never considered yourself beautiful in any sense but the way he has captured you on canvas starts to make you believe that you truly are. You feel Jungkook in each streak of the brushstroke where he hadn’t spread the color evenly. It is as if the painting is alive, and though you are staring at yourself, it doesn’t feel like the way it does in the mirror. Doesn’t feel like a reflection.

No, this feels like looking through Jungkook’s eyes. It is what he sees in you, rather than what you see in yourself. And what he sees is beautiful. Through the haze of shock and confusion as to why he chose this as the centerpiece, you don’t notice the warm presence that lurks behind you. The one that has watched your every move since you walked into this building.

“Yeah, that’s my favorite one too.”

You whip your head around so quick it nearly gives you whiplash, but the sight of him is the nail in the coffin. Jungkook is cleaned up in a black suit, and an unfamiliar smile on his lips he rarely lets you see. A genuine one that he’s tried to hide so many times but now that it’s clear and up close, you resent him for keeping it from you.

Jungkook is just as gorgeous as the day you lost him.

But looking at him hurts. You don’t know why you’re even here, and why he sent the invitation, or why he was standing in front of you now and there is not a sliver of antipathy in his eyes. You don’t know why your face is plastered in the center of the gallery. Most of all, you don’t know why you are still weak in the knees for Jeon Jungkook.

“Although, I have to say, it was a close race between this one and the pictures I made you take at the lake, when you nearly dunked me in the river because it was so cold”, he breathily laughs but you aren’t able to get through the shock just yet. If Jungkook notices your starstruck state, he doesn’t let it affect him.

“And I definitely have to give some credit to the one I painted after you told me about your dream”, Jungkook prattles on, “where you were a mermaid who planted peaches under the sea, remember? That’s an honorable mention.”

These memories make you want to smile but in this moment, the best you can do is try to hold yourself together when your eyes begin to warm with tears. Jungkook stays silent when you do. He notices you haven’t said a word and your gaze refuses to meet his.

“Why are you doing this, Jungkook?”, you curse yourself when your voice cracks. “Why are you telling me these things? Haven’t you hurt me enough?” Jungkook’s smile drops off his face, and for once, you can see your own pain reflected in his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, hands hanging limply at his side that itch to wrap themselves around yours. To feel your skin. Feel your mark.

“I…”, he hesitates in his words, “I remember that day every night when I go to sleep, Y/N. Every time I shut my eyes, I just see your face when I told you I can’t love you, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt such aching before. Not even when she left me.” Jungkook’s voice is tinted with desperation but it just makes your walls rise higher.

He’s lying to you. Your tongue wants to protest, but he continues.

“I see you in everything”, Jungkook breathes out, like he is also admitting it to himself.

“The paintbrushes I can never put down to the black coffee I force myself to drink nowadays because the ones I actually like, the ones with too much whipped cream and vanilla syrup, just reminds me of you.” His brows are knitted, and his feet vie to step closer to your quivering form. But you look like a caged animal about to bolt at any moment.

“And when I’m reminded of you, I am reminded of…”, he gulps down the fear, “I’m reminded of how I am utterly in love with someone who deserves so much more than what I have put them through.”

The blood that runs through your veins drops to subzero temperatures, and you swear in the split millisecond that you have absorbed what he’s just said, your heart ceases its beating. The world stops turning, and the waves still for a brief moment. You can’t find any words just yet, but Jungkook can see straight through you and your stupefied expression.

“Y-you’re lying to me, Jungkook. Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying, please…” Jungkook knows he’s losing you by the second, but he’s promised you he would persist. He just wants you to listen. Wants you to feel how sorry he is, and how his soul screams to be next to your’s.

“I can’t explain how it happened. Like it was an epiphany. Like someone has been screaming at me and I had been ignoring them, and that someone was my own heart.” Jungkook doesn’t stumble over his words once. He does not stutter because it is the plain white truth.

“Stop, Jungkook.”

“It’s been knocking on the door of my chest and when I finally let it in, it just yells and shouts ‘oh my god, you’re in love’ and then I realized oh my god, i’m in love. In between painting you and convincing myself that soulmates meant nothing to me, I’ve completely and unquestionably fallen in love with you, Y/N.”

Jungkook can’t decipher the look on your face. Something between the lines of disbelief and heartbreak, and it makes him want to split at the seams at the pain he’s put you through. How he’s convinced you you’re impossible to love. He vows to make it right again.

“Jungkook-”

“And you’re wrong, you know. You’re not hard to love. Hell, I was dead set on never loving again and you managed to make me so smitten, I can’t paint or draw a damn thing without including some aspect of you in it.” Jungkook steps back and gestures to all the canvases and photos that hang on the wall.

“Take a look around, Y/N. It’s all you. Every piece.” Once he says it, you finally notice Every piece of art in this room can be traced to you, or a memory you two share. It’s so clear, you don’t know how you missed it before. You feel yourself in the art Jungkook has poured his soul into. Instead of making you feel elated, these words that you’ve been waiting your entire life to hear just ignites the sting.

“Just stop. Please.” It is only a weak whisper through your lips, and he ignores it.

“If you can’t forgive me, I get it Y/N. I can’t forgive myself either. But can you just know that you are enough. You are more than what I deserve. And I know you told me to be happy, but there is no way I can possibly do that without you.”

When your gaze falls to the floor, you notice that his wrist is clean of any bracelets or watches. Come to think of it, this is one of the first times you are seeing it clear and in the flesh. Jungkook doesn’t tell you, but nowadays, he doesn’t allow anything to impede on the sight of the crescent moon.

When your guard is down and you are distracted, he finds the perfect time to finally reach forward and take your hand in his. His touch is gentle when it wraps around your wrist, tugging off the ribbon that circled it, and revealing the matching mark. Your pulse jumps under his fingers, and skips a beat when he runs a thumb over the moon. You are already melting with such simple contact, and you almost allow yourself to succumb. Almost.

It’s as if suddenly his skin was scalding, and you snatch your wrist from his grasp at lightning speed. The tears that have strayed down your face are wiped away as quickly as they came. The surprise on his face is missed by your eyes because before he can comprehend what is happening, you are bolting down the staircase and out the glass doors of the gallery. No, you cannot forgive him yet. What would you do if he hurt you again? You don’t think you would survive.

You ignore the pain of seeing his art pieces as you run, now that you know you are the muse behind them all. The only noise is the sound of blood rushing in your ears, and you are oblivious to the racket of Jungkook’s shoes clapping against marble flooring as he chases after you, expertly dodging the other patrons and butlers holding trays of champagne.

And Jungkook? Well, he is oblivious to the complete turmoil that runs through your every nerve. He only sees your back, and not the way you bite your lip painfully to keep the sobs from escaping. Not the way your pain is exhibited clear as day in the crease of your eyebrow and the wrinkle of your nose.

The air outside is so cold it bites at your nostrils, but makes it easier to breathe. The wind calms the thundering heart in your chest.

He must be lying. There was no way he had a change of heart now, not when he was so rooted in his belief before. There is no virtual possibility, on any plane of existence, on any dimension where Jeon Jungkook has fallen in love with you.

Right?

The hand that circles around your wrist tightly to keep you from getting any farther tells you that you are wrong. He did come after you. Jungkook’s strength forces you to stop running, but you can’t find the courage to turn around and face him just yet. But you don’t make an effort to pull away, and he takes it as progress.

“You can run if you want, Y/N. You can walk away from me and from us, but don’t doubt that I’ll always be chasing after you. For as long as it takes.” He is panting and speaking through heavy breaths, but you hear him. Loud and clear.

“I won’t let you leave again. Not like last time.”

There is no malice. No coldness, and for the first time since you’ve met him, his words feel like warm honey instead of monotone ice. He is utterly distraught when you turn around slowly, hesitant like you’re afraid he will break your heart right then and there.

His heart shatters at the wetness at your waterline, and the way you look up at him; completely vulnerable and scared.

“Do you promise?”

There is a lot of weight in your three-word question. It’s not as innocent as meets the eye, and Jungkook knows it. He feels it. When you ask him if he promises, it is an invitation back to you. You are offering him your heart, which he has already broken and bruised, and trusting him to be careful with it this time around. Jungkook already knows he loves you. And if you let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure this promise remains unbroken.

“I promise.”

It’s a commitment. One he used to be terrified of making, but it seems so easy when it’s for you.

And when you fly forward to wrap your arms around him, Jungkook feels like home. Like the stars twinkle a little brighter and the earth stops spinning for a mere second, just for the two of you. You feel him squeeze you closer, just as tightly, and Jungkook wants to kick himself for depriving you both of a simple thing called love.

You are here, souls and now bodies intertwined, and Jungkook lets the pain of past hurt fall away. Pain is so miniscule when you are by his side. When you pull back, Jungkook frowns at your red-rimmed eyes, and the tears that still persist. He wipes it away oh so softly, as if you were delicate clay and he, a sculptor.

“Please don’t cry anymore, princess, it breaks my heart. I’m so sorry.” It is the softest, most sugary tone you’ve ever heard out of him. But hearing affection from his lips makes you feel that perhaps all of this sorrow, this longing, has been worth it. He has been worth it. He always has.

“I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook’s words are almost as beautiful as he is.

His lips are familiar when you lean forward and kiss him. Yet they are different. This time, the hands on your waist hold you a bit more carefully, even closer if that were possible. You can feel his thudding heart as it beats against your own, learning to match rhythms with each other, and Jungkook cradles your face in his hand like you are the only artwork he has truly been proud of.

And it’s true. All the canvases and paints and camera film seem wasted now. Nothing he ever makes will be quite as alluring as the art he holds in his arms in this moment.

“I love you too, you goddamn idiot.”

You meant it all those months ago, and you mean it now. If Jeon Jungkook was the sun, you would gladly change your name to Icarus. If Jeon Jungkook was the moon, then you are the tides that he pushes and pulls. If Jeon Jungkook belonged to you, well...you don’t have to imagine that anymore. He is your’s, as you are his.

Old habits die hard, but they are not immortal. They wax and wane, and remind you that in the cosmic vastness of things, you are only human. Humans whose hearts beat in tandem and souls made to complete the other. Humans with identical crescent moons, lost but now found.

Old habits die hard. But you have learned to fix those of a broken heart.

☾

8K notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Something New - One Shot

a/n: I’ve been working on this for a couple of weeks, rewrote half of it, and now I feel like it’s good enough to post. I guess you could call this enemies to friends to lovers??? they’re both idiots, honestly lmao, anyways, enjoy biology teacher!Harry (not proofread) reblogs and feedback are helpful!

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff, and smut

Words: 20K

Divorced, new home, new town, new job, and a new school district for the kids all within the same year. Y/N had been separated from her husband for a couple of years prior, but when he moved in with his girlfriend, she knew it was officially over. It sucked. She knew she’d look back on it someday and be grateful that they ended things, but right now she wasn’t too happy about it. He got to be a weekend dad with his young girlfriend by his side, and there she was looking like the crazy old hang. It wasn’t her fault for not taking the best care of herself. She was depressed, could you blame her. They lived in one of those towns where everyone knew every little thing about you, so it was time to get out.

Securing the new job was the first on the list. If she could do that then maybe the kids would be more understanding about leaving. Y/N was a database manager for a non-profit organization. She was behind the scenes, and that’s how she liked it. She didn’t have to be the one asking for money or on the front lines vising donors. It was a job she could do anywhere, and she’d get paid well because of the software she knew how to use like the back of her hand.

There was a private school she had seen a job opening for. Normally, she’d be more apt to work for a non-profit, and not just some school for snotty rich kids, but their website made it seem like it wasn’t like that. Their donors gave out scholarships for students all of the time, and staff/faculty could send their kids to the school for free. That was a no brainer. Giving her kids a good education was her dream. The school was a K-12, so that would mean an easy pick up and drop off. After thinking it over, and researching the surrounding towns, she sent in her application.

Two weeks later she got a call for a video interview. She accepted happily. A week after that she was asked on campus for a second interview. Y/N put on her best blazer and nicest blue dress, the school colors were red and blue after all. She even made sure to wear red heels. Y/N spoke eloquently during her interview. She had researched everyone in the development office so she already knew faces and names. They were impressed. She spoke about her experience with The Rasier’s edge, the database management system, and they were awe-struck. She was given a tour of the campus, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The elementary school was a separate building, and the middle school and high school were separate, but connected by two connectors to make one large building. The development office was set up in this cute white house. They shared it with the alumni office, and apparently it was one of the oldest buildings on campus. Although, it was taken of so you’d never know it was old. They even showed her where her potential new office would be. There was a pool and ice rink as well that Y/N got to see. She was impressed. She interviewed the people on the committee too, knowing it was a two way street. She liked what they had to say.

A week or so after that, she was given an offer, a really good offer. Now it was time to talk to her kids. She couldn’t just accept without speaking with them first. Her daughter, Riley, would be going into ninth grade, and her son, Ben, would be going into eighth. Y/N was only thirty-three, she was a young mother, thanks to her ex-husband who was about seven years older than her. A red flag she should have been more wise to, but she was young and naïve, and that’s all that needs to be said about that.

It was a difficult conversation with the kids, but after calming down they had become more open to it. They were upset with their father, and the idea of being a little farther away was sounding really nice. Living in a new home to make new memories in was sounding really nice. Making new friends and having a fresh start was sounding really nice.

So, Y/N accepted the position, and was given a moving allowance. She was able to find a home quickly that was perfect for them. A decent three bedroom about fifteen minutes from campus, so the commute would be easy enough. Riley and Ben took a liking to the uniforms, and since you did all of this over the summer, they’d be able to blend in easily on the first day of school. No awkward ‘walking in halfway through the term’ bullshit.

“When am I supposed to see them?” Your ex had asked you over the phone when you told him you were moving.

“Every other weekend, same as before.”

“So now I have to drive an hour out of my way to-“

“It’s not an hour, it’s forty-five minutes at best. Shouldn’t it be worth it? They’re your kids.”

“You’re taking them from me.”

“You did that to yourself, Joseph. The weekends will stay the same. Be happy our kids are getting a good education. Goodbye.”

She knew she was harsh, but after being cheated on, and left for a younger woman, she thought she earned the right. A week before school started, the kids had gotten their schedules in the mail.

“Who do you have, Riles?” Ben asks her.

“Someone named…Mr. Styles for homeroom, he’s the biology teacher too.”

“Thought you took bio sophomore year.” Y/N says to her.

“Nope, my grades were good, remember? I’m in the honors class.” She smiles.

“What about you, Ben?”

“Um…Mr. Horan. Looks like I’ll have him for pre-algebra.”

“No female teachers for that, huh?” Y/N asks.

“I have a woman for Geometry, Mum, see?” Riley shows her.

“Oh good. Got worried for a second there.” Y/N chuckles.

“Are you nervous to start your new job?” Ben asks her.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m actually really excited. The time off has been nice, but I’m eager to get back into it.”

Y/N drops off the kids on the first day before going over to the staff lot. The program support assistant, Millie, is waiting for her with a cup of coffee and a warm smile.

“Morning, Y/N.”

“Hi, Millie.”

“Cream no sugar, right?”

“That’s right, thank you so much.”

“Let me lead you upstairs to your office. You have a meeting with the director of development, John, in about half an hour, and then you’ll have a team meeting with the rest of the people on your specific team, the gift processors, customer service. Then at lunch the development team and the alumni team will get together to welcome you.”

“Oh my, well, alright.” She chuckles.

“I put everything on your calendar for you.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N was used to doing everything herself at work, this was already a breath of fresh air. She hoped Riley and Ben had a good morning just the same.

It takes Riley a moment to find her classroom. She stops short when she walks in when she sees Mr. Styles, and another student walks right into her.

“I’m so sorry.” She says to the boy that nearly knocked her over. “Um, I wasn’t sure if this was the right classroom.”

“it’s okay.” He says. “Are you new?”

“Yeah, I’m Riley.”

“I’m Chris.” He smiles. “Wanna sit next to me?”

“Sure!” She says and sits a few rows back with him.

“Where’d you move from?”

“Just form a few towns over. My mom just got a job in the development office here.”

“Oh, cool! My mom works grounds here.”

Riley noticed that Chris had a rainbow pin on his blazer. She smiles at it. He notices her looking at it.

“I…uh…like your pin.”

“Oh, thanks.” He mumbles.

“My best friend back home has a lot of rainbow stuff in her room.”

Chris nods in understanding. More kids come in and claim their seats. The second bell rings, and Mr. Styles closes the door.

“Good morning, everyone.” Riley’s jaw drops at his accent and deep voice.

“Get used to it.” Chris whispers to her. “A lot of the teachers here are from other countries.”

Riley nods and continues to listen to Mr. Styles.

“Welcome to another year at our fabulous school. You’re officially high schoolers!” He grabs the handbook. “Which means there’s even more rules to follow, so let’s get through this together, yeah?”

Mr. Styles was quirky. He cracked jokes and made Riley feel excited to have him for biology. She turned to look at all of the lab benches in the back. She loved science in general, so this was good.

“Lastly, open house for parents will be at the end of the month. They begin at 6PM, so hopefully I’ll be able to meet all your folks. We also have a really fun fall carnival on campus. There’s games, rides, and it also gives a chance for families to see where you go to school. It’s all a part of our homecoming weekend.” The bell rings and everyone stands up. “Riley, could we chat for a second?”

She nods and looks at Chris.

“I can wait outside for you.” He says to her and she feels grateful. Their schedules were just about the same.

“Um, hi.” She says shyly.

“Hi, dear, so I was informed you’re new, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Usually we have new students stand up and introduce themselves, but I don’t like making people do that. It’s so forced. I can see you’re already making a friend.” He smiles. “Is it just you that’s new to us? Any siblings?”

“My younger brother is in eighth grade. He has Mr. Horan for homeroom.”

“You don’t say? That’s my best mate, believe it or not. He’s in good hands.”

“That’s good to know. I’m sure it’ll give my mom some peace of mind.”

“I don’t want to make you let, just wanted to give you a more friendly introduction.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. See you for bio.”

“See you later.”

Riley was making friends right away thanks to Chris. She had people to sit with at lunch, and she made sure Ben did too. He seemed to be sitting at a full table which was great. Her last class of the day was bio, which was perfect so she’d be near her locker.

“Welcome to honors biology.” Mr. Styles says. “This is a mixed class of ninth and tenth graders. Today we’re going to settle on lab partners, and we’re going to get lab safety out of the way. It’s the bane of my existence, but I need to know you all know how to be safe.”

Chris offers to be Riley’s lab partner even though he had other friends in the class. Mr. Styles writes down who is partnered with who. Then he essentially gives a tour of the classroom. He shows them where all of the lab coats and goggles are, the eyewash station, the sanitation shower, and the other equipment they’ll be using throughout the year.

“Now, in biology, we’ll be learning a lot about plants and animals, and we’ll also get into human anatomy. These subjects can be tough at times to grasp, so please, don’t be afraid to ask questions. I want to make sure I’m explaining things properly. I’m always will to meet after school for extra help as well, or put together a study group.” Mr. Styles explains.

Riley was finding that all of the teachers were really nice so far. She meets Ben after school and they walk over to the staff lot where Y/N was. She had asked to save her lunch hour for 2PM so she could scoot the kids home quick. Her supervisor had no problem with it.

“How was it?”

“Mr. Horan is hilarious, and he’s Irish!”

“Mr. Styles is British! And super nice. I think I’m gonna like it here, Mum. I already made a friend, so I had people to sit with at lunch.”

“Me too!”

It warmed Y/N’s heart to hear that the first day went well. It was all she could have hoped for. She gets them home, set up with a snack, and back out the door she goes. She had a couple of hours left of work anyways, so it was a nice break in the day. The lunch she had earlier with her new colleagues was fantastic. Everyone was welcoming and had no problem showing her the ropes.

When she’s walking to the parking lot around 5PM she notices other people making their way as well. She smiles at a few, and she gets some friendly nods back. She’s parked next to a black range rover, and she was hoping to get to her car before the other owner because she had parked a little too close to them on their driver’s side, but it wasn’t her fault. It was the only open spot when she got back.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Shit, she thinks to herself as she approaches. Not a great first impression to make at all.

“Just crawl in on the other side, H.”

“It’s the principle of the thing! They could have scratched it, or-“

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Y/N yells as she hustles over. “I had to bring my kids home, and this was the only other open spot, and the person previously on the other side of me was parked over the line, so I had to squeeze in, and I know it looks like I’m the asshole, but I swear I’m not.” She panics as she gets her keys out of her purse.

“It’s fine, miss, Harry’s just a jerk when it comes to his fancy car.”

“You sure like riding in my fancy car, so I suggest you shut it.” Harry huffs and looks at Y/N, furrowing his brows. “Look, I’ve had to be nice all day, and I’m exhausted, could you just back out so we can leave?”

“I said I was sorry.” She mumbles. Her eyes widen, though. An Irish accent and a British accent. “Shit, I think you’re my kids’ teachers.” She sighs. “Do the names Riley and Ben ring a bell?”

Harry’s features soften and he runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re Riley’s mum?”

“Yes.”

“Seems like she had a good first day. What department are you working in?”

“I’m the new database manager for the development office.”

“Ben was a delight! Laughed at all my jokes.” Niall says and you smile.

“He said you were funny. Riley liked you too, although now I’m not sure why. Taking a long day out on me. I’m sure the first day is a lot, but it was my first day too, and I’m equally as tired.”

“Maybe you should get home then.” Harry says, and she rolls her eyes.

“Nice meeting you both…well, one of you. I’m sure I’ll see you again, but if not I’ll be at the open house.” She gets into her car and carefully backs out, not scratching Harry’s car.

“You were rude.” Niall says as they both get into the car.

“I paid a lot of money for this car. I park far away for a reason, and someone has to park that close to me?”

“She apologized.”

“Good for her.”

“Harry…”

“Ugh, Francie texted me today, and it just sent me into a fucking spiral, and I had to act like it didn’t all day.”

“What?! When did she text you?”

“After homeroom, she told me to have a good first day. I didn’t even respond.”

“You should just block her number.”

“I haven’t quite reached that point yet, but it’s coming for sure.”

“You still shouldn’t have taken it out on that woman.”

“I’m sure she’ll forget all about it. I’ll be nice next time I see her, alright? Can we please just go get a pint now?”

“You’re the one driving, find a place you wanna go to.”

Y/N had successfully avoided the rude Brit that had given her such a tough time on her first day. Riley still raved about him, though. She said he was one of the best teachers she ever had. Ben really enjoyed Mr. Horan as well. He made math fun, which Y/N was grateful for. Ben was never really a good student, but he was doing really well so far.

“I can’t wait for you to go to the open house. Make sure to be super nice.” Riley tells Y/N. “I don’t want my teachers suddenly being mean.”

“It’s not me you have to worry about.” Y/N scoffs.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, honey. So, you’ll walk me around to all the classrooms, and you wait outside?”

“Mhm.” She beams.

“Mum, wait until you talk to Mr. Horan. He’s going to tell you the best things about me, I just know it.” Ben says.

“I’m looking forward to it, honey.”

Y/N had a draining day on the day of open house, and she just decided to stay on campus. She ended up taking the kid home at two, and told them she could figure out where the classrooms were herself. She got to have a one on one with Mr. Horan first.

“You can just call me Niall. We don’t need to be so formal.”

“Alright.” She smiles. “You can call me Y/N.”

“Ben’s doing really well so far. I was a little nervous at first, but he’s getting the hang of it.”

“Thank god.” She sighs. “So, he’ll be in ninth grade taking algebra one next year, is that okay?”

“Perfectly okay. A lot of students do that.”

“I just wanted to make sure because my daughter is in geometry.”

“Math isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay. I was checking out his other grades, and he’s excelling in history.” She nods.

The conversation goes well. Y/N makes it through all of the meetings, and her last one is with Harry. She hears laughing from inside the classroom. The door swoops open, and a couple walks out chuckling with Harry.

“Ah, Mrs. Davidson, come on in.”

“It’s Miss Y/LN, or just Y/N if you want.” She says as she sits down on the chair near his desk. He sits down on his chair.

“My mistake, Riley’s last name is-“

“Her father’s last name. I’ve changed mine back. We’re divorced, didn’t really feel like keeping it.”

“I’m, um, sorry, I know how rough divorce can be.”

“Yeah? Been through it yourself, Mr. Styles?”

“Just call me Harry, and my parents were divorced, so I know enough about it from a child’s perspective.”

“They’re not too keen on their father right now. Classic situation of him cheating on me with a younger woman, which of course they found out about.”

“That’s weird.” He rests his cheek on his fist. “You seem pretty young yourself.”

She blushes slightly and clears her throat.

“Could say the same to you. I had them young, yeah, things happen. I don’t regret it though.”

“Riley’s been a real pleasure to have in class, and she’s fitting right in. She seems to like biology the best.”

“She loves science.” She smiles. “Think she gets that from me. I was really into math and science as a kid.”

“Guess you being a database manager makes sense then. New job treating you well?”

“Yeah.” She cocks her head to the side with a smirk. “Although, my almost perfect first day was just about sullied by a man you bullied me in the parking lot.”

“Okay, okay, I was an ass.” He sighs. “Thanks for bringing it up by the way.”

“Why were you so nasty to me anyways? I’ve been avoiding you.”

He frowns at that.

“My ex…fiancé texted me and wished me a good first day, so it just ruined my day and I had to keep it all bottled up. You parking that close just brought me over the edge. I apologize.”

“Yikes, I’m sorry. Well, at least you got out of it before you got married. You saved a lot of money and time.”

“It’s alright…” He looks away for a moment. “Are you bringing the kids to the carnival? It’s all part of homecoming weekend.”

“Yes, and they’re really excited. I have to work technically since a lot of donors come back. I mostly just need to be on the ball. Their father is coming too since it’s his weekend with them technically. I guess it’s good for him to see where they’re going to school.”

“If you need a break from him I’ll be working the candy apple booth.” He smiles.

“Good to know.” She yawns. “Jesus, sorry. I gotta say, I’m whipped.”

“Makes sense, it’s past eight.”

“That late?!” She stands up immediately, and so does he. “I need to get home to them. Um, well, this was a much better meeting.” She sticks her hand out for him to shake.

“I agree. Don’t be a stranger this weekend.”

She nods and leaves his classroom. Maybe he wasn’t as big of an asshole as she thought. Y/N’s had her fair share of bad days, he was allowed to have them too.

“It’s like a college campus, this place is huge!” Joseph says once they’re at the football field of the school.

“Yeah, and there’s a pool! I’m trying out for the winter swim team soon.” Riley tells her dad, in a better mood since he didn’t bring his girlfriend.

“It’s really all free for them?” He asks Y/N.

“Mhm.” She nods. “Okay, here all your meal tickets. I have to bee-bop around since I’m technically working. Have fun with Dad.” She smiles and they lead Joseph off towards some of the rides and games.

Y/N meets up with her colleagues and mingles with some of the donors she hasn’t been able to meet yet. She meets back up with the kids later to go on a few rides, and then goes to get food with them. She spots Harry at the candied apples tent, and she goes over there.

“I knew you’d find me.” He smirks.

“I’ve got a sweet tooth, what can I say?” She shrugs.

“You know, me too. Major sweet tooth.”

For whatever reason that makes her blush.

“Um, so I can I have it dipped in caramel and chocolate?”

“A woman after my own heart! I like mine the same way.” He picks up one of the apples from its stick and dips it in the chocolate first. “Any sprinkles or anything?”

“No, the sauces are fine, thank you.”

“So, where’s the-“

“Hi, Mr. Styles.” Riley says as she, Ben, and Joseph approach. “This is my dad.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Riley’s homeroom and biology teacher.” Harry hands you the apple once it’s done, and then shakes Joseph’s hand. “She’s a real pleasure to have in class.”

“So I’ve heard! Nice to hear it straight form the source, though.” There’s an awkward silence. “Um, well, kids do you want an apple?”

“Yeah!” Ben says and tells Harry what he wants.

Harry’s eyes catch Y/N biting into her apple, and how she licks around her lips. He looks a little too long because Joseph notices, and he clears his throat to snap Harry out of his trance.

“You two about ready to hit the road after this?” He asks them.

“Sure.” Riley shrugs. “Bye, Mr. Styles.”

“Have a good weekend, see you Monday.”

Y/N hugs both of the kids, and nods at Joseph.

“So…no kids this weekend?” Harry says to her.

“Nope. It’s funny, I always look forward to the little break, but by the time Sunday night hits I miss them.”

“Any plans?”

“Just relaxing. I’ll probably catch up on some sleep tomorrow. How about you?”

“A few of us are going to the pub after this…if you’d like to join, you’re welcome to.”

“Oh!” She says a little surprised. “Well, that would be great, actually. I haven’t really had time to explore some of the night life around here yet.”

“I could drive us from here if you like. I can always bring you back to your car.”

“You actually trust me to get into that fancy car of yours? I’m shocked.” She smirks, and he rolls his eyes.

“I apologized for that, didn’t I? Can we move on? Let me give you a ride later.”

“Alright.” She smiles. “Sounds like fun. It would be nice to get to know more people.”

“Great, I’ll find you later then?”

“Sounds good.” She walks away with her apple in hand, and he smiles.

After schmoozing with more alumni and donors, Y/N felt pooped. Did she really feel like going out and drinking? She could easily go home, draw herself a bath, and have a glass of fine all on her own. She had socially interacted so much today, and the thought of doing more was draining. Maybe she could go out with Harry another time. She tries looking around for him, but she’s not sure she spots him.

“Y/N!” She hears from behind her. “You ready?” Harry asks.

“About that…I think I’ve changed my mind…”

“How come?” He says with a slight frown.

“I was very social today, so I’m feeling a little tired. I don’t think I have enough pep in me for drinks tonight…but maybe another time?” She clasps her hands in front of her waist, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden.

“Oh, yeah, I definitely get that. Um, yeah, another time for sure.”

“Thanks, well, see you around, Harry.”

“See you…”

“Mum, we’re home!” Ben says Sunday evening as he and Riley come inside.

“Hey.” She smiles. “How was Dad’s?”

“Annoying.” Riley huffs. “I can’t stand Margaret. She, like, tries too hard to be our friends.”

“Mm, well, that’s what happens when a forty-year-old man decides to date a twenty-five-year-old woman. She probably knows how to babysit and be a pal.”

“Doesn’t it gross you out that he’s with someone so much younger?” Ben asks as he plops down on the couch.

“Of course it does. It won’t last long, unless she’s after his money.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why, it’s not like we were living the high life before.”

“Ew, what if he gets her pregnant.” Riley says with disgust. “I don’t want another little sibling, one is plenty.”

“Yeah, and then we’d have to pretend like we’re happy for him. I’m glad we didn’t have to do two nights over there this weekend.”

“Me too.” Riley sighs. “Did you do anything this weekend?” She asks Y/N.

“I just relaxed. Caught up on some TV, nothing special.” She shrugs. “Did you get all your homework done?”

“Yes.” They say in unison.

“Alright, go get ready for bed then.”

Riley and Chris meet at their lockers the next day at school and talk about their weekends. They chat in homeroom about their upcoming biology test. Chris was feeling a little nervous, but Riley was feeling confident. She studied almost all day Sunday. When it was last period, and Harry gave out the tests, her eyes bugged out. She read all of the questions over, and it wasn’t at all what she thought. She looked up at Harry dumbfounded. He was typing away at his computer, answering emails. She walks up to his desk with the test.

“Done already?” He jokes with a whisper.

“Mr. Styles…I don’t know any of this.”

“What do you mean? I gave you a study guide.”

“I…I know you did, but I left it at my mom’s, and so I was going off memory…I think I studied the wrong chapters by accident or something.” Her eyes were about to well up with tears.

“Alright, step out into the hall with me. Did you take notes while you studied?”

“Yeah.”

“Grab them for me.”

He stands up and goes out to the hallway to wait for her. A few of the kids in class were watching, but they get back to their own tests. She hands him her notes, and he makes a few humming noises.

“Right, yeah, you studied the wrong chapters.”

“Ugh, I knew it! So…does this mean I fail?”

“No.” He sighs. “It was an honest mistake, you’ll have to take a makeup exam after school sometime this week, though.”

“I can do it tomorrow! I would just need tonight to study. I could study in class now.”

“Get the rest of your things, I can give you a pass to the library.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Styles.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They both go back inside and she grabs the rest of her things. He writes her the pass and out the door she goes. Chris makes a motion for her to text him before she slips out, and she nods. Tuesday morning, just as Harry was sitting down at his desk with his coffee, he got an interoffice phone call from Y/N.

“Hello?” He answers, voice still deep from sleep.

“Hi, Harry, it’s Y/N.”

“I know…caller ID and all that.” He chuckles.

“Right, well, I wanted to say thank you for letting Riley take her test later this afternoon. She was a wreck last night when she got home.”

“It was an honest mistake. Plus, when I saw how much studying she did I knew I had to give her a chance to just take it later. Do you think she’s prepared enough for later?”

“Oh, definitely. She feels much better. Do you mind if Ben comes to sit in the classroom with her while she takes it? No sense in me zipping him home if she’s going to stay after.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

“You’re a life saver, thanks! Talk to you soon.”

“Bye-“ He’s cut off by the sound of the phone clicking on the other end.

Riley stays after class to take her test. Shortly after Ben shyly walks into the classroom and takes a seat. He does his own homework while she takes her test. Forty minutes later, Riley finishes her test, and hands it to Harry.

“I can grade it now if you like since it was all multiple choice.”

“That’d be great.” She smiles.

He looks at his answer key and checks off all her right answers. He writes 92% in big red ink and circles it.

“Well done. I can’t give it back to you until tomorrow, of course, but at least you can rest easy about it.”

“God, what a relief! Guess I’ll be a pro when we reach the chapters I already studied.”

“I bet you will be.”

“Do you mind if we hang out here until our mum’s done with work? She said she was just gonna pull up out front of the building.”

“Sure, I have some other grading to do anyways. In fact, would you like to help? It’s for another class, I could give you the answer key.”

“Yeah!”

Harry sets her up, and he even plays a little music for all of them.

“Mr. Styles?” A boy named Austin walks in. He was a sophomore in Riley’s class. “Thank god you’re still here.” He sighs.

“What’s up, Austin?”

“I was wondering if you graded my test yet? The football coach needs me to fill this progress report slip out. He’s making all of us do it.”

“Oh! Yeah, let me look. I can just tell you your overall grade. Have a seat, it’ll take me a minute.”

He nods and sits down, glancing at Riley briefly. She gives him a small smile and blushes.

“How come you’re here?” He asks her.

“Oh, I needed to make up the test from yesterday. I accidentally studied the wrong chapters.”

“Happens to the best of us.” He smirks. “You’re new to town, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You should come to the football game Friday, since it’s home.”

“Yeah, um, maybe I will.”

“Cool.”

“Alright, Austen, I’ve got your grade.”

He stands up and goes to Harry’s desk.

“Sick, a C+! That’s way better than I thought.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best, thanks.” He walks out of the room and Riley puffs out some air.

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on that guy?” Ben chuckles.

“He’s so cute, I can’t help it. That’s the most he’s ever spoken to me, and now he wants me to go to the game. I have to go Friday, I need to text Chris.”

“If you go, can I go?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “The more the merrier.”

Riley and Ben had always been close. They were practically best friends. They got a lot closer when their parents were going through the separation/divorce process, leaning on each other for a lot. Harry hear the sound of heels clacking on the floors outside the classroom, and there Y/N is appearing in the doorway looking lovelier than ever. She had a long coat on, synched at the waist, and her hair was down and wavy.

“Hi, kids, ready?” They both get up, and Harry stands as well. “Thanks for letting them hang out for a bit while I finished up.”

“It was no problem. Riley was pretty helpful to me with some grading.”

“How’d the test go?” She asks her daughter.

“Got a 92!”

“Amazing! I think that calls for takeout tonight.”

“You just don’t feel like cooking.” Ben chuckles.

“I’m sorry, are you complaining about getting Chinese food, or?”

“No! Just making an observation.”

“Mhm, okay, let’s go. Have a good night Mr. Styles.” She says to him.

“Same to you.”

On the ride home, Riley gets a text from Chris saying he’s down for the football game on Friday. She sighs with relief, and looks over her mother.

“So…can Ben and I meet up with Chris on Friday? We’d like to go to the football game.”

“A boy asked her to go!”

“Shut up, or you can’t come with me.”

“Hey!” Y/N says. “A boy asked you to go?”

“Well, sort of. He just said I should go if I wanted. I haven’t been to one yet, it could be fun. Chris said the snack bar is pretty stacked.”

“And you’ll keep an eye on your brother?”

“I’m only a year younger than her.” Ben scoffs.

“You’re in the eighth grade, that’s a big difference right now, even if it doesn’t feel like it. What time does the game start?”

“6:30, I think.”

“Sure, you can go. I think that’ll be good for you kids to go to.”

“Awesome, thanks Mum.”

“We’re gonna be there anyways, just ask her to tag along.” Niall says to Harry over lunch on Thursday.

“You make it seem like I wanna date her, I just think she’s cute.”

“Just ask her if she wants to go out with us after, would you?”

“Fine, I’ll give her a call right now.” Harry reaches for his phone, and looks up Y/N’s extension. She picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, Harry.”

“Hi, do you have a minute?”

“Sure! Is everything alright with Riley?”

“Yeah…this isn’t about her. It’s more of a personal matter.”

“Oh…what’s up?”

“Niall and I are chaperoning the football game tomorrow night. All of the faculty take turns doing it. We just walk around and make sure no one’s drinking underage. We were wondering if you’d like to join us. We’d be going to the pub after most likely too.”

“I don’t know if I should. Riley and Ben are going to the game, and I don’t want them to feel like I’m hovering around them, you know?”

Niall gestures for the phone and snatches it from Harry.

“Y/N? It’s Niall. Enough excuses, yeah? You’re coming out with us tomorrow night, and that’s final. You need to get more involved with student life.”

“I’m plenty involved!”

“You import and export donor data all day. I bet your kids won’t care.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Y/N did think about it, and then she asked Riley and Ben how they’d feel if she went. They said as long as she wasn’t up their butts they wouldn’t mind. It made things easier for her to drive them there at least. She watches as they meet up with Chris and essentially run off from her. She sighs and looks around for Niall and Harry, suddenly feeling like a loner.

“Oi, there she is!” Niall shouts, handing her a hot chocolate. “This should warm you up quick. You look cold.”

“I didn’t think it would be chilly enough for gloves.” She chuckles. “Thank you.”

“So, basically we just walk around, but we get to enjoy the game for the most part.” Harry explains.

“Is our team any good?”

“We’re decent, yeah. Think our lacrosse players are better to be honest, but they don’t get as much recognition.”

Y/N nods and takes a careful sip of her warm drink. She walks around with the guys, mostly listening to them talk in their accents. It was sort of fun to see all of the parents, staff, faculty, and students at the game cheering the team on.

“See that one, number 11?” Harry says to her, pointing towards the field. “That’s Austin, he asked Riley to come to the game. They’re in my bio class together. I think she likes him.”

“How can you tell?”

“I catch her looking at him from time to time. I might be wicked and assign them a project to work on together.”

“Teachers actually do that?!”

“Oh, sure.” Niall says. “I switch up the seating chart once a term just so I can pair people up. It’s pretty interesting to see what happens.”

“The students gossip to us all the time too.” Harry laughs. “They have no problem sharing personal information.”

“So…you think he might like Riley back?”

“I have no idea, he sits in front of her, and mostly just takes notes.”

“Is he nice?”

“He’s not a dolt if that’s what you’re asking. Definitely not your classic meathead, not to worry, Y/N.”

Y/N nods, and keeps walking around with the guys. The team wins, and everyone cheers. Riley, Ben, and Chris find her in the crowd of people near the exit.

“Mum, can we bowling?” Riley asks.

“With who?”

“Me, Miss Y/L/N.” Chris says and you raise your eyebrows. “Okay, and some of the cheerleaders and football players, but it’ll be fun! It’s cosmic bowling night. My dad said he could drive.”

“Please, Mum.” Ben pouts, and you roll your eyes.

“Alright.” She sighs, and takes her wallet out of her small sling bag. “Here’s some money, have fun. Home by ten, do you hear me? I’ll be out for a bit myself, just in case you get back before me.”

“Where are you going?” Riley asks.

“I’ve made some friends of my own.” She grins. “Go on, have fun.”

“Thank you!” They all say and head off.

“I can follow you both to the pub.” Y/N tells Niall and Harry, and they all walk to the parking lot.

She feels a little nervous going out with them. She had made a few friends so far, mostly her colleagues that she saw every day. There was this weird divide between faculty and staff, so she had noticed. So, Y/N wasn’t sure how welcomed she would be by the others they were meeting up with. She takes a deep breath before getting out of her car, and meeting Harry and Niall at entrance.

“You’re gonna love this place.” Harry says, putting a hand on her shoulder as they go inside. He leads her to a table where a few people were sitting already. “Oi, everyone, this is Y/N, she works in the development office.”

They all look at her and smile, saying hello. Niall takes his seat, and Harry has you sit between the two of them. Y/N learns the names of some other faculty members. Shane, Lora, and Jess. None of them had Y/N’s kids in class so she could rest easier. She found Harry and Niall to be hilarious, often almost choking on her drinks from laughter. She notices that Harry’s rolled his sleeves up, and can’t help but look at his tattoos. He explains a few of them to her. Around 10:05 she got a text from Riley.

Riley: just got in, thanks again for letting us go, it was amazing! When are you home??

Y/N: soon, baby, thanks for checking in

“Well, I should probably get going.” She says to Harry. “My kids just got home, and I don’t like leaving them alone too long when it’s late.”

“Fair enough, can I walk you to your car?” He says, leaning in a little bit. “Just so I know you left safely.”

“Sure, um, that’d be great.” She throws some bills on the table to take care of her tab. “Thank you all so much, I had a great time.”

“See ya, Y/N!” Niall says with a smile. She misses the wink he gives Harry, and Harry mouths ‘be cool’ at him.

“M’just gonna walk her to her car, I’ll be right back.” Harry says, addressing the group before heading out the door with Y/N. “You’re good to drive, right?” He says as they both walk outside.

“Of course, I only had, like, two drinks. You saw me nursing them.”

“Alright, just wanted to be sure.” He watches her fish for her keys out of her bag. “I’m glad you came out tonight.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a lot of fun to be around.”

“Aw, thanks, you’re fun to be around too.” She smiles, biting her bottom lip. He can’t help but let his eyes drift to it.

“Are you in a rush to get home?”

“Well…I…”

“It’s not like they need you to tuck them in, right?”

“N-no…” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you…are you making a pass at me?” She was backed up against her car with him a comfortable foot away from her, but she was starting to feel warm.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, stepping a little closer. “Would you feel uncomfortable if I was?” She shakes her head no and swallows.

“Do you do this with all your students’ mums?” She smirks, gaining some confidence back.

“Well, considering that I was in a four year long relationship up until six months ago, I can confidentially say no.” She opens her mouth and smirks. “And no, I don’t usually do this with colleagues either.”

“So…why with me then?”

“You’re cute.” He grins.

“Harry, I…I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, I’ve just started a new job, I bought my own house, I’m juggling teenagers, I can’t start up a relationship.”

“I don’t think I asked you for that. In fact, I haven’t asked for anything, yet.” He says smugly. “M’not looking for anything serious either.”

“Alright, what do you want from me then?” He shifts his weight to his other hip, and just looks at her. Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. She looks around, and steps closer to him, barely any space between them now. “You…you want to have sex with me?”

“Why do you sound so surprised? I think you’ve really got it going on.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure, you really know how to fill out a pair of jeans. Your bum looked awfully cute at homecoming.”

“All this coming from the guy who was about ready to murder me for almost scratching his car.” She scoffs.

“I have apologized for that over and over, but clearly my words mean nothing to you…” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe there’s something else I could do to make it up to you.”

“You’re my kid’s teacher, Harry.”

“Not after 2PM I’m not. Right now I’m just a guy who wants to fuck you.”

“I can’t go back to your place with you right now.”

“My car’s got tinted windows and a spacious back seat.”

“How…how old are you, anyways? I mean, I’m thirty-three, Harry, and you’re a little baby faced. I’m not one of those people who-“

“I’m twenty-nine. Do you wanna go fuck in my car or not? It’s okay if you don’t, I’m not trying to pressure you, but it’s bloody cold out here and I wouldn’t mind warming up.”

Y/N hadn’t had sex with someone in since the last time her and Joseph had sex, which was a few years ago. She also couldn’t remember the last time she had sex in a car, probably when she was a teenager. Was she really about to do this with some she had just started to become decent friends with? Was this is the only reason he wanted to be friends with her?

“Is the only reason you’ve been wanting to invite me out? To get my pants off?”

“No! I genuinely think you’re nice to be around, but I also wouldn’t mind getting your pants off.” He smirks.

“Okay.” She nods. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Quickly, before I change my mind.” He grabs her by the wrist and tugs her towards his car. He unlocks his car and he lets her get in first. He reaches forward to turn the car on so the heat is on and there’s a little music playing. He goes to cup her cheek, and she backs away. “I’m a little nervous.”

“We don’t have to do anything crazy if you don’t want. We could just kiss if you like.”

“I just…it’s been a while for me, you know? Like, a long while, so…I want to, I’m just nervous.”

“How can I help you relax?”

“I guess…um…could I sit on your lap and maybe we could hug for a bit?”

“Sure.” He nods.

She moves to straddle him, and she wraps her arms around his neck. His go around her back, and he rubs her soothingly. He gets a good whiff of her perfume, and it makes him smile.

“Comfortable?” He asks softly. She hums her response and he holds her a little tighter. “I like whatever perfume you’re wearing.” He feels her giggle against him.

“It’s just apple spice.” She mutters into his neck, and moves to look at him. “Nothing special.”

“Well, I like it.” He tucks some hair behind her ear. “Would it be alright If I kissed you now?”

“Yeah.” She smiles.

He licks his lips and presses them to hers. Her eyes flutter closed and she tugs at his hair. His hands squeeze her hips as the kiss deepens. He sucks on her bottom lip, and it makes her whimper. She rolls her hips down on his and he grunts. He kisses sloppily from her mouth, to her jaw, and to her neck. He mouths at her neck, full well knowing he can’t leave a mark, but it doesn’t stop him from licking and sucking a little over the area. She tugs at his hair a little harder and continues grinding against him, feeling his bulge getting harder. His lips move back to hers as his hands roam up her front, hesitating before reaching her breasts. She takes his hands and puts them over her boobs, squeezing his hands over them. He takes over from there, kneading them as best he could over her coat.

She gets frustrated, and get shimmies her coat off. He’s happy to see her nipples peeking through her shirt. He moves to suck on it through the material and she gasps. Her chest was heaving when he came off and looked up at her. Her hands move to unbutton her jeans, and he wastes no time sticking his hand inside. Instead of smirking when he feels how wet she is, he presses his lips back to hers, loving knowing that he was turning her on this much. His fingers move along her folds, and he slips his middle finger inside her gently. He groans when he feels how tight she is.

“Christ, you weren’t kidding. Do you never use anything at home?”

“Who the fuck has the time?!” She huffs as he starts bringing his finger in and out. “M’too exhausted half the time, and even when they’re gone I just do something quick.” A moan leaves her lips when his thumb starts to circle around her clit. Her forehead presses against his, and her eyes pinch closed.

He gets his ring finger inside her as well, and he curls them both up. She moves back and forth on him, riding his fingers. She makes fists with his shirt, and she starts panting. He groans from watching her, and just from the way she feels. He pets against her g-spot, and his thumb works into her clit.

“Oh, oh my god.” She says, biting her bottom lip. “I…I think I’m gonna come.” He doesn’t let up on her, doing his best to get her there. Her whimpers and whines were just egging him on. “Oh, shit, oh, shit!” She cries out as she comes around his fingers. He works her through it, and then retracts his fingers, sucking on them while making eye contact with her.

“Well?” He smirks.

“Do you have any condoms?”

“Yeah, get your pants the rest of the way off.” He lifts her off of him and places her on the seat while he reaches forward into the console, and grabs a condom.

“Aren’t you a little old to be leaving condoms in your car?” She says as he slips her jeans and underwear off.

“Wouldn’t be able to fuck you if I didn’t, would I?” He winks, and undoes his belt and jeans. “Think you’ll be able to ride me reverse, or do you need to go missionary to ease you into it.”

“Don’t be an asshole, I know how to have sex, it’s just bene a while.”

“I wasn’t! I don’t wanna hurt you.” Her eyes widen as he pulls his hard dick from his boxers, rolling the condom on.

“You think you’re the first guy with a larger prick to fuck me? Think I can handle it.”

“Now who’s being the asshole?” He chuckles and grabs her to bring her back to his lap, her back pressed to his chest. He reaches around to rub on her to make sure she’s still wet. “You want this still?”

“Yeah.” She lifts her hips and he lines himself with her, pressing up into center. It’s a tight squeeze, like she thought it would be, but she does her best to relax around him. She nearly shrieks once she’s sat fully on him.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.” He says into her ear before nibbling on her earlobe.

She hooks an arm around his head while he grips her hips, and her head falls back to his shoulder. He thrusts up into her while rubbing on her clit, and her mouth falls open. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, this was incredible. She tugs on his hair and helps herself move on him so he doesn’t have to do as much work. He frees up one of his hands to grip and squeeze one of her breasts. She looks up at him and yanks his head down to hers. She licks into his mouth and he moans into her. He sucks on her tongue and her eyes roll back. Between that, his fingers on her slit, and his dick fucking up into her, she was about ready to lose it again. She pants into his mouth as she comes again. He thrusts begin to get sloppy, and then he’s spilling into the condom. They sit there for a moment catching their breaths before she moves off him.

They both get dressed, and Harry throws the condom into a nearby trashcan as he walks her back to her car. Her face was flushed, and she for sure looked like a mess, but she felt good. He cups her cheeks and backs her up against the driver’s side door, kissing her tenderly.

“That was fun.” He says.

“Yeah.” She breathes and looks down at her watch. It was already 11:30. “Shit, I really need to get home. Ben gets worried when I’m out late.”

“Sweet kid.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, get home safe and all that.”

“You too.” She smiles and opens her car door. He closes it for her once she’s inside, and she starts the car.

As Y/N drives home it starts to hit her what she just did. She just fucked her child’s biology teacher, who she also happens to technically work with. Never in her life had she done something like this. Maybe in her younger days she would have done something this rebellious, but she had grown up a lot, and she was a professional now. She takes a deep breath before keying into her home. She sighs when she sees the light from the TV coming from the living room. Riley and Ben were passed out on the couch.

“Hey, kids.” She coos. “Wake up, I’m home.”

“Mum?” Ben says sleepily. “Where were you?”

“I…I was out with friends, remember? Um, let’s get you both into bed.”

She turns the TV off as they both slowly make their way upstairs to their bedrooms. Once they’re both in their beds, she goes into her own room, and gasps once she gets a good look at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was smeared, and her hair was a mess.

“Christ, Y/N, what did you do?” She says to herself and sighs.

The next day, Y/N was walking around like she had a stick up her ass. Maybe her body wasn’t quite ready for someone of Harry’s size. Nevertheless, she had to get up and start her day. She got some laundry going, did some dusting, and then made some breakfast for the kids. They both come into the kitchen around 10.

“Can you both put your sheets in the laundry room for me? I’m doing a linen load in a bit.” They both nod as she puts two plates of eggs in front of them. “How was bowling?”

“So much fun!” Riley says. “I actually got a strike, I couldn’t believe it.”

“You did?! How’d you manage that?”

“Um…Austin helped me, you know the one in my bio class? He’s really nice.”

“Riley, I’m happy for you and all, but I don’t know if I want you dating yet.”

“I’m not dating anyone! At least I wasn’t the one who stayed out until nearly midnight doing god knows what.”

“I’m an adult, I can do what I want, that’s one. Two, if you and this boy decide you really like each other, I think it’s only fair I get to meet him.”

“Just because he helped me bowl a ball doesn’t mean anything.” She rolls her eyes.

“What about you, did you have fun?” Y/N sighs as she asks Ben.

“Yeah, I hung out in the arcade, it was sick.”

Just as she was sipping on her coffee, Y/N’s phone goes off. It was in front of Riley and Ben, and Riley furrows her brows.

��Who is it?” Y/N asks.

“Um…Mr. Styles. Why is he calling you?”

“I…I have no idea.” She snatches her phone quickly. “H-hello?”

“Hey, Y/N! Just wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m alright, um, I’m in the kitchen with the kids, could you just give me a second?” She leaves the room and goes down the hall to her home office. “Okay…um, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I just didn’t wanna be a dick and not call.”

“Well, that’s nice of you.” She blinks a few times.

“So…you feel okay about everything?”

“Yeah! Wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t. Little sore, but other than I’m good.” She chuckles slightly and so does he.

“Well, next time I can be a little gentler…if you’d like there to be a next time, that is.”

“You…you don’t want last night to just have been a one-time thing?”

“Not necessarily, I had a good time with you, and I think you had a good time with me.”

“I just…I don’t know how smart it would be to start something up with my kid’s teacher.”

“Well, you already sort of did…”

“Yes, but I think to continue it would be stupid. I don’t want to do anything that could potentially embarrass her. Riley and Ben are really starting to make friends. They were cool about moving here for me, so I want to be-“

“It’s not like we’re dating, Y/N. No one has to know.”

“As if you haven’t told Niall yet.” She scoffs.

“I mean he was curious as to why I didn’t come back to the bar last night, but I didn’t give him the full details. He knows how to keep things to himself.” He pauses for a moment. “Look, I get it, you’re just trying to be a good mum, I can admire that. But after a certain point you need to remember that it’s okay to do things for yourself.”

“Like fuck a guy in a parking lot?”

“Exactly!” He laughs. “You’re still so young, why not let yourself have some fun?

“Harry…”

“All I’m saying is, if you’re ever lonely, or if you can’t sleep…you can call me.”

“I’ll…I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to them. Probably wondering what we’re talking about.”

“Yeah.”

“Have a good rest of your weekend.”

“You too.”

She hangs up, completely shocked by the conversation she just had with Harry. She goes back out to the kitchen where the kids were waiting with raised eyebrows.

“What did Mr. Styles want?” Riley asks.

“Oh, um, someone left their wallet at the restaurant we all went to last night, that’s all. He was trying to figure out who it belongs to.”

“There was no ID in it?” Ben asks.

“Apparently not.” Y/N shrugs.

At first, Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to take Harry up on his offer. She genuinely didn’t want to make things difficult for Riley. When mid-November rolled around, it was time for parent-teacher conferences. These were the more serious one on one meetings before the holiday season to make sure students would be able to pass all of their classes. More often than not Y/N found herself meeting with Ben’s teachers than with Riley’s, but Y/N wanted to check in with everyone to make sure her kids were acclimating to the new school fine. What she wasn’t expecting was for Joseph to want to come to the conferences as well. She got away with blushing a little when they saw Niall. He didn’t make anything awkward, but it was when they made their way to Harry’s room that she was starting to feel like she wanted to vomit. The door swings open and two people walk out. Harry steps out and looks into the hallway, smiling when he sees you, then frowning when he sees Joseph.

“Mr. Davidson! How nice to see you again, please come in.” Harry says, gesturing to step inside. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Harry.”

“You can call me Joseph.” Joseph says as he sits down and Harry nods.

Harry and Y/N make eye contact briefly, and then he clears his throat.

“Well, I’m not sure why Riley signed you both up.” Harry chuckles. “She’s doing exceptionally well, and not just in my class. She’s a bright girl.” He takes out a few of her lab reports. “The first semester tends to be easier since we’re learning more about plants and those types of organism. Next semester we get into zoology and human anatomy. I always make it known there’s study groups and after school help. I try to make it as engaging and fun as I can. We even play a few rounds of operation.”

This makes you smile as Joseph furrows his brows at Riley’s lab reports. He nods along with what Harry is saying.

“I’m glad she’s doing so well. She was sort of a big fish in a small pond at her last school.” Joseph says. “I was a little worried she’d feel overwhelmed. This transition for them was really abrupt.”

“They had most of the summer to get used to things.” Y/N says, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t a snotty school either, the teacher’s actually help the students succeed.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Listen.” Harry cuts in. “Seems like you two might have some things to discuss that don’t really involve me. Riley’s doing great, and Niall tells me Ben’s doing just as great. Nothing really more to it.”

Joseph nearly had a decade on Harry, but Harry owned this room. Having Joseph be put in his place definitely did something for Y/N. She can’t help but smirk as Joseph sits up straight.

“Yes, well…thank you. We’ll make sure to relay the message to them.” He says and Harry nods. Joseph stands up, as does Y/N.

“Y/N, did you happen to drive separately? An alum emailed me today, and I have a couple of questions about our donation site.”

“Oh! Sure, I can stay a few moments.” She looks a Joseph. He stands there for a moment, looking between the two of them.

“Goodnight.” He says, and out the door he goes.

“So…what’s your question?”

“I didn’t actually have one.” Harry smirks at her and she blushes.

“Oh.”

“You seemed uncomfortable with him here.”

“I don’t exactly enjoy his company anymore.” She sits slightly on his desk.

“I know, shit like that is just awkward. Francie and I still have some mutual friends, and we’ve had to be at a few of the same parties since the breakup.”

“Can I ask…I mean, you said you were together for four years and engaged…what happened?”

“Why don’t we have this conversation over drinks?” He stands up, grabbing his keys and jacket.

“Harry…it’s a school night.”

“And? It’s only seven. Not like we’re gonna be out all night are we?”

“I have two kids at home.”

“You have two teenagers at home. Come on, just one drink and I’ll tell you everything.”

“And then what?”

“Whatever you want.” He winks and leads you out the door.

Y/N texted the kids to let them know she was just grabbing a quick bite, and that she was very proud of their hard work. She followed Harry to a pub, and they grab a booth inside. They each order a drink and munch on some popcorn.

“Alright.” He sighs. “So I was with Francie for four years, and we were engaged for all of five months. It was working out great, we were living together, had a couple of pets, you name it. She works for this tech company, right? So, she got promoted, which was great, but it would have involved her to start traveling a lot, and eventually moving to New York. I didn’t want to move, and she didn’t want to do long distance.”

“Why didn’t you want to move? You could have found another school to work at…”

“It was the principal of the thing! She didn’t even ask, she just expected it, like her job was more important than mine. We started arguing more and more, and when I asked her why we couldn’t just try long distance she said that would make things difficult to start a family, and I said we already had a family, and that opened up a can of worms. She wanted kids and I didn’t. After that we ended it. She took our dog and cat, and left.”

“She took the pets?!”

“Yup! Left me the ring though.” He scoffs.

“Wait…so you don’t want kids?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, I love babies especially. But…I just don’t see myself being a dad.” He shrugs. “It’s a lot of responsibility, a lot of money too. I don’t know if I could take care of someone else. And maybe…when she said it…I had this thought of if I did want kids I wasn’t sure if wanted her to be the mother of them.”

“It took you that long to have that kind of conversation?”

“What about you? Did you and your ex have a proper discussion about it?”

“No, he knocked me up, proposed later that year, and we got married in a courthouse while I was seven months pregnant.” She finishes her drink. “Just like a fairytale. Then when he promised we could have a real wedding, I got pregnant with Ben, and all that money went to him. S’alright, though, it would have been a waste of money.”

“Can I ask why you got divorced?”

“Well, the age difference was one thing. He’s seven years older than me, which may not seem like much, but it was. I felt like I couldn’t talk to him sometimes. Then he decided to cheat on me with some other young thing, so we went from separated to divorced real quick.”

“I’m so sorry.” He frowns slightly.

“Don’t be, it was a while ago. I think things worked out for the best. We’re all doing better now.”

“I think it’s admirable that you’ve turned your life around the way you have.”

“Thanks.” She smiles and he finishes off his drink. Once they pay their tab they head out. “I think it’s too cold to do what we did last time.”

“And I couldn’t persuade you to come back to my place for a bit?”

She looks down at her watch and sees it’s already 8:30. She sighs, biting her bottom lip.

“I…I want to, and if I didn’t have two kids at home waiting for me I would. Maybe…maybe you should find someone else to be your little fuck buddy. I’m not easy to be with.”

“Maybe that’s what I like about you.” He says, leaning forward so his lips brush yours, kissing you quickly before backing away. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

She groans once she’s in the car. When she gets home both Riley and Ben are in their rooms unwinding. She says hello and goes to her own room to get ready for bed. Y/N wonders what she would have done with Harry at his place. How he would have touched her and kissed her all over. She sighs and gets into bed, aggravated as fuck.

It was Thanksgiving weekend when Y/N took her next shot with Harry. The kids spent Thanksgiving day with her, and they had the rest of the weekend to be with Joseph. When Saturday night rolled around she was bored and lonely, so she called him.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hi, Y/N. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

“I did…although, I have way too many leftovers.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah! Um, you wouldn’t happen to be hungry, would you?”

“Starved.”

“Great, well, if you’d like to come over you can.”

“I can be there within the house. Just text me your address.”

He had assumed Riley and Ben weren’t home. He needed to take a quick shower before coming to see her, and she needed to do the same. She wanted to be as fresh as possible for him. When she heard the doorbell, she raced down the stairs to open it.

“So, I can heat up whatever-mph!” He had gripped her cheeks and pulled her into him, kissing her passionately.

“I didn’t actually come here to eat.” He breathes. “Well, I did…but not food.” He smirks and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and kisses on his neck as he carries her upstairs. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Last door on the right.” She mumbles into his hot skin.

He gets her in the bedroom, and sets her down. He starts taking his clothes off, and she does the same. He knees onto the bed to hover over her, and he kisses her, sucking on her bottom lip.

“Glad you finally called me for this.” He says as he licks around her nipple.

“You could have called me.”

“Didn’t want to look any more desperate.”

He nips at her stomach as he works his way down, giving her little to no warning before he licks into her. She gasps, gripping onto his hair. She bites her bottom lip as she feels his warm tongue lapping away at her. He sucks on her clit and slips two fingers inside her.

“When was the last time someone made you feel this good, hm? When was the last time someone made you this wet?”

“Wh-whenever the first time we hooked up was.” She whimpers.

“And before that?” He kitten licks at her clit now.

“God, I have no idea!” She moans out as his fingers pet inside her against her g-spot. He struggles to get a third finger in, so he doesn’t bother.

“Tighter than a fucking finger trap you know that?”

“I told you, I don’t make time to-oh!”

He started sucking on her clit again, and pumping his fingers quickly. She was squirming underneath him, panting and moaning loudly. She cries out as she comes, and he pumps his fingers slowly as her hips move along with his motions.

“Condoms?” He asks when he pops up.

“You don’t me to, um…?”

“Another time, I don’t think I’d last very long if you sucked on me.” He had been rutting himself against the mattress. She nods and reaches into her bedside drawer for a condom she toss it to him and watches as he rolls it on. “Roll over.”

She does as he says, and gets on her elbows and knees for him. He grips her hips, and lines himself up with her, pushing inside. It’s a tight squeeze, but he gets in no problem. They both moan out from the feeling. He reaches around to rub her clit, and she collapses onto the bed.

“God, just do what you want with me, Harry.” She grunts, and he moans from behind her.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you have no idea. Come for me, Y/N, come on.”

She cries out into her pillow, and he spills into the condom. Somehow after they both got cleaned up they ended up back in bed together. Harry through his arm around Y/N and pulled her to his chest.

“What are you doing?” She giggles.

“Cuddling you.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel like it.”

She laughs, but doesn’t fight him on it. Then…they fell asleep. It was a total accident, Harry never intended to spend the night. He just wanted to cuddle for a bit before heading out. He was more tired than he thought, and so was she. She nudges him awake.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says, knuckling at his eyes.

“It’s okay. Would you like to take a shower with me?”

“I would.” He smiles and gets up with her.

It was the dirtiest shower she had ever taken. He had gotten on his knees to eat her out, and then he lifted her up, fucking her into the bathroom tile wall. She left many scratch marks on his back, and then he came on her stomach. They got cleaned up for real after that, and headed downstairs for some coffee. Just as she was about to offer him some breakfast, she heard the front door open.

“Oh my god!” She whisper screams. “They’re not supposed to be back until later!”

“Be cool, Y/N.” Harry says.

“But-“

“Mum, we’re…Mr. Styles?” Riley says as she comes in with Ben. “What…what’s going on?”

“I should ask you the same. Why’s your father bring you back so soon?”

“We asked if he could.” Ben says. “Can only handle so much of his girlfriend.”

“So…Mr. Styles, um, no offense, but what are you doing here?”

“Well, your mum just so happens to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She had all these leftovers and asked me if I’d like any, and I said yes. I may be a Brit, but I love Thanksgiving dishes. So I came right over. Just got here a couple minutes before you did.”

“Yeah, I was just about to pull the food out. Why don’t you two go put your things away?”

Riley furrows her brows, but shrugs it off, and goes with Ben upstairs.

“You’re quick on your feet.”

“Wasn’t a total lie.” Harry says, finishing his coffee. “I better get going.” She walks him to the front door, and he gives her a sneaky kiss along with a bum squeeze. “See you soon, I hope.”

“Definitely.” She smiles. “Bye.” She opens the door for him and out he goes. She sighs happily, and goes into the kitchen to make a little breakfast.

Riley was a little suspicious after that morning. She spent most mornings in homeroom analyzing Harry’s features. He was his usual chipper self, but there was certainly an extra pep in his step. Then in biology it was the same thing.

“Riley?” Austin was standing in front of her desk, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, hey.” She smiles. “What’s up?”

“Are you free this Friday?”

“I…I think so.”

“Would you wanna go to the movies?” He runs a hand through his hair and she swallows.

“This is gonna sound really lame, but I need to ask my mom first.”

He chuckles slightly at that.

“No worries, let me know if she says yes.”

“I will.” Austin goes to his seat, and Riley looks at Chris who was giving her a thumbs up.

“Alright, if we could all settle down?” Harry says. “Today we’re going over fungi cells so I need all of your attention on me.”

Harry liked attention in general, probably one of the reasons he wanted to be a teacher in the first place. He just happened to also enjoy biology and he was good at explaining it to the youths. During class Riley felt her phone buzz, and saw she had a text from Ben.

Ben: reminder that I have a doctor’s appointment, so you have to wait after school for Mum to come get you

Riley: okay thanks, I’ll just go to the library to wait for her

“Riley!” She snaps her eyes up at the harsh tone from her teacher. “Is that your phone?”

“Y-yes…I’m sorry, Mr. Styles, my brother-“

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head. “You know the policy.” He gestures for her to give it to him.

“But he was just-“

“Is it an emergency?”

“No.”

“Alright then, give it here.” Everyone was looking at her, and it made her face flush. She gets up and walks towards him to hand over her phone. He takes it puts it in his desk drawer. “You can have it back after class.”

She nods, and goes back to her seat. After class she walks out, completely forgetting she had her phone taken away. She gets settled in the library, and gets some homework done. She was there for over an hour until Y/N showed up in a huff.

“Riley Davidson, I’ve been calling you for fifteen minutes!”

“Mum, be quiet!”

“If your brother hadn’t told me you were in the library I never would have found you. Where the hell is your phone?”

“It’s…oh shit.” She says as she packs up.

“What?”

“I forgot that Mr. Styles took it from me.”

“He what?!”

“Ben texted me while I was in class, and I texted back. He caught me, and took it away from me. It’s the policy.”

“I don’t give a fuck, that’s your property. Come on, hopefully he’s still here.”

He was. When they walk in, he was writing something on the whiteboard, furrowing his eyebrows. Looked like it was a chemistry equation. Y/N clears her throat to get his attention.

“Oh, hello ladies.”

“Where do you get off taking my daughter’s phone?”

“Oh! I completely forgot about that. You left right after class, Riley.” Harry goes into his desk and grabs the phone. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” She says as she swipes through to check any notifications she may have missed.

“It’s the policy, Y/N.”

“What if I got in a car accident and someone needed to reach her? Then what?”

“Did that happen?” He crosses his arms.

“No, but it could have.”

“But it didn’t. There’s no texting in class, no phone use of any kind, actually.”

“Mum, it’s fine, we can-“

“Excuse me, but that’s her property. If I need to get in touch with her, or if her brother does, then she should be able to send a quick text. It’s not like she was scrolling through Instagram.”

“But she could have been.”

“But she wasn’t!”

“Maybe you should hover over a little less, hm? Kids rely on their phones so much because their parents are constantly trying to see what they’re up to.”

Y/N takes her keys out from her purse, and hands them to Riley.

“I’m parked out front, go start the car for me. I’ll be just be another minute.” Riley nods and leaves quickly, knowing how bad it can be to be scolded by her mother. She certainly didn’t want to watch her favorite teacher get bitched out. “You don’t have kids, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“

“I have dozens of kids, actually. Ones that come to see me to talk to me about their problems, I’m also always studying trends of the today’s students, so don’t stand there and-“

“Do not interrupt me when I’m speaking.” She says firmly, and he closes his mouth. “You may speak when I’m finished, Mr. Styles. I’m a single mom doing my best for my kids. I will not be lectured in front of my daughter about being a helicopter parents because I’m not. However, I’m doing the job of two while my ex gets to be a weekend dad, who my kids don’t even want to see. It’s my fault Ben texted her at the time he did, alright? I asked him to remind her that I wouldn’t be picking her up until later because I had to take him to a doctor’s appointment.”

“May I?” She gestures that he can speak. “She didn’t need to text him back right then. It’s the school policy to take a phone away if we see it out, I was just doing my job.”

“Well, you should have remembered you took it so you could have given it back to her! I was sitting in the car for nearly twenty minutes waiting for her, I was starting to get worried.” Y/N pouts, and even though this was a very serious matter, Harry couldn’t help notice the blood starting to flow right to his prick.

“I’m very sorry about that.” He puts his hand on her shoulder, and she glances at it before looking at him. “I take ownership for that mistake. I feel terrible that I even caused an ounce of worry. If there’s anything I can do to make it better, please let me know.” His tone was condescending and seductive all at the same time.

She places her hand on his and removes it from her shoulder.

“Have a nice evening.” She says.

“Same to you.” He smirks.

Y/N makes her way to her car, and sighs heavily once she’s in there with Riley.

“Please don’t tell me you just yelled at him. He’s my favorite teacher, Mum.”

“No, we had a very adult conversation, and he apologized for not giving you back your phone when he should have after class.”

“I guess I could’ve waited to text Ben back. I’m sorry I caused all this.”

“It’s not your fault, honey, it’s fine.” She smiles at her daughter and they make their way home.

“I…I was asked to the movies this Friday, can I go?”

“With who?”

“Austin.”

“I’d like him to come to the house first so I can meet him properly. You’ve been hanging out in groups with him. Would this be one on one?”

“I think so. I can ask him if he minds coming inside first before we go.”

“That would be great.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you…are you and Mr. Styles, like, seeing each other?”

“What would ever give you that idea?!”

“I just think it’s weird that he was at our house.”

“We’ve become friends, you know I hang out with him and Mr. Horan sometimes.”

“Yeah, but Mr. Horan wasn’t there. It was just you and Mr. Styles, and you both had wet hair.”

“I had showered before he swung by, he must have done the same.” Y/N shrugs. “We’re just friends, honey, nothing more.”

“Okay.”

Y/N could tell Riley didn’t quite believe her, but she knew her daughter wouldn’t press her on it more for now. Not if she wanted to go to the movies with Austin.

“It’s nice to meet you, uh-“

“You can just call me Miss Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you too, Austin.” Y/N smiles. They were all standing in the front hall. “So…it’s just you two going to the movies?”

“That’s the plan.” He says with an innocent smile.

“Have her home by 10:30, please.”

“Can do.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Have fun.” She sighs and turns around to Ben. “What about you? No plans?”

“Not tonight. I was just gonna play video games.”

“Well, if you’d like to have a friend over-“ Her cell phone goes off and she furrows her brows. “One second, sweetie.” She goes into the kitchen for some more privacy. “Harry?”

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?”

“Hanging out with my son…why?”

“Oh, they’re not with their dad this weekend?”

“No, they were with him last weekend.” She sighs.

“Damn.”

“Why?”

“Well, Niall and a few other people were gonna go to this place where you can throw axes, and we thought you’d like to come.”

“That sounds like…fun? Um, but I can’t just leave Ben here alone. I’d feel terrible since Riley’s out.”

“Hey, Mum?”

“Honey, I’m on the phone.”

“I know, sorry, Kyle just texted me and asked me if I wanted to sleep over. I know it’s last minute, but-“

“You can go! You can definitely go, I’ll even drop you off.”

“You’re the best! I’m gonna go pack up my stuff.” Ben races out of the kitchen.

“Guess that just solved itself.” Harry says.

“Guess so.”

“Let me come pick you up. Text me when you get back from dropping him off, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Y/N gets herself ready, and then drives Ben to Kyle’s house for his sleepover.

“Why do you look so nice?” He asks on the way there.

“Well, I made plans with my own friends since you and Riley are out. Is that okay?” She chuckles.

“S’fine.” He shrugs. “Feel like you’ve been going out a lot lately. Are you, like, dating?”

“No, baby, I’m not dating. But I am making good friends, which has been nice. I didn’t have many friends back in our old town. Too many judgey moms.” She pulls up to Kyle’s house. “Have a great time, call me if you need me.”

“I will, thanks!”

She watches Ben go inside, and then she makes her way back home to wait for Harry. She liked his car a lot, and it would be nice to actually go for a drive in it, instead of just riding him in it. Y/N was shocked when she heard the doorbell.

“You didn’t have to come to the door.” She says as she steps outside.

“Sure I did. I may be just trying to fuck, but I’m a gentleman at the end of the day.” He smirks as he opens the car door for her. She rolls her eyes at him, and climbs in.

“This really is a nice car.” She says as she looks around.

“Saved up a long time for it.” He places his hand on her thigh as he backs out of the driveway, and he keeps it there.

“So, an axe throwing place?”

“It’s all the rage right now. You can drink and throw axes, it’s pretty cool. I’ve been once before it’s a hoot.” He chuckles and squeezes her thigh slightly. “I’m glad you were able to get out for a bit.”

“Me too.”

She lets him keep his hand on her leg for the entire ride as they chat over the music. He parks the car, and gets out, jogging around to the other side to open the door for her. She smiles at him, and they both head inside. He even gets them their drinks from the bar. It was starting to feel like a date, especially when she only saw Niall with one other person, some woman she had yet to meet.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Anna.” Niall says.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Y/N says to her. Harry comes over and hands her a drink. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. We all set?” He asks Niall.

“Yeah, we all just need to sign the release forms.”

They all sign and are brought over to the axe throwing area. They’re told how to do it, and they get going. Harry and Niall go first, and of course their axes stick. Y/N takes a deep breath, and throws her, but it doesn’t stick.

“That’s alright, give it another go.” Harry encourages her.

“I…I don’t think I threw it quite right.” She says to him.

“Would you like some help?” She nods yes at him and he steps closer to her, putting his hand on her back. “You need to release from this point, okay? Give it all you got.” He steps back and lets her throw it. It sticks and she squeals, turning to hug him. “I knew you could do it!”

Anna hits her target as well. The four of them were having a great time. Once their time is up, they all grab table for food. Y/N checks her phone, it was just about nine. No texts from the kids. She hoped Riley was having a nice time on her date, and that Austin was being respectful during their movie.

“Miss?” The waitress says to her.

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. Um…” She looks at the menu and then to Harry. Everyone else had clearly ordered.

“She’ll have the same as me, thanks, love.” Harry hands the waitress the menus and then looks at Y/N. “You like turkey burgers, right?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. My daughter’s on her first date, and I was just checking my phone to see if she had text me or anything.”

“You have a daughter that’s old enough to date?!” Anna says, shocked. “What’s your secret, girl? You look fantastic!” She laughs, and so does everyone else.

“I was a young mum, nothing more than that.” Y/N chuckles. “She’s only fourteen, a freshman out with a sophomore boy from her biology class. It’s cute, really, he’s on the football team and she’s been to a few of his games. They’ve been hanging out in groups, but tonight is the first one on one.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Listen to me, it sounds like I’m recapping an episode of The Bachelor.”

“Do you have any other kids, or just the one?” Anna asks.

“I have a son, Ben, he’s thirteen. Niall’s his teacher actually.”

“Yup, great kid. Harry has Y/N’s daughter in class too.” Niall tells her.

“Is that how you two met?” Anna asks, and you smirk.

“No, actually, the three of us met because I parked too close to Harry’s precious car in the staff lot. I work in our development office.” She sips her drink smirking at Harry who had slumped in the booth. “He yelled at me, it was quite the meet cute.”

“Yikes, I’ve never seen Harry yell before.” Anna says. “You’re usually so calm.”

“I’ve had that car for two years, not a scratch on it, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Harry says. “It’s all water under the bridge now.” He puts his arm around Y/N, smiling down at her.

There’s more talking during the meal. Y/N really liked the turkey burger Harry had ordered for her. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. It was about ten, and Y/N wanted to get home before Riley like a responsible adult. She tells Harry this, and he nods.

“It was really nice meeting you, Anna.” Y/N tells her again.

“Same to you, have a nice night.” They all part ways in the parking lot. “Oh, I like her so much better than Francie already.” She tells Niall.

“Me too.” Niall sighs. “But you know they’re not really dating.”

“I know, I know, but this was a very nice glimpse for them to see what a date could be like. They were so cute with each other.”

“I agree, I just think Harry’s still on the rebound. I also don’t think he’s mature enough to be dating a woman with two teenagers. Little kids maybe, but teenagers? That’s a lot to take on. Besides, what if he wants kids? Y/N’s in her early thirties, she probably wouldn’t want more.”

“Isn’t that what Harry and Francie broke up over? She wanted kids and he didn’t.” Anna shrugs. “Let them figure it out.”

Y/N and Harry were parked in her driveway making out. The damn console was in the way, but he was still able to get his tongue into her mouth. Her hands were in his hair, tugging him closer to her even though she knew she needed to get out of the car.

“Harry.” She breathes as he starts kissing on her neck. “I…I need to go inside. I can’t be out here like this when Riley gets home.” She gasps when she feels his teeth nip at her skin, and then he pulls away, almost glaring at her.

“Man, nothing to kill a hard on more than a mention of a student’s name.” He huffs.

“I told you…this might be easier for you if you wanted to fuck someone without kids.”

“Well, I’m kinda hooked on you now, so I can’t do that.” His thumb brushes her bottom lip as he cups her cheek. He leans in to kiss her again. “Do you think we could get together tomorrow since it seems like we can’t fool around tonight?”

“Sure, I have some errands I need to run anyways, so I can add you to the list.” She winks. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, sounds good.” He chuckles. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“So did I, goodnight.” She smiles and hops out of the car. She quickly gets herself inside.

Harry backs out of the driveway just as Austin pulls up with Riley.

“Whoa, who do you know with a range rover?” Austin asks.

“That’s…Mr. Styles’ car.” She swallows as she watches him drive away. “He’s friends with my mom. She texted me saying she was seeing some friends tonight, I guess he drove her.”

“Cool.” Austin says. “I’ll walk you to your door.” He does so, and they linger there for a moment. They hug each other, and he gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” She smiles.

“Great, well, have a good night.”

“You too. Thanks again.” Her heart soars as she goes inside. She finds Y/N sitting on the couch watching TV.

“How was the movie?”

“Really funny.” Riley plops down next to her. “Where’s Ben?”

“Sleeping at Kyle’s.”

“Oh, nice. So…where did you go tonight?”

“To this axe throwing place. It was fun, look.” She takes her phone and shows Riley a video of her throwing an axe and it sticking to the wooden target.

“Cool! You went there with Mr. Styles?”

“Mhm, and Mr. Horan and his girlfriend Anna.”

“Oh my god, Mum.” Riley gasps. “You went on a double date!”

“I did not.” Y/N scoffs.

“Did Mr. Styles pay for anything?”

“Well…yeah, he did, but he said it was just easier.” Riley gives her a look. “What?”

“Mum, he definitely was making a move!”

“And what do you know about moves, hm?”

“Apparently more than you. You two should go out one on one and see how it goes.”

“I’ve done that with him before.” Y/N shrugs. “We’re just friends, Riley.”

“He drove you tonight, right? I saw him pulling out of the driveway when I got home.”

“He offered to drive, yeah, and I accepted. He’s got a really nice car, thought it would be fun to go for a ride in it.” Y/N blushes slightly, annoyed at her own innuendo. “I’m not dating your teacher, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t hate it.” Riley shrugs. “You deserve to have someone, Mum. Dad’s out there with miss thing living what he perceives as his best life, you should do the same.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship right now.” Y/N sighs. “I don’t have time for it. If Ben hadn’t gone to Kyle’s I wouldn’t have been able to go out tonight.”

“He can stay at home by himself.”

“But I would have felt bad about it. I like being home when you guys are home.”

“We’re not babies, that’s all I’m saying.” She twiddles her thumbs. “Plus, he’s super cute, so-“

“Riley!” Y/N chuckles and throws a pillow at her. “Don’t talk about your teacher like that.”

“He is! I don’t have a crush on him, but anyone with eyes can see how cute he is, Mum.”

“I’ll agree with that, he’s very cute.” She yawns. “Well, now that you’re home I’m gonna go up to bed. Was Austin respectful and all that tonight?”

“Very.” Riley smiles. “He asked me if I wanted to do it again sometime. I’m excited about him.”

“It’s a nice feeling, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N hoped the feeling would never fade for her daughter because she knew all too well how it felt when it does.

The next day, after Ben got dropped off, Y/N told the kids she was going out to run some errands, and asked them to get some chores done while she was gone. She genuinely needed to get some things while she was out, so she did that before going over to Harry’s. It felt odd to be going over to his place in the middle of the day for a dick appointment, as the kids would say, but this was happening. She pulls up to a nice duplex, and she recognizes Niall’s car in the other driveway. She texts Harry that she’s down front, and she sees the front door open on one side. She gets out of her car and greets him.

“Find it alright?” He says to her as he lets her in.

“Mhm, this is a cool place.”

“Thanks, Niall and I bought it together, like, five or so years ago. We fixed up one side and then the other.”

“So he gets one side and you the other?”

“Yup, worked out well. I’ve redecorated recently, for, um, obvious reasons.”

“Right, trust me I know how hard it can be living in the same place where good and bad memories were made.”

“Is that why you came out here?”

“One of the reasons she sighs as she kicks her shoes off. “I needed a fresh start.”

He hums his response as he cups her jaw in his large hands, bringing his lips to hers.

“How long do you have?” He says against her lips.

“An hour at most. I have to go to the grocery store after this.”

“Oh.” He smirks. “You won’t be going to the store after this.”

“Wh-why not?” She swallows.

“Because you’re not gonna be able to walk when I’m done with you.” He bends down and lifts her up over his shoulder and she squeals.

“Harry!” She giggles as he brings upstairs to his room. Fuck, he was strong. “What will I tell my kids when I’m walking funny?”

“Tell them good old Mr. Styles cracked your spine in half, I’m sure that’ll go over well.” He drops her on his bed, and gets his shirt off. She looks up wide eyed at him. “Oh, love, I’m not actually gonna do that.”

“I know, I’ve just never seen your tattoos in the daylight like this. I mean when we showered I sort of did, but…they’re so pretty.”

His features soften and he picks her up again, getting himself on the bed and laying her down. He sucks on her bottom lip as she wraps her arms and legs around him. His hands work to undo her jeans, and he tugs them down past her bum. She kicks them off the rest of the way, and he pets her over her underwear. She moans into his mouth, and his dips his fingers inside, sliding along her slit. She could feel him growing hard against her hip.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you blow me for a bit?”

“Of course! Lay down.”

He gives her a relieved smile and lays back on the bed. She gets between his legs and does his pants. She gets them off and tugs his boxers down. She kisses his tip first, then gives his shaft kisses before licking him up and down. She looks up at him and sees he’s already watching her. She smirks and wraps her lips around his tip, sinking down on him as much as she could.

“Yeah, just like that.” He groans. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

She moans against him and bobs her head up and down. This wasn’t her favorite thing to do in the world, but she didn’t mind do it for it for Harry since he was so attentive with her. She gets him to the brink of coming, and then he pulls her off of him. He gets her naked, and opens her legs up, diving right in. The flat of his tongue sliding up her center to her clit. He sucks both of her lips, one at a time before focusing on her clit again. Two of his fingers slip inside her, and her eyes roll back. He has her crying out moments later, and before she knows it he’s getting a condom on.

“Can I go on top?” She asks.

“Sure.” He shrugs and lays down, his cock stiff and ready for her.

She swings her leg over him, and rubs his tip over her clit before sinking down on his. His hands grip her hips as she moves around in a circle to get comfortable. She moves herself on and off his cock, enjoying the stretch he’s giving her. When she gets a little tired she comes down to him chest to chest, and kisses him. His hands slide to her ass, and he moves her on him. He thrusts in and out of her, and she moans into his neck.

“Like the way I feel like this?” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck.” She mumbles. Her clit was rubbing against him perfectly, and she was trying to concentrate on that. “Don’t stop what you’re doing.” She tugs at his hair and he nearly growls.

He thrusts into her faster and faster, it has her panting and moaning. His tip was hitting her g-spot, so the whole thing was really overwhelming. She moans out his name loudly as she comes, and he fucks her through it. He lifts her off of him, and sets her down on her stomach. He gets behind her and pushes back inside. She gasps, but it feels good. He fucks her from behind until he comes, and collapses on top of her. He holds her for a moment before pulling out and getting rid of the condom. She uses the bathroom, and gets dressed. He throws on a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt.

“Thanks for adding me to your list of errands.” He says to her as they stand in his front hall. She giggles into his chest as he hugs her and kisses the top of her head.

“My legs are working just fine, by the way. But I’m too tired to go grocery shopping now.”

“Well, you only gave me a bloody hour, love, and you made me come really fast.” He pouts. “Can’t seem to last that long with you.”

“Maybe you should jerk off before I come over next time so you can handle it.” She grins and he rolls his eyes.

“You came twice didn’t you?” She nods yes. “Alright then, quit your complaining. Go on, get outta my house.” He pats her bum and kisses her one more time. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“You too.” Y/N drove home with a smile on her face the whole way.

Things were like this most weekends, especially when the kids were at Joseph’s. Harry would come over on Friday night instead of Saturday in case he fell asleep. Plus if he stayed the night that meant they could have sex most of the day Saturday, which was really nice. Y/N was having a lot of fun with Harry. Sometimes they’d meet up with Anna and Niall to go bowling, or catch a movie. In a way it felt like dating, but there was absolutely zero pressure. It was the exact companion ship she had hoped for.

When the holidays rolled around, she got the kids for Christmas, and Joseph got them for New Year’s, which meant Y/N could go to the party Harry was having. Apparently it was an annual thing. There were a lot of people from school there so she felt right at home. Y/N hadn’t had a New Year’s kiss in quite some time, so it wasn’t even on her mind until all of the couples migrated towards each other as it got closer to midnight.

Harry was wandering through his home trying to find her. She was in the kitchen refilling her drink. He lets out a sigh of relief. He could hear people starting the countdown.

“Christ, there you are!” He says to her, pulling her into him.

“You were looking for me?”

“Course I was, who else am I gonna kiss, hm?” They hear everyone yell ‘one’ and he plants one on her. She thought it would be a simple peck since there were people around, but no, Harry full on kissed her. “Happy New Year.” He breathes and then kisses her forehead.

“Happy New Year.” She says faintly as he walks away from her to continue being a good host. She was one of the last people there, feeling drained at nearly two in the morning. She was getting her coat, about ready to say goodbye when he looked at her funny. “What?”

“Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

“Home.”

“Nope, sorry, m’afraid you’re staying with me tonight. Get that coat off, now.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Is that so?”

“it is.” He nods, and she smirks at him stepping closer to him.

“Make me.” She grins and his eyebrows raise.

“Right.”

Before she knows it she’s being picked up and carried to his room. They both giggle as he gets her in his room. He gets her jacket and boots off, and he tosses her one of his bed shirts.

“What’s this for?” She asks as she holds the shirt up.

“To sleep? Can’t fuck you right now, I’m knackered.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “Alright, well, thank you. Um…you wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush and a washcloth then would you?”

“Sure, I’ll pull that out of the linen closet for you, one second.” He leaves the bedroom and comes back shortly and gives her what she asked for.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and starts taking his clothes. “Feel free to use the bathroom first.”

She nods and does so. She liked the way his shirt fit, how it hugged her thighs and just barely covered her bum. She washes up and shyly pads back into the bedroom. He smiles when he sees her, and watches as she crawls onto the bed.

“Well, don’t you look cute.” He pinches her thigh as she settled.

“Oh! Don’t do that.” She swats his hand away and he chuckles, getting up from the bed.

“Back in a tick.”

He shuts the lights off once he’s done in the bathroom, and gets into bed with her. She felt awkward until he yanked her onto his chest.

“You can be pretty forceful sometimes, you know that?”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not really, it’s not like I don’t feel safe.”

“You feel safe with me?” He asks softly.

“I do.” She feels him hold her a little closer.

“I just want what I want when I want it I guess.”

“So I’ve noticed. I like a man that knows what he wants, though, so it’s not like it’s a turn off.

“Aw, so you feel safe with me and you like me. A Happy New Year indeed.” She sucks her teeth at that and it makes him laugh. “What’s wrong, can’t take a bit of teasing?”

“I can, you’re just annoying.” She nudges him and he kisses the top of her head.

“You’re fun, Y/N.” He chuckles.

“Let’s get some sleep so you can fuck me in the morning, yeah?”

“I like the way you think.” He sighs and lets his eyes droop closed.

Y/N and Harry spent most of New Year’s day in his best, and neither of them would have had it any other way.

“Y/N?” One of her student workers comes into her office. “Mr. Horan from the math department is here to see you.”

“He is?” She raises an eyebrow. “Um, alright, he can come in.” The girl nods and lets Niall in. He closes the door behind him. “Is everything alright with Ben?”

“Yeah, this isn’t work related.”

“Oh…alright, would you like to have a seat?”

“No, it won’t take long…um…did you know Harry’s birthday is on the first of February?”

“I did not know that, no.”

“Right, well, I’m throwing him a party at this pub he really likes to go to. He’s turning thirty, you know? Wanted it to be a little more special for him.” She nods and he continues. “He’s shy about his birthday, and he’d never come right out and say it, but I know it would be mean the world to him if you came.”

“Well, of course I’ll go. It’s not like I haven’t been to a party with him before.”

“Yes, but instead of casually coming over to his New Year’s party…you’d sort of be showing up as his lady, you know?”

“What are you getting at here?”

“Come on, Y/N.” Niall scoffs. “He’s crazy about you, can’t you see that?”

“Niall…” She says in a hushed tone. “You know very well that he and I are nothing more than-“

“Fuck buddies, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “This has been going on for months, you seriously don’t want more with the guy?”

“No.” She swallows. “I’m getting exactly what I need from him. He doesn’t want more either, what we’re doing works for both of us. Has…has he said something to you?”

“Not in so many words, but he talks about you enough. I think it’s silly to not go for it.”

“Look, if I didn’t have two kids maybe things could be different between him and I, but it’s not that simple. I don’t want more…at least not right now.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “I’ll text you the details for the party, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and keep it a secret. He thinks we’re going on a bar crawl.”

She nods and out the door he goes. She sighs heavily and shakes her head. Now there would be all this pressure for his birthday. Did she need to get him a gift? And what kind of gift should it be?

“Mum, you look so good.” Riley says sitting on Y/N’s bed when she comes out in a red dress.

“Thank you, honey.”

“And this is for a friend’s birthday party?”

“Yes.”

“Whose birthday?” Riley grins.

“Harry’s.” Y/N sighs.

“Did you get him anything good?”

“I…I got him, like, well, you know how he likes to wear all those rings? So I saw this ring at the store that I thought he might like.”

“You got him a ring?”

“Is it weird? It’s weird right? I just…I saw it and I thought of him, and I-“

“I bet he’ll love it, Mum.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Listen…you’ll be alright with Ben tonight? I…I could either be home really late, or I might not come back until the morning depending on how much I have to drink.”

“He’s setting up some movies and popcorn for us as we speak. We can handle it.”

“Good, okay, thank you.”

“Where would stay if you don’t come home?”

“Mr. Horan has offered me his guest room if need be.” It was a blatant lie but she couldn’t very well tell her fourteen-year-old that she was most likely going to have birthday sex with her teacher.

“Okay.” Riley shrugs and goes downstairs with Y/N. The doorbell rings. “I’ve got it.” She says as Y/N gets her coat on. “Hi, Mr. Styles.”

“Hello, Riley, is your mum ready to go?”

“Mhm, she’s just getting her coat on. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and then uses all his willpower to not let his jaw drop when he sees Y/N. He couldn’t even see her dress, but he could tell she’d be a knockout tonight. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She smiles and turns to Riley and Ben. “Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. I can be home in a flash. I’ll text you later to let you know what my, um, plans are.” She blushes and pushes Harry outside as the kids wave them off.

“She’s not subtle.” Ben says as he plops onto the couch.

“I know, I wish they’d just admit they’re in love and get on with it.” Riley says and starts the movie.

Harry opens the backseat of Niall’s car for her, and then he jogs around to the other side. Niall was driving, and Anna was in the passenger seat. Everyone greets one another and off they go. Harry keeps his hand on Y/N’s knee the whole way, and she puts her hand over his. They smile at each other, but nothing is said. Needless to say he was surprised by there being a party at the pub for him, but he was delighted.

Niall had done really well. Lots of drinks and appetizers going around, good music, and people mingling. There was even a cheesy slideshow of every single one of Harry’s school pictures throughout the years, and Y/N had to fight tears from laughing so hard at some of them. Harry couldn’t have asked for a better birthday, especially with Y/N around. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her all night, and eventually his arm didn’t leave from its place around her waist. No one really paid it any attention. Most people knew there was something going on between the two of them, but it was none of their concern. The single men in the room at the least knew not to hit on her. No one really wanted to get on Harry’s shit list.

There was a table for gifts, but Y/N kept hers in her purse, not wanting it to get lost. She also wanted to give it to him in private in case things got awkward. She had overthought the ring over and over. It was this nice topaz band that she thought he’d like. He said he was always looking for a pop of color in his wardrobe.

“Hey.” He says to her, pulling her into him. “Are you gonna come home with me?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Are you having a good time?”

“A great time. Couldn’t have asked to turn thirty with better people.” He tucks some hair behind her ear and she shivers. “Can’t to get you back to my place, though.” He leans in to speak in her ear. “M’gonna mess up all this pretty makeup you’re wearing.” He kisses her cheek and lets her go. She was suddenly counting down the moments until it was time to leave.

When it came time, she helped grab all of the gifts off the table and bring them to Niall’s car. She had texted Riley that she wouldn’t be coming home which she felt slightly guilty about. She didn’t like giving up her weekends with the kids like this. Niall and Anna help get everything inside, and then leave Harry and Y/N alone, drinking water in the kitchen. He comes over to her, putting his hands on her hips, and pulling her forward.

“Have I told you how fucking sexy you look tonight? I’ve had to hold my hand under my jaw all night just to keep it from dropping.”

“Idiot.” She chuckles. “Oh! Wait, I got you something.” She snatches her purse from the counter.

“So it’s not lingerie? Sort of thought you were my gift.” He smirks and she rolls her eyes.

“That wouldn’t be very original, and I don’t find lingerie to be particularly comfortable, sorry, Sport.” She fishes the ring box out of her purse. “Here we are. If it’s weird feel free to just kick me out…I saw it thought you’d like it, nothing more to it than that.”

He takes the box from her, furrowing his brows. His eyes widen as he opens it up. He looks between her and the topaz band several times.

“Are you serious?” He says.

“Y-yeah…do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it! I just can’t decide what finger to put it on.”

“I guessed on the size. You have such fat fingers, so I went with a larger one.”

“Think that’s the first time I’ve heard you complain about my fingers. Better be the last.” He slips the ring onto his middle finger and holds it out. “It’s perfect, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Like I said, I saw it and thought you’d like it.”

He hugs her and she hugs him back. He kisses her cheek and works his way to her lips. He sucks on her bottom lip, and she tugs at his shirt. His hands slide down to her ass and he squeezes.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” He says against her lips, and lifts her up onto the counter.

“Mm-mm, just bring me upstairs, I don’t wanna have sex on the counter again.”

“But it’s my birthday.” He pouts.

“Yeah, and last time we did this my back hurt for, like, three days, so bring me upstairs.”

He sucks his teeth and lifts her back up, carrying her bridal style out to the staircase, and up to his room. He sets her down on the bed and takes her heels off, sliding his hands up her calves and thighs. He pulls her to her feet so he can lift the dress up over her head. He tugs her nylons off along with her underwear, and unclips her bra, leaving her naked in front of him. He licks his lips and kisses her. Running his hands all over her body. She works to get his shirt undone, and pushes it off his shoulders. She undoes his pants and lets them drop to the floor, he steps out of them, and they both fall back on the bed. He grinds his hard dick, still clothes by his boxers, right into her core, and she groans. He continues to grind against her, and she moves her hips along with his to get some extra friction.

“I want you to suck me off while I fuck you with my tongue.”

She nods and they switch positions so he can lay on his back. She gets situated over his face, and she lowers herself on his body. His tongue moves back and forth along her slit before entering her. She gasps just as she’s getting her lips wrapped around him. His hands grip her hips so he can lick into her in just the right way. She moans around his cock as she tries to bob up and down on him. He removes his tongue from her so he can finger her, and he licks up to her other hole, something they’ve done before. She chokes on his dick and pulls off, choosing to pump him instead.

“Shit, Harry, oh my god!”

He moans against her as she comes around his fingers. He pulls his fingers away and laps her up. He rolls her onto her stomach, and he grabs a condom quickly. He rolls it on and spreads her legs wide open. She lifts her hips up as he pushes inside her, and he grabs a pillow to put under her back. He rocks in and out of her as his hands knead her breasts. She wraps her arms around his neck to pull him down to her, and she licks into his mouth. He moans into her as their chests touch and sweat starts to form between their bellies.

“Y/N.” He moans into her ear, and it raises goosebumps all over skin. She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. He kisses on her neck and she runs her fingers through his hair. “I want you to come at the same time as me, think you can do that?”

“Y-yeah.”

He snakes a hand between them so he can rub her clit and her mouth falls open. They make eye contact the entire time, and they cry out as they come together. He collapses on top of her, and she holds him close, kissing his cheek multiple times. He keeps his head buried in her chest for a few moments. He looks up at her, about to say something, but her phone goes off.

“Shit, it could be the kids…”

“One second.” He pulls out of her with a grunt, and lets her up. She gets up and waddles over to his dresser and grabs her phone.

“Ben?”

“Hi, Mum, I’m sorry it’s so late, but Riley doesn’t feel well. I think it’s her period, but she’s on the floor, like, clutching at her stomach and I don’t know what to do for her…”

“Shit, okay, um, get her a glass of milk and two ibuprofen from the cabinet. I’ll be home soon, I’ll set up a warm compress for her. She gets really bad cramps like me sometimes.”

“Okay, thanks, sorry again.”

“No problem, I’ll see you soon.” She turns to Harry. “I…I’m sorry, I can get an uber or-“

“I’ll drive you, don’t be silly.” He says, already throwing some sweats on. “Do you want something to change into so you don’t have to put all that back on?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

He gets her a sweatshirt and some sweatpants. Once she’s cleaned herself up they’re out the door and into his car. This time around he holds her hand the whole way, their fingers intertwined and everything. When he turns the car off when he pulls in, she gives him a funny look.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m coming in, obviously.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know, now come on.”

They get inside, and poor rile is still laying on the floor sucking milk out of a straw. Ben was sitting on the ground neck to her rubbing her back.

“Mum?”

“Hi, sweetie.” Y/N gets on her knees next to her.

“Feels like someone’s squeezing my insides with a spiked glove.”

“I know, baby, the medicine will work soon, I promise.” She sighs. “Ben, in the bathroom cabinet is where the warm compresses are, could you get one for me please?”

“Yeah.” He stands up and looks at Harry, but doesn’t say anything. Riley sees Harry’s sneakers and turns to look at him.

“Hey, Mr. Styles…”

“Hey.” He smiles. “Not feeling great, huh?”

“Cramps.” She says bluntly.

“Ugh, that’s the worst.” He sits down next to her. “My older sister used to get them really bad, I felt terrible.”

Ben comes back with the warm compress, and Y/N snaps it to get it to warm up, and she presses it to Riley’s lower back. She sighs from the feeling.

“See? Better already.” Y/N says.

“I don’t know what happened. I was fine all night, and then I got up to get some more soda, and I basically fell to the ground.”

“The bad ones can creep up on you unfortunately. I need to get you up to your room.”

“I could carry her…if…if that’s alright with everyone.” Harry says.

“That would be okay.” Riley says. “No one else could do it anyways.”

He helps her up, double and triple checking it’s okay that he’s touching her, and he carries her up. Y.N has Ben clean up the living room before he goes to bed. Y/N goes into Riley’s room after Harry’s places her on her bed.

“All set?” Y/N says to her, brushing some hair away from her face.

“Yeah, thank you.” She yawns. “Goodnight.”

“Night, honey.”

Y/N tugs Harry into her room, and closes the door.

“I’m so sorry, thank you for coming in…I don’t know how I would’ve helped her upstairs, I would have had to make a bed for her on the couch.” Y/N starts tearing up. “There are so many things I can do for them on my own until I’m reminded that there are things that I just can’t.”

“Hey.” He puts his hands on her shoulders. “You’re a great mum and you’re doing what you can. I couldn’t imagine being so young and raising two teenagers. You make it look easy, honestly. You’re amazing, Y/N.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.” He nods.

“Would you…I mean…it’s late, um, would you want to just stay here?”

“It wouldn’t be weird for you?”

“No.” He smiles and starts taking his clothes off. They get into bed together and cuddle all night. He somehow was always exactly what she needed, and it scared her a little. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Put me at ease the way you do?”

“I don’t know.” He smiles down at her. “Didn’t realize I did that for you.”

“Well, you do. And I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Christ, Y/N, just admit you like me as more than just a guy who fucks you good so we can date already.”

“What?” She sits up and so does he. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. You don’t wanna date? I mean we practically already are when you think about it. I’m not seeing anyone else, are you?”

“With your clingy ass? Who would have the time?!” She laughs.

“Oi, I resent that.”

“You ask me to hang out literally every weekend.”

“Yeah, cause I need to get to you before someone else does.”

“Harry…you realize if you get into a relationship with me you’re getting into a relationship with my kids, right?”

“I do.” He nods. “I know it’ll be a lot, but if it means I get to be with you…I think I could be all in with them. I can’t speak for Ben, but I know Riley likes me. I feel like we could make this work.”

“I don’t want more kids…I’m almost thirty-four, I would hate for you to end up wanting kids of your own. That’s not something I can give you, Harry.”

“You know what I’d really like?”

“What?”

“A dog. I’m great with pets, absolutely great. I miss having a pup around. If we get to a point where we feel like that’s the right move, that would definitely be enough for me.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog.” She bites her bottom lip. “Wow, okay, so…we’re doing this?”

“We fucking better be, I think Niall will explode if we don’t.”

They both giggle, and kiss each other. They settle back down to get some sleep, ready for whatever the morning brings.

a/n: if you liked what you’ve read, and are able/want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee.

#harry styles #something new #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #teacher!Harry

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topperscumslut · 2 years

Text

Dress - Topper Thornton x Reader (SMUT)

Summary: You and Topper have your first time together after Midsummers. Yes this is named after (and inspired by) the Taylor Swift song.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex

You felt the soft summer heat melting on your skin in a soothing sensation, and your heart pounded in anticipation for what the night would hold. It was the night of Midsummers, and your boyfriend Topper had been your date. You and Topper had been dating for a couple months and he made you happier than you had ever been. Sarah had helped set you two up last semester as she knew you both had feelings for each other. You and Sarah were good friends and had helped each other get ready for tonight, but there was one thing she didn’t know.

Tonight was going to be you and Topper’s first time.

In fact, it was going to be your first time at all. Topper had had his first with a girl at a party sophomore year, but he and Sarah had both told you that he was really excited to have his “second first time” with someone he really loved. Topper was a hopeless romantic at heart, after all. That was part of why he wanted to do it so badly with Sarah, she had said, because he finally found someone he loved. She was so glad when Topper had finally gotten over her and found you, and lucky for you both it didn’t bother Topper that his girlfriend and his ex were best friends. If anything, he was grateful that Sarah had helped the two of you get together, and he had finally accepted that she was happy with John B.

Topper had picked you up in his Jeep at the beginning of the night, eyes widening as you answered the door in your long, royal blue dress that was tailored to your body.

“Whoa. You look beautiful.” He had smiled at you, blushing.

You had thanked him, yourself blushing as well, before hopping into his Jeep and heading off to the party, his hand on your thigh as he drove. You couldn’t deny it, feeling his touch like that was starting to turn you on. You and Topper had fooled around a bit before, but you hadn’t gone all the way yet, and you were both nervous and excited for what was to come tonight.

There were so many people at the party, it took almost the whole night to say hi to them all. You were friends with the pogues, albeit not particularly close to them due to being a kook yourself, but any friend of Sarah’s was a friend of yours, and they had definitely taken more of a liking to you than they had to your boyfriend. You hung out for a bit with Sarah and Kiara, while the rest of the pogues talked on their own and Topper spent some time with Rafe and Kelce. Topper knew you didn’t particularly love his friends, but he was always sure to stand up for you when Rafe said something shitty, and he didn’t exactly love the pogues, so the two of you called it even. What mattered was that you loved each other.

“I still think you could do a lot better, (Y/N). Is he good in bed at least?”

“Kie!” You blushed and whacked her on her shoulder, a bit annoyed at her insulting your boyfriend but mostly embarrassed about her latter comment.

“They actually haven’t yet… unless there’s something you’re not telling me?” Sarah inquired.

“No, no, we haven’t yet. Topper’s a gentleman. We-we’re taking it slow.” You blushed to your hairline as you made eye contact with Topper across the party.

Kie laughed. “Never thought I’d hear ‘Topper’ and ‘gentleman’ in the same sentence,” you rolled your eyes, “oh well, I should probably get back to the boys. See ya later, (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, I should probably go dance with John B before he gets antsy. Have a good night with Topper!” Sarah said, running off with Kie.

“Hey,” you heard a voice behind you, and jumped as you turned around to see your boyfriend.

“Hey. Were you watching me, Top?” You smiled.

“Maybe a little. But just because I had something to ask you.”

“And what would that be?”

Topper took your hand as a slow song came on. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

You interlocked your fingers with his and pressed your bodies closer together. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Topper wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were touching and swaying with the music. Every touch of his fingertips against your bare skin made you feel like you were on fire and feeling his toned body pressed against you was making you heat up with desire, watching his lightly parted lips and anticipating what was to come after the party.

God, am I really getting turned on at Midsummer’s?

You felt his hand reach lower and rest on your butt, blushing at the maneuver.

“Are you trying to tease me, Top?”

He smirked devilishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Oh yeah?” You pressed yourself more firmly against him, feeling him stiffen as your bodies met.

“What’s the matter, Top?” you teased.

He groaned a bit under his breath before pulling you closer to him and lifting your chin up with his fingertips to whisper in your ear, hot breath hitting your face. “I can’t wait for tonight, baby girl.”

“Me neither,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to kissing. You looked in his beautiful blue eyes, blushing from the effect that he had on you. You were feeling your arousal become more intense, and the flashbacks of passionate nights in the backseat of Topper’s Jeep were all rushing back to you.

“What do you say we head out after this song?” Topper suggested. “There’s only what, maybe 20 more minutes left? That is, if that’s okay with you.”

You were a bit anxious, knowing what was to come, but also not sure if you could wait much longer with the way that Topper was teasing you.

“Y-yeah, I’d love that.”

“You sure?” Topper could tell you were a bit nervous, with it being your first time and all. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, really. If you don’t want it.”

“No, Top, I really want it. I’m just a little scared. What if it hurts, and what if I’m not good?”

“Baby, don’t say that.” He played with the strands of your hair falling in front of your face while dancing with you. “If it hurts we can stop. Whenever you want. And I’m sure you’ll do amazing. I’m so excited to do this with you, baby.”

You smiled, kissing him gently. “So am I.”

The song came to an end, Topper leading you gracefully to where his Jeep was parked.

“You ready (Y/N)?”

You blushed a bit, butterflies building in your stomach in anticipation. “As I’ll ever be.”

You hopped into the passenger seat of Topper’s Jeep as he drove off to his house, Taylor Swift playing in the background. He rubbed your knee reassuringly, noticing your nerves. However, despite your anxiety, you were so excited to have your first time with Topper, and your body was already yearning for it from the way you had been dancing. You felt your core heat up as he drove you to his place, feeling tingles all over as he pulled into the driveway.

“My mom’s gone for the night,” he reassured you, kissing your nose as he opened your car door for you.

Topper had such a beautiful house. Every time you walked in you admired it as if it was the first time you were seeing it. Holding your hand, he led you up to his bedroom, stopping you before you opened the door.

“Wait! Hold on just a minute, okay baby girl?” You nodded, waiting outside of his room, as he kissed your forehead and went inside.

You waited for a couple seconds, rubbing your thighs together, trying to get a bit of relief. Topper’s touch had gotten you insanely turned on, and you were already dying to go further.

He opened the door for you, grinning sweetly at you as you walked in. “It’s ready, baby.”

You walked into Topper’s bedroom where the only light shining were his red LEDs and a couple candles with tropical scents of pineapple and coconut. There were rose petals leading your way to his bed, and you followed them in awe.

“Top… this is so beautiful. Thank you.” You kissed him, gently at first, feeling his soft, plump lips against yours. He held his face as he kissed you, deepening it with his tongue, kissing you like he’d never been able to again. The kiss was filled with passion as he pulled you on top of him onto his bed.

“(Y/N)…”

“Topper”

“You look so gorgeous right now.” He kissed you again, attempting to pull your dress off.

“Oh, Top.”

“Yeah babe?”

You blushed and laughed a little. “I’m really horny right now.”

He felt his way up your thighs, knowing how it made you weak. “Oh I can tell. Trust me, I feel exactly the same.”

You started to palm him through his dress pants, his mouth falling open with pleasure and a breathy moan. “Oh fuck, babe.” His eyes closed and his face scrunched cutely in pleasure as you continued to feel him.

“Does that feel good, Top?” you teased.

“Really, really good, baby girl.”

“Good.” You kissed him, still on top of him, until he pulled away and started to strip himself of his clothing. He shed his blue jacket, before unbuttoning his dress shirt and slipping off his pants, leaving him in his boxers in front of you.

“You’re so handsome, Topper,” you told him, playing with his hair, gently scratching and massaging his scalp. Topper loved when you were affectionate like this. He loved the attention and love that you gave him, it made him feel like the luckiest guy alive. You kissed his forehead gently as you admired his chiseled body. You swore Topper had the body of a Greek god. You took yourself off of him for a second, giving him the opportunity to strip you of your formal blue dress.

“Want some help getting that off, baby?” He asked, his deep voice falling to a whisper as he found his way to the zipper of your dress.

“Of course, my love.”

He unzipped you slowly, slipping the dress off of you and onto the floor, leaving you in your matching bra and panties.

“Oh my God baby, you’re so gorgeous.”

You blushed as he began to kiss your breasts, burying his face in them. “Thank you, Top.”

Before you knew it, Topper had lowered his hand down and was using his fingers to skillfully rub your clit through your panties. Topper had touched you down there before, it was one of the few things you had already done together, but the anticipation that had been building in you all night made it so much more pleasurable than usual. He pleasured your clit for a couple minutes as you whimpered in pleasure, so relieved to finally be touched the way you had been craving.

“Do you like it when I touch you there, baby?”

You whined in agreement, kissing Topper again. He broke away from the kiss gently to lay you down under him, slipping off his boxers and stripping you of your bra and underwear so you were both completely naked. He locked eyes with you as he used his thumb to rub circles around your now bare clit, watching your face contort in pleasure. He knew just how sensitive your clit was and loved seeing the pleasure wash over you as he touched it.

“Oh fuck, Topper!” you moaned as he rubbed you, the bundle of nerves throbbing with amazing sensations. You felt him kiss his way slowly down from in between your breasts to finally between your legs as he continued to rub you in fast paced circles that satisfied you to no end. Topper pulled his hand away slowly, and you nearly screamed with shock and pleasure as you felt him lick your clit with the surface of his tongue. Topper had never done this to you before, but the feeling was so good. He licked stripes up and down your pussy, tasting your wetness on his tongue, feeling you throb against his mouth. He focused his attention once again onto your clitoris, licking it generously and sucking as your body shook in pleasure. You moaned his name, eyes closing and mouth falling open in sweet satisfaction.

“You taste so good, (Y/N),” Topper said, continuing to lick and suck you. He sucked hard on your clit, making you whine in pure pleasure, before sticking a finger inside of you gently. It hurt a bit at first, but as you adjusted, you began to feel a pleasure you’d never felt before. Topper curled his finger around inside of you, waiting a couple seconds before adding another, satisfied as you nearly screamed in pleasure as he hit your g spot. He continued to massage your g spot from the inside while lapping at your clit, your pussy overwhelmed at the incredible sensations. He added a third finger inside of you and started to stimulate your g spot faster and faster, making it hard for you to speak as you moaned his name.

“T-top!”

“Yes baby girl?”

“I-I’m getting close!” you yelled out.

He curled all three of his fingers up against your spongy g spot, devouring your pleasure as your clit throbbed against his lips, him sucking on it feverishly. You came against his mouth and fingers, gasping as you released with pleasure.

“Topper, that was so amazing. Thank you.” you told him as you brought yourself up from underneath his to kiss him.

“Anything for you baby girl.” He kissed your lips gently, holding your head from back and pulling you closer to him. You wrapped an arm around him and with your free hand trailed your way down his stomach all the way to his erection, wrapping your fingers around it as he moaned into your mouth. You started to massage his length and were notably impressed at the size, pumping your hand up and down as Topper’s head fell back in pleasure. You continued to jerk him off, holding him with your other arm and kissing all around his neck and collarbone, leaving hickeys on his chiseled chest. You started to feel your arousal coming back again, ready for round two. Topper’s cock twitched in pleasure in your hand, and you could feel it thicken as his cum built up inside of him. You kissed your way down his abdomen, hesitating above his member and locking eyes with him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he reassured you.

“No, Topper. I do want to.”

You kissed around his groin for a couple seconds before lightly kissing the head of his penis, Topper biting his lip and cursing in pleasure. You started to slowly take him in your mouth, trying hard not to choke. Topper groaned in ecstasy as you took him deeper and deeper, nearly deepthroating him and licking up and down his hard member. You sucked on him tightly while licking the length of him that was inside of your mouth, feeling him swell with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing s-so good!” He cried out for you, going deeper inside of your throat.

You continued to lick him gently, loving the pleasure you were giving your boyfriend. You used your hands to pleasure the bit of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth, loving every bit of his taste.

“(Y/N), baby girl, I’m getting close!”

You continued to go faster and faster on Topper’s dick until he stopped you. “No no no, babe. I want to finish inside of you… if that’s okay.”

You kissed his cheek. “More than okay. As long as you have protection.”

Topper pulled a condom out from his nightstand. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“You promise?”

“Swear on my life, baby girl.”

You were still sitting criss-crossed in Topper’s lap as he slipped the condom onto himself, his erection throbbing with the desperate need to release.

“You ready, my love?”

“Yeah, Top.” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself onto him, both of you gasping as he went inside.

“Oh, fuck, Y/N.”

You felt the small bit of pain subside inside of you as Topper gently pushed in deeper, replaced instead by a feeling of unimaginable, indescribable pleasure. Your pussy throbbed around Topper’s length, pleasuring him even more.

“Oh, Topper, yes!” you screamed at the sensation, bouncing on top of him faster and faster. Your need for orgasmic relief was becoming desperate now, and Topper was feeling the same.

“(Y/N), I’m getting so-“

You clenched your walls around him, causing Topper to almost fall over onto you as the pleasure completely overtook his body. He was a slave to it as the sensations washed over him, better than any he had ever felt by himself or with any other girl.

You screamed Topper’s name, both of your orgasms coming closer and closer. You rubbed your clit against his pelvic bone, the bundle of nerves overwhelmed with pleasure as he pushed one last push inside of you, hitting your g spot hard. Suddenly your orgasm washed over you, feeling waves of pleasure overtake your entire body as your walls clenched harder around Topper, causing him to cum as well.

Topper brought you closer, holding you in his arms. “Oh, you did so good, baby girl. That felt so good.”

“I could say the same about you, Top,” you giggled, rubbing your noses together and kissing him passionately. He pulled out of you and disposed of the condom, both of you using the bathroom before cuddling together in his bed, falling asleep naked as you played with Topper’s hair.

“Thank you for such an incredible first time, Top,” you said, kissing his forehead.

“And thank you for the best time I’ve ever had. I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Topper.”

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

This isn’t what @memes-saved-me had in mind for this post but lol (read their tags, they’re delightful)

Thinking about a younger Billy and an older Steve today ✨

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨

Billy scratched at the hair on his nape. He wanted to grow it out; really had always wanted long hair. And now, as he peered at the other sophomores trying to fluff themselves bigger to match the juniors and seniors, he just might.

Long hair was in. Mullets, rock star manes, extensions - even the opposite. Women with buzz cuts and pixie faux hawks. Pleasant little surprises in Hawkins, Indiana, and Billy might finally indulge in that.

Plenty in this town was backwards as all hell. Girls wearing white stockings like it was the fifties. Boys and girls alike clearly letting having learned hair styling from their out-of-date parents. Two girls with beehives sat in his English class.

But it was fine, because there was plenty of present-day styling, and Billy wouldn’t get any shit at home for matching his peers.

Cherry Lane. The most backwards spot in Indiana.

But that’s okay, too, because small town people need occupations. Parties.

A cool senior with teased, black hair walked right up to him and handed him a neon orange sheet of paper. He saw others holding similar invitations all day.

Party on Friday night. Address, dress code, and everything.

Caught him by surprise, that a dress code would be needed for one of these things, but the invitation just said ~casual attire~ and someone in his Advanced Biology class told him that Tina hosts the best shin digs, often with costume themes.

So he went. The late summer evening was still humid as all hell, making the party split between the massive house and the matching yard a convenient way to start a weekend.

He’d had alcohol before. Enough to know he preferred tequila drinks over vodka and gin, but the safest way to wake up the next day was to just stick to beer. No matter how bitter or sharply carbonated some of it was made.

Maybe that’s why he heard people hollering about King Steve.

Keg stands weren’t original to Hawkins, but Billy preferred them next to a bonfire on a beach. But people were really yelling for this king to do the damn thing -

“Steve, why are you even here? You graduated in May,” Tina’s voice cut through the din.

“I live down the street! You really think you’re making this much noise without me noticing? And all of you shut the hell up! I’ll do a keg stand the day one of you dip shits can actually beat my record.”

Another surprise:

Steve Harrington.

Billy’s dumb luck had him three years behind, so he couldn’t look at that face in the hallways. Sit behind that head of glossy, bouncy hair in European History. He still lived in town, apparently. Right down the street. Billy asked around and discovered he worked at the mall and attended the community college -

“Heard you been asking about me.”

Billy stared wide-eyed over his beer. He recovered quickly, but not before Steve bounced on the balls of his feet, smug. That hair was really distracting.

These people really gossip about everything.

“I didn’t think anybody actually went by a title like that.”

“I didn’t put it on my resume, that’s for sure.” Steve’s smirk grew into a smile. Christ, the guy really had that Indiana, home town handsome thing to his face.

That was dangerous. Billy’s gut told him so, the way it bruised like someone had poked it. And wanted to be poked again.

“Let’s do this properly. Steve.” He held his hand out.

It wasn’t queer to accept a handshake. “Billy,” he replied.

“Hargrove?”

“Jesus,” he scoffed involuntarily, releasing Steve’s large hand. His weight shifted over his feet. “Everybody knows everything here.”

“Not everything,” Steve said. His voice sounded...reassuring? But the way his eyes blinked...and a darkness slipped behind his eyes like a curtain. Adults liked to call it maturity. Wisdom beyond years. Billy called it ghosts. Everyone had ghosts behind their eyes. But...he had a hard time imagining what ghosts this pretty senior in suburban America would already have.

Then again, Billy knew better.

Except, as the party progressed and the weekend flowed into a new week, Billy really couldn’t imagine what made Steve slouch a little, and what made his eyes fade out of a conversation. Billy probably should have put more attention into how much he’d begun seeking the guy out.

He worked in the ice cream parlor at the mall. The uniform was equal measures ridiculous and hilarious, but his coworker was cool as hell. Robin. Not Steve’s girlfriend, even though they carpooled to work and community college.

Steve’s house proved just as luxurious as Tina’s, with a pool to boot. A house which supposedly stayed empty more often than it hosted its own family. Steve notoriously didn’t host parties, which....seemed uniquely odd.

Apart from Billy visiting the ice cream shop, it seemed Steve’s only other visitors were high school freshman. Which was weird. That’s weird, right? Then again, Billy was ball and chained to eight hours a day, five days a week to high school. There was plenty of time for Steve to be with friends his own age.

Except he showed up at the next party on Halloween.

Tina’s house boasted a surprising number of Hawkins graduated seniors, forcing the party all the way out onto the street.

Just like before, Steve manifested beside Billy, announcing himself with fingertips brushing his slowly growing, weak little mullet. “Growing that out?”

Steve’s already heavy eyelids were heavier with alcohol. Billy had his customary cup of beer, but his cheeks flushed for a different reason. He had to rub the back of his neck to make the tickle stop.

“Yeah. Maybe it’ll touch my shoulders next year.”

“Have you trimmed it?”

Billy frowned at him. He’d heard some things come out of Steve’s mouth that were endearing in a ‘bless his heart’ kind of way, and this was among them. “No, that defeats the point of making it longer.”

Steve shook his head and waved for him to follow. “Come here. I’ll trim it.”

“You’re not cutting my hair,” Billy scoffed. And followed.

Upstairs.

Billy did his best not to look around the living room; to see any eyes apart from the ones he imagined on his backside. He followed at a leisurely pace. Not eager to be with King Harrington anywhere...

The guy walked right into the closed master bedroom. Billy stood outside of it, stunned at his audacity and the fact that no one was inside it already -

“You coming?”

Billy’s not a coward -

Actually he is. But he’s an overeager sophomore with a dangerous crush even more.

Steve dug through the master bathroom’s drawers until he found a pair of scissors in their own case. “Sit on the tub.”

By tub, he meant jacuzzi edge. Billy perched. Steve gripped his shoulder to step into the tub with a comb that smelled of foreign hair product and aftershave. Billy’s nose wrinkled. “Wash that first.”

Then he jumped at the tub faucet turning on right beside his ass. Steve laughed. “Chill out. I’m washing it.”

Billy settled with a disgruntled shake of his head. “My hair is curly. You’re not supposed to brush it at all.”

“You’re in the hands of The Hair Harrington, sweetheart. Just relax.”

His shoulders sagged right underneath the weight of sweetheart.

I’m so screwed -

Of all people to show up in the doorway, Robin from Scoops showed up with an energy that insinuated more sobriety than the guy wielding scissors.

Her mouth hung open like she had come with something to say, but then she sputtered through laughter. “Oh shit. Are you consenting to this?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “If he cuts my ear, I’m beating his ass.”

“I’d appreciate more faith from you, Buckley. I cut your bangs for you.”

Billy chirped, “Really?” admittedly feeling a bit better.

Steve intercepted with the order, “Are you gonna play music or what? I’m so tired of Tina’s music.”

That’s how Billy wound up in a bathroom with college freshmen trimming his ends and styling his hair while Steve and Robin shout-sang to Whitney Houston.

It was great.

Steve curled the top of his hair so he had ringlets falling over his bold brows. Steve, who had his hands all over Billy’s head until he washed the hair down the drain and filled the tub for a bubble bath. Billy scrutinized himself with a handheld mirror until Steve wrapped his arms around him and they tumbled backward into the wet landing.

Tina was hardly pleased to find the three of them making a mess of the jacuzzi, but she sassed a quick thank you for warding off people trying to fuck in her parents’ bed. Billy didn’t have words; only laughter at Robin putting her hair into a wet mohawk and Steve piling bubbles onto his head.

Steve insisted they go back to his house afterward. “It’s November and we’re soaked. Your car will be fine. I can come back and park it in my driveway if you’re that worried.”

That wasn’t the problem.

“It’s fine that your parents are never home, but mine will only recently lifted my curfew for good behavior.”

Somehow, he convinced Steve and Robin to drive him back to his house, at the expense of letting them change at Steve’s first. Billy had his eyes on a beautiful Camaro and was just a few more months of allowance and part time jobs away from having her.

It was his first time in Steve’s house. He had to admit, he preferred Tina’s layout and decor, but he got to wander around. He saw Robin use one of the guest rooms. He saw Steve’s....incredibly boring room. And said as much.

“A prison cell has more personality.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Are you ready to go?”

It wasn’t until Billy lay in his own bed that those words tumbled through his brain. His fingertips moved through his still-styled hair. It felt better with those dead ends gone. Steve did a good job. Steve liked Whitney Houston and Blondie and a little of everything, really. Steve cared about his appearance enough to be a self-taught stylist.

Steve didn’t have a lot of furniture in his room. Clutter on the dresser and desk, sure, but all of it monochrome or neutral colors. Steve who had an old BMW, house, and surely a bank account to match, but didn’t buy anything in excess. Like he wasn’t allowed to, or something. Billy indulged every scent he got on things he wanted, but Steve didn’t.

Steve had a nailed bat in his trunk. Billy heard it rolling around on their way back to his house, and finally bent over to look under the seats and saw it.

Steve was a walking contradiction. A contradiction who smelled good but didn’t say much when Billy and Robin talked about history. Who started giving Billy free ice cream but never asked about Billy’s stepsister. Who gave Billy rides and gave him the hookup to the high-paying neighbors of Loch Nora for mowed lawns and dogs walked.

Steve helped him get his car sooner than he would’ve otherwise but didn’t ask for anything in return.

Steve, who was always available for a good time, but looked sad when left with his thoughts.

Billy didn’t take well to not being the center of attention. He’d grown up with an interrogation lamp over his head, and sought positive interaction everywhere else. He got so much of it from Steve, that the occasions where Steve bumped against him...refused him, or ignored him, or reminded Billy that he was a rinky dink sophomore lit a match in his belly. And he’d swallowed gasoline for too much of his life.

“That’s something a virgin says.”

Billy couldn’t even remember what he’d just said. He was already, instantly, seeing the glow of embers on the fringe of his vision. “Excuse me?”

Steve shrugged as he got up from his couch. “It’s whatever. It’s fine. Just showing your hand, is all.”

Billy couldn’t believe it. Steve was either the biggest idiot in Hawkins - which he knew wasn’t true considering there was a real cesspool that smoked underneath the bleachers - or he was so far in denial that Billy had a whole new reason to be pissed.

An involuntary sound left Steve when Billy came up behind him and pushed him against the wall underneath the stairs.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Billy wasn’t some cute sophomore. He stood toe to toe with Steve, barely an inch shorter. If this is what it took for Steve to realize that, fine.

To realize that Billy wasn’t some teenager scared shitless of a girls’ bra -

Steve regained his footing, and closed the distance between their mouths. It was small, soft, and brief. Rationality should have made Billy step away. Punch him, maybe. But Billy wasn’t rational. His shock held him statuesque, barely breathing while Steve moved a hand to cradle the side of his head and neck -

A sound left Billy this time, as Steve angled his mouth over Billy’s. Where he learned Billy was scared, so scared of Steve. His body dashed rationality against the wall and kissed him back tentatively, and then earnestly, just trying to keep up until Steve’s other hand framed him in. As Steve pushed against him until Billy walked backwards to have himself pressed against the wall.

He felt drunk as his hands let go of Steve’s shirt to hold onto the curvature of his ribs. He panted while Steve kissed his throat and washed Billy’s senses with his warm, sweet fragrance; his hair brushing Billy’s face and inspiring him to turn his face into Steve’s scalp. Inhale him into his lungs.

Billy didn’t know what game they were playing. But Steve outplayed him.

#are we in the present day or the 80s? who knows #harringrove #younger billy with s3+ steve #ficlet #neonponders #memes-saved-me #pondermoniums #a sprinkling of #virgin!billy #this got long lol #i wanted to write more but i like this ending #for now?#i have things I need to do lol #i'm sorry for the abrupt ending

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hyperfixatedimagines · 3 years

Text

The Moon & her Star: Ch 1

Summary: Long before Zoya, another girl from the wrong side of town fell for one of Julien’s posse. Unfortunately for the girl, she had fallen for Luna La and not noble O.

A/N: This is the first chapter in a series I will be writing. Please let me know your thoughts. I’m currently accepting requests as well. Hope you enjoy.

(Y/n) was no stranger to the excess and glamour of the upper East side’s elite. Though (y/n) didn’t belong to the exclusive club she had always had the displeasure of their company. Thanks to (y/n)’s grandmother, the head maid to the oldest of old money in New York, she had secured a full scholarship to Constance.

Freshman year was rough, (y/n) wanted so desperately to fit in with the beautiful, glamorous, and rich circle of students. (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to be on Broadway. She was going to be a star, at any cost. But freshman year- she got sidetracked trying to network herself into the right circles. The head girl, Julien, got the leading role in Heathers without even auditioning. That year (y/n) learned that money always won over talent.

Sophomore year was better…. with a noteworthy exception.

Everything seemed to be going well for (y/n). She had friends, theater rejects and scholarship kids like herself but friends nonetheless. She was steadily getting better roles, from background extra to understudy. A star on the rise.

(Y/N) had even managed to secure a leading role in the spring musical, and the only thing she had to do was first help Julien prepare for her role as Juliet. Julien didn’t understand anything about Shakespeare, and promised she’d let (y/n) have the next role. Juliet was personal to Julien, but she never revealed why. (Y/N) didn’t press further, all she needed was one role. One leading role and then no one would be able to deny that she was the true star of the theater department.

Tutoring Julien was easy enough. Julien wasn’t mean like her minions, Luna and Monet. (Y/N) and Julien’s friendship, or partnership rather, was a secret matter that (y/n) didn’t care to bring to light.

Whether it was fate or bad luck, Julien’s minion Luna found out about them and read Julien the riot act for daring to converse with such a lowly individual. Julien forced Luna into being their silent accomplice. Luna agreed, apparently knowing how important the Juliet role was. However, Luna insisted she coordinate the meetups so that no one that mattered caught the two of them together.

On a few occasions, Luna even joined the two. (Y/N) hated when Luna would watch, because she never just watched. Luna didn’t ever take criticism well, even if it wasn’t directed at her. Any time (y/n) gave Julien a piece of feedback Luna would swoop in and say the exact opposite. Of course Julien would only listen to Luna’s praise, it was the easier pill to swallow.

Fearing Julien would let her go and abandon the promise made, (Y/N) confronted Luna during the next session.

Luna La was not about to let some backwater trailer trash tell her to butt out. So what began with harsh words turned to pushing and hair pulling.

And it ended with Luna on the floor, (y/n) on top of her.

With (y/n)’s face just inches from her, Luna realized just how beautiful (y/n) was. Luna stared at (y/n)’s lips, suddenly aware of just how soft they looked.

(Y/N) hadn’t planned on falling for someone in high school, especially not at Constance, and especially not for a bitchy spoiled girl like Luna La.

But it happened.

It happened in the theater building’s basement on a normal Tuesday evening.

It happened just moments after calling Luna a jealous bitch.

It happened slowly, as (y/n)’s lips met Luna’s.

The first kiss was tender, tentative…..and tragically over just seconds after it started.

The two girls heard footsteps coming down the stairs and separated so fast they had to catch their breath. Julien entered the room, only to see Luna and (Y/N) on opposite sides in complete silence.

Luna and (Y/N) we’re terrified Julien would know the sinful act that had transpired but in her blissful ignorance Julien merely thought they’d gotten into an argument.

The session went on without a hitch. Julien was surprised that Luna hadn’t given any comments regarding (Y/N)’s feedback.

It was then that (y/n) could finally bring herself to look at Luna for the first time since their kiss.

Their eyes met, both terrified of the feelings they knew were brewing inside them. Luna excused herself, and walked out without another word.

Luna stopped showing up to Julien’s tutoring sessions.

(Y/N) would turn the opposite way anytime her path crossed Luna’s.

It went on that way for weeks.

Until opening night of Romeo and Juliet.

(Y/N) had gone backstage to wish Julien luck. To her public dismay, and to her secret joy, Luna was there.

Julien exited the dressing room for a brief second, leaving the two alone for the first time since their kiss.

(Y/N) didn’t know what to do. So she did what all terrified teens in love do, she tried to run.

But Luna reached out for her hand and stopped her.

The words came out of Luna’s mouth like vomit, uncontrollable. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“Neither have I.”

The two stared into each other’s eyes, silently begging the other to be braver.

The echo of footsteps cut their moment off too soon.

Luna let go and turned to look at herself in the mirror.

The door opened and Julien walked back in with the rest of her gang of heirs.

Surprised to still see (y/n) there, Julien addressed (y/n) simply as an extra.

(Y/N) wished Julien good luck and walked out before she lost what was left of her dignity.

Winter break came and went.

The spring musical neared and the only thing (y/n) could think of was Luna La’s peach lip gloss.

Forbidden stares in class, stolen glances as they passed each other in the halls, it was torture for them both…even if they couldn’t admit it to themselves.

Julien, true to her word, opted out of the spring musical. So auditions were to start on Friday.

(Y/N) should have been over the moon, but instead she found herself wanting to be in Luna’s glow instead.

(Y/N) couldn’t focus, and she knew she’d fail the audition if she couldn’t get her act together.

So the evening before auditions (y/n) forced herself to practice in the theater building basement in a last ditch effort to pull herself together.

“I thought I might find you down here.”

What was once a voice laced with acid had become music to (y/n)’s ears.

Luna stood at the bottom of the staircase, anxiously fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I haven’t been the same since…..” Luna stared at (y/n), unable to name their sacrilegious act.

“Since what,” (y/n) pressed.

Luna crossed the distance between them. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

(Y/N) sighed. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. I can’t even focus for my audition…. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment and I’m going to screw it all up because…”

(y/n) was unsure if she could bring herself to say it, out loud.

Luna bit her lip. “Because?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you again.”

A wave of relief, and fear, washed over Luna. She wanted (y/n), and couldn’t lie to herself about it anymore…. but there was no way in hell she’d risk social suicide to date (y/n).

“We can’t.” Luna wrapped her arms around herself.

Cruel reality had finally set in for (y/n).

“Of course, I was stupid to think a coward like you would take a chance.”

Luna’s arms fell to her sides, fists balled. “I’m not a coward. I just can’t risk my future over someone like you.”

(Y/N) straightened her back, indignant. “Someone like me?”

“You know what I mean,” Luna said with a sigh.

(Y/N) stepped closer. “I don’t, so why don’t you enlighten me.”

“Fine, you’re a broke nobody from the wrong side of the cliched tracks.” Luna mirrored (y/n), stepping closer to her.

(Y/n) had stepped in Luna’s personal space, daring Luna to challenge her.

“I’m not a nobody. I’m gonna be a star one day and I won’t have time to waste on petty, airhead heiresses like you.”

Luna grabbed the collar of (y/n)’s shirt. “Who are you calling an airhead?”

The scent on peach lip gloss hit (y/n)’s nose, and it suddenly set in just how close Luna was. Her eyes darted to Luna’s lips…tantalizing and only inches away.

“What are you going to do about it?” (Y/N) dared.

Luna tightened her grasp on (y/n)’s collar and closed the gap between them. “This,” she said just before her lips crashed onto (y/n)’s.

Sophomore year was supposed to be the year everything changed for (y/n)….and with Luna La now in her orbit it certainly would be.

#luna la x reader #gossip girl imagine #luna la #luna la imagine #gossip girl #gossip girl 2021 #gossip girl reboot

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hualianff · 3 years

Text

Thrift Shoppers

BY and PX are out shopping at a thrift store. PX waits for BY to try clothes on to show him her outfits. He sees another man lounged on the only couch near the dressing rooms. The man’s long hair is tied back into a long braid, an eyepatch on his right eye.

When BY comes out in her first several outfits, PX isn’t sure how to give an opinion. He’s not stylistic by any means and mostly wears what his mother recommends. (PX comes from a well-off household, only the luxury brands are acceptable.)

As BY goes back into the dressing room with minimal comments from PX, the man with the eyepatch speaks up.

“If you want to be invited to go shopping with your girlfriend in the future, you’re going to have to put in more effort than that,” he says.

PX blanches.

“S-she’s not my girlfriend,” he stutters. The unspoken “yet” hangs in the air.

“But you want her to be,” the stranger says knowingly.

PX deflates a bit.

“Is it that obvious?” He asks. The man clicks his tongue, giving PX a side-eye.

“To her, probably not. At most, you’re giving her three-syllable answers when she asks for your opinion—which she clearly values,” he informs idly.

“I’m not the most knowledgeable with fashion,” PX admits.

The other man now gives him a once-over. “Hmm, I wouldn’t say that. But let me help with the next one.”

The sound of the dressing door opens, but it’s the door to the left of BY’s. Out steps another man in light-wash jeans and a pink knitted sweater.

“San Lang, what do you think of this one?”

“Gege, come a bit closer,” the eye-patched man responds. PX watches with interest as it seems the men had come shopping together. “Hmm, I really like the shade of the sweater. Is it comfortable?”

“Very!” The other man answers, holding his arms out to the side and wiggling happily. PX notices how the collar scoops low enough to expose his collar bones.

Was this considered the latest style?

PX sneaks a glance at the eye-patched man and sees that though his shirt isn’t revealing, it’s incredibly tight. The sheer fabric stretches tightly upon a wide chest, leaving little to the imagination of what is underneath.

PX shakes those certain thoughts out of his head. He tears his eyes away from both men who stand quite close to each other now. The eye-patched man, who PX now seems as “San Lang,” assesses his partner’s pants.

“Can Gege turn around in a circle?”

The other man complies, slow and practiced.

“The pants look a bit tight, but Gege likes them like this, right?”

“Hmm, yes. They’re fine back here-“ the man in the sweater gestures to his backside, which impressively fills out the pants. “-but if I squat down-“

He bends his knees and squats down. Both men on the couch widen their eyes in concern as strong, thick quad muscles bulge the fabric of the pants—threatening to rip at the seams.

“Okay, ahahahah, these are definitely too tight then,” the man says as he quickly stands up. “I’ll try on the next pair.”

He shoots his partner a grateful smile before rushing back into the dressing room.

PX blinks in realization.

So this was the correct way to give one’s opinion about another’s style of clothes? Not that SL was overly critical with his words, but he served as a second pair of eyes that aided his partner to a decision about the clothes.

“Don’t overthink it. Provide compliments, ask questions, and give feedback that you think will be helpful,” SL suggests, spreading his legs as he leans back into the couch.

PX, sitting with a straight back and proper leg position, vaguely thinks he needs to relax a bit.

Before PX can respond, BY’s dressing room door opens up. She steps out in a high-waisted plaid skirt reaching mid-thigh and a white crop-top that accentuates her build nicely.

PX tries to swallow but ends up choking on his spit. Out of the corner of his eye, PX sees the other man duck his head into his hand.

“Pull it together, man,” PX tells himself.

“Pei-ge, how does this look?” BY prompts, doing a cute little twirl so the skirt flares out.

“You look…beautiful,” PX honestly says. He couldn’t find any other words besides beautiful because that’s directly where PX’s mind goes when it comes to BY. He thinks she could even make a burlap sack look great.

(Also, not @ how he complimented BY herself in the clothes instead of the clothes.)

“Thank you! I wasn’t sure if the top would fit to cover enough, but I think it looks good,” BY says enthusiastically. She peers at herself in the full-body length mirrors, then turns back to PX. “I’ll definitely get the skirt. I’m going to try on a few more tops with it.”

BY reaches for the dressing room door handle, but before she can open it, PX manages to sneak in one last comment.

“The black shirt, you know, the one with the long sleeves, I think it would look really good with that skirt,” PX says tentatively.

Except as soon as he says those words, he meekly shuts his mouth. What if BY thinks his suggestions are weird? Or he’s being too pushy?

Don’t get him wrong, PX doesn’t care about his pushiness with anyone else other than BY. With BY, PX would like to be equals. He would never want to force his opinions or make her feel like her own opinions and choices don’t matter.

However, BY’s eyes light up as she takes in PX’s comment.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll try on that one next.” She exclaims. “Thank you, Pei-ge!”

As soon as the door closes, SL gives him an approving look.

“That was better. Giving feedback shows that you’re engaged in your time together. It makes the shopping experience more enjoyable for both of you. Even if it’s not your thing,” SL says.

“Right…” PX mutters.

“And don’t worry, you’ll learn to function with that crush of yours,” SL continues. “I’ve been doing it for years.”

Meanwhile, in the dressing rooms right by each other…

“Hua Lao Shi? How was that?” BY whispers through the thin wall.

“He definitely sounded winded…you probably took his breath away with your beauty,” XL whispers back, feeling like a proud father. “Keep it up.”

BY is a sophomore at the college XL teaches at. She took XL’s beginning environmental science course in freshman year and is currently in his advanced sustainability elective. BY loves XL’s methods of teaching; she hopes to become XL’s TA next year.

BY had run into XL on the way to the dressing rooms. After telling her professor about the guy she’s shopping with and hoping to date, XL suggests they get dressing rooms beside each other. That way, he can guide her in assessing whether PX is romantically interested in her.

PX, who is in a completely different school, didn’t recognize XL or his partner. XL had texted HC about BY’s simulation beforehand. HC, content to coach this child in proper etiquette when shopping with anyone you care about, sneaks a confirming glance at XL as he walks back after another mini-catwalk.

XL and HC know these two will be just fine.

Bonus:

(HC: “Gege, I may have…a crush on you.” 🥺

XL: “San Lang, we’ve been together for eight years, married for five.”

HC: 🥺

XL: “I have a crush on you too.” 😇)

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #peiyue #hualian au #peiyue au #ban yue #pei xiu #hua cheng #xie lian #cerdrabbles #slice of life #thrift shopping

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simonsrosebud · 3 years

Text

what if kevin & dalton had been set up instead of meeting on their own?

(pls accept this as apology for not posting any kalton for MONTHS)

kevin doesn’t have a date to the banquet.

normally, it’s fine. he’s taken allison or renee to the last few, as friends. but this year, renee has something going on with gwen, their freshman dealer who is somehow only a year younger than himself. and allison got scooped up by ricky, the other freshman dealer.

“what happened to us being dates? i thought it was unspoken?”

allison shrugs and pushes her hair behind her shoulder. she has her arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe to kevin’s bedroom. “sure, but ricky has a crush on me and it’s fun playing around with it.”

kevin sends her a look. “ew, don’t look at me like that. as if, he’s like a baby to me.” kevin opens his mouth, but gets cut off. “you could get a date easily, it’s fine, we’ll help.”

and she’s right. later that afternoon she shoots a text to the team groupchat.

allison: kevin needs a date, any and all genders welcome. must be hot, good at socializing, and able to withstand his complete lack of care for them esp once he starts talking exy.

allison: i expect a nominee from each of you. good luck soldiers.

and kevin’s going to kill that girl.

the freshmen don’t answer, of course. all of their friends are freshmen, and they’re also just too scared to respond to the foxes sometimes.

aaron responds first, suggesting he just take one of the vixens. neil chimes in by saying that marissa girl is fucking social alright.

kevin doesn’t get why allison can’t just set him up with one of her friends. she has a strict rule against any of the foxes dating her non-exy friends, but it’s just an banquet.

matt comes in last, but instead of the groupchat it’s just to kevin.

matt: i have a friend named dalton. he’s in his masters to become a professor but he’s chill. he’s nice and fun too, the best guy i know

kevin knows he shouldn’t be shallow, but...

kevin: picture?

matt responds almost instantly. a picture of his friend sitting across from him at starbucks on his laptop. he looks caught off guard, like matt took the picture without warning.

is he with him right now?

kevin: maybe.

he drops his head back and rubs his eyes.

an hour later, the door opens. neil comes in first. matt is on his heels, and someone else trails in behind him. kevin sits up.

neil looks at him. in french, he says, “i wasn’t a part of this.”

kevin stands, and responds back in french. “you let him in.” neil shrugs at that, and continues down to the bedroom.

matt nods at him with a smug smile. “do you still have your psych 101 workbook? i have to take it next semester and i don’t wanna buy it.”

kevin frowns. is he not going to introduce his friend? “uh, yeah.” he turns to his desk and rummages through the drawers to pull it out.

“oh, this is dalton, by the way. he’s a friend from sophomore year.”

there it is. kevin turns back, book in hand, and nods at dalton.

dalton smiles, calm and charming, and tilts his head a bit. “he’s lying. i was his TA.”

kevin gives a smile. it’s small and faint, and mostly fake. he can’t help it. he doesn’t care for small talk like this. how old does that make dalton?

also, how did matt befriend his TA? kevin’s never spoken a word to the majority of his own.

“can’t imagine having to deal with him in class,” he says, jokingly.

matt doesn’t defend it, just shrugs and moves on. “hey, did you find a date to the banquet yet?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

kevin’s gonna kill him. he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket so he can ball his fists. “not yet, no.”

he nods, nudges dalton. “kevin’s on the exy team, too. he’s the only one without a date to the winter banquet this year,” he says. “allison, remember allison? she’s on a manhunt to find someone she approves of for him.”

dalton considers it. “that sounds like allison.”

kevin refrains from frowning. “have you met her?”

dalton has, just one time when he and matt went to a football game this fall and made a pit stop to matt’s room. it’s also when he met neil, albeit very briefly. neil had too much going on to give him the time of day.

“once, a month or so ago.”

when matt and dalton get into the car, dalton turns halfway in his seat to fully face matt. “he doesn’t have a date?” matt shakes his head. “is he into guys at all?”

matt glances at him. “yeah, he’s bisexual.”

dalton raises his eyebrows. “um, hello?! why didn’t you set him up with me?!”

matt frowns and shoots his friend a look. “why do you think we just went over?! i took psychology freshman year!”

dalton’s gonna kill him. “but you didn’t say anything about me to him.” matt rolls his eyes and waves him off, and dalton sits back in his seat.

“i know kevin, i know what i’m doing.”

he crosses his arms. “you’re the worst wingman i’ve ever met.”

but low and behold, kevin texts matt a few hours after his visit.

kevin: how do u know dalton would want to be my date to the banquet?

matt: bc he literally told me so

kevin: fine, ask him if he wants to go and i’ll take him.

when dalton climbs on the bus behind matt, it takes him only a moment to spot kevin and make his way over.

the banquet is five hours away, so the foxes and their dates are changing into their formalwear once they arrive.

dalton has joggers on, and a long sleeve henley that’s a size too big. his collarbone hangs out as the collar hangs low. he wears a soft smile, and pushes a hand back through his hair.

he looks hot.

dalton looks even more hot dressed up in his suit. he keeps at kevin’s side at first, and talks to both matt and dan from time to time. allison even pops up once to inquire about him, since he wasn’t one of her picks.

dalton and matt seem to joke around like they’re best friends. but he doesn’t ever remember matt mentioning him.

then again, if kevin had friends outside of exy, he may not introduce them to the foxes, either.

he finds his way back to kevin’s side at their table, where he’s talking to a trojan player. after a while, kevin turns to him. “you don’t have to stick by my side, if you don’t want.” he almost feels bad.

dalton shrugs and smiles. “what if i want to stick by your side?” the way that kevin reacts shows that he wasn’t expecting that, and dalton’s smile turns shy. “um, i don’t mind, really. i’d feel bad leaving you alone. i’m your date.” he takes a sip of his drink.

“okay.” it barely leaves kevin’s lips, but it’s enough to make dalton happy.

“you can even talk exy to me, if you want. i can pretend i know how it works.”

kevin’s heart seizes. “you don’t know exy?”

dalton grins. “i’ve never even seen a game.” he leans closer. “teach me?”

so he does. for the next half hour, they sit and kevin blabbers on, and dalton listens and asks questions. and then they sidetrack somehow to talking about marvel movies and what they suspect will happen in the next spiderman movie.

dalton swears to die on the grave that peter parker is a bisexual icon.

“you can take that title, instead, though.” his grin is cheeky. kevin lightly kicks his ankle and rolls his eyes, but he’s heavily amused.

“what about you? what are you?”

“gay,” he shrugs. “not much to it.”

“did you… when you told people, how did they react?”

dalton’s head tilts just a bit, and his smile starts to fade. “some people don’t like it, but it was fine for the most part.” and after a moment. “why, are you okay?”

kevin nods.

dalton doesn’t believe it. and he supposes he doesn’t know kevin enough to say that, but there’s something about the way kevin doesn’t verbally respond to it that sits weird in his head.

he props his chin in his hand. “i told my roommates i was gay the first week of freshman year. my roommate knew, but we had two suitemates, and one of them kinda stopped talking to me after that if he could help it.” he flicks his eyes up to meet kevin’s. “my uncle asks me at every family function if i’ve got a girl yet. he’s known for seven years, now,” he says. “and thanksgiving is now hosted at my house because my grandmother told my mother that i was unwelcome in hers.”

harsh.

“i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say, really. he barely has family as it is, but he can’t imagine losing them now because of something so small.

but dalton just shrugs a shoulder. “it’s okay. think about it this way, if i was still in the closet i wouldn’t be your date right now.” he cracks a smile. always smiling.

that’s when kevin notices just how close their faces are. and how he keeps glancing at dalton’s mouth. he sits back. not here.

dalton goes to the bathroom, and matt takes his seat. “how’s it going with dalton?”

kevin frowns. “fine, why? did he say something?”

matt’s face is indescribable. “no, but i see you guys getting all close and stuff. just flirt with him, dude! he obviously likes you.”

yeah right. “i-i don’t think so. he’s just here because i didn’t have a date.”

matt drops his head for a second. “kevin, after you first met him he scolded me for not setting you two up. he doesn’t watch exy, and he’s not here for the famous kevin day, just give him a chance.” kevin looks to the side, where dalton’s on his way back talking with dan at his side. they’re getting closer, so he talks fast and quiet. he stands. “don’t fuck this up, he’s hot and nice,” he whispers, and grins when dan slides into his side.

“we wanna dance. boys?” she looks expectantly at both kevin and matt. matt doesn’t have a choice, but he’d never say no anyway.

dan pulls kevin up and shoves him lightly into dalton, who catches a hand on his waist. kevin wants to squirm out of it, but not because he doesn’t like dalton, or dalton’s touch. just because the idea of liking dalton scares him a bit.

but dalton lets go when he finds his balance.

“i don’t- i can’t dance.”

“yeah right, i’ve seen you at eden’s before.”

when he was belligerently drunk.

“you don’t have to.” dalton’s voice is soft behind him.

matt slides his gaze to kevin. don’t fuck this up.

he turns. how has his life come to this? “no. i will, if you want to.”

dalton grins, lopsided and happy. “yeah?”

he hopes he doesn’t regret it. “yeah.”

so dalton takes him by the hand and leads him after matt and dan. the majority of the foxes are in the midst of the crowd as well, but they don’t pay them any mind. there’s enough people that kevin can pretend he’s at eden’s.

kevin is a terrible dancer. dalton notices it right away and laughs. when kevin gives him a look he says, “follow my lead. just sway a little. nod your head to the music,” kevin looks up at him while he dances, but catches dalton’s eyes instead.

he looks away and falls out of rhythm. “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s okay.” dalton gently takes kevin’s hands and puts them on his waist. it feels illegal. his hands feel like dead weights, he doesn’t know what to do.

is he blacking out right now?

but then dalton’s moving his hips and dancing, and laughing. he’s having fun and kevin wants to have fun too.

he moves his hands from dalton’s waist to around his neck, and dalton hesitates with his hands near kevin’s hips until kevin nods.

dalton’s fingers dip into his hips. his one finger taps along the beat of whatever song is playing, while he lightly sings along and bounces back and forth.

it’s dark on this side of the court with the exception of some colored lights darting around. the designated dancing spot.

kenna is kissing jack in the crowd.

kevin looks back to dalton, singing with a smile plastered on his face.

no one would notice.

kevin’s fingers twitch against dalton’s neck. but someone could.

he’s already out, but that doesn’t mean he’s kissed a boy in public yet.

he drops his arms. “i need some air.”

dalton let’s go, “are you okay?” but he just nods and takes off, off of the court and down the hall to the locker rooms. the foxes have their things in the away men’s locker room.

kevin sinks down on the bench. he plays with the bracelet around his wrist, courtesy of betsy in case he needs something to fidget with. opposed to panicking, that is.

that woman is never wrong.

kevin likes dalton, that’s not in question nor is it really the problem. the problem is that he doesn’t know what his problem is. if it’s what people will say when they see that he truly is into men.

being told something versus seeing proof that it’s real are two different things. he’s learned that, dealt with it more than once. the last time it was the proof of the raven’s bullying and abuse. being told that kevin and riko’s relationship isn’t what the fans fantasize it is versus then seeing proof that it isn’t anything that they thought, for example.

kevin had to deal with backlash like that for months after the raven’s investigation post championship game. him being bi isn’t the same, of course, but he doesn’t know how to predict the behaviors of his fans. he doesn’t know what they’ll support or not.

but he likes dalton.

“hey.”

one of the freshmen, eva, stands in the doorway. “stop running

you don’t have to be scared of people seeing you dance, you know.”

kevin frowns. “i don’t care about dancing.”

“yeah, but you care about dancing with your date.” they cross their arms and lean against the doorframe. “no one cares. half this team is a little gay, anyway.”

once they’ve changed for the night in the hotel room, dalton hesitates from where he stands by the bed. “are you okay? you seemed a little jittery all night, i just... i wanna make sure everything’s fine, i guess.”

kevin looks up, but doesn’t answer.

stop being so afraid of everything.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what he can say.

he sighs.

dalton’s standing there, arms crossed, concerned. kevin swallows his fears as he makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of dalton, and slides a hand behind his neck to kiss him.

dalton hums, surprised. after a moment he brings a hand to kevin’s chest, and there’s a second where kevin thinks hes going to be pushed away. instead his fingers dig into his hoodie and he pulls kevin closer.

dalton’s smiling as kevin pulls away. “about time,” he mumbles, and kisses him again.

the back of dalton’s knees hit the bed by accident, but he drops down to sit and gently pulls kevin by the strings of his hoodie.

kevin isn’t new to sex, so to speak. he’s not the most experienced, but he’s had his fun. it’s the only reason he’s confident enough to scoot dalton further back and kiss him into the mattress.

dalton wraps an ankle around the back of kevin’s knee. he curls his fingers into his hair and leans his head back when kevin kisses down his neck.

they wake up to kevin’s phone blaring. matt’s calling.

kevin only acknowledges the fact that he has his arm around dalton for a second before he checks the time.

they’re late.

wymack’s gonna kill him.

kevin sits up and shakes dalton as he answers his phone. “hey you guys are awake right? coach is pulling the bus around then we’re loading up.”

kevin’s out of the bed and throwing his shirt on, tossing dalton’s hoodie to him. “yeah, we’re coming.” dalton’s eyes go wide and that kicks him into gear as he realizes the situation.

they look a mess as they run around. they’ve really only got one pair of clothes and their suits to frantically shove into their bags. kevin pulls his sneakers on without socks and dalton’s got his on with the laces all undone as they jog down the hall.

at least they brushed their teeth.

dalton drops down to tie his shoes in the elevator, and when he stands kevin takes the liberty of carding his fingers through his hair.

he shrugs. “bed head.”

dalton can’t help but smile. “might wanna pull this up a little,” he mumbles, and that’s when kevin realizes that he’d accidentally put on dalton’s long sleeve henley. the shirt he’d been wearing last night before it got dropped to the floor.

dalton pushes the shirt up so it’s not hanging lower on kevin’s collarbone. he’s got a nice hickey that needs hiding.

“they’re never going to let this go,” kevin says.

dalton leans back against the elevator wall. “i’ve got some juice on matt if you ever need.”

kevin smiles, just a little. despite him worrying all during the banquet, last night was so good. he doesn’t want it to end as soon as they step off of the bus. he doesn’t want dalton to be a one night stand, he doesn’t think.

he takes a step forward and kisses dalton against the wall once more. he pulls away when the elevator dings.

matt smiles to himself as he watches them come around the corner. he tries to tame it, at least.

kevin and dalton are the last on the bus. kevin’s spot in the back is open, so they go back there. dalton toes off his shoes as soon as he sits down.

kevin is on the aisle side. his chest skips when dalton’s hand lands gently on his thigh. he doesn’t hate it.

it’s dinner time when they get back to a rainy palmetto. dalton had fallen asleep on kevin’s shoulder a half hour ago, and jolts awake when matt whoops and shouts to get out of his way so he can run off the bus for the bathroom.

“sorry,” dalton says quietly, scratching his head and yawning into the back of his hand.

“i didn’t mind.” kevin stretches his legs and pulls his shoes on.

dalton’s car is in the gated stadium parking lot. kevin walks him to it, head ducked because all he’s got on is dalton’s henley. no one anticipated rain.

dalton turns after unlocking his car, and sticks a ripped off folded note into kevin’s palm. kevin puts it right into his pocket for safe keeping. “so are you gonna call me after this?” dalton’s hair is falling wet over his forehead.

he nods, mouths the word yeah but nothing comes out. and dalton can’t help himself, so he takes a step forward and kisses kevin one last time, gentle as he hesitates with his fingers hovering over his cheek.

kevin’s got nothing to lose at this point, so he curls his hand alone dalton’s neck and steps closer.

he only pulls away because the team is most likely watching, and someone whistles. “i’ll call you,” he nods. he shoves his hands into his pockets and ignores the rain as he watches dalton drive out of the parking lot.

he turns towards the maserati and sees andrew shakes his head. kevin looks down at himself. he’s halfway to soaked. not ideal for such an expensive car. which leaves one option.

kevin slides into the front seat of his father’s car.

wymack can’t wipe the smug look from his face. “so-“

“no.”

85 notes · View notes

mooniefics · 3 years

Text

in the grand scheme of things [ 3 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 5.5k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warning : descriptions of alcohol and drug use

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 28 / 21 on ao3 —

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sasha 3:47 pm hey u down to party tonight?? jean told connie he could get us into another one of the azo parties again

you sighed at the sight of the notifications on your phone from its place on the passenger's seat, pensively drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. the most recent party of the most popular fraternity chapter on your campus you'd attended had been the last party you'd subjected yourself to attending—the halloween party where you'd gotten ditched out and subsequently cheated on. though you could admit that it had been fun in the moment, especially when you had caught the struggle between sasha and historia when she saw your roommate snap a picture of her kissing the standoffish sophomore that always helped her with her english lit homework, ymir, rather than the fraternity guy she was meant to be with.

the memory of that night, at least the time before you'd realized your boyfriend and his annoyingly attractive best friend were nowhere to be found, made you consider. classes did start back up next week, and the most eventful thing you'd done over the break was your quaint little family get-together for new year's eve—and your two rendezvous with zeke, meetings that you were slowly beginning to feel more and more skeptical about as time went on—and you were sure that your second semester would drown you in work just as much—if not more—than you'd had in your first semester. so as soon as you came to a stop at a red light, you picked your phone up to shoot her back a message, laughing to yourself when she replied instantly.

you 3:51 pm party on a wednesday? really?

sasha 3:51 pm come onnnn please??? i heard nikos gonna be there! ur rlly gonna make me go all alone??

so that was why she wanted to go, to see the foreign culinary major that somehow always managed to send her back to the dorm with a large plate of food and a blinding smile plastered on her face for at least the next hour. you were honestly surprised that they hadn't gotten together yet, considering how many common interests they'd shared.

a pleasant thought suddenly popped into your head, the thought that she was probably asking you because mikasa had already declined, meaning that she wouldn't be in attendance. armin was out in turkey with eren, ensuring his absence. that fact made you feel a bit less anxious about accepting sasha's invitation. you could catch up with the friends you'd been unable to see while you were off-campus—or too swamped with work to be able to reach out to—let loose one last time before you were trapped back in the monotonous cycle of working, sleeping, crying, and eating for the next couple months until spring break. your mind had been made up.

you 3:52 pm fine. i'll go as moral support. but no promises u won't have to babysit after you've had ur fun with nikolo this break has been rough for me lol

sasha 3:53 pm oh god my i loveyou so much already picking out our outfits

you chuckled to yourself, slipping your phone into the cupholder as the brake lights of the car in front of you flashed off and you eased your foot onto the gas. you made it back to the dorm relatively quickly, sasha more than elated to see you even though you didn't have any food to bring back for her. and just as her text message had read, she'd already laid out one of your nicer dresses and a set of heels that didn't absolutely kill your feet by the end of the night by your bed, digging through the closet with a pile of discarded clothes growing on the floor.

"thanks sash," you giggled, "but don't you think it's a little to be getting ready? what time's the party?"

"connie told me seven-thirty, but jean said for us to come an hour later so we aren't the only ones there." she spoke over her shoulder, huffing as she tossed another piece of clothing aside, "but i wanna look good! i'm gonna hop in the shower as soon as i find the right thing to wear."

holding out your dress before you, you frowned. it was simple, black and made of a sheer, clingy material with lace accents decorating the low neckline, thin straps that bared the entirety of your shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. it was one of your favorites, but the half-healed bruises scattered across the skin that would be exposed by it wasn't ideal.

"oh, don't forget to take a cheap coat that you don't mind forgetting. it's kinda chilly out, and i always end up losing track of mine during the night."

you let out a breath of relief, remembering that covering up a bit more would be weather appropriate. "yeah, i'll wear a long-sleeved undershirt and something light on top." perfect.

you waited until sasha had gathered her toiletries and scurried off to the nearest bathroom to change clothes, feeling your face heat up at the thought of zeke, the initial deep pigmentation having faded out over the last two days but still a very visible shade of faint red. you were fully dressed upon your roommate's return, earning an excited slew of compliments from her as she wrapped up her hair in a towel and settled down beside you to get started on her makeup.

you were actually grateful for how early she'd insisted on getting ready considering how long she'd agonized over her eyeliner, or how many times she'd applied and removed her lashes, complaining that "something was off" or "it just didn't look right". your suggested time of arrival came in no time at all, and by then sasha was more than eager to start rushing you despite the pace she'd been moving at earlier.

"hurry!! if niko brings food, i don't wanna get there by the time it's all gone!" she whined, jiggling the doorknob to your room impatiently, "for the thanksgiving party, he brought a charcuterie board with all these nice cheeses on it and it was so good, he looked so happy watching me eat it, it was so cute!"

you chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, shoving the last of your things into your clutch, zipping up your phone in the small inner pocket to insure that you didn't drop it and forget on the floor of someone's house this time. "i'm sure that even if we got there late, he'd set aside plenty of food for you."

the walk to the fraternity's designated house was made much shorter by sasha's insistence, practically dragging you along by the wrist the whole way at a near jog. you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, knowing that you would have sasha, connie, and jean at the very least, but unaware as to what you would really do besides mill around. at the halloween party, you'd been able to play the variety of drinking games that had been set out for the guests with eren and his friends, but now you weren't entirely sure who to stick to for the majority of the night.

you didn't want to bother jean or connie after they'd gotten secured you an invite, and you were sure that sasha was expecting to be able to spend some time alone with the guy she'd came to see in the first place, meaning you'd have to spend a majority of the night alone, or the unfavorable option of mingling with unfamiliar people. but you realized that was a pill you'd have to swallow as you approached the steps of the house, nearly tripping up over your feet from the speed that sasha was hauling you along at, watching her furiously knock at the door.

there were people wandering about in the yard, some on their phones, most likely waiting for their own friends to arrive, and a smoky stench of something that definitely wasn't just tobacco wafting from the group of men camped out on the porch murmuring amongst each other. you could hear the volume of the music inside the house, almost able to feel it thrumming across the floor if you focused enough.

"thomas!" she exclaimed at the sight of a younger-looking blonde boy when the door opened, whose existence you honestly had no idea about until just now, grinning so broadly it made your own cheeks hurt for her, "jean invited us!"

"oh, come right in." he beamed right back, calling loudly over his shoulder, "yo, jean, your friends are here!"

the inside of the house looked just as you expected, already crowded to max capacity, jean having to maneuver past the throng of people gathered near the front to approach the two of you. "damn, i feel like i haven't seen you in forever." he did his best to speak over the music, wrapping you up in a friendly squeeze, "glad to see you could finally make it." he turned to sasha. "niko's already in the kitchen, by the way. asked when you were coming just a few minutes ago."

sasha's face lit up with glee, turning to you, silently asking for permission to go off on her own as if you could ever deny her and her overly-eager expression. "go get 'em, tiger." you smiled, giving her a few pats on her shoulder to send her off on her way, watching her disappear into the crowd in record time.

but before apprehension of her absence could set in, you felt jean's arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "c'mon, you didn't think i was gonna ditch out and let you hang alone all night?" you giggled, turning your head up to look at him properly for the first time.

you'd first met jean in your statistics class, an unfortunate requirement for your major of choice, and initially bonded over your mutual connection through sasha. they'd been good friends in high school, and you'd just moved into a room for at least the next year with her, so you figured it'd do you well to have someone who could get you in her good graces in the event that you two didn't get along. but, thankfully, you two were just fine on your own, and sasha and jean became your first friends outside of the small group you and eren shared.

the only real conflict of interest between the two of you seemed to be your aforementioned boyfriend, and you couldn't really be upset at him for that. eren could be difficult to get along with even at the best of times, he wasn't a terrible person—at least before he'd cheated—but he wasn't exactly the most friendly either.

"is this piercing new?" you asked, reaching up to brush your thumb over the small earring hugging the shell of jean's ear.

"yeah, got it for new year's. pretty hot, right?" you snorted, earning a grin from him, "by the way, if you need to use the bathroom just tell me, the one on the main floor is fucking filthy. and also probably has no toilet paper."

"will do." you could feel the tension ebbing away in his company, at least when you ignored the annoyed glances other girls were sending your way when they noticed his arm around you, "so, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"well, we probably have every kind of alcohol known to man," he said, leaning down to speak into your ear as he began to guide you through the crowded first floor, "beer kegs are out back, junk food and all the inexpensive shit is in the kitchen." he stopped at the opening to a hallway, smile evident in his voice. "but i'm feeling pretty generous tonight, so if you want some of the good stuff we have stashed, just say the word."

"wow, such a gentleman. do you say that to every girl that comes in?" you playfully replied, thankfully far enough away from the music now that you didn't have to talk at nearly a shout.

"only the ones i like." he added a terribly over-exaggerated wink, earning another small laugh from you, "so, what'll it be? vodka, tequila, or triple sec?"

you blinked up at him. "that's it? when you said 'good stuff', i imagined a little more variety."

"beggars can't be choosers, sweetheart. and anyways we're a frat, not a restaurant, so either take your pick or go enjoy some cheap wine while you watch nikolo and sasha drool over each other."

you rolled your eyes, feigning anger in the face of his attitude, huffing out your answer. "surprise me then, frat boy."

"good answer." he said with a grin, "wait here."

he disappeared down the hall, leaving you to stare in silence at the wall before you and listen to the barely muffled sounds of the party going on just a few meters away. you opened up your clutch to fish out your phone, opening it to find your text conversation still open, catching a glimpse of connie's name. you felt a little guilty that you'd almost forgotten about his expected presence, seeing as he had messaged you and you hadn't heard anything from sasha or jean yet. you decided to shoot him a quick text letting him know that you and sasha had arrived, not surprised when he didn't respond as quickly as he usually did, knowing that he was already wrapped up in getting high out of his mind somewhere here or doing so elsewhere.

you opted to kill time tapping through your feed, making it a point to quickly scroll past any posts with armin's handle attached to them. the thought of eren having fun halfway across the world was both pleasant and disheartening at the same time. you felt stupid for still clinging on to the second thoughts about ending things the second he got back. sure, all the dots connected suspiciously well to create a picture that led to the clear conclusion of cheating, but eren wasn't good at hiding things. you remembered the time in your junior year when he'd barely been able to keep your surprise party that your friends had organized you a secret before one of them slipped up about it and exonerated him from blame, and you couldn't help but ask yourself if he was really capable of hiding such a terrible deed when he couldn't even conceal the harmless types of secrets from you.

the more confrontational part of you said that that was ages ago, that both you and him had changed so much since your time in high school, and maybe one of those changes was what made him put so much distance between the two of you these last months rather than hang around you and risk airing out his dirty laundry. you knew you should be angry with him, you would be more than right to be angry with him, but you force yourself to stop clinging to the simpler times, the days when he'd look at you like you'd put the stars in the sky and said all he ever wanted to do was be around you. you couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

"ta-da!" jean's voice interrupted your self-pity, a tall plastic cup suddenly occupying your vision, "long island iced tea for the lady. with a straw."

"christ, jean, are you trying to kill me?" you guffawed, taking the cup from him anyways, "my first real party in months and this is what you start me off with?"

"at least give it a try! after i took all that time to make it for you.." he furrowed his brows at you, only relaxing after you took a tentative sip. it was surprisingly not as strong as you thought it would be, a little on the sweeter side, but it served as a good distraction for the burn of five different alcohols sliding down your throat. "pretty good, isn't it?"

"meh. five out of ten." you snarked, giggling around the straw between your lips.

"typical," he lamented, clutching his hands over his heart, "all you and sasha ever do is use me."

"don't lie to yourself, jean. you love us."

you didn't know if it was the dim lighting casting a shadow over his face, but you could swear that you saw his cheeks flush at your assertion. "anyways.. speaking of love, you still dating that asshole? eric?"

"eren." you corrected, laughing at the error, "and, well, it's complicated."

"complicated? then i'm assuming he fucked up big time, considering he's not even here with you this time around."

you took a long sip of your drink, fiddling with the bendy part of your straw, the thought of his infidelity weighing heavily on your heart. "well he'd probably be here if he wasn't out of town, he's been planning to take his trip for a while now.."

jean shot you a displeased look. "i seriously don't know how you put up with that guy, you're selling yourself short honestly. planning on breaking up with him anytime soon?"

you cast your gaze to the floor, thankful that the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach was helping to ease the cool hollowness settling deep into your chest. "oh hush. you don't even know the whole story, jean."

"well i know enough. if you're in the market for any new guys, i'll scout out someone nice for you." you scoffed at his offer, but didn't outright deny it either, unable to help smiling along with him when he smirked and nodded over to the party in the other room, "now, come play me in beer pong, then you'll really have something to complain about."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke could confidently say that his night had been utterly unremarkable.

another quiet day spent working at the library, where he'd actually glanced at the door more times than he was willing to admit with the hope that it would be you walking in. he'd actually been quite tempted to message you, to ask what you were doing, if you had anywhere between two and three so that maybe he could see you, but he'd ultimately decided against it. he couldn't quite figure out the exact cause of his newly-found infatuation with you, but the rationality of it didn't concern him as much as it probably should've, he was simply pleased to relive the very recent memories of your encounters together and anticipate your next meeting—at least until his younger brother returned.

eren had attempted to goad a reaction out of him with an assortment of unsavory texts calling him just about every name in the book, a constant stream of questions asking why he did it, or what he'd done to deserve such a thing, and even a few desperate pleas begging him to say that it wasn't really you. of course, he'd ignored all of them, and he wondered if eren was trying to contact you as well, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see the messages even if that was the case, though still curious nonetheless.

but for the moment, he was lounging at his usual downtown bar, seated in a booth beside reiner and across from porco at their rescheduled night out, since both marcel and porco were unable to make it yesterday, the latter sulking after his noisy attempt to flag down the waitress ended in failure.

"is marcel actually gonna make it tonight?" reiner asked, plucking a stick of celery from the appetizer platter in the middle of the table.

"no clue." porco replied, sipping his mojito, "said he got caught up at work again, so either the let down text is gonna come any minute now, or he's gonna show up for an hour and then disappear."

zeke chuckled. "post-marriage life sure is tough, i guess."

"you can say that again. he's always calling me, freaking about the idea of kids and his mortgage and stuff that i didn't even think about until he complained about it, scary shit."

"you say that like you're not two years away from being his age."

porco began what was sure to be one of his smart-ass replies, but the waitress had finally approached their booth, hiding her annoyance with his friend with a forced smile as she took the orders for their entrées. zeke pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans when he felt it buzz, feeling the slightest hint of disappointment by the fact that it wasn't you.

"who is it? your new girlfriend?" reiner grumbled, smirking when porco shot up in his seat.

"girlfriend?!" he exclaimed far too loudly.

"yup. zeke didn't tell you he's dating a high-schooler?"

so much for "your business", zeke thought to himself. "oh, fuck off. she's in college." he frowned at his roommate, only met with another tired expression of disappointment.

"just barely." reiner turned back to the man across the table, "it's one of his brother's ex-girlfriends too."

porco stared at him incredulously, eyes wide and judgmental, falling back against the cushion of the seat with a low whistle. "shit zeke.. that's kinda fucked up, don't you think?" he seemed uncomfortable by the unexpected revelation, "you're almost thirty and you're screwing around with someone who's probably not even twenty? is this an afraid-of-getting-old thing? mid-life crisis??"

"she's an adult, she can make her own choices." zeke didn't appreciate the sudden scrutiny, finishing off his old fashioned in the hopes that the bourbon would wash away the self-conscious feeling settling unpleasantly in his gut, "not my fault that her choice happens to be wanting to be around me rather than the guys her age."

"what ever happened to you and pieck? she's hot—"

"and actually over the legal drinking age."

both porco and zeke pointedly ignored reiner's interaction as the former continued. "—i thought it was working out between you two.. what happened?"

zeke shrugged. "just wasn't the right fit for me. but you liked her, didn't you? before we had our thing." he looked up at his friend, forcing a casual grin, "maybe you could give that shot now."

he felt a bit more at ease seeing porco's ears and cheeks flush red, now fiddling with the lime garnish on the rim of his glass. "we still talk here and there.. i don't really know much about what she's up to these days."

before he could answer with more words of encouragement that detracted from the previous, morally-incriminating topic, his phone began to vibrate, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name on the screen. "sorry, gotta take this."

he tugged on his jacket and slid out of the booth, ignoring reiner's chastising glance and porco's bewildered look, passing the waitress who was now carrying a platter with their food and refills on his way out. the cool night breeze was refreshing in comparison to the awkward, almost cramped atmosphere that had developed over their discussion, his breath coming is foggy puffs in the chilled, january air as he pressed the answer button. immediately upon raising the phone to his ear, he was met with a blurred assortment of background noise, able to discern the muffled sound of music and the sound of footsteps outside of whatever room you were in.

"hello?"

"oh, zeke, you answered!!" he could hear in your voice that you were clearly intoxicated, much more than you had been when you were at his house, words stringing together and ending syllables unnecessarily drawn out.

he felt uncharacteristically worried at the realization that you were at a party, one that sounded quite large and crowded, most likely crawling with unsavory individuals that he knew prowled around those sorts of events when he himself was in college. "are you alright? where are you right now? do you need me to pick you up?"

zeke was already digging around in his coat pocket to check if he had his keys, more than prepared to take off without his meal or saying goodbye to his friends inside. "'m at a party on campus, 's okay. in the bathroom. just thinking."

zeke didn't feel eased at all at the sound of loud knocking coming from somewhere, hearing you becoming distant for a moment as you presumably pulled the phone away from your ear to call out that the bathroom was occupied. there was shuffling on the other line, then silence for a short moment. "can i ask you something?"

zeke frowned. the idea of not being able to know who was monitoring you in this state wasn't sitting well with him. "go ahead."

"but don't call me stupid, ok? i already know it's a stupid question, but i still wanna ask it."

"there's no such thing as stupid questions." he assured you, ignoring the buzz of a text notification, most likely porco or reiner telling him to come back in before the burger he ordered got cold.

"do i really have to break up with eren?"

zeke felt something odd flicker in his chest, that unfamiliar feeling he'd felt when he caught you staring at you and his brother's one-sided chat logs, but yet the affirmative answer he thought he would be able to give with no problem sat on the tip of his tongue, undelivered. he thought back to that face reiner had made when he told him who you were, and porco's hesitant words trying to rationalize his actions but ultimately failing to do so.

zeke didn't understand why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. this was meant to be a simple ordeal, one where he got what he needed to teach eren a lesson and moved on with his life. but now here he was, concerned about your whereabouts, focusing hard enough on your muddled words that he managed to catch the wobble in your voice that betrayed your own state of emotional unrest. he realized a moment too late that he hadn't said anything, hearing a small sniffle on your end before we began speaking.

"god, i can't believe i said that out loud, you must really think i'm dumb r'now, but.. i just can't let go of what we had." he was sure that you were crying now. "i keep thinking about what you said, an' you're right. he's been an ass to me, he practically ignored me for, like, three months, probably fuckin' cheated on me with his hot best friend, so i can't understand why i just wanna keep trying to fix things... and its so confusing 'cause everyone just keeps telling me to enjoy myself an' have fun, but i have no idea what i even want anymore, and i don't even know what we are right now and i can't fuckin' believe i cheated on my boyfriend with his fuckin' older brother and i don't know what i'd ever do if he found out."

by the end of it, you were letting out small, hiccuped sobs, breath fast and uneven just as it had been the night he'd invited you over. he honestly didn't know what to say, listening to you cry, staring at the steam of his breath as it dissipated out into the night. you were a good person, someone who was undeserving of such treatment from either him or eren, but it was simply an unfortunate coincidence that you had been caught in the fray.

he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, preparing to deliver an affirmation similar to the one he'd given you a few days ago when you first laid all your relationship troubles out on the table, but there was a rapid, more insistent knocking at the bathroom door on your end. he could hear a female voice calling out your name, and the jiggling of the door knob.

"hold on," you paused, sniffling, "it's my roommate."

you steadied yourself enough to say that, tossing the phone somewhere before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. "there you are!! are you seriously wasted already? it's only, like, eleven?! why are you crying???" your roommate sounded tipsy, but nowhere near as intoxicated as you currently were, which eased zeke's initial worry, "jean! can you c'mere for a sec! wait, were you calling someone?"

there was a brief pause, and zeke could practically see your tiny nod and teary eyes in his head, then heels clicking over tile and the sound of the phone being lifted, followed by a hurried, "hey, this is her roommate! she's fine, gotta go!"

then silence, just him and the faint noise coming from inside the bar behind him. he didn't know what to think. from the sounds of it, it seemed like your friends were taking care of you for the time being, friends who names he vaguely remembered you speaking of when you'd been detailing your time at the halloween party—people that were unfamiliar to him, people he wasn't sure that he could trust. and a small part of him, a tiny voice at the back of his head, scoffed at his flimsy mask of worry that barely hid the true emotion, his possessive nature, driving his desire to go pick you up and bring you back to the apartment to take care of so you'd have to be there with him another morning with your thankful gazes and blunt, half-awake words.

he knew he was in no place to begin laying judgement at these unknown people in your life considering what he'd done, but it was an innate sort of feeling, the thought that always clouded his mind when he laid eyes on people that were younger than him, that he knew more than them, that somehow he would always be above them in an invisible hierarchy. that same feeling that he felt when he found himself looking down at you.

"zeke?" a warm, friendly voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes turning up from the ground to find a tired-looking marcel standing before him, "what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"smoke break." the lie slipped between his lips before he even thought of the fact that there was no cigarette between his fingers, no scent of smoke in the air or clinging to his clothes, "glad you could make it, everyone's inside. pretty sure porco already ordered you something."

but instead of immediately heading inside for zeke to come after him, marcel stood for a moment, lips drawing back and eyebrows knitting into a concerned expression. "is everything okay?"

zeke thought for a moment, giving a non-committal shrug in response.

"still having family troubles?"

despite having been quite fixated on his negative feelings revolving his own younger brother for the last few days, zeke had almost pushed out a majority of the sordid details of the entire situation out of his head, which now seemed to all flood back with such a short, simple question.

"you could say that." zeke scratched the back of his neck, now wishing he'd actually had a cigarette to take his mind off of all these turbulent thoughts, "all the arguing and shit subsided already, but..."

"anything from your dad?" marcel's voice was almost tentative asking that, frowning when zeke said nothing, "sorry.. didn't mean to be insensitive about it."

"it's not insensitive. just," he swallowed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching out to push open the bar door, a silent, less embarrassing way to signal that he no longer wanted to talk about it anymore, "just kind of fresh. that's all."

they both stood in silence for a moment, marcel's eyes wandering his face, features expressing a clear concern, but thankfully, he didn't push the issue any further, simply following him inside like zeke wished he would've done minutes earlier to save him the trouble, proceeding to the booth housing their friends. the conversation didn't wander back to the topic of him and his morally dubious relations nor his current familial situation, much to his relief, making it much easier for him to just allow the conversation to flow around him, finding himself not having much of an appetite or desire to speak much with so much on his mind.

for a moment, zeke wondered to himself if this was a punishment from the universe, feeling so downtrodden on what was usually one of his more enjoyable nights in the week. not to say that they were always amazing to be around, but spending time with porco, reiner, marcel, and sometimes bertholdt made up most of the meaningful social interactions he had, and to have lost out on it today of all days just seemed like some odd form of karmic justice as a result of him behaving so selfishly.

but he held out for the rest of the evening anyways, going through more drinks that he probably should've, finding easier to tune in to porco and reiner's usual bickering, marcel's attempts to quell them, the ambient sound of bustling waiters and clinking glasses and plates to bury down any thought of you or his family or what was to come at the end of the week, the consequences with much more magnitude in his life than an just an unpleasant night out.

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#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager x you #snk zeke #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x reader smut #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x reader smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #m.nsfw

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