#why are you scheduling 6 interviews on one day

[starssystem]

Mondays really be something else, huh gang?

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡

[star-anise]

are we talking about broke therapists yet?

I've been out of things for a couple of years now, which is why I'm willing to talk about it, and maybe the pandemic has helped things a little, but holy shit the counselling and psychotherapy field is not equipped to help its practitioners in the gig economy.

Of all my interests and talents, I pursued a degree in psychology because being a therapist is supposed to be a safe, stable, well-paid job. Every therapist I met who was registered before 2008 worked and lived under that assumption. And oh boy are all the fee structures--registration, supervision, continuing education, conferences--set up for that scenario.

After getting my Master's, I struggled like hell to get a job. It was especially bad because to get my license, I needed a supervisor to take me on. To take me on, most supervisors wanted me to already have a caseload and client base. To get a caseload and client base, I needed a job.

Friends: Every single job I heard back on wanted me to have my license before I could even land an interview.

Professors and career advisors and professional development specialists all advised me very earnestly to just keep cold-calling people on the supervision list, and it began to feel a lot like my parents' friends telling me to hit the bricks and hand out resumes. That's what worked for them, right?

I finally got a supervisor who agreed to take me on, and I'd be able to use her clinic for advertising and workspace, and we were doing the paperwork to send in with my registration, when she called me up and said, "Is this job going to be your only source of income? If you're trying to depend on getting clients and building your practice for your basic needs, this is not going to work out. This has to be something you're doing on top of a basic salary. Okay, so you're not working anywhere else right now? I'm sorry, I can't move forward with this."

Even once I landed a supervisor and a job building my own private practice, I struggled. I have ADHD and am not great at self-promotion, so trying to do all my own advertising, scheduling, bookkeeping, billing, and records management (on top of counselling) was an enormous strain. One my bosses, supervisors, and other senior professionals watched with a slightly critical eye, but consoled me about because in their early days, their clinics had had business managers, receptionists, filing clerks, and accountants, and getting used to doing everything online yourself was a bit of a learning curve, wasn't it?

I counted my pennies very carefully, because I had to pay my supervisor roughly $180 for their services every 6 hours of in-person counselling I did. This meant that to break even I had to charge my clients an average of about $30 (plus room rental and service fees) an hour--and my clients, being people with complex trauma, were frequently poor, disabled, unemployed, and had no health benefits, so even $10 or $20 a session was a lot for them.

Maybe it would have been easier if I could have taken some of those nice comfortable organization positions where they find clients and funding for you and you work 40 hours a week and get benefits and a pension, but I had to be disabled into the bargain, so working 40 hours a week just isn't possible for me. I start passing out from stress and exhaustion. Older colleagues gave me serious-faced advice about approaching my employer and asking them for some flexibility and accommodation in my schedule, and I tried to explain across the gap between us that employers simply did not hire me if I made the slightest noise about the workload. They weren't going to invest in me as a person; they were hiring 40 units of work a week, and if I wouldn't do it there were a dozen applicants after me who would.

At one point I broke down enough to email my licensing body because the Annual General Meeting/Professional Development Conference was coming up, and I wanted to attend, but I could not produce $500 to do it with. Was there some kind of way I could attend anyway? I felt ashamed to have to ask, and then absolutely mortified when the response came from the organization president, who needed to personally sign off on me being too poor to attend the single most important event in my profession's calendar year.

I honestly felt so ashamed all the time at how I was apparently failing to be a successful therapist, failing to be rich and successful, and every time I mentioned it around mentors and bosses, I could feel myself shrinking from a person to a problem to be solved. My closest therapist-friends and I have reflected on how much more difficult, poorly-paid and underworked, our various career starts have been than we were ever warned about. About the classmates and coworkers who couldn't get disability exceptions when they fell behind in their registration requirements, or burned out and left the field, or dropped their registrations and took up as life coaches, or moved their whole family somewhere exceptionally remote or rural because it was the only good job available, or worked for some godforsaken app skirting the bounds of malpractice like BetterHelp.

I like those conversations, because I feel less like an absolute fuck-up in them. There's less "Hey Lis, you were so talented in grad school, I really admired you, what are you doing now?" "Oh, I, uh... am professionally disabled, so I get government benefits, and I... sell embroidery patterns on Etsy now."

My own therapist kept asking if and when I felt like going back to being a counsellor, and I finally told him: I don't, actually. I don't want to go back and do it like I was doing it before. It was a profession I loved to the depths of my soul, and it profoundly did not love me back. I can't even imagine what would have to change, in me or it, to make it have a space in it that could fit me.

All of which I was way too scared to admit to at the time, because the more I let people know I was struggling, the more they hinted that maybe I just wasn't in a place in my life where this was a job I could do, and I needed to take a little break and wait to come back until money and disability just weren't issues for me anymore.

Eventually my cups of doubt and exhaustion did overflow, and I quit. I'm here now, living a much different life. And at the very least, all my years of helping people in bad life situations set me up perfectly for my own. I already knew what form to fill out for financial assistance, which student clinics to access for mental health support, and which government agency would, if pressed, cough out pharmacy coverage for the genuinely destitute. It gave me that much.

I hope this is just me being in extraordinary circumstances, sitting at the intersections of a few different shitty life situations that most people skip right past. Because it's on one level comforting, but another deeply infuriating, if I'm not, and I've just missed it or we've just all been too afraid to admit it to each other.

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an Adult pt 3

Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Word Count: 3.3k

Description: R gets a girlfriend

It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.

After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. Lucy helped you figure out meals if you asked for them. Irene helped you stock and restock your pantry and cupboards throughout your house when you were stuck on what to keep multiple or spares of. Marta helped out with your schedule if you felt a little overwhelmed. They felt like they were checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.

And then you got a girlfriend.

Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.

Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.

“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.

“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.

“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.

“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”

“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.

“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.

You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.

[Initial]💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x

L💚: By rselves? Like a date???

[Initial]💙❤️: Yes x

[Initial]💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??

L💚: Yes

L💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?

[Initial]💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3

L💚: Can’t wait 😁

The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.

You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.

“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,

“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.

A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!

“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed

“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.

“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.

[Initial]💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......

L💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......

After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.

“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.

“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.

“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.

“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.

“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.

Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.

“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.

“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.

“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.

“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.

“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.

“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.

“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.

“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.

“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.

[Initial]💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x

[Initial]💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x

L💚: ahahahahaha

L💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?

[Initial]💙❤️: Whichever u want x

[Initial]💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x

[Initial]💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey

[Initial]💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x

L💚: Tell em

L💚: Can I tell my team?

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx

L💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!

L💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢

[Initial]💙❤️: ugh RUDE.

[Initial]💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x

L💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe

[Initial]💙❤️: so kind of u x

[Initial]💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x

“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.

“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”

“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.

“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.

You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.

“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.

“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.

You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.

“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.

“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.

“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.

“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.

“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked

“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.

“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.

“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.

“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.

“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.

“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”

“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.

“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”

“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.

You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.

“Does she treat you well?”

“Sí,” you answered honestly.

“Do you treat her well?”

“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena

“Can we meet her?”

“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.

“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.

“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.

“When is she coming to Barcelona?”

“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”

“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.

[Initial]💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x

L💚: WHY???

L💚: WHAT DID U DO????

[Initial]💙❤️: Alexia knows

[Initial]💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x

[Initial]💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x

L💚: I am dead

L💚: I am going to die

L💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????

[Initial]💙❤️: She wont kill u

[Initial]💙❤️: I wont let her xxx

[Initial]💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

[fanficsformyfaves]

I Don't Wanna Live Forever Pt.2

Rhea Ripley x Fem Prostitute!Reader (Pt.1)

WARNING: ANGST, Depressive Episode, Harassment, Bar Fight, Violence, Confrontation, Confessions, Hurt to Comfort

PREFACE: Reader was Rhea's favorite girl to call on a Saturday night, but little did she know that the wrestler was falling harder and harder with each visit

A/N: Special Appearance by The Judgment Day!

Shed a couple tears over this, but it's cool

The radio silence was unbearable. It had been weeks and with each day that passed, I began to regret what I did more and more. If I'd truly done the right thing, why didn't it feel like it? Why did it feel like I'd just lost a part of myself losing her? I had only myself to blame, so it was unfair of me to be angry at her, but I was.

I was angry at the longing stares and the gentle caresses against my bare skin. I was angry at the inside jokes and little secrets that were shared beneath her sheets. I was angry at all the nights we spent in each others arms. All the things that got me in this mess in the first place, but most of all...I was angry at myself.

Angry that I was too much of a coward to tell her that her feelings were in fact reciprocated.

With where my head was at and how devasting everything was, I decided to completely resign from the service that was using me. In no world could I imagine continuing to be in other peoples beds, when all I wanted was to be in hers. Out of every low point I'd hit before, this was by far the worst one.

I could barely get out of bed without tears immediately streaming down my face. Days felt empty and nights felt suffocating like my body knew something was missing. Even simple tasks like eating and breathing had now become burdensome.

I didn't know whether or not I'd make it out of this one, but by some miracle, I was met with a chance at starting over.

An old friend of mine that used to work with me in the same service recently reached out upon hearing about my departure from one of the other girls. I found out, shortly after leaving, that she got a job at a bar closer to the city and that they were hiring new drink-runners. The pay was decent and I needed something to keep me busy, so of course, I said yes to being interviewed.

I sent in my resume, went in on Monday and the next morning, I got a call saying I was hired, which brings us to right now.

The night started of fine with me just serving the drinks and food, when I heard the bell signaling someone came in. It was a group of obnoxiously loud men that immediately had me and my friend rolling our eyes. I picked up some menus and reluctantly headed over to the table they chose.

"Welcome, what can I get started for you guys?", I say,

Placing down the laminated papers.

"No fucking way!", I heard one of them exclaim,

And when I turn to see who it was, my heart dropped. It was a guy that I previously serviced.

"Yes?", I asked,

Playing clueless.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you don't recognize me...or the fun little night we had"

I could tell by the way he slurred his words that he was incredibly drunk. His group immediately began snickering and raking their eyes up and down my body.

"I'm sorry, sir. You must be thinking of someone else"

"Nah, I'd recognize those tits anywhere", he declared,

Causing 'oohs' to echo from the table.

I held my composure and took a deep breath through my nose.

"Excuse me, gentlemen", I said,

Walking away and heading back to the bar.

"What's up?", my friend asked,

Seeing the irritated expression on my face.

"Old clients at table 6"

"Ugh, again? Do they not have jobs? They're here every night"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, you haven't been scheduled past 8 yet, so you were lucky enough not to run into them", she explained,

"Well, I guess I'm shit outta luck now", I joked.

And as if the universe couldn't have had worse timing, another group walks in and the sinking feeling in my chest had now become a burning sting.

"Wait, isn't that-"

Before my friend could get her words out, I immediately hid in the kitchen. I hear her calling out to me as I left, but didn't bother turning back to look.

Out of any place on earth and out of any bar, she just had to show up at the one that I work at? This had to have been some sick joke. What was I meant to do now? It's not like I could just leave and risk getting in trouble on my second week.

I stayed still a few minutes to recollect myself and once I was successful, I take in one last deep breath, before heading back out.

"You've got this", my friend reassured,

Handing me four menus.

I made my way towards her table and the closer I got, the harder it became for the both of us to ignore the other's gaze.

"Welcome, what can I get started for you guys?", I say,

Putting on my best customer service voice.

"I'll take chicken tenders", the one with the mullet answered,

"We both want steaks, medium rare", the tallest added on,

As I jotted down their orders.

"Alright and...for you, miss?", I asked,

The hesitance in my voice giving my nerves away.

"Just some gin for now", she answered,

Avoiding eye contact.

As painful as it was, I decided against asking any further questions at the risk of making things any more uncomfortable.

"Those should be right out", I nod my head,

Walking off, but as I was headed towards the serving hatch to put the orders in, I felt a hand grab my wrist.

"What time do you get off?", the asshole from earlier questioned,

Causing me to rip my arm away.

"Excuse you", I scolded,

Going to turn away, when he grabbed me by the arm next. I could feel the panic start to set in and my eyes start to water.

"Get off, seriously", my words trembled,

"Oh, what? Does the slut think she's too good for m-", his sentence was cut short by a tissue holder hitting the back of his head,

Causing him to fall over.

"She said get off", Rhea warned through gritted teeth,

"Handle this, I'm taking her home", she ordered her friends,

They all turn to each other smirking, before sauntering over to the table full of the guy's friends. They all immediately took off, leaving him behind to fend for himself.

"Come on", she urged,

"My shift isn't over", I shakily muttered,

She sighed, taking out her wallet.

"Dom, make sure to let the manager knows what happened and that (Y/N) went home", she instructed,

Pulling out a couple hundreds, before dropping them on the table.

"You got it, mami", he said,

Picking up the guy and dragging him outside with the help of the other two men.

"Wait, what are they-"

"Doesn't matter. Come on", she throws an arm over my shoulder,

Leading me outside and helping me into her car. The last thing I saw before driving off was the three men completely pummeling the guy into a pulp. Not to say he didn't deserve it, but, I still couldn't help but feel uneasy.

The car ride wasn't much help either. Besides the quite hum that came from the engine and the passing cars, it was mostly silent. She must've noticed, as her hand gently gripped my knee in an attempt to calm me down.

"Are you hurt?", she finally spoke,

"My arm's sore", I answered hesitantly,

Causing her to let out a shaky exhale through her nose.

He did yank me pretty hard, so I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up to a handprint on me.

"We're almost at mine", she lets me know.

As if I didn't already recognize the street we were on. I mean I'd been down this road too many times not to.

"We're here"

She pulls into her driveway and gets out to open my door for me. She then leads me into the house, urging me to take a seat on the sofa.

"I'll get an icebag. Wait, here"

"It's fine-"

Before I could object, she had already left the living room.

The tension was so apparent, I felt it in my bones. She was cold and guarded, but I had no right to fault her for it. I was the one who ended things and now, I had to lay in the bed I made.

She returns with the ice and lifts my sleeve to press it against the bruise, causing me to wince at the ache.

"Who was that guy, anyways?", she questioned,

"An old client. I don't work there anymore though"

For the first time this whole evening, her eyes finally met mine.

"What?"

"I quit last month. I couldn't do it anymore", I admitted,

As her gaze softened.

"Why?"

"It's not important", I tried to brush off,

"(Y/N)"

"It doesn't matter-"

"(Y/N)", she called sternly,

Causing tears to prick at my eyes.

"Did someone hurt you?"

"No-"

"Then what?"

What was I meant to say? That I was the cause of my own hurting? That I left the only life I'd known because someone showed me that I deserved better than that? That that person was her?

"Then...what?", she pressed further.

With a single tear rolling down my cheek, I finally confessed.

"Because of you", my voice waivered.

Her eyes widened, as she slowly put the icepack down.

"Since the last time we spoke, I've been going through the worst time"

A tear rolled down my cheek and my entire body began to chill. Her brows met in a sadness that was too deep to describe.

“I thought I could get over it, but I couldn’t have been more wrong and it didn’t hit me till I left your house”

“Then why did you?”

“I…”

It was as if all the words were caught in my throat with no way out.

What was I meant to say? What could I say? Anything I thought of wouldn’t excuse the way I’d walked out on her. I would be lucky if she could’ve even look me in the eyes again, much less forgive me.

“I was a coward”

She shakes her head, averting her gaze down to her lap.

“So much so that it made me lose you”

I hear a sigh and I couldn’t decipher whether she was disappointed or annoyed.

“I should’ve stayed. I should’ve given this a fighting chance. It was unfair, cruel and undeserved. You were the first person to show me kindness and it scared me. I didn't know how to receive that kind of care and I know that isn't an excuse, but that was the reason and I can't tell you how sorry I am"

The silence was the most painful part. It sent knives straight through my chest and there was nothing I could do to alleviate that burn.

“I understand if you want me to leave. I deserve that”, I sobbed,

Picking at the lose thread on my uniform, when she takes my hand.

“I don’t want that”, she finally spoke,

"You leaving did hurt me and it was something that I thought I'd be angry for, but...I wasn't. I was sad. Sad because I thought you didn't care for me the way I cared for you. You were my favorite part of every single waking moment. Your laugh, your smile, the way you talk, the heart you have, I've never seen anything like it"

I felt every piece of me break with each word.

"This whole time, that's all I could think about. That you didn't feel the same", she continued,

Gathering her own tears now.

"Rhea", I muttered,

Taking her face into my hands.

"You don't understand how much I love you"

[chukys-mouthguard]

Kinda Tempting

Genre: a big mixed bag of all the things

Word count: 4.4k

Featuring: Mat Barzal x female reader x Matthew Rempe

Warnings: cheating, secret relationship

Summary: you recently left your position as the media manager for the Islanders behind, along with your boyfriend Mat Barzal, for a position with the Rangers. And their new rookie Matthew Rempe causes quite the stir both on the ice and off

Author’s note: I rewrote this like 4 times…hopefully it’s good. This will be a little series, so things should pick up. I feel like establishing background and stuff is always hard. Hopefully you all like this? And I’m sorry I literally picked two guys named Matt, could I have made that any harder on me and you lol

If someone told you that you’d be working in the NHL while also dating one of the hottest stars in the league, both in skill and looks, you would’ve never believed them. But here you were. The head of the media team department for one of the biggest teams in sports, and also the girlfriend of none other than Mat Barzal. 

The two of you met during your first season leading the media department for the New York Islanders, and you made it your mission to get him to not hate doing the stupid challenge videos and dumb quizzes that every team made their players do. And by the end of that season he’d become a pro, eventually fessing up that he only enjoyed seeing you pop up with your iphone because he knew it meant an excuse to see you.

Now it certainly wasn’t a walk in the park getting the stamp of approval from the organization, but Mat reassured you he wouldn’t let you get fired over it. And they eventually came around to the idea, only for you to get a job offer from their rival New York Rangers 2 seasons later. Despite the move from Elmont to NYC only making your distance roughly 2 hours depending on the day, it had proven to be difficult on the two of you. Your schedules never the same, not even enough for phone calls or facetimes. Sometimes going months without seeing one another. 

Thoughts plaguing your mind on whether or not he still loved you, if he’d been seeing other girls behind your back. When you look as good as Mat Barzal it’s hard to imagine him not having tons of girls throwing themselves at him. You didn’t want to think of the worst, but you saw how other guys in the league made things work with their girlfriends, so why couldn’t he do the same with you. 

Luckily today was the stadium series game between the New York Islanders and the Rangers, meaning an opportunity to finally get to see your boyfriend after almost two months. And to say it was a big game was an understatement, you just hoped Mat would actually make time to see you, and reassure you that things were good between the two of you. 

You arrived to MetLife stadium a few hours early, the media grind keeping you on almost the same schedule as the players. Your first assignment of the day was documenting the debut of Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe, though looking at this guy you’d never guess he was a rookie. He’s 6 foot 8, literally towering over every guy on the ice, and probably off of it too. 

After he finished up a few interviews, you saw him making his way past the crowd of reporters, looking a bit lost as he scanned the faces around. You assumed looking for you since he’d be told ahead of time he had media content to film today. 

“You must be Matthew Rempe.” You walked up to greet him and he smiled down at you, “How’d you know?” Eyeing him up and down you rolled your eyes as if he was someone easy to miss or not notice. “Let’s see, all the headlines talking about a 6 foot rookie debuting for the Rangers, I’d say that was the giveaway.” The two of you laughed as you started down the hall, walking towards the Rangers tunnel that led to the ice. “I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is y/n. I’m the media manager for the Rangers, and unfortunately for you, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me this season.” 

The rookie simply smiling down at you as you two walked together, “something tells me I might be okay with that.” Fighting the blush that threatened to grace your cheeks, you continued on explaining what it is he’d be filming. He listed to you explain things somewhat, but then he sort of zoned out. Paying too much attention to your smile when you laughed, the excitement in your voice when you talked about your job. Not to mention he was taken aback at how beautiful you were. Your hair failing perfectly over your shoulders beneath your Rangers beanie. He was captivated by you, but tried to keep his cool. 

“Okay, so we are gonna do just a little introduction. Whatever you feel like saying, introduce yourself, tell us where we are, all that fun stuff.” Rempe quickly snapping back to reality, stopping at where the tunnel began to open up to reveal the stadium. He simply followed your lead, waiting as you took out your phone and cued him to start whenever he was ready. 

“Hey Rangers fans, it’s Matt Rempe here. Getting ready to make my debut at the Stadium Series here at MetLife. It’s time to bang some bodies and bring home a win!” He pumped his fists as he emphasized his final words for the camera, you signaling that was a great take. Next, moving over to the bench to do a couple sit down questions. 

“Perfect, you are really a natural Matthew. I’m impressed! It took some of the other guys years to get comfortable with doing all the media stuff.” He smiled as he stood up, once again towering over you. “Well you made it really easy, made me feel comfortable and all the nerves went out the window.” 

“Well good! I’m gonna go edit this now and we will probably have it posted within an hour, just in case you wanted to see it.” “Oh perfect,” Matthew began reaching into his pocket before pulling out his phone, “can you text me once it’s up?” You took his phone, not thinking anything of it, you had plenty of his teammates phone numbers. It becoming a thing for guys to want to send embarrassing clips of each other for their group chats. “Sure thing, there you go! Shoot me a text so I have your number and I’ll get you the link as soon as it’s up.” 

You smiled as the two of you headed up the tunnel, some of the islanders players making their way out to see the ice. The second you saw your boyfriend’s face walking toward you, all of your professional game day demeanor went out the window and you took off running.

As you took off up the tunnel, Matthew was a bit confused, not realizing what was going on, he continued walking as his eyes followed you. Soon seeing you jump into the arms of Mat Barzal from the Islanders. His heart sunk a bit, of course she’s not single, he sighed to himself as he pulled out his phone. Trying to not seem so awkward when he walked past the two of you kissing. Flashing a smile when you mentioned that you’d text him after you finished editing the things you two just filmed. 

Why was he so shocked to see a beautiful girl like you dating someone? Maybe it was shocking that you were dating one of the top guys in the league, who also happens to be on one of the Rangers rival teams. He’d felt a bit foolish for thinking that a girl like you would not only be single, but ever give him, a rookie, the time of day like that. Heading into the locker room, he threw on his headphones and started to get zoned in for the game. 

 It had been about a month since you’d seen Mat, and you couldn’t contain your excitement. He smiled at you as he braced for your hug, cutting it short before giving you a quick kiss. “Mat, come on, it’s been almost two months. Aren’t you happy to see me?” He nodded to his teammates to walk without him as he stayed back, “yeah of course I am, but I’m also trying to get focused. I’m sorry I’m not jumping up and down like you.” His laugh caught you off guard, as almost if he was making fun of how excited you were to see him. 

“Sorry for being happy to see my boyfriend. Well go get focused, I don’t wanna be a distraction to you” Dropping his hands you’d pushed past him, doing your best to hide any emotions you had and ignore the feeling of just wanting to cry. 

“Y/n, babe come on don’t be like that!” 

Mat stood in the tunnel yelling after you, but he didn’t bother to chase you. Knowing it wasn’t the time or place, though when was the time and place for you two anymore? 

Finding a warm area tucked away at the stadium, you took out your laptop and started editing, anything you could do to get your mind off of Mat and how annoyed you were. . 

Beginning to edit the footage you took of Matthew, a smile crept across your face. Everything about Rempe was infectious. His thick Canadian accent as he spoke made you laugh. The little phrases and things he’d say when he got excited about the game and this opportunity. Pulling out your phone, you shot him a text, not sure if he’d respond since he was probably getting warmed up. 

“Soooo, when is it considered too early to make Matthew Rempe, let’s bang some bodies merch? Lol” 

Sitting in his stall, Matthew heard a quick ding over his music, slightly cursing at himself for not turning his phone on do not disturb. He had been getting tons of texts from friends and family about his debut, and while he appreciated it, they were distracting for sure. He went to simply swipe the text away, figuring he’d respond later. But he stopped as he saw your name displayed on the screen. 

He chuckled to himself at the text, typing out a quick reply before heading off to stretch with some of the guys. 

“Ehhh, not sure how entirely appropriate the merch would be. People who weren’t in on it may think it’s like a sex joke or something.” 

Finally seeing a reply from Matthew you laughed out loud, quickly typing a reply before you put the finishing touches on your social media post. 

“Oh lord I can see the headline now, Rangers merch sales at an all time high after rookie proudly endorses banging bodies.”

As soon as you got your content edited and posted, you shut your laptop and got everything packed back into your bag. Deciding you were in desperate need of caffeine if you were somehow gonna make it to game time. The Rangers kept a stash of energy drinks in their locker room, half the time you swore just for you because you never saw the guys drink them. 

“Oh no, here she comes! She’s gonna ask us to do a tik tok!” Vinny Trochek calling out to the guys playing soccer and they all pretended to scatter. Being the media girl the loved giving you a hard time, but you knew it came with the territory. “Very funny Vinny, just wait until you see the embarrassing shit I’ve got of you ready to post!” 

Trochek making a face at you as you popped in the locker room to grab your drink. 

buzz buzz 

“You know, if you were sneaking in the locker room to try and catch a glimpse of me shirtless or something, you could’ve just asked ;)” 

Practically choking on your Celsius you wiped your mouth as you stared at the text you receive from Matthew. He truly was something else, his flirting not at all subtle. Though you didn’t mind, he was a ten for sure. Though you knew he probably was a player and had girls drooling over him. 

But after the not so warm greeting from your boyfriend, you welcomed a little flirting. 

Exiting the locker room you locked eyes with Matthew giving you a shit eating grin as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. He smiled to himself as he bit his tongue, turning his attention back to the guys as they finished up their game of soccer. 

The final horn sounded, ending one of the most exciting games you’ve seen in awhile. The Rangers somehow pulled out the win, coming back from down 3 goals to take the game in overtime. Rempe got his first fight in his NHL debut, and the media content you got from this game was endless. The thought of all the editing you’d have to do tonight buried in the back of your mind as you focused on trying to find something to eat in the catering area near the locker room. Lucky for you, some of the guys were always kind enough to set food aside for you, knowing you rarely ate when working the games. Not even by choice, but simply because you were responsible for catching anything and everything on camera and posting in real time. 

You munched on some french fries as you scrolled through the comments on your post of Rempe’s debut, laughing at all the girls drooling over him through their screens. Continuing your scroll you hardly noticed the scratched up knuckles reaching in to steal a fry. “Matthew Rempe how dare you!” 

He shot you a cocky grin as he tossed the fry in his mouth, “Sorry, I had to, you were asking for it.” Rolling your eyes you finished off the fries, then reaching for your bag only to be stopped by Matthew. “Here, as an apology for stealing a fry, let me carry this for you. It’s the least I can do.” Smiling softly you obliged, letting him hold the bag as the two of you headed towards the parking garage. 

“Oh, nice fight by the way. Didn’t feel like wasting much time huh?” He smiled proud as he shrugged, “Better to get it over with early, gets the nerves out you know?” 

As you approached your car, he pulled your bag from his shoulder. “Not seeing the boyfriend or anything?” Checking your phone, you’d never heard back from Mat whether or not he’d want to see you tonight. “Probably not, I’ve got a lot of editing to do and…” your voice trailed off as you tried to make up a believable excuse as to why your boyfriend couldn’t see you. To which Matthew saw right through, “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you earlier, trouble in paradise?” 

Letting out a huff you tossed your bag into your passenger seat as you laughed, “how much time you got Rempe?” An apologetic smile crept across his face as he saw you holding in a lot. He wanted to just hug you, let you cry if you needed to. He’d only just met you a few hours ago yet he felt like he was meant to. Like you needed him to come into your life and somehow make it better. “Well, my family is in town and I definitely have to see them. We are grabbing dinner. But, I can certainly make time later tonight?” Nodding your head you walked over to the drivers side of your car, Matthew offering a quick hug to you, sensing you needed it. Which you did, very much so. He closed the car door before leaning down and resting his arms on the frame as you started it up. “I’ll text you when I’m done with my family? Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky which was quadruple the size of yours, making you chuckle as you wrapped yours around it. “Don’t make me sit around my phone waiting for a text you don’t plan on sending Matthew Rempe.” 

He laughed as he walked away from your car, “you kidding? I’ve already got our conversation pinned in my messages!” Shaking your head you rolled up the window, pulling out of the garage and heading out on the traffic filled road for your drive home. 

As much as you loved your job, sitting on your couch and staring at the same repetitive clips of the Rangers for hours while editing really got old fast. Trying to fight your exhaustion you closed your laptop, pulling out your phone to try giving Mat a call. He texted you after the game, a half hearted apology that truly did nothing more than make you roll your eyes. 

Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.

Typical Mat, phone on do not disturb after a loss, and you probably won’t hear from him until later or even tomorrow if he’s really in a mood. It had unfortunately become the norm, and while you hated it, you couldn’t say much about it. You did sign up for this somewhat when decided to date a NHL player, and one who happens to be one of the top names in the league. He bears a lot of weight on his shoulders from his franchise, and it’s been taking a toll on him for the last year or so. Spilling over to affect your relationship, though he won’t agree. He thinks things are as good as they’ve ever been. Despite the two of you barely speaking, rarely ever seeing one another now, and we won’t even talk about the lack of anything remotely sexual. Not even the occasional nude could get Mat going, so you’d stopped trying to change him. Accepting that maybe this was who he was now, but never building up the courage to just walk away. 

The buzzing of your phone in your lap snapping you from your sad thoughts, as a smile now appeared on your face after seeing Matthew’s name pop up on your screen. “Thank you for calling y/n’s phone, how can I help you?” Matthew chuckled on the other end of the call, “I am really hoping that y/n is available and still wants to talk to me after the long day she had? I might even have dessert that I am sure she’d love right about now.” 

“You want to come over?” Your tone sounding a bit more harsh than you intended, just a bit shocked that he was offering to stop by versus just talk on the phone or text. “Oh, um, I don’t know. You seemed a bit down earlier, and I just felt like you could use some cheering up. Plus you said it yourself, I’m gonna have to get used to spending time with you so might as well get a head start.” 

Before he could finish his sentence you’d texted him your address, telling yourself to say fuck it and have him come over. You refused to sit and sulk over your boyfriend any more than you already had. 

“Sweet, I’m only like 15 minutes away. Me and the cake will be there soon!” You cackled into the phone as Matthew quickly regretted his words, “I meant like the dessert, not my ass or anything. Oh god! Look I’ll be there soon okay?” 

Embarrassed, he hung up while you continued your laughter. Packing up your computer and cleaning up your place a bit, not sure where your sudden nerves were coming from. It’s not like Matthew would be expecting a five star mansion to be hiding within your small NYC apartment. And before you could double check the clothes you’d thrown on the second you got home, a knock came at your door. The last thing you expected when opening it was Matthew to now be in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair still somewhat damp from his postgame shower, looking even better than you’d remembered. To put in plainly, he looked hot. 

“I hope you like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting!” 

He beamed as he carried the cake inside, setting it on your kitchen island then taking in the apartment. Nodding in approval as you went to grab two glasses, offering water which Matthew kindly accepted. 

“So,” he started as he took a seat on your sofa, “cake first or did you want to tell me your life story to get that over with?” Grabbing the box of cake along with two forks, you took a seat next to Matthew before handing him the extra utensil. 

“How about both?”

“Okay so, why don’t you just breakup with him? I mean, I know that’s easier said than done, but you don’t seem very happy.” Playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as you finished telling Matthew the gist of your love story with Mat, and his reactions were all what you’d expected. “I don’t know, I mean, I love him. It’s not easy to break up with someone you love. And I keep telling myself it’ll get better.” 

“When? Once he wins a Stanley Cup and finally eases up a bit from his Mr. Perfect persona and attitude? How long is that gonna take?” 

He had a point, you truly had no clue when Mat would change and start being like himself again. You missed the karaoke nights with him and your friends, movie nights at your place, dinner dates, even just sleeping in the same bed as him. You missed him, but something tells you he didn’t miss you. 

“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. Hell, I just met you like 10 hours ago yet somehow I am in your apartment sharing cake and talking to you about your relationship troubles. I don’t know how we ended up here but I’m not mad at it.” A smile crept on your lips for the first time in the past thirty minutes as Matthew rested his hand on your thigh. “All I’m saying is, if you were my girlfriend, I would’ve sprinted down that tunnel today to hug you and kiss you. I would’ve come to see you after the game no matter if my team won the game or lost by twelve goals. You’re beautiful, funny, super fucking talented at your job, and from the few hours I’ve been around you, I can see how amazing you are.”

You hadn’t noticed yourself tearing up until Matthew reached out to wipe your cheek. “I’m not trying to make you cry, now I feel bad. Should I make you laugh?” He pouted his lips at you, doing his best to earn a smile. 

“Like being so for real, if I was your boyfriend and I got to see you today after like a month, we would’ve had to go somewhere private at that stadium cause there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over you the second I see you.” 

Shaking your head you grabbed the forks and cake box from the table, walking them all to the kitchen as Matthew laughed at his words, though not denying them. “Well, as amazing as that sounds, I couldn’t even tell you the last time Mat did any of that.”

Matthew practically choked on his water as you rinsed off the forks, “what?”, then putting them aside to dry. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even been having sex with him, he’s your boyfriend y/n! Like…is he gay?” 

“Matthew Rempe!” 

“I mean, I don’t know,” he shrugged as he joined you in the kitchen, “I’m trying to wrap my brain around how a guy could be dating a girl like you, and not be even having sex with her. Like I get the not seeing each other as much because of being in two different cities, the limited phone calls and stuff, but going months and months without sex!? I’m not trying to cause a stir in your relationship or come across disrespectful, but I would one hundred percent not be able to go a month without getting my hands on you and- actually, let me stop myself before I say some things I shouldn’t.” 

Your jaw practically on the floor as he retreated, quickly sipping his water so he didn’t have to speak. “No, actually I think you should continue. I’m kinda tempted to hear this.” You leaned back against the counter as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, a smirk on your face as you could sense Matthew’s nervousness with you getting closer to him. He eyes you up and down from behind his glass before that signature cocky grin crept across his face. His hands now on either side of your waist as he looked down at you. 

Everything in you was telling you to stop, to not let your interaction with Mat lead you to do anything you’d regret. But hell you’ve been in this cycle for months. Constantly waiting for the day your boyfriend starts acting like your boyfriend again. And you were also a woman with needs. If a 6 foot hot man in your kitchen wants to gas you up and show you what you’ve been missing, how are you to say no to that?

“Well for starters, I’ve been trying my best to not stare at your ass with these little shorts you’ve got on. Not to mention keeping my hands off your legs, which I can’t believe you were hiding underneath your jeans all day cause wow.” To say you were enjoying his compliments was an understatement. 

“Anything else?” 

His fingers now brushing your hair back from your face as he could see your breath catch in your chest, you were nervous. He could see it on your face, your heart telling you that it wasn’t a good idea. But your body language telling him that you’d been missing this. 

“I didn’t come over to do this, or fuck up your relationship. I promise you that. And if you want me to stop, I’ll respect that.” His hand cupped your cheek as he waited for your sign to stop, but nothing came. 

“I don’t think anything you do right now could fuck up my relationship any more than it already is.” You smirked as his lips finally pressed to yours, the butterflies in your stomach bursting as you brought your hands to his hair, deepening the kiss as he picked you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. 

A laugh escaped your lips as you saw how high you were off the ground in his arms, joking that he could help you be able to clean the top of your fridge from up there. Matthew shaking his head as he brought your lips back to his. Only to be interrupted by your phone buzzing on the counter. 

“Oh shit, boyfriend’s calling.” 

You rolled your eyes as Matthew handed the phone to you, only to silence the call and toss your phone back onto the island. 

“Guess I’m a little busy right now.” 

[wosoimagines]

Told You So

part 6 of rivals

Jo gets her first start of the Victory Tour in her home state, and the team finally gets to meet her family.

2,832 words

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“Guess what I’ve got.” 

I grinned as Hope tilted her head to the side. I tapped at my chest. 

“Hope you brought all the good trash talk today, Solo. You’re not gonna stop anything I throw at you.” 

“Yeah, whatever you say, Pip.” 

I pouted at the nickname. I was sure that I would have grown out of it by now, but Hope had been adamant about making sure it stuck around. 

“Jo!” I whirled around to look at Becky who did not look happy with me. “Stop taunting the goalies. Get to work!” 

“But that’s no fun,” I whined, although I was already starting to move to the opposite side of the field to get ready with the rest of the forwards. “You don’t have to be so boring all the time.” 

“If you don’t get your butt over there, I can really be boring for you,” Becky assured, “I’ll make sure you do all of your school work on our off day.” 

I shook my head at that as I started to jog across the field. 

“Always ruining my fun,” I grumbled knowing that the mic would pick it up. “I’m sixteen. I think I’m allowed a little fun, right?” 

My eyes found the camera that was following me as I gave it a little shrug. 

Once I reached the other forwards, Christen was quick to join my side. We didn’t initially say anything to each other as we warmed up. That was until Christen tried to nutmeg me, but I moved my heel just enough to keep the ball in front of me. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tobin,” I said as I pointed at her. 

Christen shook her head at that. 

“You’re in a really good mood. Your exams go well?” 

“I was exempt. All A’s.” 

“That’s good. Get you into Stanford with those grades.” 

“I know some others who would object to that.” 

Christen rolled her eyes at that. I had been hearing everyone hype up their own college, but I ultimately hadn’t decided where I was going to go just yet. 

“So, what does have you so happy?” 

“We’re in Texas. This is my home game. Jill told me she’d start me since I saved up all my tickets for the year so my family can come.” 

“You had to save up all of your tickets?” Alex asked behind me. 

I glanced over my shoulder to look at her before nodding. 

“But that’s almost thirty tickets,” Christen pointed out. 

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I hadn’t been shy about talking about how big my family was. 

“I have twelve siblings. That’s why they couldn’t go to the World Cup. There’s just way too many of us.” 

“You have twelve siblings?” Alex asked. I nodded. “Did your parents never hear of a condom?” 

“To be fair, I was a complete accident,” I admitted. “Marley was born when my parents were nineteen. Five of my siblings were born back-to-back years.” 

“You were an accident?” 

“Yeah, no one told my parents how long they should have actually waited after my dad got a vasectomy. Nine months later and there I was.” 

“They’re all coming?” 

“Yeah! And my niece, Sky. I can’t wait for you guys to meet Sky. She loves the team.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “She watches all the games. I think she’s the only one who knows more about soccer than you just need to get the ball into the back of the net.” 

“Well, then I can’t wait to meet her,” Christen said as she ruffled my hair. 

I grinned at that before we were all called to huddle so we could start our drills. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“What do you mean you aren’t coming?” 

I ran a hand through my hair as I paced in front of the foot of my bed. 

“I have an important interview scheduled, Jo,” Mom said causing me to scoff. “It could boost the book sales. And our family is expected to be there to support me. We’re supposed to be showing a united front.” 

“Yeah, because nothing screams united like missing your youngest daughter’s victory tour. I don’t even know why I try to invite any of you. It isn’t like I’ve been asking the team to save all of my tickets for the games throughout the year to make sure everyone in the family could come.” 

“You’ll have other games,” Dad cut in. I shook my head at that. They didn’t get it. They never did. “Us missing this game isn’t going to kill you.” 

“When was the last game of mine you went to?” I asked. Both of my parents went silent. I couldn’t even remember myself. “You couldn’t come to the World Cup, which is the biggest stage I’ll ever play on. You didn’t come to my national team debut. Those I could somewhat understand because they weren’t in Texas. But this? This game is in Texas. It’s San Antonio. It’s only three hours and you’re telling me you won’t even make that trip to watch me?” 

“We have more important things,” Dad said. I tried to blink away the tears that were starting to pool in my eyes. “We’re trying to think about the family.” 

“How about for once in my life, you think about me? It’s always been the family. No one has ever been there for me. Not really!” I snapped. I let out a laugh of disbelief. “The only person who has even cared to learn anything about the sport I love so much is Sky! You couldn’t even name half of my national teammates. You’ve never cared about soccer past whether I was a good player or not. The only time you’ve had something to say to me was when I lost. It’s never when I win. 

“I won the World Cup and I stayed silent when no one in this family besides Sky celebrated it because I knew that this game was going to happen. Silly me for believing that this family would actually show up to celebrate me for once! I had to watch as every single one of my teammates was able to celebrate with their family while I was left alone! You will never understand what that’s like!” 

“You want to talk about never understanding?” Dad snapped back. “You could never understand that sacrifices that your mother and I have made for this family!” 

“That’s your responsibility! You’re the ones who decided to have a family! It’s up to you to take care of us and make those sacrifices! I’m not the one who should be suffering just because I was the kid you never wanted!” 

“We’ve never said we didn’t want you,” Mom defended. I didn’t fight the tears this time. “You and most of your siblings weren’t planned but we have always wanted all of you.” 

“Do you?” 

Both of my parents went silent at that. They had never shown true interest in what I was doing. 

“You both have a funny way of showing it.” 

Before either of them could respond I ended the call. I tossed my phone to the side, not caring where it ended up, before throwing myself on the bed. I curled into a ball as I grabbed a hold of a pillow. I let out the loudest scream I could muster up as I just let the tears fall from my eyes. 

I didn’t even think too much about it when the pillow was pulled away from me and replaced with a person. I didn’t mind either even as someone else hugged me from behind as well. 

“It’s okay,” Becky soothed as she rubbed my back. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Jo. You’re okay. You’re safe.” 

It didn’t take much to deduce that the person who had pried me away from the pillow was Alyssa. Especially once she started to run her hand through my hair. And with the emotional toll talking to my parents had already taken on me, it wasn’t long before I was falling asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I blinked my eyes open before I wiped my face. I frowned as I glanced around at the room. I tried to get my bearings, but it just felt like I couldn’t get over how disoriented I currently was. I could have sworn that Becky and Alyssa were here, but there was no trace of them. 

I reached over to grab ahold of my phone where it was sitting on the nightstand. I didn’t even remember picking it up after I had thrown it to the side. But then again, I wasn’t even sure what time it was. 

8:17 pm. 

Shit. 

Dinner was nearly over. I scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom. I turned on the sink and quickly washed at the tear tracks that were on my face. I couldn’t let any of my teammates know that I had been crying over something so insignificant. They had finally just started to look at me as if I was actually worthy of being on the team. I couldn’t let anything risk that. 

Once I had decided that my face was cleaned off enough that I wouldn’t get any questions, I grabbed a hoodie that was sitting on the desk chair before pulling the hood up over my head. I didn’t even bother with the elevator. I was much more likely to run into some of my teammates that way. The stairs were much safer. 

I made it through the doors of the mess hall that we had set up downstairs just before they stopped serving our meals. I was a bit surprised by how empty the room already was, I knew that most of the team liked to hang around and just chill with each other. But Becky and Alyssa were sitting at a table with each other with an extra plate. 

Becky was the first one to spot me and waved me over to join them. As if I ever ate with anyone else. 

“Feeling better?” 

I froze at Becky’s question. So, I didn’t make up Becky and Alyssa being with me in the room. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

I refused to look at either of them as I focused on my food. 

“Jo,” Alyssa started as I tried to shovel my food in my mouth as fast as I could, “it’s okay to be upset about it.” 

“Seriously, guys,” I said, once I swallowed the food in my mouth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“So, you don’t want to talk about a call with your parents made you cry enough that you eventually fell asleep?” 

I pushed the plate of food away from me as my fork clattered against the table. I met Becky’s eyes as I clenched my jaw. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said after a moment of silence passed between the three of us. “I’m usually much better about making sure no one has to see that.” 

I didn’t waste any time standing up. I knew that I could at least hide away with Rose and Sam. We had, after all, gotten close while at the U-20 World Cup a year ago. 

“Jo.” 

Alyssa tried to catch my hand, but I was quick to shuffle away from the two of them. 

“I’m not hungry anymore.” 

I didn’t give them any time to say anything else as I left the mess hall. I knew that I would regret not eating my dinner, but I really wasn’t in the mood to eat right now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“So, you know that we love having you,” Sam started, causing me to raise my eyebrows at the taller player, “but Becky keeps asking us to make sure you’re fine. Like multiple times a day.” 

I rolled my eyes at that. I had initially thought that Christen was just messing with me when she told me that I would never be able to escape Becky and Alyssa being my team moms now. 

“Did something happen that we need to know about?” Rose added. 

“Everything’s fine,” I assured. I had been so adamant about making sure that I wouldn’t be anywhere near Becky and Alyssa the past couple of days that I had even knocked out all of my homework for the entire trip. “Becky’s just dramatic. Really wish she’d learn that I don’t need a second mother.” 

“Hey,” Rose said, drawing my eyes from my phone to her, “Becky’s just worried about you. It’s a little unfair for you to be upset with her when we all are.” 

“Yeah, well, there’s nothing to be worried about.” 

“Jo,” Sam softly said, “You’ve been avoiding Becky and Alyssa for the past two days. Something obviously happened. Becky seems really worried about you.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Look, we’re not asking you what it’s about,” Rose said, as she grabbed my phone when I went to look at it again. “We’re just asking that you check in with Becky. Sam and I don’t mind you staying in our room, but we are getting tired of Becky constantly asking us how you’re doing.” 

I sighed at that. I knew that it wasn’t Rose or Sam’s fault. It wasn’t even Becky or Alyssa’s fault. 

“Yeah, sure,” I said. Becky at least deserved to know that I wasn’t mad at her. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. After the game.” 

“Jo-” 

“After the game,” I reaffirmed when Rose tried to say anything. “I just need to make sure that my head is in the game since I’m starting.” 

Rose and Sam looked between each other before Rose nodded in agreement.  

“But you have to talk to her.” 

I nodded at that. It was a fair demand if I was going to still be here in their room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I grinned as I jumped up onto Sam’s back. The older woman grunted but she steadied herself. 

“I’m not a horse, you know.” 

“Come on, Sammy! I scored a hat-trick. Gotta keep these legs fresh.” 

“Try an ice bath.” 

I shivered at the thought. 

“No thanks,” I said to Sam. 

Sam huffed, but she didn’t fight to get me off her back. 

“Saw that your family is here,” Rose spoke up. I nodded at that as my eyes found where my family was sitting in the stands. “You weren’t lying that it’s huge.” 

“Did everyone think that I was?” I asked. Sam and Rose both nodded their heads causing me to huff. “No one ever believes me. Not even my friends at school. Am I really that hard to trust?” 

Both Sam and Rose froze at that. 

“Not hard to trust,” Becky assured me as she and Alyssa joined our little group. “But twelve siblings is a lot. Kind of hard to wrap your head around.” 

I slid off of Sam’s back. I knew that I needed to talk to Becky and Alyssa without anyone else butting into our conversation. 

“I can explain it all to you if you really need me to when we get back to the hotel.” 

Rose and Sam both shook their heads at that before making their exit to greet the fans. 

I looked at the two for a moment before rubbing at the back of my neck. 

“I was never mad at either of you.” 

“We know,” Becky said. She reached out to place a hand on my shoulder. “We were never upset with you. We just worry about you, Jo.” 

“Yeah, and the whole running off didn’t help,” Alyssa added. Becky was quick to elbow the goalie’s side. Alyssa glared at Becky. “Hey! I’m just trying to tell her that she worried us more by running off then just talking.” 

“I’ve never had anyone to talk to,” I admitted. Both of the older players looked at me. “I have twelve siblings and not a single one is that interested in soccer. Plus, Elvis and Mick are the closest to me in age and they can be assholes.” 

“Siblings usually are,” Alyssa agreed. “But they’ll always be there for you.” 

“I’m just not used to it,” I said. They two looked between each other causing me to motion to them. “People actively caring about me. I mean, they care. My family. I know they do, but there’s so many of us that things just don’t seem as impressive anymore.” 

Becky reached out to pull me into a hug along with Alyssa. 

“Well, you’ll always have us. Promise.” 

I squeezed the two a bit tighter before Alyssa forced her way away from us.  

“Okay, go spend some time with your family. After all, Becky didn’t convince them to come just for you to ignore them.” 

I paused at that as I turned to Becky. 

“Thank you.” 

Becky nodded before pushing me away. 

“You’ll have to bring Sky to the locker room with you,” Becky said with a grin. “Go enjoy the time with your family.” 

I nodded before rushing off over to where my family was. 

[yuurei20]

Rook Info Compilation part 1: Family

Rook is from Sunset Savanna, and we hear a story during Spectral Soiree from when he was six years old:

He explains that he became lost in the jungles and, without magic, was forced to survive by breaking a rock into a knife, whittling a shield and braiding grass into rope. He says he wore mud to mask his scent and dug holes to hide it, slept under leaves for camouflage and, at one point, became stuck in quicksand for 72 hours until he was able to pull himself out via a warthog.

Rook says he also fought a tiger that had been hunting him obsessively and was stung by a poisonous insect that left him “flitting in and out of delirium,” which is when he saw a ghost that he followed to the edge of a river, which is where his mother found him.

Rook’s tale impresses Sebek but Trey is incredulous, believing it to be an elaborate joke.

(Parts of Rook's story seem reminiscent of Disney's "Tarzan")

In Book 6 Rook explains that one of his ancestors was an “avid traveler” who constructed villas containing teleports all over the world.

Epel comments, “Don’t you need some kind of special government permission for that?”

When asked what it is that his family does, Rook refuses to elaborate.

Rook is the third oldest of six siblings and says that his entire family only gets together about once a year, as it is difficult for everyone’s schedules to line up.

Epel describes Rook’s family villas as “spectacular.” Rook says that he would be happy to invite Vil and the entire NRC dance group to visit for a pajama party one day.

Being raised in opulence may explain why Rook is so comfortable with observing the decorum required by Pomefiore and is able to teach Epel proper table manners despite not originally being of the dorm (having transferred in from Savanaclaw).

Rook has a voice line of “You think I’m odd? Then clearly you need to learn more about me,” but whenever people press for details he refuses to indulge them, such as when Sebek asks about his family during Spectral Soiree:

Trey lies about seeing a ghost to derail Sebek and protect Rook’s privacy, saying that he has noticed that Rook avoids talking about personal matters during club meetings and he might not appreciate people prying into his private life.

Rook says that he is forever grateful for Trey’s discretion.

Leona seems to be an exception to his rule, with Rook inviting him to ask whatever he likes during his birthday interview, perhaps knowing that Leona has no interest in learning about him and would thus refuse.

[answer2jeff]

not a lot, just forever.

carmen's opening up, but he wishes you'd do the same.

warnings: fluff + angst. fem!reader who is also a big reader (mostly poetry) and occasionally journals. unestablished relationship (friends to lovers, mutual pinning.) very touchy-feely. writing is overly detailed and so painfully poetic you might vomit.

word count : 2.4k

hey. i think i left my book at ur place. 11:15pm.

sorry, just got home. i can bring it over now 11:36pm.

oh yeah that'd be great! thank you. (sorry for the inconvenience) 11:38pm.

no worries 11:41pm.

lmk when ur here. xx 11:45pm.

Carmen had some idea of what that meant: xx. He knew what it meant when girls signed notes with xoxo in replacement of red kiss marks and strokes of long acrylic nails through their secret lovers hair—not that he ever received one, no. But your occasional visits practically felt just as intoxicating. If the order was x-o-x-o, and the worded statement being hugs-and-kisses, then xx must've been hugs, right? Two hugs. Like the one you shared the first time you met at Natalie's baby shower. He smelled like authentic Italian cologne with a hint of cigarette smoke diluted by dish soap and warm water. His grasp was hesitant, but ever-all-consuming once his shoulders relaxed. It was like metamorphosis. The way he wrapped his arms underneath while you tossed yours up around his neck, his gold chain feeling cold and hard against your skin, unlike the rest of him.

He was an under-hugger. He kept the ones he cared for unsuspectingly close to him. Such physical touch felt familiar. Maybe you'd just remembered stories and inside jokes about him through Natalie so well his tenderness and anxious nature was fitting to the idea of him you had in your head.

That was almost 6 months ago. And surprisingly, you'd become pretty good friends. Not that either of you really did friends at your age...but somehow it worked. You'd come to realize that he was so much kinder than anyone painted him out to be. And yet, you never really talked about yourselves.

Not in a way that really mattered, anyway.

The articles you'd written, the interviews you conducted with snobby assholes, the dozens of freelancing jobs with horrific schedules you had before, what you loved about writing and what you hated about the world around you—those were topics of discussion. Carmen's favorite restaurants he ever expanded his career with, the odd relationship he had with his sister that flipped like a rusty switch after highschool, candle scents he loved and bought over and over again despite their poor quality wicks, the first time he got drunk and how he swore he'd never let another drop of alcohol touch his tongue—those were normal methods of late night conversations.

But what about your dream to publish a novel? Or the memoir you read that completely changed your views on love as a whole. What about Carmen's uncle being his only friend his entire life? Oh, how he would've become a starving, broken artist if he ever believed he had enough talent for it. Hell, what about the girl you met in middle school who mysteriously moved away and shared all her secrets on the true meaning of life, death, and everything in between? Why didn't you ever talk about those things? Maybe it was too close, too personal. If he knew you too well, maybe he'd see you as you saw yourself.

Carmen had been thinking about those colored pencils you bought him for his birthday and can't get himself to tell you he uses them every day. Not just to illustrate his dishes...but you, sometimes. Your hair, your smile. He used that photo you begged him to snap of you staring out your window melodramatically with a bowl of pasta carbonara and a glass of bubbling champagne in front of you as reference. How could he ever show you the endless amount of pages containing the essence of your existence in that goddamn sketch book?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Thoughts of potential ate away at your patience with every pacing step you took around your bedroom.

Answers. Answers. Answers.

—

"Do people even have deep conversations over pasta and wine anymore?" You trace the pad of your middle finger against the rim of your glass, your elbow propped up on the counter so your chin can rest in your hand.

Carmen draws his eyebrows together, the little crinkle in his forehead showing. You glance up at it and struggle to stifle a growing smile. He cocks his head before barring his bottom lip behind his teeth, picking at the skin with the tips of his fingers. That signature pose; where his left arm is crossed against his chest and his hand holds the elbow of his right arm. It's a habit you almost immediately picked up on. It told you time and time again that he was nervous.

Thinking. Contemplating.

"Is that, like—" he breaths a chuckle, but it comes out more as an accidental huff than anything. Smug bastard, he is. Especially when he drags his gold chain across his neck as it loops around the finger that once picked at the dry skin of his mouth.

"Your way of..asking me for a deep conversation over wine and pasta?"

Ah. He's called you out. The one thing he couldn't shake was his annoyance when you were so completely and utterly vague about your wants, your needs, your desires. Hell, Carmen Berzatto would wrap a lasso around the moon, or any planet you put your claim on, and drag it down so it could be yours and only yours. Only if it meant you'd stop feeling so complacent. You knew this. At least to some extent. His little favors buttered you up until you a mushy mess of adoration. What really scratched at your urges and your patience was how blissfully unaware he was of his show of affection toward you. Part of you feared that if you ever told him how much it caressed that bruised, fruit fly infested, rotted spot of your heart so gently it felt like a kiss, despite the sting, he'd stop.

"Y'know what? Yeah. I'm asking."

You shrug your shoulders and stare down at your nearly finished bowl of penne with vodka sauce. Stabbing a stack of pasta onto your fork and the clinking sound of the metal banging against the ceramic bowl seemed to fill the silence before Carmen finally spoke again, though with much hesitation.

"Okay," he barely whispers, nodding his head and fumbling to take a seat in the barstool underneath the counter. Sitting across from you gives him the constant justification to just look at you.

Starting off this session with a question was quite a kicker.

"Y'know Sade Zabala? Author of that book you brought back for me."

Carmen blinks slowly. He pretends to dig deep in his memory to identify the name, wondering if you'd ever mentioned her. But he fails, pulling his lips taught, so as to say 'I've got nothin.' The sound of your dramatic sigh and the 'tsk' sound of your lips separating makes his palms sweat.

"She's a wonderful writer. A poet. I mean, really, her book Coffee and Cigarettes was one of the most gut-wrenchingly beautiful and altruistic collections of.. of love, pain, rejuvenation—all of it."

If he was completely honest, he doesn't have a clear image of what those words meant. But it doesn't seem to matter what comes out of your mouth or how you phrase it. Your use of specific language fascinates him. There is nothing else he can do in this moment but nod and allow the corners of his lips to curl into a smile strong enough to make the apples of his cheeks go pink.

"I'll tell you one line of one of the greatest poems she had ever written in that book. In the humble opinion of yours truly, of course."

"Sure," he assures you. "Of course, of course."

"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."

Saliva pools in your mouth as you speak the quote, the taste of every vowel washing down your throat as if you dedicate them to Carmen himself. Which, in bare and naked truth, you do. The only thing you could ever ask of Carmen was to let himself tear himself open with the hope and belief that you would crawl into his fears and convert them into profound discoveries. And the trust that you would not stitch him up with your own hands, but rather clasp your fists around the circumference of his wrists as he carefully closes the wound his trajectory of life has created.

"Wow." Carmen's eyes go another centimeter wider, the language still processing in his mind. He interprets it over and over again.

"I know. And—" you set your fork down so you can have complete focus as you recite your following question, "I was just wondering what you'd say if someone told you that, y'know? What would you tell them?"

Vulnerability, he thinks. Fuck.

"I mean...fuck that's—that's a good question. Um.." he chews on the flesh of his bottom lip once again, looking above at the warm glow of the light that hangs over your island counter as if he'll find the answer up there.

"I don't even like the good stuff about me, so. I'm not sure how to, like, articulate that? Is that the word?"

Now the quickening pace has started.

"And what do you think the good stuff about you is?"

Probing questions like this are somewhat too-close-for-comfort inquiries for friends. But Carmen would be stupid to mind it. He relishes in it, actually. With much guilt. But it's tainted with the secret pleasure of being cared for by someone he so deeply valued the opinions and thoughts of.

Since the first day you met, Carmen knew he would never go to anyone else for some piece of mind. For some sanity. Or even just for someone to explain the method to his madness. You understood it—what he believed.

"I care a lot, I think. But that's not always practical. It hardly ever is now that I think about it."

"You do. You care so much." You soften your tone, hesitantly reaching for Carmen's tattooed hand that rests on the cold marble counter.

"Sometimes it freaks me out."

"Like, this whole thing, the—the restaurant, where my life is right now, it makes me crazy. But it also keeps me..."

"Human," you finish.

"Yeah, human."

Though it takes him a couple seconds for his digits to not second guess themselves, he gently takes your hand in his. The slow pace in which he intertwines his fingers with yours is enough to kill you.

"Can I tell you something?" Carmen asks.

"Anything."

"You take good care of me. Of everyone, really." . His thumb gently rubs your warm skin, the rough and calloused mounds over his fingerprints soothing you. A deep breath moves in and out from his lungs as he meets your eyes again. This time, he won't look away.

"It's like you were made to just be good."

You smile, but you're not convinced you're certain on what he means. "Thank you, Carm. But—good?"

"I don't know. You're warm. I'm—I'm not like that. I'm not warm."

This, this is where truths as bare as untraveled paws of loyal dogs that roamed the streets in search of security uncover themselves.

"What? Of course you are." You lean forward, feeling your heart pound so hard it could leap out of your body.

"I don't think I am."

To think—no, to know that Carmen Berzatto cannot share at least one feature of his layered soul he genuinely likes. God, that pains you. You could write a million sonnets listing every little thing you adored about your friend.

"Carmen, you—" you sigh, your head dropping for a fraction of a second. "You have such a big heart. You're not cold or...or out of reach, or anything like that, okay?"

Even with Carmen's tendency for rage and his tattoos that displayed yet another callback to his culinary career—his way of speaking: so gentle and unsupported, you're certain that he is something so much greater than just a chef. He took care of people too. His staff, his clientele, his family—of you. Whether it was home cooked meals when you were sick, or when you needed to complain about Natalie. Carmen listened. Not as her brother, but as your friend. You don't really remember when you started to regularly see each other during his leisure. Either at the restaurant, or a coffee shop next door to your complex, and eventually his living room.

"This is so fucking selfish, but—"

No, Carmen. You could never be selfish.

But you let him be hungry. You want him to be hungry. Starving for reassurance. Because you'll feed him until the empty space in his existence is filled.

"I just wish you'd look after yourself the way you take care of me. Like, fuck, hearing you look at yourself and point out all this shit that nobody notices—which I wish they fucking would—because I notice them and I still love those things about you is..."

Oh, what a beautiful mind you've always had. He'll always store all the love you can't have for yourself in his own heart. Your wit, your intelligence, your smile, even down to the way you have to readjust the grip of your fountain pen as you inscribe your thoughts into your journal

"Wrong." He completed his thought with just one word. "I don't like it. It makes me sad," he says again.

That breaks you. So much that a tear sure to be followed by many more wells up in your waterline. The glisten of the salty liquid in your eyes startles the wonderful man across you. You can see the immediate guilt in his face, his blue eyes filled with concern and regret. But you shake your head, holding onto his forearm as he raises his hand to your cheek to catch the falling tear. Fuck being friends. Fuck small talk. Fuck jokes and laughs and cigarettes and poor communication that just ended in silence.

This was here and now. There was no going back.

With that, you cupped Carmen's own cheek, leaning closer and closer to his lips before he desperately kissed you. His free hand anchored itself on your shoulder blade while yours crawled to the back of his head to burry itself in his golden curls. Your taste was everything. Salty with pasta with a sweet aftertaste that echoed from your fruity lip balm, followed by a final twinge of bitterness from your glass of red wine. He tasted of comfort, of acceptance, something you'd never felt against your tastebuds from the previous years of the dating pool. With every separation of your lips to swallow gasps of air, the further the two of you hovered over the counter in a needy attempt to get closer.

You didn't need answers. Not a lot from him either. Just him. Forever.

tags: @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria @diorrfairy

[laviefantasie]

“Just A Girl” : 01

“ GOJO SATORU X PRESIDENT’S DAUGHTER READER ”

SYNOPSIS: After insisting so much, you’re finally given the opportunity to attend college away from home and feel like a normal girl. It is there that you meet Gojo Satoru, another undergraduate student, and for the first time in your life are shown what having a true connection feels like. Or at least that’s what you think…

SERIES MASTERLIST

| next >

I never thought my life was anything but ordinary. Never did I ever think it was weird that most of my birthday parties were mostly full of adults, nor did I question why unless I was at a tea party organized by one of my mother’s friends my friends were mostly my stuff animals

It was what I had always known as a child. Even as a teenager my world were only my parents, my teacher, my nanny, and the staff that constantly followed me around.

What I never got used to? The flashes.

I roll my eyes and turn off the TV abruptly, throwing myself backwards in my king bed. Another day, another news reporter judging my image. Tale as old as time.

Grabbing the nearest pillow, I cover my face and scream.

“Miss,” a knock on the door makes me stop self- pitying, “your breakfast is served”

Inhaling, I stand up and grab my phone from my nightstand before leaving my bedroom. Outside stood Yuki Tsukumo, father’s trusting secretary that has also worked as a bridge for us whenever we are president and first daughter instead of father and daughter.

“Not ready for the day yet?”

“It’s 5:26 in the morning” I smile softly, “I’m just in time for breakfast from 5:30 to 5:50, digesting from 5:50 to 6:00, running from 6:00 to 6:30, and then showering before the real schedule begins”

“That’s my girl” smiles Yuki.

As soon as we arrive at the dining room I sit down besides my father, whose already reading through the notes sent to his iPad. My mother at his other side is reviewing her schedule for the day.

Another normal day for the Y/L/N family.

“Good morning, mom, dad”

“Morning pumpkin” smiles my father, turning off his iPad, “Ready for today?”

I nod smiling before taking a bite of the waffle in front of me. What was in schedule for today anyways?

My mom laughs softly before snapping her fingers, which makes Yuki leave my own iPad beside my plate of food. Schedule for the day already opened.

Fitting at 7:30: Alexander McQueen

Family interview at 9:00

Father’s speech at 10:00

Lunch with the vice president’s family at 12:00…

A sigh escaped my lips as I keep on reading the never ending list of things to do for the day. Most of which consisted of me smiling perfectly for pictures without moving a muscle, or speaking for the matter.

No surprise there. This had been my life the last four years and even before that, it had been all I’ve known.

The price to pay for having parents in politics.

“Do we really have to have lunch with the Zenin’s?” You groan.

Your father sighs, “They may not be the best company, but the matriarch is the best vice president I could’ve wished for. So, yes, we have to”

Your father was right and you knew that. Mrs. Zenin was probably the only good thing of that family that had only been known for corruption. She turned it all around, she even went against their sexist claims and became the matriarch.

She was someone to look up to. Her son though? Not so much. He was 100% his father, maybe only getting his mother’s looks.

“It’s the time for appearances, honey” your mother reminds you, “Reelections are soon. Once that’s over things will go back to normal”

Normal, you sigh.

Normal means new schedules to be followed to build your image. Normal means attending different events and parties according to convenience.

Normal means not normal at all.

“Miss Y/L/N” Yuki calls.

You turn to ask hear her only to see her pointing at her watch. You look at your iPad to see the time.

5:46 a.m.

You curse in your head realizing you had only four minutes to finish your still full plate of food, that if you wanted to stay on time. Which you had to.

Sighing, you clean your mouth before excusing yourself from the table.

Just four more days, you remind yourself, four more days and your new life starts. With that thought a smile graces your features and you run upstairs to start the rest of your day.

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

You sighed for the millionth time as you say on your bed, ordered to sit still and watch as your staff packed your belongings. One of the fantasies you had when imagining the start of your normal life was packing by yourself.

I guess that was too greedy of you.

A knock on your door snaps you out of your boredom, your father soon entering making a smile grow on your face.

“Dad!”

You run towards your father and hug him, feeling a warm envelop your chest as you feel him kiss the top of your head.

“Ready for the big day?”

“Oh, God, please don’t” you groan, “I’m starting at Magus Pugnate University tomorrow like a normal girl. Which means no grand parade!”

Your father sighs, “Do you know your mom, honey? Impossible. It’s go big or go home”

You groan out loud making your father laugh and his hold on you tighten.

“I swear I’ll scream if they play ‘Hail to the Chief’, dad” he laughs.

“Come on, let’s go” he starts guiding me to the Oval Office, “Tomorrow is a big day. Law school isn’t easy, munchkin”

“I’m ready” you assure him.

He smile, proud, “I know”

“There you are! Finally”

You both turn with guilty looks towards your mother, in her all First Lady glory, as she glares at you both.

“We don’t have all day, i thought you knew that already” she shakes her head, “Yuki start with the itinerary”

Yuki nods, smiling softly towards you before starting to list the absolutely ridiculous schedule that you had ahead of you—flying on Air Force 1, driving up to Magus Pugnate University where a parade would lead all of you to a quad for a press conference, and then, dropping you off in your university’s private dorm suite after securing it.

You were slightly annoyed as you listened. You dreamt of getting on a commercial flight and driving yourself to university where you’d settle in your dorm with a roommate as normal people do.

But you weren’t normal, and lately that was a really tough pill to swallow.

“They won't ask you about policy. They'll probably ask you about…” you zone out, “…Yaga will accompany you there to make sure everything is secured before leaving you with Sukuna, Higuruma, Nanami and Nitta with you at all times”

“W-wait, what?” You stuttered, “Not only is the Head of Security going but also the four of them? With me? And what you mean at all times? You mean the four of them?”

Your father nods, “Of course, as usual”

“Usual is me going out to events or public spaces” you continue, “I’m going to university, a private one even. A university that is very strict on who they accept. Why do I need that many security?”

“Because you’re my daughter”

That sentence is meat to make you understand. That sentence is enough for him to consider the conversation over and continue with the next subject.

The heavy weight that being the First Daughter carries is one that makes you shake under it, hoping soon you’ll crumble.

Inhale, exhale, you remind yourself.

You’re going to university. For the first time in forever you’re doing something you want. Take it a step at a time.

That night, you tiptoe all through the White House until you make it to the main kitchen. There you open the fridge and get out the Blueberry Cheesecake the Head Chef had made. With no hesitation you grab two plates, cut two pieces and serve them, before grabbing two forks.

Grabbing one of the cakes, you start eating. Moaning in delight at the flavor.

“Ugh, I lost?” You hear your father groan behind you.

“Not blaming you, mom is hard to trick”

“She’d have my head for sure if she saw us right now” he grabs his own cake and takes a bite, “totally worth it though”

“Who would’ve thought Mr. President’s weakness would be Blueberry Cheesecake?” You gasp with humor, “Have I uncovered one of the country’s top secrets?!”

You father laughs with a roll of his eyes, taking another bite off his cake.

“Excited for tomorrow?”

You nod while eating, “I really hope it all goes well”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

You play around with the piece of cheesecake you had cut, debating whether you should voice your feelings or not.

“It’s just… I’m the First Daughter, you know?” You sigh, “Loved by many, hated by many more. Hard to approach, yet never ignored. I’m anxious to see how that’ll work out at university”

“You’ll be fine”

“I know… I hope” you sigh again, “I just really want it to be fun. I want to make friend who like me for me. I want to go out, maybe drink—”

“Excuse me?!”

You laugh, “Kidding. I just want to feel like a teenager for once”

“You will, sweetheart” he kisses the top of your head lovingly, hugging you from your side, “I promise you will”

You wanted to believe he was right. You hoped he was.

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

“So, remember, you're just like any other American family. Whose daughter is heading off to college” you repeat again inside the limo, “Remember, today you're not just the First Lady, but you're also a mom”

Your mom frowns slightly, “I'd like to think I'm both women every day”

You sigh, “In short, you're just a proud dad. Like every other dad…watching his little girl head off to University in another state”

Your father groans, “Ugh, don’t remind me. Why did you have to choose somewhere so far away?”

“The distance did influence my decision” you accept, “But MPU is the University for law”

Your father opens his mouth to possibly fight your argument, but the limo stops and soon enough Hail to the Chief starts being played by the band.

“Show time” you mutter to yourself.

Soon enough you’re being blinded by flashes as questions are being screamed at your family.

“Mr. President, how do you feel about your only child going to school so far away?” One says.

“Well, I’m suggesting moving the nation’s capitol”

Your father’s joke makes all of them laugh, even bringing a sincere smile to your face.

“Y/N, will you miss the capital?” Another asks, “Better yet, what will you miss the least?”

Your practices polite smile is once again on.

“Uh, tough question” you laugh politely, “Not sure on what I would miss least, so I can’t answer that… but I can answer what I’ll miss the most: my friends and family. But I’m very excited to experience life as everybody else, and have the famous college experience I’ve read so much about”

Thankfully soon after that the interviews are over and your family is being guided to the place you’ll be staying.

“Nitta is at the end of the hall, Higuruma in the middle, and Sukuna and Nanami will stay at your door” Yuki explains.

It’s the third time she’s said it in the last ten minutes since you’ve arrived.

You roll your eyes and focus once again on looking over your private suite. It was stunning. Big enough for one person, already with all the furniture one may need (although that probably was Yuki’s doing since it was decorated just as you’d wish for).

“Shining Star on site” you hear Nanami murmur into his microphone yet decide to ignore it.

“Not to late to turn back” you mother reminds you softly.

“I love it” you smile, “I’m so excited! Have any of the neighbors arrived?”

“Who are the neighbors?” Your father asks.

“Ieiri Shoko across, Geto Suguru at the end, and Gojo Satoru across from him” Nanami answers, “Miss Ieri is a senior in Psychology, parents still together and strong supporters in the polls; Geto Suguru senior in Law, divorced parents who also are strong supporters, childhood friend with Gojo Satoru who is also a senior in Law. Widowed mother, well-known law firm soon-to-be heir. All of them have been born and raised here, went to the same high school together”

Your eyes widen at the amount of information given. You feel slightly uncomfortable at knowing so much from the people sharing floor with you when they don’t even know you’re here yet.

“Have they arrived yet?”

“All of them have already settled down and are currently eating at the cafeteria across the street” Nanami continues checking his phone, “E.T.A. is 15 minutes”

Okay, scratch slightly uncomfortable, this was an invasion of privacy! It’s illegal!

Well, it was information given to the president…

You shake your head, deciding to focus on anything other than the guilt swallowing you whole.

“Did you check your itinerary with Yuki?”

You frown, “why?”

“Well, there are just a few small functions…”, your mother starts, “your father and I thought you might enjoy attending”

“Uh… do I have a choice?” Your parents shake their head, “Great”

Yaga comes inside, signaling to your parents that it’s time to leave.

“Already?” You ask with a slight pout.

“As if you aren’t dying to see us get out of here” your father jokes.

“Well, the President and the First Lady, totally” you nod, “Mom and dad? Not at all”

With teary eyes your mom holds your hand, guiding you outside your building where the cars are waiting for them to escort them.

You were really doing this, you were really leaving your perfect life behind and achieving one of your dreams. You’d have a normal experience just like everybody else.

“Okay” you mom takes a deep breath, trying to stop her tears, “Remember, a full load of laundry dries faster than half a load. Always take the stairs. Don't sweat the petty things”

“Yes, mom”

“Your father will be here all week campaigning in case…” her voice breaks “If you need anything, anything, call Yuki”

You nod softly, “I will, mom. But I’ll be okay”

Your mom hugs you tightly, letting some tears fall as she kisses your head, then letting go. Next comes your father, who holds your face in his hands softly as he stares at you as if trying to engrave your face in his memories.

“I…”

You sigh, smiling at the way your father blinks faster than normally as he tries to stop his eyes from getting teary.

“Just say you’ll miss me, dad”

“I’ll miss you, munchkin” he hugs you tightly, “As soon as elections are over, we’ll have a father-daughter day. And I mean the 24 whole hours”

“In a row?” You ask laughing.

“It’s a promise. If you dare try to reject my offer I’ll just kidnap you, I can do that” you laugh at his words, “Be good and have fun, okay?

You nod and stay there as they get inside the limo. Drying the tears that had fallen from your eyes as you watch them go.

“Are you guys gonna at least talk to me?” You ask them once you start making your way back inside, “I mean, since you’ll be following 24/7”

Sukuna stays quiet, barely even reacting to your voice, while Nanamo gives you a small nod of acknowledgment with what appears to be a fond look.

“Maybe as a thank you for not choosing to major in something like premed”

You let out a laugh as you arrive to the floor of your studio, although your laugh fades as your eyes connect to the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen at the end of the hall. 

TAG LIST: @aishies-stuff @kouyoumarryme @mikyapixie @simbaaas-stuff @ichikanu

[jae-bummer]

Good Hair Day

Request: For your request prompts, would you please do a Soulmate AU with Hoshi from Seventeen? I don’t find very many fluffy, happy Hoshi stories. That man has such beautiful eyes and I LOVE when he has plushy cheeks! It makes me want to give him a kiss and a cuddle. I was also very impressed with his humble attitude and manners when he was on Suga’s Suchwita episode. Sorry for rambling and thanks in advance. 😋

Prompt:

11) Soulmate AU

If you dye your hair, your soulmate's hair color changes as well.

Pairing: Seventeen Hoshi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

It was only 6 AM when Hoshi was forced to roll out of bed for his schedule. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he eased himself from his warm blankets and made his way toward the bathroom.

"Nice hair," Coups laughed, emerging into the hallway at the same time Hoshi stepped from his room.

Headed in the opposite direction, Hoshi stumbled into the older member and grumbled a sleepy "shut up."

So what if his morning hair was a nightmare? That was the case for almost every single one of the guys in this group (Seungcheol included). All he had to do was throw on a hoodie and patiently wait for his turn in the stylist's chair.

Shouldering his way into the bathroom, Hoshi stood before the sink and groaned.

Not again.

Blinking hazily at his own reflection, he plopped his forehead against the cool surface. Out of all days, why did his soulmate pick TODAY to go cotton candy pink?

..

"Seize the day!" you cackled, smoothing on another layer of hair dye.

"You are unhinged," your best friend, Ash, laughed from her spot on the toilet lid. "And I kind of like it."

"This person," you continued slowly. "Has been dying their hair nearly every other month since I've known them."

"Well, you don't know them," Ash interrupted. "But go on."

"Oh, I know them alright," you muttered.

For what had been the better part of the last ten years, your hair color had changed as often as the weather. You were responsible for approximately two of those changes, and they were both out of necessity. Job interviews were a mandatory life occasion, and your soulmate would have to get over having brown hair for a few months. Mint green would not be getting either of you hired anytime soon.

Which made you wonder, what exactly did your soulmate do for a living? How did they get away with having such vibrant fashion colors in everyday life? Why did your soulmate seem to have the biggest commitment issues with something as simple as hair?

"I'm only giving them a taste of their own medicine," you sighed, finally setting down the tinting brush. Examining your work, you nodded in satisfaction. "Let's see how their boss reacts to this when they wake up tomorrow."

"Maybe they're a hairdresser?" Ash theorized as she watched your slow decent into madness. "Oooh, or maybe a clown for children's parties?"

"A clown?" you cringed. "I like your enthusiasm, but could we go for something more..."

"Aspirational?" she laughed. "Sure, Y/N. Maybe they're a famous musician and after you meet them, you won't have to worry about anything besides ugly hair colors ever again."

"If they were famous, I would have clocked them by now," you grumbled. "I haven't seen Harry Styles walking around with fire engine red hair."

"You haven't seen Harry Styles walking around in general," Ash laughed. "Give yourself, and your soulmate, the benefit of the doubt."

...

"I need an adult!" Hoshi screeched across the dorm. The sun had hardly risen, and he was already launching into panic mode. "Like an adultier adult! Someone who has a much better handle on adult life and adult problems!"

"It doesn't take much," Jeonghan croaked. Collapsing onto the couch, he rubbed at his eyes before glancing up at the pacing Hoshi. "Holy shit, have you ever seen the Trolls movie? Because your head-"

Hoshi stopped his pacing and pointed an accusatory finger at his member. "I am very sensitive right now. Choose your words carefully."

Jeonghan leveled a stare in his direction. "Fine. If I don't have something nice to say, I won't say anything at all."

"Well, we both know that's a lie," Hoshi muttered as he went back to pacing. "What do I do? How do I fix this?"

"Alright first, I need you to calm down," Jeonghan nodded. "Second, I'd like you to make me a cup of coffee."

Throwing a dirty look over his shoulder, Hoshi continued to stomp back and forth.

"Fine," Jeonghan groaned. "Get me my wallet."

"Why am I going to get your wallet?" Hoshi argued. "What is your wallet going to do for the disaster on my head? We have a shoot today and the concept is going to be ruined and it's going to be all my-"

"If you stopped to take a breath," Jeonghan interrupted. "I would tell you that I have a business card inside said wallet. On that business card is the information for a very talented hairdresser who takes hair emergencies very seriously."

Dropping to his knees, Hoshi clasped his hands together. "You are not the hero I deserve, but a hero nonetheless."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how the quote goes, and I'm mildly offended for some reason?" Jeonghan said, narrowing his eyes.

Already up and rummaging through Jeonghan's wallet, Hoshi yanked out the business card. "I owe you one."

"I'll take that one and use it for a coffee," Jeonghan nodded. "The hair can wait."

....

Strolling down the street, you felt a new sense of freedom wash over you. Your hair had been nearly every color under the rainbow (including the pink you were currently rocking) but nothing had ever felt as good as this. It wasn't as if you had something against your soulmate, it was quite the opposite. You were excited to meet them, whoever they were, but you also wanted them to be surprised by you for once.

Humming to yourself, you decided at the last minute to veer toward a cafe you spotted across the road. For such an adventurous new day, you deserved a little treat.

Just as you began to step off the sidewalk, someone walking in the opposite direction slammed into you.

"Hey!" you yelled, tumbling away from your assailant.

"Shit!" the stranger gasped, immediately leaning down to help you up from the sidewalk. "I was so distracted; I didn't see you coming. I'm so-"

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man who was now leaning over you. He was extremely handsome, albeit dressed oddly for the warm spring weather. He wore a black hoodie with the drawstrings pulled as tightly as possible around his angular face. You studied his features for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what was familiar about him.

As your eyes met, he paused and had suddenly gone still. No longer focused on helping you up, it looked as if his mind had gone somewhere a million miles away.

"Uh, hello?" you asked, waving your hand in front of his face. "Random stranger? Helping me off the ground? Did you glitch?"

"Your hair," he chirped. "When did you dye it?"

You could only blink in response as his question sank into you.

"Look man," you said, finally finding your voice. With a few grumbles, you pushed yourself to your feet again and stared down the man who was acting much too odd for your liking. "I'm not sure what your problem is, but-"

Wordlessly, he continued to stare at you as he pulled down the tightened hood of his jacket.

Pink. So pink.

"I'm Hoshi," he said dumbly, a nervous smile playing across his lips. "And I think I need to sit down because I might pass out."

After a short discussion verifying when you had actually dyed your hair and a longer discussion based around your hair history, it was pretty much confirmed. It had taken a decade, but you had finally found each other.

"I never thought this day would happen," you admitted. You felt lightheaded and damn near giddy. It didn't matter if the two of you looked like bright pink idiots in the middle of the street. You had each other now.

"Me either," Hoshi breathed with equal amounts of shock. Seeming to come a bit more to his senses, a little crease formed between his brows. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Uh," you croaked, looking up at him in dismay. You still didn't really know him and didn't necessarily like how open ended his question was.

Shaking his head as if to correct himself, he smiled. "To the hairdresser. Do you want to come with me to the hairdresser?"

"The pink just not doing it for you?" you grinned.

Reaching up, Hoshi tugged playfully at one of your strands. "While I like the color," he nodded. "Very much. Like so much-"

"You don't have to explain!" you laughed. "I get it."

"No really, I love it. If I could be this color pink for the rest of my life-"

"Hoshi," you laughed, placing your hand in the air between the two of you.

"Okay, I have a semi-important work thing today and I need black hair," he smiled sheepishly. "Would you...maybe want to come with me?"

You pretended to think for a moment before nodding. "Of course I would."

"Great! I mean, totally, yeah," Hoshi stumbled awkwardly. "It's only a few blocks away, if you don't mind."

Watching Hoshi be so pleasantly overwhelmed warmed something inside of you. Nodding confidently to himself, he slid his palm into yours and laced your fingers together. "I'm holding my soulmate's hand."

"As am I," you confirmed, trying to ignore the heat rising up your neck.

"And now I'm walking with my soulmate to change OUR hair," he grinned. Glancing at you from his periphery, you could tell how your happiness egged him on. "Did you catch that, Y/N? We're going together to change our hair."

"I caught it, Hoshi," you laughed.

"And we get to do this forever," he said quietly, chancing a look your way. "Isn't that the coolest?"

"I honestly could not think of anything cooler."

[tyuninthemirror]

— beside you: c.bg

— pairing: idol bf!beomgyu x fem!reader — genre: slight angst, fluff — word count: 2160 — disclaimers: none — synopsis: being on tour, all beomgyu wanted was to be beside you. he did all he could to make time pass, but did he ever consider how you felt? — series masterlist

— author's note: honestly, this wasn't my best work but i felt like i needed to get this out to get the series going. :( hope you still enjoy it though! ♥ (edited 6/30/23), (re-edited 7/22/2024)

You checked your phone yet again that evening, a sigh escaping your lips – one of many that night. Your message had been sent at noon, delivered by 2 pm, but it remained unread.

The official TXT Twitter had confirmed they'd wrapped up their show in Houston, and as midnight ticked closer, you couldn't help but wonder why Beomgyu hadn't replied yet. You let out a self-deprecating chuckle, the sting of unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared at your phone screen.

You and Beomgyu hadn't been going out for long. You two met months ago since you worked at the game store he often frequented, but you only officially got together right before he went on tour. You knew dating an idol would be hard, but you couldn't ignore your feelings for him.

You supported everything he did and were ecstatic to hear he was going on tour. Everything went well in the beginning, Beomgyu messaged you when he woke up and sent photos of everything he ate, but stopped a few days ago when they arrived in New York. Sure, you understood the time difference and their busy schedules, but it suddenly took him over a day to reply, even if he was actively responding on Weverse.

"'Message me whenever,' my ass," you snickered, repeating the words he told you as they were leaving Seoul to start their world tour. You wiped your tears away, switched your phone off, and headed to bed, a thousand scenarios rushing through your head.

"Are we leaving yet?" Beomgyu groaned in the van, checking the time for what felt like the hundredth time. "C'mon, let's get going, people!"

"Jesus Christ, what's the rush?" Yeonjun snapped, glaring at the younger boy from the front.

"He's just anxious to finish everything and return home," Soobin interjected with a chuckle from his seat next to Beomgyu. "Y/N is waiting for him and all."

Kai snickered, joining in on the teasing. "I'll bet he's been bombarding her with those cheesy kissy emojis."

"Of course he has!" Yeonjun chimed in with a mischievous smirk, turning to face Beomgyu. "Have you seen all the stuff he bought her? I bet he's sent a billion photos to show off."

But instead of responding with his usual snarky comeback, Beomgyu fell into an uncharacteristic silence as he stared at his phone in his hand.

"Uhh, are you ok, Beomgyu?" Soobin asked after a brief pause.

"Am I supposed to be doing that?" Beomgyu asked, looking up at the boys who stared right back at him.

"You mean the texts?" Taehyun asked in return, confused at why the atmosphere had gotten serious. Instead of a goofy 'gotcha!' or joke, the older boy just nodded.

"Well, don't you want to show her everything you're experiencing abroad?" Yeonjun questioned. He always sees Beomgyu on his phone and assumes he is texting you. "Don't tell me you haven't been texting her?"

Before Beomgyu could respond, their manager gets into the front seat announcing their schedule for the day. Soobin and Yeonjun looked at each other, a bit worried at how Beomgyu had reacted earlier.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Soobin asked as they returned to their shared hotel room, Yeonjun following behind them. Though Beomgyu seemed normal throughout their schedule, something felt off. The older boys noticed how Beomgyu stared at his phone throughout the day.

"Yeah," Beomgyu answered, smiling a little bit. "I couldn't understand some of the questions during the interview earlier, but I think my English is improving!"

Yeonjun wasn't convinced. "We're not talking about the interview. You've seemed… off."

"What do you mean?"

"The conversation this morning seems to have bothered you," Soobin explained. "So we just wanted to make sure you're ok."

"Yeah, I'm ok, but I do miss Y/N a lot," Beomgyu chuckled, his voice cracking a little as he finished his sentence. Yeonjun was about to tease him about it, but he held it back when he saw Beomgyu's eyes glaze over.

"It can't be that bad," Yeonjun comforted. "Don't you guys call each other at night? It's not like you can't see each other."

"I haven't called Y/N in a while," Beomgyu admitted. That's when it clicked in Soobin's mind. He had been sharing the room with Beomgyu through their tour, but he had yet to see him on the phone with you since the New York stop.

"Did you guys break up?" Soobin cautiously asked. But it didn't make sense to him because he had just seen Beomgyu buy you a new pair of earrings when they were out yesterday.

"No! Of course not!" Beomgyu exclaimed, jumping up from where he was sitting on the bed, panic evident in his voice. "What made you say that?"

"Listen," Yeonjun sighed, pushing Beomgyu to sit back down on the bed. "If you don't tell us what's going on, we can't help you."

Beomgyu stared at the two boys standing in front of him, contemplating whether or not he should tell them. After a minute or two, he sighs in defeat and opens his messages with you.

y/n ♥ - 7/17/2022 - 22:00 i just had lunch~ did anything interesting happen in houston? miss you lots, hope today's show went great! x

"Choi Beomgyu, these are from last night," Yeonjun's rebuke was stern as he held the phone. Soobin's brows furrowed as he read more of your one-sided conversation.

y/n ♥ - 7/14/2022 - 10:00 it's midnight here now, i hope i'm not texting at a bad time. :)

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 13:00 it's 1pm there, you must be busy preparing for tonight's show. break a leg! i'm heading to bed since i have an exam in the morning. i miss you. xx

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 17:00 good morning from my side of the world! don't forget to take the probiotics i packed for you!

me - 7/15/2022 - 22:00 hey, y/n! hope your exam went well! the last few shows went great. we'll be heading to houston soon.

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 22:10 it did! the professor was nice enough to give us extra point but i think i barely passed. :))

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 23:30 you must be asleep, sleep well! xx

y/n ♥ - 7/16/2022 - 07:00 sorry for texting this early in the morning, but i just wanted to say good night. i miss you. x

"Did you really only reply once out of all these messages?" Yeonjun's disbelief was evident. "Honestly, I'm surprised she's still waiting around."

"So much for missing Y/N," Soobin commented, handing the phone back with disappointment. "How could you leave her hanging like this?"

"I do miss her," Beomgyu's words were muffled by the mattress. "But every time we talked, I just… missed her more. I thought if I messaged her less, time would fly by, and the tour would end sooner."

Yeonjun shook his head, sitting beside Beomgyu. "That's selfish, man. You're not the only one in this relationship. Y/N understood what dating an idol entails, and she signed up for it."

Soobin chimed in, "She knew about the distance, the crazy schedules, the secrecy. She was prepared to deal with all that."

"Maintaining a relationship takes effort, especially in our line of work," Yeonjun added. "You need to balance your career and your personal life. And you can't just wish the tour away."

Silence hung heavy as Beomgyu processed their words. Eventually, he nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry for worrying you guys."

"We're not the ones you should be apologizing to," Yeonjun pointed at the phone.

As if on cue, your message popped up, and Beomgyu's face lit up, only for his expression to fall as he read it.

y/n ♥ - 7/18/2022 - 19:00 beomgyu, i think we need to talk.

"You dumbass," Yeonjun facepalmed.

"Talk to her. Just be honest," Soobin advised, allowing Yeonjun to cool down for a second. "I'm sure you can fix this."

"You better! How many times we've stuck our asses out to cover for you when you snuck out to meet Y/N! Don't let it go in vain!" Yeonjun scolded, raising his voice.

After asking Soobin and Yeonjun for some privacy and replying to your message with a 'call you in 5 minutes', Beomgyu spent the next few minutes scattering his brain, thinking of an excuse for his stupid behavior.

"Hey," Beomgyu's voice was soft as he greeted you, a tentative smile on his face.

"Hey," you returned the greeting, managing a smile despite the whirlwind of nerves inside you. You had braced yourself for a conversation that might end everything, especially after the silence on his end.

"Gyu, I just—" you started.

"I'm sorry—" he blurted out at the same time, and you both paused, a brief moment of laughter breaking the tension.

"Sorry, go ahead," you urged, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Beomgyu took a moment, his eyes cast downward. "I owe you an apology for the way I've been lately," he confessed, visibly uneasy. "I’ve been delaying my replies to your messages on purpose… I thought if I didn’t read them right away, time would pass faster and I'd be back with you sooner."

A sudden wave of confusion washed over you, rendering your mind blank and your thoughts scattered. His words seemed to hover in the air, not quite reaching your understanding.

"Y/N?" His voice cut through the fog and brought you back to reality.

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" You blinked away your confusion, struggling to grasp the meaning behind his words.

Beomgyu repeated his apology, his half-smile now tinged with regret. The sincerity in his voice was palpable as he spoke. "I've been missing you so much, I thought I could make the tour go by faster. I never meant to ignore you or make you feel unimportant."

Tears welled up in your eyes as he expressed his true feelings. The anxiousness and fear that had consumed you for the past few days melted away in an instant.

"No, Y/N," Beomgyu denied in a panic. "I handled it all wrong, I thought you would be lonely there while I was out here."

"Dummy, I'm so happy you're out there seeing the world. You've wanted this for so long," you tell him. "I'm sorry if I'm coming off as clingy. I just wanted to make sure you're taking care of yourself. You should enjoy being on the road as much as you can."

"Baby, sorry should be the last thing you say," Beomgyu sadly shakes his head. "I promise I'll communicate better from now on."

"Thank you, Beomgyu," you said, feeling a wave of warmth at his words.

"So, to more important things," Beomgyu exclaims, setting his phone down on the table and standing up from where he sat to riffle through his luggage. "Look what I got us! Matching beanies!!!"

You two talk for the next few hours until Yeonjun begs him to go to sleep.

"Good night, Y/N," Beomgyu smiled, looking at your face through the screen as you lay in bed. "I'll let you know when I finish my schedule tomorrow. I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't exchanged those words before the tour, and hearing them now felt monumental.

"I love you too, Gyu," you responded, your voice a whisper.

From off-screen, Yeonjun's voice chimed in, half teasing, half pleading, "Great, lovebirds. Now can we please sleep?"

With a shared chuckle, you both said your goodbyes, closing the call with reluctant smiles.

The screen went dark, and the quiet of your room enveloped you. Beomgyu's words echoed in your heart, a soothing balm to the ache of the past few days. Despite the distance, you felt closer to him than ever, knowing that love could bridge the gap between continents.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling with a contented sigh. The weight of his worry had lifted, replaced by a promise to do better, to be the partner you deserved, even from halfway across the world.

There was a soft knock at his door, and Soobin peeked in, a knowing smile on his face. "All good?" he whispered.

Beomgyu nodded, his smile a mirror of Soobin's. "Yeah, all good. Thanks, hyung."

Yeonjun's voice floated in from the hallway, teasing but warm, "Now get some sleep, Romeo. We've got another big day tomorrow."

The room settled into silence as Beomgyu drifted off to sleep, a single thought comforting him into dreams: 'I love you too, Y/N.' It was a simple phrase, yet it held the power of his entire world.

And so, the night passed, with both you and Beomgyu holding onto the love that had been reaffirmed, a love that would continue to grow with each passing day, no matter the distance, even if you weren't beside each other.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Eddie was M.I.A. and Buck was too.

The video above includes the scenes from S6 where Buck and Eddie were either missing or weren't mentioned even though they should have been.

During Season 6, Eddie was M.I.A. (missing in action) from several scenes even though he should have been present and Buck was either not mentioned or he was missing too even though he should have been present.

While I was watching 6x4 when it originally aired, I noticed Buck wasn’t on a call while the rest of the team was at work and as 6A progressed, it became a pattern.  For the duration of 6A and well into 6B, Buck’s or Eddie’s absences became even more noticeable and they were so prevalent that they were JARRING AND GLARINGLY OBVIOUS.  By the end of 6A, viewers were wondering what happened.  The showrunner (KR) said in an interview that they were trying new pairings which was fine but hindsight is usually 20/20 and when I started analyzing the scenes that didn’t include one of them, it kind of seemed like she may have been telling a half truth.  I mentioned how storylines and pairings were affected in a post I did in November 2022 but now I believe their absences or the lack of mentioning the other one was INTENTIONAL.

Buck and/or Eddie not being present bothered me and I wanted to know why but I didn’t research it until recently because of the way season 6 ended.  With the way TM (the OG showrunner) has been releasing and rereleasing photos of Buddie and Bathena for the last few weeks, I believed their absences in season 6 became too glaring for me to continue ignoring them.  For Buck and Eddie to be drastically removed from each other’s lives had to be on purpose and IMO, it was done so the audience would realize how them not being with each other didn’t make sense.  Let’s be real, regardless as to whether a viewer ships Buck and Eddie as a romantic couple, their presence in each other’s lives and the Buckley-Diaz family’s dynamic has become a staple on the show and when they’re not included, people notice.  Everyone knows how close they are so for them to be separated and viewers along with journalists writing about it was perplexing to say the least.

Before I delve into this, please understand these are MY OBSERVATIONS AND INTERPRETATIONS of the things I noticed during season 6, therefore, it’s ok if someone doesn’t agree.  Everyone interprets media differently so it’s ok for two differences of an opinion to coexist without someone trying to force their thoughts onto the other person.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I believe it all started with the scene below when Eddie asked, “Buck!  Where the hell you going?” because their absences started right after it and they continued through the early part of 6B.

In 6x4, Buck was off work while Bobby, Chimney and Eddie were all at work but there was no explanation given as to why Buck was off.  Everyone knows Buck loves being at the firehouse especially since he filed a lawsuit to get back to the team after the ladder truck explosion (whether he was right or wrong in filing the lawsuit will not be discussed here.  It happened more than four years ago and I’ve moved on from it).  He wasn’t sick so it’s not like he used a sick day but maybe he used a personal day or he used some PTO time but either way, the audience wasn’t told why he wasn’t with the 118.

He went to Hen’s house to discuss Connor's request for him to be his sperm donor but since she was on leave, no explanation was needed for why she wasn’t at work.  Reminder, Buck wasn’t on leave so he could have gone to her house to talk to her after their shift ended but he didn’t.  His absence was noticeable especially since at the beginning of the episode, he was sitting at the other end of the table alone and away from the group while Eddie, Chimney and Hen talked about Eddie disciplining Chris for skipping his science club meetings.

In 6x5, Eddie took Hoover the dog to Buck’s loft but the audience didn't see it.  It was the only handoff that wasn't shown in CANON but the question is, why?  What was the issue with the audience seeing Eddie give Buck the dog ?  The only thing that makes narrative sense is they wanted viewers to not see it so they would notice.  Interesting!

In 6x7, Eddie didn't mention Buck at all when he told Felisa about Chris being lost in the Tsunami but once again the question is why?  Everyone who watched 3x1-3x3 knows Eddie took Chris to visit "His Buck" that day and Eddie showed Hen and Chimney a selfie of Buck and Chris while they were on a call. In the photo, Buck and Chris were at breakfast earlier eating pancakes.  Also, after the first wave hit, we know Buck saved Chris and they got separated so Eddie’s scene with Felisa was another glaringly obvious one where Buck wasn’t mentioned and it had to have been done for a reason.  Reminder, Eddie told Felisa “My wife died… and six months later my son was on the pier when the Tsunami hit.”  Well, Chris wasn’t there alone so 👀.

In 6x8, Buck was missing when Eddie and Chris were getting ready for Chris' first school dance. Carla was there but it was kind of off putting and it seemed like she shouldn’t have been the one Eddie was talking to the same way she shouldn’t have been talking to him in 5x10 when he was preparing to leave the 118.  If they didn’t want Buck there, then it could have easily been a father and son moment between Eddie and Chris especially since she didn't do anything but say she thought it was Chris' first crush after they went into the kitchen.  It was only one of the two episodes she was in for the entire season, so what gives?

Later in the episode, Eddie ended up telling Buck and the 118 about it anyway and based on Buck’s reaction, it's likely Chris had already told Buck about his crush (post linked here).

In 6x10, Eddie was present and at the firehouse while Buck and Chimney cleaned the fire engine and the ladder truck.  He was on the floor throwing a baseball with Hen.

But Eddie was missing from the call when a lightning strike hit the car and the woman gave birth but reminder, the scene happened after he was AT THE FIREHOUSE with everyone else.   It's possible he could have been man behind but the point is he was missing.  Also, why was he missing?  Buck helped Bobby with the baby and Bobby had to call Hen and Chimney over for assistance which means Eddie’s help as a medic was needed for all three victims but it was kind of like the show wanted him to be absent so the viewers would notice and we did.

In 6x11, Eddie was only in Buck’s coma dream at the beginning when Daniel told him the next time he goes up a ladder, he should have someone to have his back and Buck said he did.  Other than that initial interaction, Eddie WASN'T there and his absence was glaringly obvious.

In 6x13, Eddie was M.I.A. twice. The first time was after a call that he went to with Buck and Hen.  It was the one where the couple misplaced a "toy".

Chimney wasn't on the call with them but when they were leaving work and Buck was calling all the women he slept with to see if he satisfied them (which was 🙄 I don’t even have words), Eddie wasn't there but Chimney was.  But the question once again is why? Could it be the show was making a point since Buck had just had a conversation with a victim’s husband about an article he read that stated 80% of women aren’t satisfied by their partners (related post about Buck’s woodworking skills linked here)?

In 6x13, Eddie wasn’t at the loft while Buck and Chris were baking cookies and it appears to be a call back to 5x3 when AF was caring for Chris during the blackout (related post linked here).  Reminder, AF left a mess in Eddie’s kitchen but Buck’s kitchen was clean and organized while him and Chris were baking cookies for Chris’ whole class.  They even talked about cooking the steaks Buck and Eddie won while they played poker for dinner.

What was the reason for all of this?

Initially I, like many others was pissed at the lack of Buck and Eddie, Buck, Eddie and Chris and Buckley-Diaz Family scenes in 6A.  I’m still annoyed by it but like I mentioned above, hindsight is 20/20 so it’s possible the show was trying to get the audience to realize how important they are in each other’s lives by omitting them from specific and important scenes.

Did they do a good job of illustrating it?  NO!

They could have done it differently like a lot of other things but the season ended messily and by then it was too late to change it.

The point of this post is whenever Buck and Eddie are absent, it's noticeable and it can't be denied.  KR said they were mixing up the dynamics (related post linked here) but that can't be it because in 6x9 Hen ended up talking to her best friend Chimney about the way she was feeling about Denny wanting to meet Nathaniel after Eddie and Buck dropped off their four-way call, so she wasn't telling the whole truth.

Could their absences be a coincidence? No. Why?

Because in 6x7 Athena said she didn't believe in them and in 5x17 Karen said once is a mistake, two times is a coincidence and three times is a pattern.  Well, their absences happened more than three times so Buck and Eddie missing in action from each other's lives was a pattern in season 6 and it seems to have been done on purpose.

It appears the omittances of Buck and Eddie from specific scenes in season 6 was in preparation for season 7 but the question is, will anything come of them?  Who knows except for the showrunner (TM), the writers, producers and the actors and actresses so we shall see.

[saintmagx]

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)

AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪

w/c: 1198

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.

“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”

Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.

“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.

Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.

Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.

“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.

“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”

The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.

“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.

“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.

Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃• 

First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)

Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!

The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!

Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.

I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!

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Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series

Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.

“I got your message, what’s up?

“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”

“So why am I here?”

“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.

Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!

Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)

Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.

I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.

“There’s my favourite girl.”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.

Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.

A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.

“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.

I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.

Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)

“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon

Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”

Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”

Away from the cameras

“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes

“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”

“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”

“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.

You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.

“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”

“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.  

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[nariism]

i don’t dance!

pair. pro-player!ushijima x PR manager!reader

content: fluff, reader is his VERY TIRED PR manager who really deserves a raise, weak attempts at humour, no pronouns used for reader

synopsis. you need to teach ushijima how to waltz

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i eat the “teach me how to dance” trope up for breakfast, lunch and dinner. (also yes i absolutely did use a high school musical song as the title who’s gonna stop me)

ushijima wakatoshi is what people typically refer to as emotionally unavailable.

he just doesn’t have the time to worry about trivial things like romance or feelings or anything of the sort. not while he’s trying to keep up with his rigorous training schedule on top of countless interviews and photo shoots that you, his wonderful PR manager, generously offer to help him prepare for.

it’s no surprise that this man - 6 feet and almost 4 inches of pure heart throb material - has yet to find a partner worth keeping around. not that he hadn’t had one night stands, per say, but being emotionally available for a committed relationship isn’t something he has on his mind right now.

although he isn’t exactly the type to be nitpicky about this kind of stuff, he does come off as cold if you don’t know him well enough (unintentionally, of course). people who he welcomes into his life simply find him too busy or too severe in his mannerisms to form proper relationships. thus, his friend group is kept tight, extending almost exclusively to members of the japanese national team.

ushijima keeps to himself and minds his own business. he doesn’t speak until spoken to, unless he has some opinion about other volleyball players you have to thwart. he doesn’t make a fuss about insignificant things. he respects his elders and works hard in every aspect of his life that involves his career. words are kept short and to the point, never sugar coated and he certainly never lies.

he specifically remembers one scenario in which an adoring fan had come up to him after a game while you were distracted with the press, and they had confessed their undying love to him much to his horror.

“could you leave me alone?” he had told them bluntly when they asked if he could please dm them on twitter, and you nearly died on the spot when the cameras all turned to the pair behind you. it was a horribly busy week for you, playing the role of damage control all while ushijima remained completely indifferent to the storm that was brewing on social media around his name and how he was trending for two whole days after the fact.

thankfully, the fan had gratefully accepted a bouquet of flowers ‘courtesy of ushijima’ (which he also almost vehemently denied online before you smacked him upside the head), and all was forgiven. it even made him trend for a couple days longer, but this time with everyone singing his praises. he should give you more credit where it’s due, because being a PR manager for someone so terrible at smiling for the camera is like hell on earth.

you had told him once that it was important to keep a good rapport with his fans, even if they were more forward with their advances than he was used to back in high school. he looked at you funny until you continued: “i’m not saying you should go off and date anyone who confesses to you, but could you at least be a little nicer?!” sounding extremely exasperated.

he didn’t even end up agreeing with you, too distracted by the way your lips moved while you scolded him to pay you his full attention.

“tonight’s the gala. everyone will be there.”

“i know.”

“so why,” you hiss out the words through grit teeth, jaw tense as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “are you standing outside my house when you should be getting ready?”

he’s silent for a moment. you glance up to make sure he’s actually still standing there being stupidly handsome and that you’re not just dreaming he is. ushijima averts his gaze awkwardly, hands in his pockets as he contemplates whether or not he should say what’s on his mind and risk having you slam the door in his face in frustration.

(it’s happened before; once, when he told you he was the top reply on a post for asking what “smash” means and why everyone was commenting it under all his instagram photos. you slammed the door in his face then, too, but he could still hear you erupt into laughter from the other side much to his confusion.)

you’re looking at him expectantly, with a brow raised and your lips pursed as you wait for an explanation.

“it’s a gala.”

you close your eyes and take a deep breath, patience wearing thin. “i know, wakatoshi. i just said that.”

“it’s a gala, so...” he huffs, “i have to dance, don’t i?”

you look up again at his words, confusion written all over your face. you’re in the middle of getting ready yourself, dressed to the nines. not as his date, of course, though he’d asked you.

(“what did you just say?”

“why can’t you just come with me? it would save you the trouble of getting the extra ticket. it’s not like i’m taking anyone else.”

“i can’t- that’s-... it’s unprofessional.”

“oh. i see.”)

you take the opportunity to scrutinize his outfit, as your eyes always end up doing. you’re always observing him closely, hoping and praying he doesn’t do or say something that will get him cancelled. in his defense, he’s gotten better at keeping his mouth shut when he knows you’re sitting there stressed to all hell about what you’ll need to apologize for on his behalf that week.

not that he would ever admit it out loud, but he likes the attention a little bit. enjoys being fussed over, since he spends most of his time isolated save for the members of his team. and it’s not like you’re very secretive about your judgment of him. it’s your job, for one, but there’s an undeniable and genuine worry in your eyes every time he says something he shouldn’t. he thinks it’s fine that he indulges in your presence just a bit, especially since people have found him intimidating his whole life. it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to him once in a while.

you sigh quietly. “yes, you’ll have to dance. why?” you open the door wider for him, a gesture he’s familiar with equating to come in. “you’re not planning on bailing ‘cause of that, are you?”

he watches as you retreat further into your house, probably to fix your hair one last time before you head out early. you always arrive to these sorts of events earlier than he does, and always in a separate car. you were insistent that he arrive either alone or with his own date, since it would reduce the risk of scandals questioning your seemingly close relationship with each other.

close is not the word either you nor ushijima would use to describe your feelings toward one another. sure, you were the one helping to manage his schedule even though the job description did not at all entail that, and you’re the one keeping him in line with the media. he even has you over sometimes for dinner after an especially long day. but no, you’re not close. work acquaintances at best.

“no, i’m not bailing,” he tells you as he trails behind, following you to the mirror in the hallway - the one hung up above a high table littered with trinkets from past events and some photos of you and your friends and family. you look at him with a quizzical expression through the mirror.

“then?”

he stands rigidly behind you. the thought that it feels strangely domestic with you getting ready in front of him like this crosses his mind, and makes him grossly warm and fuzzy inside.

“i don’t know how to dance.”

you pause in your ministrations, hair that you meant to pin up falling back over your eyes as you stare at him with bewilderment. “you what?”

“i don’t know how to dance,” he repeats, though you heard him perfectly fine the first time.

“you... don’t know how to... dance...” you sound out the sentence slowly, hoping that you possibly misheard him. to your horror, he only nods in confirmation.

in your one year, three months and twenty-two days of working with ushijima, how could it have never once dawned on you that this 6 foot monster of a volleyball player doesn’t know how to do something as elegant as a waltz?

it’d never been a problem before. most events don’t include anything of the sort, and all the events you do attend with ushijima are to give out awards or give esteemed recognition to MVPs. but for a christmas gala, there will definitely be booze and partying and absolutely dancing involved.

for a second, he thinks you’ll keel over and place your head into your hands on the table like you usually do in these situations, or that you’ll start muttering curse words to yourself, or maybe you’ll scold him some more for never learning. but much to his (pleasant) surprise, you just laugh. and laugh. and keep laughing, until there are tears in your eyes. his poor heart can’t take it.

“what?” he asks, almost sounding offended. but his expression is still stone cold as you look back up at him, turning to face him this time. his breath hitches when the action causes a whiff of your expensive body spray to waft in his direction.

“i just wasn’t expecting you to say that,” you muse. he knows what you really mean is that you’re surprised he isn’t here causing trouble for you before this event like he always does, complaining like a child that he doesn’t see the point of attending. “why didn’t you just say so? it’s easy. i’ll show you.”

he stares at you momentarily while you stand there, hand outstretched as an offer to take it. he half expects you to yank it back and laugh in his face, more cruelly this time, but you just smile at him with the slightest tilt of your head. you sound so genuine that any hesitation left in his body melts away, and he awkwardly accepts your hand and waits for your guidance.

he’s stiff as a board as you pull his hands where they need to go, one resting on your hip and the other hanging in the air for you to take. “i’ll teach you how to lead first, okay?” he can only nod in response. you step forward once with your left, urging him to step back with your timing. then you’re shuffling over, gliding along the floor with ushijima trying his damndest to follow along, and then your feet meet again in a different spot.

he grunts quietly in concentration, watching your movements carefully and clumsily trying to catch up. it’s a simple enough motion, but he’s too big and it feels clunky to do this for the first time. you seem deeply amused by his confusion, and he glares at you quickly before his eyes are back on the floor.

“now you try. we can go slow,” your voice is soft. encouraging. so unlike your usual stern demeanor with him. “step forward.”

ushijima does so obediently, sliding his left forward to the best of his memory.

“good. now your right goes to the side and the left follows.”

he listens to you again, but his gait is much larger than you anticipated, and your back hits the table behind you with a gentle thud. he mutters something along the lines of an apology, but he seems too focused to realize the compromising position he’s put you in. you smile at him anyways, rotating around 90 degrees to give you more space to move.

“now again in the opposite direction.”

“this is too complicated.”

“this is the easiest motion...”

“i don’t like it.”

“you gonna keep complaining or are you going to dance with me?”

he stops in his tracks, boring into you with intensity in his eyes. you watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “...what’s wrong?”

ushijima just shakes his head, and then his feet are moving again as he tugs you along clumsily. “nothing. but maybe you should be my dance partner for the rest of tonight.” you raise a brow at him in question, even though you can feel the heat rising in your face and all the way to the tips of your ears. he clears his throat, looking away. “wouldn’t want any bad press about my terrible dancing,” he quickly adds.

this gets a laugh out of you. “as your PR manager, i don’t think that’s the kind of negative press i’m supposed to be getting you out of.”

“and as a friend?”

another laugh, a little breathless. “yeah, yeah. fine. as your friend i’ll make sure no one knows how awful you are at this.”

he blinks down at you, unsure if he’s ever seen you so relaxed before. you’re always so high-strung about work and keeping his name clear. there’s a softness gracing your face right now and he doesn’t know how to handle himself or his racing heart.

okay, yeah. maybe he can try and be a little nicer to his fans to see you like this more often.

EXTRA:

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[hellfiremunsonn]

Why Are You So Nice To Me? Joseph Quinn x Reader

Why Are You So nice To Me?

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

SUMMARY: This new life is taking a toll on you. Desperately trying to not seem ungrateful leads you to an overstimulated panic attack that Joe helps you through.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

AN: A big thank to @creme-bruhlee​ for giving me that one liner that sparked me to finally finish this. I love u

Warnings: None really? Fem!reader, reader has a panic attack/anxiety attack, mentions and descriptions of said panic attack/anxiety attack, Joe being the softest sweetest boy, I love him. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

Wordcount: 3069

Since the premier of Stranger Things season four my life hadn't had a moment to slow down. It was interviews after interviews, sometimes multiple ones in the same day, different hosts, different shows, websites, everything. Adding all of that with so much traveling, especially with Jospeh, Jamie, and I being three new characters; our schedules were often linked together because of it; Although now, I stood a few feet away from them, leaning against the wall closest to the elevators.

It was about 6 pm at night and I was standing in the lobby of some fancy hotel in Brazil. A white and black dress wrapped against my skin, the hot weather and sun, giving me a healthy bronzed glow. I stupidly decided on a classic pair of very high all black stilettos. I should have opted for an open toe wedged heel or something. But I wanted to impress everyone. My first acting gig, first round of interviews, first time traveling far without family, it was nerve wracking but I wanted every second of it to go well. Something I didn't think that would bother me as much as it did, was not constantly having my phone on you. I didn't realize how much I relied on it as a coping mechanism when I was anxious, or uncomfortable. It was difficult to not have that immediate distraction.

Picking at the black nail polish on my thumb I sighed heavily, trying to get myself into the proper mindset for this Stranger Things party? Event? Meet and greet? Whatever it was, I was ill prepared and uncomfortable to say the least. Jet lagged, sweaty, homesick, and anxious; but it didn't matter, not when you had fans to impress, people to impress, companies to impress. I never had a moment with my own thoughts for more than five minutes before being escorted to another room, car, or airport, it was always something. Not to say I wasn't grateful for everything because I truly was; just there's simply nothing that can prepare you for something like this. A cliche at its finest. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud at my own thoughts. Only another 'famous' person would understand, and in a way it almost felt pathetic, even if I knew it was true.  

A tap to my shoulder startled me slightly. I turned around to see Joe with a soft smile on his face.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just tired" I lied. I think he could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly but he didn't comment.

"The heat doesn't help either I don't think" He said laughing.

"God no, it makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a warm hug, but also in a warm bath? Maybe both at the same time? I don't know but either of those sound better than a party right now" I said sighing. Tapping the tip of my shoe against the shiny tiled floor.

Joe looked like he was about to say something but just as he opened his mouth, we were waved over and instructed on where to go and what to do.

The three of us stationed at the entrance of grey double doors. I stood between the two men, both of their arms coming to wrap around my waist, and mine on theirs.

"Let's get this show on the road yeah?" I said forcing a smile, glancing between the two.

The doors swung open and as the three of us sauntered in, the small but crowed room filled with applause and music begun to play. Jamie slipped his hand into mine and gave me a slow twirl to introduce me. I blushed and gave an awkward wave, and a clumsy curtsy to match his energy. Then turning to Joe, I grabbed his hand and twirled him around to do the same as Jamie did to me. Joe was far more graceful as I was and I watched as the girls swooned over him. It was hard not to, if I was being completely honest with myself; but that was another thought for another time. Right now I had to be present, and put my game face on. Which is exactly what I did. I walked around and mingled with everyone, taking pictures and answering questions as best as I could, especially without giving anything away, just incase there was anyone around who hadn't had the opportunity to finish the season just yet. The music was uncomfortably loud and I struggled to hear what people were saying, barely able to make out the often broken English, but I tried my best.

After a while I snuck away to the back of the room, attempting to people watch while I clutched my glass of ice water to my chest. A few minutes alone and hidden from the eye of people I leaned my back against the wall, trying to regulate the beating of my heart. Nothing seemed to help it, and it only became worse, at this point I was facing the wall, desperately begging myself to stop hyperventilating. I could feel my bottom lip wobbling as I tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. A hand on the small of my back startled me and I almost dropped the glass in my hands as I whipped around. It was Joesph, once again, a knight in shining armour. "What are you doing all the way over here?" He asked.

I looked at him. My heart still thumping in my chest, and I could feel words on the tip of my tongue but when I opened my mouth to speak they wouldn't come out. My brows furrowed, and the only noise I was able to make was a small whimper, but it sounded more like a choke. "Come 'ere" He said wrapping his arm around my waist. He took the glass from my hand and placed it on a nearby surface. Strategically moving around the people in the room as he lead me out and back into the lobby. Security following us quickly until we were safely out of sight from any lurking people. My chest rising and falling faster now, my hands covered my ears and my eyes were shut tight out of instinct and I didn't even realize I had done it until Joe was facing me in the elevator placing his hands over mine. My anxiety had heightened everything, every noise, and light and moment seemed all too much and I could feel myself getting overstimulated; suddenly hyper aware of how the fabric of my dress clung to me, and the way the tag was digging into my spine.

When I opened my eyes to look at him, the tears hidden behind my lids fall easily down my cheeks. When the elevator dinged he lead me down the hall; his hand still on the small of my back only letting go of me to reach out for the small bag I clutched in my hands. "Key?" He said softly and I fumble with shaky hands, pulling out the keycard to my hotel room. He took the card gently, his free hand never leaving the small of my back while he unlocked the door, encouraging me to walk in before him, stopping only a few feet from the door. He closed and locked the door behind me and came to face me again.

"What's going on?" He asked quietly, while his hands were rubbing both my arms up and down in attempts to sooth me.

"I-I just" I choked out a sob, my head falling to my chest.

"Hey you're okay, everything's okay"

I shook my head. "No, no everything is not okay, I'm not okay" I cried, pulling away from him a little more aggressively than intended. Leaning one hand on the wall I balanced on one foot ripping one of my heels off, and then doing the same with the other shoe. Chucking them onto the floor. I desperately grabbed at the back of my dress, trying to reach the zipper. "I'm losing my goddamn mind Joesph" I mumbled, through snot and tears. "I can't remember the last time I was home, or the last time I slept in a bed that wasn't in a hotel. I haven't seen my mom in months and I'm so fucking lonely and I fuck!-" I stopped trying to reach for the zipper, my hands balled into fists at my sides. I tried again to take control of my rapid breathing, I really didn't want to be having a full meltdown in front of anyone let alone Joesph but he stood there quietly and patiently, giving me the space I needed.

Calming slightly I tried reaching for my zipper again, only for it to get stuck about a quarter way down, stuck on the fabric. I tugged at it harshly before trying to pull it apart but I couldn't get a proper grip reaching behind me.

"Can I get your zipper for you?" He asked after a had a couple of minutes to lose my temper.

"Please?" I said desperately, turning around and walking back over to him, my bare feet padding against the floor. I turned around so my back was facing him, pulling my hair to the side and over my shoulder so it wasn't in the way. His fingers traced lightly against the back of my neck, moving a few pieces of hair I had missed in the process. Goosebumps coated my skin and I tried to control the shiver that attempted to surface, hiding it with a shaky inhale. He pulled at the zipper, bringing it back up and down, feeling it tug at the fabric again, even with Josephs nimble fingers.

"Just rip it-Please I need it off of me" I pleaded.

I felt him tug at it a few more times before I heard him sigh, shifting behind me. I went to turn around when his hands returned to my back and he pulled both ends of my dress apart, ripping it in one go. I gasped in relief, almost losing my balance, one of his hands coming to land firmly on my waist pulling me back into him, my back against his chest, holding me steady for a moment. The dress hung loosely under my breasts, sitting at my waist, my strapless bra keeping my chest covered.

Joesph cleared his throat and I turned my attention back to him, stepping away from him and turning to face him. He avoided looking at me, eyes looking every direction other than the one in front of him. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I just n-needed to get that dress off of me" Stuttering over my words, with my body still wobbly from the anxiety.

"S'all good, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable either" He said laughing a little, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Can I do anything to help?"

"Um, a hug would be nice?" I said clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to free them from the tingling numbness that coursed through them.

His eyes softened, and I felt a fresh wave of tears form as he held his arms out to me. A small cry slipping past my lips, sounding more like a pathetic whimper as I walked into his arms, burying my face into his chest. His hands warm, one of them coming up to the small of my back, while the other cradled the back of my head. "I got you baby, don't cry, m'right here" he said quietly, into my temple. His breath warm as he placed a small kiss to the skin just before my hairline.

He began swaying slowly back and forth, and we stood there like that for a few moments before I leaned my head up to look at him, cheek still resting on his chest. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"What?" He said, pulling me away from him slightly so he could see my face better. Hands held softly onto my elbows. "What do you mean 'why' ?"

I shrugged looking down to avoid his curious eyes, a little embarrassed at my question. "I just... I dunno, I think you're the nicest man I've ever met" catching a quick glance at him, his eyes softened.

"Fucking christ" he breathed with a laugh. "You're just the sweetest thing aren't you? Bet you don't have any idea"

"Any idea about what?" I asked furrowing my brows.

"That I've been crushing on you since you walked into that room on day one of the table read" his hands coming up to rest on either side of my neck, thumbs just under my jaw. "But I don't think now is an appropriate time to tell you all this- I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you being in a vulnerable state, so just ignore me" He was blushing, and fumbling over his words, nervous after his confession. A hand coming to scratch at the scruff on his chin, he cleared his throat, turning away to the rest of the room and said "lets get you into some comfier clothes yeah? We could-"

"N-no" I stuttered, reaching out for his arm quickly. He raised a brow. "Just keep talking? It's helping" I said bashfully, arms wrapping around myself.

He smiled slightly, clearly trying to act more casual about it. "I can do that" he said with a nod.

"Just, sit on the bed o-or something, I'll um, get changed" I said while heading towards my messy suitcase, shifting through the clothes to find something better to wear while Joseph sat on the end of the bed, laying back facing the ceiling with his hands across his stomach.

"Well as I was saying" he said with a laugh. "When you walked into the room, with that big sweater- you were swimming in it but god I thought you looked adorable" he sighed. "You sat next to me, and I remember hiding my pen, just so I could ask you to borrow one, and then when you laughed? I tried so hard to play it cool, but I don't think I did very well" he paused. "I mean how could I when someone as beautiful as you was smiling and laughing, and looking at me with those fucking eyes"

It was almost difficult listening to someone say so many nice things about me, to me, let alone hearing them from Joe himself. The man I had been crushing back on since the first time I saw him.

I smiled to myself listening to the sound of his voice while I finally found the clothes I wanted, a pair of green paperbag shorts and a white t shirt, something comfy enough to relax in, but loose enough to not sweat to death in. Joe was lost in thought, and I watched him out of the corner of my eye while I slipped out of my dress, removing my bra quickly, throwing on a soft bralette in it's place before tugging my shirt over my head. The movement of me untucking my hair from the collar made Joe turn to me briefly and he smiled.

I blushed, looking down bashfully as I tugged the shorts up my hips with a couple of hops. "Distracted?" I teased.

"M'always distracted when I look at you" he said sitting up, holding his hand out to me. I walked over to him slowly, taking his hand in mine.

He pulled me closer to him so I was now stood in-between his legs "How you feeling?" He asked, thumb smoothing over the back of my hand.

"Better" I said honestly. "Still a bit jittery, but better"

"Good" he said smiling.

"I um" I cleared my throat "I have a crush on you as well, by the way"

"I know" he laughed.

"What?" I scoffed "How?"

"You're a great actor when you're acting for the camera, but you're shit when you're with me" He laughed again and his smile spread, all too confident and cheeky. "Every scene we had together you'd tense every time I touched you, and when we had our kiss, I could just feel it"

"O-Oh" I was slightly embarrassed, but I think deep down I always knew that he had some sort of idea, it was getting impossible to hide. Maybe I was trying to hide it from myself more than I was from him. His hand left mine, both of them coming to the back of my thighs, squishing the skin there. I stumbled a little at his touch, my hands coming forward to catch myself on his shoulders.

"Are we going to keep pretending, or can I finally call you mine?"

"I mean we should probably go on a date first" I said jokingly, leaning forward to wrap my arms around his neck, his hands quick to land on my waist.

"Order room service, I'll take you our tomorrow, right now I just want to hold ya, and watch you get all shy when I say nice things about you" he said with a smirk, pulling me into him while he fell back onto the bed, pulling me up and next to him.

"You just want to get me in bed" I teased, playing with the collar of his suit jacket.

"Aren't you already?" he quipped.

I pushed at his shoulder playfully but he only tugged me closer, leaning so he could kiss me on the forehead.

"I'll go get changed while you order food yeah?"

I pouted, holding onto him a little tighter, already not wanting him to be far from me.

"I'll be five minutes, you wont even have time to miss me" he said while pushing some of my hair back and away from my face.

"Kiss me first?" I asked shyly.

Somehow this kiss felt different. We had kissed many times on set, and even had to have a heavy make out session for one scene. But right now, the way he slowly pressed his lips to mine; it made everything inside of me feel aligned, like he was missing from me and it almost took me too long to notice. I sighed happily into the kiss and he hummed in response, breaking away to give me a few extra light pecks before pulling himself from me.

"Five minutes" he said quietly, kissing me one more time before he left, a wide smile on his face.