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marvelobsessedteenager · 4 years ago

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All The Hurt - Chapter 3

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, horrible description of death and feelings lmfao I’m sorry

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: dis a long one HAHAH

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You groggily twisted in your bed as you tried to find the nagging nuisance that interrupted your peaceful slumber that barely lasted five hours. Your vision slowly focused as you rubbed your eyes vigorously, still searching for that damned alarm clock that you couldn’t seem to find.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled, turning on the lamp beside your bed and hissing at the sharp light that was out to attack your pupils. The alarm clock, which somehow made its way onto the floor, read 7:00 AM, September 14th.

You scratched the side of your head, wondering why on earth your past self decided to wake you up this early on a random day.

Until it clicked.

September 14th. The Academic Decathlon competition that was being held in D.C. - the one your team had been preparing for months on end.

With all the ruckus that’s happened in the past few months, the competition was filed under the “unimportant events” cabinet in your mind. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to go. The only reason you were in decathlon was because you and Peter had a competition going to see who could get into as many after-school activities as possible while keeping their grades up. Plus, he said your intelligence would be an asset to the team.

It was stupid, really, but you both found joy in watching the other succeed, and at the time, Peter thought it’d be a push for you considering you were demotivated to study.

After he left you, you quit everything else besides decathlon. When you tried to, they told you you weren’t allowed to due to your name already being written down as one of the team’s members. You slacked off and often avoided going to the after-school practice altogether, hence why you forgot about it.

However, right now, it wasn’t a burden you had to bear. You were grateful for the upcoming distraction, and you thanked God Peter was somehow able to spontaneously quit the team the other day, the 'Stark Internship' granting him access to do so. Luckily for you, that meant some form of escape without having to be around him.

You felt yourself become lighter already, and you quickly got ready for the fast-approaching competition.

Once found your team waiting by the bus, you were greeted by a disoriented-looking Flash, making you giggle as you approached him while giving everyone you passed by a smile. “You look like shit.” You commented when you reached him at the back of the lengthy bus.

“I feel like it,” he groaned, his forehead pressing into the side of the vehicle, “I’m so not a morning person.”

You rolled your eyes and handed him the iced coffee you bought for him on the way, “I know, that’s why I got you this.” You said, shaking the beverage and holding it out for him, "Drink up, Eugene. We got people to beat. And before you ask, yes it has almond milk in it.”

He lifted his head and looked at the coffee in surprise, then back at you, “You’re a lifesaver.” He said, engulfing you in a hug so suddenly you had to hold onto the side of the bus to keep you both from falling back.

You teasingly shook your head and patted him on the back, “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

“I don’t disagree.” He said, pulling back and taking the coffee from your hands with a small ’thank you.'

You stared at him as he slurped on his drink and sighed in bliss, and wondered what it would be like if he treated everyone the way he treated you.

You knew of his past and understood why his actions came from a place of hurt and nothing more. During these past few months, Flash helped you open your eyes and made you more understanding of people. Especially those who tried to cover up their pain by pushing others away in self-preservation, in fear of showing others who they truly were because they were afraid of being hurt, taken advantage of, or even worse, mocked for it.

At the simple gesture of getting him coffee, he seemed shocked that you even remembered his order, let alone got him something. Your empathetic side was much stronger than you thought it’d be, you realized, your heart aching for the misunderstood boy who stood in front of you.

“What?” Flash inquired with furrowed eyebrows, capturing the metal straw once more (because plastic ain’t it).

You were about to make a joke about how you were staring at him to process how ugly he was when Abe gleefully yelled, “Hey, it’s Peter!” And pointed ahead of him.

You swore your heart stopped for a moment, the voice in your head repeating the word ‘no'.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around in astonishment to find that, yes, it really was Peter, in the flesh.

And he’s asking to rejoin the team, but you were still caught up in his presence.

And how much you hated it.

Of course he showed up. Last fucking minute.

Boiling anger shot up to your throat and escaped through your mouth with a growl, “No, no way,” you walked towards him, eyes burning with rage as he backed up, “You can’t just quit, make a grand last minute entrance and be welcomed back.”

Of course, he was welcomed back by all but you and Flash, but that didn’t make a difference to anyone else no matter how many times you whined and objected.

“One more smart team member couldn’t hurt,” Mr. Harrington said.

And that’s how he ended up taking his seat about two rows behind yours, as you and Flash took your designated spots in the front. All the memories of him being Spider-Man fogged up your brain like you couldn’t see anything but him in the suit. It was infuriating how just him being there seemed to fuck with you.

What really pushed you to the edge was that you caught him looking at you. And not just stealing glimpses, no, you mean full-on gawking.

The audacity, you thought, exhaling loudly through your nose.

You found it hard to answer Liz’s training questions correctly. How could you? You were consciously aware of his presence, and consciously aware that he could be hearing your thundering heart if he concentrated enough.

Okay, so you may have done a little bit of research about him and watched a couple of his one minute interviews with reporters. None of them explained how he got said powers, but in one he told the interviewer all his senses were far, far more advanced than normal humans.

You wondered if he ever got a sensory overload.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ring of a bell and his answer that followed, his voice echoing in your head. When you answered incorrectly for the second time, you decided to give it a rest. You plugged in your earbuds, raised the volume as high as it would go, and wished you could tune out your thoughts like you did to the world.

You were already awake when you reached your destination. While the rest of the students were in awe of how big it was, you and Flash weren’t.

Once all rooms were assigned, Peter and Ned immediately dashed to theirs without waiting to hear Liz’s plans to "act rebellious as a group". Normally, that wouldn’t raise any suspicions, but now that you knew about Peter’s little secret, you were skeptical. They must be doing something related to Spider-Man.

You ignored the dull pain in your chest.

And as much as you wanted to find out, you were drained. Thinking had seemed to take up most of your energy, which was something you needed in order to win. So, you grabbed your spare key card to the room you shared with Sally Avril and searched the second floor for Room 249 together.

Sally and you weren’t exactly friends, but you talked a few times and said hello to each other via a nod when you passed each other in the hallways. She agreed to be your science partner for this quarter’s project, and you knew that she was incredibly bright for her age, so you didn’t mind rooming with her for a while.

When the both of you were out of breath and complaining about your backs aching from your heavy backpacks, you thankfully found your room.

And, what do you know? It was exactly across the fucking hall from Peter’s.

You annoyingly rolled your eyes and hastily swiped your card on the card reader, pushing the door with your foot and throwing your backpack onto the bed before flopping on it with a groan, your tiredness leaving you and allowing anger to fuel you instead.

“You okay?” Sally asked, always the sweetheart, shutting the door and placing her own backpack on the bed, taking her possessions out.

“Just peachy,” you sarcastically mumbled, your face squished between the pillows. You could only describe their scent as hotel rooms, but they were cool enough to help put out a little bit of the fire that you still had within you. You took a deep breath and pushed yourself up, leaning on your elbows, “I’m gonna go check the gym out.”

A while back, you learned how to manage your anger by using it to your advantage. The excess adrenaline helped pump your energy and allowed you to finish your workout faster, which in turn made you stronger and defused the storm within you. You took your gym clothes to the bathroom and changed before yelling out a goodbye to Sally and exiting your room.

As you shut the door behind you, you looked up in time to make eye contact with Peter, who stood behind his glass window and froze upon meeting your eyes. You scoffed and turned away, and he sighed and continued closing the curtains to his room, obstructing anyone from seeing him remove the tracker from his suit.

When the clock struck 10 pm, you heard a secret knock that meant Liz was here to take your asses to sneak into the pool as a group. You tiredly tied your robe around your body as Sally opened the door, squealing and giving Liz a hug. The group was buzzing with excitement, and you weren’t 100% sure of it, but you were certain this was the most rebellious thing they’ve ever done.

It was adorable how innocent they were.

While the students ran down the hall, you slowed your pace down to walk beside Flash, who waited for you at the end of the line they formed and handed you a snickers bar - your absolute favorite.

“Aw,” you cooed, finger tapping his nose, "Is this a thank you for the coffee this morning?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Flash scrunched his nose and flicked your hand away.

“What's up with you lately?” You asked, peeling away at the bar’s wrapper and taking a large bite, “You’ve been so touchy and caring. I mean, you’ve given me more hugs this week than you have in your entire life.”

Flash’s ears turned red as he pursed his lips and looked down at his bare feet, “I’m not being touchy.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a tilted head and cocked eyebrow. He sighed, “You almost died, Y/n,” he admitted with a small voice, tracing all your scars with his eyes, "I don’t know, I just...I don’t want to lose you, you know? It was scary.”

Your demeanor softened and you gave him a gentle smile. Flash wasn’t one to open up and express his feelings properly, but it warmed your heart that he tried to with you. You wrapped your arms around him once more, calmly rubbing his back, “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”

He snorted and pulled back, jabbing your side and making you squeal, “Yeah, who wouldn’t?”

You jokingly pushed at his shoulders, “I could give you a fucking list.”

The two of you laughed in the hallway as you looked up to see that you were almost at Peter’s door, where he stood there talking to Liz alone. Or, more accurately, both of them exchanging love eyes that made them fumble with their words and made a visible blush rise to their cheeks.

You rolled your eyes with disgust and gagged in revulsion while your heart clenched so hard you had to put a hand on your chest to make sure it was still beating.

And boy, was it beating, all right.

Flash was quick to notice your actions and tried to get them to separate, cupping his hands over his mouth, “Yo, loser,” he called out, making Peter turn, “Stay here. I’m sure Iron-Man is gonna need your help rescuing kittens that are stuck on trees.”

You let out a chuckle and grabbed Liz by her arm when you got close enough, “Come on, don’t waste your time with him. He’s got civil duties to get to.” You threw a deadly glance at him and dragged Liz with you to the pool, failing to notice Peter’s crest-fallen face.

Who cares about him, though? You were here to win a competition and get the trophy - maybe that’ll prove to your dad that you’re worth something, and if that fails, it’s still pretty cool to have accomplished something.

You ended up teaming up with Abe and successfully pushing Flash into the pool, high-fiving Abe before he canon-balled in himself. You giggled, watching your teammates gesture you to come in, but you shook your head and took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. Just come in for a minute.”

“I’m not a swimmer, Flash. I’ll be here, just not in there.”

Your body was aching from the lack of sleep and constant moving around. Plus, you really weren’t much of a swimmer. You quietly took a seat beside MJ as she read a book you once read as well, the chair making a screeching sound that made you cringe and alerted MJ of your presence.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, flipping to the next page and reading on, but somehow she saw you throw a glance at her.

“Nah,” you crossed your arms and leaned back, watching as Liz got splashed with water by both Cindy and Abe, who then proceeded to dunk Flash’s head in the water and high-fived, “just recognized the book, s’all.”

She hummed and nodded, and you saw her peek up at you from the corner of your eye, “Good taste. I’d like you if you weren’t a bully.”

“Guess you’ll never like me, then.” You replied, monotony lacing your voice, immediately putting an end to the conversation that was only beginning to bloom. You knew she was going to transform it into another ‘what you’re doing isn’t right’ lecture, but you’ve heard enough of it from Jane.

A tense silence settled between you two as her words settled in your mind. A bully. That’s exactly what you were seen as. You guessed people don’t exactly see what caused the change in behavior, but they see the change itself.

You placed the back of your head against the concrete wall and stared up, looking through the built in glass that allowed the moon’s light to bleed into the pool, fully brightening it up until the shadow of a figure covered the view. Him.

Him clad in his latex suit with a backpack on, hands holding the mask that would hide his identity from the rest of the world.

You saw him staring at her.

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, where it seemed to only cause a burning sensation - jealousy. You were looking at him while he was too busy looking at someone else, and that seemed to have followed you your entire life, even when you weren’t friends.

You gulped and turned away before you ever saw his line of vision move over to you, wondering and wondering.

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The next morning, you stood in front of Flash’s room with your hands on his shoulders as you tried to calm him down.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can’t do this, Y/n,” He said, rubbing his forehead. His shoulders were rising and falling at a quick pace beneath your palms as he took shallow breaths, nerves practically spewing out of him.

Who knew Flash was a worry wort?

“Okay, Flash, listen to me,” you grabbed his face and tilted it towards you so you could look him in the eye, “This competition is just a competition. It doesn’t prove your worth to anyone.” That’s not what you thought of yesterday, "Your grades and results don’t determine how smart you are, all right? They’re just numbers and letters, and those don’t make up who you are. And besides,” you gestured to the group of people that were across the hall knocking on Peter and Ned’s door, “if you’re so worried, we’ve got a whole bunch of smart-asses who’ll make up for your stupidity.”

You gave him a teasing smile and relaxed when he shook his head with a chuckle.

“You’ve got this, Eugene.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head in affirmation, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got this."

“Attaboy! That’s the spirit!” You said, punching him in the shoulder and laughing when he held his arm in pain.

The concoction from the other side of the hall seemed to have risen above your laughter, making you and Flash exchange a look before running over.

“What’s going on?” Flash asked, causing everyone to turn.

“The boys won’t come out, and if they don’t we’ll be late,” Liz answered, checking the watch on her wrist and tugging the ends of her ponytail stressfully.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes and elbowing your way through the crowd until you reached the door.

“Ned! Parker! Get the fuck out of this room or so help me God I will fucking break the door down!” You yelled, repeatedly slamming your fist on the door as it shook from the force.

To your surprise, the door immediately swung back to reveal a sweaty Ned and a missing Peter. Before he was going to say something, you asked, “Where is he?”

Ned stood there like a gaping fish, opening and closing his mouth with broken words falling out, “He..uh, he..won’t be able to make it?”

“He left?”

Ned took a shaky breath in and toyed with the hem of his shirt, “M-maybe..”

Typical Peter. Running away when he was needed.

“Of course he did,” you pinched the bridge of your nose then turned to Liz, “we’re just gonna have to leave without him.” You shrugged, watching as Liz’s shoulders deflated.

She looked mad, worried, and at the same time disappointed. You guessed it had something to do with whatever they were talking about yesterday.

You also guessed he left due to something that had to do with Spider-Man, but you didn’t have enough evidence to prove it to yourself. Regardless of how you wanted to feel, you started getting rather distressed. You wondered if he left after seeing you guys in the pool, where he was, if he was all right, why he hasn’t come back - all questions that could be answered by Ned, you realized. But you didn’t want to risk it.

So, you made your way to the competition with murmuring nerves and trembling hands. You blamed it on the competition, but you knew deep down that it was Peter’s absence that was troubling you.

Either way, you thanked God for MJ’s intelligence that won you the competition.

Hugs were being exchanged all around and pride flowed between your teammates as a golden trophy was handed to your team.

To celebrate, you made your way to the Washington Monument, where you’d be given a boring tour and promised an 'unforgettable view.’ However, there was a tugging feeling in your stomach as Flash asked Mr. Harrington if he could tell Peter that he was expelled. He still hasn’t shown up. Your mind raced with possibilities, and only got worse as the monument's elevator ascended.

Until it abruptly stopped and aggressively shook in its place, causing panic to spread among your group as dust fell upon everyone from the hole that seemed to have appeared above you, covering you from head to toe. Smoke began to fill the elevator’s confined space and-

And this was starting to feel like Delmar’s all over again.

You were frightened, hands shaking and tears welling up in your eyes as oxygen barely made its way into your lungs only to come out again. Your eyes were glued to the hole in the elevator’s roof, as if it’d somehow close up again if you stared at it long enough. It felt as if you were looking at the inside of one’s body - it was a sight you were never meant to see, and now, here you were, seeing it. You saw the wires and pulleys that kept the elevator in its place, and you couldn’t describe how wrong it was.

“Okay, guys, I know that was scary but our safety systems are working. We’re very safe in here.” The lady assured in the most tedious way possible. It was like you weren’t about to meet death himself. Like everything was okay.

It wasn’t.

“No, lady! No, we’re clearly not!” You yelled as you collapsed to the floor, clutching your head and rocking back and forth.

“Okay, Y/n, breathe, breathe.” Mr. Harrington crouched down to your level, inhaling and exhaling slowly as if that’d help you. You could hardly focus on anything but the fact that you felt like you were going to die.

Death seemed to chase you wherever you went, like you were cursed, and now these people were going to go down with you, with no superhero to come swooping in because you didn’t know where he was.

Oh my God, why is this happening?

Flash hastily looked around and pointed to a small opening on the side of the elevator, “We can open that! We can open that and get out through there!” He said, and the others got to work right away.

Ned carried the lady on his shoulders as she successfully pushed it open, allowing new air to come through, the group taking a large, collective inhale. Flash kneeled down beside you, and rubbed your back, promising you everything will be okay, which calmed you down enough to stand up.

You were still scared, hands were still shaking, but you knew you had to put others before you. So you concealed them from everyone’s view, and helped your teammates safely climb out to where a group of security guys was waiting to pull them out.

Cindy went up first, then Abe, Sally, and the dude with glasses you could never remember the name of, until you, Flash, Mr. Harrington, Liz, and Ned remained.

They all suggested you go first, but you refused and told them you’d be fine with assisting them. Flash was up next.

The minute he jumped off the elevator’s surface to grab ahold of the security guard’s hand, the wires which held the elevator in its place snapped and you began your fast descend, screaming into oblivion as your heart rattled inside your ribcage.

A strong force stopped the elevator from falling further for a second before it started falling again, not giving you enough time to catch your breath. It hit a large metal ground, hard, and that seemed to stop it and made you fall on your knees and bust the rest of the glass.

You breathed harshly, thinking it was over, basking in sweet relief until Spider-Man fell from the hole into the elevator and pushed it down even further, prompting the elevator to plunge at an even faster rate, and both Liz and Ned to let out an ear-deafening scream that made its way to your stomach, twisting and turning it while your knuckles turned white from the death grip you had on the railing.

There's your second chance at death, because apparently, one time wasn’t enough.

With his quick thinking, though, Spider-Man raised his arm and shot his web to the ceiling of the building, holding on as he planted his legs on the corner of the elevator, and pulling as it hung in the air.

He looked around the elevator, pausing for a second on your curled up body, before clearing his throat, “Hey, how you doin’?” He said, thickening his New York accent, “don’t worry about it, I got you.”

Ned - like he wasn’t about to fucking die - began fangirling over his best friend as he yelled out multiple 'yes's and bounced up and down, making the elevator’s wheels creak, threatening to fall once again.

"Hey, hey, hey, big guy! Quit movin’ around!” Spider-Man scolded Ned, his voice returning back to normal as he tugged on the web to slowly pull the lift up.

Your insides were still flipped and in all the wrong places, mind frozen as you sat on the ground, still rattled, with tears pushing hard against your waterline. Your breathing was loud and labored, which caught Liz’s attention.

“Hey,” she sat down beside you, voice husky, still half dazed herself, “we’re gonna be okay.” She said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself with her words, "We’re safe now.”

She paused for a moment, "I know what happened to you at Delmar’s-“ You saw Spider-Man’s head swerve towards the both of you for a second as you inhaled sharply. “-but you’re okay. We’re all going to be fine.”

You tilted your head towards her, tracing over her messed up hair and flushed cheeks, dirt painting her face but a small, hopeful smile sat on her lips. You managed to give her a nod and a squeeze of her hand in acknowledgment. Though it did nothing to calm you down, you were still grateful for her sincerity and effort in trying to do so.

“All right, everyone out.” Spider-Man demanded once you reached the level where the security guards were waiting. His grunting made it sound like he didn’t have as much time as he needed, and every person made their way out slowly but carefully.

You shakily stood on your legs, waiting for everyone to get out and counting down until it was your turn. Three, Ned was out first. Two, Mr. Harrington made it to the other side. One, Liz was safely out as she looked back at you and stretched her arm, palm open and awaiting your own.

You quickly skidded across the floor, and just as your skin touched hers, the web broke into two with a splick sound.

And for the next second you were falling to your death, all on your own.

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Tags: @peachescream06

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

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gwentoryfics · 5 years ago

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Hot for Teacher, Part 6.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

Words | 14k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Mentions of abusive familial relationships. Explicit sexual content. Grinding. Penetrative sex. Swearing. And, as always, poor choices.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • More Coming Soon

Note | Added Wooseok to the official Pairing list because, let’s be real. He’s earned it. Thank you all for your never-ending patience! I love each and every one of you, and I’ll never get over how much love and support you all give me.

The morning brings with it a throbbing headache and a brief moment of surprise when you realize you’ve woken up in an apartment that is not your own. You remember quickly, however, that you ran into Kino last night and ended up crashing at his place, so you’re not alarmed.

You’re sweaty under the blanket that’s draped over you, and your shirt- er, the one you borrowed from Kino- sticks to your back. Vague bits of a dream mix with faded memories of last night, and you have to take a moment to sort everything out.

You went to the club with the seniors from jazz band. The boys were so supportive, and their performance was stellar, and… and they fucking signed you up to play. Right.

And then you ran into Professor Yang, who sent you home. Your whole body had throbbed with want for him, as per usual. But instead…

Wooseok.

You went to Wooseok’s place, and he fingered you on the kitchen counter.

What was that all about? How did you end up making out with him of all people? Not that he was a bad choice or anything, maybe just an unexpected one.

Desperately, you try to piece together what you feel about the whole situation. So you start with the things you know to be true about him:

Wooseok is tall and attractive, especially in a jean jacket.

Wooseok is an incredible kisser.

Wooseok knows how to use his fingers.

And then you think of things that you know to be true about you:

You’re feeling turned on again just by thinking about Wooseok.

You’re blessedly distracted by something that isn’t Professor Yang for once.

You don’t know what you feel towards Wooseok emotionally, but you maybe wouldn’t mind if something like last night happened again. Maybe.

You puff out your cheeks and let the air rush out in a deep sigh. Somehow, you had managed to make a messy semester even messier. Literally all you had to do was just get your shit together. Is that really such a difficult thing for you to accomplish?

Thoughts of Wooseok’s lips, tongue, and fingers swirl in your brain, and it’s weirdly relieving. It feels like there may be hope for you after all - your world doesn’t have to revolve around Professor Yang. You can move on. You can see other people and stop feeling so hung up on him.

Maybe the rest of this semester won’t be so bad.

Grabbing your phone off of the coffee table, you check your notifications. Just a message from Nailah - oops, you forgot to let her know you weren’t coming home last night - and an email in your school account. You send off a quick reply to Nailah letting her know that you’re alive and that you’ll make it up to her, and then you check the email.

“_____,

Because you missed our meeting last week, I would like to reschedule. I have set aside time this Thursday afternoon to meet with you. Please let me know if this time does not work for you.

Thank you,

Professor Hongseok Yang”

The email is so formal, it makes you roll your eyes. You get it - your school email is probably monitored and he doesn’t want to at all hint at any kind of comfortability between the two of you, but it doesn’t have to sound like a fucking dissertation.

You know what? Whatever. You’ll meet with him. It’s not a big deal, anyway, because you’re getting over him.

Without the slightest hint of sass or sarcasm or whatever else, you genuinely write back:

“Professor Yang,

Thursday afternoon works great for me. I’ll see you then.

Thank you!

_____”

Sending the message, you feel relieved. You’re turning over a new leaf. All that’s left for you to do is send a quick text to Wooseok letting him know that you won’t be able to tutor him this week, and once that is on its way to him you feel like you’re ready to start the day.

As you sit up on the couch, about to get up and go to the bathroom, you notice a Kino-sized lump on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Had he slept there all night?

You reach down, lifting the end of the blanket that covers his head. “Psst.”

He inhales deeply and shifts, eyes opening and squinting at the sunlight pouring in from the windows. Passively, you note that he’s actually really cute when he’s so sleepy.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you coo. You ruffle his hair, and he swats your hand away, emitting a noise that sounds like a cross between a chuckle and a groan.

“Five more minutes.”

“No. I’m up so you should be up, too.”

“Oh, is that how this works?” He peeks up at you, one eye still squinted shut.

“Think so. I am the guest of honor here, so you should probably do what I say.”

“Guest of honor, my ass.”

“I’m not the one sleeping on the floor, so I think that puts me a step above you.”

“Please. I’m only down here because of you.”

You laugh. “Why? Were you worried I might have nightmares out here by myself?”

“No, I thought you’d be fine.” He sits up, stretching his arms and back, which are surely stiff from sleeping on the carpet all night. “You’re the one that asked me to stay with you.”

Your cheeks suddenly warm and your eyes widen. “...I did?”

He nods. “Yeah, I was going to head in because I thought you were asleep, but the second I stood up you asked me to stay. So I stayed.”

“Shit, Kino, I was drunk. You didn’t have to do that for me.” You frown. “You’re probably stiff as hell because of it.”

Kino just shrugs. “Well, now you know what I’m willing to do for you.”

“Would you be willing to make me some eggs?”

With a broad smile, Kino stands. “Anything for you, dear.” And then he pushes you back onto the couch, giggling like a maniac as he runs for the kitchen.

“Shithead!”

***

You’re grateful to find Changgu at the reception desk on Monday. You never actually sent the apology text that you drafted, and at this point it’s probably better to just do it in person - no matter how embarrassing it might be.

“Hey, Changgu.” You approach the desk, greeting him quietly. Shyly.

He looks up from the computer, eyebrows lifting in surprise before a smile settles on his lips. “Quite the weekend, huh?”

Oh, he has no idea. “You’re telling me.”

“How can I help you?”

“I wanted to apologize for everything. You guys could have all had a perfectly good time without me. I shouldn’t have lied to you about my age.”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t do that too often. But I’m not going to lecture you.”

“Thanks.” You shift your weight awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. “Anyway, I really appreciate you inviting me to the jazz club, and getting me into the jazz band practice. I really enjoyed it. Both of those things.”

“It’s not a problem.” Changgu smiles warmly. What a gentle ray of sunshine he is. Then he grabs a stack of post-it notes and scribbles something down before handing it over. “I’m supposed to give you this.”

“Oh?” You look at the square of paper to find what looks to be a phone number.

“From Yanan. You don’t have to text him if you don’t want to. He can be a little forward sometimes, but he won’t be weird about it if he doesn’t hear from you. He just always has to try, you know?”

“Oh. Okay.” You slip it into your pocket, not exactly sure what you want to do with it. “Um, I should probably get going. Class and all. You know.”

As you turn to head out, he calls your name. “_____?”

“Yeah?” You look back at him.

If you’re not mistaken, Changgu’s cheeks are the most delicate rose color. “Don’t forget that you have my number, too.”

Is he flirting?

You smile reassuringly. If Bad Choices is becoming your middle name, you may as well embrace it. “I won’t forget.”

***

Thursday afternoon, you find yourself in Professor Yang's office, as he requested. You feel surprisingly level-headed, but you do notice just a hint of nervousness in the back of your mind. After all, you’re getting over him - so you’re not quite over him yet. He’s still beautiful and tempting and damn him for wearing such a delicious cologne all the time.

Professor Yang sits across from you, behind his desk, as always. He’s looking through the two incorrectly-graded assignments you brought in, and he takes the time to correct them.

"I apologize. You were right about my miscalculations." He plugs the updated grades into his computer, and they hardly even affect your total grade. "I assure you that I'll take my time with your midterm and all other assignments from here on out."

"Thank you." You take back your labs and stuff them into your backpack. The midterm you took on Tuesday hadn't been terribly difficult and you're anticipating that you'll get a good grade anyway. But at least you know that he's aware of his mistakes so you won't have to confront him about it again (hopefully).

You stand, ready to leave now that your meeting’s purpose is complete, but he beckons you. "I need to speak with you about something else."

You meet his caramel eyes, and he's just as impossible to read as always. Begrudgingly, you fall back into your chair. "What is it?"

Professor Yang's tongue swipes over his lower lip, but in such a way to indicate that he's thinking, considering where to start. Still, it catches your attention, and you probably look at his lips a hair longer than you should. Damn him.

"About what you said this weekend..." He searches your face. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Why the fuck did he have to say that, of all things?!

"Okay," you spit out, trying to act aloof even though you're fucking mortified that he would even bring that up. You're sure that your furiously warming cheeks give you away. "Good for you."

Professor Yang looks dissatisfied. "Can we perhaps have an adult conversation about this?"

"I don't have to have anything with you." You cross your arms over your chest, defaulting to your usual sass mode that always seems to emerge around him.

His eyes narrow and he scoffs. "See, this is exactly why I said you needed to leave Saturday night. Do you at all notice the childish fit that you're throwing right now?"

With a roll of your eyes (yes, you realize that's still childish), you uncross your arms and take a deep breath. "Fine. Let's talk. What do you want?"

"I want to know what's going on with you. Why did you tell me to say hi to my girlfriend?"

The thing is, you know that he knows exactly why you said it. He just wants you to admit it out loud. "I was heated." That's as much as you'll give him.

"Is that why you left our last appointment? Because you were heated?" Professor Yang recalls the way you stormed off after seeing that woman in his office last week.

"You seemed busy."

"I wasn't. She was leaving."

"Whatever. I didn't feel like talking."

"Did you think she was my girlfriend?"

"I don't care who she is."

"She's my sister."

Somehow, that genuinely catches you off guard. You shift in your seat, curious. "You have a sister?"

Professor Yang nods calmly. "Two. Both younger than me. The sister that you saw was in town for a conference, and she just stopped in to visit. I don't get to see her very often."

Shit. Well that certainly explains why she was so gorgeous, since they share the same gene pool. You try to remain neutral about it all. "I'm glad you got to see her, then."

"The way you've reacted to her is very concerning." His brow furrows. "I knew this would be an issue if we tried to do a class together."

"This has nothing to do with you and me, okay? This..." you gesture between him and yourself, "...is nothing. You can date whoever you want. I literally don't care."

"You want me to believe that after the way you acted?"

"You think I'm jealous or something?" You scoff, laughing, but it's awkward and forced. He notices, and gives you the look of oh-please. Defensively you say, "I'm not jealous!"

Pause. A lull in conversation. You’re both aware that you’re lying, and it’s obvious that you will never admit to it, no matter what he says. You hold each others' gaze, and you wonder which of you will be the first to look away. And then he speaks.

"I wanted to tell you something else. Something honest. But I need you to not read into it, okay? Just take it at face value. Promise me you can do that."

Faintly, you notice the way your heart skips. "Okay. I promise."

"You obviously shouldn't have been at the club over the weekend, but I just thought you should know that you're a really talented pianist. I was very impressed to hear you play like that."

It hadn't even occurred to you that he was in the audience while you were playing. But now that he's acknowledging it, you feel retroactively nervous about your performance. "Thank you... I appreciate that."

He nods once and then turns to his computer, closing out of the grading screen and generally avoiding your gaze.

"I want to say something honestly, too." You get up the nerve to speak, but you have to hold your hands together to keep them from trembling. How could he affect you so much?

His gaze is so intense, full of warning. "Please be careful with whatever it is you want to say."

He doesn't trust you. You can't blame him. You don't really trust him either. You're both tiptoeing around very dangerous territory even allowing yourselves to be in the same room. But this time you want to share with him something genuine, something that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever may have transpired between the two of you in the past.

"I'm truly enjoying your class. And it's not because you're the one teaching it, I swear. The material is really interesting to me and I'm really looking forward to building my dulcimer."

He smiles, and it's almost unguarded. Like he's relieved that you didn't say something else. "That means a lot to me. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I’m not kidding when I say I've been looking forward to this class since I heard about it last year. And I think you're a great teacher, everything else aside."

"Thank you."

"Can I actually ask you a question? About building instruments and stuff."

He sits back a little, as if he's finally able to relax around you, now that you're actually acting like a student speaking with their teacher. "Of course."

"When did you start building instruments? And did you build that guitar?" You gesture to the instrument resting in the corner of the room, with its beautifully stained wood and delicate detailing around the sound hole.

“I did!” He lights up and stands, retrieving the guitar. “I built my first guitar when I was sixteen. Didn’t turn out that great because I was not very skilled. But after honing my craft for a few years, I saw more success in the instruments I built. This little lady came along just two years ago.”

“She’s beautiful,” you praise his handiwork. “Seriously. I’m impressed that it’s actually a handmade guitar.”

Professor Yang looks at you like you just sprouted a second head. “Of course it’s handmade. All of the best instruments are. You expect a machine to produce something that sounds like this?”

He strums the strings gently, an arpeggiated chord ringing sweetly through the room. The warm, buttery sound is enough to raise goosebumps on your arms.

“You’re right. No robot could ever make that.”

“This guitar is my heart and soul.” He smooths his hand over its curves lovingly.

“Can you play that? ‘Heart and Soul’?”

“Why on Earth would I want to play that atrocity on my masterpiece of an instrument? Absolutely not.”

You laugh. “Fair enough. Play something else, then. I want to hear what she can do.”

With no further prompting needed, he dives into a beautiful melody, plucking the strings softly and tapping his nails against the strings to create a beat. The sound is gorgeous, and it’s incredibly special to see him get swept up in the music he’s creating. He’s entirely focused on the movement of his fingers, the swell of each phrase, the gentle groove he’s creating.

Your eyes close so you can hear the music more deeply. It seeps into you, and you can feel him in each note. He is part of the music, giving himself to the melody and turning it into something beyond notes on a page. He breathes life into it.

The song ends, and you wish it never had to. You could listen to him play forever. In the end, all you can manage is a soft wow.

“Nice, right?” Professor Yang grins widely, clearly proud of himself.

“Seriously incredible. And you’re so good at playing it, too.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

You sit up a little more, interested. “The way you were tapping the strings… it reminds me of those people who can, like, play the strings and drum on the guitar body at the same time. Can you do that?”

“I used to. Let’s see…”

He plays something a little more upbeat this time, tapping his fingers, knuckles, and the heel of his palm against the guitar’s body as he strums. It’s not perfect and eventually he stumbles, but it’s still incredibly impressive.

With a short laugh, he gives up. “Like I said, I used to. It has been a while.”

“That’s probably the coolest thing in the world,” you laugh along with him. “I don’t know how you have enough coordination to do that.”

“It’s a skill. Like anything else, you just have to take the time to practice and learn.” Professor Yang drums his fingers against the wood softly. “Clearly I’m a little out of practice.”

“I mean, if you don’t have the time to grade my labs properly, I can’t imagine you have time to sit around drumming on your guitar.”

He cocks his head and purses his lips. “You try teaching a class at a university and we’ll see how easy it is for you to keep up with everything.”

“Hey, I’m not doubting the incredible stress you must be under.” You tease.

It hits you then how incredibly comfortable you feel with him, how easy it is to be with him unguarded. It’s really�� nice.

There’s a knock at the door, then, and Professor Yang glances at the clock on his desk. “Ah. Come in!”

The door opens to reveal another student - a boy from your class. “Hi, Professor.” He notices you still sitting in the office. “Am I too early for our meeting?”

Professor Yang reassures him, “Right on time, actually.”

You nod. “I was just getting ready to leave.” Grabbing your bag, you stand and address Professor Yang. “Thank you for meeting with me today. Really.”

“Not a problem. Thank you for making the time to stop in. I’m glad we got everything sorted out.” He nods once to you. “Have a good weekend and I’ll see you in class.”

“You, too.”

The two of you exchange a smile, and it feels delightfully innocent. It feels like it means something different, like an agreement to be okay with each other from now on. An agreement to not be at each others’ throats this semester. It gives you hope that you’ve finally broken through into a more peaceful part of your relationship as student and teacher.

This semester is going to be just fine.

***

“_____.”

Your eyes lift from the keyboard to find that the tallest human you know somehow snuck into the R&B Ensemble rehearsal without you noticing. You forgot that he was allowed to rejoin the group this week. “Oh. Hi.”

“...hi.” Wooseok tries to smile, but it’s small and awkward and he looks kind of concerned.

You haven’t spoken to him at all during the week or so that has passed since you made out with him. The only communication that happened was the text that you sent to let him know you had to cancel tutoring. He hadn’t responded, and now that you think about it, you probably should have reached out to him again at some point.

A smile pulls across your lips, although you’re sure it seems just as ingenuine as his. But if it’s ingenuine, it’s only because you’re actually wildly nervous about being in front of him again. From your seat on the piano bench, he towers over you, tall and handsome and… and he’s wearing that fucking jean jacket. It’s devastating.

The silence between the two of you stretches on for far too long, and he eventually gives up on having a conversation as he retreats to the drumset.

Yikes. You didn’t mean for that to get so weird.

Rehearsal goes much more smoothly now that Wooseok is back, and he drums like he never missed a single practice. Every rhythm and fill is spot on. The whole ensemble falls into a groove that’s just a little bit deeper, a little bit smoother than before. And you can tell that your instructor, Typhanie, is jazzed about it.

After rehearsal, Kino darts over to the keyboard. “_____, your solo was killer tonight!”

“You know I’d say the same to you, but I compliment you every week and eventually you’re going to get a big head about it.”

He pouts. “Nonsense. Compliment me.”

You rise to your feet and pat his head twice. “Well done.”

Kino rolls his eyes, but his smile is bright. He nods his head in the direction of the door, tugging on your sleeve absentmindedly. “Come on, let’s go. I want to ask you something.”

You grab your things and follow him. “Alright. Go on.”

“So, um, two-fold question.” He pushes the door open, and ushers you out of the room. “First, are you free this weekend? Specifically Saturday night?”

“I think so. Are we gonna do something?”

“Yeah, I just wanted-”

“_____! Hold up!” Wooseok’s voice precedes him down the hall as he comes thundering after you. Both you and Kino pause as he approaches. “Sorry, can I talk to you? Please?”

You look over at Kino, who wears a slight frown. As much as you don’t want to do this to Kino, you know you really should talk with Wooseok. “Can I catch up with you later?”

Kino cocks his head, like he’s surprised you would choose Wooseok over him. But you’re not choosing Wooseok over him, you just… you just have to do this. Kino throws on a half-hearted smile and says, “Sure. Later.”

Wooseok pulls you aside as Kino departs, heading down a different hallway to get you away from the other students leaving rehearsal. You don’t protest, but you tell yourself that you will if he tries anything funny.

“What is it?” you ask, knowing full well what this conversation is going to be.

“I was kind of hoping you could tell me.” Wooseok expression is unsettled. “I’ve been dying to talk to you, but I thought you might need space, since you just kind of stormed off and then immediately canceled tutoring.”

Oh shit. You didn’t mean for it to come off that way. You canceled because of Professor Yang, not because things were weird between you and Wooseok. Nevertheless, you had run out of his apartment without any kind of explanation, and that is entirely your fault. “I’m sorry I left like that. And I swear, I didn’t cancel tutoring because of… everything. Something else came up. That’s all.”

The gentle giant takes a deep breath, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. We were both a little drunk and I shouldn’t have taken it so far. If you don’t ever want to be around me again, I understand. But I just wanted to talk to you about it and let you know that I’m sorry. Honestly.”

Your chest warms. It’s so sweet that he’s worried about you, but it’s also unnecessary. There’s nothing for him to be worried about. “It’s okay. Really. You have nothing to feel bad about. I… I wanted it. And I liked it.” You have to look away from him as you admit it.

It feels like a weight is lifted between you. “I did, too. You’re a good kisser.” He chuckles softly, his hands shyly slipping into his pockets.

“Not so bad yourself,” you chime, still avoiding his gaze. “Um, so even though I enjoyed it, I just felt kind of confused after? I’m…” Go on. You can say it. “I’m getting over someone. So I didn’t know what to feel about all of it. Other than fucking mortified because of your roommate.”

“Don’t worry about him. I promise he doesn’t care.”

Finally, you look up at him. He really is quite handsome, and you fully understand why your drunk self had enjoyed him so much.

“But I totally understand. I didn’t assume that it meant anything, but thanks for letting me know. Oh, by the way…” Wooseok drops his backpack from his shoulder and unzips one of the small side pockets. “I brought something for you.”

You accept the square of tissue, confused about what he could possibly be giving you - until you unwrap it. He had nicely folded your abandoned underwear to return to you, which is simultaneously embarrassing and sweet.

“Oh my God,” you mumble as you recognize the underwear, a stupid little chuckle leaving you. “I… um, thank you.”

“I’ve gotta be honest, I thought about keeping them.”

“W-what?”

Wooseok shrugs nonchalantly, a goofy grin on his face. “I mean, it’s kind of hot to have a girl’s panties. And they’re cute.”

“You really have no filter.” You stuff the panties into your own backpack, flustered.

“Just wanted to see your reaction,” he laughs. “Worth it.”

“Glad you thought so. Can we head out now?”

“Mm.” He nods once, and you both head for the stairs. “So, just to make sure we’re both on the same page, I still want to be your friend and I don’t expect anything else from you.”

“Agreed.” You smile, grateful that he’s so considerate about all of this. But against your better judgment, your words don’t stop there. “But if it happens again…”

Wooseok freezes a few stairs ahead of you, turning to face you exactly at eye level. He peers at you curiously. “If it happens again...?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. You can’t turn back now, so you may as well embrace it. “Then it happens. But I’m not just a booty call, so don’t even think about treating me that way.”

“So…” He moves up a step towards you, regaining a few inches of height. His voice is low as he asks, “...what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying… if it feels right and we’re in the moment, then it is what it is.” You know that you’re still being incredibly vague, but you just can’t bring yourself to say I’m down to fuck if you are. “But no catching feelings because I’m still trying to sort mine out.”

“Right, with the guy you’re getting over and everything.” Wooseok leans in a little, the smallest smirk on his lips. “So I shouldn’t call you up out of the blue. But if we’re both here, and we’re both in the moment…”

He leans in further, and you realize he’s going in for a kiss the second he grabs your hand. But you’re all too aware of the fact that you’re standing on the main staircase of the music building, and anyone could walk past you at any time.

You shake off his hand and put your hand on his chest, holding him back. “Not here, idiot. Someone might see!”

He grins mischievously and shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

After that, Wooseok walks you all the way to your dorm, and he’s a total gentleman. He stands with you in front of your building for a moment, his hands buried in his pockets.

“Just so you know, you’re welcome to come over to my place whenever,” he offers. “Even if you just want to hang out. We could play games or something. We’re friends, after all.”

“That we are. Thanks.” You hold your fist out for him to bump. “See you at tutoring on Thursday, if not before then?”

“Yeah.” He bumps your fist with his own and smiles sweetly. “Catch you later.”

As he walks off, you’re actually really pleased with the way things turned out. Although you didn’t expect to actually bring up the whole maybe-we-could-do-this-again thing, it excites you that he’s at least open to the idea. Who says you can’t have a fling?

You head upstairs and open the door to your room, and you remember that Kino was in the middle of asking you something when he left - and he didn’t seem too pleased by the interruption. So… maybe you should call him to see what’s going on. You do feel kind of bad that he had to leave on his own.

You’re not sure why your impulse is to call and not text, but he answers the phone before you can really question it too much. “Hey, _____.”

“Hey, Kino. Did you make it home?”

“Yeah.”

“Go to your window and look up at my building.”

“...Okay…”

You flicker your bedroom light on and off to catch his attention. “Do you see my room? With the flashing light.”

A quiet chuckle comes across the line. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Now show me where you are.”

A short moment later, you notice one of the windows on the building across the street repeatedly light up and go dark. “Found you!”

“What’s this all about?”

You watch as his silhouette reappears in the window. “You didn’t get to ask me your question. I wanted to know what it was.”

“Oh.” He drags his hand through his hair. “So, I haven’t told you yet, but a piece that I choreographed is going to be performed at the Dance Department Showcase.”

“What? Kino, that’s amazing!” It’s not easy to get work presented at a department-wide showcase, so you know that it’s a huge accomplishment for him. “I’m so proud of you. Oh my gosh, that’s so cool.”

“Thank you! Thank you.” Kino laughs, pleased at your reaction. “So… the showcase is this Saturday night and I’m freaking out. I’m not performing, but I’m still incredibly nervous because it’s like… this project, this baby of mine… it’s being put on display and it’s going to be critically watched by all of my peers and professors. It’s just such a big deal.”

“Can I come?” The question eagerly bursts out of you. You would absolutely love to see what he’s capable of choreographing. If it’s anything like his dancing and singing, you know it’ll be awesome. But then you realize that he’s already freaking out about the people in the audience… maybe you shouldn’t add to that stress. “Actually, would that make it worse? I don’t want to stress you out more by being there.”

“No, no, not at all. That’s actually why I brought it up. I want you to come with me.”

You lean against your window, playing with the hem of your shirt. “I would be honored to go with you.”

He exhales deeply. “I think I’m going to feel much better with you there. Thank you.”

“Of course! What are friends for?”

“Exactly.” Kino’s hand comes to rest on the glass, like he’s reaching out to you. “I’ll see you Saturday, then. Well, and probably before then, too.”

You touch your window, too. “Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, _____.”

“Night, Kino.”

***

Your class with Professor Yang has officially moved over to the woodshop, now that your midterms are done. He had gone over standard dress code the week before (no loose, drapey clothing or open-toed shoes), but you hadn’t realized that he would be dressed differently as well.

Up until this point, you’ve only seen him in dress slacks and button-downs. But now that he’s teaching a woodworking class, he’s dressed way more casually than you expected. It makes sense that he would dress down, but it still surprises you to see him in jeans and a fitted t-shirt. His hair is swooped up and back, exposing his forehead and keeping his hair out of his eyes.

It would be great if you could go a day without drooling over him. Seriously.

Professor Yang goes over the basics of the woodshop with everyone, explaining some of the general tools you’ll all use regardless of instrument. You’ve never used any sort of woodworking tools before, and it makes you a little nervous to think that you’ll be responsible for keeping your fingers intact while sawing away at the body of your dulcimer, but you know he’s there to help if you’re struggling (or injured).

If nothing else, you and Shinhye can struggle together.

Beside you, Shinhye observes the slab of wood that is to be the neck of her cigar-box banjo. Her calculations are all finished and she knows exactly how far apart to mark each fret along the neck, but she hesitates. “I don’t know man, I’m going to fuck this up for sure.”

“Look, all you have to do is mark it with pencil, and then Professor Yang will come to check your work. Just don’t make any cuts into the wood without his approval and you’ll be fine.” You start marking up the wood that you’ve been given, confident in your math.

As you measure and make your marks, your ears tune in to the music Professor Yang plays throughout the workshop. He’s playing an old rock station, to be expected, and you perk up when a certain Aerosmith song comes on.

A smile grows on your face as Steven Tyler starts singing, and you remember when you sang “Dream On” in Professor Yang’s office.

You glance up to the front of the room to find Professor Yang looking right at you with a stupid grin on his dumb little face.

Oh, he remembers, too.

You struggle to hide your laughter as he breaks into a huge smile. What a loon you are.

“What are you giggling about?” Shinhye questions, still concentrated way too hard on her little pencil marks.

You’re about to respond with a simple nothing, but then she tucks her short hair behind her ear, revealing a purplish mark just under her jaw. “Oh my God, Shinhye, is that a hickey?”

She looks up at you like a deer in headlights, quickly ruffling her hair out with her fingers. “You didn’t see that.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course I fucking saw that.” With a shit-eating grin, you lean in close. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hooking up with someone? I need to know these things!”

“It’s not important! I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Dude. Fine. I’ll give you a pass since we’re in class right now but you need to dish later.” Shinhye looks disgruntled at your demand, and you try to make her feel better about the whole situation. “Look, I’m proud of you. I never thought this day would come and I just want to know what happened! This is kind of a big deal.”

“It’s really not.” She rolls her eyes.

A third voice joins the conversation. “How are we doing over here?” Professor Yang stands next to Shinhye, looking over her work.

“Oh, perfect timing. I think I’m just about done. Can you check my marks?” Shinhye hands over her wood, seemingly grateful for the change of topic.

He takes a moment to check her math, but not her measurements. “Your math is good, so as long as you measured according to your numbers you’ll be good to go.”

You don’t even have to ask - he immediately picks up your scrap paper to check your math, too. It astounds you that he doesn’t feel the need to pick up a calculator, as if he could do all of the calculations in his head.

“Your math looks good, too.” He sets your paper down. “Go ahead and put your frets in.”

You cock your head, still surprised that he could be so good at math. “You can do all that math without a calculator?”

“I do have a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree in Mathematics, so believe it or not, I don’t really need a calculator.” His voice is touched with sass, as if to say I’m your teacher and I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you.

But you can’t help the question. This man has not one but two math degrees, and he still fucked up your grades? The probability of that being an accident is practically zero - as you’re sure Mr. Math Wiz would agree.

So it must have been intentional. No matter how much he denies it.

It doesn’t seem like he was doing it to punish you, though. It doesn’t seem to have any purpose besides getting your attention.

Getting you into his office.

Getting you one-on-one.

And he succeeded - you sat in his office with him for a solid half hour as he re-graded your papers and chatted. He hadn’t tried to make a move or anything, so why did he want that alone time with you?

Could it be as innocent as just wanting to spend time together?

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself. I’m getting over him. He doesn’t want anything from me, and I don’t want anything from him. The past is the past and I’m moving on.

You avoid his gaze for the rest of class.

***

Wooseok sits next to you in the practice room, working diligently on the exercises you’ve given him regarding figured bass. Overall, not at all an important concept for him as a drummer, but it’s definitely going to be on his final and he needs to know it for the sake of his grade.

You don’t know if it’s just because the nature of your relationship has changed, but you’ve felt so distracted through the whole session by how cute he looks. His hair is ruffled and he’s not wearing anything different than what he usually wears, but he just looks so damn attractive.

You know you shouldn’t say anything. You should let him work like the good little tutee he is. But since when do you pay attention to what you should and should not do?

“I think tutoring you is going to become increasingly more difficult.”

He pauses, his pencil still in his hand as he meets your gaze. “Why’s that? Because of the material? I feel like I’m actually doing pretty well.”

“No, idiot. Because, well…” Jesus, you never really know what to say in these situations. “Things are different between us now, you know?”

“It’s not that different.”

You can tell by the face he’s making that he’s teasing you. “It is! Don’t make me feel stupid.”

“You’re the one calling me an idiot!”

“It’s a term of endearment.”

“How sweet.” Wooseok shifts in his seat, turning towards you and placing his arm across the back of your chair. “So you’re flirting with me?”

“That may or may not be true.”

His fingers brush gently over your shoulder as he silently watches you, letting the air between you thicken with the thought that it would be so easy to close the gap.

Really, there’s nothing stopping you anyway.

“Wooseok… Have you done something like this before?” You ask before you convince yourself to cross the threshold. “Being friends with benefits and all of that?”

“No, actually.” Wooseok’s fingers reach your collar bone, delicately tracing the peaks and valleys. “I don’t have much experience with girls. I had a girlfriend in high school, but that’s it.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Dating’s not my priority.”

“Is this something you want, though?”

“Well yeah. I probably said it when I was drunk, but you’re really cool and you’re hot, so of course I’m down. This is totally different from dating.” He tilts his head minutely. “Have you done this before?”

Almost instantly, an image of Professor Yang flashes in your mind. “Not technically a friends with benefits situation, but I have hooked up before.”

“How’d it go? Were you okay with keeping it casual?”

Big fat fucking no, you were not okay with keeping it casual. Well, maybe you would have been if he hadn’t turned out to be your teacher. Things might have been so different. But the fact of the matter is that you’ve been an absolute wreck for the last two months because of your failure to keep it casual.

You’re fully aware of the fact that you should be honest about your hookup history. You should tell Wooseok that you most definitely caught feelings the last time you hooked up. It’s your duty to stop this trainwreck before it happens.

But… that means that you wouldn’t be able to hookup with Wooseok. And you really want to hookup with Wooseok right now.

“Yeah, it was totally fine,” you lie through your teeth. “No problems at all.”

“Cool.” He reaches out to cup your face. “Let’s stop talking about it then.”

As if they have always belonged together, your lips meet his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, and his hand is warm on your cheek. It feels so, so good to give in to your urges, to do what you want instead of overthinking. A friends-with-benefits situation is exactly what you need.

You don’t stay in your chair much longer as you continue to kiss. His lap is a much more appealing seat. Without pulling away from his lips, you get up and straddle him, your hands sliding behind his neck.

Wooseok’s teeth bite down on your lip and his large hands are quick to venture into less innocent territory. His fingers slip down your sides and into the back pockets of your jeans, cupping your ass and giving a gentle squeeze. You roll your hips to show him that you’re pleased, and he lets out the quietest groan.

“Be careful moving your hips like that,” he warns against your lips, “or you’re signing yourself up for a whole lot of trouble.”

You smirk and roll your hips again as you say, “Maybe I want trouble.”

He responds by claiming your lips, his tongue diving deep into the cavern of your mouth as his fingers dig hard into your ass cheeks.

You feel so alive. And so blissful - especially as you feel him start to harden through his jeans. The extra friction provided by rubbing against his thickness is absolutely delicious, and you shamelessly grind against him.

It’s clear that Wooseok is enjoying himself, too. He kisses you deeply as you grind, and his hand sneaks under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way so that he can pinch and rub your nipple.

You moan for him, careful to stay quiet - the sound proofing in the practice rooms isn’t perfect, after all. But you sigh and groan to let him know that you feel amazing and you love everything he’s doing to you. You would be totally content to just stay like this for the rest of your session, and it doesn’t seem like Wooseok would mind.

Unfortunately, though, you know this can’t last forever - you have to leave soon for your piano lesson. But he’s just such a good kisser…

You’re not sure what causes it, but suddenly the mood changes. His hurried kisses and touches melt into something much softer. Wooseok’s hand migrates to the small of your back, pulling you in close and embracing you as he kisses you.

It’s mind-numbingly sweet, and you hold him tight, too.

With one last kiss, you part, but you rest your forehead on his as you catch your breath and try to process how he could be such a phenomenal kisser.

“What are you doing after this?” Wooseok asks, his voice low - and you know exactly why he’s asking.

“Piano lesson,” you huff quietly.

“Skip it.” Kiss. “Come back to my place.”

“Ugh, I wish. But I can’t. My lessons are important.” Your fingers glide through his soft hair, your gaze connecting with his sweet eyes. “What about tonight?”

Wooseok shakes his head as his fingers drum a rhythm against your spine. “Minho’s having some guys over. Tomorrow?”

“Girl’s night with my roommate.” You sigh. Who knew it would be so difficult to find time to hook up?

“I’m pretty sure Minho said he was going out of town this weekend, so we’d definitely have the place to ourselves.”

That sounds like a blessedly perfect scenario. “I have a thing with Kino on Saturday, but I could come over later that night?”

“Stellar. I’ll make sure Minho is out of the apartment.” Wooseok presses another kiss to your lips before helping you stand up. “You should probably get going though, since you have your lesson. Right?”

You glance at the clock on the wall and realize you have exactly thirty seconds to get downstairs. “Shit. Yeah, I have to run.”

Wooseok helps you gather your things. “I’ll see you Saturday night then?”

You hoist your backpack onto your shoulder and run a finger down Wooseok’s torso. “You bet.”

***

“Remind me why we’re doing this,” you grumble as you follow Nailah and Shinhye through the gym locker room on Saturday morning. Being physically active has never been your favorite thing, yet Nailah has managed to drag you along.

“Cute boy. You love cute boys, don’t you?” Nailah turns, tucking you under her arm and leading you over to the row of lockers. “This is all for you, baby.”

“But whyyyyy…”

“_____, exercising is good for you.” Shinhye tries to boost your morale as you each claim a locker, tossing your gym bags but keeping your water bottles in hand. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

“Since when have you become such a gym rat? Little Miss I-Live-On-The-Couch.” You tease her. She never seems to be interested in working out, but she looks like a total natural in her mid-calf leggings and moisture-wicking tank top.

She shrugs, touching the outer rim of her glasses to push them further up her nose. “I don’t know, I just go when Nailah invites me. And I think it’s actually pretty fun.”

“Yeah, Shinhye’s a great gym partner. She doesn’t complain.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring Nailah. “So have you seen this cute guy, then? Is it worth the effort?”

Shinhye shakes her head. “We’ve never seen him when I come along.”

“Okay, hold on.” You close your locker, realizing that this mystery cutie hasn’t been spotted in quite some time. “Are you telling me that it has probably been, like, a month and a half since you last saw him? Does he even go to this gym anymore?”

Nailah sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t know, _____. But we’re here now, so we may as well sweat a little.” She lifts her shirt up over her head, so she’s just in her spandex shorts and a sports bra. The shirt gets tossed into her locker and she holds out her hand to you. “Give me your shirt.”

“What?”

“Do it. We’re gonna go out there looking hot so you can seduce cute guy.”

“He’s probably not even out there!”

“Come on. It’s not even a big deal.” She gestures for you to hand her your shirt, and you begrudgingly do as she asks.

“What about you, Shinhye?” You ask as your shirt disappears into Nailah’s locker.

Her face reddens. “Isn’t it weird to just wear a bra?”

“Not at all,” Nailah reassures her, closing her locker and patting Shinhye on the head as she walks away. “But don’t worry, my little Shinhye doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

You notice Shinhye’s eyes grow wide and her blush deepen, and look at her quizzically. What the hell is that reaction all about? She just avoids your gaze and tails after Nailah.

As you follow them into the equipment room, you try not to feel embarrassed about your lack of shirt. It’s not that unusual for a girl to work out in just her bra and shorts, but you don’t feel particularly confident since you are bound to make a fool out of yourself on the machines, anyway.

The three of you head for the stationary bikes on the opposite side of the room, scoping out all of the other gym-goers along the way. When you reach the bikes, Nailah turns on her heel and pulls you and Shinhye in close.

“Don’t make it obvious, but he’s here. He’s at the bench press.”

What are the odds that he would actually be here today? You take a swig from your water bottle before setting it next to one of the bikes and casually turning around to try to spot him.

Shinhye finds him first. “Oh my God. Him?” She bursts into laughter. “Nailah, you don’t know who that is, do you?”

“Should I?”

“He teaches at our school! _____ and I are both in his class!”

“What?!” You and Nailah respond simultaneously, both for different reasons. Is it really him?

Your eyes scan over the weight machines, and just as you spot the row of bench presses, he sits up and wipes the sweat from his brow with a hand towel.

Fucking Professor Yang is sitting halfway across the room, biceps bulging, a delicious V of sweat forming on the chest of his muscle shirt.

God, you wish you could just melt into a puddle and disappear from this world.

“No way.” Nailah chuckles. “He’s a Professor? Oh, this is gold.”

Shinhye starts giggling, too. “Yeah, and _____ totally has a crush on him. You should have seen them in class this week.”

“Well just look at her now.”

You finally snap out of your trance. “I do not!”

“No shame, girl.” Nailah smirks as she settles onto a bike. “We’ve all had an innocent crush on a teacher before.”

Oh, if only she knew how not innocent this was.

“Yeah, no shame.” Shinhye chimes, climbing onto the bike next to Nailah.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t we stretch first?” You quickly change the subject. You’re going to spend the rest of this hour pretending like the world’s most handsome professor isn’t over there keeping up his gorgeous physique with which you are unfortunately quite familiar.

“It’s bad to stretch cold, so we do an easy five-minute ride just to get things warmed up a bit.” Nailah states.

“Alright, then.”

So you bike, stretch, and tackle a few machines - and you’re incredibly aware of the fact that Nailah’s routine is strategically getting you closer and closer to wherever Professor Yang is stationed.

You trail along behind her from machine to machine, and next thing you know you’re headed straight for him.

As the three of you approach, you hope and pray that he doesn’t notice you. And when you look over, you’re blessed. He grabs the bottom of his shirt and lifts it to wipe his face, but you’re too distracted by his abs to be grateful for his blocked view of you.

Professor Yang is absolutely chiseled under his muscle shirt, and you shouldn’t even be surprised. You’ve seen him shirtless before, you’ve felt the ripples of his muscles, but you’re still taken off guard by the body that hides beneath his clothes.

The glimpse of his abs is so distracting that you actually forget how you’re supposed to act around him. He drops his shirt and looks up just as you’re passing him, and you unintentionally flash him a coy smile. When his eyes widen as he recognizes you, you realize that you do not want to try to look cute right now.

Well, you want to, but you shouldn’t.

Somehow that doesn’t stop you.

Professor Yang’s eyes travel down your body, taking in your shirtless state. But you don’t feel shy or nervous - you feel weirdly confident, and you walk with a little extra sass in the swing of your hips. You hope with all of your might that he’s as flustered by the sight of you as you always are by him.

If your appearance gets to him at all, he certainly doesn’t make it known. Without any hint of what he might be feeling, he gets up and moves to a different machine farther down the row, and he doesn’t look back at you again.

Thankfully, it seems that Nailah and Shinhye did not notice anything that just happened, but you feel suddenly embarrassed about strutting past him the way you did. You need to step out for a second and collect yourself.

“I’m going to grab some more water.” You hold up your mostly empty water bottle for the two girls to see and tear off before either one of them can offer to come along.

That was so dumb. Why did you react that way when he saw you? You know better. You should be avoiding him at all costs, because you’re getting over him. You’ve got Wooseok to keep you entertained now, so you can finally let go of Professor Yang.

He just looked so good… and you want the confidence boost of knowing he thinks you look good, too.

But the thing is, though, you know that he thinks you look good. He’s made it kind of obvious throughout the semester that he’s still attracted to you, so you’re positive that he must have felt something when he saw you in your tight leggings and sports bra. He’s just really good at masking it.

You fill up your bottle and take a sip from it as you turn around, and you accidentally bump into a warm, solid body that immediately fills you with dread.

“_____.”

You’re surprised by the face you see when you look up - this is not the human you were expecting. “Yuto?”

He has a black bandana rolled up and tied across his forehead, and honestly it’s a look. Yuto hardly gives you so much as a smile before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder, gently pushing you aside so he can access the water fountain.

“I didn’t know you worked out here.”

He stands upright after taking a leisurely drink, looking you up and down. “I didn’t know you worked out. Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

“Don’t be rude, asshole.” You huff, stalking off towards the weight room. You don’t need to deal with him if he’s going to be a jerk.

“Hey, wait.” Yuto catches up to you, matching your stride. “I just meant that I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah. Roommate dragged me along.”

“Nailah, right?” He points off to the left, and your eyes follow to that part of the room. Nailah’s hands rest on Shinhye’s hips, guiding your friend into the correct form for squats. You frown, worried about what that could mean.

If she’s starting to crush on Shinhye, she really needs to cut it out before she gets herself hurt. Shinhye’s straight - she’s not going to reciprocate any of Nailah’s feelings. And really, Nailah needs to make sure she’s not making Shinhye uncomfortable by being too forward with her flirting.

“That’s her.” You can’t help your frown as you beeline for them.

“Wait, wait.” Yuto grabs your arm. “I need to talk to you.”

Surprised, you pause. “What about?”

“Wooseok.”

Your frown deepens. Does he know about your agreement? “What about Wooseok?”

“Be careful with him. He’s a kid.”

“We’re the same age...? What are you getting at?”

“He’s naive, okay?” Yuto looks frustrated that you don’t understand what he’s trying to say. “Just try not to hurt him. He’s a lot more delicate than he seems. He told me about you two, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s none of your business what we decide to do.” You scoff. “But yeah, okay, I’m the Big Bad Meanie here so I’ll be ‘gentle’ or whatever.”

Yuto’s voice noticeably softens when he realizes you’re upset. “_____…”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you.” You brush off his hand. “Have a good workout.”

You stomp back over to your friends, and they both watch you quizzically as you approach.

“What was that all about?” Nailah asks.

“It’s nothing.” Your first instinct is to just dismiss all of it, but these are two of your best friends. They deserve to know at least a little bit of the boy drama in your life - but you don’t want to spill the tea in the middle of the gym. “I’ll fill you in later.”

Shinhye chimes in, “Professor Yang left while you were gone. We thought you might run into him out there.”

“No, I didn’t see him. Just Yuto.”

“Who’s Yuto?” She asks. “The guy you were just talking to?”

Nailah responds for you, nodding. “He’s our neighbor, right across the hall.”

“Oh.” Shinhye chews timidly on the inside of her cheek. “He’s kind of cute, too.”

“Shinhye! I didn’t know you liked dark, brooding boys.” Nailah reaches out to smooth Shinhye’s hair, and Shinhye blushes.

“Apparently you really don’t know her type, Nailah.” There’s a slight edge to your voice as you say it. It’s just so weird to see Nailah being so forward with Shinhye, and you feel the need to stop it. Shinhye isn’t particularly vocal, so she probably won’t say anything if she’s feeling uncomfortable.

Seems like you’ll have to have a chat with Nailah later.

***

Kino meets you in your dorm’s lobby at exactly 6:15pm. Doors open for the dance department showcase in fifteen minutes, and you can sense the energy bubbling out of him when he arrives.

“Hi.” He bounces slightly, standing still for a moment before pulling you into a hug.

“Hi,” you echo, a small smile spreading across your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. Oh my God, I’m nervous. But let’s not talk about that because I’ll literally die before the show.”

“My CPR skills aren’t exactly stellar, so I guess we should probably do what we can to keep you alive before that becomes necessary.”

“Good call.” He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the building and into the brisk night air. “You look really nice, by the way.”

“Thank you!” You look down at yourself, taking a second to button up your jacket over the burgundy dress and black tights you’ve chosen for the evening. Your heels click along the sidewalk as you walk, and then you realize how Kino is dressed; his burgundy pants didn’t immediately draw your attention, but you have to laugh at the coincidence now that you’ve noticed. “Oh my God, are we actually matching?”

Kino nods, laughing. “Yeah, we are.”

So this is what it feels like to wear a couple’s outfit... Obviously you’re not a couple, but it’s still kind of cute that you’ve got similar tastes in clothes.

Kino is oddly quiet as you make your way towards the theater, and you know it’s just because of his nerves. You speak up to try to distract him. “Is your family coming tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t invite them.”

“Oh.” That surprises you. “Why not? This is a big deal. I’m sure they’d love to be here.”

“I don’t really want to talk about that right now.” Kino frowns slightly, clearly bothered by the topic.

Has something happened? He never really talks about his family, so you don’t know what his relationship with them is like.

Wait - he has talked about them before. You remember the first night you talked to him after R&B Ensemble practice, when you both bonded over your unsupportive parents. How could you be careless enough to forget something like that? Are you really that distracted by your own life?

“I’m sorry, Kino. I shouldn’t have brought that up.” You link your arm with his. “I’m here to support you no matter what.”

“Thanks, _____.” He smiles slightly. “And no worries. It’s fine.”

To keep the mood light, you chat with him about your excursion to the gym this morning, leaving out the parts about Professor Yang, of course. Mostly, you just complain about how you have to use the baby weights because everything else is too heavy.

Thankfully you can keep him chuckling until you’re seated in the theater and the lights go down, signaling the start of the show. That’s when the terror sets in - Kino takes a deep, nervous breath, and his leg bounces wildly as the first performers step on stage. His piece isn’t until a little later on in the show, but you know he’s going to feel anxious until then.

Normally it doesn’t bother you when someone else bounces their leg, but his movement shakes your chair and you don’t want to sit through the whole show like that. Without even thinking about it, you place your hand on his thigh, squeezing gently to grab his attention. His movement stalls and he stares at you wide-eyed.

You lean in so he can hear you whisper over the music. “It’s gonna be great, okay? Everyone’s going to love your piece.”

Kino’s gaze flits between your eyes, and it occurs to you just how close your faces are. Then his hand covers yours, and he smiles. “I was right to bring you along.”

His attention returns to the stage and he seems much calmer now, but you struggle to focus on the dancers. Your whole consciousness is alert to the fact that his hand is so warm and secure around yours, and for some reason that makes your heart beat just a little bit faster.

All rational thought goes out the window. When the first performance ends, you don’t want to let his hand go. Kino notices the way you cling to his hand when he tries to let go to clap, and he gives you a funny look - not one of judgment, but one of curiosity.

You’re immediately embarrassed, so you let go and hurriedly clap before the applause ends.

It’s fine. You’re just friends. Friends can hold hands. It’s seriously not a big deal - worst case scenario, Kino’s just going to tease you a little bit after the showcase. You do your best to shake it off.

But then the applause ends, and Kino places his hand on your lap, palm up. It’s an invitation, and his smile makes it so that you cannot refuse. You interlace your fingers with his, your heart beating happily in your chest.

You don’t know what it means, or if it even means anything. But you’ll sort it out later.

That becomes your routine, your hands letting go only to clap between pieces and then quickly returning to each other. It feels foreign yet completely comfortable, exciting yet confusing.

And then he squeezes your hand tightly and leans over, whispering in your ear, “This one is mine.”

For just a brief second you think he’s talking about your hand, but then you realize that he means his piece is next. Your cheeks flush because of the way you misunderstood him, but you pretend that didn’t just happen and whisper back, “I can’t wait.”

A delicate piano melody guides the two male dancers on stage, but it isn’t until the lyrics kick in that you realize just how mournful the performance is going to be.

“Don’t know where I am with you Forgetting time and space with you Oh I wish we had a common view You see my red as blue I don’t belong in your universe For better or for worse…”

The dancers move fluidly across the stage, embodying the story of two people - maybe lovers, maybe friends - who want to be together despite the invisible force that’s keeping them apart.

“I’m the same but I’m bolder You get home, but I’m on my way out now Not the same destinations I will stay when you get off the train…”

No, they don’t want to be together. It’s not mutual - you see that now, how one dancer is caught in the other dancer’s world and he is trying to break free. Is this an abusive relationship?

“You’re safe as a mountain But know that I am dynamite Oh, oh, you’re safe as a mountain But know that I am dynamite…”

The pieces come together, and it suddenly makes sense. Maybe you’re making a huge assumption, but you can’t help but think that this is the story of Kino’s relationship with his family.

It moves you to tears, and you struggle to keep your composure. It feels like you’re watching a little piece of Kino’s soul through these dancers, and it’s devastating to think that someone as sweet and gentle as Kino would ever be caught in such a terrible situation. He deserves so much better than that. He deserves a family that loves him.

When the performance ends the whole audience applauds, but you can only look at Kino as he wipes away his tears, a melancholy smile on his lips.

***

Kino walks you back to your dorm, and you stop just outside the front door. You haven’t said much since the performance because he was immediately bombarded by other students and professors coming up to congratulate him. But now, you finally have his undivided attention.

“Your piece was absolutely beautiful,” you gently praise him. “I think you’re incredibly talented to draw that much emotion out of the audience. Seriously, it was incredible.”

“Thank you.” He looks down, his soft voice accompanied by a shy smile. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came with me tonight. Thank you so much for being there to support me.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Kino.” You pull him in for a hug, feeling proud of him and also feeling much closer to him than you were before.

When you pull away, he asks, “Do you want to maybe come over for a little bit? Just to hang out?”

That would be nice, but you remember your plans with Wooseok. For some reason, though, it doesn’t feel right to tell Kino about that. “Ah, I can’t. I told Nailah I’d spend time with her tonight.”

You immediately feel guilty about the lie, but Kino isn’t bothered by your excuse. “Have fun with her, then.”

He reaches out, his hand gliding down your forearm until his fingers interlace with yours. You look down at your intertwined hands, your pulse quickening just as it did in the theater. You’re not sure why you react that way. And then you feel the soft press of lips on your forehead.

Did…? Did Kino just…?

You look up at him, shocked. He had just kissed you. What was that all about?

His eyes scan your face, the sweetest, gentlest smile on his lips. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You nod, still kind of confused and surprised by what just happened. But he walks off before you can really process it, and you just stand there like an idiot for a minute or two.

Reading into it is probably the worst thing you could do. Kino is a touchy guy, so it shouldn’t seem unusual for him to kiss you on the forehead. It’s just a sweet, friendly gesture, right? He probably doesn’t mean anything by it, so you shouldn’t assume he does.

The last thing you want is to make things weird. He’s a great friend, and you don’t want to lose him. So you’re not going to make a big deal out of this.

Desperate for a distraction, you pull your phone out as you head inside. A few texts from Wooseok are waiting for you, just as you had expected.

Wooseok (8:13pm): Still want to come over?

Wooseok (8:13pm): Minho just left and won’t be back until tomorrow

You respond.

You (9:02pm): Of course. Just got back. Give me 10 to freshen up and I’ll be over.

Wooseok (9:02pm): I’ll give you 5

You (9:03pm): 7?

Wooseok (9:03pm): 6.5 starting now.

Wooseok (9:04pm): see u soon, short stuff 😘

***

You make it to his place in exactly seven minutes because you’re a glutton for punishment, but you think you’ve devised a plan to help you earn back his favor.

“You’re late.” He greets you at the door to his apartment.

“But I brought a gift.” You try your best to look cute as you hide the small ‘present’ behind your back. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

He looks suspicious, but he smiles slightly as he does what you ask. Into his large palms, you place the panties you’ve been wearing all day. If Minseo has taught you anything, it’s that men go crazy for a girl in a dress with nothing on underneath.

“You said you wanted to keep them, so these are for you.”

Wooseok’s eyes shoot open as he realizes it’s silky, lacy fabric puddled in his hands. He looks at them with a sly smile. “Are you wearing any right now?”

You just smile coyly and shake your head. Success.

“Christ, woman, get in here.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you inside, letting the door slam shut behind you. You don’t even have time to kick off your shoes before he picks you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his hips to hold yourself up.

Wooseok’s lips crash into yours like he can’t stand the thought of waiting one more second. He’s way too eager, but you could never complain. You love feeling so wanted.

He presses you against the wall and you lace your fingers into his hair, tugging gently as you bite his lower lip. A deep growl vibrates in his throat, and it immediately shoots pleasure straight to your core.

You let yourself moan as you feverishly return every kiss he offers. You just can’t get enough of him, and it’s making you crazy.

For just a second you pull away, but only because you need more. “Bedroom?” you pant.

Wooseok nods and carries you deeper into the apartment, throwing open the door to the bedroom and dropping you onto the bed.

“Hey! I’m not a doll!” You lecture him, but you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “Don’t toss me around like that.”

Wooseok just ignores you. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” His long fingers immediately find the buttons of your jacket, fiddling with one after the other until he pulls it off of you.

“It’s freezing outside! What did you expect? That I’d run across the street without a jacket on just so it would be easier for you to strip me? It’s bad enough that I came over without my tights on.”

“I mean… You probably would have gotten here when I asked you to if you hadn’t stopped to put a jacket on.” Wooseok runs his fingers over your bare thighs. “But next time, keep the tights on. They’re hot.”

“You’d like that?”

“Yeah, but you’re hot like this, too.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’d be hotter with your shirt off, if it counts for anything.”

“Sassy,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. Still hovering over you, he grabs the back of his collar and easily pulls the t-shirt over his head.

You’re right - you definitely like him better without the shirt. His torso and arms are nicely toned, and he just looks so good. Even his face is somehow more attractive than it’s ever been, and you know you’ve made the right choice in coming over here tonight.

You touch his cheek, and you can sense the depth behind his irises as his eyes scan your face. He’s fully present, and you just want to live in this moment with him.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” he asks.

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know, you’re just fucking cute.” Wooseok dives in, laying you back onto the bed as his lips connect with yours. His hand starts at your neck and runs down over your arm before transferring to your hip, his kiss overwhelming your senses. Everything about him feels so good, so nice.

As you wrap your limbs around him, you remember what Yuto said to you at the gym this morning.

Be gentle with him.

Try not to hurt him.

Even though it’s none of Yuto’s business, you can’t help but keep his warnings in mind. The last thing you want to do is hurt Wooseok. This is all supposed to be harmless fun, after all.

You press a hand to his chest, silently asking him to stop kissing you.

“You good?” Wooseok asks, concerned.

“Yeah! I just wanted to make sure… You’re totally cool with this, right? Like, with us just being friends and doing this for fun? This isn’t going to make anything weird, right?”

Wooseok shrugs calmly. “Yeah, it’s cool with me. I don’t mind it at all and I promise I won’t get weird around you. You cool?”

You nod. “I’m cool with it. I just needed to know we were still on the same page. I, um, ran into Yuto today…”

“Shit, did he say something?”

“He told me to be careful with you. Like he thought I was going to break your heart or something.” You search his eyes. “Also, not cool that you told him about us. I thought this was going to be a private thing.”

Wooseok closes his eyes, sighing quietly. “I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut. He’s my best friend and I tell him everything. I didn’t even think about it.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t go telling the rest of the school, okay?” You chuckle quietly, not quite realizing how much you sound like a certain Professor asking someone to keep things a secret.

“I won’t breathe a word of it to anybody else. I promise.” He smiles. “And don’t worry, I’m not gonna catch feelings.”

“Okay, I’m going to trust you on that. But if either one of us starts to feel something, we have to be honest and stop. Deal?”

“Deal. But, not gonna happen. You can’t lock me down, woman.”

You roll your eyes. “You can lock me down, tie me up, whatever you’re into…”

Wooseok lowers himself onto you again with a devilish grin. “You’re bad.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Probably just get you naked and plow you into tomorrow.”

Laughter bursts from you and you can’t control yourself. “Did you really just say that?”

He laughs too, never one to take himself too seriously. “Yeah, I think I did. That was pretty awful.”

You slide your fingers into his hair and pull him down to you, crashing your lips together now that your concerns are alleviated. Your body is already aching for release and you’ve hardly even started.

Wooseok’s large hands roam your body, gliding over your curves and massaging your chest. Your fingers trail down his back and the groan he emits is absolutely precious. It feels like it has been ages since you’ve gotten laid and suddenly you’re starving for it.

Every kiss fuels the fire burning deep within you, your core throbbing with want. Your legs are wrapped around his waist and you wiggle your hips in search of some sort of friction.

Wooseok gets the message loud and clear. His hand glides under the skirt of your dress in search of your folds, which are already delightfully wet by the time he reaches them. Even though you’re more than ready, he teases you, taking his time to caress your most sensitive spot.

A quiet moan escapes you, and you reach down between your bodies in search of his length. You just have to know what it feels like, what kind of fun you should expect for the rest of the night.

Your fingers brush over the front of his jeans until you find an unmistakable bulge, and he sighs deeply as you pass over it. The sound is actually really hot, and you know instantly that you need to get him naked.

“Take off your pants,” you murmur against his lips, your fingers already working to unfasten his jeans. You get the button and zipper of his pants undone, and he steps out of his pants and boxers all at once.

Seeing Wooseok naked is both weird and thrilling, and you realize how incredibly sober you are. The last time you were here in his apartment, you were both a little drunk. But this time you’re not inebriated in the least bit.

You definitely don’t need any alcohol to be convinced that you should have sex with this man right the fuck now.

“Condom?” You seriously hope that he has some, because you definitely didn’t think to bring one over.

“Yeah, hold up.” He opens the top drawer of his dresser and pulls out a rubber from his stash.

You pull him back down onto the bed as soon as he’s within reach, and he chuckles at your eagerness. You climb on top of him, kissing him passionately and wrapping your hand around his cock.

“I don’t want to wait,” you whine as you stroke him. He’s already incredibly hard, and he’s just the perfect size for you. Usually you would insist that foreplay is a good idea, but you are way too impatient at the moment. “I want you inside of me.”

“Then stop waiting.”

Wooseok tears open the condom packet and rolls it on, and you lift yourself up, lining him up with your entrance.

You let out a slightly strained breath as you slide down onto him, your walls stretching around his girth as you finally fill yourself with his cock. You unfortunately have to take it easy since you completely skipped the foreplay bit, but you slowly rock your hips, indulging in every bit of pleasure even the smallest movements bring you.

Eventually you’re able to increase your speed, and you lean back, helping his cock hit just the right spot inside of you, the spot that you know will leave you blinded with ecstasy.

You don’t even realize that you’re still in your dress until Wooseok’s hand pushes your skirt back, bunching it at your hip as you ride him. “Lemme see.”

He fixates on the place where your bodies connect, his gaze full of lust. The sight of him beneath you only serves to turn you on more, and it only gets more perfect when his thumb grazes over your clit.

“Oh my God, yes,” you murmur, placing a hand behind you to hold yourself up as you lean back more. Between Wooseok’s touch and the angle of his cock, you felt yourself very quickly becoming unraveled.

Wooseok’s fingers dig into your hip, his cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. Your walls contract tightly around him as you work yourself up, entirely obsessed with the beautiful pleasure pulsing through you.

“I’m… so close…” You moan for him. “Please, keep going. Don’t change a thing.”

He groans softly. “Already, baby?”

“It feels good,” your voice is absolutely blissful. “Count down from five. Slowly.”

It’s something you like to do when you masturbate - you’ve practiced orgasming on demand because there’s something you absolutely love about forcing yourself to hold off right when you’re ready to explode.

Wooseok doesn’t question. He just keeps rubbing circles into your clit, and he counts. “Five.”

Your chest is already growing warm, your abdomen tight.

“Four.”

You force yourself to take deep breaths, but they’re littered with moans.

“Three.”

Your pussy swells with pleasure, hot and electric.

“Two.”

“Fuck!” You can barely keep yourself together. “Please please please…”

“One, baby-”

“Oh!”

You don’t just explode - you burst like a fucking broken dam. Ecstasy overwhelms you as you unintentionally squirt all over Wooseok’s stomach. You’re an absolute gushing mess for him, but you’re too caught up in your pleasure to care. Your whole body feels bathed in sunshine and you’re convinced there is no better feeling than this.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

You’re brought back to reality when Wooseok finally speaks up. He looks absolutely shocked by what just happened, and you realize that you didn’t give him any sort of warning that you might soak him.

Panicked, you apologize. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up, you’re so fucking hot.”

Wooseok sits up and pulls you to him, kissing you more roughly than ever. You eagerly return each kiss, grateful that he’s not upset like you originally thought.

“Wooseok,” you smile against his lips at what you’re about to say. “I think now’s the time to get me naked and plow me into tomorrow.”

He laughs loudly, and his smile is adorable. “Hell yeah.”

In no time, your dress is on the floor and Wooseok has you pinned under him. Per his request you’re lying on your stomach, and he straddles your legs. He nestles his cock between your thighs, pressing into your slit with a pleased groan.

“Shit, you feel good.” He holds himself up on his forearms, and his lips find your shoulder as he thrusts into you. He starts slow but very quickly picks up the pace until you’re both panting.

You lift your hips as much as you can to meet him, your fingers deftly working your clit. A second orgasm is definitely feasible at this rate, but you’re not going to try to force it.

Wooseok leaves a trail of bites and sucks from your shoulder up your neck until he reaches your ear. He sucks your earlobe into his mouth, biting and toying with your earring as he pounds into you. The sensation drives you wild, and very suddenly you crash into another orgasm.

A weird half-squeak, half-moan comes out of you as you dissolve beneath him, and you hear a strange series of noises come from Wooseok, too. He starts to laugh, but it’s strained and broken up by strangled, awkward moans as he finishes - then he collapses on top of you, shaking with laughter.

You know he’s definitely laughing at the sound you made, and you’re definitely laughing at the way he just laughed through his orgasm. It’s just such a drastic change of mood, and it’s absolutely endearing the way he clutches onto you as he laughs.

Wooseok is everything you thought he might be in bed, and it doesn’t even phase you that your hookup ended in a less-than-hot circumstance. How could you be bothered when you’re laughing this hard?

Something about the laughter makes his embrace feel exceptionally warm. And you kind of adore that.

You feel lighter than you have in a while, even though you’re sort of being crushed by him.

“Can’t breathe!” You squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, rolling off of you and onto his back. “Hey, whatever the fuck that noise was, it was super cute.”

“I could say the same about your laughing orgasm,” you retort, scooting closer to him to indulge in his warmth.

Wooseok pushes your hair back, his dark chocolate eyes locking with yours. “It’s your fault I laughed through it. I don’t know how the hell your voice even got that high.”

Just for fun, you try to recreate the noise, reaching as high as you can through your vocal range to pull out the most ridiculous note you’re capable of. You both laugh at your attempt, and then Wooseok gives it a try - and somehow far surpasses whatever pitch you had managed.

His eyes get so wide you think they might just fall out of his head, and you laugh more hysterically than you ever have in your life. It has to be physically impossible for him to screech as high as he just did, but he succeeded!

“Wooseok, what the fuck?” It’s impossible to catch your breath, but you manage to get some words out.

“I don’t even know.” He shakes his head and shrugs, laughing right along with you.

Eventually you’re both able to calm down. Your arm is draped across his chest, and his hand glides up and down your spine in a way that soothes you. The friends-with-benefits line is a little blurred because you’re not sure if cuddling is part of that package, but as per usual you tell yourself that you’ll figure it out later. You’d rather just enjoy yourself.

“_____?” Wooseok gently breathes your name into your hair, and you prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. He’s gorgeous and you don’t know how you didn’t see it before. “I’m glad you came over.”

You don’t think - you just act on instinct. Your fingers glide up to his cheek and you lean down to kiss him. Wooseok’s lips are warm and soft, and the kiss is sensual and provocative and...

And it melts deep into your heart, lighting you up from head to toe.

It stirs up every romantic thought that you know you shouldn’t have about him.

Fuck.

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 7.

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mrsbenhardyx · 6 years ago

Text

Love, I’m home - Chapter 2

Read chapter one

Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader

Summary: You have a great job at the BBC and you love writing scripts and shooting episodes. But one day, your boss asks you to go to France for 2 months to shoot a special reportage. You are excited, but also scared to leave Roger for so long…

Warnings: fluff, maybe angst, alcohol

Word count: 2718

A/N: Guys, this my very first fanfiction so don’t shoot me if it’s not 100% perfect yet. I hope you like it! Let me know when there is anything you want to tell me about the story. I would love it if you would like, reblog and share this! And react to tell me what you think. I would appreciate that! Love <3

Disclaimer: English is not my main language. There probably are some words that are used incorrectly and there will be some grammar mistakes in there too. Please forgive me for that.

When your plane landed at the main airport in Paris - you remembered that it was called Paris Charles de Gaulle - it was four o’clock. And by the time you arrived in the hotel, it was already an hour later. You sat down on one of the two big beds in the hotel room that you shared with Rachel. You were absolutely exhausted and you could use a short nap. Luckily, Rachel was your best friend and she saw immediately what you needed.

“Y/N, you look really tired. Take a nap for a few hours. I’m going to eat something with the rest of the crew, so you can be alone and rest. I’ll wake you when we need to leave for dinner. Alright?”, she asked you, while she was sitting next to you.

“Okay, but tell the crew that I’m sorry that I can’t come with them to eat something’, you replied, slightly guilty.

“I will, but now you need to take some rest now, because the next two months are going to be tough and we will need to work very hard on that reportage. And you have to look well rested to go to restaurant this evening,”, Rachel said while looking at you, a little worried about the way you looked. “I’ll be back in about two hours.”

Rachel left the room a minute later, but you decided to first unpack your things before going to bed. You tried to give everything a good place without taking too much space from your roommate, but Rachel was right, you were really sleepy, so you ended up going to bed after all. You walked over to the bed and lifted the covers to go underneath. When you finally were laying down under the blankets, you missed Roger’s warmth next to you. You wanted him to sing you to sleep, but he was in London and you were in Paris. It were going to be a long two months without your Roger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around two hours later, Rachel came back into the hotel room and she saw you laying in bed. You were in deep sleep, so she decided to take a quick shower before waking you up, but you woke up from the sound of the water falling down from the faucet. You looked on your watch and saw that is was already half past seven and the crew would be waiting for you in the restaurant in less than 45 minutes.

“Rachel, why didn’t you wake me?” You jumped out of your bed and ran into the bathroom. You hadn’t thought about the dress you were going to wear or what make-up you would put on.

“Y/N, don’t worry. We have still more than enough time left”, she answered while she let out a little sigh.

“But I still need to pick my dress and my shoes and my make-up and my-“ You started to go through everything you still had to figure out, but Rachel interrupted you.

“Y/N, I said not to worry. Or how they say it here: ne t’inquiète pas. Everything will be alright. Just stay calm, I’m here to help you. I’ll help you pick a dress and I will do your make-up.”

“Thanks, Rachel, I wouldn’t know what I had to do without you…”

“Then it’s a good thing that I am here with you.” She laughed and pulled you into a hug and she kissed you on your forehead. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the restaurant and you and Rachel were perfectly on time. You were wearing a long red dress with long sleeves and a subtle belt around your waist. You had covered you neckline with a gold necklace that matched the earrings you once got from Roger.

“Bienvenue au restaurant Chez Louis et Marie. Suivez-moi à votre table. Les autres sont déjà là”, the waiter said when you arrived at the little counter in front of the restaurant that looked really expensive and it was weird being there without Roger by your side. But no Roger meant no paparazzi and you let a little sigh of relief disappear from your mouth.

You hung your coat on the coat rack and followed Rachel and the waiter to your table where the rest of the crew had already started the aperitif. The waiter pulled your chair a little back and you sat down while smiling at him and you said: “Merci beaucoup.” You had practiced your French when you where at home and this was the first time you could use it, although it was with a heavy English accent. He smiled back at you and handed you a menu before leaving to another table. You decided to go for a light salad and a glass of white wine, because you were not feeling very hungry.

You were not following the conversation that your colleagues were having, because you could only think of home, the boys and of course Roger. Rachel saw that you weren’t paying attention, so she poked you in your side. “You’re alright, Y/N? What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing special, just about home and the bo-“

“And about Roger?”

“Maybe a little…”

But what you did not know was that Roger was thinking about you exactly at the same time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LONDON

Roger spent the whole day in the studio since you had left for Paris. Together with Brian, John and Freddie, he tried to work on some new songs, but his thoughts just kept drifting towards you. Brian saw that Roger was not paying attention while they were rehearsing their latest song.

“Rog, are you alright? We’re trying to rehears a new song here.” He asked when he stopped playing the guitar. He walked over to Roger to get a better look at him. Freddie and Roger also stopped playing to hear and see what was wrong with Roger.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing. I’m fine. I was just thinking about Y/N.” He answered, while he was trying not to break when he thought about you.

“Of course you were, darling,” Freddie answered immediately “and we miss her too and I’m sure she misses us too.” Freddie smiled and came closer to put a hand on Roger’s shoulder. “You know what… Let’s call it a day. Go home and get some rest. We’ll rehears the song tomorrow.”

“Are you serious, Fred? It isn’t even four o’clock yet. I can rehears the song right now if you guys want.” Roger replied. He looked around him to see how the other boys reacted, both surprised and pleased by Freddie’s proposal.

Now John reassured Roger: “Roger, it’s no big deal. Now, go home and call Y/N!” Roger hesitated at first, but John made himself clear again: “Now, Roger, go call her!”

When Roger came home, he forgot for a moment that you weren’t at home. He shouted out of habit “Love, I’m home”, but he interrupted himself when he realized that you weren’t there to recall anything. He put his coat on the coat rack and he fell in the couch. He sighed while he was thinking about you. Where would she be? What is she doing? What is she wearing? What is she eating? Does she think about me?

Does she miss me?

He really wanted to do what John told him to, but he wasn’t sure if it was the right time. Maybe you were doing something very important, maybe you weren’t even in your hotel room. So Roger decided not to call, but he wanted to start writing his first letter instead. He walked to the drawer where you had put the stationary and the envelopes before you had left. You had also left a little message in the drawer.

In case you would like to write me a letter. I already wrote the address on the envelopes. :) Love, Y/N

Roger almost started crying when he read your note. He took an envelope out of the drawer and indeed, the address of your hotel was already written down in the corner.

Roger also took a sheet of paper and a pen and he installed himself at the kitchen table to write his first letter.

Y/N, loveI miss you like crazy. It has only been a few hours, but it already feels like weeks.…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PARIS

After dinner was over and you said goodnight to the crew, you and Rachel went to the bar to have one last drink before you went to your hotel room. You ordered your fourth glass of wine of the evening and you first took a small sip of it, but then drank it all at once. Rachel looked up from her martini and looked at you with a concerned look. When you tried to order a new glass of wine, she stopped you.

“Y/N, haven’t you drank enough this evening? We should go to our room and go to bed”, she said, giving the waiter a sign not to give you your drink. “We need to be fresh to start working on the reportage and with a hangover, you will not be able to concentrate on your work tomorrow.”

“Rachel, I can decide for myself. Give me my wine. Or no, give me something stronger.” You were clearly drunk. You didn’t need much alcohol to get drunk, so four glasses of wine were more than enough and you would definitely have a hangover the next morning. “I don’t need you to act like my mother.”

“Y/N, I am just worried about you. Wouldn’t you be worried about me if I would be like this. I would at least expect that from my best friend.” She stood up from her stool and came closer to you. She took your head in her hands and looked you in the eyes. “Y/N, you’re my best friend and I love you and that’s why I am so worried about you. You changed since we left this morning. You started acting so weird when we got on the plane.” When you looked into her piercing gaze, you realized what you were doing. You weren’t like that. You weren’t even away for a day and you were already drinking too much. If you continued like this, you would not know what you might do in two months. You knew Roger’s heart would break if he saw you like this. You needed to control yourself and your behaviour. You had to stay strong for Roger and for yourself. You didn’t even realize you were crying until Rachel wiped your tears away of your cheeks. “Don’t cry. Everything will be okay.”

“I know, I just… I’m sorry… Roger…”, You tried to make a proper sentence, but it were rather single words that came from your mouth. “I am just really worried about Roger. We have never been away from each other for such a long time. And I know that he loves me, but when he starts drinking too much, he just doesn’t know what he is doing...” You sobbed and Rachel pulled you closer to lay you against her chest.

“Y/N, I told you already; Brian, Freddie and John are there to look after Roger. They love you too and they will make sure that nothing is going to happen to Roger or to you.” She gently took your hair out of your face. “It’s not necessary to worry. Everything will be alright. Let’s go to our room so you can call him. It’s only eleven o’clock in London, so he will still be awake now.”You stood up from your stool and left €20 before heading to the elevator.

When you arrived in your room, you threw your coat on the small seat and you searched for your pajamas in your half-unpacked suitcase. You walked to the bathroom to remove your make up and only then you saw how your make up was spread over your face. You quickly took a towel and rubbed under your eyes to wipe away the mascara. You quickly put your hair in a bun and you looked in the mirror for one last time. “Okay, Y/N, you can do this. You are not going to cry. It’s just a phone call to your boyfriend. That’s all.” You tried to convince yourself that everything would go well en that you wouldn’t cry. You were so excited to hear Roger’s voice again, but you were also scared to break when you would hear it. You had never left each other for so long. When he went on tour with Queen, you always went with Roger and the boys. The longest time you hadn’t been together was when you were spending the weekend with your parents, but that was only for two days. Today you had left for two months.

You were ready to call him. You had put on your pajamas and were sitting on the side of the bed with the phone on the bedside table next to you. You took the telephone receiver and you put it to your ear. Your hand was shaking while you dialed the number. You did not even have to look at the little note you had put in your handbag before leaving, because you knew the number by heart.

“Hello, this is Roger Taylor.”

“Hi, Rog. It’s me, Y/N.”

“Y/N? Is it really you? Oh, love, finally! I miss you so much!”

“I miss you too, Roger.” And what you had feared, happened. Tears began to run down your face when you heard his voice. “It has only been one day and I already want to come home to you.”

“I know, love. I wish you were here with me now. I missed your hugs and kisses when I came home. But let’s not get too sentimental or I will cry too.” You could hear him laugh through the telephone and you imagined the smile that you had fallen in love with. “Tell me about your day.”

“Well, we actually only went for dinner this evening. I slept most of the day after we arrived at the hotel.” You tried to think about any other things you did that day, but you couldn’t come up with anything else. “Tell me about yours.” “I went to studio with the boys and we tried to rehears some new songs, but Freddie saw that I wasn’t paying attention so he sent me home. And I, uh … Well, I don’t think I should tell you already.”

“Now I’m curious. Tell me!”

“All right then… I started writing my first letter after I came home from the studio.” You were surprised that he even had thought of writing a letter to you, but you were super excited at the thought that a letter from Roger was coming soon. “Are you serious? You remembered that I put the paper and the envelops in the drawer?”

“Of course I remembered. We made a promise!”

“Indeed, we did make a promise.” You were happy that he remembered that you had put all the things he would need in a drawer. And that meant that he had also read the little note that you had left with it. When you thought of that, you smiled and you saw Rachel coming out of the bathroom in her pajamas. She gave you a little sign that she wanted to go to sleep and you understood it immediately. “But, honey, I have to go. Rachel wants to go to bed because we need to get up early tomorrow.”

“Oh, all right.” You heard a little disappointment in his voice.

“I love you, Roger Taylor.”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You heard how Roger put the phone down on the other side, but before he did that, you thought you could hear a short sob. Your heart broke when you realized that Roger was crying and you weren’t there to take him into your arms.

You stood up from the bed and walked over to your suitcase. You opened a small zipper and you took out a sheet of paper, an envelope on which your address was written and a pen and you started writing your own letter addressed to Roger.

Dear Roger, love of my life…

Read chapter three

#ben hardy #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #ben hardy!roger x reader #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy imagine #fanfiction #queen #bohemian rhapsody #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #rami malek #freddie mercury #bohemian rhapsody boys #bohemian rapsody movie #i hope you like it

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