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eyes on the monitor

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike catches something on the security cameras that really shouldn't be happening at a family-friendly pizzeria—even an abandoned one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, stranger!reader, submissive!mike, trespassing, smut, m&f masturbation, public masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, squirting, finger sucking, cum eating, looming danger

word count: 3k

Mike has seen a lot of things on the security monitors in his three short nights working at Freddy's. 

Old animatronics that still roam about like they're possessed, cryptic messages written on dusty windows and mirrors. But he can honestly say he never saw this coming.

As the cameras shift from right to left, one of the screens glitches and crackles, and then there's you, tucked into a booth like you belong there. Except you don't. He's not even sure how you evaded his notice, let alone how you got into the building.

Don't you have any idea what's lurking in these halls? The dangers that patiently wait behind the curtained stage not even ten feet from where you're sitting? From where you're...

Fuck.

There's no way you possibly can because you're still lounging there without a care in the world, your legs spread wide and your jeans dangling off one ankle while you fuck yourself on your fingers. Two of them, your ring and middle, pump a steady rhythm in and out, dribbling slick all over the vinyl beneath you. You're so wet, even the camera's picking up the refracted light from the prize counter glinting off your pussy.

He should be panicked. He should be halfway to the auditorium by now to stop you, to drag you out of the pizzeria before the unthinkable happens, but—

But he can't bring himself to move or stop watching. He can't stop himself from palming his stiffening cock through his pants, either. Your head lolls back onto the booth and your body readjusts, giving him the perfect view of your languid movements. Now, it's almost like you're on display just for him.

And suddenly, he doesn't care about Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, or Foxy. He definitely doesn't care about his job or whatever else that career counselor said on the phone. The only thing Mike cares about is getting his dick out as fast as humanly possible so he can match the calculated press of your fingers and your frustratingly unhurried pace. 

You're thoroughly enjoying your pleasure—that much is clear—and it would be so easy to just...join in. He'd planned on sleeping through his fourth night, but now that you're here, there's nothing else he'd rather be doing than spending his shift fucking his fist and pretending it's you.

It'd be wrong. So, so wrong, but as you continue on, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, he can feel himself getting harder and harder. There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants that's getting difficult to ignore, and he nearly moans as he grinds the heel of his hand into his lap for relief.

His gaze trails down your figure, surprisingly clear on the aging monitors, and he watches, dry-mouthed, as your unoccupied hand snakes up your body to tweak a nipple through your shirt. 

Fuck it, he can't take this anymore.

He yanks his pants down so fast, he's shocked he doesn't knock himself onto the floor, and hisses out a breath the moment his fingers wrap around himself. It aches with how good it feels, but he only allows his eyes to roll back for a split second before they're locked back on you. 

And you're sexy as hell. Your shirt's been tugged up and tucked under your chin to reveal that you decided to forgo a bra, in addition to the rest of your inhibitions, and he's thanking every deity he doesn't believe in that he doesn't have to imagine the plush curve of your tits and how they'd look sucked into his mouth.

Crap. He can't keep thinking shit like that if he wants to last longer than a few minutes. Ignoring the angry pulsing against his palm, he starts to stroke himself in time with your thrusts, diligently following your lead. But you're moving so slowly like you've got all the time in the world in this abandoned wonderland you've claimed for yourself, and Mike's time is limited. 

The longer this night goes on, the more restless they become, and it won't be long before those curtains open and you're interrupted. For good. There must be something seriously wrong with him, because he doesn't give a shit about that, either. They can wait. He's got another job to finish, and he needs this.

It's been so long since he last allowed himself to let go, and even longer since his body actually wanted to. He's harder than he's ever been in his life, and it's confusing and a little painful, and yet he hopes he lasts until his alarm goes off at 6 a.m., teetering on the edge of nirvana right alongside you. He wants you to make him cum so badly, and he knows you will, even if you don't know it yourself.

Tiny, hushed pleas escape him as your fingers speed up, begging you to coax him, to encourage him to be good for you and follow your every move. His office is too far from the auditorium for his words to carry, but he continues to moan them anyway, desperately. Obediently.

His eyes flutter closed as he succumbs to the fantasy of your lips grazing the shell of his ear, giving him firm instructions and praising him when he proves how well he can listen.

Such a good boy for me, Mike. A little faster, not too much. Nice and tight, just like that.

"Fuck. Like this? Is...is this okay?" he whimpers aloud, thumbing over the tip on his next upstroke. 

His hips buck into his hand at the sensation, and he grits his teeth, anticipating an admonishment that never comes. He's more than a little disappointed. 

That is, until he hears it, crystal clear as it filters through the cracked door and reverberates through his entire body. A needy, perfect moan, rising in pitch and volume with each passing moment. Yours.

You must've heard him, somehow. It's the only explanation. He has no idea how long he's been babbling, drunk on the tight, slick slide of skin against skin, but you're responding to it encouragingly like he's only ever imagined in his wettest dreams.

Mike's eyes shoot open, darting back to the monitor, and he has to grip the base of his cock tight to keep from cumming then and there. You're staring directly at the camera now, your chest heaving as you fuck yourself with three fingers, and he winces at how quickly his balls start to tighten.

He's going to cum. Shit. Shit.

But you didn't tell him he could. You're not even aware of the power you hold over him, and yet—

"You sound close, baby. You gonna cum for me?"

He sees your lips move and then your voice rings out a moment later, breathy and labored, and...how the fuck did you end up in this place? Who are you? He fucks into his fist frantically, leaking precum all over his fingers, and he can feel sweat matting his dark curls to his forehead, pooling where his aching wrist meets his hip bone. 

Maybe it doesn't even matter how or why you're in this pizzeria, not anymore. He can't stop anyway, not when you're urging him on and calling him baby. He feels delirious, blind to the rest of the security monitors and newly flickering lights. To the purple curtain slowly opening behind you.

Right now, it's just you and him. The familiar, searing heat in the pit of his groin, and the wet squelch of your fingers stroking your convulsing walls and rubbing tight circles into your clit—you're both so close, he knows it. He just needs you to say it. He needs your permission.

"Only if—," he gasps, belatedly realizing that his other hand is cupping his balls, squeezing reflexively without his permission. "—only if you say I can."

He watches your jaw drop, and your thighs begin to quake in response. Quicker than he can process, there's a sudden shift, and your gaze darkens mischievously to match the subtle quirk of your lips. You're in control now and you know it. You like it. He does, too.

Your pace doesn't slow at all and, instead, your hips begin to swivel into your touch, grinding into the sticky vinyl bench for more friction. 

So, that turns you on, huh? If he strains his ears, he swears he can just make out the squeaking of a diner booth being pushed to its limit. He's never been more jealous of furniture in his life.

That could've been him, if only he'd manned up and done his damn job. He could've had you bent over that table or bouncing on his cock; felt you gushing around him, clamping down on him. You would've wrung him dry.

Turns out you still do, just from a little further away. 

"Still hanging in there?" you coo from the other room, but the teasing in your voice is undercut by something headier. You sound wrecked.

His eyebrows pinch together, his expression almost pained, and he can feel that telltale pressure building, building.

"Y-yeah, but I...fuck, I can't hold it anymore," he whimpers, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his hand. His thrusts are getting sloppier and tears are beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes. He wishes you could see him right now. "C-can I? Please."

Your fingers stutter and, for a second, he thinks he might've pushed you over the edge, but you recover just long enough to give him one final push. To tell him the one thing he's been longing to hear since he tugged down his pants and started playing your little game.

"Such a good boy," you repeat from earlier, a murmur that just barely reaches his ears, except this time it's really you and not just a fantasy. "Cum, baby. Let me hear you."

Then, his mind goes blissfully blank.

Mike doesn't just cum, he bursts. Soft whimpers taper into something guttural and animalistic as thick spurts coat his security vest and dribble down his length, soaking into the thick fabric of his sweatpants. He moans his way through it, nearly giving himself a friction burn with the intensity of his grip and speed. And he's loud, just like you told him to be. Much louder than he should be.

For a brief moment, his vision whites out, and he almost misses what he's been looking forward to all night. He blinks away the lingering spots obscuring his sight, and that's when it happens. Bathed in flashing green and yellow fluorescents, your entire body curls in on itself, shaking as your orgasm overcomes you and soaks the floor. 

His cock jerks pathetically in his hand as you work yourself through it, your eyes heavy-lidded and still locked on the camera. After a few more pumps, you slump into your seat and remove your fingers from your cunt, sucking them wetly into your mouth. 

He should get up. He should walk right into that auditorium with his dick still out so you can clean him up too, but he feels frozen in place. The skin at the back of his neck prickles and erupts into goosebumps and it feels like a warning, yet he still can't bring himself to look away from you. 

So, he doesn't notice the purple curtain opening just a fraction more in the background, and the curved, silver hook that peeks out from behind it. The blood rushing in your ears and steady heaving of your chest masks the metallic rattling, leaving you dangerously in the dark, too.

But Mike's eyes on the monitor are just enough to keep the pirate in his cove, and you're captivating enough to ensure they stay there. 

Sticky fingers twitch in his lap and, as if you can tell, you smirk around your own before pulling them free with a lewd pop. His mouth waters at the thought of what you must taste like and, unbeknownst to him, you're thinking the exact same about him. Since you're not there to help him yourself, you ask him to be good for you one last time.

"It's your turn," you laugh teasingly, swirling your tongue around your fingertips. "You should probably clean yourself up before you head home. It's almost six."

Heat curls low in his stomach and compels him to obey again. A cursory glance down at his watch tells him you're right—his alarm will go off soon, way sooner than he expected, and he's still covered in sweat and his own release. He could pop out of the office to the bathroom and be back before any real damage is done, probably. But that's not really what you're asking for.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he calls out, not bothering to hide the neediness in his voice. He's never experienced anything like this—like you—before and he's not sure he'll get the opportunity ever again.

"Lick it off. All of it," you instruct, dropping your fingers between your legs to swirl around your clit before popping them back into your mouth. Slowly, you show him exactly what you want, and he's a little horrified to realize he's getting hard again. "Can you do that for me?"

He nods quickly, forgetting you can't see his approval, but it doesn't matter, anyway. He's sucking the drying cum off his palm and fingers faster than he can reply, and his muffled responding moan tells you everything you need to know. After everything that's happened during this unexplainable night shift and everything you've made him feel, he'd likely do anything you asked.

"Such a good listener," you continue, ceasing your ministrations to lazily slip your underwear and jeans back into place. 

He's hit with a sudden wave of panic. This can't be over yet. There's still so much mystery shrouding you and whatever connection you have to this place, and if you leave now, he'll be left wondering forever. He wants answers, but disappointingly, you only leave him with more questions.

"How did I get so lucky with you, huh? The other security guards weren't nearly this fun," you smirk, dropping another bomb he never saw coming.

Oh. Oh. He freezes as he finishes laving the remaining wetness between his thumb and index fingers, the reality of the situation finally making itself known. This isn't the first time you've done this. It's probably not even the second or third. This is a habit, and he's not the only unwitting participant to fall prey to your seduction.

Fuck, he knew you were too good to be true. He hates that his body's still fighting his rationality while you sit there genuinely believing you've done nothing wrong. So innocent and, yet, still such an enigma. No one's ever made him cum that hard but, thankfully, his head is finally clear enough to put a stop to all of this. It's time to do his job.

The opportunity presents itself almost immediately. The flickering lights that have progressively gotten worse since his shift started reach a fever pitch, and the familiar figure in the corner of the screen reveals itself, wrenching his attention away from you. 

Mike barely has enough time to warn you before the screens start to glitch—every single one of them—and display nothing more than lines and lines of meaningless code. 

"You have to go. Now," he yells, struggling to be heard over the tinny screeching and jarring sounds of children's laughter crackling violently over the intercom. "Just—get out of here. Run, you have to run!"

He doesn't wait for a response, operating on autopilot as he wrestles his pants up and shoots out of his seat to the breaker box across the room. Terror and adrenaline pump through his veins, puppeteering him through the instructions left for him by Mr. Raglan.

Pull the lever down then back up, reset the power, and wait for the monitors to reboot. All he can do now is hope the machines don't deem you a threat and let you go. The room is plunged into darkness and the speakers go eerily silent.

Then, the systems come back online just like they're supposed to. But you're gone. He frantically searches the monitors for even a trace of you, evidence that you ever existed at all, but there's nothing. The only relief he's granted is that there's no blood or pieces of you scattered across the building. There's nothing at all.

Bracing himself on the desk in front of him, he breathes in desperate lungfuls of air, crashing from his adrenaline-fueled high and giving in to exhaustion. Just one more night. One more night at Freddy's, and he'll take that paycheck and never look back.

After a while of waiting for his panic to subside, his watch starts to beep, signaling the end of this night from hell. Fighting to ignore his conflicting feelings and lingering confusion, and even more so the phantom heat still licking at the base of his spine when he lets his thoughts stray back to you, he grabs his backpack and all but speed walks to the breaker to cut the power again.

As his fingers close around the lever, the intercom suddenly crackles to life. Something akin to hope blooms in his chest, and he whips around to see your image picked up by the camera at the entrance, radiant and unharmed under the morning sun of a new day. 

You're smiling, and he can't find it in himself to care that he's smiling back. You turn to leave, then think better of it.

"Same time tomorrow?" 

He scoffs, shaking his head at how ridiculous his life has become since he started this gig. If not even haunted animatronic mascots and the looming threat of death can't keep you away, then who is he to try? 

Yeah. He'll see you tomorrow.

thanks for reading!

[shojizbae]

Wellness Checks

Spencer Reid x Reader

It was 11:37 when you checked your wristwatch. A knock sounded at your door, and you reached for your glasses on your nightstand blindly. Both your dogs sprang up and barked at the sound of the knocks.

"Nike, Artemis, Heel!" you shush them and rub your eyes to get them to focus. The two fluffy German shepherds follow your calves as you get to the front door, clicking the two deadbolts open. They sit as you open the door and reveal Dr. Reid. Only having been on the team for five months, you view Spencer as not just your senior but your superior. And not just the lanky piece of ass that he is.

"Uh, Spencer!" You attempted to smile, and he greeted you back. "Err, come on in." You stepped out of the way and widened the door. "Is there anything I can do for you?" You led him to the couch, where both your dogs sat and stared at him.

"Can I help you with something? Tea, maybe?" you start to walk away

"You were supposed to be at work almost two hours ago (Y/n)."

"I must have overslept, I'm gonna get some coffee would you like a cup."

"As long as it gets you to stop dodging my questions."

"Yes, Sir. How do two cups of sugar sound?" He's trying to be stern and show how cross he is with you, but it's hard to make a serious face when you're not wearing pants. You strut off the kitchen, and he can hear your faucet as you fill the coffee pot. He takes a moment to take you into your apartment. The walls were an olive shade, and there were giant purple curtains. It looked lived-in.

Organized chaos, as people liked to call this.

Your bag and shoes were tossed into oblivion. Your couch had just about a million throw pillows and a basket of blankets. It was cozy. You returned with two large mismatched mugs, handed one to him, and knelt on the couch. At the touch of your bare legs against each other, you realized that you had forgone pajama bottoms the night before. Instead, you had on an old gray UCLA raglan and some red underwear. Thank God you didn't wear a thong yesterday.

"Uh, I'm so sorry I didn't realize." You begin to stand, but a tentative grip on your wrist pulls you down.

"It's fine. You weren't expecting guests." you laugh but pull a nearby knit blanket over your lap

"Why were you sleeping so late? Normally, you are fifteen minutes early. What happened?" You take a sip from a mug that says '30 and flirty.' "(Y/n)." His voice is back to demanding.

"I'm sorry," you rub your eyes. I stayed in the office late to finish up my reports and help JJ with the debriefing.

"Bullshit, JJ was the second out; she had to get back to her son." He takes a long swig of his coffee and sits it on the table. "I've been profiling for over seven years. You're not going to get past me. Was it something on the trip?"

At the mention, you hang your head and whimper.

Tears pour uncontrollably from your eyes, and you hear them tap against your lenses. His mug clicks against your vinyl coffee table, and he pulls you into his chest by your shoulder.

"Shh sh, it's okay." His other hand rubs at your hair. "I know this job takes it out of you. It's important to focus on the fact that you're inciting real change."

"how could someone do that to a child? To ten children and keep going!" You pull up from your hands and look him deep in his eyes.

"I know it's not right." he holds the back of your neck as your forehead presses into his breast.

"How could- how could you do that to a poor sweet child." you begin to let out a mirage of sobs. Incoherent pleas. He pets your hair as you dampen his nice gray sweater. When you've finally calmed down you sniffle and wipe your eyes.

"You should get some water. Gets up and rummages through your cupboard and fills it with tap water. You throw back the last coffee and pull your knees up to your chest. You look up as he hands you a clear blue plastic cup.

"Thank you." you push your glasses up your nose. "You're free to grab anything in the kitchen. Although my groceries are quite lackluster."

"That's alright. I ate before I got here. I never knew you needed glasses."

"Oh, well, I try not to be public without my contacts. I was called four eyes more than I could count."

"Yeah, middle school is the worst."

"This was actually grad school." Your laugh is finally genuine, but you punctuate it with another sniffle.

"Well, I'm just going to text Hotch that you're going to stay home today." He reaches into his pocket

"No, no, I'll come in today. I just needed to rest a little." You push his phone to his chest and stand up. "I'll be right back."

You are ushered to your bedroom, which is basically a big closet separated from the rest of the space by three wide steps and two industrial barn doors. The two dogs follow you to your room and stand at the doors, scrutinizing Reid. You're halfway through buttoning your pants when you realize you're missing your good bra.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself "Reid!" You yell into your apartment

"Yeah!" As he responds, his voice gets louder

"Uh," you turn around quickly and cross your arms over your bare chest

"Oh, sorry,"

"I'm sorry, but could you get my bra from my purse?"

"Sure thing."

"Sorry, it's probably somewhere near the door." your forehead connects with your dresser briefly until you hear him knock on your door jam.

"Here." He taps your shoulder, and you turn slowly, but he squeezes his eyes shut like a 12-year-old boy.

"Oh, come on, Reid, it's not like you've never seen a topless girl before," You tease and spin around to put on your bra. "I'm decent now." You tap on his shoulder. A new method of communication for the two of you. He opens his eyes but looks away when he sees you're only halfway through buttoning your light blue blouse.

"Seriously? I know you didn't have a chance to have fun in high school, but this is ridiculous."

"Well, this is also unprofessional. You're my colleague." He put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm also ready to go. My shoes are by the door." You point to the exit, gather your belongings, put out food for the dogs, and make sure the dog door is unlocked. Reid insists that you take his car and that he'll drive you home at the end of the day.

His car is nice and clean, with only one of those clip-in air fresheners. He takes some sort of secret route to evade the Virginia traffic. You arrive at Quantico and log in to the relief of your coworkers.

"What took you so long?"

"Reid couldn't find my bra." You snort as you fill up another mug with coffee

"Heyo!" Morgan cheers

"That's not completely true." He interjects

"No, it's not. I was having a rough time processing our Alabama case. I guess I slept through some of the trauma."

"You should have stayed home (L/n)," Hotchner says

"No, I need to do at least three hours of work to feel like I've been productive. I'll be fine if I can stay behind my computer and file reports."

"Ok, but you'll be going home at five at the latest." He orders

"Yes, sir." You type in the government password and tie up some loose ends. Many of your reports were halted, and new cases sprung up. Your computer read 4:57 when your to-do list was empty.

"Hotch?" you knock on his door frame and poke your head around the corner. He politely hangs up the phone and rubs his temples. "I'm gonna head out now?"

"Good. And fantastic job finishing your reports. Go get some rest."

"You too," you meander to Spencer's desk and pat his shoulder. "Can you drive me home now?"

"Of course,"

"Hey, don't get too rowdy lovebirds. We need y'all tomorrow!" Morgn calls from his desk, but you're already speeding for the door when he finishes his sentence. Reid makes a sojourn at a nearby Chinese food place and returns with a doggy bag. He takes you and the food up to your apartment and watches you deadbolt him in with you.

"You understand, right?"

"Of course, I also noticed you don't have a ground or top-floor apartment."

"Yeah," Today, you drop your purse on the bench by your door and line your black heels up nicely on a rack. "Well, ground-floor apartments are easier to break into. And if I'm thrown off my balcony, it's low enough that I probably won't die—unless I land on my neck."

"Lovely."

"Feel free to make yourself at home. I'm going to put on some pj's." you start taking off your blouse as you walk to your bedroom. His worm-like reaction only entices you to embolden yourself. You shed your business attire, toss it in the hamper, and put on the same shirt from earlier and an oversized zip-up sweatshirt.

You grab a pair of grey sweats from your drawer and bring them to Reid. He's pulling small white boxes out of the brown bag. You tap his shoulder to avoid startle. He jumps slightly, though.

"Here, those slacks don't look couch-worthy." You hold them out, and he looks hesitant to. "Please, you're a guest who bought me dinner." He pressed his lips in a thin line. He got up with a sigh and put the pants on in your bedroom.

You flip through the channels until you get to BBC and play Dr Who. Reid joins you, wearing an undershirt and your sweats, and is shocked to see his favorite show on the TV.

"Those fit you better than me. You should keep them."

"You watch Dr. Who?"

"Of course," you open a box of Peking ravioli, "Come, take a seat." you open the blanket on your lap for him. "Oh, actually, I have to feed the dogs." You spring upright when he sits down, so he gets a view of your perky butt as he tries to take in the fictional storyline. You scuttle off while he struggles with chopsticks with some lo mein.

You rejoin him, pull the blanket over your lap, overlapping your legs on his. You laugh along with the absurdity of the episode, and as breakfast at Tiffany's comes on, you tell Reid that you're getting drowsy. It's not much later that your glasses are pinching on his arm, and he can feel your lips distorted against him. He pulls you into his chest.

As your snores overlap the sounds of the movie he slides his arm under your knees and by your neck to carry you off to bed. The dogs immediately start barking and leap toward him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, Artemis Nike Down! Safe." You assure the dogs. Immediately, they lay down and whimper at you. Reid opens your blankets and tucks you in. Before he leaves he places a succulent kiss on your forehead.

"Spence, stay."

"Ok,"

[lonelyharmonies]

just friends

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

pairing: jaehyun x fem reader type: fluff, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au (or kinda), college au, word count: 22k warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive sometimes a/n.: hello friends!! this story here is my baby, the first full fic i've ever written 💚 3 years later i still love it as the first time i've posted it. i hope you enjoy it as much as i do. if you think you have read this story before, youprobably did, this is a repost. not very much edited so you might find some mistakes, i apologize!

The sunlight peeking through the curtains meets your face and you wake up as soon as your cheeks get warm. You didn’t remember your bed being this comfortable. A foreign smell invades your nostrils but you don’t mind for a moment. The perfume had notes of lavender and it was sort of strong, but you didn’t mind, deciding to put your head further into the pillow, capturing more of that pleasant scent.

A few minutes later, you open your eyes and it takes a while for you to realize it isn’t your bedroom. Neither is your cousin’s. You have no idea where and why you are here. The room is small but cozy, way different from your own. You can see some heavy books on the shelves next to you and a box full of vinyl.

You turn your head to the right to find a naked back facing you. Analyzing the body proportions and the room you were in, you assumed it was a boy. 

What happened to you? Why were you sleeping with a stranger?

You tried to remember the events from last night.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s gonna be fun!” “I don’t like frat parties, Taeyong.” you repeat the same line “Plus, I am really tired. Do you know how many assignments I have due next week? And tutoring is killing. Some students really push my buttons.” “See? You are so stressed! A couple of beers will do you good.”

Then, you remembered the noise. A lot of noise. You see flashes from the previous night events: there were people dancing, Mark Lee spilling his drink on you, and a shirtless Yuta dancing on the top of the kitchen’s counter. The only thing that wasn’t clear on your mind was how you ended up in this room.

Your cousin was in front of you, clearly drunk. You knew he was a lightweight. He knew he was a lightweight. That was probably the reason why Taeyong would always try to find a way to drag you to the parties with him: to clean the mess he makes. “I can’t drive you back, pumpkin. I’m sorry,” He said, bringing his hands to cup his face, as a way to act cute, but spilling his drink on the floor in the process. “Well, I’m already aware of this. You don't even have a license.” You felt your head spinning. Taeyong smiles and focuses on something behind you “I’ll call an Uber. Or maybe I should just walk,” You fished your phone out of your pocket, but your cousin took it away from you. “No, no. Don’t go home now.” He waved at someone while you tried to get your phone back. “You should enjoy this party. How long haven’t you made out with someone?” “LEE TAEYONG!” You and Johnny, who had placed an arm on your shoulders, shouted at the same time. “and The Cousin!”  “Can she sleep here tonight, Johnny? She’ll sleep in my room” Taeyong asked and Johnny screamed “Sure” while you tried to scold the other boy. “Lee Taeyong, come back here. Who said I agreed-” you tried to grab your cousin’s arm but he deflected your touch and went straight to a group of girls.  “Hey, hey, Y/N. “ Johnny called your attention. “Relax.” He handed you a shot glass full of a transparent liquid “The night has just started.”

While you were trying to remember what happened the night before, the man that is lying beside you wakes up. Jaehyun turns around and lays his eyes on your figure. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, but the scream that left your mouth once you met his gaze made Jaehyun realize it wasn’t a dream.

You get so startled that you lean backward as Jaehyun tries to hold your arm to keep you in place.

 “Be careful, you’re gonna hurt-” 

You don’t finish listening to his sentence as your body hits the ground with a loud thud. If you were sleepy before, falling out of the bed made you feel completely awake. You knocked your head on the bedside table and groaned quite loudly.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He says from his bed, looking at your lying figure on the floor.

Now that you could see the stranger’s face, you just wished to go back to sleep. Dying was also a good option. Not even in your wildest dreams, you would imagine waking up next to Jeong Jaehyun after getting dead drunk at one of his fraternity’s parties. 

You met Jaehyun when your cousin dragged you to your first frat party two years ago. You were getting some drinks in the kitchen when you laid your eyes on him playing beer pong with Yuta. You didn’t know a guy could look so attractive just by drinking beer wearing an all-black outfit. Ever since, you admired him from afar, never failing to be awestruck by his nice features. You never got the courage to talk to Jaehyun, but it all changed when your cousin insisted that you should help his friend Johnny.

“He is just trying to learn a new language.”  Taeyong would blatantly answer every time you questioned his friend’s sudden interest in taking Spanish classes. At the time, you were working for the Language Center at your university, so the two boys were constantly pestering you to sign Johnny up for the Spanish course and they only stopped once you gave in. It didn’t take you long to find out the reason why Johnny was so persistent: Mrs. García, or Isabela García, the senior student that taught the course: Spanish for Speakers of Other Languages. She was very sweet, smart, and popular among everyone on Campus and, apparently, Johnny was trying to have his shot with her while getting extra credits.  Eventually, you became closer. Not only because of your shared class but because Taeyong was your mutual friend. It was after one of your classes that you formally met Jaehyun for the first time, six months after seeing him in that party for the first time. He was waiting outside, a tray with coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other. “I can’t believe you thought it was a good idea to try to make a pickup line in Spanish.” you sighed loudly. “You can barely introduce yourself. Plus, she’s your teacher, keep it in your pants.” “Please, I was amaz- OH, whassup Jeffrey?!” Johnny spotted his friend waiting for him “This is my boring classmate Y/N. Y/N, this is Jaehyun.” “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said sheepishly, avoiding to look at his face. “Nice to meet you too.” “Today I said to Isabella that she was “La chica más Bella I’ve ever seen.” You know, Isabella and all-” “I don’t speak Spanish, Johnny.” the guy mumbled and you suppressed a smile. “- and even though I couldn’t say the whole sentence in Spanish, she smiled at me and said I was sweet. I bet she loved it.” “I clearly remember her disgusted face when she asked you to keep doing the exercise.” “You're lying to make me look bad.” “She wouldn’t need to lie, Hyung,” Jaehyun said, making you giggle.

After that meeting, you did talk to each other, but never alone. It was either at their fraternity parties or at lunch when he would join you, Johnny, and Taeyong. Now, you had slept in his bed and didn’t even remember how you ended up there. 

“I have no idea how I ended up on your bed. I am so, so sorry, Jaehyun.” you clumsily start standing up and finding your way to the door. “I-I swear I would never sleep with you.” 

You realize what you said and widened your eyes regretting your words. The boy, on the other hand, only chuckles and stays laid down on his bed, finding quite amusing your flustered and messy state.

“Ouch, it kinda hurts my pride” 

“I mean- I don’t mean like that. You are very attrac-” you stop yourself and shake your hand in front of your body “What I mean is, of course, I would sleep with- NO!” you stop, taking a deep breath. 

Why couldn’t you come up with a simple sentence? You decide to focus on the Mickey Mouse plushie on the top of his shelf and start again.

“This is so embarrassing! What I’m trying to say is-”

Jaehyun’s laughter stops you. He runs his hands through his fingers as he sits on his bed, with the comforter only covering his bottom parts, torso completely exposed.

“I think you mean that you wouldn’t take advantage of me.” 

“Yes! Yes. That’s exactly what I was trying to say.” you quickly agree, averting your gaze from his figure.

“I also have no idea how you ended up here.” Jaehyun states, grabbing a black t-shirt from the ground “but I’m sure nothing happened because I went to bed early last night. And alone.” he emphasizes the last part “Were you at the party?”

“Yeah,” you answered while looking at your feet and end up taking a glance at your stained shirt. 

The stain on your shirt makes you realize how fucked up you must look. You also smell terrible. Why was this happening to you? There were so many bedrooms in this house, why did you end up precisely in his?

“I had a few drinks last night…”

“A few?” he raises an eyebrow curiously.

“Maybe too many.” you scratch the back of your head and keep looking down.

Then, the awkward silence comes. You, standing there, in the middle of the room, like a statue in the middle of the room and Jaehyun a few steps away from you. It fazed you how he managed to look charming even after just waking up. 

“So, uh… The door…” he says motioning to the door behind you, snapping you back to reality.

“Oh, yes, sure. I’m sorry.” you turn back and open the door. 

Luck being on your side, the first thing you see as you get out of the room is your friend, Johnny, holding a puzzled look on his face.

“Isn’t it Jaehyun’s…”

“Yes.” 

You grumble and turn to your left, heading to the staircase, not giving Johnny enough time to make questions.

"Did you sleep together?” he asks Jaehyun loud enough for you to hear by the end of the hall.

“NO,” both of you say at the same time. 

Actually, you screamed from the top of the staircase and Jaehyun mumbled beside Johnny. “I think she’s not really interested.” he completes with a sarcastic note, chuckling.

“Why was she coming out of your room? How did that happen?” 

“Did you smell her clothes? She was probably dead drunk last night.”

By the time the boys reached the messy living room, you were already opening the front door.

“At least drink a cup of coffee” Johnny offers and you shake your head.

“Tell Taeyong I went back to the dorms,” you say, stepping outside and shutting the door as fast as you could. 

“Let me drive-” Johnny starts but you close the door before he could finish “you.”

The two boys head to the kitchen and start preparing their breakfast. Johnny places a cup of coffee in front of Jaehyun who smiles and silently thanks him. The next one to wake up is Yuta, who walked down the stairs inexplicably happy for someone who should have a hangover.

"Care to explain why this house is so noisy on a Saturday morning?” he calls the room’s attention to himself. “I hear too many voices.”

“There was a misunderstanding,” Jaehyun mumbles.

“What do you mean?” Yuta raised an eyebrow at the younger and Johnny giggled.

“Y/N woke up on Jaehyun’s bed this morning.” 

“What, Taeyong’s cousin?” he turns to Johnny who nods “She slept with you?” Yuta gaps at the younger boy “So she finally admitted she-”

“YUta” Johnny interrupts him “I was joking.”

“She was just really drunk and ended up in my room last night,” the youngest says, munching his cereal “When she got there I was already asleep. I didn’t spend a lot of time at the party last night. I have three projects to hand in this month. They are tiring me out.” 

“So, Y/N really slept with you?” Yuta asked again.

“In my room,“ Jaehyun corrects. “Well, if you excuse me, I’ll go to the gym.” he gives them a small smile and leaves the kitchen.

“Yuta, you almost said Y/N likes Jaehyun!” Johnny whispers-yells at Yuta.

“Well, it’s not like she knows how to hide her crush.”

“So you’re telling me that you slept with Jeong Jaehyun?” your roommate asks after you finished telling her about the events of the previous night.

You sigh loudly and shove her hands from your hair. “Did you listen to what I said? I slept on his bed because I was drunk and probably thought I was entering Taeyong’s room.”

“Come back here, I didn’t finish drying your hair.” she pulls you back by your shoulders “It would have been nice if you had slept with him. I heard stories about Jaehyun…”

“You should stop gossiping around,” You roll your eyes.

“Don’t pull up this act, I know you love it when I spill all the tea for you,” she pulls your hair with unnecessary strength, making you groan “Some girls say he really knows how to use his tongue, you know…” she says, pointing down at your lower body and you hit her hand.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you say in disgust. “Plus, I don’t know how so many people know how Jaehyun is in bed. He looks really reserved and quiet.“

“The quiet ones are the worst, my friend.” your roommate says before blowing air on your right ear, making you yank away from her.

It was midday when you decided to open your laptop and get some work done. You have three essays due to Thursday and you haven’t even started. It was now your third year and the pressure on your shoulders was getting heavier each day. You’re a good student, excellent grades, the professors love you, but after spending all those years studying communication, you still don’t know what you want to do with your life.

Taeyong always says that your problem is that you are too afraid to take the first step. Deep down, you know what you want, you’re just too afraid to pursue it.

Not even twenty minutes after starting your assignment, you hear a special ringtone and see your cousin’s face on your phone’s screen.

“I’ll stop calling you pumpkin and I’ll ask Sicheng if you can have his nickname,” Taeyong says as soon as you pick up the call.

“Who is Sicheng?” 

“Winwin” he replied and you hummed acknowledging. He was a Chinese exchange student who lived with your cousin last year.

“And why would I want to be called Winwin?”

“Because a little bird told me you managed to hook up with Jaehyun. That’s not even a regular win, you deserve a fucking Olympic gold medal for finally going for him.”

You sighed loudly and groaned at your cousin’s words. Did you really think they would keep quiet about this morning’s accident? All the gossips of the campus either start or finish in the damn frat house. They love gossiping. 

"I know your little bird is six feet tall and goes by Johnny,” you say in annoyance. “Couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?”

“It’s like I always say, Cousin,” you hear Johnny’s faint voice, apparently he was far from the microphone “Once the tea’s ready, we need to spill it. But in fact, no. It wasn’t me.” 

“First, I’m not your Cousin, Johnny,” you say, clearing your throat. “Second, you should spill your fucking tea correctly then,” you growl at him which makes both men laugh at the other end of the line. “We didn’t sleep together - I mean, we did sleep together but-”

“I KNEW IT! I told you I heard weird noises coming from the kitchen.” 

You hear a high pitched voice coming from your cousin’s side. You will kill Taeyong as soon as you get a chance.

“Taeyong, is this Donghyuck? That demon? How many people are listening to this phone call?” you lower your voice and feel your cheeks getting hot. Either from embarrassment or anger. (It was probably both).

“Only me, Johnny, Hyuck and Mark.” he simply states, making you huff in annoyance. ONLY four people discussing about your life.

 “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME, THEN?” you scream and hear a bang on your wall, warning you about the noise. “Sorry!” you scream again to apologize. “You said Mark is there? Hey, Mark!”

“Hi, Y/N. I’m still very sorry about your shirt. I promise to buy you a new one,” he says closer to the phone.

“It’s okay, sweetie. My roommate knows how to clean the stain.” 

“Why do you call Mark sweetie and call me a demon? Hyuckie is sad,” Donghyuck says, faking a cute voice.

“Cut the crap, demon. You don’t deserve my love and affection.” you say looking back at your open laptop, realizing you won’t be able to focus anymore “By the way, what does the noise have to do with me? It could have been literally anyone.”

“Well, I heard that you guys spent the whole night, you know… Having fun. Even on the kitchen counter,” the youngest says suggestively ,making you gasp.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? HEARD FROM WHO? THAT’S A LIE”

“That’s why I called, we needed to confirm the story,” Taeyong says laughing at your reaction.

“STOP LAUGHING! THIS IS NOT FUN” you hear your dorm neighbor punching your wall again and you snap “I’M BEING DEFAMED, ABIGAIL. GIVE ME A BREAK.” you scream towards the wall she has just punched.

“Abigail should just buy earplugs. She gets irritated by any sound you make.” you hear your cousin mumbling.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Taeyong.” you warn him “I am seriously so mad at you. Especially you, Johnny. I’m sure Jaehyun explained the whole incident.”

“She’s really mad, isn’t she?” someone whispers and the rest of them giggle.

“I can hear you.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun told me you were drunk and ended up in his bed, but who knows what happened before the sun came out.” Johnny giggles.

“NOTHING happened, for your information. I didn’t have sex on the kitchen counter” and you make sure to quickly answer “OR on Jaehyun’s bed. I didn’t hook up with that man, please, stop getting on my nerves.”

“Sicheng can keep being Winwin, she’s still a loser.” you hear Donghyuck snickering at his joke.

“But why did you go to Jaehyun’s room, though?” Mark asks.

“My drunk-self probably thought it was Taeyong’s,” you answer and throw yourself on your bed.

The line stayed silent for some seconds, the boys were whispering something to themselves but you couldn’t understand anything they were saying.

“Hello?”

“So, dear cousin.” he has just started and you could already assume he was trying to hold back his laughter.

“Do you know your cousin’s bedroom is the first room on the right?” Johnny asks and you hum in response.

“Jaehyun hyung stays at the end of the hall, dude..." Mark continues.

“On the left,” Donghyuck adds.

“Are you insinuating I went there on purpose?” you ask them “I was drunk!”

“You know what they say, noona,” you hear Donghyuck’s “drunk actions are sober thoughts.”

“That’s not how it goes,” you mumble.

“We all know you like Jaehyun hyung.” you gasp at the youngest words. “It’s not like you make an effort to hide your crush on him. Even Yuta hyung knows it.”

“I promise I didn’t say anything to them,” Johnny says immediately

“Me neither.” Taeyong adds “But Hyuck made a good point, you’re not subtle.”

“Do you remember last Tuesday how she choked on her own saliva when Jaehyun offered her sour gummies?” Johnny added laughing.

“Stop mocking me.” you huffed. “Please, don’t make a big deal out of this. The situation itself is already embarrassing.”

“You should shoot your shot, Y/N.” Mark says in a supportive tone “If I hadn’t made the first move, I wouldn’t be dating now.”

“Yes, we support you.”

“If even Mark has a girlfriend, you can get that d- OUCH DON’T HIT ME”

“Plus, you already know each-”

“You’re not that bad-looking either-”

All the boys start speaking at the same time and you think you might go crazy. What are they talking about? Dating Jeong Jaehyun? It’s not like you were in love with the guy, it was only a crush, for heaven’s sake! You were only acquaintances and dating was definitely not your top priority right now. You hang up on the rambling boys at the same time your roommate comes back to your shared room.

“What happened? Abigail was complaining about you screaming at her,” she says closing the door and sitting beside you.

When Monday came, you instantly wished that it was Friday. You are woken up by a pillow being thrown at you, full force. The alarm on your phone must have been ringing for a while but you didn’t hear it.

“Good morning to you too, Jiwoo.” you groan.

“Turn this off,” she says covering her head with her comforter looking like a caterpillar. “What time are you free today? Wanna grab dinner?”

“Spanish class finishes at 7.” you yawn and stand up, finally getting enough strength to start your day.

You’ve been taking Spanish classes for a year and a half now. And even though Mrs. García graduated last semester, Johnny continued taking the classes, which positively surprised you.

“I’ll meet you at the Language Center, then.” she pokes her head out of her comfortable cocoon to whisper “You can invite that hot classmate of yours. The tall one.”

“I’m not gonna invite Johnny,” you say shaking your head and choosing your pair of jeans and t-shirt of the day “He will certainly embarrass me.”

“We’ve been living together for three years, is there anything about you I don’t know yet?” she says, now sitting on her bed. “Stop being selfish and help your lonely friend here.”

“Why Johnny, though?” you ask, turning your head to her “Remember how he signed up for the Spanish classes only because of the hot teacher?”

“Yeah, he’s a frat boy.” she says shrugging her shoulders “But it’s not like I want to marry him. It’s like Cyndi Lauper used to say...” she stands up and takes her phone out of the charger and ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ starts playing. You roll your eyes and smile at her.

“Alright, I’ll ask Johnny.” you close your drawer and open the bedroom’s door “Just turn it off before Abigail starts hitting our wall.”

Your morning classes went smoothly, no surprises. Some professors scheduled exams for next month and you made sure to add a reminder on your phone. At noon you went to the cafeteria to buy your lunch and ran to Mrs. Park’s office. She was one of the professors responsible for the Academic Writing course, and because of your excellent grades, she recommended you as a tutor. Despite being an elective subject, a lot of freshmen always signed up for it since it was very helpful during your undergraduate life.

Once you get into the long hall, you swallow the last piece of your sandwich and knock on her door. The old lady opened it with a smile, motioning for you to enter.

“How are you today, dear?” she says sitting on her chair and you mirror her action.

“I’m fine, thank you. Is everything alright, Mrs. Park? You called me here…” you say cautiously earning a giggle from the lady.

“Oh, don’t worry dear. I’m sorry if my email sounded so urgent, I just wanted to talk to you about your tutoring classes.” she types something on her laptop and looks back at you. “There are some foreign students in my class who might need help not only with the academic style but the language itself. I will ask you to be patient and take a closer look at them.”

“Of course! I haven’t tutored any foreign student yet, but I’ll gladly help them,” you say smiling.

“I’ll keep you updated with my lesson plans and their assignments…”

Your meeting with Mrs. Park was short and very pleasant, as always. She was kind enough to give you a cookie once you finished. You were now heading back to the main building, finding your way to the library where you would continue the assignments you postponed on Saturday. Too focused on arriving as soon as possible, you didn’t see a tall guy, holding three heavy books, coming in your direction and when you realized, it was too late to get out of his way. You met the floor, just like the books and some of his notes.

“I’m so sorry.” you start picking up the sheets of paper next to you “I didn’t see…” you only meet his eyes when the guy kneels and picks up one of the books on the floor.

“Hi, Y/N” Jaehyun’s lips stretched into a subtle smile, showing the dimples on his cheeks.

“Oh, hi! I’m so sorry for this mess.” you say, both standing up. “I didn’t see you there.”

“You’ve been apologizing a lot lately,” he comments, remembering your flustered state two days before.

“Sor-” you stop yourself before you could finish your apologies, again. Jaehyun giggles at you.

“You’re distracted, it happens.” he shrugs, smiling widely and you swore your heart was going to combust at that very moment. “Gotta go, see you around.”

You don’t even have time to answer, the boy was already at the end of the hall.  

Some hours later and with an empty stomach, you finish your first essay and check the time. You had five minutes to get to class. Hurriedly, you gathered your belongings and ran across buildings to get there on time. Fortunately, the teacher wasn’t in class yet. But Johnny was.

“Señorita, muy tarde, ¿no?” he says and you roll your eyes “Our Spanish princess is late, I can’t believe it.”

“Stop being so annoying.” you say throwing your bag beside him, “I thought I was the Spanish queen. Did you declass me?”

“Now that that straight A student is gone, I gave it a second thought and I believe the queen title belongs to her,. But you're the second best," he says taking a pen and a notebook out of his backpack, making you raise an eyebrow. “I promised I wouldn’t copy your notes this semester.”

“I have to say I’m surprised. I didn’t think you would want to keep studying Spanish.“

"Why not?”

“I thought you only wanted to… you know… hang out with our teacher.” you hesitate.

“Since when is fuck a forbidden word?” he chuckles “Yes, I wanted to fuck her but I told you, I wanted to learn a new language too.”

“You didn’t need to be rude, Johnny,” you mumble and he laughs.

“Plus, I’m doing this for you too.” you give him a questioning look and he replies with a cheeky grin “So you can see Jaehyun’s face twice a week.”

“And here I was considering hooking you up with my roommate,” you say to him.

“What do you mean?”

“She invited you to have dinner with us tonight because she wants to flirt with you.” you say bored, looking at your wristwatch. “Isn’t the teacher a bit late?”

“Well, I’m free tonight, why don’t give your sweet roommate a chance?”

“Just, please, tone it down while I’m eating. I don’t want to be the third-wheel.”

You had a knife and you weren’t afraid to use it against Johnny right now. When he said he would make sure that you wouldn't be thirdwheeling, he didn’t mention it involved inviting Jeong Jaehyun.

“Is it a double date?” Jiwoon whispered in your ear when she saw the boy approaching your table.

“This is not a date,” you say behind your gritted teeth. “Johnny…” you look at the man in front of you and he smiles widely.

“So, Jiwoo, that’s my friend Jaehyun. We live together.” Johnny introduces Jaehyun to your roommate, who shakes his hand. “This is Jiwoo.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun.”

“I called you here because I thought it would be nice to have a double date!” Johnny boldly says making your eyes grow wider and your face burn. It made Jaehyun’s ear red, but that you didn’t notice.

“This is a friendly dinner,” you say, taking the knife from the table, “and I would appreciate it if you stop being so inconvenient.”

“I thought I could call it a date after what happened Saturday morning.” Johnny grins at you and before you could scream at him, Jaehyun speaks first.

“Stop bringing that up,” he places a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, “you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Why are your ears so red, Jaehyunnie?” Johnny tilts his head to the side and places both hands on the other boy’s ears.

“I’ll punch your face once we get home,” the younger mumbles and Johnny lifts an eyebrow.

“It will be fun watching you try,” he mumbles back. “So, ladies, shall we order?”

After the dramatic introductions, the dinner went quite well and there wasn’t another mention regarding The Incident (how you like to call it on your mind). Johnny and Jiwoo were too engrossed in their own flirting to think about embarrassing their friends. It was a really pleasant meal and by the end of it, you found out Jaehyun is easygoing and it wasn’t hard to hold a conversation once he opened up. He told you about his major, architecture, even though you already knew that, and said he was glad that Johnny invited him to dinner because, being full of projects to finish, he probably wouldn’t even remember to eat properly.

“We know each other for what, a year and a half?” he asks and you nod. “How come we never talked like this?”

“I think we never had the chance,” you say smiling.

Johnny and your roommate were walking behind you. You glanced back and saw his arms around her shoulders, giggling while she blushed.

“They are disgusting,” you say with disdain, and Jaehyun laughs. “Seriously. I asked him to tone it down… I’m tired of thirdwheeling,” you say under your breath, but Jaehyun hears you.

“Is that why Johnny called me?” he says suggestively “So you did want it to be a double date.”

“What? NO!” you say hitting his left arm but regretting right after. You just got to know the guy, you are not that close yet. But your heart feels lighter once he chuckles.

“Do you know why Johnny always messes with you?” he asks and you shake your head. “Because you get riled up easily. I was only joking, dummy.” he flicks your forehead lightly, smiling at you, exposing his dimples.

“So, you and Jaehyun talked a lot, huh,” Jiwoo says while both of you are on your way back to the dorms. It was late, but you didn’t mind missing a few hours of sleep. Not today.

“Yeah, he was friendly,” you refrain yourself from saying much more. “I had no one else to talk to since you and Johnny were almost making out in front of me,” you say with a playful smile while she pushes out of the sidewalk.

“You are exaggerating.” she sighs and you smile wider “But we did flirt.”

“Did you give him your number?” you ask, linking your arms together.

“Yes, we exchanged numbers. I hope he texts first.”

“Oh, don’t wait for Johnny.” you say and Jiwoo tilts her head in confusion “He will forget to text you. Once we get home, send him something like ‘thanks for dinner’ or ‘I had so much fun tonight’ and he will be happy.”

The rest of the walk back home was your friend trying to embarrass you bringing up Jaehyun and you trying not to get riled up easily, as the boy had mentioned before. You realized your attempts to remain unbothered were in vain when Jiwoo was running away from you to avoid physical retaliation.

Both of you entered the building laughing as quietly as you could. Once you got to your floor, you headed to the end of the hall, meeting one of your neighbors, Abigail, getting out of her own room with a plate full of cookies.

“Hello, girls! I made those cookies for my roommate, but she’s already asleep. Do you want to share it?”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna keep them for when she wakes up?” Jiwoo asks, already putting a cookie on her mouth “I take it back. Yes, we accept the cookies.”

“Is it good?” she asks expectantly.

“This is DIVINE!” you hit your roommate’s shoulder and open your door.

After accpeting you neighbor's cookies and chatting for a bit, you and Jiwoo went to bed. You laid your head down on your pillow and, even though you felt tired, you couldn’t get out of your head images of a certain dimpled boy. Before The Incident, you and Jaehyun barely had opportunities to know each other like you did tonight. Of course, you would rather cut off your tongue than tell Johnny you liked his idea of inviting the boy. It made you wonder if getting to know him better will make your little crush fade away or make it bigger. You sincerely hoped for the former.

In the morning, rather than your alarm, your cousin’s ringtone woke you up. You groaned and picked up the phone.

“Good morning, pumpkin! Is the grass greener, the world beautiful and life worth living yet?” you hear his giggles and sigh loudly.

Johnny Fucking Seo.

“You are alive to bother me, life still sucks.” you whisper trying not to wake up Jiwoo “Do you know you woke me up before my alarm? What time…” you take your phone from your ears to check the time and when you read 6:17 am on the screen, you know Taeyong days are numbered. “Are you a psychopath? I still had almost an hour of sleep.”

“I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be late!” he says loudly and you hear a thud in the background “And also because I wanna meet my lovely cousin before my first class that starts at 8:30. I’m making a special breakfast for us.”

“Please, don’t.” you have flashbacks from the last time Taeyong made a ‘special breakfast’ you had to spend the rest of your day taking antacid “Just stick with simple breakfast. Simple is good.”

“Okay, then. Meet you at 7:30 in the cafeteria.” he says and when you are about to hang up, he finishes with “I might invite Jaehyun too.”

“LEE TAEYONG” you whisper-yell but he had hung up before you could protest. The person who said that family is everything clearly didn’t have an annoying cousin like Taeyong.

You spend some time scrolling through your social media and messaging death threats to Johnny and Taeyong. Then you decide to get up and write a note to your friend. Today both of your classes wouldn’t start until 10 am, so you decided to warn her and let her sleep peacefully.

At 7:35 you arrived at the cafeteria and spotted Taeyong sitting in one of the tables, two trays in front of him.

“You are late.”

“Only five minutes.” you shrug “I thought you were making me a special breakfast,” you go to his side and greet him with a hug.

“You said I should make it simple so I bought you the cafeteria breakfast. Don’t complain.” he takes his bag off the chair next to him and motions for you to sit down. “I need your help.”

You frown while munching a piece of bread. “Help? I thought you called to make fun of me for going on a date with Jaehyun.”

“And yet, you came, willingly. I’ll tell Johnny you considered it a date.” he had a knowing smile adorning his face. “But, no, I wouldn’t wake up earlier just to annoy you. You’re not that important.” he says while peeling a banana. “First, don’t forget that my sister is coming to visit us this weekend. My mom will kill me if you’re not there to celebrate with us.”

Taeyong’s family lived closer than yours. Being only a one hour drive to his hometown, both of you constantly pay your aunt a visit - most of the time requested by her. This time, Taeyong’s sister is visiting after a whole year living abroad with her son and husband, so, obviously, there would be a huge family gathering.

"But I also need your help with a surprise party. Yuta’s birthday is coming soon and I would ask for the boys’ help, but now that Doyoung is gone I can only trust Taeil.”

“That’s because your friends can’t keep their mouth shut,” you mumble and see your cousin smiling. “What do you want me to do? I don’t know Yuta that well, he will find it weird…”

“You won’t need to talk to him or anything. I was thinking you could buy decorations and make the cake.”

“Where will you celebrate it? You can go bowling, maybe going to an arcade… Arcade sounds nice.”

“Arcade? How old are you 12?” Taeyong scoffs. “We’ll just throw a party and invite everyone.”

“You will throw a frat party and give a cake to the guy and call it a surprise?” you deadpan. “Are you dumb?”

“Yeah, I’m throwing him a party. What else do you want me to do?” he looks at you bewildered.

“Well, if your plan is throwing a party and inviting everyone on campus, you won’t need to worry about your friends because Yuta will know one way or another.“ you sigh and place your sandwich back on the tray. “It will be a party full of people who barely know him… it’s better if you just take him to a place he likes. Maybe an amusement park? You can try to find a ticket for that french film festival, he looks cultured, he might like it.”

“People don’t want to spend their birthday at cultured festivals, Y/N. People wanna get drunk. I’m people. Yuta is people.” Taeyong says stealing your sandwich.

“Give it back, thief.” you take it from his hands “I’m not saying he can’t get drunk, I’m just saying it’s stupid to make a frat party to celebrate his birthday, there’s nothing special in it.”

You continue bickering for a couple of minutes until a tall figure appears patting Taeyong shoulder and sitting next to you.

“Good morning to you”

You hear his baritone voice and your heart starts beating faster, but you say to yourself that it had nothing to do with Jaehyun being right beside you. Your pulse was fast because of your argument with Taeyong, yes, that was the reason.

"What are you fighting about?”

“Before you murder me, I didn’t know he would be here.” Taeyong whispers to you. “I didn’t know you had classes early today, Jae.”

“Yeah, I actually came early because of my group project. One of the girls ruined it and now we need to fix it.” he scratches the back of his head and you see him slumping against the chair “What were you talking about?”

“Yuta’s birthday.” you blurt out at the same time as Taeyong says “My mom’s dinner.”

“Sorry…” you say smiling apologetically to your cousin “I’m sure Jaehyun won’t say anything.”

“So, Jae, we’re planning a birthday party,” Taeyong starts but you interrupt.

“You are being unreasonable.“ you scoff at your cousin “Your idea doesn’t make ANY sense. You can’t make a surprise party when you plan to invite half campus.”

“Could you, please, shut up?” he warns, lifting his index finger in your direction “I was telling her that we could throw a big surprise party and invite everyone to celebrate Yuta’s birthday.”

“Basically, he wants to throw one of your frat parties and expects Yuta to be surprised. This is a terrible idea.” you say crossing your arms over your chest “I suggest something more intimate, for his close friends…”

“You’re just saying this because you don’t like our parties. They are the most fun-“ Jaehyun interrupts Taeyong before he can finish.

“I agree with your cousin, hyung.” you and Taeyong quickly shift your attention to the boy “She has a point. You can’t expect that everyone you invite won’t tell Yuta. And it’s his birthday, he should celebrate with people that actually care about him,” he sips his iced coffee before continuing “We can make a small surprise party. I heard Winwin is planning to visit us and Johnny knows one of his classmates, he can ask-“

"No, not Johnny.” you interrupt him “He will end up telling Yuta about the party.”

“I can try talking to the guy, I guess.” he smiles and you nod happily.

“See, Taeyong, that’s what we call a good idea,” you say and he makes a disgusted face.

“Since when are you guys that close? You had your first date yesterday!“ your cousin teases you and you throw a banana at him.

“It was a friendly dinner.” Jaehyun corrects Taeyong, copying your words from yesterday. You smile, even though a tiny part of you felt a little bit hurt that he didn’t consider it a date. “And this has nothing to do with our new friendship, I’m just being fair.”

Taeyong hums looking at the younger boy suspiciously.

“I do think we can throw a party for him at a bowling alley, though. Does he like bowling? Maybe an arcade-” you start ranting but Jaehyun laughs at you.

“How old are you?” as soon as the question leaves his lips, Taeyong snickers.

“I told you it was childish.”

You place your elbows on the table and rests your cheeks on your hands. “I really wanted to go to an arcade,” you mumble.

“Go by yourself then,” Taeyong says, placing the banana you threw at him back on your tray. “I’ll create a group chat with you so we can think about the details.” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket and widening his eyes when he looked at the time “I gotta go or I’ll be late for class.”

Jaehyun stands up at the same time as your cousin, gathering his belongings “I should go too.”

“It’s a surprise, don’t tell anyone.” Taeyong points a finger at you before waving goodbye.

“I’m not a snitch,” you say loud enough for him to hear you.

You had to admit, the rest of your week went by quickly and nothing exciting happened. Except for one of your tutoring students. He was one of the exchange students Mrs. Park had warned you about. His language skills were still a bit rusty, but he was brilliant nevertheless.

Hendery Wong was so easygoing and fun to be with, that even boring tutoring sessions became bearable.

"So, you are telling me that I can’t use this structure here” he frowned and pointed at the same sentence for the third time “But in this other situation it is correct? It makes no sense!” he laughs and throws his pencil on the table.

“Hendery, you need to analyze the whole sentence. Pay attention to the syntax.”

“Y/N, you are a great tutor, but it’s been two hours and I’m starving.” he stopped you by placing his open palm in front of your face.

“You’re right, we should let this matter for the next session.” you started gathering your belongings while the guy next to you stood up.

“Do you wanna grab lunch together? But you are forbidden to talk about syntax or verb tenses.” you laughed at him and nod

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Great!”

Once you stood up and got ready to go, you realized the boy started giggling while looking at you.

“What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face?” you asked, palming your cheeks and forehead.

“No, it’s just that I was thinking,” the boy opened a big smile and you can’t help but mirror his action “You are really pretty."

That stuck to your head in a way that even now, on your way back from your aunt’s house, Taeyong could pinpoint there was something on your mind. He was on the passenger seat, looking at you curiously, and you could feel his stare.

“Spill it,” you say without taking your eyes off the road.

“Oh? Nothing. Just thinking about how I haven’t seen you since Tuesday.” he hums to an unfamiliar song and you frown “You’ll drop me first, right?”

“Sure. I need to give Johnny’s car back since you don’t have your own.”

“You should be the one with a car, I don’t even have a license.”

You scoff and he turns the radio on. You lived too far from your campus, so bringing your car with you wasn’t an option and Taeyong, being the useless cousin you think he is, doesn’t know how to drive. Johnny is nice enough to lend you his car once in a while. Taeyong said he would only need the car at night, so he didn’t mind if you took it today. It was a relief because going to your Aunt’s by bus was hell.

“Since you’ll drop me first, do you want to spend the night? It will be late to go home by yourself.”

“It’s 6:45, Taeyong. I’ve walked back to the dorms later than that.”

“We’re having a movie night. Maybe you can finally convince us to watch High School Musical.” he lifts his eyebrows suggestively.

“You know I always lose, everyone hates it.”

“Not everyone,” he emphasizes, but you shrug.

“I'll stay if you buy us pizza.”

“Deal.”

The rest of the ride is quiet. Taeyong falls asleep and you turn off the radio to avoid getting too distracted by the music. You have a license, but it doesn’t mean you are a confident driver.

Around thirty minutes later, you park Johnny’s car and go inside the big house with your cousin. Yuta was sprawled on the couch, reading a book and a guy you knew as Jungwoo was sleeping on the armchair. You could hear faint sounds coming from upstairs and you guessed it was Mark playing guitar. Or maybe Donghyuck’s screams while playing games, you weren’t sure.

Taeyong guides you to the kitchen and you find Taeil eating a bowl of something you couldn’t really guess what it was.

“Hyung, that’s my cousin.” Taeyong gets closer to the boy and whispers “She is going to help us with operation Osaka.”

“If you want to keep it a secret, maybe you shouldn’t call it operation Osaka.” the eldest jokes and you nod in agreement.

“Isn’t it frustrating living with Taeyong? He is so slow sometimes.” you sigh and hand your phone to your cousin. “I’m getting hungry.”

Taeyong tricked you into thinking that there was a movie night previously arranged. He said, however, the nicest things are done unplanned, so he invited the others. Mark and Jungwoo were the first ones to refuse. The first has a date with his girlfriend and Jungwoo is probably just not feeling it. Yuta stayed on the couch reading his book, not minding any of you. Donghyuck probably didn’t even listen to Taeyong, too engrossed in his games. The only ones left were you, Taeil, your cousin, and Johnny, who said would stay for just a while.

“What about Jaehyun?” you asked, bringing the beer cans to the living room. The words left your mouth before you could realize the consequences. You saw Johnny and Taeyong smirking and Yuta taking his eyes off the book and staring at you. “I mean, the more, the merrier.”

“Jaehyunnie has been locked in his room since yesterday. He said something about a project.” Taeil was the one who answered you.

“We shouldn’t bother him, then,” you say handling Yuta a beer and drinking your own.

“Oh, cousin,” Johnny called, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m not your cousin, John-”

“Where were you on Friday?” he smiles at Taeyong and looks back at you.

“You usually have lunch with us,” Taeyong says and proceeds to sip his drink to hide his growing smile.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry about that! I had lunch with someone else.”

“We are aware,” Johnny says not-so-innocently. “A little bird told me you had lunch with Hendery Wong, the hot exchange student.”

“I seriously hate this little bird of yours,” you say motioning your body to look at the TV. “and he suggested we had lunch together only because I was tutoring him.”

“Having lunch with the students it’s not part of a tutor’s job.” Yuta says as he closes his book “Taeil hyung, stop scrolling and choose a movie already!”

“He was just being nice,” you mumble, but Taeyong hears it.

“First Jaehyun, now Hendery? Your standards are too high for your own good.” he whispers playfully and you hit his legs.

Once the three boxes of pizza were opened in front of you and the movie started playing, you let yourself relax on your spot on the floor. You felt your eyes flutter and slowly close. You weren’t a very energetic person, and the previous week seemed to have drained all of your energy. You woke up to someone poking your cheeks.

Johnny was already gone and Taeyong was sleeping beside you. Yuta and Taeil were the only ones paying attention to the movie. You turn your head to see Donghyuck smiling down at you while holding a plate with three slices of pizza.

“Oh, hey, Hyuck,” you say, adjusting yourself. “You can eat it if you want.”

“I ate it already. I’m offering you the opportunity of taking this upstairs and giving it to Jaehyun hyung,” he says placing the plate on your hands and making his way between you and Taeyong. “You should also take a beer or two with you.”

“Why don’t you take it?”

“Shhhh.” you hear an annoyed Yuta.

After exchanging glances and engaging in a silent fight with Donghyuck, you stand up and go straight to the kitchen to grab two cans of beer. Why were you listening to him? Why was your heart beating faster the closer you got to the staircase? What if Jaehyun was asleep? Or, maybe, he just wanted to be alone. You pondered if you should leave the food at his doorstep, knock the door, and run back to the living room.

But why were you so afraid to knock on a simple door? Because it was Jaehyun’s.

Even though he had acknowledged that you were friends and, now, you could manage to hold a proper conversation with him, you couldn’t help but stay very conscious about your own words and actions. What if Jaehyun realized you were actually very awkward and not interesting? Or worse, he could find out about your crush and distance himself from you. Then, all your efforts to build a friendship will be in vain.

You were overthinking about knocking a door. Jaehyun will make you go insane.

When you are about to knock, you see one of the doors in the hall opening and Jaehyun getting out. He looks taken aback at first by the sight of you in front of his door, trying to hold a plate and two cans of beer. But then, he smiles and reaches to grab the cans from your arms.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Taeyong invited me for a movie night.”

“And what about these?” he asks, lifting the beers and pointing his chin at the plate you were holding.

“Oh, these are for you. Taeil said you didn’t leave your room the whole day.”

“Yeah, I’m still fixing that project from Tuesday.” he moves to open his bedroom door and you glance at the amount of paper, glue, and materials you couldn’t even name. It was a mess. “I would invite you in, but I don’t think I can fit anyone else in here.”

“Oh my God, Jaehyun.” you widen your eyes and he feels his ears getting hot from embarrassment “Do you need help? I can start cleaning…”

“No, no, please,” the boy says, placing the beers somewhere and taking the plate of pizza off your hands “Go back to watch the movie.”

“You seriously need help.” you look around once again and then turn your gaze back at his face “Plus, the movie is not that fun.”

And that’s how you spend the next few hours with him. While he took a break to eat the things you brought, you started separating garbage from the things Jaehyun would actually use. Just by finishing that, he got back half of his room. Then, once the boy went back to the project, he gave you some little tasks like cutting some paper squares and handing him utensils. Jaehyun even made sure to explain to you what you were doing and talked about his project. Most of the time you just nodded in agreement, not really understanding what he said. What you did get was that the model he was building represented 40% of his grade. If you were him, you would be freaking out too.

“I had to rebuild the whole thing except for these details,” he says, pointing to one of the benches on your hand.

“And your group didn’t help with anything?” you ask, extending your open hand for him to get another tree.

“I wouldn’t let Naeun get close to this again. If she touches it, I might actually kill her.” Jaehyun mumbles while using tweezers to glue the tree on his project. He had his lips puckered, focusing on his task.

You stay silent for a moment, watching the boy cautiously finishing the details of his work. Now that you were focused on analyzing his figure, you perceived how tired Jaehyun must be. His tousled hair looked dirty and his eyes were adorned by eyebags and dark circles. You saw him yawning frequently and sometimes you could see him batting his eyelashes swiftly, to whisk away his sleepiness.

“Did you sleep last night?” you ask, giving him the last tree that was on your hand.

“Not really.”

“Shouldn’t you go to sleep, then?”

“I will once I finish my next assignment.” he says, motioning to grab a brush that was behind him “Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s hard not too when you look like a panda,” you answer and he smiles, but doesn’t answer. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘next assignment’?”

“I need to hand in an essay on Monday.” he mumbles, placing the last tree next to the main building of the model “But it’s almost ready, I just need to proofread it.”

“I can proofread it for you. Where is it?” you ask standing up and looking around.

“It’s fine, sit down.” he holds your hand and pulls it in his direction “You’ve helped a lot already.”

“The only thing I did was stare and hold some trees,” you say quietly, looking at his fingers holding your hands.

“You helped with the grass. The grass was important.” he smiles and pulls you with more strength now “Come on, sit down. You also helped me to not fall asleep, that’s important.”

“You know that you are too tired to proofread your essay properly, right?” you say sitting beside him again. “Plus, I’m one of the tutors of Academic Writing. Proofreading is what I do the most.”

“If I promise to go to sleep and finish my essay tomorrow, will you shut up?”

“Why can’t I proofread it for you?” you tilt your head to the side.

“You’re smarter than me, you’ll see my dumb mistakes,” he mutters and you smile at him.

“We all make dumb mistakes, Jaehyun.” you sigh and start gathering the unused utensils around you “Fine, at least let me help you organize this mess.”

Yuta is the one that comes and takes you out of your bubble. Jaehyun was giving his model the final touches while you were placing one of his books back to the shelf. The elder knocked on the door and entered before Jaehyun could answer it.

“Jae, are you- oh!” Yuta looks at you surprised “I didn’t know you were here. We thought you left before the movie ended.”

“She was helping me.” Jaehyun says without looking at his friend “Hyung, can you take the dishes downstairs for us, please?”

“Yeah…” the other boy exchanges glances between the both of you before leaving and kindly takes the plate and the two empty cans downstairs with him.

“You take your phone out of your pocket and surprise yourself with the time. “I should get going, it’s getting late.”

“How will you go back?” he asks standing up from his spot on the floor and stretching his arms.

“It’s only a 15-minute walk, I’m used to it.” Before you can reach the door, Jaehyun holds your arm and pulls you to his side.

“Look at the floor, you were about to step on the scissors.” he scolds you while you just stare at his facial features. How can he manage to look gorgeous and a complete mess at the same time? “Taeyong is going with you, right?”

“Taeyong is probably asleep by now.” you chuckle and try to avoid any other sharp utensil on the floor.

“You’re going home alone? At this time?” he follows you to the hall and stops at his door frame.

“What do you want me to do? Sleep here?” you question him playfully.

“Well, you slept here last week. I wouldn’t mind sharing my bed. Again.”

And then, you swear you see him smirking.

“Are you flirting with me?” you blurt out and pretend to sound uninterested.

“I might be.”

You feel your cheeks burning and avoid meeting his gaze.

“You are really shameless, aren’t you?”

“I was just kidding, silly.” he laughs and pats your head “I’m actually offering to walk you home.”

You quickly turn your head to meet his face. “No, I won’t accept your company.”

“Why?” he says putting a hand on his chest soundings genuinely offended “I was kidding, I’m not flirting with you-”

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” you mumble, quite offended this time “I guess I should say thank you?” you giggle and stop at the top of the staircase “I appreciate your offer, but you look really, really tired. Just go to sleep before you start hallucinating from sleep deprivation.”

Instinctively, you cup his cheeks on your hands and look at him seriously “Please. Go. To. Sleep.” you take your hands out of his face, leaving Jaehyun’s cheeks numb and his ears, red.

“It’s dangerous for you to walk alone at night.” he stutters, a bit flustered from your sudden affectionate touch.

Before you realized, you were already on the ground floor. Donghyuck was cuddling Taeil, both asleep on the floor.

“And you’re suggesting you will protect me if something happens?” you whisper passing by the two of them in the living room “You can barely keep your eyes open. I’ll be more worried about you walking back here alone. No way.”

“I told you to stop worrying about me.” he gets closer to you just to hold the doorknob, stopping you from opening it.

“Then you shouldn’t worry about me either.” you take his hand from the handle and open it.

“You ladies keep complaining about the death of chivalry,” he says leaning on the door frame “but here you are, ignoring my attempts.”

“Oh, you’re such a gentleman.” you mock him and he shakes his head smiling. “Goodbye, Jaehyun.”

“Text me as soon as you get home,” he shouts to make sure you listen.

And you did. Your cheeks blushed at his words and you couldn’t dare to look back, but if you did, you would see Jaehyun standing still in front of the house, and only getting in once your figure was out of frame.

The boy has always admired you, even though you only small-talked before. He found you smart and it was funny watching you and Johnny bickering all the time. The morning you woke up beside him was clearly a shock. Jaehyun didn’t know you well enough to share a bed with you, but, somehow, he felt that was the beginning of your new friendship.

Once he got inside, he saw Donghyuck whining while Taeil pushed him away.

“Get off me, Donghyuck.”

“I’m gonna make some ramyeon, do you want it?” Jaehyun asks while walking past them.

The youngest stands up and follows Jaehyun to the kitchen. Taeil takes advantage of this and quickly goes to his room, not even saying goodbye to the other two.

“What happened upstairs?” the younger had a mischievous grin on his face.

Jaehyun prefers to ignore Donghyuck as he doesn’t understand the question. “Do you want ramyeon or not?”

“Yeah, put on a pack for me” he takes three packs from the cabinet and throws them on the kitchen counter while Jahyun fills a pan with water. “What happened after Y/N went upstairs to give you some food?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m omniscient.” he uses a sarcastic tone, “I told her to take that to you, being the caring dongsaeng I am, obviously.”

“Your jokes are getting funnier each day.” Jaehyun deadpans and Donghyuck smiles. “Nothing happened.”

“I saw her leaving just now and it’s almost two…” the younger uses a suggestive tone, making Jaehyun roll his eyes.

“She was helping me with my project,” he answers simply, making the boy groan.

“That bitch is slow as fuck.” he mumbles and Jaehyun smiles.

“I talked to Johnny about it and, now, I’ll ask you too,” he says after getting three eggs from the fridge. “Stop putting her in uncomfortable situations. The other day, Johnny invited me to dinner and when I got there, she looked like she would collapse at any moment.”

“She spent four hours watching you cutting paper, do you think she really feels uncomfortable around you?” he shrugs and continues “Plus, you both seem to be a lot closer. Text me when you get home? You don’t even open our messages.”

Jaehyun’s ears start getting red while he faces the younger boy “How do you- Yah, Donghyuck, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping.”

“Do you remember that project I did three weeks ago?” Jaehyun says excitedly.

Today was Friday, one of the only week-days you could see your friends - at least the ones who didn’t live with you or you didn’t share classes with. At the moment, Jiwoo is sitting next to you in the cafeteria, Johnny in front of her and Taeyong nowhere to be seen. Jaehyun appeared now, taking the other seat beside you.

“The one with the building and the trees?” you ask, taking a bite of your apple pie.

“He is an architecture student, every project involves buildings and trees” Johnny snickers and Jaehyun shows him his tongue.

“Not every project.” the boy takes a paper out of his bag and places it on the table, right beside you. “We got the grades today. It got 3.5 out of 4.” he flashes you a smile and you swallow your food harshly.

“That’s amazing!” you cheer on him, taking a closer look at the paper. “Is there any feedback about the grass? I was the one who made it,” you say the last part leaning on Jiwoo, who didn’t give you much attention.

“He didn’t mention the grass specifically,” Jaehyun smiles at how focused you were on the feedback note on your hand “But I can assure you it was exquisitely applied.”

“Wow, Jae’s using big words,” Taeyong appears behind you, greeting everyone and giving you a hug.

“You should celebrate it,” you say, giving his feedback note back.

“And what type of celebration would you recommend me, miss?” he playfully asks, stealing one of Taeyong’s fries without the older seeing.

“She will give you the WORST recommendations,” Jiwoo interferes before you even open your mouth “There is a professor that haunts Y/N and every assignment she finishes, her celebration is sleeping.”

“Or eating ice cream and then, sleeping,” Taeyong says with his mouth full of food.

“Last year, we went to the movie theater to celebrate the end of midterms and she slept before the movie had even started,” your roommate says, making everyone laugh.

“We’re going to the club tonight, Jae.” Johnny says and turns his head to Jiwoo “You’re coming, right?”

“I don’t know, I have to read some of Hendery’s notes and-” you start and Johnny interrupts you.

“Yeah, yeah, you rarely come. I was asking Jiwoo.”

You love seeing your friends happy, especially when, somehow, you are a part of it. However, since that double date - or friendly dinner, whatever helps you sleep at night - you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Your great friends were dating each other (they didn’t admit it yet, but it wasn’t really needed) and you couldn’t help but feel neglected. Jiwoo started to spend more time at Johnny’s than at your dorm, being considerate as you have already walked in when they were in a heavy make-out session.

“Yeah, sure,” she answers tucking her hair behind her ear. You gag on her action and she hits your shoulder.

“Movie theater is a good option though,” Jaehyun says bringing your attention back to him. “There are some new movies that seem nice.”

“Did you see they released a new one that’s based on a book?” you turn your whole body on the chair to face the boy beside you. “The book is so good. It’s a thriller and it’s narrated in the first person, so you only see the story from the character’s point of view. And, then, she starts going insane…”

“Is it that book you have been begging me to read?” Taeyong asks and you nod furiously.

“I really wanna watch this movie,” you add excitedly

“Let’s watch it then,” he suggests looking at you and smiles when he sees your blushing cheeks. “All of us, I mean. To celebrate my temporary freedom from that class.” he clears his throat and looks at the other at the table.

“I’m in, when do you wanna go?”

Taeyong asks, eating one of his fries. Johnny and Jiwoo simultaneously try to kick his ankle from under the table but end up kicking themselves instead.

“What about today after class? We can get the evening session,” he asks, watching your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll have to get ready for the club, you know,,” Johnny says quickly and looks at Taeyong expectantly, but your cousin is still focused on his food.

“I have to run some errands too,” Jiwoo adds “But I’m sure Y/N is free. Her classes end at 3p.m!”

“I really wanted to,” you start and your frustrated tone gives away you’re not going to make it “but as I said, need to read some essays from the students and prepare some notes to help Hendery. Sorry.”

“You can do it during the weekend,” Jiwoo says, nudging your side.

“Stop hitting me!” you whisper to her.

“Well, I’m free.” Taeyong lifts his head and smiles at Jaehyun “We can go together, then.”

“Taeyong, won’t you come to the club with us tonight?” Johnny asks the other boy, giving him a knowing look.

“No, I told you they banned from that-” he grunts when Johnny successfully kicks his ankle from under the table. “Oh, right, yeah, I totally forgot about that. Sorry, I won’t make it.”

“Are you sure you can’t come, Y/N?” he asks you again and you feel Jiwoo elbowing your ribs once again.

“Stupid bitch, he’s asking you on a date,” she whispers and you silently ask her to stop.

“Guess I’ll celebrate at the club then. You should come too, at least for an hour.” he says poking your arm “You helped me finish it. It’s practically your project too.”

“If you don’t accept Jaehyun’s invitation right now,” Jiwoo leans to whisper in your ear, “I’ll lock our room and you’ll have to sleep on the hallway for the rest of the weekend.”

“I have the key too, you know,” you whisper back.

“I wanna see you try to open the door with the drawer blocking it.” She sits back and happily, goes back to talk to Johnny.

What if she was reading everything wrong? If Jaehyun wanted to go on a date, he would promptly ask you. Everyone knows how straightforward the boy can be. However, he invited everyone. You did want to say yes, but there were so many things to be done. Deep down, you knew it was just an excuse. You didn’t want to fool yourself into thinking that the boy’s invitation meant something more than just watching a movie. Still, he was your friend, how could you disappoint a friend who worked so hard and deserved to celebrate.

“I guess I can do my assignments tomorrow,” you lean closer to Jaehyun and say in a low tone “Let’s go to the movies.”

“Are you sure?” he questions furrowing his brows.

“Yes! Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nods and rubs your back. "Just don’t forget to text me when your last class is finished.”

“I will.”

“How did you like it?” Jaehyun asked you on your way out to the theatre, his arms around your shoulders.

“It was fine,” you answer, slightly nervous by the sudden proximity.

Truthfully, you had a hard time focusing on the movie. How could you when your hands were constantly meeting when both of you went to grab a handful of popcorn or when he laid his head on your shoulder to take a short nap? It was especially hard to pay attention to the movie when he started playing with your hand that was on the armrest during the last twenty minutes.

“It was kinda boring,” he says, guiding you to the exit and adding a distance between both of you once you reach the street. “I didn’t feel the thrill at all.”

“Well, I did,” you mumble, thinking about everything that happened but the movie itself “I’m just disappointed by the fact that this has nothing to do with the book. Not even the plot is the same.”

“The movie was your idea and it was terrible.” he playfully nudges you and you gasp, pretending to be offended “I’m afraid of how tedious the book must be.”

“Well, we could have watched any other movie. You didn’t need to choose that one.”

“But you wanted to watch it.” he pouts and you can feel your heart pounding on your throat. “Anyways, it’s almost seven now. If you get ready fast enough, we can get a ride for the club.”

“And who says I’m going to the club?” you raise an eyebrow and cross your arms around your chest.

“I am.” he takes your hand in his and hushes you to walk faster.

“Yuta’s birthday is this Saturday, don’t forget.” Taeyong reminds you before hanging up.

How can you forget since this is all he has been talking about this week? You started to regret helping your cousin with the surprise party considering the amount of work you had on your hands. You should have seen this coming. You spent three peaceful weeks without any new responsibilities. Suddenly, all your professors decide to schedule assignments and exams for this week. You were on the verge of killing anyone who crossed your path until someone really did.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you don’t stop frowning,” Jaehyun said beside you.

“Where did you come from?” you asked, slightly annoying for getting startled by his sudden presence.

“I was laying down right there,” he pointed to the green area on your right side “when I saw you getting out of your class.”

“Don’t you have classes? How come you are always doing nothing when we meet on campus?” you adjusted the books that were on your arms and Jaehyun noticed.

“No, I don’t have classes,” he said, taking the books from your hold “I work my ass off on those projects because it’s fun. Why are you so irritable today? Where are you going?”

“Library, I need to return them,” you say without complaining and appreciating your friend’s gesture. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just exhausted,” you said under your breath, but Jaehyun listened and used his free arm to embrace your shoulders to bring you closer.

“You know you owe me, right?” he whispered close to your ear and smiled at your flustered state.

“Uh?” you turned your head to meet his face and held your breath when you saw he wasn’t many inches away from you.

Jaehyun suspected about your behavior even before you became friends. You weren’t the most subtle person in the world, so it didn’t take him long to realize you had a tiny crush on him and got embarrassed every time he got more physical or playfully flirted with you. He found it awfully cute when you gave him the same stunned expression you are wearing right now: lips parted, wide eyes, and hot cheeks.

“You owe me a movie date.”

“A what?” you said louder than necessary, avoiding his gaze, and he laughs.

“A movie day,” he corrected, chuckling while you sighed.

“I don’t owe you any date or whatever,” you mumbled taking his arms off your shoulders “Stop with the frat boy behavior, I don’t like it when you do this.”

“Do what?” he asked innocently, smiling when you scowled at him and resumed your walk to the library “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Plus, I am a frat boy.”

“I am aware of it,” you said in disdain. “Why would I owe you a movie day?”

“Don’t you remember that terrible movie we watched together last month? I deserve compensation,” he said reaching your side and placing his arms back on your shoulders.

“You were the one who insisted on paying for my tickets. Do you want me to pay you back?” you asked genuinely and Jaehyun shook his head quickly.

“What? No! Of course not, silly.” he took off his arm from your shoulder just to flick your forehead “I said you owe me a movie, not money.”

“So you wanna go out this week? I’m sorry I can’t-” you guessed and he shook his head again, stopping you.

“You can come over and we watch it together. A little bird told me…”

“What does that frat house of yours have with little birds? Oh my God you guys really love gossiping, don’t you?” you scoff, and Jaehyun laughs.

“Johnny told me you love High School Musical.”

“Yeah, it’s a childhood classic.”

“Me too.” you swiftly turned your head to him as you heard him say “I like High School Musical too. Let’s watch it on Friday.”

“Are you kidding me?” you asked in disbelief.

“I’m not. You can come over after you finish your assignments. A High School Musical marathon will be waiting for you.” Jaehyun slowed down his pace as he saw the library entrance “You can’t say no, you owe me.”

And that’s how you ended up in Jaehyun’s bedroom on a Friday night.

He is currently in the kitchen getting popcorn and drinks ready while you are preparing the room for the High School Musical marathon. You place Jaehyun’s laptop on the bedside table and search for some blankets to cover the bedroom floor. You spent three whole days wondering if it was really a good idea to come over and watch movies with Jaehyun. You knew it wasn’t good for your heart, especially when you were already falling for him - for nobody’s surprise.

You have to keep reminding yourself that you are just friends and you should be happy about it. Being friends it’s better than strangers, isn’t it? But there is something strangely familiar with the way he places his arms around your shoulders and invites you over, on a Friday night, just to watch childish movies. There is a knock on the door and you stand up to open it, thinking that it must be Jaehyun with his hands full, but you see your cousin.

“Hey, Jae- pumpkin?” Taeyong tilts his head to the side looking puzzled “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun invited me to watch the High School Musical movies with him.” you shrug. “Do you wanna come in? There’s space for you.”

“Oh, no, no. I was just- nevermind.” Taeyong was about to joke about how you too seemed like a couple, but he decides that it’s better if you keep your good mood. “The boys are going out to celebrate Yuta’s birthday.” he finishes and you frown.

“But the party…” you whisper and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s kind of our tradition to celebrate our birthdays the day before too. Hyuck calls it a farewell party.”

“Did you tell them about tomorrow?”

“Not yet. I’ll tell them in the morning,” he says and rubs his hands on his back pockets

“Aren’t you going with them?”

“No, I have to stop you and Jaehyun from doing funny business,” he lets out and you hit his shoulder “Stop hitting me! I’m kidding. Doyoung is arriving late at night so I’ll stay to help him sneak in.”

“Won’t they suspect it?”

“Don’t worry, I’m a good actor,” he says patting your head “Well, enjoy your date.”

“This is not a date!” you scream as he goes away, leaving you alone.

Downstairs, Mark, Johnny, Donghyuck, and Yuta are seated in the living room, waiting for Taeil. Taeyong glances at the kitchen and sees Jaehyun too engrossed in his task, so he takes it as an opportunity and runs to his friends.

“Do you know who’s upstairs?” he whispers sitting beside Johnny.

“Taeil hyung?” Mark questions and Donghyuck slaps the back of his neck.

“Y/N.”

The two younger guys gasp and Yuta takes his eyes off his phone screen, paying attention to his friends.

“That asshole said he had an important arrangement,” Yuta whispers in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you lied too, Taeyong.”

“I’m telling you the truth! I really need to finish an important report.” he lies “This upcoming week is being so hectic. I’m really sorry, Yuta.”

“The boy’s getting his dick wet, I would say it is very important,” Johnny giggles and Taeyong makes a face.

“She’s my cousin, man.”

“I doubt it.” Donghyuck speaks up “I bet 10 bucks nothing will happen. That chick is dumb.”

“Yo, I think Jaehyun hyung will take it to the next level” Mark replies back.

“Make it 15,” Yuta intervenes “He’ll get some tonight.”

“20 on Hyuck,” Johnny says “He will kiss her, she will freak out and won’t look at his face for the next three weeks.”

“How much are you betting, Mark?” Donghyuck asks the older and Taeyong stands up to flick the youngest’s forehead.

“Stop betting on my cousin’s sex life.”

They hear a thud is coming from upstairs and everyone looks up. A faint “are you okay?” is heard and several seconds later, Taeil is in the living room with the others.

“Yah, Taeyong, why was your cousin climbing on Jaehyun’s closet?” the oldest says chuckling. “She fell, but I think she’s fine.”

“I told you, she’s dumb” Donghyuck mocks.

A few minutes later, everyone is gone and the only ones in the house are Taeyong, you, and Jaehyun. Differently from you, the latter doesn’t even spare a glance at Taeyong when he asks if he could join your movie night. The younger just grins and sends him a middle finger.

Different from what his roommates expected, Jaehyun planned this movie night with absolutely no other intention rather than spending some quality time with you. He saw your distressed state and it hurt him to know he could do nothing to help you with your exams. The least he could do was try to comfort you with food, as a good friend would.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, placing the popcorn bucket and the drinks on his writing desk and going straight to your direction. You are standing on his swivel chair, on your toes, trying to reach the comforter that was on the top shelf of his closet.

“I’m… almost…” you touch the cloth at the same time Jaehyun holds your waist. His hands were gripping your sides, securing you in place.

“Get this before you fall.” the boy warns you, squeezing you gently.

“I already fell.” you pull the comforter and it hits the ground. Jaehyun extends his hand for you to take it. “Taeil helped me, though.”

“Did you get hurt?” he holds your face in his hands, looking at you attentively and it doesn’t fail to make you flustered.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” you push his hands, avoiding his gaze. “Let’s start!”

Both of you sit down against the bed and you press play on the movie. Once the movie started, you could feel your heart getting warmer, memories from your childhood days flooding your mind as you still remembered some of the characters’ lines and, mostly, all the songs lyrics. You refrain yourself from singing the first three songs, embarrassed by Jaehyun’s presence, but once you hit the middle of the first movie, both of you were already making duos and you even stand up to perform ‘When There Was Me and You” making Jaehyun cackle as you use one of his middle school pictures as a fake Troy Bolton poster.

You wake up against Jaehyun’s chest feeling your back sore from the position. Your butt is numb and your legs were tangled in his. The boy has one arm around your body while the other is resting on your thigh. The laptop screen is black and you guess it has turned off. You lift your head to find Jaehyun’s head hanging back, resting on the bed’s mattress. It will certainly cause him a stiff neck. You smoothly remove yourself from his hold and stretch out as you stand up. You place the empty popcorn bucket on Jaehyun’s desk and close his laptop. You couldn’t find your phone, but from his window, you could see it was really dark outside. You had to go back to your dorm, but you couldn’t leave your friend laying down like that.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper “Jae, wake up.” you poke his face. “You’ll get hurt if you keep sleeping in this position.”

Your hands find his hair and softly pats his head. Jaehyun was warm, soft, and smelled so good.

“Jae, wake up, I can’t carry you to bed.” You keep moving one of your hands against his hair while the other is caressing his face until you see his eyes fluttering open. He groans as he moves his neck and you smile softly.

“What time is it, babe?” his husky voice and the sudden nickname catch you off guard.

“Uh… It’s late.” you answer moving away from him “I just woke you up to tell you to go to bed. You’ll hurt your neck.”

“Are you leaving?” he asks with his eyes barely open.

“Yeah, I need to go. You can keep sleeping, though.”

You start standing up and searching for your shoes, but Jaehyun presses himself against your back, enveloping you in a hug.

“No, don’t go. It’s dangerous,” he whispers in your ears and rests his forehead on the crook of your neck, making you freeze.

“I need to go,” you try to take his arms off you, only for him to hold you tighter. “Jaehyun, stop,” you use your most serious tone, but he pretends not to listen. “You’re such a child.”

“Stay the night. I’m too tired to walk you back to your dorm” he lifts his head to look at your side profile “and I won’t let you go alone.”

“I’ve walked alone so many times before…” you mumble and he buries his face on your neck again.

“Now you have me, you don’t have to walk alone again.”

You feel your heart beating faster at his words. If you weren’t already nervous enough with his sudden physical affection, his words completed the job of making your heart rate skyrocket. You keep on the silent battle to try to free yourself from his grasp and you feel him smirking against your skin.

“You know I’m stronger, babe.” There it goes, the damn nickname again.

“Fine, fine.” you give in, not bearing the current situation anymore “If it means you’ll let go of me, I’ll stay.”

He instantly releases you and pats your head. You start gathering your belongings, finding your purse and your shoes, but still looking for your phone.

“I’ll find it tomorrow,” you say to yourself and look at Jaehyun getting some clothes from his closet “Well, goodnight, then” you raise your hand and wave goodbye, but he catches your arm before you can turn to leave.

“Where are you going? You said you’re staying,” he asks genuinely confused.

“To Taeyong’s bedroom,” you answer as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s- why-” he frowns and gets closer to you “That’s not what I meant when I asked for you to stay.”

“What do you-”

“I asked you to sleep here.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun, I heard it. I’m staying in the house tonight.”

“With me.”

You gulp at his words. You definitely don’t like this game he was playing with you. You could bear the daily messages and the playful pickup lines, but this was going over the line. Why does he always insist on walking you to your dorm or buy two cupcakes at the cafeteria just to give you one because he knows it’s your favorite? Why invite you to watch childish movies with you on a Friday night when he can just go out with his friends and have fun? Why is he always giving you sudden hugs or holding your hands? Why would he call you ‘babe’? Does he know you like him? Is he trying to prove a point? You aren’t sure what this is, but you are seriously afraid of getting hurt.

“Sleep here with me. We shared a bed before, I don’t mind doing it again,” he continues, bringing your attention back to him.

“I asked you to stop doing this,” you pull your arm from his hold and walk two steps back.

“I’m not doing anything-”

“This behavior. Stop acting like this.” you repeat raising your voice a little bit “Quit playing with me.”

“What are you saying? I’m not playing with you!” he reaches for your hand again, but you deflect.

“Stop flirting with people if you don’t mean it.”

Your voice is stern and you see Jaehyun adjusting his posture.

“Who says I’m flirting with you?” he regrets what he said as soon as he sees your disappointed expression.

Why would you feel disappointed when this is exactly the answer you were expecting? It wasn’t the answer you wanted, though, and deep down you knew it. Your anger leaves your body as sadness takes over, but you manage to smile.

“I’m glad I haven’t misread your actions then. We’re just good friends.”

Jaehyun doesn’t understand why his heart clenched at your words. They were completely true: you were nothing but good friends. He doesn’t have any feelings beyond friendship towards you. Or does he?

“Just don’t go bother your cousin, he must be asleep,”  he clears his throat and hands you a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt “There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom’s cabinet, you can get it.”

You were thankful for being able to talk to Jaehyun like the conversation from the night before didn’t happen. You woke up alone on his bed. He was folding the blankets you left on the floor last night and flashed you a smile when he saw you awake. You realized the awkwardness was gone when he started cracking jokes with you. Jaehyun was treating you the same as before and you decided to forget about the conversation you had the night before.  It was like a silent agreement to not mention the sexual tension that both of you decided to ignore.

Once you went downstairs, you had an eventful breakfast though. Both of you found out your friends made a bet on your sexual life. Mark and Yuta believed you would have sex while Johnny and Haechan believed you were too shy to try something with Jaehyun. You were sure your cousin was in the middle of this, even though no one mentioned his name. Taeyong stayed too quiet during the whole breakfast for your liking. Jaehyun almost killed Donghyuck and Mark but said nothing to Johnny or Yuta because he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against the older ones.

You went back to your dorm to change your clothes and get all of the things for the party Taeyong was hiding from Yuta. The rest of the day went smoothly once all of the boys were warned about the surprise party. The plan was to keep Yuta away until you guys got everything ready by the evening. You went back to their house with Jiwoo, who was glad to help Taeyong and Donghyuck decorating the house while you, Taeil, and Doyoung were preparing the food.

Donghyuck was sulking the entire time for not being warned beforehand about the party, calling your decoration plain and boring. After you found out it was him who started the whole bet thing, you just wanted to kick his face. However, you decided to do it after Yuta’s birthday, just to avoid a commotion.

One of Yuta’s great friends, Sicheng, was, indeed, coming for his birthday and everyone was really excited for his reaction. Even though he could only spend this weekend with his friend.

“He was supposed to arrive with me,” Doyoung explains to you “I was going to drive to the airport and bring him here with me, but his flight got delayed so he will arrive at 1 pm.”

“And he will leave on Sunday?” you ask, handing him the spatula.

“Unfortunately.”

“He said to me he has exams on Tuesday,” Taeil completes “ And his birthday is two days after Yuta’s, he probably wants to spend it with his family.”

“Well, I hope he can at least enjoy his time around.”

The party was supposed to start at 5 pm, so everyone was running against the clock. At 1, Doyoung left you and Taeil in the kitchen to go pick up Sicheng at the airport and by 4, everything was ready, the guests arriving for the party. Taeyong, being the one of the only ones with a suite, kindly let you and Jiwoo use his room to get ready. Your roommate brought both of your clothes with her, and you had to admit you should have expected her to choose something you wouldn’t like.

“I just asked you to grab pants and a shirt!” you complain to her with your clothes in hand.

“And I did!” she uses her mascara to point at you “You act like those clothes aren’t yours. I took them from your drawers!”

“I know they are mine but-”

“No buts,” she gets out of Taeyong’s bathroom to face you. “I’m tired of watching you wearing rags when you have nice clothes. This is a party, woman, you need to show what you came here for.”

“I know, I just- This is…” you look at the skinny pants on your hands, different from the ones you’re used to wearing “so tight. I’ll get all…”

“All the attention, because it will hug you in all the right places. Come on” she whines and you smile at her. She was right.

You were so used to puttin on the same set of jeans and loose t-shirts everyday. You deserved to look good once in a while. Although your bottom was tight, your friends chose a loose long sleeve shirt for you to use, which you silently thanked her for. The weather was starting to get chilly, and you are the type who gets cold easily.

When you were both ready, you went downstairs to see a considerable number of people. Yuta seemed to be really popular in University. It isn’t really shocking though, since it is known how kind and polite the boy is.

When Yuta arrives, everyone screams ‘surprise!’ and starts singing the happy birthday song, he freezes. It takes him a moment to absorb the whole situation, especially when he sees Doyoung and Sicheng holding his cake.

“I wanted to make something special because it’s your last year,” Taeyong says hugging the guy “I know you will graduate soon, so I want you to miss us when you’re gone.”

“Thank you so much, guys!” he says after blowing the candles. “OH, WAIT. Can we light up some other candles? Winwin’s birthday is in two days, let’s sing for him too!”

That is how you spend the evening. It’s different from what you are used to when it comes to parties and this frat house. Not only the time of the day, but everything seems impersonal, cold. Now, watching these boys hanging out together, you start to understand why your cousin loves them so much: they are his family.

If the atmosphere is different, their craziness is the same. You were trying to hold a proper conversation with Mark’s girlfriend, Doyoung and Jungwoo when Donghyuck dragged you to one of his drinking games. He makes sure that you never win so you can take enough shots of vodka to make you feel dizzy.

When you are trying to sober up by eating some of the cupcakes you baked a couple of hours before, it’s Jiwoo’s time to drag you out of the kitchen and place you in a circle in the living room. With both of your hands occupied and your mouth full of icing, you watch Johnny putting on a show just to officially ask your roommate to be his girlfriend. Everyone cheered loudly for them, you including. You are glad that your friends found each other, even though it also means that now they will do everything together, including annoying you.

You are still a little bit too happy when Jaehyun comes to you and hands you a bottle of beer. You haven’t talked to him until then, but it wasn’t like you were avoiding him. Actually, you were preventing yourself from being teased by your friends.

“Wow you look…” he stops for a moment to check you out while sipping his drink.

“What? Too much, right?” you ask, starting to feel self-conscious. "I told Jiwoo…”

“No, your pants look great on you.” he stops you by pointing at you “I was just trying to find the right words. I don’t want to sound like a frat boy, since you keep asking me not to.”

You lower your head and lean on the kitchen counter. So he didn’t forget the previous night conversation.

“I was gonna say that you look hot as fuck,” you can see Jaehyun’s shoes touching yours, warning you that it would be dangerous to look up “and that I was ready to risk our friendship just to make out with you right now.”

You look up and instantly regret your action once you see him up close. Jaehyun traps you between his body and the counter. You feel your heart on your throat and something tingles inside you. You lock eyes with Jaehyun who doesn’t seem to notice your nervousness because he, himself, was dealing with his. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to make a move on you? You are his friend. But friends are not supposed to think about the other in the same way he was thinking about you right now. All he wanted was to kiss you in a way friends should do. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to do things to you that friends definitely shouldn’t do.

“Jaehyun…” the way you whisper his name, so close to his lips, makes him want to kiss you so badly. “I asked you to stop.”

“I’m not doing anything.” he whispers back with his body over yours while looking at your lips.

“I don’t like this game.”

“Good, because I’m not playing.”

You will blame the alcohol later, right now, you are too busy feeling Jaehyun against your lips. He had one hand on the counter behind you while the other circled your waist, bringing you impossibly close to his body. You took no time to place one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, helping you to keep your balance. He gently grazes his tongue on your lower lip, asking for permission, and once you grant it, the kiss becomes way rougher than you expected. Jaehyun tastes like beer and cupcakes, bitter and sweet. You smile at the thought of him eating the cupcakes you put so much effort on. His hand that was on your waist, goes down to your lower back at the same time you put both of your arms around his neck and bring him closer. He takes a few steps back, separating you from the counter, just to bring his other hand to your butt, and smirking right after giving it a light squeeze.

He lowers both of his hands to the back of your thighs, suggesting that he wanted to lift you up. Once you lock your legs on his waist, he walks back to the counter, placing you there and staying between your legs. You were feeling hot like you’ve never felt before. Your fingers find their way on the back of his neck, pulling a few strands of hair making him hum in satisfaction.

When you break the kiss, filling your lungs with air, Jaehyun quickly places his lips to your jaw and then your neck. He bites your ear lobe and leaves a trail of wet kisses up to your collarbones. You bring your body closer to him as you feel his lips find a particular sensitive part of your neck. He keeps one of his hands on your lower back while the other massages your thigh.

When Jaehyun tries to find your lips again, you place your lips on his neck, leaving light marks all over it. You feel him tightening his grip on you as your teeth graze his sensitive skin and you smile. When you unconsciously grind your hips against him, the boy feels the urge to rip your clothes off right and then, until your eyes meet again.

Jaehyun looks at your eyes and suddenly he feels his heart clench. He couldn’t be rough with you, he didn’t want to. His heart was beating insanely faster when your lips met for the second time. He slowed down your rhythm, and now, kissing you gently and lovingly, he could properly feel you. Feeling your soft lips against his and your fingers caressing his neck. He could stay like that forever, but forever is a long time to ask for in this house.

Donghyuck enters the kitchen and doesn’t even try to be subtle:

“WOAH, TAEYONG HYUNG, YOUR COUSIN AND JAEHYUN ARE MAKING BABIES IN THE KITCHEN.”

If you wanted to kick his face before, now you were ready to kill him. You quickly detach yourself from Jaehyun’s hold, get off the counter and before leaving the room, you hear Jaehyun say:

“Lee Donghyuck, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

In the living room, no one really seemed to care about the information that your younger friend had just screamed. Only Jiwoo and Taeyong looked at you suspiciously, but you shrug and sit down by his side.

“I’m leaving in five.”

“Why? We’re going to the club after this,” he asks, placing an arm around your shoulder “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” he raises his eyebrows suggestively before laughing at you.

“I just won't go right now because I don’t want people thinking I’m running away from Jaehyun.”

“You are, though.”

“Yes, I am.”

In the following week, there was no trace of Jaehyun in your life. Your friends were kind enough to not mention what Hyuck had witnessed in their kitchen and you thanked them for that. On Monday, after your Spanish class, the ones who walked you back to your dorm were Johnny and Jiwoo.

You didn’t know how to feel. You missed Jaehyun, a lot. He became part of your routine and not getting any messages from him or not being able to see his smile every day was making you frustrated. At the same time, you were scared of what that kiss in his kitchen meant. Was it the end of your friendship?

It was getting annoying, to say the least. Your mind would often replay the scenes you were trying too hard to forget in the most inconvenient moments. On Tuesday, one of the students had to call your attention because you spent two whole minutes staring at their assignment instead of actually correcting it.

Only on Wednesday, your routine changed a little bit. You had woken up late, almost missing your first class. Then, Mr. Choi finished the class ten minutes later than usual, making you sprint towards the main building to get to the study room as fast as you could since Lucas would be already waiting for you.

Once you entered the main hall and one of the employees scolded you for running inside the building, you started to walk fast, just to bump into the person you were expecting to meet. You as you lose balance, the books and your phone, that were on your hands, fall to the ground. Hendery was fast enough to hold you by your shoulder, helping you to stand up properly.

“Whoa, I guess you’re falling for me, uh?!” he says mischievously and you laugh.

“I almost fell because of you, not for you,” you answer and he grins. “I’m sorry, Mr. Choi took longer than expected, so I had to run and-”

“It’s okay,” he adds playfully “but you had to make up for me. For waiting, you know.”

“Oh, of course!” you nod and start guiding Hendery to the study room “I’ll stay as long as you need to-”

“I meant we can have lunch together, if you don’t mind,” Hendery reaches for your left arm, indicating you to face him.

“Oh,” you exclaim, holding the doorknob “Well if you insist, we can have lunch together.”

Taeyong gets startled when a backpack is thrown beside him, and a tray full of food is placed on the table with unnecessary strength. Johnny and Jiwoo stopped their forks midway, all eyes were focused on Jaehyun’s distressed face.

“What?” he asks, sounding ruder than he intended.

“We should be the one asking you what’s going on,” Johnny says before putting a big slice of watermelon inside his mouth.

“I brought watermelons. Do you want some?” Jiwoo slides one of the bowls in Jaehyun’s direction but he refuses it.

“I’m fine.”

“Who annoyed you?” Taeyong asks, carefully stealing one of Johnny’s watermelons and receiving a glare from the other guy.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles and starts eating the food that was on his tray.

“Isn’t Y/N eating with us?” Jaehyun hears Johnny asking his girlfriend and starts sulking even more.

Jaehyun was sitting with a group of his classmates in the building’s lounge, discussing the next assignment while they waited for their next class. He smiled when he spotted your small figure walking fast around the building, but immediately frowned when he saw you colliding with a male figure. “Jaehyun, what do you think?” one of his classmates called his attention. “Uh?” he asked without taking his eyes off you. “We can start the project on Monday. What do you think?” The guy repeated but Jaehyun didn’t pay attention, too focused on the way the tall guy held your shoulders. “Whoa, I guess you’re falling for me, uh?!” He heard the guy and rolled his eyes at the cheesy pickup line. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he answered and kept staring at you. When you were about to turn left and enter the study room, the tall guy quickly held your arm and said something to you, which surprised you, Jaehyun assumed by the expression on your face. "Well, if you insist, we can have lunch together.” Now, it was Jaehyun’s turn to be left surprised as he catches what you said. What really made his blood boil is the way the tall guy flashed you a flirty smile and the way you mirrored it. Once both of you entered the study room, he instantly stood up, but his knee hit the coffee table in front of him and spilled water in one of his friends. “What the hell, Jae?” Naeun exclaims, looking at the boy and then follows his gaze. “Sorry, Naeun.” he looks at his friend and helps her gather her things “I wasn’t paying attention.” “What were you thinking?” another classmate sighs and Jaehyun takes a quick glance at the closed door. “Don’t you guys think we should discuss this project in the study room?” He suggests holding his backpack and motioning to the door you had just entered, only to be ignored by the others.

“I’m not sure, she usually messages me about lunch,” Jiwoo says, checking her phone.

“I guess she will be busy,” Jaehyun says, not looking at the others at the table “With that guy, Hendery.”

“Oh, did you see them again? Why are you always the one coming across them?” Taeyong chuckles and pat the boy’s back.

“That’s why you are so annoyed then.” Jiwoo nudges her boyfriend “Yesterday, she told me she misses you, Jaehyun.”

“Apparently, Jiwoo and I bother her a lot when we walk her back to the dorms,” Johnny completes.

The boy doesn’t lift his head from the food, pretending not to listen. But he did, and it kills him to know it because he feels the same. Jaehyun didn’t reach out and he assumed that it was his fault. In his defense, he just wants to give you some space, some time to forget about what you did in Yuta’s party. He felt bad because he knows about the way you feel about him and he never, in a million years, wanted to use your feelings like that. Saying that he is just your friend just to kiss you and raise your expectations when he wasn’t even sure about his feelings was definitely a terrible idea. He wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to him again.

“I was kind of a dick,” he mumbles, and Taeyong sighs. “I know she likes me more than just a friend and I didn’t want to give her hopes when I’m not even sure how I feel. I was drunk, that was stupid of me. She must hate me.”

“I’ve heard the drunk excuse once,” Taeyong whispers, and Johnny holds back his laughter.

“Drunk actions are sober thoughts,” Johnny says.

“You have a steamy makeout session with your friends and you say you don’t know how you feel?” Jiwoo asks, using her fork to tap on his tray, calling his attention to her “Yeah, it must be SO hard to figure out how you feel.“ she huffs in annoyance “You are the densest person I know.”

“Y/N is your friend too,” Taeyong adds.

“She is another d, she is dumb,” the girl replies “At least she knows her feelings.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to give her time and space,” Jahyun retorts and before he can resume his lunch, Taeyong grabs the back of his neck.

“Don’t use her feelings as an excuse. We both know you are the one who wants time and space.”

They leave the boy alone, all of them going to their respective classes, but not too long after, he gets a message from Johnny.

[john - 1:46 p.m]: spanish finishes 30 minutes earlier today

To say you were surprised to see Jaehyun waiting for you outside your classroom was an understatement. At first, you didn’t see him. Then, you thought you were hallucinating. It was only when he smiled and pulled you into a hug that you felt it was real. Your cheeks were burning while he held you way too tight.

“Sorry for not walking you home this week,” he says with his head buried in your hair “I was… busy.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to walk me home,” you reply, breaking your hug and you almost miss the slightly frustrated expression on his face. Almost.

“But you know I want to.”

You are glad that he decides to not mention that eventful evening. You know that, at some point, it can come back on you and mess your whole relationship, but, right now, all you cared about was Jaehyun’s happy smile while talking to you about the mess Mark made on the club on Saturday and how much fun they had with Sicheng.

Both of you were walking slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence and talking about anything that came to your mind at the moment. Once you arrive at your building, ten minutes later than normal, Jaehyun stops you from entering the building.

“I want to apologize for -”

“It’s okay.” you don’t let him finish. Listening to him apologizing for kissing you it will hurt more than pretending it never happened.

“But you didn’t let me finish,” he insists, but you shake your head.

“I know what you’ll say. It’s alright. I forgive you.”

“Y/N-”

"Jaehyun, don’t,” your voice is stern and he chuckles, raising his arm in defense.

“Alright. Then let me take you to the arcade on Friday after class,” he says, his ears getting red as he does “Remember you said you wanted to go there? Let’s go together. It’s my official apology.”

“I said I forgive you, you don’t need to-”

“This is my official apology, you need to come so I can be officially forgiven,” he smirks and you laugh. He was always so smooth to get what he wanted. “Then we can go to the party.”

“What party?” you frown in confusion.

“Our party, this Friday. You need to come,” you groan in annoyance and let your head fall back “Come on, I’m sure Jiwoo is coming too.”

“She will just spend the whole night with Johnny,” you plead him with your eyes.

“Then you can spend it with me.”

And when Friday came, you realized you can’t say no to Jaehyun.

You had an amazing time at the arcade. Even though you only arrived there around four, because of your classes, Jaehyun made sure to show you his favorite games and you even managed to win him sometimes - he will never admit that though, he will insist that he went easy on you. When it was around seven both of you decided to go back, since, now, he finally convinced you to go to the party.

Despite your protests, Jaehyun walked you back to your dorm and gave you one hour to get ready, saying that you shouldn’t be late. You get to your room with a silly smile on your face and spot Jiwoo starting to apply her makeup, but she doesn’t notice you coming in. You notice a dark red dress resting on her bed. It had an insufficient amount of cloth to cover her body on a chilly night like this, but maybe she wouldn’t need to worry about cold weather inside a house full of people dancing.

“I see that you are ready to kill Johnny tonight,” you say loudly, startling her.

“You do this on purpose, don’t you?” she looks at you and rolls her eyes when she looks at your innocent face “Do you like it?” she points at her dress and you nod, “I think Johnny will like it too.”

“Gross,” you joke and she shows you her tongue

“How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date.” you start humming the first song that’s in your head “Do you think I will look too ugly wearing this?” you ask by placing one of your blouses in front of you.

“Why? Where are you going?” Jiwoo doesn’t spare you a glance.

“To the party,” you place the blouse back into the drawer and take one of your favorite t-shirts instead, “Jaehyun told me I had one hour to get ready,” you mumble the last part and the other girl stops everything and slowly turns her body to face you.

“You can’t be serious right now!” a grin adorned her face while she looked at you holding an eyelash extension. “You are so in love with each other.”

“No, we are not. We are just friends,” you state matter-of-factly “He just said I should have some fun and ended up convincing me to go to the party.”

“You say as if it’s easy to convince you to go to frat parties,” she turns back to finish her makeup. “If you give me fifteen minutes, I’ll help you get ready.”

“There’s no need for that, don’t worry.”

“Yes, there is. Go take your shower. Go, go.”

You sigh and make your way to the bathroom. If you were fast enough, you could avoid Jiwoo and the makeover you were sure she was planning. Every time you go to an event together, she makes sure to doll you up. Suddenly, flashes from last Saturday cross your mind. You definitely shouldn’t let her choose your outfit again. The last time didn’t go well.

After showering and washing your hair, you see your phone light up and Jaehyun’s face illustrating the screen. You hung up the call to finish drying your hair, but he insisted another five times before starting messaging.

[Jae - 8:14pm]: do u hate me???

[Jae - 8:14pm]: pick up the phone

[Jae - 8:15pm]: y/n

[Jae - 8:15pm]: if u don’t pick up imma be sad

[Jae - 8:15pm]: :/

[Jae - 8:26pm]: are u ignoring me????

[Jae - 8:28pm]: talk to me

[Jae - 8:28pm]: plssss

[Jae - 8:29pm]: i know u r reading my messages

[You - 8:30pm]: omg

[You - 8:30pm]: u are so annoying

[You - 8:31pm]: i was taking a shower

[You - 8:31pm]: do you want me to be dirty????

[You - 8:31pm]: what do u want?

[Jae - 8:32pm]: i forgive you then

[Jae - 8:32pm]: r u ready?

[You - 8:33pm]: almost? i need to hurry up

[You - 8:33pm]: jiwoo must be ready

[You - 8:34pm]: and i’m going with her

[Jae - 8:34pm]: nooo :(

[You - 8:34pm]: ??

[Jae - 8:35pm]: i’m waiting for you outside

[Jae - 8:35pm]: walk with me instead

You stare at your screen for some seconds before thinking of a reply. Why did Jaehyun come all the way to your dorm to pick you up? Is he insane? Is he trying purposefully making you fall for him just to crush your heart later? Is that the reason why he gave you one hour to get ready? He barely waited thirty minutes, though.

[You - 8:36pm]: ok..

[You - 8:36pm]: i’ll be down in 5

You run back to your room and throw everything on your bed, not caring about the mess. Jiwoo is finishing her hair and was almost ready to put on her shoes. You throw the wet towel that was in your hair on the floor and take the first pair of shoes you find.

“If you are rushing just to avoid me, forget it. You’ll only leave this room once you look presentable to a party. Look at you!” she scoffs but you barely listen to her

“No, not now. I need to go,” you pant and grab the first lipstick you found “Jaehyun’s downstairs.”

“HE WHAT?” she shouts and screams incoherent words afterward. You were sure the whole floor had heard her. “YOU CAN’T MEET HIM LOOKING LIKE A WET DOG. YOU HAVEN’T EVEN DRIED YOUR HAIR PROPERLY!”

“Stop screaming!!” you plead and try to find a hairbrush “It will dry naturally.”

“NATURALLY?” Abigail punches the wall behind Jiwoo but she doesn’t seem to notice or care about it “Come on, if you don’t want to change your outfit, at least let me dry your hair.”

“He has been waiting outside for a while now.”

“It won’t kill him to wait another fifteen minutes.” she grabs the hairdryer and goes to your direction, but you deflect “It’s either the hair or the outfit. You will have to change SOMETHING.”

You know how stubborn your friend can be, so you just drop the matter without fighting and let her do her thing. While you use the hairdryer, she chooses something from your drawers, while threatening to lock you out of your shared room if you don’t wear her outfit.

You regret not running away while you could when she hands you the same black skinny jeans from last time. You should have burned it last week. She chooses a crop top that was probably hers and throws your favorite denim jacket at you.

“Just so you won’t complain about being cold.”

You rush to get to the front of the building as fast as possible, just to find Jaehyun leaning his back against the lamppost. You can’t deny your heart skipped a beat at the sight. He is there, waiting for you. His head is hung low, eyes fixed on his phone. Jaehyun had the same outfit from the first time you met him at your first frat party: long-sleeved black shirt and black skinny jeans, looking just as good as the first time.

“Sorry, I’m late. It’s Jiwoo’s fault,” you say once you’re next to him.

His eyes scan your body up and down and you see a faint smirk on his face. “I like your jeans,” he adds suggestively.

“I hope I won’t feel cold, Jiwoo chose this crop top to wear at night!” you say to yourself, not realizing what the boy has just implied. Jaehyun was behind you, still checking you out, which if you had noticed, would have made you blush “You gave me an hour to get ready, though. I barely had time to dry my hair, it will look ugly later.”

“I doubt it,” he answers back and rushes to hold your hand in his. “Sorry, I guess I just wanted to see you soon.” He notices how you tense up and smiles at the way you tighter your grip around his hands.

“Stop it.” you warn him “You didn’t have to pick me up though, I could go with Jiwoo.”

“I came to pick you up because I heard creeps are hovering around the girl’s dorm.”

“Who told you that?” you ask, adjusting your hands together. Holding Jaehyun’s hand was more pleasing than you wanted to admit. It felt familiar.

“Johnny.” you laugh at him who looks at you confused “What?”

“Do you seriously believe in Johnny? There’s 24/7 security around our building,” you smile at him who mirrors your expression, showing you his dimples. “He just uses it as an excuse to always give Jiwoo a ride,”

“Well, I guess he just worries about his girlfriend,” the boy gives your hand a little squeeze, making you look at him “Tell me when you’ll leave the party so I can walk you back, okay?”

“You don’t need to,” you turn your head to the front. If you keep staring at Jaehyun while he is being so caring, you’ll collapse there and then.

“I want to, silly. It’s dangerous to walk around by yourself at night.”

“So I assume you will fight whoever tries to hurt me?” you ask humorously, a smile on your face.

Jaehyun tried to stay with you the whole night, but his friends weren’t helping. It all started as soon as you got to the house and Taeyong asked him to carry heavy boxes inside and stole your attention away from the boy. When he finally found you again, you were in a circle with Donghyuck, Taeyong, Taeil, and some girls he didn’t recognize, drinking some weird mixture they made. Before he could reach you, though, Yuta forced him to pair up in a beer pong game.

What he hated the most, though, was when he spotted you in the crowd for the third time that night. You were already tipsy, more prone to smile, and your smile was simply breathtaking to Jaehyun. But you weren’t smiling for him. It was Hendery Wong who was making you laugh and it was the other boy’s arm you were holding to steady yourself in place. Jaehyun hated, even more, all the times the boy would lean his body to whisper something to you and how he took advantage of that position to hold you by the waist, his hand resting on your lower back, bringing your bodies closer. Too close to Jaehyun’s liking.

“Stop staring, hyung,” Donghyuck says propping himself up against the kitchen’s counter. “Or else I will think you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous and I’m not staring.” Jaehyun sips his beer without taking his eyes off the couple.

“Yeah, why would you feel jealous of a funny and hot guy who is clearly hitting on Y/N?” Donghyuck says sarcastically and steals the drink from Jaehyun.

“He is shamelessly flirting with her for ages,” The boy tears his gaze apart from the couple to look at the younger who was drinking his beer. “Do you believe he used the ‘I think you are falling for me’ pick up line with her? And then inviting her to have lunch with him when she usually eats with me- us?”

“Who are we talking about?” Yuta arrives with two shot glasses in hand, filled with blue liquid.

“Take a wild guess.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes and goes to the dance floor.

“Do you want it?” the older boy offers and Jaehyun gladly takes it, feeling his throat burning with the alcohol. “What’s going on?”

“Hendery Wong.” the younger says looking back to the tall guy touching your body the way he wanted to.

Yuta follows Jaehyun’s eyes and hisses at the sight “I don’t wanna get punched in the face  but” he whistles and looks back at his friend “I don’t blame the kid, she looks hot as fuck tonight.”

“If you don’t wanna get punched, then close this filthy mouth of yours.” Jaehyun’s expression darkens and Yuta only laughs, tapping the guy on the shoulder.

Jaehyun considered approaching you. Fuck him, every time he saw Hendery touching your hair or smiling at you, he wanted to go there and punch that sly smirk out of the boy’s face. What would be his excuse, though? He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so protective around you, but it was eating him up.

“How’s tonight going, Jeffrey?” a cheerful Johnny appeared beside him “You looked so happy playing beer pong with Yuta.”

“Can’t you see I’m having the time of my life,” the younger one says sarcastically and takes the bottle of beer from Johnny’s hand.

“Your face says otherwise,” the tall one chuckles and glances towards you. “Just go there and ask her to dance.”

“She already has a date.” Johnny smiles and waves at someone “I don’t want to bother them.”

“It’s surprising they haven’t caught you staring yet. Jiwoo and I have been watching you and your jealousy attack for more than fifteen minutes.” He shakes hands with two guys who were passing by and complimented his music playlist for the party. “She likes you, you know? I’m sure she would dump anyone if you asked.”

“Why would I ask her that?” Jaehyun sounds offended. He didn’t want you to dump anyone for him. “She’s just a friend. A good friend. That’s why I want the best for her.”

“And I assume that, in your judgment, Hendery is not the best for her,” Johnny sips his drink and nudges his friend “but you are, aren’t you?”

“Hendery is not the best for her and everyone knows it. He is an exchange student, they start dating and what happens when he needs to move back to China?" Jaehyun crosses his arms in front of his chest, visibly irritated. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, please,” the older boy rests his arm on Jaehyun’s shoulder and leans closer to the boy’s ear “Just admit that you like her.”

“I don’t like her like that.”

“Yeah, right, so I guess now you call steamy makeout sessions, friendly conversations.”

“Can you not mention that? I was drunk.” Jaehyun snaps and slaps Johnny’s arm away from him “I only like her as a friend. Stop annoying the shit out of me. You, Donghyuck, Yuta, even Taeyong was bugging me this week. Cut the dating bullshit, for fucks sake!”

“Yeah, you take her on dates, make out with her in our kitchen, and now is jealous of Hendery blatantly flirting with her because you are just friends.” Johnny finishes his drink before placing the empty bottle on the counter “you definitely don’t like her.”

It was probably the alcohol, but Jaehyun was mad. He was so mad that he stormed out of the kitchen before he started a fight with Johnny. Why was everyone pressuring him about jealousy? He was only trying to take care of you. He knew about your little crush on him and that’s why he made sure to tell everyone that you were only friends. And friends care about each other.

He sighs and sits on the sidewalk, away from the party and from the stares. Away from you and Hendery. What was happening to him? He lays his back on the grass and closes his eyes. His mind reminds him of the way you looked so concentrated while watching the boring movie the first time you went out together. You looked so cute, biting your lips and barely blinking. He remembered the way you sang your heart out to all the High School Musical songs and how much he loves making you laugh, just to see your smile. He remembered all the times you tensed up when he held your hands, but after seconds were adjusting yourself. His heart starts beating faster when the image of you sleeping on his bed appears on his mind. The way you were peacefully sleeping beside him and how all he wanted to was hold you and never let go. His skin seems to burn with the memory of the feeling of your fingers tracing his skin, your lips on his and the way you ground against his body last Saturday.

“Fuck,” he mouths.

Lastly, he remembered how unbelievably pretty you look tonight. Damn, Yuta was right, you were hot. You look absolutely stunning and he wants you badly. He sighed thinking about how all of his friends know him so well. How could he keep lying to himself like that? Saying that he isn’t jealous when all he is thinking about is how great it must feel to be in Hendery’s shoes right now.

“What are you doing here?” he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it was.

“I’m tired.”

“Then go to your room. This is literally your house!” you hold his hand and try to force him to stand up “Come on, Jae.”

“I’m fine. Just go back inside. Enjoy the party.” he stays in the same position, eyes completely closed.

You huff in annoyance at his behavior. How dare him, tell you to enjoy the party when you only came because he asked you to.

“If you’re not standing up, then I’m leaving,” you threaten, but the boy doesn’t move. Why was he being like that? “Fine then. Once you decide to tell me what’s wrong, text me. Goodnight, Jae.”

You say, walking away from the boy laying on the grass. Five minutes ago Jiwoo came to you and told you to talk to Jaehyun, he looked stressed. Why was he stressed when he was supposed to have fun? You thought to yourself. But you had to admit you were more relieved than sad for not having the opportunity to spend the night with Jaehyun. After what happened the last time both of you drank a little too much, you decided it was risky to be too close to him and alcohol.

You couldn’t stop thinking about his actions, though. Movie dates, the way he always looked after you, he even remembered how much you wanted to go to an arcade and took you there. Your heart was confused. Could it be more than friendship? You cherished Jaehyun beyond anything you could explain, you didn’t want to ruin things with him.

You might have started your relationship weirdly. Looking back to the day you woke up beside him after a party, it felt like years ago. Because that’s exactly how Jaehyun makes you feel like you’ve known him for years. The more you got to know him, the more he seemed to grow on you. He was sweet, caring, and an absolute dork. He never failed to make you laugh and was always ready to listen to what you had to say, either if it was a joke or if you were just complaining about something. He would let you use his expensive pens just because you were curious about how they were. He listened to your messy playlist even though he absolutely hated 70% of the songs you put there. He is interested in you as a person. He makes you feel special and you can’t express how much you are happy to be by his side.

“Y/N, I told you that I would walk you home!” he shouts from behind you. “Wait for me.”

You hate how he could make your heart beat faster just by calling your name

“I thought you wanted to be alone.” you shrug and slow down your pace.

“Why are you walking so slowly?” he grabs your hand and pulls you forward “Just because I’m walking you it doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of someone attacking us at 1 in the morning.” you laugh at his sentence and he can’t fight back the smile that appears on his face.

“What happened to the guy who said he would protect me?” you question him, poking his ribs.

“I’ll only fight people unless it’s completely necessary. I don’t know if you realized, but I prefer to avoid confrontation.” his thumb starts caressing the back of your hand and you feel butterflies flying on your stomach.

“I like this way,” you softly say “I wouldn’t want to see you hurting.”

“Stop saying things like that, it makes me wanna kiss you,” he mumbles.

It makes me wanna kiss you.

Did you hear it correctly? Was he jokingly flirting with you or did he mean that? You didn’t have the guts to ask. The rest of the walk was silent, the only noise coming from your rhythmic steps on the concrete. Once you see the back of your building, informing you you are close to your destination, you try to take your hands away from Jaehyun’s grasp, but he only holds it tighter.

“No,” he pleaded quietly “not yet.”

You hum in response and keep walking beside him, holding his hand.

“Text me when you get home,” you say to him once you are in front of your building. You wait for him to leave so you can get inside, but he doesn’t move. “Are you not going home? Do you need anything?”

“I do.”

“What is it?”

“Can you hug me?”

Your breath is caught on your throat at his sudden request. What was wrong with Jaehyun tonight? You didn’t know he became clingy when he drank. Either way, you comply with his request and circle your arms around his waist and place your head on his chest. Jaehyun was warmer than remembered. You hear his heartbeat increase and smile softly. Was he as nervous as you were?

“Don’t date Hendery,” he blurts out and you frown, not understanding where this came from.

“Why would I-”

“I was so fucking pissed at the way he looked at you and it killed me that I don’t have the right to complain about it because we are just friends,” he says in one breath and you try to get away from his hold to have a look at his face, but he holds you closer “The way he touched you got me frustrated to the point that I had to go outside or I would have picked up a fight.”

“He was just being-”

“I swear to god, if you say friendly, I’ll kill myself,” he says pushing you away from him and you can see him scowling at you.

“He was being too friendly,” you say smiling mischievously and Jaehyun scoffs.

“Weren’t you uncomfortable with the way he was holding you?” he asked in disbelief.

“To be honest, I think you are exaggerating. I was really tipsy, he was just making sure I wouldn’t fall.” you say and Jaehyun rolls his eyes “What? He was basically just hugging me. We hug all the time.”

“You two hug all the time?” he almost screams and you put your hand on his lips.

“Shhh don’t scream!” you say, moving your hand from his lips to his shoulder. “I meant us. You and me. You hug me all the time too.”

“But I’m your friend and he is your student, who is clearly hitting on you, by the way,” he says placing his hands on your hips, but you don’t seem to realize.

“What, Jaehyun, is this jealousy?” you smile as the words leave your lips as a joke

“Yes, this is fucking jealousy.” he snaps for the second time tonight “I am fucking jealous because that kid has been hitting on you since you first started tutoring him and you don’t realize that.”

“Woah, hold on! Stop saying nonsense.”

“You are so frustrating,” he mumbles and brings you closer by circling his arms around your waist. “Please don’t date Hendery.”

“I won’t date any-”

"Date me instead."

You feel someone sliding their hand into the back pocket of your jeans and smirk.

“Stop that,” you nudge his side “frat boy.”

“Why do you keep pretending you don’t like it when I do this?” Jaehyun rolls his eyes and brings you closer to his side “Lunch at 1?”

“It’s good for me.” you nod and stay on your toes to reach for his cheeks. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“It got canceled,” he says taking his hand out of your pocket and placing it on your waist. “Let me carry those for you.”

“It’s fine, we’re almost there.”

“Let me be a good boyfriend and carry your stuff for you.” he takes the books out of your hands and kisses your temple.

You have been dating for a while now, but every time he reminds you he is your boyfriend, it never fails to make your heart flutter. You smile widely, poking the dimples on his face and Jaehyun pretends to be annoyed, when, in fact, he loved how happy you looked.

Once you arrived at the main building, you thought Jaehyun would leave you by yourself, but he made sure to escort you to the study room. Once you turn down the hall, your boyfriend spots a certain someone waiting for you outside. Jaehyun stops a few meters away and hands you your books back, but before you can thank him, he pulls you by your belt loops and crashes his lips on yours.

You get surprised at his sudden action but kisses him for a little while after pushing him with your books, whining about being in public. Jaehyun finishes by giving pecks on your neck, jaw, and cheek. Before you can ask why he did that, you spot the long haired Chinese boy in front of library's the study room. He is clearly avoiding looking at your direction. You hit your boyfriend’s arm with the books on your hands.

“I can’t believe you were putting on a show with Hendery standing right there. You are so childish.”

“Yet, you love me the same,” he snickers, giving you one last peck on the lips “I just want to make sure he knows you’re taken.”

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: What Hobby Should You Begin Next? 🎨🛶📯

Sup y'all, it's time for a new pick a card reading (this one's especially for you night owls out there as I'm posting this at midnight lol). Ideally, I'd like to post one PAC every week after this but eh, lettuce see about that. 🥬👀

This pick a card was inspired by the remaining energies of late Taurus season. The grass is bright, the air is warm, the flowers are blooming, and it's brought out the artist in me. While I've been finishing a leisure painting, I stopped to draw out some cards to help out anyone who's in the mood to do something fun in their spare time but could use some direction or guidance.

Pick any one of the four Prism Oracle cards below, or its corresponding crystal/emoji, to see what hobby you could explore next, or if there is a hobby you enjoy that is calling for your attention:

Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙 Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊 Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉 Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭

Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙

77 Beginnings, Sound+Resonance+Frequency, The Musician, Capricorn Rising - Aspire; Page of Swords, Page of Wands, 9 of Cups, Knight of Swords, XI Justice

Wow, pile 1, I think you have the most obvious answer of all four piles. You're very drawn to pursuing something musical. It could be in a variety of ways. You might try singing, writing a song, playing an instrument, learning to dance, or perform in musical theater (the purple curtain in the Justice card definitely brings theater to mind). You could enjoy collecting vinyl records, or producing music through special programs and apps. You may desire to publish your music online, or dream of going big on stage and signing major contracts with labels. Two Pages tells me you're most likely into more than one thing, as plenty of musical artists can multitask.

Your pile was the only one to get two Prism cards at first as Anxiety initially wanted to pop out. It's also clear that with two Pages and the Beginnings card, you're very new at this hobby. There's an over awareness of this fact, that on some level you may not know where to even start. There's some doubt I sense that you feel you can't be at the level you wish to stand on. Capricorn energy wants to reach for the very top of the ladder in accomplishment; it is a steady energy although not intent on settling. I get that there are many people here who greatly look up to an artist and wish to have their same talents. Try to look past the smoke and mirrors of all the top 40's singers and know that music is way more accessible than it's made to look.

Try embracing the newness of this pursuit, pile 1. It's okay to be a little lost, or feel that there's a long way to go. The only way to go pro is to start small and grow. There are a lot of free resources online for learning music (try out musictheory.net for free lessons) and free vocal technique lessons on Youtube. Some people are very lucky to have the chance to start learning at a young age, but if we were to set a rule stating that only those who did so could play, that would leave a lot of creative geniuses and successful musicians out of the frame. If you're learning to play the keyboard, practice one song or even one note at a time (doesn't have to be Chopsticks, lol). Consistency is key.

When the inspiration and joy to explore music finally strikes you, take the time to really dive in and make something small. If you're trying to write a song, start with a jingle. If it's music theory you want to go over, start with just 1 lesson and see how it feels. If you're learning to dance, begin with warm ups and slow music before working on the more intense songs. Are you looking for writing inspiration? Keep plenty of notes on hand and learn how to identify music so you can easily write a melody down (there are empty music notebooks for this). If this is something you would like to do in the long term, then continue to practice with that perspective by not overdoing it to compensate for "lost time". You are exactly where you need to be on your creative journey.

Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊

66 The Selves, You Belong Here, The Wise One, Cancer Moon - Intuit; X Wheel of Fortune, Sagittarius ♐, VI The Lovers, 9 of Pentacles, XVI The Tower

What's going on, pile 2? With the Selves card above Sagittarius, I'm getting that a lot of you may be interested in pursuing theater or comedy, whether that's stand up or it's simply channeled through the projects you create. Your next hobby may involve incorporating a lot of humor into what you do. This pile is the most multifaceted of the four, with many differing hobbies, so I'm going to list a variety of different talents, but what binds them all together is the need to express one's own (very) strong opinions for the world to see.

You may want to be a photographer who documents unusual things, or write something that makes a powerful statement. There's a need here to let go of any of the anxieties that come with expressing your authentic self, because while those feelings are natural, listening to them too much will dampen your creative drive. This is the group that wants to make very surreal graffiti art or provocative dance routines. With the Tower card, here, I feel there's a need for the shock and awe to get your inspiration buzzing. On the gentler side, I can see some of you getting into something nature based like flower printing and permaculture but the caveat is that it's a reflection of your genuine self and beliefs in some way. With Wheel of Fortune, some of you may feel an urge to learn about tarot or pendulum reading, as these things are typically categorized as "unusual".

You may also get into traveling to stay involved in your hobby, or it requires roving about in some way. To break down creative blocks, it might help to actually move yourself to a different location. It doesn't necessarily involve moving to a whole new place, it could just refer to another part of your home or you may benefit from walking or dancing to decompress. I feel that moving your body will stimulate your creative ideas to flow through. A small number of you may have considered trying out extreme sports like free climbing or parkour. I don't really need to mention that these can be incredibly dangerous, so some of you may like something similar like skateboarding or gymnastics as well. It doesn't have to be intense, just active.

With the Lovers, there also exists a social aspect to your hobby. You may be drawn to share you hobby with a friend or with partners. It will greatly help you to be in an environment that supports your avant-garde tastes and not settle for less. It's not always easy to put shocking art with profound messages out there for the world to make sense of it, though some make it seem that way. It's easy to pretend that negative feedback doesn't get to you, but only accept constructive criticism as that will feed you more than shocked reactions. You cannot afford to have others in your life discourage you, as your skill sets require a lot of space for growth. Nourish relationships that want to celebrate your talents with you. Find a community that loves what you love, and wants to see you happy with what you do. Embrace the wild side of your artistic abilities.

Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉

54 Security, the Messenger, The Aspirant, Aries Sun - Assert; 2 of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, 0 The Fool, Aquarius ♒, Virgo ♍

Hello, pile 3. With the 2 of Pentacles, many of you may want to explore a hobby that is both online and offline, or the internet and social media are major components. If you like making artwork, you could be into digital art or simply want to upload images of your offline work for others to see. With Virgo, some of you may have a lot to say, by starting a blog or online journal documenting your life or interests, or you could try out freelance editing. If you were a youtuber, you could be really good at creating epically long videos about niche topics, or short videos explaining how to do a certain task (like tiktoks that showcase a person's routines and what cleaning products they recommend).

I see that this is the pile of innovation, as the Creativity card shows a lightbulb. You could have various ideas pop up in your head, only to feel unsure of how to approach them. Your attention span could split into a variety of different mediums for getting the idea out. Aquarius wants to take its genius energy and spread it around the world. For a lot of you, social media will support your ideas by broadcasting them. Your hobby may directly involve interfacing with others; your creative spark is not for hiding away. Web design, for example, is a hobby but it involves creating something that others will directly interact with. Your work is meant for a wide audience, should you choose to put yourself out there.

This may not always be easy for you, since there could be a pull towards more stable and predictable activities. There's a nervousness here, kind of like imposter syndrome. You may get a really cool idea for a mobile game app before you or someone else goes "but that's an unrealistic goal to spend so much time and effort on", followed by, "how could I ever make something like that?" The thing is, you can be the most talented, skilled, and experienced person when it comes to a subject, yet still have these same worries. Imposter syndrome doesn't magically go away with a college degree, a new job, or 10,000 subscribers. It's completely normal, but make sure to not let your doubts tempt you into doing something more boring and unfulfilling. This is the pile most likely to try a totally new hobby that is unrelated to your other skills, it doesn't have to be realistic.

But also understand that it can take time for something to get really good. Your first fiction draft is gonna turn out clunky, or your app could be filled with bugs, but it's part of the process. There's no perfect time; when you get the urge to try, just try it! Reach out to a local community or chat group so you can get a realistic sense of how long it takes for projects and skills develop. Slam poetry may be a great outlet, so if you'd like to do that, attend an open mic and see how others do it. You are allowed to be imperfect with your hobby--if you wish to evolve your craft, remember the passion and curiosity that brought you to it.

Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭

57 Spiritual Guide, What Goes Around Comes Around, The Astronomer, Taurus Rising - Enjoy; 9 of Pentacles, Cancer ♋, Queen of Swords, Knight of Wands, Knight of Swords

How's it going, pile 4? So this is the most active and possibly athletic pile we have here. Staying in the house is not gonna work because something is itching you to get out underneath the stars. Could some of you be majoring or planning in major in STEM? I'm getting a lot of natural science here. With the Astronomer card, you could want to use your telescope to go stargazing or visit planetariums. Are you still feeling the buzz from all the aurora storm and eclipse hype? It would not surprise me if these events awoke an interest for you and now you're looking up when the next meteor shower will show up or when Saturn will be most visible in the sky.

Your next hobby needs or is the outdoors on some level. But Cancer energy is that of a homebody. The most laidback people in this group may enjoy relaxing hobbies like birdwatching or gardening. These hobbies could be spiritually fulfilling for you. I'm seeing someone wearing an apron outside, so could some of you be interested in grilling or being the host to a fun party in the backyard. Do people even have book club meetings in gardens? A lot of enjoying nature is simply finding a good spot and soaking in the scenery with no other goal in mind. Just being near trees and beach sides might be enough.

But I see a lot of you mainly wish to have an adventure and go far out in nature when the weather's just right. You could be thinking about hiking or backpacking out on trails. It all depends on your comfort level as we all have different tolerance levels. I don't know if geocaching and pokemon go are still popular, but they can be unique ways to engage with the outdoors. You could try guided nature tours presented by nature conservationists like the National Audubon, where you can identify and take photos of animals as you wander through the woods and plains. You may like a hobby that is seasonally specific, like swimming in warm waters or skiing down a snowy mountain.

Your hobby may have you think deeply about how humans connect with nature, exploring the ecosystem and how our actions influence our environment. Climate change can be a very serious and, for some, directly impactful topic to mull over. Remind yourself that as long as you're respectful (leave no trace), mother nature enjoys your company as much as you do for her. A small few of you may have the urge to travel to weird locations. Two knights in your reading suggest boldness. If you decide to visit an abandoned or haunted place, Queen of Swords says to please be careful and follow rules if it says no trespassing, and remember that abandoned places can be dangerous from faulty wiring and unstable flooring. Overall, I feel this pile just can't do with an indoor hobby. You have the motivation and courage to explore the vast beautiful world out there. It awaits you.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[edsbug]

Moonlight

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

summary: eddie helps you find comfort on a restless night (wc: 1k)

contains: reader has a bout of insomnia, eddie sings to reader, hurt/comfort (emphasis on the comfort), fluff, eddie being a sweetheart

author’s notes: i have been struggling a bit lately and wrote this to make myself feel better. i hope it may help others too<3

The room was steeped in shadows, the only light coming from the faint sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains. Eddie lay sprawled across his bed, his unruly hair fanned out on the pillow, his breathing deep and even, lost in the realms of sleep. You, however, were wide awake, your mind refusing to quiet down.

Eddie's room was a blend of chaos and comfort, stacks of well-worn magazines, band posters covering the walls, and a full ashtray on the nightstand. You stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster, the ticking of the clock growing louder with each passing minute. You didn't want to wake Eddie, knowing how little sleep he often got.

It had been a week since you got a decent nights sleep. The room feels like a silent witness to your restlessness. The minutes drag on, and each glance at the clock only heightens your anxiety. You try to focus on Eddie's calm presence beside you, hoping his tranquility might somehow seep into you. But instead, you become acutely aware of every small sound — the ticking of a distant clock, the faint hum of the refrigerator, the occasional creak of the trailer settling.

As you lay there, the frustration of not being able to sleep begins to build. Every time you close your eyes, your mind races with a cascade of thoughts, each one more persistent than the last. You replay the events of the day, worry about tomorrow, and ponder the meaning of fleeting moments that now seem monumental in the quiet darkness.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to slip out of bed, hoping some movement might help clear your head. Carefully, you begin to inch your way out from under the covers, moving with precision. But as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, the mattress creaks slightly, and you hear a soft murmur behind you.

You freeze, holding your breath, but it’s too late. Eddie stirs, his eyes fluttering open. “Hey,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. “Where’re you going?”

Caught, you sigh and turn to face him. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just… I can’t sleep.”

Eddie blinks a few times, shaking off the remnants of his dream. He props himself up on one elbow, worry etching lines into his forehead. “Come back to bed,” he says softly, patting the space beside him.

You hesitate, but the concerned look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice are too inviting to resist. You climb back into bed, and Eddie immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The scent of his skin, a mix of soap and his cologne, fills your senses, grounding you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, his lips brushing your forehead.

You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “I’m not sure. A bit of everything. I just can’t seem to turn my mind off.”

Eddie chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Sounds familiar. You know, I have a trick for that."

"What trick?"

He reluctantly untangled himself from you and slid out of bed. You watched as he scurried towards the living room. After a moment, he came back with a vinyl record, glancing at it with a small smile before moving to his record player tucked away in the corner of his room. "This," he said, holding up the record, "is one of my uncle's favorites. Always helps me relax."

He carefully placed the record on the turntable, the needle finding its groove with a soft crackle. The room filled with the warm, mellow sounds of a classic rock ballad, the kind that seemed to wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

Eddie returned to the bed, climbing back under the covers and pulling you close.

"There. Just listen to the music. Let it carry you away."

You nestled against him, feeling the vibrations of the music seep into your bones. The gentle strumming of the guitar and the soothing vocals eased the tension in your body.

Eddie began softly humming along to the music, his voice a soothing lullaby. His hand traced lazy patterns on your back, his calloused fingertips grounding you.

"I don't know what l'd do without you," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Eddie pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. His eyes, full of love, met yours. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere.”

He leaned in, kissing you softly, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just you and Eddie, wrapped in each other's arms, safe from the chaos.

Eddie's humming turned into soft singing, his voice low and melodic, blending seamlessly with the gentle strumming of the guitar. You closed your eyes and let the melody wash over you. Your racing thoughts began to slow, the worries of the day fading into the background.

Eddie's presence, steady and unwavering, was a beacon in the dark. He had a way of making you feel safe, even when your mind was in turmoil. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. "Anytime. I'm here, always."

Minutes passed, the music weaving its magic. You felt the edges of sleep begin to creep in, your mind finally quieting. Eddie continued his gentle ministrations, his fingers brushing through your hair, his breath even and calming.

You sighed, your body relaxing completely for the first time in days. "I think it’s working," you mumbled, feeling sleep pull you under.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Good. Just keep listening. I'll be right here."

And with that promise, you finally let go, surrendering to the gentle embrace of sleep. The music, Eddie's voice, and the shared quiet moment between you created a perfect harmony, one that carried you into a deep, restful slumber.

As you drift off to sleep, Eddie’s voice is the last thing you hear, a promise in the dark. “I’ll always be here for you sweetheart. Sweet dreams.”

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 0.8 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Moodboard | Recommended Listening

Synopsis: Bradley keeps a close eye on the other students, nightly dinners become a regular occurrence. Malcolm feels further away than ever. A phone call in the middle of the night causes a swift change in plans.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity. 18+ minors dni

…

Bradley wakes up with the sun. All of those West Coast mornings and thin, green floral curtains in his grandmother’s house. The sun spilling through them and alerting him to the Chordettes playing downstairs on grainy vinyl. That meant his mother was cleaning. Lemon-scented disinfectant, her sitting on her knees polishing the hardwood with a rag. The effortless warmth of her voice drifting through the walls.

He exhales. Sunlight seeps through his eyelids but there’s no Chordettes album today. No lemon scent. Just a dusty room and one of his students sleeping six feet away. His eyelids flutter, blinking through the early morning light. A slow turn of his neck allows him to check the clock on the nightstand and doesn’t affront the stiffness that these cheap mattresses give him either.

It’s early. About four hours before Luke would naturally rise, anyway. Bradley hits the alarm and pushes himself upright with a soft sigh. He doesn’t have to be quiet when he’s getting out of bed, that kid could sleep through a hurricane.

They have a lot in common. Lots of similarities in the way they were raised. Bradley likes him beyond just being his professor. In different circumstances, they would be friends. But, Bradley has always kept that line in the sand clear. Until now. Until you had kissed him.

Showered and dressed, Bradley’s up before most of Verona. The soles of his shoes are quiet against the cobble. Italian leather from almost a decade ago. A gift from an old friend that have held up well. The only dress shoes he’s got.

It’s bright out. Bright enough that Bradley’s squinting through his Ray-Ban caravans already, but it’s not too hot just yet. There’s a wind that makes the loose white of his button-up billow against his tanned skin, fighting to work free from being neatly tucked into his belt.

Enzo’s out on the steps by the time Bradley gets there, which means he is late. Teaching hasn’t ever been Bradley’s passion, but it makes way for him to study and — in theory — he gets his summers off. It allows him to write.

“Good morning.” Enzo greets him with a smile. Bradley’s not much for the business side of things — he would have better luck at counting the shades of blue in the sky than he would at figuring out schmoozing. Enzo knows this, and Bradley knows that he knows this. “How’s the book coming?”

“I’m not sure,” Bradley answers with a broad shrug. He tucks the gold frames of his sunglasses into the part of his shirt. “I’m not sure I’ll have it finished by the end of summer.”

Olive-skinned and about fifteen years Bradley’s senior, Enzo looks the part of a sleazy salesman even if he’s just a curator when his lips twist up into a smile. “Something’s got you a little distracted, hm?”

The straight ahead stare, the deep, slow breaths and the unwavering tight line that his lips are pressed into; Bradley’s reaction is easily readable — and Enzo’s close enough to get hit if he keeps it up. He knows that. Towing the line is his specialty.

“Just joking. Here, let’s go in.”

Three soft-sounding steps inside and Bradley’s back where he was this morning. Ten years old and laying on his back in the twin bed in the bedroom at the front of his grandmother’s house, smelling artificial lemon.

He turns his head just a little, his eyes lingering on the mop being pushed around the tile floor, as Enzo leads him further inside.

Being published is what professors dream of. Having someone decide that their little ramblings are interesting enough to publish. Bradley’s study focuses on two things that are inherently interesting to begin with — sex, and power.

His research may be tedious every now and again but the content is always rich. His morning spins by and before he knows it, it’s time to meet you again. You’re ready for him when he gets there, tugging open the door before he has knocked.

But, you don’t look excited to see him.

Cheeks flushed, your body language suggests to him that you would have a decent future as an offensive lineman. His gaze flickers up, over your head and into your seemingly innocent hotel room. Powerless as he scans the room, you just hope he can’t figure out what it is that has you so rattled.

You had aimed to finish before he had arrived but time had gotten away from you.

“So what are we doing today?” You try.

“What are you writing?” His eyes are already on it. The open stack of lined papers, torn out of the notebook already, sitting on the vanity by the wall. Your perfume is next to it and you’ve got the stationary set that your mother got you laid out neatly next to it.

“Nothing.”

He looks down. First, at your face. Wide eyes and baited breath. Then, at your hands suddenly resting against his chest like they’ll hold him in place. His lips twitch.

“Nothing?” He repeats to you. Enjoyment seeps through his words, amusement tugs at his lips and he lifts his right foot to take one step forwards. “Mind if I take a look?”

Instantly, your fingers are curling into his shirt and you’re throwing your weight at him to keep him where he is. Bradley huffs out a sound of amusement, passing you in one swift stride as you claw at his button up to slow him down.

“Don’t, Bradley, it’s stupid — I was just messing around. I don’t want you to read it.”

His fingers brush the top page as you plead with him, tugging at his sleeve, trying to change his mind. He lifts it nonetheless and shoots you a grin, making a show of clearing his throat.

“Dear Juliet,” He pronounces, turning his attention back to the page from you.

“Bradley, please don’t.” It’s not fun anymore. You’re quiet and resigned to him doing whatever he pleases. Embarrassment teems through you.

It’s a familiar kind of crushing feeling. It’s never just feeling small, it’s never that simple. It’s being made small. Every inch that you shrink, you’re squished down further until you’re nothing.

You can see it in his face, the exact moment that he reads his initials on the paper. It had seemed too personal to use his name. Back when this had seemed like a good idea at all.

He doesn’t read on. The paper sits still in his hand as he turns his head towards you. You stare back at him, preparing yourself. Tongue poised, ready to spit whatever venom he deserves after what he says next. Eyes wide, and sad.

“I’m sorry.”

He sets the paper back down as he had found it. It’s not his to discard, it wasn’t his to read. Bradley steps forwards and wraps his hands gently around both of your biceps.

“That wasn’t cool,” He tells you quietly. Bradley knows a couple of different languages, and he’s confident that he’s speaking English now, even if you’re staring at him like he isn’t. “I didn’t realize what it was. I was just trying to mess with you. I barely read any of it.”

Silent, you blink a few times. He’s still there with his big, heavy hands anchoring around your biceps. He’s waiting for you to say something back.

Slowly, your brows draw together. Your eyes flicker over every inch of his face, looking for some fault that will give up this little act.

Suddenly, your mind is made up. This is an act. He’s not sorry, men rarely are. You straighten your back and lift your chin, if you were a cat your claws would be out and ready. “You’re such an asshole.”

The clock beside your bed, the hands don’t move, and yet it feels like you can hear something ticking. Maybe your heartbeat. He’s staring back at you, not moving, but he’s going to have to soon — it’s his turn.

“I know, honey,” Bradley’s hands open and he releases your arms, only to open his and wrap you in them. Your face presses into his chest as he rubs a hand along the small of your back. “I didn’t mean to.”

You’ve received plenty of life lessons on what it means to be a woman. Your grandmother, your mother, your aunts and cousins, teachers and friends. Not one of them prepared you for this. In your scope, apologies come in the form of jewelry or luxury vacations.

No one had ever prepared you for a man to look into your eyes and tell you that he is truly sorry.

“I just wanted to put it on paper, get it out of my head,” You mumble into his shirt, inhaling the notes of wood and warm spice in his cologne. Your hand rests against his stomach now, unclenched. Your body is soft against his. You relax out of all of that tension and let him hold you. “Make some sense of it.”

His palm hugs the base of your skull, cradling you against his shoulder. His cheek rests against the top of your head. He gives you a slow nod.

“You should finish it.” Bradley tells you.

“Yeah. Maybe later.” You hum. It’s nice, to be held by him. He strokes a hand softly over your hair.

Within this city, within the walls of the first space that you have had to yourself in three weeks, in this brown hotel room — you have let yourself be his.

Tomorrow, you’ll move on to Venice. The decision is yours, to leave him and all of this insanity right here — forever between these four walls — or to let go.

Bradley’s thumb trails the nape of your neck. He can feel you deep in thought. Just once, he would like to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. “Could be our activity for today. Write it in Latin, think of it as a translation activity. I won’t check it.”

Lifting your head, you stare up at him, lips pursed in distaste. “If you don’t check it then what’s the point?”

“Confidence.” Bradley tells you. You feel his open palms trail your back until they hit your belt. Then, they skim around to rest safely on your waist. “The more you practice—“

“Yeah, yeah…” Both hands push against his chest as you wriggle out of his arms and turn. “Okay, I’m in.”

“Let’s sit outside. It’s a nice day.”

The eighth of June. The day you sat in a public garden opposite a fountain, laying on your front in the grass while Bradley sat in front of you, propped up against a tree. It turns out that when Bradley says he knows a place, it’s usually worth listening.

“What’s this place called?”

“Giusti Garden.” He tells you, working on something of his own in his lap.

“And what is it?” You ask him, trailing the end of your pencil through the dictionary. He looks up at you, his own pencil stilling for a second.

“A palace, originally.” Blinking through the lenses of his sunglasses, Bradley glances down at the page in front of him and back to your lips, pursed in concentration. “Pretty popular. Mozart, Gorthe, Ruskin— they’ve all visited this place.”

“Huh.” You hum.

This time when his gaze flickers up, you have moved. Your lips are parted, you tap the rubber at the end of your pencil against your bottom lip.

Mid-sentence and stuck, you turn your head towards him and he’s already looking at you. He read what was on that paper the first time. He reads hundreds of essays a year, he has mastered the art of clearing a page quickly.

Admittedly, he hadn’t gotten through the whole page, but he’d noticed that you had stopped halfway through a word at the bottom.

He read all about it. How confused you are. The new feelings and the difficult thoughts. Malcolm and how much he loves you. How guilty you are. How furious with yourself you are.

Selfishly, Bradley wonders if you’re writing the same thing now. All of those biting looks and harsh words — Bradley feels like he’s just starting to understand, and he likes the person behind it all.

He’s grown up enough to know that you’ve got enough people messing with your head back home. Whatever that letter helps you realize, Bradley has already decided that he isn’t going to say a word about it.

It’s still bright out by the time that your letter is signed and sealed, tucked into your bag. You straighten up, brushing off your front as Bradley collects his things behind you.

“Here.”

Lifting your head, you almost miss it. He watches your eyes land on the folded piece of paper extended towards you. Your lips quirk softly as you reach out and take it from him.

Breeze catches your hair, you comb it off of your forehead with one hand as you open up the paper with the other. Three different pencil sketches sit on the paper.

The largest is in the centre. It’s of your face and your shoulders, elbows propped up against the grass and your lips pouted slightly as you study the book before you. The lashes, the slight misshape of your polo collar, the tip of your nose. He’s got it down to a science.

The other two are just sketches. One of your face, turned to the side like it is in the drawing of you laying down. The last is of you looking at him, smiling. You don’t even remember what he had said. Neither does he. But he remembers that look.

“What’s this?”

Bradley just slips the pencil into the pocket of his jeans and starts walking, nudging his elbow into yours as he passes by. “You asked me to draw you, didn’t you?”

In truth, he assumes that it’s going to be a parting gift. Call him sentimental, but Bradley always leaves something to remember him by.

When he closes his eyes, he doesn’t remember his father’s face. He has seen it in pictures before, but never in memories. No, he remembers hugging his father’s legs, and sitting on his knee. He remembers the smell of tobacco.

The replacement dog tags. The gold chain. The shoes in the box in his mother’s wardrobe. The suit that Bradley never grew into — one day it was too big and the very next, he had already outgrown it. Those are what he has to piece together parts of his father.

When you’re old and married, maybe you’ll find the drawing and piece together the parts of Bradley that made you smile like that.

You trail behind him, white tennis shoes in the trimmed green grass. A white polo shirt tucked into lemon yellow shorts, your sunglasses sweeping your hair back off of your forehead.

In another life, he’d reach back and you would wrap your palm around his index finger. He would smile at you and you would be all kinds of giddy about this date.

But this isn’t that — it doesn’t work like that this time around. Someone could see you. Bradley knows now how you’re feeling. He knows that your fiancé is on your mind. He chose once, took Natasha’s choice in her own future from her. He won’t do the same to you.

“The dinner thing,” You call out from behind him, watching your shoes travel from grass to stone pavers as you pass by an intricately carved fountain. He turns his head and peers at you over the top of his sunglasses, looking over his shoulder. “Is that really every night?”

Before you’re even done with your question Bradley’s looking ahead once again, and you’re left looking at the plain white of his cotton tee stretched pliantly over the swell of his shoulders. “Until you all start treating each other with a little respect, I guess so.”

“All of us? — Come on, Bradley, don’t act like you don’t know who the problem is.” An incredulous scoff, barely paying attention to your own words as your eyes wander around the flowered garden. “She’s just a slut, and—“

He stops and turns. Your gaze snaps from double early tulips and their puffed yellow petals to Bradley standing before you — the look in his eyes is scolding before his mouth has even moved.

“Do you listen to a single thing that I say? — Seriously?” He asks you, brows drawn together and his lips pressed into a frown. You simply blink at him.

“What?”

“She’s a slut because she has sex with her boyfriend?” He challenges you, shaking his head. The past week, Bradley has been spoon-feeding you content about the sexual culture through the history of Rome. You nod like you understand and yet, you come out with bullshit like that.

He’s the one who challenged you. You simply answer back.

“She’s a slut because he’s not her boyfriend. They’ll both tell you that.” You tell him, defiance coursing through your veins in lieu of anything that might have helped you make a stronger argument.

“What does that make me? — You listen to my stories with a smile on your face. It’s not dirty until it’s someone you don’t like, huh?” Bradley asks. He’s right, you know that much. Bradley has indubitably slept with far more people than Robin possibly could have.

Still, maybe it’s his tone that makes you need to bite back so quickly. Hands on your hips and a scowl on your face, you stand off against him before the fountain. “What does it matter to you if I think she’s a slut?”

“It matters —“ Bradley stops and takes a deep breath. He leans in by three inches and you’re met with that familiar woody smell that just makes you want him even closer. “Use your brain. Whatever your mommy and daddy taught you back home is bullshit — you’re the odd one out.”

With that, he turns and starts away from you. He won’t leave you to walk home alone, but he will walk six paces ahead so that you’re clear with the fact that you have once again stepped on his nerves.

“I’m the odd one out for respecting my body?” You call out to him.

“Respecting it, ignoring it… same difference, right? — It’s your call, honey,” Bradley walks slowly closer until the toe of his sneaker brushes yours. He lowers his voice, calm. “But choosing not to have sex doesn’t make you better than Robin.”

“I’m not your honey.” You bite back.

“Right,” Bradley nods at you. He lifts his arms and drops them back against his sides incredulously. “But here we are.”

It’s an eleven minute walk back to the hotel. You stroll behind him, sullen like a scolded child. The letter feels heavy in your bag. He might not have called you a slut, but you’ve been put in your place nonetheless. The words would never pass your lips — but he’s right. The comparison’s right there in front of you, all around you. You’re living it.

She can’t be a slut for sleeping with one boy if you’re not for whatever you’ve got going on with Bradley.

You would hold it against her, crushing like a weight, if she told your story back to you. If she was the one with a fiancé at home and a professor who spent afternoons in her hotel room.

Still, your face is hot and you’re not ready to speak to him. Halfway across the herati patterned rug that covers most of the reception area, Bradley turns and looks at you as he tucks the arm of his sunglasses into the collar of his t-shirt.

Chin high and shoulders squared, your clear path is to walk right by him. Just as you always have when a man in your life has embarrassed you.

One step ahead, Bradley catches your wrist loosely, stopping you mid-stride. “Dinner’s in five. Remember?”

“I’m not going to dinner with you.” Your answer is simple and biting. Childish. He wouldn’t be surprised if you crossed your arms and stomped your foot.

“It’s not up for discussion. Everyone’s going.” Bradley explains. Right on time, he lifts his gaze and spots Pasquale headed towards the two of you from across the lobby. It’s not like he won’t have seen the two of you argue before.

He reaches you with a smile and stands at Bradley’s side. His bald head has caught the sun, reddened slightly with head. The smile lines beside his eyes always crease when he beams at Bradley. He stands almost an entire foot shorter. Looking up at him and grinning like a kid, even though he’s older than Bradley.

“Hi, guys!” He pats Bradley’s arm jovially and turns that wide, cheesy grin to you. “How is the revision going?”

Your eyes land on the professor and suddenly there’s something dark about them that has simply nothing to do with eye colour, and everything to do with the mood he put you in.

Pasquale lives in ignorant bliss for the two seconds that it takes you to settle your hands into the shallow pockets of your lemon shorts and narrow your eyes at the professor. “Bradley’s a self-righteous asshole.”

“But what else is new!” Pasquale tries. The laugh is forced out of him and nerves shake through it. He shoots Bradley an apologetic look. Bradley’s looking at you anyway.

“She got a C minus yesterday. Still trying to figure out if it was a fluke.” Bradley bites. Your eyes widen.

Sitting on his lap, wrapped in his arms as he told you how hard you had worked — how proud he was. His hand trailing your spine. His mouth soft against yours. Butterflies tearing through your stomach.

“I think I got too much sun today. I’m going to lie down. Enjoy dinner.” Fuck mandatory. Fuck every single student on this trip. Fuck this class, and fuck him in particular. Pasquale swallows softly as you turn on your heel and head for the stairs.

Bradley turns his chin towards the ceiling. He wants to like you, he wants you to like him. In the moments that you do, everything feels so easy. Like the breeze in early June. But when you’re hell bent on arguing with him — those are like those scorching hot summers back in California. Surrounding and heavy. Pressing in on him until he bites.

“A C… that’s not so bad. Right?” Pasquale asks quietly. Bradley turns his head and looks at him, there isn’t really an answer to give. A B is the average in his class, so no — a C really isn’t bad.

The thing about old Italian hotels is that they tend to be marketed towards guests looking to lead quiet lives — romantic getaways and such. Not young women fuelled by anger. The door slams and teaches you a quick lesson in cause and effect. The painting hung on the wall to the right of the bed wobbles in complaint, then bumps to the floor. The glass frame promptly shatters across the floor.

There’s an almost calm silence that follows. A few slow blinks, and the glass is still there. The frame is still shattered. There are pieces all across the floor. Bradley still said what he said.

The soles of your tennis shoes are thin and pliant, excellent for movement but not designed to fend off glass shards. Crossing the floor at that exact moment seems like far too much of a challenge. So, you press your back to the door and slide down it. Cupping your hands tight over your mouth, you clamp your eyes tightly shut and let it go.

The scream is muffled by your palms, but probably still enough to alarm other guests.

Your bag clatters haphazardly to the floor and you lift your face from your hands just long enough to examine the mess once again. Huffing out a sadder sound than you had intended, you push weakly to your feet once again.

Until today, Verona had been your favourite stop so far. Even with that spoiled, at least you have an en-suite here. You’re more careful with that door. You tug it closed and lock it behind you, toeing off each of your shoes as you go.

These old hotels have old water heaters too. You lean across to turn the shower on first and wriggle out of your shorts, dropping your polo onto the ground with them. Facing straight ahead, you stare into the little round mirror above the sink. It’s got molding all around it that was supposed to look gold once, but the peeling paint reveals brass underneath.

Your reflection stares back at you, sullen. It’s a portrait, just your head, shoulders and chest. Swallowing doesn’t make the thickness in your throat fade. You just blink at your reflection in the mirror. The cotton t-shirt bra hugged to your chest is modest and does it’s job — nothing more.

You’ve seen lingerie — you own lingerie. You have a white teddy with matching panties reserved especially for your wedding night. Bradley has most definitely seen lingerie.

A swift inhale is followed by a baited exhale.

The memory is so distinct, standing in a mall with your mother at the ripe age of twelve, watching her soured expression as she searched through the rack.

“Lace, lace, lace.” She had tutted. Back then, you had been more concerned about someone you knew seeing you here, shopping for your first bra. You hadn’t understood.

“Mom, just grab one. I want to go home. I don’t care what I wear.” You had whined, fidgeting on your feet and brushing awkwardly at the pleats of your dress. You’ll always remember the way that she had rounded on you, eyes wide like you had asked her to buy you a thong.

“Well you should, young lady!” Her voice always sounded scarier when you were younger, even though it had always been hushed and poised.

You have been a grown up for a while now. Lived outside of her home. Had your own bank account, car, clothes — and that voice still circles in your head.

The nightdress she had gotten you last Christmas is hanging on the back of the door. Malcolm hates it. He says it reminds him of his grandmother.

You look down at the thread scissors from your sewing kit resting on the shelf beside the sink. Anger has often led you to some of your best DIYs.

“So, we all have to be here… except not actually all of us.” Robin points out, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her striped t-shirt. Elbow resting on the table, Bradley turns his head to look at her.

“She’s sick, Robin, leave her alone.” Abigail mutters from beside her, pushing her fork around the plate of roasted vegetables.

“No, but I heard Bradley say mandatory. So, mandatory for everyone except—“

“Robin.” Bradley sighs, sitting back in his seat and frowning at her. The restaurant is dimly lit, almost ten of them are cramped around a table in the corner, and after your argument today, Bradley just doesn’t want to hear it. “I don’t want to hear another damn word.”

This is what Bradley hates most about education. Half of the time a punishment for his students is more of a punishment for himself, which this dinner just so happens to be. He wants them to like you. He doesn’t want to hear the bitter comments and the arguing.

Everyone’s eager to get it wrapped up and over with. It’s still early by the time that he heads back to the hotel — everyone else decides to go out for drinks again, without you. Making the entire thing pointless.

The knock at your door startles you. You wince as the pin slips into the tip of your finger, inhaling sharply. Abandoning the project on the bed, you push yourself to your feet and walk over to the door. You already know who it is.

Bradley’s gaze flickers down at the sweat shorts and T-shirt you’re wearing first, then back up to your face.

“How was dinner?” You’re already turning away from him again, stepping onto the bed and tiptoeing back across the sheets. Bradley glances behind him, then steps inside and closes the door.

“Are you done sulking?” He rests his hands on the leather belt wrapped around his hips. Sewing needle in hand, you lift your head and stare, silent. “I’m allowed to disagree—“

“Fuck you,” This time, you don’t give him a chance to finish. You turn your head and continue to thread the new hem. “What you said was cruel and you know it, this isn’t about a disagreement.”

His gaze turns towards the ceiling, hands still sitting atop his belt.

“It was. I’m sorry.” He mutters with an exhale and a shake of his head. Bradley looks back at you finally. His brows draw together and he takes a step into the room. “What are you doing?”

“Hemming.” Your answer is short.

Briefly, Bradley presses his tongue into his cheek and considers just saying goodnight. Then, he notices exactly what it is that you’re working on.

“Did you cut that in half?” He’s already crossing the room and craning his neck to get a better look. Unluckily for him, you’re finished. He watches you look up at him through your lashes and lift the nightdress, then stand up from the bed. “Oh, you’re ignoring me now?”

The door to the bathroom swings shut behind you, the thin wood does nothing to muffle your voice. “I’m not ignoring you.”

Bradley’s attention has already waned. He’s looking at the paper on your nightstand. His drawing from earlier is uncurled and illuminated in the light of the lamp, below that is your address book — opened to a page with Malcolm’s name. Dotted around are little pink hearts, his number neatly written along the line.

“Are you snooping?”

Bradley flinches, turning back towards you with a swift inhale. He remains silent, lips parted as you march from the bathroom to the wood-framed mirror about three feet from where he’s standing.

Aware of his eyes on you, you study the new garment. It sits a few inches above your knee, just above mid-thigh. The sweetheart neckline keeps it sweet. Bradley’s eyes flicker briefly downwards in the reflection. With the window open, he can’t help but notice your nipples peaked against the light cotton blend.

“What’s this?” He asks quietly.

“I wanted a change.” You answer him.

He lifts his gaze to your face, just in time for you to turn and face him. Half an hour ago, you were talking to your fiancé — and yet, you’ve got no shame in searching for Bradley’s approval like this. Maybe you aren’t as pure as you had once thought, or as your mother would like you to be. But for now, standing in front of him, you aren’t ashamed.

Malcolm had called you today from his office. He was eating a sub that one of the interns had grabbed from him and he was telling you about his week. Numbers and figures.

You had thought of everything you could tell him. Juliet and the views of the city, sitting under the tree in that garden this afternoon. Bradley.

“I’m sorry that I said what I said.” Bradley tells you. Maybe it’s just because he’s desperate to get the conversation off of the light fabric you’re wearing, but something tells you that he means it. “It was childish, and you’re right, I was being cruel.

Barefoot, you take four short steps forwards until you’re standing right in front of him.

“I’m not saying you’re right — but I shouldn’t have called Robin a slut.” The admission comes with a small, lip-twitching smile. Bradley’s hands reach forwards and curl around your hips.

“She is annoying. I’ll give you that much.” Bradley concedes. Your mouth twists into an eager grin as you press closer and shift up onto your tiptoes. Bradley steadies your hips and follows you in until your mouth is on his. Slowly, sweetly. His hands skim along the yellow fabric experimentally. He hums as he pulls away from you. “So, what’s with this?”

“You’re right. I was ignoring my body — I like the way I look in this. I like my shape. I can still respect myself without covering up so much. Right?”

Fuck. Bradley stares at you for just a split-second too long. He wrestles with the realisation of what he has just done to himself. Sure, you listened to him for once and it was a decent lesson to learn — but his summer just got considerably harder.

“Do you like it?”

He trails his fingers lightly along the fabric, careful not to touch too hard and press it against your skin. Quietly, he hums. “Sure. It’s cute.”

Bradley’s mind is swimming as he is walking back to his room. Fine, he resolved the issue that he went up there to resolve. Now, he has presented himself with a much bigger one.

His hands press into the pockets of his jeans as he starts to contextualize how deep he actually is into this mess. He hasn’t ever thought about fucking a student before — not once. He detests the men he knows that fantasize of it. And yet, here he is, picturing his fingers bunching up that stupid nightdress.

“Hey, Bradley.” Luke grins, sprawled out across his bed in the dark, reading a magazine with a flashlight. Bradley flinches. The door shuts behind him and they’re in there together. “Natasha called from Turin! She told you that she’s going to be in Venice this weekend too, she asked you to call her back.”

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

[noisyquokka]

Lifetimes Before

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes all your soul needs is a quiet night with your Lover, something that always feels familiar to you that you can't quite put a finger on.

WORDCOUNT - 2k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, dancing with this man under the stars? sign me up!!

A/N - I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while now, so I thought I'd finally get it out. Giggled, kicked my feet, twirled my hair whilst writing this and now I wish I could dance with my girlfriend... Anyway Happy Chan day, everybody!!🥰🎉

The wood creaks beneath your weight as you descend the staircase, halting at the second-last step and leaning over the railing. You scan the open space in search of your Lover, ears perking at the melody floating about the first floor. Something far older than the two of you, with elements of blues, swing, big band. A man with the vocals of silk and lace, a warm embrace. Nat King Cole. It's a record you're familiar with, one you can imagine your grandparents listening to in their late 20s. It's something that fits a quiet Sunday evening, the spices from a homecooked meal wafting through the house as the family sits down to eat. Something that fits this quiet Sunday evening.

The chosen vinyl spins on the turntable, soundwaves moving you like nothing else can. You skip down the last few steps, turning towards the back patio with a furrowed brow. There's a faint glow shining through the door's glass, fighting its way through the sheer curtains hanging from them; a pathetic excuse for privacy. But you find the golden glow of a sunset too good to pass up most days, the rays bleeding through the hallway, running up the walls like untamed flames in a campfire.

Ah, that glow… one of crackling wood and all-encompassing heat.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips, your slippers padding across the runner in the hall as you pull the door open. Chan's back is to you, tending to the fire in the freestanding pit. Daylight is fading, the tree tops along your property rimmed in the amber glow of late Summer. The northern breeze assaults the fabric on your person, greeting the bare skin beneath with a sweet kiss of chills. You step out anyway, patio bricks smooth underfoot, and clear your throat. The man's shoulders tense only for a moment, straightening up as he turns to you. That familiar look of affection adorns his face.

"So what's this, then?" You gesture to the fire, the buzzing stereo inside. It's romantic beyond measure, and even as you know the events that are about to unfold, you play coy. "You call me down here for what, exactly?"

"Leave the door open," He says, waving you over with a wag of his fingers. You oblige, unable to hold back your smile as you close in on the sight before you. The mess of curls atop his head move with him, his focus on nothing else but you as you cross the space from the entrance to the patio. The closer you get, the wider Chan's smile gets until you're greeted by those dimples, the fire light washing over the elusive divots as he turns back to the horizon awash in a blaze of vibrant hues. Orange, violet, yellowish-pink.

You stop behind him, feeling the warmth of the fire spill over the broadness of his shoulders. He chuckles when your arms slink around his waist, tightening as you rest your cheek at the space between his shoulder blades. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The patio door sways open further with the breeze, the sound of the stereo mingling with the crackles and pops of dry wood. It's almost like the sands in the hourglass stop out here, every single time. If only…

Chan's fingers slip under one of your hands, linking your fingers together to pull you around to his side. The song that's playing ends, and you recognize the next instantly. Those fingers squeeze around yours in a nonverbal question, and Chan follows up with a verbal one.

"May I?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"I'm just being a gentleman." He insists, pulling you closer with a gentle hand. His other hand settles at your waist, taking the lead in this three-step on this chilly evening. And you follow with no complaints, bringing your opposite hand up to rest on his shoulder. Nat King Cole begins his silken performance from inside.

Three little words,

Oh what I'd give for that wonderful phrase,

To hear those three little words,

That's all I'd live for the rest of my days,

His grip on you is firm but comfortable, there to keep you close even as he knows you're not going anywhere. The two of you ease into that familiar swing and sway, so used to being soul partners in this backyard oasis where the only wandering eyes are the wildlife that slinks through the shadows and the stars that have yet to make their appearance tonight. Moving together as one, sharing the same space as Chan pulls you in so your back is to his chest.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

His voice rumbles in his chest, swaying you back and forth as he softly serenades you in his arms. You're smiling, lashes fluttering at such a serene and calming voice, the lyrics carrying you on wings of sound as you step in time with the music. And oh, does that voice hold nothing but the strongest affection for the one he's singing to. It erupts butterflies within your chest.

Chan unfurls you from his embrace, your fingers interlocking again as you step backward, shifting your weight to your left foot and coming back to center. It's hard not to smile, something so natural to the both of you - a waltz between two Lovers in firelight as your bodies flow like a river - when you've been here a number of times. The instrumentals fill the air between you both, floating out of the warmly lit home and into the night. 

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you.

Chan's voice fills your ears again as he spins you around the patio, the chill creeping under your shirt. Even so, you feel nothing but warmth radiating from the man that's swinging you around like this is the most fun he's had in all his lifetimes. He pushes you away, shifting his left foot back before strong arms are pulling you back into him. Your laughter echoes through the trees, and you let your head fall back in bliss. You bite your lip as he presses a kiss to your chin.

"Am I doin' this right?" His breath is soft on your neck, arms slipping to the small of your back while yours find their resting place at his shoulders. You're much too close to properly dance, so Chan guides you into a slow and simple sway, shifting your weight from your left foot to your right.

"You're the dancer, Christopher," You reply, tilting your head to lock eyes with the man, "shouldn't you know?" A soft smile takes over your lips as you let your eyes linger on his in the warmth of the fire.

"I was referring to my execution," He gestures to the romantic setting he'd created with a smirk. "but from the look on your face, I'm guessing I've done alright."

You chuckle, blinking as your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck. Your gaze flits around the backyard, seemingly judging the choices he'd made. The wind kicks up now, rustling the changing leaves that sway along their branches with you two below. The flames crackle with the intrusive whispers of air, embers glowing as they travel on the wind's current like fireflies. Your focus come back to those warm amber eyes, licking your lips.

"I'd say so." You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Chan grins at that, lifting you with ease and twirling you around, the two of you moving in a smooth circle. You squeal at his movements, eyes wide for the slightest second as the pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders. But then you hear him giggle and you're being brought back down just enough that his lips can find yours. You hum contentedly into the kiss, lashes fluttering against your ever heating cheeks.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

He sets you back to your feet and without missing a beat, you're back in step with little effort. Your body moves in time with Chan's and his with yours, each step blending into the next. The intuitive tells and the way you understand each other's bodies is an artform, with a level of cohesion that defies all logic. Like two halves of a whole, your souls intertwined in a way that's otherworldly. Attuned to the natural rhythm of one another, every step, every touch. It's something learned over lifetimes. It's an enchanting feeling; an experience you could live in for eternity if only you get to experience it with his soul in every single life beyond this one.

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you,

He spins you away again, lyrics dancing on the tip of his tongue. The man's voice is like a soft, melodic lullaby, it's smooth and soothing tones washing over you. The breeze and the fire craft a tranquil and romantic atmosphere as you sway your hips with the music. The flames cast a glow across Chan's face, dancing over bare skin as he draws you back into him, foreheads bumping softly. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing fervently at the warm skin. Time moves slowly in this moment, lasting an eternity as you breathe each other in. You could've sworn this song is only about two minutes long.

"Simply mean I love you."

He sings the last line softly, a wide grin taking over his face. You mirror that grin, unable to hold back as your heart beats heavy in your chest. Two pairs of eyes stare for a long moment, taking in every feature, every imperfection, everything. Nothing but a heart palpitating love in those gazes, melting into one another. There's love.

"I love you."

It's said at the same time, soft chuckles vibrating through warm chests. His breath lightly fans over your cheeks, the hand at your back coming to rest at your hip. He tilts your head up just enough, the softness of his lips meeting yours in another gentle kiss. You're still slightly swaying as the next song plays in the background, your senses tuned into him as you feel the chill on your skin, the scent of burning wood, the taste of Chan's lips on yours.

You dance until the fire begins to die, your bodies intertwined and foreheads resting against each other. Until the vinyl is finished playing, giving way to the chorus of night insects that still sing this close to the start of Autumn. The embers burn away, cooling into white ash as starlight takes over, the moon's soft luminescence illuminating the two of you. And even after all is quiet, you stay in Chan's arms, the warmth of his skin and his voice a gentle comfort.

You know you have work in the morning, but enveloped in your Lover's arms, you don't see yourself finding the willpower to rush back inside to go to bed. Not when everything feels as it should. Heartbeats in sync, two souls sharing such a profound connection that poets of old could only weave into the fabric of humanity's web with their weathered scribes.

You see their gazes now, in the twinkling of the stars above, beautiful and serene. A creation all their own. The scene brings a smile to their shimmering faces, that you know every inch of the man beside you. Every inch of his body, every movement, every sound. There is nothing that Chan does that you don't already know. Your love runs deeper than flesh and bone, deeper than the vastness of galaxies. It's a love that runs to the very essence of your two souls. A love that has lasted lifetimes before this one and will last for lifetimes after.

The hours pass, but you don't rush back inside to sleep. There is no hurry, no need. 

You are where you're supposed to be, in the arms of the man you love.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[inanisomnia]

ೃ⁀➷the apricity of your touch / chishiya x gn!reader

summary: who knew that a single touch brings back strings of emotions and memories?

warning/s: mentions of blood, implications of sex, slighty ooc, s2 spoilers, profanities, and slightly ungrammatical

word count: 1663

okay but damn this got me researching about things that are medically related - basically me trying to sound proficient and knowledgeable in the medical field... and ngl i enjoyed writing this i hope you do find this read enjoyable as well TOT

oh and btw my writing style here is inspired by @archieimagines ' antidote (a chishiya ff as well) bc damn we were having a quiz in physics and it randomly pops up in my head making me all giggly. idk if i did chishiya justice here tho, i tried istg tot

++ reqs are closed; will finish my remaining works first before i open it again ^^

if you enjoyed reading this, lemme know by liking and reblogging it would mean a lot - only do it if its okay with you. <33 enjoy !!

"i'm sorry. we did the best that we can do." a glum voice spoke out that was soon drowned out by a series of wails, and pained cries of desperation coming from the woman with a frail body, her body shaking from the pain of it all. this is a sound that has been a little too familiar to the ash-blonde-haired man that stood a few blocks away from the scene for he was a former messenger of unpleasant updates. he took a deep breath and tore his gaze away from the weeping woman, and walked away.

his footsteps reverberated throughout the bland and empty hallways; the shiny, vinyl composite flooring – all covered in a pale color. sullen walls painted in white, glass walls separating each room, and compartments, decorated with nothing but a single table, and pair of chairs planted in front, and ivory curtains that hid the examination bed from behind the doctor's table. there was a bit of greenery found inside each room – a small pot of succulents and snake plants, a forlorn attempt at making the area look somewhat lively and comforting. louver lights flickering and blinking - illuminating the dust littered particularly in the air. empty hallways filled with the ghosts of past mistakes and hope delicately revived.

everything about the premise is melancholic and a reminder of how futile and vulnerable humans can be once a part of them starts to fluctuate and fail.

"shuntaro, you have a patient at the consulting room, i think they're here for a brief check-up." a silvery voice chimed in from behind the reception lobby, her hair tied in a sleek ponytail, with a clean make-up look.

the man named chishiya nodded in response and immediately head towards the elevator. Its been 3 months and a half since the meteor struck their city - thousands of people died brutally, and multitudinous casualties.

for quite some time, after chishiya woke up in the same dreary bed located in the lackluster rooms in the hospital, he had a few realizations - actually, lots of realizations to be honest, as if something inside him cleared. if you died for a minute, for sure after you woke up you would look at life in a different light - that’s what chishiya thought.

aside from this, he also has this gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach, that hefty void in his heart he can’t explain at all, as if he was missing something or he was meant to do something but he forgot about it - and god, this was frustrating as hell for the platinum-haired man.

the elevator dinged signifying that he reached the floor he needed to go to, abruptly disrupting the enigmatic trance chishiya was in. his slender, veined careful hands turned the cold knob of the consulting room, and there, he saw a dainty figure, hunched over - hands placed on their knees, delicate fingertips drumming in anticipation.

you seemed to be lost in your own reverie because you didn’t lift your head up when chishiya entered the room - you were biting the insides of your cheek, and your hair stubbornly falling on your face despite being tucked behind your ear.

“good afternoon,” chishiya greeted you, his voice husky yet silvery at the same time, caught your attention as you instantly whipped your head towards the man who spoke in front of you. his hands were both inside his pockets, a single black pen clipped in his lab coat’s chest pocket.

you stood and greeted him back - the man briefly smiled and quietly walked towards the consulting table. his hair was gracefully tied up in a ponytail. the air conditioner in the room blew a gentle, wintry breeze, and the moment chishiya entered the room, it seemed like his woody, and musk scent delicately mixed into the whole ambiance.

the man wearing the medical coat then initiated the check-up - he asked a series of questions and listened to your concerns and as your words stretch into hazy sentences, something about you feels oddly familiar to him who intently stared at you as you talk, nods every now and then and he tried to analyze, not what you're trying to say, but your features. god, you look so familiar, but he can't even remember when and where he saw or met you. was it at that coffee shop downtown? or on the thrifting book event that was hosted 4 months ago that he accidentally stumbled upon? he sighed and looked down.

“i’m really sorry for the inconvenience, i -” you apologized, apparently, you were here for a monthly check-up but dr. kobayashi wasn’t around, but it didn’t bother chishiya at all - he was intrigued by you.

“It’s fine, no worries.” chishiya replied, shaking his head as he smiled and waved off your statement. he mentioned you to go to the examination bed located near the window, a few blocks away on the left side of the table.

there was tranquility laced in the atmosphere, a comfortable silence, between the two of you - chishiya followed you close behind, after grabbing his stethoscope from the drawer.

ೃ⁀➷ i don't wanna live forever ; zayn malik and taylor swift

the distance between the two of you was closed the moment chishiya carefully placed his stethoscope two intercostals beneath your left collarbone - “take a few deep breaths,” he requested, voice low and hoarse, but incredibly honeyed. the cold metal of the stethoscope’s bell seeped through the fabric of your clothing, making you heave your breath deeper.

chishiya’s eyes lose focus every now and then, torn whether to look in your eyes or anywhere else as he listens to your hushed heartbeats. your body was tense and stiff - so was your gaze. “nicely done, just a few more and we're done.” he mused, because somehow, he can’t breathe as well - there was this electrifying aura that engulfed the two of you; he switched his instrument and placed it the same exact distance beneath your clavicle, this time on the right side.

“Where the fuck were you? I was so worried.”

maybe two or three harsh flashes of vivid images popped up in his head, an array of disorganized thoughts and memories he doesn’t know where and when happened - he gulped. what the hell is happening?

down. he placed his stethoscope on the 4th intercostal space of your ribs, between your chest- “breathe,” he repeated, this time, with emphasis.

perched at the second floor’s railings, you were staring down at the people partying their lives away, their hands either full with glasses of cocktails and whiskey paired with intoxicating lit cigarette sticks, dim embers falling gracefully on the ground, contrasting the scintillating array of led lights that surround the premise, there you were, directly proportional to him, eyes full of genuine adoration and fleeting lust.

ೃ⁀➷everything has changed ; taylor swift and ed sheeran

down, again. beneath your chest, located in the middle of your 5th intercostal space - “come find me after we get out of here, okay? i’ll wait for you.” your ragged, and sweet voice croaked out before you fell to the ground. chishiya watched as you bathe in your own pool of blood, body covered in stab wounds, bruises, and fractured bones that you acquired after your fight with the king of spades.

ah. yes. you - the one who pulled him back to the halo of hopes amidst the hell that most of you players call, borderland. his saving grace, the only thin thread of humanity and sanity that keeps him in check every now and then. you, who he shared most of his nights with, souls and bodies entangled under the sheets, finding solace and pleasure in each other. you who would join him in his insanity on starless night skies boring each other's insecurities and deepest regrets to each other.

you, who he considered as his serendipity of kindness that he found in the discord of hostility - the person he never knew he would fall for, and give his all to see back again, after the hellish nightmare both of you shared.

“all done.” the taller one smiled, as he helped you get off the examination bed - he held your hands to assist you and your skin felt warm against his freezing ones, soft against his calloused touch, your gaze calm contrasting his frenzied eyes, masked by a half smile, and curt bows.

seconds stretched into entangled minutes - and chishiya was contemplating whether to ask you about what he suddenly remembered upon relishing in your serene presence.

“thank you. have a nice day ahead.” you bowed as you bid your goodbye to him.

fuck.

he thought, the uneasiness crawling under his skin violently the moment you were gone from his sight - should he take this chance? or was he just hallucinating? would it be weird if approaches you and ask you that question? he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anxious around him.

but damn, those memories that popped up in his head are as real as he could feel in his heart, mind, and body. he sighed and ran outside. he won't overthink this one anymore.

hasty and desperate footsteps echoed on each hallway and floor that he strided in a hurry - upon reaching the lobby, he whipped his head to search for your figure only to find you almost outside. he heaved a deep breath and called your name that halted your pace towards the main door.

“i’m really sorry to ask you this question and it might be unprofessional of me, but i’m sure we’ve met before.” he breathed, his bangs covering half of his confused face.

you chuckled. “i thought you forgot.”

relieved, he smiled back. “almost.”

“would you like to have lunch with me, dr. shuntaro?” you quipped, and offered your feeble warm hands.

“it would be an honor.” and placed his hand on yours - the apricity of your touch reminded him of what comfort and cloud 9 felt like.

<33

[dogstarbytes]

aspirin

pairing: leon kennedy x gn reader

pronouns: they/them

desc: waking up in leon kennedy's bed after a one-night stand .

trigger warnings: throwing up , pill-taking, body buzzing

w.c: 726

the first thing you felt as you came to was a pounding headache. the sun didn't help much as it peaked at you through the curtains, shining a thin light over your eyes. you groaned, throwing your arm over your face, as if that would shield the burning rays.

you should've been used to the throbbing pain after a long night of drinking. hell, you were an alcoholic. so, something as simple as a headache shouldn't make you feel the need to hunch over and barf, right?

wrong.

you felt the bile crawl up your throat before it even started. rolling out of bed, you're thankful for the trash bin in front of you as you let out the alcohol from the night before. with your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears, you didn't hear the footsteps, or the rattle of a pill bottle, or the clink of glass meeting wood. your body buzzing, you didn't feel the calloused fingertips pulling your hair away from your face.

soon, your stomach was emptied. the buzzing stopped, and your headache grew.

"here, take these."

you barely registered the scratchy voice as you felt knuckles brush the nape of your neck and reach for the pill bottle, holding it in front of you for you to take. you reached up, balance unsteady, and you fell back against the wooden bed frame.

"are you alright?"

you tried opening the bottle, but you felt physically exhausted. the man took the bottle from you and opened it, shook two little white pills out into his palm and, with slow movements, tilted your head back. you parted your lips, allowing him to slip the medicine onto the tip of your tongue. he reached for the glass and carefully poured.

swallowing the pills, you sighed, eyebrows knitting together. after a moment, you found it in you to open your eyes. taking in your surroundings, you realized you weren't in your bedroom.

the room you found yourself in was bland. no pictures, posters, vinyl. just a dresser, a desk, and a bed.

looking at the man in front of you, you found yourself thinking he was anything but bland, despite his clothing. or, a lack thereof. the only thing covering him was a pair a sweatpants.

the man cleared his throat, offering you a hand. you took it.

"are you alright?" he asked again after pulling you to your feet.

"my head fuckin' hurts." you muttered. he nodded.

"you drank a lot." he stated. then asked, "do you always drink that heavy?"

you shrugged, sitting on the mattress. "how much did i have?"

"a lot of wine, from what i could tell. five shots of whiskey. then you downed vodka with lemon." he recalled. you sighed through your nose.

"well, shit." you looked up at the ceiling. then back at him. "that still doesn't explain how i ended up here with your handsome face."

the man chuckled dryly. "i drank a lot, too." he sighed. "do you remember anything?"

you clicked your tongue, squinting. "not jack shit." you looked up at him. "why, did something happen?"

the man sat beside you. "just that we..." he motioned between the two of you. "...you know, screwed around."

your eyes widened. "oh fuck..."

he nodded. "yeah..."

"no, not that. i don't care about that." you groaned. "please tell me we used protection."

the man stared at you for a second, then looked at the bin. "well, you threw up the red sea all over it, so yeah, we did."

"oh, thank the gods." you laughed slightly. your head pounded. sighing, you looked at him. "um, what's your name?"

he looked at you, then smiled slightly. "leon kennedy."

you nodded, cleared your throat, and looked behind you. "you don't mind if i..." you motioned at the bed the two of you sat on.

"go for it. i'm sure you're tired." leon stood up. you grabbed his wrist, and he looked down at you.

you gave him a sheepish smile. "lay with me?"

he raised his eyebrows, then nodded. you let go of his wrist and crawled under the blankets. he walked around to the other side, sliding in behind you.

closing your eyes, you blush as you feel him press his chest flush against your back.

"by the way," he whispered against the shell of your ear. "you're loud."

———

a/n: i love writing stuff at three in the morning =]] anyway , hope you enjoy !!

[tarpswholesaler]

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[fabraies-archive]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ THE PERFECT PAIR

ꔛ ⋆⁺ +.ﾟmusic store worker! fem! reader x semi eita, just fluff fluff fluff, i came up with this on a whim after getting asked out by my crush so this is why it’s so sweet without a single hint of angst. I am in love your honor

Ding!

The sound makes you whip your head in the direction of the shop entrance at the speed of light; after all, it’s not everyday someone actually steps into your shop.

The soon-to-be-client (you hope, at least), catches your eye after having stood in front of the vinyl section of the store, analysing the albums for around five minutes. You walk over, and as you do so, the handsome stranger is quick to let you know what he weaved you over for: “hey, I was just wondering if this one is still for sale?” He points to a colourful orange album, “there isn’t a price tag on it, so…”

You don’t let him think this for long and take this as an opportunity to showcase your business major skills. 

“No, no, it is for sale. It’s new, and one of the only items we had to restock, so.. pretty popular.” 

Turns out your so called business major skills are actually sort of lacking, especially in front of your intimidatingly handsome client. Your hands fumble with each other, unsure of what to do, before he clears his throat. 

“Great. That’s good to know, but um.. The price ?” 

You could die of embarrassment. You try to answer as straightfowardly as possile, as to avoid making this conversation any more awkward, but your mouth moves faster than your brain and you ramble again. 

“The price! Right, oh my god, I totally forgot I’m so sorry, uh, it doesn’t have a tag on, so I’ll just, um,” You scurry over to the back and manage a little ‘I’ll be back in a minute’ before you disappear behind the orange curtains. 

You come back a few moments later, to find the mysterious young man squatting down, checking out the vinyls. 

“We have some more upstairs if you’re interested.” 

At the sound of your voice, he noticeably jumps, hitting the top of his head on the upper shelf in the process. The scene makes you giggle, although you will admit it is hard to get up from that corner without missing the wood piece; you had experienced it many time already yourself. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just,” He hisses, and holds his throbbing head in his hand. “The guitar ?” He asks again. 

“659$.” 

You congratulate yourself on the curt, straightforward answer, until the expression slowly taking over your client’s face makes you cut your inner festivities short. 

“I’m sorry. It’s an intermediate guitar, so, these usually end up between 500 and 900$. It’s already a pretty nice deal you have here because this is one is on the lower side of said range, but if you really can’t, the beginner guitars are way less-” 

“I’m not a beginner,” Your interlocutor smiles at your genuine attempt to console him. “but thanks. I’ll be back.” 

Just like that, the door hits the entrance bells again, this time to signal that the student left.

You feel stupid for feeling disappointed. Nothing would come out of this encounter, but once again, your delusional tendencies got the best of you. Besides, his looks were a dead giveaway that he was probably swarmed by girls everytime he entered campus. What were the chances for him to choose you out of all the girls that would throw themselves at his feet? 

Only a while later, on your way to close down the store do you notice the little piece of paper that stuck out between the vinyls, just where the gray haired man had been squatting earlier today. Your grab it out of curiosity, only to find a bunch of numbers written down hastily.

Realization hits you; it’s a phone number. You try your best to decipher the numbers when the store’s landline phone starts ringing. 

You jog over to the phone a to not make the person on the other side of the line wait. 

“Hello ?” 

A voice you thought you would never hear again answers, and you wonder what you did for the universe to be so kind to you. 

“Hey, uh, I just wanted to make sure you found my number on the vinyls shelf? And that you could read it. Cause you’re cute and, Valentine’s is coming up..”

[ofthecaravel]

Brandy

Chapter Four

Summary: A port on a western bay serves a hundred ships a day, and the lonely sailors flock to the Caravel Cantina, run by the Kiszka brothers (minus one). But when their brother returns with a handsome sailor in tow, the youngest Kiszka brother finds his perspective about his family and himself turned upside down.

Tags: Nothing but good vibes tbh

Words: 5.4k

A/N: This is my apology for the last chapter. My bad! Enjoy.

~~~

After two hours, the sun had finally started to peek through the heavy clouds. Though it had continued to drizzle, Sam and Daniel had decided to brave the weather and grab a quick lunch at the pub attached to the inn. Due to the weather and it being the middle of the work day, there weren't many patrons, and Sam picked a corner booth for them to eat quickly where nobody would bother them. Now that he knew why Daniel wasn't keen on public places during the day, Sam felt the inherent need to help blanket his presence with the antisocial cues he'd picked up over the years that he used to go unbothered in public. At lunch, Daniel spoke in hushed tones as he regaled Sam with his sailor's stories, and with each tale, Sam swore he could see the ocean fall and rise in his eyes. As Daniel got lost in the details of near death encounters and simple fishing trips, Sam could see the sea and all her raging glory. 

Sam had a few drinks with his meal, and when they'd returned to Daniel's room, he felt the liquor sitting warmly in his stomach and smiled at the calm it spread through his body. He'd been so wound up the whole day that it felt good to finally feel present in his body. Sam sat on the chair set up next to the record player and tucked his legs to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee with a dopey smile as Daniel locked the door behind them and tossed the keys onto the dresser. When he saw Sam curled up on the chair, he gave him a crooked smile and a questioning eyebrow raise.

"What?" Daniel laughed.

"Nothing," Sam chirped. "Wow, did they really provide a record player without any vinyl to play on it? What a scam."

"It came with one on it but I haven't played it yet," Daniel answered, lifting the glass lid and gently moving the record already on the platter. 

"Play it," Sam said, his demand coming out more like a gentle request. Daniel nodded without a word and turned it on, lifting and then dropping the needle as the record began to spin gently. A burst of soft crackles faded into a quiet orchestral suite, and Sam nodded along to it as Daniel sat on the edge of the bed closest to him. He began tapping the percussion onto his knee as they listened in rapt silence and Sam found himself tracking and humming the low notes as the music swelled.

"Before you ask," Sam blurted suddenly, startling Daniel but not interrupting his rhythmic tapping. "I don't dance."

"I wasn't going to ask," Daniel assured him with a grin, his eyes darting around the wall in front of him like it was plastered in sheet music he was following. "I don't dance either."

"It's just, I wouldn't put it past you to ask," Sam continued. "So I figured I'd clear it up."

"Fair enough," Daniel chuckled, and they settled into another spell of quiet as the record moved onto the next track, a romantic woodwind heavy song that furled and flirted. For some reason he couldn't put words to, it made Sam's cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he opted to avert his eyes from Daniel as he lolled his head against the back of the chair. His braids, now frizzy from the rain and humidity, pressed uncomfortably into his skull and he leaned forward again to pull loose their ribbons. Sam worked his fingers against the tight ribs of the plaits and loosened them, pulling free two curtains of waves that he finger combed together. When he looked up, Daniel was watching him with an odd glint in his eye. His pupils were wide but his lids were low as Sam shook his hair back and shot Daniel a grimace.

"What?"

"You're pretty."

Sam thought back to that first conversation at the jukebox only a few days ago when Daniel had said the same thing. He recognized the look in his eye now. He had seen it then, too. Sam didn't say anything but held his gaze, resting his head on his knee again and allowing himself to really look at Daniel. He mentally traced the shadow of his collarbones pressing against his shirt and the moisture still clinging to his curls as they framed his sharp face. 

"Like a mermaid," Daniel went on in a way that Sam expected to lilt upwards into a joke, but instead Daniel swallowed nervously and let his eyes flit to Sam's mouth for a moment as Sam's lips parted.

"I'm no mermaid," Sam insisted, his voice soft and gravelly.  

"You're as pretty as one," Daniel insisted. 

"You said that already," Sam pointed out with a coy smile. "Uh, so are you."

Daniel blinked in surprise at Sam's admission, leaning back but never tearing his eyes from Sam's.

"Complimenting me twice in one day?" Daniel mused. "Should we call someone about making it a national holiday? I mean, this is unheard of."

"Oh, shut up, I'm trying," Sam sputtered, pushing his hair out of his face anxiously. "We can't all be smooth talkers like you."

"I triple dog dare you to compliment me one more time before the day is done. Three is a holy number, you know."

"Are you a pious man, Daniel?"

Daniel grinned wickedly at that.

"I'm a fucking angel," Daniel said, and the grit in his tone sent a flash of heat through Sam.  

"As if," Sam challenged, giving Daniel an unimpressed look. Daniel shot it right back to him. 

"I thought I asked you to compliment me, not insult me," Daniel remarked. "You've done enough of that."

"Alright," Sam huffed, sitting up straight and taking advantage of the courage his adrenaline was supplying him with. "Just because you have an angel face doesn't mean you're an angel. There's a compliment and an insult to balance it out. Happy?"

"Yes," Daniel beamed. "You think I have an angel face."

"Shut up," Sam repeated dumbly, his nerves short circuiting his brain once again. 

"What should we do instead, then?"

Daniel wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at Sam to let him know that his words had no real bite to them if Sam didn't want them to. 

This made it all the more satisfying for Sam to watch his eyes widen in surprise when Sam abruptly stood up, straddled Daniel, cupped his cheeks and connected their lips all in one flurry of motion. 

Daniel gasped against his mouth and grabbed frantically at Sam, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Sam's waist and pulling him into his chest, causing them to tip backwards and land with Daniel flat on his back and Sam hovering over him. They both laughed against each other's lips, knowing there were plenty of jokes to be made in this situation, but neither making any move to separate. Sam dove his hand into the pool of Daniel's waves and grasped them at the root, holding his head in place while he rained down a barrage of feverish, open mouthed kisses that Daniel received with smiling lips and panting breath. Sam hadn't kissed anyone since he was a kid, but with Daniel, it was like this was all they knew how to do together. It was a natural rhythm they moved to, with Daniel pressing their bodies together as Sam held them steady. Finally, Sam came up for air, his hair wild and his mouth pink and wet with spit as he struggled to breathe. Daniel stared up at him unblinking, his face painted with pure bliss and his hair fanned out around him like a painting.

"You were never going to kiss me first," Sam gasped between breaths. "Were you?"

"No," Daniel breathed raggedly, his hands smoothing up and down Sam's sides, eventually pushing up the thin fabric of his shirt to do so without a barrier. "Never."

"You're so..." Sam shook his head, not sure where that sentence was supposed to go. 

"Yeah, same to you," Daniel agreed, knowing in the way that he always did.

Sam was lost for a moment, staring into the depths of Daniel's face, only snapping out of it when Daniel pitifully knit his brows and tightened his grip on Sam's skin.

"Sam," he pleaded simply, and Sam couldn't help but indulge him, dipping down again and giving Daniel a much softer, lighter kiss. They both sighed into it, moving slowly and intentionally as Daniel licked over the dip in Sam's bottom lip and gently slid his tongue into Sam's mouth, who accepted it with a quiet whine. If he hadn't been so caught up in the moment, Sam would've found this involuntary noise completely humiliating, but Daniel rewarded him with a muffled groan of his own. Sam tested this, allowing another whimper to escape when Daniel squeezed his hips. Daniel proved his hypothesis with the manic way he sat up and suddenly flipped Sam, who landed on his back with a squeal and giggled into Daniel's mouth. His giggle was cut short and morphed into his loudest whine yet when Daniel's mouth left his own and traveled down Sam's neck, leaving behind a trail of feather light kisses that sent shockwaves through Sam's entire body. He'd thought the strain in his pants was the most sensitive spot on his body right then, but he decided it was definitely his neck, unable to keep himself from whispering a stream of praises as Daniel nipped at the base of his neck and kissed his way back up to tender spots at the corners of his jaw.

"I bet," Sam started, struggling to form words as Daniel pushed his shirt up further and ghosted his fingertips over Sam's smooth skin. "That move must drive your girls in other ports crazy."

"What?" Daniel asked absently as he kissed along Sam's collarbone.

"You know what they say, that a sailor has a girl in every port," Sam joked breathlessly.

Daniel moved away from Sam's skin, giving Sam a shockingly serious and earnest expression as he looked down at Sam. His hand moved up and brushed Sam's hair off his forehead, twisting his wrist to graze his knuckles along the outline of Sam's cheek and jawline.

"I don't have girls in other ports," Danny rasped sincerely, his eyes dancing over Sam's features. "I have you. In this port. If, uh, you'll have me."

Sam's face heated up and he linked his arms around Danny's neck, unabashedly shining his full, unrestrained smile up at him. 

"Yeah," Sam hummed softly. "Sure. I'll have you."

"Good," Daniel responded. "I mean, you know I can't stay."

"I know," Sam whispered, his stomach sinking a little at the thought that Daniel would be gone in only a few days. He recalled something Daniel had said at lunch and repeated it. "No harbor is your home."

"Nope," Daniel agreed, his mind drifting as he skimmed Sam's bottom lip with his thumb. "But, I mean, you know I've been sailing this whole time for you, right?"

"Fuckin' liar," Sam insisted, kissing the tip of Daniel's thumb. "You just met me."

"But I was waiting for a while before that. I knew there was something out there worth risking a life at sea for and here you are. I just have this feeling you're that 'something', Sam."

"Daniel," Sam protested, overwhelmed and flustered at Daniel's words. 

"I'm serious!" Daniel laughed, rolling off of Sam and laying next to him, propping himself up on an elbow. "You feel it, too. Admit it. You like me. You really, actually like me."

"Danny," Sam whined, covering his face with his hands. 

"Danny?" Daniel echoed with amusement. "You know, I've always hated that nickname. It feels so childish. But I actually like it when you say it."

"Yeah?"

Sam turned onto his side and put a hand on Daniel's cheek, tipping his chin down to look straight into his eyes.

"Danny," Sam breathed teasingly, drawing out every syllable in a sing-song melody. Daniel's eyes fluttered and Sam felt the skin under his fingers grow warm. 

"Sammy," Daniel breathed back in the same cadence, letting Sam drag him down into another long, spit slicked kiss that left Sam unconsciously arching up off the blankets and into Daniel's needy touch. 

"Stay," Daniel murmured against Sam's lips, lifting his own shirt up to press their bare chests together as Daniel leaned against him again. Sam shuddered at the welcome sensation of Daniel's chest hair tickling his own smooth chest, snaking his arm around Daniel's torso and tracing shapes around the muscles on the toned expanse of his back. 

"You stay," Sam countered, pouting.

"I want to," Danny muttered longingly, giving Sam a few more kisses before speaking again. "I do. But I have a job. That ship would fall apart without me."

"You're a model pirate," Sam teased, and laughed when Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'm serious! You're an inspiration. You should write a book."

"Ssh," Daniel shushed, his arm wrapping around Sam as he started planting a score of soft kisses on Sam's cheek and jaw. His voice was strained and quiet in Sam's ear, sending a plume of warm breath across Sam's skin that made him shiver and rake his nails against Daniel's back. "I don't know how long I get to have you like this."

"You dog," Sam accused with a giggle, his laugh cutting off into a shaking gasp as Daniel's tongue darted out against the hollow of his throat.

"Oh, please," Daniel hummed gruffly against his skin. "I bought your lunch. I'll even cover your shift for you tonight."

"Ssh," Sam mocked, cupping Daniel's face. "Kiss me."

"As you wish," Daniel smiled, doing just that and a little (a lot) more.

 -

Once the sky was brushed in mauve tones of the setting sun, Daniel walked Sam home, looking both ways down the road before giving Sam another kiss.

"You ready to handle this?" Daniel asked quietly, sensing Sam's apprehension at walking back into the fray of his family. Sam nodded in affirmation, but his heart was fluttering in his chest as he speculated about what exactly he was about to walk into. Had Josh calmed down at all? Was Jake even still there? 

"Hey, it'll be alright," Daniel purred, tucking one of Sam's wild waves behind his ear. "And if it's not, you know you have somewhere calm to sleep tonight if you need it. I'll wait up for you."

"You don't need to do that," Sam insisted. 

"I'll do it anyways," Daniel answered with a smile, and Sam's heart ached longingly. 

"You sap," Sam teased, patting Daniel on the shoulder before turning his body towards the door. "Thank you. For that, but also for today. You're sweet."

"And you're getting sweeter by the minute," Daniel fawned, gently tapping Sam's chin with his finger as Sam groaned and stuck his key in the lock.

"Oh, please, don't gi-" Sam was cut off by the resistance in the door when he attempted to swing it open, looking down curiously as he tried to push the door again. It felt like something was blocking it, and Daniel followed Sam's gaze as he jiggled the doorknob. 

"What the fuck?" Sam whispered, knocking against the door in annoyance and jumping when he was met with the loud crow of a chicken peppered with loud shuffling and muffled cursing. The door swung open from the other side, held open by a ruffled looking Josh and Clarice the chicken curled up in the crook of his arm. 

"Sam!" Josh cried, rushing forward and giving Sam a side hug with his free arm, effectively pulling him into the house. "Oh, my god, come in, where have you been? I was worried fucking sick! I've been sitting in front of the door for, what, 3 hours now just waiting for you to get home."

"I went to the inn and got lunch with Daniel," Sam paused nervously. "And, uh, dinner, too."

"Hi," Daniel piped up sheepishly, still waiting awkwardly in the doorway outside. Josh looked at him past Sam's shoulder, looked back up at Sam, looked back at Daniel and then smiled smugly up at Sam.

"Something tells me you had dessert, too, huh?" Josh whispered, leaning his head so that Daniel couldn't see his toothy grin when he said it. Sam glared at his brother, his face flushing with heat. 

"Shut up," Sam hissed through his teeth, turning towards Daniel as Josh tried and failed miserably to wipe the cheeky smile off his face. "Thanks for walking me home, Danny. I'll see you in a few hours, yeah?"

"Yeah," Daniel confirmed, waving to Josh again. "Good to see you! Give Jake my best!"

"Mmhm!" Josh hummed through closed lips, waving enthusiastically as Daniel strolled away. Josh reached his arm past Sam and closed the door loudly, giving Sam another amused look as Sam looked over his head in an attempt to stave off the inevitable questioning and teasing he knew was coming. 

"What was that about?" Josh squealed in a failed attempt at a hushed tone. Clarice ruffled in his arms as he followed Sam from the door to the couch, sitting down harshly and sending a few stray feathers from Clarice cartoonishly up into the air. 

“What was what about?" Sam asked innocently, unlacing his shoes and kicking them off. He refused to meet Josh's eye as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up, keeping his eyes on the wall while he felt Josh's eyes burning a hole through his back.

"That tension!" Josh hissed, mock gasping and clutching a hand to his heart. "I mean, my god, the way that kid just looked at you. He looked like he wanted to take a bite out of you. It was disgustingly cute. Mostly disgusting, though."

"Oh my god, nothing happened!" Sam scoffed unconvincingly. "I can't have a friend?"

"Who are you fooling with that? 'Friend'...oh, please," Josh chuckled, shaking his head in dismissal. "I know you, dumbass. I know when you're sweet on someone."

"I'm never 'sweet' on anyone," Sam countered. 

"Exactly!"

Sam groaned and sat next to Josh on the couch, startling Clarice again and sending her scrambling out of Josh's arms and half running-half flying to the kitchen. The brothers watched her in quiet entertainment before Sam sighed and rubbed his neck.

"Hey, uh, before anything else," Sam started hesitantly. "Is everything okay here?"

It was Josh's turn to sigh, tucking his knee to his chest as he thought.

"Jake's been locked up in his room for the time I was out here waiting for you," Josh said calmly, shrugging. "I still don't know what I'm going to say to him."

"Me neither," Sam answered quietly, pausing before he spoke again. "We were pretty hard on him, huh?"

"I guess," Josh agreed begrudgingly. "It's just such an extreme situation I figured it warranted that same extremity back. But, I mean, fuck, man. It's Jake. I can't stay mad at him. And if he says he's being safe, then he's probably being safe. You know I worry about him more than I should."

"I do, too," Sam assured him. "And we can be mad about it, too. But he's here right now and I think we should spend time with him while we know for sure that he's safe."

"You're right." Josh smiled at Sam, crinkling his eyebrows thoughtfully. "How did you turn out so smart?"

"I guess I was raised by smart people," Sam replied with a shy smile in return.

"Aww," Josh cooed, leaning his head against Sam's shoulder. "Shucks."

"Come on, let's go get our questionably smart brother," Sam announced, standing up and leaving Josh to lean over and fall on his side on the cushions. He sighed in agreement and rolled dramatically onto the floor before getting to his feet and following Sam to Jake's door. They gave each other a nervous look before Sam rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Jake?" Sam called. There was no response, so he opened the door and found Jake face down on his bed, one of his legs hanging off the edge and his arms buried under his pillow.

"Come on, Jake, up and at 'em," Josh urged, sitting on the mattress with a cheerful bounce.

Jake gave a muffled grunt in response, snuffling wetly and not moving an inch. 

"We're not mad anymore," Sam insisted, sitting cross legged on the floor by the head of the bed. 

"Concerned, yes, but not mad," Josh added, and Jake groaned. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Jake, we don't think you're some evil pirate villain."

"We do think you're stupid, though."

"A little, yes."

"But that's only 'cause we love you!"

"So much!"

Jake finally lifted his head from his pillow, and his brothers physically recoiled when they saw Jake's pink face puffy from tears, lined with wrinkles from the pillow and sweaty hair glued to his forehead. He looked absolutely pathetic and worn down and Sam immediately burst into raucous laughter. Josh's laughter escaped as a loud stream of air whistled its way out from between his clamped lips and Jake scoffed loudly at their reactions as he sat up.

"Some family you are!" Jake cried and Sam launched into another round of hysterics, falling back onto the rug as Josh clamped a supportive hand on Jake's shoulder but failed to let out any coherent words of affirmation, giggling whenever he tried to speak.  

"You look like Rip Van Winkle after his 20 year slumber," Sam wheezed. 

"Yeah, I was weeping because my family was furious with me," Jake explained slowly, sitting up while Sam and Josh attempted to contain their laughs. "And now said family is laughing at my sorrows."

"I'm sorry, Jake," Josh lamented, wrapping his arms around Jake's shoulders and nuzzling his curls against Jake's ear. "Your sorrows are just really funny looking."

"You're funny looking."

"No, you're funny looking."

"We're all funny looking," Sam said, leaning forward and joining in the brotherly embrace by resting his chin on Jake's knee. "Sorry, Jake."

"No, no, I'm sorry," Jake sighed, combing his damp hair with his fingers. "I shouldn't have lied to you guys, and I'm really sorry about that. I don't like lying, I just knew you'd get upset."

"And we did," Josh agreed, Sam nodding along with him. "You know it's because we care. Just...next time you become a swashbuckling pirate captain, please tell us."

"I will, I will," Jake finally laughed. "I love you idiots a lot, you know that?"

"We love you too," Sam hummed, and Jake patted his head. Josh crushed Jake in a hug until Jake started to wheeze for breath and haphazardly slapped his twin off of him, who kept his arms locked around him as they began to tussle. 

"Avast, ye scurvy dog!" Josh crowed in a stereotypical pirate voice as Jake pushed back against him, sending Sam into another laughing fit. He leaned back and watched his older brothers bicker and eventually roll off the bed onto the carpet as Josh chuckled and Jake clawed out of his embrace. 

"We don't even talk like that," Jake protested, chuckling breathlessly. "You'd be surprised."

"Do you have a skull and crossbones flag?" Sam asked, sitting cross legged attentively. 

"No," Jake answered patiently. Sam frowned. 

"Lame," Sam said in disappointment. "Daniel said you did."

"Daniel is a damn dirty liar, then. When did he say that?"

"Over lunch."

Jake's eyes widened and Josh's impish grin returned as Sam realized what he had done.

"Over lunch?" Jake parroted, his voice lilting in shock. "When did you have lunch?"

"Today," Sam answered coolly, ignoring Josh's silent kissy faces. "We hung out while I was mad."

"Wait, you were out that entire time?" Jake gasped, Josh's glee visibly heightening as Sam shrank back. "So, what, 9am to 6pm?"

"So?" Sam squeaked out, already breaking out in sweats from this interrogation. Whenever the twins cornered him, they always got the information that they wanted. Sam didn't even know how they did it. Together, they could weave together the perfect trap that Sam fell into every single time. 

"And you were getting lunch?" Jake continued.

"He also mentioned dinner," Josh chimed in. "So, lunch and dinner."

"Okay, lunch and dinner," Jake confirmed as they leaned back against the side of the bed in perfect sync. "My, my. That's a lot of time between those two meals. What did you two get up to?"

"We got rained in," Sam answered truthfully, keeping his face as neutral as he could, shrugging casually as he spoke. "Listened to a record, talked about pirate shit."

"He's telling the truth," Jake mumbled, narrowing his eyes to analyze Sam. Sam smiled innocently, wondering if this would be the first time he could actually get away with a secret that was all his own. 

"Hm," Josh grumbled, raising an eyebrow at Sam as a smile crept back onto his face. "So nothing else happened?"

Sam floundered for a moment too long, and he immediately knew he was screwed. Instantly, the twins descended on him in a flurry of triumphant yells and questions.

"I knew it! I knew it! Tell me everything!" Jake hollered, shaking Sam's knee. Sam kicked at them and backed up until he was flush with the wall. 

"There's nothing to tell!" Sam insisted, his voice hitting a shrill range that made him sound even guiltier. Jake and Josh's eyes were flaring brightly and Sam knew that it was going to take a lot more than that to get them to back down. 

"You lie!" Josh argued. "Spill. Did you hold hands?"

"No." Sam spat. 

"Did you kiss?" Jake asked.

Sam clammed up.

"You did!" Josh cheered, smacking Sam on the shoulder and then retracting it just as fast. "Aw, but also ew!"

"No details, have mercy," Jake pleaded, yet continued on his rampage. "But, like, was it good?"

"Ew!" Sam shrieked. "Why do you want to know, you perv?"

"Because I'm nosy!"

"I am also nosy," Josh added with an affirming head shake. 

"I'm well aware, thank you," Sam snapped, cheeks flushing hotly as he feigned supreme annoyance. 

"So?" Jake prodded, both in questioning and with a physical poking of Sam's arm. "Good? Bad? Yes? No?"

"It..." Sam trailed off, mortified beyond words. "It, well, okay, listen-"

"It couldn't have been bad," Josh decided, exchanging a nod with Jake. "You can tell Daniel knows what he's doing. I mean, and excuse me for this, Sam, but awooga." 

"Yeah, no, you need to lock that down, Sammy," Jake agreed sagely. "What if we meet some mermaids? You don't want them stealing your man away from you."

"I'm not worried about that," Sam noted mysteriously, a touch of pride in his voice as he recalled Daniel's mermaid comparison from earlier. 

"Awful confident, aren't we?" Jake teased.

"And yet, you won't tell us anything to give us motivation to back up this confidence," Josh sighed dramatically, side eyeing Sam pitifully in an attempt to pry out more information.

"I thought mum was the word on details, you freaks," Sam said haughtily. 

"We'll start worrying about details when you tell us one singular thing," Jake retorted impatiently. "So far that has not happened. Spill."

"Spill," Josh repeated. Sam let out a deep, deep sigh and rolled his eyes petulantly.

"Well..." Sam started, looking up at the ceiling as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. "I'll have you know I made the first move."

"Now that's a plot twist," Jake laughed as Josh let out a long, low whistle. "Nice to hear you have some guts. I mean, it's news to me, but, wow."

"Do you want me to tell you my salacious escapades or would you prefer to keep teasing me?" Sam snipped, crossing his arms. Jake and Josh exchanged a genuine look of consideration.

"Is 'both' an option?" Jake asked.

"I'd love to do both," Josh agreed. 

"Fuck off, the 'both' of you," Sam whined, weakly kicking at them again. "Now you get nothing."

"Noo," Josh booed. "Come on, one more thing. Then we'll leave you alone."

"Swear to God," Jake promised, and both he and Josh covered their hearts with very serious expressions. Sam sighed again and opted to hide his face behind his hand as he spoke.

"He, uh," Sam went on, hiding his face further in his hand as he powered through. "We kissed. I don't know how long but it was, you know, it was fine. It was...good."

Instantly, the twins recoiled and launched into a loud, theatrical cacophony of overlapping cries and gags. Josh fell backwards, slowly sliding down the side of the bed with a faux death rattle in his throat as Jake shook his head and repeated pleas for Sam to 'spare him'.

"You asked!" Sam shrieked, his body burning from head to toe with flames of embarrassment as his brothers writhed and moaned. They only broke their façade for a moment so they could indulge in the joy of seeing Sam crumple up and scowl at them.

"It was just so graphic," Josh insisted, a smile breaking through his howls of agony. "I mean, the thought of you kissing anybody is foul."

"Kissing is a sacred act," Jake explained, feigning grief as he rubbed his temples. "Now it's forever tainted in my brain."

"YOU told ME to go out with him!" Sam squealed, kicking Jake on the shoulder. "YOU asked to hear about it!"

"Did not!"

Sam let out a wordless howl of frustration and the twins bubbled over with satisfied cackles as Sam struggled to get to his feet, their laughs rising an octave as his socks slipped against the hardwood and he struggled to get the traction he needed. 

"I," Sam snapped, throwing open Jake's door. "Am going to get ready for work. Because I am a responsible adult."

"Okay, okay, but remember," Josh said, wagging a finger at Sam. "I expect you and that pirate boy to keep your hands off each other at work."

“Fuck off!”

Sam listened to his brothers continue to giggle and talk quietly as he stalked off towards his room and rolled his eyes. However, the second his door was shut, he couldn’t help but let his face split into a huge smile as he fell face first onto the bed. With a moment of quiet to himself for the first time all day, Sam let his brain replay every precious moment from his afternoon with Daniel that he could possibly remember. He wondered absently if he should write it all down, just so that he could keep the imagery of every glossy curl that swung in his face and the cadence of every breathy word from Daniel fresh in his mind. Sam’s face burned as he stayed buried in his pillow, trying desperately to keep a little exclamation of excitement from erupting as he thought of Daniel waiting for him at work. God, how was he supposed to focus during his shift? Having done what he’d done and not being able to dive deeper like he wanted to? It was going to be torture. Delicious, delicious torture. 

-

The night had passed slowly, and despite being distinctly aware that Josh and Jake were constantly on the verge of throwing a glass at his head, Sam had been absolutely unbearable and proud of it. Daniel had kept his promise and tried to cover as much of Sam’s tables as possible, but every spare moment was spent tossing glances back and forth and flirting unabashedly. After a particularly ridiculous giggle from Sam at something Daniel had whispered in his ear, Sam had heard Jake mutter something to Josh about a suicide pact, which Josh had accompanied with a gagging noise. 

But Sam didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He was fully aware of how unlike himself he was behaving, but he felt loyal to the compulsion to sink completely into the feeling that Daniel gave him. When walking home, Daniel and Sam strode far ahead of the twins, lost in their own little world. When Daniel talked with Jake for an extra 10 minutes about a Friday night dinner plan, Sam had clung to Daniel’s arm, listening quietly for maybe the first time in his life with his cheek pressed to Daniel’s bicep. When the twins were inside, Sam felt the world melt away into irrelevance when Daniel gave him a goodnight kiss on the front step that turned into two or twenty. And when Sam’s head hit the pillow, he felt every muscle in his body finally relax and his mind let him sleep. A deep sleep at that, one that dreams didn’t even touch, and even in this sleep Sam wished that it would last forever.

~~~

[sacredstarcatcher]

Cruel Summer - Part 4

Jake & Sam x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Cutness, flirting, Rosie, pickles, oral sex (f receiving), language. :)

This one's short because part five is 5k words. Heh.

You were left with two weeks of rehearsals before the show. Though the scales and tails of the costumes vacated your apartment, you were still drowning in last minute responsibilities. That’s why you were seemingly pried out of your home by Sam on Saturday morning. Neither he nor any of his brothers, local or not, had heard from you in days. 

“You need vitamin D,” he says, speaking with his hands, gesturing at the sky. “You’re working your summer away. Come on. Even Rosie thinks you’re about to lose it.” He’s right. She was glued to your side as you walked the streets of Nashville. 

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?!” you say, gesturing at the sky. “You got me out here. I’m absorbing all of the vitamin D the sun can give me. Now lay off.” 

He shakes his head at you as he pushes open the door to the record store. The owner shoots both of you a wave as you enter, and Sam sends one back, lifting his gangly arm and big hand over your head. Once you’re inside, he steps in front of you, hunching down to look directly into your eyes. He’s so close to your face, your heart skips a beat.

“We have a big day ahead of us. First, we’re looking through the new boxes of vinyls in the back before they put them out. Then we’re taking the goods back to my house and listening to as many as we can as we pick the cucumbers from my garden and I teach you my secret pickling technique. Are you going to be cranky the entire time? Or are we going to enjoy ourselves?” 

You can’t help but grin at him despite the stress of your life at the moment. “We can enjoy ourselves,” you lament with a smirk, walking past him towards the beaded curtain at the back of the store. 

You stand next to him as he sorts through the bins on his knees, accepting the ones he’s taking home with him into your arms. You can’t help but giggle at the way he repeatedly pushes his hair from his face to see the vinyls beneath him. 

“Gonna get you a headband,” you mumble, leaning on the wall. He gives you a warning look before continuing on his search.

“That was a little too high on the grumpy-ometer. Take it down a bit.”

-oOo-

“I thought the cucumbers were next?” you ask, wondering why you’re pulling into the thrift store parking lot. He shakes his head as if he’s in disbelief over you not knowing why you’re there.

“You can’t garden in a white sundress. We’re going thrifting.” 

As you enter the thrift store, Rosie tags along obediently through the racks of clothing. Sam seems determined as he scans the hangers. His mission: finding you some gardening clothes. He can’t resist the mens section, pulling three short sleeve button downs you think are hideous, but he’s never looked bad a day in his life, so you trust his judgment.

Eventually he pulls a pair of shorts for you that aren’t terrible. They’re a light wash pair with a high waist and elastic for stretch. You hold them over your arm when he hands them to you with a smile.

You’re a bit more reluctant, however, when he grabs a t-shirt that reads “#1 Dad” across the front. 

“Oh, no. No way.” You keep walking down the row, but he tosses it at you, the tee landing over your eyes.

“It’s been decided. Let’s go check out.” 

-oOo-

You’re standing behind Sam in his backyard, watching him bent over in the dirt, listening to his ramblings about cucumbers. 

You’re boiling in the sun despite the hat on your head and sunglasses over your eyes. 

You’re barefoot in the grass because Sam didn’t want your sandals to get dirty, but it’s clear that he severely overestimated how deep into this gardening process you would be. 

You’re wearing a pair of mom shorts and a t-shirt tied into a crop top, the wrinkled words #1 Dad spread across your chest. 

You’re tired as hell.

Sam places a few cucumbers into the basket you’re holding as he talks and talks and talks, and while he’s not paying attention, you drag over a chair from the lawn furniture to sit on. He turns to give you the next handful and catches you sunning yourself.

“If I die, you’re not going to have any way to make my famous pickles. Nobody ever listens to me when I explain this shit!” You look at him over your sunglasses, not taking him seriously in the slightest. He stands and pulls off his gloves, brushing the dirt from his knees. “You’ll all be sorry,” he says jokingly, incredibly reminiscent of a cranky old man, and takes the basket from you to bring inside.

You’re grateful that on his rockstar salary, Sam can afford to keep his house a relieving 69 degrees. You work alongside him, slicing the cucumbers after he washes them, placing them on the cutting board and aiming for the perfect spear. You know you’ve missed the mark when Sam inspects the pile of slices and pulls a face.

“What you want to do…” he begins, approaching you from behind. He steadies your hand on the cucumber and grabs your hand on top of the knife. “...is hold it flat, but cut in at an angle, instead of straight through.” His hair is brushing the back of your neck, his breath hitting your ear and the side of your face. You can’t help the way your body leans backwards just slightly, pressing your back against his broad chest. 

“Mhm,” you respond, making sure he knows you’re definitely listening now. You’ll remember this part of the technique until the end of time. He gently slices through the first half with you, then the second. 

“You try,” he says, letting go of your hand. He moves his to rest on either side of you on the countertop, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. All you can do is take a nervous breath before slicing once, then twice, then dropping the knife. Your hands are absolutely shaking and before you know it, Rosie’s pushing between you two. You whip around to look down at her as Sam steps backwards, then at each other. 

“Rosie. Go lay down.” He says it calmly, his voice gentle. The only sound you hear is her paws gently clicking against the tile of the kitchen as she listens dutifully and heads to her bed. 

It’s then that Sam clears the short distance between you with two big steps. He immediately pulls you into his embrace, his hands wrapping around your waist, his lips crashing into yours. You moan in surprise, eagerly returning the kiss, pulling his face closer to yours between both of your palms. 

It’s all rushed and hurried as if you’re on borrowed time. Because you are, after all. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you chase it with yours, reveling in the taste of his mouth. He’s so sweet, just like you’d imagined, twinged with the flavor of the fruity Topo Chico he’s been drinking. 

“Hey,” he says, breaking apart from you, but you kiss him again. “Wait,” he says, mumbling against your lips.

You pull him in for yet another wanton kiss, signaling you desperately don’t want it to end. You don’t care, you just want him. He accepts your kisses, but his grip on your waist loosens.

“We can’t,” he says, and you feel it all come crashing down. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step back. You look at him, flushed and confused, the disappointment written all over your face. 

“Sam,” you begin, but your feelings sink deeper into your gut. You aren’t ready to be that vulnerable. It’s safer to let him talk first.

“I shouldn’t have. It’s just…” He sighs and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. You recognize this feeling. He has a difficult time talking about his emotions and they’re running high right now. “I feel so distant from her. I’ve been using you to fill the void. And that’s not right.” 

You’re trying to keep your composure, but it’s getting harder by the second as you realize you’ve been developing feelings for Sam and he’s just been using you as emotional support. You blink away the tears and put on a brave face, adjusting your shirt and wiping your eyes. 

“It’s fine. We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I’ve really been lonely without Jake so… That makes sense.” You head to the door to slip on your shoes and grab your keys, but realize Sam picked you up this morning. 

“Let me drive you home,” he says, quickly making his way around the kitchen island towards the door. You put up a hand and give a fake smile, politely declining. 

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m gonna walk. It’s a beautiful day. I’ll see you at the wedding, Sam.” Before he can come any closer, you slip out the front door and down the stone path, making your way down the street. 

A week passes after the incident at Sam’s. You’re more than happy when Jake’s back in town and you’re able to think with a clear head. You’ve effectively convinced yourself that you were probably just projecting your feelings for Jake onto Sam while he was away. Sam hadn’t even crossed your mind until it was time to see him again- the Saturday of the wedding approached faster than you would have liked.

You make your way to Jake’s, seeing as you graciously offered to be the designated driver. With your dress in its garment bag over your arm, your makeup and hair already done, you put the code into Jake’s front door and enter, calling out for him. 

You stride through the door when you hear his voice call back to you from upstairs. You hike up the staircase to find him standing in his walk-in closet, tucking his dress shirt in.

“I look stupid,” he says, fidgeting with the waistband of his pants and the button-down that’s disobeying every order he gives. You chuckle, watching him from the doorway.

“You look handsome. You just… aren’t very good at wearing shirts the right way.” He turns to meet your eyes and gives you an unserious glare..

“Fuck off,” he says playfully as he tries to hide a smile. He reaches for the suit coat and puts it on, shrugging to make sure it fits correctly. You watch as he adjusts the lapels and scrutinizes himself in the mirror.

He leaves the room for a moment and you begin to get into your dress. You’re facing away from the door adjusting the straps when he re-enters. 

“Can you zip me up?” You look over your shoulder at him, and you can’t say the gaze you shoot him isn’t flirtatious. He can’t do anything but oblige,and his hands are so warm on your bare skin as he hooks the clasp at the top of the zipper that you lean into his touch, wanting, needing more. He steadies the fabric of the zipper with one hand as he pulls it up, then places his hands on your shoulders. You’re watching him behind you in the mirror while  he takes in the sight of you in the dress. 

He drops his head and places a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. “You look good enough to eat,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Mmm, yeah?” you flirt, turning in his embrace to face him. With a quickness you were unprepared for, he lifts you up and carries you out of the closet, tossing you onto his bed. The chiffon of your dress falls to the side, leaving the slit wide open as the material pools under you. 

The way he looks down at you lights a fire in your belly. He looks annoyingly sexy in the world's most wrinkled dress shirt and black sport coat, the lapels a contrasting velvet to the rest of the suit. His eyes are dark with lust and you feel like you’re going to implode if he doesn’t take you right there and then. He slides the jacket off his shoulders though it feels like he just put it on. You’re mesmerized by his hands and forearms as he works to roll up his sleeves.

His hands are gentle as he moves the delicate fabric up your legs and pulls down your panties. He smugly takes a look at them before folding them in half and pocketing them.

“Seeing me in a suit gets you fired up, huh?” he mumbles against your skin as he kisses down your thigh. 

“Jake,” you whine, needing him to speed it up. “We’re gonna be late.” 

“I have a feeling this won’t take long,” he says with a chuckle, making you jump as he places a love bite on your inner thigh. You can’t help but spread your legs further, waiting impatiently for his mouth. He places an open mouth kiss at the peak of your pussy, giving you only a small amount of relief.  “Fuck,” he lets out before giving another, this time his tongue venturing a bit further between your folds. 

“Can’t believe you’re gonna make me go to this stupid fucking wedding instead of-” he interrupts himself by placing another sloppy kiss on your clit. “...burying my face between your legs for the rest of the night,” he grumbles, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your wetness. 

You let out a frustrated whine, feeling like you’re about to combust. He’s riling you up, talking to you like he’s about to make you see God, but somehow he’s barely touching you. You buck your hips, hoping his fingers will finally touch you where you absolutely need him to. He gives an arrogant chuckle in response, finally slipping two fingers inside you. You gasp feeling his middle and ring finger curl forward deliciously inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot. 

Then he’s finally, finally between your legs, his plush lips attaching to suck at your clit, humming into you as he gets a taste. You look down at the sound to see his eyes, lazy and glassy, looking up at you while he works you over. You’re unable to even think straight; seeing him between your legs with his wide eyes reveling in the taste of you is simply too much. You throw your head back and let out another moan, lacing your hand through his hair. 

“God, Jake,” you let out in a breathy, slutty moan. You couldn’t recognize the sound of your own voice if it was played back to you. He detaches his lips from you, looking up to see you. 

“Yes baby,” he asks, letting his fingers do the work for a moment. “Tell me,” he encourages, feeling you beginning to tighten up around him.

“I’m gonna cum- fuck- please,” you whimper, blindly searching for his head to pull it back and feel his mouth again. He gives in, meeting your clit again and relentlessly sucking, ready to get you to your peak. You feel it coming, your hips tightening, your back arching- and then suddenly it washes over you. 

You cry out, your thighs clamping together, holding him place. In response, he shakes his head, providing more than enough stimulation as you ride your high, lewd sounds coming from below as your orgasm washes over you leaving you limp. He places a gentle kiss to your clit and pulls out his fingers, shamelessly cleaning them off with his mouth. He smacks the outside of your thigh before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “C’mon. Can’t be late,” he chides, dipping his head down to tuck his shirt back in. 

TAGLIST: @reesetrippingthelight@samstopochico@jordierama@jakesgrapejuice @spark-my-nature@gvfcinema@fwzco

Part 5

[shy-nightmare]

The Toonz Twins: Toontown Sleuths

Chapter Ten: The Plan

Summary: The trio and their client make a quick stop at the Terminal Bar Station and come up with a plan.

Credit for inspiration goes to @imaginarytoon1, author of “The Birchwood Twins: Toontown Investigators” and @its-metal-mistress, author of “Bendy and the Ink Machine: Learning How to Live”. Please check out their own wonderful content ^^!

Special Guests Tags 😊: @marinerainbow, @slashingdisneypasta, @weaselnerd and @lastofautumn

Once the coast was clear, Eddie stuffed Roger in his trench coat and led the twins to the Terminal Bar Station. They tried getting the cuffs off with the tools he already had, but none of them seemed to work.

They walked up the stairs and entered the bar. It looked like a lot of the other bars the twins went to so late at night when they were little. On the right corner stood a pool table occupied by a couple of guys pushing the pool balls with their cue sticks, dimly lit by a small emerald lamp and the pool table stood nearby the Electric-Pacific vinyl lit up in neon red and white. The floors were kept in good condition, save for the traces of eggshells dropped by a drunken slumbering patron clad in a uniform. Polished jet-black round tables and chairs surrounded the cavern, and the interior walls were designed with pillar-curved alcoves holding photos and other memorabilia. At the center of the establishment occupied by the rest of the patrons stood the bar, designed with a massive geographical canvas of the Red Car routes. In short, it looked just like any other bar. The only thing missing was a TV.

“Dolores!” Eddie called out to the bartender, but his voice was muffled by the clamorous rumble of the Red Car trailway station next door. Twyla covered her sensitive ears to muffle the thunderous rattling and Eddie’s booming shout. “Dolores! DOLORES!”

A head popped up from the crowd, revealing Dolores the bartender. She was a tall, willowy blue-eyed lady with soft fair skin and a curly mass of chocolate hair styled in a Mary Beth cut. She wore a dark berry-blue sweetheart dress with short, puffed sleeves embellished with soft pink roses blossoming the outfit and a small red rose bloomed the center of her cleavage.

The barkeep walked over to Eddie and the twins behind a curtain in the back of the bar, playfully placing her hands on her hips. “So tell me, Eddie. Is that a rabbit in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she smirked.

Eddie grabbed her by the left arm, “Cut the comedy, Dolores. I’ve had a very hard day. I gotta get outta these cuffs.”

“Oh, swell.” Dolores muttered, turning on the light as soon as they were out of view. She twisted a small lit wall lamp, revealing a secret door. Eddie walked inside first, followed by Twyla. Tom followed Dolores and closed the door behind him as the bartender walked over to turn on the light. 

Roger shot out of Eddie’s jacket, gasping for oxygen, “Whew! Jeepers, Eddie! That almost killed me!”

Eddie must have bumped into a light. “Ow!”

Dolores finally switched on the light, revealing the secret room. It was small and narrow-spaced, but there was enough room to fit a bed and stocked shelves. There was another bar section nearby, though much smaller in size and covered in a layer of dust. A few shelves were stocked with various bottles, and as the twins inspected the room, they realized it was a rotgut room.

“Oh boy! What is this? Some kind of secret room?” Roger asked, looking around while Eddie still held him by the ears.

“It’s a rotgut room. Holdover from Prohibition,” Dolores explained.

“Oh, I get it! A speakeasy, a gin mill, a hooch parlor!”

“Tools are up here, Eddie,” Dolores said, reaching up to grab a toolbox with Eddie and Tom following. However, Roger noticed a small peephole above the bed.

“Look at this! It’s a spyhole!” he exclaimed and sprung up ahead towards the bed, which made the two humans tumble and fall towards each other and nearly ran Tom over. He cussed for that.

Twyla shook her head at Roger’s antics with amusement, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. She couldn’t help but think about the message left for her and had a pretty good guess on who wrote her that note.

Why would he write a note for me, one of his rivals, and tell me to drop the case? She furrowed her brows thoughtfully. There’s only one possibility. He knows something about the case of Marvin Acme, and he doesn’t want us to get involved.

“I thought you said you’d never take another Toon case!” Dolores’s voice cut her off, and Twyla was brought back to see the two and Roger near the bar. “What’d you have, a change of heart?”

Never take another Toon case? Twyla arched her brow, and shared a confused glance with her brother who was on the floor gingerly rubbing his head. What is she talking about?

“Nothing’s changed!” Eddie replied, grabbing Roger’s ears, “Somebody’s made a patsy out of me and I’m gonna find out why!”

He bumped into the light again before taking a seat on the bed in front of a wooden crate and pulled out a bone saw. He set his handcuffed wrist down and began sawing with Roger standing beside him. The box wobbled along with Eddie’s movements.

“Hold still, will ya?” he barked at Roger.

The Toon rabbit glanced at the human detective, then the handcuffs…and slipped his hand out before holding the box down. The twins gaped at him, jaw-slacked in shock.

“Does this help?” he asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” Eddie replied and continued to saw the handcuffs before he realized what Roger had done. He slammed the bone saw down. If looks could kill, Roger would be buried six feet under. The accused murderer must have realized his fatal error and tried to ease the investigator’s wrath by slipping the cuff back on his wrist while smiling at him nervously. He knew he was in deep shit.

“Do you mean to tell me that you could’ve taken your hand out of that cuff at any time?!” Eddie exclaimed with fury.

“No, not at any time.” Roger answered, “Only when it was funny.”

“‘Only when it was funny’?!” Tom shouted as Eddie yelled “Get out!”. Roger leapt away from his demise with a panicked “P-b-b-b” and took shelter at the spinning chair behind the bar near Dolores…while keeping a great distance from the snarling Toon gunslinger.

“C’mon, Eddie! Where’s your sense of humor?” he asked, smiling as he spun around.

“Is he always this funny or on days he’s wanted for murder?” Dolores asked dryly, grabbing the swinging light.

“Listen, my philosophy is this: if you don’t have a good sense of humor, you’re better off dead!” Roger lightly swung his gloved fist for emphasis.

“Jesus, that’s fuckin’ morbid hearing that from you,” Tom arched a brow at his new client from hearing that. Even Twyla was not expecting that.

“You may just get your wish unless I can figure out what happened to this!” Eddie growled as he tossed a folded-up piece of paper, which was caught by Dolores.

“What is it, Eddie?” Roger asked, he and the twins gathered behind Dolores who opened it up.

“Just look at it.” The twins squinted their eyes, noticing the will in the dead gag king’s pocket. So it is about the will, Tom rubbed his chin.    

“Mr. Acme’s will,” Roger clarified.

“Yeah. And I think Maroon played the role of sound mind and your wife the sound body.” Eddie directed his statement to Roger as he continued to saw his restraints.

“Why, I resent that innuendo!” Roger shouted, waving around a hammer before Dolores quickly took it away. Probably for the best.

“So what’s the scheme, Eddie?” she asked.

“I don’t think they got to the will,” Eddie concluded.

“But how do you know?”

“Because they were still looking for it after Acme was killed,” Twyla spoke for the first time since she came to the bar. Dolores cast her a surprised glance, but thankfully didn’t comment on that.

“She’s right,” Tom nodded, “Most murder cases are committed if the killer is after their victim’s will. And Acme did have a will, but we don’t know where the hell it is.” He trailed back to the first day he and his sister arrived in the city, to where they met R.K. Maroon and how he paired them with Valiant to get dirt on Jessica so her husband could focus on his job. It’s a common occurrence that human employers pulled this kind of shit on their Toon employees while they’re under contract. These incidents have to do with greed for money or power and control of the Toon’s productivity in their boss’s establishment due to their “loony nature” and the endless rivalry with other businesses. And this is the `40s, where human animators did whatever they did to the Toons they’ve created or hired because they owned them.

But this is about more than just employment or money. Baby Herman said that Acme promised to leave Toontown to them. Maroon is Roger’s employer. And he was desperate for the dirt on Acme and the rabbit’s wife. It hit Tom faster than a Mack Truck, and the realization made him growl lowly, “This is about ownership over Toontown.”

Eddie nodded in silent agreement.

Ownership? Twyla’s ears lowered, furrowing her brows thoughtfully hearing Tom’s theory. She did remember learning about this in history class during her junior year and saw these cases herself as a vigilante, but those cases uncovered blackmail and extortion Toon employees have the unfortunate experience of going through while working in human-populated businesses. Discrimination towards Toons was just as outrageous in workplaces as well as in educational institutions, but it was also common. Human employers and co-workers would often blackmail the poor Toons to work overtime to the point of extreme burnout and suffering from severe health issues because they were assumed for their flexibility and “immortality”. The Toons couldn’t refuse if they were promised “better wages”, or something that was so important to them they wouldn’t dare to pass the “opportunity”.

“Tommy,” she spoke softly, which caught her brother’s attention. The ravenette gently pulled Tom to the far corner of the rotgut, far from the other three’s earshot. “Do you think Jessica might have been blackmailed to cheat on Roger?” she asked. When he raised a brow in confusion, Twyla elaborated. “Human employers would often do whatever the fuck they wanted with their Toon employees because they believed they could own them, and this is the `40s.”

“And…” she cast the others a quick glance before whispering in a voice so soft it was barely audible, “Didn’t the human employees try to…y’know, blackmail Dad?”

Tom’s eyes widened when he caught on to what she meant. “Oh, hell no,” he shook his head, struggling to keep his voice quiet. “They wouldn’t even have the BALLS to blackmail a former Toon assassin turned crime boss if they’ve heard about the THINGS he’s done. But I understand your point in all of this.”

He continued, “However, I wouldn’t be surprised if his “creators” blackmailed him. He worked in a highly confidential, covert profession where blackmail and extortion were a common factor, and because he was a Toon they imprisoned, it would be a death wish for Toons of that profession to back out from a contract they were literally drawn to.”

Unbeknownst to the twins, Roger and the two humans caught a few words of their private conversation. Roger’s eyes widened in horror from the words “blackmailed” and “death wish” while Eddie and Dolores shared a confused glance. “Dad? Covert?” Eddie turned to his unsuspecting employees, “Blackmailed?”       

“Anything I can do?” Dolores asked Eddie, changing the subject before the twins would catch them listening.

“Maybe you could go downtown and check the probate.”

“Yeah, check the probate!” Roger agreed, “Why, my Uncle Thumper had a problem with his probate! And he had to take these big pills, and drink lots of water!”

All four looked at him weirdly. “Not prostate, you idiot! Probate!”

“Let me get this straight! You think that my boss, R.K. Maroon, dropped a safe on Marvin Acme’s head,” Roger pointed at his head, “So he could get his hands on Toontown?”

“Yeah,” Eddie grunted as he finally broke the cuffs. “That’s my hunch!”

He got up and grabbed his coat, “Uh, could he stay here for a couple of days?”

Dolores glanced at Roger, who was rubbing a real-life nail file through his ears. “He’s not going to do anything crazy, is he?” she asked.

“This is the only safe place he has for now,” Tom responded, and Twyla nodded in agreement. “We’ll come back to check on him later. Right now, we gotta move and find the will.”

“Right.” Eddie nodded. “We’ll take a little trip back to the Ink & Paint Club after it closes, and hunt down for clues and maybe the will.”

“We?” Dolores arched a brow, glancing between Eddie and the twins.

Tom picked that up and turned to his boss, “You didn’t tell her?”

Eddie sighed exasperatedly, then introduced Dolores. “Dolores, my assistants the twins Twyla and Tom Toonz. Twyla and Tom, Dolores.”

“Ma’am,” Tom tipped his hat politely while Twyla tilted her chin up in greeting.

“Assistants?” Dolores said, giving the two the once-over. She seemed to be a little surprised, but there was no bitterness in her voice. She cast a glance at Eddie, “You’re working with Toons on another Toon’s case?”

“Blame Maroon and the baby,” Eddie muttered, ignoring the twins’ glares. “And it’s a limited partnership.”

“Esseri umani,” Tom muttered in Italian, but Eddie didn’t catch that.            

“Let’s go.” He jerked his head towards the door as he walked past the twins.

They both exhaled a sigh and followed their boss.

_______

The trio walked in the same alley where they took the pictures once the club closed. They agreed to wait until all the customers and staff left, including a certain bouncer who kindly escorted them out.

Eddie placed his hat on the window of Jessica’s dressing room. He smashed his fist into his hat hard enough to break the window without getting glass on him, shattering it into pieces. “You ready?” he whispered to the twins, and they nodded.

Tom climbed through the window first and rid the floor of any remnants of glass before he offered Twyla his hand. He helped his sister sneak into the dressing room, then they both cleared the way for Eddie. He climbed his way through the window, but he clumsily tumbled over. So much for a professional breaking and entering.

He got up on his feet, dusting himself off for any shards of glass. “All right,” he put his fedora back on. “Let’s scoop the place.”

The twins followed him to the door. Eddie turned the doorknob and opened the door…

…only to come face-to-face with a growling Bongo.

“Oh, no,” Eddie mumbled.

Tom bared his teeth and pushed his sister behind him. But just as he dug into his coat, the gorilla’s massive fist punched the Rubberhose gangster in the face.

Everything went black.

[ghost-proofbaby]

congrats on 1k!!! 💙💙🌻🌻 I would like to request Eddie and my favorite song of the moment which is 'House Song' by Searows. it's kinda sad but cozy, so feel free to go easy on my heart and not write it angsty. or do. 😭🥰

thank you bluey <3 oh my word, this is my first time hearing this song and it is so terribly cozy and yet so sad in such a familiar way. i chose to focus on the lyric "something inside of me is rotten, i have to find it and cut it out", and also was inspired by the line from Euripides in which Orestes says "it's rotten work." and Pylades replies "not to me. not if it's you."

also, totally unrelated, but if i could lock this piece away in my soul until my days end, i would. i got way too carried away and made a fool of myself i fear.

warnings: none except bad writing and me taking a metaphor too far as i tried too hard though be warned this one is in third person rather than second to switch it up!!!

1k celebration - come party with me!

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People do not make good homes.

It is a hard lesson Eddie has had to learn in his twenty three years of life. 

Wide, innocent eyes are not open windows with billowing curtains. Caressing limbs are not bed sheets to wrap you up on wintry mornings. Pursed lips are not crackling speakers bleeding out familiar tunes as a record turns against a needle. Soft kisses aren’t the scent of clean laundry, tired yawns aren’t creaks from the attic, and ribs are not enough to build up the four walls to make a home. 

It happens every time; Eddie lets someone in, he opens himself up and lets the vulnerability drip from him in waves, until the fatal day comes in which suddenly the front door is closed on him, never to open again. The locks have been changed, the windows have been slammed shut, the sheets have been tucked under mattresses to grow cold. All the familiar, comforting old vinyls lay to rest and gather dust in a crate in the corner of abandoned rooms. 

People do not make good homes. He has come to accept this. Until she came along. 

Maybe her soft eyes weren't open windows to let in a summer’s breeze, but he swore he could still see the sun pouring in through their freshly painted panes. Maybe her steady arms weren’t clean sheets from the dryer, but they still blanket him in warmth all the same when they’d wrap their way around his waist. Whenever she’d open her mouth and give him a glimpse into her mind, it didn’t sound like his uncle’s old albums. It was something new, an unfamiliar melody he could neither tune out nor hum along to. She was a labyrinth of possibilities, a new shiny two-story house with the picket white fence. Bare feet against wooden floors that didn’t creak with protest, shimmering light fixtures that didn’t flicker with uncertainty, a front door swung wide open as if to say, come in. Make yourself at home. 

And when he made no move to come inside, when he stayed planted in the pristine front yard clear of weeds and verdant with hope, she had simply left the porch light on for him. She shut the door, but she never turned the lock. A reassurance that her offer still stood, in soft smiles and understanding nods, until he was ready. 

People should not make good homes. But then again, people like her existed. 

Eddie kept up the battle long enough. But eventually, the war inside his mind had raged long enough, and he walked up those front porch steps. He reached out for the unlocked door, and it was a breath of relief when it opened for him with a gentle click. She never locked him out. She had kept her promise of an offer. And when he finally arrived in the entryway, when he finally breached the threshold, she was waiting there, eager and gentle and beautiful, already reaching for his coat. She had been waiting. Always waiting, always patient. Just for him.

Her walls were fresh with paint, layering over any imperfections left behind by previous tenants. All scuff marks left by kitchen screaming matches had long been buffed out of mahogany boards. There are no ticks in door frames to account for the change of her height over the years, no frames of the ones before him she had let in. No signs of anyone having made her house a home before him. He couldn’t see her history in the way she could see his. Instead, he had to listen to it. Over cups of lukewarm coffee made just the way he likes it, over photo albums she describes that sit in a box in the attic, left to rot but never be forgotten. He learns of her past as she speaks of it as if it didn’t happen to her, as if it had been some movie she’d seen on late night television. And his heart aches. Because as she tells him all this, as she hands over a key to her heart and shows him how to unlatch her bay windows, he can see what her eyes beg of him. 

This has never been a home before. Please, make this house a home. Please.

But he’s terrified. His past is a conglomeration of abandoned cookie cutter homes, void of the warmth he feels beneath her surface. A doom town waiting for the atomic explosion. That’s what he is – the atomic explosion. He is the chaos and the destruction, the thing to burn down all that he holds sacred. It wasn’t hard to figure out; he had always been the common denominator in his own rotation of his own tenants. He’s terrified to add her home onto the end of the street, to lay in wait for the day he ruins all that they are. All that she is. 

But then she’s kissing him. She’s kissing him, and she’s holding him, and she’s reading her favorite books aloud to him in the afternoon lulls, and he can’t help but indulge. Because she’s home. She’s baked cookies and framed photos of better days. She’s hot chocolate and white Christmas mornings. She’s strong oak trees in the backyard and fresh cut flowers in the kitchen. 

People do not make good homes. But she is more than a metaphor.

The key to her hangs heavy on his keyring, but it is worth the weight on nights like tonight. Nights where he watches the rise and fall of her chest as her cheeks presses to his bare shoulder, her hand still curled around his even in her sleep. She loves him, she waits for him, she makes him feel more at home than anyone has in his twenty three years of life. Even after she had discovered the rot deep inside of him, she stayed and persisted as she digs it out and places down new baseboards, prepared to stand by his side as he makes the necessary renovations to himself that have been years in the making. She’s everything to him. She’s his home, his past be damned. 

People do not always make good homes. They are nothing more than houses, and just because the lights are on in the windows does not mean they are meant to be the place you lay your head to rest. They do not come prefilled with the love and warmth that is needed to be good homes. It is a process, aching and terrible and hard enough work that most people will not bother. But with her in his arms, Eddie thinks he is finally learning what it means to make a house a home. 

It was never about him making her house a home. It was about him finding home in himself, with her picture on his bedside table and her breath on his neck as she rests easy beside him. This lesson, as it turns out, wasn’t quite as hard to learn.