#just finished finals today and was finally able to finish the text n coloring

[prayantis]

“Tag team”

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[okay-j-hannah]

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, bloody wounds, intense drunken flirting, heart conditions, health problems, lightheadedness, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend

Part 3: Blue Handprints {You Are Here}

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Mr. Harris walks down the aisle of students, having just given his sentiments to Jackson Whittemore. “Everyone, start reading chapter nine.” He makes his way to the chalkboard, “Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s chemistry, not a coloring book.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, blowing the yellow lid from his lips and catching it easily in his hand. Instead, he turns to the phone in his pocket, sliding it out to peer at any new messages. He frowns – there were none.

Bouncing his foot on the bar stool, Stiles huffs before leaning towards the fellow lacrosse player in front of him. “Hey, Danny. Can I ask you a question?”

“No,” was his immediate reply.

“Well, I’m going to anyway. You have homeroom with (Y/N), right?”

Danny sighs, trying to read his chemistry chapter. “Yeah, what about it?”

Stiles leans closer, “Was she in class today?”

“No.”

“Has anybody been talking about what happened at the video store last night?”

“Listen, I’m sorry your little girlfriend hasn’t been texting you…”

Stiles’ stool squeaks as he fidgets, “She’s not actually my…”

“… but I’m not the one to look to next. Shouldn’t you be asking Scott?”

“What do you mean girlfriend?”

Danny grips the sides of his textbook with his fingertips, “Just some things I’ve heard on the lacrosse field when she’s there.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles was leaning so far forward that he suddenly found himself falling to the tile floor.

“To the principal’s office, Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris says in a loud, firm voice. “Don’t forget your highlighter. You can finish coloring the rest of the textbook in detention.”

Stiles wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and besides Mr. Harris didn’t give him a detention slip. This meant that he could sneak out and spend the remaining minutes of the period goofing off.

Or trying to contact one of his friends.

He dials Scott’s number as he leaves class and makes for the parking lot, “Scott! Finally, have you been getting any of my texts?”

“Yeah, like all nine million of them.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Stiles steps into the sunshine and shades his eyes with a hand. “Lydia’s totally MIA. Jackson looks like he’s got a time bomb inserted into his face, another random guy’s dead. And (Y/N) was mauled last night and had to go to the hospital. You have to do something about it!”

Scott was mumbling, “Like what?”

“Something!” Stiles jogs towards his car, hoping to escape any patrolling school staff.

“Okay, I’ll deal with it later.”

Stiles shoves his phone in his pocket as the line went dead. If Scott wasn’t going to help him, then the next best thing was to visit you. While you also weren’t answering his texts, he figures the reason is because of your parents.

After some rest, maybe you are stable enough to answer some questions.

He’s able to sneak his jeep out of the parking lot without any witnesses. The drive to your house is becoming more routine, and he finds it easily. Without even thinking about it, he went to the front door.

It opens to reveal Angela Westbrook. “Oh!” she says with wide eyes, “Stiles Stilinski?”

“Yeah,” he says awkwardly, pointing finger guns at her, “Front desk Westbrook.”

“You haven’t gotten in any trouble have you? You’re supposed to be at school.”

Stiles furrows his brow, “What? No. I’m… I’m here to see (Y/N).”

Angela looks curious, “(Y/N)? I hadn’t realized you two were friends.”

“I was at the video store with her last night.” Stiles tries not to take offense.

“You saw what happened?” she asks, instantly frantic.

Stiles waves his hands around, “No! No, she called me, and I went to help with my dad.”

“She called you first?” It was Angela’s turn to try not to take offense.

“Yeah, my dad pulled me away before you guys showed up.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “So… I can see her?”

Angela puts a smile on her face, “Of course. But not for too long. She still needs her rest.”

He nods, walking inside for the first time. He took note of the piano in the living room, the family pictures on the mantelpiece, and the sound of a little jingle bell. It was coming from the collar of a large gray cat following them up the stairs.

“You have a cat?”

Angela gave a breathy laugh, “He’s (Y/N)’s. She needed a… well, a friend while being homeschooled, I guess.”

Stiles bangs his shoulder into the wall trying to watch the cat follow them. Angela knocks on your door, “(Y/N), sweetie – there’s a Stiles here to see you.”

You were sitting in bed, reading a book and warming your feet underneath a blanket. “Hey, Stiles!”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Angela says with a smile, clasping her hands together. “Just… no funny business.”

“Mom…” you say quietly. “Just leave the door open.”

Once your mom leaves, the cat jumps onto the bed and puts his front paws on your thigh, raising himself to get a pet on the head. He was large with fluffy gray fur and big blue eyes.

Stiles walks over, playing with his fingers. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you sigh, scratching the cat behind the ears, “I’ve been a little on edge.”

He observes your face with his investigative eyes. Your skin was dull, a blue tinge beneath your eyes, even your lips look a little off color. He lingers on that last detail longer than he should.

“How was the hospital?”

“The usual,” you run your fingers down the cats back and up the tail. “Any more stress and I’ll get more bodily damage. I’ll be bed bound… blah, blah, blah.”

Stiles swallows hard, “I think that blah sounds pretty important.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard my whole life,” you wave him off. “How are Lydia and Jackson?”

“Lydia is home and Jackson came to school, although I’m pretty sure he needs to be put in a coma to sleep off his pent up feelings.”

You smile grimly, “Understandable.”

Stiles scratches his shaved head, unsure of how to ask about the video store but knowing he’d have to be careful. He chooses to sit on the bed across from you, crossing his legs and licking his lips. “So… uh – what’s his name?” he points to the cat.

“Oliver,” you smile, “Sometimes I call him Ollie.” The cat was purring against your hand, whiskers perked. “I’ve had him for a couple years. He’s my best friend.”

“That’s what your mom was saying,” he says, watching the cat keep his fluffy tail in the air. Blue eyes found him sitting on the mattress.

You grimace, “Sorry about that. My mom can be…”

“She’s great,” he says quickly. “I thought you slept a little last night.”

“I did,” you say, “Thanks to you.”

The back of his neck suddenly feels hot, “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“The thing every girl wants to hear,” you smile. “Like I said, the hospital wasn’t happy with me.”

“(Y/N), I’ve been doing some research…” Stiles picks at his fingers again. “And you saying there’s something wrong with your heart; and the surgery scar you have…”

You run a delicate finger up the bridge of Ollie’s nose. He closes his eyes and pushes his head into your finger. “I knew you’d do that.”

Stiles licks his lips again, mouth dry, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” you sigh, “What did you find out?”

“I think you have some kind of tachycardia,” he looks at you with soft eyes, his eyelashes framing them. “That’s something that would make you faint and could weaken your heart if it happens too often. I’m not sure what the surgery was though… I’m assuming it was to stop your heart from getting too weak.”

The room felt heavy, but it was a comfortable heaviness, as in you weren’t afraid to talk to Stiles. “You would be right,” you nod, “I was born with a heart defect. It was an atrioventricular canal defect. It means there was a hole in the wall between my heart chambers. The hole made it so blood flow wasn’t controlled well. I had a surgery to fix it.”

“Just last summer?”

“One of them, yeah.” You smile at him like he knew you were still hiding things. “This is a deep conversation for another day, Stiles.”

“But…” he presses on, leaning forward, “If you fixed the heart defect, you shouldn’t have any heart problems now, right?”

You shrug, “Things happen.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything else today, are you?”

“You got my one personal thing of the day. You know I had a congenital heart defect and now I have ventricular tachycardia.” Scratching under Oliver’s chin, you sigh, “I’m sure you’ll do more research on that later.”

Ollie continues to purr and put Stiles in his line of sight. With soft paws, he walks across the covers and perches on Stiles’ knee.

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do, his hands shooting into the air.

“He doesn’t bite,” you laugh, “He just wants a pet.”

Oliver’s tail swishes around the covers, and Stiles lowers a hand. The cat rubs the top of his head into the palm. “He’s so soft.”

You rub your arms, “He’s a great judge of character.”

“(Y/N), the other thing I wanted to ask…” Stiles continues to pet the cat, enjoying the purring immensely. “… was about last night.” He doesn’t like the way you gulp. “What happened?”

“Well, Arnett decided not to show up,” you shrug, “Big surprise. Still hurt though.”

Stiles mutters something that sounds a lot like, “Piece of shit.”

You retell the events leading to the lights flickering on and off over the dead store manager. “Then there was this growling. Like an animal.” A waver enters your voice and goosebumps blossom on your bare arms.

Oliver senses your change of mood and returns to your side, nuzzling your knee.

“I only got a few seconds to look before…” you gesture to the bandages on your left shoulder, “It was some kind of… wolf.” Your watch lit up with a reading from your heart. The rate was rising exponentially.

“Okay,” Stiles says, scooting closer, “That’s good. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Did your dad say anything about it? Were they able to catch whatever it was?”

He sighs, “No. We haven’t found anything. They think it was just a wild animal attack.” He was itching to touch you again, hold your hand and calm you down again. He wanted to protect your heart. “You’re safe here. You have Ollie to protect you.”

That made you smile, and Stiles took great pride in that.

“Did you wish Allison a happy birthday before skipping school?”

Stiles watches your heart rate lower on your watch screen, “I didn’t know it was her birthday.”

“It was kind of a secret,” you pick up Ollie, resting your face against his head. “Lydia and I decorated her locker yesterday after school.”

Stiles smacks his forehead, “That’s where Scott is! That idiot probably took her out for her birthday. No wonder he’s been avoiding my texts.”

There was another knock on the door, “Sweetie, it’s time to change your bandages.” Your mom was there with fresh cloth and something antibiotic.

“I can do it,” Stiles says, “(Y/N) can tell me what to do.” He rolls off the bed, tripping over his ankle as he stands straight.

Angela raises her eyebrows at you, but you nod. “Okay, but if you need help please call me. I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

Stiles awkwardly took the supplies from your mom, mouthing a thank you before returning to the bed. “You’re really going to have to help me with this one.”

You grimace, “It’s not going to be pretty.” You pull an arm out of your pajama top to reveal a tank top underneath, one strap hanging off the large white bandages on your shoulder. Stiles flexes his fingers.

“I should wash my hands probably.”

“I have hand sanitizer in my nightstand,” you giggle, already starting to pick the medical tape off the edge of the bandage.

He cleans his hands, helping you remove the bandage. You hiss as he lifts it from the wound, blood weeping from the gashes. Stiles has to stifle a groan of disgust.

“God,” he mumbles, “It still looks so fresh.”

You suck in your lips, amused by his expression, “I didn’t realize you were so queasy around blood.”

“It’s not that,” he threw the old bandage in the garbage. “It’s just it’s… you. I hate seeing you with this.” He looks closer at the claw marks, taking some gauze and catching some pinkish fluid seeping out.

You fidget as he touches the red, irritated skin under the wound. “It still hurts a lot.”

“It’s still bleeding and… wet,” Stiles frowns.

“It’s called serous drainage,” you laugh at his look of shock, “It’s a normal part of the healing process. But too much can be a sign of infection.”

“It might be infected,” Stiles says immediately. “This is a lot.”

You wave him off with your other hand, “We’ll wait to see if I have a fever.”

“Just saying, it would explain why you look like a dead man walking.”

“You’re just full of compliments today, aren’t you?” But you were smiling as you say it.

~~~

A few days later Stiles was sitting in his morning English class, staring at the seat that you normally occupy. He was flipping his phone around his fingers, waiting for your next reply.

He was angry and biting the inside of his cheeks.

“It’s not his fault,” you text.

“He bailed on the date night, and you end up getting mauled. And then he bails on conferences and my dad gets hit by a car. Tell me again how he’s not a shitty friend?”

You take a minute to answer, “Those were all accidents. You can’t prove Scott being there could’ve stopped anything.”

“Yeah, it still would’ve been nice to have him be there.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t of.”

Stiles knits his brow at your message. “You’re hurt. I’m not upset about you not being at conferences. Besides with your luck that mountain lion would’ve went for you.”

“You still don’t think it was the same animal from the video store?”

“I trust you. If you say it was a wolf, then it was a wolf.”

Scott comes walking into class, sheepish in how he sits behind Stiles. Shoulders tense, Stiles sits resolutely forward, closing his phone and avoiding his best friend. Scott sighs, frustrated at more than just himself.

“Can you at least tell me if your dad’s okay? I mean, it’s just a bruise, right?” He was grasping at straws, “Some soft tissue damage?”

Stiles was running his tongue along the bite marks inside his cheeks.

“You know I feel really bad about it, right?” Folding his arms, Scott tries to explain himself, “Okay, what if I told you I’m trying to figure this whole thing out, and that I went to Derek for help?”

Stiles stops his eye twitching to grumble, “If I was talking to you, I’d say that you’re an idiot for trusting him. But obviously I’m not talking to you.”

As the bell rings, Stiles leans forward and contemplates the new development in Derek’s involvement. He stares at his phone lighting up with a new message from you, “Go easy on him.”

He grits his teeth, angry at his curiosity getting the best of him. He whips around, “I still haven’t forgiven you for not being there for (Y/N).”

“I get it,” Scott looks hopeful. “I really do.”

“Lately she’s been there for me more than you have, which is saying something considering we used be connected at the hip. I get this werewolf thing happened and then Allison and now a Derek/Alpha thing… but you don’t just abandon your friends. If anything you should be closer to them when things get hard.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Scott mutters, “I’ll stop by (Y/N)’s place and check on her, alright? I know she deserves better… and that she means a lot to you.”

Stiles sighs heavily through his nose, drumming his fingers on the back of his chair. “Okay. What did Derek say?”

Throughout the day Stiles concocted a plan to help Scott with his anger issues. He spent classes thinking about heart rates and helping Scott avoid Allison as much as possible. After spending a quick minute in Coach’s office, they met outside on the lacrosse field.

“Okay,” he pulls out a heart rate monitor, “Put this on.”

Scott grabs it, “Isn’t this for the track team?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it,” Stiles says.

“Stole it.”

Offended, Stiles set his tone, “Temporarily misappropriated. Listen, I got the idea from (Y/N). She measures her heart rate through her watch, and it sends her readings through her phone. It’s easy to connect through a health app. And you’re gonna wear that monitor for the rest of the day.”

“And it’s connected to your phone?” Scott says, putting the monitor on.

He pulls out his phone and went to the health app, “Yeah, you know your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you’re playing lacrosse, when you’re with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate.” He shows Scott his screen, “See?”

There were two different heart rates being monitored on the screen. One being Scott’s and the other one being…

“Are you watching your own heart rate?” Scott asks, “Who’s that one?”

“I don’t know, doesn’t matter.” Clearly having messed up, Stiles shoves his phone in his pocket and starts riffling through his duffel bag of supplies.

Scott has a smirk on his face, “It’s (Y/N)’s heart rate, isn’t it.”

“Shut up.”

~~~

After a quick getaway from another heart rate experiment, and a few cuts and bruises for Scott, the pair of them drove to your house for an apologetic visit.

“Dude, you got to wipe all that blood off,” Stiles says, “You look like a murder victim.”

“It’ll stop in a second. I’ll heal no problem.”

“Let’s hope her parents are still at work.”

In front of your house, Scott wipes his nose, hoping you wouldn’t notice too much. The injuries were already healed, it was just the leftover blood that he needed to wash off.

It took a few minutes for anyone to answer, and Stiles checks his phone. Your heart rate is slightly elevated.

The door opens slowly, and everyone has a gasping reaction.

“Oh my god, Scott,” you say in a shallow voice, “Why are you covered in blood?”

Stiles’ mouth was gaping as Scott fumbles for words to say, “Uh, I might’ve gotten in a fight at school. Someone got a bloody nose and… I got it on me.”

If Stiles thought you looked like a dead man walking a few days ago, he didn’t realize how worse you would look today. That bluish tinge to your under eyes was deep and the purple of your lips was like looking at a corpse. Your ashy skin was speckled with sweat around your temples. You look sick… really sick.

“(Y/N)…” Stiles says, hands starting to tremble as he reaches for the door, “What…”

“Let me get you another shirt,” you say tiredly, backing away from the door. “My dad has some old Saturday t-shirts in the laundry room.”

“Are your parents here?” Scott asks, following you and Stiles inside. A quick sound check told him that they were the only ones home.

You sound as though it was hard to breathe, “They’re still at work. I convinced my mom to take her evening shift today. She’s been staying home all week because of me.”

The sight of you shuffling side to side, tank top and shorts on under a robe – the robe tie dragging on the ground – hair falling out of a wild bun… it was disheartening. What was wrong with you?

Scott could smell something. Something sickly. “I don’t need another shirt, (Y/N), really. I just wanted to check on you.”

You turn around in the hallway, ghostly in the dimly lit space. “Oh? That’s kind of you.”

“I know I’ve been kind of distant,” he continues, eyeing the worry enveloping Stiles. “And I want to change that. Life has been chaotic, but I want to make time to see you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, “But I’ve been in good hands.”

“Clearly not good enough,” Stiles says, “When was the last time you changed your bandages, (Y/N)?”

You shrug and then grimace at the movement, “Sometime yesterday.” You were swaying on your feet and Stiles took a step forward, prepared to catch you.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” he says calmly, “Let’s sit down.” He guides you to a dining chair while directing Scott to check the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. “You don’t look so good.”

“So you keep telling me, Stiles,” you smile again, “You need to work on those compliments.” You struggle to pull your arm out of the robe sleeve.

“Here, let me.”

While he pulls out your arm, apologizing for causing any discomfort, he mumbles things to distract you as he takes off the bandage. “I like your pajamas.”

White fabric with little lemons and mint leaves printed on them, along with a robe of fuzzy summer fruits. It was just so you. If only he could still smell that wonderful fruity shampoo from your hair.

“Thank you,” you groan as he removes the bandage painfully.

“Oh my god,” he chokes.

The wound underneath was red and aggravated. It was still weeping blood and whatever fluid you had mentioned before. The center of each deep claw mark had a purple-blue color, and he didn’t like how venomous it looked.

Scott appears beside you, following that sickly scent to your shoulder. It smelt worse than infection, it had a familiar tang to it. Something wolfish about it. That terrifies him. “I’m going to call Derek.”

“What?” you and Stiles say at the same time.

“I have a feeling he’ll know what to do,” he eyes Stiles, pulling out his phone, “Don’t bandage it until he looks at it.”

“Is something wrong?” you say feverishly, looking at Stiles with half-closed eyes. He chooses to focus on your face instead of your wound. But his eyes were no longer a honey brown or an amber whiskey.

They were steely like fossilized tree sap.

“I think you just need some extra strength Tylenol,” he jokes, “Or a rabies shot.”

“God, my mom is never going to let me leave the house again if I don’t stop getting sick.” You hang your head, sweat speckling the back of your neck too. Stiles gingerly puts a hand to your back and rubs up and down your spine.

“You’ll get better, I promise.”

“You’re such a liar,” you cough, “I’m not going to get better. This is what it’ll be… just worse and worse.”

Stiles didn’t like the hurt that was developing in his chest. That inflation feeling in his ribcage came full force but was threaded with hurt. It hurt to see you like this.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nonsense,” you say with sorrow, “Don’t listen to me. I’m sick.”

Scott returns with determination in his step, “Derek’s almost here.” He kneels beside your chair, a hand on your good arm. “This is my fault. If I was there for you then this…”

“It’s not your fault, Scott. It’s not a crime to not want to third wheel.”

“What do you smell?” Stiles whispers under his breath. You have a difficult time concentrating enough to hear him.

Scott mutters something back, “Nothing good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

Derek comes walking into the house, “This isn’t something the hospital can fix.” His nose crinkles at your exposed arm. “She was clawed by the alpha, right?”

Stiles waves a frantic hand, shushing him while Scott mouths at him to shut up.

“You guys are idiots.” Derek looks angry, “You haven’t told her anything yet?”

“Told me what?” you lift your heavy head. “Derek?”

The boys pull Derek aside and quickly whisper a conversation.

“Did the alpha do something to her?” Scott asks worriedly. He’d feel even worse if your injury was a result of his werewolf business.

Derek folds his massive arms, “If an alpha scratches a human and it makes a deep enough cut, the werewolf change could happen.”

Stiles chokes on his breath, “You mean she could be transforming!?”

“It doesn’t have to be a bite?” Scott whisper shouts.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Stiles pulls at the ends of his shaved hair. “Why is it making her so sick.”

Derek sighs heavily, “Because her body is rejecting the change. It’s trying to fight off the spread of infection. It’s impressive really.”

“You mean she might be fine?” Scott asks, “She’ll get over it?”

“Maybe,” Derek shrugs, “It could just kill her.”

Stiles swallows thickly, “Tell us how to help her.”

“You just have to let the infection run its course. There aren’t any werewolf antibiotics out there for a wound like that. Tell her to sleep it off.”

“Sleep it off?” Stiles says incredulously. “That’s the best you got?”

“I have other pressing matters. Including a meeting with your boss, Scott.”

Scott took a pause, “What has my boss got to do with anything?”

“I’ll let you know when I finish interrogating him.” Subconsciously or not, Derek was flexing his arms in a way that made him look gigantic.

Scott wasn’t intimidated, “If you lay a hand on Deaton…”

“He’s already in the trunk,” Derek says blandly, “You interrupted my questioning before I could finish.”

“Oh my god,” Scott mumbles, chest tight with oncoming rage.

Stiles was flailing his arms around like they were limp noodles. “Hello! Did we forget the sick-because-of-alpha-claws girl right behind us. Let’s handle one problem at a time.”

Derek was already out the door, “(Y/N)’s fate isn’t my problem. And Deaton isn’t your concern.”

“It is considering he’s my boss!” Scott follows him outside.

“Alright, Scott, you want answers?” Derek spins around on the lawn, “Those spirals you’ve been asking about… it’s our sign for a vendetta. It’s revenge. It means he won’t stop killing until he’s satisfied!”

Scott gawks at him, “You think Deaton’s the alpha!?”

“We’re about to find out.”

“No! Derek, listen. There’s another way to draw out the alpha. I’m connected to him remember?” Scott sounds desperate and on the verge of growing claws. Stiles stands on the porch, anxious to keep you from hearing any of this. “I can try to get him to reveal himself.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Derek has a steely blue tinge in his eyes, almost as if they were glowing.

Scott looks around him, jerky in his head movements as he tries to create a plan, “Just give me an hour and then meet us at the school. I’ll call to the alpha and we’ll see if there’s a response.”

Derek, rippling with rage, seems to consider. In the next second he growls under his breath and goes to his car. Scott took that as he was in agreement with the new plan.

He turns around to see Stiles giving him a death glare, hands stuck under his armpits as if he’s stopping them from throwing punches.

“Are you forgetting about our teensy-weensy other problem, Scott? Maybe our other friend currently dying inside?”

“She’s not dying,” Scott says as he stomps toward the house again.

Stiles shoves his shoulder as he walks past, “I don’t feel right leaving (Y/N) here while we go tango with the alpha at the school.”

“We could call her mom,” Scott suggests, making his way back to the dining table.

“She’ll hate that,” Stiles mumbles, meeting him at your chair. He kneels beside you again, careful as you were dozing off. Leaning against the table, your chin rests in your hand – your mouth slightly open as you take small breaths.

Scott shrugs his shoulders, “Well, then who do we call? All our other friends are occupied with themselves.” It suddenly dawned on him that he was supposed to meet Allison for a study date. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Finally realized that did you?” Stiles says sarcastically, “Who else do we trust?”

“Someone from the lacrosse team?” Scott says with a wince, “She’s gotten close with a couple of the guys there.”

A flicker of red hot flame licks up Stiles’ side. “Sure, yeah – one of the potential lacrosse boyfriends.”

“Oh please, we could call Danny,” Scott waves him off. “Although Andrew Wickstrom would probably be more willing.”

Good guy Andrew Wickstrom? Stiles did not like that idea. Not because he was just another blockhead lacrosse guy… but because he was genuinely a nice guy. And the possibility of you falling for him was very high.

“He’s better than leaving her here alone,” Scott says, going through his phone. “At least until her parents get off work.”

Stiles curses him, but he agrees. He rests one of his hands on your good shoulder, “(Y/N), hey…”

You stir in your daze, “Where’s Derek?”

“He left, don’t worry,” was his reply. Licking his lips he starts to prepare fresh bandages for your shoulder. “Listen, Andrew is going to come look after you until your mom gets home.”

“Who?”

“Andrew Wickstrom? From the team,” Stiles says, trying to keep the disdain from his voice. “Scott and I need to handle something at the school. And you need to stay here and get some rest.”

He applies pressure on your shoulder with disinfected gauze and you gasp with pain.

“You just have a 24-hour bug,” he continues to distract you. “And in the morning you’ll be right as rain, I promise.”

“Again you’re such a liar,” you smile painfully.

He loves your humor. “I’ll come check on you when we’re done. Just don’t go falling in love with this guy, alright?”

You laugh, “No promises.”

~~~

You were cuddled on the couch, pulling up your favorite forest green blanket to your chin. You try to fix your hair bun, but it was still falling out in wavy strands. The television was set low, a true crime miniseries on.

Andrew returns to the living room, a gatorade in an iced glass with a straw. He went back to his spot on the ground, propped against the couch arm and near your head.

“Did I miss anything?” he lifts the glass over his shoulder and directs the straw between your lips.

You take a few sips, humming your thanks. “I think the husband did it.”

“But there was all that text evidence showing how the wife verbally abused him. I think he’s a scaredy cat.”

“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have lashed out and killed her.”

He grins, “You’re way into these true crime cases.”

“They’re interesting,” you snuggle further into the blanket, “And I like to see the medical side of things.”

“Can I check your fever?” he gropes under the pile of supplies Stiles had left them and found a thermometer. He brushes your wispy fly-aways into your bun and put the thermometer to your forehead. After it beeps he looks at it, “102.3, that’s a little high.”

“We don’t need the hospital until it’s 105.”

He got comfortable again, crossing his arms. “It’s weird. I hadn’t imagined the first time we hang out was going to involve playing nurse.”

“I appreciate it, really,” you say tiredly. “It’s nice of you to spend your night here. I’m pretty sure my parents would pay you like a babysitter too.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, dimples showing. “I don’t mind. I like this, spending time with you. Even if you are super sick.”

You giggle but end it in a cough. “You know I was kind of hoping you’d come talk to me at lacrosse practice.”

Andrew turns so he’s facing you cross legged on the ground, “No way.”

“A perk of TAing for Coach is that I get to watch all you handsome lacrosse players play,” you wink, “I might’ve had my eye on you a couple of times.”

“I’m flattered,” he grins back, “You were always surrounded by a crowd, and I wasn’t sure you wanted another guy forcing his way in.”

You prop your head up a little, “You wouldn’t have needed to force yourself in. I would’ve just welcomed you.”

He bows his head, brown curls hanging in coils. “I wish I would’ve figured that out sooner. Maybe our first night together would’ve had you feeling better.”

“No, this is better,” you smile, “This is more memorable.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I asked to see you again…” he rubs his hands awkwardly on his knees, “… outside of school.”

“Please!” you say, “I’m so sick of being stuck at my house. Any plans I can look forward to is a blessing.”

He fixes the edge of your blanket, pulling it up a few inches. “Then I’ll think of something really fun.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” he plays with his hair. It’s cute. “Maybe something with a bookstore.”

Your sunken eyes widen a bit. “How did you know I like to read?”

“It might’ve been the book you always have with you at school,” he laughs, “Or the time Coach yelled at you because you were reading in the bleachers instead of grabbing more helmets.”

“Well, if you’re buying then I won’t say no to a bookstore.”

Andrew grins, a beautiful smile with his curly hair and warm, green eyes. “It’s a date.”

~~~

“It’s a what?!” Stiles was whispering as loudly as he could.

You were sitting up in bed, limp and frail but with a little more life in your cheeks. “I think he asked me out on a date.”

Scott shut the window behind him, “That’s great, (Y/N).” You miss the pitying look he sent Stiles’ way.

“What did you say?” Stiles asks, sitting on the bed next to you.

You shrug, “I kind of just smiled and we kept watching the true crime.”

“Oh god,” Stiles grumbles, “You’re going to fall in love with him.” He watches a blush rise in your cheeks, “No… no – there’s no falling in love right now. You’re just getting over a fever.” He starts to fan your cheeks, making you laugh.

Scott pulls your desk chair over, “But you do feel better?”

“Completely – Andrew cured me!”

“It was that gatorade I left.”

You try to hide a smile, “Or it could’ve been the goodbye kiss.” Stiles jumps on the mattress, slamming the headboard into the wall. You smack his arm, “God, Stiles I was kidding. My fever just broke.”

“How did your parents take it?” Scott asks. He seems a little put out in comparison to earlier that day.

“My mom was really grateful.” You flicker your eyes between the pair of them. “So are you going to tell me what was going on with Derek visiting to check on my wound?”

“Oh, you know…” Scott says instantly. Stiles was flapping his gums like a fish out of water. “He’s seen animal attacks considering… his sister… was killed that way. He just said to sleep it off.”

You lean against the headboard, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Stiles. “Well, he was right.” The jumpiness in Scott’s fidgeting made you suspect some lying. It irks you to know that there were still secrets they were keeping from you. “Hey, I thought you and Allison had a study date. What business did you have at the school?”

“Um…” Scott was picking at his fingernails, “That’s where I decided to surprise Allison with our studying.”

Your brow knits, “But the school is closed and locked at night.”

Stiles has his hands running over his head, “Scott, the others are going to tell her what happened.”

“Meaning?” you nudge Stiles with your shoulder.

Scott was full of conflict, whipping his eyes between different spots in the room. “Derek told us of a hunch that led us to the school. He spotted that monster wolf you saw at the video store. Allison got a strange text that might’ve come from Derek too.” He looks to you with slight panic, “It told her to meet me at the school. She was with Lydia and Jackson, so they came too.”

“I crashed my car and everything trying to get away,” Stiles says, trying to cover all their assets.

“I missed quite the party,” you whisper, searching for tells of his lying in the words.

“We were chased and attacked. A janitor died. We weren’t sure if it was the wolf monster or Derek.”

You lean away from Stiles and he darts his head to you, “I thought Derek was innocent of everything.” An ache was in the pit of your stomach, it made you feel empty and distrustful. It was plain how much they were hiding from you.

Of course you were also being a hypocrite because you hadn’t told them everything either.

“There might be more evidence,” Scott tries to continue.

“Like what?” you fold your arms, “You have any proof?”

Stiles was piecing together you shrinking away from them, “Enough that we called my dad in on it.”

“You know, I’m tired,” you say, “I think you guys should go.”

The boys share a look, and you miss the worry enveloping Stiles’ face. He pulls his wide shoulders inward to avoid touching you.

“Sure,” Stiles says, “You’ve had a long day.”

“We’re glad you’re better,” Scott adds, standing to open the window again. “Hopefully you’re well enough for school on Monday.” He slides himself outside while Stiles stops at the sill.

He licks his lips, a habit of his especially when he’s thinking. “Hey, listen, I’m going to try to fix my jeep this weekend. If you’re free maybe we could do it together.” He wipes his hands along his pants, fidgety in how he was looking at the floor, then at you, then at the floor again. “It’s no problem if not.”

You nod but avoid looking at him as he slips out. You sit there with your peachy lamp on, upset and confused. You like Scott and Stiles. They were some of the first friends you made when you started public school. Stiles had been so attentive and gently nudged you to be more open.

But the achy feeling of emptiness in your stomach was becoming more prevalent. It had been an on and off feeling since getting to know the boys. Stiles had been swooping in to calm your nerves with small nuggets of truth.

A few more lies and you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore.

A couple of days later and fully recovered from your infectious fever, you eat lunch on Saturday afternoon. Your dad slides a BLT your way and sits down with his own.

He nibbles on a piece of bacon, “Any plans for your post sickness weekend?”

“Catch up on the homework Allison brought me,” you take a sip of soda, “And try not to kill Scott for hurting her.”

“Are they okay?” Tom asks.

You shake your head, “She broke up with him. He snapped at her when she was scared. Kind of a dick move.”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” you grimace, wiping the tired from your eyes. “I’m mad at him too.”

“What a dick,” he says, winking at you.

It makes you smile, “I know he means well. I think he’s just being a stupid teenage boy.”

“Having been a stupid teenage boy myself I can vouch for him.” He eats the larger pile of bacon on his plate, “What about that other boy that visited the other day?”

“Stiles?” you sigh, “I’m upset with him too. I think they’re hiding something from me.”

Both you and your dad say at the same time, “Stupid teenage boys.”

“But that Andrew is nice,” your mom enters the kitchen, gardening gloves in hand. “I like him.”

“You like that he was taking care of me,” you roll your eyes. “You know Scott and Stiles were here doing that same thing earlier that day.”

Angela went for the shoes she wore in the garden by the back door, “Do they know about your heart?”

“I told Stiles some things and he’s told our other friends,” you shrug, “Just about the heart defect and my tachycardia.”

Your parents nod – your dad finishing his lunch much faster than you, “That’s better than nothing. I feel better knowing you’re out with kids that can help you if you feel faint.”

Your mom leaves for the backyard and your dad goes to get you another can of soda.

“Maybe I’ll stop by Stiles’ place today.”

“The Sheriff’s house?” Tom says, “You must not be that upset with him.”

You stand, your heart stuttering, “Eh… I’ll let you know if I need a getaway driver.”

The walk to Stiles’ house was long but nice with the California sun out. Your skin soaks up the warmth, unstiffening your bones from the sickbed. The birds twitter past and trees shimmer their leaves above you.

If your mom knew you were walking such a long way, she would have given you house arrest. But you monitor your heart rate through your watch the whole way.

The house was a little shabby but homely. It screams ‘bachelor pad’ in more ways than one. The grass was trimmed, but the flowerbeds neglected. The BBQ was greasy with use and left out in the open. The house was tidy but nowhere near clean. The old décor was most likely remnant of Mrs. Stilinski, and the boys don’t dare change it.

Stiles was running out of the door, tripping down the steps when he saw you. “(Y/N)! You came.”

You nod, hands in your jean pockets, “I wanted to see the damage.”

The jeep was in the driveway, towed there the night of the school attack. The hood was laying on the concrete and completely smashed in.

Stiles jogs up to you and looks about ready to give you a hug, but you keep your arms down as a signal. He scratches at the back of his head instead.

“I just picked up a new hood from the junkyard. And my dad helped me buy a new battery.”

“What happened to the old one again?” you look inside the engine and see more duct tape than rubber tubes. “Do you usually fix this guy up yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles had a funny look on his face, hands on his hips, “It’s cheaper that way. When I hit the school sign it crushed the battery box. It needed to be fully replaced.”

You give him a side eye, “You hit the school sign?”

“I was in a hurry to escape, okay,” he says exasperated, throwing his arms down limp at his sides. He was always lanky and fidgety. “I have spray paint in the garage for the new hood.” He looks at you with a hesitant gaze, “Do you want to help?”

You fold your arms, trying to hide a smile. “Do you have a tarp for the paint?”

“Why would I need a tarp?”

A small laugh escapes you, “Your dad will thank me later. Come on.”

The pair of you lay an old blue tarp down and set the junkyard hood on it. You convince Stiles to sand the metal and prime it before the paint. Thankfully the jungle that was the garage held nearly all the equipment you needed.

“I think it’s funny you have the exact shade of blue you need for your jeep,” you say, shaking your head. “Makes me think you need to touch it up more often than not.”

“If you’re making some kind of assumption about my driving skills, you’re wrong. I happen to be an excellent driver.”

You shake the spray paint can, ready for last touchups, “Anyone is an excellent driver when they’re the only driver in the friend group.”

“Excuse me?” he says with mock offense, screwing his face up comically.

“You’re not exactly comparing your skills to Scott and me since we don’t have cars,” and in a moment of weakness you point the can towards Stiles.

“Hey, woah!” he held up his hands, getting a blast of blue paint on his palms and fingers. “Mayday! Mayday! Paint in mouth!”

You start laughing, shaking the can some more as Stiles spits at the grass. His hands and forearms were coated in shiny, dripping paint.

“Now you’re in for it.”

He ran at you, hands outstretched. You didn’t fight it much as you squeal at the cold wet paint. He hugs you from behind and starts rubbing his hands all down your sides and front, coating your arms and shirt.

He was careful to avoid your chest. “There, now we’re both a masterpiece.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, out of breath from your giggles. You raise a coated finger to his rosy cheek and write your initials, “There. An artist always signs their work.”

He blows out a choking breath, shivers prickling the back of his neck. He has to clear his throat before doing the same to you, raising a long finger to your cheek. A double ‘s’ is painted along your cheekbone, beneath your sparkling eyes.

“Should we put the battery in while the paint dries?” you were closer than you thought, just inches between you. You could have sworn Stiles flickers his eyes down to your lips, no doubt smeared with paint.

“S-Sure,” he stutters, wiping at his nose, “It’s right over here.”

You help lift the heavy black box and slide it into the car. You giggle at the blue handprints all over the battery sides.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get a wet rag.”

“No!” Stiles grabs your arm, “I like it. Let’s let it dry. Our signature touch.”

You look at your handprint on the top and Stiles’ on the side below yours. “Whatever you want, Stilinski. This is your jeep.”

“Damn right,” he mumbles, connecting wires, “This baby needs to last me through college.”

The duct tape didn’t look very promising, but you had to admire his persistence. “I’ll get the topcoat ready then.”

It took another hour to get the hood ready for screwing in. You help with holding tools and holding pieces in place. Stiles makes sarcastic remarks and tries not to swear when he pinches a finger. You laugh at his jokes and ignore the unevenness of your heart rate.

When the hood was in place and the spray paint on your skin dry and cracking, the pair of you walk inside for some lemonade.

Stiles keeps staring at his initials on your cheek. “Thank you for helping me. It wouldn’t have turned out half as good without you.”

“It was fun,” you nod, a hand to your chest. A pain was flaring there. You try to breathe past the tightness, “I think I need… I need a second.” Your watch beeps the exact same time as Stiles’ phone.

You share a confused glance with the boy as he blabs, “I can explain!”

“One second,” you say, leaning forward and closing your eyes. You nearly collapse in a dining chair, and a moment later you feel large hands on your knees, squeezing gently.

“Try to ground yourself,” he whispers to you, “Remember… what do you hear?”

It takes you longer to answer, holding your chest like it’ll keep your heart there. “The refrigerator running. Birds outside. And your heavy breathing.” You crack a smile despite the frantic fluttering in your chest.

Stiles scoffs, “And what do you feel?”

“My heartbeat,” you put your free hand on top of Stiles’, curling your fingers around his. “Your hand. And the cracking spray paint.” It was getting easier to breathe.

Stiles was rubbing his thumb along the inside of your knee. His own chest was inflating again, that powerful warmth that only happened when he was near you. His throat bobs as heat floods his cheeks – thankfully he was covered in spray paint.

He checks your watch screen as your heart rate went down, “That’s it.”

“Thanks,” you say, letting go of his fingers. He pulls his hands away quickly after that. “I think I should head home and shower. All this paint is making my skin itch now.”

He laughs awkwardly, standing, “Well, uh… you could always, you know… shower here.” His eyes widen and he starts to ramble on further as if to stop you from saying no, “I mean, I have extra clothes and I was planning on taking Scott out tonight to get his mind off the breakup. You could stay and we could all go together?”

You let the silence go on just for your own amusement. He was practically shaking waiting for your answer. “Sure, that’d be great.”

“Yay… I mean, yeah sure – cool cool.” He gestures to the stairs and leads the way, “There’s everything you need in the bathroom. I’ll just… jeans probably won’t fit, and I don’t believe in shorts…”

“Sweatpants are fine,” you say, enjoying every second of his rambling.

“Right, good,” he was pinching the ends of his shaved hair. You wonder if he was one to run his fingers through his hair when it was long. “I assume you don’t need boxers…” he chokes on his laugh, probably thinking about you in that very item of clothing. “But I’ll get you a shirt and a towel. Wait right here.”

You spy into the hallway bathroom and giggle at the few items of clothing strewn about the floor. A toothbrush was thrown onto the counter and leaving white, foamy scum on the counter. A deodorant stick was open and toppled over. A 2-in-1 shampoo was leaking in the shower. Overall, about as much as you expected.

“Oh god,” Stiles yells, spotting the same things you were, “I’m so sorry. It’s such a mess in here.” He starts to bang against the walls, picking up clothes and fallen toiletries along the way. “Clearly I wasn’t expecting company.” He steps on a sleeve and trips to the floor in a colossal crash.

You stifle a laugh as you bend to help him up, “So you really didn’t expect me to show up, huh?”

His cheeks were a blotchy red, a terrible sinking pit in his stomach. “It’s a wonder you haven’t run out of here the first chance you got.” His arms were full of clothes and a sneaker and a couple stiff washcloths that you didn’t want to think about.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” you smile at his red face – the picture of embarrassment. He was so endearing in the sweetest way. The spray paint was starting to chip from his skin and flake onto the clothes he was holding. “I like you this way.”

Stiles figures he better leave before he does anything else stupid. “I’m going to use… my d-dad’s bathroom downstairs.” He fumbles the sneaker but catches it by the laces. “I’ll be super quick, so you have all the hot water.”

You nod, closing the door on his bright blotchy face. You step into the shower, not planning to use up the hot water either, and investigate any other hygiene products. The 2-in-1 must have been used as a body wash and face wash as well because there was nothing else to be seen. Shaking your head you use the bottle to clean all the spray paint off your body.

You had to scrub your skin raw, but the blue finally came off. You were quick to realize that the woods smell that Stiles usually had came from this shampoo. It was mixed with the strong scent of tea tree oil. At least the Sheriff knew a thing or two about antibacterial soap and how much a lacrosse player needed it.

The mirror wasn’t even fogged up with steam when you step out. You found the pile of clothes Stiles brought before he fumbled with cleaning.

Some dark sweatpants and a gray t-shirt with a star wars logo on the front. He even threw in a green and blue flannel to keep your arms warm when they went to get Scott.

You thread your fingers through your wet hair, carrying your ruined day clothes over your shoulder. Down the stairs you find Stiles making sandwiches in the kitchen. His shirt was a little damp from the shower, and he had goosebumps running up his arms.

“You look cold,” you say, sauntering in and catching the sweatpants before they fell a few inches. You tie the strings to make them tighter around your waist and find Stiles staring at you slack jawed.

“Um… uh – yeah. Sure, maybe a little.” He shrugs repeatedly as if that would calm the tension he was feeling.

You lean against the counter, watching him avoid your gaze, “Did you take a cold shower?”

“What – I like them!”

“No one likes them,” you scoff, “There was enough time for us both to shower fine.”

He stuck out his bottom lip, tilting his head to a shoulder, “I just wanted to make sure you had enough hot water.” Before you could make any other retort, he says in a louder voice, “I figured we could eat something and then pick up Scott.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, watching him work. It seems he wanted to busy himself, so he didn’t get caught staring at you again.

“Have you talked with Andrew at all since him babysitting you?”

You wince at the word ‘babysit.’ “We’ve been texting a little bit. I’m waiting for him to tell me when our date will be.”

“So he did ask you out.” Stiles cut his tomato with a little more force than was necessary.

“I guess, maybe,” you smile, feeling a little rosy in the cheeks.

Stiles sees the sudden flush and he flexes his jaw. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I mean – Andrew is actually a good guy compared to most of the boys at school.”

“Ah – shit!” Stiles drops his knife and holds his index finger.

You round the counter, “Are you okay?”

He waves you off, going for a band aid in a cupboard, “It’s fine, blood is red, tomatoes are red… no harm done.”

You laugh, snatching the band aid from him, “Let me see that.” You peel back the plastic and pull his hand towards your face.

He’s obviously upset about something, but that didn’t stop the red splotches from reappearing on his face. His long fingers were shaking slightly – from Adderall or his usual fidgets, you weren’t sure – but he was standing still as you gently apply the bandage.

You’re soft as you wrap the adhesive sides and push down to keep it stuck to the tip of his finger. “There,” you lean down and place a little kiss on the bandage, “All better.”

Stiles huffs an awkward laugh, almost shaken by your make-it-better kiss. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says testily, making the sandwiches a little more roughly than before.

You squint your eyes, upset that he was holding back. “Are you going to give me a ‘you-shouldn’t-date-him’ speech like you did with Josh Arnett?”

Stiles takes a deep breath through his nose, and it seems to calm him enough to say in an even tone, “Like you said, Andrew is a good guy. He’d be lucky to date you.”

The sincerity in his voice put a little hitch in your chest, and you had to remember that he had access to your heartbeat.

“Moving on,” you say quickly, “Are you going to tell me how you got ahold of my heart monitor?”

Stiles plates the sandwiches and goes for a couple bags of chips in the pantry. He was stuttering the whole way and came back a little pink. “After the video store and I… stayed the night. I – couldn’t sleep. After a couple hours and me trying to read your latest Harry Potter book…”

“You can’t start reading the series on the sixth one, dummy.”

He waves you off, presenting you with dinner. “You turned over in your sleep… and your hand was – was resting on my arm; the hand that had your watch.” He takes a big bite of his sandwich and rushes through the rest, “It turned on when your heart rate went up a little bit in your sleep and I thought… it would m-make sense to share that monitor with other people so they can take care of you in an emergency.”

You quietly eat your meal as you listen, a warmth in your stomach at feeling looked after and cared about. Stiles took it upon himself to help you and strangely… you didn’t mind it like you did when it came to your parents.

“Your watch doesn’t have a password on it so…”

“My parents thought it’d be easier if someone needed to access my heart monitor app if I fainted.”

He nods, “So I opened it while you were asleep and connected my phone to the app.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” you say softly, watching him with that warmth you were feeling. It was comforting and you realize how comfortable you felt around Stiles – especially when talking about something so personal to you.

“I was afraid you’d be all stoic and say you’re fine,” he smirks at you, “And that you can take care of yourself.”

You shake your head and huff a laugh, “Smart man.”

The two of you share a few more laughs before Stiles goes on to apologize again, “I’m sorry this isn’t the greatest meal. I’m no chef (Y/N).” He waves his hands around as he says it, “But…”

“It’s good,” you say, smiling. “I don’t like to cook all the time.”

You get off topic as you continue to eat. You discuss your science project and the upcoming chemistry test on Monday. Stiles tells you the made up story about what happened at the school. You ask more questions about Derek. Sherrif Stilinski had contacted state police to handle a possible serial killer. School had been closed Thursday and Friday to deal with the damages, so you hadn’t missed classes while being sick.

The sun starts to set as Stiles cleans your plates. “There is one more thing about tonight that I forgot to mention.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in, “What do girls usually do during breakups?”

“Well, Allison, Lydia, and I had a night of crying as we watched The Notebook and Titanic. We ordered takeout and ranted about every stupid thing a boy has ever done to us. We ate chocolate and contemplated possibly being alone forever. And then we passed out after doing our hair and giving each other facials.”

Stiles was not expecting that, “You did all of that in one night?”

“Hence why we passed out at three in the morning.”

He shakes his head, “Well for Scott… we’re going to get him drunk.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

“We’re going to get drunk and make sure he has a good time.”

“Cause no one has ever been considered a sad drunk before.”

He gives you a deadpan stare. It makes you giggle – he was so open with his facial expressions.

“I just want to take his mind off of it.”

You consider him, “Where are we going to get alcohol?”

Stiles holds up a finger and goes to rummage in a side cabinet near the dining table. He returns with a full bottle of Jack Daniels. You smile to see the comparison you had made multiple times. Stiles’ eyes were sometimes like sunshine through whiskey.

He took your smile as a good sign, “You up for it?”

~~~

You and Stiles were leading the way past the park entrance and onto a cliff face with Scott trailing behind. The moon was out and very nearly full, shining a perfect light around the outcrop.

The ground was uneven and layered with rock, sparse pine trees growing between the cracks. There was a bonfire barrel just ahead that Stiles went to light.

“Where are we going?” Scott grumbles.

He was looking a little worse for wear. After your night of girl talk and general anguish, Allison seemed to be faring better. It was strange to see how each party handled the breakup.

“Cause we really shouldn’t be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school.”

Stiles sighs, “Well, your mom isn’t the sheriff, okay? There’s no comparison, trust me.”

“It’ll be fine, Scott,” you say, “It’s been quiet since Wednesday.”

Your friend was over it. “Can you at least just tell me what we’re doing out here?”

“Yes. When your best friend gets dumped…”

“I didn’t get dumped,” Scott butts in, “We’re taking a break.” He looks to you as if asking you to prove it.

You shrug, breathing in the cold air and swinging your arms in the too-long sleeves of Stiles’ flannel. “She’s pretty decided.” It was Scott’s fault after all that Allison made the decision. “She’s already given you a second chance.”

“Not helping!” Stiles snaps, “When your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they’re taking a break…” Stiles stops walking next to the bonfire barrel, moon shining right above his head. “You get your best friend drunk.”

He holds up the bottle of amber, proud of himself for taking it from his father’s stash.

Scott sighs but doesn’t fight it. He was more interested in talking to you about the situation, which tells you how he really wants to handle the breakup. While Stiles works on lighting a fire in the barrel, you sit on a rock and pat the spot next to you for Scott.

He slumps down as if his body is heavier than usual. “Thank you for being here.”

You lean into him a little. It was cold and his body was warm. “I’ll always be here for my friends.”

“I mean, especially since you’re one of Allison’s best friends too.” His voice lowers when he says her name, like it was painful.

“Of course, I’m not picking sides, Scott. I have my girls… and I have my boys.” You wrap an arm around his shoulders and squeeze him to you. Your head lays on his shoulder, and you could almost feel the hurt he was feeling. It wasn’t as teary as Allison’s, but it was still very plain to see.

He takes a deep breath and stares out past the cliff at the rest of the forest below. It was almost like the moon was putting him in an even worse mood.

“Has she…”

“No,” you cut him off. “We had our night talking about it and she hasn’t brought it up since. But it’s only been a few days and you know Lydia is trying to swear her off of boys for a while.”

Scott nods, sinking into you a little more. “What do you think about it?”

You rub his shoulders a little, “I think what you did was done out of fear and anger, but it was still very stupid.” You feel him swallow thickly, “You shouldn’t have taken it out on her.”

He hangs his head, moving his hands up to hold his face. “I know.”

“If I’m being completely honest though… it’s going to be hard for her to get over you.” You lean closer to talk quietly as Stiles whoops at his roaring fire from behind. “Just give it some time to settle and try to apologize again. Try to give her more of a reason why you acted that way and she’ll understand. She’s very understanding if you don’t hold the truth from her.”

Scott turns his head sideways in one hand and looks at you with glassy eyes. You could tell he wasn’t going to cry, but he was heartened to hear your words.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

You nudge him around a little, “Anytime.”

Stiles jumps off another large rock and lands with the bottle in his hands, already taking a swig, “Let’s party!”

Scott grumbles again but takes a couple gulps of the bottle before handing it to you. As you raise the rim to your lips, Stiles starts shouting.

“Hey, hey! You’re not supposed to be drinking that.”

You take a big swallow, the burning liquid stinging your throat as it goes down to warm your churning belly. “Because why?”

“Because alcohol can increase arrhythmias,” he says matter-of-factly, “I read that in my… research.”

You shrug, taking another gulp, blowing out a breath as if it were on fire. “Hasn’t stopped me before.” You mock the boys’ shocked silence with a muttered, “You’re not the only one that has stolen a drink from your parents liquor cabinet.”

Stiles still looks worried as you hand the bottle back, “Make sure you check your watch.”

“You have that on your phone now,” you stretch back, leaning on your hands, “You can worry about it.”

Scott gave half a smile, “You found out about that?”

“He hadn’t exactly hidden it well,” you giggle, already rosy from the alcohol.

You and Stiles continue to share the bottle, laughing at each other as you tell Scott about your day. You mock the state of the blue jeep while Stiles makes fun of your little crush on Andrew Wickstrom. You whisper (basically shout) about the old washcloths found in the bathroom while Stiles splutters his next swig all over the ground. And you finally laugh about how any of you were to take chemistry tests seriously when the school has been in disarray.

Scott stops drinking after his few sips and continues to stare off into the distance, hurting as he watches you and Stiles fall over each other on the ground. Stiles slams the bottle down with a tink of the glass and you shush him.

“You’ll break it,” you slur, words feeling funny in your mouth. You fall back and hit your head on the rock Scott was sitting on still. “Ow!”

Stiles rolls over from where he was laying and cups your head, pulling it from the rock, “Oh no…” he sounds just as drunk, “Did you get an owie?”

You rub at the slight egg forming on the back of your head, “The rock decided to punch me.”

“I’m sorry,” and he kisses your hairline, “There, all better.”

You laugh like that was the funniest thing in the world, “You gave me a make-it-better kiss!”

“I learned from the best,” he let your head go and you both fell onto your backs, laughing.

Scott closes his eyes and takes a shallow breath, tense from his friends having a flirty experience without them realizing it. He ignores as Stiles lifts his bandaged index finger and declares how “(Y/N)’s make-it-better kisses could cure cancer.”

You look up, laughing at that, and notice Scott folding his arms to keep the cold away. “Oh no…” you lean to whisper (again – basically shout) at Stiles, “He’s thinking about her again.”

“Dude, you know she’s just one… one girl. You know, there are so many… there are so many other girls in the sea.”

“Fish in the sea,” Scott corrects.

You gasp, “I should make a shrimp scampi.”

“Shrimp are not fish,” Stiles giggles, “Why are we talking about fish? I’m talking about girls.” His voice gets quieter, “I love girls. I love them.” He stares off at the moonlit sky while you try to contain your laughter, cheeks blooming red.

You tap out, refusing more drink but still overly drunk. Instead you wrap a hand around Scott’s ankle as if that was still giving him silent support.

“I love…” Stiles continues to ramble, “Especially ones that are super smart and like true crime and books and… and can cook super well and have a history of serious heart conditions.”

“Like (Y/N)?”

You lift your head but decided the motion was going to make you sick.

“Like who?” Stiles mutters before smiling wide, “Like whom? What was I talking about?” He looks up to see Scott brooding over his crossed arms, “Hey, you’re not happy. Take a drink.”

“I don’t want any more,” Scott says.

“You’re not drunk?” Stiles asks, only to hear you fall into giggles again.

You lean your head towards him, “I’m drunk.” You still had one hand on Scott, running your fingers weirdly around his ankle in an absentminded gesture. Scott didn’t care – he still found it somewhat comforting to have you there.

“Hey, maybe it’s like… maybe it’s like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know.”

You tug on his pants leg, “You used to need an inhaler?” You were starting to sound sleepy.

“Maybe you can’t get drunk as a wolf.”

Scott picked up a pebble and threw it at Stiles’ face.

“Hey! What the hell…” he rubs at his face harshly, throwing his arms out afterwards. One of his arms lands across yours. “Come on man, I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don’t know,” he chuckles, his fingers subconsciously finding the skin of your wrist just under the flannel sleeve. They’re light and lazy as they trail up your wrist and down to your palm.

You hardly react, too drunk to really care. “I don’t really know either. Never had anything past a situationship before. They always leave when things get too serious.” You shiver, tickled by Stiles’ fingers. “They get all scared about me dying.”

Stiles rolls his head around the rocks he’s laying on, too far gone to really register what you’re saying, “I do know this though! I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse.” He laughs quietly, “That didn’t make any sense.”

His long fingers were overtaking the space of your hand now, tracing the skin there as he drifts off. Scott was staring at the two of you with mixed emotions, that is until a mystery guest appears to steal your bottle of whiskey.

“Well,” a sinister older looking boy says, “Look at the little bitches getting their drink on.”

Scott sets his face in cool indifference, “Give it back.”

Stiles’ fingers are no longer light and lazy – they grip your hand and pull you closer to him, half sitting up as he tries to clear his head. You hardly register the movement of your hand, only the distant panic starting to rise in your throat at the newcomers.

“What’s that, little man?” the guy had to be a senior or even a freshman in college.

Another guy of similar age was just behind him, “I think he wants a drink.”

Stiles was trying to stand up, “Scott, maybe we should just go.”

“Woah, woah – wait a minute,” the first guy whistles, “The party is just starting.” He eyes you down, “What’s your name, baby?”

You swallow hard, “We were just leaving.” Your head was terribly clearer now as a thrill of fear went down your spine. You try to stand too, “Enjoy the drink.”

“Oh, we will,” the guy says, approaching your standing figure, “But only if you enjoy it with us.”

“Hey, back off man,” Stiles says, wobbly as he holds onto you, “We don’t want any trouble.”

The guy goes for your free arm, slow but tight in how he grabs you, “You don’t want to spend the night with these losers. We can show you a better time.”

“Let go of me,” you say fiercely, but fear was shining in your eyes.

Stiles starts rambling off sentences of retort, pulling on you and pushing the guy away. Until you were yanked sharply, and a squeal escapes you.

All bets were off after that.

Stiles throws his drunken arms towards the guy, eventually punching him on the jawline closer to his ear. Scott, his eyes gleaming a strange yellow light, grabs the bottle of jack from the senior’s hand and throws it with incredible speed against a faraway tree.

His voice is deep and strange as he says, “Get out of here.”

And the two guys run off back towards the woods, passing the tree now drenched in whiskey and glass.

Your teeth were chattering, heartbeat rapid, and a look of fear plastered to your wide eyes. Stiles was shaking your shoulders, “You okay?” Then he pulls you into his embrace, guiding your head to rest under his chin, “You’re okay.” He rubs up and down your arm as he watches Scott stomp away towards the jeep.

“Hey, woah – Scott!” he holds you to him, kind of like a support for both your drunken bodies, but you’re grateful for the warmth his body provides as you head for the parking lot again.

Scott drives you all home, angry as he watches you sleepily lay in Stiles’ arms. The fidgety, sarcastic boy was slumped against the door and had his arms wrapped around you, snoring and completely unaware of how lucky he was.

He was going to lose his mind when he wakes up and doesn’t remember it all very well.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (7)

ー☆ Chapter 7: Figure It Out

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cussing ー☆ Word count: 5.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hey, lovelies! I'm back with another chapter, sorry for the longer wait, but I had to finish a veeery lengthy oneshot (you can check it out if you want, it's another Mingi one and it's part of my pirate series). I really liked this chapter, it isn't very charged with action, but I think we can finally see the progress in their relationship (or maybe it's just me haha). You know the jist, but please listen to this chapter's song Figure It Out before or while reading the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoy and have a nice rest of the week! <3

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『Nothing here to see

Just a kid like me

Trying to cut some teeth

Trying to figure it out』

            Mingi’s studio wasn’t so big compared to how it appeared from the outside. But it felt cozy and rather homey with a few polaroid photos stamped up on the wall above a small dark green couch, which had a dozen of colored pillows, and a yellow blanket thrown haphazardly on it. I slipped the straps of my backpack off my shoulders and placed it by the couch, clearing my throat, feeling a bit awkward as I disregarded my jacket, and placed it next to Mingi’s on the sofa. There was a small window, but blinds were covering it, and the lights were rather dim as I turned to face Mingi. He was grinning, hands gripped together in front of himself, and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, what do you think?” He asked as he gestured around, and I chuckled, letting my eyes roam around for a second time. His desk was long and seemed rather organized, a few notebooks opened and pens littered around it. His whole setup took up a lot of space, but you still had enough to be able to write comfortably. He had yellow little notes scattered all around his wall in front of his desk, and for some reason I found that adorable. Mingi tended to be forgetful, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d have to jot down his thoughts quickly while working on his songs.

“It’s cool,” I muttered with a shrug, pushing my hands in the pockets of my jeans, “I’ve never been inside a studio before.”

“Glad to be your first.” My eyes narrowed at Mingi’s words, and judging based on the cheeky smile on his face, he knew what he was doing. I huffed and rolled my eyes, feeling a little weird being cooped up in a small space, alone with Mingi. We’ve never really been on our own before, despite texting and talking at university as well, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward still. It’s like the feeling never truly went away, but maybe it was just me as Mingi seemed rather relaxed and nonchalant. I cleared my throat when Mingi didn’t say anything else, suddenly a question pressing on my tongue.

“Uh, have you had lunch today?” I asked as I shuffled on my two feet, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowing in an almost adorable manner. And as if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, making me chuckle as I shook my head at him, “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get the chance.” He sighed, pouting, “I kinda overlooked the date of the deadline and now I really can’t afford wasting any more time.”

“Then why would you drive me home? Isn’t that wasting your time?” I asked as I went to retrieve my bag. I had bought some butter croissants this morning that I never got to eat as I had a smaller stomachache, to which the cure was a good, warm, soup. If I ate these croissants, it would’ve only upset my stomach more.

“It’s raining.” As if that was reasoning enough, but I stayed silent as I unzipped my backpack and dug into it, looking for the plastic bag, “And to be fair, I kind of need a break. I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.”

“I thought you didn’t have a mind.” I teased with a pointed look, making Mingi roll his eyes as I finally found the plastic bag and grabbed it out of my backpack before I lowered it back onto the floor, “Here, eat these.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in surprise and he seemed reluctant for a second, “Just take it, I won’t eat them and I’d rather you eat it then I throw it away later.”

“Aw,” Mingi cooed as he took a few steps to come closer, batting his eyelashes at me in a cringe worthy manner, “Did you buy this specifically for me?”

“I bought them for myself, did you not hear what I said?” I deadpanned, and whiskey my hand away when Mingi went to grab the plastic bag. He quirked an eyebrow and I gave him a long stare, slightly glaring, “I wouldn’t waste my little money on you, you’re not special.”

“In that case, I don’t want it.” Mingi’s face slipped into a neutral mask, and I gulped, suddenly regretting my words. Perhaps I was being too harsh with him when he was always rather nice to me. I cleared my throat and grabbed his hand, ignoring the warmness of it, and pressed the plastic bag into his palm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” I muttered and quickly released Mingi’s hand, looking off to the side as Mingi tried to fight off the smile on his face, looking rather pleased with himself.

“You’ve been making progress.” He grinned, as he opened the plastic bag and grabbed a butter croissant out of it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched him take a big bite, smiling in bliss as he quickly chewed the food in his mouth, basically inhaling the pastry in mere seconds, making me rather amused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You recognize when you make a mistake, and you apologize for it.” Mingi said through a mouth full of croissant, and I grimaced at his antics. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and balled up the plastic bag, aiming for the trash can which was next to the door, just a few feet away from it. He made a show of throwing it, only for it to land on the floor merely two steps away from us. I snorted in amusement as Mingi cleared his throat, flashing me a small embarrassed smile, “Anyways, I want to show you something.”

“Won’t you pick it up?” I raised an eyebrow as Mingi ignored my question and grabbed my right wrist, dragging me towards his desk, “And don’t get too used to my apologies. I know you’re only pretending to be mad at me, so I’ll stop being apologetic.”

“I’m not pretending,” Mingi huffed, throwing a quick glance at me as we reached his desk, and he reached for a chair pushed off to the side, “You have a special way with your words and you always manage to hurt my feelings somehow.”

“You’re just too sensitive.” I quickly snapped, defensive for no reason. Or maybe not for no reason, but because I knew he was right. I couldn’t help myself. I might’ve started growing more accustomed to having Mingi in my life, in a very friendship sort of way, but I still couldn’t help but have my doubts about him. I could never know. He was Yunho’s best friend after all, and whoever associated themselves with that man, wasn’t the best kind. And I know judging Mingi based on who he’s friends with is rather wrong, but it only felt right as of now. We didn’t know each other too well yet.

“I’ve been told so before,” Mingi gently pushed me in the chair he had fetched for me, pulling his own chair behind himself to take his seat, “Yunho always says despite my tough exterior I have a rather soft heart, easily harmed. Hence why I cried a lot as a child—”

“You were a crybaby?” I asked with a chuckle, watching Mingi amused as he huffed, leaning back in his chair, looking as if he regretted admitting that.

“Of course you’d make fun of me for that,” He rolled his eyes before he leaned forward, pulling his chair closer to the desk, grabbing his mouse, “But yes, I still cry.”

“A lot?” I teased, biting my lower lip when Mingi gave me a pointed stare.

“Says the one who looked like a kicked puppy abandoned by the curb when I found you at the restaurant.” Mingi muttered under his breath as he turned his computer on, clicking through various folders rather quickly. I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You didn’t find me there, we just happened to be at the same place.” I corrected him, “Much to my dismay.”

“Yeah, right,” Mingi scoffed, pulling up a file of various recordings on his computer screen, “if I remember correctly, you were rather grateful that I drove you home that night.”

“You kept insisting.” I pressed, giving Mingi a look when he turned his head to look at me.

“You must always have the last word, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, not looking too impressed, “Even through texts.”

『Nothing better to do

When I'm stuck on you

And still I'm in here

Trying to figure it out』

I just shrugged and remained silent, not admitting to his correct observation. Mingi just shook his head with a quiet tsk and then went and unplugged his headphones from the computer. He licked his lips and grabbed his glasses off the desk, pressing them up on his long nose, ruffling his black fluffy hair. He seemed to be a bit nervous as he swiveled his chair around to face me, interlacing his fingers in front of himself as he rested his arms on the armrests of the chair.

“So, uh, this isn’t finished yet,” Mingi spoke up, chuckling almost awkwardly, “it’s just a sample, still raw and shit. I started working on the track this week, but I’ve been writing the lyrics for a few weeks now. Found some inspiration for it quite recently, actually.”

“Why’s that?” I found myself asking curiously, glancing at the screen of his computer before looking back at him.

“Well, just…reasons.” Mingi was evasive as he averted his eyes, but I didn’t press the matter as he clearly looked like he didn’t want to talk about it. So, I just hummed and nodded my head in understanding, waiting patiently for him to speak up again.

“Anyways,” He cleared his throat and clapped his hands, turning back to face his computer, “you’ll be the first one to hear it. And don’t laugh, like I said, it’s far from being perfect.”

“I would never laugh, Mingi.” I said seriously as my eyebrows furrowed, making Mingi glance back at me. He studied my face for a second before he nodded once, ruffling his bangs quickly as he pressed start on the player. The song started out as a steady beat accompanied by the guitar playing softly, the melody rather comforting. It was a delicate way of easing you into the song, and as it flew naturally, Mingi’s voice suddenly made an appearance, his rasp not as noticeable as normally as his vocals were soft, completely in tune with the music and the beat.

“My head is haunting me, and my heart feels like a ghost/I need to feel something 'cause I'm still so far from home/Cross your heart and hope to die/Promise me you'll never leave my side.” I gulped as I leaned back in the chair, eyes fixated on the big screen of Mingi’s computer, soaking in the words, trying to be less aware of Mingi sitting next to me, trying to ignore my unsteady heartbeat.

“Show me what I can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone/You got me on my knees, I'm your one-man cult.” Mingi’s leg was bouncing up and down rapidly, his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes were fixed onto the screen of his computer, something suddenly dropping in the pit of my stomach as I took a glance at him from the corner of my eyes, “Cross my heart and hope to die/Promise you I'll never leave your side.”

I gulped as my fingers wrung together, lightly bobbing my head to the steady rhythm of the song, enjoying the instrumental as I drunk in Mingi’s words, his deep voice warm and pleasant to listen to, feeling goosebumps erupt on my arms, underneath my long sleeves.

“'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need/I promise you, you're all I see.” I took a peek in Mingi’s direction as was slightly startled to find him watching me, his eyes trained on me intently. His eyebrows were very lightly furrowed as his right hand was fisted, and he sniffed loudly, holding eye contact as the next words flew smoothly against the melody, my cheeks suddenly flushed for no reason, “'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need/I'll never leave.”

The melody was light, instrumental smooth as Mingi’s voice almost faded with the next words, that is until the drums kicked up and the beat became heavier, Mingi’s strong voice easily accompanying the instruments, rasp harsh as Mingi’s voice audibly shook with emotions poured into the song, “So, you can drag me through hell/If it meant I could hold your hand/I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell/And you can throw me to the flames/I will follow you, I will follow you.”

And just as I blinked, the music stopped as Mingi hit the pause button, clearing his throat loudly as he rubbed at his chin, averting his eyes as I noticed a deep flush on his face. He swiveled his chair a little towards the desk, angling his body away from mine, “Uh, like I said, it’s still raw, so it’s not that good. I recorded the first two verses like yesterday, and was playing around with the chorus before I noticed you…yeah.”

I couldn’t help but smile softly as I looked at his profile, meanwhile Mingi quickly closed the folders he had open, “Mingi, it’s…like, really good. I have no idea what standards music majors and your professors have, but to my painter ears this is…a masterpiece or something.”

Mingi froze for a second, eyes wide when he faced me again, “Really? You think so?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed with a huff, growing embarrassed as Mingi continued to look at me with a surprised expression on his face. Perhaps I really should stop teasing and playfully insulting him so much, what if he doesn’t believe my compliments when I’m being genuine?

“I’m glad.” Mingi suddenly muttered, a soft smile settling on his lips before he chuckled, turning his head away, “I’ve have to finish the chorus and then we can go, is that good with you?”

“Sure,” I smiled, grabbing my phone from my pocket as Mingi went and plucked the headphones back into the computer, throwing it around his neck, “Take your time.”

『Getting hard to sleep

Blood is in my dreams

Love is killing me

Trying to figure it out』

He hummed and then put on the headphones, clicking away on his computer as the music file opened again, and I could hear the soft melody quietly slither through the headphones. I found myself looking at Mingi a second too long before I snapped out of it, clearing my throat as I unlocked my phone and looked down at it, checking for any unread messages. As expected, there was nothing from my mother as she preferred calling even for the smallest things. From Seulgi there was also nothing as she was on a date with Wooyoung, probably too preoccupied by each other to pay attention to anything else around them. I could only hope they would finally make things official, their feelings way too obvious to be beating around the bush for any longer. They were rather cute, but also extremely annoying. I’d rather prefer Seulgi gush to me about Wooyoung as her boyfriend, than the guy she just has a massive crush on, repeating the same things over and over again, completely ignoring the advice I give her.

As there was nobody else I would be texting, other than Mingi, I clicked out of the app and absentmindedly opened Instagram, scrolling through my feed, sighing quietly. There was a light tapping sound coming from Mingi’s direction, and I looked up to see him hitting his pen against the table rhythmically, following the beat of the song, probably. There were a few new words jotted down in his notebook, the page looking like a mess of jumble to me, but probably to Mingi it was quite organized, and clear what he had scribbled down there. I looked back down at my phone, smiling as cute puppy videos popped up in my recommended, watching the video until the end before I left a like on it, scrolling past it. There were a few other posts from my acquittances from my uni classes, and I liked them all as I sighed, realizing a little get-away sounded rather nice now that I saw pictures of people traveling. I scrolled some more down, and froze for a second as Yunho’s familiar username popped up, three pictures posted one after another. There was one of two coffee cups placed on a small round table, with the view over the city in the background. The second picture was of the sunset, the sky purple and pink. And then the third one was of two intertwined hands, and I didn’t fail to notice the tag on the picture. It was probably that new girl, but I found myself not wanting to actually check, to actually confirm that it was her. I sighed, eyes lingering on the last photo, yet quickly realized, rather startled, that I didn’t feel as bitter about as I once used to. It didn’t make me react as badly like the first time I had seen his story with his new girlfriend, and my eyebrows furrowed as I ruminated on the feeling, taking my lower lip between my teeth. Yes, I still felt rather bitter about it, but it left me rather…cold? Unimpressed, maybe? Unphased, even? My eyebrows furrowed further more at the sudden confusion of my feelings, and I went to scroll again, when a username down at the comments caught my eyes.

minkiprncess: u never invite me out on coffee dates, im jealous

YuYu🌻: i thought u liked picnic dates more?

I quickly shut the app off and cleared my throat, finding my eyes glued to Mingi instantly. Seeing him talk like that to Yunho…was strange, but certainly not unexpected. They’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Their bond ran deep, and the way Yunho would often gush about Mingi, it only seemed right to see those words typed out by Mingi. But I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around their friendship, and how it worked, since Mingi seemed to be…quite genuine as days went by. I hated to admit it, but he really wasn’t as bad as I had thought at first. Perhaps I was prejudiced, but it felt too soon to let my guard down, to truly open up and let him in like I once had done with Yunho. That was a mistake, and I was scared of committing the same mistake twice. With my eyes on Mingi, and seeing as he was rather occupied at the moment, I allowed myself the luxury to truly look at him, to take him in as he was. His profile was pretty as his black hair fell over his forehead in soft waves, definitely not styled, as I had seen Mingi run his fingers through it numerous times since I had arrived. His brow bone was rather defined and it came more forward, his brows thick and dark, seemingly a perfect fit for his features. His nose was tall and long, the bridge straight and almost perfect, probably leaving many jealous for not having a nose like his. His glasses framed his face, and they were once again slipping down his nose, but Mingi made no sign of wanting to fix that, of pushing them up as you were supposed to wear them. The distance between his upper lip and nose wasn’t too big, even from the side, his cherry red lips were plump and had a rather pretty shape, forcing me to swiftly try and look down at my own lips, wondering why a guy had better and prettier lips than a woman. I followed the sharp line of his jaw, chin not too forward, perfectly aligned with his nose, his well-defined cheekbones visible even from the side. My eyes lingered on the small mole on his jaw, way too familiar with its placement already as I had drawn it numerous times in my portraits of Mingi. I gulped and subconsciously licked my lips as my eyes ventured further, slipping down his exposed neck, his tan skin soft looking in the dim lights, his characteristic silver necklaces hanging around the base of his neck. Mingi sighed loudly and I looked at his face alarmed, thinking that I had been caught, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he took the pen he held in his hand between his white teeth, biting down on it as he looked frustrated. I had noticed before already, but his front teeth were slightly more ahead, protruding a little, and I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, finding this trait rather…adorable. Not wanting to linger too much on that thoughts, my eyes found themselves fixated on Mingi’s fingers, and I frowned upon just realizing something.

『I'll let it go 'cause I won't see you later

And we're not allowed to talk it out

I said I'd go, put myself on show

But I'm still trying to figure it out』

His nails were painted black, with rather abstract looking designs, and as I squinted, absentmindedly leaning forward in my chair to catch a better glimpse at his middle finger, I could read the words, fix on, painted on it. My eyebrows furrowed as it made me wonder whatever that meant, and I decided to ask Mingi about it later if given the chance. I allowed my eyes to linger on his nails longer, gulping as I noticed almost each long finger of his was decorated by a ring. I wasn’t foreign to his rings, I have noticed that Mingi loved wearing rings, and the one on his middle finger, with the big red gemstone seemed to always catch my attention. I hummed silently, taking my sweet time to closely analyze each one of his rings, noting which were new, to me, as I haven’t seen them on him before, and which were the ones he wore almost daily. He seemed to have two silver ones that he never failed to leave at home, both littered with small stones, prettily shining under the sunlight each time. Mingi’s fingers flexed for a second, tightening around the pen he was holding, and I watched as he started tapping the table, a low humming sound coming from his lips. I blinked as I realized what I had been doing, memorizing every bend of his fingers, every line and any scar decorating it, storing their shape and length deep in my mind for the time when I would have to recall it in order to draw his hands. In the process of all this, I couldn’t help but also notice that his hands seemed rather big, they would probably engulf mine nicely. The thought made me lightly flush as I remembered us holding hands in his car after we shared some personal stuff, and I shook my head lightly, trying to get rid of the memory. There was a light shuffle as Mingi cleared his throat, making me very slowly drag my eyes up, until they fell on his face. More particularly on his sharp and small eyes, which were on me, his eyebrows raised curiously as a smug smile seemed to be plastered on his lips. Fuck. I would’ve face palmed myself if it wasn’t for Mingi watching me, so, instead, I tried to flash him my best poker face while I totally, and absolutely, flushed red in embarrassment.

“Were you…” Mingi pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes playfully, “checking me out?”

“Like hell I was.” I snapped with a loud huff, definitely way too fast.

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mingi feigned confusion, “But—damn, then I must be mistaken. You certainly weren’t like…totally ogling my face and then salivating after my hands, right?”

As if to prove a point, he wriggled his fingers, making me clench my jaw as I forced a pathetic excuse of a laugh out of myself, giving him an unimpressed expression, “I wasn’t checking you out nor any of those things you just said—”

“Are you like, really sure?” Mingi huffed, tapping his lips in an annoying manner, “Because now you’re making me feel crazy—”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed exasperated, eyes widening as I huffed at Mingi, “fine, I was looking at your hands, but before it gets to your head, bro, I just simply think guys painting their nails is hot, okay?”

There was a long pause, Mingi’s eyes boring into mine as a smirk made its way on his lips, looking all smug and pleased with himself, “So…”

I gulped nervously as he suddenly pushed his chair slightly back, and started leaning in towards me, the look taunting on his face, “You think I’m hot?”

“Not you.” I snapped, glaring at him, “That’s not what I said—”

“But you indirectly admitted that I’m hot—”

“No, Mingi. I didn’t admit anything, God, this is why I don’t talk to you.” I huffed and pushed my chair back, feeling uncomfortable as he was siting so close to me, making me gulp nervously. I quickly stood from my chair and went to walk to get my backpack, but Mingi quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

“Where are you going?” He asked, smugness and smirk gone from his face. I rolled my eyes at him, but didn’t pull my wrist out of his grip.

“Home, obviously.” I huffed, and Mingi very gently pushed me back towards the chair, making me sit in it.

“Let me finish this up, and we’re leaving.” He quickly turned and went back to clicking away on his computer, pursing his lips as with his left hand he closed his notebook, throwing the pen absentmindedly on his desk. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, but didn’t say anything else, waiting for him to do whatever he needed to do before we would finally leave. Some fresh air would certainly serve well for a wakeup call.

            The light drizzle had turned into rain after we’ve reached Mingi’s car and waited for the engine to warm up a bit. Mingi wasn’t as embarrassed about it as last time, and I found myself feeling the need to reassure him that I didn’t give a shit whether his car was a fucking rocket or a simple carriage, as long as it was safe to drive and shielded us from the rain. Perhaps it was one of the very few times when I heard Mingi’s rich laughter, his head thrown back against the headrest and mouth wide open as he repeatedly hit the wheel, prompting me to match his laughter until my stomach hurt and I had to ask him to stop, unable to breathe anymore as tears sprung into my eyes. The radio was playing softly in the background, neither of us actually paying attention to it as Mingi had asked about my art class, inquiring about the painting I was currently working on. I briefed him about it as we had taken off, the rain making it rather hard to see well, but Mingi was a careful driver and he didn’t speed at all, being extra careful as the wipers of the car were placed on the fastest setup, the rain hitting the car loudly, making us raise our voices in order to be able to hear each other well.

“I assume you know Wooyoung and Seulgi are on a date.” Mingi spoke up as we had stopped at a red light, people running as they crossed the road, umbrellas doing almost nothing to shield them from the harsh rain anymore.

“Yeah, I hope they chose to go somewhere indoors, this rain is merciless.” Mingi chuckled, but nodded his head in agreement, leaning his head against the headrest. The cars in the lane to our left took off, their traffic light having turned green.

“Wooyoung mentioned about them going to the cinema, or at least that’s what he had in mind two days ago.” Mingi explained, shifting into first gear as the light turned green for us.

“Seulgi said something about a new place opening up where you could paint pottery while enjoying their delicacies.” I said in thought, wondering which one they have chosen.

“We should go there sometime,” Mingi took a right turn, mindful of the pedestrians and the huge puddles on the side of the road, “just the two of us.”

I hummed, thinking about it for a second before I looked at Mingi, “Sure.”

“Sure? Did you just say sure?” Mingi’s voice slightly raised and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, I said sure.” I repeated, Mingi’s mouth falling open.

“Did you just agree to going out with me?!” Mingi almost exclaimed, making me snort as I looked away, focusing on the road ahead.

“You didn’t ask me out.” I corrected.

“But I still could.” Mingi quickly said, making me shake my head with a small smile.

“Anyways, I hope Wooyoung makes his move soon.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead tiredly, “I’ve had enough of listening to Seulgi whine about how much she’s into him, but is confused of what Wooyoung wants.”

Mingi chuckled as he took a left turn, driving off the main road, barely three blocks away from my neighborhood, “Good to know I was right.”

I looked at him again curiously, and he quickly explained himself, “I’ve been telling Wooyoung she was into him, but he never believed me. He did say he’d ask her out today, but knowing Wooyoung…he might chicken out, again.”

I chuckled, amused by these two idiots, “Well, knowing Seulgi, she won’t chicken out. She also planned on asking Wooyoung out today.”

Mingi laughed, turning left, slowing down as he drove down my street, looking for my house closely. I smiled subconsciously and undid my seatbelt, planning to help him out by pointing my house out to him, but I didn’t have to. He was quick to come to a stop in front of it, placing the gear in neutral. He turned his head and looked at me, smiling, “Arrived.”

“Yeah.” I whispered and grabbed my backpack, looking out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden downpour, the car’s windshield wiper good for nothing at this point, “Damn, why is it raining so hard?”

“I hate it.” Mingi whined as he looked ahead too, lips jutting out in a pout, “I can’t even drive home now.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t.” I agreed as my eyebrows furrowed, “It’s not safe at all.”

“Yeah,” Mingi sighed and turned the engine off, undoing his seatbelt, “I’ll just wait for it to settle down, and then I’ll drive home.”

“Yeah, you should do that.” I agreed, looking at him, the rain hitting the roof of Mingi’s old Honda Prelude loud, “And text me when you get home, so that I know you’re safe.”

Mingi’s cheeks flushed, but just ever so slightly, and my eyes widened as he tried to avoid eye contact the more persistent I became, “Yeah, uh, I will. Promise I won’t forget this time.”

“You better,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes remembering all the times he would forget to text me that he had gotten to his destination safely, “I’m going now.”

“Okay.” Mingi’s head turned and we made eye contact for a second, before I offered him a small smile and pushed the door open, springing out of his car. It didn’t even take a minute for me to be completely drenched by the rainwater as I very quickly slammed Mingi’s door shut, gasping as my clothes got instantly soaked, hair sticking to my head. I turned and took off towards my house, running, but realizing it didn’t matter since I was already soaked. Well, so much for Mingi driving me home to save me from the freezing cold downpour. As I reached the middle of the driveway, I dared to take a peek at the sky, realizing that the almost black clouds looked menacing, and God knows when they’d pass, when the rain would stop. I stopped and turned, looking towards Mingi’s car as I bit my lower lip, having to blink my eyes fast to be able to see something. No car was driving down the roads anymore, no person out on the streets. What if the rain wouldn’t stop at all? It’s happened before, not even once. Would Mingi stay out in the car? He wouldn’t be able to leave if that were the case. Taking a deep breath, I made my decision as I raced back to his car, yanking the door open as I leaned down, Mingi’s wide eyes falling on my soaked form.

“Come inside, who knows when it’ll stop raining.” I called out loudly over the sound of the rain and the sudden rumble of the sky, making me shiver. I hated the thunder perhaps more than the flashing lightning. Mingi opened his mouth, probably to refuse my offer, but I didn’t leave room for him to argue, “Come on!”

And as I slammed the door shut again, he was out of the car in a second, closing his own door and locking his car quite clumsily, exclaiming as he got soaked in seconds, just like myself. I laughed as I took off towards the house, Mingi racing after me, giggling loudly as we reached the front steps of the porch, both shivering as I struggled to grab my keys out of my pocket.

“Oh my God, this sucks!” Mingi exclaimed just as another thunder shook the ground, and I jumped, throwing a glare towards the sky. Mingi saw it and chuckled, urging me to unlock the door, “Doll, I’m freezing my ass off, please open the door!”

“Who’s the drenched puppy kicked to the curb now, huh?” I asked with a teasing grin as I unlocked the front door, pushing it open. Mingi chuckled and rolled his eyes, but not before playfully pushing me forward, urging me on to step inside the house first.

We could only hope the downpour would stop soon enough.

❱❱ Next chapter

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 02

summary: Miles catches onto your antics. wc: ~800 a/n: some advanced haterism going on here. this has gotten increasingly fun to write as the plot ramps up! pls don't be scared 2 leave any reactions or thoughts in the comments + tags :) 01 02 03

From then on, you made it a point to ignore Miles during partner work and punctuate it with an eye roll. He tucked his head back in surprise the first time you did it, and you felt like you’d just won a prize.

…That is, until he ignored you back. 

Eventually, Miles just turned to the person in the next column to ask for a pen instead, seeming perfectly content with working on his own.

It should've been a relief.

Today, Mr. Sanchez handed out worksheets to write a short composition on, and you struggled to recall the correct word for ‘kitchen’. All of your attempts to remember the pictures at the back of your flashcards came to nothing, finally forcing you to turn around and ask with a heavy sigh.

"Um, hey," you began, wincing at the softness of your voice. "What’s ‘kitchen’ in Spanish? You remember?"

Miles looked at you with only his eyes. " ‘Cocina’."

No puns, no off-hand comment. Not even an offer to help further. He just quietly returned to his work. 

Your plan was already falling apart now that he no longer initiated conversations for you to brush off, so you went with the next best thing: competing with him.

“Who was able to solve for the trajectory of–oh!”

The AP Physics instructor pushed back a strand of red hair as she glanced between you and Miles, whose hands had shot up at the same time.

“Let’s go with someone who hasn’t spoken yet. Ms. L/N?”

You smiled as you answered, “24.7 meters per second.”

“Excellent job, Y/N, and thank you for participating today. Now, would anyone else…”

As the woman called on other students, a strategy began to take shape. 

It wasn’t hard to tell when Miles was about to raise his hand. His eyes would go wide, with a tiny smile that said he was certain that no one else could get this question right but him. His hand went up so fast that you had to answer before the teacher could even finish their question, but it worked. And it got you a few extra points for participation.

“Now, who can tell me what makes the film ‘Romeo + Juliet’ so unique?” asked the English professor.

Miles raised his hand. “It takes the original play and reinterprets aspects of the original plot for modern audiences.”

As soon as he answered, his eyes flickered towards you almost as if on cue. Sure enough, your hand flew up.

“Y/N, what a surprise! Care to add on?”

“Of course. The director, Baz Luhrmann,” you met Miles’ gaze as you specified the name, “used his over-the-top cinematic style of directing to bring the drama of the original play to life in a contemporary context. He replaced the swords with guns and balls for parties, but kept the dialogue the same so that audiences could better understand Shakespeare without needing to grapple with the work of translating Shakespearean English into modern English. He found a way to make the play accessible without compromising on the text.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at you while the stocky teacher made a noise of approval.

“Very succinct explanations, you two. I’m very impressed with you especially, Miss L/N. I hope to hear your voice more often in class.”

You noticed Miles still glaring, and rested your chin in the palm of your hand.

In a sickly-sweet tone, you whispered, “What?” 

He shook his head and turned away.

-

“Alright, make sure you go home and memorize those formulas! See you Wednesday!”

You neatly stacked your papers and slid them carefully into one of your labeled folders as the bell rang, marking the end of your last class.

The hallway bustled with students rushing like bees to their lockers. On the way to your own, a pop of color catches your eye. 

It’s a bulletin board filled with sign-ups for a number of clubs, from cheerleading to student government to debate. Remembering your college counselor’s comment about your extracurriculars “looking a bit empty”, you drew closer. Might as well, right?

You didn’t have the stamina for cheerleading, but speech and debate looked promising. Just as you took out a pen to sign your name, though, you stopped short and frowned.

At the very bottom of the list read the name ‘Miles Morales’ written with a neon highlighter. 

Then again on the art club’s flier. And anime club. And music engineering. 

‘Miles Morales’.

‘Miles Morales’.

‘Miles Morales’.

Guess you weren’t the only one who needed to beef up their transcript.

“Show-off,” you muttered to yourself. 

Just as you were about to lose hope, there was one other club that Miles hadn’t signed up for, hanging precariously off of the edge of the board from a single thumbtack:

Theater. 

And auditions were the very next day.

[screamintoad]

Heartfelt Evening

A/n: I listened to Frank Sinatra and Abba while writing this. You’re welcome

  It had been a long day and Blanche was happy to finally be back in her dorm room. She went across the room to her desk where an old record player sat, she easily picked out a vinyl and set it on the player to have some background noise while she got ready for bed. She went through the mental list of things that Vil lectured her to do every evening, although she didn’t do everything to a T depending on how tired she was.

  Today wasn’t necessarily bad, merely busy. Between classes, other first years getting up to mischief, and club activities, she was really tired. After she put on her nightgown she threw her uniform into a laundry hamper and slumped over at her desk. 

  She sighed as her cheek pressed against the cool wood. A knock from her door caused her to jolt upright. 

  “Who is it?” She called out.

  “Certainly not a knight who comes bearing an offering to the fair princess.” Hearing the soft voice reply made her giggle. There was only one guy in the entire school who would pay her a visit at this time, or at all.

  She gleefully walked over to answer the door and sure enough, there stood Silver. He offered a warm smile and held out a covered plate, a vibrantly colored freesia sat on top of it. Her cheeks hurt as her smile widened even more. Blanche looked between him and the plate before taking it and letting him in. 

  As poised as ever, he was still in his dorm uniform and stood in the center of the room. She gestured for him to sit on her bed as she sat back down at her desk. The flower felt delicate between her fingers, “I’m thinking of you too.” She mumbled as heat rose to her cheeks. Quickly, Blanche leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Silver’s cheek. He leaned into it as she pulled away.

  Shifting her attention towards the plate she pulled off the aluminum foil to unveil fresh muffins. He pushed himself up off the very comfortable bed and stood behind her as she took a bite out of one. Silver raked his fingers through her hair until she handed him a long blue ribbon. He happily took it and began braiding her hair. 

  They remained quiet for a few moments, enjoying the calm atmosphere and music. Eventually though, a question popped up in Blanche’s mind. “You’re in your dorm uniform, meaning you have patrol, like every night.” Silver hummed in acknowledgment since he didn’t want to lose his focus. “So then why did you come all the way to my dorm room?” She wondered, “Simple, I wanted to tell you goodnight.” He certainly answered like it was simple. 

  “Usually you just text me goodnight.” She replied. He leaned down and kissed her head, “I know. But, I never want you to feel as if I’m neglecting you.” As if he didn’t just completely wreck her heart with that sentence and affection, he continued his ministrations and tied off the ribbon at the end of the thick braid. Blanche comfortably leaned back into him when he finished. “I love you too much!” She exclaimed. He pulled her into a tight hug, “There’s no such thing as too much love.” He stated. 

  “But what if-“ No. He’s not like her father. 

  Somehow, she squeezed him even tighter.

  Yet eventually, he squeezed her shoulders as a sign that he had to leave. Albeit hesitantly she let go and walked him to her door. “I’ll come by in the morning so we can eat together before classes begin. Is that okay?” She nodded with excitement for the next day, “Of course, I’m glad you were able to visit tonight.” “So am I.” He placed his hands on her cheeks and leaned in. 

  It wasn’t their first kiss, or second, or even third, but it felt magical regardless. That buzzing, warm feeling followed Blanche long after they parted. “Goodnight, my princess.” He finally bid her goodnight and went on his way. 

  As she shut the door she could’ve sworn it all felt like a dream. But it wasn’t. 

  She’s finally found her happily ever after.

[suckitsurveys]

Are any of your friendships on a fine line? No. One just kind of ended though. I feel a little shitty about it but this girl did NOT respect my boundaries and I tried talking to her about it several times and she refused to listen so I just kind of stopped talking to her and she finally got the hint and deleted me off of all social media.

If I search your room will I find birth control? No.

Do you expect any of your ex’s to call or text you? Nope.

Have you ever witnessed a birth? Yes, my older niece’s. It was wild.

Where’s your favorite place to be when you feel depressed? With Mark and our kitties.

Are you currently looking forward to tomorrow? Nothing really. It’ll just be one day closer to the girls trip we’ve been planning for a year.

When was the last time you held someone’s hand? Yesterday.

Have you ever faked sick? Oh yeah.

Do you wear hoodies to bed? Not hoodies, I’d feel like I was being choked. But I’ve worn crew necks to bed before.

Are you currently wearing jeans? Yes.

Do you buy eggnog around the holidays? Why is this the second survey in like 4 days that’s asked me about eggnog?? Anyway, we usually get some.

Have you gone to a coffee shop within the past week? [i.e. Starbucks] I don’t think I have.

Would you like to be able to read thoughts? If I could control it sure.

Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Nah.

Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? I’m not sure.

Do you think baseball is a dying professional sport in America? Definitely not in my family.

Does playing the guitar make a guy more attractive? Eh. Depends on the guy.

Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes.

What does your hair look like at the moment? I HATE the color SO much but I didn’t want to dye it and have it fade right away in the sun/chlorine.

Are you mad right now? No, just tired.

Who did you spend your summer with last year? Mostly my family and friends.

Did you eat a cookie today? No.

Have you heard of wreck this journal? Yes, I have one somewhere.

Do you know any one who lives in California? Yes.

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Yes.

What do you put on your baked potatoes? Butter and sour cream for sure. Sometimes chives and cheese.

Have you ever been on a farm? Yes.

Who are the last three texts/dms you received from? Margo, Lolly, Mark.

What are you listening to? Nothing.

Are you one to take naps? Nope. They make me feel gross.

Did you ever have braces? Nope.

Have you kissed anyone in the last five days? Yes.

Are you afraid of flying? No. It makes me a little uneasy, sure, but overall I don’t mind it.

Do you have freckles? On my arms.

Do you have plans for today? Work and then I have to finish cleaning my dad’s to prepare for my friends staying there this week with me until we leave for the Dells on Friday.

Would you rather date someone five years older or five years younger than you? My husband is 5 years older than me.

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? He’s sleeping or just getting up.

If you had to live off one type of fruit, which would you pick? Probably avocado.

What were you doing at 7:45AM this morning? It hasn’t hit that quite yet lol.

What was the last thing you drank? Iced Coffee.

Where did you get the shirt your wearing? Torrid.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Nope, I have work at 6 am.

How often do you drink Monster? Never, I don’t like how energy drinks taste.

Are you easy to get along with? Yeah.

Are you short? 5'2".

Can you ever get enough of mac ‘n’ cheese? Nope, I love mac n cheese.

Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? Nope.

Do you have trust issues? Yes, in that certain people have let me down time after time when I’ve asked them to take care of something or help me with something.

Is there someone you want to let go of? My fucking brother in law but unfortunately I’m stuck with him.

Do you have any regrets? Eh.

Has anyone ever called the cops on you? Yes.

How old are you? 34.

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? I did actually. Margo and I were chatting on twitter until we fell sleep.

Do you go to church every Sunday? Nope, I never go.

Can you recall the last time you liked someone? Right now.

Do you like your height? I’m fine with it. It’s never negatively impacted my life.

Is the last person of the opposite sex you texted single? He is not. He’s married to me.

Could you go a week without brushing your teeth? I have before, depression is fun y’all.

What day is it? Monday.

Are you usually awake at midnight? Not usually. I tend to pass out between 10pm-11pm on work nights. On weekends I’ll usually be up until at least midnight.

Does it get really cold where you live? Yes.

When you get home from school / work do you change into your pjs right away? My pants and bra usually come right off lol.

Have you ever been peer pressured to smoke pot? I wasn’t pressured into it, no.

Have you ever played the game Sims 3? Nope.

What is the temperature currently in the town you live in? 64F.

Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Rarely. This was actually in another survey I did recently too. Who is making these? Lol. Anyway, I will drink it with a PB&J or Oreos or something every once in a while.

If you don’t have one already, would you consider getting an iPhone? Nope.

What year were you born in? 1989.

[jinlizz-dragondrama]

TW: mentions of bullying, blood, slight cursing, and revenge plotting

Happy 4th of July!! I can't believe that this chapter has 2k words. Enjoy this chapter 💜

Chapter 6

Not Mrs. Cuddles

A few weeks go by after the "incident", and I only found out about it thanks to me hounding April on her sus behavior, hints about Donnie and I. She sent me a picture of us snuggled together and I couldn't help but blush darker than Raph's bandana. I've been busy with swim practice, ninja training and tons of studying getting ready for mid term

exams. But during my breaks in between studying and training, I'd stare at the picture and a smile would grace my face.

Cass comes into my room one day with a small package in her hand. She flops onto my bed while I'm doodling on my art pad and listening to music. Even with music on I was able to sense she came into my room, I pull my headphones off, turned my computer chair in her direction, and smile at her. Handing me a package I quickly open it and see the brown contacts I ordered finally came. Quickly running into my bathroom I place them on my eyes, it was a bit uncomfortable at first but slowly start to get used to them. I come out of the bathroom batting my eyelashes at Cass showing them off, she rolls her eyes.

"I don't get why you're letting those jerks get to you, they are just jealous of your natural beauty. Besides you can kick their butts and I'll help you hide the bodies" she says while folding her arms.

I sigh knowing she's right but I want to blend in and have a normal school life, but judging from the recommended teenage TV shows being bullied is a "normal" occurrence. I just couldn't deal with it anymore and was tired of crying myself to sleep feeling like a freak.

*Time skip brought to you by smug Leo*

Finally, I drop my mechanical pencil onto my completed Computer Labs test. Today was so stressful.with all.the tests i had to take, but it was fun to take Mr. Miller's advice and write my answers the way he taught us which wasted several sheers of paper to get my answer. But hey who am i to argue with a teacher. Quickly checking over my answers, I hand my test to Mrs. Anthony. She's a pretty cool teacher especially since she's pregnant and brings a bunch of homemade goodies for us to snack on! I grab one of her latest bags of treats chocolate chip cookies (if you don't like chocolate chip cookies, I am so sorry). I give her the peace sign and walk out of the classroom. While I wait for April to finish up with her text I open up the group chat between the turtles, April and I.

Green Apple: Hey guys are we still on to watch me during my TV show appearance?

Leon Neon: I'm only watching if Y/N is there

Mikey: Totally can't wait to see it

Donnie: 👌🏾 (Imagine the emoji was green lol)

Raph: Gotta support our best bud

Me: I'm so there

It's a nice change of pace to hang out with the guys and April. Hopefully, no one will bring up the snuggle sesh and the night will go smoothly. Once April joins me in the hallway we fist bump, as we get outside I clink my sneaker heels together and sloely glide on the gum infested sidewalk and make our way to our designated alleyway with a manhole that leads us to the lair. I notice that she gives me quick glances and after the third one I look at her.

"What do you think, is brown my color?" I ask.

"Uh sure, but D- I mean I prefer your natural eye color, it's very unique and well....you" she said

I mull over her words until we jump down the manhole and cover it back up, I could walk these sewers with my eyes closed. We get inside the lair and head into the living room where Splinter is watching his Scorpion Treadmill show. Honestly, it is a pretty funny show, sometimes Splinter and I would watch and laugh together.

We say hey to the boys and I look over at Donnie and he gives me a shy smile, which I return. He notices my brown eyes but doesn't say anything about them, while making a mental note to ask April about it.

Fingers crossed this won't be awkward

"Congrats on the acting gig! I'm so happy I could punch a rainbow" Raph says proudly.

"It's just a tiny basic cable show," April says

"Not so tiny it knocks Scorpion Treadmill out of its time slot," Splinter said annoyed at his show time being cut short. I couldn't help but chuckle a little.

Leo then appears out of nowhere and has Raph sit in the front row, I quirk an eyebrow but watch to see what happens. Raph takes a seat and the program starts, April appears on the screen and introduces a stuffed Bunny animatronic thing...named Mrs. Cuddles. Immediately I see Raph stuffed up and hearing that high-pitched voice made my skin crawl.

"Let's be fwends forever" Mrs Cuddles said

Raph jumps over Splinter's lazy boy recliner screaming "Nooooooo, not Mrs. CUDDLES!". Splinter breaks into a fit of laughter while his other three sons and April laugh. After Raph unsuccessfully tries to explain that he isn't scared of Mrs. Cuddles April suggests that he should go make a sandwich. Quickly leaving the room he goes to the kitchen to start on his sandwich, I follow him to grab a (pop/water) from the fridge. I open my drink once I grab it and as I take a sip Raph opens a cupboard and out pops Mrs. Cuddles in the flesh. As Raph jumps back I spit out my drink from shock, he backs up into the kitchen island, and several pots fall on his head. The gang comes out of their hiding spots and April explains how the boys knew Raph would freak out so they decided to do an innocent prank.

"No hard feelings big brother, let's be fwends forever," Donnie says in a Mrs. Cuddles voice.

I clean up the spill that I spat onto the floor and nearby counter, we both look up to see that she's gone. But turning around she's on the counter with a nicely made sandwich on a plate infront of her. Raph takes a bite of the sandwich and all of a sudden she's waving a pickle about and talking.

"It's alive!" Raph shouts and drops the sandwich

"This is some Five Nights of Freddy shit!" I yell as I drop my bottled water.

She starts to grow and a maniacal laugh echo from her. Apparently thanks to her villain monologue she grows from screams. We scream for the gang to come back to see that she's alive but like in most horror movies with the same scenario she goes limp and doesn't react.

"Not you too Y/N I thought you were better than this, feeding into Raphs fear," Leo says as he shakes his head.

In turn, this makes the rest of them roll their eyes and leave the room. When they leave we look to where we left her and she was gone. Raph rushes into the living room to warn his dad, as he makes a quick exit Splinter says very annoyingly "I will never marry them off" but I'm too scared to react as I search around for her. Raph finds Leo, Mikey, and April in the arcade and lets them know he can't find her. April goes to the kitchen looking for her, she hears her and assumes that it's Raph impersonating Mrs. Cuddles but she finds out that it's her talking, as April screams Mrs. Cuddles begins to grow again. Mrs. Cuddles then finds Donnie and gets him to scream by slicing the head off a bust that looks like him. We hear him scream and rush to investigate but are ambushed by her while she's swinging a chainsaw at us. While she swipoed st us she knicks my cheek a bit and a dropplet of blood rolls down. Consumed with fear my eyes glow, the contacts I'm wearing melt away revealing my purple eyes and I unleash my water-bending powers forming a water fist and punching her into a corner, Raph looks at me in awe but is brought back to the fight when she charges at us and he smacks her with Donnie's bust head. With her being knocked out we toss her into a locker and block the door to it. Leo and Mikey look on with a shrug and decide to go skateboarding. Splinter distracts us by having us get weapons to defeat her and unknowingly lets her loose while grabbing his blanket. When we get back we see she's gone.

Last but not least she finds Leo and Mikey which was a plus for her as Mikey is the best screamer that astronauts could hear, She ties them up and leaves them in a room. We find her in the skateboarding room and she's huge. She begins to attack by pulling a water pipe and the water splashes Raph but I'm able to bend it away from me. Splinter starts to laugh and she starts to shrink, Raph and I look at each other knowingly as we let Splinter laugh at his dad's jokes and we dodge her punches. Finally, she's back to her normal size and Raoh tosses her into her trunk. We hear the crew calling out for help but we ignore their calls and laugh.

"That'll teach them to think twice before pranking you and not believing me," I say while giggling.

After an hour or so I walk into the room where the gang is tied up. I'm wearing my peace sign pajamas (pictured above), my hair is tied into a long braid and I have a small band-aid on my cheek. I walk in smugly while munching on a piping-hot slice of pizza. Mikey was lying limp against everyone his stomach growls until he sniffs the air and looks in my direction, tears of relief start to bubble in his eyes. My eyes glow for a brief moment and I use his tears to create a sharp and swift slice against the ropes that release them from their prison, they all stand up and stretch their aching limbs. Donnie can see that my eyes are back to their beautiful violet color and it brings a small smile to his face.

"Pizza and Lou Jitsu movies are waiting for you guys in the living room," I say while smirking and I wiggle my index finger signaling for the water to wrap around it like a ring as I leave the room.

Mikey and Leo chase after me babbling a bunch of questions at once. Shrugging my shoulders and acting like I don't know what they are talking about. Donnie and April just stare at me with gaping mouths but they soon follow. While I'm watching the movie snuggled in a blanket on a bean bag chair April and Donnie are texting each other about why I wore contacts, he doesn't realize that he has one of his fists balled up tightly with his nails digging into his palm until April nudges him. Relaxing his hand he decides he going to see who these jerks are and keep a close eye on them. Soon there was only one slice of pizza left, we all glare at eachother, I quickly reach out for the slice, Donnies hand touches mine, we look up at each other and pink tints both of our cheeks but I flick my index finger with the water ring and use it the whip at Donnies hand and causes him to recoil his hand back. I giggle and rush out of the room with the slice, Donnie quickly gives chase with Tech Bo in hand. The rest of the gang give knowing looks and continue with the movie. I hear the patter of his feet as he chases after me, running out of the tunnel.and into the slate boarding room I hop over the safety bar and slide down the half pipe while giggling. Donnie activates his battle shell and he hovers next to me while I slide.

"This was fun and all but now I'll be taking that" he says smugly

But I push myself off the half pipe, jump off Donnies battle shell and jump off it creating a small pile of snow from the moisture in the air on the ground, while I'm falling he grabs my hand but I pull him down with me. We land onto the soft pile of snow, he lands onto of me with an "oof". After the snowdust settles we realize our noses are almost touching and my face turns beet red and his face was no better.

Snow is still falling gently around us, I start to awkwardly laugh and he soon follows. He rolls off of me and scratches the back of his neck.

I sit up and take a bite of my slice, "Well let's build a snow man and call me Elsa because the cold never bothered me anyway" I sing (Gotta love the Elsa reference)

"Hmmmm that doesn't suit you, how about Aquatina? Its kind of princess like and it goes well with your power which I will def have lots of questions about." He says while making a snowball.

"I like it maybe Aqua for short" I say smiling with a mouth full of pizza.

We fist bump, I melt the snow and start to make my way back to the living room as my back is turned he tosses the snowball at me. I turn around smiling at him.

"Oh just you wait til it's winter time I'll get my revenge" I say while laughing like a mad scientist as I skip away.

Donnie smiles as he watches me and shakes his head, places his arms behind his head, and follows me.

[velvetreds]

05. aftereffects

you're forced to ignore any feelings of insecurity when you pile into osamu's car with atsumu and rintarou. sakusa drives alone — "no one's throwing up inside my car" — so you're stuck in the back of osamu's one with both your brothers in the front. rintarou looks at you almost appreciatively, and your stomach twists, a lethal tangle of fire and butterflies.

"what?" you ask.

"nothing," he replies plainly. "you look nice today."

you almost choke on air. "what?"

"it's called a compliment, dumbass," he deadpans, before going back to scrolling on his phone. you find it difficult to stay upset after this little interaction, and even more so when he shifts to a more comfortable position. where it's as if his knee is purposely jutted out to brush against yours.

"are you sure this is a good idea?" kiyoomi's brows are furrowed as he stares at atsumu, who's drunkenly fiddling with the television remote. hearing him talk, he turns back to grin at the two of you.

"omiii," he whines. "let's have some fun for once, guys!"

and for whatever reason, kiyoomi doesn't argue after this.

the five of you are at atsumu and kiyoomi's apartment, where you're apparently going to watch a movie — courtesy of atsumu. that is, until he realises that he's lost his phone.

"you can't use mine," says rintarou from where he's situated beside you. you don't know why he's choosing to sit beside you when there's so much space elsewhere, but it's not like you can complain, either. but then kiyoomi nods in agreement, and osamu's one is dead, so only you are left.

"no way," you say, but a moment later you're syncing your phone up to the TV. when it finally connects, you breathe a sigh of relief and turn the movie on. it's short-lived, though, because it suddenly refuses to start. so you try again. and again. and again, and you hear rintarou groan. a second later, your screen — still projected on the television — freezes before going from landscape to portrait mode, and a bunch of notifications pop up on your screen. behind you, suna chokes.

you're not sure why or how everything finishes so fast, but one second you're trying to fix the TV, and the next you're on the way home.

"i have to go," says rintarou suddenly. "i don't feel that good." the movie is forgotten, and osamu offers to drop you off, but you decline — you don't think you have it in you to spend another second with him. and when you get home, you plop down on your bed, finally able to text your anonymous online friend back.

series masterlist

authors note(s) !

first pic is rins phone second is yns

he was like,, kinda tipsy at first btw?? IDK HOW DRINKING WORKS IM A MINOR

oshit he knows!!!!!!

ASK ME HOW I MADE THE NOTIFS!!1!1 DO THEY LOOK REAL

also filler chapter but this was so necessary

i havent forgotten ab the insecurities n stuff we'll see more of that topic AGAIN in meet me at the 7-11

i passed with so many flying colors they thought i was gay

my mom thinks my profile banner is also gay like this post if you agree with her

taglist is open ! (40/50)

@wooasecret @yuminako @dawnisatotalqueen @thechaosoflonging @boogiemansbitch @chloiyoomi @mikauraurr @just-coreee @chemiru @twiishaa @imcheshire @zozodahobo @fallenisded @nyxlai @sp1ng @sunsribn @sellomaybe @savemebrazilhinata @semieita24rockstargf @marsoverthestars @bellsoftheball @renardiererin @akaakeis @dazqa @piopioo @theepitomeofswag @smellysluna @theycallmenanamisgirl @strxbxrrylover @whydoyoucare866 @jiawji @toges-cough-syrup @harmonia-dread @dailyakira @staymoarmyzen @loverlunaire @akaashislovee @lovelymuffin @wtfdudewhydidyoutakemyusername @kazuubaby

comment or send an ask to be tagged <33

likes n rbs r appreciated <3 thank you !

© iiwaijime 2024

[wrenreid]

Better Off Broken PART TWO

this is the second and final part to better off broken, so click the link to read that first

synopsis: Spencer Reid finally gets a chance to meet his little boy’s teacher after always being away on a case for all the other opportunities. Though, the single father Dr. Reid was not expecting his son’s kindergarten teacher to be a charming young woman who might possibly make him forget the vow he took to swear off romantic involvements. (dual point of view). (not edited so excuse errors)

content warnings: past relationship trauma, a little bit of self deprecation, 18+ scenes, fluff…

Spencer and I have been texting quite a bit lately. It’s usually just to catch up and talk about Atlas, but it’s still nice.

I want to ask him out on a real date, but I’m not even sure how I would go about that. We’ve only known each other a month and a half, and I don’t even know if he feels the same way I do. I’m not sure if I want to know.

If I don’t know how he feels, I can keep this little fantasy in my head where we’re secretly pining after each other.

But every time we text or he comes into my classroom when he’s picking Atlas up (which has only been twice, but it still happened), I think about asking him out, just ripping the bandaid off.

I feel something between us, a type of connection, but I don’t know if he feels it too. We get a little flirty sometimes (or at least I think it’s flirty), but it never goes past that. It’s always just a few smiles and some slightly suggestive - not in a sexual way - words, but never more than that.

The Valentine’s day party is coming up, and Spencer has already told me he’ll be there. I’m excited to see him again, but I worry that I’ll make it obvious that I like him. Although, maybe I should make it obvious. Maybe I should ask him out that day. It would be pretty ballsy. I think I’m just going to fucking do it.

—————

“Are you excited for the Valentine’s day party, Atlas?” I ask my son as I lace up my red converse.

He’s already dressed and waiting for me by the door, per usual. He nods, checking his watch. This kid is so much like me, it’s scary.

“Since it’s not until later, I’ll drop you off then I’m going to pick up some supplies just in case Ms. Y/n needs more, okay?”

“Okay,” Atlas says with one nod of his head.

“You’re a man of many words, A,” I chuckle softly, a bright smile on my face. I adore this little boy with every ounce of my being.

Atlas waits for me to finish getting ready then he grabs my hand and we head down to my car. Eventually, I’ll get us a house. I’ve been saving half of my paycheck every month for things like that. Maybe I’ll buy a house in the suburbs close to the school. I think Atlas would like to have a backyard to himself. Not that he’s the type of kid to play outside in the dirt, but he likes to read outside and listen to the birds chirp.

I convinced Atlas to wear a red button up today just to be a little festive. He agreed even though he usually wears blue on Tuesdays.

I drive him to school and make sure he gets to the building okay before I head to the store. I’ve never stepped foot in a Hobby Lobby, but I want to help Y/n just in case she needs it.

I grab a bunch of little Valentine’s day decorations for the kids to put on their boxes. I definitely look silly doing this, but I don’t mind.

“These for anyone special?” The young lady at the register asks me as she scans the items.

“I-uh no. They’re for my son’s class,” I say, but my cheeks turn the color of the red hearts. They’re technically for Y/n, and she is someone special. But I barely admit that to myself, let alone out loud.

“You’re a dad? There’s no way, you look so young,” she chuckles softly, twirling her hair around her finger.

She’s flirting with me. I used to not be able to detect things like that, but I’ve gotten better at reading people. Being a behavioral analyst helped with that.

“Thanks,” I say nonchalantly and pay for the decorations. I leave quickly then head to the grocery store to get some cookies for the class.

Eventually, it’s time to head to the school for the party. I’m one of the first parents there.

“Dr. Reid,” Y/n smiles and takes the box of cookies I bought. “You are just a helpful man, huh?”

I grin softly. “I do the best I can.”

“Nice tie,” she looks up at me, taking my pink tie in her hand. I resist the urge to tell her to pool me down by it then kiss her right then and there. Good thing I’m a professional at self control now.

“Thank you,” I chuckle slightly.

Eventually, all the parents that could make it are here and we start helping the kids decorate their card boxes.

Atlas and I made cards last night for all his classmates. We put little heart shaped suckers into the animal themed Valentine’s Day cards.

It takes nearly two hours for all the kids to finish decorating their boxes, the classroom is a mess of paper, glitter glue, felt hearts, and more. The kids go around, slipping their cards into everyone’s boxes.

Atlas seems to be having a good time. He decorated his box as neatly as he could. He’s very particular about things.

Eventually, the kids clean up a little bit and school is let out. The parents say goodbye to Ms. Y/n and the other parents, and it’s just me, Atlas, and Y/n in here.

“The parties always make my room a wreck,” she laughs softly, brushing her hair out of her face.

“We can help clean up,” I say.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ve got this,” she assures me.

“Hmm. Nope. I think we’re going to help. Aren’t we, Atlas?”

My son nods. “Mhm.”

Y/n chuckles, shaking her head. God, I’ve got to stop staring at her.

“Fine, but no complaining since you wanted this, Dr. Reid,” she points an accusing finger at me.

I raise my hands in the air innocently. “Yes ma’am.”

Atlas and I help her clean up for at least half an hour. Kids are messy.

“Thank you so much,” Y/n sighs, tossing her hair out of her face. “You’re an angel.”

Little does she know she looks like an angel, and I’d like her to show me heaven for a night.

I blush, and look down at my shoes. “I’m always happy to help.”

“Atlas did you have fun?” She asks.

“Yes ma’am,” he nods, a slight smile on his face. He’s holding his decorated box.

She smiles at him. “Good!” Then she turns her attention back to me. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Mhm. But you’re not allowed to look at it until you get home.”

“Well, now I’m intrigued,” I chuckle.

“No cheating, doc.” She grabs something from her desk then slips it into my front pocket.

I can’t help but notice the smell of her hair and tingle at her touch, even if it was through clothes. It’s been way too long since I’ve been touched. Lily was the last person I even kissed.

And as much as I want to pull Y/n into me right now, I have a promise to keep. A promise to myself and to my son.

“Do not open it until you’re home,” she says again, stern voiced.

“Okay, okay,” I laugh softly.

She grins up at me. “Drive safe.”

“You too. Are you leaving right now, we can walk you out?”

“No, I’ve got to do some lesson planning. But thank you for the offer,” Y/n says sweetly.

Atlas and I make it home about fifteen minutes later, and he sits down on the couch with a book.

“What are you thinking for dinner, bud?” I ask him, looking in the fridge for what I could cook later.

“Spaghetti,” he tells me. “What did the note say?”

“Note?” I know what he’s talking about, but for some reason I feel the need for him to clarify.

“From Ms. Y/n.”

“I haven’t read it yet,” I tell him.

“She said to open it when you get home. We’re home.”

I laugh a little. He’s a very straight forward young man.

“I’ll open later, buddy,” I say, looking over at him sitting on the couch. Well, I look at the back of his head.

I take the beef out of the freezer for it to thaw then join my son on the couch. The note in my pocket is burning a hole through the fabric of my pants. I’m pretty certain I have an idea of what it says, and I’m not ready to reject her.

After dinner, while Atlas is in the shower - he showers on his own, but keeps the door open so I can hear if he needs me - I take the note out of my pocket. I unfold it and my heart both flutters and drops at the same time.

It doesn’t take me long to decipher the “code” of the note. She wrote the words “Will you go on a date with me?” using elements from the period table and only putting their atomic mass. She’s definitely using my love for chemistry to win me over.

It’s the cheesiest, most nerdy Valentine’s Day card I’ve ever seen. I would absolutely love it if six years ago I didn’t swear off relationships and dating. I do absolutely love it actually, but I can’t agree to what it asks.

As much as I want to ignore it and pretend like she didn’t ask me this question, I know I have to let her down sooner than later. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.

After I get Atlas to bed and I’m in my pjs, I call her. My stomach is knotted tightly. I hate myself for this.

—————

“Spencer, hey!” I answer the phone once I see his contact pop up on my screen. “You must’ve read the note.”

“I did,” he admits, but the tone in his voice makes me want to figure out a way to take the note back through the screen.

“And?” I question, my intestines tying themselves in knots.

He sighs. Shit. “Y/n… I- I can’t.”

“Right,” I laugh awkwardly. “You know, just- uh forget I asked. Which I guess technically I didn’t ask, the note did.” More awkward laughs spill out of me. “Anyway…”

“It’s not as if I don’t want to. I just can’t. I hope you understand?”

“Yeah, no, sure. Totally,” I ramble. Oh my God what am I saying? “It’s all good.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it makes me want to slam my head into the headboard behind me.

“No!” I practically yell into his ear. “No worries. It’s okay.”

“Okay…”

“It’s getting late, huh? I should probably go to bed. Goodnight.” I hang up before he can even get the ‘G’ sound out in response.

Embarrassing. As. Fuck.

How the hell am I going to see him again and not melt into a puddle of humiliation right in the spot?

And what the fuck does he mean by he ‘can’t’? He said it’s not that he doesn’t want to. So he wants to, but he can’t? What does he have a girlfriend I don’t know about? I feel like I would know if he did.

In my head, before I have him the note, this went a lot better. He got home and read it then called me right away with a date and a time he’d pick me up. I’d wear a pretty dress, one that I haven’t been able to wear in forever because I haven’t had an occasion to do so. He would wear a suit like he was the first time I met him. We’d both agree to not have sex because it’s too soon, but he’d kiss me at the doorstep, maybe for a little too long.

But movies, books, and tv are fucking liars because instead of that, I got a “I can’t.” What the hell kind of story is this?

I lean back into my bed and let out a dramatic sigh. I shouldn’t have asked him out. We could’ve just stayed friends.

I just thought I wasn’t alone in the attraction. I thought he felt something too. Apparently I am really bad at reading people. Good think he’s the profiler, and I’m not.

But hey, if I ruined our friendship at least it wasn’t a long standing one. We’ve only been friends for almost two months.

Still, I’ll be sad to see him go. He’s nice to talk to. He’s smart, intimidatingly so, and he’s the most gentlemanly person I’ve ever met. Every time we talk, he asks how I’m doing, and I know it’s not just a formality, he genuinely cares. And hell, he’s not a bad sight to look at. Okay, he’s a very pleasing sight to look at.

Maybe I was mistaking friendly feelings for the romantic kind, but we’ve been flirting for at least a month, so I thought we shared a mutual liking/attraction to each other.

Perhaps he’s the type to flirt with people and it mean nothing. Maybe he’s just one of those guys who’s friendly and accidentally flirts. I may never know because the only time I’ve seen him interact with other women was in the classroom, and he obviously wasn’t flirting with the moms.

But in order to not lose our friendship, I can pretend like I wasn’t embarrassed out of my mind as long as he can pretend I never asked him out. It can just be something we sweep under the rug and leave there to suffocate.

The next few weeks are still awkward, but Spencer and I still talk, well text. Written communication is much less confrontational than verbal.

Spencer: Do you want to grab lunch on Saturday? I need to talk to you.

Oh fuck, here we go. The awkward “You’ve ruined our friendship, and it’s not the same anymore” talk. I know this one all too well because my I had to have it with one of my old best friends.

We were friends for years and years, then out of the blue, he kissed me. Honestly, I always thought he was gay because he never had a girlfriend, but apparently it was because he liked me - or was in love with me as he claimed.

But we were best friends, and I couldn’t see him as anything else. He made a point to not talk to me after I rejected his kiss, and if we did talk, it was full of short, choppy sentences on his end.

Eventually, I had to give him the aforementioned talk. It was painful for both sides.

And now I feel it coming from Spencer.

Good thing Spring Break is now approaching, and I won’t have to face him or Atlas for a whole week, not that any of this has to do with Atlas.

“Y/n,” Spencer starts. His sitting across from me at the cafe we chose to have lunch at. He looks amazing in the sweater he’s wearing, and I really wish I could put a bag over his head so I couldn’t see him; but then again I’d still see his body and his body is just as pretty as his face.

“Spencer,” I say awkwardly, trying to force out a little laugh.

He starts to talk at the same time I’m trying to say something else.

“Go ahead,” he says. Always the gentleman.

“No, you go,” I insist. “You said we need to talk, so you can talk.”

He sighs softly, some of his hair blowing back from the air. “I’m sorry.”

This time I do laugh a little. “You’re sorry? Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I made this so weird.”

“You made this weird? I’m the one who asked you out. If anyone made it weird, it’s me,” I say with another chuckle.

This time he joins me in the soft laugh. Spencer shakes his head. “No, no. You didn’t. I just didn’t know how to handle things after that. It’s on me for being immature about it.”

Stop making me fall for you, you asshat. “It’s not big deal. Really,” I say with an assuring smile.

He smiles back, and I’m pretty sure I could be blinded by that pretty of a sight. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “We can just pretend it never happened. I would say forget, but one of us has an eidetic memory.”

Spencer grins, rolling his eyes. “Well, that one sounds like a real pain in the ass.”

“He is,” I chuckle.

We’re back. I think.

He laughed too, and for a minute, we hold eye contact. Something in those hazel eyes tells me he wasn’t lying when he said “It’s not as if I don’t want to.” Because if I know men at all, and I’m pretty sure I do at least a little bit, it looks like Spencer definitely wants to go on that date, maybe more than that. His eyes rake down to my v neck of my top.

“Anyway,” I say with an awkward chuckle, breaking whatever the hell just happened between us. “How’s your sabbatical been?”

Spencer’s eyes snap back up to mine. “It’s been great. It’s really nice to get to be with Atlas, but I am ready to go back to work next week.”

“Next week already? Wow, time is flying by.”

“Yes, yes it is,” he nods. “Before we know it, the school year will be over”

“Oh God, don’t say that,” I laugh softly.

“I’m not ready for Atlas to be in grade school. How is he getting so old?” Spencer says, shaking his head with disbelief.

“It’s crazy how years go by so fast,” I agree. “I’m not ready to not have him in class. You didn’t hear this, but he’s my favorite.”

Spencer grins. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

—————

So I am a fucking dumbass. That’s the conclusion i’ve made after 40 years of being considered a genius.

I’m a dumbass because six years ago I made a promise, and now I want to break it. No, I crave to break it.

This woman is making me crazy. She’s consuming my mind, and the only way to not think about her is to distract myself with something else.

Which means it’s a good thing I’m back at work now. I’m on the jet, flying to Missouri and sitting next to Emily and Luke. I’m staring out the window and thinking about two things: Atlas and Y/n. Which seems to be my entire mind lately.

Atlas is at school, and Florence, his nanny, will he picking him up and taking care of him until I get home. I trust her, have for years, but every time I’m not there, I worry my mind off. Hell, I worry my mind off when I am there.

And then there’s Y/n. Y/n who every time I see, I want to grab her face in my hands and press my lips to hers. Y/n who I’d be willing to risked getting shamed upon for being with my son’s teacher just to be with her. Y/n who I can’t have because I can’t have anyone.

Maybe my promise was a good thing because I sure as hell don’t deserve her. She’s too good for me. In every way.

Maybe Lily was right to leave me. Maybe I’m too much or not enough. Y/n deserves better than what I could give her.

“You okay over there, kid?” Luke asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at me.

I glance over at him and nod. It’s a little funny how they still call me kid when I have my own child. That’s beside the point though.

“You sure? You look like you’re contemplating existence.”

“Maybe I am,” I shrug with a short laugh.

He looks at me even more worried.

“I was kidding, Luke.”

“But something’s up. I can tell,” he says.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll get over it.”

“If it’s got you looking like this, then it is a big deal,” Emily chimes in.

I look over to my right, giving her a thin lipped smile. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“Fine,” I groan. “It’s… a woman.”

“Oh my God. The good doctor has lady problems?” Luke laughs.

“And that’s why I was being quiet,” I roll my eyes.

“Ignore him, go on,” JJ says.

The entire jet is now interested in my issues. Great.

I take an exasperated breath. “I like this woman… really like her…”

“That doesn’t seem like an issue,” Emily says questioningly.

“Unless she doesn’t like you back?” Luke asks.

“Well, she asked me out,” I inform them.

JJ raised her brows. “Yeah, I’m really not seeing the problem here. The girl you like asked you out. Isn’t that a good thing?”

This does probably sound stupid. They don’t know the reason why I haven’t dated anyone since Lily. In fact, I don’t think they know the real reason why Lily and I broke up. Im sure they figured it out though.

Morgan knew. And it’s times like these where I wish I still saw him every day because I think he would understand what I’m trying to say right now.

“Because I can’t be with anyone.”

“What does that mean?” Rossi asks.

“I can’t date anyone. It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Because of Atlas?” JJ asks softly. “Because I know he’s young, but he’s mature. I think he would understand if you started dating someone. He’d understand that she isn’t his mom, but you care for her.”

JJ’s a mother. She gets this. Part of it at least.

“I can’t bring someone into his life that may not be there permanently,” I say in a low voice. “I don’t want him to be sad because I brought someone into his life that isn’t going to be there forever. He’s different. He doesn’t process things the way other people do.

I can tell by the way they’re looking at me that they know I’m not just talking about Atlas; I’m talking about myself. I let someone in that isn’t here to stay. I’m not sure if I can handle someone leaving again. Not after there’s been so many: my dad, Elle, Gideon, Emily more than once, and then Lily.

I hate the looks of sympathy my friends/coworkers are giving me. I want to hide away and push this out of my mind.

“Spencer,” Tara says gently. “You can’t not allow yourself to be happy just because there’s a chance at potential heartbreak. That’s just how life works. We let people in, and they either stay a part of our lives or they don’t. And nine times out of ten, when they don’t it’s a good thing.”

“Are those real statistics or guesses?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Spencer!” Emily rolls her eyes, but laughs a little.

“Sorry,” I chuckle. “Okay. Can we stop talking about my thing now? Let’s change the subject.”

“If you promise to think about it.”

“Think about what?” I ask.

“Letting her in. Giving it a chance,” Tara tells me.

I nod my head that’s that. We change the topic.

—————

It’s Spring Break, and Spencer and I haven’t talked in a week and a half. I’m not sure what’s up with him, but I don’t want to brother him in case he’s working.

So instead, I occupy my time with books, friends, and iced coffee. The usual, really.

I wish I knew what went on inside Spencer’s mind. At least about me. His words say one thing but his eyes say another.

He says he can’t and that we’re just friends, but when he thinks I’m not paying attention, I catch him looking at me for a little too long. I catch his eyes raking down my body. With any other man I’d be a little offended, but I want him to undress me with his eyes. I want him to picture me without my pretty blouses and cute pants. I want him to enjoy the thought.

I’m starting to think about him way too much. Maybe I’m touched starved or suffering from attention deprivation, but I want him even more now than I did before.

But I don’t just want him for his looks or for his sex appeal. I want him for him. Because he’s a great person, and I think he’d make an excellent boyfriend.

But maybe he doesn’t want a girlfriend. Maybe he just wants to stay single or focus on Atlas, which is totally understandable. Or maybe he’s had a bad history with relationships; I may not be a profiler like him, but I kind of sense some relationship baggage. And then there’s the possibility that he just doesn’t like me, but (not to sound cocky) I doubt it.

Maybe I should just quit pining over him. Men with emotional baggage aren’t exactly the best in relationships. They’re projectors. I don’t think Spencer would be this way, but I don’t really know do I?

The much needed week off is way too short, and I’m back in the classroom with the kiddos. After math and science, I let them tell me and each other what they did over the break.

Atlas says his daddy was gone to work, but he seems happy when the kids say his dad being an FBI agent is really cool.

Speaking of his dad, I wonder how he’s doing or if he’s back home. We haven’t texted in a while, and I’m starting to feel like I’ve done something wrong. I decide to text him to see what’s up.

—————

Y/n’s name and number pop up on my phone screen, and I can’t help but smile a little. I’ve missed her.

Y/n: Hey, what’s up?

Spencer: Just waiting for school to get out. I got home late yesterday, so Atlas was already in bed.

Y/n: Awh I’m sorry. I’m sure he’s excited to see you. And this is going to sound a little silly but I almost thought you ghosted me.

Ghosting: When a person cuts off all communication with their friends or the person they're dating, with zero warning or notice before hand.

I know this slang term from being around the younger generations so much on cases.

A ping of guilt jabs me in the chest. She thought I was blowing her off. I find myself not wanting her to feel any type of sadness ever again.

Spencer: What? No, of course not. I’ve just been busy.

Y/n: If you want to get together to catch up, I’m free this weekend?

Spencer: I don’t think I can this weekend. I’m taking Atlas to the zoo. He likes animals.

I realize it may sound like I’m blowing her off.

Spencer: Next weekend may work for me though. If the offer still stands?

Y/n: See you next weekend:)

I smile to myself.

I haven’t been that busy. Well, I have but not too busy to not text. The truth is, I’ve been avoiding her a little. I still don’t know what to do about the promise and me liking her, so I’ve been pushing her aside. I feel bad, really bad, but I don’t know what else to do.

For all I know, she’s probably lost interest in me by now. I turned her down, and I know some people are able to move on really fast after that. What if she’s already seeing someone else?

Now, a ping of jealousy jabs at my chest.

God, I’m a mess.

“So how was work?” Y/n asks me, a friendly smile on her face. A smile I have grown to adore.

“It was good. This case took a little longer than expected, but overall it was successful,” I inform her.

She nods, taking a sip from her coffee.

“How was your work?” I ask.

“It’s been good. The kids are progressing, some more than others, but that’s how it always is,” she says.

Just as I’m about to say something else, she says, “I think the school is talking about moving Atlas up to second grade next year, but you didn’t hear that from me. They’re planning to call you and see what your thoughts are.”

“Really?” I grin softly. “Wow. I mean he’s already younger than the kids in his class, but I suppose that’s a hypocritical reason for me to say no. I was 12 when I graduated.”

“High school?” Her pretty eyes widen at me.

I can’t help but chuckle. “Mhm.”

“Damn, Spencer. I knew you were brilliant, but damn. That’s five years younger than I was. Five whole years,” she laughs with disbelief.

I blush, enjoying the slight praise she’s giving me.

The lunch goes on, and the two of us talk about whatever our words lead to next.

“Hey, Atlas,” I call for my son then pat the couch cushion next to me. “Come here.”

He puts his action figure down and joins me on the couch.

“I have to ask you something.”

“What?” He looks up at me curiously.

“So you know how I told you promises are meant to be kept?”

He nods, looking at me as if to ask “Where is this going, Dad?”

“So Daddy made a promise a while ago, and I’m not sure if I should still keep it.”

“It depends on the promise,” he says. Not what I was expecting. “Would breaking it hurt anyone?”

“Not physically, but there’s a potential that it might emotionally later down the road,” I tell him.

Atlas ponders on that.

“But it may not. And it may make me very happy.”

“If it makes you happy, then I think it’s okay. But I don’t know, you did promise.”

Exactly where I’m at on this situation, kid.

“What if I did a trial run, huh?” I ask. “I break the promise just for a little bit, and if it goes well, the promise is long forgotten.”

“But, Daddy you said you don’t forget anything.”

“Metaphorically forgotten,” I correct myself.

He nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Atlas nods again. “What was the promise?”

“How about I tell you if it’s metaphorically forgotten?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Fine. Can I go read now?”

“Yep,” I nod and ruffle his wavy hair.

I’m going to talk to her soon. I’m going to break, well, bend the promise. If things go smoothly, then it’s broken for good. But if not, then I’ll put a bandaid on that damn promise and never bend it again.

That’s a lot of pressure.

Good thing Easter is coming up. Y/n isn’t having a full easter party for the kids and parents, but I know she’s doing something for just the kids. So I have a plan.

—————

I’m done with this shit. I know there’s something between us, and he can’t deny it anymore. He can turn me down again, but he can’t say there isn’t some type of spark going through the both of us.

Text time I see him, I’m going to tell him to quit being a child and start owning up to it. It just may be a little difficult to be stern when he’s so goddamn pretty.

There’s a knock on my classroom door just as I’m packing up to leave. I just cleaned the room since Easter eggs and plastic grass was scattered across the floor.

I open the door. Spencer. Well, maybe this is my time.

“Hey,” he says with a soft grin.

“Hey, where’s Atlas?” I ask.

“I just dropped him off for a play date with Henry and Michael…. we need to talk.”

“Yes we do,” I say. I decide to go for it. “Me first. Spencer, you can’t keep pretending that there isn’t something between us,” I gesture from me to him and back to me with my pointer finger. “You can reject me all you want, but I know the truth. I like you. I want you. And I know you feel something like that too, so can you please just for one minute stop with the ‘I can’ts’ and ‘We’re just friends’ bullshit, because that’s what it is. Bullshit. And I know you’ve probably been through something that’s made you this way, but it’s okay to let people in. Actually in life, we kind of all have to suck it up and let people in.”

He laughs softly. Actually laughs. My face turns beat red, and I’m both embarrassed and angry. This isn’t funny.

“Are you done?” He asks, and I kind of want to strangle him for that.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean,” Spencer chuckles, licking his lips. “Is that all? Because what I’m about to do has to do with what you just said, but I don’t want to cut you off.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he hands me something.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with an Easter egg, Spencer? Do you know how many of these I’ve cleaned up today.”

He chuckles again, running a hand through his hair. “Open it.”

Expecting to find chocolate, I open the pink and yellow egg. There’s a folded up piece of paper. I unfold it, and a grin grows on my face when I read it. I shake my head, laughing softly.

The note reads:

Yes, I will go on a date with you.

And there’s a drawn on Easter bunny to the side of the sentence. He definitely drew it himself.

“You know,” he says, “if the offer still stands.”

I fight the urge to scream “Yes!” in his face. “I don’t know. Usually response times take less than an hour. This one took two months.”

Spencer’s face turns red, and he chuckles nervously. “Do I not get a grace period?”

“I suppose,” I say dramatically. “Only because you’re so cute.”

The red of his face deepens. “Oh yeah?”

Butterflies. Everywhere.

“Mhm. Now ignore what I said earlier because I’m a little embarrassed.”

Spencer grins. “Hmm no. It was kind of hot.”

I walk up to him, my arms resting on top of his shoulders. “Oh?”

“Mhm. Badass,” he nods, smiling down at me.

I stare up at him, my breath getting caught in my throat when I see him lean down closer to me. His face is not even an inch away from mine. He’s still hesitant, still anxious.

It’s me who closes the gap between our lips. I may have been the one to kiss him first, but he takes the lead. His lips are crashing into mine as if he’s been waiting for a long time to do this. I know I have. His hands are cupping the sides of my face, and I feel like he’s devouring me, but I like it. I like how hungry he is. I like being craved.

We don’t even care if a custodian or the principal comes in right now, all we care about is this kiss, is each other. Lips, teeth, and tongue collide together, and my heart is skipping so many beats I might go into cardiac arrest.

I’m the one to pull away too. I look up at him, and his eyes stay closed briefly until he meets my gaze with a smile.

“I’ve wanted this since we met,” I whisper, licking my lips, tasting him.

“Me too.” His words are just as soft as mine.

Spencer is backing me toward my room, but he doesn’t stop kissing me. His hands unbutton my blouse as we move. We finally make it to my bedroom, and neither of us care to shut the door. I live alone, so it doesn’t matter.

We’ve been dating for nearly two months now, and we haven’t had sex yet, not for any particular reason just that we haven’t had the opportunity to. But tonight, with Atlas with his friends and summer break having just started… well, here we are.

The rest of our clothes come off in between kisses and touches. We’re eager, craving each other.

Spencer sits down, watching me take off my panties and kick them to the side. I grip onto his shoulders and swing my leg over him, straddling his lap. Our mouths find each other again, like they’re finding their way home.

The touching and teasing from both parts gets to be too much after a while of his fingers crazy the bundle of nerves inbetween my legs and my hands playing with his length.

Soon enough, he’s slipping on a condom, and I’m lowering myself onto him. We both let out moans as he enters me.

I bite my lip, trying to be quiet. It’s been too long since either of us have done this.

Spencer grabs my chin gently and forces my teeth to release my lip from its confinement.

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you,” he says, his voice so low and raspy that my already pulsing core gets butterflies.

I begin rocking my hips back and forth slowly, and his hands caress my body wherever they feel fit. Both of our sounds are filling the apartment, and we don’t even care if we’re disturbing my neighbors.

After a while of slow movements, Spencer decides to take control. He pulls me close to him, my chest right in his face, his arm wrapped around my back. His other arm leans behind him, stabilizing the both of us. He bucks his hips up quickly and harsh, making my moans grow louder. Spencer‘s mouth takes hold of my nipple, and the sensation is amazing.

My hands roam his back, nails scratching down it.

“Shit, Y/n…” he says breathlessly. “I’m about to come.”

I whine, tugging at his hair. “Me too.”

The two of us finish, one right after the other. After we’re all cleaned up, and our breaths are mostly caught, we lay down in my bed. Spencer’s head rests on my tits, and my nails scratch his back, this time lightly.

“That was amazing, beautiful,” he says with a smile I can’t quite see but I can feel.

I grin, blowing my sweat-laced hair out of my eye. “It was incredible.”

—————

In the morning, Y/n touches my face gently. “The five o’clock shadow you have going on right now is so sexy.”

I blush, a grin plastered on my face. “You in nothing but a t shirt is so sexy.”

Y/n smiles and rolls her eyes.

I spent decades building up these walls, and it only took her a few months to get through them. For six years, I was so scared of being hurt again that I almost missed out on this. I’ve learned that healing isn’t not getting hurt again, healing his knowing that you may get hurt again and still allowing yourself to live a happy life. It’s accepting what happened to you, and not forgetting but forgiving whatever self-blame you hold in your heart.

I’m on the healing journey, and Atlas is too even if he doesn’t know it, and I’m glad Y/n is here with us. I’m glad I was able to break the vow I took years ago. I guess some promises are better off broken.

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @crynroom @scarredelirium @reid1nspiration @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @youcantseem3 @xmysec0ndself @trikigirl271 @mikaylafairy @prettypanda13 @strawberrysunglasses @sad-innit @sydney-m @depressedprincess24 @flyingmushroomss @r3idsp3ncer <3

[avatar-anna]

The Professor

summary: you and harry are perfect strangers

words: 3.5k

tw: none

PART III, PART V, PART IV, PART II, PART I Series Masterlist

June 2021

This summer, were trying something new.

Since school was out, you decided you needed to get out more. You’d seen less of Edward because he was getting busier and busier with his super secret project. He still texted and called, and since you were busy with school, helping the police department from time to time, filming your educational videos, and writing papers along with grading them, you didn’t mind not seeing him as much. You liked that you could go a few weeks without seeing each other and still remain close friends…or whatever you were. That was something both of you were okay with not discussing for the time being. 

In the past, you spent a lot of your summers indoors or around Cambridge, but this summer, you decided to branch out and explore. You read books and case files in cafes, you biked around town more, you even wanted to plan a road trip with Edward. Before, your summers, while enjoyable, were pretty monotonous. Maybe it was because the world was finally opening back up again, but you just had this itch to get out of your townhouse more. And take the Emperor with you, of course. 

It was a sunny afternoon in Cambridge, and you were sitting on a patio table of a cafe you started frequenting. They had all sorts of tea flavors and fun summery drinks you wanted to try. Something in you was pushing you to try new things, and instead of shying away from it, you embraced it. The sun was shining brightly, your paper was coming along splendidly, and the Emperor was basking in the sunlight inside the pram you bought for him. This summer was off to a beautiful start.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is Dr. Y/l/n outside and actually enjoying the sun?”

You immediately perked up at the sound of Edward’s voice, your lips curving up into a smile involuntarily. “What are you doing here?”

“To see you, of course,” he said from behind his mask. 

Edward was still standing, so you could see all of him. He, like you, was dressed for summer in corduroy shorts and an opened, button-down shirt made of a colorful patchwork of different fabrics. 

“Sit down!” you said, gesturing for the open seat across from you beside the Emperor. 

He did, petting your cat as he did so, who leaned into Edward’s touch. Seems you weren’t the only one who missed your friend.

“You’re in a particularly sunny mood today,” he said.

“I’m embracing life, Edward,” you said, slipping your straw beneath your face mask to take a sip of your coffee—some kind of rose latte that you didn’t love but felt like you needed to finish to be polite. “And I consulted on a case in New York, which was very fun. Well, not fun. Satisfying. You know, because I got to be a part of saving a life and stop someone from doing horrible things.”

Smiling, he said, “That’s great, Y/n. I’m really happy for you.”

He said it, but he didn’t sound happy. Admittedly, it was somber stuff, but you hadn’t gone into the explicit details, ones that you would never forget, you literally weren’t able to.

“Are you okay? You seem a little off.”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but again, he wasn’t very convincing. “Listen, there’s something I wanted to—”

“So, I had this idea, but I wanted to run it by—Oh, sorry. Go ahead.”

“No, no. You first.”

Now that his eyes were on you, even if they were covered by dark sunglasses, you flushed with nerves. You’d never done something like this, and you thought you had more time to prepare and find the right words, but this summer was all about taking chances for you, so you swallowed your fear and just blurted it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

Edward’s eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t tell what it meant. “A date?”

“Yeah, you know, since things have been opening up more, and we’ve never actually seen the bottom of each other’s faces, I just thought now would be as good a time as any, right?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you started to panic. Did you read the last three months wrong? Edward told you he liked you, you held hands when you sat and talked in your townhouse, he was showing interest, right? You couldn’t be that oblivious, and you didn’t think you read the signs wrong. You checked. Your evidence backed up your inferences. This should’ve been seamless.

You were almost never wrong, but now you were worried you got everything completely wrong. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

Edward was quick to reassure you. “I do, you have no idea how much I do. I’m just…shocked by how forward you’re being.”

Leaning forward, you stage whispered, “It’s not too much, is it?”

Edward leaned forward too, and this time you could tell he was grinning. “No, not at all. I think it suits you.”

He couldn’t see it, but you were smiling beneath your mask. “Great. So? What do you say?”

You’d never been this forward before, but Edward made you feel confident. In your mind, you had nothing to lose.

“I’d love to,” he said, holding your hand across the table. “Now, what do you say to heading back to your place? I missed looking at constellations with you.”

Butterflies Edward had called them. They were going crazy in your stomach, but they didn’t freak you out. They just made you excited. You thought this new you suited you too.

----------------------------------------------------------

It was late, way past midnight, and he was still in your house. You weren’t quite sure where the time went, or how you managed to talk for that long, but there both of you were, sitting on your couch, neither of you making any kinds of moves to leave.

“If you weren’t a professor, what would you be doing?”

It took you a moment to think about that, to give him an answer that wouldn’t end in Edward lecturing you about taking care of yourself and putting yourself first.

“I don’t know, I think I was made for teaching and helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“But do you teach because you love it or because you’re good at it. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Y/n.”

Edward worried about you a lot. Something you thought you would find irritating, but actually found endearing.

“I know, but for me it is,” you said, squeezing the hand that was holding yours. You realized he liked that. Small affectionate touches. You weren’t the affectionate type but you liked being that way for him. “I love helping people. For the first half of my life, I was stuck doing things for other people, and I hated it. I was good at math, I am good at math, but being forced to do it all day made me never want to look at or solve complicated theories ever again.

“This is the life I chose for myself. Sometimes I think that with this…gift, asset, whatever you want to call it, that I should be doing more, so I help the police department and I share my knowledge with others and hope that’s enough.”

You let out a breath, surprised you said so much. You knew it wasn’t physically possible, but you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like in that moment, you weren’t just talking to Edward, but to everyone who ever criticized your decision to leave solving unsolvable math and science problems behind to take up teaching.

“That felt good, didn’t it?” Edward said, like your answer was exactly what he wanted you to say.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re very smart, Edward. Not as smart as me of course, but—”

“But who is?” he finished for you.

You sat with him in comfortable silence, neither of you knowing what to say next, but not ready to say goodbye, either. This was the latest Edward had ever stayed over, and that fluttering was stirring in you. You’d never had anyone spend the night before, but you thought he would make a good first.

“I should probably go,” he said suddenly, as if he just realized it was nearing three in the morning.

Reminding yourself that this was the summer of embracing change and trying new things, you took a deep breath and said, “You don’t have to.”

“No?” 

“It’s late, and you must be tired. You can stay. If—If you want to, that is.”

You wondered if his heart was beating as fast as yours, or if his palms were starting to sweat. Maybe you’d read these last three months entirely wrong, maybe asking him to stay was a terrible idea, one you clearly didn’t think through. Your invitation for him to stay the night was exactly that: a place for him to sleep. But did Edward know that? What if he took your invitation as more? And neither of you obviously slept with a face covering, there was a chance you would see his face tonight.

You’d insisted on the face masks because you didn’t want to get yourself or Edward sick, but part of you also liked that you had to wear them. It was social distance as well as emotional distance, like keeping what you completely looked like a secret was the one thing that prevented you from fully opening up to him. Were you really ready for that?

“Y/n?”

So in your thoughts about Edward possibly staying the night, you forgot he hadn’t said yes or no yet. Blushing, you looked back over to him. “Yes?”

“I can see the gears turning in that beautiful brain of yours. You don’t have to be so stressed. If you don’t want me to stay, I won’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“I do!” you blurted, your face turning red at how quickly you corrected him. “I, um, I think it will be fun. But…I just don’t want you to think that it means that we’re having sex.”

The blunt delivery of your statement had him laughing, so much so that it calmed your nerves a bit. “I didn’t think that at all,” he said. Inching closer to you, he reached for your hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back. “So, got an extra toothbrush?”

----------------------------------------------------------

You were at home, laying on your floor and watching constellations, only it wasn’t with Edward. Your phone was clutched in your hands, your leg crossed over the other revealing colorful patterned socks peeking out beneath your ankle-length jeans. You needed to make a phone call, but you didn’t know what you were going to say. 

How were you going to tell him?

Thankfully, you got a phone call before you had to make that decision. It was the former student you employed to help edit your videos. “Hello?”

“When were you going to tell me you knew Harry Styles?”

The name sounded familiar, and you recalled one of your students mentioning it in one of their questions at the end of class once, but you didn’t know him. “I…I don’t?”

“Y/n, are you pulling my leg right now? It’s all over the Internet,” they said.

“What is?” you asked, more confused than ever.

“The pictures! You’re at a cafe and casually sitting with one of the most popular men in music. How the hell did you not know?”

Your mind was going into overdrive with all the new information you’d just received. “I—I need to—to go,” you said, hanging up without another word. 

The only time you really used the Internet was to look up scholarly journals or to search for a new recipe, but now you typed in the words, “Harry Styles,” when the search finished loading, your eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

You rarely cursed, but this instance was worthy of using expletives. Edward…Harry…whoever he said he was…was not who he claimed to be. He was famous, like really, really famous. He’d just won a Grammy, he had two albums, he was on the cover of Vogue, and he had a larger than life following. The man online was not the man you knew in person. He was charismatic and outgoing, he sang songs about sex, he was a more vibrant version of the person you’d come to know. Edward was soft spoken, but Harry was…some kind of rockstar.

You consumed everything you possibly could, your eyes scanning his Wikipedia page—he had a Wikipedia page!—in a minute. Singing contest shows, albums, awards, band breakups, world tours, you read everything. You knew more about him than you wanted to know. 

And you were there too. In a recent article by some tacky looking publication with obnoxious colors and loud titles that made your head hurt, there was a picture of you and Edward—Harry—sitting at the cafe last week. The pictures looked innocent enough, but the headlines claimed you were a secret lover, a possible affair.

An affair? You clicked on one of the linked articles on the website, hating yourself for reading something like this. Another picture popped up. He looked like he was at some wedding, holding hands with another woman.

You turned your phone off after that, not wanting anymore pictures or words forever ingrained in your mind. He was seeing someone. He had a…a person. Someone that meant something to him. Someone that wasn’t you.

It hurt, especially because you really thought he’d shown interest the last few months, but that was probably a lie too. He spent the night just last week! Sure, you didn’t do anything but sleep, but that was a big step. Apparently not. Just before you clicked out of the website, you saw that she was a director. Maybe he was only interested in people who led similar lives, and you certainly did not.

You felt silly all of a sudden. You tricked yourself into believing that someone actually cared for you. No one had ever shown interest in you outside of the knowledge you held, all the remarkable things you could remember. When you visited her for Spring Break, your mom went around telling people you were a human computer, getting people to ask you questions and see how quick you could respond. Like your students in class but not at all the same. You weren’t a person to be valued or cherished, you were an object of fascination. A circus freak that could do tricks on command.

You laid on the floor with your head pressed against the wood panels, heart pounding and mind spinning. Words flew around so fast they were unintelligible. Nothing made sense, and as someone who could make sense of everything, it was frustrating you. A headache quickly developed into a migraine, and you didn’t know what to do. Shutting your eyes wouldn’t change anything, would probably only make things worse. You read too much too fast, and now it was overwhelming you.

A knock on your front door temporarily distracted you. You stood up from your position on the ground, but every step towards your door was a painful one. Peeking through your peephole, your heart clenched, your stomach filled with dread. It was him.

You were in no way ready to face him, so you didn’t. “I—I’m not feeling well.”

“Aw, really?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “Well, let me in and I’ll take care of you.”

He sounded so sweet and so sincere that you almost let him in, but you stopped yourself. “I haven’t gotten tested yet. I’ll—I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Let me in, Y/n. If you’re not feeling well, I want to help.”

His kindness made you angry all of a sudden. With everything swirling around and your migraine, you blurted, “I don’t want to see you right now, Harry.”

It was his name, but it didn’t sound right on your tongue. He seemed to recognize it, though. With both of you so close to the door, you heard the soft thud of his forehead leaning against it as he quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

“You lied to me,” you said, trying to hide the quiver in your voice. “Why would you lie to me?”

“I—I didn’t lie, I—”

“Don’t give me that omission bullshit! You didn’t even tell me your real name!”

You remembered the first time he’d come over to your house. The two of you were so engrossed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you hadn’t shared each other’s names until he was about to leave. He told you his name was Edward, and you didn’t question it. Why would you?

“I can’t believe this,” you said. “I—We talked about you being a murderer, and I laughed it off when you could’ve actually been one. I’m such an idiot! I actually—I actually trusted you!”

“You can trust me. Please just—Please let me in, and I can explain everything. Just please let me in.”

He sounded desperate, but he wasn’t getting it. You did let him in. He knew you more than any other person you knew, but you clearly didn’t know him. You had a hard time trusting people, it was why you didn’t have many friends or colleagues or a long romantic history. Trust was something you had a hard time handing to people, but somehow he managed it, and he took it and stomped on it, crushed it in his hands like a piece of paper. You couldn’t trust him. He lied to you about who he was for months and didn’t try to tell you the truth. Not once.

“I know about the woman you’re seeing. The director,” you said suddenly You had never spoken so venomously before, and you hated it. You hated how all of this was making you feel. “I asked you out because I liked you and you managed to convince me that you liked me too, but—but you ruined it. I learned so much about you in minutes, and I can’t forget it. I wish I could forget meeting you, but I will never be able to.

“I can win a chess game in two moves, I could solve some of the most complex physics equations before you probably even knew what algebra was, I know four current languages and two dead languages, I’ve read the Bible cover to cover multiple times, I came close to solving the three body problem. I bet you don’t even know what that is!

“I’m an expert in multiple fields of psychology, so imagine my surprise when I found out you weren’t who you said you were. Not once did I suspect anything,” you said, surprised that all of that came bursting out of you.

“I am. Y/n, please open the door,” he pleaded. He sounded like he was crying, which made a couple tears slip down your cheeks. 

You steeled your nerves, feeling like each one of those butterflies he made you feel died and floated to the bottom of your stomach. “I’m glad I found out now and not while I was still teaching, I can’t imagine how badly my students would make fun of me for being so clueless.”

Hearing the calmness in your voice, you heard him grow frantic on the other side of the door. “It’s not your fault, Y/n, I was just trying to—”

“You’re right. It’s not my fault,” you said. “I don’t like to believe in coincidences or chance, but maybe there’s a hint of it here.” You paused, finding the strength to get the words out. You hadn’t thought it through, and perhaps you were being too rash or emotional, but you said it anyway. “I was offered a job today. In New York. I was going to call you and tell you about it, maybe celebrate even if I was planning on turning it down, but then I got a different phone call first, and I found out about you, and…

“I’m going to take the job, and I—I don’t want to see you before I leave.”

“Okay, I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be, but I am begging you not to go anywhere before I can explain. There’s so much that I want—that I need to say. Y/n please.”

You were done fighting. Mostly because your migraine was becoming too much and you were still processing the overload of information, but also because you couldn’t handle talking to the person on the other side of your door anymore. 

“Just go,” you said, more tired than you’d ever felt before. “I can’t—I can’t let you do this to me.”

Your mind, which was normally sharp and organized, was currently in shambles. You'd never felt this lost before. You could always rely on your instinct and your knowledge, but it was failing you, and that was something you couldn't handle.

“Please. Please. Open the door, Y/n. Please let me in. Please, I’ll explain everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

Taking your cat, you left him at the front door, still knocking and begging you to let him explain, but you didn’t want an explanation. None of it would change the fact that he lied for months, with no plans to stop.

You don’t know when he left, or how long he knocked on the door. If he left of his own volition or if your neighbors grew tired of the noise. You just didn’t care to know. As you rested on your bed and hid from everything you learned the best you could, you just…didn’t care anymore.

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

tags: @remuslupinwifee @majasophieanna @michellekstyles @wolwolsighs @harrystylesrecs @cwiphswmwasohmm @his-only-angel-1989

[yoongiseesawmp3]

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be. 

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids. 

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together. 

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes. 

- 

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out. 

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee. 

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard. 

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final. 

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.” 

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing. 

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.” 

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time. 

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?” 

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

-

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break. 

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs. 

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit. 

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs. 

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

-

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint. 

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint. 

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it. 

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car. 

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now. 

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store. 

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs. 

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

-

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone. 

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?” 

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too? 

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?” 

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?” 

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number. 

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

-

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?” 

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously. 

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks. 

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts. 

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you. 

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

-

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me? 

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now 

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

- 

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably. 

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles). 

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa. 

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks. 

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

- 

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet. 

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there. 

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display. 

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs. 

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood. 

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently. 

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently. 

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you. 

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly. 

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.” 

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds. 

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters. 

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says. 

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes. 

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” 

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

-

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until- 

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts. 

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

-

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with. 

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated. 

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.” 

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. 

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

-

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless. 

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently. 

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back. 

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains. 

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

-

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date. 

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand. 

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck. 

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

-

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him. 

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works. 

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods. 

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.” 

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns. 

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles. 

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear. 

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 5)

uh ohh, part 5 baby! im quite enjoying this story so far and i have some fun things planned for it, so i hope you’ll stay with me for them! in today’s part, our fav new celeb couple takes it all the way, though i chose not to include the actual sex part, however im still treating you all with some dirty stuff so enjoy!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.6k

warning: NSFW content

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

New couple alert?

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N have been spotted having lunch and grabbing coffee several times in the course of the past few weeks. All the outings looked casual and friendly, they gladly stopped for fans that approached them and the word has it that they’ve been getting closer to each other, though neither of them confirmed anything.

Harry Styles has been known to be single for a while now, only faint rumors swirling up sometimes, but none of them were proven to be true, the young actress is the first woman he has been linked to in a long time. Y/N Y/L/N has been focusing on her blooming career and has been single since her split from long time exboyfriend and fellow actor, Levi Hudson. The pair dated all through 2018, splitting in the beginning of 2019. Hudson has admitted their hectic schedules made it impossible to maintain their relationship while Y/N did not confirm anything.

Styles is going on his world-wide tour soon, while Y/L/N is currently between two projects. The young celebs seem to be enjoying each other’s company and fans have been quick to jump into speculations about their alleged romance, however there is no evidence as of right now.

“Thank you so much for your time, it was a pleasure to talk to you,” the young interviewer smiles at you, holding her hand out and you shake it with a warm smile.

“Thank you for having me! And I really like your shoes, by the way,” you point down at her electric blue pumps that you’ve been eyeing since the start of the interview.

“Oh, thank you! Got them from a vintage store,” she beams, a slight blush playing on her cheeks clearly a little starstruck from your compliment.

“Love those little stores.”

“Me too,” she giggles collecting her papers and notes. “Someone will contact you and your team soon about the photoshoot and I’ll email you a draft of the interview in about a week.”

“That’s perfect, thank you so much,” you nod at her grabbing your purse from the side table next to you. Grabbing your phone from the depth of it you smile to yourself upon seeing the text from Harry.

“Call me when you’re done with the interview Xx.”

You say your goodbye to everyone before heading out of the building. Lawrence is at the front waiting for you in the car and he greets you with a warm smile when you sit into the backseat. As he starts the car and heads back to your home, you call Harry, who picks it up after the second ring.

“Hey! How was the interview?” he beams brightly, his voice immediately making you smile.

“Great! This young girl did it and she had some exciting questions.”

“Sounds lovely. Can’t wait to buy a Cosmopolitan with you on the cover soon,” he says and you can hear the grin through his voice.

“Will look good in your hands for sure,” you chuckle.

“Right. So I have a question for you.”

“Go for it.”

“I’m doing this very small show at Beacon Theater this weekend, kind of a practice before the real tour begins and I was wondering if you’d be up to come. Would love to have you there.”

“When is it exactly?”

“Saturday at nine. I know it’s a short notice and I get it if you have something else going on, just wanted to ask.”

“I think I can make it work,” you smile, thinking back at what your day looks like on Saturday. “Can I bring someone?”

“Of course! Just let me know how many people so I can have the tickets sent over to you.”

“Thank you. It’s sweet of you to think about me.”

“You know I always think about you,” he murmurs and his voice sends a shiver down your spine. Crazy to think how much he can affect you with just his words, he just has a special spell on you, it seems.

“Still such a flirt, I see,” you chuckle, feeling your cheeks heating up as you hear his soft laugh on the other end of the line.

“For you, always.”

“Alright. I’ll text you about the tickets and thank you again. Can’t wait to see you perform finally.”

“It’s been due for a while now, right? Kind of promised you some tickets on Ellen, if I remember correctly.”

“You did!” you laugh thinking back at the time you met him. How funny that just one short game on a talk show led the two of you here. You have to thank Ellen though.

“Now I’m finally keeping my promise. Talk to you later then, Love. Have a great day.”

“You too, Harry.”

 You manage to convince Sydney to join you for the concert, she sounds excited when you ask if she had anything to do on Saturday. Seeing Harry perform before his tour kicks off is a thrill for her she wouldn’t pass on for anything, so she is really grateful that you thought of her as your plus one.

Harry has your passes sent over to your place on Friday and it comes with a bouquet of flowers as well as a card.

“Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. What’s your favorite song? I’ll make sure to perform it just for you. –H”

He never fails to make you feel like the only woman on the planet and you can definitely see why so many fall for him even without meeting him. The man has all the power to charm anyone with just a smile.

You put the flowers into a vase and leave them on your dining table before grabbing your phone and sending him a quick text.

“It’s Only Angel,” you simply write, hoping he’ll get it why you just wrote that. Luckily, he does.

“Straight to the setlist. Dedicated to You.”

 Finishing up the last touches to your makeup you bop your head to the song blasting through the stereo. It’s Only Angel, of course. You’ve had it on repeat all afternoon and now you can’t wait to actually see Harry perform it live.

Just as you are about to get changed, Syd arrives so you let her in with a beaming smile and when she hears the music upon walking into your place she cheers in excitement.

“Yes! This is such a jam!” she smirks, doing a little dance as you lock the door behind her.

“You look fantastic, Syd,” you tell her. The black short dress looks amazing paired with the lilac oversized blazer. Her makeup matches the same color and you are obsessed with the fishnet tights. She will surely make men wish she was into them.

“Thank you! Spent two hours figuring out what to wear, so I hope I look fantastic,” she giggles.

She helps you put together your outfit as well. Wide legged flaming red pants that make your waist look snatched, a black sheer top tucked into it with just a black bralette underneath. You already know Harry will be a fan of the skin you’re showing, you can’t wait to see his face when he finally spots you.

You quickly pack your essentials into a black Chanel purse along with stuff you need for a possible sleepover if things might take a pleasant turn, and you finish with everything just when the doorman calls up through the intercom that Lawrence has arrived.

“So, what’s the deal with you and him, if I may ask?” Syd questions in the car, not in a nosy way, more like a curious, friendly way.

“We are… getting close,” you say, tasting the word on your tongue. You haven’t labeled whatever you have going on with Harry, nor do you really know what it should be called. You’ve been trying hard to make time for each other as much as possible, making small lunch and coffee dates a regular thing. He came over to your place one evening for a movie and that’s the only time you were able to be alone with him, though nothing sexual happened. Yet. The real deal is yet to happen and if you are being honest you are running short on patience. It’s getting harder to hold yourself back and keep your hands to yourself as well when you are out with him, but you agreed to keep it lowkey out in the public.

Tonight, however, you have a feeling what you’ve been waiting for so long might actually happen and you can only hope Harry is planning the same thing. You are absolutely ready to bluntly ask if he wants to spend the night at your place.

“But you’re heading… somewhere, right?”

“I hope so,” you smile shyly.

“That’s amazing. I think you two are a match,” Syd smirks at you.

By the time you arrive to the venue the gates have been opened so people are busy getting inside, giving you the chance to walk inside through the backdoors without any fuss.

“Miss, Harry requested me to usher you to his dressing room when you arrive,” the girl at the door smiles at you with a clipboard in her hands and a headset covering her ears.

“Oh, alright,” you nod, turning to Syd. “You go ahead and get us a good place,” you tell her and she nods walking away with a wave as she heads up to the second floor that’s fully reserved for friends and family.

Following the girl down the hallway you are led to a room that has Harry’s name on it. She gently knocks on the door and a few moments later it flies open, revealing Harry in a colorful suit and a simple white button-down shirt. He looks breathtaking, hair fixed perfectly and the wide grin stretching across his lips when he sees you standing there.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, grabbing your hand and pulling inside, snatching you away from the preying eyes. Once the door clicks closed behind you, he is quick to press his lips to yours in a sweet welcoming kiss. Ever since your first official date he hasn’t passed on any chance to kiss you whenever you had the luxury of privacy to yourselves, which hasn’t happened too much, leaving you both with a growing hunger for each other every time you meet.

“Mm of course I am,” you smile against his lips before pecking them one last time and leaning back. “Looking great, Mr. Styles,” you grin, taking your time to wander your eyes down on him.

“Yeah? Like the suit?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I love your outfit as well. M’gonna have a hard time not thinking about you on the stage.”

“Please think about me,” you breathe out with a coy smile.

“Don’t fucking say that to me, you are giving me a hard time,” he groans and you just chuckle at the tortured look on his face.

“Sorry,” you mumble, but your face doesn’t meet your words. He squeezes your waist gently, pecking your lips in a rush before he lets go of you.

“I need to go over a few things before we start, so just go ahead and join Syd. Meet me here after the show?”

“Yeah, perfect,” you nod smiling. “Good luck out there,” you wink and he grins at you with bright eyes. His hands grab onto yours before you head out, pulling you in for one last kiss before you leave.

You feel flustered and you take a few deep breaths on your way up to the gallery to find Syd who managed to get an amazing spot at the front on the left side.

They offer everyone up on the gallery some champagne before the show starts and looking around you see a few familiar faces, but no one you specifically know. You stick with Sydney who is over the moon about the show and you are kind of sharing her excitement.

When the lights go down and the music finally starts, you can’t help but join in with the screams that fill the theater.

You’ve seen videos of him performing, in One Direction and solo as well. You’ve seen pictures and you’ve heard the words about how amazing he is on stage, but none of those live up to the actual experience. The sensation that takes over you just by seeing him appear on the stage as the whole theater chants his name as one, it completely sweeps you off your feet and for a second you wonder how you could live a life without this experience.

When his voice starts to flow through the massive speakers you need to take a deep breath, a shiver runs down your spine and you chug down the rest of your champagne so you could get rid of the glass and hold onto the railing with both hands because you feel like you need to ground yourself before you shoot into the sky.

Song after song, he performs perfectly, bringing every single person in the audience to that euphoric state they’ve been probably seeking their whole life. The experience is surely one of a kind, something you’ll definitely be thinking about for a long time.

Time seems to stop, though it cruelly carries on even when you forget about it completely. The concert is nearing its end and Harry takes a breather as he places his guitar to the stand behind him. You watch his every move as he walks back to the microphone, his gaze moving up to the gallery, roaming through the people until they find you.

“This last song is dedicated… to my Only Angel,” he murmurs into the microphone as the audience erupts, blows up at once and your heart skips a beat when his eyes linger over you for a little longer before the music starts to play.

You faintly hear Syd screaming next to you, probably aware that the dedication was addressed to you, but you can’t tear your eyes off of the man on the stage.

He nails it perfectly, looking like an absolute rockstar that he truly is and for a moment you can’t believe you have his attention and interest. How can such a precious and unbelievably talented man be in your reach?

Because I deserve great things in life, you tell yourself, a little mantra you’ve gotten around to repeat every time you found yourself doubting your success and happiness.

The concert eventually ends and though no one in the room desires the end of it, Harry leaves and you are abruptly brought back to reality.

“That was… something else truly,” Syd breathes out as the two of you linger around a little longer, trying to come down from the high you just experienced.

“Yeah. He is so fucking talented it’s almost unfair,” you chuckle running a hand through your hair.

“This tour will kill thousands of people all around the world,” she muses and for a moment, reality sets in and you realize that Harry will leave for his worldwide tour very soon, leaving you behind.

You get rid of the thought, not wanting to stress over something that’s not relevant just yet and you don’t want to ruin the evening either. Fears and stress can wait a little longer.

The two of you make your way backstage, walking into a bit of a chaos as all close friends and family want to congratulate to Harry and the band as well. Standing at the side you let everyone have their time, barely even seeing Harry in the sea of people in the spacious green room. Syd keeps you company as you wait and about thirty minutes later it seems like the crowd is starting to loosen up.

Harry spots you and excuses himself immediately from his conversation with a couple, heading in your direction with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his pretty face.

“Congrats, that was mind-blowing,” you smirk as he reaches you, a hand curling around your waist as he leans down and places a kiss to your cheek, keeping it as moderate as possible, though you both just want to jump at each other.

“Thank you, Love,” he nods, a blush tinting his cheeks from your words. “Hello Sydney, so great to see you again,” he greets the girl next to you and they share a short hug.

“Hi! Loved the show so much!” she giggles in excitement.

“Thank you for coming.”

The three of you chat for a while before Sydney says she is gonna call herself an Uber, so after saying her goodbye she leaves you alone with Harry, as much as you can be alone with a bunch of other people around.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he clears his throat as his hand finds its way back to the small of your back.

“Go for it.”

“We are gonna grab a drink at some bar, but nothing over the top and I wanted to ask if you would want to join.”

“Sounds good,” you smile, feeling a little disappointed. This is not exactly what you wanted him to ask. Luckily, he is not done with his questions.

“Also… I-If it’s cool by you, I thought that… maybe you could come over?”

“Mmm, go over and do what?” you tease him, your smile stretching wider with each passing moment.

“I have plenty of ideas, Love,” he breathes out, making you laugh. “We could drop by your place if you need anything to stay over.”

“No need. Packed a bag,” you slyly grin at him, taking him by surprise clearly, but it’s surely a pleasant one.

“Always a step ahead of me, huh?” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It takes some time to actually leave the venue and head off to the bar with a close group of friends of him and the band. A secluded area was already reserved for you that has its own bar, so you could enjoy the evening without worrying about preying eyes of strangers or fans. You really weren’t in the mood to keep your distance from Harry, this way at least you were able to touch each other in a more intimate way without speculations swirling up immediately.

You get to know his band and some of his friends, they are all genuinely amazing people, but you weren’t expecting anything else. You figured he only surrounds himself with people like him. His hands often find your waist and he doesn’t shy away from kissing your cheek or giving your hips a gentle squeeze, just letting you know you have his attention and he appreciates that you’re there.

It’s nearing one am when the guests start leaving and soon enough you find yourself in the back of your car with Harry, heading to his place, while you try your best to keep your hands away from him. You wouldn’t put Lawrence through the trauma of having to see or hear something he shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop you from kissing, something you’ve been dying to do all night. Your hand rests on his thigh while he has an arm curled around your shoulders, keeping you tight by his side, delicately brushing his nose against your hair every time your lips are not connected.

“Thank you, Lawrence. I’ll call myself a taxi in the morning, have the day off,” you tell your driver who smiles in your way thankfully while Harry grabs your and his bags from the back of the car.

“Thank you, Miss. Enjoy your night,” he nods in your way as you shut the door closed.

You try to take your duffel bag from Harry, but he insists to carry it as the two of you walk inside his house.

“Want something to drink? Water, tea or something?” he asks, setting the bags down near his giant, comfortable looking couch. Your thoughts immediately wander to a dirty field, picturing him sitting on that very couch as you kneel in front of him, pleasuring him so good that his eyes roll back…

“Yeah, water please,” you say clearing your throat. Some hydration will come handy after the drinks you chugged down at the bar.

You follow him as he shuffles into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and a bottled water from the fridge for you, pouring some into the glass before handing it to you.

“Thank you. You have a nice place for yourself,” you tell him, looking around in his home.

“Thanks. Been working on it for a while,” he chuckles softly. “Feels a bit too big for just myself though.”

You finish the water and set your eyes at him, feeling your hunger for him grow with each passing moment. Placing the empty glass to the marble counter you take a step closer to him.

“You feel lonely often?” you question in a low voice. His eyes return to you and you are happy to see the same lust in them.

“Would say so, yes,” he nods, running his tongue over his pink lips before he reaches out and grabbing you by your hips, he draws you close to him. Leaning down his lips brush against the shell of your ear, a shiver runs down your spine when you hear his whisper in it. “Hope it’ll change soon.”

At a loss of patience, you grab his face and angle it perfectly so you can kiss him hard. And by hard, you mean real hard. He stumbles back from the force, but manages to keep his balance, returning the kiss just as vehemently as he receives it, a tug of war starting between the two of you.

His hands work fast on the sheer fabric of your shirt, pulling it out from the waistband of your pants, getting rid of it eagerly as his lips wander down on your neck, collarbones and chest. He easily turns the two of you around so you are pushed against the edge of the countertop, his hips pushed against you and it’s clearer that daylight just how excited he is to have you here tonight. Your eyes flicker over to the couch again and the desire to please him with your mouth just bursts, you can’t hold yourself back anymore.

So you push him away from you, grabbing his wrist and yanking him after you, heading towards the couch. You push him down and his lustful eyes follow every move of yours as you kneel in front of him and he realizes what you are about to do. He doesn’t stop you when you work to unbutton his pants, but his hand finds your chin and he pulls you up for a swift, but passionate kiss.

Once you successfully undid his pants he lifts his hips and you spare some time and energy, pulling them down along with his underwear, leaving him only in his vintage printed t-shirt as his cock springs free. You push your thighs together just at the sight of him, the way his eyes burn down on you, how his lips part when your gazes meet and the way he sucks on his breath when your fingers dig into his thighs near his crotch as you situate yourself closer.

“I believe I owe you an orgasm, don’t I?” you ask with a cheeky smirk before wrapping your left hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get him even more excited. A whimpered moan slips from his lips and you lean closer, giving his cock a lick from bottom to top, wrapping your lips around the head as you swirl your tongue around it.

“Fuck hell!” he breathes out, clearly enjoying himself, hands fisting the cushion next to him, but you bet they’ll be buried in your hair soon.

You’re not an expert in the field of blowjobs, but it’s been your thing to come barging right through the door and jump the easy teasing whenever you were on your knees for a man. So with your hands fixed on his beautiful face, you sink down on him, his cock gliding into your mouth right until the tip reaches the back of your throat, earning the loudest moan you’ve heard from him. Shutting your eyes closed you keep him like that for a second until the urge to gag starts to set in, so you slide him out, your saliva dripping down his erection as your eyes meet his and you can tell you shocked him with your bold first move.

“Do that one more time and I won’t last for a minute,” he warns breathing heavily and you just smirk up at him before going into action again, this time only taking a smaller portion of him, pumping the base to make up for the lack of deep throating, but it appears that he enjoys just the simple part of it equally. As you keep bobbing your head, taking as much of him as you can without gagging, his right hand flies to your hair, taking a handful of it as he gently guides your head, keeping it in the rhythm that works the best for him and you happily let him do whatever makes him feel good.

When your free hand goes to gently massage his balls your name erupts from him in the most voluptuous way you’ve heard him call out for you. As if he just cried out for God himself.

“Y/N, fuck, I won’t last long,” he warns you, but that’s all you want. You need to see him come undone under your touch, you want to be the reason his breath hitches. Picking up your pace you see him whimper some more, head falling backwards to the back of the couch. It’s a heavenly view and you wish you could take a picture of his beauty as he enjoys himself on this intimate level. You’ve never wanted to please a man more than him and just seeing him in this blissful state makes you wet through your underwear.

When his breathing starts to get uneven, chest heaving wildly, you take all of him again, his head poking the back of your throat and you push your tongue against his length as you slide him out, picking up the same pace that you kept before, both hands working hard on him.

“Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!” he warns again and just a few seconds later, you feel the evidence of his satisfaction spurt into the back of your throat, eyes falling on you as you give him one last lick before swallowing everything that’s in your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out pulling you up, eagerly kissing you without a second thought, his hands cupping your cheeks to keep you in place. “You surely know how to kill a man, yea?” he huffs making you chuckle.

“Think you can go for a second one?” you sheepishly ask, blinking up at him from under your long lashes.

“I’ll have enough time to recover while I eat you out like you’re my last meal,” he bluntly replies, and a moan almost slips from your lips.

“Show me what you got, Styles,” you challenge him and he doesn’t need more, he easily picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he heads straight to the bedroom.

“As you wish, Angel,” he mumbles against your skin, peppering your neck and shoulder with featherlike kisses along his way until he throws you to his bed, ruthlessly tearing the remaining of your clothes off your body.

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[spencerreidsconverse]

When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”.  You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”

[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Sick

word count: 5.4k

warnings: mention of scoliosis, sickness, dizziness, angst + fluff

A/N: Hi everyone! I can't believe this is my first sick fic but I just had to do one with Wilhemina x Reader. If anyone would like to see some more, I might do a series of these with Cordelia or Ally or even Billie. (Let me know)

This is dedicated to a very special person I met on Tumblr- I hope you remember to take a break from time to time and look after yourself! ✨

Taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @mrsdeanhoward , @alexajbitar , @in-cordelias-coven , @kenzbro , @loverofallthingssarah , @twistedpoeticjustice , @billiebeanhoward , @minaslittleone , @lilypadscoven , @vintagepaulson , @ninaahs , @whitelotus00 , @httpfiftyshadesofgay

''If you decide to go into work, it's at your own risk, don't come running to me afterwards, if you don't feel well'' Wilhemina's harsh words ring through your ears as you stand by your desk, trying to focus on the tasks ahead. All you can feel, as your hand wanders to the table, desperately looking for some support to not lose balance, to not give your legs the power to stop supporting you and to fight your body from giving up and letting exhaustion win.

In reality, Wilhemina's words weren't supposed to come out as harsh and rushed as they did, her stern and cold tone and demeanor, only a defensive mechanism for the woman, trying to hide her true feelings that are buried deep within her soul. She meant to protect you, from yourself mostly but also the sickness and the flu that had come knocking about a week ago, but you being stubborn pushing it away as if it wasn't real or meaningful.

However, as you stand by your desk, trying hard not to lose balance, you realize that all along Wilhemina had been right and you should have listened. The times, she told you to stop working so much and doing over hours as your job demanded it, the times she told you that making her a bath or cooking dinner isn't necessary that day. The times she told you to take care of yourself and simply lie down but you wouldn't listen, always caring more about everyone else's wellbeing, especially the redheads than your own.

''Miss Y/L/N, have you finished your assigned task yet by chance?'' you hear the voice of your boss, as she enters and you wish she didn't, as her voice only adds to the throbbing pain in your head, causing your vision to blur and everything to feel even more unbearable than it already does.

With all the fight and strength left in you, you manage to turn around and grab the folder, handing it to her with shaky hands. You had always been good at hiding, either fighting battles of sickness or overwhelming thoughts, drowning in your own emotions deep down but remaining to keep a perfect facade and smile to the people on the outside, so they didn't understand and learn your true feelings as you see no reason to bother them with it. However, no matter how much you try and hide this and pretend that you aren't consumed by sickness fighting your body, it's very visible in your features.

Even though your boss is a very hectic person, always caring about performing well and getting work done as ''efficiently and quickly as possible'' as she repeats on a daily basis, even she manages to notice your fragile state. Your face, which is usually filled with light and warm smiles, doesn't just lack the genuine smile and warmth but also color as you are incredibly pale. She quickly connects the dots, noticing how your hand is gripping around the desk still and how your other hand is shaking uncontrollably.

''Miss Y/L/N, are you feeling alright?'' you hear her ask before your eyes feel heavier as the exhaustion is slowly creeping up on you and you have trouble concentrating on what is happening, as you feel more in a dream-like state. For a moment, everything seems to pause and you only snap out of it when you feel some weight pressing on your shoulders and someone forcing you to sit down on a chair they pulled closer.

Only as you force your eyes open, slightly confused and dumbfounded at what is happening,  you realize it's your boss making you sit down and walking to the other end of the room to get some water for you. ''Miss Y/L/N while I appreciate your determination, you should have called in sick this morning'' she explains, while handing you a glass of water with a compassionate smile but the concern visible in her features. ''I just wanted to-to finish the'' you start but stop midway as you feel sick at the pure sensation of water in your mouth, let alone swallowing it.

''I understand but you need some rest, that much is plain, need me to call someone for you?'' she asks but you instantly tense, knowing your girlfriend Wilhemina will definitely not be amused if she has to pick you up from work, after explicitly telling you not to go in the first place, this morning and last night. Not to mention, she is at her own workplace, having to deal with her own piles of work, her constant back pain, and two idiot bosses on top of it all.

''No I am ok- okay'' you manage to get the words out and force your best smile, knowing if you aren't going to be convincing enough, she might not let you leave without calling someone. ''Very well but you better not show your face here, until you are truly better'' she warns, with a little smile, knowing how determined you are, and while she appreciates your work attitude a lot, she knows you tend to overwork yourself and forgetting to take care of yourself in the process.

Taking a deep breath, you somehow manage to prop yourself up and grab your bag, taking slow but steady steps towards the exit and the bus stop. As you walk through the corridor, momentarily blinded by the bright lights flickering, you are well aware you shouldn't attempt to get on the bus, considering there is still a little walk back to yours and Wilhemina's apartment but you could never bother your girlfriend with this, not because she told you so in the first place but because you need to remain stable and alright.

As you walk through exit and towards the bus stop, you feel some droplets of rain on your skin and instantly shiver a little as the cold water only adds to the uncomfortable feeling. Focussing on your vision and the bus timetable as you actually don't know the times because you would usually never leave work after two hours, the dizziness momentarily passes a little as the thoughts become overwhelming. Waves of uncomfortable thoughts crash into your brain, with no way of stopping ''What if they will fire me, what if people will be disappointed in me, what if Wilhemina hates me?''.

You try your best to take deep breaths and push the thoughts away but the only thing usually helpful at keeping the storm and waves of emotions at bay, is the woman you are trying to hide this from. Usually, she could tell by how stressed or anxious you seem and without addressing it much, she will just pull you into her arms or let your exhausted body rest on her lap, the soft hums and stroking her fingers through your hair, stopping the thoughts momentarily.

''Are you getting on Miss?'' you hear a male unfamiliar voice, snapping you out of your thoughts and noticing that somehow the bus already arrived and you blink a few times, confused whether you just stood there for ages, unable to focus on anything in reality anymore or if it just happened to arrive so quickly. ''Miss?'' he tries again, his voice now showing a slight sign of impatience. Your mind automatically connects it with Wilhemina's impatience whenever you would just admire her, completely taken back by her beauty and features and the same agitation in her voice, as she would try to speak to you.

''Yes,'' you quickly say and get on the bus, showing your ticket like you would every morning. Finally collapsing onto the nearest seat you can find, leaning your head against the window and closing your eyes, you feel some of the exhaustion fade as you sit on a comfortable surface. Your thoughts wander back to Wilhemina and it suddenly dawns on you that you haven't even texted her your usual good morning text yet or checked-in how her work is going. A small part of you wants to avoid any confrontation with her today as you are still worried, she will be mad at you.

After all, maybe you could avoid all the questions and confrontation if you simply lied. Of course, you are fully aware it won't be easy to lie to your girlfriend, especially with her always being able to tell but you wonder if you could somehow pull it off. Pretending to still be at work and only got off work a bit earlier, not to worry her and not to argue, as she did tell you after all not to come running to her.

Deciding on actually messaging her and pulling your phone out of your bag, you realize it was a mistake as soon as the bright screen blinds your vision yet again. All you could see before your eyes force shut, is Wilhemina's name on your screen but you can't begin to read the messages as your fragile state isn't allowing you to do so. Deciding on dealing with that later, you rest your head against the window and zone out for a while, trying hard not to fall asleep on the bus and end up somewhere entirely opposite to your direction and final stop- home.

Part of you doesn't remember how you ended up in bed a while later, your brain too tired to remember the details of getting off the bus at the right stop and walking aimlessly for a few minutes before you found yourself in front of your shared apartment. Thankfully, along the way, your subconsciousness took over and guided your body home safely, as you were in no state to focus on much anymore, your body on autopilot mode.

As soon as your tired body finally comes into contact with your mattress, pulling the blanket closer to your face and snuggling up comfortably, you feel relieved, and before any more waves of overwhelming thoughts arrive, your body finally allows itself to rest and you fall into a deep slumber. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered to set an alarm for in a few hours, making sure you would be awake for when Wilhemina would return, even in your sleepy and sick state, still keeping track of everything and keeping your perfect facade up.

However, whenever you try and protect everyone around you, considering every detail perfectly you tend to ignore yourself in the process and checking in on how you are feeling or how decisions might affect you. As a result, you didn't just take a small nap like intended, you fell asleep, sleeping off most of the fever and letting your tired body fight the illness. However, due to your state, you fail to wake up from the alarm or wake up to Wilhemina coming home from work, a little early as she couldn't reach you all day, not the usual lunchtime call or messages you would sent her, no matter how busy you are.

As soon as Wilhemina unlocks the door, discarding her small purple handbag on the table, she walks through the apartment in an effort to find you, her cane hitting the floor hard and with a heavy force, reflecting what she is feeling inside. Of course, she had known you haven't been feeling well and not only hiding it from her but also trying to push through like you usually would. The redhead didn't mean to lash out at you or use the harsh words she did in the end but your actions and behavior reminded the sometimes stern woman of her own behavior. Always ignoring her back pain and pushing through endless emails or documents on her desk, regretting it the same day or days later when the pain felt unbearable, and yet she still hid it from everyone.

She was trying to look out for you, the times she told you not to go in, take a break, and also when she said she wouldn't be there. Of course, she would, Wilhemina loves you and her love for you has been both the most confusing and strong thing she has ever felt for anyone. You had crashed into Wilhemina's life like a thunder, unexpected, and with heavy force, she had no idea the day you walked into her life, it would change everything. It didn't just change Wilhemina herself and being able to open up slowly, it also allowed her to feel emotions and understand them as something positive and not something you should try and hide or avoid at all costs. From day one you had brought out her soft side, allowing those walls to tumble down and letting the light and love into her life as her heart has been a dark and lonely place for long enough.

Her first stop is the kitchen, hoping deep down she wouldn't find you cooking in there, or the dining room with a meal prepared, as she wouldn't want you to overwork yourself even more after work. After not finding you there, she checks the bathroom but no sign of you either, only to finally be met with the bedroom in complete darkness. Slightly dumbfounded, she switches the light on, the lamp slowly filling the room with light and exposing your fragile, shivering body on the bed.

Wilhemina's heart almost breaks at the sight, seeing you in such discomfort and knowing at the same time it must be bad if you voluntarily went to bed early and skip the usual responsibilities that aren't actually your chores or Wilhemina expecting them of you but you thinking that regardless. She slowly approaches the bed, her cane hitting the floor very carefully and quiet now, sure to not wake you up in the process, as she wouldn't want to startle you or add to the discomfort you are in.

She finds you wrapped in a blanket, still wearing the clothes you had left in this morning and Wilhemina knows if you willingly did that, you must have felt awful when you returned home. Her hand wanders closer to your face, gently tucking at the blanket so she can take a look at your face. She gasps a little when she sees how pale you are, droplets of sweat on your forehead at the same time and her heart breaks at the sight, seeing her little one in this much pain and distress.

For a moment the redhead debates what to do as she has never been great at taking care of anyone or allowing people to take care of herself. As a child, she was often told not to exaggerate, that her back pain isn't that bad, that it doesn't need checking out from doctors and that she just has to deal with it. Eventually, she started to believe it and the emotional abuse she suffered in her young years, combined with the pain, made the redhead believe that she isn't worthy of affection or love or someone taking care of her. Even till this day, she barely allows you to help her out with her pains, not liking the fact anyone would show her the affection and tender care that was lacking in her younger years.

Gently, her hand reaches for your forehead, her rational thinking kicking in now to determine the state and severity of your illness. As soon as the back of her palm comes into contact with your forehead, she gasps, her facial expression changing from concerned and wishing she could just cure you right there, into worrying and shock. Her nostrils flare as she has no idea how you managed to get through the last hours and at the same time feeling angry, that you kept her in the dark and didn't call her. A small part of Wilhemina understands however, as she would have done the same thing, hide, keep the perfect smile and pretend like nothing is bothering her.

Wilhemina stands there for a moment, looking over your body exhausted from sickness, deciding on what to do, her rational side is telling her to take you to a doctor but there is no way she would trust them. The redhead woman had too many bad experiences before to trust them again, often mistreated with her back or prescripted the wrong medication and there is no way she would ever let her little one go through similar experiences. In the end, she decides on the only thing logical which is taking care of you herself, right at home. She balances on her cane again, trying to be quiet before walking into the kitchen to retrieve the necessary items.

The ruffling noises, mixed with cane tapping coming from the kitchen, as well as the cold unknown feeling on your forehead a little while ago, end up waking you up from your slumber, and instantly your body tenses up as you realize Wilhemina is home. In your slightly panicked state, overwhelmed with the thoughts on how to get out of this situation, ignoring the throbbing headache or the fact the room is spinning from the lack of food and water today, you once again fail to acknowledge what is right in front of you.

Right in front of you, stands Wilhemina, your girlfriend, a little tray in her hand, trying to balance it with the support of her cane and free hand, looking at you with a confused reaction, both about the fact you are awake and also the fact you are staring at the wall, not moving at all. ''Little one, you are awake'' she states, her voice sounding a little softer than usual. Instantly you snap out of it, panic once again rippling through your body as you fear her reaction, ignoring the fact she is standing in front of you with a little tray with water, soup, and medication.

Wilhemina notices you tensing, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in her back that the carrying of the tray had caused her, she walks closer to the bed, putting the tray on the night table finally, before breathing out a moment as the uncomfortable feeling leaves her. She turns to you, her eyebrows furrowing again, the concern now very visible in her features, unable to hide it any longer and not caring about that, your wellbeing her main priority.

''Little one'' she states, her head tilting slightly and her eyes slowly locking with yours as you force yourself to take a look at your girlfriend. As soon as you take a look at the redhead, you feel partly relieved as there is no sign of anger visible but at the same time, you feel awful for the concern you had caused her, not to mention the back pain you must have caused her, considering her awkward posture, standing in front of you, still balancing both hands on her cane. Finally, as your eyes wander to the little tray, you feel like bursting into tears at the fact Wilhemina had done this for you, considering she must have just returned from work and you knowing how hard things like these are for her with her condition.

''Mina?'' your voice cracks not only from the feeling of knives in your throat as illness seems to have taken up most of your body but also tears building up, both guilty ones putting Wilhemina through the effort as well as sad ones that your walls are breaking down, right here in front of the woman you usually encourage to let her walls down and true emotions in.

''I'm here little one'' she whispers, her hand wandering to your cheek, cupping it gently and stroking it with the back of her palm. It doesn't take words to exchange what is on each other's mind, you feeling sorry for lying and pushing, realizing now that indeed your partner had been right from the start. And Wilhemina also feeling guilty for using such harsh words on you this morning and at the same time upset to see her girl in such distress and pain. As soon as you feel her palm on your cheek, some tears stream down your face as you try and contain the sobs and fight back the last few emotions and thoughts, keeping you from breaking right in front of her.

As soon as Wilhemina feels the tears falling, she catches them with her thumb, wiping them away gently before whispering ''Now don't cry sweet girl'' trying to hide her own emotions and the pain it brings her whenever seeing you upset. Whenever she would see you in any kind of distress or any negative emotion visible in your features it would cause her great pain, a different kind of feeling than her back could ever cause her, as her heart would ache, her only intention to make you smile again, especially in that dorky adorable way she loves and that causes for her heart to flutter, even though she wouldn't admit that to anyone, including you.

After wiping your tears, Wilhemina hands you some water and medication from the tray and you look at her with a slightly confused expression, as you haven't fully realized yet, it doesn't need words for Wilhemina to understand how awful you are feeling. ''Now take them little one, it will make you feel better'' she promises and without thinking twice you lead the tablets to your mouth, swallowing them with some water. The feeling of the cold liquid soothing your throat momentarily distracts you from the pain that you seem to feel all over your body. ''Good girl'' Wilhemina praises as you hand her the bottle, a little smirk rising on your features.

''Now I need you to eat this'' she demands, handing you the bowl of chicken noodle soup, that you usually love. You look at her with a slightly disgusted expression as the thought of food is only adding to the sick feeling in your stomach. ''I know but eat up for me, will you?'' she asks gently, not reminding you of the stern Wilhemina at all. All you can do in response is nod and take the bowl from her hands. ''I will be right back'' she explains, leaving you behind with your soup before walking out of the bedroom. For a moment you debate whether to just abandon the food again, as you genuinely don't feel like eating but there is no way you would let the woman you had fallen in love with, down a second time today.

You enjoy the silence for a moment, the only sounds to be heard, the spoon as it scoops up the liquid, feeling soothing in your throat but painful in your stomach at the same time. Shortly after the sound of a cane fills the room again and with each tap you somehow feel nervous, knowing the conversation was still to be held why you had lied to Wilhemina and not listened to her in the first place, only adding to the anxiety you feel. You see as the redhead walks in with a few towels and your favorite pajamas, that she would usually mock, too ''adorable'' for her liking, as you would usually put it.

''Have you had some?'' she asks and points at the soup and you simply nod while your eyes are begging her not to eat anymore. ''Fine, come on there is a bath waiting for you'' she informs you and you simply nod and slowly make your way out of bed. Midway to the bathroom, you realize how severe the nauseous feeling has been and you hold onto the wall to balance for a moment before you feel a hand on your back. ''I'm right by your side'' you hear Wilhemina's voice behind you and it sends a warm, comfortable fuzzy feeling through your body, reminding you that you aren't alone in this and that your girlfriend has got your back, literally.

You manage to find your way to the bathroom, with the support of Wilhemina's hand on your back and even though it takes you a while, you manage to sit in the bath and let the warm water soothe your skin and tired muscles. ''Do you think you will be okay in here for a bit?'' Wilhemina asks and you simply nod, feeling sleepy and relaxed at the same time. As your partner, walks back in the bedroom to prepare you for the night ahead and her own night which will probably result in no sleep and a lot of worrying over you, you sink a little further into the bath, confusing the bathtub with your own bed for a moment as you feel a little too comfortable.

''Little one are you-'' Wilhemina enters the bathroom, only to find you in the bath, asleep, your head resting on the purple little pillow she had bought a while ago and attached it to the bath. She frowns at the sight for a moment, before her features change as she realizes, this time she is going to have to wake you up, as there is no way her back condition will allow her to simply lift you out of the bath and carry you to bed, as much as she would like to do that. The usual strong woman fights some of her own tears back both at your state but also the painful reminder of her scoliosis.

Slowly you wake up, as you feel some water on your head and a hand washing out some shampoo, combined with a few muffled words that you can't quite understand yet, only just having woken up from your little slumber. ''Little one, wake up we have got to get you out of here'' you hear Mina's voice. You blink a few times, dumbfounded at the fact you are in the bath, not remembering much but feeling that your body is already feeling more relaxed than waking up earlier from your first slumber. ''Mina, what are you doing?'' you question as you realize she is bending awkwardly to wash your hair out and free it from the bubbles of shampoo. Quickly you sit up and free her from the uncomfortable position. ''Come on let's get you out'' she says and with all the strength you have left, you prop yourself up and exit the bath. Soon your skin comes into contact with a warm towel provided by Wilhemina.

You enjoy the feeling for a moment, before slowly getting changed into your pajamas and following your partner back to the bedroom. At this point, the medication has already freed you from most of your pain but your body still feels exhausted, so you quickly lie down in bed and pull the blanket closer, shivering slightly from the cool sensation of the air on your legs. Wilhemina returns to the bedroom, moments later in her purple nightgown, her hair falling loosely now and you admire your girlfriend for a moment, never quite able to believe how lucky you truly are and also always finding yourself taken back by her beauty, after years of being with each other.

The redhead approaches her side of the bed, book in hand as usual but for a change abandoning it on her night table, resting her cane in her usual spot, and carefully sitting down while leaning her back against the headboard of the bed. ''Come here'' she instructs, opening her arms and freeing her lap for you to rest your head in. Usually, she would do this after you had a long day at work, Wilhemina being able to tell instantly what an awful day you must have had and how it exhausted you both mentally and physically.

Reluctantly, you move your tired head onto her lap, still worried deep down about the conversation that is yet to be held and her true feelings about this. You had lied to her, hidden the truth from her and even though the redhead had often done the same, it felt different to you, like a betrayal. Your eyes close as soon as you feel her hands come into contact with your head, her fingers running through your hair gently and momentarily numbing the pain you are in. The smell of lavender sends you in a little dreamlike state as your partner just did a small evening routine instead of the usual, more bothered about making sure you are safe and feeling alright.

''Is that the hand cream?'' you mumble, starting to feel sleepy already as your whole body is ready to forget about today, the medication soothing your tired muscles and keeping your temperature at bay. ''It is little one'' Wilhemina whispers, smiling a little and relieved that you are still somewhat in a clear headspace as you remembered the lavender hand cream you had bought her before. She strokes your hair, untangling some knots gently with her fingertips as there was no time to brush your hair, the idea of the comfortable bed too convincing.

''Are you feeling alright, my darling?'' she asks, noticing how you are already on the verge of falling asleep. ''Hm Mh'' you mumble, as you slowly start falling asleep, despite trying to fight to stay awake to be in your partner's embrace and feel her safety and the warmth she radiates onto you, just a moment longer. She frowns, hating to see you pushing yourself so hard and her not being able to do anything about it, the state you are in now only the result of pushing yourself over the past few days.

''You need to stop being so hard on yourself and pushing'' she warns, knowing deep down you aren't fully aware of her words anymore as you fall into a slumber. ''I just want you to be safe and healthy'' she carries on, holding you in her arms, as if she was trying to shield you from the outside world and things that might be thrown across your way, including yourself. As soon as the redhead hears your little snores, she smiles a little, happy you are at least getting some more rest in her arms and at the same time glad, she is able to protect you now, knowing tomorrow is another day to come to have an actual conversation about this. She averts her gaze, and she is met with the mirror on the other side of the room, seeing you asleep on her lap and for a moment the woman, usually so hard on herself crumbles for a second as tears stream down her cheeks.

She remembers the moments in her younger years or even to this day, where she kept pushing and listening to her parents or the ugly voices in her head, telling her she isn't deserving to take breaks or look after herself. As she sees you safe and sound in her arms she can't help but feel gratitude, that you had walked into her life a while ago, knowing that you both have each other now. At this moment as she watches your tired body, chest rising and falling with each breath, she promises herself to never let you push this much again and to get you to take care of yourself, fully aware it won't be easy as she struggles with those things herself.

''Everything will be okay, I'm here little one you are safe'' she whispers, reassuring you again that you aren't alone in this and that she will be by your side. After watching you for a few seconds longer, she carefully reaches for her book, opening it and keeping herself occupied while she is determined to stay awake, not caring about sleep herself as she feels the need to stay with you and be there for you in case you wake up and need the redhead.

As she opens her book, now occupied by it, you are already asleep, your body slowly healing from today, both a mix of medication, rest but also the tender care, love, and affection Wilhemina has shown you since arriving back home and continues showing, as one of her hands is still rubbing soothing circles on your head, occasionally checking your forehead for a temperature.

[jungcherie]

Mami, put the webcam

—𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: boyfriend!taeyong x reader

—𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 1.7K

—𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: smut

—𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: masturbation, mentions of oral sex, cybersex

—𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: It's your anniversary with him but he's away for work, so you decide to give him a gift by video call.

—𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖮𝖥 𝖯𝖫𝖤𝖠𝖲𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

"Can you decide on one?" You were sitting in one of the dressing rooms of a boutique, accompanying your friend who had to buy a dress for a wedding. She had chosen several but still she couldn't choose one. "Because if you don't, I will"

You spent at least five hours hanging around different stores with no bags in hand.

"They are all very pretty," she says looking at herself for the millionth time in the mirror. You swore that even the employee was tired of seeing her change her outfit. "But I'm between red or pink."

"If the wedding is in a garden, I would say the pink one" you replied reluctantly, hoping that she would listen to you and thus be able to leave. She stopped looking at herself and turned to meet your eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Is your boyfriend not satisfying you enough?"

You knew she was joking, it still affected you, he had been called to do a job in another city. Coincidentally, he had to stay the same week as your anniversary, and this was the first time that you two were away.

"Today is our anniversary" you said quietly, but loud enough for her to hear you. "I'm sorry, Y/N" she caught the voice tone with which you answered, you were a little upset. As soon as you felt her hand on your shoulder, you reacted.

"Don't worry, being the girlfriend of a computer engineer has its benefits." Finally, your friends decided to take the pink dress, just as you advised. A sigh of relief came out of your mouth without her noticing. "Benefits like what?" she asked as she took the money from her wallet and handed it to the employee.

"There are lots of electronic gadgets that go connected to the computer at home," you started, "Taeyong told me about a webcam, and tonight we have a video call? Or something like that, so—"

"I'm not understanding anything" she interrupted, looking at you with a frown, you chuckled at the confusion plastered on her face. "Me neither," you said sincerely, "but what I'm trying to say is, we can talk and see each other at least"

"Well, I'm happy for you, now let me pay you for your time" she started walking animatedly when you stopped in front of a store, all the mannequins were wearing lingerie, different colors, different designs. An idea had crossed your mind. Now your friend would be the one who would have to put up with you choosing clothes.

Later that day, after an extensive shower and a whole personal care routine, you were in a robe, the black lingerie that you had bought was lying on the bed, you were staring at it, debating whether it was a good idea to do what you were thinking.

With half of your nails already bitten off, you decided to do it. You put the bra and panties on, it felt weird and good at the same time. In all these years of being a couple, you've never prepared something like this for Taeyong. It was always cheesy letters and cute gifts, remembering everything you've been through together.

You missed him.

The next step was the computer. Taeyong told you he would finish work in half an hour and that he was going to text you when he did. You had time to connect the headphones, the microphone and the webcam that he mentioned to you.

Anyway, you weren't very well educated about this technology. You logged into the platform he told you once, but you spent a lot of time trying and struggling with all the cables.

Did he really like this?

The screen lit up, it was a videocall solicitude, your boyfriend's username was displayed. You accepted without hesitation and within seconds the image of Taeyong appeared. From what you could tell, he was still in the office, the light wasnt good so you couldn't see him quite well, however his smile made you smile too.

His lips started to move, then you remembered about the sound. "I can't see you, could you connect what I told you?" he asked, still smiling. You looked for the mic and put on your headphones. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you. Put the webcam on"

"It's too complicated." you complained and tried again to plug in what he explained was a USB. "Can you see me now?"

"Yeah, now I can"

"Sorry, I can barely deal with a phone." You were immersed in his face being shown by the computer. You got comfortable, with the bathrobe over what you bought this afternoon and let out a long and heavy sigh.

"Happy anniversary, my love" you said with visible enthusiasm. "Happy anniversary, baby" he responded back.

"Are you still in the office?"

"Yes, it's the only place where I can use a computer, everyone has gone home and in a few days I will be able to go too and we will celebrate as we should, okay?"

You nodded without knowing what to say, the desire to hug and kiss him was great, unfortunately you couldn't do it and you had to abstain for a couple of days to be able to feel his touch again.

"Well," you started a little nervous, "I have prepared a surprise for you." You started playing with your fingers, waiting for an answer from Taeyong, he didn't say anything but the enthusiasm was quite noticeable on his features. "What do you have for me? Why didn't you tell me? I didn't prepare anything, I feel so out of place" He looked like a little boy at Christmas, excited about the presents. That made you feel a more confident.

"Are you completely alone?" you asked before you started fiddling with the white robr. The image of his froze for a moment and a 'wait' was heard, you also took advantage and closed the curtains just in case. You went back to your place before him. "Done, all alone"

"Uhm," you bit your lower lip, searching for the right words and the way to say it, "I was shopping with one of the girls today and I bought this for you."

You got rid of the garment quickly and Taeyong made an 'o' with his lips, he was like that for a minute. You thought you were having a connection problem and the videocall was over, soon, a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

"Did you buy it just for me?" You nodded, "Then let me see you entirely, model for me"

You took off your headphones and walked away from the computer, checking that the camera captured your entire body. From the front and the back, until it crossed your mind to do something else. Adjusting the device a bit to change the angle, you backed away again, and this time you went on your knees to the floor, showing and shaking your ass a bit to provoke him. Your boyfriend was biting his lip and running his hands over his face, a sign that meant he was getting frustrated at not being able to be with you that night, you didn't have to listen to him to know it.

"You gonna be the death of me, girl," he said after you returned to your previous position. You have fun with this whole situation. "You don't know how many things I would do to you if I was there"

The atmosphere began to get a little more serious, the heat was invading your whole body. "Oh yeah? Things like what?" you asked him, challenging him to tell you. Taeyong settled himself before speaking again, now he was leaning against the back of the chair, more comfortable.

"First, I'd kiss your neck, just the way you like it," shit, his voice turned deep, and even through a videocall he still managed to turn you on.

"I really like the lingerie, and I really appreciate that you bought it for me, but you look much better naked" You unbuttoned your bra, exposing your chest. "Like this?" you suggested, playing along, Taeyong was biting his lower lip with a lopsided smile.

"Just like that"

By now you felt a pulse increasing in your core, indicating that you should take care of it soon.

"And I like your ass, but today I would reward you by eating you all, because you have been such a good girl for me"

Gasps began to come out of your mouth just imagining him being there, you couldn't resist and your hand went directly to rub your needy clit. Taeyong, for his part, couldn't hold back either and was already pumping his erection. You couldn't see him directly but you noticed the awkward movement of his arm.

"I've never told you how beautiful you look every time I take care of your pussy, the way your fingers get tangled in my hair..."

Two fingers in and a deep groan echoed through the room, you wished you had him inside you. Despite being at a distance and seeing each other on a screen, the experience felt so close. He threw his head back, enjoying hearing you moan his name and beg for his touch.

Pulse hammering faster, heat intensifying. "Give it to me, I know you are close baby, give it to me, don't be shy" he whispered with hoarse voice. You looked directly at the webcam, so that your eyes would reach Taeyong's, mouth ajar with your hand moving fast until you felt your muscles tense from the incredible climax you had. "That's right, baby girl"

Taeyong decided not to cum, because he was at the office and wasnt in his hotel room. The privacy of the place where he was was scarce, plus, he had his suit still on and he didn't want to mess it up with his release.

Once you had recovered your breath and still being naked, you were going to say goodbye to your boyfriend to go to sleep,and you couldn't do it because the call ended abruptly.

Sorry about that, someone came and I wasn't going to let someone see you like that in any way

Happy anniversary, darling

ps: I already told you how beautiful you look when you cum? ily <3

[rkived]

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 04 │ JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader 

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) angst as per usual what’s new, jk is sad, reader is sad, sunhi is sad, everyone’s just SAD

↳ RATING: (for this chapter) PG

↳ WORD COUNT: 4k 

↳ SYNOPSIS: Jungkook’s been feeling a little weird lately. Maybe it’s got something to do with his crumbling marriage and the way you seem to care for his daughter more than his own wife.

↳ A/N: ehem let’s pretend like i didn’t ghost this story for like half a year aha i’ve written more than this for cp but i decided to just divide it and leave the juicy stuff for the last chapter !! sorry for making u wait so long </3 anyway hope u enjoy still n i’ll see u in a couple months for the final chapter of cp!! (i’m jking…..or am i?)

01 02 03 04 05 (coming soon)

Minji thinks you’re starting to get better. 

Well, she hopes you are because it’s been two months since you broke the news on her and anyone would think that’d it be long forgotten by now. She tries to stop as often as she can to check up on you, even though you assure her that you’re fine and that a simple text would suffice instead of having her come over every day in between. 

Which is why she’s unsure if giving you the invitation Jungkook had handed her about two weeks ago was a good idea, considering that it’s been a few days since you had last even mentioned him to her like you usually did before. In fact, today you look like you’re at peace for the very first time.

‘‘I did yoga!’’ You explain when she mentions that you look different, ‘‘I still can’t face going back to Namjoon’s class, but I remember a ton of positions he taught us!’’ 

Minji has to force herself to smile, her hand lingers inside the purse she’s carrying as her fingers fiddle with the cardstock paper waiting patiently to be handed. 

‘‘And then I stopped for some yogurt at the place down the─’’

‘‘I need to give this to you,’’ Minji stops your ramble and you’re taken aback by how urgent her voice sounds, very unlike her. ‘‘I promised I’d get this to you, so…’’ 

You’re about to ask her what she’s on about when she abruptly hands what you could make out to be a colorful piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight, completely confused until it suddenly hit you what it is that your friend’s talking about.

‘‘How did you─?’’ 

Minji gives you half a smile and shakes her hand so you can take the card instead of just staring at it, ‘‘Just─take it.’’

Your hand reaches out to grab it from her and your eyes quickly focus on the unicorn and sparkles themed birthday invite. It reads that it’s Sunhi’s birthday and that you are invited! You recognize the handwriting that filled the party’s information details, you always thought he had really nice penmanship. 

‘‘I think you should go,’’ Minji’s voice sounds like she’s faraway, but she’s just a few feet away from you, ‘‘for Sunhi.’’ 

You’re still staring at the invitation, memorizing every single detail. There’s so many unicorns, when did she start liking the mythical creature? She had never mentioned a liking towards them to you ever. You assume it must’ve happened during these few months of your absence.

How many moments have you missed? How many unanswered questions must Sunhi have by now? How many new toys has she had to wait to show you? How many kindergarten stories has she been saving to tell you? 

You’ve been counting. Sixty days have passed since you last saw Sunhi. It’s been seven Fridays since you last had her in your arms. 

Sixty days and seven Fridays since you kissed Jungkook. Fifty-nine days since you blocked him. 

Minji is still waiting for any sort of reaction from you. You’re stoically analyzing the piece of paper and she wonders what is it that you’re thinking or feeling. Is it good, bad or all in one? Whatever it is, her small deed is done. 

‘‘Y/N?’’ She calls out, you slowly nod and take your eyes from the invitation from the first time since she gave it to you. ‘‘Do you mind if I go? I have some stuff to─’’

A small gasp escapes your lips, ‘‘Yes Minji, of course!’’ Your friend smiles slightly and you proceed to escort her out your apartment. She actually doesn’t have anything to do, but she thinks it’s best if you get some space to take everything in. 

Minji notices how you’re still holding on to the birthday invite and she has to suppress a chuckle because she knows you’re most likely doing this absentmindedly. 

Before you’re able to thank her for coming, she stops you to say one last thing. ‘‘If you don’t want to go, then don’t,’’ she begins and your eyebrows raise at your friend’s comment. ‘‘Whatever it is that you decide on doing, I’ll support you either way,’’ Minji offers you a genuine smile and you can’t help but hug her tightly.

You’re alone again. Loneliness has come in waves as of lately. You’ve lived alone for years now, you’re used to being the only person present in your apartment ─ but that fact hasn’t felt more obvious than since you shunned Jungkook out. 

Good days eventually turn sour. The times where it seems like you can go on about your life without thinking about him and what he might be up to quickly change because your mind makes you feel bad about feeling good. 

Why did you cut him off knowing his daughter idolizes you like no other? Why did you selfishly decide to block him when you could’ve just talked it out? Why didn’t you stop him that night if you knew things would change between you two? Why did you let him kiss you knowing it was going to hurt in the end?

You know Sunhi’s fourth birthday is coming up. It’s one of those dates you can’t simply forget, it comes naturally to you. You had settled with the idea that you weren’t going to be invited this time around, it would’ve been okay since you think it’s what you deserve anyway. If Jungkook had taken you off the guest list, he was in his total right to do so. 

You want to be mad at him right now.

Why would he invite you? Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were? You wish you were angry, but you’re not. You feel slightly comforted with the fact that he had decided to include you even with everything that went down. In fact, not inviting you would’ve been selfish knowing that Sunhi must want you there. 

And if the invitation wasn’t enough of a sign that you should go, two days ago you got an email that the gift you had preordered for Sunhi some time ago was on its way to your place. Just in time for her birthday party. 

That’s life for you. 

You’re quick to remind yourself of Minji’s last words to you. You’re not obligated to go and if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. But you’d be lying if you said that because you really want to go, but there’s still some things that are holding you back. Your brain starts breaking down the pros and cons of going. 

The pros: You’d get to see Sunhi again, who you missed terribly and a tiny part of you was wishing that she didn’t hate you for suddenly leaving. It’s too much to ask for, but you do hope that Jungkook had come up with something instead of telling her upfront that you had left. 

The cons: You’d have to see Jungkook. Having to face the awkwardness of knowing you had blocked his number, prohibiting him from contacting you and discussing what happened like adults would do. 

Oh, and you’d see Jiwoo too and pretend like you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her husband. 

Whatever decision it is, you’d only have two days to decide.

Jungkook smiled warmly as he looked at Sunhi twirling in her green and purple dress in front of the long length mirror in his bedroom. Ever since he got the garment in the mail, he had to hide it from her curious hands because if it were up to her she’d be wearing it day and night. 

‘‘Daddy, I look so cute!’’ Sunhi said with an excited tone, hopping in her place. The tull of her skirt followed her movements, making the glittery details sparkle brightly caused by the natural sunlight slipping through the curtain cracks. 

He chuckled, ‘‘You do, Pumpkin, but you need to settle down.’’ Jungkook placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, making his daughter’s bouncing cease. ‘‘You gotta be fully energized for the party, alright?’’ She nodded quickly, but he could still feel the excitement radiate from her. 

‘‘Gramma will do my braid, daddy.’’ Sunhi let him know once she noticed her father take a brush in his hand. The little girl much rather have her hair tangled in knots than having him attempt to do any sort of hairstyles on her. 

Jungkook pouts, but nods understanding. He’s thankful that his parents had made the trip from Busan this year. He knows his mother knew he would have a hard time setting everything up by himself this time around. His parents would normally miss Sunhi’s parties due to the distance, but he’d make it up to them by visiting the following weekend and doing a smaller gathering at their house instead. 

Things feel different. One could say that this time, everything is exactly where it should be. Sunhi’s growing older, his parents are here and not far away like usual, Jiwoo’s no longer in the picture, he’s picking back up the things that used to make him happy. There’s just a missing piece that doesn’t allow him to declare the puzzle’s finished.

And his daughter hasn’t really been helpful in allowing him to forget about it either. 

‘‘Daddy, is Auntie Y/N going to come?’’ She asked for what seemed the thousandth time that week alone. The younger girl only wanted to make sure you’re coming even though her father had reassured her that you might be making an appearance. 

Jungkook hummed, pursing his lips together, ‘‘Well, I don’t know if Auntie Y/N will manage to catch her flight in time for your party, but hopefully she’ll come,’’ he painfully lied and Sunhi nodded with a pout, she was hoping she’d get a different answer this time around, but still settles with her father’s explanation. 

Ever since you left, it had been part of her daily routine to ask about you and your whereabouts. Jungkook hated lying to his daughter, but he knew that even if he were to explain the ending of your friendship, she wouldn’t be able to understand. He had foolishly hoped that after telling her, repeatedly, that you had been out of the country because of your job, Sunhi would get the clue that you showing up at her birthday party was very unlikely. 

He can’t blame her because he’s also been hoping that you’ll show up for whatever reason. Jungkook’s aware that Minji had made no promises of you attending, but that little bit of faith he still had, clung onto you tightly. 

He’s let go of so many things recently, but he refuses to add you to that painful list. 

‘‘I miss Auntie Y/N,’’ Sunhi mumbled to herself, but Jungkook heard her clearly and his heart shattered at the longing in his daughter’s voice.

That’s why he’s relieved that she’s now running around the yard with her friends from the kindergarten she attends, screaming in glee as they all chase each other around the grass. The PinkFong playlist he had put together earlier that week has been a hit with the children, who danced and sang along to the lyrics; although some parents might’ve gotten tired of hearing the infantile music after a while. Jungkook himself is part of the people who much rather listen to something else, but it’s worth it if it means he catches Sunhi humming along to the tunes every once in a while. 

Having to entertain the parents has taken his mind off of knowing you’re not there. The party started two hours ago and you’re never late for anything, especially his daughter’s birthday celebrations. He’s settling with the idea that you’re no longer coming while he dabbles in serving food and refilling drinks, all the while having to make conversation with the parents of the invited kids. 

He can feel just how bad they feel for him, the word’s gotten around the PTA committee that he’s in the process of divorcing while taking full custody of his daughter.

‘‘Jungkook, how are you doing?’’ One of the invited moms asked him with a tactful tone, accompanied by a gentle smile that made him feel like a child for a mere moment. With a smile that could put anyone’s worries at ease, Jungkook assured her ─and the rest of the worrying mothers─ that he was doing just fine. 

It’s Sunhi’s day, it’s her party, a few more hours and you can cry all about it when she’s sleeping, had become his mantra as the party goes on.

‘‘What’s with the long face?’’ His mother suddenly asks him after he finishes placing the candles on Sunhi’s unicorn themed cake. 

Jungkook furrows his brows, ‘‘The unicorn’s face looks pretty alright to me,’’ he comments looking at the fondant shaped mythical creature at the top of the cake. 

Mrs. Jeon rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly at his son’s obliviousness, ‘‘I’m talking about your long face. Is everything alright?’’ She asks in genuine concern, making him sigh as he scratches the back of his neck. ‘‘It’s not because of Jiwoo, right?’’ The woman cautiously asks, afraid the mention of her son’s ex partner might be too sensitive.

The news of the divorce had surprised his parents, but they weren’t completely heartbroken about it. They had known her for years, but it had never been a close relationship at that. His mother had made a couple of comments here and there before concerning his ex partner’s behavior, but were always overlooked by Jungkook.  

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘I’m fine, mom. I’m just kinda tired.’’ 

For someone who hates lying, he’s been doing it a lot recently. 

His mother doesn’t seem so sure about his answer, but decides not to interrogate him any further since she knows her son has been dealing with too much recently and she didn’t want to add her nagging to the list. 

Eventually the party guests all sing happy birthday to Sunhi as she sits behind her cake clapping alongside them, mumbling the famous song as she waits for everyone to finish so she can blow the four candles out and make a wish. She closes her eyes with force, putting her hands together as the guests watch her silently mouth words out. 

‘‘What did you wish for, Sunhi?’’ One of the kids excitedly asks her, fingers curling around her arm as he waits for her to answer. 

Sunhi hmphs and turns her face away from him, ‘‘If I say it out loud it won’t come true!’’ 

Jungkook can only hope his daughter had asked for something he’s able to buy. The newest Barbie doll, a trip to the zoo, that pretty tutu she saw at the store. Anything that is at arm’s reach from him to give her. But Jungkook knows his daughter all too well, those things don’t really matter to her right now. 

Sunhi’s wish is something he can’t obtain ─ someone that’s no longer a call away from him. His daughter doesn’t know, but he’s wished for the same thing too. 

You to come back. 

The small pieces of confetti on the ground, paper decorations pasted on the wall and hanging from the ceiling of the house are enough to give away that a party had happened the day before, and that someone had been too tired by the end of it to even attempt to clean up. 

Even the thought of having to deal with all of the mess that his living room currently looks like is already making Jungkook regret not accepting his mother’s willingness to help after the party had ended yesterday, assuring her that she had done enough that day and that it was only fair he took care of the cleaning. 

Sunhi’s birthday had gone smoothly for the most part.

And as Jungkook scrolls through his phone’s gallery, smiling warmly at the small clips he managed to capture of his gleeful daughter running around the yard with her friends and the multitude of pictures his mother took of her blowing the candles of the cake out, granted, majority of them blurry, he is reminded that, although the party had been a success, the aftermath hadn’t been as pretty.

The party was over when he started hearing the first goodbyes and thankful comments of the parents for inviting them over, wishing Sunhi a final happy birthday before they took their sleepy kids in their arms. He had hoped his daughter would be drained too, despite the amount of sugar she had a few hours before. 

‘‘Auntie Y/N didn’t come.’’ Sunhi had stated, a pout on her trembling lips as she looked up at her tired father. ‘‘Why didn’t she come?’’ She asked in genuine curiosity as her eyes started glossing with tears.

Jungkook sighed, ‘‘Pumpkin, I told you she’s not in town. I’m sorry she─’’ It didn’t matter what excuse he had given her, the waterworks had begun. He hadn’t seen his daughter cry like that in a long time and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do to get her to stop. 

Even if he tried to coax her with distractions, like the number of gifts she had received from the guests or telling her he’d let her have another slice of cake if she stopped crying. He knew that what his daughter wanted wasn’t toys or food. She wanted you. And as much as Jungkook wants you just as much, he’s lost on ways to make you come back. 

Sunhi cried for what seemed like hours, his parents had even tried to cheer the little girl up by promising to take her to their house the very next morning for the rest of the weekend, to which she merely nodded as she fell asleep from exhaustion on her father’s chest. 

He envied her as he remained awake for most of the night, tears streaming down his face as guilt ate him away for his daughter’s heartbreak. 

It’s his fault after all. 

Jungkook isn’t upset you didn’t show up, you didn’t have to. Not even Sunhi could make you come back. Selfishly kissing you that night had changed the course of your relationship forever and that meant that his daughter would have to pay for his wrongdoings. 

With the absence of Sunhi, he’s reminded of just how big his house feels when he’s by himself. Ever since Jiwoo moved out, the only company he’s had is that of his daughter and it’s more than enough. With her dancing around the hallways and singing songs to the top of her lungs, Jungkook doesn’t feel as lonely.

He must’ve missed the knocking at the door or the ringing doorbell ─if there even was one─ because of the earphones he had on while he swept the confetti paper scattered on the hardwood floor of his home because by the time he opens his door to get a run around the neighborhood, he notices there’s a gift placed in his front doorstep. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow with confusion, unsure of why it was there in the first place. He’s sure Sunhi had opened all of her gifts last night, lazily and not very excited about them after her big cry, but she had made sure to leave them all unwrapped.

The medium-sized box is wrapped with a white and pink polka-dot paper, a cute golden ribbon placed right in the middle of it. Jungkook picks it up, bringing it closer for better inspection. Maybe it was from one of the kids that couldn’t make it? Although, they could’ve just gave it to Sunhi when they saw her at school again.

His eyes widen and his heartbeat races up when he reads the sticker tag with the name of the person responsible for the gift. 

‘‘To: Sunhi ♡

From: Auntie Y/N’’

His eyes scan the tag over and over again, just to make sure he’s reading the name correctly. When he manages to take his attention away from it, he looks around the street in hopes that he’d find you. 

How long has this been out here? Could he have caught a glimpse of you had he been less distracted? 

Although it feels wrong to open his daughter’s gift without her consent, he feels the urgent need to peek at what’s inside. His mind even tries to reason with himself, telling him it’s probably only a doll or a clothing item, like the other gifts Sunhi had received from the birthday guests yesterday. 

With a click of his tongue, he forgoes doing the right thing and tells himself that he’ll just wrap the gift again before Sunhi comes back from his parent’s house. 

The cute wrapping paper is thrown over his shoulder carelessly as he quickly unveils a white cardboard box, tilting his head slightly at what could possibly be inside. When he takes the top off, a soft gasp escapes his lips. 

A pink and white digital camera aimed for children lies inside, there’s decorative paper placed around it and a note inside. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, taking it delicately in his hand as he reads the words written in the familiar handwriting that hasn’t changed from all those years back in college. 

‘‘Happy 4th birthday, Sunhi! Since you’re growing older, I wanted to gift you something different this year around. Your daddy loves taking videos and I thought you should start doing it too, maybe he’ll pick his camera back up again haha. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see you blow your candles out, I hope all your wishes come true! I love you and miss you so much, 

-Auntie Y/N’’

Jungkook blinks back the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He places the note back inside the box and breathes in deeply, exhaling slowly as he stares at the gift. No one but you could come up with an idea like this. It hurts him, but he smiles slightly at your thoughtfulness. 

A different feeling arises inside him as he holds the gift in his hand, looking at it like this is the sign he had been sent from above. The last thread of his string of faith. He doesn’t even think twice, placing the gift gently inside and rushing to step outside to close the door. 

He’ll go on that run, just not around his neighborhood. 

As he runs past rows of houses and stores, the voice inside his head tries to tell him that he should think rationally. There’s a reason why you didn’t show up yesterday and another for you dropping the gift in front of his house without a sound. You don’t want to see him and yet he’s running straight towards you even if he knows this is hopeless. 

He manages to shut that voice off as he maintains his rapid pace, rushing past the rows of buildings he’s familiar with and the street names he’s memorized by now. It all feels so different when he’s not behind the wheel, he usually always has to depend on his GPS to help him reach places. Your address, though, is one he proudly knows by heart. 

As Jungkook stands outside your apartment building, he stares at it with the sound of his heart drumming inside his ears. Catching his breath, he’s reminded of the many times these past few months he’s been here, with Sunhi fast asleep in her car seat at the back. 

He always pictured going up, knocking at your door, and begging for forgiveness, all for you to turn him down in the end with a gut-wrenching I don’t want you in my life anymore and a door closing on his face. That’s why he always drove away, deciding that uncertainty is better than hearing you reject him.

This time, though, nervous and unsure as he usually is when he comes here, Jungkook breathes in deep and ignores the familiar knot formed inside his stomach. 

He decides that uncertainty isn’t a feeling he wishes upon you.