#maybe send us an introduction video now too?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Something New - One Shot

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

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

Words: 20K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Every other weekend, same as before.”

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

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

“You’re taking them from me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you, Ben?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning, Y/N.”

“Hi, Millie.”

“Cream no sugar, right?”

“That’s right, thank you so much.”

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

“Oh my, well, alright.” She chuckles.

“I put everything on your calendar for you.”

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

“it’s okay.” He says. “Are you new?”

“Yeah, I’m Riley.”

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

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

“Where’d you move from?”

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

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

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

“I…uh…like your pin.”

“Oh, thanks.” He mumbles.

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

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

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

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

Riley nods and continues to listen to Mr. Styles.

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

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

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

She nods and looks at Chris.

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

“Um, hi.” She says shyly.

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you later.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How was it?”

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

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

“Me too!”

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

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

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

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

“Just crawl in on the other side, H.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re Riley’s mum?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She apologized.”

“Good for her.”

“Harry…”

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

“What?! When did she text you?”

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

“You should just block her number.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

“Mhm.” She beams.

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

“I’m looking forward to it, honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, Mrs. Davidson, come on in.”

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

“My mistake, Riley’s last name is-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

She blushes slightly and clears her throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Makes sense, it’s past eight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew you’d find me.” He smirks.

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

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

For whatever reason that makes her blush.

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

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

“No, the sauces are fine, thank you.”

“So, where’s the-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have a good weekend, see you Monday.”

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

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

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

“Any plans?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great, I’ll find you later then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you…”

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

“Hey.” She smiles. “How was Dad’s?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” They say in unison.

“Alright, go get ready for bed then.”

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

“Done already?” He jokes with a whisper.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

“Grab them for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you so much, Mr. Styles.”

“Don’t mention it.”

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

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

“Hi, Harry, it’s Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

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

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

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

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

“That’d be great.” She smiles.

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

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

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

“I bet you will be.”

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

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

“Yeah!”

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

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

“What’s up, Austin?”

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

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

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

“How come you’re here?” He asks her.

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Yeah, um, maybe I will.”

“Cool.”

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

He stands up and goes to Harry’s desk.

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

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

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

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

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

“If you go, can I go?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Got a 92!”

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

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

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

“No! Just making an observation.”

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

“Same to you.”

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

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

“A boy asked her to go!”

“Shut up, or you can’t come with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“6:30, I think.”

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

“Awesome, thanks Mum.”

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Harry.”

“Hi, do you have a minute?”

“Sure! Is everything alright with Riley?”

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

“Oh…what’s up?”

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

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

Niall gestures for the phone and snatches it from Harry.

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

“I’m plenty involved!”

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

“I’ll think about it.”

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

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

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

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

“Is our team any good?”

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

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

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

“How can you tell?”

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

“Teachers actually do that?!”

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

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

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

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

“Is he nice?”

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

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

“Mum, can we bowling?” Riley asks.

“With who?”

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” Riley asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you in a rush to get home?”

“Well…I…”

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

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

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

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

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

“So…why with me then?”

“You’re cute.” He grins.

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?”

“Sure, you really know how to fill out a pair of jeans. Your bum looked awfully cute at homecoming.”

“All this coming from the guy who was about ready to murder me for almost scratching his car.” She scoffs.

“I have apologized for that over and over, but clearly my words mean nothing to you…” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe there’s something else I could do to make it up to you.”

“You’re my kid’s teacher, Harry.”

“Not after 2PM I’m not. Right now I’m just a guy who wants to fuck you.”

“I can’t go back to your place with you right now.”

“My car’s got tinted windows and a spacious back seat.”

“How…how old are you, anyways? I mean, I’m thirty-three, Harry, and you’re a little baby faced. I’m not one of those people who-“

“I’m twenty-nine. Do you wanna go fuck in my car or not? It’s okay if you don’t, I’m not trying to pressure you, but it’s bloody cold out here and I wouldn’t mind warming up.”

Y/N hadn’t had sex with someone in since the last time her and Joseph had sex, which was a few years ago. She also couldn’t remember the last time she had sex in a car, probably when she was a teenager. Was she really about to do this with some she had just started to become decent friends with? Was this is the only reason he wanted to be friends with her?

“Is the only reason you’ve been wanting to invite me out? To get my pants off?”

“No! I genuinely think you’re nice to be around, but I also wouldn’t mind getting your pants off.” He smirks.

“Okay.” She nods. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Quickly, before I change my mind.” He grabs her by the wrist and tugs her towards his car. He unlocks his car and he lets her get in first. He reaches forward to turn the car on so the heat is on and there’s a little music playing. He goes to cup her cheek, and she backs away. “I’m a little nervous.”

“We don’t have to do anything crazy if you don’t want. We could just kiss if you like.”

“I just…it’s been a while for me, you know? Like, a long while, so…I want to, I’m just nervous.”

“How can I help you relax?”

“I guess…um…could I sit on your lap and maybe we could hug for a bit?”

“Sure.” He nods.

She moves to straddle him, and she wraps her arms around his neck. His go around her back, and he rubs her soothingly. He gets a good whiff of her perfume, and it makes him smile.

“Comfortable?” He asks softly. She hums her response and he holds her a little tighter. “I like whatever perfume you’re wearing.” He feels her giggle against him.

“It’s just apple spice.” She mutters into his neck, and moves to look at him. “Nothing special.”

“Well, I like it.” He tucks some hair behind her ear. “Would it be alright If I kissed you now?”

“Yeah.” She smiles.

He licks his lips and presses them to hers. Her eyes flutter closed and she tugs at his hair. His hands squeeze her hips as the kiss deepens. He sucks on her bottom lip, and it makes her whimper. She rolls her hips down on his and he grunts. He kisses sloppily from her mouth, to her jaw, and to her neck. He mouths at her neck, full well knowing he can’t leave a mark, but it doesn’t stop him from licking and sucking a little over the area. She tugs at his hair a little harder and continues grinding against him, feeling his bulge getting harder. His lips move back to hers as his hands roam up her front, hesitating before reaching her breasts. She takes his hands and puts them over her boobs, squeezing his hands over them. He takes over from there, kneading them as best he could over her coat.

She gets frustrated, and get shimmies her coat off. He’s happy to see her nipples peeking through her shirt. He moves to suck on it through the material and she gasps. Her chest was heaving when he came off and looked up at her. Her hands move to unbutton her jeans, and he wastes no time sticking his hand inside. Instead of smirking when he feels how wet she is, he presses his lips back to hers, loving knowing that he was turning her on this much. His fingers move along her folds, and he slips his middle finger inside her gently. He groans when he feels how tight she is.

“Christ, you weren’t kidding. Do you never use anything at home?”

“Who the fuck has the time?!” She huffs as he starts bringing his finger in and out. “M’too exhausted half the time, and even when they’re gone I just do something quick.” A moan leaves her lips when his thumb starts to circle around her clit. Her forehead presses against his, and her eyes pinch closed.

He gets his ring finger inside her as well, and he curls them both up. She moves back and forth on him, riding his fingers. She makes fists with his shirt, and she starts panting. He groans from watching her, and just from the way she feels. He pets against her g-spot, and his thumb works into her clit.

“Oh, oh my god.” She says, biting her bottom lip. “I…I think I’m gonna come.” He doesn’t let up on her, doing his best to get her there. Her whimpers and whines were just egging him on. “Oh, shit, oh, shit!” She cries out as she comes around his fingers. He works her through it, and then retracts his fingers, sucking on them while making eye contact with her.

“Well?” He smirks.

“Do you have any condoms?”

“Yeah, get your pants the rest of the way off.” He lifts her off of him and places her on the seat while he reaches forward into the console, and grabs a condom.

“Aren’t you a little old to be leaving condoms in your car?” She says as he slips her jeans and underwear off.

“Wouldn’t be able to fuck you if I didn’t, would I?” He winks, and undoes his belt and jeans. “Think you’ll be able to ride me reverse, or do you need to go missionary to ease you into it.”

“Don’t be an asshole, I know how to have sex, it’s just bene a while.”

“I wasn’t! I don’t wanna hurt you.” Her eyes widen as he pulls his hard dick from his boxers, rolling the condom on.

“You think you’re the first guy with a larger prick to fuck me? Think I can handle it.”

“Now who’s being the asshole?” He chuckles and grabs her to bring her back to his lap, her back pressed to his chest. He reaches around to rub on her to make sure she’s still wet. “You want this still?”

“Yeah.” She lifts her hips and he lines himself with her, pressing up into center. It’s a tight squeeze, like she thought it would be, but she does her best to relax around him. She nearly shrieks once she’s sat fully on him.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.” He says into her ear before nibbling on her earlobe.

She hooks an arm around his head while he grips her hips, and her head falls back to his shoulder. He thrusts up into her while rubbing on her clit, and her mouth falls open. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, this was incredible. She tugs on his hair and helps herself move on him so he doesn’t have to do as much work. He frees up one of his hands to grip and squeeze one of her breasts. She looks up at him and yanks his head down to hers. She licks into his mouth and he moans into her. He sucks on her tongue and her eyes roll back. Between that, his fingers on her slit, and his dick fucking up into her, she was about ready to lose it again. She pants into his mouth as she comes again. He thrusts begin to get sloppy, and then he’s spilling into the condom. They sit there for a moment catching their breaths before she moves off him.

They both get dressed, and Harry throws the condom into a nearby trashcan as he walks her back to her car. Her face was flushed, and she for sure looked like a mess, but she felt good. He cups her cheeks and backs her up against the driver’s side door, kissing her tenderly.

“That was fun.” He says.

“Yeah.” She breathes and looks down at her watch. It was already 11:30. “Shit, I really need to get home. Ben gets worried when I’m out late.”

“Sweet kid.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, get home safe and all that.”

“You too.” She smiles and opens her car door. He closes it for her once she’s inside, and she starts the car.

As Y/N drives home it starts to hit her what she just did. She just fucked her child’s biology teacher, who she also happens to technically work with. Never in her life had she done something like this. Maybe in her younger days she would have done something this rebellious, but she had grown up a lot, and she was a professional now. She takes a deep breath before keying into her home. She sighs when she sees the light from the TV coming from the living room. Riley and Ben were passed out on the couch.

“Hey, kids.” She coos. “Wake up, I’m home.”

“Mum?” Ben says sleepily. “Where were you?”

“I…I was out with friends, remember? Um, let’s get you both into bed.”

She turns the TV off as they both slowly make their way upstairs to their bedrooms. Once they’re both in their beds, she goes into her own room, and gasps once she gets a good look at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was smeared, and her hair was a mess.

“Christ, Y/N, what did you do?” She says to herself and sighs.

The next day, Y/N was walking around like she had a stick up her ass. Maybe her body wasn’t quite ready for someone of Harry’s size. Nevertheless, she had to get up and start her day. She got some laundry going, did some dusting, and then made some breakfast for the kids. They both come into the kitchen around 10.

“Can you both put your sheets in the laundry room for me? I’m doing a linen load in a bit.” They both nod as she puts two plates of eggs in front of them. “How was bowling?”

“So much fun!” Riley says. “I actually got a strike, I couldn’t believe it.”

“You did?! How’d you manage that?”

“Um…Austin helped me, you know the one in my bio class? He’s really nice.”

“Riley, I’m happy for you and all, but I don’t know if I want you dating yet.”

“I’m not dating anyone! At least I wasn’t the one who stayed out until nearly midnight doing god knows what.”

“I’m an adult, I can do what I want, that’s one. Two, if you and this boy decide you really like each other, I think it’s only fair I get to meet him.”

“Just because he helped me bowl a ball doesn’t mean anything.” She rolls her eyes.

“What about you, did you have fun?” Y/N sighs as she asks Ben.

“Yeah, I hung out in the arcade, it was sick.”

Just as she was sipping on her coffee, Y/N’s phone goes off. It was in front of Riley and Ben, and Riley furrows her brows.

“Who is it?” Y/N asks.

“Um…Mr. Styles. Why is he calling you?”

“I…I have no idea.” She snatches her phone quickly. “H-hello?”

“Hey, Y/N! Just wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m alright, um, I’m in the kitchen with the kids, could you just give me a second?” She leaves the room and goes down the hall to her home office. “Okay…um, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I just didn’t wanna be a dick and not call.”

“Well, that’s nice of you.” She blinks a few times.

“So…you feel okay about everything?”

“Yeah! Wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t. Little sore, but other than I’m good.” She chuckles slightly and so does he.

“Well, next time I can be a little gentler…if you’d like there to be a next time, that is.”

“You…you don’t want last night to just have been a one-time thing?”

“Not necessarily, I had a good time with you, and I think you had a good time with me.”

“I just…I don’t know how smart it would be to start something up with my kid’s teacher.”

“Well, you already sort of did…”

“Yes, but I think to continue it would be stupid. I don’t want to do anything that could potentially embarrass her. Riley and Ben are really starting to make friends. They were cool about moving here for me, so I want to be-“

“It’s not like we’re dating, Y/N. No one has to know.”

“As if you haven’t told Niall yet.” She scoffs.

“I mean he was curious as to why I didn’t come back to the bar last night, but I didn’t give him the full details. He knows how to keep things to himself.” He pauses for a moment. “Look, I get it, you’re just trying to be a good mum, I can admire that. But after a certain point you need to remember that it’s okay to do things for yourself.”

“Like fuck a guy in a parking lot?”

“Exactly!” He laughs. “You’re still so young, why not let yourself have some fun?

“Harry…”

“All I’m saying is, if you’re ever lonely, or if you can’t sleep…you can call me.”

“I’ll…I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to them. Probably wondering what we’re talking about.”

“Yeah.”

“Have a good rest of your weekend.”

“You too.”

She hangs up, completely shocked by the conversation she just had with Harry. She goes back out to the kitchen where the kids were waiting with raised eyebrows.

“What did Mr. Styles want?” Riley asks.

“Oh, um, someone left their wallet at the restaurant we all went to last night, that’s all. He was trying to figure out who it belongs to.”

“There was no ID in it?” Ben asks.

“Apparently not.” Y/N shrugs.

At first, Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to take Harry up on his offer. She genuinely didn’t want to make things difficult for Riley. When mid-November rolled around, it was time for parent-teacher conferences. These were the more serious one on one meetings before the holiday season to make sure students would be able to pass all of their classes. More often than not Y/N found herself meeting with Ben’s teachers than with Riley’s, but Y/N wanted to check in with everyone to make sure her kids were acclimating to the new school fine. What she wasn’t expecting was for Joseph to want to come to the conferences as well. She got away with blushing a little when they saw Niall. He didn’t make anything awkward, but it was when they made their way to Harry’s room that she was starting to feel like she wanted to vomit. The door swings open and two people walk out. Harry steps out and looks into the hallway, smiling when he sees you, then frowning when he sees Joseph.

“Mr. Davidson! How nice to see you again, please come in.” Harry says, gesturing to step inside. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Harry.”

“You can call me Joseph.” Joseph says as he sits down and Harry nods.

Harry and Y/N make eye contact briefly, and then he clears his throat.

“Well, I’m not sure why Riley signed you both up.” Harry chuckles. “She’s doing exceptionally well, and not just in my class. She’s a bright girl.” He takes out a few of her lab reports. “The first semester tends to be easier since we’re learning more about plants and those types of organism. Next semester we get into zoology and human anatomy. I always make it known there’s study groups and after school help. I try to make it as engaging and fun as I can. We even play a few rounds of operation.”

This makes you smile as Joseph furrows his brows at Riley’s lab reports. He nods along with what Harry is saying.

“I’m glad she’s doing so well. She was sort of a big fish in a small pond at her last school.” Joseph says. “I was a little worried she’d feel overwhelmed. This transition for them was really abrupt.”

“They had most of the summer to get used to things.” Y/N says, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t a snotty school either, the teacher’s actually help the students succeed.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Listen.” Harry cuts in. “Seems like you two might have some things to discuss that don’t really involve me. Riley’s doing great, and Niall tells me Ben’s doing just as great. Nothing really more to it.”

Joseph nearly had a decade on Harry, but Harry owned this room. Having Joseph be put in his place definitely did something for Y/N. She can’t help but smirk as Joseph sits up straight.

“Yes, well…thank you. We’ll make sure to relay the message to them.” He says and Harry nods. Joseph stands up, as does Y/N.

“Y/N, did you happen to drive separately? An alum emailed me today, and I have a couple of questions about our donation site.”

“Oh! Sure, I can stay a few moments.” She looks a Joseph. He stands there for a moment, looking between the two of them.

“Goodnight.” He says, and out the door he goes.

“So…what’s your question?”

“I didn’t actually have one.” Harry smirks at her and she blushes.

“Oh.”

“You seemed uncomfortable with him here.”

“I don’t exactly enjoy his company anymore.” She sits slightly on his desk.

“I know, shit like that is just awkward. Francie and I still have some mutual friends, and we’ve had to be at a few of the same parties since the breakup.”

“Can I ask…I mean, you said you were together for four years and engaged…what happened?”

“Why don’t we have this conversation over drinks?” He stands up, grabbing his keys and jacket.

“Harry…it’s a school night.”

“And? It’s only seven. Not like we’re gonna be out all night are we?”

“I have two kids at home.”

“You have two teenagers at home. Come on, just one drink and I’ll tell you everything.”

“And then what?”

“Whatever you want.” He winks and leads you out the door.

Y/N texted the kids to let them know she was just grabbing a quick bite, and that she was very proud of their hard work. She followed Harry to a pub, and they grab a booth inside. They each order a drink and munch on some popcorn.

“Alright.” He sighs. “So I was with Francie for four years, and we were engaged for all of five months. It was working out great, we were living together, had a couple of pets, you name it. She works for this tech company, right? So, she got promoted, which was great, but it would have involved her to start traveling a lot, and eventually moving to New York. I didn’t want to move, and she didn’t want to do long distance.”

“Why didn’t you want to move? You could have found another school to work at…”

“It was the principal of the thing! She didn’t even ask, she just expected it, like her job was more important than mine. We started arguing more and more, and when I asked her why we couldn’t just try long distance she said that would make things difficult to start a family, and I said we already had a family, and that opened up a can of worms. She wanted kids and I didn’t. After that we ended it. She took our dog and cat, and left.”

“She took the pets?!”

“Yup! Left me the ring though.” He scoffs.

“Wait…so you don’t want kids?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, I love babies especially. But…I just don’t see myself being a dad.” He shrugs. “It’s a lot of responsibility, a lot of money too. I don’t know if I could take care of someone else. And maybe…when she said it…I had this thought of if I did want kids I wasn’t sure if wanted her to be the mother of them.”

“It took you that long to have that kind of conversation?”

“What about you? Did you and your ex have a proper discussion about it?”

“No, he knocked me up, proposed later that year, and we got married in a courthouse while I was seven months pregnant.” She finishes her drink. “Just like a fairytale. Then when he promised we could have a real wedding, I got pregnant with Ben, and all that money went to him. S’alright, though, it would have been a waste of money.”

“Can I ask why you got divorced?”

“Well, the age difference was one thing. He’s seven years older than me, which may not seem like much, but it was. I felt like I couldn’t talk to him sometimes. Then he decided to cheat on me with some other young thing, so we went from separated to divorced real quick.”

“I’m so sorry.” He frowns slightly.

“Don’t be, it was a while ago. I think things worked out for the best. We’re all doing better now.”

“I think it’s admirable that you’ve turned your life around the way you have.”

“Thanks.” She smiles and he finishes off his drink. Once they pay their tab they head out. “I think it’s too cold to do what we did last time.”

“And I couldn’t persuade you to come back to my place for a bit?”

She looks down at her watch and sees it’s already 8:30. She sighs, biting her bottom lip.

“I…I want to, and if I didn’t have two kids at home waiting for me I would. Maybe…maybe you should find someone else to be your little fuck buddy. I’m not easy to be with.”

“Maybe that’s what I like about you.” He says, leaning forward so his lips brush yours, kissing you quickly before backing away. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

She groans once she’s in the car. When she gets home both Riley and Ben are in their rooms unwinding. She says hello and goes to her own room to get ready for bed. Y/N wonders what she would have done with Harry at his place. How he would have touched her and kissed her all over. She sighs and gets into bed, aggravated as fuck.

It was Thanksgiving weekend when Y/N took her next shot with Harry. The kids spent Thanksgiving day with her, and they had the rest of the weekend to be with Joseph. When Saturday night rolled around she was bored and lonely, so she called him.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hi, Y/N. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

“I did…although, I have way too many leftovers.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah! Um, you wouldn’t happen to be hungry, would you?”

“Starved.”

“Great, well, if you’d like to come over you can.”

“I can be there within the house. Just text me your address.”

He had assumed Riley and Ben weren’t home. He needed to take a quick shower before coming to see her, and she needed to do the same. She wanted to be as fresh as possible for him. When she heard the doorbell, she raced down the stairs to open it.

“So, I can heat up whatever-mph!” He had gripped her cheeks and pulled her into him, kissing her passionately.

“I didn’t actually come here to eat.” He breathes. “Well, I did…but not food.” He smirks and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and kisses on his neck as he carries her upstairs. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Last door on the right.” She mumbles into his hot skin.

He gets her in the bedroom, and sets her down. He starts taking his clothes off, and she does the same. He knees onto the bed to hover over her, and he kisses her, sucking on her bottom lip.

“Glad you finally called me for this.” He says as he licks around her nipple.

“You could have called me.”

“Didn’t want to look any more desperate.”

He nips at her stomach as he works his way down, giving her little to no warning before he licks into her. She gasps, gripping onto his hair. She bites her bottom lip as she feels his warm tongue lapping away at her. He sucks on her clit and slips two fingers inside her.

“When was the last time someone made you feel this good, hm? When was the last time someone made you this wet?”

“Wh-whenever the first time we hooked up was.” She whimpers.

“And before that?” He kitten licks at her clit now.

“God, I have no idea!” She moans out as his fingers pet inside her against her g-spot. He struggles to get a third finger in, so he doesn’t bother.

“Tighter than a fucking finger trap you know that?”

“I told you, I don’t make time to-oh!”

He started sucking on her clit again, and pumping his fingers quickly. She was squirming underneath him, panting and moaning loudly. She cries out as she comes, and he pumps his fingers slowly as her hips move along with his motions.

“Condoms?” He asks when he pops up.

“You don’t me to, um…?”

“Another time, I don’t think I’d last very long if you sucked on me.” He had been rutting himself against the mattress. She nods and reaches into her bedside drawer for a condom she toss it to him and watches as he rolls it on. “Roll over.”

She does as he says, and gets on her elbows and knees for him. He grips her hips, and lines himself up with her, pushing inside. It’s a tight squeeze, but he gets in no problem. They both moan out from the feeling. He reaches around to rub her clit, and she collapses onto the bed.

“God, just do what you want with me, Harry.” She grunts, and he moans from behind her.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you have no idea. Come for me, Y/N, come on.”

She cries out into her pillow, and he spills into the condom. Somehow after they both got cleaned up they ended up back in bed together. Harry through his arm around Y/N and pulled her to his chest.

“What are you doing?” She giggles.

“Cuddling you.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel like it.”

She laughs, but doesn’t fight him on it. Then…they fell asleep. It was a total accident, Harry never intended to spend the night. He just wanted to cuddle for a bit before heading out. He was more tired than he thought, and so was she. She nudges him awake.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says, knuckling at his eyes.

“It’s okay. Would you like to take a shower with me?”

“I would.” He smiles and gets up with her.

It was the dirtiest shower she had ever taken. He had gotten on his knees to eat her out, and then he lifted her up, fucking her into the bathroom tile wall. She left many scratch marks on his back, and then he came on her stomach. They got cleaned up for real after that, and headed downstairs for some coffee. Just as she was about to offer him some breakfast, she heard the front door open.

“Oh my god!” She whisper screams. “They’re not supposed to be back until later!”

“Be cool, Y/N.” Harry says.

“But-“

“Mum, we’re…Mr. Styles?” Riley says as she comes in with Ben. “What…what’s going on?”

“I should ask you the same. Why’s your father bring you back so soon?”

“We asked if he could.” Ben says. “Can only handle so much of his girlfriend.”

“So…Mr. Styles, um, no offense, but what are you doing here?”

“Well, your mum just so happens to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She had all these leftovers and asked me if I’d like any, and I said yes. I may be a Brit, but I love Thanksgiving dishes. So I came right over. Just got here a couple minutes before you did.”

“Yeah, I was just about to pull the food out. Why don’t you two go put your things away?”

Riley furrows her brows, but shrugs it off, and goes with Ben upstairs.

“You’re quick on your feet.”

“Wasn’t a total lie.” Harry says, finishing his coffee. “I better get going.” She walks him to the front door, and he gives her a sneaky kiss along with a bum squeeze. “See you soon, I hope.”

“Definitely.” She smiles. “Bye.” She opens the door for him and out he goes. She sighs happily, and goes into the kitchen to make a little breakfast.

Riley was a little suspicious after that morning. She spent most mornings in homeroom analyzing Harry’s features. He was his usual chipper self, but there was certainly an extra pep in his step. Then in biology it was the same thing.

“Riley?” Austin was standing in front of her desk, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, hey.” She smiles. “What’s up?”

“Are you free this Friday?”

“I…I think so.”

“Would you wanna go to the movies?” He runs a hand through his hair and she swallows.

“This is gonna sound really lame, but I need to ask my mom first.”

He chuckles slightly at that.

“No worries, let me know if she says yes.”

“I will.” Austin goes to his seat, and Riley looks at Chris who was giving her a thumbs up.

“Alright, if we could all settle down?” Harry says. “Today we’re going over fungi cells so I need all of your attention on me.”

Harry liked attention in general, probably one of the reasons he wanted to be a teacher in the first place. He just happened to also enjoy biology and he was good at explaining it to the youths. During class Riley felt her phone buzz, and saw she had a text from Ben.

Ben: reminder that I have a doctor’s appointment, so you have to wait after school for Mum to come get you

Riley: okay thanks, I’ll just go to the library to wait for her

“Riley!” She snaps her eyes up at the harsh tone from her teacher. “Is that your phone?”

“Y-yes…I’m sorry, Mr. Styles, my brother-“

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head. “You know the policy.” He gestures for her to give it to him.

“But he was just-“

“Is it an emergency?”

“No.”

“Alright then, give it here.” Everyone was looking at her, and it made her face flush. She gets up and walks towards him to hand over her phone. He takes it puts it in his desk drawer. “You can have it back after class.”

She nods, and goes back to her seat. After class she walks out, completely forgetting she had her phone taken away. She gets settled in the library, and gets some homework done. She was there for over an hour until Y/N showed up in a huff.

“Riley Davidson, I’ve been calling you for fifteen minutes!”

“Mum, be quiet!”

“If your brother hadn’t told me you were in the library I never would have found you. Where the hell is your phone?”

“It’s…oh shit.” She says as she packs up.

“What?”

“I forgot that Mr. Styles took it from me.”

“He what?!”

“Ben texted me while I was in class, and I texted back. He caught me, and took it away from me. It’s the policy.”

“I don’t give a fuck, that’s your property. Come on, hopefully he’s still here.”

He was. When they walk in, he was writing something on the whiteboard, furrowing his eyebrows. Looked like it was a chemistry equation. Y/N clears her throat to get his attention.

“Oh, hello ladies.”

“Where do you get off taking my daughter’s phone?”

“Oh! I completely forgot about that. You left right after class, Riley.” Harry goes into his desk and grabs the phone. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” She says as she swipes through to check any notifications she may have missed.

“It’s the policy, Y/N.”

“What if I got in a car accident and someone needed to reach her? Then what?”

“Did that happen?” He crosses his arms.

“No, but it could have.”

“But it didn’t. There’s no texting in class, no phone use of any kind, actually.”

“Mum, it’s fine, we can-“

“Excuse me, but that’s her property. If I need to get in touch with her, or if her brother does, then she should be able to send a quick text. It’s not like she was scrolling through Instagram.”

“But she could have been.”

“But she wasn’t!”

“Maybe you should hover over a little less, hm? Kids rely on their phones so much because their parents are constantly trying to see what they’re up to.”

Y/N takes her keys out from her purse, and hands them to Riley.

“I’m parked out front, go start the car for me. I’ll be just be another minute.” Riley nods and leaves quickly, knowing how bad it can be to be scolded by her mother. She certainly didn’t want to watch her favorite teacher get bitched out. “You don’t have kids, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“

“I have dozens of kids, actually. Ones that come to see me to talk to me about their problems, I’m also always studying trends of the today’s students, so don’t stand there and-“

“Do not interrupt me when I’m speaking.” She says firmly, and he closes his mouth. “You may speak when I’m finished, Mr. Styles. I’m a single mom doing my best for my kids. I will not be lectured in front of my daughter about being a helicopter parents because I’m not. However, I’m doing the job of two while my ex gets to be a weekend dad, who my kids don’t even want to see. It’s my fault Ben texted her at the time he did, alright? I asked him to remind her that I wouldn’t be picking her up until later because I had to take him to a doctor’s appointment.”

“May I?” She gestures that he can speak. “She didn’t need to text him back right then. It’s the school policy to take a phone away if we see it out, I was just doing my job.”

“Well, you should have remembered you took it so you could have given it back to her! I was sitting in the car for nearly twenty minutes waiting for her, I was starting to get worried.” Y/N pouts, and even though this was a very serious matter, Harry couldn’t help notice the blood starting to flow right to his prick.

“I’m very sorry about that.” He puts his hand on her shoulder, and she glances at it before looking at him. “I take ownership for that mistake. I feel terrible that I even caused an ounce of worry. If there’s anything I can do to make it better, please let me know.” His tone was condescending and seductive all at the same time.

She places her hand on his and removes it from her shoulder.

“Have a nice evening.” She says.

“Same to you.” He smirks.

Y/N makes her way to her car, and sighs heavily once she’s in there with Riley.

“Please don’t tell me you just yelled at him. He’s my favorite teacher, Mum.”

“No, we had a very adult conversation, and he apologized for not giving you back your phone when he should have after class.”

“I guess I could’ve waited to text Ben back. I’m sorry I caused all this.”

“It’s not your fault, honey, it’s fine.” She smiles at her daughter and they make their way home.

“I…I was asked to the movies this Friday, can I go?”

“With who?”

“Austin.”

“I’d like him to come to the house first so I can meet him properly. You’ve been hanging out in groups with him. Would this be one on one?”

“I think so. I can ask him if he minds coming inside first before we go.”

“That would be great.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you…are you and Mr. Styles, like, seeing each other?”

“What would ever give you that idea?!”

“I just think it’s weird that he was at our house.”

“We’ve become friends, you know I hang out with him and Mr. Horan sometimes.”

“Yeah, but Mr. Horan wasn’t there. It was just you and Mr. Styles, and you both had wet hair.”

“I had showered before he swung by, he must have done the same.” Y/N shrugs. “We’re just friends, honey, nothing more.”

“Okay.”

Y/N could tell Riley didn’t quite believe her, but she knew her daughter wouldn’t press her on it more for now. Not if she wanted to go to the movies with Austin.

“It’s nice to meet you, uh-“

“You can just call me Miss Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you too, Austin.” Y/N smiles. They were all standing in the front hall. “So…it’s just you two going to the movies?”

“That’s the plan.” He says with an innocent smile.

“Have her home by 10:30, please.”

“Can do.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Have fun.” She sighs and turns around to Ben. “What about you? No plans?”

“Not tonight. I was just gonna play video games.”

“Well, if you’d like to have a friend over-“ Her cell phone goes off and she furrows her brows. “One second, sweetie.” She goes into the kitchen for some more privacy. “Harry?”

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?”

“Hanging out with my son…why?”

“Oh, they’re not with their dad this weekend?”

“No, they were with him last weekend.” She sighs.

“Damn.”

“Why?”

“Well, Niall and a few other people were gonna go to this place where you can throw axes, and we thought you’d like to come.”

“That sounds like…fun? Um, but I can’t just leave Ben here alone. I’d feel terrible since Riley’s out.”

“Hey, Mum?”

“Honey, I’m on the phone.”

“I know, sorry, Kyle just texted me and asked me if I wanted to sleep over. I know it’s last minute, but-“

“You can go! You can definitely go, I’ll even drop you off.”

“You’re the best! I’m gonna go pack up my stuff.” Ben races out of the kitchen.

“Guess that just solved itself.” Harry says.

“Guess so.”

“Let me come pick you up. Text me when you get back from dropping him off, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Y/N gets herself ready, and then drives Ben to Kyle’s house for his sleepover.

“Why do you look so nice?” He asks on the way there.

“Well, I made plans with my own friends since you and Riley are out. Is that okay?” She chuckles.

“S’fine.” He shrugs. “Feel like you’ve been going out a lot lately. Are you, like, dating?”

“No, baby, I’m not dating. But I am making good friends, which has been nice. I didn’t have many friends back in our old town. Too many judgey moms.” She pulls up to Kyle’s house. “Have a great time, call me if you need me.”

“I will, thanks!”

She watches Ben go inside, and then she makes her way back home to wait for Harry. She liked his car a lot, and it would be nice to actually go for a drive in it, instead of just riding him in it. Y/N was shocked when she heard the doorbell.

“You didn’t have to come to the door.” She says as she steps outside.

“Sure I did. I may be just trying to fuck, but I’m a gentleman at the end of the day.” He smirks as he opens the car door for her. She rolls her eyes at him, and climbs in.

“This really is a nice car.” She says as she looks around.

“Saved up a long time for it.” He places his hand on her thigh as he backs out of the driveway, and he keeps it there.

“So, an axe throwing place?”

“It’s all the rage right now. You can drink and throw axes, it’s pretty cool. I’ve been once before it’s a hoot.” He chuckles and squeezes her thigh slightly. “I’m glad you were able to get out for a bit.”

“Me too.”

She lets him keep his hand on her leg for the entire ride as they chat over the music. He parks the car, and gets out, jogging around to the other side to open the door for her. She smiles at him, and they both head inside. He even gets them their drinks from the bar. It was starting to feel like a date, especially when she only saw Niall with one other person, some woman she had yet to meet.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Anna.” Niall says.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Y/N says to her. Harry comes over and hands her a drink. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. We all set?” He asks Niall.

“Yeah, we all just need to sign the release forms.”

They all sign and are brought over to the axe throwing area. They’re told how to do it, and they get going. Harry and Niall go first, and of course their axes stick. Y/N takes a deep breath, and throws her, but it doesn’t stick.

“That’s alright, give it another go.” Harry encourages her.

“I…I don’t think I threw it quite right.” She says to him.

“Would you like some help?” She nods yes at him and he steps closer to her, putting his hand on her back. “You need to release from this point, okay? Give it all you got.” He steps back and lets her throw it. It sticks and she squeals, turning to hug him. “I knew you could do it!”

Anna hits her target as well. The four of them were having a great time. Once their time is up, they all grab table for food. Y/N checks her phone, it was just about nine. No texts from the kids. She hoped Riley was having a nice time on her date, and that Austin was being respectful during their movie.

“Miss?” The waitress says to her.

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. Um…” She looks at the menu and then to Harry. Everyone else had clearly ordered.

“She’ll have the same as me, thanks, love.” Harry hands the waitress the menus and then looks at Y/N. “You like turkey burgers, right?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. My daughter’s on her first date, and I was just checking my phone to see if she had text me or anything.”

“You have a daughter that’s old enough to date?!” Anna says, shocked. “What’s your secret, girl? You look fantastic!” She laughs, and so does everyone else.

“I was a young mum, nothing more than that.” Y/N chuckles. “She’s only fourteen, a freshman out with a sophomore boy from her biology class. It’s cute, really, he’s on the football team and she’s been to a few of his games. They’ve been hanging out in groups, but tonight is the first one on one.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Listen to me, it sounds like I’m recapping an episode of The Bachelor.”

“Do you have any other kids, or just the one?” Anna asks.

“I have a son, Ben, he’s thirteen. Niall’s his teacher actually.”

“Yup, great kid. Harry has Y/N’s daughter in class too.” Niall tells her.

“Is that how you two met?” Anna asks, and you smirk.

“No, actually, the three of us met because I parked too close to Harry’s precious car in the staff lot. I work in our development office.” She sips her drink smirking at Harry who had slumped in the booth. “He yelled at me, it was quite the meet cute.”

“Yikes, I’ve never seen Harry yell before.” Anna says. “You’re usually so calm.”

“I’ve had that car for two years, not a scratch on it, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Harry says. “It’s all water under the bridge now.” He puts his arm around Y/N, smiling down at her.

There’s more talking during the meal. Y/N really liked the turkey burger Harry had ordered for her. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. It was about ten, and Y/N wanted to get home before Riley like a responsible adult. She tells Harry this, and he nods.

“It was really nice meeting you, Anna.” Y/N tells her again.

“Same to you, have a nice night.” They all part ways in the parking lot. “Oh, I like her so much better than Francie already.” She tells Niall.

“Me too.” Niall sighs. “But you know they’re not really dating.”

“I know, I know, but this was a very nice glimpse for them to see what a date could be like. They were so cute with each other.”

“I agree, I just think Harry’s still on the rebound. I also don’t think he’s mature enough to be dating a woman with two teenagers. Little kids maybe, but teenagers? That’s a lot to take on. Besides, what if he wants kids? Y/N’s in her early thirties, she probably wouldn’t want more.”

“Isn’t that what Harry and Francie broke up over? She wanted kids and he didn’t.” Anna shrugs. “Let them figure it out.”

Y/N and Harry were parked in her driveway making out. The damn console was in the way, but he was still able to get his tongue into her mouth. Her hands were in his hair, tugging him closer to her even though she knew she needed to get out of the car.

“Harry.” She breathes as he starts kissing on her neck. “I…I need to go inside. I can’t be out here like this when Riley gets home.” She gasps when she feels his teeth nip at her skin, and then he pulls away, almost glaring at her.

“Man, nothing to kill a hard on more than a mention of a student’s name.” He huffs.

“I told you…this might be easier for you if you wanted to fuck someone without kids.”

“Well, I’m kinda hooked on you now, so I can’t do that.” His thumb brushes her bottom lip as he cups her cheek. He leans in to kiss her again. “Do you think we could get together tomorrow since it seems like we can’t fool around tonight?”

“Sure, I have some errands I need to run anyways, so I can add you to the list.” She winks. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, sounds good.” He chuckles. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“So did I, goodnight.” She smiles and hops out of the car. She quickly gets herself inside.

Harry backs out of the driveway just as Austin pulls up with Riley.

“Whoa, who do you know with a range rover?” Austin asks.

“That’s…Mr. Styles’ car.” She swallows as she watches him drive away. “He’s friends with my mom. She texted me saying she was seeing some friends tonight, I guess he drove her.”

“Cool.” Austin says. “I’ll walk you to your door.” He does so, and they linger there for a moment. They hug each other, and he gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” She smiles.

“Great, well, have a good night.”

“You too. Thanks again.” Her heart soars as she goes inside. She finds Y/N sitting on the couch watching TV.

“How was the movie?”

“Really funny.” Riley plops down next to her. “Where’s Ben?”

“Sleeping at Kyle’s.”

“Oh, nice. So…where did you go tonight?”

“To this axe throwing place. It was fun, look.” She takes her phone and shows Riley a video of her throwing an axe and it sticking to the wooden target.

“Cool! You went there with Mr. Styles?”

“Mhm, and Mr. Horan and his girlfriend Anna.”

“Oh my god, Mum.” Riley gasps. “You went on a double date!”

“I did not.” Y/N scoffs.

“Did Mr. Styles pay for anything?”

“Well…yeah, he did, but he said it was just easier.” Riley gives her a look. “What?”

“Mum, he definitely was making a move!”

“And what do you know about moves, hm?”

“Apparently more than you. You two should go out one on one and see how it goes.”

“I’ve done that with him before.” Y/N shrugs. “We’re just friends, Riley.”

“He drove you tonight, right? I saw him pulling out of the driveway when I got home.”

“He offered to drive, yeah, and I accepted. He’s got a really nice car, thought it would be fun to go for a ride in it.” Y/N blushes slightly, annoyed at her own innuendo. “I’m not dating your teacher, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t hate it.” Riley shrugs. “You deserve to have someone, Mum. Dad’s out there with miss thing living what he perceives as his best life, you should do the same.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship right now.” Y/N sighs. “I don’t have time for it. If Ben hadn’t gone to Kyle’s I wouldn’t have been able to go out tonight.”

“He can stay at home by himself.”

“But I would have felt bad about it. I like being home when you guys are home.”

“We’re not babies, that’s all I’m saying.” She twiddles her thumbs. “Plus, he’s super cute, so-“

“Riley!” Y/N chuckles and throws a pillow at her. “Don’t talk about your teacher like that.”

“He is! I don’t have a crush on him, but anyone with eyes can see how cute he is, Mum.”

“I’ll agree with that, he’s very cute.” She yawns. “Well, now that you’re home I’m gonna go up to bed. Was Austin respectful and all that tonight?”

“Very.” Riley smiles. “He asked me if I wanted to do it again sometime. I’m excited about him.”

“It’s a nice feeling, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N hoped the feeling would never fade for her daughter because she knew all too well how it felt when it does.

The next day, after Ben got dropped off, Y/N told the kids she was going out to run some errands, and asked them to get some chores done while she was gone. She genuinely needed to get some things while she was out, so she did that before going over to Harry’s. It felt odd to be going over to his place in the middle of the day for a dick appointment, as the kids would say, but this was happening. She pulls up to a nice duplex, and she recognizes Niall’s car in the other driveway. She texts Harry that she’s down front, and she sees the front door open on one side. She gets out of her car and greets him.

“Find it alright?” He says to her as he lets her in.

“Mhm, this is a cool place.”

“Thanks, Niall and I bought it together, like, five or so years ago. We fixed up one side and then the other.”

“So he gets one side and you the other?”

“Yup, worked out well. I’ve redecorated recently, for, um, obvious reasons.”

“Right, trust me I know how hard it can be living in the same place where good and bad memories were made.”

“Is that why you came out here?”

“One of the reasons she sighs as she kicks her shoes off. “I needed a fresh start.”

He hums his response as he cups her jaw in his large hands, bringing his lips to hers.

“How long do you have?” He says against her lips.

“An hour at most. I have to go to the grocery store after this.”

“Oh.” He smirks. “You won’t be going to the store after this.”

“Wh-why not?” She swallows.

“Because you’re not gonna be able to walk when I’m done with you.” He bends down and lifts her up over his shoulder and she squeals.

“Harry!” She giggles as he brings upstairs to his room. Fuck, he was strong. “What will I tell my kids when I’m walking funny?”

“Tell them good old Mr. Styles cracked your spine in half, I’m sure that’ll go over well.” He drops her on his bed, and gets his shirt off. She looks up wide eyed at him. “Oh, love, I’m not actually gonna do that.”

“I know, I’ve just never seen your tattoos in the daylight like this. I mean when we showered I sort of did, but…they’re so pretty.”

His features soften and he picks her up again, getting himself on the bed and laying her down. He sucks on her bottom lip as she wraps her arms and legs around him. His hands work to undo her jeans, and he tugs them down past her bum. She kicks them off the rest of the way, and he pets her over her underwear. She moans into his mouth, and his dips his fingers inside, sliding along her slit. She could feel him growing hard against her hip.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you blow me for a bit?”

“Of course! Lay down.”

He gives her a relieved smile and lays back on the bed. She gets between his legs and does his pants. She gets them off and tugs his boxers down. She kisses his tip first, then gives his shaft kisses before licking him up and down. She looks up at him and sees he’s already watching her. She smirks and wraps her lips around his tip, sinking down on him as much as she could.

“Yeah, just like that.” He groans. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

She moans against him and bobs her head up and down. This wasn’t her favorite thing to do in the world, but she didn’t mind do it for it for Harry since he was so attentive with her. She gets him to the brink of coming, and then he pulls her off of him. He gets her naked, and opens her legs up, diving right in. The flat of his tongue sliding up her center to her clit. He sucks both of her lips, one at a time before focusing on her clit again. Two of his fingers slip inside her, and her eyes roll back. He has her crying out moments later, and before she knows it he’s getting a condom on.

“Can I go on top?” She asks.

“Sure.” He shrugs and lays down, his cock stiff and ready for her.

She swings her leg over him, and rubs his tip over her clit before sinking down on his. His hands grip her hips as she moves around in a circle to get comfortable. She moves herself on and off his cock, enjoying the stretch he’s giving her. When she gets a little tired she comes down to him chest to chest, and kisses him. His hands slide to her ass, and he moves her on him. He thrusts in and out of her, and she moans into his neck.

“Like the way I feel like this?” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck.” She mumbles. Her clit was rubbing against him perfectly, and she was trying to concentrate on that. “Don’t stop what you’re doing.” She tugs at his hair and he nearly growls.

He thrusts into her faster and faster, it has her panting and moaning. His tip was hitting her g-spot, so the whole thing was really overwhelming. She moans out his name loudly as she comes, and he fucks her through it. He lifts her off of him, and sets her down on her stomach. He gets behind her and pushes back inside. She gasps, but it feels good. He fucks her from behind until he comes, and collapses on top of her. He holds her for a moment before pulling out and getting rid of the condom. She uses the bathroom, and gets dressed. He throws on a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt.

“Thanks for adding me to your list of errands.” He says to her as they stand in his front hall. She giggles into his chest as he hugs her and kisses the top of her head.

“My legs are working just fine, by the way. But I’m too tired to go grocery shopping now.”

“Well, you only gave me a bloody hour, love, and you made me come really fast.” He pouts. “Can’t seem to last that long with you.”

“Maybe you should jerk off before I come over next time so you can handle it.” She grins and he rolls his eyes.

“You came twice didn’t you?” She nods yes. “Alright then, quit your complaining. Go on, get outta my house.” He pats her bum and kisses her one more time. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“You too.” Y/N drove home with a smile on her face the whole way.

Things were like this most weekends, especially when the kids were at Joseph’s. Harry would come over on Friday night instead of Saturday in case he fell asleep. Plus if he stayed the night that meant they could have sex most of the day Saturday, which was really nice. Y/N was having a lot of fun with Harry. Sometimes they’d meet up with Anna and Niall to go bowling, or catch a movie. In a way it felt like dating, but there was absolutely zero pressure. It was the exact companion ship she had hoped for.

When the holidays rolled around, she got the kids for Christmas, and Joseph got them for New Year’s, which meant Y/N could go to the party Harry was having. Apparently it was an annual thing. There were a lot of people from school there so she felt right at home. Y/N hadn’t had a New Year’s kiss in quite some time, so it wasn’t even on her mind until all of the couples migrated towards each other as it got closer to midnight.

Harry was wandering through his home trying to find her. She was in the kitchen refilling her drink. He lets out a sigh of relief. He could hear people starting the countdown.

“Christ, there you are!” He says to her, pulling her into him.

“You were looking for me?”

“Course I was, who else am I gonna kiss, hm?” They hear everyone yell ‘one’ and he plants one on her. She thought it would be a simple peck since there were people around, but no, Harry full on kissed her. “Happy New Year.” He breathes and then kisses her forehead.

“Happy New Year.” She says faintly as he walks away from her to continue being a good host. She was one of the last people there, feeling drained at nearly two in the morning. She was getting her coat, about ready to say goodbye when he looked at her funny. “What?”

“Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

“Home.”

“Nope, sorry, m’afraid you’re staying with me tonight. Get that coat off, now.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Is that so?”

“it is.” He nods, and she smirks at him stepping closer to him.

“Make me.” She grins and his eyebrows raise.

“Right.”

Before she knows it she’s being picked up and carried to his room. They both giggle as he gets her in his room. He gets her jacket and boots off, and he tosses her one of his bed shirts.

“What’s this for?” She asks as she holds the shirt up.

“To sleep? Can’t fuck you right now, I’m knackered.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “Alright, well, thank you. Um…you wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush and a washcloth then would you?”

“Sure, I’ll pull that out of the linen closet for you, one second.” He leaves the bedroom and comes back shortly and gives her what she asked for.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and starts taking his clothes. “Feel free to use the bathroom first.”

She nods and does so. She liked the way his shirt fit, how it hugged her thighs and just barely covered her bum. She washes up and shyly pads back into the bedroom. He smiles when he sees her, and watches as she crawls onto the bed.

“Well, don’t you look cute.” He pinches her thigh as she settled.

“Oh! Don’t do that.” She swats his hand away and he chuckles, getting up from the bed.

“Back in a tick.”

He shuts the lights off once he’s done in the bathroom, and gets into bed with her. She felt awkward until he yanked her onto his chest.

“You can be pretty forceful sometimes, you know that?”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not really, it’s not like I don’t feel safe.”

“You feel safe with me?” He asks softly.

“I do.” She feels him hold her a little closer.

“I just want what I want when I want it I guess.”

“So I’ve noticed. I like a man that knows what he wants, though, so it’s not like it’s a turn off.

“Aw, so you feel safe with me and you like me. A Happy New Year indeed.” She sucks her teeth at that and it makes him laugh. “What’s wrong, can’t take a bit of teasing?”

“I can, you’re just annoying.” She nudges him and he kisses the top of her head.

“You’re fun, Y/N.” He chuckles.

“Let’s get some sleep so you can fuck me in the morning, yeah?”

“I like the way you think.” He sighs and lets his eyes droop closed.

Y/N and Harry spent most of New Year’s day in his best, and neither of them would have had it any other way.

“Y/N?” One of her student workers comes into her office. “Mr. Horan from the math department is here to see you.”

“He is?” She raises an eyebrow. “Um, alright, he can come in.” The girl nods and lets Niall in. He closes the door behind him. “Is everything alright with Ben?”

“Yeah, this isn’t work related.”

“Oh…alright, would you like to have a seat?”

“No, it won’t take long…um…did you know Harry’s birthday is on the first of February?”

“I did not know that, no.”

“Right, well, I’m throwing him a party at this pub he really likes to go to. He’s turning thirty, you know? Wanted it to be a little more special for him.” She nods and he continues. “He’s shy about his birthday, and he’d never come right out and say it, but I know it would be mean the world to him if you came.”

“Well, of course I’ll go. It’s not like I haven’t been to a party with him before.”

“Yes, but instead of casually coming over to his New Year’s party…you’d sort of be showing up as his lady, you know?”

“What are you getting at here?”

“Come on, Y/N.” Niall scoffs. “He’s crazy about you, can’t you see that?”

“Niall…” She says in a hushed tone. “You know very well that he and I are nothing more than-“

“Fuck buddies, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “This has been going on for months, you seriously don’t want more with the guy?”

“No.” She swallows. “I’m getting exactly what I need from him. He doesn’t want more either, what we’re doing works for both of us. Has…has he said something to you?”

“Not in so many words, but he talks about you enough. I think it’s silly to not go for it.”

“Look, if I didn’t have two kids maybe things could be different between him and I, but it’s not that simple. I don’t want more…at least not right now.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “I’ll text you the details for the party, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and keep it a secret. He thinks we’re going on a bar crawl.”

She nods and out the door he goes. She sighs heavily and shakes her head. Now there would be all this pressure for his birthday. Did she need to get him a gift? And what kind of gift should it be?

“Mum, you look so good.” Riley says sitting on Y/N’s bed when she comes out in a red dress.

“Thank you, honey.”

“And this is for a friend’s birthday party?”

“Yes.”

“Whose birthday?” Riley grins.

“Harry’s.” Y/N sighs.

“Did you get him anything good?”

“I…I got him, like, well, you know how he likes to wear all those rings? So I saw this ring at the store that I thought he might like.”

“You got him a ring?”

“Is it weird? It’s weird right? I just…I saw it and I thought of him, and I-“

“I bet he’ll love it, Mum.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Listen…you’ll be alright with Ben tonight? I…I could either be home really late, or I might not come back until the morning depending on how much I have to drink.”

“He’s setting up some movies and popcorn for us as we speak. We can handle it.”

“Good, okay, thank you.”

“Where would stay if you don’t come home?”

“Mr. Horan has offered me his guest room if need be.” It was a blatant lie but she couldn’t very well tell her fourteen-year-old that she was most likely going to have birthday sex with her teacher.

“Okay.” Riley shrugs and goes downstairs with Y/N. The doorbell rings. “I’ve got it.” She says as Y/N gets her coat on. “Hi, Mr. Styles.”

“Hello, Riley, is your mum ready to go?”

“Mhm, she’s just getting her coat on. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and then uses all his willpower to not let his jaw drop when he sees Y/N. He couldn’t even see her dress, but he could tell she’d be a knockout tonight. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She smiles and turns to Riley and Ben. “Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. I can be home in a flash. I’ll text you later to let you know what my, um, plans are.” She blushes and pushes Harry outside as the kids wave them off.

“She’s not subtle.” Ben says as he plops onto the couch.

“I know, I wish they’d just admit they’re in love and get on with it.” Riley says and starts the movie.

Harry opens the backseat of Niall’s car for her, and then he jogs around to the other side. Niall was driving, and Anna was in the passenger seat. Everyone greets one another and off they go. Harry keeps his hand on Y/N’s knee the whole way, and she puts her hand over his. They smile at each other, but nothing is said. Needless to say he was surprised by there being a party at the pub for him, but he was delighted.

Niall had done really well. Lots of drinks and appetizers going around, good music, and people mingling. There was even a cheesy slideshow of every single one of Harry’s school pictures throughout the years, and Y/N had to fight tears from laughing so hard at some of them. Harry couldn’t have asked for a better birthday, especially with Y/N around. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her all night, and eventually his arm didn’t leave from its place around her waist. No one really paid it any attention. Most people knew there was something going on between the two of them, but it was none of their concern. The single men in the room at the least knew not to hit on her. No one really wanted to get on Harry’s shit list.

There was a table for gifts, but Y/N kept hers in her purse, not wanting it to get lost. She also wanted to give it to him in private in case things got awkward. She had overthought the ring over and over. It was this nice topaz band that she thought he’d like. He said he was always looking for a pop of color in his wardrobe.

“Hey.” He says to her, pulling her into him. “Are you gonna come home with me?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Are you having a good time?”

“A great time. Couldn’t have asked to turn thirty with better people.” He tucks some hair behind her ear and she shivers. “Can’t to get you back to my place, though.” He leans in to speak in her ear. “M’gonna mess up all this pretty makeup you’re wearing.” He kisses her cheek and lets her go. She was suddenly counting down the moments until it was time to leave.

When it came time, she helped grab all of the gifts off the table and bring them to Niall’s car. She had texted Riley that she wouldn’t be coming home which she felt slightly guilty about. She didn’t like giving up her weekends with the kids like this. Niall and Anna help get everything inside, and then leave Harry and Y/N alone, drinking water in the kitchen. He comes over to her, putting his hands on her hips, and pulling her forward.

“Have I told you how fucking sexy you look tonight? I’ve had to hold my hand under my jaw all night just to keep it from dropping.”

“Idiot.” She chuckles. “Oh! Wait, I got you something.” She snatches her purse from the counter.

“So it’s not lingerie? Sort of thought you were my gift.” He smirks and she rolls her eyes.

“That wouldn’t be very original, and I don’t find lingerie to be particularly comfortable, sorry, Sport.” She fishes the ring box out of her purse. “Here we are. If it’s weird feel free to just kick me out…I saw it thought you’d like it, nothing more to it than that.”

He takes the box from her, furrowing his brows. His eyes widen as he opens it up. He looks between her and the topaz band several times.

“Are you serious?” He says.

“Y-yeah…do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it! I just can’t decide what finger to put it on.”

“I guessed on the size. You have such fat fingers, so I went with a larger one.”

“Think that’s the first time I’ve heard you complain about my fingers. Better be the last.” He slips the ring onto his middle finger and holds it out. “It’s perfect, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Like I said, I saw it and thought you’d like it.”

He hugs her and she hugs him back. He kisses her cheek and works his way to her lips. He sucks on her bottom lip, and she tugs at his shirt. His hands slide down to her ass and he squeezes.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” He says against her lips, and lifts her up onto the counter.

“Mm-mm, just bring me upstairs, I don’t wanna have sex on the counter again.”

“But it’s my birthday.” He pouts.

“Yeah, and last time we did this my back hurt for, like, three days, so bring me upstairs.”

He sucks his teeth and lifts her back up, carrying her bridal style out to the staircase, and up to his room. He sets her down on the bed and takes her heels off, sliding his hands up her calves and thighs. He pulls her to her feet so he can lift the dress up over her head. He tugs her nylons off along with her underwear, and unclips her bra, leaving her naked in front of him. He licks his lips and kisses her. Running his hands all over her body. She works to get his shirt undone, and pushes it off his shoulders. She undoes his pants and lets them drop to the floor, he steps out of them, and they both fall back on the bed. He grinds his hard dick, still clothes by his boxers, right into her core, and she groans. He continues to grind against her, and she moves her hips along with his to get some extra friction.

“I want you to suck me off while I fuck you with my tongue.”

She nods and they switch positions so he can lay on his back. She gets situated over his face, and she lowers herself on his body. His tongue moves back and forth along her slit before entering her. She gasps just as she’s getting her lips wrapped around him. His hands grip her hips so he can lick into her in just the right way. She moans around his cock as she tries to bob up and down on him. He removes his tongue from her so he can finger her, and he licks up to her other hole, something they’ve done before. She chokes on his dick and pulls off, choosing to pump him instead.

“Shit, Harry, oh my god!”

He moans against her as she comes around his fingers. He pulls his fingers away and laps her up. He rolls her onto her stomach, and he grabs a condom quickly. He rolls it on and spreads her legs wide open. She lifts her hips up as he pushes inside her, and he grabs a pillow to put under her back. He rocks in and out of her as his hands knead her breasts. She wraps her arms around his neck to pull him down to her, and she licks into his mouth. He moans into her as their chests touch and sweat starts to form between their bellies.

“Y/N.” He moans into her ear, and it raises goosebumps all over skin. She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. He kisses on her neck and she runs her fingers through his hair. “I want you to come at the same time as me, think you can do that?”

“Y-yeah.”

He snakes a hand between them so he can rub her clit and her mouth falls open. They make eye contact the entire time, and they cry out as they come together. He collapses on top of her, and she holds him close, kissing his cheek multiple times. He keeps his head buried in her chest for a few moments. He looks up at her, about to say something, but her phone goes off.

“Shit, it could be the kids…”

“One second.” He pulls out of her with a grunt, and lets her up. She gets up and waddles over to his dresser and grabs her phone.

“Ben?”

“Hi, Mum, I’m sorry it’s so late, but Riley doesn’t feel well. I think it’s her period, but she’s on the floor, like, clutching at her stomach and I don’t know what to do for her…”

“Shit, okay, um, get her a glass of milk and two ibuprofen from the cabinet. I’ll be home soon, I’ll set up a warm compress for her. She gets really bad cramps like me sometimes.”

“Okay, thanks, sorry again.”

“No problem, I’ll see you soon.” She turns to Harry. “I…I’m sorry, I can get an uber or-“

“I’ll drive you, don’t be silly.” He says, already throwing some sweats on. “Do you want something to change into so you don’t have to put all that back on?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

He gets her a sweatshirt and some sweatpants. Once she’s cleaned herself up they’re out the door and into his car. This time around he holds her hand the whole way, their fingers intertwined and everything. When he turns the car off when he pulls in, she gives him a funny look.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m coming in, obviously.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know, now come on.”

They get inside, and poor rile is still laying on the floor sucking milk out of a straw. Ben was sitting on the ground neck to her rubbing her back.

“Mum?”

“Hi, sweetie.” Y/N gets on her knees next to her.

“Feels like someone’s squeezing my insides with a spiked glove.”

“I know, baby, the medicine will work soon, I promise.” She sighs. “Ben, in the bathroom cabinet is where the warm compresses are, could you get one for me please?”

“Yeah.” He stands up and looks at Harry, but doesn’t say anything. Riley sees Harry’s sneakers and turns to look at him.

“Hey, Mr. Styles…”

“Hey.” He smiles. “Not feeling great, huh?”

“Cramps.” She says bluntly.

“Ugh, that’s the worst.” He sits down next to her. “My older sister used to get them really bad, I felt terrible.”

Ben comes back with the warm compress, and Y/N snaps it to get it to warm up, and she presses it to Riley’s lower back. She sighs from the feeling.

“See? Better already.” Y/N says.

“I don’t know what happened. I was fine all night, and then I got up to get some more soda, and I basically fell to the ground.”

“The bad ones can creep up on you unfortunately. I need to get you up to your room.”

“I could carry her…if…if that’s alright with everyone.” Harry says.

“That would be okay.” Riley says. “No one else could do it anyways.”

He helps her up, double and triple checking it’s okay that he’s touching her, and he carries her up. Y.N has Ben clean up the living room before he goes to bed. Y/N goes into Riley’s room after Harry’s places her on her bed.

“All set?” Y/N says to her, brushing some hair away from her face.

“Yeah, thank you.” She yawns. “Goodnight.”

“Night, honey.”

Y/N tugs Harry into her room, and closes the door.

“I’m so sorry, thank you for coming in…I don’t know how I would’ve helped her upstairs, I would have had to make a bed for her on the couch.” Y/N starts tearing up. “There are so many things I can do for them on my own until I’m reminded that there are things that I just can’t.”

“Hey.” He puts his hands on her shoulders. “You’re a great mum and you’re doing what you can. I couldn’t imagine being so young and raising two teenagers. You make it look easy, honestly. You’re amazing, Y/N.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.” He nods.

“Would you…I mean…it’s late, um, would you want to just stay here?”

“It wouldn’t be weird for you?”

“No.” He smiles and starts taking his clothes off. They get into bed together and cuddle all night. He somehow was always exactly what she needed, and it scared her a little. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Put me at ease the way you do?”

“I don’t know.” He smiles down at her. “Didn’t realize I did that for you.”

“Well, you do. And I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Christ, Y/N, just admit you like me as more than just a guy who fucks you good so we can date already.”

“What?” She sits up and so does he. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. You don’t wanna date? I mean we practically already are when you think about it. I’m not seeing anyone else, are you?”

“With your clingy ass? Who would have the time?!” She laughs.

“Oi, I resent that.”

“You ask me to hang out literally every weekend.”

“Yeah, cause I need to get to you before someone else does.”

“Harry…you realize if you get into a relationship with me you’re getting into a relationship with my kids, right?”

“I do.” He nods. “I know it’ll be a lot, but if it means I get to be with you…I think I could be all in with them. I can’t speak for Ben, but I know Riley likes me. I feel like we could make this work.”

“I don’t want more kids…I’m almost thirty-four, I would hate for you to end up wanting kids of your own. That’s not something I can give you, Harry.”

“You know what I’d really like?”

“What?”

“A dog. I’m great with pets, absolutely great. I miss having a pup around. If we get to a point where we feel like that’s the right move, that would definitely be enough for me.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog.” She bites her bottom lip. “Wow, okay, so…we’re doing this?”

“We fucking better be, I think Niall will explode if we don’t.”

They both giggle, and kiss each other. They settle back down to get some sleep, ready for whatever the morning brings.

a/n: if you liked what you’ve read, and are able/want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee.

#harry styles #something new #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #teacher!Harry

2K notes · View notes

witchlyboo · 3 years ago

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

109 notes · View notes

gashinabts · 4 years ago

Text

hands-on learner| (m)

Word: 3.5k

Pairing: hentai voice actor!Seokjin x hentai voice actor!Reader

Genre: mature, smut, fluff

Summary: seokjin teaches you in unethical way on how to give your best hentai voice.

Warnings: hentai, public sex, DEGRADING, humiliation, dirty talk, rough sex, slut is used multiple times, fingering, overstimulation, choking, spitting, unprotected sex, ass & pussy slapping

a/n: just a quick one-shot for my babes. hope you enjoy this fic :) remember that your comments and support are what motivates me to write!

When you were little you always wanted to help people. The teacher would ask you what you want to be when you grow up, and you would reply to a doctor or a nurse somewhere in the lines of helping people. But when you came to the age of realizing that you live in a world where being the person you want to be came with a price such as starving yourself in order to pay for college classes you changed what you wanted to be.

You are still helping people but not in a way that people would give a noble peace award for. As in right now you are reading a lewd script and fake orgasming. “ Y/N, reshoot. The words are off,” the director tells you. You look at the screen and watch as the hentai girl is getting pumped by an overload of semen, and you do a voiceover of a few high pitch moans and cries. “ Okay! Good,” the director gives you a thumbs up.

You smile and gulp the water soothing your throat, you get out of the sound booth immediately bumping into Seokjin's chest. “ Watch and learn how a real pro does his work,” he tells you in a cocky tone. Seokjin is just wearing a hoodie and jeans yet he looks like a high class model, his light brown hair is pushed back and he looks hot but too bad he is an asshole.

Rolling your eyes you push his chest away, “ No thanks. All you have is a couple of weird cringey dialogue and a few grunts,” you hear him laugh as he enters the vocal booth. You sit down next to Yoongi who is part of the sound engineer making sure everything goes well. “ I hate him. He thinks he is all that, look at him,” you scoff.

“ Yeah, it also looks like you want to fuck him,” Yoongi lets out a chuckle. Okay, he is not wrong. You want to fuck Seokjin at least once to get all the sexual tension out of the way but somewhere in the back of the mind you think Seokjin likes to fuck in front of mirrors so he can watch himself the whole time.

The director taps you on your shoulder and brings you outside in the hallway, “ The team and I were going through the comments from the previous work we have done…” Mr. Kim pulls out his ipad. Your eyes zoom in at some of the comments that make you see red.

@lolligirls- She sounds so fake

↳ @Y/N’sbitch- dumbass all of this is fake. no one is actually having sex in these hentai videos

@hentitties- Clearly this voice actor never had sex...lol

@hrny4animethighs- I couldn’t get past the five minutes, I had to go to a different video

@hentaiaddict- Seokjin is such a good voice actor, I nearly creamed my pants from him just saying hello

“ Thank you Y/N’sbitch, clearly this person knows how things work,” you roll your eyes. You give the ipad back not wanting to see it anymore, what do these people know about voice acting, you're the one getting paid and making them ejaculate in tissue in their gamer room.

Mr. Kim clears his throat before speaking, “ There are more praises and positive comments for Seokjin’s voice so I asked him to give you some pointers. You guys will have to send me a voice memo of the script I’m going to send you tonight,” you make a sound a protest but he gives you a look, “ Or else you will just have a supporting role in the newest project.” He walks off to the other direction. The minute he’s out of earshot you kick the trash can which makes the trash fall out causing you to get more frustrated. You pick up the trash and toss it in the bin, muttering curse words to yourself. Now you have to see Seokjin’s cocky face all night giving you stupid tips that you don’t even need.

You walk back inside the studio, Seokjin is out of the vocal booth and flirting with a woman, while Yoongi is going over the vocal track. “ I heard what happened, in all honesty you are my second favorite voice actor,” Yoongi tells you as you sit next to him.

You sigh, “ Who’s your first?” The chair makes a squeak as you adjust the seat height. Glancing over at Seokjin, he makes eye contact while giving you a smug smile then turning back to his conversation with the lady. Scoffing, you turn your attention to Yoongi as he fiddles with track volume.

Yoongi looks at you, his eyebags are dark “ Jimin,” he nonchalantly says. You aren’t even surprise, since they are fucking around. They are somewhere in the lines of friends to lovers but they are both too stubborn to admit they have deep feelings for eachother.

“ I would have never guessed...at least you are going to be here tonight,” you take a sip of the water down the ice coffee you bought earlier this morning. If Yoongi is here, you have nothing to worry about.

“ Actually it’s just going to be you and Seokjin. Told Mr. Kim I have an important date,” Yoongi’s ears turn red. At least someone is getting dick you think to yourself. “ Try not to kill each other,” he tells you.

****

Everyone has left the studio and it’s just you and Seokjin. You are going through your lines, a corny script of a girl spending the night with her boyfriend’s best friend and they end up fucking, nothing out of the ordinary. “ Okay, I’m ready. I don’t want to be here all night,” you look at him casually scrolling on his phone.

“ Aww, don’t be so mean. I know you are dying to be here with me,” Seokjin puts his phone away, coming closer to you after he presses the start button. He tosses his arm over your shoulder, “ Okay let’s get the show on the road princess,” Seokjin guides you to the vocal booth. Immediately you groan, pushing his arm away but your ears turn red at the pet name.

The script is placed right in front of you and you start to read it, going through the introduction of the characters.

Seokjin looks at you more carefully when it gets to the saucy part, his finger on his chin as if he is really inspecting you. “ Mmm, it feels really good,” you whine at the end, making sure you sound as lewd as possible.

Seokjin makes a sharp clap, making you halt from any other sound. “ It doesn’t sound like it feels good. You need to make it sound more real.” Seokjin shakes his head, there’s a small smirk. Your eye twitches wondering if he just wants to purposely get you irritated. “ Do it again, but this time make it sound like someone is actually fucking you,” he nods his head for you to continue.

The last time you got fuck was a year ago, and it was a bad experience. You didn’t even orgasm and the guy came in less than five minutes. This time you repeat the line but with a whiny and sultry tone. Seokjin sighs, shaking his head in disappointment and you get frustrated. “ Well okay then teach me, because I think I sound fucking great,” you pull at the strand of your hair.

“ No need to get mad, I can help you,” Seokjin laughs at your frustration. He comes closer to you and you can smell his faint masculine cologne, his body is close to you. “ I want you to imagine it as if I was fucking you,” he whispers darkly.

You bite your cheek from cursing him off, but you should at least try it out. So you envision him fucking you from behind. The image of his manly hand wrapped around your head while the other is around your neck. He’s probably the type to fuck you like you don’t matter and you can’t help it that actually turns you on. “ Mmm, it feels really good,” you moan as if he is actually ramming his cock into you. You look at his approval and he nods, a small sense of victory comes over you. Until you feel his hand pushing your hair to the other side you leaving one side of your neck bare. He is closer to you, right behind you, his chest barely touching your body.

“ Is this okay?” He whispers into your ear. You whisper a yes and his plump lips kiss your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses that leaves your skin tingling. “ I’m barely touching you and you are so reactive,” he takes notice of your heavy breathing. He licks a small part of your neck, then blows on it watching you squirm at the sudden coldness.

“ Someone can walk in,” you look at the door. You don’t remember locking it, and what if the janitor comes in. Maybe that makes it more tempting for you, being caught in Seokjin’s lust. “ Seokjin,” you whine as he bites on your earlobe.

“ You would like that...to have someone see you getting fucked hard by me. Drooling because of my cock is hitting you in just the right spot,” his hand goes under your shirt just resting on bare waist. Then his fingers tracing up and down your stomach meeting the underside of your bra but then going back down.

“ I-no,” you shake your head in defiance. He laughs and grabs your jaw forcing your neck to twist and look at him. His eyes are darker, and he gives you a pointed look making you change your answer. “ Yes, I’d like that,” you whimper, as his rough hand pats your cheek heavily as a reward.

“ See silly girl, lying won’t get you anywhere,” he taunts you. His body then pushes you forward so you now against the glass window, you place your hands on the cold glass. Seokjin takes his time taking off your clothes. You are the only one naked on the and the cold air from the ac makes your nipples hard and from the lustful stare Seokjin has. “ I should just leave you like this and call everyone here to look at you,” Seokjin has a sinister smile when you shake your head in fear. “ Why? You look like a perfect slut. I bet you are already wet from just me kissing your neck,” he pushes your chest so your back is now against the cold window.

The degrading names are something new to you, and your thighs squeezed together try to relieve some pain. “ Then leave me here. I bet someone else can fuck me better than you,” you shrug your shoulders, hoping he’ll get mad.

His jaw clenches, “ Spread your legs,” he forcefully helps you by slapping the inside of your thighs. “ Look at you so fucking wet,” he comments looking down at your drolling lips. His hand then comes to slap your cunt, you flinch but then feel the pain subside to pleasure. Your body coming forward falling into his chest but his hand pushes you back to the glass, “ Take it like a good slut,” he tsk at you shaking his head. The slaps come in intervals as he chuckles at your betweens of moaning and whimpering. A few slaps hitting your clit and you cry out his name to slap you more. By the time he is done your cunt feels numb and your legs shake, your hands fisting at his shirt. “ We just started and you are already giving up on me,” he massages your cunt soothingly, spreading your arousal and barely entering the tip of his finger in your entrance.

Shaking your head, you look up at him, “ Seokjin, please fuck me. I want to be your good slut,” you deliriously say in ecstasy. His lips lift up and his two fingers thrust quickly into you, with no warning. Your head falls forward onto his hard chest staring at his fingers thrusting deep and hard, the juices becoming more apparent on his hand. You have never been this wet in your whole life, is this what you have been missing?

One of his hands pulls your hair back to you looking at him, “ Open wide,” you do as you are told and he spits in your mouth. The spit slides easy as you swallow it, opening your mouth for more as if it was fiji water. He spits again and purposely misses your mouth landing on your cheek, “ Oops,” he smirks then wiping his spit across your whole cheek. And you don’t care, just consumed in the pleasure of his fingers still fucking you open. Your eyes roll back when his fingers curl, your stomach feeling warm. “ Come on my fingers you dirty slut, make them smell like you,” he watches you unravel.

One last thrust and you come all over his fingers, thighs shaking when he continues to thrust at fast pace not stopping when you try to pull away. He pushes you even more to the glass so you have no escape but to come again on his fingers, your body is confused to having back to back orgasms. Screaming his name in ecstasy, your cunt pulsates at the euphoric sensation. Body releasing everything you got, your chest is heavy and you finally feel him pull his fingers out, his fingers then shoving in your mouth. “ My fingers are dirty because of you,” he chastises you. Your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of you tasting your own come for the first time, his intense gaze watches you suck the juices off his fingers. Moaning around his finger just like it was your favorite flavor lollipop. Sucking one last time, your lips smack as he pulls them out, “ Fuck me like you hate me,” your hand travel to his hard bulge lightly squeezing it.

You close your eyes and pucker your lips when he leans down, only for him to whisper into your ear, “ I don’t wanna see your face if I fuck you,” he twist your body so your breast are flat against the window, side of your face pressed down on it too. You take a deep breath partially because you're nervous yet excited about what is about to come. The sound of his buckle is being undone and his pants, there’s no preparation as he thrust his cock into. Yelping at the sudden force, one of his hands holds against your throat and the other tight on your waist. His thrust are fast and rough, fucking you to his own pleasure and you don’t mind. “ I’m surprise you're tight,” he thrust harder and you cry out in pleasure, “you’re not fucking anyone, right?” Your mind is blank, only focusing on the thickness of his cock stretching you out painfully good. His hand occasionally squeezes your throat, letting your life be at his hands. He slaps your ass hard, you cry at the stinging sensation. “ Answer me slut,” he spanks your ass again harder.

Shaking your head the best you could you answer. “ No. There’s nobody,” your body jolts at his thrusts. You try your best staying still, your hands holding against the window, not providing much stability. “ Fuck Seokjin, it’s too much,” you whine. Not sure what is too much. The feeling is overwhelming, you think. Never had been fucked this good.

His hand leaving your throat slides down to your clit, “ Shut up, you can handle it,” he chuckles, slapping your clit, shooting more sparking sensation in your core. “ I can’t stand your fucking mouth. Always talking shit about me, stupid slut. I can hear what you say about me to Yoongi. The voice booth is two way,” he pinches your clit.

Your eyes widen and you mentally want to slap yourself, but who cares the amazing sex is the consequent of your big mouth. Seokjin jackhammers into you, constantly hitting the spot that makes your eyes go cross eyed. The stars are evident when he rubs your clit hard, clawing at the window trying to grab onto anything you moan his name so lewdly as you orgasm harder than the previous two, it sounds like it came for a high-budget porno.

Your thighs tremble at the aftermath of your orgasm yet you want him to use you more. “ Are you gonna take my come like a good slut?” Seokjin asks. His hand moving from your clit to the back of your hair pulling your head back.

“ Mmm, yes I want you to fill me up,” you moan at the thought of his come covering your walls. Three more hard thrust he unravels, grunting your name and coming deep into you, holding your body tight to his.

There’s the feeling of his shirt sticking to your sweaty back but you ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Your body falling limply into his arms as he carries your weight. Breathing is loud from both parties, he kisses your head and rubs your arms in a soothing manner. “ I’m going to get tissues real quick, okay?” You nod, your throat feeling sore from all the screaming. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before running outside the vocal booth to get a tissue and water. You slide your body on the floor muscles strained from the rough sex, he comes back with a concerned look.

He sits down beside you, but then puts you on his lap laying the back of your head against his chest. He gently spreads your legs, and wets the tissue then uses it to clean the mess he made. Your eyes close, not used to feeling this kind of emotion, like you want to be comforted and swaddled. “ Open your mouth for me, baby,” Seokjin presses the water lightly on your lips. Parting your lips the nice cold liquid travels down your throat, relieving a small part of pain. “ Good girl,” he whispers, one hand caressing your cheek. “ My beautiful baby did a good job today,” he kisses the side of your forehead. You hum in delight at the compliment loving the feeling. He continues praising you, hands caressing every inch of skin and kissing your cheeks.

When you finally have the energy to get dressed, the room is silent because for once you guys aren’t bantering. You look at him and he is scrolling on his phone like he didn’t just fuck you to oblivion. And it kind of hurts that he’s not looking at you despite him giving all that aftercare. Maybe it’s your after sex hormones making you emotional. “ Imma just go,” your voice is hoarse. He looks up quickly showing you his sparkly eyes, “ I can’t really work like this,” you point to your throat, there’s a slight burn as you speak.

“ Wait, I ordered us food,” Seokjin stands up showing you the receipt order of kimchi jjigae on his phone. “ But if you want to leave, that's fine,” he rubs his neck. “ Let me at least order you a taxi,” he goes on his phone.

“ No!” You embarrassingly say loudly. His eyes widened at the sudden outburst. You blush like an idiot, “ I mean, no I would like to stay and eat kimchi jjigae with you.” Seokjin smiles and you smile back.

You and Seokjin waste no time eating the food, taking less than fifteen minutes to finish the food. “ I’m too tired to do the voice memo. I’ll just take the supporting role,” you lay your head back in defeat.

Seokjin is cleaning the mess and he shakes his head, “ I’ll tell him that you did a good job and that we forgot to record it,” he throws the food cartons in the trash can.

“ Yeah but those stupid comments,” you groan loudly. “ What if I do suck?” You ask yourself, thinking about @hrny4animethighs’ comment.

“ Impossible. You are a talented voice actress, those comments are just trolls.” Seokjin sits down next to you.

You face him, smiling at his nice comment. “ Really?” You get fuck by Seokjin once and now your head over heels for him.

“ Yes.” Seokjin cutely rubs your head. “ But if you need any help, just imagine me fucking you,” he laughs as you groan pushing his hand away. “ You want to know I’m so good at hentai voice acting?” You nod at his question. “ Because I imagine you,” he likes the way your cheeks flush.

He stares at your lips, “ Are you finally going to kiss me?” He doesn’t answer but kissing you softly something that you didn’t expect after the filthy sex you guys had earlier. His lips feel like soft pillows and you could feel yourself getting lost, your hands finally get to feel what his hair feels like. Soft and silky.

“ Go out with me,” he pulls a centimeter away. His breath hitting your lips.

The Kim Seokjin wants to go out with you? “ It’s only fair because you gave me some pointers,” you shrug. Seokjin chuckles and attacks you with kisses, wondering how he is falling quickly for you.

-------------------------------------

Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.

275 notes · View notes

myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

Text

Under My Skin - Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 3,644

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW

Summary: Matthew can be a pest but what happens when your ex, Auston Matthews get under his skin.

Notes: So I’m having a sad bitch moment and thought, why not post this. I finally broke down and wrote for this boy. Who knows if it’ll happen again...haha! At any rate hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading!

Matthew first met you over a year ago when you’d moved to Calgary for work. You had just finished your degree and a job opportunity had landed you in the same city where he was playing. You’d been out at the bar with some co-workers and had caught his eye immediately. You were everything that Matthew was looking for in a woman, smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, with a charm that seemed to draw everyone around you in. You were like a magnet and Matthew couldn’t resist your pull.

That first night he’d barely been able to talk to you. You’d been besotted with people left and right, and it seemed as though every time Matthew worked up the courage to speak with you, you would get pulled away. Matthew finally ran into you on the way to the restroom. Like, literally ran into you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Matthew apologized steadying you with a hand on your waist. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary but you weren’t complaining.

“It’s ok I wasn’t paying attention.” You held up your phone in defense. You’d been so distracted by a text, that you really weren’t watching where you were going. “Did you ever have someone text you that you hoped you’d never hear from again?”

It was an interesting introduction to a conversation but then Matthew would take any opportunity he could get to speak to you. “Actually, yes.”

“It’s so annoying, right?”

“Well, there is a way to solve that problem.”

Your eyes held his with rapt attention, and Matthew could tell you were clinging to his every word. It was then that it struck him that he never wanted that look to fade from your face. “How?”

“Come have a drink with me and forgot about whoever it is on that phone.” You smiled. It was a bright, brilliant thing of beauty that Matthew swore could light up the night sky on its darkest days. He was sold right then and there, and with just that simple gesture you had no idea that you’d swooped in and stolen his heart that night.

You forgot about that text message fairly quickly and just settled into an easy conversation with Matthew. The night flew by and before you knew it, your co-workers were calling it a night and you were all heading home. Matthew asked for your number which you gave in hopes that he would call you soon. Little did you know that after you left, Matthew debated with himself on how long to wait to text you. Every unsaid rule in the code of dating said to wait for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours before making a move, but Matthew was never one to follow convention. As he lay in bed, he decided to send you a quick message.

Had a great time tonight.

It was short and to the point, and Matthew figured if you answered then he would ask you out again. Unfortunately, for Matthew, he wasn’t the only one texting you as you crawled into bed after taking off all your makeup. You were just getting ready to reply to Matthew when another text came in. It was the fourth of the night from the same person that had messaged you before, Auston Matthews.

You hadn’t spoken to him in months, back when you were in Toronto, and you didn’t plan on speaking to him now, though he seemed to be trying his hardest to get your attention, just as he had been for the last couple of months. Your relationship with Auston had been nothing short of toxic. Oh sure, at first it was all hearts and roses in the beginning. Auston swept you off your feet with that charming smile of his, but then you were young and the flashy NHLer said all the right things, at first.

You weren’t normally one to tumble into bed right after the first date, though that’s what happened with Auston. He made it seem like you were the only one, but after dating him for only four months you’d found out that wasn’t true. Oh, he tried to brush it off, make it seem like he wasn’t cheating. That the panties you’d found lying tucked between the nightstand and the bed were some old fling and not some random hookup he’d brought home. You wanted to believe him and so you let your heart overpower your head and stayed with him until you’d literally walked in on him in bed with another woman. There was no talking his way out of that one.

It was an easy decision to break things off with him, though he kept trying to win you back. You were good for his image and he thought that he could keep you happy while he had some fun on the side. The only thing was you didn’t want him back, even though his friends tried to helped his cause. That’s when you decided to take the job in Calgary. It was an easy decision six months ago. Which is part of the reason it surprised you when he texted tonight. He was in Calgary for a game and wanted to talk. You’d honestly were debating seeing him when you’d run into Matthew.

Matthew, you sighed. His curly hair and shaved sides gave off this bad boy vibe, but as you sat there and talked to him, you’d realized he had to be one of the sweetest men out there. You hadn’t realized at first who he actually was. Auston had turned you off to the NHL scene altogether, so you no longer paid attention to the games, even if hockey was Canada’s major sport. Honestly, you wish you didn’t know he was in the NHL. It was part of the reason you were debating about answering him. Maybe you would just sleep on it and decide in the morning.

Meanwhile, Matthew was having a mild panic attack. He told himself that maybe you lived close to the bar and had already fallen asleep before you got his text, or that you’d turned off your phone the minute you got home. He constantly kept checking his, looking for those three little dots letting him know that you were sending something back. It was torturous.

You laid there all of twenty minutes before you decided that you couldn’t resist the curly-haired man that had captured your attention tonight. Grabbing your phone, you shot off a quick, I did too. You typed and erased it three times, wondering if you should add more before finally pressing the send button. There it was done, if he said something back, you’d go from there. Fifteen seconds later, you knew you were in trouble.

Maybe we could do it again sometime?

Matthew was sweating as he hit send. He’d never been this nervous before about a woman. They either liked him or didn’t, but you, you were different. He knew that from the moment he saw you. It was even more prevalent now after he’d spent most of the night with you.

I’d like that.

Was your simple reply back. One that had Matthew ready to jump up and out of bed with excitement. And so the texting went on for the next ten minutes until he finally ended up calling you. The two of you talked for over an hour, almost as if you’d known each other all your lives, and you completely forgot about the texts from Auston.

Matthew took you out three days later to an exclusive restaurant in the city. This time you told yourself you’d not make the same mistake you’d made with Auston. So, when the night drew to a close, Matthew drove you to your apartment then very properly walked you to the door and only kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t what you expected. You’d thought he’d go for more, but Matthew wanted to do things right. He knew you were special and he wasn’t going to mess things up by sleeping with you on night one. He was in this for the long run.

That was over a year ago. Sure, it had been difficult at first to give him your complete trust, but Matthew had earned it and over time you knew that although he may be a pest on the ice, he was anything but that in your personal life. Now the two of you shared a home and were on your way to making a life together.

You’d kept your relationship on the down-low, staying off of all forms of social media to keep the wolves at bay. Which meant that no one, including Auston, knew that you and Matthew were dating. That was until he and everyone else saw you in the background of Taryn’s video for Brady’s twenty-first birthday. The picture highlighted Brady but behind him, there was Matthew nibbling on your neck and ear. Fans picked up on it right away, wondering who you were and Matthew decided he was tired of hiding the two of you. A week later he was posting a picture of the two of you holding hands on your way back to Calgary.

That was dozens of posts and months ago. Your life with Matthew was nothing short of amazing, until the Flames played the Leafs. Matthew was in Toronto while you stayed back in Calgary for work. It was an early game and you joined the other wives and significant others in a small little watch party. Drinks were flowing freely, so you really didn’t catch the exchange between Matthew and Auston in warmups.

Matthew was minding his own business as he stretched near the centerline. That’s when Auston started with the little jabs. “Nice little piece of ass you picked up Tkachuk.” Matthew was used to guys talking shit about all kinds of things on the ice, though normally it was about him being a dirty player or how Brady was the better Tkachuk on the ice; all that shit he could handle. He wasn’t used to someone taking stabs at you.

“Shut the fuck up Matthews,” he replied then skated away. If Auston was looking for a fight, he’d get one if he kept up this banter, but not until the game started.

It wasn’t until the end of the first that Auston got a chance to chirp Matthew again. “Tell me, Tkachuk, does (Y/N) still make the same pretty moans…”

“Finish that and you’ll regret it,” Matthew told him. It was the only warning Matthew was going to give. Of course, Matthew knew that you’d dated someone in the hockey world and that he’d been a verifiable asshole. He’d never pressed the issue too much as he was trying to turn that stigma about hockey players around. He never liked Auston, he was always cordial to him in non-ice settings but now that he knew he was the cheating bastard who basically used you; he liked him less.

Play resumed before anything else could happen and Matthew was sure to get in a few good checks in before heading back for the first intermission. When he was back on the ice for the second Auston picked up right where they had left off. “So, you like my sloppy seconds, Tkachuk?” Matthew saw red at the insult, and before he knew what he was doing he dropped his gloves and hit Auston. Inwardly, you cringed at the fight, not wanting to let on to the other girls that you had an idea what the exchange was about. Auston went down easy, with Matthew barely touching him, and so off the penalty box he went, while the Leafs went on the power play. You could see him just sitting there stewing, though you weren’t sure if he was mad at himself for letting Auston get to him or mad at you.

The game ended up tied in the third, and little did you know that Auston took the opportunity to get a few more digs into Matthew. “Does she get as wet for as she did for me, or do you have to work for it?” Johnny had to hold him back from leveling him after that, but Auston didn’t let up. “She was such a fucking slut for me in bed. You know I fucked every hole…” That’s all he got out before going down hard as Matthew planted a right hook to his jaw. But Matthew wasn’t done and went after Auston as he lay on the ice. Matthew was ejected from the game and the Leafs scored on the power play.

There was no interview after the game with Matthew, so you had no idea what he was feeling or how pissed he was. As soon as you got home, you tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything that maybe he never turned his phone back on after the game or maybe they were already on the flight back to Calgary, as the team played at home the following day, but you just weren’t sure. So, you laid in the king-size bed you shared with Matthew, wrapped up in your favorite old t-shirt of his, simply staring up at the ceiling.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you didn’t hear the door open or Matthew dropping his bag like you usually did. It wasn’t until he crept into bed that you finally knew he was home. He was laying on his back, hands behind his head when you finally rolled over letting him know you were awake. You’d thought about what to say to him before falling asleep but waited for him to say something to you. When he didn’t you simply whispered, “If you want me to go I will.”

“Go?” Matthew questioned now rolling on to his side so he could see you. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“I never wanted to be a problem for you, Matthew, especially not with other players.” It was part of the reason you’d never told him that you’d dated Auston, though you should’ve known that Auston couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You went to say more, but Matthew stopped you. “You’re not the problem (Y/N). You could never be one.” His fingers ran up and down your arms lightly, just caressing your skin. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” His lips found yours then, and you melted into the feel of him, savoring how his body started to relax against you.

“Auston’s an asshole.” Matthew finally said, when the two of you broke apart.

“Do I even want to know what he said?”

“Just shit to get me riled up, and it worked.” Your one hand went to the back of his neck, massaging the knotted muscles there. “I’m not stupid. I realize what probably happened between the two of you. I just don’t like hearing it.”

“We both have pasts, Matthew. We can’t change that, but you’re my future.”

He gave you a real quick peck to your lips. “And you’re mine. At least I don’t have to deal with him for a couple weeks.”

You pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. “Don’t let him get under your skin, babe. When he starts to say something…” you looked him right in the eyes. “And you know he will. Just remind him how you’re the only one I want with me.” You flexed your hips before running your hands up his bare chest. “And in me.” Matthew’s hands went to your waist, where he played with the band of lace on your panties. “You’re more to me than he’ll ever be. Both here,” you taped your heart and then his. “And here.” Lifting your hips, you took your hand and cupped the length of him. His cock instantly hardened under your touch.

Your words spurred Matthew into action, for the next thing you knew he was ripping your panties, before shimming out of his boxers. His fingers went to your folds, where he found you ready for him. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

“Only for you Matthew. Only for you.” It was extra reassurance that you knew Matthew needed and tonight you’d give him as many as he needed. He guided your hips down onto his cock and you sighed out with pleasure as he filled you like no one else ever had.

As you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt Matthew whispered harshly, “Leave it on.” It was one of his Flames shirts; one that had both his name and number on the back. Leaning down you kissed him long and hard, before starting to ride him. It was slow at first, a pace meant to build you both up but not push you over the edge. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt caressing your breasts, wandering down your back to cup your ass, and moving up and down your thighs to quicken your speed.

Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he flipped your bodies so that he loomed over top of you. His thrusts were deep and hard, almost punishing if your body hadn’t wanted him so bad. “You belong to me.” He said as he flexed into you, pushing you up against the headboard.

“Yes, baby. Only you.”

“Who?” He asked again and you realized that he was not in the mood to hear any pet names.

“You, Matthew, you,” you answered knowing that he owned you both body and soul, just as you owned him.

“That’s right, baby.” Matthew's thrusts were deep and sure, as he knew what would bring you pleasure, and with a few more flexes of his hips, he sent you spiraling out of control, screaming his name.

“MMMAAATTTTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEWWW.”

That was all he needed to catch his high and follow you down, your name on his lips. He rolled onto his side taking you with him; your breaths mingling together as you both calmed. Your nails skimmed down his spine aimless, something you tended to do after sex. Matthew always said he loved the continued intimacy it brought, and tonight it felt like you both needed that. His lips found yours, the kiss loving and tender. “I love you, (Y/N),” Matthew whispered while brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I promise, I won’t let Auston get to me next time.”

“Good, because you’re the only man I love Matthew, and the team doesn’t need you getting ejected from games because of me.”

“It won’t happen again.” You truly hoped that it wouldn’t but with Matthew’s temper you never knew.

It was a little over two weeks later that the Flames were taking on the Leafs, this time at the Saddledome, where you were in attendance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous on the inside as to what would happen between the love of your life and the once lowlife that you'd briefly called boyfriend. You tried to shake off your nerves with idle chatter with some of the girls, but your eyes always seemed to drift back to where Matthew and Auston were on the ice.

Matthew for his part stayed away from center ice for warmups, just like he told you he would. It wasn’t until the second period after a blown whistle that Auston finally decided to poke at him. “How’s that girlfriend Tkachuk? You know if I told her I wanted her back she’d leave you in a second.”

“I doubt that Matthews. She told me you couldn't satisfy her in the bedroom. Something about cumming too soon.” Anger started to radiate across Auston’s face. “You should see a doctor about that.” Matthew skated away, completely ignoring anything Auston would be able to say back.

The game was tied late in the third once again when Auston tried to rile Matthew up again. Considering he had two assists you understood why they wanted your boyfriend out of the game. “It wasn’t me who had the problem Tkachuk, (Y/N)’s pussy was wider than the Grand Canyon.”

“Hmm,” Matthew taunted back. “Must be your small pencil dick, because she’s so tight it’s like a vice-grip around me.” Auston took offense and cross-checked Matthew into the boards right as the play began, earning him two minutes in the penalty box. Matthew laughed at him as the ref took him over. Auston wasn’t there for long, as Matthew scored the game-winning goal forty-some seconds into the penalty. You jumped up out of your seat with the rest of the girls cheering and screaming.

Even though they pulled the goalie, the Leafs couldn’t seem to find the back of the net before the buzzer sounded ending the game. You made your way down to wait outside the tunnel with the rest of the significant others. Most everyone was gone before Matthew finally came out, scooping you up in his arms. “Did you see that baby?”

“I saw Matty,” you told him, kissing him on the lips. “That goal was impressive.”

He finally set you back down on your feet. “No babe, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t let him get to me.”

“Yeah, I saw that too. I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, he can’t get under my skin about you, when I get to be all over yours.” His hands slid under your sweater and inside your jeans to cup your ass. “Speaking of your skin…let’s go home so I can get you out of all these clothes and see you.”

You kissed him, long and languidly, before pulling back. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.” The two of you left the arena hands interlaced just as your bodies would be as soon as you got home.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction

700 notes · View notes

lemonjoonah · 4 years ago

Text

Wrapped Together (M)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 18K Rating: M Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama Warnings: Protected sex, oral (m. rec.), referenced illness/death of parent, swearing, classism. Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

A/N: A big thank you to @kimtaehyunq for asking me to join her Secret Santa Christmas Collab, this was my first collab ever and I absolutely loved it. And of course to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi and @ladyartemesia thank you for helping me gain the courage to post this. I hope that this fic is able to bring a bit of comfort to those celebrating the holidays a little differently this year, so please enjoy!

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Amidst the chatter of the office, a dull rumble reaches your ears and vibrates the desk beneath your fingers, waking you from the repetitive haze of your hundredth call report. The moment of confusion switches to frantic action when your brain finally catches on and recognizes it as your own personal phone. Scurrying through your purse, you nab it just in time, but after checking the caller ID you desperately wish you hadn’t.

You knew this call was coming, you’ve dreaded it since you felt the first freezing snowflake on the tip of your nose, when you heard the first carol blaring over the radio, and saw the first tacky inflatable gracing a lawn on your street. It happens every year, like clockwork, though this will be the first time she’ll be enlisting one and not two. Unable to put off the dreaded moment any longer, you answer, accepting that if you rip the band-aid off now and decline her invitation to join the wrapping fundraiser, it’ll be one less uncomfortable moment later.

“Aunt Emma, hey it’s been awhile.” She’s not exactly your aunt, but you’ve known her ever since you and your mother settled down here ten years ago. With little other family nearby she was one of the few you and your mom could always count on. Making your task to turn her down all the more difficult now.

“My dear, how are you holding up? I’m so sorry to do this but I'm calling with some rather unfortunate news.”

“Oh?” You exclaim, careful not to sound too hopeful that you might be free of your heavy burden.

“Yes, well it’s regarding the wrapping fundraiser. I wanted to put you on the same shifts as myself or Maria. I didn’t want to have you alone, since, well, you know... but there are so many rookie volunteers this year. And with you being part of the organization for so long, I was hoping you work with one of them instead for the evening shifts? It’ll just be you and him, do you think you could manage it?”

“I-I uh...” Now this is something you had not expected. You spent the past few weeks worrying about how you might have to work side by side with pitying glances, condolences, and referenced scripture from the usual staff. Any thoughts and prayers for your loss would likely turn you into a pool of tears. Not something you want to happen in public, or private for that matter, but if you are partnered with a newcomer, one who knows nothing of your past, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I can do that.”

“I knew you could! I’ll put you down for the weekday evenings from the seventh up to Christmas. You’re off work at four, right? I’ll send you more details later, but do you want me to be there to introduce you to the other volunteer?”

“No!” You blurt out, insisting in a volume far louder than necessary, but you can’t risk her acting on the offer. Introductions when done by Emma are dicey at best, with one solid breath she has the capacity to share every bit of your sad history, leaving you exactly where you’d rather not be. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. No need to put yourself out like that, you can just tell me their name now and save yourself the trip.”

“Thank you dear, always so considerate. One second let me just grab that for you...” She pauses on the phone line, as you look around your office in worry, not wanting to get in trouble for taking a personal call on the clock. “Ah here it is. You’ll be working with Kim Namjoon...”

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

After finishing work you head off to the mall for your first day on wrapping duty. It should be a relatively quiet night, since the majority of the crowd typically disperses at this time, heading home to be with families for dinner. Your own sits in a paper bag on the passenger seat of your car. A solitary meal as you battle the rush hour traffic. Finishing off the last of the salted fries with a lick of your fingers while you secure a parking spot.

Flipping down your visor you scoff when confronted with your appearance, your makeup melted off thanks to the struggles of your earlier shift. You dab and blend a fresh blot of concealer on the dark bags beneath your eyes, determined to erase any evidence of your doleful days and sleepless nights.

The rented store space is already set up, with a long table propped up right at the entrance. Dressed with a variety of paper and ribbon and looking particularly festive. The other volunteers give you a brief greeting and run down before they leave and pass the duties off to you. With them gone you take a seat, looking down at the selection you have to offer this year, trying with all your might not to focus on the empty chair beside you, one that is usually fill by your-

“Hi, sorry I’m late...” Your gaze flicks up from the table, startled to find a giant of a man. Greeting you with a smile warm enough to melt your frozen expression.

“H-hi,” You stutter out, staring at his handsome face framed with light brown locks, feeling as though you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite place where. “You must be Namjoon?” You ask, running through the list of actors and singers in your mind but coming up empty on who he reminds you of.

He nods, before confirming your name too, and launching into the reason behind his tardiness. “The traffic was not in my favour today.” He gestures to the table and the vacant seat behind it. “May I?”

“Of course.” You quickly scoot the folding table over so he can slip by the barrier that separates you from the mall. He takes off his coat to reveal a whole suit beneath, though he soon disposes of the jacket and tie too. You try not to gulp as he rolls up his sleeves in front of you, his arms flexing as they reveal themselves.

“Pretty quiet?” He asks looking around the mall.

“It usually is around now, give it an hour or two.”

“Have you been doing this long?”

“A few years...” You mumble, not wanting to dive too deep in that well, you quickly turn to pin the question on him instead. “What prompted you to volunteer? Did Emma enlist you during her recruiting effort?”

“She did, I found her posting the flyer at my workplace.” Namjoon chuckles. “But I’ve seen you all set up here before, and since my usual Christmas plans with my family have changed, I thought I’d join you all instead.”

“Oh, so you’re not spending Christmas with them?”

“No, they’ve gone to visit my sister and her family in her city this year. I unfortunately have a few work commitments I can’t get out of to make the trip in time, but rather than just mope about at home I thought I might be of some use.” Namjoon smiles again, his fingers folding the corner of the wrapping paper in front of him. “What about you, any plans?”

“No, I usually spend it with my mom, but she won’t be with me this year...” Or any year going forward, you consider while you give him a weak smile. She was the very reason you joined this organization all those years ago, when Aunt Emma was making her rounds and signing up everyone she could at the hospital, you and your mother were there for an appointment, your mom offered up both of your services lending you to a tradition that would extend for years through her treatment, remission, and the final return.

“So we're in the same boat?”

“I guess so.” His grin is so contagious, despite the differences in your situation you can’t help but agree.

Your first client of the evening comes forward and drops a small pile of kids toys in front of you both . “Thank god you're here. If I bring these home unwrapped my kids won’t hesitate to spoil the surprise.” You divide the presents between you and Namjoon while the mother keeps talking and flicking through the different styles of paper offered. “At least if they’re wrapped I can say I saw Santa at the mall and he gave me these early. They are so hard to fool these days.”

“I take it you’ll want the Santa stickers?” You ask pointing to a closed box behind you, hidden away from the wide and prying eyes of young children passing by.

“Yes, thank you so much!”

“No problem.” You assure her while putting the last piece of tape on the stack of video games. Though when you look over to check on Namjoon you find that he has barely even started. He cut off a sheet entirely too big and is attempting to fold it around the boxed animatronic pet. Your eyes stare at the state of the poor paper unable to look away from the crumpled carnage. But the shock soon turns to amusement over his determination to salvage the mangled sheet, and you find yourself biting your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Luckily the woman in front of you hasn’t noticed but once you're finished with yours, you reach over for the assist.

“Here, I can take over that one. Could you do the ribbon for me?”

Namjoon nods opening his mouth in an embarrassed grin. He does manage to secure the strand around the package but loses the spool before he can cut it. The red ribbon rolls all the way to your foot, before you stop it with a tap on the sole of your boot. Namjoon winces, while you let out a chuckle before bending over to hand it back to him, and finish wrapping the other present.

The attempt at a ribbon curl unfortunately goes the same as the package before it, with him completely at a loss and using the wrong edge of the scissor blade. Trying to save him you make another suggestion. “If you want you can always use the premade sticker curls.”

Namjoon nods and places them on the two packages along with the vibrant sticker of a cartoon Claus winking as he delivers the warning, ‘Do not open ‘till Christmas, Santa’s watching.’

As you load up the presents into a bag, Namjoon takes to the cashbox, looking expectantly from the client with his dashingly dimpled grin.

“Oh right.” She comments with an awkward smile. Opening her Gucci bag and matching wallet, the corners of her lips turning down when she rifles through several triple digit bills unable to find any smaller denomination.

The stand is by donation only, but the implication has always been that one should compensate the fundraiser for the service provided. You can usually tell when someone intends to leave no payment at all, and unfortunately you know this act all too well. She’ll apologize and say that she has to run to the bank and get some cash, but you’ll never see her again. Namjoon, unfamiliar with this ploy, continues to give his eager smile, and to your utter shock she submits, handing him a hundred dollar bill.

Namjoon thanks her profusely as she melts too under his gaze muttering, “Not a problem.” Before walking off clutching her now wrapped gifts.

You look to Namjoon in disbelief while he locks the money away in the cash box. Only breaking the silence when the client is fully out of earshot. “How the hell did you do that?!”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow completely oblivious to what he just achieved.

“She... she... you got her to donate, and such a large amount. How?”

“What do you mean how? People give that much all the time don’t they?”

“No, they don’t!”

“Oh...” He gives you another of his knee weakening smiles. “Sorry I assumed, I guess I’m just used to it.” He scratches at the back of his neck looking down at the table.

“Used to it? Where on earth do you see, do you get used to, that kind of generosity?”

“Through my job I suppose?” His grin turns to a look of embarrassment. “I work in art procurement, currently under contract with the museum. I seek out collectors and convince them to donate or loan out their assets.”

It would seem that getting people to open up their wallets is practically his profession. “Well... looks like manning the cash will be the perfect job for you.” That smile of his is a dangerous weapon, and one you would be remiss not to use in the fundraiser’s efforts. Though it still leaves one question unanswered. “But I have to ask...” Your previously concealed giggling comes to the surface. “Why on earth would you volunteer for a holiday wrapping station if you don’t know how to wrap?”

A blush reaches his cheeks. “Last year when I was here... I left with far more than I was expecting, and feeling as though I should have given more. So I figured if I couldn’t be with my own family, I wanted to do this instead.” He starts habitually folding a paper scrap. “And maybe I’d learn a useful skill-”

When a streak of red is left on the paper trailing behind his finger you jump to interrupt. “Is that...”

“Fuck.” He mutters pulling his index close to examine it. “Yeah, those scissors are sharp, didn’t realize I drew blood though.”

You immediately start rummaging around in your bag. “I know I have a couple in here, one second.” You pull out a small box of bandages and peel apart the papers to reveal the adhesive.

“You carry band-aids in your purse?” Namjoon asks, with a raised brow.

“You're the one who cut their finger trying to make a ribbon curl.”

“It wasn’t a criticism, sorry I just thought it was... nice.” He holds up the injury and you're careful to wrap the strip around it.

“Yes well,” Your face heats up as you catch yourself lingering. “Try to stay away from the scissors unless absolutely necessary. I’d rather not have to make a trip to the hospital.”

“That would be counter productive wouldn’t it?” Namjoon laughs outright.

...

Despite you being the only one to wrap you both manage the evening surprisingly well, pulling in a record donation amount.

“You must be good at your job,” you mutter with a smirk, as you finish counting the lockbox. “I’ve never seen people so happy to part with their money.”

“I only showed them how good of a job you did,” Namjoon explains. “I’ve never seen someone put so much care into wrapping.”

“First impressions for a gift can be important too.” You justify as you secure the cash in a deposit bag. “They put a lot of care into selecting the gift, why shouldn’t I exemplify that?”

“Even the gift cards?”

“Especially the gift cards. I have to make them memorable somehow don’t I?”

“True.” Namjoon concedes, with a small frown. “Listen I’m sorry if I didn’t make a good first impression on you myself. If you want I can call Emma and we will find someone else to help you.”

“No, I enjoyed working with you. It just caught me off guard that you didn’t actually know how to wrap. If you get bored of handling the cash I could try and teach you if you’d like... you said you wanted to learn right?”

“You’d be willing to show me?”

“Definitely, though let's stick to the premade ribbon curls. I’d rather not have to use anymore band-aids if I can avoid it.”

After pulling down the gate and locking up the station up behind. Namjoon accompanies you to the bank to drop off the deposit before you part ways for the evening, with you going out one exit and him another.

The sudden blast of cold air forces you to huddle in your coat, and crank the heat the very second you step into your car. As the windows to thaw and frost retreats, you spot your tall wrapping partner waiting at the bus stop.

“Now why would he...” You’re left perplexed judging from the description of his job and quality of his attire you assumed him to drive some sort of flashy car, never would you think he would take public transportation.

You drive over and stop right in front of Namjoon, rolling down the window. “Where do you live?”

“The Swan Estates, but if you don’t leave near there that’s fine I don’t mind bussing home.” Namjoon looks down the road. “It should be here soon.”

“It’s no problem, I pass by that area on my way home.” You reach across the car for the handle opening the door. “Come on get in. It’s too cold to wait for a bus.”

Namjoon nods, and eagerly hops into the car holding his hands close to his vents with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I didn’t think to ask, I just assumed-”

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time.

“As you saw earlier I’m rather accident prone. I think it’s safer for everyone if I leave the driving to others.” He chuckles looking out the window. “What about you? When not rescuing people from cold transit stops or wrapping disasters, what do you daylight as.”

You grimace at the question knowing your answer is nowhere near as impressive as his. “I’m a phone-rep for Interlude Shipping, I work in their tracking department.”

His reaction is not the usual glazed expression you get when you reveal that you work in a call centre, but a look of awe. “You must be so busy this time of year, how do you have energy for volunteering too?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

“It’s... a paycheck. I needed a full time position with benefits right out of school and that was what was available. I would have preferred something else but...” You stop yourself, scolding how much you almost revealed. Finding it far too easy to talk to Namjoon. He doesn’t pester you to continue but lets your abrupt end linger in the silence until he points out his house within the estate. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Namjoon nods in agreement with his dimples on full display. “Looking forward to it. Thanks again for the ride.”

After he leaves your car another nervous giggle you’ve been holding in finally escapes you. Three weeks working with this kind, considerate and downright gorgeous man. Though there’s no ring on his finger, he has to be attached to someone. Men like him don’t walk around single for long. Your shoulders fall at the thought, despite the fact that you have no intention of forming an attachment at this time... it’s still too soon.

Before you even pull out of Namjoon’s driveway, your phone vibrates from the cup holder you stashed it in. Aunt Emma’s name popping up on the display. You press the green button to accept and put her on speaker while you pull out onto the road.

“Hello my dear, just checking in to see how the first night went?”

“Good, no great actually. I think you’ll be happy with the result.”

“And your partner? Everything working well with him?”

“Yeah,” You confirm looking up in the rearview mirror taking one last look at Namjoon’s house. “He’s really nice, we already have a system in place so I think we’ll work well together.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. I was worried at first, wondered if I had made the right decision-”

“You did!” You encourage her, not wanting her to change her mind, and make another switch.

“Great, so we’ll carry on as is then. I’ll message Maria to let her know, I think she’s still on shift at the hospital though...” Aunt Emma mutters to herself. “Speaking of which I had to stop by there today and guess who was asking about you?”

You freeze in the front seat of your car, unable to say his name, but that doesn’t stop your chatty Aunt from continuing on despite your silence.

“That Jackson, such a nice young man, it’s a pity you-”

“Aunt Emma, I’m so sorry but I should go. ” You cut her off unwilling to listen to her disappointment over your own personal matter. “It’s getting late and I have work in the morning.”

“Oh of course, no problem dear. Call me if you need anything.”

When you arrive at your cold and empty apartment. The silence greets you with the usual punch to your gut, just as it has for the past eight months. She should be there to say hello and ask you about your day, just as she always had. But all that’s there to welcome you is the stack of dusty Christmas decor boxes thrown in the corner of the living room. Unwilling to spend another minute alone you sulk off to bed, ready to put another day behind and start the next. But for the first time in a while, you are actually looking forward to a fraction of the never ending cycle.

...

Whoever said Christmas time is the most wonderful time of year, clearly never worked a customer service job. They’ve never been yelled at for four hours straight, gone to lunch, and then endured another four. With a couple weeks still left until the looming deadline of Christmas you can only imagine what you’ll have to listen to in the coming days. The woes of a parent trying to track down their child's number one gift... it’s enough to send chills down your spine. Just once you’d like to find someone happy on the other end of the line, someone who didn’t need something from you, someone who called just to say hi, and indulge you with a friendly chat.

With the last call of the day done you throw on your coat, and bolt out of the office before anyone else. Elated by the fact that you have somewhere else to be, happy that someone else is expecting you. Namjoon beats you to the station today, chatting with the other volunteers as they leave. One of them pats you on the arm and delivers a sad smile, you seize with fear and the worry that they had discussed you, but when you find Namjoon beaming without a hint of concern the weight lifts and you can once again forget your loss for now.

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

“Good... good.” You cover with a smile not wanting to drag him down. He doesn’t look convinced his eyes narrow and the corner of his lip twitches, but you reciprocate before he can confirm. “How about your day?”

“Quiet, I’ve spent the past few months alongside the curators putting together an exhibit and with it finally finished all that’s left is to wait until it’s over.”

“So you had to stay here for Christmas only to wait for it to end? That’s too bad.”

“There are a couple other tasks I have to attend, an auction, and an event for the patrons, but the tear down on the 24th is pretty important, some of the lenders will want their pieces back in time for Christmas.”

“That’s such a miserable deadline for so much work. Why would they ask you to give up your Christmas Eve to do that? Surely it can be done after the holiday can't it?”

“Not this one, it’s ‘The Gift of Christmas’ Past’ exhibit,” Namjoon explains. “Many people were good enough to donate their family heirlooms for the majority of the season, but come the actual holiday, it’s time for them to return home.”

You just about fall off your chair in awe. You’ve seen that exhibit advertised everywhere, even been tempted to go yourself, but the thought of going alone has prevented your attendance. “I had no idea, that’s such a popular exhibit, you worked on that?”

“I did, I even helped come up with the idea for it.” Namjoon beams, with a small amount of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. “The curators at the museum have been more than accommodating. I never thought I’d get the chance to step into their roll myself. I was lucky to be given the chance, so you can understand why I had to stay and help them once it’s finished. Of course it’s given me some other opportunities I would never have had in the past too, like the ability to help you here.”

You nod still looking at him in admiration, while in your mind a further divide falls between you. As friendly as he is to you, it’s obvious that he’s way out of your league. Even if you wanted to pursue something more with him, someone of his status... really it’s a wonder he even looks in your direction, let alone chose to volunteer at this tiny holiday wrapping station.

Your conversation is interrupted by a mall goer with a bag of gifts. Namjoon helps as best he can, supplying you with tape as he learns over your shoulder. Loaning you his finger to help you knot the ribbon around the gifts. With a sizeable donation left in Namjoon’s care you are both left alone at the table again.

Between clients you do your best to show him how to wrap the small boxes and ready cut paper at your disposal. Though his folding has improved, his use of tape can be considered... excessive. “You shouldn’t need more than three pieces on a present like this.” You chuckle as you catch his hand before it can apply the seventh piece of tape.

“But your packaging looks so durable compared to mine. How is it supposed to hold together if not for more tape.”

“Years of practice with tighter folds and better adhesive placement.” You analyze his work. “You might be an up and coming art curator but wrapping is my craft.”

Namjoon laughs and grabs a fresh sheet along with the scissors.

“Should I go fetch my band-aids?” You ask, gazing at the sharp implement with trepidation.

“No I’ve got this, I’m ready to earn my redemption.” Namjoon folds the paper several times before cutting a rounded edge. “Wrapping might not be my forte, but this I mastered long ago.” He opens up the paper grinning madly as he reveals a perfect snowflake.

You giggle at the innocence of the piece in question. “That is quite impressive, when did you become such a proficient?”

“I’d say I peaked at eight. One evening when it was just my sister and I, we covered my whole house with them. Every surface, every window, plastered with paper snow. Though my parents were less than enthused I like to think of it as my first full art show.”

“What on earth possessed you to do it?” You ask, trying to imagine the look on his parents as they returned home to the indoor flurry.

Namjoon looks up with a heavy expression, for such a lighthearted story why does he look so wary to tell you “A mutual fri-”

But as chance would have it he is once again interrupted by another coming to your station. When the post dinner rush hits you hardly get another chance to chat.

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

The week passes in much the same way as the past two days, but with each evening session Namjoon is able to improve upon his wrapping skills a little more. To the point where you are comfortable to leave him alone for a few minutes to man the station.

“You’re sure it’s all right if I just run to the washroom for a minute?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could put up the be back in five minutes sign if you-”

“Go, I can hold down the fort... just leave the band-aids.” You are ready to let out a big sigh when Namjoon holds up his hands in defeat. “Just kidding, I promise, now go.”

You hurry off as fast as you can swearing when you find a line up. By the time that you are finally able to return you find Namjoon finishing up with an attractive woman and her single gift. You smile at her as you join him behind the table, she pauses, caught off guard for a moment but then hands him the donation along with a slip of paper.

Namjoon opens it as she walks off. Blushing profusely before throwing it in the trash along with the wrapping scraps.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing... she just must have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt.

“And you're not going to keep it? She was gorgeous.”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Right, I assume that wouldn’t go over well with your girlfriend.” You speculate, seeking to figure out his status once and for all.

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend either.” Namjoon smiles. “I just wasn’t looking to get her number.”

You look at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t good enough, there’s no way in hell you could ever dream of being with him.

...

The drive home in the evening is rather quiet. Namjoon’s fingers drag across his lips as if in deep compilation.

“Any big plans for your couple days of freedom?” With Aunt Emma’s team working the weekend that gives both you and Namjoon some time off, but unfortunately apart.

“What? Oh yes, I suppose.” He answers as though you dragged him from a stupor. “I have an auction to go to tomorrow for work.”

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

“Not exactly in the market to buy. But if you're not busy you should come along, I would love some company.”

“Not because you would love a drive?”

“No, not at all, I was planning on booking a car tonight. I could come pick you up on the way.”

You shake your head. “No, if we’re going together I’ll drive. No need to waste your money on something like that. What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll have to double check and get back to you but likely late in the morning?” You nod in agreement as he pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

You give it to him and your cell vibrates in your pocket as he sends off a text a second later, leaving you with his own.

“So I guess I will see you tomorrow now then.”

“It’s a date.” Namjoon smiles as he gets out and leaves you in the car.

You snort in disbelief, staring after him while he runs off to the front door of his house. No, there’s no way, he can’t be serious, it’s not a date, date. The phone vibrates again, reminding you of the unread message he sent, prompting you to look at it before you drive off home.

This was the only phone number I actually wanted. See you tomorrow, - Namjoon

...

You lie in bed caught between denial and anticipation for what’s to come in the next day. Every moment that excitement bubbles up inside, you are forced to push it down with the weight of scepticism. Namjoon was looking to distract from his lonely Christmas, you are just the band-aid to his superficial wound, but would that be so bad? Haven’t you been using him the past week in the same manner, a mode of distraction? The only difference is the depths of your injuries. While his might be a simple cut repaired by time, yours is a laceration straight to the heart, damage that will soon bleed through a flimsy bandage, but at least you can hide it for now, you can conceal the extent of your misery and enjoy the comfort that is him for the holiday. Ripping that band-aid off won’t hurt, not compared to the damage that has already been done.

You look back at your phone smiling at his message, confirming that this is what you want for now, when to your surprise another comes in.

KNJ: Are you awake?

You double check the time, 12:23 a little late for a friendly chat isn’t it?

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

KNJ: That depends, what are your thoughts on Hallmark Christmas movies?

You pause in confusion, questioning his motives for such an odd query. Coming up dry you can give him the most truthful answer you can.

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

Your phone starts ringing a second later, the caller Namjoon. You pick it up to hear him laughing on the other end. “I’ll have to remember that. You up for burning a film? I could use another open fire, there’s a pretty horrible one on their channel right now.”

“I’m sure I could spark an ember of criticism. How bad are we talking?”

“There’s a made up country, a town that looks like it exists solely for the purpose of celebrating Christmas-”

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

“Nope, just following the trend of tropes.” You grab your earbuds and venture out to the living room wrapped in your blanket, a beverage in hand, and ready to turn on your own TV. With one bud lodge in your ear to listen to Namjoon the other is free to take in the cringeworthy dialogue. “My god why were you watching this?”

“Couldn’t sleep, and I thought this would also help put me in the Christmas spirit, but I can’t stop laughing at how bad it is.” Namjoon chuckles deeply as the heroine stumbles over a mere pebble and falls into the hero’s arm.

“I don’t think you have any right to laugh at that part.” You join him in laughter. “You two appear to have some similarities.”

“Wait, so does this make me the clumsy lead and you the dashingly perfect love interest?”

“Oh most definitely, I’ll be saving your Christmas.”

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”

You’re thankful that Namjoon isn’t there to see your response, silently choking on your glass of water, followed by spilling your sip all down your shirt, further emphasising your next point. “I’m not perfect.”

“Well you should let me see that side sometime, or I will continue to feel like this poor woman who is confronted with someone way out of their league.”

Namjoon thinks that you're out of his league? “No, I’m sorry but in order for me to save your Christmas based on this movie I have to play the perfect hero.” Of course the leading lady swoons in her prince's arms. “I just wish the characters had more depth, I’ve read kids books with a wider emotional range.”

“Me too. And the timing,” Namjoon scoffs. “It’s always so perfect. They always meet at the perfect moment and latch on immediately only to have everything work out in their favour, and it all claims to be a Christmas miracle, it doesn’t work like that.”

“That sounds like someone’s been scorned before on Christmas.”

“Not scorned no. More like a missed opportunity, one that I’ve regretted for a long while.”

“Anything I can help with?” You ask. “As the supporting lead that is my mission is it not?”

“Maybe, I’ll have to think about it. Unfortunately my dilemma isn’t so easy to solve.”

“I don’t think anyone's dilemma’s are ever as easy or clear cut as theirs.” You yawn as you lay down on the couch and watch the pitiful drama unfold. “Their world is perfect and always has their back through some sort of mystical power or being.”

“I think people in the real world call that god...” Namjoon chuckles.

“Yeah well, our god is a shitty writer if this is what their creations come to expect.” You murmur, stifling a yawn.

“Is that a crack in your shining armour I spy?”

“No, just commentary.” Though your own internal defences are askew, and the longer you watch the more you understand why. It’s jealousy, jealousy of how quickly they overcome any tragedy, and how they do so with a picture perfect life, as if the creators left all the negative emotions, the realistic impacts of trauma, on the cutting room floor. If only you were that perfect love interest that Namjoon wanted you to be... maybe you can keep the facade until the end of the holidays, at least one of you can have a better Christmas for it.

All you have to do is continue ignoring the most painful parts, a practice you are well versed in considering the boxes still looming in the shadowy corner, still unmoved after all this time. You know nothing good will come from unpacking them, there is no comfort inside, the only thing that could help is long gone, the story which your mother used to read to you every Christmas before you moved here. You’ve hunted through those boxes so many times while she was still here with you, but now that she’s gone you don’t even have the desire to look, nor the strength to store them away.

...

You wake hours later with a loud crumpling sound in your right ear. Your bud still in place, and your call time continues to count past the 7 hour mark. “Namjoon, are you there?” You inquire with a groggy yawn.

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?”

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry I did too. But unfortunately I seem to have lost an airpod at some point in the night.” The rustling continues as he chats to you. “I refuse to lose another to this couch, it’s taken so many from me already, you’ think I would have learned by now.”

“Oh, then this is a regular occurrence for you? Chatting up women until you fall asleep,” you scoff.

“No! God no, I just usually fall asleep listening to music and then my cushions eat them when I lower my defences.”

“I leave you to battle it out with your sofa, but what time should I pick you up?”

“Eleven okay with you?”

You double check the clock, ensuring you have enough time for a shower and to look presentable. “Yeah that works. I’ll see you then.”

...

You pull into the packed parking lot of a large warehouse. With Namjoon looking dapper in a blazer and peacoat. You yourself are glad to have chosen to dress a bit classier than your usual garb for a Saturday afternoon. When he said it was for work you couldn’t risk dressing down.

But there is still an air of confusion about your reason for being here. If he’s not attending to buy something for the museum or a client, why is his presence required? The items up for auction are not exactly what you expected, with the majority of it being furniture and woven rugs. You tilt your head in confusion as Namjoon eyes up an old wooden desk.

“Sorry,” He mutters, seeing you as he comes to from his distracted state. “I have a personal weakness for such items.”

“Don’t be, but is that why we're here?”

“No, although it is tempting.” He nods over to a collection of old black and white sketches on the wall across from you, graphite scenes of the city from long ago judging by subject matter and the yellowing of the paper behind the frame. “They’re the real reason we’re here. When I heard of this estate sale I knew that some of those works would likely come to market. I’m here to find out who buys them, and hopefully see if we can secure a possible loan for the museum in the future.”

“So how do you do it? How do you convince them to part with such pieces other than that dangerous smile of yours?”

Namjoon humours you, flashing his most coveted weapon. “Many of the artworks found at estate sales like this, they’ve fallen into disrepair. They often haven’t been cared for, likely kept in some musty room where the humidity damages them. The museum has a team of top rated and highly respected conservators who would be able to properly preserve it and slow any further deterioration, and in exchange for their services we ask for a short term loan of the art.

“A win-win.”

“I like to think so, but some people are rather protective of their investment. It can be a tricky negotiation which I have been on both sides of when I worked for the private sector.”

“Which do you prefer more?”

“Definitely the public. The museum doesn’t pay as much, but the audience and notoriety far greater. I really hope that I can continue my work with them once my initial contract ends.”

“I assume securing this for them will help in that goal?” You nod to the pieces, admiring the sought after collection.

“One can only hope. Who knows, maybe I’ll get my Christmas miracle like the movies promised.” He jokes, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you on.

While you and Namjoon continue to look around at the lots up for bidding, he proceeds to fawn over the wooden art and furniture, taking pictures and looking up the makers.

You can’t help but enjoy his interest, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth gasp when he’s found something which intrigues him. “Have you ever purchased something for yourself at one of these?”

“A few things, tables, chairs, and books too. It’s a great place to find unique pieces, or things lost to the past.” He gives you a shy smile. “Is there anything you’d like to look for?”

A possible item springs to the forefront of your mind. “Do they have any books here now?”

Namjoon grins at your request and leads you over to several crates filled to the brim with books. All the copies inside look to be older editions of epic novels, nothing like what you hope to find. Your heart sinks as you let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Can I help?”

“Nah, I think I’m out of luck. I was looking for a kid’s picture book. I briefly met someone at the wrapping station who found a copy second hand, must have been at a sale like this. I was hoping I would have the same success, but that seems like a bit of a far reach.” Had it not been their gift to someone else you would have made them an offer for it or even gotten their name at the very least, but you were so distracted at the time... all you can see and remember to this day was the book in front of you.

“I’m sorry-” Namjoon starts with an unnecessary apology, it wasn’t his fault that you lost the favourite book of your youth, that you missed the chance to give your mother one last glimpse of the pages with you before she passed.

“It’s fine,” You cut him off not wanting to dwell on the loss or risk deteriorating that perfect cover right here in front of him, in front of everyone, when he has something important to attend to. “Should we go find seats before they start the auction?”

Namjoon nods, seeming to examine your eyes with careful study, but he will find no tears, no dampness there, those are locked away tight. He escorts you to a seat near the back. “This way we can get a better view of those bidding without looking out of place.”

The auction lots pass by with many remaining silent. Namjoon points out several antique dealers to you that are snapping up many of the pieces. But the rest of the buyers all appear to be waiting for the same prize that Namjoon is.

“Do you have any favourites to win?” You whisper to him as the collection is carried into view.

“I’m hoping for anyone I’ve dealt with in the past.” Namjoon nods in the direction of a middle aged woman dressing in a fur trimmed coat and strands of pearls draped around her neck. “Mrs. Coleman already has a few works in one of the exhibits, and Mr. Roth over there.” He turns to a man wearing a tweed jacket and a sturdy wooden cane in hand. “Is one of the most notable patrons of the museum.”

Silence falls in the room as the auctioneer takes up the gavel again and describes the works. Many around you sit up a little straighter as Namjoon’s eyes dart around at those he thinks might attempt to purchase.

The bids flood in, with very few gaps for breath as the numbers are rattled off. It takes only two minutes before the going price is more than your annual salary. You lower yourself, pooling in your seat as the extravagant wealth is thrown around you.

Once the pace slows, Namjoon's face highlights his concern, his eyes glancing back and forth between two people, the older lady in mink he spoke of before, and an unknown man with a cell pressed to his ear.

As the wooden hammer drops so do the corners of Namjoon’s lips.

“And sold to the gentleman on the phone number three-two-eight, number three-two-eight for sixty-five thousand.” The auctioneer announces.

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

“Now we have an anonymous buyer who I have no ability to meet or advise.” He sighs, hanging his head, with his fingers dragging across his mouth again.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he nods next to you taking several deep breaths. Your hand reaches out to his arm and he turns to you with a small smile.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll figure something out, but I might as well make the most out of my time here.” With the auction now over he rises from his seat and approaches one of the museum's patrons with an outreached hand. “Mr. Roth, good to see you, you’ll be attending the final night of the exhibit I hope, and who is this with you...”

While Namjoon continues to make pleasantries and exchange business cards you keep your eye on the sketches watching as they are rolled behind the desk and packed away in crates. You approach the area where one of the clerks is recording and distributing the information for the now rightful owners, with a mob of bidders descending on him for their newly purchased items so they might leave as soon as possible.

It would seem that this business too is feeling the crunch of Christmas. A flurry of paperwork is exchanged in haste passing from one hand to the next, until one signed receipt of purchase escapes his notice and falls to the ground in front of you. Picking it up you wait for the crowd to clear, giving the clerk a chance to recover before you approach with the lost sheet, setting it on the desk before him. His confused gaze soon changes to outright shock over his loss when he realizes what you’ve returned.

He thanks you profusely, causing you wonder how much strife he would have encountered had you not been there to return it. “No problem, you look like you have a lot on your plate.” You smile politely, attempting to soothe your fellow casualty of the Christmas rush. “I just have a question for you though, if that’s okay?”

“Not at all how can I help?” He agrees, his stance far more relaxed than it was with the horde a few moments before.

“My friend, he was hoping to get in contact with the purchaser of those sketches there, on behalf of a museum. I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get a hold of them, is there?”

“I’m sorry but not at liberty to divulge that ma’am.” Your rising hope falls, you knew it would be a long shot but you didn’t want to leave without trying. “However... if there’s a phone number or information regarding the museum’s interest I can include that in the paperwork to send off along with the purchase.”

“Really? You would do that?”

When the clerk confirms, you immediately turn on your heel and take a step in Namjoon’s direction before bumping into his solid chest, not realizing that he had already come to find you.

“What are you doing-”

“Getting you that miracle.” You grab one of his business cards from his hand, and turn back around to give it to the clerk who tucks it into the envelope along with the other documentation. “Thank you.” You smile at the clerk who returns the gesture.

“And you said I have a dangerous smile?” Namjoon mutters as he leads you away with a chuckle. “What did he say exactly?”

“That he would include it with the paperwork for the sale. I just hope they will reach out and call you.”

“Me too.” Namjoon smiles, but it doesn't quite appear to reach his eyes. “Shall we head out. I think I’m done here.”

The drive home is rather quiet, the weight of Namjoon’s gloom hanging in the air and he makes no attempt to hide it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here,” he groans. “Those sketches were going to be the start of something new for me. I know the buyer might still come through but I’m not going to hold my breath. I need to keep searching for what comes next, I’m just a little lost, but I’ll find my path again soon.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes life will drop it right in front of me and other times I will have to search for it, but that’s a problem for after the holidays.” Namjoon looks out his window at the lights which start to come alive as you drive home. “Are you ready for the big day?”

“Christmas?” You give a nervous laugh, “No, I haven’t even put up any decorations.”

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm.

“Just haven’t really felt the need this year. There’s no one there to enjoy them but myself.”

“Which makes it all the more important to put them up.” Namjoon sits up in his seat, his whole persona changing. “I could help you if you’d like?”

You wince over the quandary. With your decorations sitting in your living room under an inch of dust it might arouse some confusion, and his heart would likely sink if he knew how long they actually rested there for. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it yet. Maybe another time?”

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Work continues to degrade as the countdown progresses. The only thing getting you through the shifts is the thought of Namjoon’s help at the stand. But as soon as Christmas is over, you wonder if your friendship will go the same way as the festive season, cast aside like the wrapping of the gifts you tended to in the weeks prior.

After a few days of busy shifts you’re both thankful to make it to another close. But when you are packing up the station Namjoon’s phone starts to ring. He looks down in confusion at the number without a contact attached. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all.”

He grins as he answers the phone pacing further back into the vacant shop space and away from the sounds of the echoing mall. You continue to count off the deposit, and roll the wrapping paper. Trying your best not to listen, to give Namjoon his privacy, however you can’t help but notice the happiness in his tone, spotting his dimples from across the room when you sneak a glance. When you grab to move the last box of bows Namjoon ends his call. Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes accompanied by the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“That was- that was the buyer.” He explains as he comes to help you with the final box, taking it from your hands and placing it on the back shelf. “He wants to meet with me this weekend.”

He’s so close, vibrating with an overwhelming delight. His arms move around you as though he is about to pull you in for a gracious hug. You start to congratulate him as he embraces you, “Really?! That’s gre-” only to be cut off when his lips come for yours instead. Once the shock evaporates, you start to appreciate the heat of the moment, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his mouth. Your hands reach up to his toned shoulders and neck pulling him down, diminishing the space between you. Breathing him in like this with your eyes closed, nothing else matters in the moment, nothing other than his firm chest pushing back against yours, his hands on your waist gripping at your shirt.

With a deep sigh and a bite to his own lip he pulls back. “Sorry I just-”

“Don’t, don’t apologize.” You cut him off this time.

“I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“I hardly did anything.” You laugh at the extremeness of his appreciation, though a small part of you dies when you realize his kiss was nothing more than a gesture of gratitude.

“That’s not true...” He responds, giving you his wide eyes and a shy smile.

On the drive home your companion can barely contain his delight, breaking into random smiles and laughter as he informs his coworkers of the success via text.

“There’s this event...” Namjoon starts, as you pull in front of his home. “At the museum on the twenty-third, a week from today, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

“Next Wednesday? But we have a shift at the wrapping station.”

“I spoke to Emma a few days ago and she agreed to cover if we both wanted to go.”

“Emma, making a change so close to Christmas? I don’t buy it. What did you offer her in return?” You ask with a critical gaze. The woman runs such a tight schedule, only something great or important would have prompted her to agree.

“My next year of service.” Namjoon confesses, he looks down at his feet as though he might buckle from the embarrassment.

“Next year? You already promised to work it?”

“If you want me there that is. I’ll practice more in the meantime, I promise I won’t leave you to all of the difficult packages.” Namjoon chuckles. “But what do you say, will you go with me?”

“Ye-yeah I would love it’s just...” You stutter trying to come up with a good excuse but your brain draws a blank leaving only the truth. “I don’t know how well... how well I’ll fit in there.”

“What? No, why would you think that?” Namjoon places his hand on your leg while you drive. A move which causes the both of you to pause in reaction and him to retreat. “Trust me when I say you belong there more than anyone else.”

You nod your head and give him a small smile, wishing more than anything his hand would return. “I’ll come if you want me there. What’s the attire?”

“Semi-formal, and don’t worry about driving I’ll pick you up.”

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

You stand in front of your mirror, wearing a dress which fits your shape perfectly, but stretches your pocket book significantly. The price tags hanging down from the zipper taunt you, tempting you to rip them away, to commit to the indulgence. Even if it’s only for a night, the payoff in the end might be worth the overpriced lace. You give in with a snip of the scissors and a swallow of guilt, letting the printed cardstock hit your bedroom floor.

You’ve spent the past couple of hours leading up to this moment in a fit of stress cleaning, disposing of the dust bunnies. Now at least if Namjoon comes over after... you won’t be completely off guard.

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

Sliding your shoes on and grabbing what you need, you leave your empty apartment with a growing smile on your face. The moment you can see the car from the buildings foyer both Namjoon and the driver exit the vehicle, though Namjoon is quick to wave the driver back to his seat, choosing instead to hold the door for you himself.

The thoughtful gesture is made more appealing as if it gives you a full view of your date in his dark three piece suit, his hair tamed back framing his handsome face, whose gaze appears to be giving you the once over for you too.

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

“Of course, I couldn’t embarrass you now could I? Have to land that first impression.”

“You would never. Besides I’m sure my colleagues will be fascinated to know who has enough courage to teach me how to wrap.”

“And how do you plan on introducing me to those colleagues of yours? As your date or your teacher?” You laugh.

“I was actually hoping I could introduce you as my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend for tonight?” You panic, not expecting this development. “Wait, is this one of those fake dating scenarios? Did you tell them you had one and then-”

“I think we’ve been watching too much Hallmark.” Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No this is not one of those scenarios, but I’ll take whatever form of companionship you are the most comfortable with.”

He gives you the stare of a man who is looking for more, but you know he won't need you once the holidays pass. His loneliness is temporary, yours is permanent. You’d rather not get your hopes up only to have them lost as he fades away in the cold gloom of January when his family returns. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Upon arrival Namjoon leads you through the massive doors by hand, taking your coat and checking it. The main hall just off the entrance is filled with patrons and staff all mingling and drinking while dining on tiny hors d’oeuvres. You look at the crowd with apprehension.

Namjoon’s fingers interlace with yours again, a grip clearly intended to give you confidence. “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff first.”

Several people congratulate Namjoon on the exhibit as he passes, he responds giving them a brief thank you as he ushers you through the crowd. Stopping at a small group of two, who greet Namjoon with a warm welcome.

“Thank god you’re here, people have kept asking for the brains behind the exhibit.”

“And why didn’t you answer them.” Namjoon smiles before turning to introduce you to them, following up with the man who just spoke. “This is Eric Nam, a curator who I worked on the project with.”

“Don’t pass the torch, we both know it was your idea, I just helped put it into motion.” His coworker smiles gazing at you. “And you must be the one Namjoon has talked so much about.”

The heat rises to your face as you look to Namjoon who confirms the statement with his own embarrassment. “Thank you Eric for sharing that with her...”

“No problem, it’s the least I could do for someone who gave you the insp-”

Namjoon coughs and shakes his head, cutting off his verbose friend.

You're about to question your partner himself when the other colleague of his starts asking you questions. “What do you do for a living Ms....” You remind her of your name while Namjoon spotting refreshments wanders off with a whispered promise to get you both a drink.

“I-I work for Interlude Shipping, in their tracking department.” You explain clasping your hands together in an attempt to settle your nerves.

“Oh, how nice...” The false quaintness in her tone is matched with a smirk as she takes a sip of wine. “Maybe you can help me find out if my sister’s present will arrive in time tomorrow.”

“Valerie...” Eric growls.

“What? I’m merely curious about her employment.” She smirks at him before continuing to her inquisition. “How long have you worked there? Did you have to get a degree for your role?”

“No,” This is exactly what you were afraid of coming here, you just didn’t think the judgement would be coming from someone who works with Namjoon. “I started there right after high school. I didn’t have the luxury to go to an elite school to work in a place like this.”

Eric comes over and claps you on the back. “Neither did Valerie; she just has family on the board.” Giving a coy smile to his coworker who scowls and stalks off without another word to you. “In fact you’ve actually done more work here than her in the past month. I hear you’ve been helping Namjoon secure the collection we’ve been after?”

You nod looking off after the departed curator, worried as to what impact your interaction could have with Namjoon’s position here.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just bitter that Namjoon didn’t ask her to accompany him here.”

“Oh, does she- do they-”

“Fuck no, but if she’s not everyone’s first choice she’s not happy.” Eric gets in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry about Namjoon looking elsewhere, if he’s at all hesitant it’s just because he’s a little cautious with you.”

“Why would he be cautious?”

“Why would who be cautious?” Namjoon asks, handing you a drink as he appears by your side again.

“Mr. Roth, that man should be careful. I heard he had hip surgery recently.” Eric responds, cutting in with a lie to cover your discussion. “It's good of him to still join us tonight, but enough about that, why don’t you go show her the exhibit before it gets too crowded in there?”

Namjoon offers up his arm in agreement. “I suppose we can get started on the tour, if you’d like.”

“Yes please,” You answer, threading your arm through his. “Thanks again Eric, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

The stand next to the entrance bears all the names of those involved in the creation and a countless list of those who loaned out pieces to make it possible. “There’s so many involved, how large is this exhibit?”

“Not too big, you’ll see why there’s such a long list soon.”

When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.

“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”

“Find any new prodigies?”

“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia.

“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon.

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.

You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”

“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”

You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size.

The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”

Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.

Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”

You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’

You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”

When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer.

Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”

Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”

“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.

You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid.

Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.”

“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to.

“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”

“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms.

“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.

“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”

“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.

“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”

You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”

“Not without you.”

“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.

“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”

“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”

“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”

“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”

“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”

“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”

“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”

“How-How do you know about that?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”

“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.

“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”

You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”

Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”

“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”

“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”

You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall.

Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays.

...

-Christmas Eve-

It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning.

The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.

You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver.

Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along.

Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised.

You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk.

The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.

Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.

“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.”

“It’s the holiday sea-”

“I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!”

“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”

“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”

With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.

You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer.

...

You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.

Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover.

He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.

Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.

“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.

“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.

“I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”

“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”

“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.”

“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”

“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”

“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.

“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.”

“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”

Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him.

“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”

“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...”

“What about all the supplies?”

“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”

“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.

Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive.

“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.

“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”

“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”

You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”

You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.”

“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”

...

-One Year Ago-

You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first.

Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left.

“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”

You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”

“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”

“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.

“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.”

“But we have plenty.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.

“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”

You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.

“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.

“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned.

“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”

“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”

“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow.

You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party.

“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”

“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.”

“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.”

You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift.

“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time.

“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?”

“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”

“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person.

Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”

...

While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.

You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”

You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.

“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”

“Then the museum exhibit-”

“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.”

“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.”

“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”

You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.”

You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”

“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

...

Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look.

“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait.

“Did you make these?”

“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds.

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not.

You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.

“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”

“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”

Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you.

“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear.

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”

“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”

“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”

Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”

Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in.

Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground.

Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air.

“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.

He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”

You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth.

With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”

You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile.

But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.”

“I want that too. I want you.”

He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.

“I do, but I also want to last.”

“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.

“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft.

You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch.

With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes.

Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.

“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.

“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”

#bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #bts x reader #rm #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts christmas au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts wrapped together

898 notes · View notes

soobadnoonecanstopher · 4 years ago

Text

Touch it for Real, Part 3

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / enemies to lovers / bug gets meta

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Mia.

Mia, Mia, Mia.

Oh she was lovely. You’d been chatting with her on Baekhyun’s phone for the better part of an hour and for a moment you forgot all about the man who now laid with his head on the other end of the sofa with his feet stretched over your lap and a phone held up to his face.

He was scrolling through something, giggling and typing.

The phone you had down in your lap vibrated with another incoming message.

Laughing emojis, a row of them. She was sharp. Wit and charm came through in her messages and you found yourself responding with an equally long string of laughing faces. The ones with tears leaking out their eyes. She felt so damn familiar and comfortable the moment you got past the awkward introductions and you really started talking to her; the jokes were easy and the topics were something you knew enough about to fake your way though thanks to Baekhyun’s many passions and his absolute inability to shut up about them. He’d held you hostage with so many video games and anime episodes, you knew exactly what she was talking about now. You felt like a complete pseudo pro. A well-read scammer. A faker but a weirdly genuine one.

You went back to her profile and dragged each of her pictures across the screen with the tip of your finger, switching between them all. She was pretty. She was smart. She was interesting to talk to. She was perfect. Just perfect. A steady warmth had seeped into your chest as you looked at her. It was welcome and actually felt nice at first; if not a little bit unexpected. But the longer you looked at her smile, the more intrusive that warmth felt. After too long, it was sticky and almost too warm. You struggled to breathe deeply. You were breathing normally, there was absolute nothing off about your breathing, but each breath you took suddenly failed to satiate. Why were your lungs suddenly missing oxygen? They were misbehaving without any reason to. You closed out her pictures and returned to the chat window.

She was asking about the latest episode of an anime. Something that was in its final season. Something you were sure Baekhyun would also be watching soon if he hadn’t seen it already. You could feel her excitement in her words. Something epic must have happened.

“Baek did you watch Attack on Colossatron last night — the latest episode?”

“Not yet—no spoilers, I’ll kill you.” His response was quick and you responded in a similar fashion in text to Mia; without the death threats. You weren’t quite that comfortable with her yet.

Baekhyun shifted and moved a foot behind you, digging it under your butt into the gap of the couch cushion. You ignored the intrusion because you were talking to Mia. His soon to be brand new girlfriend by the looks of the conversation. You caught what you were certain was subtle flirting just below the contexts. Then outright flirting. She was sending you a picture from the dating profile you’d set up for Baekhyun. She had to have saved the picture to send it. It would now be saved on the camera roll of her phone where she would likely look at it again and again, admiring how good Baekhyun looked in it.

She was commenting on how unexpectedly handsome you were and how most of the men who shared interests with her did not look like you.

She was asking for a picture of you—err, of Baekhyun. She was having trouble believing such an attractive man like you was real and she actually used the word catfishing, careful to insist that she wasn't accusing you of anything; just that she was sure you looked just like some celebrity she saw on twitter and one couldn’t be too careful.

But you were quick to cooperate and to agree with her need for assuredness. As a woman, yourself, you understood her suspicions instantly. Yes, Baekhyun did look shockingly attractive in the profile pictures you posted of him. You could see how someone might doubt that he was real and he lived only 5 miles away and was now sweeping her off her feet with his engaging conversations and hilarious jokes. You’d be sure and make him thank you well for this later.

The pictures of him were surprising, even to you, and you lived with the guy. You saw him every single day. Yet something about seeing him in these pictures, dressed in that black button up shirt and jeans and looking at the camera with a breathtaking natural smile; one he gave you so easily that night when you told him just how good he looked all dressed up.

“Peanut, look at you! You look so fancy.”

“Wow, I cant believe how handsome you are.”

It only took a couple of sincere compliments for the man to unfold before you and the results on camera pulled you into an uncomfortable and unwelcome thoughtfulness when you looked at them alone later. Of course you knew he was handsome. You just hadn’t been prepared for how very attractive he would look on camera.

You got all his best angles and the man had taken you off guard when you’d bravely asked him to give you a sexy look.

It happened just at the end of your little makeshift photo-shoot. You were both a little tired, you could tell with the way he slowed down with his talking and his movements. You could always tell when Baekhyun was tired. Sometimes before even he knew it.

The sun had gone down and you’d pulled him from your room into the living room where the lights from the city shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, creating a soft glow on his face. The moon was full outside. It was a chilly winter night and snowflakes drifted down to the street below. You were feeling perhaps a bit romantic. Perhaps you were a little bit grateful to be inside and warm and spending your time capturing the pretty face of your annoying best friend.

You’d gotten a bit bold with the pictures and he’d been behaving so well, not even complaining when you asked him to lay down on the floor so you could capture the beautiful city-scape in the background of the shot. He’d gone still while you set up; moving furniture and turning on a lamp in the corner for more lighting on his features — you wondered briefly if maybe he had fallen asleep.

You laid down beside him holding your camera up in the right spot to get something nice. His eyes had closed up and his breathing was even and slow and when you’d softly called his name with your camera acting as a barrier in between your faces, you’d expected it to act as more of a buffer than it did.

“Baekhyun?”

When he heard you call him, his eyes opened and he turned his head toward the sound of your voice; the shift in his eyes was stark and breathtaking and he blinked them closed and then very slowly he opened his eyes again for you.

“Hmm?” His lips stayed closed when he hummed a response.

What exactly were you going for here? The mood was set. The lighting and the scenery were in place. Hell, even the position of him was set —him laying beside you on the floor in the middle of the night like this when everyone knew it was much too late to be entertaining any of this nonsense. The longer you looked at him the more shades of pink you saw in his cheeks. The pinkness matched his lips and the lighting made every bit of warm flush on his face tell such a romantic story. He looked so very warm and inviting.

You took a shot and you said it. If the picture came out well, that would be rewarding enough.

But, you didn't actually expect a real sexy look. Not really. You’d expected something silly, or something goofy or something with an awkward smile. Maybe it was the nighttime, or the way he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and just let it hang open with the clear smoothness of his chest visible, but when he pulled his chin down and ran a hand through his styled hair, bringing it down just a little bit; giving it a messy and tousled look, you had to grip the camera tighter to keep from doing something dumb like accidentally dropping it. You could not understand the flash of nervousness you felt run through you.

He lifted a single eyebrow. You had called him and it was clear from the inactivity in the camera that you weren’t taking any pictures of him.

“Hmm?” He repeated the hum that came from the back of his throat. His eyebrow danced and it was the only movement on his face.

You inhaled a breath and you did it.

“You look incredibly sexy right now.”

Despite the camera, despite the props you’d placed around him just so, his eyes seemed to seek out yours with purpose; one hand on the floor was within touching distance and the other hand rested over his forehead from when he’d ran it through his hair, the tips of his fingers landed over one of his eyes and it was so perfect. You felt goosebumps all over your skin.

The moment his eyes locked into yours you gripped the camera as if your life depended on it. When his lips slowly parted with a gentle exhale and the tip of his tongue appeared between his parted lips and slowly touched against the corner of his bottom lip a surge of heat rose up the back of your throat.

“I do?” He said with his eyes on yours as if he was looking directly at you; as if the camera did not even exist.

You hit the button and you heard the shutter click.

You allowed yourself a moment to look at the picture Mia had sent you. Only a moment though because she was talking again. She was instructing you to send a new picture right now, with your left hand holding your right earlobe. It was the kind of specific sort of picture that would prove that you really did exist.

“Peanut,” you reached down and tapped his leg three times quickly, “Peanut, our new girlfriend wants a picture of you right now with your,” you held up your hands in front of your face, figuring out which was the left one, “left hand holding your right earlobe.” You held up your left hand for him to see and he pulled the phone down from his face to look at you. After a second his opposite hand was raised and he gripped his earlobe with his fingertips.

“Is that your left hand?” You raised your left hand higher and lifted your eyebrows as you shook your head once. You felt a sense of urgency in getting this picture to Mia as fast as possible to calm her doubts.

“It’s my left. My left is your right, stupid. Why do I have to do this?”

You snapped the picture close enough that it would look like a selfie and sent the image to Mia. She was satisfied enough to send an emoji with heart eyes and you could feel victory at your fingertips. You could hardly believe this was working.

“She thought you weren’t real.” You said in between messages and Baekhyun’s leg was shaking behind your back. He’d been sitting still for too long here and the nervous energy was building, you could feel it trying to escape from his limbs. He probably needed to go for a run or something or you were in for a long and noisy night of singing or dancing or whatever other shenanigans he thought you needed to suffer though. He hummed a non-response to your answer, clearly so distracted by what was happening on his screen that he couldn’t be bothered to give you any more of his attention right now.

Baekhyun was not so quietly giggling under his breath and you looked up caught by that very particular sound of it. Something felt familiar in the sound of that giggle; more, the intentions behind it. The particular sneakiness of it maybe made you look up and it took you another second of listening to the way he stifled himself, tried to control the sounds of his laughter before a realization dawned and recognition struck you on the head.

Baekhyun couldn’t have been giggling, laughing, texting, having a grand ol’ time on his phone because you had his phone in your hands. You had been talking to Mia for a whole damn hour, who in the hell was Baekhyun talking to and was that your phone he was using?

“Baekhyun who are you talking to on my phone?”

His stomach bounced with stifled laugher below his shirt and he was typing again. His eyes secured on the screen of your phone and not at all looking at you.

“Baek, who is that. What are you doing?” It wasn’t that you didn't trust him with your private conversations. He knew more about you than probably any other human being on the planet. It wasn't the problem with him knowing it. The problem was with that laughter. The problem was with what Byun Baekhyun might do with all of the things he knew about you and with whoever the hell had the misfortune of texting you at the exact moment when he had your phone.

“Ben,” Baekhyun said after a long pause and you searched through your recent memory for a person who had that name. You’d matched with some guys last week but you were certain there was no one with that name.

“Ben? Who the hell is Ben? I don't know a Ben” You were leaning now and Baekhyun bent his legs up as soon as you moved, blocking your lean with his knobby knees. You leaned on the other side of them and he moved them to block again.

The maneuver brought out the panic in you. He was blocking you from your own phone. He was up to something and he was now blocking you from reaching for your phone and you had just nearly murdered him in the kitchen over cheese, did he really want to do this again?

“Give me my phone. Baek, who the shit is Ben?”

“I don't know. Some guy named Ben. Said he was some lady’s nephew or cousin or something. He knew your number and he knew your name, and wow he is—”

Oh god. Your co-worker Susie had done it. The son-of-a-bitch had actually given your phone number out this time even though you had successfully, you’d thought, dodged their high pressure tactics to set you up with some eligible bachelor who would probably be 10 years too old for you, balding, with bad teeth, or bad habits, or would be obsessed with his car or his muscles or some sports team and you’d have to make nice small talk with someone who’s interests, frankly, bored you to death until you could politely let the man down.

And now, what was Baekhyun telling him? What kinds of horrific lies was this little gremlin giggling about over there. You tilted and reached for him again and he moved his knees again.

“Bug, how- how do you spell hemorrhoids? Hem—hem—er—roids, no that’s not right. Let me look it up. It’s important that I represent you well. A strong, intelligent woman who can talk about her hemorrhoids.”

You leaped then, over the stupid knees you flew and you landed hard — seated across his belly and the pained grunt he let out was satisfying to hear. He doubled up in pain while simultaneously shoving your phone underneath himself into the softness of the couch cushions and you watched it disappear somewhere below his butt where he assumed you would not dare to reach.

“Baekhyun,” you said in as calm a voice as you could pry from your lips. Your teeth gritted together as you spoke and much of the sweetness was lost in the delivery.

Your hands were feeling the softness of the cushions that he laid on. You followed an arm that went down and disappeared behind his back and your fingers traveled to the end where you felt no phone at all, only his empty hand that you pulled up. You did the same on the other side, moving to the other hand and bringing it back empty too. On his face he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile.

“Peanut,” your next attempt at a compromise pulled his name out in a sweeter tone and his lips turned up into a mischievous grin with teeth bared and all. To your own ears though, you really laid it on thick. This was your darling Peanut. You let your whine come through and you pulled your lips into a pouty frown.

“Bug,” he said, mimicking your overly saccharine tone with a tiny lift of an eyebrow on his face and a fake frown that didn’t touch the rabid joy in his eyes.

“Give me back my phone,” you said and your hands dug into his ribs hard as he reached for your wrists and quickly grabbed to hold you still with both of his free hands before you could do any actual damage to him.

You struggled against his strong hands, reaching with out-stretched fingers despite his hold on you for a few more tickles before he tightened the grip and you could not connect any more attacks.

“Give me back my phone,” he giggled back, again mocking your ineffective attempts to overpower him. You simply couldn’t do it. He was much stronger than you were.

The childishness of this brat! You closed your eyes up tight as you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath. You could feel close to the edge again. Close to losing control. How many murder attempts did you need to commit today? Maybe you needed to enroll in anger management classes. You tried to count to ten again but gave up halfway through to threaten him again.

“I’m going to get mad, give me my phone.” The friendly tone you had forced was gone and you could hear the actual anger in your voice now. Any reasonable person would concede. Any normal human adult would laugh it off playfully, say ‘okay, okay, I was only kidding’ and hand the thing over. A normal person would even apologize for taking it in the first place.

Baekhyun was not a normal person.

“Ohhh, I’m going to get mad,” you heard him say in that same mocking voice and no amount of calming breaths could touch it. You could count to ten thousand and still want to destroy him. You squirmed all over and pulled at your wrists that he held in his grip and his hold tightened the more you moved until you could only lean, you could only fight back with one thing. The more you fought him, the tighter his muscles constricted and it became evident that you simply could not win this way. Your hands were useless to you. Only your head was free. You’d have to use it to your advantage, but how?

You could headbutt him; break his nose. Break your head. Make both of you take a trip to the hospital during a global pandemic. Catch the dreaded disease. Lose your sense of taste and smell and potentially infect someone vulnerable that you loved.

He was like a cat. Only interested in playing with something until it was dead and then losing interest after he couldn’t torture it anymore. You couldn't simply play dead. He had you trapped and you needed that phone back.

You could bite him. Break the skin. Mean business for real. Make him bleed and make him cry. Make him pay for all of it. Give him a nasty scar on his hand, or on his neck or on his chest, maybe rip off his earlobe like Tyson did to Holyfield. Send him to the hospital during a global pandemic. Go to prison for assault charges. Get a nasty infection from a prison tattoo. Die.

Your struggle for a plan made you go physically still and you looked at his face; into his eyes and in those eyes sat all the usual bullshit and toddler behavior that you usually saw when he had latched on to something to tease you with, something he could play with and have fun with at your expense. Something he could exploit.

You could use your mouth.

You could use your lips.

You could use your tongue.

What is this? Some sort of trashy rom-com? Would you really stoop so low, so early in the story? Kiss him to distract him, become a walking, talking, kissing cliché and an unoriginal failure of a human being? Get scolded and told to leave his home. Become homeless during a global pandemic. Without high speed internet access, lose your easy breezy data entry job. Get hungry and get cold. Possibly end up selling a kidney on the black market to make ends meet. Get a nasty infection from the shady surgery. Die.

No. This wasn’t a cheesy romance story. This was your life. You’d have to live with the consequences of your choices and there was no way you would steal his first kiss just to get petty revenge.

This wasn’t enemies-to-lovers, this a violent revenge plot and you were pissed off god-dammit. How dare this idiot get you into such a compromising, such an undignified, such a frustratingly suggestive position and hold you captive like this.

How dare he still be smiling through your entire inner monologue?

Didn't he know anything at all about women and the powers they possessed in their bodies?

He flinched visibly when you dropped down; lowered your chest to his chest and you were face to face with the man. Your quick movement startled him and he loosened the grip around your wrists enough for you to rotate them before he tightened his hold again and watched you with wide eyes. That grin finally, finally fell from his mouth. His lips sat down-turned and pink. He’d gone positively pink with your quick movement. Your plan to move into him instead of struggling to get away clearly startled him. You felt the advantage at once.

When you moved again it was only your eyeballs and it was to look pointedly at his lips before you pulled your eyes back up to look into his eyes. The slow movement made a bold statement, even to someone as clueless as he was. You were on top of him. He could most definitely feel the entirety of your weight on his body and your breasts were flush against his chest. And now, you had just looked down at his pink lips.

Whatever steady and in-control breathing he had, stuttered and his body below yours went rigid with his eyes wide; obviously unsure of what you were about to do and much too on edge to take his eyes off of you.

What became clear as you stared at his flushed face up close was that he had not thought this far ahead in his plan.

He probably didn't even have one to begin with.

You moved closer to him and his hands released their hold on you again. You heard a gasp for air when his hand let go. You weren’t convinced he let go on purpose. There seemed to be a disconnected look inside his eyes right now.

Instead of going straight for his earlobe and squeezing the shit out of it to teach him a lesson, you kept this going. You could not help it. You felt drunk on your own power and you didn't actually want to hurt him. You just wanted the damn phone so you could see what damage he had already done and begin cleaning up the messes.

He swallowed and his lips opened to speak.

“W-What are you doing?”

Nervous and trembling and uncertain; oh he was all of the above. Your free hand was moving now, traveling down the length of his arm to his flank when he moved again, this move felt much more frantic than the last. He grabbed your wrist more gently than before when you got close enough to touch him and he pulled your hand back. A feeble attempt it seemed, made by a man who had just come to his senses again after being in a daze.

You leaned in. “Peanut,” you said directly into the space below his ear. You could smell him here. He smelled nice. Clean, and vaguely familiar. You remembered your shampoo that he still had and made a mental note to get it back from him. The scent of it on him was different than on you. The breath you took at his neck definitely smelled different.

He was frozen stiff and when you pulled up to look at his face, his eyes were closed. He swallowed again and you reveled in the realization that you had not heard a single peep out of him since you began your counter-attack. Not a giggle, not a mocking laugh. Not a silly impression of what your voice sounded like to him. He was as quiet as a mouse. It paid to be pro-active. You felt free, as if you’d just been armed with some new very effective weapon that you had no idea would work so well.

He had your hand again and was pulling — keeping you from reaching below his body to reach where you were certain your phone was stashed. Right here below his left butt cheek. Maybe even inside his back pocket. Either way it was there and you were centimeters away from it.

So you went in again. This time it was a whisper. This time you went too far. You felt the softness of his neck brush against your bottom lip.

“Give it to me, while I am still being nice.”

It was the exhale from your lips after you spoke that seemed to do it. The puff of air from your parted lips that drifted over his ear and warmed his neck, you felt him squirm below you and his hands moved releasing you all over and all at once.

He was going now. He was leaving. You felt it happening below you.

It was a tactic you’d used before when he tried to grab a hold of you and throw you onto your bed, or when he tried to wrestle something away from you in the kitchen.

He went boneless. When you did it he would shout and laugh and lose his grip on you and you’d use the distraction to drop to the floor and roll out of his grip in one motion. It was much more difficult for him to do right now, being directly under you on the couch like this, but somehow he was vanishing fast.

He moved so quickly it was like he melted from beneath you and he was pushing you off at the same time as he rolled, simply rolled from the sofa down onto the floor below in a single motion of retreat.

You know that was where he went because you heard the rough thump of his body hitting the floor hard and you heard the grunt as he vocalized the pain of gravity having it’s final say. You were pushed with a force that made you roll onto your butt and below your legs you felt the rectangle of plastic and glass of your cell phone.

He was moving fast. But he was also talking as he did it.

“You are mean,” was what he said and he was halfway through the living room by the time you registered his complaint.

Something about his fit irked you though. Was it such a big deal — so out of the question? Did he hate the idea of you kissing him, even if on accident that he had to overreact like this.

“Oh settle down, It’s not like I was going to actually kiss you, Baekhyun.”

You’d expected to hear his bedroom door slam shut but he’d stopped with his hand on his door and turned his face in your direction. His expression was odd.

Baekhyun was rarely upset with you, so you had very little experience with what he looked like when he was. He had been upset with others around you, but it wasn’t ever directed at you.

“I know you weren’t.”

You could see it from where you sat and it made you stand up. Wait, was he really upset? At you? Because you pretended like you were going to steal his first kiss? Because you took something so precious to him and weaponized it against him?

He was breathing hard and you took a step in his direction.

“Baek, I was just—”

“—trying to get your phone, I know.” His voice was cold and his words were short.

You suddenly felt like absolute shit. It moved fast and it overwhelmed you. You’d made a mistake and Baekhyun was upset at you. You’d acted carelessly and thoughtlessly and you’d hurt him.

“We...we were playing around, I was just playing around, I didn’t mean it, Peanut. I’m sorry.” You could not help the thickness in your voice. You could not help how your voice cracked as you spoke up quickly, needing to get the apology out into the air before he could misunderstand any further.

Before he could wake up and realize how low of a person you could be when you really set your mind to it. Before he could understand that maybe you didn't deserve so many chances to get your life together and get a better job, or be a better roommate, or make more money and pay more rent, or delete your facebook, or create better passwords.

You realized you were crying when the wetness dripped down your chin and landed on your arm and as soon as you noticed you lifted both of your hands up to cover your face — before he saw, before he noticed or heard. You held your breath to keep from hiccupping or making any sort of sound at all and you closed your eyes and tried to stop the quiet gasps.

You succeeded for the most part.

It was the smell of him though. You did not notice that he moved, but you smelled him again, only this time it came with a warmth that enveloped you where you stood.

“I’m not mad at you,” he whispered over your head and you inhaled through the snot that filled your nose, unable to get any air through. You gasped through your mouth instead and hiccupped through the breath.

“You seemed mad at me,” you said into his shirt, the same shirt you’d cried into hours ago. This shirt would have so much of your messes on it by the end of the day. What in the world had gotten into you today? Maybe you were going to start your period soon. This was getting ridiculous.

His hands rubbed slow and steady circles over your back and until the gasping stopped enough for you to lift your head and look into his face.

“I’m not,” he said with more conviction the second time and you almost believed it. Had it not been for the strange way his eyes dropped yours so easily you would have.

You didn't say that though.

His lips parted once and his eyes grasped yours in that flimsy way again and his lips closed up again as he swallowed it away and didn’t say what he was about to say.

You shook your head. He had to tell you. Whatever it was, you could work on it, do some self reflecting, or read some self help books.

“What is it? Tell me.” Your insistence was desperate and his damn eyes refused to stick. It was making you crazy the more you noticed it.

His mouth opened again and this time he inhaled deep enough to speak for hours and hours.

“Peanut, what?”

“Don't—” he began and you closed your mouth and looked into his face, dipping to catch them when his eyes dropped again and again. He noticed the dance you did and you saw the light dance inside his eyes.

“Don't what? I’ll do it. Or I won’t do it. Whatever, just tell me.” If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking to this man. You could always pull it out. Whatever he had been sitting on, keeping from you, whatever he had deep down inside that was begging to be let out. You could talk to him. He could talk to you. It’s as part of the magic you shared with him.

“Peanut,” you said again, refusing to let him close up again, refusing to let this go. He had to say his piece for the upset to move behind you both, so you could get past it.

“Don't use your beauty as a weapon against me.”

As soon as the words left so did his eyes, but that did not matter because you could not look into his face anymore after he said it either.

Your…beauty?

Baekhyun didn’t look at you and see beauty. Impossible. You were a mess. Some days you showered. Some days you did your hair. These two events rarely happened on the same day.

Outside you could pull off some-what put-together and even downright attractive when you wore the miracle bust enhancing bra you bought off some shady website he definitely told you not to enter any credit card info into, but inside you felt like a circus clown wearing a respectable young woman suit. Every day you worked to stuff the oversized shoes into your feet and struggled to zip them up. Every day you painted over your honking red nose with concealer in the hopes that it wouldn’t rain today and give you away.

“It’s really shitty and really unfair to do to me.” He kept talking and you felt like maybe the ceiling had caved in on you. “I know who I am. I know my place and I know what league I am in.”

He said the word league with a whisper and you stared at his mouth as he spoke such nonsense words you hardly had any thoughts that made any sense inside of your own head.

League? He was such an amazing person, but league? You’d heard some serious bullshit come out of his mouth in the past, but this? Seriously?

He was a genius. He was beautiful inside and out and he was such a good person, a good person to you, a good person to his grandmother, a good person to his online friends. He was so good at whatever he wanted to do and he was really fucking sweet when he wasn’t being ridiculous. And even when he was being ridiculous it was so funny you usually didn't mind the ear deafening noise involved. He was a great dancer and an even better singer and he had so much to offer.

He was shy. He was terribly embarrassed and debilitatingly nervous at the mere idea of talking to any other girl that wasn’t you and he took a whole lot of warming up to until he opened up to you even, but when he finally did, after tiptoeing around him for 4 months after you’d moved in and he finally grabbed a bowl of popcorn and sat beside you on the couch to watch lifetime movies with you, making fun of the writing and the acting the entire time until he was making fun of you for crying at the happy ending.

He was reliable too. He refused to even entertain the idea of you moving out just because you could no longer afford the previously agreed upon rent after you lost your job. He searched for something to hold you over until you could get back on your feet and while the data entry thing was mind numbing, it was genuinely saving your life most days. You could at least pay your bills. You could at least force him to accept the much lower rent you started paying him again after you got your first paycheck.

Oh god. League?

You could feel it building again. The burning in your eyes peaked and you felt your face frowning down dramatically and the tears were flowing more freely than before.

“You’re such an idiot.” You cried openly and his face changed at once into one of extreme concern. His hands waved over you uselessly, occasionally connecting to pat over your back in some attempt to stop this.

“You are such a catch, you stupid idiot!” You were wailing very loudly. You could not help it. He was such an idiot. And he was such a catch.

“Oh my god, are you yelling at me right now? After everything you’ve done to me today, now you are yelling at me and calling me names. Great. Just Great. Here, my face doesn’t hurt, why don't you punch me in the face too.”

The sarcasm made you half laugh half choke in the middle of a particularly strong sob and you coughed with your mouth open to be able to breathe. Your nose was still useless.

“Jesus,” he said to himself, “my mouth was open.”

You were being steered. Your eyes were still closed and you were pushed now. You didn't really want to move but your stubborn legs saved you by taking a step instead of letting you fall flat on your face. You opened your eyes when you felt a fresh cold breeze against the wet surface of your cheeks and you saw in front of you the contents of the freezer.

There were some frozen veggies. Some ice in a bin. Something meat-like in a freezer bag. And about six different boxes of various ice creams. Most of them chocolate.

“Get one,” he said and his hand was pushing your elbow up and steering your hand toward the open box of chocolate popsicles.

You grabbed with your open hand and he pulled your elbow back like you were a claw machine and he was working the lever.

You grasped the popsicle between both of your hands with a small smile building against your will.

“Eat it,” he said from behind your head and you were already ripping at the plastic wrapper. You didn’t even have a chance to throw away the wrapper when his hand was pushing at your elbow again. It bent upward and the chocolate plopped right into your open mouth.

“Bite,” he said.

You bit. He didn't have to tell you to chew and swallow. You knew how to do the rest.

After the ice cream you were seated on the sofa next to him and he pulled out a portable game system to keep him entertained while he pressed play on the movie he’d put on the big tv on the wall.

It was Bridget Jones's Diary. You had seen it enough times to know the entire movie by heart and still, still you laughed at every joke, swooned at every steamy look, and squealed like a piglet at every kiss scene. It literally did not get old. You could fall asleep and wake up watching this movie for the rest of your life and be as happy as ever.

After he’d felt you’d been babied enough for him to trust you not to dissolve into a fit of disaster without him, he left you alone to finish your movie. He said something about a bug he was working on fixing and you could hear him working from behind his closed door in his room.

He had been quiet as he worked. He usually was, save for the occasional song he sang along to, or work sounding phone call he took.

The credits were rolling on your happy ending and you could feel the beginnings of the first few period cramps twinging inside of your abdomen.

Everything made sense now, as it usually did whenever your period began.

You’d just stood to head toward the kitchen for some pain medicine when Baekhyun’s bedroom door was abruptly pulled open.

He bolted through the doorway and his phone was in his hands, his eyes were wide. Panic was written all over his face as he searched the room for you and finally made eye contact with you in the kitchen.

You had a bottle of pain reliever in one hand and another popsicle in your other and you were trying to figure out the logistics of getting the bottle of medicine open without having to put the sticky melty treat down anywhere and things weren’t going so well. Things were getting drippy.

Baekhyun arrived then and you beamed a wide and genuinely happy to see him smile. He would help you. He would open the pills. He would stuff you full of them to stop the pain.

At this point you didn't even care how many. You’d take however many the Gods decided to shake free from their plastic prison.

“Help,” he said, walking by the medicine you held out to him with his phone displayed in his hands. “Help me, she...our girlfriend, Maya, she—”

You gasped at his mispronunciation and you lifted your popsicle hand toward his face as you made the sounds with your mouth, “Mia. Like Mee-uh.”

“Mia, Maya, Moira, She is — she is talking to me.” His eyes were wide and they were crazed.

“She’s saying things and she’s really fucking smart and clever and she’s saying things to me, Bug. She’s, oh god, -the fuck didn't you tell me she was cute. Fuck. You have to help me. She thinks I’m cute too. Oh God. What do I do? What’s next?”

He was breathless when he was done and both of your hands were still full. Your popsicle was beginning to drip down your wrist. You would have to clean it up before you got ants. You still had some medicine to take too.

He was pacing. He thought she was cute too, it wasn’t just you who thought so. He said it himself. Although he reacted this way with nearly every girl you had seen him interact with. Hell, just last week he made you answer the door for the delivery chicken because the girl was cute and he wasn’t about to scribble his signature all over her hand by accident.

“Baekhyun, I already laid the groundwork for you.” Maybe the day was finally catching up to you but you felt suddenly very tired and in no mood to play make-believe with him right now.

“What does that mean?” His face betrayed his utter cluelessness and you sighed deeply, feeling much of the same melancholy mood return to you despite the chocolate and your favorite movie still fresh on your tongue. “What does that mean? I don't know what to do. You were going to help me.”

He was right. You shouldn’t just abandon a friend in need like you’d abandoned the popsicle in the trash can just now.

“You have a new episode of your show to watch. She also likes that show. Why don't you stream it together?”

His eyes lit up and his smile was wide and beautiful. Then he was spinning on his heels without even so much as a glance back. He typed into his phone and had nearly reached the door of his bedroom without even acknowledging your help when at the last minute you caught the look he shot you. It was a bright smile. He was excited and his smile reached his eyes.

“She said yes,” he said, “thanks, Bug.”

His door closed and you reached for the bottle of pills. Grabbing just two today, you downed them quickly and retreated to your room with a gloomy, lonely, little storm cloud floating stubbornly over your head.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth @totallynerdstuff @byunbabybaek @beg0neth0t420

#Baekhyun #Baekhyun fic #exo #exo fic #baekhyun series #exo series #baekyun au #exo au #baekhyun exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun fiction #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun ff #baekhyun fanfiction

396 notes · View notes