#so i had to put them together and also decide how many middle sections to put in | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aitaikimochi · 4 years ago

Photo

My Hero Academia DRAWING SMASH Exhibition Master Thread + Audio Guide Summary Translation!

1) All My Hero Academia DRAWING SMASH Tweets and Info 2) Horikoshi’s Interview about the Exhibition 3) Pre-Order MHA Exhibition Merchandise

FULL AUDIO GUIDE SUMMARY TRANSLATION: 1) Welcome Message 2) Roaring Sports Festival 3) The Test 4) My Hero Academia School Briefs 5) ULTRA HEROES 6) WANTED VILLAINS 7) ONE FOR ALL 8) ONE’S JUSTICE 9) Ending Credits

TRACK 1: WELCOME MESSAGE

All Might introduces and welcomes us to the My Hero Academia DRAWING SMASH Exhibition. Deku is also there and says that while listening to this audio guide, please don’t stop movnig as you will hold up the line and flow of traffic. He explains that the Exhibition is split into many different areas, and there’s tons of hand-drawn panels by Horikoshi-sensei on display too. There is also a section in the Exhibition that focuses on the anime too! All Might tells Deku that there’s a section dedicated to All Might himself, and Deku gets super excited and turns to Bakugou and says, “Kacchan, did you hear that? Uh Kacchan? Where are you?” Deku tries looking for Bakugou, but Aizawa comes and tells Deku to move along the line.

TRACK 2: ROARING SPORTS FESTIVAL

Ochako waves at Deku and says, “over here, Deku!” Deku goes to where she’s standing and looks at the different manga panels from the Sports Festival. He says thanks to Ochako, Tokoyami, and Hatsume, they were able to win that fight in the Sports Festival. Ochako sees her fight with Bakugou and says he was too strong, but she really wanted to win that fight for her Mom and Dad. Deku tells her it’s okay because she definitely tried her best. Ochako gets a bit flustered at this. Bakugou then passes by and asks, “Who did their best? No matter how many times I fight Deku, I’d obviously always win. But if Deku maybe was a bit more buff, he could PERHAPS put up a fight.” Ochako exclaims, “WOAH! Bakugou praised him! It’s definitely going to snow tomorrow.” Bakugou tells her to shut up.

Deku sees the next panel, which is the fight between himself and Todoroki. Ochako excitedly recites the line Deku said to Todoroki, which was the “It’s your power isn’t it!?” line. Deku gets embarrassed and tells her to stop. Todoroki thanks Deku and says it’s because of him that he remembered why exactly he wanted to be a hero in the first place. Bakugou yells at them for being sappy and gross. They then turn their attention to the panels featuring the fight between Todoroki and Bakugou. Deku said Todoroki performed really well, but Bakugou’s Howitzer Impact move was super strong. Bakugou yells that he doesn’t want to be reminded of his unwarranted victory from that fight. Todoroki apologizes.

Ochako says that Bakugou’s poor performance made his image look really bad since it was broadcasted on national television, but Bakugou says he could care less. Todoroki says he’s sorry he didn’t fight his best as he was troubled during that fight, but his head is clear now. Todoroki says he will be a proper hero. Deku says he wants to be like All Might. Bakugou says he wants to surpass All Might. Aizawa then comes and tells the group to move along as they are holding up the line.

TRACK 3: THE TEST

Deku explains that after the Sports Festival, the Hero Class went on internships with Pro Heroes. Todoroki mentions that during this time, the villains started to make moves in society, such as when they encountered Stain. Deku then goes on to say that after the Stain encounter, their class went to do the Forest Training during the Summer. Ochako remarks that Bakugou got kidnapped during this training period, and Bakugou tells her to shut up. Todoroki then explains that he, Iida, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and Midoriya went to save him. Bakugou continues to tell everyone to shut up. Deku then says he’s glad they were successful in saving Bakugou, all thanks to Kirishima. Bakugou says, “I told you guys to stop talking about this!”

Deku then talks about the next moment in the timeline, which was the Provisional License Exam. Ochako said she trained so hard using her Zero Gravity quirk that just thinking about it now makes her want to throw up. Deku says that even though it was really difficult to train for the exam, the training did help him master using the Shoot Style with his legs as well. Todoroki mentions that the move Midoriya came up with using his feet was very strong, and Deku said that he also got used to it. Deku thanks Hatsume for making the costume and shoes for him.

Ochako says the Provisional License Exam this year in particular was difficult as the passing rate was abysmally low. She asks Bakugou if the Provisional License Exam was difficult, and Bakugou says “shut up don’t remind me.” Todoroki then says, “Yeah, it must have sucked to fail the Provisional License Exam” and Bakugou says, “What the hell- you failed too!” Deku tells them all to calm down. He says that Bakugou’s team did well in the first exam thanks to Kaminari’s new technique made possible by the point shooter gear he got from Hatsume. Bakugou once again tells everyone to shut up.

Todoroki recalls that their entire class did well in the first round, but he personally messed up in the second round, which caused him to fail the exam. Bakugou mocks him and says “what a loser, failing the exam” and Ochako says “but you failed too.” Bakugou yells “SHUT THE HELL UP!!!”

TRACK 4: MY HERO ACADEMIA SCHOOL BRIEFS

This entire track is a recap of various events that happened at U.A. Academy on campus. Deku starts off by saying he was so nervous when he first started school at U.A. but was thankful that he was able to make friends with Iida and Ochako so quickly. Bakugou scoffs and says, “isn’t it because you just didn’t have any friends in middle school?” Deku nervously says, “I think I had a few friends…!” Todoroki asks Deku why he didn’t deny it though.

Ochako remembers that Aizawa first asked the class to test their quirks, and Aizawa comes in and says he did that because he wanted to see their potential. Deku gets nervous and wonders if Aizawa came up to them because they were holding up the line, but Aizawa said he didn’t even say anything.

Todoroki said being part of the Hero Class meant that they had tons of different types of classes, and it was sometimes quite confusing. Ochako says even though it was difficult, it was still fun, such as when they had to decide on their hero names. Bakugou scoffs and says, “Stupid Deku actually chose his Hero Name as ‘Deku’ the hell? Did he finally lose it?” Deku rebutts and says, “But I actually like that as my Hero name!” Bakugou asks Deku, “What’s so good about that name?” Deku then asks Bakugou if he had decided on a hero name yet, and Bakugou says, “Nah, I’m not gonna tell you.” Deku replies, “What, why not?”

Aizawa reminisces and says that Deku and Bakugou fought really well against All Might during the Final Exam. Bakugou said he did that so he could win against All Might. If it wasn’t for that why would he team up with Deku? Bakugou then yells, “Stupid Deku! I’m gonna Kill you!” and Deku gets confused as to why he’s saying this. Ochako mentions that saying stuff like that would definitely get them cut from all Hero interviews, and Todoroki mentions that they should be careful about what they say.

Bakugou gets mad and says he’s going to kill all three of them, and Deku asks, “so now you’re targeting 3 people!?”

Aizawa reprimands them and Deku apologizes, promising that he won’t argue anymore. Aizawa keeps a firm stance to Bakugou too. He tells Bakugou that heroes need to use their quirks to save people, not kill them. Bakugou says it wasn’t like he was actually going to do that, he’s not that kind of person.

All Might steps in and says they should put this behind them. He suggests that they should just go and see the other stuff in the Exhibition together in the U.A. area. He sees that there’s a section made just for Mineta. Deku says, “Wow it’s full of Mineta scenes!” Ochako looks at it and says, “Oh, how nice” and Bakugou says, “hmph, it’s just a place to show off an animal.” Todoroki asks Bakugou if he’s jealous that Mineta has the spotlight, and Bakugou says, “Ha! As if!!”

All might sees the Cultural Festival area and says, “Oh! This is the time when U.A. Academy held the Cultural Festival!” Ochako mentions that it was really fun. All might says Class A performed with both a band and a dance team. Deku mentions that during the Cultural Festival, the whole school gets together to create activities and open stands around the campus, and it’s not just the Hero Class but the General and Economics classes also join in too. All Might asks who’s idea was it to do the dance for Class A? Deku says it was Todoroki’s idea. Todoroki said he just thought it would be nice to have something that everyone can participate and have fun, and Deku says it was a great idea.

Ochako says everyone was able to participate in it too. Deku mentions Jirou was the one in charge of leading the band, Ashido was in charge of the dance team. Todoroki said they did well using their quirks to create a great performance. Ochako says she didn’t expect Bakugou to actually participate and play the drums for them, and she recites his line, “Let’s kill ‘em with sound!” Bakugou scoffs at her and Todoroki asks Bakugou, “why do you get angry when people praise you?” Bakugou replies, “What the hell are you even talking about!?”

Todoroki goes on to say that Jirou’s performance during the song was really great. Bakugou yells at hiim to stop changing the subject!

All Might asks if Deku enjoyed the Cultural Festival. He answers that it was really fun, and seeing people outside of their class was awesome, such as Eri as well. Deku mentions that they were able to finally let her smile, and that made him so happy. Aizawa also agrees.

All Might says it’s important for heroes to bring smiles to people’s faces. He tells them to never forget that. Deku says, “Of course, All Might!” Aizawa says to Deku that he’s stopping in line again. Deku apologizes, and All Might asks them to hurry along down the line.

TRACK 5: ULTRA HEROES

This track plays in the area where you see all the Hero panels. The heroes on display are Mirko, Bakugou, Ochako, Deku, Todoroki, Hawks, Endeavor, Amajiki, Kirishima, Mirio, and Nejire. Ochako says, “woah, there’s so many heroes!” Deku gets excited and sees the first Hero, Mirko. He goes on a ramble saying she’s ranked #5 in the Hero Ranking, her quirk is using her bunny abilities. He says that Mirko has not only a ton of male fans, but female fans as well. Bakugou snickers at Deku and exclaims, “you’re such a Hero nerd!”

Ochako mentions that the next Hero after Mirko is Bakugou. Deku introduces Bakugou, saying “This is Bakugou Katsuki. He’s enrolled in U.A. Academy and sits in Seat #17 in Class A. He has a hero name, but he won’t tell him…”

Bakugou gets angry. Todoroki then continues and says, “His quirk is explosions by using nitroglycerin that he emits from his hands.”

Bakugou tells them to shut up.

Todoroki ignores Bakugou and continues with, “His personality is…”

Bakugou screams, “SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!”

And Todoroki finishes with, “…like that.”

Ochako then sees herself and says, “Oh it’s me!!” She explains her quirk and how she can cause anything to float if she touches then, but if she puts her fingers together, she can release the zero gravity as well. Bakugou then mentions that she also throws up if she uses her quirk too much. Ochako gets embarrassed and says that he really did not need to say that!

Deku says they should go on to the next person, which is him. He introduces himself as Midoriya Izuku, and his hero name is Deku. He whispers, “My quirk is…One For All…Please read the manga to find out more about it…” Todoroki asks Deku why he’s whispering, and Deku gets nervous and says, “Oh, it’s nothing at all!”

Deku sees that next up is Todoroki. Ochako introduces Todoroki and says “his full name is Todoroki Shouto, anad his hero name is just like his first name, Shouto!” Todoroki explains his quirk, and Deku says he has a truly impressive quirk since he can combine them together to create awesome attacks. Todoroki says he still needs to polish his quirk, and Ochako mentions he’s a very stoic person.

The next hero is Hawks, and Deku gets excited, saying “Oh it’s the winged hero Hawks!” Deku goes on to ramble details about Hawks, such as him being Rank #2 on the Hero Ranking Billboard, his quirk is using his feathers, but he keeps going on and Ochako says, “Ahh, maybe we should move on to the next one!”

Next up is Endeavor. Todoroki explains that Endeavor’s Quirk is called “Hell Flame.” He can emit fire at extremely high temperatures, but if he overuses his quirk, he gets burned instead. Deku says on that note, Todoroki’s quirk is better than his father’s since he can use the ice part to cool himself down. Todoroki muses that perhaps he does have an advantage over his Father.

The next Hero in line is Amajiki Tamaki. Deku introduces him as part of U.A. Academy’s Big 3. His hero name is Sun Eater. His quirk is transforming parts of his body into animals, and he can do this by eating food of that animal. Ochako explains further that if he eats takoyaki, he can use octopus arms, if he eats fried chicken, he can use the chickens legs. She then goes off saying, “tuna, beef, fish roe, mochi…” Todoroki asks if she just suddenly started rambling on about food because she just wants to eat those food, and Ochako says “I’m hungry…”

Deku sees that the next hero is Kirishima. He asks Bakugou to introduce Kirishima since they’re friends. Bakugou says, “What do you mean friends? He’s just my lackey!” Deku says, “Err…okay, Kirishima Eijirou, Hero name Red Riot. His quirk is Hardening.” Bakugou then scoffs saying, “He’s just an idiot who gets hard, that’s all!” Ochako comments, saying, “Well, you don’t need to be shy about it!” Bakugou then yells, “I’m not being shy!”

Todoroki moves the conversation along and mentions that the next Hero is Mirio-senpai. Deku introduces Mirio’s hero name as Lemillion and mentions his quirk allows him to go through things. Ochako says that according to Aizawa-sensei, Mirio is the closest to being the same rank as the Number 1 Hero. Bakugou grumbles and says, “No, I’M the one who’s going to be Number 1!” Ochako says, “Right…of course you are…” and Bakugou gets furious, saying, “YOU DARE MAKE FUN OF ME!?”

Ochako notices that the next Hero is Nejire Hado. She introduces her and says her Hero name is Nejire-chan. Ochako explains how her quirk works, and Deku remarks that Nejire can also use it to fly. Ochako adds that Nejire also won the U.A. Beauty Contest during the Cultural Festival.

Todoroki says after seeing all the Heroes lined up like this, everyone truly has amazing quirks. Bakugou says they’re all underlings compared to him though. Ochako says, “Right…of course…” and Bakugou explodes once again, asking, “What the hell, are you making fun of me?” and Ochako repeats, “right…of course” to which Bakugou curses. Deku says to the group, “We really should be moving down the line now…”

TRACK 6: WANTED VILLAINS

Aizawa asks All Might to look at the new data he pulled up on the computer about the League of Villains. The first villain they look at is the various Nomu. The file says that the Nomus are injected with quirks that are stolen or enhanced from either themselves or other people. The next villain is Stain, who Aizawa mentions killed many heroes that he deemed unfit to be a Hero. His quirk is being able to control people by drinking their blood. All Might says the next villain in the file is Gigantomachia. Aizawa mentions that aside from being able to make his body gigantic, not much is known about Gigantomachia’s quirk. What they do know is that he works for All For One.

The villain after that is Twice with a quirk that allows him to multiply hiimself.

All Might mentions that the next villain file is Shigaraki. Aizawa says he’s the current leader for the League of Villains. His quirk is the formidable disintegration quirk that can disintegrate anything that he touches with five fingers. Next up is Dabi. Aizawa mentions that his quirk is unknown but he has been seen using blue fire. Aizawa remembers fighting against Dabi during the Forest Training, and he saw that blue fire.

All Might pulls up Toga’s file afterwards. Aizawa mentions that she can turn into anyone if she has even just a sip of their blood. The villain after her is Mr. Compress, who is able to compress and decompress things or people. He can also use it on multiple objects at the same time.

The villain after Twice is Re Destro, who is the leader of the Meta Liberation Army. Aizawa says that his quirk is stress, which he builds up to release immense power.

All Might then opens All For One’s file. Aizawa says that they really don’t know anything about his quirk. The villain after him is the Doctor, who also has an unknown quirk. They do have information that the Doctor is the one in charge of creating the gruesome Nomu and High End Nomu too.

All Might mentions the League of Villains is probably plotting something even though he fought All For One and sent many of them to Tartarus. Aizawa said they must be scheming something since if the incident with the High End nomu is any indication. All Might says even if the League of Villains is on the move, the Heroes will not lose to them.

TRACK 7: ONE FOR ALL

Track 7 is a monologue by All Might. It plays in the All Might section of the Exhibition where manga panels of All Might are on display as well as a ton of decoration with All Might on the walls as well.

All might says that in order to create a society where people can freely smile and feel safe, it was necessary to have a Symbol of Peace. He wanted to be a pillar where people can depend on and smile when they see him. All Might says he inherited One For All to do just that. He is the 8th successor of One For All, and all previous One For All holders and he worked together to try to defeat All For One. However, even if they lose their lives in the fight against All For One, their hope still passes onto their successors.

They need to be Symbols of Peace for the people. All Might says he wants to be the person who can bring smiles to people’s faces. No matter what happens, he needs to keep on smiling. Those who are able to keep smiling are the strongest. That’s why he smiles.

He says that Young Midoriya and he were both quirkless. But after meeting Midoriya and seeing the strong willpower that he possessed, he knew that he had to mentor him to be his successor. All Might says to Midoriya, “Everything, from One For All to my own feelings in my heart, I entrust them all to you. Young Midoriya, you’re next.”

TRACK 8: ONE’S JUSTICE

Track 8 plays in the room where there’s panels leading up to the Paranormal Liberation War Arc. All Might starts off the audio track by explaining the big war between the Villains and the Pro-Heroes, which the U.A. Academy heroes in training also participated in. Endeavor, Miruko, and Eraserhead were dispatched to the lair of the Villains where Shigaraki unfortunately awoken as well. Once he woke up, he began destroying people and things one after another. However, the Heroes did not waver and fought back to villains while protecting the civilians.

What the villains want is to create a new world without heroes.

What Shigaraki wants is to destroy everything.

What Midoriya wants is to protect everyone with a smile.

What Bakugou wants is to be the best hero and not lose to anyone.

What All Might wishes is if Young Midoriya and Young Bakugou can work together and acknowledge each other, they can both become who they want to be.

To save and win, to win and save.

All Might says if they are able to do this, they can become the Strongest Heroes.

Deku then exclaims, “Go forward, Midoriya Izuku! Use the power All Might entrusted in you to save people. I will save and win!”

Bakugou then says, “I will win and save! That’s Bakugou Katsukis’ way of life on the path to become the Number One Hero!”

All Might ends the track with the line, “To destroy the word or to save it. One For All’s successor Midoriya Izuku fights head on with All For One’s successor, Shigaraki Tomura.”

TRACK 9: END CREDITS

All Might says he’s come to send us off and thank us for visiting the exhibition! Deku also says thanks for coming. Ochako asks if we had fun? Todoroki says they were able to relive a bunch of different moments at this exhibition. He says he is thankful for it, and Deku agrees. Ochako asks Bakugou how was the exhibition? Bakugou says screw this- they should all go back inside and just focus on everything Bakugou related, forget about the Villains or anyone else. Todoroki says, “Well, if we do that we’ll need to reserve tickets again so…”

Aizawa asks All Might to do the closing message. All Might thanks us again for visiting, but things don’t just end here! The world of My Hero Academia will only keep getting bigger and bigger! Deku hopes that we can always cheer them on.

All Might then leads everyone in saying “GO BEYOND, PLUS ULTRA!!!”

Deku says to us, “Let’s meet again soon, everyone!” He then turns to All Might saying, “That’s good right? Oh, oh crap I still need to get in line to buy the limited edition goods only sold at the Exhibition! Wait let me go line up ahhh!” and scurries off.

All Might then laughs and says “as expected of the headstrong Young Midoriya!”

980 notes · View notes

writerpeach · 4 years ago

Text

Hot & Cold

LOOΠΔ Kim Lip x Male Reader

9836 words

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

The stars shined bright as you wandered through the downtown streets aimlessly, taking in the cool crisp air of the nighttime sky. Music filled the streets and your ears as you passed through a variety of stores, each one with its best wares on display to tempt you.

You were searching for a gift for Choi Yerim’s upcoming birthday, clueless on where to even start looking for ideas. It had been several weeks since you had been introduced to her, and while you knew a little about what her likes and dislikes were, buying the perfect gift that would make her special day seemed a daunting challenge.

The three of you were inseparable lately, spending most of your time outside of work at your favorite lunar themed cafe and the cutest barista that worked there who always threw in free drinks. Lately though, Hyejoo had spent more time than usual preoccupied with her new job until the late hours of the night, leaving you without her help and on your own for your quest.

There were the obvious choices of flowers and candy, and while you had to start somewhere those were boring choices. You wanted your gift to be special and worthy of the girl who you had spent so much time with lately, a girl who brought nothing but happiness and positivity into your life.

Walking past dozens of places, you waited for a store to catch your attention as most failed to offer anything substantial. One in particular caught your eye. Maybe it was the mannequins in the window wearing cute dresses that you easily pictured Yerim wearing, but this place spoke to you.

There wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary as you walked in, a small looking boutique with high ceilings and bright lights, shelves filled with meticulously folded shirts and pants in diverse sets of colors, while plentiful dresses and accessories lined the walls.

You carefully looked around, not wanting to knock anything out of place as you browsed, unsure where to even begin. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the store, which wasn’t surprising given it was rather late in the evening, approaching nearer to closing time than you expected.

“Oh, hello, sir! Welcome to Lippington’s Exquisite Clothing,” you heard a soft husky voice call out in the distance, breaking the silence as you craned your head to see a slim blonde heading in your direction.

The clack of high heels on the wooden floor grew louder with each step as she approached, her hips swaying as she sauntered through the clothing store to close the distance, forming a small smile on her lips.

When the blonde woman stepped into frame you were met with her beauty at point-blank range. It was fairly unmistakable that her golden locks weren’t natural, not that it made her any less beautiful, not a hair out of place and there must have been a lot of effort put into maintaining such a wondrous shade. You didn’t know a thing about fashion, but the black sequin dress she had on sparkled in the light, doing her small body wonders and fitting perfectly.

It seemed a little risque for a place of employment, showing off bare shoulders and barely covering up her upper chest, but you weren’t one to judge, especially when she pulled it off flawlessly. It wasn’t too tight nor was it or too short, leaving part of her body to the imagination and above else it looked expensive. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t something that could have been picked up off one of the many racks.

Her fingernails were painted dark black, something you always loved on a woman as the color matched her dress, topping it all off with a light shade of red lipstick that made her small lips pop out.

You had to snap out of your haze as you caught yourself staring, frantically darting your eyes around the store in an attempt to not appear rude.

“My name is Jungeun, can I help you find anything?”

“Ah, actually, yes. I’m looking for a present for a woman. She’s young, about your age.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to help. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Uh, not exactly. She’s a good friend of mine,” you said, stumbling over your words as true as they were. You still hadn’t formed any type of relationship with Yerim, and hearing those words out loud brought out several feelings.

The beautiful woman sensed your hesitation in answering her simple question but was eagerly happy to help anyways.

“We have several sections for women to choose from. Is there a style that you think she would be interested in?”

You found yourself caught unprepared by all her questions, even though they were just to help out. Now, whereas Hyejoo was often a sweatpants and t-shirt type of girl, Yerim loved to put in effort into her outfits, even if it was a simple trip to a convenience store.

“She wears dresses a lot. Mostly cute ones.”

“I see. Let me show you some dresses that I can help you pick out that you think she would like.”

The woman led the way as you followed, trying not to focus your attention on her backside as much as you would have liked, stopping at the front of the store in a section with several racks of dresses surrounding a giant mirror.

“Do you know what size your...friend is?” she asked, and you’re pretty sure she was teasing you. You definitely didn’t know Yerim’s size. Hell, you didn’t even know how dress sizes worked.

“No, I don’t,” you said, having a brief moment of panic. You could have asked Hyejoo, but calling her at work was an option if you could have gotten ahold of her.

“I could show you a picture of her, would that help?”

“It’s a start,” she coldly said. You grabbed your phone and looked through several pictures trying to find a suitable one that showed her body off the best, making sure to not accidentally click on the folder of private pictures Yerim had sent for your eyes only.

You came across one of your favorite pictures of Yerim, wearing a cute white flowery dress standing in front of the mirror, looking adorable as usual. You handed Jungeun your phone who stared at it intently for several moments as if she had just seen a ghost.

“Yerim…” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh, do you know her?”

“Yes,” she simply stated, handing you back her phone. “We met at Girl Front Academy and studied together for three years until we went our separate ways. I haven’t talked to her since then, but it seems she’s still sickeningly cute,” Jungeun said, and you couldn’t tell if her reaction was of annoyance or not.

“Her body isn’t too far from mine, but she’s much curvier than I am. She always had better thighs than me,” she said, and this time you could definitely tell she was annoyed as if she were lacking in the body department.

“I’ll show you a few things that should fit her.”

The smile faded from her lips as she went through several clothing racks, picking out a dress from each one that stood out in a completely different look.

“Some of these may not be her style. This one is a little frilly, and this one is maybe a little too revealing,” Jungeun said, letting you see them all. They all had their appeal, and while you could have just gone overboard and bought them all, you didn’t want to seem desperate. You needed to find the perfect dress and had confidence that this woman would help you do just that.

“I like these two,” you said, choosing one that was casual and one that was formal. Jungeun was right, one was too skimpy, too gaudy, and one was too...you couldn’t find the words but there were much better choices. They all looked nice, but the dresses left behind didn't really didn’t match Yerim’s style.

“Both excellent choices,” Jungeun said, holding them up side by side. To her left was a simple purple cocktail dress with a wide neckline and thin straps, which seemed to be about knee-length, ruffled and slightly see-thru at the base. You selfishly wanted it to be much shorter, knowing her luscious thighs being covered up was a crime but remembered this was a gift for her and not you.

The other dress Jungeun held was colorful to say the least. Lace with black at the top, dark red at the end and woven colorful fabric in the middle, equipped with a multitude of gemstones. The dress was much longer than the previous one, given Yerim’s height it would practically be touching the floor, but also had a more elegant touch to it.

To say you had trouble deciding between the two would be an understatement. Given your ignorance, you would have picked the dress on your left based on color alone.

It was a good thing you had someone who seemed to be rather informed on the subject of clothing given that it was her job as she sensed your indecisiveness as your eyes wandered back and forth.

“This one would be good for any occasion, it's thin and comfortable without being too skimpy,” Jungeun said as she held it up higher than the other.

“Now, this one is better suited to dinner parties, weddings, ceremonies, that type of thing. It’ll flatter her body more but she’ll look out of place at a cafe obviously.”

“You have a knack for this, Jungeun.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” she shyly said. “You don’t own your own store for several years without knowing a little something about fashion.”

“You own this place?”

“I do. This’ll be the third year running this place. It’s been a little dead lately, but it’ll kick back up when spring comes.”

Jungeun let out another small smile, and you’re pretty sure her arms were getting tired from holding both dresses up.

“They’re both really nice dresses, but if you still can’t decide I could help out and try them on. I may not have the body that Yerim does, but it’ll look better on me than on a mannequin.”

“You’d do that? That seems like a lot of trouble, you really don’t have to, I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do.”

“It’s not that much trouble, there’s not much else to do as you can see. Might just close up early tonight if nobody else shows up.”

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, heading towards the fitting room in the corner, taking both dresses with her. You waited just outside the door, taking a seat on the bench not unlike the same way you had for both Hyejoo and Yerim the dozens of times you were dragged away shopping with them.

She didn’t take that long to change into the first dress, walking out of the dressing room looking ready to take the runaway.

“What do you think?” she asked, as she spun around, letting you see every aspect of her in the casual dress.

“It’ll hug her body better, but it fits me nicely. It’ll look nicer with heels of course,” she said, taking note of the fact that she was barefoot. She did look rather nice in it, the dark color offset the brightness of her blonde hair, giving a glimpse at her luscious long legs as she modeled it for you.

“I like it.”

“Don’t choose until you see the other one. I’ll be right back.”

You gave a gentle nod as she disappeared back into the dressing room, and you eagerly waited for her return wanting to see a more close up look of the other dress. You had all but chosen this dress already, the formal dress had its work cut out for it and had some stiff competition.

More time passed than was expected while you waited for her to try on the other dress, not that you felt the need to complain. Maybe she was doing something different with the second dress that required more time as you sat there patiently, wasting time on your phone.

“Hey, uh. I could use some help,” you heard her call through the dressing room stall. You got out of your seat and headed over to her direction to check it out.

“What do you need?” you asked through the other side of the door.

The woman took a second of hesitation to respond. “I think the zipper’s stuck. It won’t budge. It’s unlocked, you can come in. I won’t bite.”

You’re not sure why she added that last part, but you opened the door and stepped inside to see her back to you, the zipper caught at the top of the dress. You grabbed it carefully and inspected it, pulling it down several times to no avail as it refused to work with you, unable to move like when you woke up in the mornings. Nothing worked, and you didn’t want to be too forceful with it.

“It’s not moving.”

Jungeun sighed loudly. “I should have designed this one better.”

“You designed this dress?”

“Yes, most of the clothing in this store is my own design. Anything that’s not is from other designers I know or collaborations.”

“That’s impressive.”

“It’s nothing really, I’ve been doing this my whole life,” she said nonchalantly. “Now, if it’s not going to unstuck itself you’re just going to rip it open.”

“You want me to rip it? There has to be something here we can fix it with.”

“It’ll take too long. Just be suck it up and rip it, I can fix it later.”

“If you insist,” you said, holding on to both sides of the dress you tugged hard on it, tearing the zipper down the middle as the sounds of fabric being torn filled the room as the dress became collateral damage.

“Impressive,” Jungeun said as your attention was on the now ruined dress, the zipper all the way down and dangling off to expose her back.

“Thanks, now let’s hope this other dress doesn’t give us the same type of trouble.”

“I’ll step out,” you said, heading towards the door when Jungeun’s eyes stopped you.

”What, have you’ve never seen a woman undress before?”

“Of course I have, but-”

“But what? It’s not a big deal, but if you’d prefer to wait outside, be my guest. I won’t be long.”

Well, you couldn’t let this opportunity pass you by now.

“I’ll stay then.”

“Good. Enjoy the show.”

With your back flat against the wall Jungeun began undressing, pulling the purple thin straps down her shoulders and hesitating, teasing you for a moment as your eyes met. Taking her time, she slipped her arms out of the purple cocktail dress and slowly peeling it down her body just past her waist, exposing her tight toned midriff.

Jungeun never kept her eyes off you, inching the rest of the dress off her body and wiggling her hips until gravity did the rest. The discarded garment draped around her ankles, leaving her in an alluring pair of simple white underwear, sheer in enough places that still let your imagination run wild. It was quite an unexpected sight.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, trying your best to keep your mouth closed as you let out an audible deep exhale at such a gorgeous woman. Her complexion was beautiful, her skin fair and immaculate and you desperately wanted to reach out and touch her body.

“Judging by the way you can’t stop drooling over me, I’m going to guess you like what you see?”

If seeing her tight body on display wasn’t enough, she had positioned herself (perhaps even strategically so), in front of the mirror, giving you the perfect view of the white thong nestled in between her firm buttcheeks.

“Your turn,” Jungeun said, snapping you out of your trance as she placed her hands on her hips.

“What?”

“It’s not very fair for me to be the only one who’s undressed is it? Come on, I wanna see what you’re packing,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk as she crossed her arms.

Things had certainly escalated. When you walked into this store you hadn’t expected to be seeing the owner in her bra and panties, and you certainly didn’t expect you were about to match her level of nudity.

If you needed any further encouragement, her round dark eyes let you know that she wasn’t joking, and when a woman in her underwear tells you to do something you didn’t dare disappoint.

Taking a deep breath you began unbuttoning your shirt, removing each button until you had stripped it off and tossed it on the ground. Jungeun eyed your bare chest like you were a piece of meat, not unlike the way you had gawked over her earlier.

“Keep going,” she urged, and bit her lip deeply, showing her approval as you unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants, not wasting time in yanking them off and kicked them away. It was difficult to process. There you were, standing across from a beautiful woman that owned the clothing store you had spontaneously picked, obviously ogling your mostly naked body while you were doing the same in return.

The whole series of events had gotten you so aroused that you hadn’t realized that your shaft had become full mast, sporting an unavoidable bulge through your boxers.

“Do you usually get this hard just by seeing a woman in her underwear?” she teased, as you looked down in embarrassment as your package dying to poke through, your cheeks instantly reddening.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, it’s perfectly natural,” Jungeun said as she approached your side of the small changing room, closing the distance and cupped your crotch, causing your body to tense up.

“I’d be a little disappointed if you weren’t getting excited,” she said, continuing to squeeze your crotch through your boxers.

"How would you like it if I took everything off?" Jungeun asked, using her free hand to run her hands through her golden locks, ruffling her perfectly styled hair seductively.

“I’m not that easy, you’ll have to at least buy me a drink to get my panties off. But I’ll give you a little something to hold you over,” she said as she slowly dropped to her knees on the stack of clothes that had piled up in the middle of the floor.

Jungeun wanted one thing as she grabbed your boxers and swiftly yanked them down to your ankles, your hard cock throbbing as it was released from its frustrating restraints. Her eyes lit up in excitement as she grabbed your cock and squeezed it with a gentle pressure, delivering slow pleasurable strokes as her thumb rubbed your sensitive swollen tip, making you leak over her slim fingers.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had some good cock. Too long,” Jungeun said as she flattened her tongue against the base of your shaft, slowly drawing upward and taking her time. You let out a soft moan as her pink tongue reached your swollen cockhead, swirling around and planting a wet kiss on your tip that made you shiver in delight.

“You’re so fucking hard,” she said as her wet tongue explored every inch, lapping up every drop that escaped from your leaking slit. Her lips pressed deeply against your throbbing shaft, moving from base to tip and not letting a spot go without a wet kiss that sent tingles up your spine.

“You did this to me,” you replied, and Jungeun answered not with words but with actions as her pouty lips parted with your shaft as it entered her warm mouth, her soft lips squeezing tight around your throbbing flesh as her cheeks hollowed.

“F-fuck, that’s good,” you moaned, leaning back into the dressing room’s wooden wall, as you watched Jungeun work your cock, bobbing her head up and down as her tongue followed, playing with your sensitive underside.

Jungeun’s mouth felt heavenly, her soft cherry lips wrapped tightly around your cock as she pleasured you, focusing on the first few inches of your flesh as she enveloped it with warm and wet sensations that overwhelmed you.

“That feels amazing, d-don’t stop,” you said, as the blonde woman who was practically still a stranger never ceased her oral assault on your cock. Her warm lips left a trail of warm saliva as you felt more of her throat, watching the deep lust in her eyes as she slowly sucked you off.

Shortly after you felt Jungeun’s mouth pushing deeper, her full lips sliding down your wet shaft with ease, distracting you and making you forget everything else. Jungeun wasn’t kidding as she seemed to be deprived of the taste of cock as she hungrily slurped on your shaft, voicing her satisfaction in giving you such a wonderful blowjob.

You couldn’t just stand there and watch the action unfold as you ran your fingers through Jungeun’s pretty blonde hair, guiding her movements as you placed a hand on the back of her head. She took the hint in stride, taking more of you down her throat as she gave your shaft deep satisfying strokes from base to tip, sticking her tongue out to please every inch of you she could.

“Jungeun…fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself any longer and grabbed a handful of hair, forming a tight fist around a makeshift ponytail as you used it to assist her into a faster rhythm that she didn’t seem to mind.

You kept Jungeun’s mouth busy, using her ponytail as your personal set of reins to force her mouth to the very end of your base repeatedly, using her mouth without mercy. She gave no sounds of discomfort, if anything she voiced the opposite as she slobbered all over your needy shaft, covering it with her messy drool as her throat was kept filled.

You kept this up for as long as you could, savoring Jungeun’s wet and hot mouth and occasionally gave glances towards the mirror to distract you with her delicious backside as the sounds of her slurping on your cock filled the room that caused you to moan even louder.

“F-fuck, Jungeun, I’m about to cum,” you said, releasing the tight grip you held on her hair as it fell back onto her beautiful shoulders.

“I wonder what you’ll taste like,” Jungeun said as she withdrew your cock from her wet mouth with a loud pop, using her tongue to frantically trace around your swollen tip, pushing you even more over the edge.

Jungeun could sense your climax wasn’t backing down as she took control of your cock, furiously stroking it as she opened her mouth and stuck her pink tongue out as she prepared to finish what she started.

You were almost there as your breathing shallowed, every long stroke from base to tip Jungeun gave your shaft made your balls tighten even more, her tongue flicking against your dripping slit to expedite your impending orgasm.

“J-Jungeun, I’m cumming!” you cried out as her grip tightened, her eyes laser-focused onto you as your throbbing cock shot cum directly onto her wet tongue and into the back of her mouth as she emptied you.

Multiple thick spurts of cum fired from your tip that caused you to moan with need, each feeling better than the last as a milky white pool collected on Jungeun's wet tongue as she worked your shaft, making sure to drain your balls thoroughly.

Jungeun made sure she squeezed out every drop as she kept her mouth open, making a show of swirling your fresh load, sloshing it around before she closed her mouth. You watched the beautiful sight of Jungeun's throat gulping as she swallowed it all.

“Not bad, I guess,” she said, displaying her now empty pink tongue and licked her lips, sucking the sensitive tip of your depleted shaft to make sure there were no more remnants left, forcing a reaction that made your entire body shake.

Jungeun stood back up and gave your cock a few final strokes, making sure she kept a tight grip with every twist that drove you crazy.

"Okay, get out,” she abruptly said, as you leaned back against the wall in exhaustion.

“W-what?” you replied, trying to catch your breath as you picked out which clothes were yours from the discarded pile.

“I have to close this place up, it’s late and there are a lot of things that have to get done. You can leave after you get dressed.”

“What about the dress? I still need to buy Yerim something.”

“You can pick it up tomorrow, I'll hold it for you. You wanted this one didn’t you?”

“Y-yes, it’ll look good on her.”

“No, it’ll look great on her. We close at ten, show up anytime before that.”

“Can I at least get your number?”

“Ugh, fine I guess,” she said as you dug your phone out of your pants that you hadn’t bothered to put back on.

“Hope you enjoyed that. I don’t do that often, I just felt bad,” she said as she keyed in her number into your phone.

“You felt bad? That must be why I can see that wet spot on the front of your panties, Jungeun,” you said, and she quickly broke eye contact, embarrassed by her obvious enjoyment.

“You can let yourself out.”

Jungeun grabbed her clothes and left without another word, giving you one last glance at her perfect rear as she left the dressing room. You got dressed in a rush, not wanting to stay any longer and excited the clothing store, still feeling the fatigue setting in.

✦✦

Work kept you at the office longer than you had planned to be, which always seemed to always be the case, something that couldn’t be helped. After finishing tedious paperwork and last minute preparations for the next day you didn’t step out of the building until roughly after nine p.m and headed straight towards Jungeun’s clothing store, not bothering to change your clothes.

You made your entrance as quiet as possible, which wasn’t that difficult given she was finishing ringing up a customer as patiently waited for their transaction to finish up, casually browsing the clothing selection in the meantime.

“Didn’t think you were going to show up,” you heard, the unmistakable husky voice of Jungeun as she approached your area of the store. Her outfit was a little less flashy today, wearing a tight white top that showed off the outline of her breasts and very short jean shorts that showed off her amazingly long legs.

“Had a lot of work to finish before I could come here.”

“I know that feeling,” she said as she grabbed the purple dress you had decided on from behind the register.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t the same dress from yesterday, that one has been repurposed. This size should fit her, but if it doesn’t feel free to return it.”

“I’m sure it’ll fit her just fine. You know what you’re doing,” you said.

“I’d like to think so. You can go ahead and swipe your card now.”

“It’s cheaper than the price tag was yesterday,” you said as you inserted your card back into your wallet, putting in your pin number and completing the transaction.

“I threw in a discount. Think of it as a present from me to Yerim,” she said, batting her eyelashes as her lips formed a sweet smile.

“Thank you, Jungeun. That was very generous of you.”

“It’s not what you think. I’m just doing this as a favor, I don’t like you or anything,” Jungeun said as she bagged your gift for Yerim and handed it to you.

“I’m sure she’ll love it. Have a good night, Jungeun.”

You took your next step but before you could even finish placing your foot down Jungeun grabbed your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Aren’t you going to buy me that drink?” she asked, gently squeezing your arm with her small hand as you looked down at her pretty fingernails.

You didn’t typically drink on a Thursday night, but you also didn’t typically get a blowjob in a dressing room from a beautiful woman. It’s not like you couldn’t use it either, work continued to pile up and you hadn’t even had a chance to depressurize from it all.

“Okay, I’d like to buy you a drink, Jungeun.”

“Good, because I could certainly use one. Maybe even two.”

“I know the perfect place.”

“I’ll need to finish up here, looks like nobody else is showing up so I can get started on closing. Send me the address, I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

✦✦

Just a little over an hour later you pulled up a chair in a familiar place, taking a seat at the counter in your favorite dive bar you had been to dozens of times - both yourself and with the company of Yerim and Hyejoo. Taking a look around there was both familiarity and a lack thereof to the place.

New paintings had been hung, the walls painted with a fresh coat paint that made the place pop, and the rickety wooden stools had been replaced with fancier black ones, adding a hint of sophistication to the joint. It still needed tons of work but it was a start.

“Hey stranger. Haven’t seen you in a while,” you heard a distinctive deep voice speak out, one that could only belong to your favorite bartender Heejin. Your eyes met as she flashed a beautiful smile as she wiped down the counter.

“Work has kept me away from this place,” you said, as Heejin’s lips formed a deep out on her features. It was difficult to see in the dim lights, but her hair had been dyed a lighter shade of brown, making her more beautiful than the last time you came here.

“You here alone? I’m used to seeing you with those two cute girls,” she said, putting up bottles of alcohol and restocking clear straws on the counter.

“I’m waiting for someone. Met her yesterday.”

“Ooh, how exciting. Tell me all about her,” Heejin said as she leaned forward, capturing your attention.

“I don’t know that much about her yet other than she’s a fashion designer. She owns her own clothing store downtown by the pier.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. I’m sure she’s lovely. Can I get you started on anything while you wait?”

“I’ll just take a beer for now.”

“Coming right up!”

No more than a few seconds later Heejin placed down an ice cold mug directly in front of you filled to the brim with just a touch of foam. You slipped a few dollars in her stuffed tip jar, earning an ear to ear grin as she excused herself.

Moments later the seat next to you became occupied, the familiar perfume wafting through your nostrils that could be one person, Jungeun.

“Sorry I’m late, I had some last minute customers I had to deal with,” she said, placing her large purse on the bar counter in front of her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you could make it,” you said, taking your first sip of beer and wiping the foam from your lips.

“This place is a bit of a dump, isn’t it?” Jungeun bluntly said, not mincing her words.

“I don’t come here for the atmosphere.”

“Why do you come here then?” she asked, as Heejin came back and bent over to grab something off of the lower shelf, her tight pants doing her body justice as she flashed a smile as she rose up.

“Oh I see why,” she said, letting out a loud chuckle as she covered her mouth with her hand.

“That’s not it,” you insisted. “I like the drinks here. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Well, I’d hate to see how bad it looked before,” she said, rolling her eyes as she signaled Heejin over.

“Hi there! What can I get you?”

“A glass of red wine please.”

Heejin was nothing but diligent and before you could blink Jungeun was inspecting her half-filled glass of dark red wine, determined to find something wrong with it before indulging. For some reason she didn’t seem like a wine girl to you, but to be fair you didn’t know much about her other than she gave a spectacular blowjob.

“You’ve slept with her, haven’t you?” Jungeun said out of the blue, swirling her glass around before taking her first taste.

“What?” you said, nearly choking on your malty beverage.

“The cute girl with the brown hair. The way she looks at you makes me think she’s done more than serve you a drink,” Jungeun teased, crossing her legs.

You sighed loudly. “What are you a mind reader? Yes, I may have seen her naked on an occasion...or three.”

“No, it just seemed rather obvious. Who you sleep with isn’t my business though,” Jungeun said, and you swore there was a hint of jealousy in her tone as she swirled her drink in the dim light and watched the red liquid sloshing around.

Jungeun looked around, unsatisfied at what she saw. Clearly she was used to a higher stand of establishment. Her wine glass was already half-finished, she quickly threw her head back and poured the rest down her mouth, and you can’t say you ever saw someone drink wine like that.

“I’m tired of this place. Let’s get out of here.”

“We just got here-”

“And I know a better place we can go that doesn’t have bad music. ”

“Where exactly would that be?”

“My apartment,” Jungeun replied, flashing seductive bedroom eyes.

“If you were that eager we could have just skipped this part.”

“What, and miss out on a free drink? That’s the only reason I showed up.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking it was because you enjoyed my company.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I-It’s not like I wanted you to fuck me,” Jungeun said, making a show out of fixing her hair as she left her chair and grabbed her purse.

“I’ll meet you outside, thanks for the drink.”

Jungeun became harder to read with every minute you knew her. One minute she was batting her eyes and flirting with you and touching your shoulder, the next she barely seemed interested in you. It didn’t matter too much as you just had a personal invitation to her place and that was your golden ticket. You had barely touched your drink but that didn’t seem as important anymore as you paid your tab and left Heejin a generous tip as always.

“Guess someones getting lucky tonight,” Heejin teased as she waved goodbye, and you weren’t quick sure what you were getting yourself into.

A short ten minute taxi ride and you were following Jungeun up a set of stairs and waiting for her to unlock her apartment door.

“It’s not much, but it’s cozy,” she said as she bent down to remove her heels as you slipped your own shoes off and gently placed them carefully on the ground.

“I’ll give you a quick tour,” she said, gesturing for you to follow her as you took a quick look around. The living room was small but decorated with various paintings and a white leather couch big enough for multiple people, with small black throw pillows on either end. Underneath the glass coffee table was a huge blue rug and a pink makeup pouch left behind.

“Here’s the kitchen. I don’t cook much,” she said as her bare feet walked through black marble tile floors that looked spotless. It wasn’t the fanciest kitchen, but you would have loved to make a meal here sometime. In the center was a small kitchen island and a few stools, the counter wiped clean and a bowl of delicious looking fruit that you couldn’t tell was fake or not.

Jungeun led you past the kitchen as you looked at the various appliances she had gathered, a high-end blender caught your eye that rivaled those you had seen at cafes.

“Here's the bathroom,” she said, a huge assortment of various types of makeup lined the counter, once again perfectly clean as if she was expecting a visitor. Her shower was quite spacious, it was definitely the first time you’d seen one large enough to have two showerheads. The wall was patterned with black tile that contrasted nicely with the rest of the white bathroom.

“Last stop,” Jungeun said as she took several steps ahead of you, giving you the chance to take in her body as her hips swayed and you watched her long legs.

“And this is where you’ll be fucking me,” Jungeun bluntly said as she stopped at her bedroom.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Miss Jungeun.”

“And why’s that?” Jungeun asked as she took a step towards you, closing the distance as she placed her hands on your shoulder.

“Who says I’m going to fuck you here? You’ve got a nice kitchen, a living room…”

Jungeun leaned in and planted a deep kiss on your lips, the taste of her lingering as she pulled back and you could see the lust in her eyes.

“You’re convincing me.”

“Then let me convince you a little more,” she said as she spun around on her heels and walked away from you, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door, leaving her out of sight. She didn’t spend much time inside, dramatically opening the door and came out in a luxurious white bathrobe as she appeared back in view.

“You should have a seat for this,” Jungeun said with a mischievous smile on her features as you did as instructed, taking a seat on her bed and feeling her silk sheets as you leaned back.

Jungeun made sure she had your full attention as she slowly began to untie the cotton belt around her waist, opening up as she draped it off her broad shoulders as it fell to the carpet underneath her.

The sight displayed in front of you was nothing but breathtaking, causing your jaw to drop as Jungeun’s perfect tight body was dressed in the sexiest pair of lacy red lingerie that left very little to the imagination.

“Red looks amazing on you.”

“It happens to be my favorite color,” Jungeun said, as your eyes feasted on her stunning body, unable, nothing could lose your focus. The dark red color contrasted perfectly with her milky skin. Her breasts were pushed up nicely, showing off her wide hips and delicious legs that never seemed to end.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare, or are you going to come touch me?”

That was the only invitation as you lifted your body off the mattress as your hands were practically magnetized to her body. You started at her thighs, feeling how soft they felt against your palms as you moved to her deadly hips, nothing but satisfied at how good they felt to grip.

You couldn’t help yourself one bit as you snaked around her waist and squeezed her ass with both hands, pulling her towards you and grabbing as much as you could, thankful for the fact that Jungeun loved to wear skimpy thongs. Your palms were full of her soft flesh as you kneaded them, giving her beautiful backside a loud slap that echoed and made her gasp.

“F-fuck,” Jungeun said, her words light and airy as you moved to the front of her body, up her toned midriff and up to her chest, squeezing her perky breasts through the annoying piece of fabric keeping you from them.

“Jungeun,” you said with a lowered voice as you tempted her with the idea of kiss, tilting your head as you licked her neck and whispered in her ear.

“I’m dying to fuck you.”

“P-please. You’re making me so wet,” she whimpered desperately as you buried yourself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the soft skin there with no intention to stop. Jungeun was giving herself to you in no time, letting out soft erotic moans as you nibbled on her beautiful neck.

“God, you’re so gorgeous.”

“T-thank you,” Jungeun replied as her cheeks blushed a shade of faded red as she anticipated what was next.

“Can I take this off?” you asked as you slipped a finger underneath one of her bra straps, as it practically screamed to be let loose.

“Y-yes, please take everything off me. I want you to see every inch of me.”

Her voice was just the ticket you needed as you found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it, keeping eye contact with Jungeun as you slipped the thin straps off her shoulders and tossed it out of view.

Your pants tightened as you saw Jungeun’s exposed breasts for the first time, small yet powerfully perky, not unlike Yerim. You gave several teasing licks on her nipples, causing a series of whiny moans to leave her lips as you focused on one breast, pinching the other as your lips slurped and nibbled freely.

“G-god, just fuck me already,” Jungeun begged, and it seemed she didn’t share your patience in wanting to take your time with her.

“You need it that bad?”

“Y-yes. I want you to ruin me,” she said as she looked at you doe-eyed, lips quivering as she wanted to give herself to you fully.

“I’ll be happy to then,” you said as you tilted her chin up and gave her lips one deep tender embrace, rubbing your hand across her soft cheek.

“Hold on, one more thing,” Jungeun said as scurred into her huge walk-in closet and disappeared inside it. She emerged after a few moments with something unseen in her hands as she came back into view.

Jungeun grabbed your wrist and flipped it around, dropping a bundle of red braided rope onto your palm as she shyly smiled.

“What do you expect me to do with this?” you asked, playing dumb as you felt the soft fabric of the rope.

“I want to be tied up and fucked. What else would you do with it?” she asked, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Only if you want to of course,” she added.

“I want to,” you said. You definitely wanted to. You had Heejin to mostly blame for unlocking this side out of you.

You stared into her eyes intently for one intense moment before abruptly grabbing her hips and spinning her around, admiring her naked back and her barely covered asscheeks. Jungeun’s breath hitched as you grabbed her delicate wrists and pulled them behind her back, wrapping them both in beautiful red rope as you bound them together tightly,

“Too tight?” you asked, resting a hand against her toned back and caressing her skin.

“Not at all,” she replied as you spun her back around as your eyes met, and you couldn’t help but smile that Jungeun was now at your mercy. You took advantage of this right away and roamed her body with your hands, squeezing her breasts and moving downward as you brought two fingers against her clothed heat, confirming the wetness of her cunt that was soaking through her panties.

“Safe word?” you asked as pressed two fingers against her clothed core as her legs twitched.

“Eclipse.”

“Good, then let’s get started,” you said as you helped her lower to her knees as she pressed into the carpet as you began undressing, scattering clothes around Jungeun’s body until you were left in your boxers. Your bulge poked through the material desperate to be freed, a stark reminder of the previous day

“Look what you did, Jungeun,” you said with a smirk on your lips, admiring her half-naked body as she was at your whims. Her skin grew warmer as she knelt patiently as you removed your underwear, slick dripping down her thighs and making the only piece of clothing left on even wetter.

Jungeun admired your cock with a hunger like no other as you grabbed it and slapped her pretty face with it, letting her suck your swollen tip for several seconds before removing it, causing a cute pout to form on her features.

“Don’t be greedy,” you said, caressing the side of her cheek and watching the need in her eyes.

You couldn’t help admire how pretty Jungeun was as you rubbed her soft lips with one finger, and without asking she instinctively sucked on your fingers sensually. She had a wanton need for anything inside her mouth as her lips and tongue wrapped around your fingers with the same amount of desire she had given to your cock.

Jungeun slurped hungrily on your fingers as you pushed them in deeper, moving past both knuckles and creating a slow rhythm as she gagged but her eyes begged for more as you felt her warm messy saliva seeping everywhere, making a mess everywhere.

You waited just a little longer, letting Jungeun continuously suckle on your fingers until you felt she had enough, wiping her leftover saliva down her neck and chest as you gave her stiffened rosy nipples one more pinch.

“That’s all you get for now,” you said as you helped her stand upright and lifted her frame onto the bed. Jungeun did what she could to assist as you positioned her on her knees with her ass raised as her face plopped down on the sheets, resting her chin on the mattress.

You took your position behind Jungeun’s bent over body, the thin piece of fabric nestled between her ass being the only barrier between you and nirvana. The flimsy piece of underwear was almost as dark as blood but did little to hide the wet spot soaking through, and it was hard to focus your eyes on a single part of her tight body, or the way her hands were tied behind her back.

Your hands explored Jungeun’s backside, her skimpy thong was a poor excuse to cover up any skin as you fondled her cheeks. You almost didn’t want to remove such a daring garment from her body, it looked too good on her. The thought occurred to push it to the side, giving you the best of both worlds but your animalistic urges took over instead as you grabbed the thin piece of fabric and tore it right off her body.

Jungeun gasped loudly as you tossed the ruined pair of underwear away, every inch of her body now exposed for you and all it took was one look down at her beautiful pink pussy to make your erection even stronger than you thought was possible.

Taking one more look down, Jungeun had already spread her legs for you as you grabbed your shaft and lined it with her entrance, rubbing her pink pussy lips with your swollen tip as you felt her wetness collecting on it.

“P-please, just fuck me, already. Use me!” Jungeun begged, which only motivated you to keep up the teasing, slipping yourself dangerously close to entering her and withdrawing at the last moment just to hear her whimpering moans.

“F-fuck, please!” Jungeun continued to plead, and you felt a hint of pity for her desperation and nudged yourself against her pussy, the heat radiating off her body begging you to enter her.

Just a few more seconds of teasing was all you could take - you needed her just as bad, and in one perfectly smooth movement you popped your hips and entered her, both of you overwhelmed by a hundred different sensations.

“Oh god,” Jungeun said as you moaned simultaneously, watching your tip being swallowed up by her suffocatingly tight pussy. You took a moment to let it all sink in before moving, the initial warmth and wetness surrounding your cock taking your breath away.

You didn’t remember how long you took, it could have been just a few seconds or several minutes to get used to the intense sensations as you started thrusting inside Jungeun, her silky warm flesh clinging tight as you grabbed her hips and found a rhythm, picking up speed gradually.

“F-fuck, your cock feels so good, stretch my pussy out, p-please ruin me!” Jungeun begged, her naked body at your mercy. There wasn’t much point in taking your time when both of you wanted the opposite, Jungeun’s intoxicating warmth enticing you to not keep your sluggish pace for long.

With a bruising grip on her satisfying hips, you no longer felt the need to be gentle with her and intensified your pace with every stroke, bottoming her out every time as her delicious cunt squeezed your throbbing shaft, keeping her pussy plenty filled.

The rhythm grew and grew as did the lust and desire in the room as your hips hurled against Jungeun’s ass, leaving the harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh that was music to your ears.

“P-pound me, f-fucking pound my pussy,” Jungeun said, her words now muffled into her pillows as your pistoning hips gave powerful thrusts as deep as you could fit your cock.

“I need to hear you, Jungeun. You’re so wet, you like being fucked like this?” you asked, grabbing a rough handful of golden hair and tangling it around your fingers, tugging back on it harshly to free her head from the comfort of her pillows.

“F-fuck yes, please keep using me!”

Her lustful words washed away any worries you were being too rough with her as you gripped a fistful of hair tighter, keeping her head upright as her pussy clenched in approval. Jungeun moaned even louder as your vigorous thrusts continued, her juices spilling out of her cunt so freely as the arousal was heavy in the air.

Jungeun’s moans turned into loud husky screams as you kept a handful of pretty hair clenched, pounding into her hole carelessly as you glanced down at her bound wrists and releasing one of your hands from her hips and without warning slapped her tight ass.

Her flesh rippled hypnotically, encouraging another slap to her behind on the other side as her walls pulsated in response.

“Harder, make it hurt,” Jungeun said, a mixture of demanding and begging and you weren’t going to back down as you winded back your arm and swung hard against her cheeks, the delicious echo of your palm striking her cheeks until the color began to match the restraints around her tied wrist.

Jungeun let out deep satisfied moans after each smack against her now tender flesh, the clench of her cunt matching the rhythm of your forceful strikes of her backside. The color of her cheeks grew darker and tears formed in her eyes from such pleasurable pain. WIth every few slaps you gave her sensitive red flesh a squeeze, rubbing out the sting until you upped the impact of flesh on flesh.

Your only regret was you were unable to see the satisfaction in Jungeun’s gorgeous eyes, but if the way her pussy was dripping all over your cock you knew she was loving every second of it.

Giving Jungeun’s bright red cheeks a break, you used your hands to explore what skin you had access to, running your hands up and down her back, feeling the sweat dripping off it as you fucked her mercilessly, the hard smack of the headboard slamming into the wall with every thrust.

“Does that feel good, Jungeun? Do you like being fucked like a little slut?”

“Y-yes, I love when you fuck me like a toy, please don’t stop,” Jungeun said with strangled words, too lost in the pleasure to think of anything else.

You released the grip on her hair, letting strands fall to her shoulders that stuck to her sweaty back as you prepared for your next step, grabbing her hips and pushing her down until she was flat on her stomach and her knees pressed into the sheets.

Your thrusts came fast and loose as your legs were spread onto either side of Jungeun's body as you fucked her senseless in this position, able to achieve a deeper sense of penetration that drove you crazy.

It didn't take long to become unhinged, your pace wild and reckless as you held on to the sides of her ass for leverage, slamming repeatedly without any concern as the room filled up with her needy moans.

"Oh my god, you're so deep! Fuck me just like this, please fuck me just this, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Jungeun's cries threw gasoline on the flames of passion as you used more power in your hips, and you were content to make sure she couldn't walk for a week as you railed her into the mattress.

You swore the bed was about to give out, and you didn't give a damn and only focused on the hot dripping flesh you were spearing yourself into.

"You fuck me so well, holy shit! I'm so close!"

“Good, cum for me you greedy slut. Cum all over this fucking cock,” you said, as sweat drenched your forehead, the air in the room growing harder to take in. Jungeun could barely remember where she was, her mouth constantly agape as drool spilled out of her lips, moaning breathlessly as the fire in her abdomen grew and grew.

“Ah! I-I’m cumming!” Jungeun said, barely able to form words at this point, powerless to do anything else. Her pussy pulsated uncontrollably around your shaft as you kept the same relentless pace as she creamed all over you, the warm flood of juices spilling onto your crotch as she came hard, toes curling behind you and her thighs visibly shaking.

Jungeun let out a slew of profanities as her orgasm hit her like a train, and you didn’t let up one second and fucked her through every intense second, the loss of her limbs to grab hold of anything drove her insane as her labored breathing filled your eardrums, every moment of pleasure almost causing her to black out.

“H-holy shit,” Jungeun managed to say as her high gradually faded, the aftershocks in her body firing off every so often that she could hardly catch a breath, her thighs flushed and stained with slick, overflowing on her silk sheets underneath your sweaty bodies.

Jungeun’s wonderful orgasm came to a close, and now it was your turn as you grabbed her bound wrists and held them tight, steering yourself towards your much needed bliss as you gave it your all. Her pussy was so deliciously wet after her climax, lubricating your harsh movements inside her thoroughly fucked cunt and sending spikes of pleasure everywhere throughout your body.

You gave her the final pounding she deserved, her pussy stuffed with every inch of hard flesh as you moved furiously inside her, wringing out all the pleasure out of her body that you could take until you felt that familiar and welcome tightness in your core that signaled the end.

“Jungeun, I’m about to fucking cum,” you growled, endlessly fucking into her warm hole to coerce your orgasm on a path to pleasure with no brakes.

“Cum wherever, on me or in me, please just cum for me,” Jungeun said, and you took no time to figure out just where you wanted to do that.

Savoring the final moments, you gave a few more hammering thrusts into Jungeun’s body before you withdrew from her warmth, pulling her up and helping her off to the side of the bed as she took position on her knees, her arms still tied behind her as she anxiously awaited the finale.

You had Jungeun just where you wanted her as she had the biggest grin on her features as you stroked your cock from base to tip, and she knew just where your load was going and licked her lips.

“Are you going to paint my face?” she asked, already knowing the answer as you stroked furiously in response, planning on using her as your canvas.

“Give me your cum, please cum on my face, please. Cover me in your thick load, please please please, cum all over my face, I need it so fucking bad,” Jungeun desperately begged, her needy words being the one last thing that set you off.

It took less than a few strokes for you to erupt as you unloaded all over Jungeun’s gorgeous face. You let out loud satisfied groans and fired your first thick shot of cum that landed on her forehead, ending up in her disheveled hair.

You emptied your balls all over her cheeks, her full lips, her cute nose and chin as you squeezed out every last drop, not letting anything go to waste as her face was covered in pearly white, the look of satisfaction in her eyes as you were drained.

Jungeun licked what she could, frustrated with her hands still tied up and out of commission as the mess you had just deposited on her stunning face began to drip down slowly, spilling off her chin and onto her chest as you collected yourself and tried to regain your breath.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Jungeun leaned forward as you guided your cock one more time into her mouth as she cleaned you off, gently sucking your sensitive tip dry with your load staining her face. You took one more moment to admire your handiwork before untying her wrists.

“You okay?” you asked as she regained the use of her hands, the first thing she did with them was to stroke your softening cock, giving one more wet kiss.

“I’m great now,” she said, heavily breathing as you exchanged tired smiles.

“You really covered me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a huge load,” Jungeun giggled as you sat on the edge of the bed, nearly collapsing on it.

“I only have you to blame for that,” you said.

“I’ll go get cleaned up. You can join me if you want, or you can rest here. Either way you better be ready for another round,” she said, slow to stand upright as she turned into her now ever familiar pose, her hands on her hips with a stern look in her eyes.

“You’re insatiable, Jungeun,” you said, still struggling to find your breath again.

“N-no, I’m not. It’s not like I enjoyed your cock inside me,” she scoffed, spinning on her heels as she disappeared into her bathroom.

You still felt the tingles of your intense climax as you looked around the room, sinking into the sheets and wondered what else she Jungeun wanted, or rather what she wanted you to do to her.

You’d just have to be patient and find out.

#loona smut #kim lip smut #loona #kim lip #reader insert #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kim jungeun #kimberly lippington

406 notes · View notes

digital-dhampirs · 3 years ago

Text

vnc episode 12 thoughts

The thrilling conclusion to the Vanitas no Carte anime’s first cour is out, and I have thoughts! I’m still considering doing a full season/ fill cour review, but I have a Lot of episode 12- specific opinions, so this review / breakdown / thing will focus around e12!

A warning before we begin— review will contain spoilers for events that take place in the vnc manga and not in the anime, and will most likely spoil some sections of the anime’s next cour. With that, let’s get started!

Episode 12 of the VnC anime covers chapters 19, 21, 22, and 23 of the manga.

To begin this review in a brutally honest way, this episode was… in my opinion as a manga reader… bad. It did have some ok moments, but generally devoted a lot of its time to a plotline that (while adorable) isn’t actually super important compared to what was left on the wayside. Vanitas and Noé’s fight over blood drinking is fine, I guess, but why’d we get that minute long flashback compilation and not Dante’s conversation with Dominique, or Roland and Olivier’s complete conversation, or Astolfo’s excitement to hunt vampires, or Mikhail?

I really truly wish the show had taken some of the money and time that went into the Vanitas and Noé fight from chapter 23 and put it into the arguably much more important and interesting parts of this episode. Ruthven drinking Noé’s blood, Roland’s threat, and Chloé and Astolfo’s introductions all had some very janky stills and animations. It truly irked me to see that time and effort went into making Noé’s mouth move while he’s mentally monologuing about wanting to drink Vanitas’s blood, while Roland’s fantastic threat from Chapter 22 got… this. click on image for worse quality

The episode also decided to continue E11’s habit of chopping scenes up and mashing them together. In E11 this was a very not great decision, but was ultimately somewhat forgiveable from a tone point of view. In E12, meanwhile, it’s just all out chaos as the anime tries to string five completely separate scenes into something coherent (Noé and Vanitas in the hotel, Ruthven and Jeanne in the street, Domi and Dante on the stairs, Roland and Olivier in the chasseur compound, and a flashback to complete the Ruthven and Noé encounter from E11). Suffice it to say the anime does not succeed in this endeavor.

What really irritates me about this is that the manga already provided a framework for the anime to work these scenes together into. A frantic Vanitas reunites with Noé, Ruthven meets Jeanne in the street, Roland and Olivier speak about the beast, we see a mysterious flashback of Chloé calling for Jeanne as they talk, cut to Jeanne in the present as Dante and Ruthven’s attendants simultaneously tell Ruthven and Vanitas about the beast’s return.

I really wish the anime could’ve just given us the conclusion to the Ruthven scene at the start of the episode, done the OP, and then followed this series of events to a T. But it didn’t, and the result is a bit of a mess.

The anime’s choice to omit half of Roland and Olivier’s conversation means Dante’s announcement about the beast being back has no meaning or weight; Vanitas running to the hotel before we know what actually happened to Noé at the cafe ruins the drama and irony of the scene; Noé’s lack of memory of what happened at the cafe is muddled by the weirdly placed cafe flashback right afterwards; the anime putting Olivier’s “what that man believes in isn’t god” line seconds before the reveal of Roland’s intelligent and scheming nature doesn’t give the line enough room to breathe and stew; and the transition scene with Domi and Dante just doesn’t fit. I can honestly say I would have preferred Dante just teleporting from the streets of Paris to Vani and Noé’s windowsill than have that scene smack dab in the middle of what’s already a confusing mishmash of way too many unconnected events.

Wow. That was a long, critical paragraph. one might even say it was just as chaotic and disorganized as the episode itself. I feel like I’m really living up to my fullest potential as a bitter manga simp. So! Let’s turn things around and talk about some of the good parts of this episode!!

First and foremost I want to compliment this episode’s music..! The soundtrack of VnC is just all round fantastic no matter what— whether it’s playing during a goofy scene or a fight, it’s is bound to be fantastic. I think my favorite pieces are the ones that play at quiet, ominous moments— the music during Vanitas and Dante’s conversation about the beast is excellent, adding something truly incredible to the atmosphere created by the illustrations of the beast and the eerie green light of the scene. The way the music lines up with Olivier’s “what that man believes in…” line during that one flashback is similarly awesome.

This episode also has very nice voice acting..! Despite all of its struggles in the visual and plot department, pretty much everything to do with the VnC anime’s audio is stellar. I’ve become a big fan of Jeanne, Roland, and Olivier’s voices (I can’t wait to see how Olivier’s VA works with all his screaming in the Gévaudan arc); Astolfo’s voice is perfect for him (I am similarly excited to see his clipped, polite tone take a turn for the insane as the Gévaudan arc moves forwards); and as always our protagonists’ voices are great.

My one singular problem with the voice acting this episode is Chloé. I don’t know why, but she sounds like a catgirl from a fantasy anime rather than a multiple- centuries- old vampire. I don’t know what I was expecting from her voice, but this wasn’t it. I really hope Chloé’s voice will grow on me like Roland’s did, but there’s just something about it that feels off to me.

However! That one detriment doesn’t detract from the fact that this episode does have some very beautiful moments, especially during that one last scene with Chloé at the end. Visually, Chloé is absolutely spot on— I only hope the show has the budget to keep giving her pretty, pretty scenes like this. The scene where Vanitas and Dante discuss the beast is also very very nice to look at. The monochromatic red section of Ruthven and Noé’s scene is excellent. And, while I’m still annoyed that this scene got so much love put into it and others did not, Noé’s spotlight-lit monologue is aesthetically pleasing as well.

With that, we’ve covered all of my main thoughts on the final episode of the vnc anime’s first cour! My feelings towards this episode’s plot and pacing are overwhelmingly critical, and the episode’s visuals are a toss up (leaning on the side of bad, @/ that Roland screenshot), b u t the episode’s music and voice acting are both fantastic. And honestly? That’s kinda how I feel about this whole cour of the anime.

Episode 12 might not have been “good”, but I believe it’s a very neat representation of the best and worst of what Vanitas no Carte as an anime has to offer.

Despite all my critiques I am still legally obligated to love this anime, and can’t wait to see the Gévaudan arc in the next cour!

Fun Fact

The weirdly technological background when Noé realizes he’s hungry makes absolutely no sense for an anime set in 1889, but for some reason that just makes this scene funnier to me

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc #vnc anime #vanitas no karte #vnc spoilers #that Roland screenshot actually made me laugh until I cried #i was physically incapable of taking that catacombs scene seriously #i wish i had the Japanese comprehension skills necessary to watch it with my eyes closed #one extra compliment to go with that critical take: the anime’s omission of Mira makes a lot of sense and i support it #she’s only appeared once in the manga so far and didn’t really add anything to the scene she was in #however…… /shakes anime/ you mean to tell me you’re including Loki and not Mikhail

76 notes · View notes

crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

Text

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!! (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names , @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up.

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew.

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture.

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love.

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames.

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in.

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him.

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though.

“That would be nice,” He said softly.

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces.

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway.

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower.

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights.

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it.

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about.

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around.

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though.

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head.

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers.

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive.

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death.

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be.

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep.

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

“What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants.

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask.

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape.

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away.

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--”

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins.

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid.

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away.

“Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed.

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that?

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top.

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside.

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.”

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made.

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.”

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it.

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun.

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet.

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways.

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it.

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine.

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back.

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet.

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear.

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him.

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face.

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime.

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x reader #wandavision #xmen fanfiction #xmen

299 notes · View notes

study-coffee-chicago · 4 years ago

Text

Who Would've Thought? A Government Teacher and an English Teacher (A Halstead Brothers + Upstead + Halstead Daughter! Imagine; Part of AU-gust)

A/N: Thank you for reading! Remember to like/reblog and comment! I'm also donating all the proceeds that from my buy me a coffee account to Save The Children to help the children of Afghanistan. Link to buy me a coffee.

Anyway, enjoy!

"Hey, I know you aren't a morning person," your dad said as he walked up to you sitting at the bar in the kitchen with a piece of paper in his hand.

"You're right, I'm not," you said.

"All I need is for you to look over the seating chart I made for the juniors."

"Make sure you didn't put people who have beef next to each other?" you asked.

"Exactly. And I figured, since it's your class, you'd be the perfect person to do it."

"And because I'm your daughter."

"That, too."

He set the paper in front of you. "Since I'm doing this for you, care to make me my coffee?" you asked

"The pumpkin spice one?" You nodded. "Kid, it's the first week of September. It's like 75 out (23.9 celsius). Fall's not even close. And, technically, it's still summer."

"Listen, Dunkin' came out with their pumpkin spice stuff in mid-August. And, you know the minute it hits September, I get in the fall mood."

"But you still won't go to a Bears game with me and your Uncle Will," he said.

"Dad, I don't understand football."

He pulled the K-Cup out and put it in the Keurig. "I told you that me and Uncle Will could teach you. And, you seem to understand it when you're at school football games."

"I just cheer when everyone else does. It's not that hard."

"Fair enough."

He pointed to the counter of the bar, so you looked down at the seating chart. You waved him back over to you as you heard the sputtering of the Keurig, telling you that all your coffee was almost in your tumbler.

You pointed to two seats. "These two girls have had beef since middle school, so throw them across the room from each other." Your dad grabbed a pen from his breast pocket and drew a line to put one of the girls on the opposite side of the room. "These two are dating, so unless you want them talking all the time, I suggest you at least move the guy to a different group." He drew another line on the seating chart. "And this guy dated these two girls, so you need to make sure that they're as far away from each other as possible."

"Which one is he dating now?" your dad asked as he drew more lines.

"Neither. He was dating both of them at the same time. Get why none of them can be by each other now?"

"Gotcha."

He took the seating chart from you and handed you your tumbler of coffee. "I don't drink it black," you said as you raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, believe me, I know, but I'll leave you to do that because I don't want to mess up your coffee to creamer ratio and have you get mad at me for it."

"Fair enough."

You sighed as you poured your creamer into your coffee because you thought about all the homework that was going to be piled on to your plate this year.

"What's wrong?" your dad asked.

"I'm gonna be drowning at the end of today."

"Can't argue with you there. But tell me if you think your homework load for APUSH (AP US History) and AP Gov (AP Government) is getting too much for one class. I'll talk to the teachers. And, you have me to help you with your government homework." He said the last part with a huge smile on his face.

"Dad," you groaned. "You've been waiting for me to be a junior forever now just so you could be my teacher."

"Yup, and you chose AP over me. How rude."

"Sorry, but college is expensive. It was only like 50 bucks a class when you went to college back in the olden days."

"Young lady, I am not old."

"Fine, you're vintage. Better?" He just glared at you while you finished stirring your coffee and then started making your breakfast. "But, at least Hail- Miss Upton doesn't give us a ton of homework because she knows we're drowning in homework already and have the SATs to worry about, so that's nice."

You were super thankful for your Honors English 11 teacher, who also taught AP Stats. She gave you at least half an hour each class period to do your homework since she knew that most of you had sports or after-school clubs or a part job to get to and didn't have all night to do homework. She was the one who also said to send her an email if you couldn't get the assignment done and she'd give you an extension. She said that your physical health and mental health were way more important than you finishing your homework.

Your dad was like that, too. Granted, he didn't give the students in his class a ton of homework to begin with, and he made the class fun...at least, that's what you heard from the kids who were juniors last year. The only time your dad really gave homework was when he gave out study guides to fill out. He'd give them out a week before the test and then after two days, he'd check that everyone got them done and go over them in class so that everyone had the right answers to study from. Mr. Jay Halstead also didn't give tests on a Monday because that was just cruel...and he knew that when he was in high school, he absolutely hated homework, so he didn't give a lot of it. And, he hated coming to school on a Monday when he forgot to study over the weekend, so he didn't give tests on Mondays.

"You're not going running this morning?" you asked as you cut up a banana to go into your oatmeal.

"No, I think I'll run with you guys after school today at practice."

Your dad was also the high school cross country coach. You weren't a fast runner by any means, but your best friend, Emma, had made it to regionals and was a great runner. And, your dad said that you either play a sport in high school or you get a job, so you joined the cross country team. In all honesty, you liked running for the endorphin rush it gave you after the run and just talking to some of your teammates while running or listening to music or podcasts while running. But, you weren't competitive, so that's probably why you weren't as fast as Emma, and your dad knew this. But, he was just glad you were being active in some way after school and that you enjoyed exercising even if you weren't the best or the fastest runner. He just wanted you to live a long and healthy life, and he knew starting to exercise in high school would help you build those healthy habits.

But, usually what your dad did in the morning was go to school at like six in the morning, so he'd be up at five, and then he'd utilize the weight room or the indoor track to workout. Then, he'd take a quick shower and get ready there, and be teaching by 7:30. Yeah, he was crazy for running that early.

"You know," you started, "Miss Upton likes to run. Maybe you should see if she'll co-coach with you? Or maybe she'll run with you in the morning?"

Jay shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. "Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you that Hailey and I are just friends. Nothing more."

"Says the man who lesson planned with her last week," you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Y/N, she's a coworker. I would've done that with anyone. It was just coffee. You read too much into things."

"Dad," you sighed. "You haven't dated in years."

"Yeah, since Abby dropped you off on my doorstep." He used to refer to Abby as your mom, but she wasn't around, so when you were around 14 years old, you just started referring to her as Abby. After all, you had never even met the woman, and she didn't want you, not even leaving an address on the note attached to your pajamas, so she didn't deserve the title of Mom.

"So, 17 years. You haven't dated in 17 years, Dad. You gotta get back out there. Even Uncle Will said you need to."

"You talked to your uncle about this?" he asked. "Oh, and put some egg whites in that oatmeal for some extra protein."

"What? You gonna make us lift weights today at cross country practice?"

He shrugged. "You never know. Now, no more talking to Uncle Will about my love life."

"There's not even anything to talk about. But, he does think you and Miss Upton would look cute together."

You added some egg whites to your oatmeal and put it back in the microwave for an extra minute.

"This has been going on for way too long now, Y/N. We're not gonna date. We're just friends and coworkers. Just drop it."

You put your hands up in mock surrender.

Ever since freshman year when you had Miss Upton for creative writing (yes, she taught one section of AP stats, one section of creative writing, and she also taught Honors English 11 and regular English 11 for the rest of her sections), you knew that her and your dad would be a great match. So, you confided in Emma and she agreed. Ever since then, you hadn't really let the topic go.

"Fine," you groaned...even though you and your dad both knew that the topic would not be dropped in the slightest.

"Now, do you want me to drive you, or do you want to drive yourself?"

Usually, since he left before you, you'd just drive yourself to school since you were 17 and had been driving for a year now. But, during the first week of school, your dad didn't do his morning workouts, so he always gave you the option if you wanted to ride to school with him.

You pursed your lips. "Fine. I'll ride with you, just cause it'll save me gas."

Jay laughed. "You're not even the one who pays for your gas."

He was right. He was the one who paid for your gas because you had always studied hard...and you played a sport, so you didn't have time for a part-time job. Because of this, Jay decided he'd pay for your gas. But, you did have to work a part-time job in the summer.

"Fine. It prolongs the time before I have to go to the gas station. How's that?" you asked.

"Miss Upton would be proud of how you worded that."

"Maybe you should tell her that, Dad. It'd be a great conversation starter."

***

"So," Emma began as you were warming up for your run after the school day ended, "how'd the chat with your dad go?"

You sighed while jogging. "I don't think it's ever gonna happen. He's too damn stubborn to ask her out and he claims that they're just friends and coworkers. I hate it. They'd be so damn cute together."

"I know," Emma agreed. "You know, I overheard her in the hallway between classes saying that she was going to chaperone the homecoming dance. Maybe your dad could get in on that and that's how they could talk more?" she suggested.

"Emma, that's a great idea, but I really don't want my dad at homecoming. That is awkward as hell."

Emma laughed. "Sorry, didn't think about that."

"Hustle up!" your dad yelled. "Time to stretch!"

You started your normal stretching routine before your dad started to give his normal beginning of the school year speech. "Alright, I need all of you to listen up. I don't want anybody talking over me, you hear me?" You all nodded. "Okay, good. So, I know that some of you have heard horror stories about the old cross country coach who said that if you miss a practice, then you miss a meet...unless it was for being sick." Most of you nodded.

Before your dad started coaching and the other cross country coach retired, a lot of the students hated the previous coach's coaching style. His coaching style was run more to get better at running...which sounded good in theory. But, this didn't actually work. You see, what would end up happening was that he'd make the runs longer and longer. He'd even make the athletes do a long run on Saturday and then a short run (which to him was three miles) on Sunday. If an athlete didn't send him the screenshots from apps like map my run, then they wouldn't be able to race in the next meet. This obviously was a recipe for overtraining and injuries. You heard that one girl even hurt her IT band from running so much! So, it was no surprise that most people hated the coach and so many parents complained, so he stepped down, and then your dad came in to coach.

"That's not how I coach," your dad continued. "School and your grades are really important. So is sleep. I don't want you guys not getting sleep or not getting to spend time with friends or not have other social interactions because you have to practice for two hours and then go home and do homework and get to bed late. I don't want you guys to be sleep-deprived zombies." Most of you laughed at that. "With that being said, if you're overwhelmed and feel like there's not enough time in a day, just come talk to me and we'll figure it out. Whether that's only coming to practice for an hour or taking a few days off to study for an upcoming test or taking time off for a family emergency, we'll figure out what to do." Everyone nodded. "Alright everybody, let's go run the big loop. Keep track of your split times."

***

You were walking inside with Emma to go grab your stuff from your locker after you had finished practice. Perks of having your dad be a teacher? You and your friend could leave your stuff inside instead of bringing it outside with you.

"Just meet me in my room when you're done, Y/N," your dad told you. "Have a good night, Emma."

"You too, Mr. Halstead," she replied.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jay when it's not school or practice hours?" Jay smiled and then walked down the hall to his classroom to retrieve the stuff he had brought with him for the day...with his shirt sticky from sweat since he had run with you guys today.

He walked out of his classroom with his backpack and gym bag, to come face to face with Miss Hailey Upton walking out of her classroom as well.

"Run with the team today, Jay?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know, first week of school, kind of hard to get my early morning runs in when there's so much to do on the classroom side," he answered.

"Understandable. I've been doing mine after I lesson plan and before dinner. Hopefully, I'll be back to nightly runs soon before it starts getting dark earlier and earlier."

"But, when it gets too dark, then you'll be running in the mornings soon...and then it'll be cold," Jay pointed out.

"There's this thing called a treadmill, Jay. I utilize that in the winter."

"That shows that you're an English teacher: you use big words."

Hailey rolled her eyes. "I see you reading books during your lunch period. I know you know big words, you just prefer not to use them."

"Yeah, because I want the kids to think I'm a cool teacher...not a snob."

"I am not a snob!" Hailey jokingly argued.

"I'm kidding, Hailey! I'm kidding! And, I know you lesson plan and grade on your lunch break, too instead of going to the teacher's lounge."

"Spying on me now, huh?"

"Our rooms are right across from each other and we have the same lunch period, what else am I supposed to do?" he laughed.

Hailey sighed dramatically. "Oh, I guess. Tell you what: come to my room during our lunch period and I can give you some good book recommendations."

"I get enough book recommendations from my daughter, thank you very much. But, I guess I can always use more."

"So, see you during tomorrow's lunch period?"

"See you then. Have a good night, Hailey."

"You, too. Tell Y/N I say hi and not to work too hard on all her homework."

Then, they walked down the hallway and Jay walked back towards where you were still chatting with Emma. All the while, he was thanking God that you weren't there during that conversation between him and Hailey because he wouldn't hear the end of it. But, he was also wondering what the hell he'd just gotten into.

***

"You will not believe what I just saw!" Emma whispered to you the next day in your AP gov class.

"What?" you whispered back.

She had forgotten her laptop in her locker and had to go get it. Which, the route to her locker from the classroom you were currently in went right past your dad and Hailey's classrooms.

"Your dad and Miss Upton are in her classroom eating lunch together."

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. "No way!"

You received a glare from the teacher and were quiet. But, you'd be sure to ask your dad about this when you went home tonight.

***

"Uncle Will's coming over for dinner in an hour," your dad told you when you got inside your house after practice. You had decided to drive yourself to school today instead of riding with him. "How much homework do you have?"

"Uh..." you blanched and set down your backpack and unzipped it. Then, you grabbed your planner and flipped it open, laying it out on the kitchen table. "I have an AP stats worksheet that's due tomorrow, I have to read half a chapter in my AP bio textbook by Monday, I have to read a full chapter of my AP gov textbook by Tuesday, and I have an APUSH assignment due tomorrow. Oh, and I should probably read a chapter of the book I chose to read for my English class plus I have to annotate a few paragraphs of crappy 16th-century literature by tomorrow, too."

"Christ," your dad said. "So, what do you have to do tonight?"

"AP stats worksheet, APUSH assignment, and I have to annotate for English. I could always not read the chapter in the book I chose to read if I don't want to."

"Do you want me to just tell Uncle Will to come over this weekend?" he asked.

Jay know knew you absolutely loved his brother and that you were always excited to tell him about your day and how school was going. It had always been this way because, when Jay found you on his doorstep, he was 22, and had just started undergrad and was working on his teaching degree. Because of this, when Will wasn't studying in his last two years of med school and later working in a hospital as a new resident, he was your go-to babysitter. And you absolutely loved when he came over...despite not being able to remember much because you were so young. Apparently, you had been particularly fascinated by Will's red hair and would pull on it every chance you got. But, he'd let you play with it until it really started to hurt him because you were his favorite (and only) niece and he knew he'd do anything for you. This came in handy as you got older because you realized you had him wrapped around your finger and would always ask him for homework help. Or, if your dad wouldn't give you spending money, you'd go straight to your Uncle Will, and usually, he'd give you some.

"No," you answered. "A doctor needs to know stats, right?"

"I think so," your dad answered. "Why? Are you struggling already? Do you need to go into the regular stats class instead of the advanced one?"

You laughed at your dad's concern. "No, I'm fine. Just figured he'd be able to check it for me to make sure I did everything right."

"Oh, good. And, I'm pretty sure he can do that. Now, go take a shower so you can get started on your homework before he gets here and so I can start on dinner."

***

"Guess what?" you asked as all three of you twirled your spaghetti onto your forks at the dinner table an hour later.

"Chicken butt," Will said.

Jay rolled his eyes. "I swear, I wonder if Mom and Dad were lying when they said that you were older. Maybe I'm the older one and they just lied to us because you sure do act like the younger brother."

"Relax, Jay. Just because I'm more fun than you and Y/N likes me better, does not mean that I'm immature."

"Anyway," you said, wanting to tell Will what you had found out earlier today, "do you want to know what I have to say or not?"

"Go ahead," Will said.

"Okay, so today during AP gov, Emma had to back to her locker to grab her laptop. And she went right by Dad and Miss Upton's classrooms." You paused as you looked over at your dad and saw his eyes slightly widen and then go back to normal. "And they were eating lunch together in her classroom!"

"Awe," Will cooed. "My little brother's back on the market. Good for you, man." Then, he turned to you. "Upton's the short, blonde English teacher you've been trying to set him up with for years now, right?"

"He's not supposed to know about the set-up part!" you hissed.

"Oh, sorry. Jay, forget I said that."

"Y/N, I already you've been trying to set us up," your dad laughed. "It's been kind of obvious."

"Now that that's settled," Will started, "how'd it go? What did you two talk about? And are you having lunch together tomorrow?"

"You two are terrible, you know that?"

"Oh, we know," Will said. "But, you can't ground me, so I can be as terrible as I want."

Jay laughed. "She won't get grounded for that, Will. She might get grounded if she keeps procrastinating her stats homework, though."

"Need help, kiddo?" Will asked. "I have to read stats for things like new drugs and stuff, so I'm good at that. Don't know if I can help you with actually solving the problem because it's been ages since I've done that, but I can try."

"No, thanks, though. I just took a long shower so I have to get it done after dinner. I understand it all, though."

"Good, you can always come to me if you need help with it, though," Will offered. "Or, since it's Miss Upton--" He looked directly at Jay when he said Miss Upton and then turned his attention back to you. "--who's your stats teacher, you can always ask her. But, be sure to drag your dad along with you."

"Will!"

***

Two weeks later

"Might want to tell them to drink a ton of water after this, Jay, because it's so hot," Hailey Upton said as she walked up to Jay Halstead--and Coach Halstead for the next few hours--at an away cross country meet on a Wednesday afternoon in mid-September. "Or better yet, get them some Gatorade."

"Hailey?" Jay asked as he turned around, getting his stopwatch ready. "What are you doing here? And, I'd get them Gatorade if I could. I kinda forgot to pick it up last night."

"I'm here because some kids asked me to come to their meet. And, I always try to come to those things if kids ask me."

Jay cocked an eyebrow. "Would two of those kids be my daughter and her best friend?"

"Among others."

He looked down at the rolling cooler she had brought. "What's with the cooler?"

"Well, you may not have had time to pick up Gatorade, but I did. So, there's one in there for each kid plus the coach...and me of course."

"How'd you know Gatorade would help?" Jay asked. "Other than logic of course."

Hailey laughed. "I've run a few marathons in my life, Jay. I know all about proper hydration and how important it is to refuel after a hot run."

At this, Jay raised his eyebrows. He knew that she ran, but she didn't know that she ran marathons. "Oh, wow. Which ones?"

"You know, the Chicago marathon obviously. Always wanted to do like Boston or someplace, but you have to qualify for those, you can't just go and sign up like here in Chicago. Oh, and I've always wanted to do a Disney marathon. I think it'd be cool, you know? Run through Disney World, maybe hop on some rides during the race."

Jay smiled. "That actually does sound really fun."

The announcer said that it was ten minutes until it was time to race.

"I gotta get to the first mile marker," Jay said.

"Okay, where's our tent? I'll go put this cooler under it."

Jay told Hailey where the tent was and was about to leave when she stopped him.

"Where do I get the maps? I can go to the second mile marker to help out with times in case you can't get there fast enough," she suggested.

"That'd, uh, that'd actually be great, Hailey. Thank you. And, you just get the maps from the table right over there," Jay answered and pointed to a table about 200 meters away.

"Awesome, thanks. See you after the race, Coach," Hailey joked.

Jay nodded and started to jog off toward the first mile marker. But, all the while he wondered what the hell this woman was doing to him. Because he felt his cheeks heating up in a blush as he jogged off.

And, as for Hailey, well she was watching as Jay jogged away and loved the way he ran with perfect form and how his biceps flexed just enough that she could see the muscles slightly bulge.

She laughed to herself. If they ever went running together, she'd have to tell him to loosen up because you weren't supposed to run with your arms as taut as his were; he was wasting energy.

But, for now, she just made her way over to the tent and left the cooler and then went to get a map and start off toward the second mile marker to help out a fellow teacher...well, maybe he was starting to be more than just a fellow teacher. Neither of them really knew at this point. But, Hailey liked the thrill of it all. She felt like she was in high school again...a high school student, not a high school teacher.

***

You panted and winced as you crossed the finish line. Shit, your shin splints were really acting up this time, and God, it was so hot out and you felt nauseous and even had to walk during some points of the race. We'll see what your dad had to say about that.

Wait, was that Miss Upton coming up to you?

It is! She actually came!

"Y/N, are you okay? I saw you walking," she said worriedly while your dad jogged over since you were the last one on your team to finish.

"You good, kid?" your dad asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. My shin splints just hurt really bad and I think the heat's making me feel sick."

"Okay, well, I have to go watch the boys and make sure they're ready. Hailey, can you, uh, help Y/N? The medical tent's across from here. Maybe make sure she gets under our team tent without puking and get her something to drink?"

"I can do that, Jay, don't worry."

Emma walked up to you. "Good job!" she exclaimed.

"Girl, I didn't even run as fast as you! You flew through there. But, it's hot as hell!" you said.

"It is really hot. You gonna watch the guys' race?"

"No, Dad told me to sit under our tent in the shade. Gotta get some ice for my shins first, though."

"Shin splints acting up?"

"Yeah."

Then, you, Miss Upton, and Emma walked over to the medical tent where you got bags of ice wrapped around your shins.

***

"I'll run to Mcdonald's and get you ice, too," your dad said before you got in your separate cars back at school after the meet. "What do you want?"

"Uh, a ten-piece nugget--don't forget the honey mustard--a medium fry, and a medium lemonade," you said as your dad typed it into the notes app of his phone. "Thanks."

"I'll see you at home. Drive careful."

"See you in like half an hour."

Then you drove home and decided to start on some homework while still in your sweaty cross country uniform.

When your dad got home, you gobbled down your food because damn, you were hungry after that mentally taxing race. Then, you and your dad filled the bathtub up with ice and cold water.

Time for hell...aka an ice bath. At this point, you'd do anything to prevent your shin splints from getting bad. At least the old coach wasn't coaching because, from all the horror stories you heard, it'd be worse for your shins if he was coaching and not your dad.

After you changed into a pair of spandex shorts and a long-sleeved running shirt and a hoodie, you lowered yourself into the freezing and icy water. You set your phone timer for eight minutes and braved the cold for that long.

Then, after that, you drained the bathtub and took a very hot shower. But, as you were in there, you started feeling nauseous again. You crouched down and actually ended up throwing up a bit in the shower. It was nothing major, you just figured it was from eating too fast. But, you were still really tired.

And this is what you told your dad when you got out of the shower.

"But, I still have homework," you said defeatedly. "I kinda wanna just go to sleep now. It's already 7:00 and I have at least two to four hours of homework to do."

Jay sighed. He never wanted to play this game, but he wasn't going to let you run on not enough sleep tomorrow when you weren't even feeling your best.

"What classes?" he asked.

"Uh, I have to get APUSH done which will take me like at least two hours, and then I have English and stats homework," you answered.

Jay sighed. "I'll give Hailey a call and explain the situation and see if she'll give you an extension on the English and stats homework."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, now go grab some water and get started on your APUSH homework. And.. it will only be a one day extension."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best Dad ever!"

Then, you grabbed your water and went back upstairs to your room.

But, all you could think about was that your dad and Miss Upton were talking over the phone outside of school. Maybe they were becoming more than just co-workers.

Jay dialed Hailey's phone number and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"Jay?" she asked when she answered.

"Hi, Hailey. Yeah, it's Jay. Listen I have a huge favor to ask you," he said.

"What is it?"

"So Y/N puked a bit in the shower, probably because of the amount of sodium in those damn chicken nuggets she wanted, and then she took an ice bath and then a hot shower, so the quick and significant temperature change probably played a role. Anyway, how it happened isn't the point. It's just that she's really tired and she has AP US history homework that she has to finish. So, would it be okay if you gave her a one day extension on her English homework and her stats homework? If not, I completely understand because you can't just make exceptions because she's a teacher's kid and--"

"Jay, relax," Hailey laughed. "Yes, I'll give her the extensions. What is it that you always tell your team? Their physical and mental health comes first?"

Jay chuckled and then took a sip of his beer. "Yeah, that's about right. And, thank you. Y/N will greatly appreciate that."

"No problem. But, I also have a favor to ask you."

Jay cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"So, we're short on chaperones for the homecoming dance and I was wondering if maybe you could chaperone? And, I figured that since you have a kid and would probably want to be there for her pictures before the dance, you don't have to help us set up. Maybe just chaperone and then help us tear down? If not just chap--"

"Hailey, of course, I'll help out. Now, Y/N, she might not be happy that I'll be chaperoning her school dance, but I'll be there. Count me in."

***

2 weeks later, 3 days before homecoming dance

"Okay, I know I'm just your English teacher," Miss Upton started at the beginning of class that day, "but I still care about your guys' safety. So, please, please, please do not drive drunk or buzzed. Call your parents to pick you up. I can absolutely promise you that they'd be happier that you called them to pick you up than you trying to drive home and getting into a car accident."

"What if my parents will be mad at me for drinking anyway?" one kid asked.

"So, if that's the case, you can always call me and I will come pick you up from wherever you're at. I can lose a few hours of sleep to make sure that you guys are home safe." She started writing numbers on the whiteboard. "Right here is my cell phone number, if you think you'll need it, write it down or make it a contact in your phone. Again, I'd rather not come to school on Monday and learn that one of you is in the hospital because of something that could have been prevented."

You pulled out your phone, you didn't think that you'd need Miss Upton's number, but you figured you'd put it in just in case since two girls from your AP gov class asked you to be the DD for a party. You were kind of friends with them, like you studied for tests together, but that was it. But, you had debated it because it was a party after homecoming and you had never been to a party before...let alone one after a dance.

"Oh, Miss Upton," you said as you put your phone face down on your desk.

"Yes, Y/N?" she asked.

"What color dress are you wearing when you're chaperoning the dance?"

"I haven't really thought it much." She furrowed her eyebrows as she wondered why you were asking this question. "But, probably red. Why?"

"Just wondering."

And now, you just needed to make sure that your dad had a red tie and that he actually wore it when he was chaperoning the dance.

***

3 days later, homecoming

"What about this?" your dad asked as he walked out of his room in dress pants, a white shirt, a navy blue tie, and a sport coat.

You were already in your dress and had gotten your hair and nails done earlier in the day, so now you were just waiting to take some pictures with Emma and then actually go to the dance.

"Hmm, I don't know. The shirt and tie are kind of what you wear to work everyday, so I think you need something different. Maybe a brighter tie or something," you said and then walked into his room and opened his closet.

You sifted through the closet until you found what you were looking for: a black shirt and a red tie.

"I think you should wear these," you said and laid the two pieces of clothing on his bed.

"What? Why? You know I never wear red. That tie has been hung up in my closet since you were probably ten," he argued.

"That's the point, Dad! You need to get out of your comfort zone and wear something besides what you wear to school...or in your case, work. It's a dance, so you have to wear something fancy."

Jay groaned. He knew he wasn't going to be able to win this argument.

"Fine. I'll change."

"Good."

Then, you walked out of his room.

Your plan had worked.

***

"Mr. Halstead," Hailey said as she saw Jay walk onto the dance floor a few hours later when all the lights were off and the cleared-out cafeteria became full of students dancing.

"Miss Upton," he greeted. She laughed. "What?"

"It's nothing," Hailey said quickly. "It's just that, well your tie..." she trailed off while his eyes raked down her body in the slightly tight (but not too tight because they were at a school function) spaghetti strap bright red dress that she was wearing. "Let's just say I now know why Y/N asked me what color dress I was wearing."

Jay groaned and shook his head. "My daughter. Always...you know, I don't know what her game is at this point, but I should've suspected something when she told me to go change."

But damn, Jay thought, she does look good in red.

God, Hailey thought, I wish he'd wear those kind of black shirts to work more often.

***

It was now after the dance and you and your dad had arrived back at home at around the same time.

"You're a little devil, you know that?" he asked when you were both inside.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I plead the fifth," you replied.

"Very funny. You can't do that."

"Yes, I can. You should know this, Dad, you teach government."

"You can plead the fifth in court, but you cannot do it with your dad. So, I know that you asked Hailey what color dress she was wearing just so my tie could match it."

"Oooh, so we're calling her Hailey and not Miss Upton now. I'd say that's a step up. What did you two talk about at the dance? Because I know for a fact that you didn't ask her to slow dance."

"And you didn't slow dance with anyone either, so we're even, kid," Jay retorted.

You rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Get this hair out."

"Okay." Your dad yawned. "I'm gonna get to bed. Now I know why you sleep until noon the day after dances: they're exhausting."

"Tell me about it. Goodnight. Send Miss Upton-- well, Hailey now-- a text to make sure she got home safe!"

You didn't even wait for your dad's witty reply before you bounded up the stairs and into your bathroom.

But, you didn't actually end up taking a shower. You ran the shower while you washed off your makeup and re-did it into something more party-appropriate and then took down your hair and put it up into a ponytail.

After half an hour, you turned off the shower and wrapped your still dry body in a towel after you had stripped off your dress. You peeked out of the bathroom to see that your dad's bedroom door was closed, which meant that he was asleep.

Then, you tiptoed into your room and changed your clothes.

You pulled out your phone to tell the girls to park a few houses down so your dad didn't hear the car pull in the driveway or see the headlights.

Your plan of going to your very first high school party was a go.

***

It had been two hours since you had snuck out and it was nearing two in the morning. And, you weren't feeling too hot. You had decided not to drink because you were the DD out of you and the two girls from class. And, you had kept the car keys away from them so that they couldn't do anything stupid...and so you could keep them safe. You hadn't drank anything, but you had eaten the fruit off of the top of the spiked punch bowl and, for whatever reason, you were starting to feel lighter and happier.

Shit.

Your dad had warned that fruit soaks up alcohol. How could you have been so stupid to forget that? He was going to kill you! There's no way you could call him to pick you up, absolutely no way!

Somehow, you found your friends, they were by the makeshift bar, no shock there because you knew the only reason they were there was to get drunk. Note to self: if people you only know because of one class ask you to come to a party for the sole purpose of being the DD, do not go.

Luckily for you, one of the girls' boyfriends played on the football team and wasn't going to risk his season just for one party. So, you told him that you needed to leave and that you were the DD and asked if he could get the two girls home safely. He agreed and you passed off the car keys to him.

Then you walked outside, the chilly mid-October night air helping to slow the nervousness coursing through your veins about facing your dad.

You pulled out your phone and hit the contact you had made in class a few days ago.

"Hello? This is Hailey," you heard Hailey's voice on the other end of the phone.

"Miss Upton, it's Y/N Halstead," you said.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You heard shuffling on the end of the line and assumed that Miss Upton was standing up from somewhere.

"I mean, I'm kinda woozy I guess. But, I snuck out and my dad doesn't know where I am." You hung your head. You couldn't believe you had been so stupid.

"And you had a drink so you can't drive home?" she finished.

"Yeah." She didn't need to know the details. All she needed to know was that you needed help getting home.

"Okay, send me your location and I'll be there soon, okay? Is it safe for you? Do you need me to stay on the phone or call the cops?"

"No, no, I'm perfectly fine. Just need someone to drive me home."

"Okay good. Send me that location and I'll be there soon."

Then, she told you the model of her car and the color so you could spot her easily. Once you were off the phone, you sent her your location and she replied with a thumbs up, telling you that she got it.

Your phone rang. You thought it was Miss Upton, but then you looked down and saw it was your dad.

Double shit.

***

"Please don't tell my dad," you said when you pulled up to your driveway half an hour later.

"Y/N, I have--"

But, she was saved from telling you that she needed to tell your dad when the front door flung open.

Your dad must've seen the headlights.

"Go," Miss Upton said. "You're only prolonging the inevitable if you stay in here."

You sighed. "Will you walk me up?"

"Sure."

So, both you and Miss Upton exited the car.

The minute your dad saw you, he ran down the steps to you.

"Young lady!" he yelled. "Where were you? Do you know how worried I was? You could've gotten seriously hurt!" He paused. "Get over here!"

You knew to listen to him when he pulled out the dad voice.

He put two fingers underneath your chin and tipped your head up. "Breathe. Now."

It was faint, but it was there, your dad smelt stale vodka on your breath...mixed with a citrusy scent and teeth that hadn't been brushed since the previous morning.

He sighed and clenched his teeth. Then, he put his hands down and he finally spotted Hailey. "Hailey, what are you doing here?" he asked, unclenching his jaw.

"I always tell my students that they can call me if they need to get picked up from parties and can't drive. So far, Y/N's the only one who has utilized that."

"Well, thank you. I'm sorry she had to make you come out at this time of night." He turned back to you. "As for you, go inside. Not only did you drink, but you went to a party, too. We'll talk in a few minutes."

You hung your head and made your way inside and sat down on the couch in the living room.

Jay walked up to Hailey. "I'm really sorry about her. But, thank you for getting her home safe. How far did you have to drive? I can give you gas money for all of this on Monday."

"Jay, it's fine. I make this offer for homecoming and prom every year. You don't have to pay me. I just wanna make sure all the kids get home safe, that's all."

"At least let me buy you coffee or something. You brought my little girl home safe when I didn't even know where she was. I think that warrants some type of reward."

"If you want to repay me that bad," Hailey began, "I'm lesson planning and grading at Starbucks tomorrow. I guess you can buy me a coffee."

"Done. Text me the time and I'll be there."

"Will do."

"Now, excuse me, but I have to go deal with my daughter."

"Goodnight, Jay."

"Night, Hailey."

Then, she drove off and back to her house while Jay walked up his front steps and wondered what he was going to say to you.

"Look at me," your dad demanded when he made his way into the living room.

You looked up. "I'm so--"

"No," your dad said quickly, cutting you off. "You don't talk. You only listen. Do you understand me?" You nodded. "Good. Do you know how worried sick I was when I couldn't find you inside? I was beside myself, Y/N. I didn't know where you were, I didn't know if you were hurt. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you. What you did was stupid and reckless and please do not ever, ever do that again. Never do that again. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," you answered.

"Good."

You took a deep breath before you asked your next question. "Am I in trouble?"

Your dad sighed and sat down next to you. "As much as I want to ground you, no you are not in trouble. I'm just so relieved that you're home safe. And, you made the right decision by not driving and calling someone to pick you up...even if it wasn't me."

"Do you want an explanation as to why I went?" you asked.

"No, God no. I may look calm on the outside, but on the inside, I'm still pissed."

"Can I ask how you knew I snuck out?"

"You forgot to leave your fan on and I knew it was way too quiet in your room."

The doorbell rang.

"Shoot, I forgot to tell your uncle that you're home safe. But, you better go up to bed before me and him talk and think of a punishment for you."

"So you're still mad?" you asked.

"A little mad, but mostly I'm just relieved and disappointed. I thought you knew better." You hung your head. "Now, go to bed."

"Okay." You stood up. "Goodnight, I love you." You gave him a hug.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead. "I love you, too, kid. Now, get to bed."

You went upstairs, but instead of going all the way to your room, you sat down on the landing, intent on listening to your dad's and your uncle's conversation about you.

"Hey, she's home. It's all good," Jay said as he answered the door and then motioned for his brother to come inside.

"Oh, thank God. Where was she?" Will asked as they made their way to the living room and sat down on different couches, facing each other.

"Apparently she went to a party. I know she drank because I smelled alcohol on her breath. It was just a bit, but it was there."

"If you want, we can bring her to Med and I can do a tox screen to see the level of alcohol in her system," Will suggested.

"You know, that's not a bad idea actually."

Jay quickly stood up, but Will stopped him. "I'm kidding, man! Don't do that! She was still lucid when she came home, right?"

"Yeah, she was walking and talking normally."

"Okay, then sit your ass back down and don't drag your daughter to Med. Did you ground her?"

"No, I actually didn't."

"There's a shock. You always said you'd ground your kid if they snuck out. Oh, how things changed."

"I was just so relieved," Jay said and sat back down. "When Hailey pulled in the driveway and Y/N got out of her car--"

"Wait," Will started, cutting Jay off, "Hailey picked her up? Hailey Upton?"

"Yeah," Jay answered. "Apparently she'll give out her phone number to the kids in case they need to get home safe from somewhere after prom and homecoming. And, Y/N called her and not me."

"I wouldn't call you either," Will joked. "You'd probably scream at her in front of everyone at the party."

"I would not!" Will cocked his head to the side. "Okay, maybe, but that's beside the point. All that matters is that Y/N had the wherewithal to know that she couldn't drive and she solved that problem. God, Will, the amount of adrenaline that left my body when I saw her get out of that car was astronomical."

"I bet. So, do you know where she went?"

"I just know it was some party. She got lectured when she got home, don't worry about that." Jay put his head in his hands.

"What? What's wrong, Jay?"

"Anything could've happened to her, Will, and I wouldn't have been there to protect her. I wouldn't have been able to protect my own kid."

"Jay, you can't blame yourself. Hell, most teenagers do this stuff."

"I know, I know. It's just that her grades have been slipping slightly and I'm wondering if I should have her transfer schools." Your eyes widened as you listened to that part of the conversation. "Maybe, having her dad teach at the same school isn't helping her. She went to a party, Will. Maybe it's the kids she's meeting in class, maybe being at another school would be better for her."

"Jay, you can't make a decision like that based on one stupid decision the kid did." He knew his brother was torn up about this, so he changed the subject. "What'd Hailey say?"

"I offered to pay for her gas, but she shut me down."

"Anything else?"

Jay sighed. He knew his brother wouldn't let up. "We're going out for coffee tomorrow to grade. She said I can repay her by buying her coffee there."

"Aw, you're going on a date."

"It is not a date! It's just two coworkers working in a coffee shop together...in their off time."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

A few minutes later, the conversation was over and Jay walked Will out, so you made your way to your room.

One thing was for sure: you were not giving your dad another opportunity to even think about you switching schools.

It was time to grind...starting tomorrow because you desperately needed to sleep right now.

***

You woke up around 11:00 the next day, which was Sunday. Then you got up and went downstairs to eat some breakfast.

"Morning," your dad said. "I made breakfast sandwiches. There's two in the fridge if you want one...or both."

"Thanks," you said. You wanted to ask if he was still mad, but you didn't really want to have an argument right when you woke up.

But, being around teenagers all day must've given your dad a sixth sense.

"Listen, kid, I'm not mad at you if that's what you're worried about. You just... you scared me last night. If something happened to you because I couldn't protect you-- because, as a parent, it is my first responsibility to keep you safe. Anyway, if I couldn't keep you safe because I didn't know where you were, I would never be able to forgive myself."

"Can I tell you why--"

"No. As a teacher at the school, the less I know the better. I really don't want to have to tell the administration and then get kids suspended from their sports for drinking. So, all I know is that you snuck out, went to a party, and drank. I don't wanna know who else was there or whose house it was at."

"But, I--"

"Y/N, end of discussion. Now, I have to go and meet Hail-- Miss Upton, for coffee since she so graciously picked you up when you made a bad decision last night. Don't do anything stupid when I'm gone or else you will be in trouble, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. I'm just gonna study for the SATs."

"Good idea. Be back later. I love you."

"Love you, too, Dad."

***

"...And whatever she's having," Jay said and slid over so that the barista could input Hailey's order.

"Just a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew, please," Hailey ordered.

Jay paid and then he and Hailey waited by the other side of the counter for their drinks to be ready.

Jay laughed. "You and my daughter have the same taste. You both like vanilla sweet cream cold brews."

"I'm shocked you let her get that with the amount of caffeine in cold brew," she said.

"Eh, it's just like once a week. On my rest day when I don't have to be at school before dawn to run, I'll grab her and I something from Starbucks, and then she'll just stop by my room to get it before school starts."

"That's nice of you," Hailey mused.

"Yeah, but nothing compared to Miss I have coffee in my room for the kids and you can drink as much as you want Upton."

"If you've ever heard kids talk about how little sleep they get like I do since I teach AP classes, then you'd get why I do that, Halstead. I hear kids saying that they normally only get four hours of sleep a night because they're up so late doing homework. While I don't think they should become dependent on caffeine at such a young age and need to be getting a lot more sleep than that, they need to stay awake during school. That's also probably the reason why you and I don't give a lot of homework."

"And it's ridiculous how early school starts anyway," Jay said and grabbed their drinks off the counter.

"I'll drink to that," Hailey laughed and then poked her straw in her cold brew and took a sip.

Once they took their seats, they talked a little before starting to grade and lesson plan.

"Not to pry or anything," Hailey began, "but did you ground Y/N? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to, I'm not her parent, so I know I'm not the least bit entitled to that information."

"Well, you did pick her up when she needed help, so I'd say you are entitled to that information," Jay chuckled. "But, to answer your question, no I didn't ground her just because I was so relieved that she was home. The amount of adrenaline and cortisol that dropped in my body when I saw her get out of your car was amazing, Hailey. Thank you so much." He paused and took a sip of his cappuccino. "But, we did have a talk about how she shouldn't be doing that because it's dangerous and if something happened to her, that I wouldn't be able to help her and since I'm her parent, my first job is to keep her safe. She does know that if she sneaks out or goes to a party again, I will be grounding her, though."

"Well, you had a much different and a way better reaction than my dad did when he learned that I snuck out," Hailey muttered.

But, Jay had great hearing and heard her. He put down his coffee and furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened? You don't have to tell me anything you aren't comfortable with."

"Why did you become a teacher?" Hailey asked instead.

"Why did I become a teacher?" Jay repeated and Hailey nodded. "Well, as you know I was in the Rangers in Afghanistan and, while I was there I saw so many kids walking super far to schools or us accompanying children to school. They had to go through so much just to get to school, and I wanted to make a difference in kids' lives here Stateside. So, when I came home, I enrolled in college and got my degrees in education and a minor in history." Hailey had known that he was a veteran, which explained why he took every September 11 off, but she didn't know he became a teacher because of what he saw over there. "What about you?" he asked. "You went into social work before you became a teacher, right?"

For the past almost month and a half, the two teachers had been eating lunch together in either Hailey or Jay's classroom, and during those, they obviously talked about their experience with education and what made them want to go into the teaching field. Hailey mentioned one time that she was originally a social work major but then switched it to education. But, Jay didn't know why.

"Yeah, yeah, I was originally a social work major. But, it uh, it brought up some really bad memories and I didn't think I could handle being around that all day," Hailey answered, staring directly at her coffee.

Jay cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean? Again, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"Um, it's okay. It's a part of my past. So, why I said that you were a lot nicer to Y/N when she snuck out was because, well, when my dad found out that I did, he uh, he..." she trailed off.

Jay's gaze was soft and sad as he finished for her. "Physical?" he asked, referring to the type of abuse she had endured as a child and teenager.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Hailey, I am so, so sorry that happened to you. I'm honored that you'd tell me this."

"It's uh, it's why I give those kids my phone number in case they need help. And, at the beginning of the year, it's on my syllabus, too," she said.

"In case they need a way out, they can call you," Jay said, piecing it together.

Hailey nodded.

Jay reached across the table and gently grabbed Hailey's hand in his. "You're a good woman, Hailey Upton."

She smiled sadly and nodded, grounding herself by focusing on the feeling of Jay's hand in hers.

"Do you want to get started on grading now?" she asked after a minute had passed.

"That might be a good idea," Jay laughed. Then, he let go of Hailey's hand. But, neither of them wanted that little handhold to end.

***

One month later

God, you were in pain. You didn't wanna get out of bed; you just wanted to sleep. Hell, you needed sleep.

Over the past month, you had thrown yourself into studying. You wanted to stay at this school. You loved all your teachers and you didn't want to leave your friends, especially your best friend Emma. And, you were also scared that if you had to transfer schools, that you might not do well on your AP exams or that you'd have a bunch of other requirements that the new school had that you'd have to do the last half of your junior year and during the entirety of your senior year.

You didn't want any of that.

So, you had come up with a plan.

The day after homecoming and that next week, you studied an hour or two hours later than normal. But, you still felt that you had work to do if you didn't want your dad to transfer you at the end of the semester. So, during your study hall hour, you'd go to the teachers and ask how you could get your B+ up to an A- or your A- up to an A. You'd even review questions you got wrong on quizzes so that you could get them right when those types of questions showed up on the tests.

Yes, the teachers probably thought you were crazy because you had good grades already and were trying to be Little Miss Perfect (or they thought that you were trying to get into another scholarship bracket for college or trying to become valedictorian), but you didn't care if you looked crazy. You wanted to finish your high school career at the school you were at now.

Also during this time, you had been "going to sleep" around 10:00-11:00, which was your normal time, just so that your dad didn't get suspicious. But, what you'd actually do was sleep for an hour-ish and then get up and study more.

It started with you studying until midnight and at the latest 1:30 in the morning...and then you'd wake up five hours later at 6:30. It wasn't ideal, but you could manage. Because, since your dad went to school earlier than you, you just brought extra coffee to school and he didn't notice a thing.

But, since all the teachers wanted to get their tests in before Thanksgiving break, for the past two weeks, you had been doing your power nap thing so your dad assumed that you were asleep, and then would wake up and do homework and study until 3:00-3:30 in the morning. This meant, that during the week, you were running on just three to three and a half hours of sleep a night. And, it wasn't like you could catch up a ton on the weekend, or else your dad would get suspicious. So, you just got like seven or maybe eight hours of sleep on the weekends. So, you were constantly in a state of sleep debt and in desperate need of caffeine.

You had done the extra cup of coffee for the first two weeks, but for the past two weeks, you had been drinking two cups of coffee at your house before school and finishing the second cup at school right before classes start, but then going into Miss Upton's classroom and getting another cup of coffee. Then, you'd also get another one from her room a little after lunch. (You made sure to never go in there during her lunch period because your dad and her still ate lunch together and you didn't want him to get suspicious.) Also, sometimes you and Emma would go to Starbucks to study after school. So, lately, you had been averaging four to five cups of coffee during the week and just two on the weekends. Because, again, you couldn't have your dad getting suspicious.

And, your dad and Miss Upton ran together in the morning before school now, so you really had to be careful about what you told Miss Upton. You couldn't have her telling your dad that you were drinking a couple additional cups of coffee. You just told her that your coffee never stayed warm long enough when you brought it from home, which is why you opted for hers. And, she bought it.

To cover the bags under your eyes, you had been wearing a bit of extra foundation and cover-up. And, to make sure that your dad didn't notice at home, you'd wash off all your makeup after school, but then quickly redo the area under your eyes.

So far, he was oblivious.

But, for a week and a half, your stomach had been super achy and you couldn't stand to eat anything in the morning before you had at least one cup of coffee. So, what would typically happen was that you'd end up eating a bowl of overnight oats in your car in the school parking lot before walking inside so that your coffee had time to digest. You figured out that you were fine after that. Well, it was still achy, but not as bad as in the morning.

God, you wish you were at that point right now.

For the past five days, you've been feeling nauseous and your stomach has been achy, but in the morning, there'd be a stabbing pain before you had any coffee. You'd roll out of bed when your alarm went off and go straight downstairs to get coffee because that seemed to be the only thing--besides ibuprofen--that would alleviate the pain.

But right now, right now was the worst you had ever felt in your entire life. You felt like someone was stabbing your stomach and it wouldn't let up. You felt nauseous like you'd puke any second. And, trying to get into another position didn't help. Nothing helped.

Fuck, you had to swallow your pride and your secrecy and go tell your dad.

You needed help and you needed it now.

So, you got up. But, that just made it worse. You swallowed, trying to keep the lump in your throat and not have it go on the floor.

You whimpered and then walked a few steps and opened your bedroom door.

Then, you threw yourself on the floor and crawled across the hallway.

You held your breath as you stood up, anticipating a ton of pain--which came--when you stood up and opened the door to your dad's room.

Then, you went back on the floor and crawled in there with tears streaming down your face.

It took all your energy to whisper, "Daddy."

***

Jay blinked sleepily. He thought he heard his daughter mumble "Daddy", which she hadn't called him in years. But, then he heard it again.

He looked down and saw a figure curled up in a ball on the floor.

"Daddy, make it stop, please," you whimpered.

He quickly flicked on the light so that he could get a better look at you.

"Y/N, baby, what's wrong?" he asked quickly when he saw your tears, your face contorted in pain, and how jagged your breathing was.

"Hurts," you whimpered as more tears fell and you clutched your stomach.

He jumped out of bed and knelt down next to you. "Your stomach?" he asked urgently. You nodded. "Can you sit up?"

You nodded and leaned against his bed. But, that was a bad idea because the minute you were upright, you puked right down yourself. You groaned and pressed down more on your stomach, which just caused you to vomit more and more.

The minute you started to vomit, Jay looked at the clock. He started to soothe you by rubbing your back, but then quickly stopped and ran into the adjoining bathroom to grab the trashcan and put it underneath your mouth instead.

"There you go, there you go," he soothed as he held the trashcan with one hand and rubbed your back with the other. "Get it out. It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here. I'm right here, Y/N."

But, when you puked for almost four minutes straight and were still in pain after, Jay knew something was seriously wrong.

"Don't get up, you'll make it worse," he said. You nodded weakly. "I'm gonna go grab you some water and Gatorade and put those and a bowl in the car. Then, we're gonna go to Med to get you checked out." You nodded again. "I'll be right back. I love you."

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and then sprinted off into the kitchen to grab the stuff he previously mentioned. Then, he ran outside and unlocked his car, turned it on to start heating up, put that stuff in the backseat, and sprinted back inside.

"Y/N, you still awake?" he asked when he walked back into his room.

"Mhm," you hummed with your eyes still closed and your hands still clutching your stomach.

"Okay, I'm gonna throw on a hoodie and my shoes, and then I'm gonna run into your room and grab you some shoes and a hoodie because it's pretty cold out. Are you okay here?" you nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll be right back. Don't get up."

Five minutes later, you had your shoes and hoodie on. You weren't much help getting those on; your dad basically had to dress you as if you were a baby again.

"I'm gonna pick you up and bring you to the car and we're gonna go to Med to see Uncle Will."

"Uh huh," you said, letting your dad know that you had heard him. Then, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and soon felt the chill of the late November air and then the leather seats of your dad's truck on your back and the warmth of the truck.

"There's water and Gatorade. I want you to take a few sips," your dad said. "There's a bowl, too in case you have to puke again."

You drank a few sips of Gatorade and then laid back down and closed your eyes.

As your dad backed out of the driveway, he called Will to explain the situation and tell him that the two of you were on your way to Chicago Med.

After the call, he threw his phone into the passenger seat and reached his left hand into the backseat, and grabbed one of your hands. You gripped your dad's hand weakly as he drove as fast he could to Chicago Med.

He had to make sure that his little girl was okay.

***

"We've got a treatment room right here," Maggie said when she saw Jay sprinting into the ED with you in his arms.

She quickly led him to it and he laid you down in the bed.

Will rushed in with Natalie and April a few seconds later.

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Natalie asked.

"Hurts," you mumbled.

"Jay," Will started, "did she puke on the way here at all?"

"No, no, she didn't. She just puked for almost four minutes straight at home and it's worse when she sits or stands up. She's been clutching her stomach since she woke up."

"Gonna- gonna--" you started to heave and a pink basin was thrust under your mouth and then you emptied the few sips of Gatorade into the basin. You started to cry even harder once you finished. "Make it stop, make it stop! Please make it stop!"

Natalie turned to your dad. "Do we have permission to administer medications?"

"Please," he answered, his voice cracking. He was terrified. He was terrified something was seriously wrong. He had never seen you in so much pain. "You have permission. Just please help her."

April pushed antinausea and pain medications as well as a light sleeping medication because it was apparent that, along with puking and being in a world of pain, you were also utterly exhausted.

"Y/N," April started, "you're going to get sleepy soon. But, can you give us your pain level on a scale of one to ten?"

"Ten. My stomach hurts at a ten," you answered while tears still ran down your face.

"Did you eat anything you weren't used to? Drink anything?"

"No, no," you panted. "Just- just lots of coffee. Not a lot of sleep. Studying."

Will and Natalie shared a look. They knew what this could be. And, at least they got it out of you now, because it was clear that the meds were starting to work and you were fading fast.

"Hun," Natalie began, "we're gonna leave April in here with you in case you get sick again. Is it okay if me, your Uncle Will, and your dad have a chat outside real quick?"

"Want my dad. Please."

Natalie smiled sadly. "Okay, he'll stay. We can talk to him later."

Your dad reached for your hand and held it and rubbed his thumb over the top while you drifted into a medication-induced sleep.

Five minutes later, you were out.

Jay looked at his brother. "What's going on? What's wrong with my kid?"

"From what she told us, it sounds like the acid in the coffee she's been drinking has been irritating her stomach lining. Has she been drinking a lot of coffee lately?" Will asked.

"Not that I've noticed. But, sometimes there's a little less in the coffee pot than I think there should be. But, even if she is drinking two cups, that can't cause this, can it?" Jay asked worriedly.

"No, two cups shouldn't. But, if she isn't sleeping a lot, sometimes lack of sleep can make people feel pretty crappy. So, if she's drinking more than her normal amount of caffeine and not sleeping, then that could be what's causing it."

"But, she goes to bed at her normal time," Jay argued.

"That doesn't mean that she's sleeping. She could be lying awake in bed. Has she seemed more tired to you?"

"No, not that I've noticed. Uh, what do I do, Will? Can't you run some tests?"

"I mean, I can run one to see if she's sleep-deprived, it's a plasma cortisol test. If her levels are elevated, that means she's not getting enough sleep. But, it wouldn't give us the reason why her stomach's hurting so bad and why she's nauseous and vomiting," Will answered.

"Then don't run the test," Jay said. "If it's not going to figure out the problem, then I don't want to put her through that. But, what do we do?"

"If it's what I think, an irritated stomach lining, then we keep her for observation for a few days, ween her off of caffeine to a healthy amount, give her antinausea and pain medications, and just wait for her to go home until she feels better," Will answered.

"Okay. I guess we wait. You mind grabbing me some coffee?"

Will laughed because they had just been talking about how you had been possibly drinking too much coffee and now Jay was asking for it. "Yeah, I can do that. My shift ends in an hour, so I'll be down here to wait with you then."

Jay smiled. "Thanks, man."

***

It was 7:30 in the morning the next day, which was Thanksgiving Day, when Jay's phone rang, waking him up. He answered it without checking the caller ID because he didn't want to disturb your peaceful sleep.

"Hello?" he asked groggily.

"Jay? Where are you and Y/N?" he heard Hailey's voice through the phone.

Shit, the Turkey Trot, he thought.

He and you always ran the Turkey Trot every Thanksgiving, sometimes dragging Will along if he didn't have to work. Then, you'd have your Thanksgiving feast later in the day. Granted, your dad had to keep pace with you for the entire time, so it really wasn't a race. But, it was a nice bonding experience, so the two (sometimes three of you) kept it up.

Jay had mentioned it to Hailey one morning when they were running the indoor track before school started, and she said she'd sometimes run it, too. So, Jay had invited her to run it with him and you, and she agreed.

You were convinced that Miss Upton and your dad were secretly dating.

But, Miss Upton had been waiting for you and your dad at the designated meeting spot for half an hour now. And, Jay Halstead was not one to be late.

"Listen, me and Y/N aren't going to be able to make it. She had some stomach issues last night and now she's in the hospital and the doctors are trying to figure out what's wrong," Jay said.

"Oh my God," she said as she started to walk away from their planned meeting spot and towards the parking garage where she parked her car. "What hospital are you at?"

"Chicago Med," Jay answered. "Why?"

"I'm gonna find someplace that's open and grab breakfast and then I'll be there."

"Hailey, you don't have to."

"Jay, I want to do this. I'll be there within the next hour."

Then, without waiting for him to protest once more, she ended the call.

***

When you woke up a few hours later, you rubbed your eyes, despite the IV in your hand, and rolled over.

"Well good morning, or almost afternoon," your uncle Will said and stood up. "How's the pain on a scale of one to ten?"

"Uh, maybe a six, seven?" you said.

But then, you looked around the room.

Why was Miss Upton here?

"I'll go get a nurse and let you three talk," Will said and then left the treatment room.

You looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows. At the same time, the achiness in your stomach started up again and you clutched it.

"Gonna be sick?" your dad asked.

"I don't know," you answered.

He handed you the pink basin anyway (a clean one because last night's was gross and went off to get cleaned) and you set it on your lap.

"Feel like you can eat anything?" your dad asked. "Hailey brought food...and coffee, but we'll have to check with the nurses about how much coffee you can drink."

"You brought it?" you asked as you looked at Miss Upton.

She smiled. "I did. I called your dad to see why you two weren't at the Turkey Trot yet, and he said you two were here, so I figured I'd find somewhere that's open and get you breakfast." She rummaged around in the bag and pulled out a container. "He mentioned you were having stomach issues so I opted for something light, so the fruit and nut oatmeal from Mcdonald's. I also grabbed a packet of syrup in case you wanted it sweeter."

She passed the food to you along with a spoon and a napkin. "Thank you," you said as you took them from her. "Sorry I messed up your run."

Hailey laughed. "It's okay. My run's the least of my problems. Me and your dad just want you to get better."

You tried to hide your smile. She said she and your dad. She cared about you more than she did other students...and you were just waiting for them to slip up and call each other babe at this point.

"Hey, I'm back," Will announced as he walked into the room. This time, he had Dr. Choi and Monique in tow. "Natalie and April have Thanksgiving off, so you have Dr. Choi as your doctor and Monique as your nurse."

You nodded.

"Hi, Y/N, I'm Dr. Choi, as your brother just mentioned. Monique here is just going to check your vitals." You nodded again. "I understand you've been having some stomach issues. Can you tell me when they started? Any changes to your diet or routine that I should know about?"

Here goes nothing.

You looked at your dad as tears formed in your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Your dad moved his chair closer to you and gently grabbed your hand. "Tell me what, baby?"

"I- I went to that party because--"

"Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to know why because I'm a teacher? Me and Miss Upton are both teachers."

"But I didn't go to drink at all! I hadn't even planned on drinking! I didn't even drink a drink!" you yelled, causing Monique to take a step back. You took a deep breath and turned to her. "Sorry, sorry. I'll be calm so you can do your job." After a few breaths, Monique went back to checking your vitals and you continued your story. "These two girls I know from my AP gov class asked me to come to the party to be their DD. So, I went. But, when I was there, I ate the fruit from the punch bowl and I forgot that the fruit absorbs the alcohol. I'm sorry."

"And when you realized what happened, you called Miss Upton?" your dad asked.

"Yeah," you confirmed. "And, I even made sure to give the car keys to one of the girl's boyfriends who wasn't drinking because he plays sports so that they'd get home safely."

Jay smiled slightly; he had taught you well.

"Did you keep drinking consistently after?" Dr. Choi asked. He couldn't see one drink causing all these problems.

"No, God no!" you said. But, then you clutched your stomach and took in a deep breath.

"Pain?" Dr. Choi asked.

"Yeah, it's not as bad as last night, though."

He looked to your dad. "If she wants more pain meds, will you allow it?"

"Yes," your dad answered.

"Do you want more pain meds?" Dr. Choi asked.

"Please," you answered.

So, Monique started to get the pain medication ready to go into your IV and then pushed the meds.

A few minutes later, once the medication had started to work, you continued your story.

"I heard you and Uncle Will talking," you said.

"When?" your dad asked. "Me and Uncle Will talk a lot."

"The night I snuck out. You and Uncle Will were talking and you said that you might make me transfer schools if my grades don't get better. I don't want to transfer schools, Dad."

Your dad sighed. "Kid, I was mad, but in reality, I wouldn't do that. That was just me being angry and trying to find a solution when I wasn't in the right headspace. Were you so nervous that your stomach hurt all the time?" he asked.

"No," you answered. "but, I started staying up later and doing homework."

"Really? You always seemed asleep to me."

"I'd sleep for an hour and then wake up and study more." Your dad sighed. "I'm sorry. And then I was just sleeping for like three hours, so I'd drink four or five cups of coffee a day and my stomach hurt so bad in the morning if I didn't drink any coffee, so I'd eat breakfast in my car before school."

"For how long?" your dad asked. "For how long have you been bottling this up? For how long have you been waiting to eat breakfast?"

"The stomach aches started a week and a half ago. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." You started to cry harder.

"Hey, hey it's okay. We know what happened now, so hopefully, Dr. Choi and everyone else here can fix it." He looked up at Dr. Choi who had been intently listening as well. "Right, Doc?"

Dr. Choi smiled. "That's right, Y/N. And, what it seems to me is that you've just been drinking too much coffee, and coupled with the lack of sleep, have had abdominal cramping and nausea due to all the caffeine irritating your stomach lining. So, what we'll do is ween your caffeine intake back down to one to two cups of coffee per day, not go cold turkey because you'll probably feel pretty crappy if we did that, and then continue giving you pain meds and antinausea meds. We'll probably keep you here a few days upstairs in a recovery room just for observation to make sure nothing else is going on."

"So, I have to spend my whole Thanksgiving break in the hospital?" you asked.

"I'm afraid so," he answered.

"Well, this sucks." You looked at the table next to Miss Upton. "Is that coffee for me?"

"It is. I don't know if you can have it, though," she answered.

"She can have it," Dr. Choi answered. "Just, no more after this one seeing as that's a large."

You nodded.

"I got you a vanilla iced coffee. Since apparently, we have the same taste because your dad said you also like vanilla sweet cream cold brews as much as me," Miss Upton said and then handed you the coffee.

"Seeing as everything looks good, me and Monique will check on you later." He turned to the three adults in the room. "If she pukes up that food or her stomach pain gets worse, come get us."

"Will do, Doc," your dad answered.

"Jay," Hailey started, "can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?"

Jay furrowed his eyebrows slightly but nodded. "Of course. Be right back, Y/N. I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad," you said.

Then, your dad and Miss Upton left the room.

Outside the treatment room, Hailey took a deep breath, grounding herself as she prepared to talk to Jay.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

"For what?" Jay asked, utterly confused.

"I knew she was drinking extra coffee but didn't tell you! Well, she told me when she brought it from home, that it would get cold too fast, so she always came to my room and had two cups during the day. If I knew she was drinking some at home, too, I would've never let her have any. I'm so, so sorry, Jay!"

"Hailey," Jay began and placed his hands on her shoulders, "it's not your fault. Hell, I didn't even notice it and she's my daughter."

"I know, but I just feel slightly responsible for her being in that hospital bed--"

"It's not your fault, Hailey. I promise. I don't blame you one bit and I know Y/N doesn't either."

Meanwhile, back in the treatment room, you really needed to use the bathroom.

"Uncle Will?" you asked, causing him to look up from his phone where he was trying to figure out what restaurants were open for dinner on Thanksgiving. He really didn't want him and his family eating hospital cafeteria food for Thanksgiving dinner.

"Hmm?" he hummed and gave you his full attention.

"I really need to go to the bathroom," you told him.

He pocketed his phone and stood up and moved over to you. "Okay, I'm gonna help you up and with one arm, I'll hold on to you and with the other, I'll hold onto the IV pole for you. Is that okay?" You nodded. "Do you think you'll need help in the bathroom? I can grab a nurse if you need me to," he offered.

"No, just help me to the bathroom, please. I should be good when I get in there."

"Okay." Then, he helped you up and the two of you made your way over to the bathroom where he stood and waited while you went inside.

Back with Hailey and Jay, Jay reassured Hailey once again that none of this was on her.

"If anything," Jay began, "I should be thanking you. You got Y/N home safe after that party."

"Jay, we've been over this. I would've done it for any one of my students," she said.

"But, would you take their dad up on their offer of buying you coffee if it wasn't my kid you picked up?" Jay asked and tilted his head to the side.

"Probably not," Hailey said, a blush rising to her cheeks.

"Can I ask why?" She stayed silent. "Listen, Hailey, it's been a long time since I've seen you as just a fellow teacher," Jay admitted.

She looked up at him. "Since we're all sharing secrets today, it's been a long time since I've seen you as a fellow teacher, too, Jay."

Jay smiled and moved a piece of her hair behind her ear. He leaned in. "Can I?" he asked.

He didn't get a response because she quickly pressed her lips against his. It was the kiss she had been waiting for since she asked him to eat lunch with her that first week of school.

You and your uncle Will had chosen that exact time to make your way back to your treatment room. You two had seen everything: your dad putting a strand of Hailey's hair behind her ear and them leaning in and kissing.

You were glad that one of your hands was free because you whacked Will across the chest in excitement.

It was finally happening!

Jay and Hailey pulled away and looked at each other and smiled.

"I uh, I hope that was okay," Hailey said quietly.

"Oh, it was more than okay. I'd happily do that again, but we should probably get back into Y/N's room. She's probably wondering what's taking us so long," Jay said.

Hailey laughed. "Probably."

The two turned around and saw you and Will standing thirty feet away. Jay's eyes widened. "Uh..." he trailed off as Hailey blushed hard.

"Finally!" you exclaimed.

"Yeah, I agree with Y/N on this one," Will laughed. "But, who would've thought? A government teacher and an English teacher?" He started to help you walk back to your treatment room but turned his head back to Jay and Hailey. "Oh, don't stop on our account."

"Will!"

A/N: hank you guys so, so, so much for reading! Again, please remember to like/reblog and comment because I love reading all your comments and seeing that you liked/reblogged because that means you enjoyed reading the imagine! Again, I am donating all my proceeds on buy me a coffee until the end of AU-gust to Save The Children to help the children in Afghanistan. Buy me a coffee here.

As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’d be happy to add you!

Taglist: @theambracer88@virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

66 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 5 years ago

Text

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

2K notes · View notes