#still good too have a break and not have dues/upcoming tests breathing down my neck tho so its still worth it :33

[bphantom01]

Last week b4 Christmas Vaca was finished yesterday IM FREEEEEEEEE! ᕕ(ᗒ∀ᗕ)ᕗ

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

*

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

[whumphoarder]

¿Cómo se dice ‘I’m in Deep Sh*t’?

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances (and a bit of procrastination), Peter runs out of time to prepare for his Spanish presentation and ends up faking sick to buy himself some more.

He just wasn’t really counting on Tony being the one to pick him up from school.

Word count: 2,997

Genre: humor, fluff, whump

Link to read on Ao3

A/N: Based on a prompt from @coconutknightshade! 

Apparently it takes a village to write a story lol—thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx, @sallyidss, @fandomsficsandfeels, & @seek-rest for beta-reading and ideas, and @lunannex for Spanish help!

“What if I just like… fake my death?” Peter suggests as he hands his mentor a different sized wrench. “They can’t mark me down for not doing it if I’m dead, right?”

Tony, who is currently bent over their latest project (replacing the timing belt in May’s car), snorts. “As someone who’s been officially presumed dead more than once, can’t say I recommend it. Way too much paperwork.”

Peter sighs. “Can we stage a kidnapping then?” he says hopefully. “Or an alien abduction?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s a four-minute speech, not the end of the world—though I have some experience with that too.” He holds out a hand. “Half inch ratchet.”

“A four-minute speech in Spanish,” Peter emphasizes, passing him the requested tool. “Which is a language I don’t speak.”

“Hence why you’re in Spanish class,” Tony counters. “With all the other kids who can’t speak Spanish.”

“But it’s also like ten percent of my grade,” Peter goes on as his mentor loosens the timing belt and removes it from the engine before handing it to Peter to set aside. “And I have to talk about what I do in a typical week, and it’s not like I can say I go patrolling or come over to the compound, so I’m gonna have to make stuff up—”

Tony interrupts, “Yo veo mucha televisión,” he says sagely.

“—and then what if I get up there and forget everything and just sound stupid?” Peter continues his rant. He groans and passes Tony the replacement belt. “Maybe I should just conveniently get the flu on Wednesday.”

Looking up from the engine, Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you really this stressed about it? Because if you need to focus on school, I could just finish this up myself.”

Peter sighs again and runs a hand through his hair—he hadn’t meant to complain this much, he’d just kind of gotten on a roll after Tony asked him how school was going. “No, no… I wanted to come over—really. And I’ve got three more days to work on it, it’s just like… ugh. I should have taken German instead.”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Pretty sure they have to speak in German class too.”

“Yeah but MJ’s not in German…” Peter mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” Tony asks, elbow deep in the engine block.

Peter expels a breath. “Nothing, it’s fine,” he says a bit more audibly, trying to convince himself as much as his mentor. So what if the most observant and shrewd person in his year also happens to be in his Spanish class?

(And so what if he might have a bit of a crush on her?)

Tony chuckles. “You’ll do great, kid,” he assures. “Just make sure you practice.”

Peter forces a smile. “Right, yeah, of course.”

X

Practicing, however, turns out to be easier said than done.

With finals fast approaching, it’s crunch time for all of Peter’s classes. Whatever spare moments he has over the weekend are spent finishing up his Animal Farm essay for the English summative and cramming for his geometry test Monday morning. The upcoming Spanish presentation hangs over his head, but it’s more annoying than anything else. He figures it should be fairly simple to actually bullshit something and translate it if he just sits down and does it (which, ironically, somehow makes it easier to push off).

He’s intending to work on it Monday evening, but a winter storm hits that afternoon, dumping eight inches of snow and ice on the city. Peter spends most of his patrol assisting with minor traffic accidents and helping stranded motorists scrape ice from their vehicles or shovel cars out of parking spaces. By the time he gets home late that night, he’s too exhausted to do much more than sit on the couch with May and drink cocoa while she watches Grey’s Anatomy reruns.

Oh well. He’s still got time.

Peter tries to make good use of his study hall on Tuesday, but the period ends up being kind of a wash. He spends half the time attempting to come up with something to say that is both interesting enough to make him seem not totally lame while still believable enough to fool MJ, and the other half messing around on his phone and trying to recall the name of the annoying song stuck in his head.

(It was ‘Goodbye’ by The Spice Girls.)

He’s intending to finish the presentation Tuesday evening after he gets home, but then Ned throws an unexpected monkey wrench into his plans just before the final bell rings.

“So I gotta be there early for warm ups, but my mom will pick you up around six, okay?” he tells Peter as they pack up their book bags.

Peter frowns, confused. “...Pick me up?”

Ned tilts his head. “Unless May can give you a ride after all? But I thought you said she was working tonight, right?”

All of a sudden it clicks—tonight is Ned’s first band concert. He’d taken up percussion a few months back in an effort to beef up his extracurriculars for his college applications. Peter agreed to go to the performance weeks ago.

“Oh right right right,” Peter quickly covers. “Six is great. I’ll see her then!”

Ned beams. “Awesome! My sister and her boyfriend are coming too, so we might go out to celebrate afterwards!”

“Yeah, awesome!” Peter agrees, forcing a grin. “That should be really fun.”

(Oh yeah, he’s screwed.)

X

The concert was cool. Ned hit that triangle with all the required enthusiasm whenever his parts came up, and Peter flashed him loads of encouraging thumbs-ups from the audience. When it was over, they all went out to Denny’s for some mediocre late-night pancakes and the usual Leeds family banter. All in all, a pretty fun night.

When Peter gets home a little after ten, he opens his Spanish doc in one tab and promptly falls into a YouTube hole in another while looking for background music. He’s still grinning when he closes out of his fifth vine compilation video in a row until he checks the time a second later and the grin dissolves. It’s 12:03 a.m.

Oops.

Study hall Wednesday morning will be his saving grace, he’s sure.

X

So, of course, a fight has to break out right outside of the library.

It’s not too bad—the two instigating students are hauled away by security with a couple bloody noses and black eyes, and a few other kids are taken down to the office for questioning. Peter was far enough removed from the action that he doesn’t have to come along, but the whole debacle eats up all but the last ten minutes of the period so when the bell finally rings, he’s got precisely five words written down:

Hola, me llamo Peter Parker.

(Suddenly all those jokes about faking his own death are starting to sound a lot more appealing.)

Or if not my death, he thinks as he trudges down the hall in the direction of his Spanish classroom, cold dread pooling in his gut, then at least…

He stops walking, glancing sideways into the brightly lit office just off the hall. The elderly nurse is sitting at her desk, glasses half-way down her nose as she reads a paperback novel with the picture of a Christmasy log cabin on the cover.

No. He can’t. He doesn’t lie.

...Unless…

No. May’s at work. She’d have to leave early to come and pick him up.

Okay, but it’s not like you do this often, his brain counters. Hell, you came to school with a concussion and two cracked ribs last month and didn’t say a word about it. May can take one for the team just this once.

Peter slips into the bathroom across the hall and waits there until the bell rings to signal the end of passing period, and then an additional five minutes on top of that to add some credibility to his act. He splashes a bit of cold water on his forehead and around his neck, and then works himself up with some heavy breathing before exiting the bathroom.

Folding his arms over his stomach, Peter moves shakily across the hall back toward the nurse’s office, making an effort to look as unwell as possible. A passing student eyes him suspiciously and gives him a wide berth, so he figures he must be doing something right.

Steeling himself with a shuddery breath, he steps into the office.

“Hall pass?” the nurse asks without looking up from her book.

“Um, no, I don’t have one, uh…” Peter’s heart is fluttering in his chest. “I just… I’m not feeling good.”

Eyes still on the page, the nurse silently taps a finger to a sign on the wall just behind her desk which reads: PASSES REQUIRED FOR ALL STUDENTS.

Peter swallows hard. C’mon, Parker—commit. “Right, but, uh, I came from the bathroom.” He hugs himself a little tighter and looks down. “My stomach really hurts. I was throwing up and, uh… stuff,” he concludes, deciding that in this case, less is more.

The nurse’s expression softens. She lowers her novel and gets to her feet with a small sigh. “Well, there is a bug going around,” she concedes, gesturing for him to sit down on the cot in the back of her office.

Peter keeps his responses vague when she requests more specific information on his symptoms, mostly offering shrugs or short, mumbled answers. She checks his temperature and seems slightly suspicious at his lack of fever, but he makes up for it by getting up suddenly and darting into the nurse’s bathroom.

When he emerges—exactly seven minutes and two new levels of Candy Crush later—Peter makes sure to keep his eyes averted from the nurse’s gaze and his movements slow and a little unsteady, one hand hovering over his stomach. She gives him a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of crackers and tells him to lie down until May comes to pick him up.

“I got ahold of her,” the nurse informs, sounding more sympathetic now. She slides a small garbage bin beside the cot. “She says she’s just finishing something up at work and then she’ll be right over.”

“Thank you,” Peter mutters tiredly. He doesn’t even have to act for that part—between the stress of his upcoming finals and his last couple of late nights, he really is exhausted and he has a bit of a headache. It makes him feel just the slightest bit better about pulling May away from her shift that there’s at least something physically wrong with him, even if it isn’t what he’s claiming.

Under the thin fleece blanket the nurse gives him, Peter manages to drift off to sleep.

X

But it turns out, today is just really not his day.

“No fever yet, but sometimes with these kinds of bugs that doesn’t come until later,” Peter overhears the nurse explaining in a low voice. He’s lying curled up on the cot, face toward the wall. “If that happens, just remember that he needs to be fever-free for 24 hours before returning to school.”

“Oh, I have a feeling that won’t be a problem,” a familiar voice that definitely does not belong to Aunt May replies.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s eyes snap open fully and he sits up in a hurry.

Tony and the nurse are standing together beside her desk, chatting quietly. Tony turns to look at Peter, face straight but eyebrows raised in amusement. “Oh would you look at that—he lives,” he remarks. “Feeling any better, Pete?”

Immediately, Peter wraps an arm around his stomach and does his best to look ill. “Uh, no, not really... but, um wh-what are you doing here?”

“The hospital is a little short-staffed today and your aunt was having trouble finding someone to cover her shift,” Tony explains, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “She called to ask if I minded picking you up. You know”—his eyes narrow—“since you’re so sick.”

(Peter gulps. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he’ll be sick after all.)

“So of course, I told her I would,” Tony goes on. “I mean, if you’re feeling this bad, we could hardly just leave you here...”

Peter has to force himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Right. Um, thank you. That’s super nice of you.”

“Well, you know me, Tony Super-Nice Stark,” his mentor says with a small chuckle as he steps closer to the bed.

“Now, with stomach bugs, the biggest concern is going to be dehydration,” the nurse continues. “So you’re going to want to push fluids, especially if he’s having di—”

“Fluids, got it,” Peter cuts her off, feeling his cheeks heat up. He gets to his feet and starts moving toward the door, but Tony halts him by grabbing his arm.

“Hey, hey, slow down, kid,” Tony tuts at him. “You were just looking like you might pass out a minute ago.” He presses his palm to Peter’s forehead and glances over to the nurse, eyebrows pinched together in the semblance of concern. “He’s kinda flushed, right? Maybe we should check his temperature again.”

“It’s fine,” Peter mutters, barely managing to suppress an eye-roll. “I think I just need to go home and sleep.”

“Sleep is probably the best thing for him,” the nurse agrees, nodding. “But going back to dehydration, if at any point it’s been more than five hours since he’s last urinated—”

“Mr. Stark, c’mon…” Peter whines quietly, nudging the man toward the door.

Tony holds up a finger to shush him—there’s a twinkle in his eyes that’s honestly driving Peter mad. “Hang on, kiddo. This is all very important information. In fact”—he pulls out his phone and opens the notes app—“let me just write this down. So you said if he hasn’t peed in five hours…?”

The nurse goes on to happily share her wealth of knowledge regarding stomach viruses with his mentor. Tony nods along to her advice, looking genuinely interested the entire time, occasionally interrupting to ask pertinent questions. Meanwhile, Peter just stands there, quietly dying a little inside.

Finally, she concludes her little spiel and Tony thanks her politely, then asks, “You wouldn’t happen to have a bin or bag or something we could take with us, would you? I just got the car detailed recently—hate for that to go to waste.”

Peter lets out another low groan. “Mr. Stark…”

“Ah, I have just the thing!” the nurse says. She bustles over behind her desk and produces a plastic sand pail with assorted Paw Patrol characters on it. “I get these from the dollar store,” she informs. “They don’t look like they hold too much but you’d be surprised!”

Tony grins. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Alice.” Looking to Peter, he asks, “Need the bathroom before we leave?”

Rolling his eyes at his mentor, Peter takes the bucket from the nurse with a muttered “thanks” and strides directly out the door.

X

Tony doesn’t say anything for the entire walk to the car, but Peter’s mind is happy to fill the silence with dread and anxious thoughts as he imagines all the various ways his mentor might chew him out about this. Stupid Spanish presentation—he should have just winged it after all.

The moment that both he and Tony are seated in the vehicle and the car doors are shut behind them, Peter sets the bucket down on the floor and covers his face with a groan.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” he mutters into his hands. “Lay it on me.”

“Just to clarify,” Tony begins, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re not actually sick, right? This was just to get out of your presentation?”

“Yeah, I dunno...” Peter admits, feeling defeated. “I was planning to work on it—I swear. Just, well, there was all this stuff due for my other classes, and then the snowstorm, and all these commitments just kept coming up, and I just kinda... ran out of time. Figured if I got sent home I could buy myself an extra day or two.” He sighs deeply, lowering his hands to look up at his mentor. “Are you gonna tell May?”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Honestly? I think you’ve suffered enough.”

Peter blinks at him, surprised. “Wait, seriously?”

“You listened to a school nurse describe the BRAT diet for three whole minutes,” Tony says with a snort. “I don’t think any lecture May or I could give would top that.”

“God,” Peter groans, running a hand over his face. “If I hear the word ‘binding’ used one more time…”

“But,” Tony says, holding up a stern finger as he starts the car. “As soon as we get back to your place, we’re finishing up that presentation in time for your miraculous recovery tomorrow, got it?”

“We?” Peter raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you even speak Spanish?”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “I know French and Italian—close enough. More importantly, I am fluent in the language of bullshit, kid. I once convinced an entire board of investors that not adding a clock feature to the new Starkphone prototype was a philosophical statement about the ‘futility of time as a construct’ rather than an embarrassing oversight caused by deadline crunches, no sleep, and more caffeine flowing through my veins than red blood cells.”

“And how did that go?” Peter asks.

“Sold twelve thousand shares that day. And I got to meet the Dalai Lama.”

Peter just snorts.

“Oh, and there was this other time,” Tony goes on wryly, “when I helped my intern play hooky to get out of a school presentation by convincing the nurse he had the shits.”

Peter leans back against the seat with a heavy sigh. “I’m never doing this again, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles.

X

Link to all my fics

If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: 

Karmaitis

Give the Kid an Oscar

You Broke Tony

[dailysaskia]

When/where: Cam’s birthday karaoke

Who: Saskia and @harryabrams​

Warnings: nothing, it’s just. a lil private moment away from the party.

Word Count: 1,733

although it very much wasn’t harry’s scene, he wasn’t having the worst time at cam’s karaoke party. after a few drinks, the constant broadway didn’t seem as bad, and when saskia came over to the bar where he was sat, he was glad of a situation to spend time with her. “hey,” he said as she approached, sitting up and smiling softly. “having a good time?”

saskia had paid her dues, sang a a solo or two and duetted with cam, but she figured she could take a step back from all the fun to go get a drink and spend a little time with harry. she ordered a martini and then sat down next to him. "hey," she said, smiling back. "yeah, well enough. no one's laughed me out of the bar at my singing so i think it's been a success. how about you? i know this isn't your typical scene."

harry smiled, “i thought you were great,” he said genuinely, moving to slide his card over as the bartender brought her drink. “let me,” he told her, “i was going to ask if i could get you a drink.” he glanced around and shrugged, still smiling softly, “i’m alright. there’s a bar so i can hardly complain.”

saskia's smile softened. "thank you," she murmured, reaching out to squeeze his arm quickly, before anyone could see, and then pulling her hand back. "fair and true. if i can't persuade you to sing, could we dance again at least?"

harry smiled at that, taking another sip of his drink, “i suppose i couldn’t say no to dancing, we did it so well together last time,” he chuckled, feeling lighter already from talking with her. he definitely was crushing hard.

saskia bit her lip and stared down at her drink, trying to hide her flush. "it was a lovely time, wasn't it?" she said, her smile growing at the memory. she took a sip of her drink as well. "might have to adjust a bit if we don't want everyone and their moms to ask what's going on with us though. they're such a nosy lot."

"it was," he agreed, before chuckling and nodding. "yes, i think we might. my mom already texts me every other day to ask if i'm seeing anyone." he finished his drink and moved to hold his hand out to her anyway as miles and zeke sung an interesting version of break my heart by dua lipa, pulling her onto the dance floor and grinning.

saskia took his hand, placing her now-empty martini glass back on the counter and standing up. "aw, she's sweet. she just wants what's best for you," she murmured. "but i know what you mean. my mom always wants to have girltalk about boys and i have to tell her to butt out of it." the sound of zeke and miles' creative interpretation of their song made her giggle, and she shook her head before facing harry on the dance floor.

harry kept a safe distance between them as they danced, but took her hand to spin her under his arm, grinning softly and laughing at miles and zeke. turns out letting loose every so often was that bad.

saskia twirled as harry guided her, trying not to let herself get too close, despite the fact that she wanted to kiss, especially when he had that fond look on his face.

harry chuckled, squeezing her hand as they danced through a few songs. but when someone moved onto a ballad from a musical harry didn’t know, he pulled her gently through the crowd. “wanna get some fresh air? i could use a smoke,” he said against her ear.

"sure, that'd be lovely," saskia said, following him through the crowd and into the cool air outside. this was nice, and she could actually hear him properly even with them speaking at a normal volume.

harry led her out and pulled to a stop, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “i feel like its polite to ask you if you want one but also its a bad habit so you definitely shouldn’t have one. dya want one?” he popped one into his mouth, glancing at her as he lit it.

saskia patted his shoulder lightly and shook her head, amused by his explanation. "i don't smoke, so i'm good but i do appreciate that you asked," she said. though she knew smoking was a terrible habit, she couldn't help but think he looked ridiculously hot with a cigarette between his lips.

harry nodded and smiled softly, putting away the packet and breathing out above them. “sorry, i’m cutting down but i still struggle not to on nights out.”

"it's all good," she said, reaching out to take the hand that wasn't holding a cigarette in hers. "honestly, i'm not sure what it says about me but i find it kind of hot," she admitted.

harry chuckled softly at that, squeezing her hand back as he smoked with the other. “really?” he murmured, his thumb running gently over the back of her hand.

saskia shrugged, going a bit red and trying to distract herself by pushing a stubbornly loose lock of hair behind her ear with her free hand. "yeah... guess it's kind of the whole bad-boy look thing," she said. "i dunno. it doesn't totally makes sense. the rational part of me knows smoking is awful for you."

harry smiled, squeezing her hand again, “yeah, i need to quit,” he murmured, “its my one vice.” he glanced at his cigarette then, only half smoked but he dropped it and stubbed it out with his foot. “eh, i really just wanted some time with you, than to smoke.”

"i think everyone gets to have one vice," she teased. "i probably have several." she tilted her shead to the side, scrunching up her nose at her own admission. she turned to face him fully once he'd stubbed the cigarette out, and instead leaned up on her toes so that she could press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "hi. you're sweet."

harry smiled and shook his head, “i doubt that,” he murmured, meeting her eyes as she moved closer to kiss the corner of his mouth, his hand lifting to cup her cheek and smiling wider as she pulled back, “hi,” he breathed, thumb moving gently over her cheek. “you’re beautiful.”

she ducked her head and blushed, leaning into his hand. "oh shut up," she said, hiding her face against his shoulder. she didn't know why compliments from him specifically got her so flustered. usually she was so confident that she absorbed them almost instantly.

harry’s smile softened, his arms sliding around her, but reaching to tilt her head up gently, figuring they were far enough away from any of their friends out here, leaning down to kiss her just softly.

saskia smiled against his mouth as they kissed slowly outside, the dull thrum of the music from the bar fading as she lost herself in the moment. she slid one of her arms around his neck, tilting her head up to get a better angle.

harry pressed closer to her, tilting his head as he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding into her hair, his heart racing in his chest. he pulled back after a few moments, catching his breath and grinning softly as he rested his forehead against hers. “you’re incredible,” he breathed.

saskia felt like she could easily get lost in harry’s eyes. she felt like she’d fall into them and never find her way back. “yeah? you really think so?” she murmured, leaning into him.

“yeah,” he replied easily, brushing her hair behind her ear, his eyes sparkling slightly. “i really think so. i love that i already know you so well, but now i get the chance to know you like this, and i feel very lucky.”

saskia smiled, ducking her head. "it's funny... i feel like i've had a crush on you for years, but we used to see each other so infrequently before i moved here," she admitted quietly. "it was one of those things where i always thought it'd be nice, but i never thought you'd be interested."

harry grinned softly, “i’ve liked you for ages, saskia, i just- its difficult with friends. i never wanted to risk ruining our friendship, but the idea of more with you... i can’t help myself anymore, not if you feel the same.”

"we've both been so silly," saskia said, laughing a bit at the thought. "we could've tested the waters so much sooner." she looked back up at him, and pressed another kiss to his lips, already missing the feeling of them against hers.

harry chuckled and nodded, leaning in to meet her for the kiss, cupping her cheek gently. it had been a long time since he'd felt such a connection to someone, and harry felt like a fool for not having noticed sooner how incredible this could be. "we should go back inside so no one wonders, but i really just wanna stay here kissing you," he murmured against her lips as he pulled back slightly.

saskia made a humming noise against his lips that she hoped he recognized as agreement, and continued to kiss him for a few more minutes, before they pulled back properly. "at least we'll have monday to ourselves," she said, smiling up at him.

harry kissed her back slowly, stroking over her cheek gently with his thumb, pulling back and nodding, “i can’t wait,” he said, taking her hands and stepping back.

"me neither," she said, squeezing his fingers before glancing back over at the door to the bar. "should we go back in?" she asked him, albeit a bit reluctantly, having enjoyed their brief moment alone.

harry nodded, leaning down to sneak another quick kiss before squeezing her hands. “i suppose we must,” he murmured, moving to lead her back inside.

saskia smiled against his lips and then sighed as they pulled back, squeezing his fingers until they were back inside, and then dropping them. "back to the party then?"

harry nodded, squeezing her hand back, before sighing as he dropped it, moving his hands into his pockets. “back to the party,” he agreed, feeling a little sad to have to go back to pretending, but only more excited for their upcoming date.

[bbloomjoon]

BTS seeing you for the first time

Jin

As soon as a smile had appeared on Jin’s face, the other boys were already groaning at the upcoming joke that Jin was about to tell them. They just wanted a nice walk through town, not bad dad jokes.

“How do you make,” Jin cut himself off when he started laughing. The other members gave each other looks as Jin continued to laugh. He quieted himself down before continuing, “How do you make an octopus laugh?” He waited for a few seconds, giving the uninterested boys time to anticipate the answer. “With ten-tickles.” He erupted in laughter again, almost doubling over due to his intense laughing. The others rolled their eyes, some grumbling about how lame the joke was.

Jin, deep down in his heart, wasn’t expecting laughter from anybody else- the others had gotten too used to his jokes. But behind him came more laughing. He turned around to see who it was that was laughing along with him.

You weren’t trying to walk so close to the people in front of you and you definitely weren’t trying to listen in on their conversation. But you overheard one of them tell a joke- a very bad yet corny joke- and you couldn’t hold in your laughter. You were still laughing when the jokester turned around, too busy laughing to notice.

Jin doesn’t want to say that the world stopped spinning when he saw you, but he definitely felt the world stop. Your smile was captivating and he found it hard to look away. And your laugh, oh your laugh. Jin wanted to listen to it for hours and never grow tired of it. He thought you were stunning and he wanted to make you laugh more.

Your laughter calmed down and you wiped the tears from your eyes, finally looking at who was in front of you. You gave him a smile, silently thanking him for telling that joke. Jin smiled back at you before speaking again, “Why did the crab not want to share? Because he was shellfish.” His heart skipped a beat when he saw your smile get bigger, knowing that he was going to be pulling out all of his jokes on you.

Yoongi

He hated crowded places, he really did. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t find inspiration in them sometimes.

Yoongi tapped his pen against the table he was sitting at in irritation. He’s been in this loud coffee shop for almost two hours and nothing has come to him. All he has is an empty coffee cup and blank paper staring back at him. He stood up to leave but stopped when the bell on the door rang. He looked towards the noise and almost did a double take when he saw you walk in.

You walked to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee, smiling at the barista as you handed him the money for your drink before sitting down at a table. You took a sip from your cup and looked around, your eyes meeting with the handsome stranger across the shop. You smiled at him and waved, laughing softly when he blushed and looked away from you.

Yoongi sat back down, his face burning. He sneaked another look at you, watching the way you sipped at your coffee while you stared out the window. You were still smiling as you tapped your fingers to an unheard tune. The light from the window made your eyes shine bright, brighter than anything Yoongi had seen before.

You caught his gaze again, smile getting bigger. He was about to look away from you until he saw you move the chair across from you. You pushed it out a few inches with your foot, you gaze flicking between the chair and his eyes. You stared at hm for a few more seconds before turning back to the window.

You wanted him to sit with you.

Yoongi looked at his blank paper and weighed his options. He could either ignore his work and sit with you or he could leave the shop now and finally get some lyrics written.

Yoongi gathered all of his things and made his way over to your table. He cleared his throat, gaining your attention immediately, “Is this seat taken?”

“No, it’s all your if you want it,” You watched as he sat down across from you and held your hand out for him, “My name is Y/n.”

He shook your hand, holding onto it for a few more seconds before letting it go, “Yoongi.”

“Yoongi,” You whispered out, testing the name on your tongue. You gave him another smile, “Nice to meet you, Yoongi.”

Maybe he found the inspiration he was looking for after all.

Hoseok

The library was usually filled with people, but Hoseok was relieved to see that the library was almost empty when he walked in. He pulled his face mask off and put it on his bag, no longer feeling the need for it with so little people around. He greeted the librarian as he walked past the desk, giving her a bright smile before making his way to the shelves. He weaved through the different shelves, picking up whichever book caught his eye.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone enter the shelves, moving until they were basically standing next to him. He assumed it was a fan that had saw him walk in and had to stop himself from sighing as he waited for the fan to begin speaking. Instead of speaking, he watched the fan reach up the shelf, their fingers grazing over the spine of a book. He heard them huff, annoyed that the book was just out of their reach.

“Excuse me,” Your voice called out to him. He turned to look at you and felt his grip on his books loosen. You were absolutely stunning. You smiled at him before continuing, “Could you help me reach that book, please?” You pointed up at the book you had just tried reaching. He nodded and grabbed the book you wanted. He handed it to you and watched as your smile got bigger, “Thank you so much!” You nodded your head to him in thanks before turning on your heel and leaving the shelves.

Hoseok, breaking out of his silent trance, left after you and looked around for you. He found you sitting at one of the library’s tables, book opened as your eyes skimmed through the pages. You looked so at peace as you read that he might have mistaken you as a statue if you hadn’t spoken to him mere seconds ago. You still had a smile on your face and Hoseok felt as if your smile outshined the sun.

He took in a breath and approached your table, setting his books down by the seat across from you. You looked up at the noise, relaxing when you noticed that it was him. He sat down in the chair and tapped his finger on the table in the space between the two of you, “What are you reading?”

Your eyes seemed to light up as you immediately began talking about the book in your hand and how it was your favorite. Hoseok rested his head in his hand, his own eyes softening as your voice filled his mind.

Namjoon

Everyone had been working hard the past few weeks, so when a day off came around everyone jumped at the chance for a small break.

Namjoon decided on spending his time by riding around town, more specifically the park that was just a few minutes away. He enjoyed riding along the trees, sunlight streaming through the leaves and leaving patterns on the ground. Next to him was a small river that ran through the park, the bubbling water creating noise to fill the silence as he rode. It was isolated in the park, a bit unusual for this time but nothing that Namjoon minded too bad.

He halted to a stop, allowing himself to rest a bit but also to adore the beauty of nature. His eyes trailed over the many trees and bushes that grew around him before he started following the movement of the water upstream. His eyes landed on a figure standing next to the river about twenty feet in front of him. He quickly noticed that it was someone throwing bread in the river for the ducks surrounding them.

You picked off pieces from the bread in your hands and tossed it out for the ducks. You giggled at them as they launched themselves towards the bread, their beaks making the water splash as they ate. You tossed more bread out for them, smile falling from your face when you noticed that one duck in the back didn’t get any bread. You broke off a good size piece for him and stepped forward, leaning over and reaching out to the duck. You were still too far away from him. You leaned down some more and shuffled closer to the edge of the river. A gasp left your lips as you slipped and fell into the river head first.

Namjoon, who was watching you feed the ducks, dropped his bike and ran over to where you had fallen. The river wasn’t deep so he wasn’t scared you would drown, but he did want to help you out and make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Are you okay?” He grabbed your arm and gently helped you out of the river. He ran his eyes over you, checking for any bruises or cuts.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Guess I lost my footing while trying to feed the ducks,” You laughed at your own foolishness. You moved a strand of wet hair from your face, looking up at the man who helped you, “Thank you.”

Namjoon was going to answer back but felt his words get caught in his throat. Even with your clothes soaking wet and leaves stuck in your equally wet hair, he thought you were gorgeous. You smiled at him and he snapped out of his daze, “Oh, you’re welcome.” He looked at your wet clothes, “Here,” He took his jacket off and put it around your shoulders. “Let me take you to get some new clothes.”

“Oh, no!” You shook your head, “I can’t let you do that!”

He smiled, “I insist. Besides, I wouldn’t let anyone walk around in soaking clothes, especially not a pretty girl like you.”

Jimin

Jungkook wanted to go shopping and decided that it would be a wonderful idea to drag along Jimin and Taehyung with him. Jimin yawned as they walked down the street, silently cursing Jungkook for waking him up from his nap to go shopping.

“Tired, hyung?” Jungkook smirked at him, knowing full well that Jimin was slightly upset with him. Jimin didn’t respond to him. Instead, he reached up and pinched Jungkook’s neck, laughing when Jungkook cried out in faux pain.

As they continued their shopping trip, their eyes caught the sight of street performers. They were just starting to play music and they already had a good-sized crowd. Jungkook nudged Jimin to the middle of the clearing, “Dance, hyung!” Jimin glared at him before a smile broke out on his face a split second later. As he began to dance, he heard the crowd cheer for him, the smile on his face getting bigger. It reminded him of being on stage and made him want to do his best for those watching him. He started pulling out his best dance moves, happy when the crowd began cheering louder.

All of a sudden, the cheers from the crowd began to reach roaring volumes, startling Jimin. He turned around to face the crowd when he saw you. You had approached the clearing and were dancing, laughing softly at the cheering the crowd was giving you. Jimin watched as you dance, your movements elegant as you let the music guide you. You turned around, meeting Jimin’s eyes, and made your way over to him. You grabbed his hands and began to dance with him, smiling up at him as you lead him in the dance. Jimin smiled back at you and matched his movements with yours. His hands left your own and settled on your hips, giving them a quick squeeze before resuming the dance. You raised a brow at him, laughing when he wiggled his brows at you.

The music died down and Jimin pulled you closer to him, ending the dance between the two of you. The crowd cheered louder at your ending move, clapping and whistling coming from the crowd as well. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, staring into Jimin’s eyes. He mirrored your actions while still smiling at you. He licked his lips, “You’re a pretty good dancer. Think you could teach me some of your moves?”

Taehyung

“Ride, ride, ride, ride, ride!” All of the boys chanted as the waited for the roller coaster. All of them except Hoseok, who was grumbling about being forced to ride.

As soon as the gates opened, they rushed forward to get in their seat.

Four rows, two to a row, seven boys, and one spot left open. The roller coaster’s attendant frowned as he got to Taehyung, the unlucky one who was left with the empty seat beside him. The attendant turned to the other waiting guests, “Are there any single riders?”

Your hand shot up as you made your way to the front of the line, “Me.” The attendant opened the gate for you and helped you into your seat, lowering the bar and locking the two of you in the coaster’s car.

Taehyung was too busy yelling at the front car as he tried talking to Yoongi to even notice you entering the car beside him. The attendant spoke his words of caution for the ride, counted down from ten, and started the ride. The cars began moving and started their slow ascension up the lift hill. Taehyung smiled as the cars got closer and closer to the top before they stopped, pausing for a few seconds before shooting down the tracks. He laughed loudly as the wind whipped through his hair.

You screamed as the cars went down and grabbed the hand of the person beside you, squeezing it tightly as the ride got faster and faster. Taehyung glanced down at your hand and let go of the bar with his hand and held yours, allowing you to hold his hand correctly during your need for comfort. You squeezed his hand again when the ride went through a loop.

For the next five minutes, Taehyung’s hand served as a stress ball substitute. He didn’t mind at all- he was still able to enjoy the ride while you held on to his hand like it was your lifeline. You were still holding his hand when the ride came to a stop.

While he waited for the attendant to let them out of the ride, Taehyung glanced over at you to see how you were doing. Your eyes were shut tightly, eyebrows knit together. You peaked an eye open when you heard laughing from beside you. You opened your eyes and looked at Taehyung, slightly confused as to why he was laughing.

“So cute,” Taehyung looked from you to your hand that was still holding on to his.

You blushed and took your hand away from his, “Sorry. This ride was scarier than I thought.”

“I don’t mind.” The attendant came to your car and released the bar, allowing the two of you to exit the ride. You followed Taehyung to the exit, about to go your own way when he grabbed your hand again and pulled you back to him. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing but he beat you to it, “Do you want to hang out with me? You said you were a single rider, right? Do you want to join me for the rest of the day?” Taehyung smiled at you as he waited for your answer.

You smiled back at him, “Sure.” You felt him squeeze your hand and you squeezed his back.

Jungkook

“Are you excited to see me?” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows at you, knowing that you couldn’t see them through the phone.

“Oh, yeah. I am so excited to see your stupid face.” You laughed as you heard him scoff in response to your sarcasm. “Just don’t forget to pick me up at the airport.”

“I think I’ll leave you behind and go get the new Mario game that came out.” He gave his phone a big grin, loving the way how he could practically hear you roll your eyes. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Don’t wait too long for me, nerd.” He didn’t give you the chance to yell out a worse nickname at him as he hung up on you. He jumped into his car and began his trip to the airport to pick you up.

You and Jungkook had known each other for about a year, but had never met each other. You two became friends one day when you beat him in a video game. He had sent you a message afterwards demanding a rematch to which you happily gave him. You quickly became friends with the boy who had trouble beating you but continued to demand rematches. Just playing video games together eventually lead to exchanging numbers and sending each other terrible memes all day. Jungkook had convinced you to fly out to see him in person, persuading you with free snacks your entire time with him.

Jungkook arrived at the airport, parked his car, and entered the airport’s arrival hall to look for you. He scanned the sea of people in the hall, being unable to spot you. He brought his hands up and cupped them around his mouth, “Nerd! Where are you!” The people around him glared at him for yelling loudly so early in the morning.

“Would you shut up? Stop talking before you lose your last braincell.” You tapped his on his shoulder. He turned around to face you, comeback disappearing from his mind as he saw you. The two of you had exchanged picture many times in the past, but it compares nothing to seeing you in person.

Your eyes held a mischievous look in them and your lips were pulled up in a smirk as you waited for him to speak his insults to you. You dropped your bag beside you and crossed your arms over your chest, “Did you finally decide to spare humanity by no longer spewing your nonsense, dork?”

Upon hearing your favorite nickname to call him, he pulled in you for a hug, loving the way you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Who Waits For Love (Chapter 7)

Summary: T.J. Kippen lost his chance to tell Cyrus Goodman how he felt when they were in the 8th grade. Now, they are in their junior year of high school and Cyrus is on his 3rd relationship. Is it time to give up… or continue to wait for love?

A/N: First, I’m so sorry because of how horribly delayed this chapter was, due to the unexpected occurrence of me getting sick! I’m still a little sick but I’m getting better! Thank you to everyone who sent their concerns my way! And, second, this chapter feels rushed cause a lot of things are happening at once, but trust me, I’ve had this setup planned from the beginning because I didn’t want to drag the story on and on, especially with all the upcoming angst.

And with that final note...Enjoy!

It had been days since T.J. and Cyrus last hung out. Sure, he would pick him up for school in the morning and drive him home after and they would have lunch together with their friends. But other than those, they haven’t spent much time together…alone.

Aidan had been hanging around him a lot more ever since their date. The brunette would wait for him in the mornings with some kind of treat, and sometimes, T.J. would drive him home, too. During these times, Cyrus would disappear.

He wondered if his friend had an issue with Aidan but Cyrus had always given people chances and get to know them (like what he did with T.J.), so this behavior was a little off-putting and strange.

And, furthermore, T.J. just missed him. So, he was thrilled when Cyrus agreed to come over his house after school to help him study for his upcoming Trigonometry test.

Cyrus was a good teacher. He was patient and had no problem repeating things until T.J. understood. If he was certified in specialized tutoring for dyscalculia, T.J. would have insisted that he be his tutor instead of the one provided by the school. (She was nice and all but he wasn’t her only student. There were 3 others in the whole of Grant who also had dyscalculia so she had to divide her time between them. She couldn’t always give T.J. her full attention.)

It had been two hours since they started studying. Sitting with his legs underneath him at his desk, T.J.’s head was filled with nothing else but sine, cosine, and tangent functions. He was starting to doze off. Cyrus’ voice started to sound like a soothing buzz in his ears. He wanted to just lie his head down and nap.

“T.J., what’s the answer?”

He blinked and looked down at the equation he had been trying to solve. He was pretty sure he messed up somewhere.

“Um… 42?”

From his spot on top of T.J.’s bed, Cyrus sighed and put the textbook down. “Let’s take a break.”

“Thank you!”

Relived that he could rest his exhausted brain, T.J. plopped his head on top of his arms on the desk and closed his eyes.

He wanted to drift off but knew that he shouldn’t. He still had a lot of ground to cover. So, he would just rest.

“So… how are things between you and Aidan?”

T.J. opened his eyes and peeked at Cyrus, still sitting on his bed, watching him.

“Um… fine, I guess.”

Cyrus cutely pursed his lips. “Have you gone out on your second date?” he continued to ask.

“No. He’s asked me a couple of times. But, I’ve been too busy.”

Plus, he figured it was best not to get Aidan’s hopes up. But, he had to admit, the guy was determined. Not to brag or anything, but it wasn’t the first time T.J. had been pursued. However, most gave up fairly soon. Aidan, so far, just kept asking, never deterred by T.J.’s polite refusals.

It was cute and yeah, it felt good. But, he knew that he had to be firm with him one of these days and reject him properly. He wouldn’t feel so bad about it if Aidan wasn’t so nice.

T.J. flashed Cyrus a smirk. “Why? Are you jealous?” he teased.

To his surprise, the brunette just coughed and abruptly changed the subject. “So, did you see the posters for the Spring Formal? Andi made them.”

Chuckling to himself, T.J. raised his head and nodded. “Yeah. She’s in the committee, right?”

“Yeah, she figured since Amber’s not around, she might as well do something productive for the Dance. She’s handling PR and some of the décor.” Cyrus pursed his lips. “Are you…thinking about asking Aidan?”

T.J. didn’t even think about that so he just shrugged. “What about you?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Are you asking anyone?”

His heart thundered against his chest as he waited for Cyrus’ answer.

The brunette also shrugged. “Still thinking about it.”

T.J. tried to ignore the way his heart fell. “Oh.”

Whoever that guy was, he was a lucky bastard.

He forced a grin. “In that case, try not to step on his feet when you’re dancing.”

Cyrus’ mouth fell open in offense at the jibe. “Excuse me?! I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent dancer! I took dance lessons!”

T.J. snorted. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really!” Looking determined, Cyrus jumped off the bed and flashed T.J. a challenging look. “I’ll show you who can dance!”

Then, to the blonde’s amusement, he began to dance. And he was using the term quite loosely. It involved a lot of jazz hands, shaking his hips, flailing his arms, and spinning.

“You can’t do better than me!” he gleefully cheered.

That sounded like a challenge and everyone knew that T.J. could never resist a challenge.

Getting to his feet, T.J. also began to move his body. A few body rolls here. Waving his arms there. Spinning. He wasn’t entirely sure if his made up routine was any better than Cyrus’ but the boy was laughing and amping up his own moves so it must be pretty good.

There was no music but by some miracle, they were still moving to some kind of beat.

Playfully, T.J. reached out and grabbed Cyrus’ hand and twirled him under his arm. The brunette let out a delighted squeal, spinning himself back into T.J.’s arms.

T.J. spun him again and brought him close, his hands instinctively meeting the smaller boy’s waist. Cyrus giggled, his own hands moving up to wrap around T.J.’s neck, his cold fingers meeting the little hairs there. It made the blonde shiver but he didn’t let go.

They were suddenly swaying to the unheard music.  

“What are we doing?” Cyrus asked, still giggling.

“Slow dancing? It’s a must for every Dance, Underdog! You’ve slow-danced before, right?”

Cyrus shrugged. “I danced with Freddie at the Winter Formal last year… but, he stepped on my foot so we stopped.”

T.J. laughed, remembering.

He had been standing on the side of the school gym, a cup of punch in his hands, silently jealous as he watched Cyrus dance with his then-boyfriend…until the foot-stepping incident, anyway.

“Oh, yeah,” he teased, grinning. “He ruined your shoes.”

“They were pure, 100 percent Italian leather!”

“Well, then, hopefully, whoever you slow-dance with this time won’t step on your foot and ruin any expensive leather.”

“Or I can just dance with you.”

He was sure it didn’t mean anything, but T.J. still felt his cheeks turn red. 

“Yeah,” he managed with a soft smile. “You can do that. I’ll dance with you all night, if you want me to.”

Their swaying had slowed and the distance between them had somehow become non-existent. He wasn’t sure if he had pulled him closer or if Cyrus, himself, stepped closer. But, they were now practically chest-to-chest.

The brunette raised his chin and met his eyes, peering at him from under long lashes as he bit his bottom lip. T.J.’s gaze flicked over to them, biting his own lip and swallowing the lump in his throat.

“T.J.?” came the soft call, making him look up again to see Cyrus watching him.

“Cyrus,” he breathed, feeling himself lean in as his resolve weakened.

He loved him so much and wanted to be with him, so badly. He held off on his feelings for so long, putting Cyrus’ own happiness before his. But, it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to hold him in his arms like this…to kiss him…

It felt like time was slowing down. Cyrus’ eyes were fluttering, almost as if he wanted to shut them but didn’t want to miss what T.J. was doing. Meanwhile, T.J.’s heart was speeding up and wondered if it was loud enough for Cyrus to hear.

Their lips were only mere millimeters away from each other. It was so easy for T.J. to just take the plunge and go for it. Just plant a kiss right there on those pretty pink lips...

“Boys! Take a break! I made cookies!”

Just like that, T.J. felt himself jump away from Cyrus, his hands leaving the latter’s waist. His heart still wasn’t calming down and he could feel his face practically burning. Nonetheless, he was a half-disappointed and half-relieved at the interruption.

Disappointed because he didn’t get to kiss Cyrus like he wanted. Relieved because he didn’t want it to happen like this. He didn’t want to force a kiss on him.  

“U-Um… we should go,” was all he could say.

In front of him, Cyrus had his gaze trained on the floor. “Y-Yeah… Um… Can you give me a minute? I just… uh… I need to check on something… on my phone.”

“Yeah… yeah…”

With a nod, T.J. quickly left, leaving Cyrus still standing there in the middle of his bedroom.

In the hallway, he leaned against the wall and sighed. Whether it was from relief or frustration, he wasn’t really sure, anymore.

And his heart still refused to calm down.

They didn’t talk about it when they were eating his mom’s cookies and drinking juice. They didn’t talk about it when they went back to studying. And not a word was mentioned when Cyrus said goodbye and T.J. watched him walking to his dad’s car from the porch.

As the taillights disappeared, the longing in T.J. only grew.

……........

“Wow, Andi really outdid herself,” Cyrus said, sounding impressed.

T.J. had to agree as they both stared at the giant pink banner hanging from the banister, with the words “Spring Formal This Friday At 7pm!” emblazoned in glittery blue letters and surrounded by paintings of flowers, birds, and hearts. Around them, posters announcing the Dance were tacked onto every bulletin board and taped to every wall.

It was like they were trying to nudge T.J. into asking Cyrus since the brunette didn’t say anything about having a date, yet.

“Have you asked the guy you wanted to ask?” he casually brought up as Cyrus walked him to his locker. 

The other boy shook his head. “Not yet. I was thinking about how I’m gonna ask. Like, should I do a promposal, like what everyone else is doing? Or should I just go for it and ask? What do you think?

T.J.’s chest ached as he replied, “I say go for it.”

They finally reached his locker.

Cyrus flashed him a smile. “You think so? I’m kind of scared he’d say ‘no’.”

“Who would say ‘no’ to you, Underdog? I wouldn’t.”

Cyrus’ face flushed. “R-Really?”

T.J. returned the smile as he opened his locker. “Yeah. Why? Are you asking me?” he couldn’t help but tease.

Cyrus visibly swallowed. He looked a little nervous all of a sudden.

“Well… actually, there is something I wanted to ask…”

A seed of hope blossomed inside T.J.’s chest. Was Cyrus really going to ask him?

“Hey, guys.”

Trying not to be so obvious with his irritation at the interruption, T.J. flashed the newcomer a friendly smile.

“Hey, Aidan,” he greeted.

The other brunette boy stopped in front of them.

“Got you an apple fritter,” he said, holding out a paper bag for T.J. to take.

He didn’t want to accept but he also didn’t want to be rude so he took it.

“Well, I’m gonna head to my locker,” Cyrus announced.

“Wait, weren’t you going to ask me something?” T.J. blurted out in a panic, not wanting him to leave yet.

Cyrus flashed him a strained smile. “It’s not a huge deal. I’ll see you, guys, later.”

And with that, he walked away.

Disappointed, T.J. continued to watch him from afar until he disappeared in the crowd. He was so caught up in his own inner turmoil that he almost didn’t hear Aidan’s question.

“Do you have a date for the Spring Formal, yet?”

He turned to him. “No, not yet,” he replied, honestly.

Aidan brightened up and it made the dread pool in T.J.’s stomach. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“So… would you like to go with me?”

T.J. swallowed. It was time. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Aidan…”

He locked eyes with the brunette. The other boy looked anxious with the way his hands tightened around the straps of his backpack. Yet, hopeful at the same time because he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation, beaming that bright smile.

T.J. felt awful. “I’m flattered, I really am. But… I can’t go to the Formal with you. I… don’t feel the same way.”

Slowly but surely, the sparkle in Aidan’s eyes dimmed as his smile disappeared. “Oh…”

“It’s not you!” T.J. added, quickly. “Honestly, you’re a really great guy. You’re sweet and nice and funny and…I bet you any other guy or girl would have no issue going out with you. But, I…”

He trailed off, unsure about going further.

But, Aidan appeared to understand. “You like someone else, already, right?”

T.J. swallowed again and nodded.

“It’s Cyrus… right?”

T.J.’s eyes widened. “How did you…?”

Chuckling, Aidan shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, at first. But, the more I got to know you and your friends, the more it became obvious. I should have backed off when I realized but I just really liked you, T.J.” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you both. I think I’ve been upsetting him by hanging around you too much.” He smiled in a friendly way. “You should ask him.”

T.J. hung his head. “I don’t know. I want to. God, I really want to. But, I don’t know how he’ll react.”

Aidan reached out and patted his arm. “Well, you won’t know unless you ask.”

For someone who just got rejected, he seemed to take it well. And he was fine with giving T.J. dating advice? Aidan really was a great guy. And he had to admire his guts, too. He liked T.J. and he went for it.

Maybe he should take a page from his book.

By the time they bid each other goodbye (Aidan had now fully accepted defeat and told him he was backing off), T.J. was determined.

With his head raised high and his steps sure and confident, he made his way to Cyrus’ locker. From a distance, he could see him there, talking seriously with Jonah.

Gathering every bit of his nerve and summoning all of his so-called boundless confidence, he walked closer.

“… and I’m wondering if you’d like to go to my Spring Formal with me?”

T.J. froze in his tracks, his body going cold at the words that just left Jonah’s mouth.

Surely, Cyrus wouldn’t say ‘yes’? Surely, Jonah wasn’t the one he was going to ask. He was over his crush on Jonah. He told T.J. that many times.

He watched as Cyrus smiled and said, “Sure, Jonah. I’d love to go to your Spring Formal.”

He could practically hear the ensuing crack and crash of his heart, like a vase that someone accidentally knocked over.

He was too late again.

Turning on his heels, T.J. ran off.

……........

The ride home was filled with nothing but Cyrus’ chatter about his day. T.J. hummed in acknowledgment so his friend knew he was listening, but otherwise, he allowed Cyrus to talk. He knew that he was just waiting for the boy to bring up the Formal and Jonah.

And it made him tense. His hold on the steering wheel was tight but he was surprisingly calm. When it came to being heartbroken, he had gotten very good at hiding his true feelings.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet all day,” Cyrus asked, sounding worried.

T.J. flashed him a smile. “Yeah. Just a long day. My Trig test was pretty hard, but I think I did okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Cyrus was silent for a few beats before saying, “Alright."

He didn’t say anything for a while, the only sound was the radio playing.

“So…did Aidan ask you to the Formal?” was suddenly asked.

T.J. swallowed, not taking his eyes off the road. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“Wild guess. He looked serious this morning.”

“Yeah.”

Another beat of silence.

“So… are you going with him?”

“Uh… I haven’t decided. Maybe.”

“Oh…”

No word was said for the rest of the drive.

……........

Suffice to say, things between him and Cyrus in the next few days were…awkward.

T.J. didn’t mean to make it awkward. It was just, every time he looked at Cyrus, he would remember the way he said “yes” to Jonah’s invitation with no hesitation. And, furthermore, neither of them said a word about being each other’s dates. It was like they didn’t want anyone else to know.

Meanwhile, the rest of their friends were looking forward to the Formal. Marty and Buffy were going together, of course. And Andi was going stag but she proudly boasted about how hard she worked on her decorations.

When T.J. casually mentioned that maybe he was going to skip out on it, he had gotten a gasp of horror from her and was then made to feel guilty because he wouldn’t see her beautiful decorations. So, obviously, he now felt obligated to go.

“Hey, are we okay?” Cyrus asked him that Friday, at T.J.’s locker, hours before the Formal.

“Yeah, why?”

“It just… feels like you’re avoiding me? Or you don’t want to talk to me? Did I do something?”

T.J.’s eyes widened. “What? No! You didn’t do anything! I just…” He sighed, feeling exhaustion seep into his bones and guilt for worrying his friend. “It’s just been a long couple of days. But, things are fine, really.”

Cyrus frowned. “Are you sure?”

T.J. stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. “Yes. Things are fine.” He wanted to keep holding him but eventually, he forced himself to break away and step back. “A little fun tonight will probably do me some good. I’ll see you later?”

Cyrus, along with Buffy, was going to Andi’s to get ready and they were sleeping over, too.

The brunette still looked unsure but nodded. “I’ll see you.”

T.J. drove home alone. His mother was working until 8 that night so he got ready alone. He figured it was better, so she wouldn’t fuss over him and his hair and he could contemplate in peace.

It was the same old routine. He was always like this whenever Cyrus went on a date or got a new boyfriend. 

T.J. would wallow in self-pity for a couple of days then pretend everything was okay until he got used to the fact that Cyrus was with some other guy and not him.

So far, it worked well for him...sort of.

After styling his hair and sliding on the black suit jacket over his green button down (Cyrus often said he looked great in green because it brought out his eyes), he took a quick mirror photo and sent it to his mom.

Then, he grabbed his keys and was out the door.

He drove back to school, where the Spring Formal was to be held at the gym. He parked, sent his mom a quick text saying that he had arrived, then made his way into the building. Surrounding him were other students, all dressed to the nines in formal cocktail dresses and fancy suits.

In the hallway leading to the gym, he finally spotted a familiar face.

“Jonah!”

The brunette waved at him, his smile and dimples in full force. Damn, he looked really happy. Who wouldn't be if Cyrus was their date?

T.J.’s chest ached.

“Hey, T.J.!”

They slapped hands and fist-bumped in greeting.

“You look great,” the brunette complimented.

“Thanks. You too.”

Jonah was similarly dressed in a black suit, his formal shirt a deep red, and his hair nicely brushed. He really was a handsome guy, T.J. couldn’t deny that.

“Where are the others?”

Jonah pointed behind him. “The girls and Marty are already inside. Cyrus, too.”

T.J. furrowed his brows. “Why aren’t you in there with them?”

“Oh!” Jonah blushed, sheepishly. “My date’s in the bathroom. He’ll probably be out soon.”

Now, T.J. was definitely confused. “Your… date? But isn’t-.”

“Hey, guys.”

Jonah’s face immediately lit up. “Hey.”

A familiar bright-eyed boy walked up to them, dressed in a maroon suit with a white undershirt and a black bow tie.

“Walker?” T.J. blurted out, eyes wide. “You’re Jonah’s date?”

Jonah suddenly looked shy but Walker was beaming, his hand reaching out to link with the boy next to him.

“Yeah,” the artist replied, excitedly. “I didn’t think he would ask me but…. He really surprised me.”

Jonah grinned. “I have Cyrus to thank for that.”

T.J.’s stomach flipped. “Cyrus?”

“Yeah, he let me rehearse on him. And a good thing, too! I could barely get the words out when I asked Walker.”

“It was cute,” Walker said in a teasing tone, turning to Jonah and bumping their shoulders together. “And really sweet.”

Watching them practically flirt and send heart eyes at each other, T.J. felt stupid.

He had jumped to conclusions.

Cyrus never mentioned going to the Formal with Jonah because he never was.

“So… Cyrus doesn’t have a date?” he ended up asking.

Turning his attention back to him, Jonah furrowed his brows. “Aren’t you guys here together?”

T.J.’s throat felt dry. “Why would you think that?”

“He told me he was gonna ask you…he didn’t?” Jonah’s eyes widened in shock and panic. “Shit…sorry….I… I wasn’t supposed to tell you…I just thought…Please don’t tell Cyrus! He trusted me!”

Cyrus was going to ask him? Was T.J. dreaming? Or maybe Jonah was joking?

No, Jonah would never joke about this. He was funny and oblivious, but he would never joke about this.

So… if Cyrus wanted to go to the Formal with him, why didn’t he ask him? He had all week to ask. But, why didn’t he?

Meanwhile, Walker was rubbing a hand over Jonah’s back, calming him down. The brunette flashed him a grateful smile before turning to T.J.

“I think you should go talk to Cyrus,” he said. “It’s not too late.”

Yes, it wasn’t too late. The Dance only just started. There was still time.

T.J. had a chance. He couldn’t let it slip by.

“I gotta go! Thanks, Jonah!”

With determined steps, T.J. ran down the hall and through the gym doors.

Tag list

@androgynouspoetrycollector

@tyrusmuff1n

@thedampjofangirl

@tjsmuffin

@alyssailovespuppies

@buffy-driscool

@r4anly

@delicatesleeper

@amazingpartytattoos

@unprofessionalart

@myrandom-fandomlife

@tjshoodie

@just-fic-me-up

@tjskipping

@completelysterling @theobligatedklutz

@justeilona @literally-just-for-fanfics

@turtle0verl0rd

@angel28716

@tjlikedhimfirst

@tyrus-endgayme-confirmed 

@breadisticks

[fluffyllamas-23]

You should do that thing you just reblogged for Taylor & Audrey? Or maybe Gabe & Ezra? Either would be fantastic 😍😍❤❤

Hi, just so you know I was so excited to get this, anon, thank you??? I was actually thinking that this would work for Gabe and Ezra and I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants it omg.  Sorry this took me so long, but I hope you like it! (Min-ah belongs to @robbiefischer, they were just kind enough to let me borrow her

*

“Ezra, I just had this, and it’s miserable,” Gabe says, one hand on Ezra’s forehead and the other on the back of his neck as Ezra types lesson plans on his laptop.  

“I’m fine, I’m barely even sick, this is the worst it’s going to get,” he rasps, and clears his throat with a grimace before adding a weak, “probably.”

“You’re going to get worse if you don’t stop and rest, love,” Gabe frowns.  “Call out tomorrow.  I’m off, we can spend the day together, and you can sleep and catch up on everything. Mondays suck without a shitty cold.”

“I can’t,” Ezra snaps, twisting away from him. “Stop worrying. I have a cold. You’re a doctor, you see way worse than this all the time.”

“Okay, but you know that if you don’t take it easy, you’ll wind up with strep or tonsillitis or something. You already sound way worse than I did.”

Ezra muffles a coughing fit into the crook of his elbow, and when it finally passes, he winces and presses a fist to the center of his chest.

“I appreciate your concern, but i also have too much to do to deal with this right now.”

Ezra’s tone is edging upwards, something that only happens when he’s stressed the hell out, and Gabe runs his fingers through Ezra’s hair.  

“Sorry. What do you all have to do? Maybe I can help?”

“Um,” Ezra croaks, tugging on his hair in frustration. “I have to write three tests, make the study guides for those, grade five classes worth of assignments, and come up with the presentation schedules, which should have been done Friday….”

“Shit, that’s a lot.”

“I know…I’m usually way more prepared than this.”

“That’s probably my fault,” Gabe winces.

Ezra’s head snaps up, “what? No it isn’t, you were sick.”

“What can I help you with?”

“I don’t know,” Ezra groans, pressing his forehead to the table.

“Have you made the presentation schedules yet?”

“No.”

“I can do that, give me the names.”

“You don’t mind?”

Gabe shakes his head, “give me the list.”

“Okay,” Ezra says, bending down to grab his folder off the floor. “I have two health classes, three psych classes and I wrote all the groups out by class, but I haven’t organized them or anything.  Presentations are Monday-Thursday, three groups a day.  Go crazy.”  

The moment he’s sitting upright, his vision swims around him, and he rests his head in his folded arms with a groan.  

“Are you alright?”

“Dizzy,” Ezra mutters.  “I’m fine.”

“Dizzy is not fine, Ezra,” Gabe snaps.  

“Yes it is. I’m fine, I just changed positions too fast.”

Gabe purses his lips, “okay. When do you have to have the tests written by?”

“Um,” he rasps, rubbing his forehead. “Soon so I can make the study guide. Wednesday by the latest.”

“Want me to stop by during your free period tomorrow and I can help you?”

“I’ve been snapping at you all night,” Ezra groans, rubbing his eyes sleepily.  “Why would you want to spend more time with me than you have to?”

“Because you’re my husband, and I love you, and I know you’re only grumpy because you’re not feeling good and need to sleep,” Gabe frowns, cupping his cheek.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I only have two more weeks. I can make it two more weeks.”

Gabe manages to talk Ezra into taking Tuesday and Wednesday off that upcoming week, but instead of spending those days on the couch, underneath a blanket and watching Netflix, he spends them at the table, blanket around his shoulders as he coughs his way through everything he has to do.  

That weekend, Gabe convinces Ezra to just relax, and it seems like two days of rest is enough to get him feeling human enough to get through his last week, and by the time Friday rolls around, he’s exhausted and even though he feels better than the previous week, he’s beyond ready for a break.  He still has to grade the tests and input grades into his grade book, and just the thought of doing any of that is enough to make him want to cry.

Gabe is off the next two days, and had offered to take Ezra to and from work, and when Ezra gets into the car, he visibly deflates.

“Congratulations! You’re done!”

“Not yet, I still have to input grades,” Ezra groans, rubbing his forehead.

“Is everything all graded, or do you still have more to do?”

“No,” he mumbles.  “The tests aren’t.”

“When are grades due?”

“Monday morning at eleven.”

“Okay, so we’ll spend tonight and tomorrow morning relaxing, and then I’ll help you get everything done.”

“That sounds nice,” Ezra breathes.

“Yeah it does.  How are you feeling? You’re pale again.”

“Not great, honestly.  But not awful, I’ll live.”

“That’s good,” Gabe grins. “You probably just need one more day to rest.”

“God, I hope so.”

*

It’s Saturday morning, and even though he wakes up before Ezra at nine, he opts to let him sleep for as long as possible. When he’s not up by noon, Gabe walks into their room to check on him, and then stops dead in his tracks when he sees Ezra cocooned in their blanket, shivering so violently that his teeth are chattering.

He’s pale and clammy, his cheeks are flushed a deep red and his eyes (which are glassy from fever) have dark smudges underneath them.  

“Shit,” Gabe hisses, double-timing it over to him, and he puts his hand on Ezra’s forehead.  “Ezra, talk to me.  What’s the matter?”

Ezra opens his mouth to say something, but he’s immediately cut off by a deep, chesty coughing fit, and Gabe can actually hear his lungs crackling.  

“Ow,” he croaks.  

“Can you get up?” Gabe says urgently. “I think you might have pneumonia…it’s time for an emergency room trip.”

He’s fuzzy and out of it, and it takes Gabe much longer to get him to the car than it should.  He’s lightheaded from how incessantly he’s coughing now, and if Gabe didn’t have a hold on him, Ezra would have fallen over by now.

“No hospital,” Ezra gasps, wincing as he rubs his chest. “Don’t wanna stay.”

“I don’t think that’s up to you, love,” Gabe says, glancing at Ezra as he pulls out of the driveway.

“Yes. I’ll leave.”

“You are not leaving against medical fucking advice. Absolutely fucking not.”

Ezra shoots him a glare as he coughs into the crook of his elbow.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’ll do my best to convince whoever sees you to let me take you home, but I’m not promising anything because whatever the hell kind of temp you’re running looks miserable.”

*

“Min-ah, he doesn’t want to stay.”

She raises a brow at him, “can you blame him? I wouldn’t either.”

“Let me take him home.”

“He has pneumonia,” she says flatly. “His temp is still above one oh four. You’re not taking him home.”

Gabe rolls his eyes, “yeah I know all that. I meant after we get it down.”

“You’re a doctor. You know he needs to stay in the hospital.”

“You’re right, I am a doctor, and you know just as well as I do that he’ll be fine with me, and you know I’ll keep a close fucking eye on him.”

They stare each other down for a few minutes before she sighs in relief, “fine. But I have some conditions.”

“Okay.”

“You bring him right in if his fever gets back up to one hundred and four, or if he gets confused or disoriented at all, or if he gets short of breath or has chest pain. You will make sure he drinks water every single hour, and if I see you in the hospital in the next couple of days for any reason other than bringing him back in, I’m going to kill you myself because you need to be at home with him.”

“Deal.”

“I’m admitting him and keeping him for a few hours for observation,” she grumbles. “You can’t talk me out of that.”

“Well yeah, I’m not letting him leave until his fever is down and his sats are up.”

Gabe goes back over to where Ezra is lying, half asleep and coughing so badly that Gabe winces in sympathy and strokes his burning cheek.

“I wanna go home,” he croaks, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“I know,” Gabe says softly, stroking his cheek. “Not yet though. You just have to stay long enough for your oxygen sats to go up and your temp to go down.”

“I’m fine.”

“You have pneumonia, sweetheart. You’re so, so sick, you aren’t fine.”

Ezra groans, rubbing his eyes. “I feel better.”

“You’re lying.”

“My fever is down!” he protests weakly through a coughing fit.

“103 is still not great.”

“But-“

“I’m pulling the doctor card. You aren’t leaving until it gets down to 101.”

*

It takes most of the night and well into the morning for Ezra to be stable enough that he can leave, and when he is, Gabe helps him change out of the hospital gown and back into his clothes, and then into a wheelchair.

He’s still pale and shaky and glassy-eyed, and just looks all around miserable…and Gabe hates it.

“Ready?” Gabe asks, helping him into the car.

“I was ready when i got here,” Ezra gripes, crossing his arms.

“Stop pouting. You were too sick to leave last night, I know you wanted to, but it wasn’t happening.”

“Can we just leave?” He rasps.  “Please? I want to go lie down.”

“Of course,” Gabe says, leaning down to kiss his cheek.  “Do you want me to stop and get you some mac n cheese from Panera?”

“No,” Ezra mumbles.  “Well…can you drop me off and then go get it? I know it’s out of the way, but that sounds good….”

“Ezra, I got you sick and now you have pneumonia,” Gabe says firmly. “You can have whatever you want.  I would cut off my left arm if you wanted me to.”

A smile tugs at his lips, “that’s a little bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Gabe chuckles lightly, “Maybe a little. Point is, you can have anything.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.  “I just want bed…and mac n cheese.”

“That can definitely be arranged.”

[saltyteru]

First Kiss Pt. 2

| Soldier: 76 | Reaper | Reinhardt |

part one

Soldier: 76

You grunted as you lifted up the barbell, your muscles tending as you used your strength, testing out the new addition to the weights; going for 20 lbs heavier than usual. You held the correct foot stance as you did your best not to crumble beneath the weights. Sweat beaded at your temple as you lowered yourself into a squat before standing back up, repeating it until you were interrupted by your lover clearing his throat.

“What are you doing up so early?” Jack asked, leaning against the door frame of the gym, his face — surprisingly — not covered by his visor, his bare eyes lingering on you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” You said, “Figured I might as well pass the time with training.”

Jack noticed your struggle with the weights right away. From the awkward position your hands were in to the irritated expression you held as you stood up. He walked fully into the gym, taking off his signature leather “76” jacket, placing it on a nearby bench before making his way over to you.

“Let me help.” He murmured, rolling his neck.

You gulped as you looked over at him; the way his grey undershirt cling to his torso was mesmerizing — no matter how many times you saw him in a simple tank top, you were always flustered. The affect he had on you was powerful, unknowningly able to make you weak in the knees once you caught sight of him.

“Sure.” You smiled, accidentally letting the barbell slip from your grasp, sending the weights to the ground; directly onto your right foot.

You winced, trying not to show much signs of pain, playing it off as if it were nothing. Jack had questioned if you were alright, telling you to be more careful and that — if you were hurting — to tell him.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.” You forced your words to be clear, hiding the stinging ache in the top of your foot.

Jack gave you a skeptical glance, unsure whether to believe you — soon coming to the conclusion that you were stating the truth. He simply nodded before helping you lift the barbell. You bit your bottom lip, your teeth digging into your skin to distract yourself from discomfort.

“Go sit down.” Jack’s tone held a bit of authority in each syllable, making your shoulders slump in defeat; there was no way he’d let you continue training once he noticed your expression in agony.

“Fine.” You huffed, limping over to the bench where Jack’s jacket was tossed to, reluctantly sitting down, avoiding to put pressure onto your foot.

Your eyes followed Jack’s movements. The way his back muscles flexed as he lifted the barbell with ease, placing it away. He looked toward the wall beside the door, searching for the med kit.

“Be right back.” He mumbled before he disappeared from the room.

You let out the breath you unconsciously held, wiping the perspiration away with your wrist. How could you be so stupid to left the barbell fall? Especially on your foot directly in front of your lover? You were embarrassed, mentally kicking yourself for your faults.

You leaned back, your hands on the wooden bench, your shoulders raised as you calmed yourself down, your sight set upon the ceiling, not noticing Jack coming back.

“I’m back.” He announced, a med kit in his hands.

He knelt before you, setting the kit down beside you. With steady fingers, he gently took hold of your right ankle, resting on his thigh as he popped the kit open. The bruise on your foot because to swell and the dark purple and blue mark made your skin crawl. Jack took out the instant ice pack, shaking the package to activate the chemical inside to turn cold. He pressed it to your skin carefully, asking you if it hurt before moving forward.

“Thank you, Jack. I’m sorry for being so clumsy.” You spoke up once he finished wrapping the ace bandage.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n). You just need to be more careful.” He took your hand, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles, offering you a loving smile that caused the butterflies in your belly to flutter.

Without a second thought, you took hold of the collar of his top, pulling him forward so your lips connected. Shock was written across his features before it shifted to happiness, the tops of his cheeks coated with a faint blush as he returned your soft, but passionate kiss. His hand found home at your jaw, smoothing across your skin before you both pulled away.

“I love you.” The words unintentionally left your lips, causing you to stiffen with fear; had you just said that?

Jack noticed your building anxiety, “I love you too, (Y/n).” He said, bringing you into another kiss — this one more sweet and full of the emotions you held for one another, your heart skipping multiple beats in the process.

Reaper

“How could you be so stupid?!” Your voice was raised in anger as you blotted the open wound on your lover’s chest with an disinfectant-soaked cotton ball.

He rolled his eyes, “I had everything under control, (Y/n). You worry too much.” He looked away from you.

“‘Had it under control’?! This doesn’t look like you had it all under control! You were shot! You were acting too recklessly.” You scolded, tossing the cotton ball into the trash bin before picking up the healing cream, applying it to the wound, “Gabriel, you need to learn when you need to retreat. If you get surrounded... no one will be able to save you.”

“I don’t need saving. I’m fine.” He scoffed, adjusting his sore shoulders.

“Oh really? Then, I guess I can just do this,” You pressed down on the bruised skin surrounding the bullet wound, earning a sharp intake of air from the infamous Reaper as he snatched your hand, eyes glaring daggers at you, “Not so fine, huh?” You rose an eyebrow, irritating the man.

He couldn’t argue any further, unable to find the words to comeback with. He understood your worry and how much you cared for his well being, but he wanted to see his revenge on Overwatch through, seeing the organization fall apart once again -- taking the backstabbing agents with it. He was so blinded by anger in the moment that he ignored all warnings to retreat, disregarding it as his soldiers being too scared to engage in a fight.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, the words foreign on his tongue, his hand moving to cup your cheek, taking notice of the tears that began to fall.

“I could have lost you,” Your voice was barely a whisper, muffled by sniffles, “I don’t know what I would have done...”

“But you didn’t-” You cut him off.

“That’s not the point!” You pulled away from his touch, eyebrows pulled together in frustration, “Your actions don’t just affect you! They affect me as well! You have no idea how terrified I was hearing that you were injured! Sombra had to calm me down because I thought the worse had happened. I thought you died out there!” You broke down sobbing, remembering the fear of losing him.

Gabriel gulped; he had never realized how much this hurt you. It pained him to see you cry -- his heart was breaking as weak whimpers escaped your lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, embracing you tightly, your face buried into the crook of his neck as your arms snaked around his torso, gripping him as if he’d disappear into thin air if you were to release him.

“Please... don’t go off like that.” You pleaded, Gabriel’s hand rubbing soothing circles into your back ,calming you down.

“I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry. I wasn’t thinking right. Actually, I wasn’t thinking at all, I was just letting my hatred pull me along. God, I’m an ass, aren’t I?” He moved away to look into your eyes, his last comment making you laugh softly as you wiped a tear away with your thumb.

“A little, but don’t worry, I’ll still love you.” You smiled, your words catching Gabriel off guard.

You loved him? How was it even possible from him to deserve such deep affection from you? It was beyond him, but, nonetheless, it made his chest swell -- not due to the bruising skin.

He grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand meeting the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss, pouring his unsaid emotions into it, his eyes shut as his lips danced in sync with yours. It was sweet and passionate, never edging on becoming heated, just enjoying your mutual love for one another. Your arms were still around his torso as you stood between his thighs as you hummed in satisfaction before slowly pulling away from much needed air.

“I love you so much. You have no idea.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Oh shoot! I need to finish patching this up!” Realization hit you as your eyes drifted to wound.

Reinhardt

“Like this?” You asked, looking up at the much larger male beside you as you whisked the batter.

“Just like that!” His voice boomed cheerfully.

“Shh, it’s still early, remember? Everyone is still asleep.” You giggled, fixing your apron.

Reinhardt nodded silently, a big grin upon his lips.

It was a routine thing for Reinhardt to make all the agents of Overwatch breakfast on the weekends; his reasoning being “everyone deserves to have a treat”. Your heart warmed whenever you’d catch sight of him asking the agents what they’d fancy for breakfast, jotting down a quick list for the upcoming weekend.

Today, you had woken up early unintentionally and decided to make way to the cafeteria, figuring a few other people would already be awake and starting their day off with Reinhardt delicious cooking. As you entered, you saw Reinhardt pulling out ingredients from the cupboards and Jack leaving the room with a cup of black coffee in hand, saying how he was going to shower and come back for the meal when everyone was up. You had given Reinhardt a gentle kiss on the cheek, mumbling a sleepy “good morning” as you leaned against the counter, your eyes following his moves before you offered to help him.

“Perfect, meine Liebe.” He hummed as he also whisked a bowl of pancake batter, adding chocolate chips to the mix before pouring it into even portions on the heated pan, picking up a spatula.

Time passed by gracefully, allowing you and Reinhardt to enjoy your time together. No one entered the cafeteria as Reinhardt suddenly took your hand, pulling you away from the pancake batter. He placed his hand at your hip as you placed yours on his shoulder, allowing him to dance with you as soft music played through the portable speaker that sat on the counter. You laughed happily as he spun you around, the bow on your apron loosening, but disregarded. He hummed along with the tune of the song as he swayed back and forth with you, his eyes filled with nothing but all the love he held for you. His fingers patted your hip to the beat unconsciously.

Reinhardt loved to dance with you. On your first date, he had prepared a picnic under the moonlight, candles being the only source of light, besides the moon that cast down. He loved to pull you into his arms whenever a sweet love song began to play, twirling you around and hearing your laughter that was music to his ears; he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing this.

“(Y/n)?” He stopped as the music faded out.

“Hm?” You looked up at him curiously as he leaned forward, tilting your head up and gazed deeply into your eyes, making your heart flutter in anticipation.

“May I?” He asked, his other still holding yours.

You only nodded in response, but that was enough for him. His lips met yours gently, your eyes shutting in delight as you both relished in the kiss, savoring the softness of each other’s lips and how your lips melded together. Your hand left his shoulder, finding home on his chest as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, which Reinhardt took no time to do, running his tongue across your bottom lip. You parted your lips for him, until a sudden cough startled you.

You quickly pulled away from Reinhardt, your face cherry red as your eyes met the brown ones of the youngest agent, who grinned evilly, her phone in hand.

“Oh, this’ll be great for the holiday cards.” She giggled, showing you the picture she took; you and Reinhardt sharing a innocent kiss -- before it evolved with more passion.

“H-Hana!” You cried in embarrassment, covering your heated cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything with it. You two are cute together, by the way.” She winked, “Well, I’m off. I’ll be back when breakfast is ready.” The Korean said before leaving with a wave, most likely going to play the newly released game she wouldn’t stop talking about weeks prior.

“I think it was a great photo. I’m going to have to ask her to send it to me.” Reinhardt smiled happily.

“Reinhardt!” You playfully hit his shoulder, earning a laugh from the German.

————

Masterlist

[writer-k-pop]

School Sucks

Description: You’re still a student and lately its been more and more difficult. You’re stressed because of upcoming tests and projects. But luckily your boyfriend is there to help. [TOTAL FLUFF]

Warnings: Slight swearing 

This is very long and I’m sorry for that but hopefully you enjoy it! xx

BTS Masterlist

Kim Seokjin

“Shit!” You exclaim. Leaning back in your desk chair, you glance at the clock. 8pm. 

Okay, it’s not that late yet. You think to yourself. You stretch your neck before plugging in your headphones and going straight back to the paper that refuses to be finished. Being so attached to your laptop, you didn’t hear when your boyfriend enters your home using the key you had gotten him a few months back. 

You don’t even notice when he knocks and opens your door. 

Jin sees you at your desk, face just inches from your screen as your eyes scan the page for the information you need. He knows you’re stressed and doesn’t like seeing you so stressed. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, he walks over to you and taps your shoulder. You jump slightly, not expecting the touch, and turn around.

“Oh, Jin, when did you get here?” You ask, giving him a hug.

“Like two minutes ago.” He replies, rubbing your back. “What are you working on?” 

You sigh, “It’s my research paper for class.”

“How’s that going?” He asks, moving to massage your shoulders when you sit back down.

“Awful, Jin, just awful. I just can’t seem to write it and it has to be five pages and I’m sitting here with two. TWO!” You put your head in your hands, “This is stupid. I hate this.” 

“You need a break.” Jin says defiantly and spins your chair back to face him. 

Before you can realize what he’s doing, he has you over his shoulder and begins walking out of your room. 

You slap his back, “Jin! Where- I have to finish this paper! Put me down~!” You whine but he doesn’t flinch.

He walks until he reaches the living room and sets you down on the couch. 

“Don’t move.” He commands but as soon as he’s in the kitchen, you bolt right back to your laptop. 

Not two seconds after you sit down, Jin runs into the room. He closes your laptop before picking you up yet again. 

Instead of going straight to the living room, he walks to the kitchen and grabs a tray of fruits and snacks he prepared. With you and the tray in tow, he makes it to the living room and sets down the tray of food before setting you down. 

“What are you doing?” You ask as he wraps his arm around you, preventing you from escaping back to your room.

“We are taking a break, (y/n).” He says turning on the TV. “You are too stressed so I’m fixing that. At least for a little bit. Ahhh.” He says and holds a strawberry for you to eat. 

You eat it and pout even though the strawberry is really sweet. You cuddle closer to Jin as a random movie begins to play. 

“You’re a good student, (y/n), and I know you’ll finish the paper, so just relax for a little bit, okay?” Jin says quietly into you hair before kissing you. 

You nod and feel a wave of exhaustion hit you like a bus. Jin notices your eyes drooping shut, grabs the blanket next to him, and laying it over you.

He smiles at you as you drift off.

“I love you, (y/n).” 

Min Yoongi

What is THAT?! You think to yourself as you stare at your text book. We never learned that in class!?

You’re spending a chill day at the boys’ dorm but what was supposed to be a couple hours of studying have turned into hours and hours of confusion and searching for the right answers. You’ve basically taken over the whole kitchen table with your notes, homework problems, textbooks, and writing utensils. 

Yoongi has been dropping by every now and then to see how you’re doing and making sure you’re drinking water and eating some snacks to stay focused. 

“Fuck!” You yell throwing your highlighter and pen off the table. Sighing, you put your head in your hands. 

Yoongi briskly walks in and looks at the pens on the floor, then to you, and back to the pens. He picks up the highlighter and pen as you move to get back to studying. 

“Oh, Yoongi!” You say as you spot him across the table. “I’m sorry. This class is stupid and I’m like 100% certain we did not learn any of this stuff in class. My teacher’s crap.” 

“What subject is it?” He asks, picking up some papers and looking them over.

“Philosophy.” You say, flipping the page of your textbook, “Dumbest class to ever exist.” You peek under the table looking for you highlighter and pen. “Hey, have you seen my-”

Yoongi holds up the two writing utensils and smirks, a plan developing in his head. “These?”

“Can you give them back, please?” You ask, holding out your hand.

“And if I don’t?” He asks, his mischievous grin growing.

“Yoongi, please.” You whine.

“Come and get them.” He says.

Groaning, you get out your chair and walk over to him. Standing three feet in front of him you holding you hand.

He shakes his head, “Closer.” You take a step closer but he motions you to come closer. As you do so he reaches his hand out and grabs your hand. Throwing the utensils on the table, he drags you away from your study materials and into the living room as you struggle against his grip.  

“Yoongi, I have to study.” You complain when he cuddles you on the couch.

“It can wait 30 minutes, (y/n).” Yoongi says kissing your cheek. “I think you can afford to give your boyfriend thirty minutes, no?”

You sigh. “I guess I can.” You give in and get more comfortable. “But if I fail this test, I’m blaming it on you.” 

He laughs, “You won’t fail, (y/n). You’re too smart for that. Too smart.” 

Kim Namjoon

“When will you be done with that?” Namjoon asks you as you flip the page of your textbook.

You shrug, “I have no idea, Namjoon. I have a test tomorrow and need to study.”

“Can I help?” He asks.

You shrug again, “I don’t know if you can, I’m sorry.”

He nods in understanding, “I’ll be in the other room if you need anything, okay?”

You nod and go back to reading the page full of words that you supposedly need to know.

Your phone buzzes with a message from (y/f/n). 

Yo, we have to know chapter 8 for the test too. Prof just emailed us. The text read.

Are you serious?! You reply in a slight panic and check your email on your computer.

“Hello all, sorry for the late notice, but I wanted to remind you that the test tomorrow covers chapters 5,6,7, AND 8. Good luck!”

“MOTHERFU-” You yell and kick your legs out. But you completely forgot about the bar underneath the table and ram your shin into it. “Oh shit.” You mumble gripping you leg. “Oh shit, that hurt.” 

Namjoon runs into the room, “What happened???” 

You wince as you rub your leg. “I just hit my leg on the table.”

“How?” He asks walking over to you and checking your leg.

“My professor just emailed us and told us that our tests covers a whole extra chapter and I got mad and hit my leg.” You say.

“Well you definitely bruised it.” He says looking at the red mark on your shin. 

“This is impossible.” You groan.

“Impossible for who?” Namjoon asks.

“Me!” You say, “There’s no way that I’m going to be able to study for all four chapters in a day!”

“You can do it.” Namjoon gives you a kiss on the cheek, “You’re smart and you can do it.”

You sigh, not believing him.

“Come on, let’s get some ice for your leg and take a break.” He says, standing up and bringing you up as well.

“Why?” You allow yourself to be pulled up.

“Because you love me and I’m cute?” Namjoon inflects and pokes his cheeks. You laugh and nod.

“I do love you.”

Jung Hoseok

“Screw this. Screw that.” You mumble to yourself while throwing crumpled up pieces of paper towards the trash. You were at your house trying to come up ideas for an essay that is due in three days but nothing is coming to mind.

You phone buzzes and you quickly grab it, eager for a distraction.

I’m coming over now! I have coffee and food! Your boyfriend, Hoseok, texts you. 

Okay, I’m doing homework so I’m sorry in advance if I’m not around. You text back and get right back to this darn english essay you have to write. 

30 minutes later and no idea has come to mind. Like none. There are crumpled balls of paper thrown all over your living room and you’re frustrated.

“I’ve arrived!” Hoseok yells when he opens the door. “Where’s my girl?”

“In the living room.” You call back, “Frustrated as hell.” You add under your breath. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, sitting down on the couch and scanning the mess you have made.

“I have an essay due in a few days.” You tell him. “And it’s stressing me out.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I have no idea what to write about.” You lean back on your hands.

He takes a sip of his coffee, forearms resting on his knees. “What’s the topic?”

“It’s a research paper. I have to find a topic and write about it’s history and impact on today’s society.” You explain.

“Have you tried...” Hoseok pauses and thinks, “What about cell phones? Boats? Books? Music?” You shake your head after every one.

“I’ve thought of all those but nothing has stuck!” You lean forward and lay your head on the table. 

“What about you pick an influential company and write about that?” He suggests.

Your eyes shoot open. “Oh my goodness! You’re a genius! I’ll do it on SM Entertainment and their impact on the KPOP music industry!” 

Hoseok smiles proudly, grabs his drink, and lays out on the couch like he’s the best thing in the whole world. 

“I’m what?” He asks cockily.

“You’re a genius and I love you.” You smile and throw a ball of paper at him.

He smirks, “I love you, too, (y/n).”

Park Jimin

Two days. The project is due in two days.

And it isn’t even halfway done. Fuck. 

You roll your neck from side to side and breathe out. In your head, you begin to do the math of the amount of sleep you can afford to lose working on this project.

If I go to bed at midnight, I’ll get 6 hours of sleep... That should be enough. You think to yourself and get right back to working on the project. 

At around 11pm, Jimin and the boys get back from rehearsals. He walks into his room, expecting you to be fast asleep but is startled to see you at his desk, glued to your computer screen. Books and papers are strewn all around you. 

“(y/n), why aren’t you sleeping?” Jimin asks, worried.

“I have to work on this project. It’s due in two days.” You reply without looking at him.

“Isn’t that the one you’ve been working on for like a week?” He asks setting down his bags.

You nod, “It’s a big project. I’m almost halfway done but I still have a crap ton of work to do.”

“Okay, I’m going to shower.” Jimin says, kissing your cheek before heading to the bathroom.

After Jimin’s shower, he resorts the bed and watches you for a couple minutes before pulling out his own laptop and starts doing some work of his own. 

“(y/n)?” Jimin asks softly, grabbing your shoulders after some time. “It’s 2am, you should go to bed.”

Your eyes go wide and search for the clock. Shit.

“You should really go to bed.” Jimin says attempting to pull you away from your computer. 

“But I’ve gotten barely anything done.” You whine but your tired body lets Jimin drag you to his bed.

“See, watch.” Jimin says once your both on the bed. “You take the blanket and go bloop and block out any stress and go to sleep!” He covers his face with a blanket before falling onto the bed and curling up. 

“I wish it were that easy, Jimin.” You slightly laugh.

He opens his blanket fort up for you to crawl in next to him. “Then come join me in mine.” 

Once cuddled next to him, it takes you no more than 5 minutes to fall asleep. Jimin kisses your forehead.

“You worked hard, my love.” He whispers before falling asleep.

Kim Taehyung

How the hell is that answer wrong? You practically scream to yourself as you look at the answer key to the practice exam. What am I doing WRONG?

You let your head fall and hit the table. Yeah, it hurt but you were too frustrated to care. 

“Hey, (y/n),” Your boyfriend, Taehyung, pokes his head into your study area, “Do you want to join me and boys for some snacks in the living room?”

You look up at him and smile apologetically, “I can’t, I’m sorry, Tae. This is a huge test and I don’t understand any of it.”

“It’s okay, you can get it! I believe in you!” He says happily and blows you a kiss. 

You stretch and tie your hair back once he leaves. Sitting back down, you go through the problem again, finally understanding what you did wrong for that one problem. 

Moving on to the next, you feel confident but when you look at the correct answer, all hope shatters. You let out a frustrated groan and decide you need something to drink.

Walking towards the kitchen, you hear the boys laughing and being loud, as usual. In the kitchen, you grab a bottle of juice and some crackers.

“Do you need any food?” Jin asks, refilling his water.

You shake your head, “No, I’m okay, thanks though.” You mumble before heading back to your study area. 

You check your phone once before heading straight back into the world of problems that make no sense at all. 

You don’t know how much time has passed until someone knocks on your door.

“Come in.” You call out, not looking up from your work.

“Still?” Taehyung’s voice says. “You’re still working? (y/n), it’s been 5 hours since you started. Don’t you need a break?” He sits down across from you with a worried expression.

You shake your head, “No, this is just starting to make sense!” You say with a smidgen of hope laced into your tone. 

“Really?” Taehyung asks, resting his forearms on the table. “You’re doing great.”

You smile at his words but the smile drops instantly when he drags out, “Buuuuut...”

You look up at him and rest you head in one hand. “But?”

“Can we do something?” He asks. “The boys left me and I’m bored.”

You sigh, knowing that he isn’t going to give up any time soon because he’s stubborn when it came to hanging out with you. “Can I finish this practice exam and then we can take a break?” You ask.

He nods and puts his hands on either side of his face. “Okay, I’ll stay right here till you’re done.”

You laugh at his squished cheeks. “Aigoo, you’re cute.”

He smiles, “I know! And you’re smart and will pass this test!”

Jeon Jungkook

“This project is due in a week! What do you mean my introduction isn’t good enough?!” You yell at the email you received from your professor. “It’s fine! I’ll just flip the table and give up on this project!” You yell sarcastically before groaning and leaning your head on the back of your desk chair.

“You okay, (y/n)?” Jungkook, your boyfriend, leans against the doorway to the room.

You nod, “I’m fine, it’s just that my professor is a dumb asshole.”

“What did they say?” He asks walking over to where you are.

“Just that my project introduction, the thing the whole project is based on, isn’t good enough.” You roll your eyes, “So you know, I’m completely and utterly fine.” 

Jungkook leans down to hug you from behind and rests his chin on you head. “Whoa there, bunny. If you keep going with that tone, you could actually kill a man.” He jokes making you laugh slightly. 

You sigh, “I’m just so stressed about this project. It’s like half my grade and to have my professor say it’s not good enough is like a punch to the throat.” 

Jungkook’s face scrunches up in pain at the thought of that. 

“Well, are you almost done with the project?” He asks.

You nod, “I was ahead of schedule but now I have to change the introduction which is going to change literally 75% of my total project. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Don’t say that!” Jungkook says. “You can because you’re smart and a really good student and you know this topic. Did I mention you’re smart?” He laughs at himself. 

You shake your head at his silliness, “I’m sorry, Jungkook, but I really get started on this.” 

“Ah, I understand.” He gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking out.

Two hours later, you’re still stuck at the computer. Jungkook knocks and walks in with cookies and two cups of milk. 

“(y/n), take a quick break and have some cookies with me.” He says setting the food down on the small table on the floor.

You stretch your arms and nod. “Okay, I’m coming.”

Sitting down, Jungkook breaks off a bite of cookie and feeds it to you. 

“Mmmm,” You smile and close your eyes. “These are really good. Did you make them?”

“If I said yes, would you believe me?” He asks and you shake your head. “Yeah, you’re right, Jin hyung made them.”

“Jin needs to teach you how to cook and bake.” You take a sip of milk.

“Wanna know what Jin hyung taught me instead??” He asks excitedly.

“What?” You ask.

“A ham sandwich walks into a bar and orders a beer. But the bartender says ‘sorry we don’t serve food here.’” He says and you have to fight the smile thats creeping onto your face. 

You love/hate terrible dad jokes but have to fight the urge to laugh.

“There’s more!” Jungkook says happily, looking at your face. “I used to have a job at a calender factory but got fired because I took a couple days off.” 

You lost it at the second one and fell onto the floor laughing. Jungkook smiled and laughed, loving the sight of you smiling and laughing. 

“I’m going to kill Jin for teaching you those.” You say in between breathes.

“But you love me!” Jungkook says.

You nod, “Of course I love you, Jungkook.”

“Good, cause I love you, too, (y/n).”

[all-dead-rock-show]

I Think You’re My Best Friend

Summary: Dan and Phil get matching tattoos.

Genre: fluff, reality

Warnings: mentions of needles (bc tattoos) and pain mention (i guess?)

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: i started this fic like a month ago but i haven’t had any inspiration to finish it.... until now! yeah i’ve had a week off school due to hurricane harvey and flooding (stay safe fellow texans) so i was like “i’ll finish this fic” and i did! i hope i got the process of getting a tattoo right. i’ve never had one, but i researched it so i hope what i found was right. it took me ages to figure out what i wanted the tattoo to be, so i hope this isn’t too cheesy or cringy ^-^ title taken from the song “The Kids Aren’t Alright” by Fall Out Boy (such a dnp song. go give it a listen). also does this count as a songfic? idk. 

~~~

"We should get matching tattoos."

Phil choked on his drink. Very slowly, he looked up to meet his boyfriend's eyes. He cleared his throat.

"What?" Phil rasped out. Dan smirked.

"I said we should get matching tattoos." Dan said smoothly as he leaned back in his chair. Phil shook his head.

"I don't understand." He said slowly. "Why—why do you think we should get matching tattoos?"

Dan rolled his eyes and laughed. "Come on Phil, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Sense of adventure? Come on Dan, it's a tattoo. Do you understand what that means? It's permanent. On your boy. Etched into your skin with pain."

Dan rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, I know how tattoos work."

Phil stared at him blankly. "Then why do you want one?"

"I don't want one. I want a matching one with you."

Phil's left eye twitched. "Are you serious?"

Dan nodded. Phil sighed.

"Dan you know how I feel about things like that. Remember the punk edits video? The pastel video? Those tattoos drove me insane, and they were only temporary!"

Dan nodded again. "Yeah I know. But that was because they were all along your arms and neck."

Phil eyed Dan. "Well, then where were you thinking of getting them?"

Dan's smirk got even wider. "Here." He pulled his shirt collar back to show his left collarbone. "Something small, not big and all over like the sleeves from the punk edits video. You could handle that, right?"

Phil still felt apprehensive about it. "Something small, without a lot of colour. I could do that."

Dan's smirk turned into a full on smile. "So, it's a yes then? You're agreeing on the tattoo?"

Phil sighed and closed his eyes. "How bad does it hurt? Do you have a idea in mind?"

Dan shook his head. "I wanted to come up with one with you, if you agreed, of course. I was thinking maybe a quote or just something that represents us. Maybe around the collarbone? Don’t worry, I looked up the pain for that location, and it hurts a bit, since it's a more bony area, but it could be worse. Probably nothing I've never felt before." Dan winked. Phil snorted and rubbed his hands across his face. He still felt a little weary about the idea.

"Why do you even want to get matching tattoos?"

Dan's smile never dropped. "I thought you'd never ask." Dan stretched his arms across the table they were seated at. They had decided that they would go out for a nice meal tonight. They need a little break from pizza and takeaway.

Dan moved Phil's hands from his face and gripped them together as he rested his arms on the table. His smile turned soft.

"Phil, we've stuck with each other for eight years, almost nine. We've accomplished so much together. A radio show, wrote two books, went on tour and performed a stage show… God. Phil, I love you so much. I'm not leaving you and I'm pretty sure you're not going anywhere either. I know we don't need something physical to show our love like a tattoo, and it's completely out of character for us, but I think it would be fun! And it doesn't have to be something that shows that we're, you know, in love, so our subscribers can see it, cause I'm pretty sure I'd wanna show of my tat if I got one. But we don't have to if you don't want one, we don't have to get one. It's up to you." Dan kept eye contact with Phil the whole time he performed his speech. Phil felt his eyes widen and he swallowed to keep tears from forming in his eyes at Dan's powerful words.

"So?" Dan questioned in a quiet voice. Phil looked at his plate, and sighed out a small chuckle.

"I can't believe it, but you, Dan Howell, just talked me into getting a matching tattoo with you."

Dan's smile was infectious as he squeezed Phil's hands.

"Alright then. It's settled. We are getting matching tattoos."

___

Phil clenched his fists, squeezing the plush arm of the chair he was sitting in. He opened his eyes to see Dan's beautiful face hovering over his shoulder, smiling encouragingly down at him.

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt that bad?" Phil asked, looking up at his boyfriend.

"I'm sure. You'll be fine, Phil trust me."

"But you have a high pain tolerance, remember your DNA test?"

Dan laughed. "That's true, but don't worry, you'll be alright."

Phil sighed and closed his eyes again. "God, I hope so."

Dan rubbed Phil's right shoulder comfortingly. The man who had done Dan's tattoo came over to where they were seated and sat in the chair in front of Phil.

"Okay, so they same thing as your friend?" He asked in a soothing voice. Phil nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Same colour? Same font, size, place?"

"Same everything." Dan said as he squeezed Phil's shoulder.

"Alright, easy enough for me."

The man rolled his chair over to Phil's left side. "Okay, you're gonna need to take your shirt off, if you're comfortable with that." Phil nodded, Dan took his off so Phil decided to as well.

Dan took Phil's shirt and laid it across his shoulder. Phil wanted to fold his arms across his chest self consciously but he refrained from doing so. They would just get in the way of where the tattoo would be going.

The man started to prepare Phil's skin for the tattoo, cleaning his left side with rubbing alcohol. He then shave a bit of chest hair that was invading the area of where he was being inked. The stencil had already been made so the man (“you can call me Jim,” he had said before he brought Dan and Phil back to where they would be tattooed), used a soapy water solution to dampen Phil’s skin, and transferred the stencil of the design onto his left collarbone.

While preparing Phil for the tattoo, Jim explained what he was doing and what purpose it had in the tattooing process. Phil had already heard this from earlier when Dan was tattooed, but he still listened intently.

“Alright, it’s time for the first line.”

Phil sucked in a breath. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this. Dan squeezed Phil’s shoulder again, and then slipped his free hand into Phil’s. “You got this, Phil. I love you.” Dan whispered and Phil felt himself relax. As long as Dan was there, everything would be fine.

“You ready?” Jim asked after getting his machinery ready to apply the tattoo.

“Yep,” Phil said confidently. He was ready.

“Okay, just relax and breath. I have a stress ball here if you’d like to squeeze that,” Jim nodded over to his table that had all his supplies on it, including the red stress ball he was talking about.

Phil shook his head. “It’s alright.” And it was. He had Dan’s hand to crush once the actual process began.

“Okay, I’m going to start in 3… 2… 1…”

Phil felt the needle pierce his skin and tried his hardest not to flinch. He squeezed Dan’s hand, and Dan winced, not expecting Phil’s grip to be that strong.

“Ow, okay, Phil just relax, you gotta relax. You���re too tense.” Dan said, his empty hand rubbing Phil’s shoulder. Phil did his best to listen to his boyfriend.

Soon, the initial shock of pain subsided to a dull one, and Phil felt himself relax a bit. “There you go,” Dan whispered. “You doing so well, good job.”

Finally, after the linework, shading, and colouring, the tattoo was finished. Jim cleaned up the tattoo and applied a hot towel around the area. “Alright, you boys are good to go. Just remember to clean it and take care of it properly and nothing bad will happen. You can pay at the front desk.”

Dan and Phil said their thank you’s, paid their tips, and went to the front desk to pay. Once they paid, they called a taxi and made their way home.

___

Dan and Phil stared at each other’s tattoos in awe. Phil couldn’t believe that he had a tattoo. And Dan has the exact same one.

“You don’t regret it, do you?” Dan asked softly, his eyes moving from Phil’s tattoo to his eyes.

Phil smiled softly. “No, I don’t. Do you?”

Dan laughed quietly. “Of course not.”

Phil brought his hand up to ghost over the letters permanently imbedded in his skin, then up onto Dan’s, tracing the same pattern of Dan’s tattoo. He traced over the slightly curled font, black and bold.

“‘I’ll do it all again/I think you’re my best friend.’” Phil read, a little smile on his face. “God, it’s so cheesy, but perfect.” Dan nodded.

“It was a good choice.”

“Perfect for us.”

“Yes,” Dan whispered. He leaned forward and kissed Phil’s nose. Phil giggled.

“Because we’ll always be best friends, no matter what.” Phil said with his eyes closed.

“Definitely. God bless Fall Out Boy.”

Phil laughed as he pulled Dan close and they both fell back onto the pillows of their bed.

“Oh yes. Now we gotta see how our followers react…”

Dan lifted his head and kissed Phil’s lips lightly. “They’ll love it, probably more than we do.”

Phil nodded and yawned, pulling Dan closer to him as he buried his head in Dan’s hair. “Thank you.”

“What for?” Dan mumbled, his voice heavy with upcoming sleep.

“For convincing me to do this. I’m glad you’re irresistible.”

Dan chuckled and shook his head in Phil’s chest. “I am irresistible, aren’t I? But, I’m glad you agreed. This was fun.” Phil opened his mouth to agree, but a yawn overtook him. “How’s about we go to sleep?” Dan suggested when he felt the yawn. Phil just nodded, sleep finally taking over. “Goodnight Dan.”

Dan smiled and traced the fresh ink in Phil’s chest. “Goodnight Phil.”

And the last thing Phil felt before sleep took over was Dan’s lips brushing over Phil’s chest, and he fell asleep like that, a smile playing on his lips.  

[roraewrites]

ten

[ sakura’s secret ] rating: m

//last update for the week! i’ll be inactive this weekend as far as posting content, but i’ll hopefully have the next chapter out sunday night/monday . nothing too exciting this time, just transitioning ~

previous | next

Frozen, crunchy grass, minimal rays of golden light, piles of leaves from dead trees -- November was in full swing. Mornings always bit with the intentions of upcoming winter, but Sakura couldn’t feel the chilly bites of realization anymore.

She was drunk on Sasuke and high on life. Between her school work, spending time studying and Sasuke, she was in a continuous cycle. Her friends still didn’t know about Sasuke, her family didn’t know about him, but neither did Sasuke’s friends or family know about Sakura.

A few more months, Sakura kept reminding herself. Only a few more months until her eighteenth birthday, and maybe then she would be looked at like an adult. A few more months.

“Don’t forget that we will be having family over soon,” Mebuki reminded from across the table.

When Sakura’s jade eyes found her mother’s glazed over look, she offered a tired smile. “Yeah, I won’t forget.” But her answer didn’t seem to calm her mother’s facial expression, nor ease it up at all.

“Everything okay, mom?”

Mebuki came to cross her fingers under her chin, balancing her head in place; it was such a Sasuke thing whenever Sakura watched anyone else but him do this.

“You’ve been acting different lately. Staying out late every night, avoiding questions, going out and not coming home over the weekend. It just seems a little odd to me,” Mebuki finally deadpanned, her voice as dry as a desert.

Sakura frowned before an unsettling feeling crawled up her spine. Had she really noticed all of that?

“I’m enjoying my senior year with my friends.”

“And what friends would that be?” Mebuki retorted.

Sakura was taken aback, her eyes wide with fear and her lips parting. She was hanging out with Naruto and Ino, of course. Who else?

“Naruto and Ino,” Sakura responded before taking a bite of her breakfast and washing it down with a swig of ice cold water.

She nodded her head once before glancing out the winter to their dining room. The trees were all bare now, and only one or two birds still hung around, braving out the changing weather. The sky was painted in golden hues of oranges and yellows, due to the early hour, while gray clouds began to come in from the east.

“The last time I saw Ino was back in September, Sakura.”

Sakura began to count the days, backtracking exactly when Ino had been over the same time as her mother. Throughout all her years of growing up, Ino was normally attending family dinners, outings, and simple movie nights with both Sakura and her mother. Now all Mebuki would come home  to was an empty house and a text from her daughter: I’ll be home late. Studying.

“She was here on Halloween,” she responded quietly.

Again, Mebuki nodded once. It was entirely unlike her to push a subject for this long, but then again, a mother’s concern was the greatest of all.

The topic was dying down, until her very next question.

“So who’s the boy you’ve been seeing?” She asked with a gentle smile and tired eyes.

Her heart was now soaring, her fingers trembling slightly and her body temperature rising. She couldn’t possibly confide in her mother just yet. Sakura promised herself that she would introduce the two of them, not as Sakura’s sensei, but something more. Just not right now. Later.

Time was against her the longer she thought about her answer. It was already too long to use her usual excuse of ‘nothing’ and the moment her mother shifted in her seat, Sakura found her eyes watching the ticking clock behind her mother’s golden hair.

“Oh, him? He’s nothing special,” she lied, but her mother saw right through it. “Not special enough to bring home, yet.”

It hurt her to say it, because Sasuke was very special to her. He made he feels things she never felt in her life before, brought laughter and a peace of mind to her.

“If you keep seeing him, someday he’ll have to meet your parents,” Mebuki reminded her.

Sakura felt her cheeks flush -- this was the first time she had ever talked about boys with her mother, other than the simple “He’s cute!” or “Look at him!”

This was a matter of getting caught now. They would need to rethink their strategy from now on.

“Got it,” Sakura stood from the table and walked her plate to the sink. She began to rinse it off and wash it before rinsing it once more. Her mind was like a whirlwind of thoughts now; would their terms of meeting and hanging out last, or were they on their way to getting caught?

In her furry of overthinking, the plate slipped from her hands, missed landing on the counter and shattered against the java hardwood floors. She didn’t feel any sort of anger slip through her mind, she only wanted to cry and scream.

“Sakura!” Mebuki was up and by her side, comforting Sakura’s frozen form. “Did any get you?”

She couldn’t answer, wouldn’t answer. Instead, she began to pick up the pieces with her fingers, her eyes glassy while her body was completely numb. Thoughts of no longer carrying on with her secret relationship tainted her mind, made her feel absolutely angry and scared and exhausted.

“Stop, darling. I’ll sweep it up,” her mother comforted her, wrapping her arms around her before pulling her away. “Just go get ready for school.”

Sakura simply nodded her pretty head before stepping around the glass, careful to avoid the smallest of pieces. Her throat was extremely dry, her eyes burning from tears that threatened to fall, and her body tensed up and uncomfortable.

This was what she signed up for with Sasuke when she confirmed that this was what she wanted. A life of living in secrets, unable to confide in her mother or Ino, Naruto included.

As happy as Sasuke made her, also came a downfall of living in the shadows.

“Only a few more months,” Sakura promised herself, promised Sasuke, and all of the people she was close to. “A few more months.”

.

.

.

November was turning out to be a dreadful month. Classes were slow, her time spent with Sasuke was kept to a minimum, and her mother had been breathing down her neck.

She felt caged when she began to return home after school. She missed staying late with Sasuke, doing her own thing while he finished up with work, yet they didn’t mind the silence that filled the space between the two of them. They worked hand in hand with one another; his quiet, sarcastic side was something that Sakura had taken a liking to.

Whenever she did see Sasuke though, she could see the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Their eyes would meet almost every other five minutes during class, hidden messages passing through obsidian to viridian, and as much as it killed Sakura to remain seated and not jump from her seat, she stayed like a good girl.

Ever since she began her fling with Sasuke, she found that her grades had been higher than ever. She was paying attention to detail more so than not, her studies came easier to her and she felt more determined to get into medical school and prove to everyone that she was working hard and not just goofing off; there was just something about Sasuke that made her determined not to give up.

Sakura set her pen down on her desk and stood from her seat. Sasuke’s head lifted only to meet her stare and when she began to walk towards him, he sat back comfortably.

She could only focus on his lips, the way they sat, thin and soft.

With her arm extended, she passed her finished test over towards him and offered a gentle smile, her eyes twinkling with admiration. Sasuke raised a single eyebrow, the corner of his lips raising before she turned on her heel and headed back towards her desk.

A pair of ruby eyes caught her attention; a pale face with eyebrows pulled together, her red hair flaring out wildly on one side; Karin stared her down. Sakura didn’t falter at the eye contact, only continued her walk by her until she reached her seat and sat back down. It looked like her classmates were all pretty close to finishing now, but in her spare time, she pulled her folder that held scholarships and left off where she had started.

Her mind felt cluttered lately, but whenever she looked up to give her eyes a break, she caught Sasuke’s stare, remembering the way he told her how focused she looked when she would write. Sakura could feel her cheeks dust over with a light pink before looking back down.

Oh, how he still had that effect on her and oh, how she adored those deep, dark eyes of his.

.

.

.

She felt her days begin to blur together, and as much as Sakura hated to admit it, she was beginning to grow exhausted with each passing day of her senior year. It was a constant barrage of school, school wook, avoiding curious eyes and wandering rumors, trying to maintain a breaking friendship with Naruto and Ino, scholarships, and wringing her mind with how her and Sasuke could keep seeing each other.

Ever since their kiss, it felt like everything had began to fall apart and these were the things she thought about late at night. Sakura didn’t feel like going out to parties anymore, plus her friends quit inviting her the moment she began to push them to the side and focus on other things.

The music that played through her headphones soothed her anxious mind, but it didn’t solve her problems. Finally, her phone vibrated and when her eyes dropped to look at the screen, she felt an instant wave of life wash over her.

Come see me.

It was Sasuke with his fake name splayed across the screen. Those simple three words set fireworks launching through her mind, set her body on fire.

It’s passed two. Shouldn’t you be asleep?

She waited not even a minute, and a message pulled through on her phone.

I could ask you the same thing. Come outside.

Sakura frowned before unplugging her headphones and throwing them to the side. She pulled on Sasuke’s university hoodie and a pair of winter boots before making her way over to her window. The familiar cars that lined the streets were the only things she could see, but then her eyes landed on Sasuke’s familiar black car.

Though she felt her cheeks light up and her eyes widen and her heart began to rush in her chest, she also knew that there would be a time -- soon -- that they would need to discuss what was transpiring between the two of them.

Instead of standing in her window, gawking at him, she made her way down the stairs -- she removed her boots, knowing they would make clonky sounds while making her way down -- but the moment she opened the front door, it was like ice and venom biting into her skin.

“Fucking cold,” she hissed, her eyes squinting to fight the bitter breeze.

Her feet carried her to Sasuke and the moment she pulled the door open and crawled in, she was greeted by tired eyes and messy hair.

“Hi,” she breathed out, taken aback by how handsome he was, especially when he didn’t try.

Sasuke didn’t respond, only look at her with those tired gray eyes of his. The longer she looked at him, the more she could see the light that had once been lit there, slowly diminish to a flickering flame that threatened to die out at any moment.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, one of her knees came to rest against her chest, while she sat on her other leg. The simple furrow of his eyebrows made her lean closer, and when she thought he was going to answer, his hands were on her cheeks, and his lips pressed against hers.

He tasted and felt good against her lips again, and the longer he held her there, the drunker she became off his intoxicating scent. Her heart ached for him, yearned for him; Halloween was their last shared kiss, and now here they were, meeting late in the hour, both tired and hurting.

Sakura felt it through his kiss just how much he needed her, missed her, desired her.

“It’s so annoying,” he murmured while her lips were still against his. “So fucking annoying.”

Sasuke pulled away slightly, but his forehead came to rest against hers, and Sakura fought back the scalding tears that threatened to fall. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, breathing in his smoky scent.

“What’s wrong?” She asked quietly in the darkness of his car. His hands still held onto her cheeks, firm but soft, and her hands came to hold his forearms.

It took him a moment to answer, but when he did, he pulled away and looked into her eyes. His thick, black lashes hooding eyes that told stories -- stories that were still untold.

She slowly let go of his arms and his hands slid down her cheeks, one completely dropping while the other ran through her messy, pastel tresses.

“You’re different,” his voice was hoarse and his eyes dropped to watch his fingers twirl through her silk locks.

“I’m just tired,” Sakura tried to reason, but she knew Sasuke was smart, smart enough to see through her lies, but he remained quiet as his eyes stared right through her. “I’m okay, though. I really am.”

“Sakura.”

And there’s something about the way he says her name and how his eyes grow intense, like a roaring fire on the mountainside, or how a hurricane demolishes buildings in its wake. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and Sakura stands in the eye of the storm.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She finally admits through sealed lips and eyes that gloss over with tears that won’t fall.

“I won’t,” he responds quickly. Sasuke is smart, witty, he’s clever and knows how to work around the system, she comes to realize. He’s young and he still has his moments that would look to be childish to the other instructors at the school, but he’s mature for his age and he’s got that going for him.

“We’ll work through it.” Sakura knows he means it, because his eyes shimmer with untold promises.

“Then what? What happens after that?” Sakura finds herself asking, her tone firm. It’s been something on her mind since November first, and here she is, awaiting the answer.

“We’ll find out,” he frowns but his gorgeous features never falter.

Sakura nods her head, and leans farther away from him. Her breathing begins to calm down now, and although she still has her concerns, she can trust him.

It was funny, Sakura thought, how a simple crush formed into something more over the course of a couple months. She never considered what would happen from there, but now that they were going to progress forward with this thing between them, she started to think of how things would be after she graduated from school.

“Now what?” She asks from her seat, her knee still pulled to her chest while her arms hug around her leg. Sakura finds that the quiet air had been filled with tension, and although they decided to work through it, there was still something amiss.

Sasuke’s smirk kick started her heart and when his eyes reflected the light from the stereo, Sakura frowned slightly. “How long do you have?”

Sakura shrugged, “my mom normally leaves for work around five in morning. Why?”

“We can go somewhere,” Sasuke started his car. The low hum of his engine started up, and as he put his car into first gear and started moving, Sakura latched her seatbelt over her chest. Of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Where?” She asked as he shifted to second gear and the car began to move faster. She noticed that he kept it slow, noting that the roads would probably be icy due to the cold weather.

“You’ll see.”

Sakura kept her eyes on the road, watching as they drove by familiar houses and the playground she would play at when she was younger. They drove by her old school and Naruto’s house, passed the tree they shared their first kiss by, and finally on their way out of town. Sasuke followed the road that led through the hills; the trees bare and grass dead, the greenery that once hid this road was no more.

“Have you ever been up here?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

She watched her surroundings as they kept going, trying to find something familiar that she would notice, but to no avail. “No?”

“Good,” he replied, and just with that simple word, she felt chills creep through her body and his ghost of a kiss on her skin. She would never forget that feeling, how close he was, how his lips felt the first time he touched her.

When the car’s engine started to grow quiet, Sakura noticed that they were no longer heading up, but the road had leveled out. Now that she realized where exactly they were going, a smile painted itself on her lips.

He had taken her to one of the highest points in Konoha; a perch that looked over the city, but at night, the millions of lights that twinkled under the oncoming winter sky amazed Sakura.

Sasuke parked his car by the guard rail and Sakura simply couldn’t pull her eyes from the sight. The downtown part of Konoha was busy, she could tell, but when her eyes scanned towards the outskirts of the town, the lights began to dim. Viridian eyes searched for Sasuke’s condo, and when she couldn’t find it, they landed on her school.

“It’s so pretty,” she whispered, mostly to herself, but Sasuke scoffed.

“Have you never seen Konoha at night?”

“Not from up here,” she spoke through a dazed state of mind. From yellows, oranges, greens, reds, pinks, to blues, Konoha offered many different lights and the main road that cut straight through the city held multiple cars. “It’s so busy.”

“It’s always busy,” Sasuke retorted, and when Sakura glanced at him, she could see the reflections of all the millions lights in his eyes. “It’s peaceful up here, especially in the middle of summer.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself,” he smirked.

Sakura shook her head before settling back and watching the busy road that held cars of all types, and watching lights either flicker on or off. The sky remained black throughout the night, and although she knew she should be at home and in bed, this was much better than a night filled with overthinking and restless sleep.

Time spent with Sasuke should’ve been forbidden, but they took it as a challenge, and together, they agreed that they would get around it.

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Hn.”

“Will you teach me how to drive your car?”

A long pause, until he finally groaned, “maybe.”